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raestromboli · 2 days

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BIKINI CARWASH. | CHRIS STURNIOLO.

ヾ₊˚ ୨ৎ — synopsis. chris and matt come over to get their car washed.

ヾ₊˚ ୨ৎ — cw. 18+, dom!chris, college student fem!reader, smut, established relationship, language, clit slapping, fingering, overstim., reader and chris are brats, they get interrupted :c, mdni !!

ヾ₊˚ ୨ৎ — notes. hii guys first post ?? u and chris both have bad tempers im sorry lol😅 but pls like and subscribe, i hope yall enjoy <3

chris had no reason to beg matt to drive him to a bikini carwash, it wasn’t their scene, but after all it was only because of you.

it was a warm and sunny day, only a few days into the new school year and making it perfect to wear bikinis and host a carwash fundraiser.

your boyfriend’s brother, matt, had always complained that his van was dirty yet was somehow ‘ too busy ‘ to get it washed. and when you mentioned the fundraiser to chris one day, he was up on his feet and blabbering matt’s ear off about it. reluctantly he agreed after many pleases and whines.

chris’ nose was stuck up in the air as he looked amongst the crowd of cars to find you holding a sign up in the air. he snickered to himself once he found you, grinning when he read, ‘ CarWash 4 A Good Cause; 20 Bucks Each Service! ‘

his grin only doubled in size when he saw your face. you clearly were exhausted from the sun, but just as beautiful. your body was a little glowy from sweat, barefoot on the sidewalk and drenched hair framing your pretty face. the tiny orange bikini you had on made his eyes widen like saucers.

his eyes were trained on you the whole time matt was pointed in the direction of lines and lines of cars parked and getting them washed.

chris didn’t care about the flock of girls scurrying to other cars with soap dripping on their thighs and arms, he just watched you in amusement and slight guilt as you wipe your forehead with the back of your hand with a small frown on your face.

your arms dropped with the sign, arms tensing with exhaustion. you remember being excited to get into your bikini one last time and wash your boyfriend’s car, but the sun and lack of water was getting to you. the honking and feminine giggles made you overstimulated so you turned on your heel, deciding to take a break.

tiredly walking up the driveway, it was then that you notice a certain van with a certain somebody in the passenger seat glancing over at you. you giggle to yourself when he offers you a small, tight lipped smile. looking over at the boy in the driver seat, you watch as matt gives you a wave with the hand dangling on the outside of the van. you waved back with a smile growing on your face as you felt your day and energy start to pick back up.

just a few steps later you stood at the passenger's side of the van, bending forward and placing your hands on your mid-thigh as you peer into the vehicle. ”you boys here for the carwash?” you smiled sweetly, knowing the answer but wanting to play the part for your boyfriend’s amusement.

chris grinned meekly, nodding while his eyes shamelessly took in what he could with your position. “yes ma’am.”

you look over your shoulder and back at chris and matt, “well, if you pull up here, i’m sure one of the girls will happily wash your car.” you smiled politely when your boyfriend squinted at you.

he looked over in front of him, matt’s head whipping shamelessly to silently ogle. there were many girls scattering around the sorority house lawn with suds of soap clinging to their half naked body to accommodate other customers. chris sneered, looking something like an angry puppy, and shrugged.

“nah, they seem pretty busy. you’ll help us though, right?” chris tilted his head, peering at you with half lidded eyes and a small smirk.

you purse your lips and pretend to think long and hard about it, even though you’re fighting back a giddy smile. “i guess so,”

you glanced over at matt, who looked slightly uneasy. “don��t worry matt, i’ll have someone here with me.” you giggled when his shoulders puffed out and he let out a thank you.

you called out your sorority sister’s name, watching her wink at the boy she was sweet talking in the lawn before motioning her your way. she instructed matt to pull in and park at a free spot in the driveway.

as you walked, chris prayed that the tent in his pants was not becoming so obvious as his eyes locked in the way your ass peaked out in those bright orange bikini bottoms. he swallowed until his mouth felt dry and looked away, not wanting to get riled up with his brother right next to him.

you and your sorority sister immediately got to work, bending over and dunking your hand into the bucket of cold and refreshing soapy water then pull your hand out with a comically large soaked sponge.

glancing at the girl, she seemed too busy smiling at matt who nervously slipped a folded bill in her bikini top. you bent forward, resting your forearms on the window. “hi handsome.” you greeted chirpily.

chris wasn’t for pet names, but something about the way you call him handsome gets him going.

“hey. sorry we were a little late, this fucking goof had to shit before we left.” chris rolled his eyes and nodded his head towards matt. you laughed his bluntness.

“it’s okay, just glad you could make it.” you smiled. you both were too engrossed in the small conversation that you didn’t notice matt and his little friend staring right at you and chris.

“hey!” she yelled, cackling as she rounded the car, dunking her hand in the bucket and splashing you with water.

squealing, you reluctantly began scrubbing the dirt off matt’s van. your friend mostly cleaned around the driver’s side to flirt with matt, so you hung around stealing fleeting glancing and kisses on the cheek while you scrub the van.

you started off with the hood, maintaining eye contact with doe eyes as you and your sorority sister made a show of leaning over the van, pressing your breasts against it and scrubbing away.

moving round the van, chris gulped when you stood on your toes, ringing soapy water onto the top of the van. he wasn’t able to see your face, but had a solid view of your chest slightly jiggling in that tiny bikini as you scrubbed the dirt off, water dripping off the sponge and landing down your tits and some onto your torso . it felt like a dream to chris.

his skin crawled with lust, eyes glued onto your body. you always had an impact on him and it made him feel so weak, yet in love.

chris cleared his throat, shutting his eyes and exhaling shakily as he glanced over at his brother. if he wasn’t so hot and bothered, he would’ve laughed at the way matt looked just as nervous as he did.

he opened his eyes after attempting to get his mind out the gutter, only to be slapped in the face with the scene in front of him. you were bent down, ass facing him as you soaked more water onto the sponge. the string on your bottoms were thin, so he could see the way your folds slightly peaked out from beneath the material.

“jesus fucking christ.” chris grumbled, taking his hands from his lap and rubbing his warm face in sexual frustration. he heard matt grunt like he couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“don’t use jesus’ name in vain, you dickhead.” he scoffed, slapping his brother’s arm. chris, not wanting to make a scene, rolled his eyes before removing his hands off his face and placing them discreetly over the tent that formed in his blue jeans.

“matt, i’ll fucking kill you.” chris whined in frustration. he wanted so badly to take you up your sorority house and into your tiny bedroom to fuck you gracefully in that even tinier bed, and the fact that he couldn’t made him stubborn and grouchy.

you worked your way to the back of the van with your friend, catching the way she eyed you with amusement.

“what?” you giggled.

“your boyfriend looks like he’s gonna bust in his pants.” she laughed, brows raising at you when you shook your head.

“so does matt, girl. you should ask for his number.”

she shook her head and scrunched her face up, “nah, he’s cute but he talked about his dog way too fucking much.”

you laughed behind your hand, of course he did.

after cleaning the back, your friend brought the hose that snakes throughout the driveway and sprayed the car down. lastly, you took a soft towel and wiped away the small water droplets off their rearview mirrors. you two were finally done, bodies exhausted more than ever.

when you wave goodbye to your friend, you turn your attention to chris who took out a wad of cash in his wallet, fingering out a twenty dollar bill. he held out his hand and gestured two fingers to put yours on top of his. he placed the bill in your palm, taking the rest of his cash and tucking it into the corner of your bikini top.

“chris.” you warned.

“what? it’s a tip.” he giggled. you let it slide, but chris knew you’d slip that cash back into his pockets one way or another.

you watched chris mumble something inaudible to matt before getting out the van and shutting the door, eyeing you down the whole time with half-lidded eyes.

“what’s wrong?” you asked worriedly when your boyfriend wrapped an arm around your bare waist, walking you both up the driveway and towards your sorority house.

chris shook his head, “i can’t leave without fucking you.”

“can you talk any louder?” you squealed, slapping his shoulder and looking around nervously.

he took you up your room and waited no time to close the door behind you, pining you against it and immediately pressing his lips on yours. chris kissed you soft, his pace quickening as his hands wander around your body. he smoothed his large palms around your waist before sneaking down and grabbing a handful of your ass.

you gripped onto the plain, white fabric of his tee as you stood on your toes, whining in his mouth when he spread your legs with his knee and slotted his leg between yours. you felt the rough denim of his jeans scratch against your thighs.

chris trailed his kisses to your cheek and toward your ear. he grabbed onto your wrist, slowly guiding it to his bulge.

“fuck, see what you did to me? been like this ever since i saw your pretty ass.” chris kissed your earlobe and groaned in your ear when you squeezed him gently.

you giggled despite yourself, “‘m sorry.” you cooed, a hand coming up to scratch at his scalp lovingly while he created purple marks on your neck.

chris tapped your waist and you jumped, your boyfriend catching you with his hands under your thighs. he kissed you again all while laying you on your bed, climbing on top of you and resting his forearms on both sides of your head. pulling away, he smirked at the sight of your cheeks red and lips swollen and glossy.

he kissed down your neck, between your breasts, your stomach, and to your thighs. chris spread your legs, pushing them up so he could lay featherlight kisses on your inner thighs. he nipped at the fat while a hand snuck up to rub tight, slow circles over your clit.

“chris, cmon.” you grumbled shyly, raking your hand through his hair. in return, chris gave you a rather hard bite on your thigh and making you yelp before you smacked the back of his head. he giggled before moving up to kiss your pussy lightly over your bikini.

chris licked a bold stripe up your mound, eyes staring up at you with a dead look in his eyes.

you whimpered under your breath as your boyfriend slid your orange bikini to the side, keeping two fingers hooked around it while he spat onto your cunt. then he dove right in. he started off with slow licks around your pussy, ignoring your clit and enjoying the soft pleas that came out your mouth. he left kisses starting from your hole, getting his lips sticky and trailing up to wrap his lips around your clit.

your boyfriend ate you out like there was no tomorrow. his chin was wet, the tip of his nose slick and shiny. he whined against your cunt, mumbling things you couldn’t understand because of the moans that bounced off the thin walls. chris hugged your thighs to spread you open some more.

“fuck. . ‘er so pretty.” chris murmured, removing his face from your pussy and leaving wet kisses on your thigh. he replaced his mouth with his hand, rubbing your clit in soft motions and watching your face contort in pleasure.

“chris.” you gasped, grabbing onto his arm suddenly as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you.

“nah, hold it.” he said, placing hickeys on your thigh and quickening his pace on your clit.

you whined, getting frustrated as the tightness in your lower stomach started becoming harder to ignore. tugging on his hair, chris stopped his motions on your clit and stared at you with a deadpan expression on his face. if you weren’t so worked up, you would’ve laughed at the way half of his face was shiny with your slick.

chris slapped your clit, making you jolt and gasp in surprise. “don’t fuckin’ pull my hair.” he grumbled, slapping your cunt one more time to get his warning across before soothing the sting with diving back in to your pussy.

your orgasm bubbled up quickly, making you reach out and attempt to push his head away. “‘m g-gonna cum.” you whimpered as his assault on your clit never stopped. he didn’t say anything but raise up a hand, letting you intertwine your fingers together. he knew you got squirmy when you were about to cum.

your thigh shook against chris’ head as you came, crying his name out softly as he ate you out through your high. he moaned against your cunt the whole time, only milking you out more.

chris only let you go when you slapped his head. laying his head on your thigh, he smiled at you giddily.

“good?” he asked breathlessly, thumbing swiping across your knuckles in a calming matter.

“if you tell me to hold that shit in one more time, i’m kicking you out.” you glared down at him. chris’ face fell, his hand letting go of yours as he hugged your thighs again.

he glared back at you, “well that’s great ‘cause i’m giving you one more and you’re gonna fuckin’ hold it.”

“wait, no chri—“ you got cut off when your boyfriend spat directly on your clit, gasping at the amount of pleasure it sent through your body. chris knew how sensitive you got after just one orgasm, so having another felt like punishment itself.

he had no mercy on your sensitive pussy, licking your clit ‘til it was puffy and sticking his tongue in your hole before humming like it was the best meal he had ever eaten. safe to say, chris was just as petty and stubborn as you were.

“chrisss, fuck, ‘m sorry.” you whined desperately as tears started to form in your waterline. you felt your orgasm creeping up on you rather quickly, and knowing chris, he was dead serious about having you hold your orgasm in.

he let go of one your legs to tease your hole, letting your slick wet his fingers before pushing one in. chris smirked as you moaned, your voice breaking.

you let tears fall down your cheeks, “baby i’m sorry.” you pouted, holding onto his hair for dear life as you tried your hardest not to cum.

chris started to feel a bit bad, but never stopped his movements on your sweet pussy. “fine, i’ll let you cum.” he giggled, his tone playful as if he wasn’t making you melt into a puddle on your bed. the audacity on this man was crazy.

but as soon as you could thank him, chris completely halted everything. he slid his fingers out of you, making you groan out his name and. he was just as furious as you as he stood up on his knees, taking his clean hand to fish out his phone.

of course, matt just had to ruin the moment. sighing, chris gave you an apologetic look as he answered the phone, putting it on speaker. that didn’t stop him from giving you that second orgasm though, because he started rubbing your clit in figure eight motions. it was like moth to a flame.

“hello? chris?” matt announced, annoyance laced in his tone.

“fuck do you want matt?” chris spoke while he sent a glare down at you, silently telling you to not make a single sound. to make things worse, he quickened his pace.

“i’ve been waiting in this parking lot for ten fucking minutes! where the hell are you?”

chris bit his lip, trying to not outward moan as he took in how fucked out he made you look. “i’ll be right out in a minute. chill out on me you fucking freak.” he rolled his eyes.

matt yelled something inaudible at chris before hanging up. he threw his phone somewhere across the room and smirked down you.

“you gonna cum?” he asked condescending.

you fought back moans to give him an answer, “y-you gonna let me?”

chris didn’t reply, only laying a kiss on your calf and slightly applying more pressure onto your clit. that seemed to be your final straw because you arched your back, hips pushing into the bed to get away from his fingers as you came, hard. you whined your boyfriend’s name like a mantra.

he thought you looked especially pretty right now. your eyes glossy, cheeks pink with a pout on your lips. the orange on your bikini top complimented your skin and it didn’t help the tent in chris’ pants go down any more.

when you came back from your high, chris slid your bottoms back over your puffy cunt, patting it for good measures. he waved bye at it with an innocent smile.

sitting up, you smacked the back of his head, “what the hells wrong with you?” you scowled.

chris, without a beat, gapped at you, “i just gave you head two fucking times and you’re mad at me? i should be given the greatest boyfriend award right now.”

you glared at him, not wanting to give into his antics any longer. suddenly, chris brought his hand up to his face, sucking the finger that was just in you while maintaining eye contact.

“you’re nasty.” you mumbled.

“you can’t even walk, dumbass.” chris retorted. as much as you wanted him to be wrong, he was completely right. your legs felt like jello.

he took his phone out his pocket and sighed when he saw matt blowing up his phone. you peaked over and saw, too.

“i can’t even return the favor?” you pouted.

chris cupped your cheek lovingly, “it’s fine, we won’t have the time to. i love ya’, okay?” he pulled you closer to him so he could coax wet kisses on your cheeks. whining, you gripped onto his chin and pulled him into a kiss.

he tasted like you and strangely, it only made you fall harder for him.

“i love you, too. text me when you get home?” you used all your strength to wrap your arms around his neck, smiling at each other like lovesick idiots.

“yeah—“ chris was about to say something more when he felt his phone buzzing, indicating a call most definitely from matt.

“oh my fucking god!”

#sturniolotriplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #raestromboli #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo #hai this is my first fic don’t hate😅

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eternaldecisions · 2 days

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MAKE YOU MINE. — Chris Sturniolo.

₊˚⊹⋆ PAIRING. Bfb!Hockey Captain!Chris & Cheerleader!Popular!femreader.

₊˚⊹⋆ SUMMARY. No long due everyone knew who you are, the popular captain of the cheerleader team, but who also knew you, was your bestfriend’s brother, the captain of the hockey team, Christopher Sturniolo, he was pretty disputed between girls, but it wasn’t hard to make him yours, but you needed to do a lot to have him officially wrapped around your finger.

₊˚⊹⋆ WARNINGS. Cursing, mentions of parting, sorta enemies to lovers trope, mentions of sex, sexual jokes, no actual smut yet, sorta of manipulation? first part of the series.

A/N - welcome to the mym series!

I wanna lay you down

I wanna string you out

I wanna make you mine

“So, did you hear it?” No, I didn’t the only thing I could hear was the sounds of the bell ringing for the next class, students flooding the hallways as they try to make their way to the class, you and Sarah were only leaning against the lockers, letting the zone calm down before you both could go to the classes.

“What’s the new rumor?”

“Apparently Chris and Rachel had sex last night, at John’s party.” Sarah comments, not in a too loud tone, you knew how much this school would kill to know every little gossip that circulated around the popular kids.

“Rachel!?” Exclaiming, taking a look around hoping she wasn’t around, Rachel is one of the girls that is in your cheerleader team, she never really liked you, why? because you are the captain of the team.

Yes, she tried really hard to be the chosen one, but luck wasn’t on her side that day, I guess.

“Yes, and I guess she is now going around the school telling her little victory.” Sarah sing songs the last phrase, as a light chuckle escapes her lips.

“We know how much a whore she likes to be.”

“But hey, soonly Chris will know she was telling their business to everybody, and he will cut off things with her, I just know that!” Sarah looks away for a second, her gaze taking a look around.

“Anyway, She’ll get what she deserves and-“ You’re cut off by Chris and his group entering the hallways, melodies of various laughters felling your ears.

You couldn’t deny it, Chris itself knew he was fine, and he knew it so well by the many girls in the college wanting him, but, he was a bit more reserved to himself, he never had a really serious relationship with someone, and I wonder why.

Your eyes are fixated in Chris group, giggles and smirks going straight to your direction, all you could do was roll your eyes.

"Hey!" Sarah snaps at you, reality washing over your body again.

"I said who are you most excited to see at Sam's party?"

