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joemama-2 · 9 hours ago

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velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation wc: 13.8k spotify playlist series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

The sounds of heavy pants fill the room, one more ragged than the other. The bedframe hits against the wall in a repetitive thump, the bedsheets a mess. The sunlight is peeking through the curtains with an occasional moan and urge for him to move faster. Himari’s arms are wrapped around the neck of the man, her legs tight around his waist. Face scrunching up in pleasure as she indulges in the fact that she’s having sex with another man in her boyfriend’s bed. Work is the excuse he gave her after she asked to come over. Of course, she didn’t believe him—she’s finding it harder to do that nowadays.

Either way, she decided to come in, knowing he kept a spare key under his doormat. Walking through the empty penthouse, her fingers running across the white walls as she stalked to Satoru’s room. A bad mistake on her end because as soon as she did, that bitter coil of jealousy sprung free. A stupid fucking picture frame of the people who are actively ruining her life and her relationship. She gripped it with tight hands, almost throwing it to the ground in a fit of fury.

Well, she did do that, actually.

But even after seeing the glass shards spread out across the floor, stomping on the picture of you and that fucking kid—leaving an obvious footprint on it—it didn’t quell her growing emotions. It didn’t make her feel better, if anything—it made her feel even worse. And she was suddenly struck with the idea of making Satoru feel every inch of pain he’d been causing her the past month or so. He’s not even here, but maybe she can leave him a nice cum stain on his sheets. How furious he’ll be when he discovers that she’s being intimate with someone else, that another man’s semen is stained on his bed. The thought alone makes her hornier, nails digging into the back of the man hovering above her as he plunges in and out of her tight hole. A nasty smile forms on her lips.

“You know,” Sukuna’s gruff voice speaks into her ear. “I’ve had better. I’m only doing this to make your boyfriend pissed off.”

Himari’s eyes snap open, his words putting a small halt to her daydreaming. She’s met with an equally vicious smile—one that lacks warmth completely. “Fuck you,” she snaps, jaw clenching.

“Yeah, you are.” He presses his large hand down on her mouth. “Now be quiet, your voice is one of the worst things I’ve ever heard.”

If only she picked a better candidate. If possible, he’s beginning to piss her off more than Satoru himself. Though she should’ve expected that, considering her boyfriend hates him and vice versa. But if Satoru found out she had sex with his business rival behind his back, he’d realize just how much he’d let her slip from his hands. And of course, he’ll fuck her to make up for it. Yes. Yes. Yes.

That’s it.

She moves her gaze away from Sukuna, staring up at the ceiling in utter bliss at the possible future. She feels her climax rising up within her gut, clenching around his thick cock. Smiling against his palm as his thrusts quicken, a shuddering grunt escaping his lips. He must be close too. She can practically taste it on her tongue. Her eyes move down from the ceiling, over to the broken glass and photograph still on the floor, then over to her boyfriend’s hamper of dirty clothes, his cologne on his dresser, his collection of glasses, and then…

The calendar that’s right above his dresser.

The days are crossed off with an ‘x’ in black marker. But one thing catches her attention—and subsequently stops her climax, but not Sukuna’s.

January 5th.

Two days from now.

Dad appreciation day!! ♡ 2pm

Her anger from before swivels back up, raging inside her petite body with an unforeseen strength. She snatches her phone from the bedside table without a second thought, not minding the way Sukuna carelessly pulls out and dumps his warm load on her stomach. Her thumb moves fast, tapping down a few times before lifting it to her ear. It rings just once before the respondent answers.

“Daddy, I need your help.”

“Soooo……”

Shoko sips from her coffee, auburn eyes constantly going from one face to the other—one visibly more clenched than the other. She taps her foot against the floor, the cozy feel of the cafe doing nothing to diminish the awkwardly tense situation between her and her two best friends. Well, just her friends, actually. Satoru—in all his glory—is shameless. Glaring daggers at Suguru, who sits beside Shoko. It’s a wonder that the coffee cup in his hand hasn’t popped. Silently tensing his jaw, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. And Suguru…seems to be taking it well? Focusing on his own cup of tea, sparing a glance back up at the man across from him before looking away.

It’s never quiet between the two. And if it is, that means something happened. From the look on their faces—their demeanor—it must’ve been something serious. After a few more suffocating minutes, she sets her cup down and clears her throat. “Did…something happen?”

“No.” is Suguru’s immediate response.

That earns a loud scoff from the other side of the table. “Yeah, keep lying.” The sarcasm in his voice is loud.

Shoko raises a brow, leaning back in her chair as she folds her arms. “Okay, well, clearly something happened. Want to clue me in, or should I just keep sipping my coffee while you two have a silent pissing contest?”

Suguru sighs, running a hand through his hair, looking as though he’s already regretting being here. “It’s nothing important, Shoko.”

Satoru clicks his tongue, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table, his blue eyes gleaming with irritation. “Nothing important? That’s what we’re calling it now? Really, Suguru?”

Suguru finally meets Satoru’s gaze, his calm demeanor slipping just a fraction. “Yeah. Nothing important. Unless you want to blow this completely out of proportion, as usual.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Satoru snaps, his voice dripping with contempt. “Forgive me for being a little pissed when my best friend crosses a line.”

Shoko’s eyes widen slightly, her gaze darting between them. “Crosses a line? Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. What line are we talking about here?”

Neither man answers immediately, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, Suguru sets his cup down, exhaling slowly. “Shoko, it’s not worth discussing.”

“Not worth discussing?” Satoru’s voice rises slightly, his tone incredulous. “Oh, it’s worth discussing. You want to talk about loyalty, about respect—”

“Enough, Satoru.” Suguru’s voice is firm, but there’s an undercurrent of guilt that Shoko doesn’t miss.

“Shut the hell up.” Satoru snaps, leaning forward, his sunglasses slipping just slightly down his nose. He looks every bit like he’s ready to leap across the table. “Why don’t you tell her, Suguru? Or should I?”

“Tell me what?” Shoko interjects, her voice rising slightly in pitch. She’s starting to look more amused than concerned, though there’s still an edge of apprehension in her tone. “Seriously, you two are acting like kids.”

Suguru exhales sharply, rubbing a hand down his face, his usual composure beginning to crack. “Nothing happened. It’s not a big deal. Satoru’s just—”

“Pissed,” Satoru finishes for him, voice icy. “And you know damn well why.”

Shoko leans forward, resting her chin in her hand, her sharp eyes narrowing in thought. “Alright. Spill. Someone better tell me what the hell is going on before I throw this coffee at both of you.”

Suguru looks at her, then glances at Satoru, who’s still radiating pure anger. He finally lets out a resigned sigh. “It’s nothing, Shoko. Just a…misunderstanding.”

Satoru barks out a humorless laugh. “A misunderstanding? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Shoko blinks, her lips twitching as though she’s fighting off a grin. “Satoru, I’m begging you—use your words. What misunderstanding?”

Satoru turns his gaze back to Suguru, his voice dropping low. “Ask him why he thought it was okay to cross a fucking line.”

Shoko’s eyebrows shoot up, and for the first time, she looks genuinely intrigued. “Okay. What kind of line did you cross, Suguru?”

Suguru doesn’t answer, his gaze firmly fixed on his tea. Satoru, however, doesn’t hesitate. “The kind where you go after someone you know isn’t yours to have.”

“She’s not yours either, Satoru.” Suguru mumbles under his breath with exasperation.

Shoko’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh,” she breathes, the weight of the situation sinking in. “I see.” She looks at Suguru, her expression unreadable. “Care to defend yourself?”

Suguru’s jaw tightens, but he finally speaks, his tone even, though there’s an undercurrent of frustration. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Bullshit!” Satoru snaps, his voice raising enough to earn a few glances from other patrons in the café. “Don’t act like you don’t know what you were doing.”

Suguru doesn’t reply.

“Oh, no way.” Shoko leans forward, pointing a finger between them. “Did you—? And you—? Oh, you guys are so messed up.”

Satoru gestures dramatically toward Suguru. “See? Even Shoko gets it. You don’t mess with someone’s—”

“I didn’t mess with anyone,” Suguru interrupts, his tone sharp but not defensive. “And you’re blowing this out of proportion. Again.”

“I’ll fucking show you—”

“Satoru,” Shoko says sharply, placing a hand on his arm. “Relax. Let him talk.”

Suguru looks at her briefly, gratitude flickering in his eyes before he returns his focus to Satoru. “I wasn’t trying to take anything away from you. I’m not. It just…I know I’m not innocent, Satoru.” He meets his best friend’s eyes, lips thinned with sympathy.

That doesn’t deter Satoru. “Then why are you acting like you are? Lying to my face still, too.”

“Satoru, I’m sorry. I apologized a thousand times already. What more can I do?”

For a moment, Satoru looks like he’s going to lose it, but Shoko’s firm grip on his arm keeps him grounded. She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Okay, clearly this isn’t going to be solved here. So how about you two go outside, punch it out or whatever, and then come back when you’re ready to act like adults?” Neither of them responds immediately, tension crackling in the air between them. Shoko groans and shakes her head, her gaze shifting between them once more. “So, what I’m hearing is that one of you fucked up, and now I’m stuck playing therapist again. Great. Just great.”

Her tone turns serious, arms crossing over her chest. “Just…tell me what happened. No cryptic bullshit. I want the full story, or I’m walking out of here and leaving you two to sulk in your man-pain alone.”

Satoru breaks the silence first, his voice cutting through the tension. “Fine. You want the full story?” He glares at Suguru, who remains stoic, then turns his gaze to Shoko. “He decided it’d be a great idea to get too close to Y/N. Closer than he should’ve.”

Suguru’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond immediately.

Shoko blinks, her hand pausing mid-air as she sets her coffee cup down. “Define ‘too close.’ Because I swear, if this is some petty jealousy thing, I’m not wasting my time refereeing it.”

