#but this exchange makes it so heavy and sad

[paulyenvol6]

Byka Atroksia (Chapter 8)

Contains: Smut, fingering (f receiving), kissing, touching, dirty talk, body image issues, soft dom!Daemon

Wordcount: ~2.31k

Masterlist of this story

A few hours later you found yourself in your chambers again. After a fight had almost broke out between you and Rhaenyra you had managed to avoid another outburst even though you didn’t feel the same kind of lightness between you you had felt in the beginning of your trip together.

Now you sat on your bed and looked outside your window.

You simply didn’t want to feel miserable or sad, but the heaviness wouldn’t vanish. You hated this so much, because you knew that you COULD have a normal conversation with Rhaenyra. Today had proven it once again. You just hated that at some point everything shifted and you couldn’t recognise your sister when she looked at you with those flashing eyes. You wondered whether what you did with your uncle had made it worse.

But that wasn’t really possible as Rhaenyra obviously didn’t know anything about it. It also hadn’t made it easier though, so had just nothing changed at all? How could you change it? You wanted things to be always the way it was when you had been lying with Rhaenyra in the grass, gossiping and laughing. But you didn’t know how to achieve that, you just both had to understand that Daemon wasn’t the prize of some inofficial competition between the two of you.

But you couldn’t understand this yourself if you were honest to you. You still felt this tension in your stomach when you saw them laugh or dance together. And now you had been bedded by him… Which alone was already bad enough, but what did it mean for Rhaenyra and your rivalry?

Of course you had already thought about this before. You just simply couldn’t help it as you were always so affected by this ongoing fight but you hadn’t really come to a good conclusion. Had you won the fight? Daemon had shown you quite a lot of attention the last couple of days. But you didn’t feel like you had won and that was what was odd to you. It seemed like nothing had changed.

How did you feel? What did the fact that your uncle had coupled with you make you feel? Of course you felt dirty, but more because of your initial fear of what would happen if someone was to find out you had lost your maidenhood before marriage. But in context with Rhaenyra and your rivalry…?

You didn’t really know. Maybe there was a little pride and self – satisfaction but it was hard to separate all those feelings. Because there were so many more layers, you felt joy, excitement, nervousness, fear, shame and so much more. It was hard to identify what emotion was caused by what. Or by whom.

You let yourself fall back on your bed and closed your eyes. It was still early and the sun hadn’t touched the horizon yet but you were very tired so you closed your eyes and found peace in a matter of seconds.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day you stayed by the Keep and helped your handmaidens pick out new curtains and carpets for the King's and Princesses' chambers. You had fun doing it and put a lot of effort into choosing beautiful ones. Time passed swiftly and in the afternoon you found yourself in your chambers writing a letter to your childhood friend Isa Tully.

She had just gotten betrothed to a Bracken lord and you asked all kinds of questions about her future husband. Isa was Niclas Tully's niece and you knew her from when she had been a ward in the hand's family. When you had been young she was one of your best friends and saying goodbye when she had left at the age of 14 you had thought that you had lost her. And indeed, you didn't see her often now but you exchanged letters and were able to catch up through them.

But you were interrupted when the door opened and you looked up from the parchment. "Daemon.", you said and slowly put down the feather. He walked towards you with a smirk and had his hands folded behind his back.

"Hello, niece." He stepped close behind the chair you were sitting in and you turned your head so you could look at him.

"Is there a reason for your visit?", you asked for some reason out of breath and Daemon's hand started to caress your back.

"Yes. There is." You tried to surpress a smile and quickly got up from your chair. In one movement you turned to him and got close to kiss him. You were excited and eager for him but when you wanted to undress him and take off his shirt he denied you and pulled your hands away. You moaned against his mouth feeling dissatisfied but he ignored your pleading and pushed you into the second part of your room.

You expected him to move the both of you to your bed and awaited the edge of it to hit the back of your knees but it didn't happen. Daemon's hands were on the side of your face and your waist until he stopped the kiss and watched you with glaring eyes. Then he grabbed your shoulders and slowly turned you around until you stared at your reflection in the mirror. His eyes observed you as you watched the both of you and Daemon moved closer so he stood behind you. "Daemon, what?"

"Shh.", he interrupted you with his mouth close to your ear. His hands traveled over your body and he stroke your hips and waist.

"I want you to see yourself.", he whispered softly. "I want you to see what I see. I want you to see how pretty you look."

You felt goosebumps on your arms and his husky voice made your knees weak which was quite unfortunate because you were still standing.

"You don't believe me when I say it. So I want you to see for yourself." His mouth brushed over your ear and then his hands reached behind you to unlace your dress. You watched his beautiful face as he looked at your back and then with one movement, Daemon pulled the dress over your shoulders and down until you saw your bare chest in the mirror.

Daemon followed your gaze and his hand brushed over you naked shoulder which made you feel the coldness of his rings.

"So pretty.", he whispered when he ran his hands over the swell of your small breast. You didn't exactly agree because you thought that your chest wasn't full enough and therefore not sensual enough but you had to admit that the view was pretty. His hands on your body and your nipples that stood out pink against the color of your skin…

"Can you see it?", Daemon whispered against your ear. "Can you see how nice you look?" You gulped loudly when his finger brushed over your right nipple and nodded slowly.

"Good.", he growled and his touch on your chest became a little faster and more determined. While his right hand pulled at and rubbed your nipple his left ran over the curve of your breasts and now and then massaged your tits. Your eyes were glued to your reflection and Daemon was sure to remind you to when you forgot to keep them open.

His lips brushed over the side of your neck and he gently pressed little kisses on your skin. Then after a while he pulled your dress and undergarment further down until it fell on the floor and you stood with nothing covering your body. You observed yourself and Daemon's eyes were fixed on you. You felt his hard cock against your arse and his arms wrapped around you to caress your hips and belly while his chin brushed against your hair.

"Look at yourself, Vhaela.", he whispered, his eyes so dark that you almost couldn't see the pupils. "Do you still want to tell me that you can't possibly be desired by a man, mhm?" His hand wandered down your body and slipped between your legs.

"You think no man in the seven kingdoms would kill to be in my position at this moment?" Your heart beat fast and you kept staring in the mirror as Daemon's hand lightly brushed over your pearl and your mouth formed an 'O'. "How pleasure washes over your face and you start to shake when I rub at your little pearl. It's pretty."

His voice was so quiet against your ear and you saw your chest heave quickly in the mirror. Next, Daemon's left hand wandered to your torso to toy with your tits while his right remained between your legs to rub and flick your pearl.

"Mhmm.", you hummed and your eyes threatened to roll back.

"Yes, that's it, my girl. My beautiful girl.", he whispered and your eyes met his' in the reflection of the mirror. Daemon was able to make you finish within minutes. His finger was of incredible strength and persistence and soon your juices were running down your leg. It was hard for you to concentrate on what you saw in the mirror because you just wanted to let yourself fall and enjoy the pleasure you were receiving without perceiving your surroundings but you wanted to listen to Daemon and obey him.

So you watched. The goosebumps on your arms when his heated breath tingled your neck. Your perky nipples that stood hard when being teased by your uncle's skillful finger. Your hair, that fell down skeekly to your chest. Your glistening eyes that fluttered at particularly tight and well-aimed circles performed by Daemon's finger. Your lower lip that were red because your teeth bit on it. You watched everything as Daemon had told you and his satisfied smirk that you could see on his face confirmed that it had been what he wanted.

Eventually you came hard and your knees threatened to give in so your uncle wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him. He walked a few steps backwards and sat down on your bed with you on his lap. You panted heavily and let yourself fall against Daemon's chest as you tried to regain a clear mind. In the meantime he ran his hands over your thighs and then after a while turned your head around so you looked at him.

"Good girl.", he whispered and your insides fluttered. He kissed your naked shoulder. "I want you to keep it in mind. The pretty picture you saw in the mirror, my little owl."

Slowly you started to feel like yourself again and your heartbeat felt healthy again so you smiled softly. Then after a while Daemon tapped your thighs and gestured you to stand up so you did. You really liked being so close to him and feeling his arms wrapped around your body but he told you that he had to attend a meeting with the Lord of the tides about the crown's issues with the Braavosi Lord so you got dressed again while Daemon watched you. Then he swiftly ran his hand over your hip and smirked at you.

"I'll see you soon, niece." You nodded while adjusting your undergarment.

"Goodbye, Daemon."

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning you were woken up early by your handmaiden. It was your cousin Aegon’s name day so there would be a feast in the gardens. The maidens helped you get dressed and put your hair up and then you went down to eat.

"Good morrow.", you said to your sister and father and kissed him on his cheek. You felt well – rested which was probably caused by the fact that you had gone to bed quite early the other night and sat down next to Rhaenyra. She seemed to be a little more relaxed now as well and smiled at you.

"Good morrow, sister. Have you heard that Lord Cordin Stark is going to attend the feast?" You were genuinly surprised by that information and looked at your father.

"Really? Why?" He chuckled. "Why not, daughter? It’s a beautiful day and we want to celebrate your cousin."

You smiled. It was beautiful to see your father that happy. You knew that life hadn’t always been easy for him as he and Daemon had lost their father at a young age and the death of your mother… And then shortly after she had passed and he was still grieving for her, first he had been pressured to remarry by his small council, which he eventually had done and a war had threatened the peace in the seven kingdoms. The crown had been able to avoid a bloodshed but it took exhausting, long-lasting negotiations with the Tyrells in High Garden and you knew that your father had suffered. And then of course there was Daemon, an ongoing curse for your father. Of course they loved each other but Daemon was a chaos founder and had given the King more than once a aching headache. But right now… everything seemed to get better.

The Tyrells and ruling Targaryens had concluded a peace treaty, he had had time to process Aemma’s death and had been able to develop a close relationship with his new wife, Laena Velaryon, even though he would never love her the same way he had loved his first wife Aemma and now Daemon had defended the Stepstones from the Crabfeeder in the name of the crown. He had accepted advice from his brother and for the first time in a long time, Viserys had felt as if he could actually trust him. Of course he knew that his brother was still his brother and he would probably never stop messing around and causing problems, but things were good right now. Really good.

And you definitely didn’t want to destroy his new found happiness by him finding out that Daemon had bedded you. Seven hells, he simply couldn’t find out.

[shaisuki]

𝗔 𝗚𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗖𝗔𝗧 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘

ft. bully! gojo satoru and geto suguru

content warnings bullying, university au, heavy bullying, degradation, humiliation, threats, blackmails, she/her pronouns, sabotage, bribes, blow jobs, cunnilingus, name calling (slut, whore, being called pig related names), noncon, dubcon, dacryphilia, penetrative sex, implied spanking, anal sex, double penetration, nonconsensual recording, dead dove do not eat.

notes it's been long since i've paid attention on this one and for @bimbosandbubbles, vanny. thank you for inspiring me to finish this one. semi part 2 here. part 3.

SERIES MASTERLIST

synopsis evading your bullies isn't a good idea so they take you to learn your lesson.

at the start of your uni days, you expected life would open a new path for you. meeting new people from different cities or in the international, new experiences and a way for you to start a new life with a degree after college but you shouldn't have planned anything for yourself as life had different plans for you. to mock you and spat at your face for being naive.

stuck in the endless game of cat and mouse with the university's golden duo.

his bright blue eyes peering behind his dark glasses while he watch the busybodies of students walks through the busy hallways of the university. searching for a certain someone that has been the sole enjoyment of his for the last few months. the only one who have lasted them for so long.

spreading his long arms at the back of the bench. legs spread in an inviting manner as he leans back, head thrown back. looking at the person sitting besides him.

“suguru, are you sure she'll show up?” gojo whines, asking the dark-haired male with the same footing as his in the university. looks and popularity-wise.

taking a puff from his cigarette, geto turns his eyes to him before looking at the students coming out for their next classes. blowing out the smoke before replying to him. his purple eyes glints.

“patience, satoru. she will show up.” anticipating the return of their favorite plaything. you could such be a tease at time like this.

it was time. your eyes rapidly searching for them. hoping to avoid the duo that everybody have singing their names. you don't want to deal another humiliation nor degrading remarks coming from them. you prayed. prayed and prayed, hoping someone will hear your pleas. clutching the straps of your bag tighter as you step outside of your class.

you began to made your way to your next class. you were glad many students were still present and crowding the hallways but you could never be so sure. passing the crowd with an apology to your lips as you occasionally bump into them but you keep your guard up, avoiding to look in the courtyard. you keep your sight straight ahead but you could feel your eyes tear up when a sudden shove from a busy student hit you. the collision making you look in the direction where the duo was waiting for you.

even at the distance, you can see geto's eyes fixated on you. a smirk curls in his lips. shooting you a playful smile at your direction.

your prayer wasn't heard that day.

scrambling into your feet and pretends you didn't see him. making yourself blend in the crowd and disappeared into the place where you only know. your heart beating a mile per minute, running away from them.

“there she is, satoru.” geto called out to his friend. making gojo straighten himself up and looks where geto is looking at. you're running away from them. how sad. how stupid.

thinking you could easily escape them and blending in the crowd. clever girl. they thought but they couldn't miss you. like predators marking their prey to be devoured. they know you more than you know yourself. exchanging looks and geto smirks while gojo chuckles. fuck, you interest them more.

two cats letting the mouse escape and corner it again before they can fully escape in their grasp.

looking around, you made sure there's no one following you. no signs of the white hair and dark long hair best friends lurking around. taking the more quiet place that students use as shortcut when in a rush.

you just wanted a peaceful college life. not being a playtoy for the duo who passed you around like you were some cheap whore. you want to ask someone to help you but how could they help you. some attempts were made and the good souls who believes in you where blacklisted from the university for some unknown reasons.

you didn't know how much power gojo held and the words coming from geto's mouth enticing people who hang from his every word and realizing it only at the end.

gojo satoru is the only son and the heir of a multi-million company. who made a name for himself in the campus. the pretty boy who have different arm candies hanging in his arms weekly.

geto suguru who you doesn't know much but made himself popular along with gojo in the campus. charming he is and had a fan club made for him and to his best friend. they're the best if people were asked about them.

and you. you were just nothing but a toy to them. a past time when they're bored and you're left like nothing when they're done with you.

they won't follow you, do they? looking behind you to check and you almost let out a breath of relief. you barely escaped geto earlier. your nerves still working you up.

“i didn't take you the type to ditch us, (y/n).”

you almost jump, making you stop in your tracks as you look up in front of you. hand in his pockets while waving the phone in his other hand. a grin in his face while stepping closer to you.

with every step he take, you took backwards. not wanting to face him or geto. you don't want anything from them. tentatively taking your steps backwards. you just could blend again with the crowd. your mind formulating a thousand escape plans. you only look at him in contempt. a last chance of bravery against him.

spinning your heel and you made a run for a life. you could taste the escape in your lips. away from him. away from the people who made your life hell.

flashes of light blinded you for a second before realizing you were stopped. the tight grip in your arm, the smell of cigarette clinging into his shirt. it almost made you gag.

“nice one, suguru. (n/n) thinks she can escape us.”

there was a stinging sensation behind your eyes. the hope you're once clinging ripping into shreds. falling once again to the madness this two seeks for the pleasure of their own entertainment.

geto pulls you closer to his. wrapping his arm in your shoulder. your back against his chest while his hand went to cup your jaw. raising your head to meet his smile. you sure could punch him if you have the guts but looking at his face, you couldn't deny that geto suguru is attractive. maybe it's the lightning or how his hair is elaborately tied in a bun where the other locks of his hair is loose underneath and the single strand of his hair falling down. acting like bangs in his face. the warm light of the sun illuminating his face like halo. it's almost— godly.

you felt stupid for admiring one of the people in your life who made it hell. it's a realization how small you felt, how powerless you are with this two and they remind you of it every single time of your life.

your lips is curled up in a frown and gojo take notice of it. the latter grinning and walking forward where his friend got you trapped.

grasping your chin in his slender fingers, blue eyes inspecting your face behind his dark glasses. leaning closer to brush his lips to yours and the immediate reaction earns a laugh of amusement to his. tucking back your lips and moving your head to the side. blinking back the tears and he'd be lying if he didn't like the tears on you.

you weren't special. you're nothing worthy of praise nor attention but you do give them a hell of a time. you didn't even look or close to the numerous bitches they had fucked. they were naturally submissive which they like and the worst is they got clingy which is incredibly annoying for them. skanky bitches like them think they can have a piece of them. thinking they're now hotshots for sleeping with them when they're just holes for them to fill and to leave.

you — you got a fight in you. they wouldn't tell you that aloud. they didn't need to shape a bitch for them. bitches are made for them and you, even a dozen times they break you, you're still standing up and perhaps they could keep you longer until you submit to them and throw you away like a trash. follow them like a lost puppy that is still coming back even kicked and worship them at their feet. they needed you to break.

your eyes betrayed you, no. it wasn't tears instead it was the impalpable glare you have given to someone and not just to someone. it was one of your bullies.

his shit eating grin turning into one of a coldest lines forming in his lips before turning into one of a condescending smile. an immediate silence taking over and geto didn't missed that despise being behind you. harshly yanking your arms he was holding and earning a whimper from you.

“ah, ah. what's that? acting brave now are we? who taught you that or perhaps we didn't teach you enough what happens to fat slut like you acting up? mmm?” he hums. closing his eyes as his lips crooks into a smile. his bangs covering one side of his eye and the other opens or both. you couldn't tell when his bangs is covering the other.

“suguru, don't be like that. we've been just too lenient at her and now — acting too brash. we don't want this for our pet suguru, do we?” gojo tuts. tapping his fingers to your cheek, eyes locking to geto. the eye contact generating the sickest of punishments they can sentence you to.

“please — i-i need to go....” your voice stumbling at the words and your false courage starting to crumble. you couldn't think how stupid you were for glaring at gojo. he deserves it and it's not enough. you thought. bitter memories starting to surface while you think of all the humiliations you had to endure by his hands and if you were getting punished which was already placed into you, you should have glared at his friend too.

gojo tuts.“nuh uh, where do you think you're going? this is what you get for avoiding us. you need to learn your place.” the snow white haired boy jeers at you.

suguru only smirks, grabbing your arm to drag you from wherever they wished to punish you. gojo following suit whilst humming a tone from a random song.

you ended up in a vacant classroom in where the area is currently renovated and staff and students alike are forbidden to enter minus the construction workers who were taking a lunch break. giving the duo the time to punish you in their own ways. you can feel the bile rising in your throat and the familiar sparks of tears stinging behind your eyelids. your heart quickening its beats from the nervousness and the shame you have to face on or it will never end. it never ends.

“strip.” the black haired male ordered you. seated in one of the chairs in the vacant room. his friend is also comfortably seated too. a huge smirk plastered on his face, resting his head in his palm while those blues in his eyes glints in anticipation.

“n-no.” you stammer out. your hands trembling. clenched in fists in your back.

geto fakes a frown. twirling his phone in his hand while he types the password in his phone.

“no? such a shame if the whole uni would see what kind of a slut you are. you look good in this one, pretty i might say. taking satoru's cock so well. hm?” tapping the phone in his fingers while showing you a clip of a video they had previously filmed from the past sessions. both had a copy in their own phones. they may never say it but it's a video they treasured whenever they misses you. “poor mommy and daddy. they will know how much of a slut a daughter they had raised.”

“you can't do that. you have no right.” there's a sound similar to a whisper in your voice. a cruel smirk etched in his face, looking at your helpless state. they know the power they hold. what would you do report? ask the others? too bad, they'll never believe you as long they're around. people worship them. what's the power of a peasant against them? nothing.

“he can, (y/n)-chan. just one tap away and the whole world will see you for who you really are. a slut who's desperate of attention. now, follow suguru's order or we'll post it.” satoru warns. playing with the arms of his dark glasses. the action making you see a peek of what's under them.

and just like that, like a puppet you obey them. your hands trembling along with your vision blurring from the tears that started to spill from your eyes. forced to follow what they ordered to you. you couldn't risk to be find out. knowing full well that you would just be shamed even it's not your fault. who would believe you after all? you were an unfortunate being that got thrown in a tiger's den. you think of your parents — who worked so hard for your education. if hardwork and determination would reward you along with their sacrifices. you will be the first one to graduate in your family. you just have to endure it. give in to their demands and maybe — just maybe. it will end faster and you could wallow in shame on your own.

retracting your arms and you unhooked your bag slinging in your back. placing it on the nearest table. there's a soft thud along with the taps of their shoes in the wooden floor. impatiently waiting for you to completely strip of your garments.

your head hung know as you hesitate to reach out for the lower buttons of your blouse. your fingers wobbles as the buttons enter the holes of your blouse. one by one. the buttons coming undone and you blinked back the tears again but no matter how many times you blinked the tears came running down your cheeks.

you couldn't run. not when the fate of your education and dignity are stored in their phones — or maybe. you'll let them and disappear forever — away from their hungry gazes and hands that turns filth whatever they touches.

a pair of blue and purple dances at your snivelling form. that look suits you better than being a stubborn bitch you are. all bark and no bite. who's the the loser now?

it's getting quite annoying how you slowly take your clothes off and the modesty of it. a red long sleeved blouse and underneath it a black tank top paired with a long black denim skirt that preserves and gives you the impression of being a modest and goody two shoes person. boring. they make sure to put in mind what clothes you are allowed to wear for immediate contact.

satoru sighs but it's closer to belching. growing impatient as he taps his shoes in the floor before standing up and walks towards you.

he holds the tops of your shirt before tearing it up. the last buttons flying away as they got ripped. you panicked and grasping his hands to stop it but he's stronger than you. easily pulling your arms away as he yank your shirt. the action resulting in your skin burning and welts starting to form where the cloth had touched your skin.

“no! no — please! i—i'll do anything you want but not this!” you cried, hands squirming to take it away from his tight grasp. “tsk. too late.” gojo taunts. turning his head to look at geto who was enjoying the view. “suguru~, lend a hand will you? little mousy-chan is real stubborn today” asking his friend nonchalantly.

geto shakes his head, cupping your jaw harshly that it started to hurt and leaves bruises to the skin. forcing you to raise your head to look at him. “this wouldn't happen if you were obedient. we could have shown you mercy and instead what did you do? running away from us like a squealing pig. accept your punishment.” his pupils darkening and you watch it through your glossy eyes.

“a bad, bad — bad girl, you are. who taught you this? ahh, maybe it's mommy or daddy. run away from the big bad wolf eh. it's that what they taught you. they're wrong. you're a swine who lures men at your undesirable self.” he continues to sneer at you.

you didn't know what's hurting at this point. your body or your soul. you didn't know. you couldn't even shield yourself from the spite of their hatred and disgust for you. if you were really this ugly and undesirable for them. why would they bother for it. you know it wouldn't be difficult for them to get their dick wet. girls swoon and was more than willing to give their body for them and if they want another to give the same treatment you receive, they can. a much more appealing person for their taste. a far cry from what you are.

he lets go of your jaw, the sound of your tank top being ripped from the back resonating in the room. geto grabs your head, your face pressing on his chest while he holds you to avoid interrupting his friend who was having the time of his life tearing your clothes off. your bra following suit. your denim skirt being tugged away and that made you cry even more, leaving you only in your panties.

gojo continues his torment at you. slapping and pinching the muffin top in your waistline. chuckling while his fingers digs marks into the skin. amused from the fat of your body jiggling and swaying with the assault it was taking.

his eyes twinkling in pure glee and it returns to normal meeting geto's gaze at him. looks are exchanged, a quiet agreement that they both fully understand what it meant coming for you.

geto places his hands into your shoulders before pushing it down, forcing you to kneel with no consideration for the bruises that will later bloom. gojo watches in pure amusement while his friend manipulates you into his will. this is what suguru is. his true colors in full display.

geto is not the person you want to be messed up with. striking in the place where you don't expect it. nothing can hinder suguru when getting what he desires and a shame for those fuckers who tried to help you. what they did get? blacklisted from the university with a anomaly he conjured up.

flickers of sunlight and dust mingles in the room. gojo shakes his head watching as his friend switched his charismatic demeanor into one of a sadistic. “suguru, don't get too hasty. i thought you were the cool one here.” he said nonchalantly, eyes hungry with desire and need from raking through your half naked figure. kicking your torn clothes strewn in the floor.

“i don't tolerate defiant bitches who can't follow rules and begs for mercy from their mistake.” his voice cool with hint of malice behind them. “i should put you in your place, (n/n). ” he smirks, relishing on how hope simply vanishes into your eyes.

“now don't be like that to me, (y/n). please me and maybe i'll change my mind.” his eyes narrows down at you while you're in the verge of tears. your lips are wobbling. faced with suguru's crotch and you regret looking in his eyes. a silent plea for him to change his mind. a condescending smile only and you received your answer.

you blink back the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes while you reach for his belt loops. shaky hands unbuckled his belt and you were shook that you were fumbling and when geto took a breath, you quickly managed to unhook the loops and pulling the zipper of his pants down.

you never wanted to make it worse than it was when geto would show his impatience towards you and in your situation you can only obey.

he's huge. always was. the outline of his cock is pressed against his boxers. “i presume you won't be needing my help to get it out, princess.” his tone velvet smooth with a hint of impatience dripping in it. you accepted your fate when you tug his boxers down. his cock springing free and it slaps to his abdomen. “suck.” he orders you with no hesitation and you think you could cry at this moment and then you remembered how cruel the two are when disobeyed especially the male above.

you take a experimental lick in the tip of his cock before enveloping it with your tongue. you feel him shiver. a grunt can be heard next as you swallow half of his cock. bobbing your head in a slow motion while you stroke the other half of his cock.

suguru stare at the scene below him. his cute piggy taking his cock in your mouth. he places his hand behind your head. forcing you to look at him and it makes his cock throb more at your mouth. your round cheeks in display and your lips wrapped around his cock and that teary gaze of yours meeting his own. “take more of this cock, princess.” tapping your cheek and you obediently followed. he let out a curse as you take him deeper. closing his eyes for a brief moment and he returned to watch you take more of him. “you can only follow an order if you're being threatened. might do more of this—shit—haaah.” grunting as you fondle his balls.

satoru watch in pure amusement as you take his friend's cock. slobbering all over it as you suck him deeper and he's a little jealous. not used in his spotlight being taken by someone and suguru was no exception and your attention should be also on him. his blue eyes peering through his glasses. he watch as your round face struggled to swallow more of his friend's girthy cock. drool seeping from the corner of your mouth as you bob your head back and forth.

gojo shudders at the blood rushing in his cock. he began to palm his cock through his pants. groaning and the little puffs of breath he was taking. unable to contain his excitement he pulled out his cock. stroking his veiny cock in a slow torturous manner as his cum dribbles down from the tip of his cock.

