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scara-writes · 2 months

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paramour

Yandere!Cheating Duke X Duchess! Reader X Yandere!Lover Servant

I just want to write a reader who has the same/more power as/to the yandere(s).

The setting is still in the fantasy/manhwa world, medivial, any setting as long it's not modern.

CW: two yandere, rivals, cheating, consent smut, infidelity.

I'm making the darling a little more forward(?), daring, more power or that can go against a yandere. Atleast, that's what the darling thinks. Also, this is not polished like my other stories.[ Forgive me, I'm not good with smuts! I also love y'all comments and your ask/request(will answer them soon!). The Yandere Emperor and Yandere Crown Prince son really outnumbered the yandere Omega. Y'all are crazy for that!]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Mistress." He murmured. His arms hadn't let go off your waist. It was the first thing your eyes landed on when the sunlight came in to greet a new day from the window balcony. You closed your eyes again to find your way back to sleep again.

Your hands went to trace his back full of scar last night from your nails. You hummed when he gave you a pepper kisses on your exposed skin.

"Morning." He gave you one last kiss on your lips before snuggling between your chest. His arms hadn't move around your waist since last night."Mmmh..morning..." You muttered looking away—eyes still close—from the sun when it kissed your face.

"Do you want me to call the maids to serve you breakfast?" His sweet voice lull to sleep more. You whispered no. Last night, this man gave you something akin to that of heaven, something your husband never gave you.

Last night, you made love with this man. The same man you rescued from the human trafficking, kidnapping commoner from the outskirts of the kingdom. Now, indebted by your kindness he devout himself to you with his life.

You groaned, feeling your body is aching all over. This goes not unnoticed by your lover."Did I hurt you to bad?" He asked. His earth orbs are gleaming with shine and now getting filled with tears. "I-I'm sorry, I was rough with you mistress." His voice full of regret and loathe on himself.

You opened your eyes, ruffling his curly brown hair before stroking it. Staring down at his eyes. "No. You did good." You smiled at him, cupping his face, before kissing him in the lips. He whimpered,deepening his into yours.

The intoxication of alcohol must have taken over you. Drowning yourself from alcohol after your husband didn't arrive on the scheduled date, you waited for him for a whole day to arrive. Alone in the gazebo, Everett was the one who went to your weeping figure. That was a month ago. Everett offered himself to shower you with his love. At first you feel reluctant about this, you will never be the type of person to use someone just so you can feel yourself happy. Everett didn't care about it whether you use him or not. He wanted to prove himself that you are worth to be love. This man made your heart flutter in a way that your husband once gave you before the marriage.

"I-I love what happened last night, my mistress." He whispered bashfully, his pretty swollen lower lip,you bitten hard last night, went to reach his eyes giving you a wide smile. The sun kissed his tan face adding a charming look. His neck has full of bites and bruises from you. His cheeks become a little darker shade from blushing, he must have reminisced something last night.

Now, you made him your lover. Though not completely in love with Everett. You also shower him with items or materials that most commoners would love to have but it doesn't seem like this man is materialistic. He just wants you.

You didn't hide Everett to your husband.

What's the use of hiding your fling to Theodore when he was the first one to cheat on this marriage?

Despite being loyal to that man you loved. He had the audacity to tell you that you shouldn't pry on his private his life after you confronted him with a newly hired maid going out. "Our marriage contract states that the two parties should not meddle one another's private life else this contract shall be annuled."

So all of his flexing his love for you was nothing but a hoax? A show? A lure for you to agree to marry him?

Though, your marriage with him was for the politcial marriage. You once fell in love with Theodore. The same man who gave you flowers everytime you two date, the same man who kissed in your cheeks after he walk you home, the same man who always writes poems about his devotion to you. Did he pursuade you to continue this marriage by making you love him so that the two duchy became one? It may seem like you wanted this marriage at first. You didn't, your family wanted it and they have asked you—no annoyingly, they plead you to marry him, because your parents and his parents signed a contract that their children will reunite the two duchy.

"Your ladyship, the duke asked for your audience to join him in the breakfast." Your butler from the other side of your room, outside the door, knocked and speaks after. You frown upon hearing it, looking at the closed door, what does he want?

You feel strange about your husband nowadays. He had been asking for your presence this past few days. Never once he called for you after your wedding with him.

You clicked your tongue and turn to look at your lover. You saw Everett's face was frowning too. "Fine, tell him I'll be there." You announced to the butler. You look back at the man leaning his weight on you. You tap the curly haired lover to let you go from his hold yet he didn't budge after moving yourself to sit up instead you heard yourself going 'oomfh!' and find your lips were on his again. You groaned while he moaned weakly. He pushed you down on the bed, his lips never leaving yours until you were out of breath. A string of saliva trailed between your mouths. Everett was smiling before diving his lips into your skin, to one of your chest, fondling the other. You feel a little ticklish and panting at his stimulation. "Eve—! Wait! Ah..." Your voices went unheard, The male's mewling sucking on to your flesh like thirsty man who hadn't had a drink.

Your hand went to tug his hair as you moaned out his name. "Shi—Eve... Oh! S-stop... Ah.."

His other hand goes to put one of legs above his back and parted the other leg, accessing himself between you even more."m-mistress!"

You groaned when you felt him grind between you. He looked at you with a pleading eyes, he look like he will cry again, the tears filling up yo the side from his eyes. "M-mistress." He whined his mouth was already in another mound. You feel his hardness between. "p-please? I'll be good! Please... huff..I'll make y-you feel good!"

Your eyes are hazy from the pleasure. "You want.. hah... it?" His eyes getting filled again with tears. You tug him by the hair not enough to hurt him. You landed your lips on his ears. Panting and breathless when you felt his hands is still fondling your body. "You got..ngh... to earn it, pretty boy." You murmurs made him whimpered. "You have to be my good boy... Are you my good boy?"

He nod, a tear fell down to his cheeks, he leaned down to your lips, murmuring, i-am-your-good-boys, thank-yous and I-love-yous.

The room filled with noises that could make anyone flustered and uncomfortable. You didn't realize from your high you are feeling that the butler is coughing uncomfortably behind the door excusing himself as he will inform the duke what you told him earlier.

You went down the stairs with a difficulty, aching between your thighs. You can't find any dress to cover the one hickey on your neck, Everett apologize and helped you cover it with a foundation but it failed horribly from covering seeing that the foundation wasn't blend well and you do not want your maids do it for you. Not when you found out that almost all of them had already been with your husband. You were planning to replace them sooner.

You stopped at the closed door leading to the dinning room. The butler from earlier straightened his posture, clearing his throat after he saw you. He announced your presence behind the door opening the door for you."My lord, your ladyship is here."

You walked in after thanking one of the male servant for pushing the seat for you once you sit across the lord of the household, your husband, the Duke.

The breakfast before you was served cold. If you have arrived earlier you could have eaten warm. You glance at your husband, surprised that his plate has not been finished and it looked like he didn't touched it. You noticed his eyes is trained on to you since you came in, yet his eyes isn't on you but to your neck and the way you walk earlier.

His grey eyes seemed to be narrowing, he scoffed. "You're late."

You glance away, picking one of the utensil, stabbing the meat, landing it to your mouth chewing it. You gulped it down before taking another bite. The marinated pork seems to be delicious even if the breakfast a little no warm.

"It seems you are enjoying with your toy a little too much." He added, there was anger rising beneath his voice.

Oh, the egg is a little bland but it is still edible nonetheless.

"There are more new reports about your speculated infidelity to the public. Do you know that?"

You looked at him after eating the last piece of the sunny side egg, smiling: finally acknowledging his presence."Yeah, what about it? It's not like it will ruin our marriage. After all, you had a numerous of headlines about your 'rumored' infidelity too. Did our contractwas nulled after that? It didn't right?"

"(Y/n)."

"Yes, husband?"

His eyes widened a little before going back on giving you death gaze. "Kick that slave away. I don't like him." He demanded. Though he wasn't shouting. You frowned, how dare he?

"Why would I? It's my decision whether I choose to throw him out or not."

"I do not want him near my property." He complained, gritting his teeth at the last word.

"This is my property as well!" You sternly answered back. Not leaving another room for an argument.

There was silence between the room.

"... I... don't want him near you." You heard him. You blinked at the sudden word that blurted in his mouth.

You scoff standing up, "I think I should finish my meal somewhere..." You starts walking back to where you enter the room.

"(Y/n)." Theodore called you. You didn't observe the way his eyes longed for you. You were focus on the anger within you. "Are we forgetting something, Theodore?" You questioned.

He pondered, those orb you used to love held a confusion.

"Meddling into your partner's private life will annul this marriage... Wasn't that written in our contract?" You bitterly told him. "Sounds familiar right? Do not dare demand me to throw away Everett." You added.

Finally waiting for this moment for this to happen. Guess he will get to taste his own medicine.

"... As long as we do our part in this household we will act as husband and wife. Is not that what you told me?"

"..."

"Now then, I will excuse myself. I have no longer desire to finish my breakfast here." With that, you leave him there.

When you reach the door, opening it, you were surprise to see Everett waiting outside. "What are you doing here?" You asked him. Your frowned face was replaced with a confusion look before giving him a small smile. The man infront of you return your smile with a small grin, placing one of his arm on your waist."W-well, I feel bored and alone in my own room. So I found myself waiting here w-with the butler. Besides I saw you walking wobbly earlier and I-I am concerned that you might have even more difficulty walking... So f-forgive me for not staying put." The look concern on his face adding the pout from his lips made him look cute.

"What are you a puppy?"You poke his nose giggling as you walk away with him, your eyes went back to talk to the butler. Telling him you want to continue your breakfast at your garden, asking him to make it for a two people. The butler bowing to your order before going to the kitchen area to order the maid.

Your husband on the other hand, loath with rage and jealousy mixing under his eyes. His eyes narrowed especially when the slave you brought in leaned on top of your head kissing at the crown part of your head, leaning to your ear to whisper something akin to sweet talks. The arm around your waist went to rub your back.

If only you glance again on Everett's face. You would have caught him giving your husband a smug smirk.

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gorejo · 9 months

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▸ A SOUVENIR FOR THE MORNING - GOJO SATORU. - forbes gojo!au

synopsis: you’ve avoided him for the last eight years, only for him to pop back into your life, leaving you with no room to run away as he asks you to kiss him. catch is, he now has a golden ring on his promise finger.

content: 9.2k words (idk how this happened, and it's unedited bc it's too long to go through) afab!reader, she/her pronouns, cursing, explicit smut, light angst, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, and anxiety triggers (picking at nails), pet names (baby, sweetheart, love, angel, good girl). minors do not interact.

The room is packed with people when you walk in. It was hard to recall some faces from the mirage of dimmed lights making you feel mildly dizzy and it didn’t help how the buzzing in your head from the smell of champagne and the loud chatter from the already drunk almost thirty-year-olds that can’t seem to contain their liquor-like novices, made you want to go home increasingly more.

“It’s only 9:41, and they’re drinking like they’ve never tasted alcohol before,” you heard Shoko mumble as she searched through her purse to reach for her perfume, “you want some?” Your best friend offered with a smile as she looked at you through the bathroom mirror.

“I’m okay,” you smiled back, “can’t have all the boys following me around with that,” you teased.

Shaking her head in disapproval, “If you see me go home with any of these drunks, I give you full permission to hit me, no, in fact, I’ll pull up to your apartment every morning with coffee and take you to work for a week if I do,” Shoko shuddered while furrowing her brows only to quickly soften the moment she saw you lightly picking at your thumb – an anxious habit you’ve picked up throughout the years, only but the keenest of eyes being able to notice your anxiety.

“You okay love?” Her voice was sweet as she leaned against the restroom sink.

“Mhm, of course,” you faked a smile, “I guess I’m just a little nervous seeing everyone, you know,” lightly chuckling as you bit your lips. Little was underlying, when the knot in your stomach was building up, making you force down the urge to entirely vomit in the moment.

“People are thrilled to see you again,” placing her hand on your shoulder, “it’s literally been years for you,” she huffed, pouting as she reminisced over the years she attended alone.

“well ‘m sure one will be sure thrilled —” her voice suddenly drained from a crowd of people entering the restroom, slightly pushing you towards her, “nevermind come on, let’s go get something to drink,” Shoko muttered as she led you out, gently massaging your tense neck as she encouraged, bringing her lips to your ears, “if anyone bites, I’ll chop their dick off,” Shoko threatened with a flashing smile as she led you to a nearby table.

It’s only 9:41 — no, 9:42.

College reunions, who looks forward to that?

There was no particular reason for you to be anxious, it’s been years since. You’ve prepared yourself for this, meditating every single day since you got the notification in your email on a Tuesday evening — an invite to rsvp for a room at the Aman Hotel.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so nerve-wracking if you’ve been consistently going out to these every year since they’ve held one. But every year there seems to be a conflict in the schedule that forbade you to go.

One year it was your boss last-minute asking your team to work overtime, when a rookie employee lost all the data when he supposedly fell asleep, accidentally losing months of all your blood, sweat, and tears to make it for the deadline on your next advertising project.

Poor kid was fired the next day.

The following year, you were determined to go, going as far as walking to the restaurant, when the sudden nausea of socializing plagued your mind. The joyous welcomings and celebrations annoyingly muffled in your ear as you groaned past a familiar voice that seemed to call out your name from a distance. Your feet walking on their own volition through your sleep deprivation. Only to wake up in your bed with countless text messages from your best friend asking what the hell happened.

No wonder it was so fucking loud that night.

Another was simple, not your fault this time. Shoko couldn’t make it because of her rounds at the hospital.

Never in hell were you going to show up alone.

And the last one, well your taxi got a sudden flat tire. That in itself was a confirmation for you not to go, nor did you have any dying wish to go. Quickly texting your best friend, huffing out a sigh of relief as you pressed send.

<< sorry… can’t make it tonight. I promise, next year!!

Today, well things seemed to have aligned. No overtime, no flat tires, no sleep deprivation, no nothing.

Maybe it was an excuse?

Maybe you were subconsciously avoiding it?

But ironic is it, that life seems to protect you when most fragile, only to push you out into the void when least expected making you feel even more vulnerable, feeling so exposed in such a cruel world.

Or maybe the universe was waiting for this moment, that despite your consensus or approval, it was determined that you were ready to confront it — well it, being the owner of a pair of brilliant light blue eyes that sparkled like an aqua jewel, shining brighter than when you’ve last seen them clouded in tears as you let go of his trembling hand for the last time, crushing his pure heart as you left him with, “i’m sorry.”

Was that already eight years ago?

But whether it was the consequence of your selfish choice or a blessing of choosing to be selfless, luck was on your side today…

… well, you hoped at least somewhat on your side.

“My … look who it is,” you heard a voice from behind you.

Turning around, though the shame of suddenly cutting him off enticed your heart as you faced him, you couldn’t help but smile at his familiar face walking over with two drinks in his hand.

Holding the same gentle eye smile, with a lock of his black hair falling down on his left side, donned in a white dress shirt with his sleeves cuffed at the elbows, no tie but buttons loosely opened with a pair of dark slacks and shined dress shoes. Geto Suguru walked over.

“Aren’t you still handsome,” you complimented with a sweet smile.

“Don’t feed into his ego like that,” Shoko chimed as she nudged your arm, “his head is already big enough.”

“Who me?” Exaggerating his response, only to soon level down to the same amiable smile, calm cadence you’ve remembered him to have as he offered you a drink, “I have to take all the compliment I can get, don’t know when you’ll go awol and go missing for another eight years.”

“Funny…” you muttered, rolling your eyes while taking the drink by the stem, “and thank you, Suguru.”

“Where’s mine?” Shoko jabbed while shooting a glare at his nonchalance.

“Not here,” Geto flashed a smile, innocently shrugging.

“Whatever, I’ll get my own,” shaking her head in disapproval, grumbling while making her way to get a drink, but still making a point to stop in front of the man to warn, “Don’t say anything weird Suguru, I barely got her to come today.”

“Relax, ‘m just trying to catch up with an old friend,” Geto countered, making a point to whisper while smiling at you.

“I won't hurt her, that I promise,” Geto affirmed.

Your best friend walked off only to turn around for a brief moment as she worriedly looked back at you “Text me for anything okay?”

“I’ll be fine! Don’t worry,” you reassured.

“And don’t forget what I said, I’ll even cut his,” deadpanning while looking at your male counterpart, “I got no problem doing it, I’m medically certified anyways, there’s nothing that a sharp scalpel can’t fix, ” Shoko stated with an innocent smile while walking off.

“So,” releasing a sigh as he pushed the strains of his hair back, “how’ve you been?” Geto smiled.

“I’ve been… okay,” you confessed while placing your lips against your glass before taking a sip, “could be better.”

“Thought you were living your life,” Geto teased, his voice laced with sarcasm, “Shoko wouldn’t tell us much about you.”

“I… I told her not to,” you confessed while leaning against your table, the pain of your heels starting to ache up your back.

“How come? Weren’t we your friends too?”

“I just didn’t think it was best to keep myself in the circle when I —” biting the inside of your mouth to stuff the suffocating knot forming underneath your lungs.

“ — When you broke up with him?” Geto finished your hesitation.

Nodding yes, you softly whispered, “I thought it was for the best for him.”

“For the best huh?” Geto chuckled, “well I guess you didn’t know him too well then.”

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrowed as your mouth started to feel dry, “I did it because we weren’t compatible, I would’ve been a stumbling block for him,” you stammered as your voice started to shake, “I- I would’ve halted his growth, and he would’ve hated me in the end if I selfishly held onto him when he was worth so much more than being with me,” you confessed with lips quivering as a tear fell, only to quickly brush it away before Suguru could notice.

But nothing passes with him, he reads right through you. His voice softened, “Was this your insecurity you’ve decided for him or — ” turning his body to face you while his body leaned on his arm against the standing table, “Was this something he actually would’ve struggled with?”

“I can’t change the past Suguru.” You shamefully avoided his gaze, “I still stand by my decision.”

“I don’t doubt that,” shrugging as he exhaled, “I mean, you did avoid him for almost a decade.”

“H-he seems happy,” you let your thoughts slip.

“You think so?”

“Shoko would tell me about everyone, you, him” you unnoticingly spewed out your thoughts. “Of course not in full detail, but that you’ve established your own studio, and that you’ve finally released those photos.”

��Mhm, that’s correct, would’ve loved to have invited you to the exhibition, it was quite… a moment,” he chuckled while playing with his fingers.

“That Megumi’s in high school and that he’s gotten in trouble for beating up the school bullies,” lowly laughing as you remembered how cute yet scarily mature he was for his age.

