#but my heart says Donnie | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunsetsandsunshine · 1 year ago

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~ Just say you’re sorry ~

THIS IS FOR THE AMAZING ANON THAT INSPIRED THIS FIC SO KUDOS TO THEM 💞✨💗💕

Also tagging my fellow moots who love this HC as much as I do:

@someone1348 @tickleebug @prettychillbrainfreeze @ghostlyshylee @itzystopkiddingmenowloco

Lee’s: Leo🐢💙 and Mikey🐢🧡

Ler’s: Raph🐢❤️ and Donnie🐢💜

Summary: Raph and Donnie have been getting pranked by they’re younger brothers all day. So like the good big brothers they are, they hatch a totally not devious plan to teach they’re younger sibs a lesson.

(A/N: AS ALWAYS- T*EST DNI YOU NASTY CREEPY WEIRDOS)

———————————————————————

“Stupid dumb-dumbs…stupid stupid dumb-dumbs…”

Raph turned around from where he was sitting on the living room couch to see his immediate younger brother- Donnie- pacing back and forth in the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee that spilled a little bit every now and again as he turned around in a pacing circle.

The young genius was wearing his dark purple sweatshirt with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, wearing his occasional purple mask and goggles. Raph was wearing his own mask as well, clashing with his grey/gray sweatshirt.

The snapper got up from the couch, putting his phone down and walking to his immediate younger brother. “Hey, bud…you okay?” Raph asked, putting a hand on Donnie’s shoulder as a way to show his comfort. The younger looked up at Raph and started chuckling, even though the eldest turtle was 99.9% sure nothing he just said was funny…

“What’s wrong..? What’s WRONG???” Donnie yelled, going close to Raph’s face so they’re snouts touched before stepping away from him. The softshell put his coffee mug on the counter, pacing back and forth again while his hands were behind his back.

“Oho, I’ll tell you what’s wrong. What’s wrong my dear older brother, is that those imbeciles that I apparently have to call my younger brothers have been pulling pranks on me left and right ALL DAY. I can’t get any work done without fearing for my life that another water balloon or paint cannon is going to hit me!” Donnie said, throwing his hands up to the air before putting them back down. The purple cladded sibling sighed, rubbing a hand down his face slowly as he tried to calm himself down.

Donnie was frustrated- very very (that’s two very’s) frustrated if you couldn’t tell. The genius wanted to have a productive day; a day where he got almost all of his work done and he had the rest of the evening to spend with his family and friends. Believe it or not, the softshell actaully enjoyed spending time with his family, even if he acts like he dreads every single second of it.

But sadly, the universe didn’t want the day to go the way Donnie had originally planned. The universe had to give him not 1 but 2 younger siblings that were annoying as FU- fudge. Annoying as fudge.

Anyway, the two gremlins have been placing boobytraps and pranks all over the lair, such as sparkle canons, water balloons, whoopie cushions- you name it! And at the end of every single prank there would be this…card that mysteriously came out of nowhere. It was orange and blue and had Mikey and Leo’s faces on it, saying “You just got pranked by the Portal Pals! (P.S. L + Bozo)”

Which was…cute. It was nice that the two were having fun and spending time with each other…but WHY did they’re fun have to torture Donnie in the process?

“You too, huh?” Raph chuckled, reaching into his sweatshirt pocket and taking out a couple of Leo and Mikey’s “You just got pranked!” cards. Donnie couldn’t help but chuckle along with Raph at the sight of the cards, going over to him and resting his head on his plastron, groaning. The snapper just laughed some more, wrapping his immediate younger brother in a hug as he patted his battleshell.

“They’re. so. annoying.” Donnie whined, rubbing his hands along his face as Raph sighed. “I mean, yeah. They’re our little brothers, little bro. It’s kind of they’re job to annoy the living hell out of us, y’know?” The eldest reasoned, patting Donnie’s shoulder as he huffed, his anger starting to slip away. “Yeah…I guess so…” the softshell mumbled, taking his head up from Raph’s plastron and smiling at him.

“But hey! Look on the bright side: that doesn’t mean we can’t get payback~!” Raph exclaimed, winking at Donnie who raised one of his sharpie drawn eyebrows, curiosity and mischievousness written all over his face. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?” Donnie asked, grinning from ear to ear.