“suguruuu~” geto winces at the call of his name. eyes half-glaring at his friend for interrupting the haze he was in of your mouth sucking him. “you're not the only one allowed to fuck (y/n)-chan's mouth. sooo let me have her mouth.” gojo smiles at him and suguru scowls for a moment before giving your mouth to suck satoru's cock.

gojo grins. “f-fuck... suck me more...” the white haired boy stutters. burrowing his dick deeper in your mouth making you gag but he didn't care. feels too good to notice that you're almost choking on his cock as tears appeared in the corner of your eyes. your other hand still occupied jerking suguru's length.

the duo loves nothing more than this. their cute, little toy being used by them. you spent the last minutes alternating between their cocks, both covered by your spit. you were currently sucking him off and suguru groans at his impending orgasm and satoru isn't doing good either but before their orgasm bursts. they made you stop.

“open wide baby.” gojo pants. both of them pumping their cocks in unison before shooting their load in your mouth. spurts of their cum dropping in your tongue and some landing in your face. “what do we say after giving you our cum?” his face remaining passive as he reminds you and if you answer it wrong, this will last longer.

“t-thank you.” you shyly mutters. voice low and sounding so obedient. that seems to satisfy suguru as he replied with a hum. holding your jaw between his thumb and index finger. swiping the sticky cum glazed in your face with his thumb, he smeared it in your face and without further adieu you swiped the cum in your lips with your tongue. the bitter taste of their cum coating your taste buds and it would linger for days to come.

“you could be such a good girl, you know that, sweets.” satoru commented. admiring your face covered in cum. “even you could be such a bitch sometimes and you choose today to act up and we know what happens when you break a rule, you get punished.” squishing your round cheeks before staring at you dead in the eye with his blue eyes glimmering more than ever. “and punishment starts now.”

breathing is not the same as it was anymore. you sat in suguru's lap uncomfortably. your ass stinging, covered with handprints as it starts to form welts. air became lacking as suguru continues to kiss you.

“mmm...” the small sounds is all you can manage while suguru shoves his tongue deep inside. it's been minutes and this punishment gets worst as the clock ticks.

suguru can be gentle as he is rough. the dried tears sticking in your cheeks are the evidence of it and your much demure attitude after a spanking does the trick of it so he's rewarding you of kissing you until you're breathless. your soft lips perfectly melding in his and suguru enjoys every minute of it. you taste of the sea and something sweet or it just could be him. licking your tears before this. it was humiliating to you while he savors every minute for it.

geto smirks in the kiss when he hears gojo speak. “she's so fucking wet, suguru.” gojo laughs. watching as slick flows in your dripping hole. your thighs are spreaded by him and preventing you to close your legs away from his gaze. “all that spanking got you, hah. i barely touched you.” mocking you as he laughs. your body tensed and geto noticing the change in your body chuckles. “getting shy, are we? let satoru do what he wants and maybe we're going to be gentle to you this time.” it wasn't much of a request but an order. you simply nodded. “good girl.” suguru mutters before dipping again for a another kiss. holding you closer to him while his hand in your back gripping the rolls on it and the other hand in your breast. his finger brushing to your stiff buds.

satoru let suguru have his fun and so is he. what's in front of him is going to tastier and he can't wait to dig. parting your thighs wider, satoru first bestowed a chaste kiss to your doughy thighs. making sure they are given equally the amount of being worshipped by him. he won't say it aloud but your thighs are his favorite. smooching the expanse of your thighs and sometimes resting his cheek to your thigh just to feel that softness over it. he will get both of them to squish his cheeks or crush his head. he doesn't care.

a smack sound can be heard as satoru took his first lick to your fat pussy. humming in delight for diving back in. his tongue lapping in your sweet heat and more obscene noises grew from his desperate feats of licking your slit with his tongue. alternating between sucking and flicking his tongue to get more of that goodness.

your plush body jerks involuntarily. all the places with the extra bits jiggling at the sudden intrusion of his tongue. moaning in the kiss where suguru had you locked. “mmm...hah—mmm...” is the only sound you can produce as suguru licks your tongue and going back again to take your lips in his. drool covering both of your mouths. eyes half-lidded and you're drunk in this haze and you take a peek of satoru in between your legs. his white hair moving so gracefully as he slurps loudly the juices spilling in your cunt. his large hands holding firmly your thighs. sinking in the softness of it as your thighs gets bigger at being squish. the flesh spilling in his thick fingers.

satoru let goes on your clit with a loud pop before you can cum. your whines muffled by suguru's lips on your own and satoru chuckles. wiping the juices covering his mouth. “i got on her pussy first, suguru.” satoru reminded him and the man in front of you smiles. “no need to remind me, satoru. i'll take her ass.” he nonchalantly commented and your widens. squirming in his lap to get off but suguru clutches your flabby arms in his hands. “don't be scared. it will feel good like your pussy does.” he convinces you but you don't want it. “who cares about that, it's part of the punishment.” suguru growls and that puts you in your place. accepting what they decided for you.

“hey, suguru. frightening our dear (y/n)-chan will get her holes tight. you might want to loosen her.” gojo commentated whilst rubbing your slit with his fingers.

geto tsk. visibly annoyed, a rare occurrence for gojo to see his friend like this. “satoru, punishment is punishment.” the purples in his eyes darkening and gojo shrugs. “whatever. i still get to fuck her fat pussy.” sticking out his tongue towards suguru.

it was painful to swallow the lump in your throat that never existed again and again. your hands are clammy while the duo began to position themselves to you. satoru slapping your ass before hooking his arms behind your knees and his hands holding the back of your thighs hoisting you up. wrapping your arms in his and the other in suguru.

the black haired beauty holds your ass. suguru spreading your ass cheeks and the tip of his cock prodding at your tight hole. “please, geto. not in there please. i—i'll do any—mmph” the sharp thrust of his cock interrupted your plea. making you cry at the burning sensation in your hole. clenching your fist in a tight manner. your eyes hot and warm tears came rolling down your cheeks from the pain like rivulets. “and what? you'll do anything. too late now, sweetheart.” suguru examines your face as it twist again in the thrust of satoru's cock in your cunt.

“fuck!” satoru curses out. chuckling at himself. “the only good thing in you is tight pussy of yours.” your velvety walls clenching around his cock. “are you crying?” satoru teases taking a mental note of your tears.

both of them adjusts their hold on you. beginning to move their hips in an upward motion to thrust their aching cock in your warm holes.

it burns. everything stings with every move. your muscles begging to rest as it tears from how they stretched your muscles and your limbs put in a uncomfortable manner. this is how your day supposed to go on. why you must be in this position. unwilling and unlucky to escape this kind of situation. you're always in trouble with this two and maybe if you weren't so fat for this two to mock and make fun of you wouldn't be here.

mistaking the tears in your eyes as being overstimulated which is true but you're troubled with the inner turmoil of yourself so you get lost and the two began to harshly pound their lengths deep inside you. groaning and throwing at curses.

satoru rests his forehead in your shoulder and behind his glasses, his eyes, the prettiest shade of blue seems to shine in astonishing sight of your pudgy belly. squished together and like dough being stacked together. jiggling at the impact of their thrusts in you and his sight lowers. his cock disappearing inside your pussy as it glistens and the wet squelch it was making, it was simply music to his ears. biting the junction of your neck. he stare at suguru who's smirking at the sensation of your tight hole gripping his cock. “she feels so good, suguru—ahh.. this pussy's trying to choke my cock.” satoru commented.

“you hear that, you feel so good.” suguru holds your jaw forcing you to look at him. “open your mouth, baby.” parting your lips at his order, suguru spits on your mouth. a glob of his spit hitting your tongue in which you didn't hesitate to swallow and suguru smiles. “good girl.” he praises.

hard muscles are a contrast to your soft body. sandwiched between their bodies while they keep their pace steady in bullying your holes with their cocks. a moan is ripped from your throat when satoru hits the spongy spot in your cunt. knowing what he had done, satoru grips your thighs firmly as he angles his cock inside. hitting that spot repeatedly until you can't stifle the sounds coming from you. involuntary moans come spilling from your mouth and gojo swells with pride that only him, well both of them. he and suguru could make you moan like that. how did he know? silly to ask that. they're the only ones who had fucked you since you started college and the first to take your virginity. they didn't even allow men to approach you.

suguru wanting you to make you feel good like satoru does have to speed up his thrusts usually than what he always do. it's not even a work up from him. his desire for your asshole to only know the shape of his cock and he's the only one who can fuck this ass of yours.

“'too much. too much.” you babbled. the pleasure and pain is getting overwhelming for you to take. instead in pitying you it earned a chuckle from the two. “since when did it became too much for you, huh? you're a slut. sluts don't go to tell that it's too much. all they can do is shut up and take it.” satoru taunts you.

gojo hisses when your cunt squeezes around him. the creamy white ring forming in the base of his cock as you came. “shit! she came suguru.” satoru said in amusement and even he's like that he's getting close too and so is suguru. they exchange looks briefly before putting their strength in reaching their end.

you can't speak. they've taken your ability to speak. you can only moan in silence as you feel another orgasm bubbling in your abdomen again. you're going to cum and it's going to be more intense than the last one. you feel them both. hot and throbbing. the veins in their cocks making ridges in your soft walls. taking and molding their very shape.

harsh thrusts are back to back being blown to you. the tips of their cocks hits deeply as they can before releasing their loads. both groaning as spurts after spurts of their cum are being loaded inside of you. never did you felt to be so full and warm until they've released their loads inside of you. hot and sticky.

it took a few more thrusts before the both of them had ridden their high. handsome as they are and wicked even after fucking their favorite plaything. removing your arms around their shoulder. you slowly descended on the floor. both of their cum escaping your holes. dripping and staining the cold hard floor where you sat. you ignore them and you know the drill after being fucked by them. it's time to leave and slowly, you began to gather your clothes. your blouse are useless. tattered and shredded and it won't cover you. you're lucky your denim skirt are still intact.

reaching out for your bag to get the spare clothing you packed for when it happens. you grabbed the wet wipes. patting where their release had stained you, mostly in your face. a stream of tears you didn't even notice falling from your eyes got you wondering why the floor below you is getting wet. the realization dawning into you and you can only cry silently. dressing yourself and trying to be more decent.

satoru and suguru busied themselves fixing their clothing. not leaving the sight of their toy cleaning their self. suguru crouches down to meet your position. “crying after what you've put yourself into.” he commented. “pathetic.” satoru mutters as he watch you beneath him. “try not to defy us again, okay? it would be much worst than this one.” there's a hint of softness in his voice and maybe you could convince yourself that he wasn't a jerk from the way he spoke but you know better. they had humiliated you until you hated yourself. degrading you like you were nothing a dirt and not a human being.

“i understand. i'm sorry.” you say. bowing your head in shame for being disobedient at them. for not following simple orders. “good.” his only response to you.

“can i please go now?”

suguru hums and with that, you slowly made your way outside. your bag tightly secured in your back with your ripped clothes, you left without saying a word again with tears streaming down your face.

when you disappeared from that door, the duo both left at the building. going on with their lives again as the golden boys of the university and you were left with nothing, not even a shred of your dignity.

satoru reviews the newly recorded of you being impaled by their cocks. feeling hard again from the way your pussy wrapped around him along with your soft body pressed against him. “the best, satoru.” suguru commented after seeing what his friend is watching in his phone. “send it to me.” whipping his phone in a second and quickly typing.

your phone buzzes. alerting you with a message. you were wiping your tears after you nearly trip. absentmindedly wandering in the campus and if it wasn't for you almost tumbling you wouldn't break out from your stupor. more tears rolled in your cheeks, dripping down in the screen of your phone after you've read the message.

suguru: see you later.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗕𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗛𝗗𝗔𝗬 𝗕𝗢𝗬

　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: When Chris is starting to come to terms with the horrible idea that he will have to spend his birthday away from Y/N, a surprise takes him, literally, by surprise.

WARNING: Making-out.

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: A small story only to warm up for their birthday! I'm going to post more tomorrow 🩷

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The day before the triplets' 21st birthday in Boston was marked by a mix of nostalgia and melancholy for Chris. Despite the bustling energy of their family home, Chris couldn't shake off the heavy feeling of absence. Matt and Nick seemed to be in higher spirits, enjoying their time back home, but Chris felt an emptiness that gnawed at him relentlessly.

Chris had always been too close to Y/N, his girlfriend, who had remained in LA due to her college classes. And as he sat in the living room, watching his family laugh and share stories, Chris couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sadness. He missed Y/N's laughter, her presence, the way she made every moment brighter.

The fact that she couldn’t be there for such a significant milestone made him feel both sad and angry, though he knew it wasn’t her fault. College was important, and he respected her dedication to her studies.

The house was filled with the comforting smells of home-cooked meals and the familiar sounds of family. Chris held his phone in his hand, scrolling through old pictures of him and Y/N, trying to fill the void with memories of their time together.

His thumb paused on a picture Nick took of them at American Ninja Warrior, both of them grinning widely at the camera. It had been taken just a few weeks ago, during their filming. He could almost hear her laugh, see the way her eyes sparkled in the neons light. The longing in his heart intensified, making him feel even more isolated despite being surrounded by his loved ones.

Mary Lou noticed her son's downcast demeanor very quickly, and as soon as she got a little space, she went to sit beside him.

"Chris, honey, what's wrong? You’ve been so quiet all day." She said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, caressing the area.

Chris sighed, leaning into his mother's comforting touch.

"I just miss Y/N, Mom. I know she has classes and all, but it feels wrong to be celebrating without her." He tried to smile, lowering his eyes.

"I understand, sweetheart." Mary Lou gave him a sympathetic smile. "But remember, she’s always with you in spirit. And you’ll see her soon enough. Try to enjoy this time with your family. It’s been so long since we were all together like this."

He nodded, appreciating her words but still feeling the weight of Y/N’s absence. He knew he should be more present, more engaged with his family, and the guilt of not doing that weighted above him, but his thoughts kept drifting back to LA, to the love of his life.

That night, Chris lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The house was quiet now, everyone else had gone to sleep, tired from the day's activities. He picked up his phone again, contemplating sending Y/N another message. They had exchanged texts throughout the day, but he didn’t want to seem too needy or make her feel guilty for not being there.

Instead, he decided to call her. The phone rang a few times before she picked up, her voice soft and sleepy.

"Hey, honey." She murmured. "Is everything okay?"

Hearing her voice brought a rush of comfort and a pang of sorrow to Chris, a smile taking over his features automatically.

"Hi, babe. Yeah, everything’s fine. I just... I miss you. I wish you were here." His voice sounded soft and lower than usual.

"Oh, babe, I miss you too." She said, and he could hear the sincerity in her voice. "I wish I could be there, Chris. I really do. But I promise, we’ll celebrate when you get back, okay?"

Chris sighed, closing his eyes for a few seconds before reopening them, looking at her contact name glowing on the small screen.

"I know. I just... It’s hard, you know? Being here without you. It doesn't feel right."

"I know, babe. But you’re surrounded by family, and they love you. Try to have a good time, for them. And for me." He almost could listen her sweet smile across the phone.

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see him, breathing deeply.

"I’ll try. I just can’t wait to see you."

"Me too. Get some rest, pretty boy. Tomorrow's a big day. I love you." She whispered softly, the sound of sheets moving around echoing in the background.

"I love you too, Y/N. Goodnight." He muttered quietly, biting his bottom lip slightly.

As he hung up the phone, Chris felt a mixture of emotions. He tried to focus on the next day as he drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the day he’d be back in Y/N’s arms.

Unbeknownst to Chris, Y/N had been planning something special. She had spent the last few weeks organizing a surprise that she hoped would make up for her absence. She knew how much this milestone meant to him and his brothers, and she wanted to be a part of it in any way she could.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The morning of the triplets' birthday dawned crisp and clear in Boston. Mary Lou was already in the kitchen, bustling about as she prepared a grand breakfast. The aroma of sizzling bacon, freshly baked muffins, and brewing coffee filled the house, a warm and welcoming scent that promised a day full of celebration.

Jimmy and Justin had gone to the grocery store to pick up some last-minute items needed for the big birthday lunch they were planning. The house was alive with activity, everyone playing their part in making this day special.

Matt and Nick had left early, driving to the airport to pick up Y/N. They had been in on the surprise from the start, eager to help bring a genuine smile to Chris's face. The drive was filled with excitement and a few playful jabs at how Chris would react, trying to imagine his expression when he saw Y/N in their home. Y/N herself was a bundle of nerves and anticipation, her heart racing at the thought of surprising Chris. She had barely slept after their call, her mind buzzing with plans and excitement.

As Matt and Nick’s car pulled up to the curb at the airport, Y/N spotted them and waved excitedly, a big smile on her face. They greeted her with warm hugs and excited chatter, filling her in on the plans for the day.

The drive back to the house was filled with lively conversation, Y/N asking about every little detail of their plan, wanting everything to be perfect. Matt and Nick reassured her that everything was set and that their parents were in on the surprise, ready to welcome her with open arms.

As they drove through the streets of Boston, Y/N suddenly remembered something.

"Hey, Matt? Can we stop by a flower shop?" She asked, a hint of urgency in her voice while her eyes kept watching the landscape moving quickly through the window. "I want to get something special for Chris."

Matt and Nick exchanged a glance, then nodded.

"Sure, we can do that." Matt said, turning the car toward the nearest florist he knew all too well from the times his father used to bring them there to buy some flowers for Mary Lou.

The flower shop was a charming little place filled with the vibrant colors and sweet scents of countless blooms. Y/N spent a few minutes selecting the perfect bouquet, a beautiful arrangement of Chris's favorite flowers. She wanted it to be just right, a small token of her love and the effort she put into making his day special.

When they finally pulled back into the driveway, Y/N's heart felt like it might burst from her chest. She took a deep breath, clutching the bouquet tightly, and followed Matt and Nick into the house.

Mary Lou greeted her with a warm hug, kissing her face with excitement and whispering words of encouragement. They placed her surprises in the living room, the bouquet taking center stage among the carefully wrapped gifts.

Y/N took a deep breath, looking at the family for a last time before climbing the stairs slowly, each step heightening her anticipation.

Chris's door was slightly ajar, and she peeked in to see him still asleep, his form cocooned under the heavy blankets. She slipped into the room quietly, closing the door softly behind her. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on Chris's peaceful face.

Y/N approached the bed, her movements slow and deliberate. She carefully lay down beside him, positioning herself so she could watch him without disturbing his sleep. For a long moment, she just observed him, taking in every detail. His dark hair was tousled, and there was a softness to his features that only appeared when he was at rest. She felt a swell of affection as she noted the faint smile on his lips, wondering if he was dreaming of something pleasant.

The room was quiet except for the rhythmic sound of his breathing. Y/N reached out, her fingers barely brushing his cheek before she drew them back, not wanting to wake him too abruptly. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body, a comforting presence that she had missed so much. Her heart ached with a mix of love and longing, overwhelmed by the sight of him so close yet so unaware of her presence.

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N leaned in closer, her lips hovering near his ear.

"Chris." She whispered softly, her voice barely more than a breath. "Wake up, pretty boy."

Chris stirred slightly but didn't open his eyes, better accommodating his position.

"Five more minutes, babe." He mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. There was a pause, and then his eyes snapped open. "Wait, babe?" He lifted his head from the pillow, and when he saw Y/N lying beside him, his eyes widened in shock, his body sitting up abruptly. "Y/N?"

She smiled, tears of happiness welling in her eyes, sitting up to be on the same level as him.

"Happy birthday, Chris." She said, her voice filled with warmth and love.

Chris blinked a few times as if trying to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Then, a broad smile spread across his face, and he pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Baby, oh my God! I can't believe you're here!" He exclaimed, his voice a mix of joy and disbelief.

"I wouldn't miss your birthday for anything." She replied, hugging him back just as tightly. "I wanted to surprise you."

Chris pulled back slightly, looking at her with a mixture of awe and adoration.

"This is the best birthday present ever." He said, his eyes shining with happiness. "I was so sad you couldn't be here, and now... you're really here."

Y/N laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

"I'm here, Chris. I'm really here, and I'm not going anywhere else." She whispered, her thumb caressing his forehead softly, traveling to his brows and cheek bones. "Okay?"

"I've missed you so much." He muttered, his hands snaking up her shoulders to her face, cupping her cheeks, his fingers threading into her hair, and finally brought his lips crashing down onto hers in a hard, heated kiss. The intensity of it took her breath away, her knees going weak as she clung to him for support, her hands lowering to his jaw.

Chris kissed her with a desperation that spoke of all the days they had been apart, his lips moving against hers with a raw, unrestrained passion. His hands moved to her waist, gripping her tightly as he pulled her onto his lap, settling her straddling him. The closeness sent a shiver down her spine, and she could feel the rapid thud of his heart against her chest, mirroring her own.

Y/N's hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently as she kissed him back with equal fervor. The kiss deepened, their tongues meeting in a heated dance that left them both gasping for air. Chris's hands roamed over her back, pulling her closer as if trying to erase the distance that had been between them. He groaned softly against her lips, a sound that sent a rush of warmth through her.

Y/N could feel the world spinning around her, her senses overwhelmed by Chris's touch, his taste, his scent. His hands were everywhere, touching, caressing, exploring, and killing all the bad feelings he felt away from her.

When they finally broke apart, gasping for air, Chris buried his head in the crook of her neck, his breathing ragged hitting against her skin.

"I love you so much, babe." He whispered against her skin, his voice thick with emotion. "You have no idea how much I've missed you. This is the best gift I could ever ask for."

Y/N's heart swelled with love and tenderness as she held him close, feeling his vulnerability and happiness. She could feel his tears wetting her skin, and she gently stroked his back, comforting him.

"Oh, honey, don't cry." She whispered, her voice soft while her hands traveled to his hair, massaging his curls. "I love you. So much."

They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, their hearts beating in sync. Eventually, they pulled apart, and Chris took a deep breath, his heart feeling lighter than it had in days.

"Come on." He said, his voice switching to one full of excitement. "Let's go downstairs, I can smell breakfast from here."

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[divine-donna]

all you need is more radaway

save a horse. ride a cowboy. ;)

anyways i really loved the tv show and i love the game. and ghouls are just chef's kiss. or maybe that's because i love monsters. sad that i finished it so quickly. :(

perhaps i can put what i learned in my western class to good use lol

character: cooper howard aka. the ghoul

it's never easy surviving the wasteland. you don't know how you managed to survive for this long. perhaps because you seemed to have been blessed with incredible luck.

and building up endurance, of course.

you felt little to no side effects from the radiation of the food you were eating. which just meant you had a lot of radaway and rad-x stocked up.

to make ends meet, though, you had to start hunting. scavenging and scrapping by wasn't enough. you needed the extra caps.

thus your rivalry with another bounty hunter was born.

"well, well. aren't you far from home, sweetheart?"

you were used to comments about your outfit. a vault suit. yes, you came from one. you had been exiled after your father was revealed to be managing the experiment behind it. the child pays for the sins of the father always.

"you're not the first and you won't be the last." you pull the head off the body as clean as possible.

"now i don't know if you should do that."

"and why not?"

a bullet flies past you and burrows itself into the ground. you finally look up. a cowboy hat. the face of a ghoul. his gun pointing right at you.

but you weren't afraid.

"because he's my target." he pulls out a piece of paper. "and he's mine."

"seems unfair if i did all the work. and you just collect his head and the prize." you pull out the same piece of paper. yours is a little more worn out though. and covered in dried blood.

"that's the way of the wasteland sweetheart."

"if you believe so."

your hands were fast. two bullets lodged into his right left and when he looks up, you're gone.

of course, you learned from the best: western holotapes. you really liked them when you were growing up. claimed to want to be a lone hero.

in some ways, you were. the wasteland was just a new version of the wild west, wasn't it?

"spaghetti? like...the pasta?"

more like spaghetti western. he knew that, of course. but no one in the wasteland knew what a spaghetti western was. they were remnants of a past long gone and one only accessible by holotapes in the vaults.

"that's their name." the person says. "why? you have business with them?"

"perhaps." the ghoul was looking to return a favor.

"don't even try. they're far more formidable than you think."

"we'll see about that."

your rivalry was an exchange of bullets, more often than not. thankfully, you always stocked up on bloodbags and could make a stimpack from your heavy (but useful) travel chemistry kit. you were smart like that.

surprisingly, it became something to look forward. mostly because the ghoul preferred if he tried killing you, so he managed to get you out of a tough situation by killing the other people trying to kill you.

and you returned the favor. there was something satisfying about lodging a bullet into him again.

unfortunately, this left you two stuck on a job once. captured by raiders. you had been knocked out with a drug. and he had collapsed from...something.

"fuck." you mutter, pulling at the ropes binding you. your luck had run out for the day it seems, because your arms were tied to the ghoul's around this godforsaken pole. the metal was also uncomfortably rubbing up against your skin.

"you got a knife or anything sharp?" he looks over at you. it's rare to see him without his cowboy hat. his head was rather smooth.

you chuckle a little.

"something funny?" the ghoul asks.

"nothing. you're just...shaped like an egg."

"very funny."

"let me guess. your answer is no?"

"i don't have a knife up my sleeve, sadly. think they took it."

"shame." the ghoul shimmies something out of his own sleeve. he flicks the blade out and begins sawing at the rope. "watch your fingers."

you keep your fingers tucked in. eventually, the rope on your wrists comes undone and one arm soon after. the rest comes off and you rub your skin. "fuck these guys. always hated raiders."

"well, we both got sold out. we need to find that thing now. or else we'll be dead by sunrise." he tugs on the door of the jail cell and clicks his tongue.

"i don't have sharp objects. but i do have these." you pull out the bobby pin taped on the inside of your sleeve, alongside a mini screwdriver.

the lock wasn't very complicated, so you picked it with ease.

as you both are grabbing your equipment, you hear footsteps up above. light ones and heavier ones. and the sound of a muffled, altered, robotic voice.

the brotherhood of steel was worse than raiders, honestly.

"you go left, i go right. how does that sound?"

"i don't usually like taking orders from my rivals." he reloads his gun. "but for you? sure."

the event left the both of you soaked in the blood of your enemies. on the other hand, you guys left with plenty of loot and an idea of where your target was: dead. at the bottom of a lake.

it was a journey to get there, wherein you learned the details of each other's lives. you didn't think he was paying much attention to your sentences. after all, you came from a vault.

and yet, you saw a hint of sympathy in his eyes.

he seemed less keen on sharing details about his life, aside from his former name. cooper howard.

undeniably, as a fan of westerns, you recognized his names. from the holotapes.

"they had those?" cooper shakes his head, taking sips of water. "no way."

"yes way! it's where i learned to shoot."

"from watching my movies?"

"yes!"

"that is...a pleasant surprise." cooper leans back.

"that also makes you over 200 years old."

"that it does. something wrong with that?"