“Nanami hates corporate life, but still listens to what he has to say even if it’s outrageous.” Taking a sip of your drink, the sparkle of the beverage mildly burning your throat, “... and that he’s traveling the world living his life.”

Mumbling under your breath, “he’s even recently gone to Paris and had a night picnic with —”

“You stalked him?” Geto teased as he huffed out a laugh when he caught your shocked expression

“No — I mean, Shoko would tell me,” you stammered.

“Sure, whatever you say, sweetheart," Geto teased, "but just to let you know, he just got back. And from what I know, they haven’t met since he arrived. His plane should’ve landed,” while dramatically looking at his watch, “I don’t know like an hour ago? He’s probably on his way over here,” Geto handsomely winked as he suddenly placed a gentle hold of your waist and brought you near his side.

“You know… he’ll look for you, now knowing that you’re here” Geto whispered into your ear.

“How does he know… I told Shoko to not tell —”

Blinking innocently at you with a smile, while playing with his phone, “can’t avoid the poor guy forever.”

“I’m not avoiding him,” you sighed knowing what Geto had done, “just didn’t have a chance to run into him.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” releasing you with a smile, “ if you’re really sure about where you stand, then don’t run away from him.”

Geto's eyes flash to the entrance doors for a split second and land back on you.

“But would you look at that,” humming as he pointed to his empty glass yet his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure. It was the first in a while that you felt your heart sinking, all the blood in your body rushing out, making you suddenly feel lifeless and queasy.

“Gonna get another glass, you want one?” Suguru suggested.

“I’m okay, but thank you Suguru,” you quickly stated as your heart started to beat faster by the second.

“Sure, just don’t be a stranger again,” Suguru teased as he started to walk off, but your hand immediately reached out to catch his arm to quickly reinforce, “I- I mean it… thank you.”

Knowing your implication, smiling as he received your thanks, “No need, as fucking cringe it is,” chuckling as he shook his head, looking over your shoulder and back at you, “he’s my best friend, of course, I’ll be there for him.”

Letting go of his arm, your hands anxiously balled into a fist as you quickly turned around to avoid him, doing anything to hide from his sight. You felt your breaths becoming increasingly more difficult to inhale, and stagnant as your palms started to sweat.

“I’m not avoiding him… I’m not avoiding him” you quietly mumbled to yourself, your words contradicting your actions as you walked further away onto the balcony, texting Shoko,

<< I’ll be outside getting some fresh air (: let me know when you want to leave.

Closing your phone, as you let the night breeze wash against your face, leaving light chills around your body, you nervously sighed, “It’s been eight years you say…”

—

Your story was nothing short of the typical — difference in class and status, trying to make things work just for the convenience of love. It wasn’t hard at first to situate yourself into his life, nor was it any difficult for him to become accustomed to yours.

They say time will change things, circumstances will get better. Be patient with your season, and you’ll be rewarded for your hardwork.

But somethings never change no matter how hard you try to alter the dice. He’s rich and you’re just average.

Money works for him, while you had to take on multiple jobs just to make your next rent at the start of your career.

He was bound for greatness at a young age, trained by the best professionals and tutored by an exquisite league of mentors. While you had to settle for things, simply dreaming of the what can be. Thus, you worked even harder. You pushed yourself to keep up, to become of the level of who he’s supposed to be, and what he could accomplish.

When he dozed off in class, you stayed up. You studied, pulled all-nighters, chugged caffeine, and oftentimes had to push back dates with him for simple study sessions — he didn’t complain, said he liked to just sleep with his head rested on your lap while he cuddled into your stomach while you studied.

“Don’t mind me, I’ll be your personal radiator,” he would chime with a boyish grin on his face, taking off his sunglasses as he stretched his long legs before latching behind you like a koala, “wake me up when you’re done, I’ll drive you home,” Gojo peacefully murmured without forgetting to place a kiss to your shoulder, while you stressed over your next exam.

With him, even the coldest days always felt warm.

And on the next day, he’ll always take you to class with some soup and hot tea, murmuring about your poor dietary choices and how you often neglect your health to study. But at least he’ll be gentle, and wish you the best on your exam with a light kiss — an innocent kiss that lasts a bit too long, his hand always gracing your body as he reluctantly releases you, brushing off the saliva that linked your lips together — his good luck charm he’ll argue, a little tease of what he’ll reward you with later when you got home for being his good girl.

Gojo will always try to convince, “Life isn’t always about studying, baby,” stating with a pout, after your fifth time canceling a date he’s planned to instead go on a simple walk outside your flat, “you gotta live life to the fullest! And why stress when you’ve snatched me?”

“Well, I can’t live life to the fullest if I don’t study now, Satoru. And who’s gonna pay for all that ice cream you eat? All the sweets you stock up on?”

“What do you mean?” Deadpanning as he stopped in his tracks, “you have me, what more else do you need? I'm a double threat — I’m rich and handsome.”

“Satoru — I… never mind,” rolling your eyes, as you were hit with his puppy eyes.

“Just promise,” his tall frame blocking you, “that you’ll always stick with me.”

“I’m not a piece of gum to just stick onto you, Satoru,” pushing him away, only for him to reach out to delicately hold your hand, “You know, if you’re a gum, you’ll be the sweetest one.”

“Yea, why so?”

“Because every time I eat you, you taste so sweet,” he teased with a flirty wink, “if you get what I — ow!”

Rubbing his forearm that barely hurt, Gojo loved to exaggerate when he was with you.

For Gojo, things came easily for him, as if the universe highlighted his life as a thousand-year blessing, nothing was out of his reach — that is, nothing but you.

Shocking to many, he pursued you first. When asked about how you guys met, or what’s the story behind you two, or even if no soul asked… he’ll blabber on with an outrageous story, saying he fell in love the moment he laid his eyes on you, that you were the apple of his eye — an over the top fanfiction of you and him of how he just knew you were the person for him when you stumbled into the library, arms full of books and coffee in the other, and you magically just happened to just bump into him. And if it wasn’t for that encounter, then he would’ve never gotten your number.

And without your number, he wouldn’t have been able to woo you with his charm, he’ll always add with a wink.

“You can say it’s fate,” he’ll proclaim, “I never went to the library, you know,” as he munched on his icecream with Megumi and Tsumiki savoring theirs, both unbothered by the story he’s told them countless times, “and the one day I chose to follow Suguru because he was simping over someone, I get coffee spilled all over my clothes and meet her? Damn, the heavens just wanted us together.”

All you remember of that day was that your precious coffee went to waste, with your books embarrassingly spread out on the floor, and you were stuck having to dry clean his ridiculously expensive clothes.

But with him, you experienced all your firsts.

Your first handholding — Satoru confidently took your hand, immediately interlocking his fingers with yours, his palms engulfing yours entirely, “don’t be scared baby, I’m not scared,” flexing his muscles as he proudly smiled, “I’ll protect you!” as he leads you through the haunted mansion, jolting through every jump scare, absolutely refusing to scream.

You remember his palms felt particularly clammy that day.

Your first kiss — on a spring picnic as he laid on your lap, his eyes sparkling a little more than usual as he looked up at you, innocently asking, “can I kiss you?”

Your first argument. Ignoring him for a whole week, only for your resolve to quickly break when Suguru urgently called you to his house stating that Satoru was deathly ill — dark circles under his eyes, cheeks frail from not eating, wrapped up in his blanket as he dramatically announced his dying wishes while sneaking obvious glances at you.

Geto’s diagnosis: pure insanity.

To your first cuddle buddy, to innocent make-out sessions, to wonton looks and lustful touches for more. leading to your first sexual experience, both unknowing and inexperienced as he groaned into your ear in the back of his car one rainy night as you struggled to take his girth.

He was your first taste of goodness — like a forbidden fruit, you increasingly wanted him more. In soul, mind, and body, you etched yourself into him, making the tear even more painful to rip apart.

Sure, loving him was easy — but loving you, the version who was so lacking compared to him and insecure was hard.

You tried to ignore it, you did your best to brush off the insecurity that came with each day of choosing him. But having the message that you were worth less than he was being constantly blasted to your face — the blatant discrepancies between social classes and the nature of how you both grew up, to the constant side glances you’ll get wondering how someone so normal like you, got with such a high net worth — gradually, it all made you dissociate from him.

So you worked even harder. You stayed up longer than anyone else just to get that better grade. You worked that extra shift just to prove that you were capable. You doused yourself in knowledge, yet tried to stay humble to be seemingly perfect… but in that, you unknowingly pushed him further away, losing parts of yourself while at it.

And your final straw? It was a text message you accidentally read on his phone while he silently napped, cutely dozing off as you massaged his scalp.

From: Mom.

>> Remember the girl I talked to you about? Nitori-chan’s family requested that we set up a date for you two. The faster the better, no need for our families to meet, it’s all settled.

To: Minako.

<< Let’s meet. When are you free, Minako?

From: Minako.

>> Whenever! I can meet now!

>> Is this about our potential engagement?

To Minako.

<< Yea, let's meet tonight to talk about it.

You remembered, that night you couldn't reach him.

The final trigger that blew it over. The rambling of your thoughts paralyzes you from thinking rationally.

You didn’t need to search up who she was. Nitori Minako, the youngest daughter of Japan’s leading technology company that rivaled to that of America’s fruit. A girl that was a year younger than you — smart, adamantly cute, cunning and rich — always following him around a bit too closely for your liking, preaching about how “Gojo-san promised he’ll marry me when we were young! Isn’t that so cute?”

how long was this going on for?

Has he always been going on secret dates like this? Was he always just willing to let it slide when you rejected his dates because he had other options?

Was he leading you on this whole time before he’ll leave you for what he rightfully deserved?

Was all of this a lie? All of what he said?

The pinnacle of your sanity breaking as your thoughts became corrosive and brittle the more you dove deeper into the pitfalls of your insecurities — of course what people said was right, there was no way someone like him can settle for any less.

... Ultimately, everything led to you quietly blurting out as he rambled about his day.

Playing with your hand, smiling like a loser as he intertwined your smaller fingers with his, “Geez, there was this jeweler that I wanted to take you to, but dammit, the store closed early today. Maybe we can go — ”

“Let’s break up,” you suddenly announced, looking straight ahead.

The room suddenly felt quiet, so quiet that the thumping of your heart felt like loud sirens blaring next to your eardrum, and your body felt numb.

After a few seconds, Satoru stammered, “w-what?”

Sighing as you closed your eyes, “I said, let’s break up, we aren’t — ” you reiterated.

“I heard you the first time,” Gojo hissed, still playing with your fingers but his grip now harsher, “just wanted to make sure you weren’t bullshitting right now.”

“I’m not joking, Satoru,” your voice stripped of any emotion, “we aren’t good for eachother.”

“Says who?” the man challenged.

“It’s something that’s been on my mind,” you responded back while trying to pull back your hand, “l-let go, Satoru, it hurts…”

“Is it because of the text?” Gojo refused to let go, even more so gripping even harder, “Fuck... I'm sorry I should've explained earlier," his voice pleading for you to listen.

"I swear nothing happened, and nothing will ever happen, b-baby look at me,” your boyfriend’s — now, ex-boyfriend's — voice elevating and shaking.

“Gojo,” softly pausing after his name, “let’s end it when things aren’t so bad… I can’t have you hating me more when we have no other choice but to break up,” finally pushing his grip off, “it’s inevitable, we’ve been walking towards a destined finish line from the beginning, let’s just call it quits a little earlier.”

“no... you can't do this, you can't do this to me,” he vulnerably uttered, his body noticeably trembling as a tear dropped onto the back of your hand as he reached over to touch you, hoping it'll mend whatever hatred you had towards him, “you.. we promised,” his voice shaking.

“I’m sorry Gojo,” you dodged his grasp, “guess promises are only good if you can keep them, and I can’t.”

Days of him begging at the forefront of your door, crying as he asked for an explanation, his missed texts and calls that would go straight to voicemail, to Suguru stepping in to ask what the hell was going on… all leading you to cut off every aspect of Gojo Satoru out of your life, except Shoko.

After two years of dating, at the ripe age of 20, you experienced your first heartbreak with Gojo Satoru, marking the end of the final chapter of your love story with him.

To you, he’ll be the greatest warmth you’ll ever experience.

To him, you’ll be the heartless bitch that left him cold.

—-

“Hmm,” looking at your empty notifications, “guess she’s a little busy right now…” you hummed. Despite your outwardly calm demeanor and the stillness of the serene summer night, juxtaposed was your mind with wandering thoughts that wrecked havoc in your head.

Shoko would update you occasionally about him, not going too far into details. You knew he was successful in his craft, excelling in it as he ranked 11th in Forbes 30 under 30 list, losing the tenth spot barely to a Zenin. It would be a lie if you weren’t curious about him, your mind wandering and weak during the quietest of nights, making a burner account to stalk his socials, only to immediately regret the moment you see photos and stories that presumably show that he’s in a relationship — with a gorgeous one in fact.

You’ve briefly heard of his dating history, hearing it from Shoko directly, as it mindlessly slipped through her tongue as she complained that he’s broken up with another girl.

Throughout the years, you’ve concluded maybe this was your punishment for leaving him. Damnation to feel stuck in the same perpetual regret of hurting his heart, of choosing to look at your fears instead of maybe trusting in him.

But, at least he looked happy. and you clung onto that reserve.

Maybe it was for the best that things happened this way —

Your ears perked up as you heard the tapping of shoes coming towards you, your stomach suddenly dropping to the floor.

“Were you planning on avoiding me the whole night?”

You were sure, there was no denying that was his voice.

Yes, it was a bit deeper from when you last heard it. The decibel of his voice is now infused with power and confidence, yet still with the underlying tone of softness from what you remembered.

“Ah, sorry… how rude of me,” you mumbled, the pounding of your heart beating through your ribcage. You quickly placed an arm over your chest, a hand over your heart, doing anything to muffle the harsh pulsing, terrified that he was going to hear, “it’s been a while Gojo,” you offered him a light smile, “I’m sorry, but if you’ll excuse me Ieiri is waiting for me,” you tried excusing yourself only to be met with his stance unchanging, unmoving.

You felt his eyes pierce into your skull, “Gojo?… ah that’s right,” his voice guarded as he looked over in another direction, his face pointing specifically elsewhere, the moonlight highlighting his perfect features.

“I think she’s pretty busy, don’t you think?” he shrugged.

Dammit she was your ride home. Guess coffee is on her for the next week.

“Oh sorry,” you muttered under your breath.

Grinning as he licked his lips, “You’re awfully saying sorry a lot over nothing,” Gojo chuckled, “guess old habits die hard,” his last words spewed with a hint of bitterness as he clenched his jaws.

Only to relax seconds later, placing his drink on the railing, softly grunting as he pulled off his jacket, and placed it over your shoulders, “It’s cold, don’t want you getting sick now,” the smell of his cologne filled up your lungs, hypnotizing your senses — a bit strong but nonetheless intoxicating.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty for feeling a sense of security from the weight of his heated jacket, and in response, you started to immediately pick at your thumbs.

“It’s okay!” You tried to object, trying to take it off only to be met with a stern yet gentleness of his voice, his large hand stopping you, now calloused and thick yet the warmth of his palm brushing against your smaller one felt nostalgic and sinful, as your eyes immediately noticed a gold sparkle on his ring finger, “it’s fine. my body runs hot, remember?”

“T-thank you,” you muttered, the harsh beatings of your heart quickly making your cheeks feel hot.

A ring? you wondered.

“So, what made you come today?” Gojo huffed as he looked off into the distance.

“Had no excuse not to come.”

“I see,” his voice deep, taking the last swig of his drink, deeply inhaling to release a long breath, “It’s good to see you though.”

“Yea, me too,” you quietly responded, the awkwardness of the conversation eating at your bones, the tightness of your stomach knotting increasingly more.

Laughing as he turned around, his long legs crossed, showing a bit of his socks peeking out of his slacks as his dress shoes reflected the moon's shine. Surely, they were expensive, probably equaled to a month of your rent on his feet. With his arms crossing his chest, leaning against the railing, the quiet winds brushing against his soft hair, lightly masking his cerulean eyes as he faced you, “Liar, you were always good at that.”

Taking you off guard, your eyes immediately connecting with his, your breath stopping as if a sudden load was pushed onto your chest, you felt a wave of sadness rush over you as you ventured into his empty eyes.

Since when did he have that ring?

Did he find someone at Paris? Shoko told me — no, there’s no way he found someone so soon.

Or maybe he’s trying to settle down —

“Are you happy?” His question brought you back into reality.

“What?” you whispered.

“I don’t think I’ve asked a hard question,” he responded, his voice now harsh and impatient, “I asked if you were happy.”

Your finger pricks at your thumb, “I guess so…”

Rolling his tongue against his teeth, his finger playing with his ring.

Taking no regard for catering to your comfort, he jeered, “Why’d you do it?”

“What are you talking —” you stammered.

“You know damn well what I’m referring to,” Gojo spat.

“Excuse me,” You muttered, your eyes refusing to disconnect despite your whole body fighting against it.

“I- I got to go, Ieiri is waiting —”

“No, you already used that excuse,” pulling you in by your wrist, immediately caging you in between his arms, with you now leaning against the railing, your eyes level to his broad chest — has he always been this big?

“Answer me, at least you can have the courtesy of honestly telling me why you left me like that eight years ago.”

“I don't remember,” you stated with eyes threatening to spill.

“Liar,” his body leaning down, the hurt in eyes even more apparent than before, “you’re a fucking liar,” Gojo spewed with no resolve to withhold a solid tear from falling, his face now dangerously close — lips even more threatening to touch.

All you wanted to do was say sorry, to cup his face and kiss his tears, to say it was a mistake that you’ve never intended to let him go — you selfishly tortured him by continuously keeping him in your heart without giving him a chance to prove you wrong.

“I’m so sorry,” was all you could respond.

“Did you not trust me?” Hurt was apparent in his voice, “Was I that untrustworthy for you to just leave like that and just disappear for eight years?”

“No, no… it’s not like that,” you tried comforting, unknowingly placing your hands on his chest, “it was never like that.”

"then tell me why," he forced out through gritted teeth while furrowing his brows.

"I just thought it was for the best," you quietly whispered.

"you thought it would be for the best?" Gojo scoffed, "And how the hell did you come to a conclusion to just leave like that?"

" 'm sorry, Gojo... I - I truly am," you pleaded while clenching his shirt.

"You must've really enjoyed watching me beg huh," Gojo challenged, "absolutely thrived knowing this was all for my own good, right?" Gojo spat out his anger.