“Uh, I don’t know, I don’t feel like going in first place.”

“You’re kidding, a party is never the same when you aren’t there!” Sarah utters, she wouldn’t believe you weren’t going, you never skipped parties, why skip this one?

Many reasons floated in your head, and one of them is Chris and his group.

FLASHBACKS.

The guys locker room, how did you get there? Being popular and smart is a really big bonus if you crave male attention, but you were just there for a particular reason.

As you had left pe you realized your friend, Waylon, had left his sweater in the bleachers, and with being a good friend, you were giving it back to him.

Walking thru the corridors, hearing different male deep voices echoing thru your ears, every little step you took it brought you close to the guys.

Silently walking, you lean against a locker, as you hear your name being used in a conversation filled with laughter.

“Yo, the cheerleader captain has to be the lame ass girl ever.”

“Yeah bro, how is she even popular?”

“People like her for her body, we all know that, but i bet once you remove her push up bra there’s nothing under it.”

Laughter & more laughter filling your ears.

You aren’t surprised, and you aren’t also shocked that mostly of the words coming out of their mouth, is from Chris friend group.

“I only know about her because she is Colby’s sister, and because she is the captain of the team, but c’mon, don’t say shit like that because you never got in her pants.” Chris comments, a smirk spreading across your face, the popular guy respecting you and putting manners into their team, he really knew how to be a man.

But no, you couldn’t like him or think about him that way, he was your brother’s best friend, plus, you both never really liked each other by you and him bikering every chance you had when he was over your house for Colby.

Footsteps creeping up in the marble black floor start coming close to your direction, dropping Waylon’s sweater on the floor and quickly making your way out of the room.

Waylon’s stepping in to the place you were, taking a good look around, grabbing his sweater off the floor, before stating.

“Weird, thought somebody was here.”

FLASHBACKS ENDED.

“There has to be something going on to you make the decision not to go!” She articulates, a silly grin spreading across her face, Sarah could read you like a book, she knew when something was off.

“My brother and his stupid friends are making comments about me in the boy’s locker room, and trust me they are bad.”

“Really? Are you skipping this event for their dumbass group? You never let yourself down and this won’t be the time, so just forget about them, and instead have fun before ending college.”

A soft smile is formed in your face, taking your gaze to the popular friend group, taking a deep breath before starting to walk off to class.

“Okay, new season started and we know what it means, new routine started!” Your coach, Marjorie mentions, earning grunts and sighs of disappointment from your team.

Every Wednesday Afternoons there was always Cheerleader practice, the same time Chris had practice, such a coincidence for Rachel coming late to all practices that day.

“Sorry, I’m late miss!” Rachel voice is echoed, Elena and Audrey starting to whisper among them about her, nobody in your team really liked her, for a fact, everyone would call her Regina George but 10x worse.

Rachel’s neck was covered in dark hickeys, her matte lipstick smeared, her wicked grin placed in her face like no other.

And on the other side, there was Chris coach, Charles, yelling at his team like there was no tomorrow, everyone around the campus always felt that Marjorie and Charles had a little bit of connection for both being coaches, and honestly, they do have.

Wednesday’s are always the worst days for a cheerleader, principal for a captain, being the one having to lead the whole team and guide them wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t also easy 2 hours of practice.

But sure it was fun tiring Rachel.

Drinking the last sips of water in your bottle, not satisfied enough, you call it a day, packing up your things starting to leave the girls changing room.

A sigh of relief for the whole day being finished, escapes your lips, suddenly, mid way thru the dark corridor, a male figure bumps into you, looking up, your face to face, with the school finest hockey captain.

Christopher Sturniolo.

“M’bad, I didn’t see you.” He remarks, he looked more handsome then he ever was, his hair strands forming little curls, the smell of his Dior Sauvage cologne filling up your nostrils, his plumped swollen red lips begging to be kissed, and if he asked, you would smooch his whole face without a doubt.

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Aren’t you the captain of the cheerleader te-“

“Sure I am.” You didn’t give time to him finish his phrase, slightly giving attitude to him, his signature smirk started forming in his lips.

“Well I know you.” He remarks, his hand combs thru his hair, as he interlocks eyes with you, an intense eye contact being shared between you both.

“Aren’t you Rachel’s boyfriend?”

“I wouldn’t call it that, but sure.” He replied, rolling his eyes, the intense eye contact is broke by him.

“I thought you could do it better than her.”

“Why you think that?”

“I can perfectly hear your conversation with Colby, talking about the girls you would get on their pants, and I remember perfectly fine when you said Rachel wasn’t all that.” Spilling it all you heard when he was over your house, your brother and him having deep conversations about women or even who they would hook up, you had everything figured out, and you surely did share a wall with your brother.

Chris stays silent, his jaw became clenched, he gripped onto his bag with more strength each second, a chuckle escape his lips, you look at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“You know a lot don’t you?”

“I do.”

“You better keep that mouth shut if you don’t want me to ruin your little popular life.” He advises, the power look in your face disappears, you didn’t want look vulnerable in front of him, you didn’t want him to think you were that easy to stay weak.

“And how would you ruin-“

“You really think I don’t know what you been doing? You’ve hooked up with mostly of my team, I know what they say about you, and I know you aren’t that though girl you are in the exterior, but I do know you are as weak as much as you were in middle school.” He utters, he takes his left hand to move away your hair, having a better look of your exposed neck, his slender finger going up to your face, caressing your cheek.

“You better stay silent sweetheart.”

And with that, he begins walking away leaving you there alone, confused , was he really gonna try ruin your reputation? or was it all talk shit? thinking of the recent interaction with him, making you clench your thighs.

Was it wrong starting to fall for the popular guy in school, the one that would get all the girls he wanted like he was the prince charming?

You surely were, but you had an obstacle in your path, you just needed to ruin someone’s reputation first.

Maybe Rachel should watch her mouth and her behavior around you.

taglist: @fawnchives @lanas-doll @mattscoquette @cannibalsclass comment if u wanna be on it!!

a/n: i had no idea how to wrap it up but i promise chapter two ill be GOOD.

#Spotify #eternaldecisions #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris x reader #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

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nhlclover · 3 days

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

summary: you ignore luke's warnings about jacks commitment, only leading to your heartbreak.

warnings: bsf ! luke hughes x reader, jack hughes x reader, angst, (implied but not really) unrequited love, jack being a terrible boyfriend, age gap but not really? (2 years)

word count: 3.55k

For as long as everyone could remember it had been you and Luke. You had met in childhood and your bond had been immediate. It was as if the universe conspired to bring the two of you together in an inseparable bond. You soon became a part of the Hughes family’s rituals, joining them most summers as they went to their lake house in Michigan.

Jack, Luke’s older brother, however, had always been a different story. Jack was the kind of guy who turned heads wherever he went, drawing people in with his effortless charm and a smile that could light up a room. He was adored by many and you were no exception.

Jack had never really paid much mind to you growing up. To him, you were just Luke’s friend. You were always around, spending several summers at the Hughes’s lake house, but he never looked your way with any particular interest. He was the cool older kid, focused on hockey and his own friends, and you were just a fixture in the background. He honestly forgot about you when he moved to New Jersey.

But when you moved to New Jersey for college, you changed. The change did you good; you grew up, you found your style, you became more confident. You had a glow-up that turned heads wherever you went. Then you were suddenly back in Jack’s life when Luke joined him in New Jersey. You weren’t just the little kid from down the street anymore; you’d grown up, and Jack noticed.

The first time Jack noticed you was when the team had gone out after a game and Luke had invited you along. As you got to know Luke’s new teammates, you couldn’t help but notice Jack’s gaze lingering on you. There was a flicker of something new in his gaze, something that made your heart skip a beat. When you wrapped up your conversation with Dawson, he walked over, flashing you a grin that made your knees weak. “Hey,” he said. “Haven’t seen you in ages. You look great.”

It started with little things, a flirty comment here and there, you going to games at Jack's request, and before you knew it, you and Jack were dating. Luke was initially taken aback by this sudden change. It irked him, not because he didn’t want you to be happy, but because he had always seen you, appreciated you, and now Jack was swooping in with his newfound attention. Seeing you with his brother brought about mixed feelings. He loved seeing you happy, but there was a part of him that was protective, wary of Jack’s intentions.

Jack was charming and fun, but he was also notoriously noncommittal. Luke knew his brother better than anyone. He had seen Jack go through relationships with an almost casual disregard, enjoying the thrill of the chase more than the stability of a long-term commitment. It wasn’t long before Luke’s concern grew into a quiet, nagging worry. He watched as you threw yourself wholeheartedly into the relationship, your eyes lighting up at every text from Jack, your weekends revolving around his hockey schedule and social events.

However, Jack’s habit of non-commitment soon showed itself as he began cancelling dates last minute. At first, it was the occasional change of plans due to practice running late or spontaneous team dinners and you were understanding. You knew how demanding Jack’s schedule could be, and you didn’t want to be the reason he missed out on important moments with his team. But as the weeks went by, the excuses became more frequent and less plausible, especially when Luke was never part of the team outings or stayed late for practice.

There were times when you’d get ready for a planned dinner, excitement bubbling within you, only to receive a text from Jack an hour before, saying he couldn’t make it. You would sit there, staring at your reflection in the mirror, feeling the sting of disappointment settle in. Yet, you brushed it off, convinced that things would get better once Jack’s schedule eased up.

Luke, meanwhile, watched this pattern unfold. He noticed the way your face would fall when you received those last-minute cancellations, the way you tried to hide your hurt behind a brave smile. He wanted to say something, to protect you from the pain he saw coming, but he didn’t want to seem like he was undermining your happiness.

One Friday night, after Jack had bailed on yet another date, you found yourself sitting alone in your apartment, a bottle of wine on the table and your favorite movie playing. You paused the movie after there was a soft knock on your door. You opened it, Luke standing across from you carrying a pizza box and a sympathetic smile.

“Thought you might want some company,” he said. You offered him a weak smile, letting him in. He set the pizza down on the table and flopped onto the couch beside you.

The movie played on and as the hours passed, you felt the weight of your relationship worries lift. But as the night wore on and the wine bottle emptied, Luke couldn’t keep his concerns to himself any longer.

“Listen, I don’t want to overstep,” he began hesitantly, “but I’m worried about you. About Jack. He’s not treating you the way you deserve.”

You sighed, swirling the last of your wine in your glass. “I know he’s been flaky, but he cares about me. I just… I think he’s overwhelmed right now.”

“Maybe,” Luke conceded. “But you deserve someone who makes you a priority, not an afterthought. I hate seeing you get hurt.”

You considered Luke’s words for a moment, briefly questioning your importance to Jack. The memories of canceled plans and unreturned calls surfaced, but you quickly pushed them aside. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but feel a defensive pang in your chest. “I know Jack can be a bit flaky, but he’s different with me. I know he cares,” you insisted, your voice firm, though a hint of doubt lingered.

Luke’s expression softened, his concern etched deeply in his features. “I just don’t want to see you getting hurt because you’re more invested than he is. You mean a lot to me, and I hate seeing you disappointed.”

You brushed off Luke’s concerns, determined to prove him wrong. You wanted to believe in Jack, in the potential of your relationship, and you were committed to making it work. Every time Jack flaked on a plan or sent a last-minute cancellation text, you told yourself it was just a phase, a rough patch that all couples go through.

Because on the rare occasions when Jack did follow through with your plans, those moments felt magical. The way he would laugh at your jokes, the warmth of his hand in yours, the stolen kisses in crowded places—all of it made you feel special like you were the most important person in his world. It was in those fleeting moments that you clung to the belief that Jack truly cared for you.

Then came your birthday.

Your 21st birthday was something you had been looking forward to for a while now. You never did much for your previous birthdays, but you decided to go all out for your 21st. You were hosting a party at your place and made it an open invitation. Your friends were coming, your co-workers were coming, and you had told Jack and Luke to invite their teammates.

You and your closest friends spent the day getting ready and setting up to host everyone. The living room was transformed with decorations perfectly suited to you.

In the days prior, you’d made sure to remind Jack repeatedly so that he wouldn’t forget. Each time, he’d reassured you with a smile and a promise, “I’ll be there, don’t worry.” You held onto that promise, convinced that this time, he wouldn’t let you down.

As the evening approached, your apartment buzzed with energy. The doorbell rang frequently, bringing waves of guests, laughter, and gifts. You greeted everyone with a radiant smile, your excitement growing with each new arrival. Luke arrived early, carrying a beautifully wrapped present (that you knew he’d gotten gift-wrapped at the mall) and wearing a grin that made you feel instantly better about the night.

“This is for you,” he said, handing you the gift. “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, Luke,” you replied, hugging him tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said sincerely.

The night progressed, music played, people danced, and the atmosphere was filled with joy. You floated from group to group, making sure everyone was having a good time, but your eyes kept darting to the door, waiting for Jack.

Just as you were beginning to resign yourself to the fact that Jack wasn’t going to show, the doorbell rang again. You rushed to answer it, hope flaring in your chest. But it wasn’t Jack. It was Dawson and John, looking slightly awkward.

“Hey, happy birthday!” John said, handing you a gift bag. “Sorry Jack couldn’t make it. He, uh, had something come up.”

Your heart sank. “Oh, thanks, John,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Come on in you guys, join the party.”

They both nodded and joined the crowd, leaving you standing by the door, a forced smile on your face.

Luke watched from across the room the whole evening, noticing how your smile seemed to fade with every passing minute. He knew you were hurting and it pained him to see you trying so hard to keep it together. The hours ticked by, your forced smile becoming increasingly strained, your eyes glancing at the door every few minutes.

The lively chatter and laughter of the party contrasted sharply with the growing shadow over your features. Luke could see the small signs of your distress that others missed; the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your dress, the deep breaths you took to steady yourself, the hollow look in your eyes every time you glanced at your phone, hoping for a message that never came.

He remembered how excited you had been for tonight, how you had spent days planning every detail to perfection. This was supposed to be a special evening, a night to celebrate with friends and the man you loved. Instead, it had turned into an agonizing wait, each tick of the clock a reminder of Jack's absence.

As the evening wore on and the party wound down, guests began to filter out. As your close friends left, they offered sympathetic looks and polite comments about Jack’s absence that were thinly veiled with pity. Luke's heart ached as he saw you nod and smile, your mask slipping just a little more each time. By the time the last of the guests had said their goodbyes, Jack was still a no-show.

You retreated to the back patio, your forced brave facade crumbling as you sank onto the sofa, letting the tears fall. The cool night air did little to soothe the storm of emotions inside you. Luke had watched you slip out to the porch, hesitating a moment before following you.

Luke stepped out on the deck, spotting you curled up on the sofa. When you turned to look at Luke, the moon glinted off your tear-stained cheeks. Quickly, you wiped away the tears with the back of your hand, turning your head away from the curly-haired boy whose pitiful expression made you feel even smaller.

Luke’s chest tightened with anger and sorrow, his heart aching at the sight of your pain. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions, but the anger bubbled up, not directed at you, but rather at his brother who’d failed to show despite your repeated reminders. What could he possibly be doing that is more important than his girlfriend's birthday? He clenched his fists, knuckles white against the backdrop of the night, his frustration nearly palpable.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a tentative step closer, the wooden boards of the deck creaking under his weight. “Are you okay?”

You kept your gaze away from Luke. “I’m fine, Luke.”

He hesitated for a moment, then moved to sit beside you on the sofa. “Y/n… I’m sorry he didn’t show.”

Slowly, you turned to face him, your eyes red and puffy from crying. “It’s fine. You were right.” you say, voice cracking and raw with emotion. “I am way more committed than Jack ever was and I was stupid to think otherwise! I get it. You don’t need to come out here and rub it in my face.”

Luke’s expression softened, the anger dissipating, replaced by a deep sadness. He reached out tentatively, placing a hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring. “I’m not here to rub anything in your face, Y/n. I’m here because I care about you.”

You shook your head, tears threatening to spill over again. “It’s just… I thought he would change, you know? I believed he cared as much as I did. But I guess I was just fooling myself.” You pull your eyes off Luke’s, not being able to bear his sorry expression. “I figured I could make him fall as in love with me as I am with him.”

Luke stayed silent, allowing you to speak every thought that was bearing down on your mind. You looked down at your hands, feeling a fresh wave of grief. “I thought he was that person,” you whispered. “I thought we were building something real.”

Luke’s anger now seemed to come back, a protective fury. “Jack’s an idiot,” he said, his voice steady but filled with a quiet intensity. “He doesn’t deserve you. He never did.”

You dropped your head, a sob wracking your body. Luke brought an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in and allowing you to rest the weight of your body against his. Your tears fell to his t-shirt, soaking the blue material. Luke held you tightly as the storm of emotions brewing inside of you came out.

For a while, the only sounds were your quiet sobs and the gentle rustling of the leaves in the night breeze. Luke didn’t say anything, mostly because his thoughts were reserved for anger directed at his brother, and that likely wasn’t what you wanted to hear at that moment. His hand moved in soothing circles on your back, offering silent reassurance.

Eventually, Luke drew you inside, bringing you to your bedroom. Your tears had waned, but the sadness remained on your face. Luke had gotten you settled in bed and was just about to leave when your soft voice broke through the quiet.

“Luke?” you asked, your voice fragile. “Can you stay for a bit? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Luke stopped at the door, his hand resting on the frame as he turned back to look at you. The sight of your tear-streaked face and the vulnerability in your eyes tugged at his heartstrings. He nodded slowly, his expression softening further.

"Of course, y/n," he replied gently, crossing the room to sit on the edge of your bed.

He could see the exhaustion etched into your features, a mix of emotional and physical fatigue. Without another word, he kicked off his shoes and moved to lie down beside you. You shifted closer to him, curling into his side. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room.

As the minutes ticked by, your eyes grew heavier, the emotional exhaustion finally catching up with you. Luke held you, watching your breathing steady, indicating that you had finally drifted off to sleep. Even then, he stayed awake, his mind racing with thoughts of his brother and the pain he had caused you. Anger simmered beneath the surface, but he forced himself to stay calm. Right now, you needed comfort, not his fury.