"no. the wasteland changes people." you maintain your attention to your suit, sewing a tear up. "just...you're looking for something, aren't you? everyone's always looking for something up here."

"are you looking for something?" his voice hardens and he sits up straight.

"i was. and then i found it. and i stopped." you tie the thread to seal the stitch and then tear the thread with your teeth. "i hope you find what you're looking for though."

"well, that's awfully kind of you, sweetheart."

"i have a name, you know."

"what is it?"

"(y/n)."

getting personal in the wasteland was something cooper wasn't adamant about. but the circumstances seems to call for it.

"guess we're even now."

the body of water was daunting. it was murky and dark. you pursed your lips and dumped your bag. "well. guess we have no choice."

cooper looks over at you then quickly turns around when he sees what you're doing: taking off your suit and going down to your underwear. "what are you doing?"

"i'm going to go get that head. that's how we get paid, right? easy three thousand caps. 15 hundred split evenly." you stretch.

"i think you might die."

"i'll be fine. i've done it before." Aquaperson perk.

"i can also swim, you know."

"i'll be fine cooper." you pop a rad-x pill just in case. "be back in a bit."

you dive like a swan, making minimal splash into the water. your form disappears beneath the darkness.

you're gone beneath the water for over an hour. cooper's heart was beating against his rib cage. you should be out by now. it should not be that hard. did something get you? things lurked beneath the murky waters always.

"fuck!"

he drops his equipment and begins stripping down, until he is just in his pants. he would need to dive after you. if you were dead, then so be it. it was fun while it lasted.

suddenly, you emerge. you take in the oxygen of the surface and hold the head up high. "got 'em." you swim over to the shore and walk out of the water.

there was something about how...wet you were that got him feeling hot and bothered.

"something happen down there?"

"couple of mirelurks. no big deal. which reminds me." you set the head on the ground and go back into the water. within minutes, you're pulling out the bodies of the mirelurks you had killed. "dinner."

while cutting the mirelurks open, you observe the way he walks around you. his muscles bulging a little as he cuts a mirelurk open and takes the meat. he was kind of...attractive?

"were you going to come after me?" he stops cutting hearing your question. "in the water, i mean."

"so what if i did?" cooper averts his eyes.

"that's sweet of you. i didn't know you had a soft spot for me."

"i don't."

"sure." you can tell he was lying through his teeth.

dinner was a nice, cozy meal. it was delicious. a nice surprise considering the nature of the wasteland.

cooper notices the way you're looking at him. and he looks at you the same way.

though how does this work exactly?

"do you want to..." you try to find a decent way to say this. fuck is a good term. but it felt a little vulgar in the moment.

cooper already knows what you're asking. "absolutely. if you can handle it." he smirks.

it's so cute when he smirks.

you glance over at your bag, looking at your stash of radaway. you had plenty. plus your stash of rad-x too.

"i absolutely can."

[ponderingmoonlight]

You're in ur Sanemi/Kny brainrot era n I'm loving it. But may I entice you with JJK?? Gojo getting unsealed just to find out his wife was blinded by the higher ups who held a grudge against him

The world has been dark for a while now, a never-ending night with no dawn. You lost track of time a long time ago, of days blending into weeks, maybe even months. Ever since the love of your life was taken away from you, nothing was the same as before.

Chaos broke out, a wave of sadness, devastation but also anger crushing down on you. As his beloved wife, many cherished you. But people like the elders…

It was a well-found opportunity for them. Now that Satoru was gone without return, they were free to let their anger out on someone.

And that someone was you.

Since they took your sight in exchange for ‘the horrible things your husband has done to humanity’, the world has been a blur of sounds, scents, and the haunting memories of the last time you saw him.

Satoru.

You sit in silence, your fingers tracing the familiar patterns of the fabric draped over your lap. It's one of his, Gojo's favorite haoris he only wore to special occasions or when he tried to seduce you into bed. You hold onto it like a lifeline, the last tangible piece of him you have left. You don’t know what’s worse: the darkness that swallowed your sight or the hollow emptiness that came with his absence. The higher-ups... they told you he was gone for good, that he was never coming back.

But you never believed them. You couldn't.

The door creaks open, and you stiffen. You've grown accustomed to the way people move around you, the way they think you won’t notice their presence. But this... this is different. You feel it - a surge of cursed energy, powerful and unmistakable. It’s overwhelming, drowning out everything else in its presence. Who is this? A sorcerer you didn’t meet before?

“(y/n).”

His voice is the first thing that breaks through the fog and pondering, that familiar lilt that used to make your heart race. You don’t dare to breathe, afraid that this is just another cruel trick your mind is playing on you. But then you hear it again, closer this time, filled with a mix of relief and something darker, something simmering just beneath the surface.

“(y/n).”

Your name. Unmistakably out of his mouth.

“Satoru?”

Your voice trembles, barely a whisper. The air feels heavier, charged with his cursed energy as it presses against your skin.

You feel his hand before anything else, warm and solid as it cups your cheek. He’s here. He’s real. But the second your fingers touch his, you notice the way they twitch, the subtle tremor running through them.

“What did they do to you?”

His voice cracks, and it shatters something inside you. Of course, Satoru doesn’t know what the elders did to you. He didn’t learn about the fact that they blinded you on his behalf.

You try to smile, but it falters.

“They... they wanted to punish you, Satoru. They knew taking you from me wasn't enough. Just in chase you decide to come back…”

Silence stretches between you, heavy and suffocating. His thumb brushes over your cheek, and you can feel his hesitation, the way his breath hitches as if he’s trying to hold back the storm raging inside him.

“They took my sight,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“They wanted me to suffer in the dark... to make sure I never see the light again, that I will never be able to see you again, even if you manage to return.”

A sharp intake of breath is his only response at first. Then, he pulls you into his arms, holding you so tightly you can feel the frantic beat of his heart against your own. The world outside is chaos, but here in his embrace, it’s just the two of you. And for a moment, you let yourself believe that everything will be okay, that his return will make everything right.

But the darkness is still there, an endless void behind your eyes, a constant reminder of what you’ve lost. And you know, deep down, you'll never be the same again. Your whole marriage will never be the same again.

What if something like this happens again? What if your husband eventually doesn’t manage to escape? Those past months, you never lost hope, always waited right here on the couch for his return. But those cruel moments of waiting, of losing that spark of hope in your heart taught you more than urgently that even Satoru Gojo can’t escape everything.

“I’ll make them pay for this,” Satoru murmurs, his voice low and dangerous, promising retribution.

“I swear on everything, (y/n). I’ll make them regret the day they ever thought they could hurt you.”

You nod, pressing your face into his chest, breathing in his scent as if trying to commit it to your memory.

“I know you will. But, Satoru... I’m just glad you’re back.”

He pulls back slightly, his hand still cradling your face as if you’re something fragile, something precious.

“I’m never leaving you again. Not now, not ever.”

You want to believe him, want to trust that things will somehow return to the way they were. But even as he holds you close, you can’t help but feel the weight of everything you’ve lost.

And as you lean into his arms, the darkness remains, an inescapable part of you now. But with Satoru here, maybe, just maybe, you can find a way to live in it. Together.

[sweetiecutie]

Warnings: none, König is afraid of women lol, pure fluff, König being all over you <3

Loser!Metalhead!König whom you met through a shared friend at the small party. It’s not even a party as such - about ten young people gathered with food and drinks, light music playing softly on the background as everyone chatted and laughed. Your eyes fell upon tall dark figure in the corner - a giant of a man was sitting silently, listening to a conversation his other two friends were having, adding to it time to time.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is silent, aloof and even intimidating, with his long hair and black band t-shirts with skulls and chains and scary looking letters. You think he doesn’t like you first time you approach him, just nodding curtly at whatever you have to say, occasionally giving the shortest, driest responses. But, strangely, you don’t feel any hostility coming from him, his presence open and welcoming, even despite his detached and even awkward demeanour.

Loser!Metalhead!König who actually freaks the fuck out when a pretty little thing like yourself comes up to talk to him. He’s struck, not knowing what to do or what to say, his fear of women, especially as gorgeous and beautiful as you, showing up on its fullest. Being more of a listener naturally he just lets you ramble his ear off, taking in your every word even if it looks like he doesn’t care much about what you have to say.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is drastically different from you. You, with your pretty pink crop top and baby blue jeans, white ribbons adorning your hair and glossed plump lips curving so gorgeously in a smile, are a complete opposite to König - huge burly body clad in all black and heavy chains, thick forearms and bulging biceps, thick eyebrows knitted together, a frown that seems to be permanent is tainting his sharp features.

Loser!Metalhead!König who can’t get you out of his head, memories of you flooding his brain for the next few weeks. You just struck him like lightning - your syrupy voice, gentle eyes gazing up at him as you told him some silly story from your childhood - in the dead of night König’s mind unmistakably wandered back to them, getting lost in your orbs all over again, broad chest filling with warm buzz.

Loser!Metalhead!König whom you meet weeks later in a city centre, accidentally running into him on your way back home from running errands. Your eyes light up upon recognising your new acquaintance, lips stretching in a wide smile and König feels as if all the air is being punched out of his chest. You greet him heartily, asking how he’s been and what he’s up to currently. And König, shocking himself even, grasps the opportunity, asking if you’d like to go grab some coffee because he’s dying for one right now (read as: I’m so painfully into you I’ll use any excuse to be around you). And you happily agree, leading him to that one coffee shop you love, which serves the most delicious chocolate cake he’ll ever have.

Loser!Metalhead!König who spends the rest of the day with you, first in the coffee shop and then going for a walk around the centre of Vienna, just talking about everything. Your bubbly and easygoing personality eases him out of his shell, making him talk more freely about his interests and hobbies, his chest tightening proudly upon seeing your amazed expression as he told you of his passion for playing guitars and drums, promising to teach you how to play a few chords in a future.

Loser!Metalhead!König who happily exchanges instas with you (his pictureless profile with 4 followers and name like kng69 lmao) scrolling in awe through all the photos you have there, littering your phone with repeated notifications of new like on your post. He’s sad when he notices the time, you telling him that you have to go home now, his ears perking up at your upset tone, meaning that you don’t want this day to end just as much as König does. He waits for your taxi to arrive, making sure you get in the right car, wishing you a safe ride home.

Loser!Metalhead!König who texts you on ig an hour later, asking if you got home safe. That message makes you smile stupidly at your phone as you reassure him that you’re all safe and sound at your place, adding that you enjoyed today and would like to meet up with König again someday. Now he’s the one grinning at his phone, pale blush dusting his high cheekbones as he lays sleepless in his bed, head full of buzzing thoughts and every single one of them is painfully full of you<3

A/n: might write part 2 of that, lmk if you’d like it🤭

[shrimpybbq]

Gwayne Hightower corrupting his sweet Targaryen niece!

His young niece is sent to Oldtown with her younger brother Daeron, much to Gwayne’s delight.

Though she’s a Targaryen, she looks so much like her mother and Gwayne is simply infatuated with her. His niece was Helaena’s twin, the girl much more lucid and rooted in the earth than her sister.

Gwayne who takes her under his wing, allowing the pair to form a strong bond as she learns more about Oldtown and the history of the Hightower’s.

Gwayne watches as his sweet niece seems to grow even more beautiful as she’s older. He notices the attention she draws and the leering gazes men level at her. It makes something in his chest burn.

His niece was expected to return to Kings Landing when she became of age, and yet the time has passed and her mother and father have not sent for her yet. Gwayne comforts his sweet niece though he’s secretly happy and enjoying her presence remaining longer.

Gwayne finds it more and more difficult to resist his niece as she clings to him more in her sadness, his body growing warm at the idea of taking her for himself. He reasons with himself: if her mother married her other daughter to her full-blooded brother then surely an uncle is a less egregious pairing. Gwayne’s been influenced too much by the Targaryen views at this point.

Gwayne seizes the opportunity to corrupt his niece once and for all when she cries desperately in her arms. She’s sobbing about how no man will ever want her as a wife if she never returns to the capital, how her family do not love her, how her mother sent away.

He’s taking her teary face in his hands softly, brushing her hair back from her face as he looks into her wide eyes. The heavy kiss he places on her lips has her momentarily shocked before she tentatively responds. Gwayne’s slowly guiding her lips in the way he likes, revelling in the feeling as her fingers begin threading through his hair.

Gwayne doesn’t fuck her straight away, no, he waits and waits until his niece is so dependant on him, hanging off his every word. She’s visiting the sept with him each day, dining with him and letting him kiss her as much as he wants.

But once he does, there is no one in the world that he would let take her away from him. He would show Otto the bloodied sheets from their coupling and watch his face fall in horror, disgusted at the sullying of a proper Targaryen princess. Otto didn’t think he had it in him, not to do something so vile.

Gwayne gets his way and soon his pretty little niece is standing in front of him in the Sept at Oldtown, exchanging vows with him.

Alicent is beside herself. Her sweet daughter corrupted and defiled by her own uncle, someone she trusted her with.

Gwayne and his new wife are the picture of marital bliss, always giggling and mumbling to each other. The maids in the keep at Oldtown are always giggling as they walk past their chambers; the gasps and groans escaping enough to make a grown man blush.

Gwayne fucks his wife good. I said it. He’s a munch too and 100% makes his wife cum at least once before getting into the main action. He’s got his niece wrapped around his finger and anytime he wants her, he has her.

It’s no surprise when the Red Keep receives a raven announcing the pregnancy of the Targaryen princess, a babe expected no more than 9 months after their wedding (they got down to business right away!).

(Aegon’s giggling at the rage colouring his mothers expression. He loves seeing her so unsettled and makes a note to tease her AS MUCH as possible.)

[thef1diary]

One Last Night | G. Russell

Summary: As you finalize your divorce from George, he convinces you to spend one last night together in the home you once shared, leading to a night filled with intimacy and emotional complexity.

this one is for @chilling-seavey the sole reason why George is in the top 5 of my fav drivers, I hope you like this one 🤭

masterlist

warnings: 18+ smut, angst, unprotected sex, a bit of hand kink, choking, fingering, oral, lots of emotions

wc: 7.1k (I got a lil carried away with this one ngl)

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

The sun sets over the horizon, casting a warm, orange glow over the house you once called home. The day’s emotional exhaustion weighs heavily on you, the act of signing papers and exchanging awkward glances, finalizing the divorce that both of you knew was inevitable yet difficult to accept. You sit on the porch steps, wanting a breath of fresh air while your eyes lingered on the small garden you and George once tended with care. The flowers, once vibrant and full of life, now stand shriveled and faded, mirroring the love that once flourished between you has since withered away.

George’s voice breaks the silence, a gentle intrusion on your thoughts as he calls your name, his tone devoid of the pet names he once used. You lift your head to see him standing there, his face a blend of sorrow and nostalgia. He takes a step closer, before lowering himself to sit beside you, a few inches too far away.

The space between you feels like an insurmountable chasm, filled with all the words left unsaid, all the efforts that fell short, and the moments you can never get back.

He speaks again, his voice softer and if your heart didn’t already ache with the necessity of leaving him, it would’ve when he said your full name, emphasizing your maiden name. The sound of it, spoken by him, sends a shiver down your spine, a bittersweet reminder of the life you lived before becoming George’s wife, before dating him.

“It’s been a while since I called you by that name,” he murmurs, his bright blue eyes searching for yours with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the silence. You find yourself unable to resist, drawn into his gaze as if pulled by an invisible force. The familiarity of his eyes, the depth of longing ensnares you, like it always did.

“Yes, it has,” you reply, your voice a mere whisper, barely breaking through the hush of the evening. The weight of his words lingers in the air, filling the space between you with a poignant nostalgia that tugs at your heart. The simple utterance of your maiden name, once so familiar, now feels like a delicate thread connecting you to a past filled with both love and loss.

Even though there’s a physical distance between your bodies, your hands find each other, resting lightly on the porch. Slowly, your fingers inch closer, making a tentative connection that speaks volumes without words. The warmth of his skin, the familiar feel of his touch, sends a ripple of emotion through you, a vivid reminder of the intimacy you once shared.

You try to keep your thoughts clear, reminding yourself that you’re no longer his, no longer Mrs. Russell. The weight of that truth hangs heavy in the space between you, a stark contrast to the intimacy of your touch.

The tenderness in your fingers grazing his is a reflection of what you once had, but also of what has irrevocably changed. You feel the echo of old feelings stirring, the ones you had just begun to push down, but you hold onto the reality that this moment, this connection, is all that remains. The warmth that used to be a part of your everyday life now feels like a fleeting memory, a bittersweet echo of a love that has transformed into a shared, yet separate, past.

“So, what’s next for you?” he asks, his voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and sadness, a reflection of the weight of letting you go from his life. The question hangs in the air, imbued with a sense of finality and the unspoken acknowledgment that this might be one of the last times he will ask about your future. A future that you’ll be spending without him.

“I’ve decided to finally open that bakery I’ve always dreamed of. It’s something new to look forward to.”

His eyes lit up with a hint of the old George you remember, a small smile playing on his lips. “Will I get any special treatment whenever I visit?”

You shake your head, the smile fading slightly as reality intrudes. “You probably won’t have time to stop by with your busy schedule.”

An awkward silence descends, punctuated by the weight of unfulfilled promises and unmet expectations. The stillness is heavy with the echoes of unspoken regrets and the haunting reminder of what could have been. The conversation stirs a whirlwind of memories, each one a testament to how, over time, George’s career began to overshadow your relationship.

The subtle shift began with small, seemingly insignificant changes—dinner dates frequently postponed, weekend getaways cancelled, and conversations that once flowed effortlessly now reduced to hurried exchanges. His passion for racing, which you once admired and supported, gradually turned into an all-consuming force that claimed more of his time and energy. The promise he made to never let his work come between you gradually eroded, like a fading echo in the vast expanse of his ambition.

You initially accepted the demands of his career, understanding that racing was his first love and the source of his greatest fulfillment. You saw it as an inevitable part of his life, one that you could accommodate as long as it didn’t overshadow your shared moments. But as the months passed, the imbalance became increasingly unbearable. The distance grew, not just in physical terms but in emotional connection. The shared dreams and future plans you once held close began to dissolve, replaced by a solitary sense of longing and disappointment.

Each missed milestone, each neglected promise, built a wall of isolation between you. What started as an occasional inconvenience became a persistent source of heartache. The intimacy you once shared, the spontaneous affection and deep conversations, gave way to a routine marked by George’s relentless pursuit of success. The career that once bound you together now stood as a formidable barrier, leaving you feeling like a secondary consideration in the grand scheme of his ambitions.

You don’t allow your thoughts to linger on the past for too long, on wondering what could’ve been if you both put in a little more effort instead of watching it play out like a movie

You break the silence, your voice trembling slightly as you ask, “and what about you? What’s next for you?”

George’s gaze drifts to the horizon, as though the future is mapped out in the darkness of the night. “I’ll be back on the track as usual. Flying out next week, you know how it goes. It’s a busy schedule but it’s what I do.”

His words are matter-of-fact, yet there’s an undercurrent of melancholy in his tone. He turns his eyes back to you, a flicker of something almost wistful crossing his face. “I’ll miss having you there,” he adds quietly. “Your support, your presence—it made a difference. I always looked forward to seeing you in the stands.”

The sincerity in his voice tugs at something deep inside you. You nod, forcing a smile. “I’m sure the races will be just as thrilling without me. You’ll have plenty of fans cheering you on.”

He smiles faintly, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s not the same,” he says softly. “There was always something special about having you there, cheering me on. I’m going to miss that.”

The honesty in his confession stirs a pang of regret within you. You both know that his career, while a source of pride, has become the very thing that separated you.

George sighs, his thumb brushing lightly against your fingers, reminding you that his hand never left yours. “I never wanted it to end like this,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “In fact, I never wanted it to end at all.”

He clears his throat, the raw emotion evident in his next words. “I thought I could balance everything—my career and us—but I failed. I’m sorry for making you feel like you were never enough. The truth is, you were and still are everything to me.”

Tears prick at your eyes, threatening to spill over, but you blink them away with a deliberate effort. Drawing a deep breath, you muster the strength to respond. “It’s not entirely your fault, you know,” you say softly, your voice quivering with the weight of your emotions.

“You don’t need to apologize. I suppose I should apologize for intruding on your well-laid plans. You always wanted a world championship under your belt, and I genuinely hope you achieve that soon, without having to worry about me.”

As he begins to shake his head in protest, you turn away, pulling your hand gently from his grasp before standing up. “I should’ve realized sooner that your trophies would always hold a higher place in your life than I ever could.”

You made the mistake of glancing at him after your words, and saw him visibly flinch, the impact of your parting words etched clearly on your face. The pain in his expression mirrored the ache in your heart, a stark reminder of the mutual suffering this conversation had caused. The intensity of the moment made it clear that any further discussion would only deepen the emotional wounds.

Deciding to end it there and spare both of you more heartache, you turned away and headed towards the porch steps. You had already planned your leave with a sense of reluctant resolve: you would spend the night at a nearby hotel before flying out the following morning to stay with your sister, seeking comfort and a fresh start in her home.

As you begin to walk down the steps, George’s voice reaches out to you, filled with a mix of urgency and regret. “Where are you going? You’re supposed to leave tomorrow, please, stay here for just one more night.”

You pause, the sincerity in his voice making you hesitate. Turning back, you see the raw vulnerability in his eyes, and something in you shifts. The weight of your decision presses heavily on your chest.

George steps closer, his face pleading as he gently cups your cheeks in his hands. “I want to make it up to you,” he says softly. “I know I should’ve valued you more, I could’ve balanced my life better, I would’ve done everything to keep us together if I’d realized sooner.”

You feel the weight of his words, the sincerity evident in every syllable. You placed your hand atop of his, and for a brief moment, he braces himself for you to push him away. Instead, you simply hold on, a gesture that speaks of the lingering affection between you.

“Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve,” you repeat softly. “It’s too late to blame our past selves for the consequences we face now.”

“Please, stay,” George’s voice trembles, his eyes pleading as he grapples with the reality of your departure, even though the papers are signed and the decision is final.

The raw emotion in his eyes, the vulnerability of his plea, makes your resolve waver. With a sigh, you nod slowly, feeling the tight noose around your heart loosen, giving it a chance to beat. “Alright,” you agree softly. “I’ll stay for one more night.”

In an instant, you close the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him. You cling to him tightly, the familiar warmth of his embrace bringing a flood of bittersweet memories. Despite everything, despite knowing that the circumstances could never change, the love you still feel for him is undeniable.

George holds you just as tightly, burying his face in your hair. “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for giving me this one last chance.”

You stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the silence speak for the love and regrets that words can’t fully capture. For tonight, you can forget the world outside, the signed papers, and the impending separation. For tonight, it’s just you and him, holding on to the remnants of what once was.

George leads you back into the house, his hand warm and steady in yours. Inside, a calm, almost sacred stillness envelops you both. You hadn’t known what to expect, but this quiet comfort is a relief. As you step further in, your eyes fall on the photo frames carefully placed around the room. Each one tells a story of you and George, moments frozen in time, even a few from your wedding day, radiant and full of promise.

Your breath hitches as a thought crosses your mind, a pang of uncertainty mingling with nostalgia. You wonder how soon George will clean up, scrubbing away the memories of your relationship. Part of you knows he still loves you and wouldn’t simply discard them. Yet, you also know the ache these images must bring, a constant reminder of what was and what could have been.

You don’t ask him. The question lingers unspoken between you, too heavy to voice. You can’t bear to hear his answer, whether he’ll keep them or not. It’s easier to pretend, to let the silence hold the unknown.

He glances at you, his eyes following your gaze to the photos. The sadness in his expression mirrors your own thoughts, a silent understanding passing between you.

“Would you like some tea?” he asks, his voice gentle, pulling you back from your reverie.

“That sounds nice,” you reply softly, following him into the kitchen.

The initial awkwardness lingers as you move around each other, carefully choosing your words, mindful of the delicate peace. But as you start to talk about random things, the tension begins to ease. George makes a conscious effort to avoid mentioning racing, and you appreciate it, finding solace in the mundane topics that once filled your conversations.

As hunger sets in, you decide to cook dinner together. In the kitchen, it’s like clockwork. You move around each other with ease, falling back into old routines.

George chops vegetables while you stir a pot on the stove, the familiar rhythm soothing your frayed nerves. You pass utensils and ingredients back and forth without a second thought, your movements synchronized like a well-rehearsed dance.

“Can you hand me the garlic?” George asks, glancing up at you with a familiar warmth in his eyes.

“Sure,” you say, passing it to him. Your fingers brush, sending a jolt of electricity through you. You catch his eye, and for a moment, the tension is palpable.

As you continue preparing dinner, the air thickens with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. The scent of sautéing garlic fills the room, mingling with the warmth of your shared history.

At one point, you reach for a spice jar on a high shelf. George steps in behind you, his body just inches taller than yours. He places his hands gently on your waist, his fingers barely grazing the bare skin beneath the hem of your shirt, steadying you as you stretch to grab the jar.

You open your mouth to question the unexpected intimacy, but before you can speak, he steps away, his touch lingering like a ghost. He moves to another task, his presence still wrapped around you even though he’s no longer at your side.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart, and continue cooking. The moments of contact are electric, charged with the sexual tension that neither of you dares to act on yet. The unspoken connection between you simmers, waiting to boil over.

As you both move through the kitchen, old jokes and new stories begin to flow. The dinner preparations become an unexpected dance of nostalgia and bittersweet reality, each touch and glance filled with meaning.

As you and George finish cooking, the comforting aroma of the meal fills the kitchen. Together, you set the table, your movements in perfect harmony.

Though you sit across from each other, the table is small enough that if either of you were to stretch your legs, you’d touch. That closeness adds a layer of anticipation, your legs brushing occasionally as you both take your first bites. The flavours are rich and familiar, but the food is secondary to the charged atmosphere around you.

“Remember the first time we tried making this?” George says, his smile tinged with nostalgia.

You laugh softly, nodding. “How could I forget? We nearly burned the kitchen down.”

He chuckles, the sound warm and comforting. “I think we’ve improved since then.”

As you share this moment, you can’t help but graze his leg with your foot under the table, a fleeting touch that sends a thrill through you. George’s eyes flicker with something deeper, a response to the subtle contact. He reached across the table, taking your hand in his, the warmth of his touch grounding you. His thumb gently strokes your knuckles, and the simple act feels intimate, rekindling the connection you thought you had lost.

As he holds your hand, you’re acutely aware of the difference in size. His hand, though not drastically larger, envelopes yours with a comforting presence. You watch as his slender fingers wrap around yours, their familiar warmth a stark reminder of the countless times they explored every inch of your body—especially around your neck, constricting your airway, or on your thighs, gripping tightly as he held them spread open.

George brings your entwined hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss on the back of your hand, letting his lips linger on your skin for a few moments too long.