Raph grinned back, nodding his head in confirmation. The second-oldest turtle smiled a bit more (this time being a kind of evil smile) as he took out his phone from his pocket, going into they’re family GC. The younger started typing up something on his phone, beginning to walk to his lab.

“Walk and talk with me, Raphie. I’ve got a plan…”

🕺🏾🐢��Cool Kids GC ��🐢🕺🏾

Today at 2:34 pm

*🕺🏾👾Bootyyyshaker9000👾🕺🏾 is online*

Hello my fellow fam

*UrfaveChamp😘😘😘✨💙 is online*

*Mystic_Mike🎨🤩 is online*

Yoooo

Hey Don!

How are you 😁🥰?

Good good.

How’s the eyebrows working? Feelin pretty, bro?

Donnie groaned from Leo’s text, about to type “kys” in the GC to his younger twin before Raph cleared his throat, shaking his head in disapproval as they continued to walk. The softshell sighed, deleting the text before he was about to send it in the GC.

“There. Happy?” Donnie asked as the oldest nodded, walking into the lab and both sitting on the lab’s desk chairs. “Very.”

“Anyway, what’s he even talking about, Don?” Raph asked, confused. Donnie ran a hand down his face, clicking out of messages and showing Raph a picture he took earlier. It was a pic of Donnie’s eyebrows covered in sparkles, glitter and fake gemstones- and it looked completely awful. Let’s just say the eyebrows looked like a second graders art project.

Uh…no offense to any second grader of course…

“One of they’re sparkle canons got me…” Donnie mumbled. The softshell was so glad he was able to clean that monstrosity off- he would never be able to live that down without anyone making fun of him for it.

Raph cackled at the picture, putting a hand to his face as he did so. “Stop laughing...” Donnie glared, taking the phone back so Raph couldn’t see the photo anymore. And if the alligator snapping turtle knew any better, he could’ve sworn that he saw a pout on his immediate younger brother's face.

“It isn’t funny.” The pout caused Raph to giggle a bit more, booping the softshell’s snout as the younger playfully swatted his hand away. “It is a bit funny…” Raph giggled, smirking at Donnie. The second oldest just chuckled as he rolled his eyes, clicking out of his Photos app and right back to the GC.

They’re fine, actually. The sparkles really complimented my eyes.

See! Told you he would like it, Mikey!

A success in my book

Oh whatever 😒😒😒

✨Anywaysssss✨

What is it that u needed, Don?

R u okay?

Oh, yeah. I’m fine.

I just need you both to come to my lab.

I have to make a huge announcement to say to everyone.

It’s extremely important.

Raph’s already with me so I just need you two to come.

Oh!

Okay!

Oooh! Must be a pretty important if we’re coming to Dee’s lab…

Yes- it is important. I literally just said that.

See you in like- 15 seconds, Dee!

Wait! Raph’s w/ u right now?

Yes. Raph is with me as of right now.

Ask him for me how he likes his new room setup 😁✨

LMFAOAOAOAO

Raph grabbed Donnie’s phone out of his hands, his face red in embarrassment as he typed in the group chat. “What’s he talking about, man?” Donnie chuckled confused, not used to seeing his older brother so flustered.

After the snapper was done with…whatever he was typing, his face relaxed- seeming really calm and content now. Raph cleared his throat, handing the phone back to Donnie. “We don’t talk about it.”

KSYNDND

*KYS

THIS IS RAPH TYLINGNEN

*TYPING

KANSHSJAKSHS!!!

U KNOW ITS FUNNY BRO-BRO

I HATE YOU 2 SM LITERALLY DIE😡😡😖!!!

BAHAHAHAJSHSBDKDK

We love you tooooo Raphieee~!☺️☺️☺️😘😘💕💖💞💖💖✨✨

Donnie clicked out of the messaging app and glared at Raph. “How come I can’t type ‘kys’ in the group chat but you can!?” He asked, putting his phone on his desk and crossing his arms. “Eldest brother privileges, duh.” Raph said calmly, merely shrugging as Donnie rolled his eyes for probably the millionth time today.