After Luke was sure you had fallen completely asleep, he slipped out to the living area. He continued to clean up after the guests before eventually crashing on your couch. He couldn’t bring himself to leave you or go to his apartment where he presumed Jack was, completely oblivious to the hurt he’d caused.

When morning came, Luke left reluctantly for practice, but only after you’d assured him you were fine. But despite your promises, Luke knew you were still hurting. He drove to the rink for practice, his mind already racing with what he needed to say to Jack.

When Luke entered the locker room, he spotted Jack standing in front of Nico who was sitting in his locker. He laughed with his teammate as if nothing was wrong. As if Luke hadn’t just left your apartment, leaving a girl with tear-stained cheeks and questioning her self-worth.

Fury boiled within Luke. Without thinking, he stormed over and shoved Jack. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Jack stumbled back, surprise and anger flashing in his eyes. “What’s your problem, Luke?”

“My problem?” Luke shouted, his fists clenched at his sides. He stepped back into Jack's face. “Do you know what day it was yesterday?”

Jack returned the shove, sending Luke back a step. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You remember that you have a girlfriend, right?” Luke asked.

Jack’s face fell as he remembered the date, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

"You didn't show up. Do you have any idea how much that hurt her?" Luke asked.

By now the guys that were in the equipment room or the gym had come into the locker room to investigate what was the source of the raised voices. They crowded the entrances, watching the two brothers who were seemingly at a standoff.

Jack’s expression hardened, but guilt was evident in his eyes. “No one reminded me,” he muttered defensively.

Luke’s anger boiled over at the excuse, stepping forward to shove his brother again, but Nico pulled him back. Timo stepped in, bringing back Jack who was ready to meet his brother's fury. The commotion had now drawn the attention of Keefe, who barrelled through the guys in the doorways. He observed the scene before him, both Hughes brothers who were equally red in the face, being held back by their teammates.

“The hell is going on in here?” he asked. Both boys remained silent, the others not speaking as they still weren’t quite sure what was going on. “Someone wanna fucking tell me?”

Luke turned to look at his new head coach, hurt remaining in his eyes. “Just settling something that needs to be settled, Coach.”

Keefe’s gaze shifted between the two, reading the volatile atmosphere. “Take it outside. Now. Both of you.”

Nico and Timo let go of each boy, letting them walk into the now-empty gym. The team watched them go, a heavy silence settling in the locker room as the door swung shut behind them.

“How could you do that to her?” Luke demanded once they were alone, pacing back and forth. “She’s been nothing but good to you, and you couldn’t even show up for her birthday?”

Jack rubbed his temples, his frustration evident. “You think I don't feel bad about it? It slipped my mind, okay?”

“It slipped your mind? She reminded you about a dozen times.” Luke spat back incredulously. “She’s not some random girl you can just forget about. She’s your girlfriend, Jack. She deserves better than this.”

Jack's shoulders sank as he turned away from Luke. “She was devastated, Jack. I was the one who had to comfort her. Me! Your little brother!” Luke continued. “I was the one that stayed by her side while she cried over her boyfriend who forgot her birthday. I stayed up all night to make sure she was okay.”

Jack turned to look at Luke a confused, almost hurt look on his face. “You stayed with her?” When Luke didn’t reply, Jack’s expression darkened. “That’s low, even for you, Luke. You’ve always liked her, haven’t you? This was your chance to sabotage us.”

“Are you insane?” Luke shot back, his eyes blazing with anger. “Y/n was my friend long before she was your girlfriend. I stayed because she needed someone, and you weren’t there. No one else was.”

Luke's words hung in the air, thick with unspoken truths and simmering emotions. Jack's face twisted with a mix of anger and confusion. “You expect me to believe that you were just being the good guy?”

Luke took a deep breath, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I’m not here to fight about who likes her more, Jack. I’m here because you hurt someone who didn’t deserve it. She trusted you, and you let her down.”

Jack sunk down to one of the benches, his defenses finally crumbling. “You need to figure out what you want, Jack,” Luke finally said, his voice laced with disappointment. “Because if you keep hurting her, you’re going to lose her. And you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

Luke stormed out of the gym, past the guys who still lingered in the locker room, leaving Jack behind in the wake of his words.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #jack hughes #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #new jersey devils

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hard--headed--woman · 2 days

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Sorry for the very late post! I had to change my plans, because I wanted to talk about someone else but changed my mind for some reasons ; so I had to find another story and rewrite everything.

This time, the post isn’t going to be about one woman, but two. Last year, I had already made a post about these two women, but I couldn't just not talk about them this month given how amazing their story is.

Here is the story of :

Elisa and Marcela !

Marcela Gracia Ibeas and Elisa Sánchez Loriga got married on June 8, 1901, in A Coruña, at Galicia, in Spain. Their marriage was the first homosexual marriage in Spain since the Roman imperial era and happened more than 100 years before the country legalized homosexual marriages !

To achieve this, Elisa disguised herself as a man, and adopted a male identity, Mario Sánchez, which is the name on their marriage certificate. Their lie was later discovered, but their marriage was never annulled, and they remained married for the rest of their lives.

There is a Netflix movie about them if you want to see it. Though it has it flaws, I personally enjoyed it a lot, and from what I know, it is not too bad historically speaking. There's just one thing that happens in the movie that we are far from sure happened in real life. (I personally do not believe it did) Here's the trailer if you are interested! It's a very good movie in my opinion!

(But if you plan to watch it, maybe you shouldn't read the rest of the post as it's gonna spoil you everything lol)

The two young women met at the teacher training college in La Coruña. Marcela, 18, is a student there, while Elisa, 23, works there after completing the same course. They become friends, then lovers. Marcela's parents, fearing a scandal, send their daughter to study in Madrid, but this is not enough to put an end to their romance. Marcela is appointed teacher in Vimianzo, in the village of Calo, while Elisa, not far from there, works as a temporary replacement in Couso. They decided to live together in Calo until 1889, when Marcela left to teach in Dumbría, while Elisa remained in Calo. They kept in touch, writing to each other, until Elisa joined Marcela.

They live their love for years, hiding their relationship, until they get fed up and decide to hatch a plan to get married.

In 1901, Elisa adopted a masculine appearance. She created a past for herself based on a cousin who died in a shipwreck, and claimed to have spent her childhood in London with an atheist father. She was baptized as Mario on May 26, 1901, and made her First Communion under the same identity.

The couple married on June 8, 1901. A brief wedding ceremony was performed before witnesses, and the couple spent their wedding night in the Corcubión inn on Calle de San Andrés - Elisa and Marcela were officially the first Spanish homosexual couple to marry. Their plan was a success.

Unfortunately, the villagers began to have doubts and realized that this marriage was what they called "a marriage without a man".

The Galician and Madrid press reported the affair, and the two women lost their jobs, were excommunicated and placed under arrest.

Here's a picture of them after their arrest :

Despite this, and attempts by the Guardia Civil to prosecute them, their marriage was never annulled, and the two lovers managed to run away. Their story became famous in Spain and many other European countries.

(Un matrimonio sin hombre = a marriage without a man)

After that, we don't know what happened to them. The last thing we know fore sure about them is that they embarked on a ship bound for South America - perhaps Argentina, like so many other Spaniards of the time, where they spent their honeymoon and settled.

A book published in 2008 tries to tell their story after they left Spain for Argentina, but this books seems suspicious to a lot of people, including me, and I don't trust it so I am not going to talk about it but finding informations about it is easy if you are interested !

Anyway, this story is just incredible!!! It is so so important in lesbian history (though we do not really know if they were lesbian or bisexual. Elisa was probably a lesbian, but the book, based on some rumours, claimed that Marcela slept with a man in order to have a child, so she might have been bi if it is true) and so, so interesting. I can't believe it's not like 100× more famous. The fact that two women got married in 1901!!! Whith one of them dressed as a guy! I love it.

#lesbian #pride #lesbian pride #elisa y marcela #elisa and marcela #pride month #lesbian history

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spenceragnewfics · 10 hours

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omg hi hi super excited to read your stuff!! Could I request a fluffy Spencer fic where reader also works at smosh and they’re tiptoeing around their relationship because they don’t want viewers/coworkers to know!! <33

I really hope you enjoy this. I didn't really know how I wanted to do this so I hope this is good. Enjoy!!

THE PA & THE DIRECTOR | Spencer Agnew x Reader

TW: none that I know of

Word Count: 1.2k

Description: Starting as an intern, Y/N forms a close relationship with Spencer which turns into a very loving but secret relationship. That is until the three newest cast members and a returning owner finds evidence to prove otherwise.

In the summer of 2021, Y/N had gotten an internship with Smosh. They were hired on as an intern for the office in their senior year of college. During the summer, they had many friendships and connections made with people all over the office, the best one being with the games crew and Spencer in particular.

When the summer ended, Ian offered them a job for after they graduate. They would be a PA for the gaming channel and Y/N accepted immediately, they loved their summer working for the company and the people so why wouldn’t they accept the job?

Y/N graduated in the spring of 2022 and moved to LA to start their career at Smosh. They thrived with helping on the gaming channel and even were allowed to help edit some videos, with Spencer’s supervision for the first few.

The two of them continued to get closer and closer with all the late nights they spent together working and they had even more when Spencer was made the director of Smosh Games. It was the best for the both of them because Y/N had an amazing boss and Spencer had a reliable hand to help when needed.

One night, the two were at Spencer’s apartment hanging out and brainstorming gaming video ideas. They had pizza and drinks to help fuel the brainstorming and help keep them awake.

“Okay, what if we do a d&d like game? We get some of the cast that are interested and make a little series off of it.” Y/N suggest as they take a bite of pizza. “That sounds cool, we could try that and see how fans react. I think Damien and Shayne are a forsure yes for that.” Spencer says as he writes down the idea.

“Obviously, I think you could be in it as well.” He looks at them shocked as they smile, “Really? You think the fans could take seeing me that long?” He jokes and Y/N rolls their eyes. “Of course they can, don’t you see all the comments of the fans begging for more Spencer content?” He shrugs and looks at the person across from him.

They notice his eyes and look at him as well, “What’s up, Spence?” He shrugs, “Nothing, just looking at you.” This makes them confused, “Why, is there something on my face?”

“Yeah, actually hang on, let me just.” He leans over and moves his thumb to wipe something off their face but pulls them in and kisses them. The action takes Y/N by surprise but they kiss him back, letting the feelings they had been feeling for a while finally come out.

Spencer is the one to break the kiss. He looks at Y/N with nervous eyes, “If you wanted to kiss me, Spence, all you had to do was ask.” He chuckles and leans back in to kiss them.

The night changed everything and started a very loving relationship between the two. Originally, they had planned to keep it a secret until they were sure this would be something that lasted a while and wasn’t just a fling.

Well, that was almost two years ago and they just haven’t told anyone. Not their co-workers and not the fans. It hasn’t been easy honestly. It’s been a lot of careful touches and joking flirting with closet make out sessions.

No one has seemed to catch on because the two were always close. They have slowly become more and more touchy but people have brushed it off as them just evolving in their friendship. That was until they had a Anthony on the Smosh Games set.

It was Shayne, Angela, Trevor, Chanse, and Anthony playing Don’t Win Mario Party. Spencer is directing while Y/N is helping get everyone set up and making sure everything is in place.

“Y/N, can you come look at this for a second?” Alex Tran asks and they walk over quickly. Unknown to them, Spencer watches their every move as they pass by him and over to one of his best friends. This is not missed on Anthony though, he leans over to Chanse. “What’s going on between those two?” Chanse looks at the dude then looks to see where he is looking then laughs.

“Spencer and Y/N? They’re just friends, nothing more, swear. It’d be epic if they were but sadly not.” This makes Anthony confused because he knows that look on Spencer’s face and his thoughts are confirmed even more when Y/N walks by Spencer and he squeezes their hip as they do.

“You guys are so fucking blind.” He mutters to himself as Chanse looks at him confused then looks at Angela and Trevor. “Do you two know if Y/N and Spencer are a thing?”

“No, why?” Trevor asks, “Mr.Tattos over here thinks they are.” That makes Angela cackle. “Chanse, you remember when you first joined. You thought the same thing, it’s just how it is to the unknowing eye. He’s only been back for like a month.” She says, laughing at the thought of the two being together without anyone knowing.

The whole ordeal is soon over as they start shooting. Everything goes great and smoothly as does most shoots with the dream team of Spencer, Alex T, and Y/N. Angela got first and would be wearing the dog cone the next round while Chanse got fourth.

“Okay, that was great everyone! You all did amazing!” Spencer announces as the room cheers. Y/N walks over to him with a sweet smile as people start to slowly leave the set.

“Very good work today, Mr. Director.” He smirks at their words, “You did very well, my favorite PA.” Their cheeks heat up and they look down. Spencer looks around, noticing the set is empty. He puts his hands on their waist, pulling them in for a kiss which Y/N quickly reciprocates.

The innocent kiss lasts longer than both originally intended. They don’t notice the three newest castmates of Smosh hiding behind the set and poking their heads out just enough to see what is happening.

Angela, being Angela, pulls out her phone and takes multiple photos with a proud smile on her face. Chanse and Trevor do the same thing but Trevor forgot to turn his sound off and the sound of a camera click resounds around the empty studio.

“Trevor, what the fuck?!” Angela whisper yells at him, “Turn your sound off!” Chanse chastises but it’s no use as the couple turns around to see the three. Spencer clears his throat and they look up.

“Is there something you three need?” Y/N asks, leaning their head on Spencer’s shoulder.

A chorus of nos, congratulations, and apologies come from the three as they quickly run off the set. “Well, guess that will be all over the office soon.” Y/N says, looking over to their boyfriend.

He shrugs, “We knew it would happen some day, my love.” Y/N playfully shoves him at the cute nickname before pulling him into another kiss. Not caring about the fact their phones are about to go fucking wild.

#smosh #smosh cast #smosh games #smosh mouth #smosh pit #spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #fluff #spencer agnew fluff #romance #fanfiction #imagine #request #smosh x reader #smosh imagine

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justsomeweirdbandkid · 2 years

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God I'm tired of being the one nobody falls in love with

#don't like this post. don't interact. this is just me venting and I'll delete it later #anyone that interacts will be immediately blocked. no exceptions #I'm 18 and I've only been in?? one?? relationship. and I initiated it. we broke up after about 4 months because they felt nothing for me #I fall in love. with SO MANY PEOPLE #but none of them seem to love me back #I really came to terms with this via the recent crush situation #even if they seem like they REALLY REALLY REALLY like me. they just wanna be friends #everyone just wants to be friends. never anything more #I mentioned that I've only ever had one serious relationship to one of my roommates #her response?#'get into as many relationships as you want! it's college!'#that's easy to say when you're literally the pretty girl next door everyone wants #I know I'm not the most conventionally attractive person. but I'm definitely not unattractive #no matter how pretty I am. no matter how appealing I am to everyone. no matter how open I am #nobody wants me #I'm just a quirky side-character for everyone to laugh at #I want to love someone and have them love me back #I want to lay in someone's arms as they look at me as adoringly as I look at them #but nobody gives me a chance. if it wasn't for my personality I probably wouldn't even be looked at #I'm tired of it #I hate when I see people complain 'I'm sick of being the second option!! 😭'#at least you're an option #vent tw #tw vent #i just wanted to get this off my chest #the older I get the more I realize it and it's really hitting nowadays

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lzrdprsn · 1 year

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It's really weird when you know someone in a context different from how everybody else knows them so you look at them and you still kind of see that person they used to be

#this post is about the boy i dated my senior year who was so incredibly sweet tbh wouldnt be the person i am today if i hadnt met him #but he was so fucked up he had so many issues it was really hard so it didnt work out but i loved him and i think he loved me too #but hes in a moderately successful band now which i just found out about do i looked them up and theyre good #but its so weird because its like i know that when you were 17 you wanted to be an underwater welder #i helped you clean your room at your grandmas house because you were so sad you couldnt do it yourself #i ditched 5th period AP English to sit on the steps behind the auditorium and listen to you talk about whatever #you pushed me on the swings and we took the bus to the movie theater and you liked cherry wraps and you played me my favorite songs #i havent REALLY thought about that guy in years and we were only together MAYBE 6 months but its so weird what you remember about people #and especially how you remember how they made you feel because he made me feel so good like i was in control #all my previous relationships was me trying to desperately please someone who wouldnt do the same for me #and honestly a lot of my relationships since have been the same especially in college and with the one girl who honestly if she called me #today i would drop everything and go be with her again no questions because i cant get her out of my head #but stuff witj him was never ever like that it was so easy it was like breathing even though it ended messy i have 0 regrets #and its nice to know that things are going well for him because honestly he changed my life a little bit #the way i dont give a fuck now is something i learned from him #ill probably delete this later but you know

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piedoesnotequalpi · 8 months

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#i want my SO to not have dumped me!!!#god!!!#I've had multiple people go oh now you can date a girl if you want #or oh how many people actually end up with their college partner #shut up!!! i want my stupid cishet boyfriend back!!!#and everyone was like oh Isabel and Josh are a forever thing #and i had a friend who was a couple years younger say when she was in high school all her friends had awful relationships #which made her think well why would anyone bother #but then she met us and went oh okay i get it now #and now I'm like why should i bother! I'm just going to end up losing what could've been a great friendship again!#when we started dating it felt like we'd always been dating #like I'd have to remind myself oh huh we've only been together a couple months #god #sorry to anyone who reads this I'm just going through it apparently

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proteuus · 2 years

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walking out of my parents' house alone into the cold dark night because I don't live there anymore because I'm all grown up and have my own separate life now is actually so melancholic

#i only have this relationship with my family because i moved out i couldnt live with them for real #but im always so sad to leave them #younger me wanted to get as far away as fast as possible but that would have been devastating to me actually i think #and you all know how much i love college and how many exciting things i do that i love. but sometimes its like. wow. holy shit #i went to visit bc i visit often but especially bc it was my brother's 16th birthday a few days ago #he just got his drivers license. so soon he'll be in college too. literally what

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irulancorrino · 2 years

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#sometimes I think to myself. what a heartless bitch I am.#my ex basically admitted that he's v depressed about our breakup and me? I feel fine #but then I remember how many times I have bitched and moaned about one thing or other related to the breakup or ex himself #on tumblr dot com of all places #and then I think you know what maybe I'm not all that fine actually dsjkfdslkfl #almost 4 years!!!!! 4 years down the drain #I know that's not how it works but that's how it feels #all the plans all the shit I got from my parents all the enduring and the suffering #for nothing??#and like not to actually sound like a heartless bitch #but I kinda wish I could back to 4 years ago and tell myself to stand my ground and NOT get in a relationship with him #and I knew I KNEW from the get go that the relationship was not viable #I found diary entries from years ago bemoaning the exact same things over and over again #I was wrecking my brain how to move to fucking canada when I had zero resources to do so!!#I was somehow supposed to make the impossible happen all by my lonesome!!#I was begging BEGGING him to take on SOMETHING #take *something* off my shoulders #but nooo I was supposed to somehow get money for a college in canada bc my bachelors wouldn't work there apparently #get into said college and then work for a year to get a card or whatever #and he wanted to do 50/50 on the rent and expenses!!!!!!!!#like bitch this is all for YOU #I wouldn't move across the ocean for shits and giggles we're talking about leaving everything behind for YOU #and he was like 'well your parents should be helping you' BITCH????#my parents were so SO pissed about the whole situation #not only were they not helping at all whatsoever they were actively hindering my progress!!!!!!! my mom literally admitted to it #in the middle of a heated fight it just slipped out and I REMEMBER it even though she denies ever saying it now #YOUR parents put you through college. I got in on a scholarship. my parents literally told me they wouldn't be able to afford to pay #YOU are still living with your parents in a three storey house that they own standing to inherit all ur dad's businesses #I was living in a two bedroom apartment with my parents and a sibling standing to inherit shit we are NOT the same #nnnnggghhhhhhh this is so much I cannot even

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caramelmochacrow · 6 months

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i think i know one of the reasons why i love kyoshino so much.

it's because their relationship is similar to how my parents got together.