A playful impulse overtakes you. You let your foot drift up from the floor, lightly tracing its way up his leg. The touch is feather-light, a teasing caress that sends a thrill through both of you. Your foot slides slowly up his calf, over his knee, and eventually finds its way to his thigh, lingering there.

George’s breath catches, and you feel the tension in his body tighten as his grasp on your palm loosens. His gaze locks with yours, a mixture of surprise and desire flickering in his eyes. You keep your foot gently resting on his thigh, savouring the intimacy of the contact, watching his expression shift from playful to deeply affected.

He mutters your name, “what are you doing?”

Your eyes twinkle with mischief as you shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

George raises his eyebrows, a sly smile painting on his lips as he decides to play your game. “Oh really?”

You maintain your playful facade, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Really,” you reply, trying to keep your tone innocent despite the heat building between you.

George’s hand slips from yours, moving with deliberate slowness to rest on your leg, his fingers lightly brushing against your ankle, pressing it deeper against his thigh.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “And here I thought you wanted me to be a gentleman tonight,” he murmurs, his voice a sultry whisper that makes your pulse quicken.

Without breaking eye contact, you let your foot inch higher, sliding it delicately between his thighs. It comes to rest over the zipper of his jeans, the contact making you both shiver. His reaction is immediate—his breath catches, and he whispers your name, the sound slipping from his lips with a sinful sweetness that sends a wave of heat through you.

“You thought wrong,” you reply swiftly, a sultry smirk playing on your lips.

George’s breath hitches at your words, a shiver running through his body as you maintain your foot’s gentle pressure, knowing you can feel his hardening cock straining against the denim.

He extends a hand towards you, his fingers curling in a beckoning motion, deliberately mimicking the way he would caress you in more intimate moments. The gesture sends a shiver down your spine, making your breath catch, and instinctively clench your thighs, fighting to control the rush of sensations.

“Come here,” he murmurs, his voice husky and insistent.

You can’t resist the command, the raw magnetism of his presence pulling you towards him. You stand up slowly, the chair scraping softly against the floor as you move. George’s eyes follow your every motion, his piercing eyes remaining on you as you near him.

As you stand between his legs, he pushes his chair back slightly, creating space needed for you to be close. He reaches out, his hands grasping your hips gently but firmly, drawing you nearer. His hands slide up your sides, a touch both tender and possessive, as he gazes up at you with a look that promises more.

He’s quick to pull you on his lap, earning a gasp from your parted lips. George’s grip tightens around your waist, his touch a mix of possessiveness and tenderness. He pulls you closer, his body pressed against yours, and you can feel the fierce need in his actions.

“You have no idea what you’ve started,” he murmurs, his voice a seductive purr. He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “No matter what papers we’ve signed, you’re still mine tonight.”

“This,” his fingers hold your left hand, grazing his thumb over the ring still adorned on your finger, “stays on. Just for tonight.”

You close your eyes, letting the weight of his words sink in. The reality of your separation fades into the background as you allow yourself to sink into the fantasy of being his again, if only for a few hours. His touch is intoxicating, a heady blend of past affection and present desire. You give in to the moment, your body responding to his with a familiarity that is both thrilling and deeply comforting.

George’s lips trace a burning path down your neck, leaving kisses that deepen into marks. His lips press against your skin with an almost reverent touch, a dark bruise forming beneath his kisses, a parting gift of sorts that will serve as a reminder of what you shared tonight. He smiles against your skin, satisfied with the mark he’s left, knowing it would evoke memories of tonight whenever you see it over the next few days.

His kisses drift lower, his hand subtly pulling your shirt lower, exposing more of your bare skin to his hungry lips. The heat of this touch, and the slow, deliberate exploration of your body made you shiver, your head tilting back instinctively as you gasp his name. Your hips shift, seeking the friction you crave, driven by the intense need building between your legs.

When George finally pulls back, he chuckles softly as the whimper that escapes your lips. “Look at you,” he murmurs with a teasing edge to his tone. “So desperate already.”

He shifts slightly, his hands sliding up your sides to cradle your face. The tender yet firm grip draws you closer, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. Suddenly, you feel a moment of hesitation, a thought flitting through your mind about the intimacy of kissing him. You almost speak, wanting to tell him that perhaps this was too much, too close for a night meant to be a parting. But the look in his eyes, the sheer depth of his need, pulls you in, rendering you speechless.

In a heartbeat, his lips meet yours, and you lose yourself in the kiss. It’s a fierce, consuming connection, full of all the love and desire that has simmered between you for so long.

As you kiss him, you’re painfully aware that your actions now will likely lead to regret and heartache for your future self. But in this moment, you’re allowing yourself to enjoy the intimacy and closeness, even as you recognize that tomorrow’s pain is a consequence of tonight’s decisions. You surrender to the moment, letting it erase the boundaries the divorce created, allowing yourself to be his once more, just for a few more hours.

His tongue slips in between your lips, teasing and caressing with a gentle insistence that makes your knees weak.

Your hand lingers on his chest, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt, a silent plea for him to remove it. But he’s so absorbed in your kisses that he barely notices. You pull back just enough to murmur against his lips. “Mm, take your shirt off, baby.”

With a low, breathy chuckle, he pulls away just enough to slip his shirt over his head, tossing it aside. As his bare chest comes into view, you can’t help but trace your fingers over his skin, the muscles beneath your fingertips tensing with every caress.

Before you can place your lips on his skin, his hand gently rests against your throat, holding you back with just enough pressure to make you pause. “Your turn, sweetheart,” he commands.

The return of the pet name makes a blush creep up your cheek. With a slight nod, you move back, your hands reaching for the hem of your shirt. Your eyes stay locked on his as you slowly pull the fabric up and over your head, letting it slip from your fingers and fall to the floor.

George’s gaze roams over you, drinking in the sight of your exposed torso. He pulls you back towards him, his hands sliding up your sides, tracing the curves of your body with utmost care.

He leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to the hollow of your throat, the spot where his hand had just been. The warmth of his lips sends shivers through your body, and you feel a surge of anticipation. As he kisses your skin, his hands move with practiced ease to the clasp of your bra. In one fluid motion, he undoes it, and the flimsy material falls away, landing softly in your lap, leaving your upper body fully exposed to him.

George pulls back slightly, his gaze roaming over you with unabashed desire. His eyes darken as they take in the sight of you, the soft glow of the kitchen light casting a warm hue on your skin. He reaches up, his fingers tracing the curve of your collarbone, down to the swell of your breasts, his touch light but electric.

“You’re perfect,” he breathes, his voice thick with admiration and lust. The words send a rush of warmth through you, making you feel both cherished and desired.

His lips return to your body, this time trailing down from your throat, licking each darkening mark he left earlier, to your collarbone, then lower. Each kiss is slow and deliberate, as if he’s savouring the moment, etching each inch of your body into his mind. When his mouth reaches the sensitive skin of your breast, his tongue flicks out to tease, eliciting a soft moan from you. He takes his time, worshiping you with his lips and tongue, making you arch into his touch, seeking more.

Your hands find their way to his broad shoulders, gripping him tightly as the pleasure builds. George’s fingers dance across your skin, exploring every inch exposed to him, while his mouth continues its maddeningly slow descent. He pauses to take one nipple in his mouth, sucking gently before grazing his teeth lightly, as his other hand kneads your other breast. The dual sensations make you gasp, your head falling back in pleasure.

As he continues to lavish attention on your chest, you feel the heat pooling in your core, your body responding to his every touch. You grind against him, seeking friction, feeling the hardness of his cock, still strained underneath his jeans.

George lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours, filled with a mix of tenderness and hunger. “I want you,” he whispers.

You nod, breathless and needy. “I’m yours,” you reply, “just for tonight, I’m yours.”

Without another word, George lifts you effortlessly, his hands strong and sure as they grip your waist. You wrap your legs around his torso, feeling the heat of his body against yours as he carries you upstairs. He pushes the bedroom door open with his shoulder, his lips finding yours again in a hungry kiss.

George sets you down gently in the middle of the bed, placing a tender kiss on your lips before moving down your body as you lie back. His touch is both reverent and teasing, his fingers trailing down your skin, igniting a trail of fire in their wake. He stops at your breasts, giving each nipple the attention it craves. He circles his thumb around the peak, teasing you, before pinching the bud sharply between his fingers, earning a needy whine from your lips. He envelops your nipple in the heat of his mouth, easing the sting with a filthy, wet kiss, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak. Moving away, he repeats his actions on your other nipple, each touch sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

George continues his journey down your body, his lips leaving a trail of kisses and love bites, sucking as many marks as he wishes. Each bruise is a reminder of his presence, a mark of possession that makes your core throb with desire. He reaches the hem of your pants and glances up at you, his eyes widening when he realizes you are already watching him, your gaze intense as he drives you to the brink of madness.

“Please, George,” you mutter, your voice already raw from the moans you’ve let out. The plea is filled with desperation and need, your body aching for more of his touch.

He slides his fingers below the waistband of your pants, his touch electrifying. You lift your hips to help him remove the fabric, making it easier for him to pull your pants away from your body. He parts your thighs, settling himself on his knees between them. His eyes glaze over with desire as he takes in the sight of your soaked panties. You might have felt embarrassed by how wet you are, but the way his eyes darken with hunger reassures you. He licks his lips, his gaze never leaving your covered pussy.

He reluctantly shifts his gaze to meet your eyes again. “You’re dripping, love. Glad to know I still have that effect on you,” he states, dragging his thumb over your cunt, causing you to instinctively push your hips up, but it’s no avail as he moves his hand away, leaving you aching for more.

You roll your eyes at his words. “You always have that effect on me, don’t act like you didn’t know that.”

He chuckles, sitting back on his haunches, bringing his thumb up to his lips. Your mouth drops open as he licks your wetness off his thumb, humming delightfully at the taste.

“Ah, mouthy now?” He shook his head in faux disappointment. “By the time I’m done with you, the only word you’ll speak is my name.” He leans over you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before properly settling between your parted thighs, his face near your covered cunt.

With a sudden rough motion, he grabs your panties and rips them off, the fabric tearing easily in his hand. The sheer force of it sends a thrill through you, a gasp leaving your mouth as you mutter his name.

He tosses the shredded material aside, gaze remaining between your legs. “There’s my pretty cunt,” he mumbles, his voice low and filled with desire. He barely sticks the tip of his tongue out as he notices the glint of your wetness coating your folds.

You clench involuntarily at his words, not going unnoticed by him. He glances at you, a smirk playing on his lips. “Yeah? It’s mine isn’t it?” His voice is a seductive whisper, egging you on, as he watches your reaction.

You nod, a whine escaping your lips as you meet his gaze. “Yes, it’s yours,” you admit, the truth of your words resonating in the heated space between you.

George’s smirk deepens, satisfaction evident in his eyes. “Good girl,” he praises, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

He dips his head, his tongue finally making contact with your pussy. The sensation is electric, your back arching instinctively as your hips lift from the bed. His hands press you back against the mattress, splayed wide on your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin to hold you spread open.

His tongue flicks and circles your clit, driving you wild with need. George takes his time, savouring every moment as he gathers your wetness with his tongue, moaning against your cunt, the vibrations adding to your pleasure.

Your hand finds its way into his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you hold him close. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, your body arching into his touch as he brings you closer and closer to release.

George’s eyes flick up to meet yours, the intensity in his eyes sending another wave of pleasure through you. He moves one hand from your thigh to your cunt, collecting the slick between your folds. He coats his finger before sliding it inside you, the sensation making you gasp.

One finger quickly turns into two, pumping them in and out of you, matching the rhythm of his tongue. His fingers, long and skilled, find that perfect spot inside you, making you see stars. The pleasure builds rapidly, each thrust and lick driving you closer to the edge.

When he adds a third finger, your body reacts instantly, a cry escaping your lips. “George,” you moan, barely able to utter a warning before your orgasm crashes over you. Wave after wave of pleasure washes through your body, your muscles clenching around his fingers. You call out his name, your body trembling as he continues to work you through your climax, his relentless tongue and fingers not stopping until you’re completely spent.

He finally eases his fingers out of you, his mouth trailing kisses up your body, tasting the sheen of sweat on your skin. He reaches your lips, pressing a gentle kiss there, tasting yourself on his mouth.

You’re breathless, your body still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. “I want you,” you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse from the intensity.

George’s eyes darken with desire, his own breath coming in shallow gasps. “I want you too,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. He leans back, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes, the sight of his naked body stirring a fresh wave of arousal within you.

George leans over you, positioning himself between your legs once more, but this time his hardened cock nudges your pussy. Sliding it between your folds, he slicks up his length with your cum, nudging your clit a few times with the tip, each touch sending jolts of pleasure through you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “Please, George,” you plead, your voice breathless with desire. “Stop teasing me.”

With a deep groan, George finally slides into you, filling you completely. He pauses for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the sensation, then almost pulls out before thrusting back in, taking your breath away. The sensation is overwhelming, your bodies perfectly in sync as he sets a brutal pace. Each thrust is powerful and deliberate, hitting the perfect spot inside you.

The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you intimately connected, lost in the moment. The room is filled with obscene sounds—gasps, moans, the slick sound of skin slapping against skin. Every thrust sends waves of pleasure through your body, each movement driving you closer to the edge.

George’s movements become more urgent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he loses himself in the heat of your cunt enveloping him over and over. “You feel so good,” he mutters, his voice strained with desire and pleasure.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving marks as you cling to him. Your only response is a moan, your voice filled with raw need. The pleasure builds rapidly in your core, your body tightening around him, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

George brings his fingers to your lips. “Open,” he commands, his voice deep, his accent more prominent. You obey him, sticking your tongue out and taking his fingers into your mouth, sucking on them and muffling your moans.

His fingers, now slick with your spit, leave your mouth and travel to your clit. He pinches it between his fingers, then begins rubbing tight circles, the added stimulation making your body tremble. His other hand finds its way to your throat, applying just enough pressure to restrict a bit of oxygen entering your body. The combination of sensations makes you clench down on him, your body responding to every touch, every thrust.

George’s thrusts become even more frenzied, his grip on your throat tightening slightly. The pleasure is overwhelming, your body on a brink of another release so soon. His fingers on your clit, his hand on your throat, his cock filling you completely—it’s all too much.

“Cum for me,” he demands, his voice rough. “Cum for me, love.”

The command sends you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you. You cry out his name, your body trembling as you cling to him, your nails digging into his skin.

George follows you over the edge, a deep groan escaping his lips as he reaches his own release. His thrusts slow down as he fills you with his cum, his body shuddering.

Pulling out, he collapses on top of you, his body spent but his arms wrap around you, holding you close. Your breaths are ragged, your bodies covered in a sheen of sweat but you stay entwined, savouring the closeness and intimacy of the moment.

After a few moments, George lifts himself off you, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. He leaves the bed and returns with a warm damp cloth, carefully cleaning you up. His touch is soft and soothing, a stark contrast to the raw intensity you just shared.

As you lie there, your eyes drift to the clock, noting the time with a heavy heart. Only a few hours remain before sunrise. Though you keep your thoughts to yourself, a mental countdown begins, marking each fleeting minute as the fantasy edges closer to its inevitable end. For now, you push those thoughts aside, unwilling to let them intrude upon the closeness you’ve been granted.

George settles back into bed, drawing you into his embrace. His body is warm and reassuring, and he holds you close, as if trying to anchor you both in this fragile moment. His fingers gently stroke your hair, and his murmured words are soft, a soothing balm against the emotional rawness you both feel.

In his arms, you allow yourself to savor the love and tenderness that had been absent from your relationship, even though you know it comes too late. You stroke his cheek with your thumb, pulling him in for a kiss that’s slow and filled with an aching sadness. This kiss is not driven by the fiery passion of earlier but is instead a testament to the longing and melancholy that now defines your connection.

George tries to change the pace, his hands cupping your face as if to draw you back into a passionate kiss, but you resist, determined to let this moment linger. Each touch, each kiss, is a memory you wish to imprint deeply into your mind, a final, bittersweet echo of what might have been.

When you finally pull away, you rest your forehead against his, eyes closed as if to shield yourself from the inevitable morning. The silence between you feels dense and heavy, like quicksand pulling you both deeper into an emotional mire. It’s a silence that speaks volumes, a quiet weight that settles heavily on your hearts.

His voice breaks through the silence, soft yet resolute. “I love you,” he murmurs, the words wrapped in a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

You take a shaky breath, feeling the sting of tears behind your eyelids. “I’ll always love you too,” you reply, your voice barely more than a whisper, yet filled with a depth of emotion that words alone can scarcely capture.

In that fleeting, fragile moment, you hold onto each other, letting the intimacy of your shared silence and the echo of your promises wrap around you like a bittersweet embrace. The world outside begins to stir, but within this cocoon of quiet, time seems to stand still, allowing you both to savor the final fragments of a love that was beautiful but not enough.

As the first light of dawn begins to creep through the curtains, a soft glow starts to illuminate the room. George remains close, his breathing steady and calm as he sleeps beside you, but you lie awake, your mind awash with the bittersweetness of the night.

The silence is no longer just a weight; it’s a space where every unsaid word and unresolved feeling seems to echo. You trace patterns on his chest with your fingers, savoring the warmth and the closeness while feeling the sting of impending farewell.

The morning light casts gentle shadows across the room, highlighting the contrast between the intense passion of the night and the tender, almost fragile peace of the morning. You take in the sight of George, his features softened in sleep, a small, wistful smile playing on his lips. It’s a reminder of the affection you’ve longed for, now tinged with the realization of its fleeting nature.

You let your gaze linger on him, the hurt and longing swirling within you. The memory of his touch and his kisses will linger, a beautiful ache that will accompany you as you face the day ahead. Each moment shared is a precious token to be cherished, even as you prepare to confront the reality of your separation.

Gently, you begin to disentangle yourself from his embrace, careful not to disturb him. The softness of the bed and the warmth of his body seem to hold you in a tender cocoon, but you rise, moving with a quiet grace. You dress in the dim light, each movement a silent farewell to the night that has just passed.

With one last look at George, you take a deep breath, trying to memorize the calm of his sleeping face, the last remnant of the passion and intimacy you’ve shared. You leave the room, stepping into the dawn, where the world is awakening and the day is ready to begin.

The fantasy of the night dissolves into the morning’s reality, but the memory of his touch and the echoes of his love will remain with you, a haunting yet beautiful reminder of what once was.

Taglist: @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @namjoonswaifu @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @mehrmonga @wobblymug @bokutos-babyowl @chilling-seavey

[moonstruckme]

Apple pie with spencer read and qn airport terminal qt midnight

Thanks for requesting!

cw: mention of bad eating habits, mentioned unease around germs

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 729 words

“Spence.” Your voice is soft, your fingers combing through his hair even softer. Spencer’s head rests heavy on your shoulder. You shield his eyes from the harsh lights with a hand, hoping to rouse him gently. “Honey, wake up.” 

Spencer’s eyebrows furrow. Or, one does, the other already squished towards furrowing by the way it’s laying on your shoulder. You hate to wake him—Spencer tends to have a hard time relaxing at airports, what with all the germs—but your window to get something to eat is closing. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” you ask him, coaxing. 

“No,” he mumbles, but he’s blinking awake, looking up at you with soft, sleepy brown eyes. “Are you?”

You give him a sheepish smile. “A little. Sorry, do you mind if I get up to go look for something? Everything’s closing.” 

“No, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I almost made you miss dinner.” Spencer sits up, stretching his neck. He pushes his shoulders back lazily, and you can hear his bones crackle. “I’ll go with you.”  

You protest half-heartedly but ultimately capitulate, picking up the heavy backpack before he can and leaving your boyfriend to tow the suitcase. At this time the airport is near empty, the only people to be seen the sad band of vagabonds sitting at your gate waiting for your plane to arrive. You’ve been delayed two hours by the weather. Spencer will have to wake up four hours from when you get home to go to work, you only a half hour later.

You realize as you walk that you may be too late. While the websites you’d checked had said their airport locations would be open until midnight, the employees are already cleaning out machines, wiping down counters, pulling metal gates closed over their entrances. 

Spencer makes a worried oh sound, realizing the same thing.

“There’s an Auntie Anne’s down there,” you say hopefully, starting to walk faster in case they’re closing, too. That glowing yellow sign is your light at the end of the tunnel.

Spencer speeds up with you, but protests, “A pretzel isn’t a meal, sweetheart.” 

“It might be my only option,” you point out. “Also, I saw you eat a bag of salt and vinegar chips for dinner last week. You don’t get to talk.” 

You hear a soft, slightly petulant huff behind you. You might give him shit for it if you weren’t in a rush. 

You try to order as quickly as possible, feeling guilty for making the employee serve you just before close. But then the cup is in your hand, warm and smelling of cinnamon, and you think you probably would have vaulted the counter to get it yourself had she refused you. It’s heavenly. 

You wait until you get back to the gate to start eating, wanting to savor every bite. When you do, you have to close your eyes, forcibly smothering a moan. They’re everything you wanted and more. You shovel them into your mouth faster than is probably safe and definitely faster than anyone’s mother would approve of, and it’s not until you’re more than halfway done that you notice Spencer’s stare.

You give him a wry look. “So now you’re hungry?” 

“What?” He looks startled. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re practically drooling.” 

“No, I’m not,” he says, though you notice him tighten his lips as though checking to be sure. 

You sigh, holding them out to him. “It’s okay. Have some.” 

“No.” Spencer frowns with his eyebrows. “They’re yours.” 

“It’s seriously okay,” you say, more genuinely this time. “I’d hate for you to miss out. They’re really good.” 

He can only resist temptation for so long. He takes one, and his reaction is nearly the same as yours had been, expression going soft at the perfect, delicious warmth of them. 

“In exchange,” you suggest as he reaches for more, “can I take a turn napping on your shoulder for a while?” 

“Yeah, of course,” says Spencer, managing to sound smitten even though a mouthful of cinnamon pretzel bites. He settles back in his chair, trying to give you as comfortable a pillow as possible. 

“Thanks.” You sigh through your nose as you lay your head down, pulling your legs up onto the chair with you and closing your eyes. “I can’t believe we have to go to work tomorrow morning.” 

“This morning,” Spencer corrects you. 

You groan. 

[noisynaia]

𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑰𝑺 𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮

summary: The good old 'oh no, there's only one bed' trope.

pairing: Joel Miller x afab!reader 

word count: 3.8k 

note: Explicit (18+). Vaginal fingering, unprotected P in V, creampie. No use of (y/n). Nightmares. This has not been beta nor proof read and English is not my native language.

“Can you cut it out?” You sigh at the man who is currently and stubbornly laying on the hard floor next to the bed.    

It had been raining heavily for the entire day, the downpour so heavy that you couldn’t see more than a foot or two in front of you. All three of you were soaked to the bone and freezing. Spirit had been very low in your little travel group. Ellie had not come with her usual jokes and Joel had been even grumpier than usual so stumbling upon the little cabin had been a real stroke of luck. There had even been a dresser with enough dry clothes for all three of you to change into. 

You had given Ellie the couch in the living room since that was with the fireplace, leaving the single bedroom for you and Joel. 

“Just get up here. There’s plenty of space for the both of us.” You continue, cursing him and his damn stubbornness. The bed is not huge, but it will fit two people finely. 

“I’m fine down here. Trust me, I’ve had worse.” He just grumbles.  

You sigh, peeking your head over the edge of the mattress to look down at him. “I know you have a bad back and I need you to be well rested and alert, okay.” He tilts his head to look at you. “We both do…” You add, using Ellie to guilt trip him is maybe a little low, but you know it’s going to work and it is not like what you’re saying isn’t true. 

“Fine.” He finally sighs, as he gets up from the dusty floor, his knees creaking slightly before laying down next to you, but he doesn't get under the cover, instead laying straight on his back on top of the comforter with his arms crossed over his chest and eyes staring straight up at the ceiling.        

You want to tell him to just relax and get under the covers, but you don’t want to push your luck, so you just settle for the small victory of getting him into the bed, and who knows as sad as it makes you, maybe he really finds sleeping next to you more uncomfortable than the floor. 

You try not to dwell on that possibility too much, ashamed of how much that would affect you, so you just get comfortable under the covers instead. Turning to lay on your side, facing away from him as you close your eyes, but sleep doesn’t come to you.    

“Can I ask you something?” You whisper into the silent room, somehow knowing that he hasn’t fallen asleep yet. 

“Sure.” 

“It will never get easier will it? Living in this world… I tell myself that it will, that it is going to hurt less with time but… I’m just kidding myself, aren’t I?”

He doesn’t answer for a long time and you start to think that he may have fallen asleep before he finally breaks the silence. “No, I don’t think it will ever get easier.” A short beat of silence before he continues. “But I guess we can hope.” 

You sigh at his words. You really do hope so. The two of you are quiet again and you think he might have fallen asleep when he finally speaks again.  

 “Thank you.” Joel whispers into the darkness.

“For what?” You turn your head slightly towards him.  

“For tolerating my bullshit I guess.” 

It is the last words exchanged between you before sleep finally creeps up on the both of you. 

—

You wake up only a few hours into the night by the feeling of Joel’s frantic movements. He is tossing and turning uneasily and uttering incomprehensible muttered words. You turn around to face him, barely capable of making him out in the darkness of the room.

“Joel” You whisper, propping yourself up on your elbow, making you hover over him slightly. 

You watch the distressed look on his face, his eyes shut tight and his brows furrowed. Whispers of some terror make it out of his mouth. Your hand is hovering over his arm, unsure if he would be okay with your touch. But his nightmare seemingly continues. You frown and gently place your hand over his arm, softly rubbing the spot with your thumb.

“Joel.” You speak softly. “Wake up.”

You can feel how his whole body is shaking. He finally opens his eyes, letting out a gasp. His eyes wide and unfocused, clearly terrified of whatever he’d dreamed about, before they lock with yours and his gaze relaxes a little. 

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, his rapid breathing is slowly coming under control. 

“Don’t apologize.” You frown at him, your eyes are now better accustomed to the darkness and you can see his face more clearly. “I get them too.” You confess dropping your head back on the pillow.

“Do you need anything?” You ask, feeling him move slightly on the mattress.

“No.” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

Silence falls over you, the two of you just laying and listening to your own quiet heartbeats. 

“Why don’t you get under the covers?” You finally say, almost a little pleading.

And to your happy surprise he actually does. Joining you under the covers, even though he lays stiff as a board and way closer to the edge of the bed than he needs to. You can live with that, you are just happy that he at least can be a little more comfortable and warm. 

“Joel?”

“Yes?”

“You can talk to me, you know? If you ever need it”

A beat of silence. 

“Yeah… I know darling.” 

Darling. You think your heart skips a beat by the endearing name and you let out a sigh as you finally close your eyes again. “Goodnight Joel” 

“Goodnight.” 