"It wasn't like that, i'm so sorry, I was hurting —"

“Stop fucking apologizing! you don't get to do that," His voice shattered the serene night. Chest heaving as he clenched onto the stone railing, "I didn’t go through shit these past eight years just to hear your selfish sorry's,” he stated with gritted teeth, as he threateningly moved even closer, “d-did you even love me?”

“Yes, of course!” You immediately cupped his face, finally letting go of the years you craved his touch, your heart shattering as you felt him melt into your wicked hands.

“Then kiss me,” he suddenly whispered, the slight scent of alcohol mixed in with cologne altering your judgment.

“Y-your drunk, Gojo,” you pleaded, immediately letting go of his face as you tried to push him off.

His voice elevated, "Why not?" Gojo growled, "Like you said, it's not like you left because you didn't love me. Or are you lying about that too?"

“don’t make this hard, we — I can’t do this with you anymore,” guilt running through your veins as the image of his ring blared loudly in your head.

You couldn’t do this to another girl, he wasn’t yours anymore…

“stop the bullshit,” Gojo growled before his lips slammed into yours, his large hands cupping your face, leaving you no room to run away. his tongue forced its way into your mouth, teeth painfully clashing yet you didn’t mind. because against your resolve, your arms immediately wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to taste the sweetness of his saliva and feel the warmth of his tongue.

The groan of his voice vibrated against your lips, as his clothed hip bucked into your pelvis, his lips trailing down from yours to your neck, tongue sloppily trailing down with it as his hands wandered down to hold your hips.

“Tell me you missed me,” he moaned out as you gripped the ends of his hair, his tongue teasing down your sweet spots, pecking kisses as he inhaled your scent.

“Say you loved me, I don't care anymore if it’s a lie,” your ex now pleaded, his hot breath heating your cheeks.

“… I love you,” you confessed.

Lowly laughing like a maniac, staring deep into your wanting eyes, the man whispered back, “aren't you fucking heartless.”

...

You don’t recall how you made it into the hotel room. In a moment your lips crashed with his on the balcony, and only a second later you found yourself with his large hand securely wrapped around yours, silently waiting for the elevator to bing on the twentieth floor as your ex-boyfriend led you into his hotel room.

Now, currently, you’re pressed against the wall, shoes thrown aside groaning with your hands tangled in his soft hair, as he hurriedly stripped you out of your dress, lips hungrily moving against each other as he growled into the kiss.

Though its been years, his touch never faltered from remembering your body — immediately tracing over your sweet spots that he’s located in your early twenties, now with more experience and strength he dove deeper in.

“Fuck, missed these beauties,” he groaned as he cupped your breasts, his thumb playing with your hardened nipples as he quickly released the back strap of your bra, promptly latching his lips onto your swollen ones again right before you released a moan.

Your body had a mind of its own. Fallen into sin, your hands unbuttoned his shirt, quickly revealing his toned, muscular build as your hands ran against his pecs. You felt his stomach flex as you started to unbuckle his belt and zip down his pants, his lips hungrily chasing after yours as he caressed your body, hands slipping down further into your inner thigh, his index starting to play with your swollen clit — his fingers have always been so pretty, especially with his ring

“G-gojo stop!” Your eyes immediately shoot open.

“What,” annoyed, the man hissed, looking into your eyes with his pupils dilated, hair absolutely disheveled, until moments later his lips are impatiently back onto yours again.

“We.. we can’t,” you cried out as you melted in his touch, “y-your ring,” you gasped out, suffocating as he stripped you of oxygen.

“Ring?” he stopped for a brief moment, chuckling as he brought up his finger, “you worried about this?” he teased.

Intoxicated in his touch, you were willing to throw away your pride and dignity just for one night — one night can’t hurt, right? So you take the ounce of courage you had left, placing a tender kiss on his lips as a sign of surrender as you gently cupped his face, “take off your ring,” you whispered as you guilty looked away.

Chasing after your kiss, pushing you further into the room as you yelped at his force, your arms entangled around his neck and fingers around his hair as you tried to stabilize yourself, “I promise you it’s nothing, sweetheart,” he coaxed with his sharp canines flashing through his wickedly handsome smile.

And running his lips against your chest, leaving small denture marks on your skin that forced moans out of you, with his pants now pooled at his ankles before shimming them off, his cock fully erect, unapologetically twitching in his briefs.

“For you, I guess,” Gojo hummed as he watched the thin line of spit that connected you both dissipate away, existing as a sign of proof of the situationship he currently had with you.

Taking his ring off, he set it down near the bedside table, "there it's gone."

At least for this night, he was yours.

You’ll repent for your sins, and receive any punishment the gods had to give you tomorrow, but today, you chose him.

And right now, you also chose to kneel in between his thighs, hooking your finger under his waistband to pull his briefs off. Satoru immediately lifted his hips to help you while releasing a sultry groan as he felt the cold air elope his sensitive tip.

Was he always this thick? You remembered his cock being pretty, but also what the fuck were those two veins running down his shaft? And was he always this… groomed?

“Are you just gonna stare at it… or do I need to use your mouth to get some action?” Satoru impatiently asked with his cock twitching, his finger brushing against your heated cheeks as he palmed his member.

“It’s just been awhile,” you murmured, licking your lips before you opened your mouth to have him enter.

“Fuck, " Satoru shuddered as the base of your tongue brushed against his frenulum.

"i must be dreaming,” Gojo murmured under his breath, your head rising up as you released his cock with pop! With your hot tongue swirling against his head, there was no chance for Satoru to stay strong. and you enjoyed every second of seeing him slowly unravel in your power.

“j-just like that,” he ordered while placing his hand on top of your head, guiding your momentum.

His precum tasted salty but pleasant. Hell, he wasn’t even close to the other men you’ve been with, incomparable starting with the size of their dicks to his.

Hallowing your cheeks and expanding your throat to take in his shaft, with your hands gently playing with his balls, you felt his cock hit the back of your throat the moment you saw his head fling backwards, gasping as he pushed down his spit down his dry throat.

“You like that?” Gojo hissed as he bucked his hips into your warm crevice, “you missed my cock, angel?”

You honestly agreed, tears staining your vision with his length stuffed into your orifice, only to get a spiteful laugh in return, “well, guess that makes two of us,” he huffed while crowning over your body, pushing himself deeper into you, his stomach hitching as he groaned out your name.

“Fuck this shit,” he moaned, as he urgently pulled himself out of your mouth, sacrificing his impeding release for abstinence.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he gasped when your thumbs swirled around his pulsing head, “you always do,” he purred as he nibbled on your lower lip, promptly pulling you onto his lap, one hand straddling your waist while the other mounded your ass.

And looking up at you, with his blue eyes now darkened in full blown lust, his hot breath sending chills down your spine, “tell me what you want? I’ll give you anything.”

“Y-you,” you shamefully confessed, gasping as his cock grazed against your sensitive folds, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you started to grind against his length, “I want you inside me again, Satoru” you whispered into his ear, lightly moaning out his name.

“Shit,” Satoru croaked, pulling himself down as he gently released you to lay on the bed, “I dont have a condom,” he confessed as he gently kissed your cheeks, “ you gonna be okay without it?” he asked.

“Mhm, j-just hurry… please,” you murmured.

“Good girl, now come here,” he coaxed as he placed a soft pillow under your head.

Taking a brief moment to observe your face, reading any sign of forced emotion that you might try to hide, only to ease himself into the kiss when he feels you impatiently desiring his touch, “relax, baby,” he cooed as his kisses traveled southward.

Placing each delicate kiss on your body as his soft hair trailed behind, lightly tickling you as your thighs gently caged his waists into you, “you know they wanted me to thank you,” Gojo breathed out as he split your thighs open, settling himself in between your legs.

“W-who?” you whimpered as his calloused hands massaged your muscles, his soft lips easing out the tension boiling in your core while your hands immediately went straight to grip his hair.

Lips drawing closer, closer and closer until his breath knocked against the frame of your dripping cunt.

“God you’re so fucking wet,” blowing air onto your sensitive nerves, looking up to watch your body shiver at his power as he slid his finger down your folds, pushing in one finger, two, and eventually three into your tight hole as he watched you stretch, your viscous juice soon dripping down his forearm.

“They wanted me to thank you for how good I eat pussy now,” Gojo smirked before he took a swipe of his tongue against your womanhood, spreading out your cunt as he purposefully flicked his tongue against your clit, lightly sucking on the bud thereafter.

…

How many times as it been, you wondered? More than once or twice, maybe four… five — you moaned out when you felt your legs hitching up to his shoulders, his cock hitting just at the right spots he remembered from years ago.

“Angel,” Gojo huffed as sweat dripped down his temple, grunting as he felt your tight walls fluttering against his length at the call of his sweet pet name, “you have that much leisure to be thinking about something else when I’m fucking you?”

Kissing your ankles, his pelvis showing you no mercy as his wet skin slapped against your ass, the sound and sultry smell of hot sex filtrating your room, “still so fucking tight,” Satoru grunted as he pushed his body onto you, your legs hooking against his shoulders, his strong arms holding you from under.

“G-gojo!” you rasped out, barely audible and inable to breathe from his heavy weight and humidity of the room, “it’s too deep! Slow down!”

Growling into your ear, his teeth nibbling against your earlobe, his hot breath stinging your face as he scoffed at your choice to call him so mundanely.

“you gonna be so impersonable,” his thrust going deeper, harder into you, “when I’m so deepily inside you?”

“Ngh,” gasping, “it’s too much,” you sobbed with his face planted into your neck, and his ass clenching with every push he drove into your gushy walls that still wrapped so perfectly around his — just like how he’s last felt you around him, just like how he’s molded your insides just for himself.

“You let anyone else fuck you?” He suddenly hissed, panting as he tried to catch his breath, the sweat on his back making it difficult for you to hold onto him, “you let anyone else see this side of you?”

“It’s too much —” you pleaded, avoiding his question.

“Answer me,” he lowly ordered.

Unable to withstand his power, absolutely willing to fold for him and his desires, you fastidiously nodded, “only a couple,” you shyly confessed.

"how many," he growled, disappointed in your answer, "how many fucked this."

"o-one or two, ngh I-I don't remember," you panted.

“One or two, you say,” he cooed as he pulsed his cock swiftly into you in rhythmic motions, satisfied seeing his length disappear inside you. his pace driving you to the brink of insanity as your lower belly started to fire up again as he knowingly pressed his palm down on your stomach.

“Then I gotta fuck you twice more to force out all memory you have of those stupid fucks,” grunting as he cupped your face to look at him, lips swollen with his skin marked by your nails, hips unapologetically thrusting into you as he watched you unravel in his lead, “because this pussy’s always been mine.”

Seven.

He’s definitely made you cum seven times. you remembered the count just before he groaned out your name, his thrusts sloppy and strained, gasping as he pulled you tighter into his embrace, face caved into your neck as he finally released his thick loads into your abused walls, sobbing out cursed moans as you held him, expending out every last ounce of energy you had for him in mere four words,

“I’ve always loved you,” you whispered before completely passing out.

You failed to notice a tear fall from his eyes drop to your face. He hoped that it’ll stain you, wished it would reach all the way through to your heart to burn you. But he couldn't, so instead he carefully wiped it away as he gently kissed your face — inch by inch of your canvas before he chose to face you again.

“you’re so heartless,” Gojo chuckled as he pulled you in for a tight hug, straight into his chest as he laid beside you, refusing to pull out and have his cum spill onto the sheets — a feat he’s never dared to do with anyone else, he’s always fucked protected.

“what am I going to do with you," he breathed out.

"even with all this time, I’m still so weak for you,” he quietly confessed, reaching over to the side, reaching for his ring to put on the empty finger, before he too fell into the abyss of another dimension with you in his arms.

—-

Lowly groaning as you opened your eyes, your body felt oddly heavy and aching, but yet warm and safe despite feeling on the absolutely verge of possibly snapping in half and breaking with any force.

Blinking a couple times before you started to register the room, you felt a slight huff next to your ear and the tightening around your waist as your back leaned against something hard.

Gojo Satoru, in all of his glory, was sleeping so soundly next you.

Carefully turning around to face him, you observed his features as you ran your fingers against his skin.

His lashes were still so long and soft, you giggled when Gojo twitched his nose at your touch.

His cheeks were still so smooth, without a spec of a blemish, but you can see the little bags under his eyes and the small creases on his skin. he’s probably tired from traveling.

Your finger travels down to his chiseled jaw, and defined collar bones, examining the light scratch marks on his pale skin, and the bruising of his nipple — wait… his lips are chapped and swollen, and his cock… oh god, his cock was brushing against your stomach — hard and pulsing.

Immediately gasping, you felt the blood in your body drain at the revelation that you’ve fucked your ex — no, you fucked your ex of eight years, that you were still crazily hung up over that most likely had a girlfriend waiting for him to respond back to.

Before you could think, your adrenaline pressed forward to act before your mind, immediately unlocking his hands from your naked waists, standing up too quickly only to stumble from your trembling legs. You felt something drip down your thighs — white viscous slowly running down your legs, your face heating up at the memory of last night.

“I- I need to leave,” you whispered, quickly gathering your discarded clothes and undergarments as you rushed to the restroom, forcing down your whimpers as your sensitive cunt brushed against your thighs with every step you took.

“I can’t be here, t-this was a mistake,” you stammered while putting on your dress, quickly stuffing your used panties into your purse.

You looked like a mess, but it didn’t matter because you needed to get the hell out of there before he woke up, but somehow your feet didn’t move in the direction you wanted them to — out the door — but instead towards him unknowingly sleeping.

And quietly sitting against the edge of the bed, carefully pushing away the edges of his bangs that covered his handsome face, you decided to take a minute to absorb the last images of what you’ll have of him. And there you decided to let a tear or two drop from your eyes as you said your last goodbyes, gently kissing his lips before you made your way out the door, whispering, once again,

“I’m sorry…”

—-

It’s been close to an hour since your walk of shame out the door. Since then you quickly checked out of your room and made your way out of the hotel.

You immediately called for a taxi to get home, groaning as you were hit with the realities of your mistakes last night.

Treading up the stairs your legs quivered with every move. It's been a while since you've been fucked that hard, nor even had a partner that lasted so long.

You needed to text Shoko, you prayed that she didn’t blow through your notifications when you suddenly went missing last night. Sighing, you absentmindedly tried to find your phone in your bag as you punched in your door keys.

You started to think, maybe the whole fucking universe was now against you, for your sins, because your phone wasn’t in your purse.

You tried to retrace your steps to where you’d last used it as you made yourself over to your bed, stripping off your clothes as you walked over to the shower.

And to your last memory, you texted Ieiri out in the balcony… and then,

“Shit,” you hissed, remembering how your bag was tossed to the side when you were being feverishly stripped of your clothes, “it’s probably under his bed or something.”

“I hope no one calls… or tries to contact me until he leaves his room,” you groaned as the hot water massaged your tense shoulders while your fingers ran down your body.

Washing every crevice as you also tried to erase away the memory you had with him, you forced yourself to retract your tears. This was your punishment you repeated, this was the outcome of your selfishness. You lathered yourself in soap, trying to scrub away the pent-up guilt until you noticed something flash under the light.

You never wore your jewelry into the shower, you’ve always had a habit to take them off to not tarnish.

But there was a golden ring, a ring that fits a little loosely on your promise finger.

Unable to understand why, all that circled through your mind was to go back.

Quickly washing off, throwing on any pair of clothes before running to your door, you could feel your anxious heart beating loudly in your chest as your ears started to feel plugged from the tension. And just when you’re about to open your door, you hear a buzz that silenced every chaos around you.

Looking through the peep hole, you felt faint, your heart entirely about to burst — is this reality or am i still dreaming?

“It’s me,” you heard his calm voice.

Your hands trembled as you slowly opened up the door, your eyes taking a moment to quickly scan his body — donning the same clothes as yesterday with the top buttons of his white shirt undone and ends stuffed into his slacks, his hair lightly messy and eyes a little sunken.

“How’d you get here?” you gasped with your ringed hand clenched, hidden behind your back, while the other pricked at your thumb.

“You left your phone in my room, and I found it because Ieiri was blowing up your phone," Satoru calmly stated as he handed over your phone, "so I asked where you lived to drop it off.”

“She didn’t say anything?” you warily asked

“Well, she did ask about us."

“And… did she threaten you or anything?”

“No, why would she? But,” stretching out his arms as he released groan, “I told her we fucked,” he boyishly smiled.

Afraid to confront your messy rendezvous with him, you nervously bit your lips, and you avoided his gaze. Noticing your tendencies, you felt his hand cup your face to meet his while his thumb gently soothed your aching lip, "hey," he whispered, "don't do that."

And stepping closer to you, the mild fragrance of his shampoo dancing in your nostrils, “Did you see it?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you acknowledged, “I saw it just now while showering,” you looked into his eyes to seek an answer, tears starting to cloud your vision.

“You know, I’m not the same anymore,” he confessed, “I have power, I’m strong, and I’m able to do things now,” pressing a kiss onto your forehead, “but the only thing that stayed the same about me," chuckling as he shook his head — as if he couldn't even believe it himself.

"is that I didn’t change my number since we’ve broken up,” he stated before taking a step into your apartment, the click of his shoes hitting the tile floor echoing throughout the hallway, “I just hoped maybe one day you’ll call.”

"why?" you honestly questioned, unable to understand why he would choose to do that.

"I don't know," Satoru shrugged while pulling away, "guess I really tried to subconsciously manifest the we were fated to be bullshit that I preached."

“But that girl,” you quietly muttered while you unknowingly pouted when you saw his arms cross against his chest, the tightness of his sleeves about to burst from his muscles bulging.

“Girl… what girl?” Your comment took him aback.

“The one you were in Paris with,” your face feeling hot, embarrassed that you outed yourself for stalking him.

“You stalking me?” He chuckled while leaning against the wall, "it's not what you think," Gojo sighed as he pushed back his hair, "that girl, it was Suguru.”

Raising an eyebrow as he examined your expression, sighing as he saw the unbelief in your eyes, “Here look,” he commented while pulling out his phone to show you pictures, “we went for his art exhibition or some shit because his girl couldn’t make it with him.”

“B-but you came late to the reunion.”

“Yea, because I wasn't going to pull up looking mid when I needed to make you regret ever dumping me,” he joked while pinching your cheeks, "I didn't have plans on attending until that jerk sent me a photo of you," he shamelessly confessed.

“You’re stupid,” you grasped his hand to check his finger — ringless.

“But it was worth it, no? Got you to indirectly confess,” emphasizing his last few words, “that maybe you still love me."

"Whatever," you mumbled, "I said I loved you."

"fine by me," Satoru accepted, " but the fact is that you still think I’m hot, no? Or maybe you just missed my cock? ”

“You’re crazy,” you stated while wiping your tears.