#crow talks #like. they have so many similarities it's concerning.#i have a weird relationship with my parents but. like. i can feel their love sometimes.#THIS SOUNDS SO SAD IM SORRY--#the way my parents got together is similar to those two i hate it #they were neighbors and they didnt know until COLLEGE OR HIGHSCHOOL.#it's fucked.#okay. after. um. asking my dad how my mom got together and getting curious abt his side of the family i know too much now.#like. HIS SIDE OF THE FAMILY KNEW AN EXTREMELY IMPORTANT POLITICAL FIGURE IN PH HISTORY.#I NOW KNOW FAMILY DRAMA THAT SPANS DECADES. MY FATHER'S LIFESPAN AT LEAST.#IM NOT SAYING THE POLITICAL FIGURE THO BC YOU WILL KNOW MY LAST NAME AND I DONT WANT TO BE AFFILIATED AS WELL W THOSE GUYS AS WELL.#WHAT THE HELL.

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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months

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I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin.

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm.

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after.

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well.

— I’ll find something to eat, alright?

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged.

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you.

— Ah…your father is at home?

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was.

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you.

— You didn’t tell him about me?

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly.

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh.

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart.

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home.

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed.

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen.

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid.

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished.

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel.

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son.

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl.

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it?

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years.

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like.

— Ja. You can have it.

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it.

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you.

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him.

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home.

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you.

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom.

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you.

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet.

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz.

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce.

— What do you mean by this, sir?

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally.

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid.

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship.

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you.

König is.

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you.

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man.

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this.

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father.

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too.

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir.

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing.

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all.

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks.

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies.

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right?

You look like a good candidate.

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz.

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left.

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here.

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body.

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him.

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is.

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway.

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all.

— I don’t want to break his heart.

— He doesn’t have one.

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it.

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted.

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game.

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later.

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum.

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please”

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable.

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later.

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before.

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people.

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right.

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore.

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid.

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second.

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this.

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it.

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed.

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good.

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father.

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it?

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul.

— I’ll tell him.

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck.

— I need to return to my dorm.

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja?

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right.

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen.

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked.

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are.

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja?

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere x reader

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sunniques · 2 months

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— 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ?

➺ PAIRING: lee heeseung x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepbrother au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: the story of how your stepbrother’s girlfriend realizes her boyfriend has never really been hers.

➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infidelity, possessiveness, heeseung can lift reader, cucking kink, voyeurism, masturbation (f), oral sex (f), fingering, face sitting, unprotected sex, creampies

➺ WC: 4.6k

NOTE: don’t like, don’t read.

A lot of people find your relationship with your stepbrother cute. How could they not? He’s always so doting and protective like a real brother would be. In spite of being only slightly older, Heeseung takes on a very important role in your life. He constantly goes out of his way to take care of you, making sure you have anything you could possibly need.

Heeseung’s girlfriend never thought too much about the relationship between you two. It was natural that he took the naive college freshman under his wing and constantly had you by his side. Mina found it endearing, actually. The way he worried about you like a mother hen who wasn’t ready for her young chick to go into the world alone is adorable and a good sign. After dating so many inconsiderate losers, she thinks she’s finally chosen the right guy.

But somewhere along the way, Mina starts to grow tired of it. Time has gone by, and you’re no longer a naive freshman who can’t get around without her boyfriend’s help. Of course family is important, but it’s not like you’re entirely helpless. And yet, that’s exactly the way Heeseung acts. He’s always ready to drop everything when you need him. On several humiliating occasions, he’s even left her half naked on his bed just to go to you because you bought something you couldn’t figure out how to put together, or because you wanted to hang out with him.

It’s hard for Mina to admit that she’s a little jealous. Especially because it all seems so ridiculous. There’s no way her boyfriend actually wants you like that. But as time goes on, she thinks that maybe she’s not all that crazy. Especially with the affectionate way her boyfriend looks at you. Despite all this, Mina doesn’t say anything. At least, not until Heeseung starts to bring you along to what were meant to be dates.

“Babe, why do you keep bringing your stepsister? i thought we were going on a date?” It’s hard for her to not sound bitter and annoyed.

“Her roommate is going to visit her parents, and I don’t want Y/N to be alone.” His tone is kind and gentle like always, but it’s also firm and leaves no room for arguments.

What’s worse is that Mina can’t bring herself to hate or blame you. In a way, she understands why her boyfriend is always so concerned about you. You’re so nice and trusting that it would be way too easy for someone to take advantage of that. There’s also the fact that you’ve been more than willing to let them have some alone time, but Heeseung never lets you leave.

It’s all so strange and frustrating that Mina feels like she has to take matters into her own hands. So she does.

The key to Heeseung letting you go is getting you a boyfriend—or at least getting you to start dating. It’s easy enough to find a guy who’s interested in you. That’s never been a problem for you, and all it takes is her showing your picture to the cute guy in her communications class for her plan to fall into place. As luck would have it, you’re also into meeting the guy and going out with him.

Little did Mina know, setting you up with him would be a mistake that would cost her everything.

On the night you’re meant to meet up with her classmate, Mina excitedly goes to her boyfriend’s apartment. It’s been a long time since she got to be alone with Heeseung, and she was going to make the most of it.

She’s dressed in tiny tank top and a cute little skirt that Heeseung loves—it barely hides the lingerie she’s wearing underneath. Mina quietly lets herself into her boyfriend’s apartment using her spare key. Quietly, she tiptoes to his room only to find the door wide open. What she doesn’t expect is to find you sitting on his the edge of bed while Heeseung kneels in front of you.

Mina feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on her as his pretty hands rub your soft thighs. You look incredible, clad in a cute little dress with your makeup and hair done to perfection. It’s a mistake for Mina to keep watching, but she can’t find her voice at the moment.

“Seungie, what’s wrong?”

God, Mina hates that you call him that. Mostly because she can tell how much Heeseung likes it.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going out to meet some guy?” Heeseung sounds almost venomous, but it’s like you don’t hear it. “Who is he? How’d you meet him?”

You tilt your head, pretty lips pulled down in a confused frown. “Didn’t Mina tell you? She set me up with a guy from her class. He’s really cute!”

A chill goes down Mina’s spine. She can see Heeseung’s back tense when you tell him how your date came to be. The air feels almost murderous as he gently squeezes your thighs.

It kills Heeseung that he was almost too late in stopping you from meeting some strange guy in the pretty little dress you have on. He softly rubs your thighs, eyes simmering with anger and desire he doesn’t care to hide. Not anymore.

“Oh, angel.” Your stepbrother murmurs, hands slowly trailing up to your thighs. “You know you’re my favorite girl, right?”

An unsuspecting smile graces your lips. “Yeah. And you’re my favorite guy.”

Heeseung hums in satisfaction as his fingers ghost the edges of your dress. He watches your eyebrows furrow, but you don’t say anything. As always, you have blind trust in your stepbrother. That’s all the indication he needs to get up and push you down on his bed. Heeseung hovers over you, loving how you’re staring up at him with sparkling, wide eyes. He swoops down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

Your heart is racing in your chest as Heeseung forces his tongue into your mouth. Despite the initial shock, you quickly melt into the kiss. He swallows your moans, pulling you closer as he deepens the messy kiss. You mewl into his mouth, carding your fingers through his hair with desire you had never realized you had for him.

Meanwhile, Mina can only watch as her boyfriend kisses you with a passion that he clearly never felt for her. It feels like her heart is ripping in half as Heeseung begins to undress you. Tears well up in her eyes when he groans at the sight of the lingerie adorning your body. Mina can see how hard he is from where she’s standing, and the desire in his eyes is very different from the way he looks at her.

“Can’t believe you got all pretty for some other boy.” Heeseung spits as he starts to undress. “Were planning on letting him fuck you?”

You shake your head and go to speak, but you can’t when Heeseung roughly pulls off your lingerie then his own underwear. His cock is thick and big, possibly the biggest you’ve ever seen. It’s twitching and leaking as he looks at you with his dark eyes.

“W-We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whine as Heeseung shoves your thighs to your stomach and licks a broad stripe up your wet pussy.

Your stepbrother groans at your sweet taste, thrusting his tongue into your dripping hole. He laps up the juices leaking out of your slit, circling his tongue on your clit for good measure. The noise you let out is downright pornographic and pure music to Heeseung’s ears.

“Seungie!” You keen as you spread your legs and tangle your hands in his messy hair. “I– Fuck!”

Heeseung pulls back with a wet slurp to spread your cunt open with his big hands. “God. You have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, angel. Just had to taste it.”

Each one of his words is like a dagger to Mina’s heart and confidence. Wet tears trickle down her face, but she doesn’t say anything as you pull on her boyfriend’s hair. Heeseung only moans and dives back into your slick cunt. He greedily laps up everything that drips out of you, sucking and kissing your clit.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, Hee.” You repeat through a needy mewl, making no attempt to stop him. In fact, you buck your pussy into his mouth as he sucks on your sensitive bud.

“Shh, angel.” Heeseung shushes as he flicks his tongue across your swollen bud. “Just relax and let me eat you out. Been wanting to do this for so long.”

Mina swallows thickly, the hurt slowly being replaced by something else. Her eyes grow bigger when she realizes which feeling is taking over. She shifts slightly, feeling a familiar wetness begin to pool in her panties. Mina feels sick that the sight of her boyfriend cheating on her can turn her on, and she thinks that she should leave right now and never return.

But she stays.

Mina licks her lips and continues to watch. Even she can’t help but think how hot you look, whimpering and writhing as Heeseung pushes your thighs apart so he can bury his face deeper in your pussy. He flicks his tongue, slowly descending until he’s lapping at your hole, slowly fucking the wet muscle in and out. Your eyes roll back as your stepbrother eats your pussy like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

The sounds coming from your pussy and the way Heeseung messily eats you out has Mina’s own cunt clenching with need. She can feel her underwear start to stick to her cunt as she watches her boyfriend lap up your arousal like a starved man. Mina bites her lip, feeling sick and twisted for being turned on by your pretty moans.

Heeseung suddenly pulls away, but not before he slaps your thigh playfully. He goes to lay on his back all while wearing a filthy smirk. “Sit on my face.”

You bite your lip as a hot flash of arousal pulses through your body. Both your and Mina’s cunts throb at the suggestion. Heeseung sees your hesitation, but doesn’t back down.

“C’mon, baby. Be a good little stepsister and ride my fucking face.” He growls out with dark eyes.

With your pussy dripping, you crawl over to him and kneel over his face. Mina watches with heated eyes as you slowly lower your cunt on her boyfriend’s face. The heat in her stomach grows when she hears Heeseung groan in satisfaction.

“That’s it. I want your pretty pussy suffocating me.”

With that, your stepbrother grabs your hips and pulls your cunt down onto his face with a groan. Mewling quietly, you rub your cunt all over his mouth. Every time he moans or grunts, it sends little vibrations through your pussy. The delicious feeling has you grinding down on his tongue as you chase that feeling. Heeseung eagerly fucks his wet muscle into your hot cunt, already addicted to your sweet taste.

Mina swallows thickly when he sees Heeseung thrusting into the air as he eats you out. His cock is leaking and throbbing with need. Fuck. How she’d like to go and lick all that up, to have him fuck her mouth as he fucks you with his tongue. Mina rubs her thighs to soothe the growing ache in her pussy as she watches you ride Heeseung’s face.

Your eyes roll back when your stepbrother slaps your ass. A loud squeal spills from your lips as Heeseung keeps fucking his tongue up into your cunt. He grabs your ass and kneads it roughly. With one last groan and flick of his tongue, he sits up and takes you with him. The effortless display of strength turns both women on, one containing her moan while the other cries out as she’s pressed back into the mattress.

“Such a sweet little cunt.” Heeseung moans as he buries his face back into your dripping cunt. “Shit, Y/N. You’re fucking soaked down here.”

“Heeseung!” You cry out as he pries your thighs further apart. Your stepbrother shakes his head to grind his tongue against your sensitive cunt.

“Fuck, you have the hottest little pussy.” Heeseung lifts his head with a groan, lips shiny with your arousal. “Missed eating some good pussy. It’s been so long.”

Mina feels pathetic that her cunt throbs at his degrading words. She bites her lip, hands trailing up her thigh and to her soaked underwear. It’s so filthy and humiliating, but the ache in her pussy is getting to be too much. She slowly rubs circles on her covered cunt as she keeps watching her boyfriend cheat on her.

“Fuck, Seungie.” You mewl desperately. “S-Shouldn’t like having your face buried in my cunt.”

Heeseung smirks into your wetness. He gently circles his tongue on your clit, kissing it tenderly before he gently starts to nip at it with his teeth. Mina shoves her panties aside when you moan out in pleasure. Now she’s furiously rubbing at her bare pussy, wanting to see you cum on her boyfriend’s face.

“But you do, baby. You like me fucking you with my tongue, and I fucking love eating this sweet little pussy.”

Your hips buck up at the words, grinding your cunt against his mouth as you moan for him. Juices drip out of you lewdly, leaking down to your ass and onto Heeseung’s sheets. Your head is swimming with pleasure, and you have to remember that this is all so very wrong.

“You like that?” Heeseung teases you, loving how you’ve turned into putty in his hands. “Answer me, Y/N. Do you like your stepbrother telling you how much he loves tasting your juicy cunt?”

Your back arches when Heeseung sucks your puffy bud into his mouth. “God—yes! Feels so fucking good, Hee! Love having your mouth on my pussy.”

Heeseung growls, the vibrations making your cunt throb as he sucks and licks your swollen clit. Eager to have you cum on his tongue, he slips two fingers into your fluttering hole. Mina follows in suit, unable to take her eyes off the erotic sight of you getting ate out and fingered. Fuck. This was better than any porn she had ever watched. Her hand is dripping with her own arousal, and she can’t even feel disgusted anymore that she’s so turned on by the entire situation.

“Mmmh, shit, Hee.” You whine as the tips of his fingers brush against the gummy spot inside you. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Do it, baby. Cream all over my tongue.” He purrs in delight. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Heeseung flattens his tongue on your clit while his fingers grind into the spongy spot in your cunt. Your back arches off the bed, orgasm whiting out your thoughts as you cum around his long fingers.

Mina has to cover her mouth as Heeseung moans along with you. By now she’s shoved her fingers into her sopping pussy, the squelching sound is drowned out from the sounds coming from your own pussy. The filthy sight is driving her wild, and she’s so delirious with arousal that she wishes Heeseung would just fuck you already.

“You’re amazing, angel.” Your stepbrother praises with his fingers still buried knuckle deep in your pussy as he softly strokes your velvety walls. “So soft and wet. It makes me want to shove my dick into your tight little hole.”

Heeseung slowly pulls his fingers out of you, and you can only watched with a lidded gaze as he moves his body between your thighs. His cock is twitching and leaking as he grabs the base. He smacks his cock down on your slippery pussy, dragging his drooling tip up and down your slit slowly. Mina has to press her hand into her mouth harder to stifle her filthy moans. The sight of her boyfriend pressing his drooling cockhead into your soaking pussy is so hot she might just cum all over her fingers.

“S-Seungie—fuck. We shouldn’t.” You whimper as he leans forward and braces his arms by your head.

You and Mina both know you don’t really mean your words. It’s clear that you want your stepbrother to split you open on his big cock. That becomes obvious when you don’t try to stop him as he shoves his cock into your pussy until he bottoms out completely, balls pressing against your ass. Shuddering with pleasure, you scratch your nails up his arms as you sink into the bed.

“Pretty pussy was meant to take my cock.” Heeseung growls, already drunk on the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his dick. “Fuck. I know it’s wrong, baby, but I just couldn’t help myself. Your hot little cunt was just begging for my dick. Doesn’t it feel all nice and full having your pussy stuffed with your stepbrother’s big cock?"

Mina starts fucking herself harder when you nod desperately. Your hands go to tangle in his hair as you grind your hips up to meet his thrusts. “Yes! Fuck! Love my stepbrother’s cock stretching me open! Feels so fucking good, Hee!”

Mina knows better than anyone how good you must feel. Although, she imagines you feel must better than she ever did because from the way Heeseung’s fucking you, she can tell he’s doing it with much more enthusiasm and passion. Even his moans are more guttural and full of more pleasure than she’d ever heard. They’re deep as he pulls out until just his tip is spearing you open. Then, he pushes forward, thrusting his cock deep into your fluttering walls.