“What’s with the random call to Dee’s lab? Are we experimenting on something?” Leo asked excitedly, looking around the lab to see if there was anything brand new or important to test on as him and Mikey walked in. “Yeah! What is it? I wanna know!” Mikey asked as well, grinning from ear to ear waiting for either of his older brothers to answer the question.

Leo was wearing his dark blue sweatshirt, with his blue mask. Mikey was also wearing his favorite orange sweatshirt, also wearing his mask.

Not answering any of the younger two's questions, Donnie tapped a few buttons on his wrist watch, closing the lab door behind them. The two quickly looked behind them at the door and then at each other, nervousness starting to broil up in they’re stomachs. “Don? Raph? You guys okay…?” Leo asked, his head tilting to the side in confusion as his twin and older brother just stood there staring at him and Mikey.

“So…you guys gonna keep staring at us, or are you gonna tell us why we’re here…?” Mikey said as he scratched his head in confusion.

“Glad you two are so curious to find out why I called you here.” Donnie smiled, him and Raph getting up from they’re chairs, looking at they’re younger brothers with a deadpanned face. There was another awkward silence with all of them just staring at each other.

The two youngest weren’t sure if they were called in Donnie’s lab for a legitimate reason or if this was some huge staring contest. Leo and Mikey exchanged worried glances, “Soooo…you gonna tell us or what?” Leo chuckled, crossing his arms trying to hide his nervousness at his twins vague answers.

“Well, you and Mikey have been pranking me and Don a lot.” Raph said stating the obvious, only for Leo and Mikey to chuckle. “Is this what this is about? Are we in trouble or something?” Mikey giggled, nudging Leo in the elbow causing the older to snicker.

“You two aren’t in trouble per say. We just want to join in on the fun too!” Donnie smiled…a bit too sweetly. Leo crossed his arms, squinting suspiciously at his older brothers. “Join in on the fun?” The slider repeated. “Oh, but of course! The fun I’m personally thinking of starts with an r and ends with ‘evenge’. Isn’t that right, Raph?” Donnie grinned as Raph nodded his head.

Mikey gulped, “Wehell…Ihi just remembered I have to goho feed my pehet rock…so, uh…if you’ll excuse me I’ll just be on my way…” Mikey giggly said, nervously walking backwards to the opening door to the lab. Mikey attempted to open the lab door again and again but it just wasn’t budging. He turned around, trying to turn the knob but it wasn’t moving an inch.

“The lab door is locked my dearest Angelo.” Donnie chuckled as he saw the youngest trying to pry the door open- an evil smile plastered on his face as he leaned against Raph’s side, crossing his arms.

Well shit.

“You get Mikey, I’ll get Leo.” Raph instructed, walking towards Leo as Donnie walked towards Mikey, both of the older siblings wiggling they’re fingers slightly with huge evil grins on they’re faces. The two youngest looked at each other completely petrified, stepping away from the door and splitting up, going deeper into Donnie’s lab but making sure to keep they’re eyes on they’re “attackers.”

“Wahait! W-We cahan talk abohout thihis!” Leo giggled, putting his hands up as a way to try and stop Raph from…whatever him and Donnie were planning. Well- he did know what they were planning which is why he’s TRYING his very best not to think about it too much…

Now, don’t get Leo wrong, he can be a menace. He’s been called it many many times by different people, which he takes a LOT of pride in. And he can become even MORE a menace when he’s tickling one of his brothers. To funny remarks to rib-counting to teases. Leo was one scary of a Ler and that was just something you just couldn’t deny.

But sadly, the universe wouldn’t allow Leo to be the only scary Ler in the family. The universe had to give him not 1 but 2 older siblings that were terrifying as FU- fudge when it came to tickling.

When it came to Raph and Donnie, they were just…vile. Finding every single possible way to tickle and fluster they’re Lee until they can’t even think straight.

Since Raph was, like, a TITAN in turtle form, it’s completely impossible to escape him while he’s wrecking you. And since he’s the eldest he will just go on and on and ON about how he was “The best Tickle Monster.” And that stupid thing he would always do was give “Raph-berries.” Basically raspberries but he’s nibbling you as well and it was TORTUROUS.