Satoru leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “How about almost kissing her? Does that sound like jealousy, Shoko?”

Her eyes widen, and she slowly turns to Suguru, whose calm façade is starting to crack. “Seriously?” she asks, her tone a mix of disbelief and disappointment. “Suguru, seriously?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Suguru says quietly but firmly. He rubs his temple, looking uncharacteristically worn down. “Things got complicated. She was upset, I was trying to comfort her—it wasn’t planned. It just happened. I messed up”

“Yeah, I’m sure it just happened,” Satoru retorts, his voice laced with venom. “Because comforting someone obviously involves leaning in like you’re about to—”

“Satoru, enough.” Suguru’s voice rises, his calm exterior shattering for a moment. “It didn’t happen, okay? Nothing happened. And it wasn’t about betraying you. It was about her. About what she’s going through. But of course, you only see it as some kind of attack on you.”

Shoko raises a hand, her eyes narrowing. “Okay, okay, time out. This is spiraling. Suguru, I get that you were trying to help, but you have to see how this would look to Satoru. And Satoru, you need to stop acting like this is just about you and your ego. Y/N’s a person, not a prize to be fought over.”

Suguru closes his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose as though he’s dealing with a headache. “It just wasn’t like that. She was upset, and things got…misinterpreted. It wasn’t intentional.”

“Misinterpreted?” Satoru’s voice is cold, his usually playful tone replaced with something venomous. “You don’t ‘accidentally’ lean in for a kiss, Suguru. Don’t act like you’re blameless.”

Satoru’s fists clench on the table, his knuckles white as he continues. “And she won’t let me be there for her! She shuts me out, Shoko, every single time. And then she turns to him—” He gestures angrily toward Suguru. “Like I’m some kind of goddamn afterthought.”

Suguru’s voice is quiet, but there’s a weight to it that makes both Shoko and Satoru pause. “She turned to me because she needed someone who wasn’t going to make it about themselves. Maybe you should think about that.”

Satoru slams his hand on the table, making the cups rattle. “Don’t you dare turn this around on me! You think I don’t see what you’re doing? You’ve been waiting for a chance like this—”

“Enough!” Shoko’s voice cuts through the argument like a blade, her usual calm demeanor replaced with rare frustration. “Both of you need to shut up for two seconds and think about what you’re doing. Fighting over Y/N like she’s some kind of prize? Do you have any idea how shitty that is? To her, and to yourselves?”

The men fall silent again, though Satoru’s glare doesn’t soften, and Suguru looks away, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. Shoko sighs, rubbing her temples. “You’re both being idiots. Y/N’s going through her own stuff right now, and you’re sitting here making it about your egos. Maybe try putting her first for once instead of playing this stupid tug-of-war.”

Suguru nods slightly, his expression unreadable. Satoru stays silent, his jaw clenched, the storm in his eyes still brewing.

Shoko rubs her eyes and looks at Suguru. “First off, why was she upset?”

He picks at his nail, brows knitting together. “I don’t know. She didn’t tell me. I’m assuming it’s whatever happened when she went out.”

“She went out with a Zenin.”

The revelation shocks both Shoko and Suguru. They look back at their friend, his expression tight, focusing on his own clenched fists. “I saw the car that picked her up.”

“Which Zenin?” Suguru asks, leaning forward.

“Only one prick drives a flashy Maybach like that.” Shoko sighs, and Suguru shakes his head—running his hands through his hair. Satoru continues. “I didn’t even know she knew him. How the hell does she even—” he cuts himself off with a heavy groan, rubbing his face up and down. The weight of everything that’s happening, the fact that you went out with Naoya and supposedly another friend, then you come back about to kiss Suguru, and he makes you cry by yelling in your face and saying shit he probably shouldn’t have. “Jesus…I can’t get a fucking break.”

Shoko exhales sharply, crossing her arms as her gaze flickers between Satoru and Suguru. "Naoya Zenin? That guy? Are you serious?"

Suguru leans back in his chair, his lips pressing into a thin line. "What the hell would she even want with someone like him?"

"That’s what I’d like to know," Satoru snaps, his voice sharper than intended. His hands tug through his hair in frustration, his mind spiraling. "I mean, she’s not…stupid. She wouldn’t just—"

"She wouldn’t," Shoko interrupts, her tone calm but firm. "But you of all people should know she doesn’t make these kinds of decisions lightly. If she was with Naoya, there’s probably a reason. Maybe she needed something, or maybe—"

"Or maybe I pushed her into it," Satoru mutters, his voice dropping. His hands drop to his lap, and for the first time since sitting down, he looks genuinely deflated. "I’ve been so caught up in my own bullshit…I haven’t been there for her. Not the way I should be. And now she’s turning to guys like him."

Suguru narrows his eyes, his jaw tightening. "You don’t know that for sure. Just because she was in his car doesn’t mean she’s 'turning to' him. Don’t assume the worst."

"But what else am I supposed to think?" Satoru bites back, his tone rising again. "She won’t talk to me, Suguru. She shuts me out. And when she finally does open up to someone, it’s you, or—or some Zenin asshole—"

"Stop," Shoko cuts in, her voice hard. "Seriously, stop spiraling. You’re not helping anyone by sitting here making this about your insecurities. If you care about her—and I mean really care—you’re going to have to do better than this."

Satoru opens his mouth to retort but stops short, his gaze falling to the table.

"Look," Shoko continues, her voice softening, "I get that you’re upset. And yeah, the Naoya thing is…weird. But the only way you’re going to fix this is by talking to her. Not Suguru, not me—her. Get your shit together and figure it out."

Satoru finds it hard to speak, a weird lump forming in his throat. Nails digging into his palms and feeling his heart rate begin to pick up. Figure it out? That’s easier said than done. Not to mention the fact that he’s probably the last person you want to see right now. Nothing seems right right now. He’s not sure what he could even begin to say to you to discuss the things you both desperately need to discuss. And when he looks back over at Suguru, the surge of jealousy—anger springs up again. How can he talk to you? Is it worth even trying to? What will change? He doesn’t…have you.

Suguru gives Satoru a face of regret. “Satoru, I…I’m sorry. Really, I am. I was stupid, I know. She was drunk, vulnerable and I—I let her…..” Suguru’s words trail off, his voice cracking with uncharacteristic hesitation. He looks down at his tea, gripping the cup so tightly it seems like it might shatter. “I let her…cross a line. I should’ve stopped her. I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

Satoru’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing as his fists clench harder. “Damn right, you should’ve stopped her,” he snaps, venom lacing his tone. “You’re supposed to have my back, not—” He stops, inhaling sharply as he tries to get a grip on his rising anger. “Forget it. It doesn’t even matter now.”

“It does matter,” Suguru insists, leaning forward slightly. “You think I don’t know how bad I screwed up? I hate that I hurt you, but Satoru, this isn’t just about me or you. It’s about her. She was falling apart the other night, and I should’ve done more to help instead of making things worse.”

Satoru glares at him, his icy blue eyes blazing with barely restrained fury. “You think saying sorry fixes this? That it fixes anything?” His voice drops, quieter but more cutting. “She was falling apart, and instead of helping, you let her…what? Kiss you?”

Suguru’s silence speaks volumes, and the tension between them becomes almost suffocating.

Shoko sighs heavily, dragging a hand down her face. “Alright, enough,” she says firmly, her voice cutting through the thick tension like a knife. “This isn’t helping anyone. Satoru, you’re pissed—fine. You have every right to be. Suguru, you’re guilty—good, you should be. But sitting here throwing blame back and forth isn’t going to solve anything. What matters is what happens next.”

“What happens next?” Satoru echoes bitterly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s next, Shoko? I just walk up to her, pour my heart out, and hope she doesn’t slam the door in my face?”

“Maybe,” Shoko says simply, shrugging as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Or maybe you start with an apology. A real one. Not one of your half-assed, sarcastic ones. And maybe you listen to her for once instead of jumping to conclusions or trying to control the narrative.”

Satoru looks away, his jaw clenching again as he processes her words. Deep down, he knows she’s right. He’s been so caught up in his own emotions, his own insecurities, that he hasn’t stopped to think about how you feel or what you need. But fuck is it going to be hard. Truth is, he doesn’t want you turning to other men for comfort, he just….

Suguru clears his throat, drawing Satoru’s attention back to him. “For what it’s worth,” he says quietly, “I think she still cares about you. She wouldn’t be this upset if she didn’t.”

The words hit Satoru like a gut punch, and for a moment, all he can do is stare at his best friend. The anger, the jealousy, the guilt—it all swirls inside him, threatening to overwhelm him. But somewhere beneath it all, there’s a flicker of hope. “I’ll…talk to her,” he says finally, his voice low but resolute. “I don’t know how, or what I’m even going to say, but I’ll figure it out.”

Shoko smiles faintly, picking up her coffee again. “Good. Because if you don’t, I will. And trust me, you don’t want that.”

For the first time that morning, Satoru lets out a small, humorless chuckle. It’s not much, but it’s a start. Satoru peeks over at Suguru, the two sharing a silent look of understanding. One that says he’s not off the hook yet, but that there’s other fish to fry.

You’re biting your nail nervously. Darting back to check the time before at your excited five-year-old who is jumping around happily in the living room watching his show. You let him pick out his own outfit for today, a red shirt with white letters that spell ‘MOMMA’S BOY’ and simple black jeans with his vans. His hair is styled in a way that he said resembles his Papa. you grinned in melancholy at that, giving your son the hairstyle he wanted. You, yourself, are dressed simply. Dark jeans with a turtleneck—a savior in the coldness it is today. Your coat and shoes are already on, your purse slung over your shoulder, and yet you haven’t left yet. You feel bad to—waiting on a certain someone. Koji has been asking about his father since he woke up, boasting about how he can’t wait to show him off to his friends today and when he is coming.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, your thoughts are drowning you. When you hear your phone ring, you’re on it in an instant. Though you’re met with another man’s name. Letting out a deep breath and pressing accept. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Suguru’s voice replies. “Sorry, you busy right now?”