“That’s it. Tell me how good it feels.” Heeseung leans down, lips brushing against yours. “Don’t be shy, angel. Let me know how much you like this cock fucking you.”

You gasp wantonly and pull him down further to press your lips together. He groans and licks into your mouth easily, tongue slipping past your lips as his cock thrusts deep into your hot, wet cunt. Your hips buck up to meet his, loving how his dick rams into your sweet spot over and over until your sight is painted with pretty little stars.

“Fucking love it, Hee.” You moan between sloppy kisses. “God—I love your cock!”

The coil in Mina’s stomach is close to snapping. By now, her juices are dripping down to her wrist. Luckily, the lewd squelching and sound of skin slapping together drown out any noise she’s making. Heeseung is fucking you so hard and good that she can smell the musky scent of sex from where she’s standing. The erotic aroma turns her on even more, pussy clamping down on her fingers in desperate need of release.

“Tight little pussy feels so good.” Heeseung moans out between the quick pecks he’s giving you. “God, I love you, Y/N. So fucking much.”

Your heart races as Mina’s breaks all over again. It hurts, but somehow that just turns her on even more. She keeps fingering herself as tears pool in her eyes.

With a low moan, your pussy clamps down on Heeseung’s dick tightly as you go to eagerly kiss him. A soft I love you, too goes unnoticed by Mina, but not by your stepbrother. He groans into your mouth, cock throbbing inside you.

“Mmmh.” Heeseung hums against your lips before he trails wet kisses down your neck. “I love my gorgeous girl. That’s why this feels so good. Even your tight little pussy knows how much I love you.”

His gorgeous girl? Mina thinks deliriously, orgasm dangerously close. It’s something he never referred to her as.

You cry out loudly when Heeseung bites your neck and sucks the skin into his mouth. His hips rock against yours, balls smacking against your ass as his pelvis grinds down on your swollen clit.

“Seungie!” You whine in ecstasy. “I’m getting close.”

Your stepbrother doesn’t let up. In fact, his thrusts seem to get faster and rougher. His cock pistons in and out of your cunt, creating sloppy wet sounds as you get even wetter. His eyes are dark as he pulls back to look at you, all pretty squirming and trembling on his cock.

“Cum for me, baby. Cover my cock with your sweet cream so I can fill you up.” Heeseung pants. “Cum on my cock, angel.”

His teeth sink into your neck again, and it pushes you over the edge. Your hot cunt throbs as you squeeze down on his cock. Somehow your pussy only gets tighter and tighter as you get fucked through your orgasm. You tighten your legs around his waist until he can barely pull out, rutting his cock in short shallow thrusts as your climax starts to taper off.

“So fucking tight.” Heeseung hisses by your ear. “Shit, baby. Get ready. I’m about to creampie your cute little pussy. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

With a strangled grunt, he buries his cock to the hilt and shoots his load deep inside your fluttering walls while your pussy softly milks him for every drop of his hot cum. Mina reaches her own climax when she sees her boyfriend cumming inside you. She has to stifle her moans as she trembles and shakes outside the room that’s filled with the smell and sounds of hot sex.

“You’re taking it so well, angel.” Heeseung kisses your jaw tenderly as his fat tip spurts rope after rope of his thick cum into your clenching heat. “Milking my cock like I knew you would.”

He grinds his hips down, cock pulsing as he finishes stuffing you full of his hot, sticky load. Your stepbrother fucks his cum inside a bit more before reluctantly pulling out. Heeseung’s cock throbs as he watches his seed drip from your messy pussy.

He licks his lips, heated gaze never leaving your body. “Let’s do it again.”

You don’t try to protest as your manhandles into a different position. Mina is still coming down from her high when she realizes her boyfriend is still hard and about to fuck you again. She knows she shouldn’t feel excited or aroused by the fact, but she does. Especially when your face is shoved into one of Heeseung’s pillows just before his big cock rails back into your needy pussy.

Heeseung starts fucking you so hard his headboard slams into the wall repeatedly. The harsh sound pairs well with the plop plop plop sound coming from your cunt.

“God, Y/N. You’re so fucking good for me.” Heeseung groans when you clench down on him.

You moan loudly, bouncing yourself back on his cock. “Fu-Fuck, Seungie. This is wrong. We s-shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I know.” Your stepbrother smacks your ass, not sounding the least bit remorseful. “It’s so dirty baby, but I couldn’t help myself. Had to get my dick wet using your pretty little pussy.”

“Mmmh!” You whine out mindlessly, face turned to the side with your ass raised in the air for Heeseung to fuck deeper into your wet hole. “Feels so fucking good!”

“Yeah, it does.” Heeseung’s laugh sounds almost mean as he speeds up his thrusts to fuck his cock harder into your sopping cunt. “Your cute little pussy is the best I’ve ever had.”

His words shouldn’t please you as much as they do, but those lewd words turn you on so much that you can’t stop your cunt from tightening around him as he keeps spearing into you like an animal in heat. They also shouldn’t turn on Heeseung’s girlfriend but that’s exactly what they do. She isn’t angry, only extremely aroused as your ass bounces back on your stepbrother’s pelvis.

“Fuck!” Heeseung groans, fucking his cock right into your g-spot. “You’re so fucking hot, angel.”

You are. So hot that Mina finds herself wishing she could eat Heeseung’s cum out of your pretty cunt. She just knows you taste good, and mixed with her boyfriend she’s sure you must taste even better.

“Seungie, please!” You cry out, dizzy with arousal.

“Shit.” He growls, slipping a hand underneath your hips to rub fast circles on your clit. “Gonna make you cream on my cock again.”

“Heeseung!” You squeal as he picks up his pace, ramming into your squelching pussy as he rubs soft circles into your swollen clit.

Your stepbrother shoves his cock deep into your cunt and grinds, making you squirm and whine as his dick rubs against the spongy spot in your pussy. Your hands twist in the sheets. He flicks and pinches your puffy clit. God, do you look good, and so does Heeseung. Mina is groping one of her tits while the other hand goes to play with her pussy again. Briefly, she thinks she wouldn’t mind having a video of you two fucking so she can watch it over and over again.

“Hee, I’m gonna cum.” You moan against the pillow.

“Do it, baby.” He encourages you, free hand coming down to slap your ass hard. “Cum all over my cock. Want to feel your hot cunt squeeze me.”

It’s not long before your orgasm hits. You’re screaming into your pillow as your cream coats Heeseung’s big cock. Your pussy clamps rhythmically around his dick. Mina can’t see you, but with the way your toes are curling she can tell your eyes are rolling to the back of your head in pure ecstasy.

“Oh, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Heeseung praises you. His hands move to slap your ass again, making you squeal and tighten again. “Fucking work your little pussy on my cock. Fuck. Need to fill you up again.”

“Want you to stuff me full.” You whine back at him, pussy fluttering at the thought of Heeseung’s cum filling your cunt again.

“Yeah?” Your stepbrother laughs, sounding way too delighted. “Want me to creampie your hot little cunt again?”

“Please!” You whine as Heeseung’s fingers slide over your hip to start working soft circles into your clit again. You writhe back on him, feeling yourself get even wetter at the filthy thought of him shooting his hot load inside you.

“Cum inside me, Hee.” You pant, mewling when his fingers rub your clit even faster. “Want it so bad. Want to feel it.”

“Oh, fuck.” Heeseung groans, hips snapping hard against your ass when he feels how tight you’ve gotten. “You ready, baby? Fucking take it. Take your stepbrother’s cum in your needy little cunt.”

You moan loudly when you feel his hot cum filling your pussy, stuffing you so full it drips out around his cock. Heeseung ruts his spent cock into your sloppy pussy as he pinches your clit, watching as your back arches as a fourth orgasm sweeps through you. You lazily fuck your cunt back into him, loving the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and coating your thighs.

Heeseung pulls out of your warm cunt with a low groan. He’s quick to pull you against his chest and lays you down with him. His face is buried in your hair, eyes closed in bliss as you both try to catch your breaths. You feel his smile in your hair as he cuddles you and murmurs sweet praises against your temple.

Through your drooping eyes, you catch sight of Mina. Her eyes widen when you two make eye contact. You can’t hide your smirk when you see that she was masturbating to the sight of Heeseung fucking you raw. Instead of saying anything, you give her a seductive wink. Mina clenches around her fingers because the wink is full of understanding and promises.

It’s clear that Heeseung was never hers, but maybe you wouldn’t mind sharing.

#heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader

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berry-potchy · 11 months

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Dad's Best Friend!Miguel O'Hara blurb because I'm obsessed

UPDATE: Part 2

I love the DBF!Miguel O'Hara scenarios that have you sneaking around and fucking while your family is around and unaware BUT consider:

DBF!Miguel O'Hara who offered to let you stay at his place when you moved out for college. You don't have to worry about rent or anything because he'll take care of everything. He'll take care of you.

It all seemed so good and innocent at the start. You even got to have the place to yourself most of the days because of his demanding job. Miguel said you can bring your friends over but no romantic partners or flings allowed. Not that you had anyone in that way when you're so busy yearning for Miguel. You've had a crush on him since forever and every time you tried to get into a relationship or have sex with anyone, anyone your age, your mind always compared them to Miguel. For the longest time you were hopelessly yearning, convinced that he'd never return your feelings until one night.

You were lying in bed trying to catch your breath after fucking your pussy raw with your vibrator thinking about how hot Miguel looked that morning in his nice suit, ready for an important business meeting he had. You were about to fall asleep when you felt the bed dip and suddenly Miguel was pulling you close to him, your back against his chest. Your bare ass still wet from your own slick, flushed against his erection and the only barrier that separated you was the same sexy suit you had been fantasizing about. He was so big, he felt bigger than how you imagined him and your cunt throbbed, seemingly ready to be used and abused again.

He kissed your neck, licking and sucking, marking you as his while murmuring how long he had been wanting to do this. He heard you moaning his name when you thought he was going to come home late and he immediately called in his office to tell them he's taking a sick leave. He's going to spend that time fucking you, on every surface in the house, making up for all those times you teased him in the mornings just walking around in an oversized shirt and no bra. You didn't even wear shorts around him, gave him a show of your cute ass, trying to reach mugs from the high kitchen shelves. He had to go shamefully jerk off in his car just so he didn't have to go to work with a very obvious boner. How'd he explain that to your dad when he inevitably bumped into him in the office? His precious little daughter living under the same roof as this pervert?

Hearing you moan his name while you fucked your slutty cunt was the last straw, all his self restraint went out the window. He took your vibrator from your hand and let it overstimulate your swollen clit but immediately take it away when he feels you almost going over the edge. You whine and beg him to let you cum but he just laughs. He promised you'll cum plenty of times, more than you can handle.

Of course he eats your pretty pussy out and fuck you all night in so many different ways, in positions you never even heard of. Your pussy was swollen and oversensitive, and you're pretty sure your cervix is deliciously bruised. Miguel kisses your pussy as an apology but gets distracted and tongue fucks you and makes you cum again.

You slowed down some time in the morning. Miguel made you breakfast but soon enough you found yourself bent over the kitchen counter getting railed again. You don't know how this man had that much stamina at his age. You were getting close to cumming when you heard your phone ring. Your dad was calling you. You helplessly looked back at Miguel, expecting him to stop so you can pick up the call but he didn't stop and clicked the answer button for you. Your dad happily greets you over the phone wondering how you're doing and you tried to keep your voice steady and told him everything's good and uni was going great. Miguel leaned over, pressing his chest on your back and driving his cock deeper and harder into you. It took everything in you not to cry in pleasure and you wondered if your dad can hear the erotic sounds of Miguel's cock abusing your sopping wet hole and his balls slapping your aching clit.

Your dad told you he heard Miguel was taking a sick leave which he has never done befor. He was convinced that he must be really sick for that workaholic to finally take a break so he asked you to take care of his best friend for him. You told him not to worry because you were taking really good care of him.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x female reader #potchy-writes #potchy-thoughts #spiderman 2099 x reader #dbf!miguel

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arachine · 8 months

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yes, i'm ready (to fall in love)

── ˚₊✩‧₊ genre: smut, fluff, mild angst

── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis: after reader is persuaded into putting herself back out there by long time friend, shoko, she successfully ends up scoring a date. unbeknownst to her, though, the gods have different plans—and one of them seems especially interested in her relationship with ex-husband, gojo satoru.

or in other words: a failed date results in a night of passion amongst former lovers.

── ˚₊✩‧₊ contents: 13.5k words, ex-husband!gojo + co-parent!gojo, slight dub-con (alcohol use), dumbification, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, unconventional form of contraception (pull-out method - don’t do this), pussy eating + one oc for the sake of plot

── ˚₊✩‧₊ note: i know this is really long and most people don’t have the attention span for it but PLEASE give it a chance! this is literally the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written and i’m really proud of it :(

songs to listen to for best reading experience: donny hathaway - i love you more than you’ll ever know barbara mason - i’m ready partynextdoor - showing you bryson tiller - been that way

After you divorced your ex-husband, and decided to devote all of your time to being a mother, you never really considered getting back into the dating world. Not that you didn’t eventually want to settle down with someone new, but the dating world now was just so–different.

Different in the sense that meeting people organically was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like how it used to be in high school or college, and it really didn’t take that much effort then to get a man’s number by the end of your outing.

When you were in your early twenties, a brush of your hand on a man’s arm would’ve worked. An ‘accidental’ bump into someone at a grocery store or cafe might’ve ended in a quick lay. Using these tactics today, though, might earn you some weird looks–have–earned you some weird looks.

You’re on call with a friend from college when you begin recounting something embarrassing that happened to you recently. At first, the conversation started out about all of the professors you would’ve slept with (if given the chance), but then, one thing led to another, and she asked you something that made you wince:

“‘How’s your dating life been since, you know, Satoru?’”

There’s a heavy silence from your end, and she almost thinks you hung up.

“I mean, if you want to share,” she splurts, attempting to approach this gently, “I know that after the divorce, I wasn’t there for you like you needed, but I’d like to make up for that–if you’d let me.”

Shoko’s always been like that. Blunt and charismatic, but gentle and zephyr-light in the way she cares for those closest to her. It’s a trait of hers that you admire, because not so many people would care to treat your heart with such fragility.

“No, it’s okay. You can ask, you know, it’s not this secret thing,” you start, sighing before continuing, “it happened, and it was a mutual decision.”

Shoko hums on the other side, “Well, I’m still sorry. I let us go without talking for far too long…”

“Well, I accept your apology, even if it’s unwarranted. Like I said, it was mutual and…there wasn’t really an intense grieving period for me? The only thing that hurt me is that you distanced yourself. I mean, the girls did miss their aunt Shoko…” you say, trying to make her feel bad but not too bad.

“I know, I know, I’m a bad aunt,” she jests, then the tone shifts to something serious. “I think I was just scared because both of you were my best-friends. I didn’t want to ‘pick sides’, but I see now that it was a mutual decision, so I’m assuming you two are on good-terms?”

Again, you pause, “I mean, yeah. Satoru will always be my best friend. We may not be together romantically but he’s such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t do this–all of this–alone.” After you say it, you feel a weight being lifted off of your chest that you didn’t know was even there.

You think nobody would understand if you told them this. You think they’d question how a person could divorce someone who’s supposed to be their best-friend. And with the way you describe it, they’d probably think you were still in love with him. But Shoko’s different, she gets it. Which is why saying it to her came so easily.

“He is a great father,” she chimes in, “but you two rushed into it so quickly, I don’t think either of you had time to discover yourselves after college.”

Although she can’t see it, you smile. Because she gets it. Even if time did place itself in between the two of you, she was there for most of it, when things were still touch-and-go. When things were fresh, and clumsy.

“Exactly, that was our biggest gripe,” you admit, “We didn’t afford ourselves that time to grow, and I think that hindered our relationship. We weren’t husband and wife first, we were parents–and we were young, way too young.”

“You made it, though,” Shoko tries to brighten the mood, “you’re both amazing parents, and I know those beautiful girls that you created are lucky to have you.”

The intimacy of the conversation sends your emotions into overdrive. You quickly realize how much you missed her, how much you yearned to talk to her. To reconnect on this level.

A single tear cascades down your cheek, and you try not to sound like you’re crying when you say, “Ok, enough about that. You wanted to know about my shitty dating life, right?”

It happened last week, the grocery store incident. You were out picking up a few things for dinner when you spotted a cute guy standing outside of the aisle a few rows from you. He was fit beyond measure, in looks and strength, and was wandering around aimlessly in pursuit of red pepper flakes.

Coincidentally, you just happened to be in the seasoning aisle, and like the good samaritan you were, decided to personally hand-deliver it to him.

You wince as you vividly recall the embarrassing ordeal that ensued immediately after.

“Hey,” you peer from behind the aisle, with a bottle of red pepper flakes in tow. “I heard you mumbling about finding this, and you looked pretty lost, so I thought I’d pick ‘em out for you.”

The man’s brows furrow briefly before his lips up-turn into a grateful smile, “Oh, cool, thank you so much!” As quickly as the conversation started, it ends even quicker. He gives you a final nod of endearment before he’s turning around on his heels to resume his shopping.

“God, could he be any more dense? The men today really make you work for it, huh?” you mumble to yourself, pulling the bosom of your blouse down until a good amount of cleavage is on display. “Okay, alright. You got this, you got this. This always used to work, right? Yeah, men love boobs.”

Walking up to the man again, you try a different approach–a bolder approach. “Not to be a bother but I was wondering if I could-”

“Babe? Oh, there you are,” a new voice interjects. The owner of the voice emerges from around the corner and walks up to the man with a cart and a baby in tow. You’re stunned, to say the least. All you can do is stand there and blink in complete and utter dumbfoundment. As you remain in their presence, you take a moment to analyze the woman. She’s gorgeous, and toned. A real model-type broad, with feline-ish features that make so much sense paired with the man who appears to be her partner.

Oh, you think, and apparently say aloud, too. That’s when the woman turns to you, finally acknowledging your much smaller, and much quieter presence.