—

You wake again in the early hours of the morning. It’s a slow ease into consciousness, a much gentler awakening than you normally get to have. Your eyes are still closed, and the only thing you currently perceive is the warm safe feeling of complete comfort, still half asleep, you haven’t registered what contributes to this feeling, how Joel is embracing you in his sleep. 

Comfortably wrapped in a blanket in a soft bed and feeling the heat of someone’s body against you is a luxury you haven't felt in a long time. The comforting feeling of soft human touch makes you melt into it, and crave it from the very marrow of your bones. You stir slightly, letting out a content sigh as you slowly get pulled out of your sleepy daze, and that is when you realize the position you are in.    

Your back is pressed up against Joel’s chest and his strong arm is wrapped around your waist. Your legs are entangled under the covers and his steady warm breath fans over the back of your neck. The two of you must have instinctively reached for each other in your sleep, the presence of a warm comforting body too irresistible, nuzzling you against himself in his sleep.

Your heart skips a beat at the gentle touch, feeling like you are going to cry from the overload of human touch. There is no way you’re gonna be able to part from his embrace without waking him, but maybe you should? Even though you really don’t want to. You feel slightly guilty as you lie and listen to his steady heartbeat

You want to be selfish for a little longer, savoring the warm comfort of Joel’s presence beside you, enjoying how it makes you feel. It feels too damn good after all the years of loneliness and fear. You can’t deny that you are feeling things for Joel. He is an attractive man, there is no doubt there, but there is more to it. The glimpses you have gotten of who he is behind the gruff facade, the man he must once have been, has made you yearn to get to know more of that side of him. The way he always makes sure you and Ellie are feeling safe. The way he over time has softened up a bit. How he sometimes will go along with Ellie’s shenanigans. How he will tell you that he will take the first night shift, but then never wake you so you get to sleep the whole night. You have scolded him for this numerous times, but he still does it whenever he senses that you are just a little more tired than usual. 

You try to ease out of his embrace without waking him, but it only results in him hugging you tighter, pressing you closer towards him as he lets out a dissatisfied grunt like his subconscious wants you close. And it is now, as you are being pressed tighter up against him that you feel it, the press of his hard cock against the curve of  your ass. You let out a little gasp, as a hot shiver travels from your abdomen down to your now throbbing cunt.

You know that it’s just a physical reaction to have a body this close, he didn’t even want to share the bed with you in the first place, but you had insisted on it. As much as you dread having to face him in this position, you really should wake him.   

“Joel.” You whisper, moving your hand over the arm he has around you, gently brushing your fingers over the warm skin, waiting for him to wake. He stirs a little against your touch, but he does not loosen his grip on you. You hold your breath, feeling your pulse throb in your ears as you wait for a reaction. You just hope this won’t make him go back to being as closed off with you as he was in the beginning. You take a deep breath to brace yourself before you turn around in his grip so the two of you are laying face to face. Your movement seems to finally have pulled him out of his sleep. His eyes start to blink slowly as he is pulled out of his slumber, he murmurs your name, voice rough and raspy from sleep and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

His eyes are finally opening to look into yours, the warm umber of his irises is so beautiful, you have never seen them this near. His face is so close. You can see every detail, every crease and he is so damn gorgeous. Your mouth is so close to his, it would be so easy to just lean in and connect your lips in a kiss. You feel Joel’s body stiffening as he realizes the position the two of you are in, and you are scared that he will bolt out of the bed and leave you cold and alone, but he doesn’t. The two of  you are simply laying in silence for a long moment, looking at each other in the dim room, both of you engulfed by the other, but you finally collect enough composure to break the silence between you.

“Good morning.” You whisper into the quiet bedroom. 

“Morning.” His voice is so deep and still rough from sleep. It makes your stomach do a flip. Maybe it is just wishful thinking but you swear that his eyes swift down to your lips for a second. Maybe it’s just time to be brave? You reach your hand up toward his cheek, letting your palm hover about half an inch from his skin. You want him to decide for himself if he is comfortable with your touch. Fortunately, after only a short moment of hesitation, he leans into your hand, exhaling as your palm cups his cheek. You kind of expect him to pull away any minute, but he doesn’t. 

“I haven’t slept this well in a long time.” You confess.  

“Me neither.” You have never heard his voice this soft before and that is when it dawns on you. This is Joel Miller. Not the man that has had to survive in a world with no hope, or the man that has lost everything that made him whole. Right now you are looking into the eyes of the man he once must have been. And maybe right now you’re the woman you were meant to be, the woman you would have been if your future hadn’t been torn away from you by the collapse of the world. There is something magnetic about it. Like the two of you are being pulled together by an invisible force, drawn together in the early morning bliss, both of you learning into earth other. Your lips brush, a ghost of a touch. He shivers but he is  still not pulling away. 

“Can I?” He whispers, his soft breath fanning over your lips. 

“Please.” You manage to croak out, your entire body buzzing with anticipation.  

It is all he needs to hear before he crashes into you, his chapped lips colliding with yours. It has been too long since you have felt the firm pressure of a man’s mouth on yours. You kiss until your lungs start to burn, and you have to pull away to catch your breath. His hand moves down to the hem of your shirt, his fingers ghosting over the warm skin beneath it.    

“Is this okay?” He asks, sounding a little unsure. 

“Yes, Joel.” You assure him. “Kiss me.” You add and he does, sliding his hand under the cotton of your shirt palming the soft skin of your side. You moan into his mouth as his tongue meets yours. You kiss until you no longer know where he starts and you end and you are almost convinced that the two of you have melded into one being.  

“You’re driving me crazy.” He pants out as he finally breaks the kiss. All you can manage is to whimper in response as he moves his lips to your throat, licking and kissing a trail to the side of your neck. His hand slowly slides down from your side to the hem of your pants. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He murmurs into the skin just below your ear, before sitting up just slightly to look into your eyes. 

“No.” You shake your head slightly. “Please don’t stop, Joel.” 

You roll your hips a little, grinding against his strong thigh, needing him to understand how badly you want this. Something flickers in his eyes and he lets out a filthy guttural groan, flipping you over so you're laying under him.    

Your entire body is aflame by his touch, a feral urge for more. More skin, more contact. So you move onto his shirt. The material slightly withered and moth-eaten from the years of being tucked away in a drawer. You pull it off him, revealing his broad upper body. You pause, captivated by the look of him hovering over you. The scars across his skin, the sparse hairs trailing down from his navel to his pants.    

You wonder if he shaking because he’s cold or if he’s really just that eager for your touch. But it doesn’t really matter, either way, you’ll warm him up.

He slides his calloused fingers over the sensitive skin of your thighs, hooking them in the waistband of your panties, looking into your eyes. You nod at him, mouthing a ‘please’, spreading your legs a bit further. It is all he needs, an expression of filthy desire flickers over his face as he pulls your underwear down. Letting out a gasp as your soaked pussy gets exposed in front of him. His fingers slide along the insides of your wet lips. 

“Shit, you’re so wet. All this just for me?” He almost coo.

“Yeah. All for you, Joel.” 

“Wanna feel you come on my fingers.”   

“Fuck, want that too.” You whimper.                

He gives you a smile, dipping his head down to your shoulder, nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck before kissing the soft skin under your ear. He makes sure to coat his fingers in your wetness before he begins to tease your clit. You let out a little gasp as he starts to draw slow light circles, but it doesn’t take long for him to pick up his pace and add a bit of pressure.

He teases your entrance, making sure to coat his fingers in your slickless before he slips one of his thick fingers into you. Another is soon added and you sigh at the sensation. He slowly pumps into you at first, giving you time to adjust to his digits, but he is soon picking up the pace.  

“That’s right darling.” He mutters against your neck. “Taking my fingers so well.”

He is going fast now, using his middle and index finger to fuck you while the ruff pad of his thumb is pressing on your clit and you can’t help but let out a few pathetic whines. He is hitting a perfect spot, so deep inside of you, and you feel your orgasm approaching, finally falling over the edge when he curls his fingers. 

“That’s right, just like that.” Joel groans as you clench around his fingers, slowing his pace slightly but still  pumping you through your orgasm in a steady rhythm. “Just like that, darling, doing so well.”

He lets you ride out your climax on his fingers until he finally pulls out of you, popping them into his mouth, sucking off your juices with a pleasant moan.    

“Fuck, Joel.” You pant out as you finally come down from your amazing high. 

“Good?” He asks, a sly smile on his lips. 

“Really good.” You ensure him, cupping his cheek with a gentle hand. “Want to make you feel good too.” You whisper, looking deeply into his eyes.

“Fuck, darling. I want to feel you so bad.” He confesses.  

“Want that too. Fuck, want that so bad” You pant, letting your thumb slide over his cheek as you admire his handsome face. And you do want him, but more than that, you need him.

He lifts himself from you to strip off his pants and underwear. Your eyes widen at the view of him. His hard cock springs free, throbbing and thick, laying heavy in his palm as he takes himself in his hand. It still looks huge, even in his big hand, so you can’t even imagine how enormous it will look in your smaller one. He pumps himself a few times before leaning down over you again. He guides his cock to your entrance, looking at you for permission, which you give with an eager nod, before slowly pushing inside you, stretching your pussy to its limits the deeper he goes. You feel so full, like he is splitting you open with his thick girth. You whimper as you take more and more of his cock until he is all the way in. 

“Fuck darling, you’re so warm, so fucking tight around me.” He groans before leaving a firm kiss on your lips. The two of you are laying like this for a little while, letting you adjust to his size until you can’t take it anymore. 

“Move.” Your voice is low and rasped. “Please.”   

With that, he lifts your legs, making you cross them around his lower torso as he pulls out of you, achingly slow until only the head of his cock is still inside of you before inserting all of it again in one fluid motion. You let out a gasp of pleasure. 

He starts out with a slow rhythmical pace. He is giving you sweet praise at first, then progressively dirtier, more lustful comments as he loses himself more and more, his thrusts getting faster and more desperate. He lets out a throaty groan as your hands grab his hair. The way he is now pounding his cock into you, deep and purposefully, makes you cry out in pleasure, your ears filling with his growls and moans. 

“Feeling so so good…” He says his eyes clenched tightly shut as he keeps thrusting into you with a savage speed. “I knew you would feel good, but damn.” He groans through gritted teeth. Joel is now moving with an urgency that has you seeing stars and you let out a cry of pleasure. 

“Shhh.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips to quiet you.  Ellie is, unlike you and Joel, a deep sleeper, but you would both be mortified if she heard the two of you, not wanting to traumatize the poor girl. 

“You are taking me so well.” He encourages. “So fucking good.” 

Your arms are desperately clinging to his back. His balls are hitting your skin and his cock is pounding into your soaked pussy, making a filthy squelching noise hit your ears. 

The pressure is beginning to build up in your lower stomach, the feeling is making your head go dizzy. He is bringing you closer and closer with every strong thrust of his cock.

“I-fuck… I'm close.” You babble. 

The knot in your stomach tightens and tightens until it all explodes inside you. Your walls clench down around him, sucking him in. You desperately cling to him as your climax washes over you, hands on his neck as you guide his mouth down to yours, you need him to kiss you through this. Your breasts are being squeezed against his chest, the feeling of his skin against your sensitive nipples makes you moan into his mouth.  

You whine out as you feel the warmth of his release filling you up. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” He detaches from your mouth. The panic from cumming inside you is clear on his face. He pulls out, some of his load landing on your stomach, but most of it still inside of you, the sudden empty feeling makes you let out a little whine. 

“Shit, I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have—” 

You know that he is right, he really shouldn’t have done it, but you can’t get mad at him you had been just as caught up in the feeling of him as he had been in you. You finished your cycle only a couple of days ago so you should hopefully be okay. 

You cup his cheek, planting a soft kiss on his lips. “I think we should be okay, just don’t make a habit of it.” You grin at him. 

He visibly relaxes at your words “I’ll make sure to pull out next time.” He assures you and your stomach flutters. Next time. You smile at his words.   

“How do you feel?” He asks. 

“Good.” You laugh lightly, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I liked seeing this side of you.”

He sighs as he pulls you close. His chest vibrates against you as he speaks. “You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?” 

[loveanton]

off my face | lee anton

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: your best friend has been in love with you for years but you’ve been too blind to notice.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: best friend!anton x f!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst, fluff, suggestive

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 4.5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: underage drinking, partying, drunk kisses, makeouts, pls let me know if i missed anything

⏤ 𝑎/n: finally finished my finals so this is a lil self indulgent piece hehe

“I’m officially done with my exams!”

Anton smiles at you through his phone as he watches you vigorously shake your device out of excitement. You’re practically glowing, a mixture of relief and joy lighting up your features. Anton’s heart swells with pride. He’s always known how dedicated and hardworking you are, but seeing you like this makes him realize just how far you’ve come. You’d conquered another milestone, and he can't help but feel immensely proud of you.

He remembers all the late-night study sessions, the moments of doubt you’d shared, and the unwavering determination in your eyes. You’re amazing. He admires your strength, your perseverance, and the way you made everything seem possible. Anton has always been your biggest cheerleader, silently supporting you from the sidelines, even though he wishes he could do more. But right now, he’s just happy to see you so happy.

"Congratulations," Anton finally says, his voice warm and full of genuine pride.

"Thank you!" you beam, your eyes sparkling with gratitude. “Not gonna lie, I wrote complete bs for half the exam, after answering what I knew and adding up the points I gave up when I realized I had enough to pass the class.”

Anton snorts at your confession, “let’s pray your math wasn’t off then.”

You hum, “lets pray I actually got those questions right otherwise I’m screwed.”

The two of you laugh at your words before a beat of silence falls over the two of you. Anton hesitates for a moment, then decides to go for it. "So, what would you like me to buy you as a gift for finishing off your junior year?" he asks, his tone playful but sincere. He wants to celebrate this achievement with you, to make this moment even more special.

Your eyes widen in surprise, a smile spreading across your face. "Really? You don't have to—"

"I want to," Anton interrupts, a mischievous grin forming. "Come on, name your reward."

You laugh, thinking for a moment before answering. "Well, if you're sure... How about that new book series I've been eyeing?"

"Consider it done," Anton says, already mentally noting to order it as soon as possible. He wants to see that smile on your face in person, wants to be the reason for your happiness, even if just a little bit.

Just then, the door to Anton’s room opens, and Eunseok pokes his head in. He notices Anton on the phone and grins, stepping fully into the room. "Hey, who's that?" he asks, leaning closer to the screen.

You giggle and wave. "Hi, Eunseok! Guess what? I’m officially done with my exams!"

"Hey! That’s awesome! Congrats!" Eunseok says, his enthusiasm infectious. "So, Anton’s getting you something nice, right?"

"Yeah, he’s getting me a book series I wanted," you say, your excitement evident.

Eunseok smiles, "Want me to buy you something too?"

Your eyes sparkle with mischief. "Wait, really?”

He nods his head once and hums, “Yeah. Anything else you have your heart set on?”

“Want to take me out for some kbbq?"

Eunseok laughs, nodding. "Sure, Korean BBQ it is. I’ll text you to pick a date."

Anton forces a smile, trying to hide his disappointment. "Great, that sounds like a lot of fun."

You beam, clearly thrilled. "Awesome! Thanks, Eunseok. And thanks again, Anton, for the book series."

"Of course," Anton says, his voice softer now. "I’m really proud of you."

After a few more exchanges, Eunseok and Anton say their goodbyes, and you hang up. The moment the call ends, Anton feels a heavy weight settle in his chest. He can't shake off the sadness that you so eagerly accepted Eunseok's offer and that you would be going out to eat with him. It felt a bit too intimate, and jealousy gnaws at him.

Anton sulks around the dorm, trying to distract himself but failing miserably. Later on, once everyone has eaten and gotten ready for bed, Anton sits in the common area still pouting and eating an apple after skipping out on dinner because Eunseok was in charge of cooking tonight. Wonbin notices his friend's gloomy demeanor and approaches him with concern.

"Hey, what's got you all pouty?" Wonbin asks, nudging Anton gently.

Anton sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's nothing. Just... feeling a bit off, I guess."

Wonbin raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Come on, what is it? I know something's bothering you."

Anton hesitates, then finally gives in. "It's just... ____’s done with her exams and I offered to buy her a gift, she was really happy about it. But then Eunseok came in and offered to buy her something too and she accepted without a second thought. It just... I don’t know, it feels different."

Wonbin nods, understanding dawning on his face. "Ah, I see. You're feeling jealous."

"Yeah," Anton admits quietly. "I know it's stupid, but I can't help it. I’ve been in love with her for years, and she doesn’t even see me that way. And now she’s going out with Eunseok... it just hurts."

Wonbin claps a reassuring hand on Anton's shoulder. "Hey, it’s not stupid. Feelings are complicated. But maybe it's time to tell her how you really feel. Who knows, she might feel the same way."

Anton looks at Wonbin, a mixture of hope and fear in his eyes. "Maybe. I just don’t want to ruin what we have."

"Sometimes you have to take a risk to get what you really want," Wonbin says softly. "And you deserve to be happy too, Anton."

Anton nods, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Wonbin. I’ll think about it."

As he walks back to his shared room, Anton's mind races with thoughts of you, the possibilities, and the courage he would need to finally confess his feelings. But for now, he just hopes you’re happy, even if it isn’t with him.

The next day, you head over to Anton’s dorm, excited to pick up the gift and hang out with your best friend. The sun is shining brightly, and there’s a lightness in your step as you approach the familiar building. When you knock on his door, it opens almost immediately, and Anton greets you with a warm smile.

"Hey! Come in," he says, stepping aside to let you enter.

"Thanks," you reply, stepping into the cozy space. The dorm has always felt like a second home to you, a place filled with fond memories and shared moments.

Anton walks the two of you to his room before going over to his desk and picks up a carefully wrapped package. "Here it is," he says, handing it to you with a shy grin.

You take the package, your eyes widening in surprise. "Wow, you wrapped it and everything! How did you get it so fast?"

Anton chuckles. "The perks of Amazon Prime," he replies, looking pleased with your reaction.

You laugh and start to unwrap the gift, revealing the book series you’ve been wanting. Your heart swells with gratitude, and you look up at Anton with a beaming smile. "Thank you so much, Anton! This is perfect."

"I’m glad you like it," he says softly, watching as you flip through the pages of the first book.

Just then, your phone buzzes with a text from your roommate. You glance at the screen and read the message. “Ouu, Mina just texted me about a party."

You look up at Anton, excitement and a hint of mischief in your eyes. "Do you wanna come with me? It’ll be a great way to celebrate."

Anton hesitates, his brow furrowing slightly. "A party? I don’t know... that’s not really my scene."

"Please, Anton," you say, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. "It would mean a lot to me if you came. We can have fun together, and it’s a good chance to let loose before I leave for the summer."

He sighs, but the look in your eyes makes it impossible for him to say no. "Alright, I’ll go," he agrees, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Yay! Thank you!" you exclaim, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. "You’re the best, Anton."

He hugs you back, savoring the moment before you pull away. "I’ll see you later then. I need to get ready," you say, heading for the door.

"See you later," Anton replies, watching you leave with a fond look in his eyes.

After you’ve gone, Anton turns to find his roommates. He finds all six of them in the common area, discussing their plans for the evening. "Hey, guys. We’re going to a party tonight," Anton announces.

"A party? Are you sure you want to go?" Sungchan asks.

Sohee nods, “yeah, I never pegged you as the party going type.

Anton sends a sharp glare their way. “____ invited me, I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

"I’m sure it will," Wonbin adds, glancing at Anton. He remembers the conversation they had last night and grins. "So, is this the night you finally tell her how you feel?"

Anton’s cheeks flush slightly. "Ahhh, hyung!"

Eunseok raises an eyebrow. "Wait, tell who what?"

Wonbin nudges the younger male. "Anton’s in love with ____. Has been for years."

All the boy's eyes widen in surprise, as they stare at their youngest in shock. Shotaro is the first to react, he breaks into a wide grin. "Really? That’s awesome! We need to make sure you confess tonight."

Anton groans. "No. Guys, please. I don’t want to make it a big deal."

His words go right over everyone's heads as they start coming up with a masterplan to help out their brother.

"Don’t worry, Anton," Wonbin says with a mischievous glint in his eye. "We’ve got your back. Tonight’s the night."

Anton sighs, knowing there’s no stopping them. As the evening approaches, the dorm buzzes with excitement. The guys are all determined to help Anton confess his feelings to you by the end of the party, and Anton can only hope that everything goes well.

___

Back in your dorm, you and Mina are getting ready for the party. The room is filled with the upbeat music Mina insists on playing whenever you two are preparing for a night out. You’re both rifling through your closets, trying on different outfits, and swapping opinions on what looks best.

“This party is going to be amazing,” Mina says, holding up a sparkly top against herself and checking the mirror. “Are you sure Anton’s coming?”

“Of course,” you reply, slipping into the black dress you finally settled on. “I convinced him. He’s not really into parties, but he agreed to come.”

Mina grins and raises an eyebrow. “You know, that’s probably because he has a thing for you. So, when are you going to confess your feelings?”

You roll your eyes, waving off her comment. “We’re just friends, Mina. He doesn’t see me like that.”

Mina gives you a skeptical look. “Are you sure about that? You two are pretty close, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Seriously, it’s not like that,” you insist, feeling a twinge of discomfort. You don’t want to get your hopes up or think about the possibility of Anton seeing you as more than a friend. “Let’s drop it, okay?”

Mina shrugs, sensing the finality in your tone. “Alright, alright. But if you change your mind, tonight could be the perfect time.”

You finish getting ready in silence, both focused on your makeup and hair. Once you’re satisfied with your looks, you grab your bags and head out the door, excitement bubbling within you for the night ahead.

The party is already in full swing by the time you and Mina arrive. The house is packed with people, music blaring, and laughter echoing through the rooms. You’re greeted by a wave of familiar faces, everyone eager to chat and offer you drinks.

Anton stands off to the side, trying to blend into the background while watching you interact with ease. He sees guys coming up to you, talking and laughing, some even offering you drinks. A pang of jealousy hits him, but he tries to push it aside.

Sungchan, noticing Anton’s brooding expression, decides to take action. He grabs two drinks and walks over to Anton, shoving them into his hands. “Here, take these. Go talk to her. Stop sulking.”

Anton hesitates but knows Sungchan is right. He takes a deep breath and walks over to you, hoping to get a moment alone.

You notice Anton approaching and smile brightly. “Hey! I’m so glad you made it.”

“Hey,” he replies, handing you one of the drinks. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

The two of you find a quieter corner and start chatting about your summer plans. You excitedly tell him about your upcoming girls’ trip to Tulum, and he shares his plans to go on tour with the boys before heading back to New Jersey to spend time with his family.

“I’m so excited for you,” you say, genuinely happy for him. “Touring sounds incredible.”

“Thanks,” Anton says, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “And Tulum sounds amazing. You’re going to have so much fun.”

Just as you’re about to dive into another topic, Sohee appears out of nowhere, grabbing both of your arms. “Hey, you two! Come on, we’re starting a drinking game in the basement. You have to join us!”

You laugh, allowing Sohee to drag you towards the basement. “Alright, alright, we’re coming!”

Anton follows, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

The basement is filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension as everyone gathers around in a circle for the game. The room is dimly lit, creating an intimate atmosphere perfect for a game of Dare or Drink. Sohee stands in the center, holding an empty bottle, and addresses the group with a mischievous grin.

"Alright, losers," Sohee announces loudly, "we're playing Dare or Drink. It's pretty self-explanatory, but here are the rules: we spin the bottle, and if it lands on you, you either do the dare or take a drink. Got it?"

Everyone nods, a mix of nervous laughter and anticipation rippling through the group. Seunghan is the first to spin the bottle, and it lands on Chaemin. The room holds its breath as he smirks.

"Alright, Chaemin," Seunghan says, leaning forward, "I dare you to kiss the person next to you."

Chaemin's eyes widen, her cheeks turning pink as she looks to her side and sees Shotaro. She bites her lip, hesitating. Shotaro's face is already turning red, a nervous smile on his lips. Chaemin quickly decides and grabs her drink, taking a big gulp instead of completing the dare.

You giggle, noticing Shotaro's embarrassment, and pat his shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry, Shotaro. Maybe next time," you say with a playful wink.

Chaemin, still blushing, spins the bottle next. It twirls around before pointing at Wonbin. She grins mischievously. "Wonbin, I dare you to strip and go skinny dipping with me."

The room erupts in cheers and laughter, the boys howling at the suggestion. Wonbin, however, chuckles and shakes his head, opting to take a drink instead.

Sohee rolls her eyes dramatically. "Come on, guys! This game is boring if no one does the dares. Step it up!"

With a determined look, Wonbin spins the bottle, and it lands on Anton. Anton's eyes widen as everyone hoots and hollers, anticipating the dare.

"Alright, Anton," Wonbin says, his voice dripping with mischief, "I dare you to make out with the hottest girl in the room."

The group falls silent, all eyes on Anton as he blushes furiously. You can feel your own cheeks heating up, heart pounding as you wait to see what he'll do. Anton looks around nervously, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than the others.

Anton hesitates, his mind racing. He can feel the weight of everyone's eyes on him, especially yours. The truth is, he already knows who the hottest girl in the room is to him, but saying it out loud and acting on it in front of everyone feels daunting.

With a deep breath, he glances at you again, the unspoken feelings swirling in his eyes. "I—"

But before he can finish, the group erupts in cheers and laughter again, breaking the tension. Anton, still flustered, grabs his drink and takes a large gulp, avoiding the dare.

You can't help but feel a mix of relief and disappointment. You give him a supportive smile, hoping to ease his nerves. Anton looks at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and something else you can't quite place. The game continues, but you and Anton share a few more glances, the unspoken tension between you growing stronger with each passing moment.

As the game progresses and the drinks flow, the atmosphere in the basement becomes increasingly lively. Laughter fills the air, and the group becomes more daring with each spin of the bottle. You’ve mostly opted for drinks over dares, feeling the effects of the alcohol start to kick in. Your inhibitions are lowered, and a warm buzz settles over you as you join in the fun.

It's your turn again, and you watch as Sohee gives the bottle a playful spin. It twirls around before slowing down and pointing directly at you. The room erupts into cheers and laughter, and you can't help but giggle nervously as all eyes turn to you.

Sohee grins mischievously. "Alright, ____, I dare you to kiss the most attractive male in the room."

You scoff, feeling emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your veins. "Pfft, easy," you say with a playful smirk.

Without hesitation, you turn to Anton, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes widen in surprise, his cheeks flushing as he meets your gaze. The room falls silent, anticipation hanging thick in the air.

With a boldness you didn’t know you possessed, you lean in and press your lips against his, the kiss soft but filled with an undeniable electricity. Cheers erupt from the group as they watch in amazement, some even whistling and hollering in approval.