“Yea, I know,” his gaze softens as he sees you playing with his fingers, your small ones wrapped around his.

“and this ring is too big for me,” you cried as you melted in his touch, his right thumb gently rubbing against your cheeks.

“That too, I know,” he smiled stepping closer into your house, and slowly closing the door behind him, “we’ll get another one together soon, only if you'll let me.”

"I'd like that," you whispered.

“I just couldn’t get it for us when you heartlessly broke up with me eight years ago," Satoru confessed while brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

“I’m so sorry Satoru,” you snuggled your face into his strong chest, his arms tightly wrapped around you, cooing as he steadied your breaths, “Shhh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

“I’ve hurt you, I’m the one that caused all this,” you heaved as he pressed light kisses all over your face.

“Through everything,” kissing your swollen eyes, taking his time to savor your touch as his lips traveled their way back to its home, briefly kissing your ringed finger as he looked into your eyes.

And sealing his final destination, he whispered before locking his lips with yours once more,

“I’ll always find you even if you run away because you’ll always be mine.”

author's comment: sheesh, I didn't expect this to get this long... but here it is! I wanted to write the typical exes-to-lovers trope, but I was stuck on the quote with Satoru teasing how his past partners wanted to thank the reader for teaching him how to eat pussy... and here we are over 9k words later.... oh wells

again, i hope you enjoyed it!!

p.s. i might just have one exes to lovers in the drafts for geto, as well.... hahahahaha but you didn't hear that from me, nope (,:

#ae.writes #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #darkmode.#forbes30!gojo

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jvzebel-x · 1 year

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🦋

#hmmmm.#so i know that like. i come across-- pretty purposefully i knowww lmao-- as someone who Hates doctors #(&like. perhaps medical personnel in general lmao.)#i will give that this is a fair assessment based on my semi-regular bitching. lmao.#but also like i deal w medical personnel&aspiring medical personnel like. a lot lmao.#the actual amount of these ppl i deal w vs the percentage that i go ballistic over makes it a nonissue as far as im concerned lmao.#(actually quite reminiscent of when ppl accuse me of hating yt ppl just bc i complain about them specifically as if i dont live in portland #where the percentage of these ppl i deal w is damn near 100%&would be if i didnt purposefully go out of my way to change that lmao.#it is not my fault that i deal w specific things that can be chalked up to specific categorizations&am willing to note why that is lmao.)#anyway so i had to work around a new oncologist for a variety of reasons lmao&the new doc i have also specializes in #disordered eating which i guess makes sense as a gastric&intestinal focused oncologist&we had the most fascinating preintake convo.#lately my gastroparesis has been like. absurdly bad lmao. its always been a problem but the last couple months ive been dropping weight #again like crazy bc my food isnt getting digested-- just thrown back up after a few hours bc human bodies arent meant to ferment shit lmao.#the meds i started taking a bit ago for it have been helping but not enough to help me gain any weight back-- im back to being #solidly under a 100lbs lmao&its been wreaking havok all over like. everything. lmao.#something something this is likely due in part to the Bad mania lmao. but seeing as im probably stuck w my fucked up head #regardless of the nature or nurture of it all as w most of this shit it doesnt really matter i just need to find a way to fix it lmao.#so anyway we were talking about the mental issues that are starting to surface-- bc if i throw fucking everything up i dont want to eat #(which is i guess the mirror version of what my problem was for YEARS before my diagnosis when i would eat whatever the fuck i wanted #bc it all caused me pain no matter what so if its a choice between a salad&beef jerky+coke+ice cream its literally a no brainer lmao.)#(... i actually won more than one ice cream eating contest back when it was still a thing i could do back home lmao.)#but anyway part of my thing right now is also like. im having a difficult time wanting to eat bc theres the obvious fact that cooking #for myself feels like a huge waste of time&energy if im just going to puke it all back up&be in pain again anyway.#&the other part of my thing right now is that i fucking hate wasting the amount of food im wasting doing this shit.#both these problems are like. life long problems that any permadisabled poor person will def recognize lmao #but lately its been SO BAD. the holy trinity of wasted time+money+food has literally just been too fucking much lmao.#&the doc thus far is really receptive to the practical problems like this as well as the more specific to me+nuanced problems #which is just. so incredibly relieving. at least for right now lmao.

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ivysangel · 3 months

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surprise post bc my blogs fixed woo hoo!! i initially sent this as an ask to @hanasnx as my contribution to his baby daddy!jason au, but i also wanted to share it here for u guys as a little treat :p

Baby Daddy!Jason, who you co-parent with, in a very civilized way. No joke, the picture of camaraderie between exes. He takes your daughter on the days he's supposed to (which isn't that often, given his occupation) and brings her back on time, always with a little gift for you as well. Flowers, chocolates, a little knick-knack reminiscent of when you were together. It's not because he's in love with you or anything; it's just the principle of the matter. "Happy wife, happy life," not that you were married or even dating, but he figures the mother of his child should get love sometimes.

Baby Daddy!Jason, who, the next time he sees you, it's to drop off something your daughter forgot with him, and as he's handing you the bag, he casually asks why you haven't been asking him to take her more often. You had been for a while when you were going on dates weekly, but for some reason, the relationships never went anywhere, so you just gave up. "Oh, you know, it just wasn't working out." you say off-handedly, "Kept getting ghosted." you sound only marginally disappointed, moreso annoyed. "What a shame, they're really missing out," he says, getting real close to you and taking up your entire field of vision.

Baby Daddy!Jason, who's got your entire calendar memorized and knows that his daughter's not home tonight and that you've got no plans other than watching movies in solitude. He knows you're too stubborn to call him over for company even though you've been giving him fuck me eyes in passing for the past few months, so he figures he just has to take matters into his own hands and corner you until you give in like he knows you want to.

Baby Daddy!Jason, who fucks you on damn near every surface in the house, telling you he's just christening the place like he would've already done if you lived together. Whispers apologies in your ears about scaring off all of your dates while he's splitting you open, bullying his cock into you while your eyes roll to the back of your head because you haven't been fucked this good in years, not since the last time you'd been with him. You're face is deep in some pillows when you realize the memories you had of his dick pale in comparison to the real thing, and you aren't sure you could go back to using your imagination to get off after tonight.

Baby Daddy!Jason, who keeps you up all night until your pussy's red and puffy from how many times it'd come in contact with his hips while he was fucking you. Fat tip kissing your cervix until you were clawing at his biceps, begging him to give you some reprieve, tears in your eyes while you babbled incoherently, too lost in the feeling of him to make any sense. He admits in the midst of sex that he tried to get over you; he really did, but he just couldn't; he just couldn't picture you with another man in any capacity. The thought of someone else touching you, fucking you, loving you, made his stomach turn, filling him with rage and an overwhelming need to claim you as his.

Baby Daddy!Jason, who's a level-headed, non-fragile ego'd man until it comes to his family, which, contrary to what some would say, did not only consist of his daughter but you too, and any guy who tried to get with you was a threat. he didn't know the intentions of other men, but he knew his own, which was to keep his little family happy as long as he was alive. If that meant putting a gun to the head of anyone who made a move on you and consoling you by stretching you out the way he knew you liked until you just said "fuck it" and let him put another baby in you, then so be it.

#jason todd lover #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd smut #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood smut #red hood imagine

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strawbeerossi · 5 months

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Stuffing Stockings

Pairing: Wife!Reader x Husband!Spencer

Description: Spencer and you have been married for ten years with a beautiful six year old daughter. Whenever she gives you her Christmas list, you notice something new on the list and bring it up to your husband.

Content/Warnings: Dad!Spencer, discussions of expanding family, interest in being pregnant/wanting another baby, breeding kink, oral sex (f rec), penetrative sex, mention of failed test and disappointment, happy ending.

Word Count: 3.5K

Merry Christmas, my sweeties! Santa T is giving you a present because of how much I love you all!

“Mama, I have my Christmas list ready!” Matilda announced, a bright smile on her face revealing the front tooth that the tooth fairy had recently come to take. She was a spitting image of Spencer, beautiful honey colored irises and soft brunette curls that framed her face, not to mention her intellect and her determination that no doubt her father had an influence on.

“Your Christmas list? You’re early,” You smiled fondly as you looked over at the flower filled calendar on the wall closest to the stove, your coffee cup held comfortably between your hands. “Let me hear it, come on!” You urge on, an excited grin on your face.

You always loved Christmas, however having Matilda just made the holidays so much better. Nothing compared to seeing her excitement whenever you’d place wrapped gifts under your Christmas tree, or when you’d ask her to help you make Christmas treats that her and Spencer would end up eating just days after they were made.

You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Well. I would like an American Girl doll, Rebecca Rubin to be exact.” Not a surprise. She loved dolls, her father spoiling her with any accessory or set she asked for. “And then I would like some light up sneakers, please. Sam has some at school and I think they are so cool!” She continued. The rest of the things she lifted were usual for a little girl. Until she got to the last thing on that list.

“And then I want a little brother or sister.” She concluded, a wide grin on your face. The mere suggestion had you nearly choking on the mouthful of coffee, your eyes widening some. “Uncle Luke and aunt Penny said that I have to write it in my list so it happens!”

Penelope and Luke. Classic.

“A baby brother or sister?” You repeated, watching those beautiful curls bounce as the kindergartner nodded her head. “You do know that they won’t be here in time for Christmas if that happens, right?” You asked, wanting to break it gently to her that even if she got what she wanted, it would be well past Christmas before she got a sibling.

“Oh. I know. Babies grow in mommy’s bellies for nine whole months. Which seems like a long time but I think it’ll go by fast! Oh please, mama?! A baby would be cute and cuddly, even whenever they are cranky!”

The begging was tugging at your heart. She really wanted this, didn’t she? You and Spencer were financially stable enough for you to stay home while he worked with the BAU, not to mention that you both could definitely handle Matilda and a new baby. “You know I have to talk to daddy about this before we make a decision.”

After that, the idea of another baby was stuck in your mind. Your first pregnancy was rough, however you still really did enjoy the process of growing a future scholar who would change the world. Just thinking about it had you reminiscing, especially when it came to being pregnant. You could remember every appointment, the announcement to your friends and families, all the excitement that you and Spencer felt with every heartbeat and every little kick.

Your husband had gotten home relatively early on a Saturday evening after a long case in Tampa, Florida. He was toeing his shoes off by the front door in an effort to surprise you and Matilda, the two of you unaware he was even coming home today. You were in the kitchen making dinner while your shared daughter was at the table, happily coloring in her new coloring book.

It was a blissful sight, the domesticity of it all bringing normalcy to Spencer’s busy and sometimes abnormal feeling life. “You two look peaceful,” He decided to speak up, Matilda quickly turning in her chair to look at her father. With a wide smile and teary eyes, she was quickly leaping from the chair to run into your husband’s expecting arms. “Hi!” He chuckled fondly while kissing her cheek sweetly.

“I missed you!” She whined out, keeping a tight hold on her father. “I thought you weren’t gonna home until after Christmas!” She added on, making Spencer’s heart drop. He loved his job but he hated being away for what could’ve been weeks at a time. That was the hardest part.

“Hey, I’m home now and I’m gonna be here for Christmas. I promise. In fact,” He was picking up Matilda while resting her on his hip. “I need to see your Christmas list!” He grinned while bouncing his daughter. “Mama, where’s the list?” Spencer then asked as he turned his attention to you.

“Oh, mama needs to talk to you about that!” The six year old in his arms perked up, making Spencer look at you with an amused, yet questionable look.

“Talk to me? About what? Don’t tell me that Tilly wants to get a car or something already.” Spencer teased. A car might’ve been easier convincing depending on how he felt about expanding the family.

“Not exactly a car,” You laughed a bit while grabbing the list that had been neatly folded and stuck to the fridge with a magnet. “She wants a new American girl doll, a new accessory set to go with said doll, light up sneakers, a dollhouse,” You paused while reading over the last item. “And a baby brother or sister.”

Spencer felt like the items on the list were easy enough. A doll, some accessories, a dollhouse and sneakers. He could knock that out with just one shopping trip. However whenever he heard the last item, his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “A new brother or sister, huh?” He asked slowly, glancing at the little girl who smiled widely.

“I know the baby won’t be here for Christmas, daddy.” Matilda just knew by the look in his eyes that he didn’t wanna break the news she’d have to wait for that. Her reassurance had him taking in a breath of relief though. That little girl was too smart for her own good.

“Well. That’s a big decision. You think you’re ready to be a big sister? Cause babies are a lot of work.” Spencer asked, a smile on his face at her sheer excitement he was entertaining the idea. “They cry a lot. Plus, they always need a lot of attention. That’ll mean that sometimes mama and daddy will be busy with the baby.” He said softly while rubbing her back.

“I know and it’s okay! Babies need more help because they can’t really eat on their own or go potty in the bathroom, so that’s why you and mommy will need to pay extra attention sometimes. But babies are small and cute! And they always want cuddles!” Now that sounded like something Penelope Garcia would say of course she’d gotten to Matilda about the idea. She was just saying at the office that she was wanting another baby around.

You offered a smile. “Well, it sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into it, Tilly! You know that me and dad have to talk about it though, as grownups.” You added, although judging by your husband’s wide smile and the twinkle in his eye, he was already sold on the entire Christmas list. Well, maybe this was easier to convince than a new car.

After dinner and baths were in order, it wasn’t long before you and Spencer were tucking Matilda into bed for the night. Gently closing the door behind you both, Spencer finally turned his attention to you. “A new baby. Wow..” He brought up the idea immediately, his arms gently wrapping around your waist. “How do you feel about the idea?”

You smiled, body leaning back against his as you let out a soft hum of content. “Well, at first I was wary. Then the more I thought about it.. The more I really wanted it.” You said softly, head tilting up to face him more. “I mean, I think we’ve got this parenting thing down. Plus, I miss being pregnant and having a baby around. I feel like it’s going to be a positive change for us. Parents of two.”

That was all Spencer needed to hear to have him sold completely. “I agree. We are pretty good at this.” He chuckled a bit while moving to press a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s always fun trying too, huh? Maybe All our practicing will pay off.” He teased, making you laugh as you were playfully hitting his arm. “Hey! I’m just saying what we are both thinking!” He laughed in return.

The both of you had retired to your bedroom for the night, gently closing the door behind you both. “It’s so good to have you home. I’ve missed you.” You sighed, offering a smile as you were heading over to sit on the edge of your shared bed. “It’s just not the same without you home but I know you have to save the world.” You smiled fondly, watching as your husband was shedding from his clothes.

“I know, honey. I miss being home with you and Tilly more than anything when I have to be gone.” Spencer expressed his own feelings before heading over to you, kneeling in front of you with a soft smile. “But I’m glad to be home now,” He began, pressing kisses to your legs while getting settled between them. His hands were working on the button of your shorts before tugging them down your legs. “Besides, I’m gonna be here for the holidays and I even took the time off to make sure of it.” He hummed, his kisses moving to your inner thighs.

“Working on the list early, I see.” You teased, brushing the mop of brunette curls from your husband’s face as he was playfully nipping on your plush inner thigh, lifting his head.

“Guilty. I feel like this is the most expensive present Tilly is getting.” He teased, the both of you sharing a little giggle before he was going right back to where he started.

Those kisses ended with your hips being tugged close to the end of the bed, his tongue lapping over your clothed clit. “God, I’ve missed you.” He murmured, hands working to tug your panties down your legs. Spencer was absolutely pleased with the sight of your glistening pussy, mouth salivating at the sight. It had been far too long for his liking.

“Pretty girl. You look like you’ve missed me too.” He purred, tongue moving to flick over your throbbing bud, only chuckling as you were already clutching his hair. He didn’t make an effort to tease you long, tongue already delving into the warmth of your cunt as he was so focused on drinking every ounce of your essence, taking whatever you had to give him.

“Spencer, fuck.” You squeaked, legs practically locking around his head to keep him in place as he was too drunk on lapping and sucking at your desperate pussy. The thought of a new baby excited him in more ways than one.

There was the calm and innocent way that just had him thrilled to have a new baby and expand your beautiful family. Then there was the dirty and not so innocent side of him that knew there would be a lot of nights where he was stuffing your pussy just in an effort to get that positive test. Just the thought of his cum dripping down your trembling thighs was enough to have him hard as a rock, his cock begging for attention while he was so focused on giving you all of his.

While his tongue feverishly lapped at your wetness, his hands were gripping your hips just a little tighter. Truth be told, Spencer could get off merely from cunnilingus alone. He fed off of your pleasure, the way you would shove his head more into your weeping cunt for more was enough to make his cock twitch in his boxers right now.

Although even through all the excitement, he was soon pulling away from your pussy much to both of your dissatisfaction. “I feel like I’m gonna cum in my boxers and I’m not wasting what I could be giving you,” He added on, breathing labored as he was quickly getting up to shed his boxers while you were quick to do away with your clothes on your torso, shirt and bra thrown somewhere out of sight and out of mind.

With one hand tugging at his cock, the other was quickly helping you scoot back on your bed, knowing you’d end up flying off if he dared pull you even just an inch closer from your current spot.

“Comfortable?” He asked, watching you simply grab his arm to pull him on top of you. You didn’t even mind the feeling of his body crushing you for a split second, you knew that you needed him, now. Spencer was adjusting himself into a more comfortable position on top of you, his hand sliding between your thighs. He collected some of your arousal on his fingers before holding them up to show them off to you.

You knew what was coming next, your mouth now open as you were waiting for the intrusion of his fingers. He learned it was the easiest way to keep you quiet when you needed to be. As you took the digits in your mouth, you were sucking on his fingers. “There we go.” Spencer praised as he was shifting, now pushing his leaking cock into your pussy with a soft groan.

“I love you.” He breathed, letting his hips slowly snap against yours just to build you up for what was to come. Your face was contorted in pleasure as you muffled an ‘I love you’ around his fingers in return.

The thought of you being pregnant was bringing out an animalistic side of your normal gentle husband. He loved seeing you pregnant with your first, it made him feel like he was finally contributing to society in the aspect of bringing another potential genius into the world who would do amazing things. The way you looked swollen with his child filled him with pride.

It was also a bragging right. Yes, he had your hand in marriage but he also cemented the fact you were his. You were getting filled with his cum, begging him to ravage you the way you deserved. He was the only one who could make you feel good.

The thought of you being pregnant with his second child was enough to make his thrusts get harder and faster. It was the ultimate act of love to carry his child, to raise a family with him. The ultimate act of intimacy of allowing him to know the pleasures of a family and a successful marriage.