“Hi, can we help you?” she smiles, and it’s actually genuine. Toothy and perfect, and totally not jealous. You blink once, twice, before gathering your wits to answer her question.

“Yeah, uh, no. I actually, uhm, was helping your h-husband. He was looking for red pepper flakes,” you mutter embarrassedly, and point to the bottle in his hand. Upon further observation, you notice that she isn’t exactly wearing a ring. You find this odd, especially because his not wearing a ring is what encouraged you to pursue him. Carefully, you prod.

“If I may ask, how come neither of you are wearing rings?” The couple gives each other a look, one that makes you feel like the odd man out. A look that is universally known, and without a doubt, could easily be translated to: ‘did this chick really just ask that?’

Still, you smile as you wait for an answer. The woman takes the initiative. “Yeah, we don’t really believe in rings, isn’t that right, babe?” she says so matter-of-factly. You blink again for what seems like the thousandth time, because of all things, you did not expect that to come out of her mouth. Her husband is quick to validate her statement.

“Yeah, we think rings are unnecessary, you know? You don’t need a piece of metal to confirm your feelings,” he says walking to his partner’s side and wrapping an arm around her.

Disgustingly, the two give each other googly eyes before locking lips briefly. You can tell they’re the type to probably share this information with just about any soul who asks. Today, you just happened to be that unfortunate soul.

“Are you married?” she queries, tilting her head against her husband’s chest.

“I was, now we just…co-parent,” you purse your lips, ready for this entire interaction to be over. The woman frowns at your answer, and this time it’s not as genuine.

“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was actually a mutual decision,” you quip.

“Okay,” she smiles, widening her eyes at her husband to signal a departure, “well, it was nice meeting you, and thank you for the red pepper flakes.”

The family turns away and heads to the front where check-out is. You don’t even buy the items you intended to purchase, just leave your cart in the middle of whatever aisle you abandoned it and leave the store.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t?” Shoko asks in horror. You nod your head, still forgetting she can’t see you and the way you’re sliding down against the wall.

“I did, and I shan't ever again,” a laugh erupts from your throat.

“I mean, fuck, are we getting old? ‘Don’t believe in rings,’” she mumbles, “Don’t believe in rings, my ass! Is this what the youth are doing these days? Not proposing with rings?”

Now that you think about it, you wonder how that would even work. “Yeah, right? I mean, how does that even work? ‘Will you marry me? But, actually, you should know I don’t have a ring for you, so people will have to guess that we’re together purely based on vibes and energy,’” you mock, in a not-so-great man voice.

Shoko’s laughing so hard by the end of your bit that she breaks the sound barrier, and the sound that makes on the phone sends you into your own fit of laughter. You laugh so hard it seems like a stream of pee comes out. Curse your developed incontinence after motherhood.

“God, you’re so stupid, I can’t breathe,” she says exasperatedly, and you know that on the other side she’s probably keeling over in her bed.

“Oh, please. I bet you haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, bitch.”

“I haven’t,” she cackles. This back-and-forth continues until the two of you settle down enough to continue discussing your (pee-inducing) love life.

“You tried any dating apps?”

It’s a simple and valid question, but it only makes you laugh even harder. You only stop when the other side of the line goes quiet. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. It’s what everyone’s doing these days! You’re not that old, you know.”

“Shut up,” you kid, “ it’s just that I never considered it. I mean, dating apps feel so impersonal. How serious do people even take it?”

“Sure, there’s people who use it for casual hook-ups and stuff, but a lot of people do come out of it with a relationship. Just don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”

“Oh?” you muse, curious. You wish Shoko could see your face, and the weird little dance your brows were doing. “Shoko, have you used a dating app before?”

The brunette kisses her teeth. “Can’t get anything past you.”

“Never.”

There’s a sense of hesitance but you encourage her to elaborate because ‘she became estranged from you for almost a decade and needed to pay her dues’. Sighing defeatedly, she eventually acquiesces.

“Fine, fine, maybe I’ve…been on a few dates,” she starts, “–and had a few one night stands, maybe more than a few, and maybe even dated a guy that turned into my stalker–”

“Ieiri Shoko! You naughty, naughty girl! Wait, stalker?”

“To make a long story short, I got a restraining order on that creep. Anyway,” she segues, attempting to change the subject, “We should make you a profile!”

For the rest of your phone call, Shoko guides you through all of the dating app basics. She offers her expert advice as you scroll through your camera roll for potential photos to use. You go through about a hundred before you finally settle on five that she really likes.

The one that she tells you to put first is a photo of you in a bikini. It’s a few years old but she says you look ‘radiant’ and that your ‘tits were practically spilling out of the cups’. Plus, for further consolation, she says most people on dating apps are liars.

“Everyone’s got at least one old photo on their profile, doesn’t make you a catfish,” she quips, “just means you’re a nostalgic person!”

“Right…”

The next one is a selfie. You’re smiling big in it, showing your gums, and it’s genuine. Shoko says guys like those types of photos because it shows them that you’re approachable. It also won her over because it’s fairly recent, too.

Out of all your photos, there’s only a select few that were taken within the year. You had to admit to her that you never really took photos of yourself anymore. Satoru took most of your candids. Still, she had a mission. And she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she stuck around to see your first match.

“After the selfie you should put the one of you with the girls.”

The picture she’s referring to is one Satoru also took. You remember that day fondly, and even now, the memories feel like a warm embrace.

about 8 years ago . . .

“Dad, mom, look! Hurry!” Hana, your oldest, shouts. Satoru and you are sitting on a blanket up on the sand dunes with Haruki, who’s trying her best to make a sand castle–to no avail.

“What is it, hon?” Satoru and you rush over to her, snatching toddler Haruki in the same breath. When you get to the scene, a flood of warmth washes over you upon discovering the ‘threat’.

“See, it’s baby turtles!” Hana’s squatting in the sand, watching with pure and unfettered fascination as the hatchlings crawl north to the ocean. When she looks up at you, with eyes so bright, and a smile so big that’s missing two of her front teeth, you want to cry.

“Oh, hon, that’s beautiful,” you gasp, lowering to your haunches so that you can join her. Satoru is about to follow suit before deciding at the last minute to go back to the blanket. When he returns, he snaps a picture unbeknownst to you. Eventually, though, you turn your gaze to him and he captures–what he used to think then–the ‘prettiest’ photo of you.

“You sneaking photos of me?” you squint, pointing at him. He trods closer until he’s standing above you. Then he snaps another. Your head’s tilted up, and you’ve got one eye open, and the other closed because of the sun. He always liked when you squinted like that because it made your nose do this cute little scrunch.

“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”

You’re pulled out of your daydream when Shoko says your name on the other line.

“You still there?”

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“Just what?” she queries, waiting for a response.

“I wanna use it, but my ex-husband took it. It feels weird, you know? And do I want to use a photo of me with the girls?”

“Hon, who cares if Satoru took the photo? It’s still a good photo, and to answer your second question, why wouldn’t you include a picture with your girls?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just afraid no one will be interested. Nothing about a picture of a mom with her two daughters exactly screams ‘fuck me’.”

Shoko lets out a small chuckle but you’re being serious. “Oh, sweetie. You’re so cute. Milfs are in these days, I don’t think I’m the one getting old, I think it’s just you!”

“Ha-ha, laugh at the mom,” you feign annoyance, but give her a laugh in return.

“But seriously, please use that photo. Nobody’s going to skip you just because you’re a mom. A lot of men on there have kids of their own, just gotta tweak your settings,” Shoko reassures you.

By the end of your call, the profile is set. You thank your old friend for the previous heart-to-heart conversation, and the time she spent helping you set up your profile.

“Keep me updated, and don’t talk about mom stuff, okay? Now, I’m not saying you can’t talk about them,” she begins, “but show these guys your personality! I know she’s in the closet somewhere hiding next to our old slutty clubbing clothes.”

Then, the both of you say your goodbyes and she wishes you a good-luck on your newly established dating journey. As you lay in your bed, you give your profile a final onceover. Not too bad, you think to yourself.

You ended up using all of the photos she had originally picked out for you. Even the beach photo. To compensate for your old photos, though, Shoko made sure that your prompts were witty and full of personality.

“I’d match me, I think. No, yeah, these are funny. She did a good job.”

The following day, you open your phone to fifty notifications from the dating app. A tingle of excitement shoots through your body from the tip of your toes, to the top of your head. It takes all of your might not to squeal in the office.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper at your desk. The amount of notifications that you initially saw on your homescreen read ‘50’ but when you opened the app, it showed you an overwhelming ‘100’ with a fat plus sign next to it. “Wait, are these all the people who liked me? Shoko’s gonna flip.”

Getting up from your chair, you make a beeline to the nearest bathroom. Not that you have to use it, but so you can scroll through all the potential prospects without your boss seeing you on your phone.

Pulling open the door to the bathroom, you close it shut behind you and lock it. A few minutes pass in the time you’re able to get through about half of the people who liked you. You end up skipping a lot of them. They’re either too young, too self-absorbed, creepy, or just downright not your type.

Some stick out, though. Even trick you into thinking they’re potential matches, but then the other shoe drops–because there’s always another shoe. You’ll scroll through their profiles, and they’ll seemingly have all the perfect traits: intelligent, witty, handsome, tall–and then, boom. You see their ‘don’t want kids’ preference. Every failed match only discourages you more and more.

It’s weird, because your profile preferences are set to ‘have kids’ and you even have a photo pictured with your girls. So why are men liking your profile despite that? After a few more scrolls, you’re just about ready to head back to your desk but then–you have a hit.

Your finger hovers over the ‘x’ at the bottom of the screen, then retracts. The guy’s profile at first impression is miles better than the rest, it’s almost too good to be true. His first photo is what piqued your interest. It’s of him posing for a silly photo with his sons, and he’s got his arms draped around their shoulders.

As you scroll down his profile, you see that there’s even more of him with his children. You take this as a green flag. He wants people to know he has kids, and that he isn’t embarrassed to show them off. You admire him for it.

The last few remaining photos are an amalgamation of selfies and full-body photos. To the average, well-adjusted adult, looks wouldn’t be a deal breaker. But he definitely wasn’t too bad on the eyes, and you were not complaining about that–especially, after the odd men you had to scroll through to get here. In other words, he was gorgeous and still fit despite being older than you (him, respectively being in his early forties).

Checking the time on your phone, you realize that you’re pushing your little ‘bathroom break’. Before heading back to your desk, you decide to respond to his first photo.

You: Cute! Could never get my girls to stand so still for a photo like this now haha :)

Work goes by slower than you’d like, but finishes up just in time when you get a notification from the dating app. You’re a little more excited than you’d care to admit. Tidying up your workspace, you say your goodbyes to your colleagues and head to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, you rush to answer his message but realize it won’t go through because of the elevator’s poor service.

Kazuki: Oh, they’re moody and grown now, don’t be fooled. I can't remember the last time I saw my youngest smile.

You don’t answer his reply until you get home. Actually, you do just about everything but answer his reply: check on the girls, shower, prepare dinner, pour a glass of wine–you’re nervous, and you don’t know why. But you know you should probably answer soon before he becomes disinterested. So you get comfortable in bed with your glass of wine and pull open his chat.

You: Lol, know that all too well. Kids are little assholes, aren’t they?

The speed in which he reads your text is startling, you don’t even have enough time to close out of the chat. Then, he responds.

Kazuki: Hell yeah they are!

Kazuki: Sometimes I want to strangle my youngest. He’s at that age where he’s starting to rebel and question everything. I told him he was supposed to be the ‘easy’ one, but his knucklehead brothers are bad influences on him…Tell me, does it ever get easier?

You: Sounds a lot like my oldest. She used to cling to me like a koala but now she’s the ring leader, and I’m the enemy. My youngest still loves her mama, though (for now lol).

You: And to answer your question, I’d like to think so?

You take a second before continuing your response. Shoko told you to keep the mom talk limited, but this seems to be working for you so far, and he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. So for once, you’re going to ignore her advice.

You: Kids go through phases. It's our job to reassure them that we’re not going anywhere. No matter how much they push us away or try to, that is :)

Kazuki’s chat bubbles pop up, then disappear. You think he’s deciding on what to say.

Kazuki: I can tell we’re gonna get along great. It’s nice opening up like this, you know? Talking to another parent. If I'm being honest, dating apps have always intimidated me…

Kazuki: People see kids as ‘baggage’, and it really bothers me. My kids aren’t baggage. They’re the best parts of me. And if someone doesn’t see that, then we have no business getting to know each other.

Kazuki: Sorry for getting all sappy. Just felt like I needed to say it.

His apology makes you frown. It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear someone talk about their kids so lovingly, because you feel the exact same way. You’re glad you downloaded the app, and you make a mental note to thank Shoko again later (after you debrief her about this).

You: Never apologize for speaking about your kids! And if we’re being absolutely transparent, that was my biggest gripe with downloading this app, too.

You: I’m so glad we matched each other. I’d like to get to know you more. And I’m hoping the feeling’s mutual?

Kazuki: It’s more than mutual.

Kazuki: Don’t want to get ahead of myself but how do you feel about dinner? There’s a cool high-scale restaurant in the city that I haven’t been to yet. Heard it’s got two Michelin stars despite opening up not too long ago.

The prospect of going on a sit-down dinner date has your stomach in knots. It’s been a hot minute since the last time you’ve done so, but you’re eager to know the man behind the screen on a more personal level. Plus, being treated to a high-scale restaurant with two Michelin stars doesn’t seem too bad either. You’re never one to turn down free dinner.

You: I’d love to, but how soon we talkin’? Gotta see if it’ll align with my schedule.

Kazuki: How’s this Friday at 8 sound? :)

The days leading up to Friday breeze by in a blur. For the majority of the week, it feels like you’re walking on cloud nine. Eventually, the conversation transitions from the dating app to exchanging phone numbers, and since then, the two of you have been texting back-and-forth everyday.

You talk about mundane things. Work, shows, movies, books you’ve recently read, what your kids are up to–but the other things? The other messages are flirty, and sexy, and filled with so much tension that it could cut a rope in half.

In between messages, the two of you have also exchanged a few photos. Nothing risqué or anything of that nature, just random photos of you throughout the day. The last one he sent was a few hours ago of him at work, captioned with: ‘Could this meeting be any longer?’.

You reply to the message with the ‘ha ha’ reaction, in consideration of not wanting to get him in trouble at work (even if he was the one who initiated the conversation). As the days go by, though, you make it a habit to update Shoko every step of the way.

Her first reaction to hearing about him was enthusiastic. That is, until you showed her screenshots from his profile. You vaguely remember her saying something that was meant as a compliment, but came out more like an insult.

“‘Oh, he’s a dad!” was her initial response, “oh, he’s a dad…and he really loves his kids. You’re meant for each other.’”

When you tried to ask her what she meant by that, she changed the subject. Every update since then has earned slightly more positive reactions, though.

Today, you ask her for more advice. Only this time, you’re on video call.

“Shokoooo,” you drawl, “our date is tomorrow! You have to help me find something to wear.” The panic in your voice is so palpable, she can almost feel your shaky hands through the screen. Flipping the camera, you hurriedly pan your phone around the closet.

“Breathe, girl, breathe,” she demonstrates first, before telling you to repeat the same motions. “Take me to that section over there–no, not that one–wait, yep, there.” You amble over to the area she’s directing you to through the phone.

“What’s that black little number right there?” She points. You prop the phone up on a shelf and scour through the section, tugging out a dress you haven’t seen in ages (which has you questioning how she even spotted it because it was pretty far back into the closet). Walking back into frame, you hold the fabric up to your body.

Shoko nods in approval, “That’s the one, babe. Try it on!”

It’d been about a decade since the last time you wore this dress. It’d also been about a decade since you were ever this small. Looking in the mirror, you run your hands over every surface inch, every crevice of the dress, in a newfound sense of appreciation for the adult weight you’ve gained since becoming a mother.

The dress was always stunning but it hugged everything perfectly even more so now. When you walk back into frame, your friend gives you a look of pure adoration. She’s so enthralled that she snaps a few screenshots for keepsaking.

“Thank god it’s Satoru’s turn to get the kids tonight,” she says, “‘cause you’re definitely getting some tonight.”

You roll your eyes, reminding her she’s on speaker phone. “Oh, please. It’s just dinner!”

“Not in that dress,” she retorts, wagging her finger in the camera. While the two of you continue to chat about the details of tonight, a knock on your bedroom door draws your attention.

“Mom, can I come in?” the voice sounds. It’s Haruki.

“Come in, hon!”

After you give the ok, you turn to Shoko and mouth to her to behave. Haruki turns the knob and enters, closing the door behind her. She sees you standing in front of the mirror before you see her, and silently utters a ‘wow’. You’re just about done putting your earrings in when you join her in the other room.

“What do you think, bun? Does your mom look hot?” you spin around, smoothing your hands down the length of the dress. You wait in anticipation for her approval, because if anyone could tell it like it is, it was always going to be a kid. Your Haruki was no exception.

“You look really pretty, Mom. I’m glad you’re going out tonight, I mean, you don’t really have friends so I think this will be good for you,” she elaborates, though you wish she would’ve stopped at the compliment.

Still, it puts a smile on your face to hear her verbalize that she’s okay with you doing something for yourself. You never quite discussed the prospect of getting back out there with your kids–and not even intentionally. It just never felt like the right time.

“You could’ve stopped at the compliment, punk!” you grab her, then wrap her in your arms, “but thank you. Love you, bun.”

“Love you more, mama.” Neither of you make the effort to pull away. Instead, you both stand there. Hugging, breathing, embracing each other’s warmth. You don’t always get hugs this good, so when you do, you savor it. Drag it out until your arms and legs get all tingly.

Or until someone interrupts. Another knock on the door. This time it’s Hana.

“Ew, what’s going on?” Hana feigns a look of disgust. You know she’s just jealous; she’ll never admit it, though. Which is why sometimes you have to force her to participate.

“Get over here,” you scrunch your nose, forcefully pulling her into your tight embrace. She tries to protest but eventually accepts defeat. You squeeze them both until they whine that they can’t breathe anymore. Then you squeeze them some more because this one’s for you.