“Uh—” you glance at the clock. “I can spare a few minutes.”

He sighs and adjusts himself. “Good, this will be quick. I don’t want to hold you up too much.”

“Is something wrong?” you reply, biting your lip.

He takes a moment to respond, heaving and exhaling through the receiver. “Look, Y/N. I…I just want to apologize for the other night. Really, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that and I should’ve…stopped you. I’m sorry.”

Your mouth parts, startled by the fact that he felt the need to apologize. Classic Suguru. You clear your throat. “I–no. It’s okay. It’s…that was on me. I’m sorry.”

“You were drunk and emotional, I should’ve been the person to put a halt to things.”

You can’t help but almost grimace at the way he sounds so….regretful—maybe appalled? Was the thought of kissing you…really that bad for him to stomach? With a hum back to him, you notice the time cutting closer—scratching your head.

“And…and I think it’s best if I—if we—put a little more…distance between each other. It wouldn’t be right for that situation to happen again, or for us to get close like that. It’s disrespectful to Satoru and I don’t want to tarnish my friendship with him like that. I’m sorry.”

You feel your heart drop into your stomach as his words hang heavily in the air. The way Suguru's voice cracks with such sincerity—it makes the reality of the situation feel even worse. He’s being careful, trying to fix something that feels irreparably broken, but you can’t stop the rush of emotions that flood you. A strange lump forms in your throat as you exhale softly, gripping the edge of the counter harder. Your mind races, trying to catch up to his apology, the weight of his words sinking in deeper.

You almost feel like laughing—bitterly, of course—but you hold back. “Suguru, I… I understand,” you finally manage, though the words feel inadequate in this moment. “I never wanted to put you in that position, either. It was a mistake, and I—I don’t know what I was thinking. But you’re right. I shouldn’t have let things go that far.”

The silence that stretches between you two now feels uncomfortable. There’s no easy way to navigate this, no graceful way out of this mess that you’ve all somehow ended up in. It’s like standing in the middle of a battlefield, and the war is only just beginning. You still can’t deny the pang of hurt that strikes through you, feeling a small sense of irritation at the sole fact he’s doing this all for Satoru—for his friend. Sure, they’re best friends and whatnot, but why can’t someone do something for you for once? Why is it that the one person who’s been showing you nothing but patience, hospitality, and understanding is pulling himself back for him? Is it selfish to feel hurt by the fact that you almost feel forced to put up with everything alone?

“I should've been stronger,” you continue quietly, your voice trembling just slightly. “I’m sorry, Suguru. For all of it.”

He sighs again, as if the apology means something to him, but also knowing it doesn't fix anything. “I don’t blame you, Y/N. I really don’t. I just—this situation is complicated, and I’m trying to be the right kind of person here. For Satoru, for you, for all of us.”

You can feel the distance he's trying to place between you both, even if it's an unspoken agreement. A part of you wants to argue, to tell him that things are never as clear-cut as he’s trying to make them, that Satoru doesn’t deserve anything. But your head spins, and you're not sure if you can find the right words anymore. You just feel... drained. There’s a brief, awkward pause as you try to find something else to say, something to make this feel less painful.

"I'll let you go," Suguru says after a beat, sensing that you're running out of words. "I just wanted to clear the air before you see him again. Please don’t take this the wrong way, Y/N, but I think it’s better if we step back from this... from everything, for a while."

You nod slowly, eyes feeling glossy, even though he can’t see it. "Okay."

"Take care of yourself," he says quietly before hanging up.

The phone feels heavier in your hand as you lower it. You glance over to Koji, who's still happily hopping around, completely oblivious to the storm that just hit. Well, there goes that. A scoff sounds out, hovering above the kitchen sink—hands gripping the edge of the counter. You just keep fucking things up, don’t you? Driving others away because you don’t know when to stop. Your breath catches in your throat, and you blink away the sting in your eyes. Koji’s laughter fills the space around you, innocent and unaware of the weight on your shoulders. You glance down at the phone in your hand, feeling a mix of anger, confusion, and an overwhelming sense of loss. Suguru’s words replay in your head like a broken record, his apology, the distance he’s imposing, the way he’s doing all of this for Satoru. For his friendship.

You almost want to scream, to tell him that this isn’t about his damn loyalty to Satoru, but about what you’ve been through and the mess that’s been made of your life. But all you can do is swallow it down as if your voice has been stolen from you. You run a hand through your hair, peering up at Koji again. He’s still bouncing around, full of excitement for the day ahead. He doesn’t deserve this. You promised him a better life, a life free from the kinds of complicated messes you’ve been tangled in for too long. But all of it—Satoru, Suguru, and you—feels like a web you can’t escape. The knots grow tighter the more you try to get out. “Momma?” Koji’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you meet his bright eyes. “Is Papa coming now?”

You freeze, your breath caught in your chest. The question makes everything hit you all at once. That aching emptiness. The truth you’ve been avoiding. Satoru probably isn’t even coming today. He’s too busy, too wrapped up in his own world. You know it. Koji doesn’t. You take a slow, deep breath, and then force a smile onto your lips, trying to ignore the heaviness that settles in your chest. “Not yet, sweetie,” you say softly, walking over to him and kneeling down to his level. “Papa’s just finishing up some work, okay? We’ll get to see him soon, I promise.”

Koji looks at you with wide eyes, tilting his head. “But you said… you said we were going together.”

You swallow, forcing the tightness in your throat to subside. “I know, honey. But sometimes grown-ups get really busy. I’m sure he’ll be ready when we get there. Let’s go grab a snack, yeah?”

He nods, his usual energy coming back, though you can see the hint of confusion still lingering in his eyes. As he grabs your hand and pulls you toward the kitchen, you let the smile on your face fade just enough to let the tears you’ve been holding back fall, your back turned to him so he can’t see. The phone call with Suguru still stings, leaving an empty feeling in your chest that refuses to go away. You wanted more than this. You wanted things to be different. But life never really seems to work out that way. As much as you want to deny it, the reality of it all is starting to sink in: you’re alone in this.

Koji’s classroom is buzzing with energy when you arrive, filled with laughter, excited chatter, and the occasional squeak of sneakers against the polished wooden floors. Decorations hang from the ceiling—paper streamers in bright colors, hand-drawn posters that read Happy Dad Appreciation Day! in crayon-scrawled letters, and a long banner strung up at the front of the room welcoming all the fathers. Koji practically bounces beside you, his tiny hand gripping yours as his eyes sweep over the room in search of one person. The excitement radiates off him in waves, and your stomach knots. You already know what’s coming.

“Where’s Papa?” he asks, his voice filled with anticipation as he looks up at you with those big, innocent eyes.

You force a smile, tightening your hold on his hand. “He’s coming, baby,” you say softly. “Let’s go find your seat, okay?”

Koji nods, trusting you without question, and it makes your chest ache. You lead him toward the small tables arranged in clusters, where children are already showing off handmade cards and crafts to their fathers. The sight is enough to make your throat tighten—dads kneeling beside their kids, laughing, ruffling their hair, lifting them up in tight hugs, mothers off to the side, and mingling with each other. Koji plops down at his designated spot, a small desk with his name written on a blue name tag. In front of him sits a paper he decorated himself, a drawing of you, him, and Satoru, all holding hands beneath a bright sun. The word FAMILY is scribbled across the top in uneven letters. Your eyes linger on the drawing for a moment too long.

“Koji!” One of his classmates, a boy with a missing front tooth, runs up to him. “Is your dad here yet?”

Koji perks up immediately, glancing around again before shaking his head. “Not yet, but he’s coming!” His smile is unwavering, full of pure belief, and it only makes your heart squeeze tighter.

“Oh, really? My Daddy is here already.” The young boy comments, head tilting in curiosity. His eyes graze over to you. “Only your Mommy is here?”

Koji nods. “Mhm! But my Papa is coming soon.”

“Stop lying,” another boy walks up to the mix, arms crossed with a smile.

Koji’s brows furrow, his small hands balling into fists at his sides. “I’m not lying!” he insists, his voice firm but laced with a hint of uncertainty. He glances up at you for reassurance, and you give him a small, encouraging smile.

The boy shrugs, clearly unfazed. “Then where is he?”

Koji puffs out his chest. “He’s coming! He’s just busy.”

Another child, a girl with pigtails, leans in curiously. “Busy with what?”

Koji hesitates, his fingers twitching as he struggles to come up with an answer. Before he can respond, the classroom door swings open, and more fathers step in, greeted by excited squeals and hugs from their kids. Koji watches, his eager eyes flitting toward the door each time it opens, only for his shoulders to drop when it’s never the person he’s hoping for. The children look back at Koji, expecting an answer. You clear your throat and regard them. “Koji’s dad is coming. Where are your parents, hm? You shouldn’t run off without them.”

The kids grumble childishly before scurrying off. You tilt your head down, placing a gentle hand on your son’s back. “Hey,” you murmur. “Papa will be here soon, okay?”

He nods, but the brightness in his expression dims just a little. “Okay,” he whispers, more to himself than to you.

Mr. Ito claps his hands, gathering the children’s attention. “Alright, everyone! Let’s all take a seat with our dads—or moms!” he adds with a kind smile toward you. “We’re going to start our special activities now.”

Koji swallows hard, gripping the hem of his shirt as he walks to his spot on the colorful carpet. He sits beside you, his small hand reaching for yours, holding on tightly. You squeeze it reassuringly, silently hoping—praying—that Satoru keeps his promise. You sit beside him, trying to steady yourself, to keep the nagging worry at bay. You check your phone—no messages. No calls. Nothing.

“Alright, everyone! We’re going to start with our very special ‘Why We Love Our Dads’ presentation we practiced in class!”