You were squirming underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Spencer was all too focused on the images flooding his mind. “I’m gonna cum.” He panted. “You want me to fill you up? Give you a baby? Fuck.” Cursing was pretty rare for Spencer but just the mere slip of a curse word had your pussy clenching around his cock, signaling you were ready as well.

With a few more sloppy snaps of his thrusts, you could feel the warmth of his spent flooding your cunt, your legs trembling as the sensation was enough to have you reaching your climax. “Fuck.” You panted, your husband’s fingers now being pulled out of your mouth.

His face was flushed, brunette curls plastered to his sweaty forehead as he looked down at you. “You know, I wish we had this idea before. Christmas is coming up so soon, we won’t even be able to get a positive test for her in time for the holiday if we get lucky after this time.”

“I think that Tilly is gonna be happy either way, to be fairly honest. You should’ve seen the way she looked at me when she was asking for a new sibling. She was so excited.” You recalled, smiling in content as you were slowly, but surely, catching your breath.

With soft eyes, Spencer leaned down to press a sweet kiss against your lips. “I’m really happy she brought it up first. I’ve been wanting another baby for a while but I didn’t want you to feel obligated.” The confession had your hand lightly swatting at your husband’s chest.

“Why didn’t you talk to me before?! I never would’ve felt obligated. I’ve always wanted a big family, you know that.”

The reassurance had your husband chuckling fondly. “I know, I know. I promise that for the next little Reid, I’ll get to you before our daughter.” He teased, nose nuzzling into your cheek before he was pushing himself out of bed. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, mama.”

—--

It was currently the third week of January, Matilda freshly back in school for the second semester. It was after you dropped Tilly off at school that you were feeling off. You’d been sick the past week or so, mostly just chalking it up to be a bug Matilda seemingly brought home. The more awful you felt, the more you were worrying. Being pregnant wasn’t a problem at all, however the way you would get your hopes up would be.

You’d pushed the idea back for a while, it wasn’t until you were sick for the fifth time that you figured that the test would be better than nothing. You’d only gotten one negative, however with the brain of your husband and his facts about conception, he still gave you some hope.

The sound of the timer going off in the bathroom snapped you out of your thoughts. It was now or never. As you approached the bathroom, you could feel your heart begin to race. If you were pregnant, that would be the best little surprise for your little family. If not, well, you’d at least get to be heartbroken in peace.

Taking in a deep breath and mustering up all of your courage, you were lifting the test from the sink. You felt like you were going to be sick from a mixture of your ailment as well as the nerves. You exhaled the breath you took in seconds before, eyes fixed on the test.

Pregnant.

You nearly fainted, free hand covering your mouth from the surprise. Pregnant, you’re pregnant. Pregnant!!!!

You were thrilled, the test being tucked away in its box before you were hiding it away. You were going to have to show Spencer and Matilda when they got home. You didn’t have the strength to keep it a huge secret and put a surprise together, they needed to know as soon as possible.

Spencer had gotten to go home early in order to pick up Matilda, something rare that Emily gave him the chance to do considering he was away so much as is. If only those two knew what they were coming home to.

You were just getting finished with a snack for your daughter whenever you heard the sound of keys jingling in the door. It’s now or never!

“We are home!” The little voice called from the living room, the child taking off her coat and backpack before making sure to hang them up.

“Hi you two.” You offered a smile, pressing a kiss to your daughter’s cheek, followed by a quick peck on your husband’s lips. “Tilly, I have you a snack.” She hummed fondly, watching the little brunette hurry to the table. “You might wanna sit down as well,” You informed your husband, who raised an eyebrow.

Without question, he’d approached the table before sitting himself down. “Are we in trouble?” He teased, making you roll your eyes fondly.

“No. I just have something I need to tell you both.” You hummed, grabbing the wrapped box from the counter before placing it on the table. “I found this in the closet. It was addressed to you two, I think we forgot it around Christmas.”

“Forgot it? Mama, we never forget presents.” Matilda spoke around a mouthful of apple slices, although her curiosity was piqued as she leaned against the table. “Open it, daddy!” She urged.

As the colorful wrapping paper was peeled away, the male was opening the box. He knew what it was, however he wanted Matilda to have the first big reaction. The minute that the stick was on the table, you could practically see Matilda’s eyes pop out of their sockets from surprise. “Does that say pregnant?!” She asked, looking at her mother with a wide smile. “There’s a baby?!”

Her excitement made you want to cry your eyes out. “There’s a baby!” You gushed happily. “Now, I still have to go to the doctor because I don’t have specifics just yet,” You began, although your daughter was all too happy to quickly run into your body, arms wrapped around your torso.

“We are gonna have a baby!!!!”

#spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #dad!spencer

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pseudowho · 5 months

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Grandpapamin

(help me find the Nanami artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

When Nanami Kento becomes a grandfather...

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Kento thought the happiest day of his life was when he became a father...but then, his baby had a baby.

It was like love...squared.

He and you dutifully took care of your daughter's house while she was in labour. Kento pruned the plants, and baked, and paced, and paced, and paced.

While Kento knew in his heart his daughter was being well cared-for, he felt stunningly unable to protect her while she went through the biggest day of her life.

In the night, you woke, and your hand brushed out across the sheets for Kento...only to find him not there.

You creep through the house, and find him sat in the armchair by lamplight, his eyes glistening with tears as he goes through an old box, full of photographs of his baby, little onesies, a handprint in clay, a decoration she made at school, her first drawings and handwriting.

You sit with him, in front of the fire, warm and reminiscent, of those long-short years when your babies were babies.

"...she'll be alright?" He worries aloud.

"She'll be more than alright. She'll be amazing," you reassure, kissing his greying temples, stroking crow's feet.

You lead him back to bed, his hand dry, like soft warm leather, and you hold each other with the earnest familiarity of an aged love.

When Kento's phone rings at 7:37 in the morning, a time he never forgets, he is out of bed with a lithe hop, answering, desperate for news.

A sweet, swooping joy, an excited wake-up, an embrace and relief; his grandchild is born, and everyone is safe.

Kento has a grandson; his daughter is resplendent, pink-cheeked, exhausted and proud. Kento holds her close, shedding tears into her hair as she cradles his new grandson; "I'm so proud of you, darling. I always have been. You deserve him."

He drives his daughter and her partner home, knowing they are exhausted.

Kento and you never overstay your welcome; you ensure the new family is comfortable, give kisses and hasty reassurances that you are both just a phone call away, and go home.

Kento cannot stop jiggling his leg in delight on the way home. He is imagining all the wonderful things he wants to do with his new grandson.

Kento calls everyone-- Gojo, Yuuji, Ino, Higuruma. Everyone is delighted. Everyone secretly wants him to be their grandfather.

It is only when Kento and you have gone, that your partner opens the freezer-- "Oh my god!" They exclaim, laughing, "I think your dad has cooked enough to last us a month!" Kento has, obviously. He believes in being organised.

Kento spends the next few years of his life being a thoroughly naughty responsible grandfather.

Visiting Grandpapamin? Oh, only the finest will do.

While Kento always plans wonderful meals with you, his daughter turns her back for just one minute, and returns to find her son with a treat in his hand.

Kento pleads ignorance as he slides the biscuit tin back into the cupboard, a glint in his eye.

Wickedly good at hide and seek. Teaches his grandson all the tricks.

Takes his grandson down to the river, Kento in some waders, his grandson in shorts and rubber boots up to his knees, with little nets, glass jars on strings.

Kento has a reference book for everything; birds, fish, flowers, trees...he and his grandson catch minnows, his grandson splashing, holding his little round cheeks in joy.

Kento thinks his heart might burst, retaliating playfully when his grandson splashes him, giggling.

Kento's grandson is well-versed on the flora and fauna by the little river, by the time he is a grown man. All he wanted to inherit from his grandfather was the old reference books they pored over together.

His grandson inherits Kento's Cursed-sight too, a truth which Kento feels deeply responsible for, as he did when it passed down to his daughter. He fears for his grandson and the terrifying visions he will see in the world.

One day, you catch Kento teaching himself little magic tricks. He curses as he gets tangled in long colourful handkerchiefs; you laugh and blush as he pulls garish flowers out of his sleeve for you. He shows them to his grandson like he has known how to do magic his whole life.

After long sunny days in the garden and by the river, you often find Kento asleep with his snoozing grandson drooling on his chest. You take a photo, every single time, put a blanket over them and leave them in peace.

Kento, who tucks you under his arm on the sofa when they've all gone home, your evenings as intimate as they have always been.

Kento would rather his daughter didn't spend all of her hard-earned money on daycare. Instead, Grandpapamin arrives at her house at 7:30am sharp, ready to babysit ahead of the workday.

The days are silly, wholesome. Tears and tantrums are swiftly, calmly de-escalated. Kento can and will persuade and bribe at mealtimes.

Kento who is just disappointed when his grandson behaves badly-- and that is so much worse than angry.

Kento who takes such good care of his and your health, determined to spend as many healthy years with his family as possible. His old scars ache and creak though; he longs for the sun and sea.

The next year, his grandson is big enough to carry Kento's birthday cake to him, and Kento grumbles, pink-eared as he mulishly accepts a chorus of "Happy birthday". There is an envelope with the cake.

"What's this?" He grumbles again, shooting his daughter a chastising look, "I told you you didn't have to get me anything." She smiles at him, lovely brown eyes twinkling. Kento looks inside-- tickets. Flight tickets. He looks up in surprise, eyebrows raised.

"Kuantan?" He presses, excited despite his earlier chastisement.

"I thought we could all go. Together."

Though his blade hangs up on the wall, proud and displayed, at your insistence, Kento feels like he has been bestowed with the luck of the gods, to have dodged every bullet to get here.

His old scarred burns tingle and prickle, his eyepatch is old and worn, but his grandchildren never feared him; he is just Grandpapamin. He bakes. He takes them to the river. He teaches them how to whittle. He gives the best advice. He wears the softest cardigans.

Kento, who spends the golden years of his life with you, his world, the one who hung the stars.

#jjk #kento nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami x you #nanami fluff #kento nanami x y/n #jujustu kaisen #kento nanami x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami x y/n #nanami x reader #nanami x you

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dorcas4meadowes · 5 months

Text

Blood bending - Luke Castellan

Pairing - Luke Castellan x Fem!Poseidonreader (yes persassy)

Summary: watching avatar the last Airbender, but it's just giving Percy ideas on how to hurt Luke <3

(My bsf gave me the head canon and had to execute it)

warning: mentions of blood

w/c (short) 648

Master list

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Nostalgia endeared the Hermes' cabin, settling amongst the slouching bodies who took closure beside the blaring television. The soft glow that the screen emitted illuminating their tired yet content faces, casting a haze amongst the cabin of travelers.

The day had be tedious and the fatigued residents found solace in the familiarity of Avatar the last air bender, the show reminiscing through their adolescence.

As the final notes of the departure theme begun to unfold many moved from their strategically placed pillows and forts of blankets to take advantage of the interval. Numerous of the smaller Hermes' children retreating to their beds with heavy yawns and blankets draped over their shoulders. The remainder of inhabitants consisted of the older counsellors, except for a disappointed blonde who sat with his arms folded over one another with a disgruntled expression on his face.

He could not relish in the show for as long as the couple adjacent to him continued to be happy.

He made you laugh? The guy with the personality of wet cabbage, Percy thought as Luke - your boyfriend of 2 months - whispered something into you ear which made you helpless giggle. Percy rolled his eyes and tried to divert his attention away from Luke, focusing on the scent of buttery popcorn which wafted across the room and then in an instant, a sinister thought crossed his mind.

You had caught your breath from Lukes words and let yourself relax against him as one of his arms loosely hung around your middle, his other intertwined with your fingers which rested against his leg. You mumbled mindlessly until something caught your gaze, your brother.

"Can you see what Perce is doing", you asked Luke since your head were mainly stowed into the side of your boyfriend.

"I don't exactly know?" he responded, which made you lift away to watch Percy abide to be a buffoon.

He subtly gestured with his fingers to mimic water bending moves he had seen and then you knew what he was trying to do as his eyes bored into Luke's.

"Baby, he trying to blood bend" you said with ease, glancing back to Luke who didn't move from his spot, an amused smile playing on his lips.

"He can't do that right?" he questioned.

"He wouldn't have the control", you responded.

"Can you?"

"Yes" you mumbled, avoiding the question.

"On who?" he asked.

"That is none of your concern".

Instead of bending Luke's insides, Percy knocked over a bottle of water which sat on the coffee table, spilling its contents across the surface, a laugh falling from your lips.

"Percy its not going to work" you snickered, softening back into your boyfriends arms.

"How do you know?" he inquired, moving his fingers once again.

"You need to be calm".

"I am calm".

"Yes very" Luke intervened.

"Shut up Castellan" he yelled.

"Percy Jackson, do not scream at my boyfriend".

"He deserves it".

"Right i'm calling Sally" you threatened, but before you could stand he begun to apologise immensely. "Not to me, to Luke".

He appeared revolted, his cheeks turning a dark hue of red, "sorry" he whispered.

"Louder".

"Sorry" he said, quieter than the first time.

"Thank you Percy" Luke said beside you, accepting the deflated confession.

"What would you have done anyways Perce?" you asked him. You watched him think about ways he could injure your boyfriend, his features forming a smile.

Throw him into a fire?

Make him spill water on himself?

Drown him?

He could do the last one simply without bending his blood so instead of replying he made a list of potential ways he could hurt your boyfriend, the repetitive thoughts of violence lulling him to sleep against the couch underneath him.

You allowed him to rest until it was only Luke and yourself on the couches. After a few complaints about the sound from the television you stood and let your boyfriend walk you back to your cabin, with a snoozing Percy resting against him in his arms.

"He's cute when he's asleep".

“When he isn’t trying to drown you”.

#luke castellan imagines #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo x you #pjo x reader #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #persassy #riawrites

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lxndonorris · 2 months

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a paddock affair - Lando Norris

Y/N x Lando Norris Theme: Fluff Lando introduces you to part of the paddock x mentions of Max, Carlos, Charles, Oscar and Daniel word count: 1200+ taglist: @game-set-canet requested by anonymous :) hope you like it. gif by me;

As the sun is shining brightly, casting its golden ray upon the Melbourne skyline, you find yourself standing outside the gates of the prestigious Formula 1 paddock, hand in hand with Lando, your heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nerves.

It had been a whirlwind romance since you first met a few months ago, and now Lando was inviting you into his world, the heart of the F1 action.

"Lando, I'm really nervous," you confess, tugging at the collar of your Mclaren team jacket, a piece of clothing that now holds sentimental value beyond its sleek design.

Lando squeezes your hand reassuringly, his trademark grin lighting up his face.

"Don't worry, love. You'll be great. Everyone's going to love you."

With his comforting words, you make your way into the paddock, where the air is alive with the hum of engines and the chatter of mechanics and drivers preparing for the weekend ahead.

Your first stop is to meet Lando's good friend and teammate turned rival, Carlos Sainz. As you approach, Carlos looks up from his conversation with a mechanic, and his face breaks into a wide smile.

"Lando! And who's this lovely lady?" Carlos greets you, his Spanish accent laced with warmth.

"This is Y/N, Carlos. My girlfriend." Lando introduces you proudly with a shy smile playing on his lips.

Carlos extends his hand, and you shake it, feeling a rush of gratitude for his friendly demeanor. Lando stands by your side, his comforting touch a constant reassurance; his hand strokes the small of your back, a subtle yet comforting gesture.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I must say, you look great in that Mclaren gear," he motions to the jacket Land gave you a few days prior. "You're practically part of the team already."

You blush at the compliment, feeling a sense of belonging wash over you as you exchange pleasantries before Carlos gets called away to attend to his duties in the garage.

Next, you encounter Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc engaged in an animated discussion. Their laughter echoes through the paddock as they reminisce about the last race. As you approach, they exchange knowing smirks before Charles excuses himself, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

Max bounds over to you, his infectious energy filling the air. "Well, well, well, Lando, you sly dog! Hiding your girlfriend from us, eh?"

Lando rolls his eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah, Max. This is Y/N, by the way."

Max shakes your hand enthusiastically. "Pleasure to meet you, Y/N. Don't worry, we won't give Lando too much trouble... maybe."

Their banter is like music to your ears, easing your nerves and making you feel like a part of the tight-knit F1 family. Amidst the lively banter and laughter, Lando's presence anchors you as the grip on your hand tightens ever so slightly.

After Max excuses himself as well, Oscar Piastri joins your little group. You had met him before, and he greeted you with a warm smile, genuine concern evident in his eyes.

"How are you feeling, Y/N?" Excited?" Oscar asks, his Australian accent adding a touch of familiarity to the conversation.

"Excited doesn't even begin to cover it," you reply, unable to contain your enthusiasm.

Lando wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close. "Come on, let's take a stroll through the paddock. I want to show you everything."

As you wander through the bustling paddock, Lando points out the intricacies of the garages, the sleek motorhomes where the drivers and teams strategize, and the various anemities that make the F1 experience truly one-of-a-kind.

With each step, your anxiety melts away, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe at the world Lando inhabited.

At the same time, your eyes can't help but wander to Lando, taking in every detail. His Mclaren shirt hugs his lean frame perfectly, the familiar papaya orange contrasting beautifully against his sun-kissed skin. The casual elegance of his outfit, paired with jeans that fit just right, only serves to enhance his natural charm.

But it is his curly hair that always captivates you the most. Each unruly lock seems to have a mind of its own, framing his face in a way that is both effortlessly cool and undeniably endearing. Every time a stray curl falls across his forehead, your heart skips a beat, reminding you just how lucky you are to be by his side.

"Lando, your hair looks amazing today." You can't help but gush, reaching up to tuck a wayward curl behind his ear.

He grins, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Thanks, love. It's a constant battle trying to tame these ecurls, but I'm glad you like them."

You smile and caress Lando's cheek, marveling at the softness of his skin beneath your fingertips. His stubble tickles you ever so slightly, but you welcome the sensation, relishing in the intimacy of your moment together.

"I love your beard, Lando," you murmur, tracing the contours of his jawline with your thumb. "It suits you so well."

A hint of surprise flickers in his eyes before a sheepish grin spreads across his face. "You do? I wasn't sure if I should keep it or not."

You nod emphatically, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Definetly keep it. It makes you look even more handsome, if that's even possible."

His laughter echoes through the air around you, filling you with warmth and contentment.

Lost in your quiet moment, a familiar voice breaks through the serenity around you. "Hey there, mate."

Startled, you turn to see Daniel Ricciardo approaching you, already donning his racing suit with that siganture grin plastered across his face.

Before Lando can react, Daniel reaches out and playfully pokes his sides, causing him to burst into giggles.