For a moment, everything fades away except for the sensation of Anton’s lips against yours, the warmth of his embrace, and the pounding of your heart. It feels like time slows down, and you lose yourself in the moment, forgetting about everything else but the connection between you and Anton.

When you finally pull away, breathless and flushed, the room erupts into cheers and applause. Anton stares at you, his eyes wide with surprise and something else you can't quite place.

Sohee claps you on the back, grinning from ear to ear. "Now that's what I call a dare!" he exclaims, earning laughter and agreement from the others.

As the cheers and applause die down, you begin to realize the weight of what just happened. Your heart races with a mix of nerves and excitement, unsure of what this means for your relationship with Anton.

Anton's eyes meet yours, his expression unreadable as he stands and reaches out to take your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Come on," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let's get out of here."

You feel a pang of disappointment as Anton leads you away from the group, away from the pulsating energy of the party. A part of you wants to stay, to revel in the adrenaline rush of the moment, but another part knows that you need to talk, to figure out what this kiss means for your friendship.

But as Anton guides you up the stairs, you can't help but whine, dragging your feet like a child being dragged away from their favorite toy. "But I don't want to leave," you protest, your voice slurred from the alcohol. "I'm having fun."

Anton shoots you a warning look, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "____, we need to talk," he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Reluctantly, you follow him into an empty bedroom, the noise of the party fading into the background. Anton closes the door behind you, and for a moment, there's nothing but silence between you.

"I..." Anton starts, his voice trailing off as he struggles to find the right words. "I don't know what this means for us, but... that kiss, it felt..."

Before he can finish, you cut him off with a giggle, swaying unsteadily on your feet. "Anton, you're overthinking it," you say with a drunken smile. "Let's just go back to the party."

But Anton shakes his head, a determined look in his eyes. "No, we need to talk about this."

You pout, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the seriousness of the situation. "Fine," you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

Anton sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He realizes that you're too drunk to have a proper conversation, too caught up in the moment to fully understand the implications of what just happened. With a heavy heart, he decides to abandon the conversation for now, knowing that it's pointless to try to reason with you in your current state.

Instead, he takes a deep breath and gently guides you out of the room, back towards his dorm. You stumble slightly, leaning on him for support as you navigate the streets together.

When you finally reach his room, Anton helps you onto his bed, tucking you in with gentle hands. You mumble a sleepy thank you, already drifting off into a drunken slumber.

Anton watches you for a moment, his heart heavy with uncertainty. He knows that things will never be the same between you, that this kiss has changed everything. But as he looks down at your sleeping form, a small smile tugs at his lips. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something new.

With a sigh, he turns away, grabbing a makeup wipe to gently wipe off your makeup. He changes you into one of his oversized shirts and a pair of his boxers, making sure to avert his eyes as he does so.

Once you're settled, he takes a pillow and a blanket, making himself comfortable on the floor beside the bed. He knows that he needs to be there for you, to take care of you, even if it means sacrificing his own comfort.

As he drifts off to sleep, thoughts of you swirl through his mind. He feels nervous about what the future holds for your friendship, but also excited at the possibility of something more. And as he falls asleep beside you, he knows that whatever happens, he'll always be there for you, ready to support you through whatever comes your way.

The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow into Anton's room. You slowly blink your eyes open, groaning at the pounding headache that greets you. As you try to piece together the events of last night, memories flood back to you in bits and pieces. The party, the drinking, the kiss...

Your heart sinks as you realize where you are. You sit up slowly, the room spinning slightly as you take in your surroundings. You're in Anton's room, and the memories of the drunken kiss flood back to you with embarrassing clarity. You feel stupid for letting things get out of hand, for letting your feelings show in such a reckless way.

As you start to get dressed, pulling on your pants with shaky hands, the door creaks open and Anton enters, carrying a glass of water and some pills. You freeze, your heart racing as you meet his gaze. There's a moment of awkward silence as you both stand there, unsure of what to say.

Anton breaks the silence first, holding out the water and pills to you. "Here," he says softly, his voice gentle. "You'll feel better after you take these."

You take the medicine gratefully, mumbling a small thank you as you swallow the pills with a sip of water. Anton watches you carefully, his expression unreadable as he waits for you to speak.

Finally, he clears his throat, his voice hesitant. "About last night...," he starts, trailing off as he searches for the right words. "I wanted to talk to you about the kiss."

Your heart sinks even further, and you feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Oh, uh... yeah," you mumble, trying to play it off casually. "It was just a stupid drunken kiss. We were both drunk, and I... I didn't mean anything by it."

Anton's gaze softens, and you can see the doubt flickering in his eyes. He takes a step towards you, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you mean that?" he asks, his tone gentle but insistent. "Or... do you have feelings for me?"

You feel a lump forming in your throat, and you struggle to find the right words. "I... I don't know," you admit, feeling flustered and exposed under his gaze. "It was just a... a stupid mistake."

But Anton knows you're lying, knows you're trying to brush off something that meant more to both of you than you're willing to admit. With a newfound confidence, he takes another step towards you, closing the distance between you.

"____," he says softly, reaching up to caress your cheek with trembling fingers. "I've loved you for years. That kiss... it meant everything to me."

You stare up at him in shock, your heart pounding in your chest. You're not sure how to respond, not sure if you're ready to face the truth of your feelings for him. But before you can say anything, Anton leans in, his lips capturing yours in a gentle, hesitant kiss.

For a moment, everything fades away except for the warmth of Anton's embrace, the softness of his lips against yours. As the kiss deepens, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer, Anton hums, his right hand slides under your hair to rest on your neck.

You quietly moan when he spreads your mouth with his and slips his tongue into your wet mouth. Anton’s fingers are tangled in your hair, his thumb resting on the side of your face. He tilts his head and deepens the kiss. He moans when he wraps his tongue around yours. He rests his other hand on the small of your back as he reclines you slowly, carefully, until you are laying down and he is hovering over you. He retracts his left hand from your back and starts to slowly rub circles on the inside of your thighs.

You slightly push him away feeling overwhelmed with all the new sensations but you know you need to tell him this before anything else happens, “I love you too.”

Anton smiles down at you and pecks your lips once more, “I love you more.”

In that moment you feel a sense of completeness wash over you, a feeling of rightness that you've never experienced before. As you lose yourself in his eyes, in the warmth and safety of Anton's embrace, you know that this is just the beginning of your journey together, the start of something beautiful and true.

[foxy-eva]

Snow Angel

Summary: Reader really knows how to get Spencer in a festive mood

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff, Smut

Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) a hint at Spencer’s sad childhood, food mentions, heavy kissing, oral (fem receiving), handjob, unprotected penetrative sex

Author’s Note: This is my gift for @drgenius-reid ! I wrote it as a part of this year’s Criminal Minds gift exchange @cmgiftexchange

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

Spencer’s hand kept mine warm as we walked along a snow-covered path in the park. Seeing everything covered in a soft, white layer really got me in a festive mood, excited to have someone to spend the holidays with this year. 

“So, Christmas is in a few days. Do you have any plans?” I wondered while gently squeezing his hand. 

He turned his head to find my eyes as he cooed, “I was hoping to spend it with you.”

“I would really like that.” 

He smiled at me for a brief moment before he averted his eyes to look at the snow beneath his feet. After taking a deep breath, he asked, “Can I tell you something?” 

“Anything.”

Spencer stopped his movements to be able to fully look at me while he said, “Growing up in the desert with a sick mom, Christmas always felt like any other day to me. I never understood what people meant when they talked about how magical this time of year is. That was until I met you. I can’t wait to celebrate Christmas with you.”

I placed my arms around his neck to find his lips in a chaste kiss before whispering, “I love you.” 

His breath felt hot against my face when he breathed, “I love you, too.” 

It was then that I decided to make it my mission to show him how magical Christmas could be. There was so much about this time of year that he probably never got to experience and I was adamant to change that. 

“Let’s make snow angels!” I chirped and was met with a surprised look. 

“What?” 

Without further explanation I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the ground with me. He watched my motions for a moment before he lay down in the snow himself, mirroring what I was doing. We both couldn’t hold back the fit of laughter falling from our lips. 

When we got up from the ground, we took a moment to admire two perfect snow angels before rushing back to my apartment. Spencer’s cheeks were rosy when we got back into the comfort of my home, signaling that he was just as cold as I was. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the cold,” he muttered as he took off his damp coat. 

“I know a way to warm you up,” I told him. “Why don’t you take a blanket and wait for me on the couch.” 

When I returned to him with a mug of hot cocoa, he raised his eyebrows and chuckled, “I thought you had had something else in mind.”

“Naughty boy!” I laughed as I sat down beside him. “Don’t you know that Santa only brings presents to good boys?” 

He just shrugged as he took the mug and said, “I’m okay with that, I already have everything I could wish for.”

I placed a soft kiss on his cheek before I turned on the TV to put on the corniest Christmas romcom I could find. 

“Snow angels - check! Next on my agenda to experience the Christmas spirit are hot cocoa and terrible Christmas movies,” I announced. 

Spencer playfully rolled his eyes but I knew that he was enjoying my enthusiasm. He took the blanket to place it over the both of us before wrapping one arm around me to keep me close to him. 

When a scene of the main characters decorating a Christmas tree came on, I decided that we should do that, too. “We should get a Christmas tree for your apartment,” I let him know. “We could decorate it with purple ornaments.” 

“That sounds really nice.”

I adjusted my position inside his arms until I could fully look at him to tell him, “And we need to bake cookies! I have a recipe for the best chocolate chip cookies you’ll ever taste.”

“Cookies sound great-,” Spencer agreed before finding my lips to mumble against them, “- but I’d rather have you right now.” 

The movie playing in the background was quickly forgotten as we deepened our kiss. His lips felt soft and demanding at the same time and when his tongue met mine it was as if we melted into one another. It only took a few moments until I noticed a familiar warmth rushing through my body, making me eager to feel more of him. My hand wandered to the hem of his sweater, dipping beneath it to feel the heat of his skin. 

“Are you still cold?” I breathed into the kiss. 

“No.”

I broke the kiss to smirk at him as I purred, “Good. That means you can take your sweater off.” 

Spencer chuckled at my words but did as I said. Slowly we helped each other shed each layer of clothing until there was nothing left to separate our bodies as we lay beside one another on the couch.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he purred as he kissed down my neck. 

His hands began exploring the curves of my breasts and I felt him smiling against my skin when I answered his touches with the sounds of my pleasure. His fingertips were soon replaced by his lips as he kissed every inch of my skin within reach. Gently, he pushed apart my thighs and lay down between them before he began nipping and licking along my inner thighs. 

I knew that I was dripping with desire at this point but Spencer took his time to tease me. I was sure he didn’t do it on purpose. It wasn’t the first time that he lost track of time worshipping me, his eyes always filled with wonder when he kissed along all the curves and dips my body had to offer.

“Please…,” I finally whimpered. “I need you.” 

It was as if my words had snapped him out of a trance. He mumbled, “Sorry,” against my thigh before his mouth finally focussed on my center. My hands flew to his head, my fingers intertwining with his curls as he brought me closer to my breaking point. I dared to look down at him and moaned at the sight of half of his face buried between my thighs. It looked downright sinful. 

It took just a few more moments of his skillful motions until I entered a state of pure bliss. Spencer’s hands grabbed my hips to keep me steady as he guided me through my high. When my body began relaxing underneath him, he placed a few more soft kisses against my folds before finding his home inside my arms. 

I was quick to reach down to find his hardness, making him shudder at the sudden touch. My fingers wrapped around him and began moving just the way I knew he liked. My motions were immediately rewarded by his sighs and groans. When I let my thumb brush over his leaking tip, he whined my name against my neck. 

“Tell me what you want, love,” I cooed as I kept stroking him. 

“I–,” he whimpered as he locked eyes with me. “I… wanna be inside you. Please.” 

“I’m all yours, Spencer.” 

It took him a few seconds to process my words. The thought that I had the ability to make the smartest and most eloquent man I knew forget everything else but me made me smile. He repositioned himself until he was kneeling between my legs, taking a moment to let his eyes wander over my body. 

“I’m so lucky,” he purred as he leaned over me. “So lucky to have you.” 

I reached between our bodies to guide him to my entrance. He took his time entering my body, a sigh falling from his lips with every inch that disappeared inside me. When he was fully inside me, he leaned down to kiss me. My arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him even closer against me until there was no distance to be found between us. 

Slowly we began moving, our hips grinding against one another in perfect synchronicity. We got lost inside each other’s arms. As our bodies merched there was no way of telling where my body ended and his began. Together we chased the sweet relief with heavy breaths and accelerated motions until we fell over the edge together. 

Each of the pulses of my walls around him was answered with him throbbing inside me, sharing his warmth with me until he had nothing left to give. He collapsed into my arms and buried his face into the crook of my neck as he tried to even out his breathing. Our bodies stayed connected for as long as possible but we had to let go of each other eventually. 

After cleaning up I found my home inside Spencer’s arms, my head resting on his chest. His heart was still beating faster than usual but it slowed down after a few more moments. 

“I can’t wait to spend Christmas with you,” he whispered. “And every holiday after that.” 

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @melifluorei-d @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @castiels-majestic-wings @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @purpledsky @super-nerd22 @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie

[kentobb]

The Bet (Part Seven)

Characters: College! Sukuna x Female Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: *Sigh* Pure Angst, Jealousy, Alcohol, Mentions of Drunk people?, Foul Language, Suggestive, Smut (Theres not but theres a suggestive part so…might as well categorized it like that), etc.

Author’s Note: I know I said that I will see you guys in a few days. But I was in my break in the airplane and wrote this piece of art. 🩷 Next chapter in a few days. But let me know what you think is going to happened next :)

Part 01

Days passed, and everything seemed to spiral further into despair for Sukuna. He had tried calling you countless times, but each attempt was met with the same automated message: "Sorry, the person you're calling is not available. Please leave a message after the beep."

"Hey, it's me again…please, call me back. Let’s talk.” Sukuna's voice broke as he left yet another voicemail, the pain evident in his words. But there was no response. His text messages, too, were left on "delivered," never receiving a reply.

He clutched the heart locket you had returned to him in such pain, now worn around his own neck, a constant reminder of the love he had lost. Each day without you felt like an eternity, and the absence of your presence in his life was a gaping void that consumed him.

What hurt the most was that you hadn’t been attending class for the past week. He looked for you everywhere—your usual seat in the lecture hall, the library corner where you loved to study—but you were nowhere to be found. The halls felt emptier without you, and summer break loomed just around the corner, only amplifying his sense of urgency and despair.

His brothers had tried their best to comfort him. They sat with him, talked to him, tried to distract him with jokes and stories. But it was useless. Sukuna's mind was consumed with thoughts of you, replaying every moment you had shared, every word he wished he could take back.

Yuuji walked into Sukuna's room one evening, finding him sitting on his bed, staring at his phone. "Hey, any luck?" Yuuji asked, though he already knew the answer.

Sukuna shook his head, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "No. She’s not answering. I don't know what to do.”

Yuuji sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You just have to give her time, Sukuna. She needs to process everything.”

"But what if she never forgives me? What if I've lost her forever?" Sukuna's voice was barely a whisper, his fear palpable.

Choso joined them, leaning against the doorframe. "You haven't lost her yet. Just keep trying, keep showing her that you care. She'll come around."

Sukuna nodded, though his heart felt heavy. "I hope you're right."

Days turned into nights, each one blending into the next in a blur of unanswered calls and unspoken words. Sukuna spent his time going through the motions, attending practice, going to class, but his mind was always elsewhere. He found himself constantly touching the locket around his neck, seeking solace in its presence.

Summer break was only a weekend away, and the impending separation from the campus only added to his anxiety. He feared that the distance would only widen the gap between them, making it even harder to reach you.

One evening, as he sat alone in his room, Sukuna decided to leave one more message. "Hey, it's me. I just wanted to say I'm sorry again. I miss you so much. Please, call me back when you can. I love you."

He hung up, feeling the familiar ache in his chest. He lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the silence of his room echoing his loneliness.

His brothers found him there, a picture of heartbreak. They exchanged worried glances, unsure of how to help him. Yuuji sat beside him, while Choso leaned against the wall, both trying to offer their silent support.

"We're here for you, Sukuna," Yuuji said softly. "No matter what happens."

Sukuna nodded, his throat tight with emotion. "Thanks," he whispered, though he couldn't shake the overwhelming sadness that clung to him.

As the days crept closer to summer break, the weight of your absence grew heavier. Sukuna knew he had to find a way to make things right, but he felt lost, unsure of how to bridge the chasm that had formed between you.

He held onto the hope that you would eventually hear his messages, read his texts, and remember the love you had shared. Until then, he would keep trying, keep waiting, and keep believing that somehow, you could find the way back to each other.

One evening, just as he was about to send yet another unanswered message, there was a knock on his door. Sukuna hesitated, his heart pounding with a mix of hope and fear. When he opened the door, he found Gojo standing there, looking uncertain and hesitant.

"Sukuna," Gojo began, his voice wavering slightly. "Can I come in?”

For a moment, Sukuna stood still, his emotions swirling. He didn't know if he was mad at Gojo for telling Mei Mei, or if he was mad at the situation itself. But then he saw the genuine worry and regret in Gojo's eyes, and he managed a soft, weary smile. "Yeah, come in."

Gojo stepped inside, his usual confident demeanor replaced with a rare vulnerability. He sat down, fidgeting nervously. "Look, I just... I wanted to say I'm sorry. I messed up. I shouldn't have said anything to Mei Mei. I didn't think—"

Sukuna held up a hand, stopping him. "Don’t. It’s okay.”

Gojo's eyes widened in surprise. "You're not mad at me?"

Sukuna shook his head. "No, I'm not mad at you. I’m just... tired. Tired of everything. It was my fault too…”

Gojo's shoulders sagged with relief, but the guilt still lingered in his eyes. "I really am sorry, Sukuna. I never wanted to hurt you. You're my best friend."

Sukuna nodded, feeling a tightness in his chest. "I know, Gojo. I know. It's just been really hard."

There was a heavy silence between them, filled with unspoken words and shared pain. Finally, Gojo cleared his throat. "Look, I know this might not be the best time, but I think you need a break. Mahito's throwing a summer break party, and I think you should come."

Sukuna frowned, shaking his head. "I don't think that's a good idea. I don't feel like partying."

Gojo leaned forward, his eyes pleading. "Just think about it, okay? You need a distraction, something to take your mind off things, even if it's just for a little while."

Sukuna sighed, running a hand through his hair. The thought of going to a party felt overwhelming, but he couldn't deny that he needed to escape his own thoughts, if only for a few hours. "I don't know, Gojo..."

"Please," Gojo insisted, his voice softening. "Just give it a try. You don't have to stay long. Just come and see if it helps. You can't keep torturing yourself like this."

Sukuna hesitated, but the look in Gojo's eyes, filled with genuine concern and friendship, swayed him. He nodded slowly. "Just for a little while."

A smile broke out on Gojo's face, a mix of relief and hope. "That's all I ask. Thanks, bro."

As they prepared to leave for the party, Sukuna felt a small flicker of something he hadn't felt in days—a glimmer of hope. He knew that it wouldn't solve everything, but maybe, just maybe, it would help him start to heal.

Sukuna arrived at Mahito’s party, the pulsating music and thrumming energy immediately overwhelming his senses. The house was packed with people, bodies dancing against each other, the air thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol. He made his way to one of the sofas where his teammates were lounging, drinking and laughing. Yuuji and Choso were already there, engaged in animated conversation.

Sukuna plopped down on the sofa, grabbing a drink from the table in front of him. As he took a sip, he noticed several of his teammates with their girlfriends, their laughter and affectionate touches reminding him painfully of what he had lost. He felt a pang of hurt, wishing you were there with him, remembering how it felt to have you by his side.

As the night wore on and the drinks flowed, Sukuna found his gaze wandering toward the door. He watched idly as new arrivals trickled in, but then his heart nearly stopped when he saw who walked in.

First, there was a girl with fiery orange hair, wearing a stylish outfit that accentuated her bold personality—Nobara. She exuded confidence, her eyes scanning the room with an assertive gaze. Beside her was a tall, brooding figure with dark, messy hair—Megumi. His demeanor was quiet and reserved, yet there was a certain intensity in his eyes.

But it was the third person who made Sukuna’s breath catch in his throat. It was you.

His eyes widened, and his heart pounded in his chest. What are you doing here? This… this isn’t the place for you. Why would you be here?

You wore a stunning red dress that hugged your curves, the short hemline showing off your legs, and the neckline revealing just enough to make his mouth go dry. Your makeup was flawless, enhancing your natural beauty, and your hair was styled elegantly. You carried a small red purse, completing the look.

Sukuna could hardly believe his eyes. He had never seen you like this. You looked scared, nervous at your surroundings.

As you walked in, people turned to look at you, some even whistling appreciatively. Sukuna felt a surge of jealousy and protectiveness. He didn’t like the way others were looking at you, the way they seemed to undress you with their eyes.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, your attention focused on Nobara and Megumi as they led you toward the mini bar. Sukuna shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours.

Nobara, with her usual flair, seemed to be showing you the ropes, gesturing animatedly as she explained the different drinks. Sukuna’s mind raced. He knew you had never drunk alcohol in your life. This was all new to you, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were out of place, that you didn’t belong in this chaotic environment.

As he watched you, he felt a mix of emotions—jealousy, worry, longing. He wanted to protect you, to pull you away from the prying eyes and the potentially harmful influences. But he also knew he had no right to do so, not after what had happened.

Sukuna's eyes followed your every move, noting the way you hesitated before accepting a drink from Nobara, your expression a mix of curiosity and apprehension. He wanted to rush over, to tell you that you didn’t have to do this, but he stayed rooted to his seat, torn between his desire to see you and his fear of making things worse.

His teammates continued their banter, oblivious to his inner turmoil. Gojo, noticing his distracted state, leaned over and followed his gaze. “Isn’t that…?” Gojo trailed off, his eyes widening in realization.

“Yeah,” Sukuna replied, his voice tight. “It’s her.”

Gojo glanced back at Sukuna, his expression concerned. “What are you going to do?”

Sukuna didn’t answer immediately. He watched as you took a tentative sip of your drink, your face scrunching up at the unfamiliar taste. Nobara laughed, patting your on the back, while Megumi watched with an amused smirk.

Summoning his courage, Sukuna stood up and began to walk towards you. Nobara, sensing his approach, quickly stepped in front of you, blocking his path.

“She doesn’t want to speak to you,” Nobara said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Sukuna's eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his voice steady. “Who are you?”

Nobara glared at him, her stance protective. “She’s not your girlfriend anymore, Sukuna.”

Ignoring Nobara's words, Sukuna took another step closer, his determination unwavering. Just then, Megumi stepped in, his presence imposing. “You heard her. Back off,” Megumi said, trying to intimidate Sukuna.

Sukuna glanced at Megumi, a small, defiant smirk forming on his lips. “Nice hair, douchebag. Does it come with instructions?”

Megumi's eyes flashed with annoyance, but before he could retort, you spoke up, your voice cutting through the tension. “It’s okay.”

Nobara and Megumi exchanged worried glances, but reluctantly stepped aside, giving Sukuna the space to approach you. You looked at him, your eyes filled with a mix of emotions—anger, hurt, and something else he couldn’t quite place.

Sukuna took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. “I know you don’t want to talk to me.”

You glanced back at Nobara and Megumi, who gave you encouraging nods before moving a little farther away, giving you some privacy while still keeping a watchful eye.

“Oh wow” you said finally, your voice steady but guarded. “Did you figure that by yourself?”

The tension between you was palpable, and Sukuna struggled to keep his emotions in check. He couldn't believe you were here, dressed so beautifully, yet so different from the girl he had known. It was as if you had transformed overnight, and it hurt to see you this way—so distant and angry.

"Why are you here?" Sukuna asked, his voice edged with frustration. "This isn’t your scene."

You met his gaze defiantly, your eyes flashing with determination. "Isn’t that obvious? I came here to have fun.”

His eyes widened in disbelief. "To have fun? This isn't like you. You don’t need to change yourself to fit in here."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "You don’t know me. You’re just some dude who got into my pants for what? A hundred bucks? Turns out I don’t know you either.”

As you turned to walk away, Sukuna instinctively reached out and grabbed your hand, trying to hold you back. "You do know me. And I know you. And I know that this… isn’t you.”

You yanked your arm away, your eyes cold and unyielding. “Fuck you, Sukuna.”

He looked at you angrily, his grip tightening for a moment before he let you go. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "Go ahead and have your fun."

“Oh I will, just watch closely.” You turned your back on him, joining Nobara and Megumi, who had been watching the exchange with wary eyes. The party around you started to intensify, the music growing louder, the crowd more energetic. A popular song blasted through the speakers, and everyone began to dance.

Sukuna stood back, watching as you moved to the rhythm with Nobara. He saw you taking shot after shot, your laughter ringing out as you lost yourself in the moment. It was clear you were trying to drown out the pain, but it only made Sukuna more anxious. He didn’t touch a drop of alcohol, too focused on keeping an eye on you.

His anger simmered as he watched you, feeling helpless. This wasn’t you, he thought. This wasn’t the girl he fell in love with. You were trying to become someone else, someone he knew you wasn’t.

The party continued, and a group of boys from the soccer team entered, their presence adding to the already chaotic atmosphere. Among them was Ino, the team captain. Sukuna recognized him immediately—Ino was known for his charm and confidence, a guy who could have any girl he wanted.

Ino’s eyes landed on you, and Sukuna saw him asking around about you. His jaw clenched as he overheard bits of their conversation.

"Who’s she?" Ino asked one of his teammates, nodding in your direction. "I’ve never seen her before."

"Not sure," the teammate replied. "But damn, she’s hot. Definitely new."

Sukuna’s grip tightened on his drink, the plastic cup crumpling in his hand. He wanted to march over there, to tell Ino to back off, but he knew it would only make things worse.

Ino watched you make your way to the bar, probably asking for more shots for yourself and Nobara. His interest piqued, he took his own shot, quickly following you. Meanwhile, Sukuna stood at a distance, trying to control the storm of jealousy and anger brewing inside him. He kept his eyes fixed on you and Ino, his fists clenched tightly.

As Ino reached the bar, he slid up next to you with a charming smile. "Hey there," he said smoothly. "I don't think I've seen you around before. What's your name?"

You turned to him, your eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and alcohol. "This is my first party," you replied with a giggle.

Ino raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Your first party, huh? Well, you’re definitely making an impression."

You laughed, leaning in a bit closer. “Well, I hope so.” You said, your thoughts filled with alcohol.

Ino grinned, enjoying the attention. "Well, you’ve got the right idea. I’m Ino, by the way."