A murmur of excitement spreads through the kids as they grab their drawings and cards, eager to share. One by one, they begin taking turns standing in front of the room, reading out loud the reasons they love their fathers. Laughter fills the space, along with the occasional aww from the parents. Koji grips the edge of his paper tightly, his little fingers curling around it. He turns to you, eyes shining. “It’s almost my turn!” he whispers, practically vibrating in his seat. “Papa’s gonna hear everything I wrote about him!”

You don’t know what to say. You can only nod, swallowing past the lump in your throat.

Minute after minute passes. More fathers beam at their children, patting their heads, giving them hugs. The list of kids waiting to present grows smaller. And still—no Satoru.

You check your phone again.

Nothing.

Damn it, Satoru!

Koji’s excitement starts to wane, his fingers fidgeting with the paper in his hands. He keeps sneaking glances toward the entrance, and with each passing second, the light in his eyes dims just a little more. Biting his tiny lip in contemplation, his brows knitting in an uncomfortable way. You can only offer encouraging words and touches, though you know that’s not enough for what should be a special moment like this one. By the time his name is called, he hesitates. His little hands clutch the drawing so tight that the edges begin to wrinkle. “Koji?” his teacher prompts gently.

You place a reassuring hand on his back, leaning in close. “You got this, sweetheart,” you whisper, kissing his cheek.

He nods slowly and stands, walking to the front of the room with his paper in his hands. His voice is quieter than usual when he speaks. You stand up, moving over to the side but close enough so you can record him better—giving him a big smile and thumbs up behind the camera.

Koji looks at you and when he sees your further encouragement, a small smile breaks out onto his face before he’s looking down at his colored paper. “I…I love my papa because he’s…he’s really s-strong and cool,” Koji starts, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “And he makes the best pancakes. And he always makes me laugh. We always go on undercover missions. He buys me toys and builds forts with me. A-And…” His voice falters just slightly, his eyes flickering once more toward the door. His fingers tighten around the paper.

You can see it—the moment realization starts creeping in. The moment the truth settles in his tiny frame. The way his eyes blink too rapidly in a way that lets you know he’s on the verge of shutting down and crying. Your smile wavers, forcing yourself to show nothing but support for your son at a time like this.

“And…” He tries again, but there’s something softer in his tone now, something uncertain. He looks down at his drawing, then at the room full of fathers who showed up.

And then, finally, he turns his gaze toward you.

His smile is smaller now, but still there. He holds up his drawing, his voice clearer this time. “…And my mom is really strong too. She does everything Papa does.”

There’s a warmth in the room, a few murmurs of appreciation, but all you can focus on is Koji’s face, the way he’s looking at you now. And for a brief second, just a second, you think maybe—just maybe—he understands. Your eyes are beginning to water, a shaky exhale leaving your lips in a quiet way because you are not crying right now. Maybe later.

“She helps me with my homework, even when I don’t get it right away. And she makes my lunch just how I like it, even when she’s really busy.” His lips press together for a moment, as if he’s thinking carefully about his next words. “And she tucks me in every night and stays with me until I fall asleep when Papa lets me stay up late.” He giggles to himself at the memory.

There’s a shift in the room now. A few of the fathers exchange glances, some of the mothers in the crowd offering soft smiles. You can feel the warmth of their eyes on you, but you don’t dare look away from Koji. “She tells me stories about superheroes,” he continues, his voice gaining just a little more confidence. “And even though she says she’s not one, I think she is. Papa says she is, he says she’s a better superhero than he is!”

Something in your chest clenches so tight it’s almost hard to breathe. Your vision blurs slightly, and you blink rapidly, taking a slow, shaky inhale. The grip on your phone falters a little.

“But Papa is taller than Mama. He has blue eyes and he does these really funny voices when he reads me stories,” Koji continues, looking at the small crowd of families. “I love my Papa because…because I want to be like him when I grow up, but I also want to be like my Mama. I want to be smart, strong, and tall!” A small chorus of laughter runs out, with you following. “When I’m my Papa’s age, I hope I can love someone like how loves Mama! But they don’t sleep in the same bed…and Papa doesn’t live with us,” he mutters with a downturned pout.

It’s like he pauses for a dramatic effect.

The comment causes the atmosphere to only grow a tad bit awkward, the parents sending you weird, subtle glances. Your lips thin in into a purse, though you can’t find it in yourself to be angry.

Koji shifts his weight again, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a small, almost hesitant smile. “I love my Papa a lot,” he says. “And I know he loves me too.” Another pause. “Even if he’s not here.”

Your heart sinks.

Koji swallows, glancing down at his paper, his fingers curling around it for a long moment. And then, finally, he lifts his head, looking right at you again. “But my mom is here.” The weight of those words settles into your bones, heavy and warm all at once. Koji smiles at you—small, but real.

“And I think that’s enough.”

The silence that follows is almost deafening. Then, the room fills with quiet murmurs, a few soft claps, and a warmth that you can’t quite describe. You laugh out a shaky chuckle, ending the recording. Your son is beaming at you, finished with his presentation. You’re about to clap your hands together and urge him over when suddenly—

“Good job, Koji!”

A shout—one too loud for a classroom—makes everyone break their neck to see where it came from. You jolt, barely having time to look over your shoulder before Koji averts his eyes from you. And if possible, his smile grows wider, eyes twinkling. “Papa!!” he shouts, running over to his father. Gojo is laughing, picking his son up and lifting him into my arms. Koji—ever bright—looks back over at his classmates. “See! I told you! This is my Papa! He’s here! He came!”

Gasps ripple through the room, followed by whispers and excited chatter from the children. Some fathers look over with raised brows, while the teachers exchange glances of both relief and surprise. Gojo, the spectacle he is, stands tall with Koji in his arms, grinning like he just won the lottery. “Of course I came! How could I miss Dad Appreciation Day?” he exclaims, ruffling Koji’s hair before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I had to see my little guy shine.”

Koji giggles, his small hands clutching at the collar of Gojo’s jacket as if he never wants to let go. His excitement is contagious, his joy so pure that, for a brief moment, you forget the emotional wreck you were about to become. “Did you see me, Papa?!”

“I did, baby. I’m sorry I came late, but I didn’t want to make you nervous. I heard everything.”

“I don’t get nervous, Papa,” he mumbles. Satoru simply laughs, adorning his son with small kisses to his face and neck. Koji giggles, squirming around.

You, on the other hand, are frozen in place, gripping your phone so tightly your knuckles ache. The air in your lungs feels too thick, like it’s pressing against your ribs. He actually came. You swallow hard, blinking rapidly as Gojo finally looks at you. His gaze lingers on you for just a moment too long. He’s unreadable, but there’s something there—something deeper, something unspoken. “I’m here, I’m here.” He mutters soothingly to Koji, moving to stand beside you as the next kid presents.

Koji peeks from Satoru’s shoulder, giving you a smile that makes you instantly mirror it. You remind yourself to give his dad a piece of your mind when you have the chance.

Over time, the group has congregated downstairs to the gymnasium where there’s even more crafts set up, decorations, games, and food.

The gymnasium is bustling with energy, filled with the smell of popcorn, hot dogs, and cotton candy. Banners hang from the rafters, all colorful and festive with slogans like “Dad’s Day Fun!” and “We love our Dads!” The sound of laughter and chatter fills the air, mixed with the occasional clink of a game prize being handed out. Koji tugs at your hand and Satoru’s, practically dragging you guys over to the bounce house, his excitement bubbling over. “Mama! Papa! Look! I wanna jump!” His little feet bounce in place, and his eyes sparkle with anticipation.

You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. The light in his eyes as he points to the inflatable structure is enough to make any stress melt away for a moment. As you guide him toward the bounce house, you notice Gojo trailing behind with his usual confidence, though there’s something softer about the way he watches his son.

“Think you can handle it, champ?” Gojo teases, rolling up his sleeves. His voice is playful, but his eyes are warm, focused on Koji as if the world around them doesn’t exist.

Koji, already bouncing inside the inflatable, doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I’m gonna jump higher than you, Papa!” he exclaims, bouncing with all his might. Gojo chuckles, his shoulders relaxing as he watches the joy in his son’s movements.

You linger at the edge of the bounce house, watching them interact. It’s almost surreal seeing Gojo in this light—happy, relaxed, laughing with his son, and the moment feels so... normal. He’s about to go in when you stop him. “I don’t think it’s meant for the adults.”

He looks back at you, a small pout on his face like he was just denied his favorite candy. “What? So? I don’t mind.”

“Well not you, but the other kids might—”

“You better run, Koji. I’m gonna get you!” he shouts, going right inside the bouncy house. You hear Koji’s excited squeals as he plays with his father inside. From the outside, your eyes stay on the pair and you even see a small part of Gojo that only comes out in certain times. Times where he’s allowed to be a kid again. He has a different kind of glow to him and you’re feeling your isnides begin to stir with warmness, biting back a smile when his boisterous laugh outsounds his son’s. Leave it up to him take over. You sigh and with this time to yourself, you decide to give your feet a rest and let Satoru have his fun with koji. It is technically his day, after all.

Inside, Koji and Gojo are jumping around, playing a little game of tag and who can jump the highest. Gojo shows off by even doing a front flip for his son, and when Koji tries to imitate it, he promptly stops him. The minutes pass and their skin is beginning to show visible beads of sweat, fashes flushed with excitement. They sit down at one of the corner of the bounce house, Koji rested on top of his father’s lap. Gojo moves some hair out of his face. It’s nice and serene. Koji looks up at Gojo—his father looking down at him with a smile full of love and appreciation.

Koji bites his lower lip, putting a hand to Gojo’s chest when he turns to face him better. “Papa?”

“Yes, Koji?”

“I have a question.”

“Oh?” Gojo’s eyebrow raises. “Well, please tell me what this question is.”

Koji’s head tilts with a smile. “How did you and Mama meet?”