"Hey, Danny." Lando exclaims, returning the gesture with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Trying to distract me before training, huh?"

Daniel chuckles, his charm undeniable, as he joins you. "You know me, mate. Always up for a bit of fun."

Lando's arm finds its way around your waist, pulling you close, giving you comfort.

You fall into easy conversation, chatting about racing and sharing anecdotes from past experiences on the track. Daniel's enthusiasm is infectious, and soon enough, you are all laughing like old friends reunited.

After a while, Daniel excuses himself, a glint of determination in his eyes, as he prepares to focus on the upcoming race weekend. "Well, it's been great catching up, but duty calls. See you both later."

With a wave and a parting smile, he disappears into the bustling crowd, leaving behind a lingering sense of camaraderie that warms your heart.

You turn your head to find Lando looking at you, a warm smile forming on his lips.

"Lando," you say softly, overcome with emotion, "thank you for bringing me into the paddock."

A tender smile graces his lips as he gently caresses your cheek. "You did amazing, Y/N; I'm proud of you."

His words fill you with warmth, and as he leans in to kiss you, you feel a rush of love and affection wash over you, knowing that with Lando by your side, there is nothing you can't face together.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fluff

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ja3yun · 4 months

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Undercover Lover (pt.2) | P.JS

detective!jay x detective fem!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), angst, unprotected sex, oral (f. rec), edging, begging, teasing, kinda rough, mentions of guns and alcohol, gambling, confrontation, jay is kinda mean again but he makes up for it! not proofread.

wc: 9.1k+

synopsis: after yesterday's antics, you're still obligated to work alongside jongseong. however, when you're forced into a life-threatening predicament, feelings become tangled.

(part 1)

a/n: hi! a LOT of people asked for a part.2 and although i initially set it to be a one-off, you all enjoyed it so much i had to give you a conclusion. jongseong in the final two scenes has me swooning icl! enjoy <3 feedback is always appreciated, don't let it flop pls

_______

As you delicately adjust the spaghetti straps of your dress in the mirrored reflection of the elevator, a subtle uncertainty creeps into your mind regarding the chosen outfit. It doesn't exactly exude a rich man’s wife, but your limited wardrobe options leave you with no alternative, the only fancy clothing you own is the dress that got mercilessly ripped in half at the hands of Jongseong.

Even thinking about last night is giving you a dry mouth. Jongseong had manhandled you, fucked you so good you’ll be thinking about it for months and then proceeded to just leave you, your self-worth shattered like glass. You knew he was an asshole but that was a new level of low.

Even this morning, he had the audacity to reach out, seeking your assistance once again. You might be on a mission but you do contemplate whether you even have enough respect for him to pretend to be his wife.

To call him yours, kiss him, and be in love with him. It was a mission within itself.

However, the gravity of the case at hand hangs over your precinct, too important to be jeopardised by personal feelings. This case has the potential to change everything, and you want to be credited for your part in it. Perhaps there's a twinge of spite aimed at your work rival, but the prospect of infuriating him further by sharing the glory spurs you on.

As the elevator comes to a stop in the main lobby, a firm resolve forms inside you - that you’re going to become the best wife Jongseong could ever dream of, and make sure your name ends up on the case report.

Your eyes land on Jongseong’s broad back, the white solid ribbed knit top is tight enough for your brain to work out the contours of his back. Before you can stop yourself, you’re thinking about how his shoulder blades felt under the tip of your fingers and how you could feel every muscle working as he fucked into you. If there was one good thing about having sex with Jongseong last night it’s using the lust and memory to your advantage. If you can’t fake love, you can at least reminisce about the desire you felt for him last night.

Placing your hand on his arm and stroking down until your fingers interlock, you begin your Oscar-winning performance, “Hi, Jjongie. I’m sorry I slept in,” With your free hand you turn his face to look a you before bringing him down for a kiss.

Despite the suddenness of your presence and physical affection, Jongseong kisses you back delicately, and those lips touching yours again send a bolt of lightning down your spine. Involuntarily, your body arches into his touch as he lets go of your hand and wraps his arms around your waist.

The kiss feels different than the one last night; it's gentler than the way his lips were battering yours. Probably because Mr. and Mrs. Kim are looking straight at you both, Jongseong felt pressure to pour some sweetness into it, rather than hatred.

When you go to pull away, Jongseong pulls you back for more, his tongue swiping your bottom lip. You don’t know why he’s dragging this out considering Kwangmin is thoroughly convinced about the both of you, if not by your words of affection at dinner yesterday, then certainly by the way you’re both holding one another. Regardless, you let him continue because the feelings he’s portraying in this one kiss are more of an apology you’ll get verbally from him.

“You’re both so perfect for one another!” Mrs. Kim shrieks, looking at you both with adoration.

Her voice brings you both back to earth. You turn to face her but Jongseong’s eyes are still on you, assessing how you might be feeling underneath your charade but you’re so good at hiding your true emotions, he can’t work it out.

“Sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Kim for being so late, we had a long night last night, Didn’t we, baby?” Your pupils are still blown from the kiss and exhilaration of this case that the light reflects almost a starry gaze as you look at your pretend husband.

Jongseong sits his arm along your waist and smiles, “We did, angel. You look beautiful so I think we can all agree the delay was worth it.” He confesses.

“She does look radiant, Hwang,” Mr. Kim comments, “Come, let’s go to the lounge for brunch,” The Kims walk ahead leaving you and Jongseong trailing behind them, the air filled with unspoken words.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and tightens his grip, not offering you a glance but reassurance. This was a big deal, this was your last chance to get in on the drug smuggling scheme and coax a confession from Kwangmin about all his wrongdoings. He knew how much pressure was on you both.

As you walk into the lounge, you see lots of the same people from last night; upper-class men with their suits, talking about nothing of substance. The place was made for VIPs of the hotel, however, Mr. Kim’s influence earned him a special section on the far right-hand side. The only way you and Jongseong could get in there was with Kwangmin escorting you, however with the drug king opening up his private lounge for you, it brings envious stares of those around you.

Jongseong notices the shift in your manner and pulls your hand to his lips, kissing it lightly before moving into the area, his protective body barricading you in case something happens. If he was half the man he was as Hwang Jongseong, Park Jongseong would be far more bearable.

He takes a seat and pulls you beside him, keeping you close. For the first time on this trip, you’re both alone with the Kims, no eyes scouring at you or observing your every move. Although you were putting on this act for the criminal, you weren’t naive to the fact that he would have eyes on you both at all times.

But now that you're alone, Jongseong, and you've raised your guard, the uncertainty of what might happen makes the situation stressful.

“It’s so nice to have you here with us today. We can only apologise for the abrupt leave of absence at dinner last night, you both seemed to need some privacy.” Mr. Kim laughs, pouring a glass of 18-year-old Yamazaki single malt for Jongseong and himself, “I assume my wife’s wonderful suggestion brought you both closer.

You could say that.

“Yes, Mr. Kim. It was an excellent idea, we’ll steal the idea for future occasions if you don’t mind.” Jongseong swirls the glass, admiring the fragrant alcohol. This might be his only time to try a £1,700 bottle of whiskey, so he jumps at the chance.

With a click of his fingers, Kwangming summons a waiter over to give you a glass of champagne, the bubbles at the bottom fizz happily, meaning it’s on the more expensive side. He truly liked to spend money, which raises your suspicion considering he is known to be cautious with his finances unless it’s on his wife. He’s up to something.

The conversation flows between your husband and Mr. Kim. You suppose Jongseong has been on this case for months, setting up a rapport with him, otherwise, why would you both even be here?

Jongseong seamlessly transitions into his role, portraying the character so convincingly that, if it weren't for the mere two desks that separate you back at the office, one could easily be fooled. He navigates a series of probing questions about how he used the inherited money, his investment strategy, and his ambitious aspiration of matching Mr. Kim's wealth. To the casual observer, his demeanour appears cool and collected. Yet, small indicators show the subtle strain beneath the surface - a tensed hand on your thigh when confronted with difficult questions, or the rare slip over facts.

Your role as his wife, whether the affection you express is genuine or artificial, remains the same: to provide comfort and reassurance. Your hand delicately strokes his arm, and you kiss his shoulder tenderly. It seems to work each time as if your presence calms him down.

The vibration of Jongseong’s phone gains the attention of everyone in the room. He thought he had turned it on silent, scared that any interference from outside could jeopardise your case.

He delves into his back pocket, retrieving his mobile. Of fucking course, it's Heeseung calling – of all the times, he chooses the most inconvenient moment.

Glancing over, you spot the contact name, panic briefly flashing in your eyes. "Baby, just ignore it; we’re with company," you suggest, offering him a way out of the awkward situation. However, Mr. Kim dismisses your words, extending his hand to signal Jongseong it’s okay to answer the call.

Your husband looks at you with concern, hesitant to leave you alone with the couple. Yet, you communicate through your eyes that you can handle the situation perfectly well and assure him that you'll be fine on your own.

He pats your head and answers the call, careful not to be too loud.

“Y/N, tell me, how would you like to accompany my wife to the spa?” Mr. Kim poses the query nonchalantly but it throws you off. Being a detective, you have a natural curiosity and question every intention and this is no different.

Shifting your gaze to Mrs. Kim she has a bright smile on her face, “Please, Y/N, it would be so lovely to spend some time with you,” You have to admit, she did seem like a genuinely warm and lovely person compared to her man. Spending a few hours with her would also help her open up; If you can’t get Mr. Kim to speak about it, maybe you can convince Mrs. Kim.

“I would love that, some R and R is just what I need,” You giggle, “Plus, it’s been so long since I’ve had some girl time.” The words you speak aren’t a lie, you could do with some relaxation, the knots in your shoulders that have been there for the past 3 years need to be unravelled.

“Excellent!” Mrs. Kim claps, “Come, Y/N,” She takes your hand, pulls you from the couch and blows a kiss to her husband who happily catches it. Aside from all the drugs and murder, you do wish for someone to dote on you like that, just once in your life.

Walking out of the lounge, you both bump into Jongseong who looks at you with wide eyes, confused, “Sorry, Jongseong, I’m stealing your wife for an hour or two.”

His demeanour stiffens, reminiscent of his initial uneasiness in the lounge. Given his previous interactions with the Kims, his suspicions are understandable. "I see. Can I speak with Y/N, and she can meet you there?" he asks, surprising you with his unexpected request. Wouldn't it be strange if he initiated having a conversation with his wife straight after receiving a phone call?

Seizing Mrs. Kim's arm, you titter into character, "Jjongie, you can talk to me later. I'd like to go have some fun. Okay? Mr. Kim is waiting for you."

He sighs, conceding, "Of course, baby." He leans in and kisses your cheek, the touch lingering, "Please be careful," he says quietly enough to go unnoticed by your spa companion.

"Do not worry, Jongseong. I'm good at taking care of myself, remember?" You whisper through gritted teeth. It was a true statement but also a dig at last night and he knows it. Your genuine feelings for him remain disgusted beneath the facade of a completely loyal wife.

He passes you and Mrs. Kim with a nod and a tongue poking his cheek, his departure accompanied by a sour attitude.

_____

As you and Mrs. Kim walk into the spa, it is like nothing you have ever seen before. The ambience surrounding the lobby is tranquil, the echos of waves from the white noise machines fill your ears. Despite being a girl who loves maximalism, you can’t help but find beauty in the sleek gold and orange furnishings that adorn the place. It’s dimly lit, with only a few lamps on throughout the area which only puts you into instant relaxation mode.

Your job doesn’t come with many perks but you could get used to this, you wonder if Mr. Kim has any friends.

Focus, Y/N. You drill into yourself. If you get too caught up in the serenity of the spa, you’ll lose your chance to move this case forward.

Truthfully, you aren’t expecting much from this conversation but any sort of intel is better than nothing. Mrs. Kim could either know every inch of her husband's secret dealings or be completely oblivious, either way, it’s an avenue you have to explore.

The receptionist sees you both stroll up to the counter and stands, bowing slightly, “Welcome, Mrs. Kim, Mrs. Hwang, It’s lovely to have you both join us this afternoon,” How did she know your alias?

“Thank you, Seola, do you have the room ready?” Mrs. Kim asks.

The receptionist nods and directs you to two masseuses who guide you into an almost pitch-black room, the only light emanating is from a Wood and Lavender Yankee candle in the middle of the room.

Mrs. Kim starts to undress and lays on the massage table, and you follow suit. It’s a little weird, getting naked in front of three people you don’t know but that feeling instantly goes away when your masseuse drops some oil onto your back.

You let out a little groan in satisfaction as she starts to work her magic, you definitely need to come here with your girls for a proper retreat away.

“Y/N, can I ask you something, woman to woman?” Mrs. Kim speaks up, breaking the peaceful silence after about 15 minutes.

“Sure, Mrs. Kim,” Your eyes roll as the girl’s hands apply pressure to your shoulder, working out the tension you’ve pent up.

“Please, call me Heejin,” This is good, first name basis with the drug lord’s missus is a step in the right direction and all you had to do was lay there and be pampered. If only everything was that easy, “You and Jongseong, you’ve been married for how long?”

Shit. Shit. Why can’t you remember what your profile said? 2 years, no, 3? No wait, married for one, it was definitely one.

While you internally battle with the facts, Heejin twists her head to look at you, eyebrows raised, “One year, it’s all gone by so fast it feels more like forever,” You joke, hoping to play it off. Being in this setting is making you complacent, you need to get your head back in detective mode.

She smiles at you, tucking her arms under her head, still looking at you, “Honeymoon phase is still in full swing I see. Tell me, was it the money?”

“Huh?” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

Clicking her fingers, the masseuses leave the room urgently. Like a wave washing over you, you realise what’s happening. She’s duped you, “Y/N, you’re not fooling anyone here, you both aren’t. I know what Jongseong wants from my husband; I’ve been observing him for a while.”

This is not good.

You sit up, wrapping a towel around your body to maintain some decency. This is twice in 24 hours you’ve been naked and vulnerable in front of someone. Next time, you’re not taking your clothes off so easily.

Heejin mirrors you, both of you are knee-to-knee. The shadows from the candle on her face make her look totally different, she looks dangerous. You should have known she wouldn’t have been as innocent as she looked, she was a Kim after all.

It’s hard to read the situation because her voice remains monotonous as she speaks, “He wants my husband’s money.”

Do you play dumb? Your persona is to be clueless and just madly in love with Jongseong but that isn’t going to play right now. She’s smart enough to see through it.

"Actually, I want your husband's money," you respond, sitting up with purpose. The confession piques Heejin's interest, and she leans back slightly to gaze upon you in a fresh light. "My Jjongie is wealthy now, but he needs more. Your husband has the means to put him in a healthier position," you say, changing the tone from serene to animosity. This is your opportunity to play her perfectly.

"What 'means' are you referring to?" She retorts. Heejin is smart, too smart.

If you wanted to catch them, you couldn’t say ‘I want my man involved in your drug ring’ outright because then it isn’t a confession, it’s you leading the witness which wouldn’t hold up in court. Your heart is pounding and for some reason, you really wish Jongseong was here.

"Heejin, you're not naive. You understand what I mean," you assert, and she nods, smirking, clearly grasping the gravity of your insinuation. "How can we establish a working relationship between our husbands?"

She leans on her palm, elbow sinking into her leg as her gaze burns into you akin to the candle beside you, “What’s in it for me?”

Like most women, she has far more power than her husband. Jongseong had been so concentrated on winning over Kwangmin that he should have been sussing out and building an alliance with Heejin.

You scoff out a laugh, “My husband is new money, do you know how many contacts he’s made in just a few years? Get Kwangmin and Jongseong into business together and I’ll make sure you have every name and detail of each one of them,”

“Y/N, I have all the contacts I nee–”

"Yang Jungwon" The name strikes the woman in front of you. The case file specifically addressed Mr. Yang several times, as well as Kwangmin's attempts to reach him for many years without success. Yang Jungwon is the leader of hundreds of black-market schemes across South Korea; whatever agreement Mr. Kim could make with him would render the drug lord invincible. Your colleague, Sunoo, has been working on catching Yang for years, but he's like a ghost, never staying in a single place for too long and far too distrustful, so he gets rid of most of the individuals he works with.

It’s an empty promise and if the rest of this mission proceeds longer than this week, you’d be the first on the chopping board either from your superior or the Kims.

Crossing her arms, she nods, “For several years, yes. And how do you know where he is?”

“He offered to work with my husband in exchange for exclusivity, Yang would work only with Jongseong, and in return he would do the same,” The lies fly out of your mouth like you’re in secondary school and you’ve been rehearsing for your Spanish oral exam.

Heejin’s eyes narrow but in thoughtfulness rather than suspicion, “Trust is not easily earned. What guarantees do I have? You could be lying for all I know.”

You pause for a moment, choosing your next words carefully, “Actions speak louder than words. Get my Jjongie a meeting with your husband to discuss it, and I’ll give you Yang’s current location.”

She appears to be carefully considering your proposal because, to her, even if there is a slight chance you are lying, it is too good an opportunity to pass up. As she begins to speak, a knock interrupts her. As the door opens, you both turn to face the spa attendants, who are holding a tray of sparkling water and cucumbers.

Exchanging a glance with Heejin, she nods her head and smirks, taking her drink from the tray.

“How good is Jongseong at poker?”

_____

“Jongseong?!” You burst into the Ambassador suite, your excitement is palpable as you search for your co-worker. “I have some amazing news. I got you a-”

However, your words catch in your throat as you witness Jongseong harshly packing Petunia with your clothes. Is it over? Did he already secure what was needed for the case?

Ignoring your attempts at conversation, Jongseong briskly zips up your case and places it in front of you. His voice takes on a stern edge as his perfect jawline clenches, "You're going home."

Confusion flickers across your face as you process his unexpected actions, “Why? Jongseong, listen to me, Mrs. Kim gave us a gateway in.”

He pauses for a moment, his gaze piercing into you. This morning, he seemed to have been softer in his manner but now it’s back to good old cold Jongseong, not giving you the time of day. After the apology, albeit through text, you thought he might have some remorse but now he’s just kicking you out like you aren’t about to give him the lifeline he needs to break this case open. He never valued you, not as a person and not as his partner on the undercover mission.

“The poker game? Yeah, Kwangmin texted me about it. I appreciate your efforts but I don’t need you here anymore. It’s a done deal.” His words sting, after all the work you put into this case he can’t just kick you off.

“I’m not going.” You stand your ground, picking your suitcase up and unzipping it, taking out the clothes you planned to wear tonight.