“My special girls,” you breathe in, taking in all of their love. Soaking it all up so that tonight you have the courage to try again. To allow yourself a love of your own. When you let go, there’s a sniffle from the closet. It totally dawned on you that Shoko was still on the phone.

“They’re so big now, they don’t even know their auntie,” she fakes a sob, blowing her nose into a tissue.

“Mom, who’s on the phone?” Haruki queries with a confused expression etched onto her face. It suddenly dawns on you again that although you’ve been communicating with Shoko again, you haven’t exactly told them.

“Hey, you came in here to tell me something right, Han?” Your attempt to change the subject is poorly done, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you considering deflection has never quite been an ability you excelled at. Nonetheless, the look of suspicion they give you after is fleeting before they explain to you in unison that their father is here.

“Your father’s been waiting down there this whole time and nobody cared to tell me?” you whisper-yell, left eye twitching to emphasize your ill-preparedness. The girls only shrug their shoulders in response, like this was something you were just supposed to know.

“Well, you did force us into a hug and make us do all that Kumbaya stuff,” Hana mumbles under her breath.

“Okay, enough about all that. Are you guys all packed? Where are your bags? I don’t want your dad seeing–”

“You don’t want dad to see your date, right?” Hana raises a brow, all knowing. Sometimes she was a little too smart for her own good. You want to blame that on the private schools Satoru had them enrolled in, but really you just know she’s just a menace in her own right. She learned that from him.

“I agree with the kid,” a voice chimes in. You rush to the closet and grab your phone from the shelf. There’s a huge, shit-eating grin on Shoko’s face. Somehow she’s responsible for this. You don’t know how yet, nor do you have proof, but you know it.

“Okay, thank you, love you, bye!” Before you can hang up, Shoko blurts something.

“Tell him I said hi,” she begins, “–andnottogetahardonwhenheseesyou!”

You hang up the call and roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself because of her idiocy. When you enter the corridor, you hear a faint sound of hushed voices from downstairs. It’s only when you round the bannister at the top, when those voices become discernible and louder.

You stop at the top, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like all the air in your lungs have expelled. Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of what you’re wearing, and the fabric, and the way it clings to your body. Neither he, nor you, look away–you should, you want to, but you don’t.

And in the time the two of you gaze upon the other, time stops for a modicum of a second. In this second, you and him are the last two souls in the world. At least, that’s how it feels anyway before he breaks eye contact.

You shift your gaze shortly after, and put on a trained smile. Those eyes of his were always so intense. You guess you forgot over the years how easy it was to lose yourself in the crystalline pools of them. Gathering your wits, you resume your movements and saunter down the imperial staircase.

“Hey, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Sort of lost track of time, but I think the girls are all packed,” you say, your voice coming to a decrescendo upon noticing the way his eyes trail over your frame. They’re unreadable, though. Indifferent, and honestly, you’re not sure how to feel. So, you begin fidgeting uncomfortably with the rings around your finger.

Then, he smiles. It’s eerie and fake. “Not a problem, I haven’t been here too long. But, uh,” he begins ambling around the place, touching random objects around the living room, “Didn’t know you had plans. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with your colleagues?”

You furrow your brows, confused with his sudden interests in your plans. It wasn’t really like him to prod. “No, actually,” you rock back-and-forth on the balls of your heels, “i’m…i’m going on a date,” you finish with a pursed smile. He only nods his head in response, still walking around the place touching stuff, messing with the picture frames on the mantle. They’re all crooked now.

“How come this is the only picture you have up of me,” he asks suddenly. You know, that he knows, the answer to that. And he knows, that you know, you’ll indulge in his games anyway.

“The girls wanted them in their rooms. Why do you ask? You want me to go grab them and put ‘em all up around the house?” Again, he doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a final once over before heading back to the foyer to ask if the girls are all set to go.

“Yeah, but I can’t find my tablet, dad. Can I go look for it?” Haruki speaks up. “I thought I packed it.”

Satoru looks at the time on his watch, pinches the crease in between his brows. “Sure, kiddo. Can we make it quick, please?” He throws his hand in the air for emphasis, then points to his watch. Haruki nods, then runs up the stairs.

“Actually, you go on up too and help your sister. You guys are holding up dad,” you turn to Hana and gesture for her to head up with your head. She rolls her eyes, yelling up the stairs for her younger sister to ‘freaking hurry up’.

You and Satoru both turn to each other with wide eyes, laughing at the nerve of those children.

“They get that attitude from you, you know,” you point to him, driving your index finger into his bicep.

“You sure? Their mom’s got a pretty bad mouth on her, too. Or, have you forgotten?” He teases, bending his knees slightly to level his eyes with yours, intruding into your space. The smirk he dons is cheeky, too friendly–too inviting. You want to smack it off of him.

“Oh, shut u–” the sound of your phone chiming interrupts your banter. It’s a message from Kazuki, and you open it while Satoru stands over you. Probably close enough to read the message on his own if he wanted.

Kazuki: Hey, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can go through with tonight.

When you read the message, your heart drops into your stomach. There goes the other shoe, you think, fully embracing your pessimism. Who were you kidding, really? To think that tonight you’d go out and have a good time. Do something for yourself. It was stupidity.

Chat bubbles pop up on the screen. He has more to say.

He has more to say, and you’re fighting the urge to cry–to not shake out of sheer frustration while you’re still standing in front of Satoru. Because nothing would be worse than him seeing you can’t even land a date.

Kazuki: I recently just went through a divorce, and I know that I should have informed you about this before continuing our conversations…Especially since you’ve been so transparent with me about your own divorce and strife.

Kazuki: But if I’m being completely honest, I was scared. I genuinely wanted to see this through, at first. I wanted to forget about my ex-wife for just one night. But I realized I’ve been asking the impossible of myself…I’m still in love with her, and it’s because I’m in love with her that I won’t allow myself to lead you on any further.

Kazuki: I think we would’ve had a good time tonight. It's unfortunate we had to meet under such circumstances because you’re a really lovely woman, and I’m sorry an asshole is standing you up right now.

Kazuki: Take care. I know there’s a guy out there just waiting for his shot.

Satoru takes notice of the way your face drops as you read over the messages. Part of him wants to overstep his boundaries and take a peek at the screen. But he doesn’t. He gives you your space and takes a seat on the couch, waits for you to say something first.

In the meantime, he studies your face. Watches intently as your eyes become glossy the more you scan the messages, watches as your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hold back from crying. He thinks he knows what just happened.

Taking a deep breath, you lock your phone and put on another trained smile, “Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.” Satoru dislikes when you do that. When you put on a fake smile and overcompensate to make others around you feel better, even when it’s so very obvious you aren’t. He wishes that sometimes you would just be selfish–act out.

And then you continue the façade. It makes his skin itch.

“I was too tired anyway, guess I can just catch up o–”

“Will you stop,” he spits, rising from his seat on the couch to stand. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he doesn’t regret it. You look at him like he’s got two heads as he walks over to the mantle and leans against it. His back is turned towards you, and the palms of his hands hold the crest of it. He uses it as leverage to rock on the heels of his feet. You can tell there’s something he wants to say because of the way his jaw ticks.

Satoru is never one to bite his tongue, so you’re not exactly sure why he’s choosing to be so restrained. If he wasn’t going to spit it out, you were going to poke. “What’s your problem?”

He chuckles at this, rubs his chin then pushes off the mantle to stand in front of you, gets all in your space again. The movement almost sends you back but you hold your ground, tilt your chin up at him and repeat the question. Slowly, this time with more venom.

“My problem? What’s your problem?” He breathes through his nose, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between your own. “Why do you always pretend like you’re not lonely? It’s okay if you were looking forward to having fun tonight. It’s okay to be upset and be mad at the asshole who stood you up!”

With every verbal prod at you, the gap between you decreases. His feet inch closer and closer to your own and force you to retreat farther until your back hits the wall. The coldness of it causes your breath to hitch, and you try to stay calm as Satoru encroaches more into your personal space. Being on the receiving end of his passion was always suffocating, you feel exposed under the intensity of his gaze–even more so as he continues to tear into you.

“Why do you even care?!” you cut him off, eyes wide and veins pumping full of adrenaline. “It’s not your place to be so invested in my life anymore! We’re not together, you don’t have to get so hot and bothered about things going shitty for me. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.”

By the time you finish, you’re a heaving, shaking mess. He takes this as a sign to withdraw from your space, and goes to sit back down on the couch. When you finally settle your nerves, you join him, leaving a foot of space in between you. There’s an awkward silence, one that wouldn’t have even happened if he just respected your boundaries in the first place. Now he feels like the asshole instead of the actual asshole who dumped you. Taking a hesitant breath, he decides to speak up.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…It wasn’t my intention to come off so strong like that,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t always have to pretend to be fine. It’s not fair, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.” His eyes wander over to you reluctantly, like he’s scared that if he looks too long you’ll disengage from the conversation.

“It’s okay,” your voice is small, just above a whisper. You want to face him, but you know that if you do, you'll break into a million pieces. So you keep your gaze downward, busy yourself with the stray pieces of thread on the bottom of your dress. “You’re right, you know. I think I just…I think I just tell myself to expect disappointment so that when something bad happens, I’ll know it’s not because I got my hopes up.”

Satoru turns to you, and you can see him frown through your peripheral. Still, you don’t face him because you’re not done talking. But you thank him silently for listening without interrupting.

“Even though you’re right, I don’t appreciate the way you came on so strongly. We’re not married anymore, we’re not a couple–we’re co-parents. So if there’s something I want you to know about that’s outside of the scope of our kids, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, leave it alone.”

Satoru’s face softens. For once you’re being selfish, putting your foot down. This is the side of you he likes. “Okay. I respect that,” he says, “But can I ask you something?” The smile on his face is mirthful, like he’s got something else up his sleeves this evening. Skeptical, you finally face him with a raised brow.

“What?”

“Let me take you to dinner.”

You laugh in his face, even go as far as smacking his arm because you want him to know you found the joke really funny. He doesn’t budge, and that’s when you realize he’s being serious.

“Wait, what?”

“Let’s go to dinner,” he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest. You tilt your head in disbelief. You’re just waiting for someone to tell you you’re on that old reality show punk’d.

“Funny, I just poured my heart out to you and now you’re making fun of me,” you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance.

“I’m being serious,” he reassures, “you’re already dressed up. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” His eyes are twinkling with hope, and once again, you find yourself falling victim to their persuasiveness.

Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating.

Giving in, you ask, “So what are you gonna do? Drive all the way home to get dressed?”

The question is genuine, but the bastard just grins. “I’m a little hurt,” he throws a hand over his heart, “don’t you know me by now? I’m a businessman. I keep pressed blazers and slacks on me at all times.”

He swings his keys around his index finger, hoping that the promise of a spare change of clothes being in his car is enough to convince you to say yes.

“I don’t know…” you trail.

“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Somehow he was able to persuade you into going out. After he changed into his spare clothes, you ended up telling your girls that there was gonna be a change of plans, and that they’d go home with their dad tomorrow.

Of course, before leaving, you made sure to leave some money on the table for pizza, and you also made sure to drill into their heads not to open the door for anyone except the delivery guy. You knew they knew the drill already, but it didn’t feel right to leave without saying it anyway.

“Be good, listen to your sister, she’s in charge,” you pinch Haruki’s cheek. Hana smirks, nodding her head in agreement with you.

“I will mom, I know,” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“And you,” your finger wags at Hana, her smirk drops. “Don’t provoke your sister, be nice. Act like you love each other, please.”

“Fine, whatever. I guess,” she grabs the knob to the door, ready to kick the both of you out already. “So does this mean the two of you are back together, or?”

Satoru and you turn to each other before answering in unison, “No.”

“Okay, cool. Well, have fun,” she practically closes the door on the two of you, locking it after. Satoru is just as dumbfounded as you are, but then you break into a fit of laughter.

“Those kids, man.”

“Your kids!” you correct, pushing him playfully as the both of you walk down the pebbled pathway. He finds his equilibrium in time to unlock the car and open your side of the door. You pause before ducking inside.

“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you jest, “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“How could it be when I’m alive?” He says matter-of-factly, closing your side of the door. He taps the top of the car before sliding across the hood to the other side. Nice to see some things never changed.

When he gets inside and turns on the car, he puts his hand on the back of your seat to back out. The proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to physically refrain from letting your eyes linger on his jaw, and his arms, and the face he makes when he’s trying to concentrate.

You try to dispel these less-than-friendly thoughts by looking somewhere, anywhere else but him. But you can’t, and it’s irritating.

This is the second time tonight you’ve been this close, and it’s only this time that you realize something about him is…different. Earlier, he didn’t really smell like anything, but you quickly notice his smell has changed.

There’s a sort of piney scent coming from him. It’s not strong or obnoxious enough to blind your nostrils, but it’s enough for you to just barely pick up on it. You almost think it was premeditated, that he took the liberty of spritzing some on before walking you to the car. Before you separated, he’d made it a habit to wear variations of woody scents for you. If you can recall correctly, a passing comment you made about the cologne he was wearing that day is what sparked the habit.

Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental?

“You smell nice,” you blurt, filling in the silence.

Satoru glances at you, “Thank you.” You hate that from the corner of your eye, you can see his stupid little smirk growing bigger by the minute. He already had a big ego, it didn’t need to be stroked any more.

“Don’t let it go to your head, though. You usually smell pretty rank.”

“Ohhh, is that so? Guess I gotta start wearing this more often then, huh?”

“Sure, do what you want,” you say, trying to remain indifferent even though you’re failing terribly to hide your smile. When the car approaches a red light, you finally decide to ask the big question. “So where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” he glances over, “Just know I’m good friends with the owner, so last minute reservations weren't a problem.”

The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the low hum of the music playing on the radio. When you arrive at the location, Satoru makes sure to walk all the way around to your side of the door again and open it. Immediately after, the two of you are greeted by a young male. He’s wearing a white button down, black slacks, and a black vest with a red tie. Judging by his appearance, you assume he’s a valet driver.

Satoru drops his keys in the driver’s hands, and escorts you towards the entrance. The boy bows and goes to park the car. Looking around, you start to wonder where exactly this place is supposed to be. The area is dark and secluded, and from where you stand outside, it doesn’t sound like there’s supposed to be a restaurant here. You don’t hear any voices, you don’t even see any security or other passerbyers.

Still, you follow behind him like a duckling, only coming to a halt when he leads you to a door taller than the both of you. He gestures for you to back up, then raises his knuckles to blow a strong, single knock. You’re taken by surprise when a set of angry eyes appear behind a slot in the door.

The pair of eyes first scan over you, then Satoru. A gruff voice is second to accompany them, “Where can I get a good drink?”

“I heard the bar down the street is nice,” Satoru answers. The hatch to the door closes, then swings open the door, and the man behind it moves aside to welcome you in.

“Follow me, please.” Once he closes the door, he begins guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. After making what seems like your hundredth turn, you eventually reach a staircase. The man gestures for you to go on ahead, and you think this is him implying where the three of you will depart.

“Thank you,” you say softly, disappearing down the stairs. Satoru isn’t too far behind, keeping a pace between you. As you near the end of the long, narrow hallway, a stream of white light brightens up your whole path. It leads you down to another door like a beacon of light, and when you reach it, you can hear voices, live music, and dishes clanking on the other side. It’s bustling with life. A huge, joyous smile plasters across your face. It’s almost child-like in appearance, like you haven’t seen something this cool in a long time.

Satoru stands beside you and winks. “What d’ya think? Any idea yet where we are?”

“I think this is fucking cool, and hm,” you take a second to mull it over, “are we at a speakeasy?”

“Smart girl. Now come on.” Stepping back, you allow him to pull open the door, and when he does, there isn’t a word to describe the atmosphere of the place you step into. All you can do is stand there in astonishment. Before long, a man walks up to you.

“Welcome, what is the name you reserved under?”

“Gojo.”

Nodding, the host instructs you to follow after him. He leads you to a private seating area, somewhere far in the back that’s secluded from the other patrons. The space is much bigger, and much more extravagant. You know you’re only sitting way back here because Satoru is who he is. And in all the years you’ve known him, his connections were just another party trick in his arsenal.

The hostess seats you, then Satoru, and tells you that a waiter will be with you shortly.

“This is nice, really nice, but is it–”

“Legal?” he finishes your sentence, “don’t worry. It’s a modern speakeasy-style restaurant. There’s nothing illegal going on here, promise.”

While you wait for your designated waiter, your focus shifts from the man in front of you to the man singing on the stage. Up until now, his voice was white noise in the background, but then he started singing a tune scarily reminiscent of your past–and your breath catches in your throat.

If I ever leave you, baby

You can say I told you so

And if I ever hurt you

You know, I hurt myself…

Turning your gaze back to Satoru, you squint your eyes mirthfully in disbelief. You wonder if this is just a funny coincidence, if this is the universe playing her tricks, but you know deep down, that coincidences and Gojo Satoru don’t belong in the same sentence.

You open your mouth to speak, but quickly close it when you see the waiter approaching from the corner of your eye. He greets the both of you with a polite smile, then sets down two glasses of water.

“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for the night,” he says, placing a menu in front of you, “Can I get you fine folks started off with a bottle of wine?”

Satoru nods, tells him to bring the best bottle of red they have and then gestures for him to come closer so that he can whisper something in his ear. All the while, you sit back in your seat observing, clicking your nails on the table until the server pulls back and bows.

When he departs, you immediately lean in over the table, and ask, “Just how much time did you have to plan all of this?”

Satoru feigns aloofness, taking a sip of his water, “What do you mean?”

You roll your eyes, gesturing at the stage with your eyes. Then, as if suddenly coming to a realization, he goes, “Oh, that? Yeah, I had nothing to do with that. But isn’t it funny they’re playing our old song?”

Now he’s smirking, with his elbow leaning back on the chair, and a gaze so piercing, you’re certain you’ll crumble into nothing unless you look away. So you do, avert your gaze back to the stage and sway calmly.

Is that any way for a man to carry on

Do you think I want my loved one gone

Said I love you

More than you’ll ever know

“So funny,” you counter.

Eventually, the server comes back with a bottle. “1982 Chateau Latife Rothschild,” he holds it out to present, “Is this alright?”