Gojo’s face softens, and for a moment, his usual teasing grin disappears. He blinks at the question, caught off guard, but his eyes warm almost immediately as he looks at Koji, who is still sitting in his lap, his little hand still pressed against Gojo’s chest. It’s such an innocent question—so full of curiosity, like Koji is trying to piece together the little story of his parents' lives before he came into the picture.

Gojo leans back slightly, shifting so that he’s more comfortable, one hand still resting on Koji’s back, the other absentmindedly playing with his son’s hair. “How did we meet?” he repeats, the question dancing on his lips as though he’s thinking about it. "Well… that's a bit of a long story, buddy."

Koji looks up at him with big, wide eyes, clearly intrigued. “I wanna hear it,” he says, his voice filled with that earnest excitement that only kids can have.

Gojo looks up in thought. “Well, Mama didn’t really like me at first, but, you know, after a while, we started talking more. And you know what? That’s when things got interesting.” He pauses, looking down at Koji with a fondness that makes the words feel like something deeper. “She went from not liking me at all to us becoming a team.”

Koji seems to contemplate this for a moment, his little brows furrowing as he tries to piece it all together. “So... she didn’t like each other but then she did?” he asks, his voice innocent but inquisitive.

“Exactly,” Gojo says with a smile, gently ruffling Koji’s hair. “Sometimes, it takes time for people to figure each other out. And sometimes, even when you don’t like someone at first, they end up becoming the most important person in your life.”

Koji blinks, his eyes big and wide, as if he’s processing this new information. “Is that how you and Mama became friends first?”

Gojo pauses for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. He glances over at you, and though his expression is playful, there’s a depth to it that can’t be ignored. “You could say that,” he replies, his voice softer now. “We became... something more than friends, though. We became family.”

Koji giggles with elation, leaning in close as if he’s whispering something in his ear. “Did you like Mama at first.”

Gojo matches his son’s laugh, also leaning in. “Oh, buddy. You promise not to tell? It’s a secret.”

“I promise!”

Gojo leans closer to his son, looking around before meeting his eyes. “When I first met Mama…..it was love at first sight.”

Gojo’s walking down the street, hands shoved into the pockets of his pants as he’s been forced with flower duty. He grumbled and huffed to his parents about having one of the maids do it, but to no avail. Now he’s stuck trying to find some stupid flower shop that he wouldn’t think twice about coming to if he wasn’t forced. Although he should probably be more sympathetic since he’s literally buying flowers for his grandmother’s gravestone—the grandmother he barely knew.

As Gojo walks down the street, the late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the pavement, and the faint hum of city life surrounds him. He glances up at the sky, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a slight irritation. He hadn’t wanted to do this. He could already feel the weight of his family's expectations pressing down on him, and buying flowers for a woman he barely remembered felt more like a chore than an act of reverence. But, of course, his parents had insisted. His thoughts drift from the task at hand as he walks past cafes and small shops. He knows he's wasting time, dragging his feet, but there's no denying that he feels disconnected from the task. His family had always been about the big picture—the legacy, the power, the status—but moments like these, like honoring someone from his family who passed away when he was too young to remember her, don’t hold much weight for him. Not yet, anyway.

He finally turns the corner and spots the little flower shop at the end of the block. It’s nothing fancy, just a small corner store with an overgrown plant spilling out the door. He adjusts his sunglasses before continuing. The scent of fresh flowers hits him immediately, sharp and sweet, and he exhales slowly, already regretting having to pick out something “appropriate.” He’s not even sure what’s considered appropriate for a grandmother’s gravestone.

As he enters, the soft chime of the doorbell rings above him, and the bell-like sound almost pulls him out of his thoughts.

He’s looking around, senses already overwhelmed. Then, he sees her.

You’re standing behind the counter, a clipboard in your hand, taking inventory of the flowers in front of you. The moment he sees you, everything else fades. You look so absorbed in what you’re doing, the edges of your hair catching the sunlight filtering through the window, and something about the way you stand there, grounded and calm, strikes him deeply. The first thought that crosses his mind is that he’s never seen anyone like you before—someone who seems completely unbothered by the chaos of the world around them. It’s a strange thing—not only because he barely knows you but because he never actually…looks that deeply into people, especially ones he doesn’t know.

It’s funny, because he's no stranger to beauty—he’s been surrounded by it all his life—but something about you... it's not just physical. There's something about your presence, something about the way you seem perfectly at ease even in a small flower shop, that makes him stop dead in his tracks. His heart skips, and he suddenly feels out of place, like maybe he's not worthy of this peaceful little corner of the world.

“Can I help you?” Your voice is soft, a little melodic, and it makes him blink, pulling him back to the moment.

Gojo runs a hand through his hair, trying to shake the dazed feeling away. Pushing up his glasses and puffing his chest out, his voice lowering in a “manly” way. “Uh… yeah,” he clears his throat—his tone cracking that makes him want to punch himself. “I need flowers for a gravestone. My grandmother’s.” He says, his voice a little gruffer than he meant. He’s still trying to make sense of the sudden pull he feels toward you.

You look at him with a small tilt of your head, studying him for a moment, before gesturing to the far side of the store. “We have a few arrangements that are good for that,” you say, walking toward the display.

Gojo follows you, trying to keep his thoughts from wandering. He’s been in a couple of flower shops before, but he feels something different now. He can’t quite pinpoint it, but the longer he’s around you, the more he starts to feel the weight of the moment. It’s almost as if, for once, he’s doing something not for status, not for the family, but just because... well, just because.

“Do you know your grandmother’s favorite flowers?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder.

Gojo blinks, momentarily caught off guard by the question. He hadn’t even considered that. He feels a small pang of guilt. “I don’t know. I didn’t really know her. I was too young when she passed.”

You stop walking and turn to face him, a gentle look in your eyes. “Oh…well…that’s okay. It’s hard to remember people when they leave so early,” you say, your tone warm and understanding.

The kindness in your voice surprises him. Most people don’t look at him like that. He’s used to the mask people put on when they talk to him—the act of politeness, the careful distance. But you? You don’t seem to care that he’s the Gojo heir or that his family’s expectations come with a heavy burden. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, standing in a little flower shop, and it feels... real.

“Maybe something simple, then,” Gojo says, shrugging. “Just something that shows I care or whatever.”

You nod, the softest smile tugging at your lips. “I think we can manage that.”

For the rest of the time, Gojo barely notices the flowers he’s choosing. His eyes keep wandering to you, following the way your hands move as you arrange things, and for the first time in a long time, he finds himself wondering about someone else—not his family, not his future, but you. There’s something intriguing about the way you carry yourself, something that makes him feel like he’s finally met someone who isn’t afraid to see him as more than just the Gojo name.

“You’re really cute,” he randomly blurts out as he’s paying for the lillies. You falter, looking up at him with widened eyes and parted mouth. His eyebrow twitches, internally cursing himself and his fat mouth. “I…I mean….you know. You’re just…your hair and your smile, it’s like…well you’re like…”

You’re still staring at him in silence and the more he’s foolishly stumbling over his words, the more he feels himself grow red. He hurriedly tosses down the change and grabs the bouquet. “Yeah, um…t-thanks.”

You have no time to react before he turns around and practically runs out the door. As he leaves the shop, flowers in hand, he finds himself thinking of you more than he should. It’s a strange feeling, and it makes him question things in a way he never has before. But one thought remains louder than the others: I fumbled!

Koji gasps in awe, completely engrossed in the love story of his parents. “Wow! That sounds like the movies!”

Gojo laughs, ruffling his son’s hair. “Yeah, just like the movies, huh?”

Koji’s smile spreads, satisfied with the answer, and leans back against Gojo’s chest, curling up a little in his father’s lap. “That’s a good story, Papa.”

Gojo chuckles again, pulling Koji closer and resting his chin on top of his son’s head. “Glad you liked it, kiddo.” He pauses for a moment, gazing down at Koji with so much love in his eyes that it’s almost overwhelming. “I’m glad I met your mama, too.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the soft sounds of laughter and the gentle hum of the gymnasium around you. The connection between them is so clear, so perfect in its simplicity. He wonders, for a fleeting second, what it would be like to just let go of everything and let this be enough—this little world where everything feels okay, where the past and its mistakes don’t have to weigh you guys down. He can only dream.

You’ve just stepped out of the bathroom, running a hand through your hair when you bump into Mr. Ito. You let out a small gasp, startled by the unexpected encounter. Mr. Ito stands in front of you, a warm smile on his face as he adjusts his glasses. "Oh! I didn’t mean to startle you."

"No, it's fine," you say quickly, offering a polite smile. "I was just heading back to the event." You’re still catching your breath from the light rush of running into him so unexpectedly, but the tension begins to ease as he nods in understanding.

“I see you’re enjoying the day,” Mr. Ito says, his smile turning a little more knowing as he glances past you toward the gymnasium. “It’s nice to see the students’ families involved. Especially Koji—he’s such a bright little guy.”

You feel a warmth stir in your chest at the mention of Koji. He’s your world, and hearing others say such kind things about him makes your heart swell. “He is,” you reply softly, your smile genuine.

Mr. Ito follows your line of sight before focusing on you again. “And, how are you today, Ms. Y/N?”

You blink up, putting on a casual smile. “Oh, I’m fine, thank you. And you?”

“Fine now that I’m talking to you.” His attempt at a pickup line falls flat, even with the way he laughs and tries to play it off. You awkwardly chortle back, eyes flickering to the side. “I’m sorry. That was weird of me.”

You wave it off with a light smile, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already are. “It’s okay, Mr. Ito. You didn’t mean anything by it.”

He nods, his grin still a little strained. “I didn’t, no. Just... getting too comfortable, I suppose.”

The silence stretches between you both, and you try to think of something to break it. Your eyes glance back to the gymnasium where Gojo and Koji are still playing, laughing in the distance. For some reason, the sight of them makes you feel a sense of calm amidst the strange encounter with Mr. Ito. He plays with his fingers, visibly debating something before just going for it. “I just…I would…like to get to know you better, Y/N. You know, outside of all this.”