Jongseong releases an almost growl-like groan, forcefully pushing you away from the suitcase. He snatches the dress from your hands, roughly throwing it back in, "Listen to me, Y/N. This is MY case, alright? Not yours. I decide when you stick your fucking nose in." His face is flushed with frustration, and his eyes flicker alarmingly over you as if harbouring unspoken sentiments. There was more to this, you just didn’t know what, "Go home. Now."

Defiantly shaking your head, you retort, "I got you this chance. I am just as involved in this case now as you are." Your tone hisses with determination, "Plus, how would it look if I suddenly don't turn up tonight? A little suspicious, wouldn't you say? They'll know something is up." The attempt to negotiate with him feels futile, especially in the midst of his seething anger.

How can he be so idiotic? Surely, he understands the repercussions of his actions. If he shows up tonight without his ‘wife’ it’ll foil the entire plan.

"Get it through your thick skull, L/N. I don't need you. You served your purpose for me, so fuck off out of here," Jongseong bites out with a cold finality.

The sharp sound of a slap resonates through the room.

With all the force you can muster, you've just slapped Park Jongseong. It feels as if a primal instinct took control of your body in a moment of fight or flight. His words struck you because you know he’s not talking about the mission, he’s talking about last night.

Your hand tingles with the aftermath of the hit, and you can only imagine the soreness on his right cheek. The room hangs in an electric silence, the consequences of your impulsive action reverberating between you and your partner.

Quickly, he grabs each side of your face with force, pressing his forehead to yours. You should be scared, terrified of his next actions but for some reason, you know he won’t hurt you, an inexplicable trust courses between you and him. The way he connected both of your heads was as if he was trying to telepathically communicate with you, the intensity of his gaze serving as a silent aid to the cause.

“Please, Y/N. Please go home, don’t come tonight.”

He was scared, you could see that now. The way his voice trembles as he says your name tells you all you need to know. Reaching up, you wrap your arms around his neck, massaging him softly but before you can get too comfortable with the embrace, he pushes you away gently, holding you at arm's length.

Caught in a whirlpool of competing emotions, you try to find the right words but the mixture of emotions is too loud for you to gather any coherent thoughts in your head.

He takes your silence as surrender and moves you to the side, finding his way to the bathroom to start getting ready for tonight’s big event.

______

Lugging Petunia behind you, you make your way through the lobby with a heavy feeling in your chest. Jongseong left an hour ago to go into the poker game, not speaking a word to you.

The entire situation leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You should despise him, tell him to go to fuck after the way he's treated you this weekend – insulting your work ethic, battering your self-esteem, and ultimately deeming you worthless. He's been an unapologetic asshole.

Yet, a sense of concern for his well-being gnaws at you. You've always been an empathetic person, but this takes it to another level. When his eyes bore into yours earlier, you felt his fear, the apprehension of what the night's outcome might bring. The poker game wasn't going to be a simple, friendly competition; it held the potential for disastrous consequences.

You can’t let him do this alone.

Despite your valid anger and hurt, a sense of responsibility drives you to return to the lift, retracing your steps back to your room to change. Jongseong will probably kill you for intervening, but deep down, you know it's the right thing to do.

Minutes later, you emerge from your room, having changed your casual clothes for something more appropriate for the poker game, a skimpy gold dress that shows your tits and ass perfectly. The weight of your decision rests heavily on your shoulders, but you can't back down now. You need to be there.

As you return to the lobby, your thoughts swirl. The contradictory feelings of disdain towards Jongseong yet still having the need to protect him against your better judgment create a storm within you. It's a difficult decision of empathy versus self-preservation. Jongseong was scared because no one could predict Mr. Kim’s moves, which meant even stepping into the VIP area was a risk, you know that but how could you go back to the precinct knowing you could have helped in some way? What if something happened to your partner?

Taking a deep breath, you fix your posture and stride into the lounge, heading directly for the poker game. Just like earlier in the day, the VIP area is heavily guarded by Kim’s men but you stay unfazed, you’re getting in there one way or another.

“Can I help you, Ma’am?” One of the guards asks.

“My husband is in there, Mr. Hwang. He’s expecting me, I’m a little late,” You smile brightly but he doesn’t budge, “Could you let me in to see him?”

Turning, he talks into his earpiece and you stand there, swinging on your heels as you wait, eager to get in there. You see his head nod as he faces you again, “Go ahead, Ma’am.” That was a lot easier than it should have been but you don’t question it too much, bowing as you walk past the guards.

The room is filled with burley men in suits, they all keep a strong gaze on you as your feet reach the room ahead where the game is. It’s about an hour and a half into it, so you can only hope everything is peaceful.

It must be your lucky day because as one of Kim’s men opens the door for you, you see the Kims and Jongseong silently playing the game. At least he’s safe.

“Ah, Y/N. Jongseong said you had an emergency and had to leave?” Mr. Kim queries, glancing up at you.

Jongseong’s back straightens and he turns to you with wide eyes, his hands almost dropping his cards.

“I managed to sort it. I can’t let a little matter like that ruin the weekend, right?” Your voice is higher pitched to match your character. Honestly, it’s grating you every time you open your mouth. One of the guards pulls out a chair for you but you swerve him and sit on Jongseong’s lap, circling your arms around his neck as you give him a quick kiss on his lips, “Hi, baby.”

His left hand holds your ass up, providing some support as you get comfortable on his thighs, “Y/N, what are you doing here?” He whispers into your lips, kissing you gently. You can feel his heart rapidly beating in his chest as he rubs his hand on your lower back and ass cheeks. Since your dress was so short, half of your ass is hanging out, so the warmth of his hand on your bare skin is setting a fire in your lower belly, thoughts of last night creeping back into your mind.

“I’m not letting you do this alone, I’ll take the risk.” He hears your determined voice and nods, it’s not like he could do anything about it now, you’re in this mess with him whether he likes it or not.

You take the cards from his hands and smile, “Mr. Kim, you don’t mind if I help him out, right?” You’re hoping you’ve played your persona well enough that you aren’t deemed a threat to his chances of winning, what with being just a stupid little girl with her husband's money. Heejin knows you better than that now though and smirks at you out with her husband’s view, she’s impressed at how you came in and took over.

“Of course, Y/N, I think your husband could use some guidance.” Kwangmin jokes and gestures to the table. Jongseong is losing big time it’s almost embarrassing.

Looking at his cards you analyse the situation, whispering to Jongseong, “Follow my lead, yeah?”

40 minutes later, you and Jongseong are literally wiping the floor with Mr. Kim, all the hands seeming to fall into place. Turns out, the issue Jongseong was having was that he had never played poker in his life, reading a quick guide before coming down. It was rookie play but thank god you came when you did.

The Kims look frustrated as they lose and it’s about the get even worse because you’re staring at the straight flush of cards in disbelief. Unless Kwangmin has a royal flush or higher-ranking cards for a straight flush, this game is as good as yours.

Feeling a pinch on your side you glance at Jongseong who is looking at you intently, “Should we throw it?” He whispers. You understand where he is coming from, throwing it would give Mr. Kim no reason to throw a gasket and lash out but if you lose, there’s no guarantee he will see Jongseong as a worthy partner. It could go either way.

You shake your head, concealing the gesture by rubbing your nose against his. "No, play it. Don't fold."

“It could go south,” He debates back.

“Trust me, you need to win and we’ll deal with what comes, okay?” You kiss him, telling yourself it’s his fake wife’s actions but in reality, you did it to try and still his nerves, hoping he focuses on your lips rather than the potential threat of what is to come.

He kisses you back, his eyes shutting, deepening the kiss and prolonging it way more than you intended. Each glide of his tongue carries a weight of apprehension, the gravity of the situation prompting him to embrace the moment fiercely. If things go awry, he wants this kiss to linger as a lasting memory.

"Hwang, are you going to play?" Mr. Kim's snap pierces the tension-filled air, his frustration is evident in the tone.

Amidst the strained atmosphere, Jongseong meets Mr. Kim's impatient gaze and nods, "Apologies, Mr. Kim. Let's continue." his voice carries a confidence that contradicts his internal turmoil. As you lay down the cards, revealing the straight flush, a hushed gasp ripples through the room.

Mr. Kim's frustration transforms into an icy glare as he surveys the winning hand before him. The weight of the moment hangs in the air, and for a heartbeat, everything seems suspended in anticipation. His face contorted with suspicion, and he abruptly rose from his seat, eyes still fixated on the straight flush laid on the table.

“This is impossible,” His previous frustration is transforming into accusation, “You two…you cheated me!” His voice is heavy with venom.

Jongseong lifts you before standing up himself, his face a mirror to the gravity of the situation. Kwangmin is going to do exactly what he was scared of. His grip on your hips tightens.

The entire room is silent following his accusation but is suddenly broken by the ominous click of his holster being undone. You and Jongseong both freeze as Mr. Kim pulls out a gun, the steal of the semi-automatic catches the light.

Your throat dries up as a desperate echo of wishing you had brought your own weapon with you swirls your mind, it would have come in real handy right now. Before you have time to think, Jongseong has stepped in front of you, acting as a protective shield.

“This was a set-up, you hustled me for nearly £2 million! Your little wife knew you were losing and you called her back here, didn’t you?” Mr. Kim's voice is a vicious snarl, and the Beretta in his hands is now aimed directly at your head.

Jongseong pulls his gun from his jacket pocket, pointing it to the madman in front of you. His action caused a domino effect of guns being pointed from every angle, each of his men has both of you in their line of sight.

However, although you’ve basically accepted your fate, Jongseong doesn’t waver, “Kwangmin I promise you, you don��t want to touch a hair on my girl’s head.”

“Or what?”

“Or else your wife will become a widow.”

Jongseong's words hang heavy in the air. He means each word, his finger poised to pull the trigger. It's a testament to how far he'll go to defend you, even amidst the violent confrontation. As the safety on his gun clicks off, the room becomes enveloped in hostile silence. In this moment, Jongseong is the shield between you and the looming threat of your opponents gun. You find yourself unable to reciprocate the same level of protection for him, mustering a guilty feeling in your chest.

You wanted to help him but you’re stuck. The whole point of coming to this stupid game was to help him and now you can’t even do that, in fact, you might have made it worse by actually aiding him to win.

The standoff seems to go on for an eternity, each heartbeat echoing like a drum in the charged atmosphere. It’s a battle between the glares in their eyes, you’ve never seen your partner so focused.

“Jongseong, think about this,” Mr. Kim sneers, trying to one-up his opponent, “If you pull that trigger, you won’t leave this room alive.”

Jongseong’s expression remains stern, his gun unwavering, “I’m not afraid to die if it means protecting her.”

You don’t know what to say, whether he meant it as your fake husband or as a fellow detective, it still made your heart leap from your chest. Was he truly willing to die for you? Honestly, in this situation, you don’t want to test it out.

As you step forward, Jongseong holds you back, warning you silently not to move but as you gain a new perspective, you see Heejin staring at you with a knowing glare in her eyes. Raising your eyebrows and flicking your eyes to her husband, she understands, nodding slowly.

“Kwangie, baby,” It’s funny how she also puts on a persona around her husband, “They won fair and square. It seems Y/N is just really good at poker.” Her hand rubs his arm, snaking its way to the one holding the gun, pushing it down.

You feel like you can breathe again, the burden of possibly losing your life slowly easing. The only one who could tell Mr. Kim what to do was Heejin. Her husband’s eyes land on her, a momentary flicker of uncertainty crossing his face as he battles with the decision to listen to his wife or end this with one bullet.

“Heejin, they can’t get away with this even if they won. He threatened you.” He debates with her.

“Yes, but baby, you also threatened the love of his life. You can protect yours but he can’t protect his?” They’re both playing a tennis match with each other’s reasonings, and Heejin hits an ace. It all comes down to Mr. Kim being a family man, that’s what saves you.

Mr. Kim’s shoulders relax and instructs his men to lower their weapons. Once all guns are no longer pointed at your heads, Jongseong follows suit, bringing you close to his side. You can sense his heart slowing back down as his breathing regulates.

Subtly, you mouth a ‘thank you’ to Heejin who lowers her head in a courteous nod, “Now, why don’t we break this up and reconvene when you’re both in better minds, yeah?” She suggests.

Unsurprisingly, the whole room agrees, holstering their weapons. Kim’s men gather the poker chips in a suitcase and hand them to Jongseong who hesitates to accept. This is more money than he could have imagined he’d ever own but it also wasn’t his to keep. In one last attempt to gain trust, he pushes the case to Kwangmin, “Keep it. I don’t need your money anyway.”

It’s tactical to give the money back, you know Jongseong has a plan and you definitely trust him after his heroic display towards you.

______

As the elevator pings, you glide into your room, laughing in disbelief. You can’t believe that a poker game that began as a way to build a bridge between the two men ended in a near-death confrontation.

“I can’t believ-”

“I told you to go home, Y/N,” he interrupts, his fists tightening, “You’re so fucking stupid,”

Any chance to defend yourself is swiftly halted as his lips meet yours. His right hand cradles your face while the other holds you in a tight embrace. His actions speak volumes, conveying the fear he felt at the thought of you being in danger.

Considering his recent behaviour, you should push him away. After all, it wasn't long ago that he belittled you. Yet, his current actions and the fact that he just saved your life leave your moral judgment in disarray.

Slowly, your hands untuck his shirt, granting you access to run them up his bare torso and chest. A gasp escapes him when you dig your fingers into his pecs, and his open mouth invites the exploration of your tongue.

“I could have fucking lost you back there,” he whispers, his words trying to convey both frustration and concern. The way he says 'I' doesn’t escape your notice, as if you were his to lose in the first place.

“But you didn’t,” you lean back, locking eyes with him. “I’m right here because you protected me.”

He lifts you, reconnecting his lips with yours as he carries you to the bedroom, your legs wrapping around him tightly. Indulging in this with his track record feels wrong, but he's undeniably addicting and intoxicating.

Tossing you on the bed, he chases your mouth until he’s on top of you, his hands roaming all over your body, “I shouldn’t have had to protect you, you should have listened to me,” He moans when your leg rubs against his crotch as you desperately seek contact from him.

Even as his mouth trails kisses down your neck, he continues to challenge you. The dynamic that has defined your relationship for years isn't easily left behind, even after a near-death experience. The intensity between you both is undeniable, a blend of desire, frustration, and a history too intricate to understand right now.

The power shifts as you assert yourself, flipping him onto his back. Straddling him, you lean down to capture his lips once more. There's a hunger in the way you kiss him, “I didn’t want the precinct to blame me if you died and I didn’t do anything,” You tease him, smirking into the kiss.

His hands grab your ass as you grind against him, creating a sense of mutual desperation. Clothes are shed in a flurry, leaving behind fragments of the personas you wore only hours before.

"I don't know why I bother with you," he says, his tone tinged with both irritation and tenderness.

"Maybe you can't help yourself," you say, a taunting gleam in your eyes as you lean in to capture his lips again but he pushes you back so your head is on the soft pillow, spreading your legs forcefully, each of his palms holding you down by your thighs.

Licking his lips, he almost drools seeing your pussy laid bare for him like this, it was only yesterday he was buried deep inside you but he never got a taste of you. He smirks as he delves down, his nose nudging your clit softly, the sudden touch flooding heat to your core.

With his eyes staring into yours, he licks up your slit purposefully, his tongue ridgid as the tip of it reaches your nub. The eye contact is insane, the way he’s trying not to miss one change in your facial expression turns you on more.

His teeth nibble the sensitive area, making you yelp and groan at the same time, “Holy shit, Jongseong,” He was teasing you to get back for disobeying his orders, he knows what you need and he’s only giving you a taste before he takes it right back.

One of his hands alleviates the pressure from your inner thigh and trickles its way to your entrance, making you thrust your hips up, pleading for his fingers, “What do you want, hmm?” He asks, his voice velvet smooth. You buck your hips up again and mewl out but he doesn’t bite, “No, Y/N, use your words,” He places one more soft lick on your folds before retracting again, “Beg me.”

No chance in hell are you going to beg for Park Jongseong to finger you. The woman inside you wouldn’t allow it, no matter how desperate you are, you have too much pride.

Your defiance only makes him chuckle, a wicked smile graces his lips as he shakes his head in mock disapproval. His fingers, skilled and deliberate, find their way back to your entrance, teasing the edges without fully committing, “Come on, say it. Beg for it like I know you want to,” he goads, and the anticipation builds between you both.

His eyes are narrow as he looks up at you again, waiting. This is what you found so captivating about the sex you had last night, the charged energy you both get from how you play off one another.

Tutting, he circles his middle finger around your hole, applying just enough pressure for you to whine out. He waits again for the surrender he knows is inevitable.

"Fuck you, I can get myself off," You challenge him, but as you clench around nothing while he sucks your clit for a single second, you understand your words are meaningless, floating in the air with no substance because even if you can get yourself off, it won't be enough for you. You need him.

“Give in, come on, don’t be pathetic,” The words strike a nerve in you, urging you to slap him like earlier, but he slowly inserts his middle finger, curling it slightly as he drags it out and it makes you squirm under him, “See? You want it, I want to give it to you, all you have to do is ask for it.”

He makes it sound so simple and in reality, it is. Just one of his fingers is enough to have you aching for more.

The throbbing within you becomes an insistent pulse, the defiant act you put on now dissipating with each thump of your heartbeat, “Jongseong,” He smirks, knowing exactly what’s coming next, “Please, I need you,” The plea escapes your lips before you can stop it.

A triumphant glint sparkles in his eyes as he hears your soft voice, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” his middle finger returns to your canal but this time he’s adding his ring finger with it. Between the fucking he gave you last night and the arousal you’re feeling now, your entrance is already prepped from him, he’s just doing this for fun.

His digits set a rhythmic pace, he feels each inch of your walls as his mouth attaches to your clit once again, this time for a longer, more gruelling experience. He works the bud perfectly in his mouth, the perfect combination of lips and tongue.

The coil in your stomach starts to heat as his fingers hit a soft spot in your pussy repeatedly. He was unreal, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

Sensing your impending climax, Jongseong intensifies his movements, seemingly coaxing your release. His mouth and hand work in unison, skillfully stimulating every nerve in your sensitive region. The pleasure builds, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy. However, just as you teeter on the edge, he abruptly stops.

Withdrawing himself from you, he watches as your body squirms, aching for the release he has denied. Confused, you open your teary eyes, searching for an explanation. "You didn't listen to me earlier," he says as if it's a sufficient justification for withholding the orgasm you were on the verge of releasing.

“Jjongie, please fuck me,” You moan out, grabbing him so his weight is on top of you. It’s a last-ditch attempt to gain back some power in this sexcapade.

“You can’t stop begging for it now, huh?” If you weren’t so drunk for him, you would have bit back a comeback but he was right, you are so overcome with need you’re willing to do anything to get it.