Now Donnie was an evil force to be reckoned with. For one, he would cheat. The softshell would use his spider arms to ping your arms up so you couldn’t squirm. And worst of all he would pretend as if him wrecking you was a whole big science experiment. Testing out his “hypothesis” or whatever other big words Donnie knew.

So getting that out of the way, Leo knows he’s absolutely dead. Deceased. Expired. 6 feet under…

The red eared slider just knows he’s completely screwed. Based on the facial expressions, body language and overall demeanor of his older brothers, the two were out for revenge. And Leo and Mikey being more sensitive than them, (Leo being a tad bit more ticklish than Mikey), they knew they couldn’t stand a chance. All the two were doing was wiggling their fingers and Leo and Mikey were giggly messes…

“Talk about what, little brother? Talk about how you scared the living heck outta me with all those posters of Mrs. Cuddles that you put all over my room?” Raph taunted, stepping closer and closer to Leo making the younger giggle more frantically.

“I-Ihit wahas funny though!” The younger one stammered, “Actually, now that you mention it…SHE’S RIGHT THERE, LOOK!” Leo screamed, pulling out a completely terrified look out of nowhere pointing somewhere ahead of him, pretending where he was pointing was Mrs. Cuddles.

Hey, he’s not called the Face-man for nothing!

“Wait- WHAT? WHERE?!” Raph screamed, frantically looking around Donnie’s lab to try and spot Mrs. Cuddles. But the only thing he saw was a certain red eared slider running away from him.

Well played…

That little shit.

Before Leo could attempt to try to hide somewhere in the lab, Raph came from behind him, picking the younger up and putting him on his shoulder, carrying him to the middle of the lab where Donnie and Mikey were. Donnie already “captured” Mikey, using his spider arms to hold his arms so he couldn’t try and run away again.

Leo started to hit the back of Raph’s shell, squirming to try and get out of the older’s hold as a bunch of giggly threats flooded out of his mouth. The snapper only rolled his eyes, poking Leo in the side causing the him to let out a surprised shriek followed by frantic laughs. “Don’t forget the position you're in, bud.”

“Yohou guhuys! Plehease dohon’t- noHO Deehee!” Mikey squealed as Donnie released him from his tech arms, sitting down on the carpet floor and pulling him into his lap as Raph did the same thing with Leo, sitting a little bit across from Donnie. Before the young genius could pin Mikey’s hands up- as he originally planned on doing, the youngest retracted into his shell, giggling smugly as Donnie tried to get him out by knocking on his shell repeatedly.

“Hey! You can’t do that!” Donnie said, crossing his arms and glaring at his younger brother. “Toohoo bad. I juhust did.” Mikey taunted, happy he found a way to escape Donnie’s tickly wrath.

Leo, about to go into his shell too was immediately caught by Raph. The older held up his arms, grinning and raising a brow. “Where do you think you’re going, Lee?” Raph asked, chuckling as Leo plastered a nervous smile on his face.

“Nohowhere…” The red eared slider giggled, looking around anywhere but Raph’s face before looking towards his younger brother who was soon about to break by the demon you would call Donatello.

“DeEHEE! NahAt the tUHuhUmmY!” Mikey squealed, squirming in his shell trying to get away from Donnie’s tickly fingers that were now dancing across his stomach. The older shook his head, grinning at the sound of the youngers frantic laughter.

“Then get out of your shell and fight like a real man!” Donnie taunted, which only caused Mikey to whine throughout his giggles but not coming out of his shell. Suddenly, Donnie stopped tickling his tummy, poking at the boxer turtle’s lower rib. “Boop.”

The younger's reaction was almost immediate as he came out of his shell completely to grab at Donnie’s wrists. “There we go~! See! Was that so hard?” Donnie smiled innocently, using his spider arms to pin Mikey’s arms up. Donnie just smiled at Mikey as Raph let go of Leo to begin tickling his sides.

“Pfft- nohohoho!” Leo giggled, hugging his middles and squirming a bit as Raph lightly scratched around his sides. The older one laughed in amusement, raising a brow and grinning at his reaction. “No? No, what? You two brought this upon yourselves!”

“Oho screw ohohoff!” Leo retorted, pushing at Raph’s wrists as Donnie just continued to look at the youngest, not doing anything quite yet.