Despite the years spent with Satoru, and the many elitist events you often attended with him, your knowledge on wine had never surpassed anything but surface level. You knew the difference between good wine and cheap wine was the taste, but your taste buds had grown accustomed to store-bought, so if anything, store-bought tasted like heaven to you. Anyway, though, you nod your head and urge him to pour a glass.

“Thank you,” you smile, before gently swirling the glass and bringing it up to your nose to smell (something you only know to do after being the odd man out at so many company banquets). Satoru waits for you to sip your glass before he sips his. The way you melt into your seat is a silent assurance that you’re pleased.

“This is great, you’re amazing,” you tell the server, who seems pleased by your compliment.

“Glad to be of service, miss. Are you ready to order?”

Dinner goes by smoothly. In fact, it goes by so smoothly, you and Satoru finish the entire bottle of wine. Now you sit at the table, bellies full, faces flushed and sore from laughing, and now you find yourself telling him about the grocery store incident. If you had half a mind (a sober one), you’d shut up right this second to save yourself from the embarrassment. But you don’t. And Satoru’s very persuasive when you’re tipsy.

“Keep going,” he leans in, hand nestled under his chin. He’s completely invested in the story. Actually, as soon as he heard the words ‘store’ and ‘cute guy’, he just had to know more. And you begging him to change the subject didn’t help, not when the sadist in him loved to see you so embarrassed.

“Fine,” you hiccup, “It was so - so bad, Toru.” He doesn’t miss the way you slip and call him by the nickname you’d always reserved for him. It makes his heart race, and god, does he miss the way it sounds spilling from your lips. But he ignores the feeling, and refocuses on your story instead. Which, by the way, was proving to be a task in itself because his eyes couldn’t stop drifting back down to your lips. So soft, so–

“And then she said ‘we don’t believe in rings,’” you whisper, fist coming down on the table. The sound it makes nearly sobers you up, and you realize just how loud you’re being despite your table being secluded from others. Giggling like a kid, you continue, “I mean, how fucking insane is that?!”

“Something as bizarre as that could only ever happen to you,” he replies, laughing along with you, “those people were crazy.”

“The craziest,” you agree, throwing your head back in another fit of laughter. Gradually, the two of you begin to settle down, and once again, you find your attention being drawn back to the man on the stage. Only this time, he’s making an announcement.

“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Tonight I’ve got a special request,” he says, looking out into the audience. Looking at you. “This one’s for a very special lady who, from what I’ve been told, is a great mother that needs to start doing things for herself.”

The singer steps out of the spotlight and hands the note to a server. Your server. Then he begins to sing, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It was your wedding song.

[...] I don’t even know how to love you

Just the way you want me to

But I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

Yes, I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

“Now this one? This one was me,” Satoru leans forward, and you swiftly turn your head to face him. He smiles as he watches your face go through ten different emotions before ultimately softening. It warms your heart to see how incredibly planned this evening was, despite the amount of time he was given to work with. Even so, it kind of scares you–because then that meant this was a grand gesture–that this was his way of saying something. And you weren’t too sure if you wanted to hear it. Your gaze drops to your lap, and Satoru frowns.

To fall in love

To fall in love with you…

“Look at me,” he says softly, but you don’t. “Hey, look at me.” He reaches over the table to take your chin in between his fingers. The touch alone feels electric. Sends liquid hot lightning down the column of your spine. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and like always, it’s suffocating. They’re so wide with hope, and so, so gentle in the way they hold you. The longer you gaze upon them, the more you convince yourself it’ll be okay if you surrender to them.

“It’s been years since we’ve divorced,” his voice is shaky, almost strained, like he’s actively thinking how to choose his words carefully, “and when we sat down that night, I thought it was what I wanted, too, you know? And for a while, it was,” he reaches a hand across the table to rest atop your own, “but you gotta know…you gotta know–you’re it for me. There’s no one else on this Earth that I want to start over with. You’ve always been the beginning and end of my story, and I’ll be damned if I let another man start one with you.”

Your heart is beating faster than you can even process what he’s saying. The only thing you’re focused on is not passing out in the middle of this damn restaurant. But then he’s squeezing your hand, and your focus is drawn back to those piercing, pale blues that even put crystals to shame.

“So what do you say?” he says, so softly, so tender. “Can we try again?”

Waiting for your reply, he squeezes your hand again. It’s like your soul is wandering the line between death and the living, and his touch is the tether that brings you back. In the background, the tune of the song sung at your wedding gives you a push of courage.

I don’t even know how to kiss your lips (kiss your lips)

At a moment like this

But I’m going to learn how to do

All the things you want me to

Yes, I’m ready

(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready

To fall in love

To fall in love right now

“Yes.”

The walk back to the car is hurried. Aided by both, years and years of built up tension, and the liquid courage currently bubbling in your systems.

The race back to his apartment is even faster. You thank the gods silently that it’s within close proximity to where you just were.

Once you get there, make your way past the doorman and concierge (who both give the two of you a knowing look), go up the elevator, and finally get into his loft–it’s over. Years of restraint, years of pretending, wanting–yearning, come crashing down.

There’s barely any time to close the door before he’s pushing you against it. His lips trail down the column of your neck, then come up to kiss your jaw, until eventually, they find your lips. And when they do, it’s instantaneous–that familiar feeling, the feeling that feels almost like falling.

Once again, for what felt like centuries, you feel again the rush of helplessness. The push and pull of the tide. It brings you down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean floor, and it’s unmerciful.

Kissing Satoru is like being shocked with ten thousand volts of energy. Like all this time you’ve spent not kissing him, has been costing you your life, and he’s the only one who can deliver you salvation. It’s all teeth and tongue for a minute. Messy, and sticky, and nasty. A true testament to the desperation brewing in the pits of both your stomachs.

The sensation of it all has your knees going slack, and that’s when he says–

“Jump.”

Obeying, you do just that. Jump right into his arms, and wrap your legs around his torso like you’ve done so many times before. The way you feel now is the way you used to feel before then, too. Like you were made to fit like this. To be held in his arms like you were molded from the same clay.

Carefully, he adjusts his grip on your body. Keeps his palms planted on the bottoms of your ass, and begins the trek to his room. He struggles a bit getting there because you haven’t stopped kissing since entering the apartment, but he figures it out after a stumble or two (which resulted in a bitten lip and you apologizing profusely through giggles).

“The turbulence up here is crazy, don’t blame me, blame the pilot,” you jest, kissing down his neck to make up for it.

“I’ll make sure to let him know,” he jokes back. As soon as he gets to the bed, he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You try to bring him down to your height but he stops you, wags his finger in your face playfully before using it to push you back into the bed. His fingers start to play with the fabric of your dress, and then his face takes on an indifferent expression. The same one from earlier that night when he first saw you walking down the stairs.

“Can’t believe you were gonna wear this for him…” he trails, lifting the fabric up slowly, eyeing you while doing so, “as if this dress doesn’t mean something.”

Of course, when Shoko chose it, its significance did make you falter–but in your defense, not once did you ever anticipate for him to see you in it. And you especially didn’t expect for him to remember it, the last time you wore it was almost a decade ago.

“I didn’t…” you start, a smile creeping on your lips, “think you remembered?”

“‘Course I did, how could I not?” He says more sharply than intended, taking offense. He takes offense because he spent the better half of the night showing you he remembered. The little things and everything else in between. Couldn’t you see that?

“It was our 4th anniversary. Bought you this dress and fucked you in it that same night. Funny how the second time I’m seeing you in this dress, the circumstances are the same except only this time we’re divorced,” he says, crawling over your body. “Guess I gotta show you just how much I remember.”

With that, he slips a hand under your dress, pulls your panties to the side and runs a finger down your slit. Oh-so-willingly, do you spread your legs for him. It’s almost subconscious, the way your body responds to him. And he revels in it. Lets his fingers work you, feel you, bring you to ecstasy. Then he heightens your pleasure tenfold when he kisses his way down your body, and takes a seat before you on his knees.

Unceremoniously, he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. Takes his time slipping your panties down the length of your legs, then kisses the insides of your thighs, before finally stopping at your mound.

Slowly, he lowers himself to your cunt, kisses your clit softly. Once, twice, three times. The pace in which he’s moving is killing you, to say the least. But you know he’s savoring the moment, making up for all the years he spent not kneeling like this between your legs. So you let him; let him caress you all over before he comes seeking the honey-sweet salvation dripping from your core.

The second his tongue makes contact with your heat, you find yourself clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “Fuck, Toruuuu,” you drawl, back arching off the bed. Pleased with his abilities, he smiles smugly, using this as an opportunity to push himself even deeper. Up and down, he licks at your slit, uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue to prod at that spongy spot he knows you love.

“Tastes,” a harsh suck, “so good,” another, “better than I remember.”

You know he’s talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. You’re so caught up in your own high, you don’t even take notice of the obscene sloshing sounds coming from your pussy, or the moans you’re making. All you can do is lay there and take it as he takes, and takes, and takes from you.

Soon, you find your orgasm cutting through you like a knife, and you come with a strangled cry that has you biting back tears. Satoru talks you through the whole thing. He lays his head down on your thigh and continues working you with his fingers until you start to shake from the overstimulation.

For a few, you lay and stare at the ceiling. You think you can see the Milky Way–and all the constellations that make it up. It feels like your soul is floating beyond your physical body, and you don’t come back down to Earth until a sharp, stinging sensation brings you back. Did he just?

“Did you just bite me?” you lift your head, peering down to see the evidence. In all its glory, there it was; a red ring smack-dab in the inside of your thigh with teeth imprints. Looking at Satoru, he grins.

“Had to get you back from earlier,” he says, sitting back on his knees. You attempt to kick him with your foot, but he grabs hold of it. Pretending to be wounded, he gasps, “Is this how you treat the man who just gave you a soul-shattering orgasm?”

You roll your eyes, but to your dismay, it only encourages him to continue.

“Fuck, Toru,” he mimics, “oh my god, Toru. You fuck me so goo–”

“Alright, enough!” you manage to kick him this time, laughing as you bring up your hands to cover your face. “Keep carrying on like that and I won’t let you fuck me…” You’re serious in your bite, but he’s smirking. Like he knows you’re full of bullshit.

“Yeah right. You and I both know I make you feel too good.”

Feeling bested, you scoff, though, there’s no real weight behind it. While he begins to remove his shirt, you sit up and replace his hands. He relinquishes control and allows you to unbutton it until the item falls haphazardly to the floor.

He’s so beautiful, you think. Still so chiseled, so perfect after all these years since you’ve last seen him like this. At his most vulnerable. The only difference now is that there are more freckles littered across his skin. Back then, he’d say they were signs of aging, and he’d hate them.

But he’s older now. More mature. So much so that he even winks at you when you trace your fingertips over them.

“They suit you,” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “mhm.”

Continuing your ministrations, you begin removing his belt. He holds your gaze the entire time it takes for you to unzip his pants and pull them down–and he doesn’t once shy away when you discover the wet spot on the front of his briefs. Slowly, delicately, you remove the soiled item and let it fall down to the floor with the rest of his clothes.

Still looking at him, you take hold of his length and fist him once, twice, experimentally. A dribble of pre oozes from his slit and you bring it to your mouth. All the air in his lungs expel into the air when you lick it off with your tongue, and god, he thinks he could come from that alone.

God, he’s missed you. Missed your touch, your lips–the way you hold him with your eyes like he’s something worth being gentle with. Nothing could ever compare to you, not even his own hand.

As soon as you’re about to take him in your mouth, he stops you. Pushes you back down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. “No more playing, I’m tired of playing,” he breathes, lowering himself down until half of his weight is on top of you.

Guiding his cock to your entrance, he pushes past your folds with little resistance. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him in has his arms wobbling like jelly, but he musters enough strength somehow to stay up. You, on the other hand, are close to tears.

The more he eases himself in, the more you feel like you’re being stretched open (despite him previously prepping you). If you were being truthful, this wasn’t a complete shock to you. You’ve known that he’s always been big, but something about tonight feels different. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve had something more than just your own fingers.

Even so, you try your best to ignore the burn of the stretch. You throw your arms around his neck and invite him deeper into you, hooking your legs around him so tightly that it renders his limbs useless. For a minute, all you can feel is the weight of him inside of you, and his chest against yours as they rise and fall asynchronously.

“Toru,” your voice is just barely above a whisper, but enough to make the hairs on the nape of his neck stand. “Make love to me.”

Heeding your request, he begins moving. Painfully slow, he unsheathes himself from you until only the head of his cock is inside, then pushes himself all the way back in with force. Again, and again, he repeats this motion. Pulls out, pushes in. Pulls out, pushes in, until he decides to increase his pace and set a steady rhythm.

Every thrust into you is meticulously calculated. Sharp, and forceful, and not once does he disrupt the rhythm. He listens carefully to the sounds you make. Even listens to the way your breath hitches when he hits a spot right. Everything he’s doing is perfect–and it’s to no surprise. Deep down, you know that Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand. He’d know it if you were all old and wrinkly. He’d know it if his soul reincarnated. Hell, he’d know it blind.

“Missed this,” he grunts, burying his head into the interstice of your neck, “missed you,” a kiss to your neck, “missed us.”

The veracity of his words render you speechless. He’s already professed his feelings for you tonight, but it feels even more real now that you’re beneath him. To be loved by Gojo Satoru was a feeling many couldn’t say they had the consolation of knowing. Only a few in his circle could hold that position–but only one person in this world could truly ever know his love to its fullest extent. You.

Satoru continues his mindless rambling, “I love you,” a thrust, “it’s always been you,” another, “was always going to be you.” Leaning back on his heels, he pushes your dress all the way up to reveal your breasts. Now it’s him who sits back and admires this time. As if he were reacquainting himself, he traces the planes and pastures of your chest with an eager hand. He runs it up and over each mound, squeezing and kneading the flesh experimentally.

Then, he dips down and kisses the space between them. Sucks and licks until the skin bruises, and he has evidence to prove tonight actually happened. Eventually, he withdraws from your chest and returns his focus on easing his cock in and out of your cunt.

“So beautiful,” he says, but it’s more to himself than anything. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, he doesn’t even think you can hear him. “Want you to cum on my cock, know you can do it, baby. Know you can,” he grunts, taking your hand and intertwining it with his own. Letting his head fall into your neck, he begins to quicken his pace. Fucks into you with everything he’s got and willing to give.

“Toru,” you finally manage to say, “‘m so close, keep going. Do it - do it inside.”

Do it inside. Do it inside. Do it inside. The thought is tempting, too tempting. It makes his dick twitch inside of you, and he swears if you say it again, he’ll actually do it. But he knows better than to listen to anything you say out of delirium.

“Trust me, sweet girl,” he cradles your face, to which you lean into, “I want to - I want to so fucking badly. But we both know you’d regret it later.”

Whining, your lips form into a pout, and the sight is so cute, he can’t help but to kiss it off of you. Compared to your kiss earlier, this one is much sweeter. Slower. More relaxed. He kisses you with the intent of making you dizzier than you already are, and it’s scary. Even so, you don’t pull away. You allow him to drink you up. Like your lips are the only source of water around, and he’s been quenched for days.

Finally, with a few more thrusts, you reach your climax. The pressure building in the pit of your belly pops like a balloon, and everything goes white. “Toru!” you shriek, arching off the bed and trembling in his grasp.

Using your arch as leverage, he keeps his hands underneath your back and continues to ram into you without abandon. You’re a babbling, wet mess at this point, and your cunt squeezing around him only encourages him more.

“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna - ‘m gonna,” he curses, balls beginning to tighten. Quickly, he unsheathes himself and fists himself the rest of the way. With an impassioned moan, he climaxes–spurting thick, white, ropes of seed all over your abdomen. Then, falls onto your limp body with a grunt, chest heaving rapidly, and slick with perspiration.

By this time, you’ve settled down enough to form a proper sentence. “That was…”

Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.”

Still spent, he continues to lay atop you. And you, having nowhere else to go, let him. The two of you lay comfortably in silence like this for a long time. Just you tracing shapes into his back, and him purring into your neck. Both of you know you should be getting up, but neither of you make an effort to do so. In this moment, time is transcendent. There is no rush to move when time stands still for you.

Soon, that silence is broken.

“I love you,” you say, and there’s no elaboration. Not even a recant. In fact, you say it so nonchalantly, he’s not even sure it was real. You say it like you’ve never been more certain in your life, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do.

“Really?” he queries, almost pathetically like the mere idea of you loving him is something unattainable. You look at him like he’s got two heads.

“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you,” you admit, pausing your ministrations on his back, “I just had to relearn how to love you.” He smiles at this, hums into your neck to keep from crying.

“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he mumbles into your neck, “so where do we go from here?”

“From here we take it slow. We’ll learn together what it means to be individuals, and then from there we’ll see where it goes,” you say matter-of-factly, “no more repeating past mistakes.”

“Agreed,” he nods, “what will we tell the girls?”

That’s when your eyes widen and you sit up, forcefully pushing Satoru off of you.

“What did I say, what’s wrong?” he queries, sitting up on the bed. He watches you rummage around the room maniacally, head on a swivel as you run out of the room and return with a purse. You pull your phone out to see a slew of missed calls and messages.

“We forgot to call the girls!” You yell, showing him your phone screen of missed calls. Gojo jumps up to join you, one leg already sliding into his pants.

“Shit!”

Noticing the state of your appearance, you pinch the skin between your brows. “Satoru, I can’t wear this! You got cum all over it,” you groan, pointing to all the splotches of white. He tells you to wait a second before disappearing into his closet, then he comes back with a fist of clothes and throws it at you.

“I can’t wear this either, they’ll wonder why I’m wearing your clothes!”

Satoru runs to you and pull the dress off of your body, “We’ll wash it!” he screams, disappearing again out of the room, and to where you imagine, the laundry room. When he returns, he’s out of breath and panting. It’s only then do you realize how insane he looks with half his shirt buttoned, and his pants twisted around his hips. A giggle escapes your lips.

“What are you laughing at? Chop chop,” he claps, ushering you into his bathroom.

Yeah, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this idiot.

comments + reblogs very appreciated !!!

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