You smiled, eyes darting to where Sukuna stood, watching him intently. You saw the anger simmering in his gaze, and a mischievous glint appeared in your eyes. You wanted to provoke him, to make him react. You leaned in closer to Ino, whispering something in his ear that made him blush.

Sukuna saw this and felt his control slipping. He couldn't just stand there and watch you flirt with some guy. His jealousy and anger reached a boiling point, and he marched over to the bar, his eyes locked on you.

"Hey, what do you think you’re doing?" Sukuna demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Ino turned to face him, a smirk playing on his lips. "Just having a conversation. Is that a problem, bro?"

You looked at Sukuna, your expression challenging. "We're just talking, Sukuna. Or do you have a problem with that?"

Sukuna’s jaw tightened. "Yeah, I do have a problem. I don't like seeing my girl flirt with some random guy."

Ino raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. "Whoa, whoa. I didn’t know she was your girl. She didn’t mention anything about having a boyfriend."

You crossed your arms, leaning against the bar. "That's because I don’t. We’re not together anymore, remember? I would bet a hundred bucks that you do remember that.”

Sukuna took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “We may not be together right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to stand by and watch this."

Ino chuckled, clearly enjoying the tension. "Looks like you’ve got some competition, Sukuna. Maybe you should step up your game."

Sukuna’s eyes flashed with anger. "Back off, Ino. This isn’t a game."

Ino shrugged, clearly unbothered. "Whatever you say, man. But from where I’m standing, it looks like she’s having a good time without you, am I right princess?”

Sukuna's anger boiled over as he squared off with Ino. "Back off now, or I swear, I'll punch you," Sukuna threatened, his voice low and menacing.

Ino smirked, clearly unfazed. "You think you can intimidate me? Bring it on, man."

Their argument escalated, voices rising above the din of the party. You rolled your eyes at their macho display and decided to walk away, leaving the two boys to their petty fight. You made your way back to Nobara, who was already at the bar, affected by the alcohol as well.

Sukuna saw you leave, realizing what you successfully did, his anger boiling, he quickly turned away from Ino. Who cursed under his breath as Sukuna left him talking to himself, feeling the sting of being ignored.

At the bar, you started taking shots one after another, trying to drown your feelings in alcohol. The music thumped through your body, the lights blurring together as you downed another shot. Your head felt light, limbs heavy, and your vision wavered. You felt a strange mixture of euphoria and disorientation, the world spinning around you in a dizzying dance.

Everything felt distant, like you were floating. You laughed more freely, but there was a desperation to it, a need to escape the pain that lingered in your heart. You leaned on the bar for support, your mind foggy and your thoughts jumbled. You didn’t realize just how drunk you were, caught up in the haze of alcohol.

Sukuna watched you from across the room, his concern growing with every shot you took. He knew you were pushing yourself too far, and he couldn't stand by any longer. He made his way over to you, his heart pounding with worry.

"It's time to leave," Sukuna said firmly, his grip on your arm gentle but unyielding.

You tried to pull away from his grip, your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. "No, I’m having fun. Let me go.”

Sukuna tightened his grip slightly, ensuring you couldn’t slip away. "You're drunk. You need to go home."

You stumbled, your balance unsteady. "I’m fine, let me go!" You slurred, your eyes struggling to focus on him.

Sukuna looked around for help and spotted Choso nearby. "Choso! I need your help," he called out.

Choso quickly made his way over, his concern evident. "What’s up?"

"Help me get Nobara. She’s drunk too," Sukuna said, nodding toward Nobara, who was barely standing.

Choso nodded and went to help Nobara, who leaned heavily on him, giggling uncontrollably. Sukuna kept a firm hold on you, guiding you carefully through the crowd. He searched for Yuuji, needing his help to manage the situation, but Yuuji was nowhere to be found.

Sukuna and Choso managed to get you and Nobara to his car. He gently placed you in the passenger seat, where you immediately fell asleep, head lolling against the window. Choso helped Nobara into the backseat, where she too quickly succumbed to sleep.

"Where the hell is Yuuji?" Sukuna muttered, frustration evident in his voice.

"Let’s look for him quickly," Choso suggested, scanning the crowd.

They headed back into the party, looking for any sign of Yuuji. Sukuna opened one of the doors, and his eyes widened at the sight of Yuuji and Megumi making out passionately. Neither of them noticed Sukuna, too wrapped up in each other.

Sukuna backed out quietly, closing the door behind him. He returned to Choso, shaking his head. "I couldn’t find him," he lied, unwilling to expose his brother's private moment.

Choso sighed. "Alright, let’s get them back to the dorm. I’ll text Yuuji and let him know."

They returned to the car, and Choso pulled out his phone, quickly typing a message to Yuuji: "We’re heading back to the dorm. Everyone’s safe. See you later."

Sukuna started the car and began the drive back to the dorms, the weight of the night pressing heavily on him. He glanced at your sleeping form beside him, his heart aching with regret and worry. He hoped that once you sobered up, you could talk properly, and he could begin to mend the rift between you.

Choso stayed silent during the ride, sensing Sukuna’s turmoil. The streets were quiet, the night air cool and soothing. When they finally reached the dorms, Sukuna parked and carefully carried you inside of his dorm, with Choso doing the same for Nobara.

Choso gently laid Nobara down on the sofa, tucking a blanket around her to keep her warm. He glanced over at Sukuna, who was carefully carrying you to his bed. Sukuna placed you down gently, pulling the blanket over you and brushing a strand of hair from your face.

Choso looked back at Nobara, shaking his head slightly. “Yuuji still isn’t answering,” he said, a hint of worry in his voice.

Sukuna smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “He was kind of busy,” he said teasingly.

Choso frowned in confusion but then shrugged it off, too tired to ask for clarification. He put a glass of water and some ibuprofen on the coffee table for Nobara for when she woke up. “She’s going to need this in the morning,” he muttered.

Sukuna nodded, grateful for his brother’s thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Choso.”

With a sigh, Sukuna made his way back to his room, pausing at the doorway. He saw you sitting up in his bed, looking around the room with bleary eyes. You were clearly still drunk, your movements unsteady.

“Go back to sleep,” Sukuna said softly, his voice filled with concern.

You didn’t listen, your gaze finally landing on him. “Kuna,” you whispered, using the nickname you had given him. The sound of it melted his heart, bringing back a flood of memories.

You stood up, wobbling slightly, and walked toward him. Despite your drunken state, he could see the pain in your eyes, the hurt you were trying to drown out with alcohol. You reached him and began pushing him angrily, your fists hitting his chest.

Sukuna stood still, letting you vent your anger. He didn’t move an inch, your punches not having any effect, but knowing you needed to get it out. You were stronger than you looked, but not enough to physically hurt him. But he deserved anything you threw at him.

“You hurt me,” you cried, your voice breaking. “You broke my heart.” You punched again, “You used me!”

“I know,” he whispered, his own eyes filling with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

You continued to hit him, your punches growing weaker as you started to sob. Sukuna finally reached out, pulling you into a tight embrace. You struggled at first, but then collapsed against him, your sobs shaking your small frame.

“I’m so sorry,” Sukuna repeated, holding you close. “I never meant to hurt you.”

You looked up at him, tears streaming down your face. Your eyes were filled with so much pain, it broke his heart all over again. And then, without warning, you kissed him. Your lips were desperate and passionate, and Sukuna couldn’t help but kiss you back.

For a moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of you, locked in a kiss that was both familiar and new. But then he felt your hands toying with the belt of his pants, and he knew what you were trying to do. He gently grabbed your wrists, stopping you.

“Hey,” he said softly, pulling back slightly and feeling the alcohol on your lips. “You’re drunk. You’re not conscious.”

You began to cry again, burying your face in his chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just… I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too,” he said, his voice choked with emotion.

He guided you back to the bed, laying you down gently. You clung to him, your tears soaking his shirt. Sukuna climbed in beside you, pulling you close. He began to caress your hair, his touch soothing.

“Shh,” he whispered. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just sleep.”

You rested your head on his chest, your breathing slowly evening out as you drifted off to sleep in your drunken state. Sukuna continued to stroke your hair, his heart aching. He had missed this—holding you, comforting you, being close to you.

As you slept, Sukuna thought about everything that had happened. The bet, the breakup, the pain he had caused you. He knew he had a long road ahead if he wanted to earn your trust back, but he was determined to do it. He loves you, and he would do whatever it took to make things right.

But he just hopes that when you wake up tomorrow, you still miss him.

Comments, notes and reblogs are appreciated <3

[buckybabesonly]

Nothing Breaks Like A Heart

Summary: You finally confess your feelings to Bucky, hoping he might like you back. He turns you down.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Avenger!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Mentions of heavy drinking, no other significant warnings really without spoiling the plot 🤫

Word count: 6.5k

A/N: If you enjoyed this one, please do leave a comment / feedback / reblog! ❤️

Loving Bucky was like drinking honey. It was warm and comforting, sweet and overwhelming for your senses. You looked forward to seeing his face everyday and adored hearing him laugh, his whole face creasing when he doubled over at something funny you had said.

He had become an unlikely close ally since you joined the team. More than just a colleague. The time you’d spent together in the last year had been a defining period for you, as you had really grown to treasure his presence in your life.

God, the way this man made you feel. You didn’t think you’d ever be lucky enough to meet someone who would make you so happy.

It would be even better if you actually had the gall to tell him how you felt.

Being emotionally vulnerable was difficult. You wanted more, but it was scary. However, you recalled a piece of advice that one of your college professors had told you years ago, wise words which stuck with you. If you never try, the answer will always be no.

You had it set in your mind that you were going to tell him. You were, but maybe not today. You would wait for tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Your inner turmoil was frustrating. You fought androids and aliens and god knows what else, but you were afraid of this?

It could mess everything up, you reasoned. If he didn’t return your feelings, then you would make everything awkward, and maybe you would lose him even as a friend. You didn't know if you could handle that.

Despite this, a tiny hopeful voice in your head told you that Bucky felt the same about you. The way he always looked for a reason to spend time with you, how he shared his deepest secrets with you. The way you always partnered up on missions, and how you always had each other's backs. The way he comforted you when you were sad, allowing you to cry on his chest, soothing fingers stroking your hair.

When you first joined the team, he had been the first one to properly befriend you. Your first encounter was in the kitchen, where you had ended up in the middle of the night after being unable to sleep.

You were shocked to see Bucky propped up on a breakfast stool at the kitchen island, book in hand. You had waved nervously at him, going over to the fridge to get a carton of chocolate milk.

“Can’t sleep?” he grunted. You glanced to see what it was reading, seeing 'The Hobbit' embossed in gold letters across a hardback cover.

“Yeah,” you said softly, tugging down at the hem of your sleep shirt. You hadn’t exchanged many words with him at this point, but he seemed friendly enough. “You want a glass?”

He contemplated for a second before he nodded. “Sure.”

You ended up sitting opposite each other, glasses of chocolate milk in hand.

“How come you’re awake?”

Bucky smiled wryly. “I have trouble sleeping.”

“Nightmares?”

“Something like that.”

You hummed to yourself, taking a sip of the sweet beverage. There was something childish but comforting about chocolate milk - you always used to have it with your mom when you were small.

“How you feeling?” Bucky asked, breaking the silence. “Settling in?”

You nodded, the grip around your glass tightening. “Yeah, kind of. Everyone’s nice.”

Bucky seemed to know that you wanted to say more, silently promoting you with his eyes to continue.

“Everybody seems very tight knit - I guess that makes me a bit nervous? Trying to fit in.” You looked down, chewing on your lower lip. "I've always had a bit of trouble with that."

“I get you,” Bucky said, eyes still observing you. They were the color of cobalt - stunning. “Don’t worry. I think you’ll do just fine.”

That was the first meeting, and since then, you had only grown closer to him. Your mid-night conversations were a frequent occurrence. At least once or twice a week, you’d find each other in the kitchen at ungodly hours. Over time, you had introduced other activities to pass the time - board games, watching TV shows, fun idle gossip. Each time, you were always accompanied by chocolate milk.

“My mom died when I was six,” you had told Bucky during one of your late night rendezvous, half a year into your time with the team. “I don’t have many memories of her, but I remember that whenever I was sick or sad, she would have chocolate milk with me. It always cheered me up.”

You exchanged nuggets of information about each others pasts, and soon, you were sure that Bucky knew enough about you to write your biography. You felt surprisingly fine, opening up to him about anything and everything.

The seasons passed in a flash, and it was suddenly the one year anniversary of your joining the team. You found Bucky in the kitchen once again, at 3AM on a Thursday. You had a smile ready on your face, though your limbs ached. They were littered with bruises and cuts from your latest mission, but seeing him put a bounce in your step.

Bucky was staring down at his phone, the glow illuminating his face in the semi-darkness. It was chiming loudly with notifications, his expression unreadable.

“What’s that?” you asked, making your presence known.

Bucky already had a glass of milk out for you. He placed his phone down, grimacing.

“Sam got me doing this online dating thing,” he said casually. Your smile fell, unable to hide your surprise. “Modern dating is kind of crazy. Women are so much bolder than in the 40s."

Online dating? What?

“I didn’t know you started online dating,” you said, trying to keep your voice light. You didn’t even know Bucky was Iooking to date. You were deflated - any hopes that Bucky returned your crush were promptly dashed. You tried to swallow your disappointment.

“I wasn’t, really,” he said. “I guess it’s not the worst idea, though.”

Damn you, Sam Wilson, you thought.

“You meet women in real life all the time,” you said, taking your usual seat across him. “No one catch your interest?” You played nonchalantly with your fingers, trying not to pick your nails - a nervous habit.

Bucky pursed his lips, eyes landing on you for a moment before he looked at the ceiling.

“Ah, I don’t know.”

“You met anyone nice so far?” you probed, your jealousy spiking.

“Early days,” he responded. He slid his phone across the surface of the island, showing you the dating app he had open. The girls were plentiful, all beautiful and clearly enthusiastic. Bucky’s inbox was full of flirtatious greetings, but you noticed he hadn’t yet responded to a single one.

“Hmm.” You struggled to keep your face neutral. You felt the sinking realization that he must have never thought of you that way. Otherwise, why would he be looking for someone when you were right there?

You couldn't focus properly on the conversation anymore, your mind racing as Bucky moved the topic onto something unrelated.

Fantasising about Bucky had been dangerous. You had spent so much time imagining the day you would finally confess, and he would reciprocate your feelings and you would have the happy relationship you yearned for. Even if you didn’t confess first, you were hoping he would.

Up until now, you had sometimes told yourself that Bucky was just being patient. That he was old-fashioned, so he was taking his time in courting you.

You realized now that you were simply never considered an option.

The next few weeks were torturous. Christmas was fast-approaching, but you were far from being in the festive mood. You had to put on a front with Bucky now, pretend everything was alright and not feel too tempted to ask about the progress of his dating life. Things were tough, and you were feeling unhappier day by day.

You had always known, deep down, that your feelings for him were more than just a crush, and had been for many months. It ached, the feeling of knowing your emotions were not returned.

One horrible part of you wondered why. Were you not sexy enough? Not smart enough? Not charming enough?

Maybe all of the above.

Seeing Bucky nowadays made you ache. You found yourself feeling sad whenever he cracked jokes with you, shared his thoughts with you, when the backs of his hands brushed against yours as you walked side by side.

He would find someone that he actually wanted to be with, to do all that and more. It wasn’t his fault, and you knew he had no idea that you were in so much pain, that he had single handedly eviscerated you.

Tony's Christmas party was a perfect opportunity to drown your sorrows. So cliché. You knew it was a bad idea, but that didn't stop you knocking back drink after drink by the bar, ignoring Natasha's requests to dance. After all, if all the Hollywood rom-coms you had watched were any indication, this was one of the key steps to getting over a guy.

The party was kicking off, and the room was spinning like a ride at a fairground. Your alcohol tolerance had always been low, and now you were paying for your actions. Your skin was burning hot and prickling, and you were struggling to walk straight. Although, this was exactly what you wanted - it was somehow cathartic, purging you of all the pent of frustration inside.

A dark figure appeared in your eye line. Your vision refocused until you realized who it was - your favorite, handsome face was looking very annoyed right now, mouth set in a firm line.

“You’re drunk,” Bucky stated, his voice filled with annoyance.

“Duh.”

“I’m taking you back to your room,” he said, his hand latching around your bicep.

“No,” you said indignantly, jerking away. Your face blanched at the sudden movement. “I don’t feel well."

Bucky rolled his eyes, opting to steer you towards the balcony instead for some fresh air. He shut the French doors behind you, allowing the silent night air to consume you, isolating the two of you from the crowd.

“Sit,” he said, gently helping you down onto a wrought iron bench. “What were you thinking? You know you can’t drink.”

“I know.”

“Something wrong?” Bucky knew that the answer was yes - there was no other reason for you to be drinking unless you were upset or mad.

“I wanted to forget,” you croaked, leaning your head back to get a proper look at him. The sight of him devastated you. He looked so beautiful, so far out of your reach.

“Forget what?”

You stared up at the ink black sky, at the stars. The night air was cool against your burning skin. Everything was quiet, save the sound of his breathing in your ear as he leaned close to you. In that intoxicated moment, you thought you had nothing to lose, forgetting that Bucky was truly your everything.

“How much I love you,” you whispered, tilting your head to look at him through beseeching eyes.

Bucky sucked in a breath of air. His entire stance became rigid at your words. The way you stared at him imploringly confirmed that he hadn’t misheard.

“How long?” He was frowning even as you gave him a trembling, sad smile.

“A long time.”

He raised his hand as if he wanted to touch you, but settled it back down on his thigh. Your face crumpled at his obvious discomfort.

“I don’t know what to say,” he breathed.

Those words alone were enough to make your throat tighten and the needles in your chest multiply ten-fold.

“Tell me you feel the same way,” you said suddenly. It was a plead. You hated how desperate you were in this moment, but you needed him to know how you felt, and you needed to know whether you had a chance. Call it liquid courage, but you felt like you had nothing to lose when you grasped one of his calloused hands in yours.

Bucky was silent for a long time, staring at you with sadness and regret in his eyes. You hated how uncomfortable you must’ve been making him. God, what were you thinking, burdening him with your feelings and putting him in this position? You scolded yourself mentally, feeling nauseous.

Your hand was tight around his, your knuckles white. With every silent second that passed, your fingers loosened, falling limp. His hand was warm, yet you had never felt so cold.

He pulled his hand free, clenching it into a fist.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. Each word was a knife sinking into your chest. The realization hit you suddenly, thick and sour.

You felt bile rise in your throat. You stood up then, the floor shaking beneath you. You almost collapsed.

“Be careful - ”

“Oh god,” you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I need to go.”

You darted away with surprising speed, wrenching the doors open and hurrying back inside the room. You ignored the sounds of him calling you as you rushed through the crowd, trying to put one foot steadily in front of you and praying you wouldn’t fall.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

You held the tears in until you returned to your bedroom, slamming the door shut. You bolted into the en-suite and fell onto your knees in front of the toilet, the acid in your throat finally seeing the surface as you vomited.

Your stomach heaved, emptying yourself of all its contents. But you couldn’t get rid of the horrible, cloying feeling in your gut that came with Bucky’s rejection.

You fell asleep on the bathroom floor, tear tracks on your face and fresh wound in your heart.

You were dreading seeing him the next morning. Thankfully, you arrived in the conference room before he did. The others were there already, gathered around the table. Sam took one look at you and snickered. You were dressed in black, hair in disarray and a pair of large sunglasses on your face.

“Someone had a bit too much fun last night,” he sang.

You grimaced, closing your eyes at the way his voice boomed in your overly sensitive ears. “Stop shouting,” you croaked.

Bucky entered a few minutes later. You kept your head down, refusing to look at him or otherwise acknowledge his presence. To the others, your hostility could be passed off as a result of your clear hangover. But the excruciating humiliation of your confession to him hung between the two of you, making you squirm in your seat.

You didn’t speak for the rest of the meeting, keeping your sunglasses on and staring stoically at Steve as he delivered the mission briefing. As soon as he dismissed the team, you jogged out of the room, but was accosted by Bucky in the hallway.

“Can we talk?” he asked loudly.

You didn’t want to make a scene. You put a fake smile on.

“Sure.” Your eyes were still swollen behind your dark shades as you tried not to let the sight of him bring out any more tears.

He led you into an empty room a few doors down. His face was set like stone, only the slightest crease in his forehead hinting at something akin to distress.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” he said carefully.

“It’s okay.” You winced in discomfort, even just the sound of your own voice bringing you pain. You wondered if he had rehearsed a speech, to let you down easy.

“You should never drink that much again.” His voice was sharp, critical.

“I can take care of myself,” you said, taken aback by his tone.

“It’s not worth it,” he said, his attitude easing up. “I’m not worth it. I don’t want you to feel this way because of me."

You felt your shoulders sag. You felt so tired, defeated.

"I can't control the way I feel," you whispered.

Bucky kept a reasonable distance between the two of you, like he was afraid to go near you now that the pair of you were alone. You wished you could read his mind, know what he was thinking.

His next words were chilling. "You’re my friend, and I care a lot about you.”

The emphasis on the word ‘friend’ didn’t go unnoticed. The way he looked at you was orchestrated, pointed. He was letting you know, in no uncertain terms, what he wanted to say. You were almost grateful that he didn’t directly bring up how you had told him you loved him, as if to save you your last shred of dignity.

He stared at you now with such intensity, the meaning clear in the way he looked at you. We are just friends.

He was doing you a favour. Still, your heart shattered. Your hands were shaking. There it was again - that awful, stinging pain of rejection.

“Okay,” you said faintly.

“I'm sorry if I ever made you think that we could be anything more," he began. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.

“Let’s not do this,” you interrupted. If he kept speaking, you felt like you might die. You wished the ground would swallow you up.

Bucky licked his lips but remained silent.

“Please..." You hated how your voice shook. "I would really appreciate it if we could just move on. Let’s not bring this up again. It would really help me.”

Bucky folded his arms tightly across his chest, nodding stiffly.

“Okay.”

You backed away from him, grateful your eyes were hidden. You left the room and didn’t look back.

You managed to act normal around Bucky. Well, semi-normal. The rest of the team didn't even seem to notice anything was amiss - you still spoke to Bucky, managed to look at him as if the very sight didn't break your heart, kept a smile on your face.

But that was in front of them. For anything else which wasn't out of necessity or mission-related, you avoided interacting with him. When you woke up in the middle of the night, you no longer plodded into the kitchen, instead staying in your bed, sobbing and staring at the ceiling.

You no longer laughed and joked with him. You turned your attention to the others instead, talking to Steve and Clint and Natasha and whoever else was there, in a desperate attempt to hide the fact that you were trying to keep it together. You wanted to keep your mind distracted.

It was horrible.

Things would not be the same again, at least not for a little while. You needed time to make yourself get over him.

It was easier, when Bucky returned to the compound one night with a blonde on his arm. She was giggling and clinging onto him, and your heart sank when they stumbled into the elevator just as you were making your way to your floor.

You couldn't have been more shocked at the sight of them. Bucky had red prints all over his cheeks, and her lipstick was smeared. The smell of alcohol was in the air.

"You're not supposed to have civilians in here," was the only thing you managed to say, shock infiltrating your system. The blonde giggled.

"Oops."

Bucky only shrugged, his hand slipping into hers as the elevator rose. Your heart clenched.

He was doing this on purpose. He wanted to show you that he had no interest in you, leave you without any doubts. You didn’t know that Bucky had it in him, to be so cruel. If you weren't trying to hold back your tears, you would've almost felt impressed by his antics. The worst thing was, you truly understood why he was doing this.

You think you may have hated him in that moment.

The elevator doors dinged open, and you stumbled out. Tears began prickling in your eyes, and you were sure Bucky could see.

You didn't say anything as you marched to your room, the elevator doors sliding shut.

You had always been good at pretending. Pretending you were happy when you weren't, pretending you were calm when you were furious, pretending you knew the answer when you didn't.

Bucky saw past a lot of that. He could tell when you were lying, could see when you were holding back. He read you like an open book.

He was important to you, and still would be even if he had rejected your confession and rubbed the presence of another girl in your face. You told yourself that it was a good thing - he was performing a service, encouraging you to move on. Besides, he didn't owe you a thing. He could do whatever he wanted with anyone else.

You couldn't lie convincingly to yourself.

Bucky's birthday rolled around all too quickly. You had it marked in your calendar, though you would've remembered even without the reminder.

Despite your conflicted feelings, you wanted to get him a gift. You had planned the perfect one months ago and had enlisted Bruce's help in finding it. You still wanted to see the look on his face when he opened it.

Bucky roamed the hallways on your floor the morning of his birthday, frowning slightly when your bedroom door opened, Bruce appearing in the frame. He caught a glimpse of where you were perched on your bed, face flushed in mild excitement.

Bucky gave Bruce a smile which may have looked more like a grimace, the latter giving him a polite nod before continuing on. Your door swung inwards, but Bucky stuck a hand between it and the frame, poking his head through.

"What's that all about?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

You shuffled something behind your back. You hadn't spoken to Bucky much as of late, barely acknowledging any of the awkward encounters that had occurred in the past months, instead choosing to face him with a professional-politeness.

"Nothing," you said, not particularly aware of what it would look like to have Bruce emerge from your bedroom.

"Is something going on between you two?" he asked directly. He gave a laugh void of humor, the sound escaping him in a huff. "Do you have a thing for emotionally damaged men?" He gestured to himself with his vibranium arm.

The small smile on your lips fell. Anger simmered in your eyes.

How could he? How could he reduce his feelings for you to nothing and stomp on them like it was trash?

You stood and marched towards him, a wave of fury overcoming you, thrusting a wrapped parcel into his hands.

"He helped me get your present, actually. Happy birthday," you spat, watching as Bucky's mouth fell open silently. You pushed past him, unable to look him in the eyes, feeling your stomach twist.

Bucky remained rooted to the spot, fiddling with the wrapping paper hesitantly before he ripped it open.

It was a first edition copy of 'The Grapes of Wrath', excellent condition. The subject of Bucky's favorite books came up after your first encounter when you saw him reading 'The Hobbit'.

"Is it about angry grapes?" you had asked, confused when Bucky laughed. He promised he would buy it and lend you the book one day.

Bucky's ground his teeth, every cell in his body telling him to go after you. But, for all the reasons he had told himself since the day of your confession, he made himself stay put.

Bucky had missed out on a lot in his life since falling off that train in the Austrian Alps. His whole trajectory had changed, and instead of growing old in his century, he found himself in the 21st, thrust into the modern world and navigating his new life.

He always thought, back in the 40s, that he would meet a nice girl and settle down after the war. He would live in a cozy, tiny home and have three kids, maybe four.

He missed out on that and more - though he had been quite the playboy back in his time, he had never experienced true love. He had never met that one woman he would die for.