“Whahat?” Mikey asked, looking at his older brother who’s face looked like he was solving the worlds hardest math problem- but the genius probably did stuff like that for fun anyway.

“Hm? Oh…nothing. Just trying to remember where you’re most ticklish, Angelo…I can’t quite seem to remember…” The softshell muttered, crossing his arms and looking up intensely at his midnight purple ceiling.

“Wha-?! Whahat ahare yohou tahahalking about??? Yohou know my worst spot!” Mikey giggled, rolling his eyes at his brother who only shook his head. “My apologies, Mikey. I sadly do not. But…perhaps you could possibly tell me?” Donnie smiled, a smile which only caused Mikey’s face to go a bright red. “I aham nohot telling! Yohou already know!”

Donnie laughed at the younger one’s answer, starting to trace his fingers along the place where Mikey’s shell met his neck- a known melt spot spot for the youngest. Mikey giggled slightly at the sensation, squirming a bit under Donnie’s hold.

"Are you ticklish anywhere else?" Donnie asks, not stopping his tracing, looking down at his younger brother’s face that indeed looked like a tomato- which is really weird because he hasn’t even tickled him for that long!

“Noho! I’m not! Juhuhust lemme gohoho!” Mikey squealed, kicking his legs trying oh so desperately to get off his older brother’s lap. “No? You're lying to me, aren't you?" Donnie chuckles, still not stopping as he continued to trace Mikey’s melt spot.

“I bet you're super ticklish. I just need to find the right spots! Just tell me where, and I'll be sure to avoid it like the plague." He pauses, giving the younger a chance to tell him where he was ticklish (because Donnie obviously didn’t know!). His voice was low and teasing now, a playful, taunting inflection in his words. "Or should I just start tickling you until I find out myself?"

Mikey just giggled, shaking his head and stomping his feet on the ground- determined to try and escape while he still could. “That's a yes, then?" Donnie chuckles, smiling a little to himself. "Alright, I'm going to take your lack of response as permission to tickle you." The softshell merely said as he now started to tickle the younger’s exposed underarms.

“HeHEY!” The boxer turtle shrieked, trying his best to squirm away from his older brother. “ThaHAT TIHIckles yohoU BiHIHiG jeHerk!” Mikey cried, regretting his words as soon as they came out.

“Does it?" Donnie chuckles in fake surprise, continuing to tickle Mikey’s underarms, his hands being gentle- not getting to his worst spots…not yet at least. “You really shouldn’t have said that, Mike~!” He remarks, smiling as the younger one only laughed more at the tease. The second oldest soon began to pick up the pace of his tickly fingers, laughing as Mikey tried to hide his face in his elbow- not being able to hide them in his hands since his arms were pinned up.

“What are you squirming around for, hm?” I vividly remember you saying you weren’t ticklish anywhere else…” Donnie stated matter-of-factly. “IHI LIhihiED, AhaLRIGHT? Ihi lihihIED- dOHOn PLEHease! QuiHIT IHIT!” The younger admitted, his laugh muffled from hiding his face away in his arms.

“Do you hear that, Raph? This little shit lied to me! Can you believe that?!” Donnie cried dramatically before lightly scratching his fingers at the sides of Mikey’s neck- making the younger let out a high-pitched squeal; not hiding in his arm anymore as he threw his head back in full blown laughter.

“I wouldn’t be lying to Donnie if I were in your position, Mike. Just saying.” Raph said casually as if there wasn’t a red eared slider in his lap, laughing his shell off and squirming like he’s being electrocuted.

“And you. Stop squirming so much! Your making it hard to get your good spots!” Raph playfully scolded down at Leo, tickling at the younger’s ribs, chuckling as Leo grabbed his wrists and uselessly tried to pull them away.

“Ihi’m gOHOnna gEhet yohOU guhuys baHAHAck soho bahahad yoHOu’ll wiHIsh yohOU neHEver knew meehee!” Leo threatened, lightly punching the air in hopes to hit Raph. Which- none of them did. But hey, A for effort, right?