You quietly clear your throat, rubbing the back of your neck. “Mr. Ito, I appreciate that but, you…already know that I don’t reciprocate the same feelings and that…I’d like to keep a boundary between us.”

You notice the way his jaw ticks, eyebrows knitting just the slightest before briefly nodding.

“And well…” you decide now’s a good time to bring things up. “Koji and I, we’ll be moving. I’m going to start the process of disenrolling him and entering him into the school near our new place. I’ve already talked to him about it and he’s excited.”

Mr. Ito blinks, his expression faltering slightly at your words. It’s clear that the news has caught him off guard, though he quickly masks it with a tight smile. “I see. Well, I suppose that’s... good for you two. A fresh start, huh?”

You nod, trying to keep the conversation as neutral as possible. “Yeah. It’s been a long time coming. I think it’ll be a better environment for Koji, too. New opportunities, new surroundings.”

The air between you both feels heavier now, the tension thickening with the revelation. You can tell Mr. Ito’s thoughts are churning, and though he’s trying to keep it composed, it’s clear he didn’t expect to hear this today. He takes a breath, and when he speaks again, his tone is much quieter. “I understand, Y/N. I really do.” He pauses, seeming to weigh his next words carefully. “But... if you ever change your mind, or if you need anything—someone to talk to—please don’t hesitate to reach out. I’d like to help if I can. I’ll miss you both.”

You feel a knot form in your stomach, but you force a polite smile, trying to smooth over the uncomfortable edge of the conversation. “Thank you, Mr. Ito. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He turns for a second before facing you again, his smile looking a little more forced. “But if you’d like to join me for some Italian food. I know this place downtown and they—”

“I love Italian food.”

You gasp lightly, jolting when Satoru’s voice seemingly appears out of nowhere, but so does the hand on your hip, almost hovering but still close enough to keep you tethered to his side. “What time?” He smiles, looking at the other man with faux sweetness.

Mr. Ito shifts uneasily, clearly taken aback by Satoru’s sudden appearance and the casual intimacy of his hand on your hip. His gaze flickers between the two of you, his smile faltering as he clears his throat. “Well, I was actually inviting her,” he points out, his tone polite but edged with tension.

“I could tell, but I’m inviting myself.” Satoru smoothly replies, eyebrow tilting up.

Mr. Ito looks at you now, holding back a frown. Your mouth opens and closes, the words caught in your throat as you try to process the whirlwind that is Satoru Gojo. “I—”

“We have plans tonight,” he continues, not giving you a chance to object. “In fact, we always have plans, don’t we? Because I love Italian food too.” He pats your hip lightly, the gesture both possessive and reassuring, chuckling.

Mr. Ito clears his throat, straightening up a bit as if that will make him on par with Gojo. “I’m sorry, but I’m speaking to Ms. Y/N and Ms. Y/N only.”

“And I’m speaking to you, Mr….oh sorry, I forgot your name. What was it again?”

The dynamic between you three feels tense with awkwardness and unsaid feelings. You notice the tick of Satoru’s jaw along with the furrow of Mr. Ito’s eyebrows. Jesus Christ.

Satoru told his head in a condescending way. “But hey, don’t let me stop you from recommending your favorite Italian spot. We’re always open to new places.”

“Well, look at that,” Mr. Ito replies, his smile slowly dropping. “You are stopping me, in fact.”

“Maybe that’s the point.”

“I don’t see why you would.”

“The same goes for you.”

“You’re quite a rude man, you know that?”

“And you’re a pushy one. So what do you plan on doing about it?”

The air is charged, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. You feel like a bystander caught in the middle of a brewing storm, watching as Gojo and Mr. Ito exchange sharp words like blows in an unseen battle for dominance. Mr. Ito lets out a breath, forcing a tight smile again. “I don’t see why this concerns you, Mr. Gojo.”

Satoru chuckles, the sound light but laced with something darker. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. It concerns me a whole lot when it involves my family.” His hand, still resting at your hip, presses slightly—not enough to be uncomfortable, but enough to remind you he’s there, standing firm.

Mr. Ito’s jaw tightens. “I was just extending an invitation. Didn’t realize she needed a chaperone.”

Gojo tilts his head, feigning curiosity. “Chaperone? Nah. I just don’t like guys who don’t know how to take no for an answer.” His smile widens, all teeth, as he leans in just slightly. “Kinda pathetic, don’t you think?”

You barely hold in your sigh.

Mr. Ito straightens, his jaw tensing. “It’s not pathetic to be persistent.”

“It is when it’s unwanted.”

His words are casual, but the weight behind them is anything but. You can feel it—the shift in the air, the growing hostility masked beneath their polite tones. Mr. Ito glances at you, searching for something, but you’re too drained to entertain whatever game he thinks he’s playing. So, you decide to end it. “Mr. Ito,” you interject, your voice firm but measured. “I appreciate the offer, but my answer is the same. I’d really like to keep things professional.”

There’s a beat of silence before Mr. Ito exhales through his nose, forcing a nod. “Understood.” His eyes flicker to Gojo once more before he nods. “Take care, Y/N.”

With that, he turns and walks off, tension still lingering in his wake.

Gojo clicks his tongue, watching him go. “Man, some people really don’t know when to quit.”

You shake your head, exhaling. “Was that necessary?”

“Absolutely,” Gojo grins, turning to you. “Did you see the way his eye twitched? Best part of my day.”

Your voice lowers and sharpens. “You can’t just be rude like that. What even was that?”

“That,” he replies, stepping back just enough to put a safe distance between you but keeping that infuriating grin, “was me saving you from an awkward dinner with Mr. Boring over there.”

“Saving me?” you repeat, incredulous. “I didn’t need saving. I could’ve handled it. And besides,” you walk back over to where Koji is playing with his friends in the bouncy house. “Maybe I would’ve said yes.”

“Don’t even say that,” he quickly follows.

“Why not?”

You look at him, his lips purse like he’s about to say anything. Giving you a quick scan up and down before deciding against it—sighing and running a hand through his hair. You peer away, down at your feet. A small pause stretches between you two before he’s speaking. “Listen,” he starts, voice tentative. “I…I think we should talk…about you know.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Suguru already talked to me.”

“Not just about that, Y/N.”

“Then what else, Satoru?” you turn your head to him. “What else could we possibly have to talk about? We have nothing to talk about unless it involves Koji, and right now—it’s supposed to be a good day. I’d rather not air out everything today—especially right here.”

Gojo exhales through his nose, his jaw tightening as he watches you. His usual playful expression is nowhere to be found, replaced by something quieter—something raw. “You always do this,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

“Do what?” You cross your arms, suddenly feeling defensive.

“Shut me out.” His voice isn’t accusatory, but there’s something heavy in it, something that makes your throat tighten.

You shake your head, willing yourself to keep your emotions in check. “I’m not shutting you out, Satoru. I just—” You pause, exhaling sharply before glancing back at Koji. He’s still playing, oblivious to the weight of the conversation happening just a few feet away. “I just don’t want to ruin today for him.”

Gojo studies you for a moment, then sighs. He steps closer—not enough to be overwhelming, but enough that you can see the sincerity in his expression. “I get it,” he says softly. “I do. But this…this thing between us? It’s not going away just because we pretend it doesn’t exist.”

Your fingers curl into your sleeves, nails pressing against the fabric. “And what do you want me to do about that?”

He lets out a quiet chuckle, but there’s no humor in it. “I don’t know. Maybe just…let me in. For once.”

Your heart clenches at his words, but before you can respond, Koji calls out to you both, waving excitedly from the bouncy house. The moment shatters like glass, and you turn away, forcing a smile as you wave back. “Not today, Satoru,” you whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear. “I’ve already made that mistake, I’m not doing it again.”

He watches you for a beat longer before stepping back, his expression unreadable. “Alright,” he finally says, his voice light but laced with something else—something aching. “I won’t push you.”

You say nothing in response, rubbing your forearms slowly as if to comfort yourself from a dreaded conversation with your ex—one that is most likely long overdue. But you’d like to prolong it even more, if that’s even saying anything. His arm is brushing against yours as you watch your son socialize freely with his peers.

“I…” you inhale deeply. “Koji and I are taking the place. The one you…got us for Christmas. I’ll be switching schools for him.”

Gojo is quiet for a moment, his head tilting slightly as he processes your words. Then, his lips quirk up in a small, almost bittersweet smile. “So you finally decided to accept my gift.”

You nod, exhaling softly. “It’s what’s best for Koji.”

His smile falters just a little, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he glances over at your son, who’s laughing, tumbling around in the bouncy house without a care in the world. “It’s a good place,” he says after a pause. “Safe. Quiet. He’ll like it.”

You hug your arms around yourself. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

Another pause stretches between you both, filled only by the distant chatter of parents and the delighted screams of children. Then Gojo shifts, turning his body slightly toward you. “I meant what I said earlier,” he murmurs. “I won’t push you. But you don’t have to do everything alone, Y/N. I hope you know that.”

You swallow, not trusting yourself to look at him. Because if you do, you might see everything you’ve been trying so hard to ignore—the sincerity, the regret, the quiet longing that lingers beneath his usual nonchalance. Instead, you nod stiffly. “I know.”

Gojo watches you for a beat longer before finally sighing, stepping back and stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Alright,” he says, his tone shifting to something lighter, though you can tell it’s forced. “Then let’s just enjoy today, yeah?”

You nod again, not trusting yourself to say anything else. Because the truth is—you don’t know if you believe him.

“Mama! Papa!” Koji shouts from inside. “Daniel wants to know why you don’t sleep in the same bed!”

Gojo and you simultaneously stiffen. Damn kids and their questions.