Bucky had commented off-hand once on how lucky Steve was to meet Peggy before he went into the ice. Steve had reminisced on that with a bittersweet smile, before telling him, you’ll find your Peggy.

Falling in love with you had blindsided him. At first, he viewed you as a friend, a sweet girl who he grew to trust.

Then, he realized that he was slowly being drawn to you, like magnets he couldn’t pull apart. He realized that everything you did was endearing, that you occupied his thought space all the time, that having you around helped him feel comfortable, safe.

You were young, determined, and so innocent. You were somebody who deserved someone as pure and good as you. You weren’t his Peggy - you were something more, so unique and unapologetically you, and he wanted you as his person so badly.

But you deserved someone good. Somebody like Steve, who stood for the best values and only acted for the good of mankind. Not someone morally-gray and jaded like Bucky.

He wanted someone to spend his life with, for sure. If he couldn’t have his idyllic life in the post-war period, then he still wanted to find a partner in this new, still-unfamiliar time.

You fit that profile. He wanted you.

But he would never forgive himself if he weighed you down with his sins.

When you told him you loved him, his heart had broke. He wanted to tell you how much he valued you, how he dreamed of kissing you. He wanted to be a part of your happy ending.

But how much of a happy ending could he really give you? Could he give you children, knowing they would always be in danger from his enemies? Could he give you a wedded, domestic life, when all he knew was how to fight and cause pain?

He had to make his sacrifice for the greater good. Even if he had to crush you, he had to do it.

Someone like Bucky wasn’t supposed to get happy endings. You were, but just not with him.

You couldn't stand to be around him anymore. It was affecting your concentration, your work. It reached a breaking point two weeks after Bucky's birthday, when you requested to speak to Steve privately.

"You want to leave?" he asked, his face appalled.

You nodded curtly. "You’ll still be able to contact me, if you really need me. But I don't think I can stay here anymore."

Steve didn't look as confused at your profession as you expected.

"Is this about Bucky?"

You cringed. God, did he know about everything that happened?

"I don't know what's going on between the two of you," he clarified quickly, "but I can see that something happened. He's not the same, either."

"I'm not in a good place right now," you admitted shamefully. "I'm not saying that this is goodbye forever, Steve. But for my own sanity, I think I need a break."

Steve heaved a sigh. "I know you wouldn't ask unless you really needed it. And you don't need my permission, you know."

"I know," you said, giving him a small smile. "But I just wanted to let you know that I'll be here whenever the team needs it. Emergencies only," you joked. "But for now I think I'll get out of here. Maybe go upstate."

"Have you told him?"

"Don't need to," you said, defensiveness creeping into your voice.

"I think he would like to know."

“We’re not really on speaking terms,” you said bluntly.

Steve clasped a heavy hand on your shoulder. He knew better than to argue. He was sure you’d figure things out for yourself, anyway. “I’ll miss you.”

Now that you had completed the professional courtesy, you decided that you would leave in a few days. You still had some matters to wrap up, and to say goodbye to your teammates. You loved them, and they deserved a proper farewell.

"This isn't goodbye," Nat had said sternly, pulling you into a tight hug. Her voice was quiet and soft in your ear as she whispered, "If you need me, I'll be there."

You squeezed her tight, threatening to tear up. "Thank you."

"Keep your ass out of trouble," Clint had said, winking at you. “And check in with us now and again, yeah?”

Sam was clearly unhappy about everything. And he definitely noticed that you had picked a day to make your announcement when Bucky was conveniently away from the compound.

"Am I gonna see you again?" he asked, raising his eyebrows after you'd embraced.

"Couldn't get rid of me if you tried," you promised, punching his arm.

You retired to your bedroom that night, sure that Bucky would hear the news later after he came back. You kept your phone switched off and door locked for the rest of the evening, making sure the your belongings were packed.

Just past midnight, you crept out of your room, duffel bag over your shoulder. You made your way through the compound, down the floors into the underground garage. Bucky's motorbike wasn't there - he still hadn't returned.

You were grateful. You climbed into your car, and tossed your belongings in the back. You had to stop thinking about him - if you let yourself do it for too long, you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to go.

With a heavy heart, you left this chapter of your life behind.

Your phone rang for days afterwards. Missed calls, voicemails left unanswered, texts left unread.

You couldn't bear to face him. If you pretended he didn't exist, maybe it would ease the pain.

You didn't know where you were driving to. You simply knew you had to get as far away as possible, clear your head. You were at a crossroads, and you needed to pull yourself together, but for now you would allow yourself to wallow.

You had been spending each night in a different motel. Wake up, drive, sleep. Wake up, drive, sleep. You wanted to put as much distance between yourself and Bucky Barnes as possible.

You had no idea how you had gotten everything so wrong. Did you really misinterpret the signals? Was every intimate moment between the two of you simply platonic?

You didn't want to feel so beat up over a guy, but he wasn't just any guy. He was the first man you had ever loved.

Life was funny, sometimes. You supposed that you couldn't always expect happy endings.

You kicked open the door of the latest motel, a bag of takeout in your hands. You noticed the dark, shadowy figure on your bed in an instant, your hand sliding to the dagger sheathed in your belt on reflex. Before your brain even had time to catch up with what you were seeing, you had aimed and launched it, shocked when a familiar voice rang out.

"Calm down, tiger," he rasped. The bedside light flicked on, and Bucky was suddenly there, twirling your dagger between his fingers. He tossed it to the side, letting it land on the carpet with a soft thud.

A week had passed since you last saw him. Seeing him sent an electrifying jolt straight through your core.

"What are you doing here?" you asked. You were shocked, but your first thought was that something terrible had happened. "Is it the team? Are they in danger?"

Bucky looked irate, his jaw clenching and unclenching. His hands were knotted together, worry hiding beneath his anger.

"I've been calling you for days. You left without saying goodbye. Hell, you left without saying anything." His voice was gruff and accusatory.

That gave you the answer you needed. The team were fine, and he was simply here to rant. You felt the initial shock of his appearance wear off.

He stood up and stepped towards you, and that was when you noticed the state he was in. His usually close shaven beard was slightly unkempt, and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked worn out.

"Yeah," you retorted, "I kind of did that on purpose."

"Why?" His voice was a whisper. "Why would you do that?"

You were exasperated. You did not envision yourself having to explain your decisions to him. His appearance both delighted and depressed you. It was tiring, having these two sides battle each other whenever you saw him. Your love for him versus his heavy rejection.

"I can't be around you anymore," you admitted, your voice tight. "I thought I could, but I can't."

"Why the hell not?" he pressed stubbornly.

"You know why!" you cried out. "Why are you doing this to me, Bucky? I told you I loved you and, okay, you don't love me. Fair enough," you said, frustrated. "But to go out of your way to hurt me? Remind me that I'm nothing more than a friend? Bring other girls back to the compound so you can fuck them?"

Bucky flinched. "I never - "

"No!" you shouted, cutting him off. "You don't get to do this, Bucky." You felt wetness on your cheeks, and realized you were crying. It only made you more exasperated. "You don't get to tear my heart out of my chest and come here when I've been trying to get away from you."

He stormed up to you, hands reaching for you, but you batted him away.

"Don't!" Your hand hit his chest, barely moving him an inch. "Just stop! Please!" Your voice broke, and you shook with tears. The dam had broke, and seeing him here was just too much.

"Please don't cry," he pleaded, his face anguished.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice breaking. "What do you want from me?"

Bucky looked so upset, taking another step forward, but you walked backwards until you hit the door.

"You don't want me," you exclaimed through your tears. You needed him to understand how much pain you were in just by seeing him. "You can't be here, Bucky. I can't look at you and remember how you just don't love me back."

Bucky pulled you into his arms, tightening them when you struggled. He was stronger than you - you had no choice but to become a prisoner against his chest. You were crying as you had many times before in his hold, but this time it felt different. Your heart was pounding and you were aching, wanting to melt into him but also aware of the anger and sadness flaring within you. It was torture.

"It hurts too much," you managed to get out through your wailing sobs.

He didn't say anything until you stilled. He let you cry, your tears soaking through his shirt. Your quiet sniffs and hiccups accompanied his words when he finally spoke.

"You weren't supposed to appear in my life," he said, his voice tense. "You weren't supposed to be so wonderful, so comforting. You made me feel so safe."

You didn't say anything, confusion rendering you temporarily speechless.

"I thought I was fine on my own. I've been a soldier all my life, just focusing on fighting everyone else's battles. And then I met you."

You had no idea where this was going as Bucky's arms seemed to tighten all the more around you.

"It felt...strange, how I wanted to kiss you. How I wanted you there, next to me, all the time.”

You looked up at Bucky, really taking in his exhausted eyes, his chapped lips, the way he was looking at you now with an exquisite softness.

"I felt like I was doing something wrong. I thought - I don't want to - ruin you," he said. "You are so young and have your whole future ahead of you and I didn't want to bring you down with all of me. My history, my demons, my baggage. And I ended up hurting you."

A spark of hope appeared, wanting to ignite into a flame. You expelled a shaky breath.

"Do you love me?" you asked, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he continued to hold you.

He nodded, his words like velvet. "How could I not? Of course I love you."

Of course, he said. But your insecurities prevailed, and you shook your head.

"You did a good job of hiding it," you said sadly.

Bucky closed his eyes regretfully.

"I know. I don't know what I was thinking. I thought if I could push you away, make you fall out of love with me, you would find someone worthy."

"What makes you think you're not worthy?" you retorted.

"Some days, I feel like no amount of good deeds I do can redeem me," he murmured.

"Bucky," you said slowly. "You're one of the best men I've ever known. Your heart is so kind."

"I'm sorry." He grasped one of your hands, brought it to his lips, kissing the back of your hand. "I'm sorry I hurt you. Part of me thought you would shrug, get over it and find someone else."

Your smile was full of sorrow. "Then you have no idea how much you truly mean to me.

Bucky cupped the side of your face. Seeing you in this state had truly been a wake up call for him. When he found out you had left the compound, all his resolve had crumbled. He realized that he had hurt you so deeply that you couldn’t physically be around him. That was when he knew that the connection between the two of you was too rare to let it slip, when he felt an immense pain at the idea of never seeing you again.

Having you in front of him now was heartbreaking. Your eyes were puffy, and you looked tired and so frail. He loved you, and you were supposed to take care of the people you loved. He swore on his life that he would dedicate himself to showing you what you really meant to him.

"When you asked me what I'm doing here," Bucky said, a hopeful smile on his face, "It's to tell you that I love you, so much. And I'm here to take you home."

You nodded, fresh tears filling your eyes, except this time they were borne from happiness.

"Let's go."

He had already packed your belongings for you, you realized when he released you to hoist your bags over his shoulder, which he had placed by the door. He paused, slipping his hand into his pocket and placing a tiny kid-sized carton into your hand. "Almost forgot. For the journey."

Chocolate milk.

You threw your arms around him, jumping to hook your legs around his hips. He dropped your bags as you kissed him, his hands reaching to support your thighs as he returned it with equal passion.

"This room is paid for," you gasped into his mouth. "Let's go back tomorrow."

He was silent when he walked back to fall onto the bed with you on top of him, his mouth never once leaving yours.

[whxtedreams]

In pain and heartache. In comfort and love.

A Jackson!Joel x f!reader oneshot

Summary: They were so desperate to hold each other after tasting life without one another.

Word Count: 2.5k

Tags: Jackson!joel, mentions of ellie and her AMAZING puns, Tommy providing comfort, pain, heartache, fear, anxiety, love, apologies, kissing, desperation. reader has she/her pronouns as i write in third person POV, reader has hair Joel can play with, reader has no other descriptions- photos for aesthetic purpose only.

Main masterlist

With pain and heartache, she watched him live without her. 

Her eyes watched every move he made. Every step he took. Every smile he blessed those around him with.

It was an aching reminder of what could have been. The weight of their unresolved past seemed only visible to her. Every breath she took a battle in the heaviness in her chest.

She longed to reach out, to bridge that gap between them she did not realize had begun to form until it was too late.

But the fear of making what little they had left worse held her back. So, she stood in silent agony, her heart breaking as she watched Joel from across the bar.

Tommy had found his way to her, a smile of sympathy and drink in hand. His eyes filled with sadness and understanding, a silent acknowledgment to the suffering.

He knew, after all. Knew how prone his brother was at breaking those he cared for. Tommy had been broken too. 

He held the drink out to her. “Thought you could use this,” he said softly. His voice was gentle like a comforting embrace. 

Her eyes slowly pulled away from Joel as she accepted the drink. She watched the liquid within swirl around in the glass and she found herself hypnotized by its movement. The memory of Joel's drunken state when he pushed her away resurfaced, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. The sight of the drink in her hand now felt like a cruel reminder of his harsh rejection.

“He’ll come around, always does,” Tommy said, his hand gently placed on her shoulder.

The words were meant to comfort her, but they felt hollow and insincere. She knew the truth, deep down. This time it felt different, a finality to Joel’s actions.

His absence stung, like an open wound that wouldn’t heal. She forced a small nod, struggling to feign optimism. "He said he could never love me." she said, her voice barely a whisper.

Tommy sighed. His hand fell from her shoulder. He cast a glance at Joel, then back at her, conflict and concern etched across his face.

Her eyes trailed back to Joel, drawn by Tommy's gaze. There he was, laughing heartily at Ellie, her pun book in hand as she hunched over in laughter.

The sight of him happy and carefree, the sound of his laughter filling the air, made her heart ache. She tried to hold back the pain, to maintain her composure, but she couldn’t help but yearn for the past.

"He's scared of losing you," Tommy said.

The words hung heavy in the air, echoing the silent weight that rested on her shoulders. She knew he was right, that fear had been a driving force behind Joel's actions. But it didn't make it any easier to bear the hurt and disappointment his fear had caused. She nodded silently, her gaze fixed on Joel and Ellie, their joyful exchange a bittersweet contrast to her own internal turmoil.

Her eyes left Joel and locked onto Tommy's. "If he's so scared of losing me, then why did he push me away?" she asked, her voice quivered as tears threatened to escape her eyes. The desperation and confusion in her voice hung in the air, seeking an answer that she knew might never come.

Tommy's expression softened as he looked at her, compassion in his eyes.

 "He's lost a lot, I suppose he'd rather push you away on his terms than let fate do it for him.”

The pain of Joel’s past losses echoed through her mind. She knew the weight of his pain had shaped him, had forced him to build walls around himself. He'd rather sever ties than risk the hurt of losing someone he let himself love, even if it meant losing them in the process.

Her eyes slowly returned to Joel and as their gazes locked, she saw the intensity in his eyes. It was clear he had been watching her, their gazes drawn to each other like magnets. There was something different in his eyes, a vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. She held his gaze for a moment, questioning the thoughts and emotions that flickered across his face.

Did he regret it? she thought, her mind filled with uncertainty. Did he miss her like she missed him?

Did he still lie in bed, reaching for her in the early hours of the morning? Like he had on those nights under the stars during their journey to Jackson.

Did he still clench his fists by his side or fidget with the watch on his wrist when he didn't know what to say? Did he miss her taking his hand in hers to distract him?

Did he wish that he loved her?

Or did he regret it all?

"It might not seem like it anymore, but he cares for you," Tommy said, his voice steady and reassuring. "I saw it when he carried you in, see it now." She turned to him, searching his face for any sign of deception, but there was none.

Only honesty and concern reflected on her.

Her gaze returned to Joel, drawn by his movement as he stood from the table.

His eyes were on her, only her.

“I can’t do this,” she murmured, her voice tinged with frustration as she handed the glass back to Tommy. Ignoring his call for her, she turned and walked out of the bar, desperately needing some fresh air and space to collect her thoughts.

The night air hit her as she stepped outside, cold and crisp, and it provided a respite from the oppressive atmosphere inside. She took a deep breath, attempting to calm her racing heart and tumultuous emotions.

Oh fuck, she thought. She fucking missed him.

And as if her heart seemed to call for him, she heard the door open once more. She turned to see Joel step out, the soft light of the moon bathing them in a silvery glow. It was as if the night itself tried to bring them together.

She looked at him from behind watery eyes, her emotions threatening to overflow. In turn, he watched her with eyes that mirrored her own pain, a reflection of the suffering that had come between them. They stood there under the night sky, silent and yet speaking volumes, each knowing the depth of the other's heartache.

Only difference was, he had caused all of this.

The unfairness of it all, the weight of the isolation and pain he had inflicted upon her, pressed down on her like his own heavy hand. He stood there, the cause of her heartache, while she endured his consequences alone. The anger and anguish in her heart flared, but it couldn't overpower the deep love and longing she still carried within her.

Joel didn't utter a word, and she didn't expect him to. Instead, he closed the space between them, pulling her into a tight embrace. His hand rested on her head, his touch gentle and comforting as he cradled her against his chest. His nose to her hair. Her hands trembled as they clutched onto the fabric of his jacket, holding him tightly, as if she was afraid he might disappear.

He pulled back slightly and lifted her face gently. His fingers traced her cheek as if his touch would break her. Their gaze met, and she saw the well of pain reflected in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice a hushed whisper that hung in the night like a fragile thread.

From anyone else, the apology may have felt hollow, meaningless. But from Joel's lips, it held a weight and significance that she understood. For an apology from him was rare and precious, like discovering clean, fresh water in the middle of a vast wasteland. The impact of his words, simple as they were, struck a chord deep within her heart. She could feel the significance of each syllable, was a lifeline in her sea of despair. A flicker of hope in the darkness that had enveloped her heart.

"I should never have told you to leave." He spoke again, his voice choked with emotion, his eyes never left hers.

The words hung heavily in the air, a confession of regret that cut deep. A single tear slipped down his face, a testament to the depth of his remorse. It was a crack in the stoic facade he often wore, a glimpse into the depths of his own hurt and guilt.

She had never seen him cry.

The tear, a crystalline droplet that glistened on his cheek.

"Why did you push me away, then? As if I never meant anything to you," she said, her heart shattered by his own hands.

Joel shut his eyes, his forehead rested against hers, his breath warm on her face. His other hand clenched tightly at the fabric of her waist, while the one holding her face remained gentle and tender, a stark contrast to his tense grip.

His voice trembled as he spoke, each word laden with truth. "I'm so scared I'll let you in, only for you to die on me," he confessed. "I can't lose you too."

His fingers trembled against her skin. She reached up and gently took his hand in hers, bringing it to rest over her heart. It beat a steady rhythm under his palm, a silent reassurance that she was there, alive and breathing.

“You are losing me Joel.”

Joel opened his eyes, so full of pain as he took in her words.

“I’m sorry.” His apology was a mere whisper against her lips. And then, a breathless moment.

His lips delicately touched hers, a whisper-soft kiss filled with tenderness and vulnerability, as fragile as a butterfly's wing. It was as if he were afraid to press too hard, to cause her any more harm than he already had.

As quick as it began, it was over. He pulled away, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead before he tucked her head back into his chest. His fingers played with her hair as he looked up at the starry night sky and she could feel his body relaxing as he held her close.

"If the Lord gave me another chance, I would go back and make things right," he said as his heartbeat quickened beneath her ear. Her hand found its way to his chest as it laid over his heart soothingly, if only to calm the anxiety that had taken root within him.

"All I do is miss you. I can’t sleep, can’t eat. I was so stupid to push you away," he confessed, his chest shuddered with a soft sob. She pulled back slightly, only to witness a torrent of tears streaming down his face. The single tear had multiplied as it turned to a river of sorrow that spoke louder than any words could.

She gently wiped the tears from his face as her own fell silently in tandem.

His bottom lip trembled, and without a second thought, she did what came naturally to her. Her lips found his in a tender kiss and she could feel the tension in him slowly melt away as he released a shuddering breath.

His hand tangled in her hair and he pulled her closer as he deepened the kiss. He poured months of pent-up emotions into the kiss, a mix of regret, yearning, and a love so powerful it threatened to consume them both. Teeth scrapped against teeth, a primal collision of passion and desperation. It was a moment of intense connection, a release of the feelings that had been locked away for far too long.

Her back shoved against the hard surface of the wall. His hands roamed over her body in a desperate attempt to re-familiarize himself with every contour, every dip and curve. It was as if he was trying to memorize her all over again, as if he were afraid she would disappear from his grasp once more.

The pain she had carried with her began to fade away under the onslaught of his lips against hers, his touch hungry and urgent. Her hands clutched at his shirt, fingers clenching the fabric tightly as if she was afraid to let go. Afraid that if she did, he too would slip through her grasp once more.

Their mouths explored each other fiercely, the taste, the feel, the essence of each other an intoxicating drug that they had been deprived of for too long.

So desperate to hold each other after tasting life without one another.

The sound of the bar doors opening shattered the intimate bubble that had enveloped them. Noise spilled into the night air from inside as they hastily tore themselves away from each other. Their gazes locked with Tommy's as he stood frozen in the doorway, surprise etched across his face.

Tommy's eyes flicked down to where Joel's thigh had found its way between hers. "Jesus Christ, can you two make up somewhere else?" he teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

Joel's breath was ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he chuckled, out of breath. His calloused hands held her face tenderly; the rough pads of his thumbs caressed her cheeks. He looked down at her with tenderness and amusement, a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips as Tommy mumbled under his breath as he walked back inside.

“What do you say, come home?” he asked. A hint of hopefulness in his voice, tempered by the fear that shone in his eyes.

“Do you love me?” She asked.

“I want to try.” He said without a beat.

“I think I can live with that.”

The night was quiet, the silence only broken by the soft whisper of the wind as it blew in through the open window. The room was illuminated by the soft glow of the stars outside, their light danced through the gaps in the curtain that fluttered in the breeze.

Joel's face was buried in the crook of her neck, his body wrapped tightly around hers. He inhaled deeply; his breath warm against her neck. His arms encircled her, his grip firm yet gentle, as if he were afraid to let go. He was seeking comfort in her presence, finding solace in her warmth and familiarity.

She was too afraid to sleep. Worried that when she woke, he would be gone once more.

As the first light of day crept through the window, her eyes slowly opened and she expected to find an empty space beside her. However, his grip on her remained firm as he pulled her closer into his chest. His arms wrapped around her as he slept peacefully, forever reaching for her. A wave of relief washed over her, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

She made a silent vow to herself as she felt the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back. No matter how far he tried to push her away, no matter how much pain spilled from him and to her, she would never let go of him again. She would fight, crawl, and struggle with every ounce of her being to get back to him.

With comfort and love, she watched him sleep by her. 

Notes

this was meant to be around 0.5k but it just kept going??? also Flora writes about kissing as someone who’s never been kissed so as always, take it with a grain of salt as i have no idea what i’m talking about lol - should honestly be a warning itself had a yucky day so here's some hurt & comfort also the starting line and ending line match and im proud of that lol.

[lev1hei1chou]

Make Or Break

Gojo x reader Genre: Angst to Comfort Words: 925 Synopsis: You get into an argument with Gojo Masterlist

You and Satoru Gojo had always shared an unique dynamic. Banters were numerous, but actual arguments were a rare occurence. However, today's argument had escalated beyond your usual disagreements. The tension in the air was thick and overwhelming, creating an almost suffocating atmosphere in the room.

It started with a simple misunderstanding, a miscommunication that had eventually snowballed into a heated exchange of words. Gojo's piercing gaze bore into you as he argued his point vehemently, his words cutting through the air like a knife. Your own frustration bubbled to the surface, and soon, you were both caught in a whirlwind of accusations and harsh truths.

"Is it so hard for you to understand, Gojo? You never listen!" you snapped, your voice rising to match his intensity. "You act like you know everything, but you never take the time to truly understand how I feel!"

Gojo's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in frustration. "Maybe if you were clearer about your feelings, I wouldn't have to play guessing games all the damn time!"

The room seemed to shrink as the argument intensified, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Hurtful phrases were exchanged like rapid-fire, each one leaving a deeper wound than the last.

"You're impossible to be with, Gojo. I can't keep up with your constant need to be right!"

"Oh, please. Maybe you just can't handle someone who challenges you for once."

The words hung in the air, a painful reminder of the growing rift between you. The initial spark that had drawn you together now felt like a distant memory. The raw emotion in Gojo's eyes mirrored your own internal turmoil.

In the midst of the chaos, neither of you noticed the tears that welled up in your eyes. The realization of the damage done sank in, but the anger still lingered, preventing either of you from taking a step back.

"I need space," you declared, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sadness.

Gojo's expression hardened, but he nodded in reluctant agreement. "Fine. Take all the space you need."

With that, you stormed out of the room, leaving Gojo alone in the echoing silence. The weight of the argument settled on both of your shoulders, the once vibrant connection now strained and fragile.

The aftermath of the heated exchange left a bitter taste in your mouth, and only time would tell whether your relationship could cross these hurdles or if it would crumble under the weight of unspoken words.

*******************************

Days passed since the explosive argument with Satoru Gojo. The silence between you two hung heavy and the tension was a constant presence in the air.

It became a silent game of avoidance, with both of you trying to find solace in the absence of each other. However, as time went on, the longing for resolution grew, and the desire to fix what was broken became too strong to ignore.

One evening, the realization hit you like a ton of bricks - you couldn't let the argument be the end of everything you'd built with Satoru. With a heavy sigh, you decided to take the first step towards reconciliation. As you approached your shared room, your heart raced with a mix of nervousness and determination.

You knocked on the door, and after a moment of tense silence, Gojo opened it. His eyes met yours, revealing a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. Without saying a word, you stepped inside, and he closed the door behind you.

The room felt charged with unspoken emotions as you both stood there, unable to look directly at each other. Finally, you broke the silence, your voice quiet but resolute. "We can't keep avoiding this, Satoru."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know, okay? But what do you want from me?"

"I want us to talk. Really talk. Without the yelling and the accusations," you replied, your gaze meeting his. "I miss us, Satoru. I miss the connection we used to have."

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, me too."

You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. "I know we both said things we didn't mean. I just… I want to understand you better, and I want you to understand me. Can we try to find a middle ground?"

Gojo sighed again, the weight of the situation evident in his eyes. "I don't want to lose you, you know? But sometimes I feel like you're pushing me away."

The vulnerability in his voice struck a chord within you. "I'm not trying to push you away. I just need you to listen, really listen, and not just assume you know what's best for me."

There was a moment of silence, and then Gojo nodded. "I can do that. I want to do that."

The air in the room shifted as you both acknowledged the need for change. It was a small step, but a significant one. You spent the next hours talking, opening up about your fears, frustrations, and desires. Slowly, the walls that had built up during the argument began to crumble.

As the night wore on, the conversation shifted from the heavy weight of the argument to the lighter, more tender aspects of your relationship. Laughter replaced the tension, and the genuine connection you'd feared lost began to resurface.

By the time you both decided to call it a night, there was a newfound understanding between you. A mere argument can't demolish the bond that was built from years of knowing each other.