“Oho I bet you are.” Raph laughed sarcastically as he began to tickle Leo’s stomach. “Someone has a ticklish tum-tum, I see~?” Raph teased as Leo’s face began to go almost as red as the oldest’s bandanna. “DOOHOO *snort* naHAT CAHaLL IhiT THAHAT!” Leo squealed, kicking his legs and throwing his head back in hysterics.

“RAHAHPHIEEEE! PLEHEASE! STAHAP IHIT!” Leo cried, still trying to grab at Raph’s hands as they were lightly pushed out of the way each time he tried. Raph smirked as the younger pleaded, only making Raph tickle his stomach more lightly- almost feather-like.

“I will stop as soon as you and Mikey apologize!” Raph smiled. “Agreed. As soon as you two apologize, we’ll stop reminding you two just how ticklish you are.” Donnie exclaimed as he began to knead Mikey’s thighs. The box turtle shrieked, kicking his legs in hopes that the kicking will make it harder for Donnie to tickle him there.

“NAHAHA! DEEHEE! NAHAT *squeak* THEHEHERE!” Mikey squealed, still kicking his legs but Donnie’s hands stayed firm as he began to knead harder. “IHIT TIHIHICKLES! DAHANNIE *squeak* PLEHEASE *squeak* STAHAP!”

“Hm? What? What’s so funny Angelo?” Donnie asked, looking back at his younger brother who- by the way- looked like a full on turtle tomato. “WEEHEE’RE SORRY!” Mikey cackled. Donnie nodded his head, looking at Raph but not stopping tickling Mikey.

“Hey, did Leo apologize yet?” Donnie asked. “Nope! Which I think is a bit rude considering your situation don’t you think, Leo?” Raph asked, stopping tickling Leo to let him breathe as Donnie did the same with Mikey.

“Yohou are thehe woHORST older brohohother eveher…” Leo giggled at Raph, knowing he was absolute dead meat after that comment but couldn’t help himself. Mikey made a teasing ‘ooooh~!’ sound, giggling at Leo’s comment to they’re eldest brother.

“Personally, I wohohould nohot tahake that amount of disrespect…” Mikey giggled as Raph only sighed, shaking his head before smirking. Raph flipped Leo around so that his shell was facing the ceiling- and as he did so Leo felt as if his soul left his entire body.

Leo and his big mouth…

“AHAHA! NOHO! NOHO WAHAIT *snort* A SEHEHECOND!” Leo panicky giggled, kicking his legs and lightly punching on Raph’s thighs. “Waitwaitwaitwait- lehet’s tahalk- RahaHAHAPH! RAHAHAPH WAHAHAIT!” Leo giggly panicked, his laughter increasing as Raph slowly lowered his head to the back Leo’s knees, ALMOST touching it with his face.

“What? Wait for what?” Raph grinned, waiting for Leo to reply but the only response he got from the slider was snorting cackles. Raph took a deep breath before blowing a raspberry on the back of Leo’s knees, causing the younger turtle to go absolutely mad in laughter. Leo covered his face with his hands, muffled cackles bouncing around the walls along with Mikey’s squeaky cackles as Donnie gave raspberries to Mikey’s stomach.

“Jeeheez…you guys are really ticklish, huh~? I wonder how long they could last…what do you think, Don?” Raph asked before going back to blowing raspberries on the slider’s knees, not showing him any mercy now.

“I estimate about 3 more minutes or so…but it doesn’t really matter because I don’t plan on stopping until I hear an apology from Leo~!” Donnie tauntingly sang, laughing as Leo and Mikey’s laughs became more louder after that. “Besides, these two had what was coming to them for a while.”

Mikey absolutely paled at Donnie’s tease. This wasn’t fair! This wasn’t fair one bit! He already apologized! He surrendered!But because of Leo’s stupid comment and the denial that’s he’s the most ticklish out of all 4 of them, they’ll probably be here for an hour!

“LEEHEEO! LEEHEEON *squeak* PLEHEHEASE! JUHUHUST AHAPOHOL- *squeak*” Mikey cackled as Donnie began to blow raspberries on Mikey’s ribs now, scribbling his fingers along his sides too.

“So? What’s it gonna be, Leo? Have you had enough?” The eldest asked as Leo only glared at him through his laughter, throwing his head back again. Leo shook his head, banging his fists on the carpet. The poor slider was trying to act high and mighty but was still squirming like a fish out of water trying to get back into the ocean…

Or, in this case, trying not to get tickled to pieces.