The rest of the day is filled with laughter, Gojo trying to show off his muscles—that you would never agree he actually has—for Koji’s friends because his son loves to brag more than his old man. They even did face painting, you opted to get just a small flower on your cheek instead of the extravagant intricacies your husband—ex—adorn. Even for the parts where Koji is meant to discuss how awesome his father is, he always makes sure to mention you too. Even dragging you up to the front with Gojo and him as he had prepared a small song to sing. Gojo is helping his son belt out while you awkwardly clapped along. But just as there’s activities, food shared, and more of Koji bragging about his dad, so is there the…uncomfortable moments.

“Mama and Papa don’t hold hands.”

“Mama and Papa don’t kiss.”

“Papa always stares at Mama’s butt when she’s not looking!”

“My Mama and Papa don’t have pretty rings that match.”

Unfortmnately for you, your son loves to air out your dirty business not just to his friends, but practically everyone in attendance.

Your entire body tenses at Koji’s latest declaration, your face heating instantly. A few parents nearby stifle their laughter behind their hands, while others exchange amused glances. You slowly turn to look at Gojo, who—of course—is completely unfazed, grinning like the little menace he’s always been.

“Koji,” you start, voice strained, “why don’t you, uh…go get another balloon animal?”

“But I already have three,” Koji says, tilting his head in confusion.

“Get a fourth,” you deadpan.

Gojo, ever the opportunist, crouches beside your son and stage-whispers, “It’s okay, buddy. Mama’s just shy.”

You jab an elbow into his side—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to wipe the smug look off his face. He lets out an exaggerated oof, clutching his ribs dramatically.

“See?!” Koji gasps, pointing. “Mama hits Papa, too!”

“Oh my god,” you groan, covering your face with your hands as laughter erupts around you.

Gojo, the shameless man that he is, only laughs in delight, ruffling Koji’s hair as if his son had just won a medal instead of exposing him in front of half the playground. “But what can I say?” he grins, utterly unbothered. “Your mama’s got a nice—”

“Satoru,” you hiss, slapping a hand over his mouth before he can finish that sentence in front of a group of impressionable children. His laughter muffles against your palm, but his eyes are twinkling with mischief, completely unfazed by the judgmental glances of nearby parents.

Koji, however, looks incredibly pleased with himself, puffing out his chest. “See? I told you guys!” he exclaims to his friends, who are giggling amongst themselves. “Papa’s always looking at Mama when she’s not paying attention.”

You groan, feeling your face heat up as some parents whisper behind their hands, clearly entertained. You shoot a glare at Gojo, who simply winks at you. “Maybe because she’s so pretty,” he muses, finally prying your hand off his mouth.

“Maybe because you’re a perv,” you grumble under your breath, folding your arms.

Gojo gasps dramatically, clutching his chest like you just stabbed him. “Such cruel accusations! In front of our child, no less!”

Koji tugs at your sleeve, looking up at you with the pure innocence only a child can possess. “Mama, if you and Papa love each other, why don’t you kiss like Riku’s parents do?”

The question makes your stomach flip, and you freeze. You don’t dare look at Gojo, but you can feel the way his playful demeanor stills beside you. It’s the question neither of you have the heart to answer. And suddenly, despite the afternoon sun and the laughter all around, a chill settles over your spine.

Yeah, maybe you should’ve better prepared yourself for today.

It’s around three in the afternoon now, Koji absolutely spent but still happily holds onto his parents’ hands, skipping between them. You walk with Gojo, the weight of the day’s events starting to settle in your bones, but the soft thump of Koji’s little feet on the ground as he hops along distracts you from your thoughts. You glance at Gojo, who’s keeping his stride slow enough to match Koji’s, his usual playful grin replaced with a quieter, more pensive expression. There’s something about this moment—the three of you together—that feels different, almost like a perfect, fleeting snapshot of a family that could have been.

Koji pulls ahead slightly, his excitement bubbling over. He twirls in a circle, hands stretched out as if trying to catch the wind, before looking back at you both with a grin that could light up the whole park. “Come on, slowpokes!” he teases, clearly proud of his energy and his ability to keep going while his parents trail behind.

You exchange a brief glance with Gojo, the weight of unsaid words passing between you in the shared quiet of that look. There’s a softness in his gaze as he watches Koji, everything feels... almost okay. Almost like it’s parallel universe. But then the tug of reality creeps in again, the reminder of everything you’ve been through together—everything that’s still left unsaid.

“Koji, slow down!” you call, but there’s no real urgency in your voice. It’s more out of habit than concern. You’re just trying to hold onto this small moment a little longer, even if you know it can’t last forever.

The smile that spreads across Gojo’s face as he watches his son is genuine, warm—almost too warm, as if he’s trying to convince himself that this is enough, that the weight of what’s been lost won’t ever overshadow what’s still here. “I can’t believe how much energy you have left in you, buddy,” Gojo says, catching up with Koji as he spins around again, arms flailing with childish abandon.

“I’m just getting started!” Koji says, laughing as if he’s truly invincible in this moment, in this place. You can’t help but smile at the sight of him—happy, carefree, completely unaware of the tension that’s simmering just beneath the surface of this picture-perfect scene.

Gojo looks at you again, a small, wistful smile tugging at his lips. “You know, I didn’t think I’d ever get to do this. Be here with you. With him.” His voice is quiet, almost too quiet for you to hear over the distant chatter of other families still enjoying the day. But you hear it. You feel it.

You offer him a half-smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, well, we’ve got him now.”

And for a fleeting moment, it feels like that’s all that matters.

You’re all walking back to Gojo’s car, the other parents and children doing the same. Engrossed in Koji’s raving about how fun today was—Gojo and you nodding along and smiling at his pure happiness with a parental love.

“Where is she?!”

A sudden shout pulls all of your attention, your grip tightening around Koji’s hand as Satoru pulls him closer to you both. The sudden shout cuts through the air like a knife, sharp and frantic, snapping you out of the bubble you’d been enveloped in. Your footsteps slow down as in the distance, there’s a small huddle of people formed—it looks like there’s something or someone in the middle of it.

Your feet stop, the world around you slowing. The shout wasn’t one of joy or excitement—it was filled with desperation, and that alone sends a shiver down your spine. Your eyes shift to the distance where the sound originated. There’s a huddle of people formed, clustered around in a small circle formation, it almost seems like... a commotion. You can’t make out the details yet, but something feels off, something heavy about the way the crowd is gathered, their heads bobbing in quick movements as if trying to see over something or someone.

Koji tilts his head. “What’s happening?”

But neither Gojo or you have a response for that. How could you when the crowd parts ever so slightly and you see a head of jet black hair. Your eyes widen, body freezing as every single hair on your body jolts up. You feel stuck, hand trembling around your son’s hand—a breath feeling like it’s too much work. The world around you shifts into a blur as the air seems to thicken, each step feeling like it’s dragging you deeper into the unknown.

You don’t know how long you stand there, unable to move, unable to process. The sound of Koji’s voice, his soft tug on your hand, feels distant now, muffled by the pounding of your heart in your ears. Your eyes remain locked on the figure in the crowd, the jet-black hair unmistakable. Your breath hitches in your throat, a tightness constricting your chest. It’s impossible. You blink, trying to make sense of the situation, but every time you do, she’s still there.

It’s like you’ve somehow reverted back to your child self, staring in complete shock and utter fear at what your mother’s reaction would be to a vase you accidentally broke. You see it happening—it’s all moving too slowly for you and you’re suddenly praying for a hole to swallow. Except when her head turns and you’re greeted with a face you haven’t seen in years—aged but undeniably recognizable—she doesn’t greet you with a deadly sneer. No.

Her eyes light up, face controting into a wide smile that you don’t think—no, you know—she has never given you. And as soon as she sees you, she’s pushing her way through people without a second thought—even the children.

You have no time to react.

“My daughter! My sweet, sweet daughter!” she exclaims with a happiness that doesn’t feel real, it never does. The minutes her arms wrap around you in a tight hug, you think you’re suffocating.

“I’ve missed you! Did you miss your mother too, Y/N?”

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seancekitsch · 2 days ago

Note

BONNIE YOUR THREESOMES ARE PEAK PLEASE WRITE JAYVIK X READER PLEASE

hehehehe this was more involved than i thought it would be

summary: you and viktor get bored and jealous at a gala, threesome ensues after

m/m/f, dom!vik, switch! mostly sub reader, sub! jayce, smut, hehehehe

“I hate these things,” you say, but you always get dressed to the nines whenever there’s a gala, not a hair out of place and the fanciest gowns that otherwise rot in the background of your closet. You always make sure you look your best for your men at these things.

“I hate these things,” Viktor says, but he never fails to pull you onto his lap when he’s sure no one is looking. He always presses long kisses into your exposed skin that leave you flustered and giggly. He always makes sure you’re taken care of and more than flirted with when you go to a gala.

“I hate this,” you’ll say halfway through the night, angrily picking at your nails between glasses of champagne as you watch Jayce be hit on by yet another investor, “Must we pimp him out?”

“I hate it too,” Viktor agrees, but he doesn’t answer your question. You both know what this is, a necessity that brews a vicious anger in your gut. Jealousy and possessiveness brew like a venom as the two of you eat caviar and french fries on the outskirts of a ballroom. Viktor keeps an eye on your scowl as he leans on the table.

“I’m mad,” you’ll pout, when you can finally tug on Jayce’s jacket and pull him near, “You’re ours.”

He’ll just laugh and urge you to finish your last champagne glass before the carriage arrives.

He throws his jacket over you as Viktor’s free arm comes around your waist. To any bystander, it looks as if the two inventors are holding up a drunk girl. In reality, they can’t keep their hands off of you.

You’re thankful the carriage driver is discreet, with noise you’re making. Viktor actively holds your top half, your chest haphazardly thrown over his as he keeps you in place. Viktor messes up your hair, pushing it all away from your face. Jayce is relentless, bordering on mean with his teasing. His too warm hands dance around your inner thighs and drag along your skin. He’s long since discarded your panties and shoved them into his pocket as he kneels on the floor of the carriage and grins up at you in the moonlight.