Teasing you, he runs his firm length up your slit and sits it on your sensitive clit, tapping it a few times, “Tell me you’re sorry for putting yourself in danger like that,” His voice is overcome with lust and some remnants of concern as he recalls the poker game.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” You practically cry out, holding his face, “I didn’t want you to get hurt,” The confession hangs in the air, shocking him for a moment. Your sincerity, combined with the desire, results in a raw and vulnerable moment. It’s not like Jongseong thought you didn’t care about him, but the depth of your actions in entering such a crazy environment for his sake leaves him momentarily breathless.

He captures your lips with his, moving fiercely as he tries to convey the thankfulness of your selfless actions, “You’re seriously so stupid, Y/N. You shouldn’t care about me that much,” The electricity around you both shifts from pure desire to tender intimacy.

You rub his shoulders, “But I do, I don’t know why, but I do,” You say in a hushed tone, punctuating each sentence with a kiss. The words are an unexpected revelation, not even something you've consciously acknowledged to yourself. Yet, in the heat of the moment, they spill effortlessly from your lips.

Jongseong’s gaze softens, and any anger still within him crumbles away. You cared about him and he cared about you.

When you both had sex last night, he was scared when you said ‘I hate that you can’t just admit you like me’. It was as if you could see right through him in that very moment, and no one had ever done that in all his years of living. He did like you, he respected you as a colleague and a person, and he never intended to start this hate war between you both, it just happened. You were two kids eager to be the top detective, it was only natural to find you a threat to his career goals.

You reach up and stroke his face, bringing his attention back to present you, “Jongseong, please,” You reach your hand down to stroke his red-tipped cock, “Fuck me.”

Not having to be told twice, he lines up at your entrance, easing himself into you, no longer finding the need to withhold any pleasure from you. A gasp escapes your throat, mingling with his low groan. The feeling of your walls hugging him again feels incredible, “You feel so right,” The admission could be taken in two ways but he doesn’t care, the sensation of you is making his head fuzzy. He could sing your praises the whole night if you let him.

This is a complete juxtaposition to yesterday, hell, even about 10 minutes ago. The way he starts to fuck into you is so much more delicate but still forceful, it’s the perfect mixture of lust and vulnerability.

As he begins to pound into you with growing intensity, his eyes meet yours and each time he pulls back far enough to graze over your g-spot, he sees a flash of pleasure flicker over your iris’. He’s fucking you so good, you wonder if you’ll ever be able to go back to anyone else.

His arm reaches over, pulling one of the pillows from the top of the bed, he places it under your lower back, tilting your pelvis to help him effortlessly reach a new angle that has you moaning out his name, chanting it like a hymn, begging him not to stop.

Spitting on his hand, he begins to rub your clit in a harsh circle, something he learned you liked last night. He was sending you into overdrive, completely crumbling beneath him as you felt that heat in your belly once again. The difference is, this time when he feels you close to orgasm, he isn’t stopping.

“Jjongie, I’m cumming,” You warn him, spurring him on to get you off as blissfully as possible. It doesn’t take long before you’re body contracts, your walls clamping down on him. The way you’re trapping him into you brings him to the edge of his own release

His head falls back, exposing the long column of his neck, his veins standing out as he thrusts into you with more fervour, hitting you deeper. The force of his movements causes the bed to creak loudly under you. You’re just lucky the headboard was mounted on the wall or else he would have created dents.

You lean up to kiss his neck, licking up his protruding vein causing him to let out a low purr. It all becomes too much for him and he releases inside of you, his hips jutting erratically due to the intensity of his climax. Ropes of his cum shoot inside of you and it seems never-ending, the grip he has on your hips will certainly leave half-moon indentations in your skin.

Panting heavily, he collapses onto you, your breaths and heartbeats the only music dancing around the room. The weight of him feels perfect on you like you can support him easily. You nuzzle your face into his neck as your arms reach to hug him, one hand stroking his back softly to calm him down from his high.

Both of your hearts sync up, the once rapid beating now slowing down as you catch your breaths. The quiet aftermath and weight of unspoken words hang between you, both knowing that the complexities of this relationship just escalated.

He plants scattered kisses along your collarbone before getting up. You still have a little niggle in your brain which tells you this will be a repeat of last night.

But as quickly as Jongseong retreats from the room, he’s back with a face cloth, drenched in warm water. He’s trying to make it up to you, the guilt he felt when he left you to look after yourself when he knew that was his job was unspeakable. The man spent all night cursing himself for treating you that way.

“I’m sorry I was such a prick, especially with all this stuff,” He wipes your pussy gently, collecting the mix of your fluids as he apologises, “It was really shitty. I promise I’m not usually that much of a dick.”

He never meets your gaze as he speaks, yet, you feel the sincerity of his words. Grabbing his working hand you gain his attention and smile softly at him, “You’ll just need to keep making it up to me.” At your words, he gulps and his stomach summersaults, the prospect of more times like this is something he could only dream of.

“I don’t know where we go from here,” Jongseong admits, his voice vulnerable. The truth of his words settles, the experience you just shared unravelled something profound, something you both didn’t know how to navigate.

Nodding slowly to echo his concerns, “I don’t either,” The response is truthful. You had no fucking clue what this meant for both of you, all you know is that your dynamic has shifted, “We can work it out together though, right?” You offer in optimism.

Jongseong shoots his eyes to yours, a mix of uncertainty and yearning sitting in his gaze.

Suddenly, Jongseong’s burner phone dings a few times. You urge him to grab it because if it’s his undercover phone, that means it can only be one person. Reaching over to grab his trousers, he pulls the phone out and reads the messages, eyes widening and his smile follows.

He faces it to you, allowing you to read it.

Kim Kwangmin:

8.12pm:

You can hold your own kid, you’re not as stupid as you look.

I’m impressed.

I’ve got a business proposition for you. Tomorrow. 8am at the lounge.

You look at each other in sear shock, not quite believing after everything that transpired that the Kim Kwangmin was ready to offer Jongseong a way into his drug smuggling, a way to get him put behind bars.

“You fucking did it,” You whisper astounded.

“We did it,” He states, bringing your chin up to look at him, placing a kiss on your lips, sealing your mission case closed.

#enha smut #enhypen smut #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #park jongseong x smut #park jongseong x reader #jay x reader #jay smut #aj writes #enha x reader

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yandere-writer-momo · 1 month

Text

Yandere Short Stories:

A Confession to Make

Yandere Florist (Callum) x Fem Reader

Blood red flowers laid out in a maple wood work desk, their boood red petal reminiscent of Callum’s past as a hit man. The florist hummed as he carefully cut each stem and trimmed the leaves of each flower to arrange a bouquet for his favorite customer… he wondered if (your name) understood the meaning behind these vibrant flowers and how they were a loud declaration of his love for her.

Callum sighed dreamily while he organized each chrysanthemum with white wax flowers, eucalyptus, thistle, and red hypericum berries. He truly wanted to put a lot of thought into each flower in this bouquet in hopes that his feelings finally went through to his beloved m’eudail.

Callum had been after (your name) the moment she enter his shop all those months ago. To him, she was dainty and perfect… a true lady who had easily captivated him with her shy smile and innocent eyes. Callum wanted her in ways he’d never wanted anyone else before… it was nearly carnal from how badly he wanted to bend her over and stuff her fat with his kids- woah. He had just gotten a bit to in over his head there for a moment…

The melodic dingle of the front door bell broke him from his musings. The red head quickly peaked his head out from his workroom to spot (your name) in the doorway.

“Good morning, Callum!” (Your name) giggled at the scarred man whose cheeks flushed red. “I saw that you have some new flowers in stock.”

“Give me one moment and I’ll tell you what each one is!” Callum chuckled, his green eyes scanned over her small frame in awe. (Your name) was always so cute!

Callum finished the last few touches to his lovely bouquet with a smile. The bouquet would no doubt swallow (your name), but he couldn’t help the excitement that seeped into his love stricken heart.

“Hey, I put something together for you.” Callum hid the bouquet behind his back as he smiled warmly at (your name). The young woman perked up once she spotted the bouquet. A bashful smile now on her face when Callum gently placed the red bouquet in her hands.

“You made me a bouquet?” (Your name) admired each flower in awe. It appeared Callum put a lot of thought and care into each piece of this arrangement. “It’s so beautiful… the red kind of reminds me of your hair.”

Callum chuckled before he bit his lip. It seemed (your name) didn’t understand the romantic language of flowers… but that was okay! He was willing to outright admit his interest in her!

“Well, these are much more than flowers…” Callum towered over (your name) as he pointed to each flower. “Red chrysanthemums for passion and love, wax flowers for a wish of lasting success, red hypericum berries, thistle, and eucalyptus for protection.”

(Your name) blushed when Callum grabbed her hands, the bouquet the only item in the way of the two of them from hugging.

“In other words, I’m confessing to you.” Callum whispered softly, his green eyes filled with adoration. “So what do you say? Would you be mine, m’eudail?”

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earthtooz · 10 months

Text

x : AUGUST 12TH :*+ﾟ

in which: reo sees his birthday marked down on your calender, and it fills him with the courage to win you back. or, he's hiding from the paparazzi... in your apartment, for whatever reason.

warnings: 2k wc, gn!reader, exes to lovers but they're very much in love, they kiss (eww), minor angst and minor embarrassment for reader but it's very cute, very much fluff and happy endings, professional soccer player reo, characters aged to be around 21+

a/n: I LOVE REO. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!

August 12th used to be one of the most important dates on your calender. Now it is one that brings forth bittersweet thoughts and memories whenever you think too hard on it, reminiscing a love that you had to let go long ago, despite how badly you wanted to keep him.

Mikage Reo’s name used to be stamped loud and proud beneath the date, with a heart that you hastily scribbled on due to the awkward angle of the page. His name is still on there, just without the heart, and merely in capitalised letters of your handwriting.

You don’t know why you need to record it down because you remember it regardless, the set of numbers etched in the crevices of your mind. In fact, when August first hit and you were planning the month ahead, the act of recording down Reo’s birthday was a second-hand instinct, and when you did so without realising, a little pool of embarrassment and hurt developed in your chest. You didn’t even have the guts to cross it out either, despite it being almost seven months since you split.

Not a day has passed without you thinking about him, clearly.

But it was nothing to be embarrassed about because no one will ever think too much about it, especially not Reo, because he has no reason to ever step foot in your apartment ever again. If he ever saw it, you might just wither away.

So why on earth was he here now, sitting on one of your kitchen stools? The one that he used to always sit on when he came to see you when you were still dating with the reasoning that it ‘gave him a better view of you whilst you were scurrying around’.

Now you are ever aware of his gaze on you, entranced whilst fixing him a mere glass of water.

Sliding it over to him on the marble countertop, he takes it with a grateful smile. “Thank you for allowing me to hide here, and I'm sorry about bringing you into all of this.”

“No problem, you got lucky that i have nothing better to do today,” you sigh, trying to tune out the clamours of the paparazzi that were residing outside of your apartment complex. Wandering over to the balcony window, you see that the swarm hasn’t decreased from when you last checked.

Your poor, clueless neighbours. None of them deserved to be dragged into this. You wonder when it can all settle down.

“Reo?” You murmur. He glances over at you immediately, attentive purple eyes bright and wide in their curiosity. “Why did you come here out of all places?”

“You’re…” he falters. “You’re the first person I thought of, and I just so happened to be nearby.”

“Nearby? There’s nothing to do around my neighbourhood. What could you possibly have to do here?”

He looks away, shamefully staring down at his glass of water. “Errands. Stuff.”

“Okay,” you trail off, not wanting to prod further. “So how are you thinking of getting out of this situation?”

“Does your apartment have another way out?”

“Unfortunately not.”

“Well unless you want me to jump from your window, then my only way out is to wait,” he says with a shrug and you pinch the bridge of your nose. The clamours of the crowd below can be heard even on your second-level home, and no matter how badly you wanted to return to your work, a certain ex of yours is only another reason for your headache.

Since the breakup, you never thought Reo would ever be here again, however, fate seems to have pulled peculiar strings to bring him back to you- on his birthday too.

You won’t admit that this all feels a little set up. Perhaps it was the universe mocking you for not being able to stop loving him, despite it being you who forcibly let him go so he could fulfil his soccer ambitions in England.

The last time you saw him, he was crying at your doorstep, reluctant to go and to let you go. It is a sight that will always haunt you, especially when you then shut the door in his face and ultimately, ending your relationship.

Would you let him go again if you had the chance? No. Reo won’t ever know that, though.

You doubt he wants you back.

“Maybe you needed a better disguise if you wanted to escape the paparazzi,” you mutter.

Reo fiddles with his sunglasses. “Don’t scorn a man who just wanted to go out. I can’t even do anything normally nowadays anymore, not even in Japan.”

“Well, yeah, you’re kind of a big shot, Mr-Signed-With-Manshine-City,” you huff. "It's like high school and your fangirls all over again."

“You remember my team?”

“Why wouldn’t I? It's all anyone talks about, especially after the World Cup.”

“And you listened?”

“Of course I did,” you confess, no louder than a whisper. “I’m happy for you, Reo. You're really amazing.”

Something about your sentimental statement makes the purple-haired frown, looking away as an obligatory ‘thank you’ slips from his lips.

There’s a quip resting on the tip of your tongue about it being his birthday, but it slides back down your throat with the ease of paper, cutting you in the process.

“Can I request something from you?” You question.

“Anything," the athlete looks over at you with hopeful eyes.

“Since you’re using my house to hide in, can I have your Netflix password so we can watch a movie or something?” You murmur, “something’s telling me that you’ll be here for a while.”

He laughs, bright and exuberant and boyish that it makes your yearning expand tenfold. “Sure, as long as I get to pick what we watch.”

Your heartstrings soften a little, “fine. I have popcorn somewhere so let me get that out.”

It only takes one movie for the clamour outside to disappear. You’re sure that your neighbours called the police at some point too given then flash of red and blue that illuminated onto your walls, but there was little conflict, and eventually, the quiet returned. You should be grateful for it, really, because your headache can calm and you can get back to doing your work, but it also means that this is the end of yours and Reo's paths. He’ll leave your apartment, and then Japan, and then your life will return to the seven month-long limbo that it was without him, with possibly no due date this time.

He stays around until the end of the movie, however, and when it’s over, he stands with a huff, hands on his knees to help push him up. If you weren't too focused on your dread, you'd have noticed the subtle reluctance clinging to him.

“I ‘ought to be going now, I’ve been in your hair long enough,” sighs the soccer player. “Thank you for allowing me over.”

“It wasn’t a problem,” you mutter. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“Likewise. you lo-” Reo’s eyes widen before he shuts his mouth, visibly shaking the sentence away as you’re filled with an invasive sense of curiosity. You want to pry his words out of his mouth, but you don’t think that’s appropriate for your current relationship. “I’ll see you sometime.”

“Yeah. I’ll be here.”

He nods. During the time of your conversation, the two of you had made it to your kitchen and to your horror, Reo stops right before your calender. He glances at it and has to do a double-take, making sure that his eyes hadn’t failed him.

How will you recover from this one?

Reo turns to you, eyes and smile soft and so so warm. “You still have my birthday marked down.”

“Oh. You’re right!” You laugh awkwardly. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you. I’m honoured you remember.”

“Oh my goodness, please shut up,” you hide your face with one hand and Reo laughs harder.

“Do you remember how old I’m turning as well?”

“We’re the same age! Of course I'd remember-”

“-do you have a present for me? You know I love presents.”

“Go buy your own damn presents, you multimillionaire.”

He laughs harder and you almost want to chase him out of your house. “But I like it when they’re from other people!”

“I don’t have a gift for you, Reo, now can you please shut up?”

“If you don’t have a present then can I ask you for one thing?”

“What is it?”

“A date. Tomorrow, at your favourite place downtown.”

The light, cheery environment dims and you find your breath getting lodged in your throat. “Reo… I- we, we shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” He asks, “do you still love me?”

“I have your stupid birthday on my calender and no one else’s, not even mine, so yes I do still love you.”

He grabs your hands and you feel weak in the knees, clasping onto the warmth you had grown so familiar with. “Then another chance, please, that’s all I ask for.”

“I let you go for your sake, you shouldn’t have someone like me dragging you back whilst you’re in England. Didn't you see how successful you were without me?” You mutter, thinking back to the night that you let him go, recalling all the pain you felt.

And how you might relive it again tonight.

“Dragging me back?” he parrots, voice slightly strained. “I thought about you the entire time I was abroad, every training session, every time I scored a goal, I thought about doing it all for you. It might have hurt me to not have you there with me, but it killed me to know that I didn’t have you at all.”

Reo rests his forehead against yours and you close your eyes, basking in the intimacy that you never thought you could ever experience again with him. “And it killed me even more to know that you wouldn’t be waiting there for me when I came home. You know who was there instead? Stupid Zantetsu, and a few high school friends, but not you.”

“I love Zantetsu though, we get coffee together all the time,” you comment quietly. “He told me that he was going to pick you up.”

“And I can’t believe you didn’t even think of going with him.”

“Exes don’t go to the airport to pick each other up.”

“So be my lover again,” pleads Reo. “Be mine again, be here for me every time I return to Japan.”

“Is it what you want?"

“A thousand times yes.”

You sigh through your nose, memorising the feeling of his forehead against yours one last time before parting from him. “Then pick me up tomorrow, at half past six, and we can go downtown.”

His smile could rival that of a thousand suns, and just seeing it is enough to cure your heart.

“Okay,” he nods, a dreamy sort of look settling in the purple hues of Reo’s gaze. “Okay! I'll be here, without paparazzi this time, and no one will disrupt our date, I'll make sure of it.”

“One more thing before you leave. Stay here!” You command before scurrying through your house and into the study to retrieve a pen. Uncapping it, you then scribble a little heart on the calender, right next to Mikage Reo’s name.

You don’t miss the look of pure elation on his face.

“Call me. My number hasn’t changed.”

“Okay, I will, I will. Watch out for it.”

“Then I look forward to it.”

“Now I really don’t want to leave,” he whines, gently pressing you against the wall with his hands holding onto your shoulders. “It wouldn’t be gentlemanly of me to ask to stay the night, would it?”

“No, but, I think we’re beyond your awkward gentleman-liness.”

“Then, I have permission to do this, right?”

He presses his mouth to yours, hot and needy, you wonder if he’s trying to swallow you whole so you really can’t ever leave again.

“Happy Birthday, Reo,” you murmur against him.

#reo mikage x reader #reo x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #reo mikage #mikage reo #reo fluff #reo x reader fluff #blue lock

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