“Stop squirming, Leo. You aren’t going anywhere. I could do this allllll day.” Raph teased as he blew another raspberry on Leo’s stomach. “Well, scientifically speaking, you can.” Donnie said, stopping giving Mikey raspberries but still tickling his stomach with both hands.

“I was doing some research for um…scientific purposes and I figured out that alligator snapping turtles and softshell turtles can hold they’re breaths for an hour. So, as long as we take certain breaths now and again we could blow raspberries on Leo and Mikey’s ticklish tummies for as long as we-“

“WEEHEE GEHET IHIT!!!” The two youngest screamed, not wanting to hear anymore of Donnie’s “scientific discoveries” about how him and Raph were the most devious ticklish monsters on the planet.

Donnie and his dumb-dumb research.

“Huh…you don’t say…” Raph smiled, trying to test Donnie’s theory about the whole “not needing to breath thing for an hour” thing. He blew probably like the millionth raspberry on Leo’s stomach.

And…Donnie was right! Not that he had one single doubt on his immediate younger brother’s genius of course! It just sounded too good to be true! He will definitely be using this tactic on Leo and Mikey in the future…and maybe April too! He’s definitely not scared of the aftermath of when he does that to her…

Raph smiled, not being taking a single breath as he continued to give a raspberry to the back of one of Leo’s knees. Raph was enjoying this new skill he could do very well! Leo on the other hand…was going absolutely ballistic.

“NAHAO, *snort* AHANYWHERE *snort* EHELSE! NAHAT *snort* THEHE KNEEHEEHEES!” Leo screamed, punching Raph’s thighs lightly again. “Awh~? Why not~? Is this a bad spot, Lee?” Raph teased into Leo’s knees, finding this whole situation quite amusing indeed.

“OHOMIGAHAHA-!!! YEHES! IHIT’S *snort* SOHO FREEHEEAKING BAHAHAD!” Leo cackled, not knowing what to do but just laugh and kick his legs. He was absolutely defenseless! There was nothing more he could do but just take it! “So…it tickles? Would you say this tickles too~?” Raph asked as he began to nibble at the back of Leo’s knees along with giving raspberries at the same time. Or, “Raph-berries” if you will.

“RAHAHAPH! NAHAH- *snort* IHI HAHATE YOHOHAHAH!” Leo snorted, his hands starting to flap against the carpet floor, making light thumping noises.

Raph laughed, a smile still plastered on his face- but instead of that eat shit-and-die” expression he had on earlier, this smile was way more fond.

Fun fact: Anytime Leo was tickled by his siblings, he younger would start happy stimming with his hands. His siblings think it’s the most adorable thing ever- much to Leo’s disagreement.

And it was so funny because he couldn’t even deny that he hated being tickled (even though he did anyway)! The evidence was right there!

“You didn’t answer my question, little bro! Does it tickle?” Raph pressed on, eager to get an answer out of his younger brother. “ *YEHES! MY GAHAHAD! OHOBVIOUSLY!” Leo screamed, still trying to kick Raph off of him.

“Just making sure!” The oldest smiled sweetly, still not stopping his new ability on the second youngest’s knees. Leo whined throughout his cackles, covering his face once more. “Don’t be like that, little bud! You know you love it!” Raph teased.

“NAHAO *snort* THE HEHEHELL IHI *snort* DOHOHON’T!” Leo screamed, happy stimming with his hands again.

“Your body language says otherwise, bud.” Raph teased back.

Back with the PB&J Duo, Donnie an idea sparked in the genius’ head. His eyes sparkled as he grinned at Mikey- causing the youngest to gulp in nervousness. He knew what his older brother was planning…

“Dohonatello- Dohon’t yohou dahahare…” Mikey warned, glaring at Donnie as a warning. But that so-called warning only made Donnie laugh. “Oh I dare. Oh I so, so dare, Angelo.” Donnie taunted before blowing raspberries on Mikey’s plastron where his ribs would be.

The younger let out a glass shattering squeal, causing Donnie and everyone in the lab to flinch a bit. But like Leo- Mikey can’t really do anything but just laugh at this point.

“PLEHEHEHEASE! DAHAN- *squeak*! STAHAP!” Mikey cackled, kicking Donnie in the side with his knees which only caused Donnie to chuckle. “I think our little brothers have mutated into a pig and mouse.” Raph laughed, both him and Donnie laughing at the comment- because they couldn’t really deny that fact that.

“OKAHAY! OKAHAY!” Leo screamed, his hands flapping on Raph’s thighs repeatedly. The older chuckled at the gesture, fighting every ounce of him not to take a picture with Donnie’s phone right now at the younger’s adorableness. “Okay, what Lee~?”

“IHIHI’M SAHAHARRY!!” Leo snorted, his hands still flapping happily and Raph couldn’t help but laugh fondly at it. “Should we let them go, Raphie?” Donnie asked, still nibbling at Mikey’s plastron but eyes on Raph, waiting for his answer.

“Yeheah, we should. We don’t want to accidentally kill them...” Raph said to his immediate younger brother, chuckling at his own joke. The two oldest stopped tickling the two youngest, letting the two just relax in they’re laps; trying to catch they’re breaths.

“Oho my gohod….” Leo breathed out, turning to his side so he could see both Donnie and Mikey. Raph laughed as he rubbed the younger one’s head; trying to soothe him. The younger teen squirmed, holding Raph’s wrist as the older laughed some more. “I’m not gonna tickle you, bud.” He said, continuing to rub Leo’s head as the red eared slider stopped holding his wrists, excepting the gesture.

“Thahat was fuhun!” Mikey giggled with Leo, sitting up and leaning on Donnie’s plastron- now being able to use all of his limbs. The softshell then used his spider arms to give the pranking duo two glasses of water- which the two happily accepted.

“Speak fohor yourself…” Leo giggly grumbled, putting the finished glass of water to the side after drinking it and leaning on Raph’s plastron.

“So! I guess now you two know not to mess with your older brothers, right?” Donnie asked, wrapping Mikey in a hug before lightly squeezing his sides, causing the younger to let out a screech. “YeHES! We learned our lesson, okahay?! Jeeheez! Couldn’t you have warned us in text or something?” Mikey whined, pushing at Donnie’s face lightly.

“Nah. This was way more fun.” Raph and Donnie both said, smiling as the two youngest groaned fondly at they’re answer to Mikey’s question.

——————————————————————

This fic has been a WIP for a LONG ASS TIME so I decided to finish as soon as my stupid exams ended and post it lol-

But srsly- I love this HC for Raph and Donnie sm it’s so evil <3 I hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :D

(Also sorry if the phrasing and/or pacing is weird- this is my first time writing with two lees and two lers- I dunno what I’m doing 😭💀😂)

P.S. Since Summer just started for me I will be able to work on more of my WIP’s so keep watch for ��em :p

#If you couldn’t tell I love writing Raph #He’s such a great character and an even better tickle monster #Brains and Brawn #Its been a couple of months but I think I can officially say they’re my favorite duo #The beginning of the fic was just proof of that #Sorry this took like 2 months to make 💔💔💔#As I said- I had no idea how to write 2 characters getting tickled at the same time #I love you all with all my heart but I’m NEVER doing that again #It was so hard-#But thank you K for giving me advice for it ✨💗💞#This fic wouldn’t have been finished without you 💕✨#Also thank you Jo as well for helping me remember what I wrote for one scene because dOCS FREAKING DELETED IT #This fic probably would be half its size if it wasn’t for ya ✨💗💕#Leo and Mikey are such a shits I hope I did them justice #Oh wait who am I kidding- I’m a younger sibling ofc I have em justice #Raph-berries #Plz- I hate him sm /lh #Donnie acting oblivious to where his Lee is ticklish and “figuring out” the spots might be my new favorite thing #Cuz he could wreck you if he wanted to but he’ll just leave you in suspense 😉#Like the mean older brother he is #Rottmnt tickle #Lee!Mikey #Lee!Leo #Ler!Donnie #Ler!Raph #Rottmnt tickle fic #Rottmnt tickle fanfiction

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arachine · 1 year ago

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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 !!!

#art by: @yamada_souko (twt)#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk smut

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