“Jayce, please,” You beg.

“Are you kidding?” is how he responds, his voice low and harsh, “don’t think I didn’t see the show you were putting on with Vik.”

You smile sheepishly, and look up to where a dark purple spot blooms on the man’s throat.

“You were pretty mean to tease him like that,” Viktor says, and you realize there will be no orders for mercy in this carriage for you.

The walk from the carriage to the elevator is a struggle, your legs feeling like jelly from all of Jayce’s teasing and touching as the men crowd on either side of you. Jayce lifts you as the elevator doors open, one of his hands grabbing not so subtly at your ass. This is where it gets risky, as anyone after hours could blow the little cover your trio has.

The mood shifts as the elevator doors close, and your feet touch the ground as you both look to Viktor. Always, you and Jayce look to Viktor. Jayce holds you close, his arms caging you in. Viktor leans against the wall of the lift, his hand unbuttoning his waistcoat as he smiles at the two of you.

“You made her upset at the gala,” he states simply, looking up at the taller man, “Let’s make sure she feels loved enough to not complain so much next time.”

Anticipation swells in your chest, excitement having you ready to tear at their clothes right here and now, though you don’t move an inch.

Ironic though, that Viktor brings up your jealousy. As if he himself does not have an essay worth of complaints when he himself feels that way. As if he is not the biggest complainer in Zaun and Piltover combined. You voice none of that though.

Only a small whispered “Thank you, V,” leaves your lips.

“Touch her,” comes Victor’s voice from the couch, and instantly warm hands are upon you. Jayce gropes from your hips to your chest and back again, his warm fingers leaving a blazing train in their wake, wildfires breaking out upon your skin under his touch.

“So pretty,” Jayce breathes, his voice strained and breathy as he kisses along your shoulder. Jayce pushes the top of your dress from your shoulders, and then upon seemingly discovering the buttons along your back, his hands become laser focused on those.

“You both are,” Viktor sighs, his hand palming over his crotch as he watches you with a predatory stare, “Get her naked, please.”

Jayce obeys, sweet obedient Jayce. His fingers find themselves spinning you around, immediately working the line down your spine. His big fingers are nimble, rapidly pulling the extremely delicate buttons apart with ease without ripping a singe one of them. His hands travel down your spine, your body reacting in turn with shuddering gasps, until he reaches the cleft of your ass where the buttons finally stop. This is when Jayce urges you to stand straight, pushing your dress down to the point where it falls down your ass and legs, leaving you bare for them spare your heels.

Jayce’s warm hands are on you, caressing your chest and squeezing your hips.

“Is it.. good? The heels aren’t too much?” You ask, their lack of immediate verbal praise making your skin prickle in a way you don’t like.

“More than good,” Viktor scoffs, then orders “Come here.”

Without another thought, you sink to your knees immediately. Viktor’s wish is your command.

You shuffle forward until you’re between Viktor’s knees, his brace undone and his pants already unbuttoned and waiting for you. You push both down with care, actively pulling his brace down his leg gently to make sure that it’s not bumped in any way on the way down. It’s not unsexy, the way you remove the brace is the same way you’d remove any piece of clothing, just another thing on the journey to unwrapping him like a present. And he is a present to you tonight, most of your time with Viktor hurried in the lab and mostly clothed. The time and space to actually see him bare is a rare thing for you. You take the time to take his pants with it, each inch of revealed skin met with kisses. Lipstick meets the insides of pale knees, up pale thighs, exaggerating the punctuation of the moles on his legs.

You look up at him expectantly, as if for instruction.

“My love, what?” he ask, a chuckle in his tone as he grasps the back of your head, “you know what to do.”

With that he gently leads your head down, your lips parting to catch the head of his cock between them. You waste no time sinking your mouth down onto him, only stopping when he hits the back of your throat. Despite the fact that he does not fully fit in your mouth, you do not wrap your fingers around the base of his dick. That’s always been a quirk of Viktor’s, that he likes it with no hands. So one of your free hands sinks into the couch, the old worn cushion soft under your touch. Your other hand moves between your thighs, moving lazy circles with your middle two fingers over your clit. You moan at the contact, and Viktor shudders as your moan reverberates around him. He crooks a finger towards the other man, and Jayce comes forward to quickly capture Victor’s lips into a kiss. You stare up from your spot below, licking the underside of Viktor’s cockhead as you watch the two lock lips. Viktor is the first to deepen the kiss, his tongue diving past Jayce’s lips. They’re so beautiful, your men. You watch them hungrily as you bob your head up and down on Viktor’s length, your cheeks hollowing out around him. Your fingers speed up, and every few moments you allow your fingers to dip into yourself, not nearly enough and not what you want but it fuels the fire in your gut. You don’t hold back with your own moaning, letting them know how good you’re feeling right now.

Viktor seems to notice the way your shoulder is moving, and pulls away from Jayce. Not too far, as his breath still tickles Jayce’s mustache.

“You made our little Princezno very upset, Jayce,” Viktor tsks, “Look at how good she is being for us, and you make her so jealous?”

Jayce looks down, his eyes meeting yours.

“I’m sorry, babe,” he tells you, and you hope he can see that you’re smiling even with Viktor’s dick down your throat.

“Did you think that was enough?” Viktor asks, and one of his hands comes to your chin, gently pulling you off of him. You stretch and move your jaw, slightly sore from use. Viktor pulls you up, gesturing for you to lay in his lap. He does this when he needs a breather, when he gets himself a little too worked up too quickly. It’s almost an ego boost knowing you have that power over him, but not when it leaves him attempting to stifle a cough. You comply happily though, stretching out on your back so that your head rests mostly on his good leg, your hand lazily coming up to rub along the edge of his back brace. His still hard cock rests against his abdomen, close enough that you can kiss it when you turn your head, and you do. Your lips press a warm kiss where the base of his shaft meets his balls.

“Look at her, she’s worked herself up so much,” There’s fake pity in his tone as Jayce moves to the other side of the ratty couch, “I think you should make it up to her.”

“I agree,” Jayce sighs as he kneels at the edge of the couch, his big hands propping up your hips for him and holding you still. Jayce’s breath fans out across your core, already dripping and ready for him. He smiles at you, and you want to run your tongue along the gap in his teeth. Jayce is so fucking handsome. You don’t know when he removed his jacket and shirt, but he hooks one of your legs over his bare shoulder before diving in. His tongue feels molten hot as he licks your cunt open, and he groans as he tastes you. A greedy slurp cuts through the air of the otherwise quiet lab, obscene and embarrassing as you throw your hands up to cover your face.

“None of that,” Viktor chides you, gently prying your hands away, “If you must grab anything, grab Jayce. I want to see you.”

You comply, just as obedient as Jayce when it comes to Viktor. You nod and him as your hands tremble, fingers burying themselves in the hair that Jayce is trying to grow out. Jayce hums appreciatively against you at the contact. He returns to opening you with fervor, his tongue now focused solely on your clit. Jayce’s fingers tease your entrance, dipping into where you’ve already soaked and just barely breaching you, earning him breathy whines and whispered begging.

“Jayce… need you,” you moan, frustrated tears already prickling at your eyes. He’s in a teasing mood tonight, his worst and most dangerous mood. If Viktor doesn’t call him off, you could be at this until dawn.

“Do you need us both?” Viktor asks, which you meet with nodding that jostle’s Viktor’s good leg. You look up at him, silently begging. He pouts mockingly at you, using one hand to wipe away a stray tear near your lashes.

“Prep her,” he orders Jayce, not taking his eyes off of yours, “She needs us both, who are we to deny her?”

Jayce hums against your clit again, making you yelp. His fingers delve into you, scissoring you open and pressing deep. Finally, you think, finally. His fingers don’t stay long, just enough to soak them. Jayce pulls his fingers out and moves them lower. He circles the other hole, then slowly, ever so carefully, pushes one in. The adjustment is always a little painful, despite that you’re used to this by now. He’s slow to move, and works you open to take the second finger.

“She tastes so good,” Jayce moans when he removes is mouth from you, only for a moment to catch his breath, “So so sweet.”

His fingers in your ass start to move a little faster as his lips reattach themselves to your clit, sucking hard on the little bud to make you yank on his hair. If there’s something Jayce likes, it’s a little pain. He fucks you on his hand until you see stars, each time you come close to ecstasy, he pulls back; maddening and near painful. He does this three times, each time has you whining and cursing and panting while Viktor holds your face still and whispers sweet praise to you.

“You’re doing so well, look at how happy you’re making us, just once more.”

But his words mean little when you’re blinded with the need to cum, the need to make a mess for Jayce to lick up, to be sandwiched between the two of them and filled.

“Can’t … fuck, ah… can’t do it anymore,” you plead, the tears starting to come more rapidly, a babbling brook becoming a stream. You twist nearly out of Viktor’s hold, your fingers going slack against Jayce’s scalp, and Viktor’s face goes stoic.

“Jayce, stop!” he tells him, clear that you’ve been pushed a little too far. Jayce pulls back immediately, but doesn’t leave. Instead he wraps his arms around you, his head on your chest like a weighted blanket as he holds you.

“I’m sorry, baby. Was I mean to you?” Jayce croons, but the way his hand envelops yours and squeezes tells you it’s a check-in.

“A little,” you whimper, “I just wanted to fuck you… and cum.”

You add the last part with a little indignant joke in your tone. Truly, you could handle what he was doing on a normal night, but tonight, you just wanted your men and their attention.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats again, and then lifts his head up to Viktor, “You ready to go again?”

“I always was,” Viktor scoffs.

You sigh as you sink down onto Viktor’s length, the familiar stretch to accommodate him always pleasant. He smiles up at you from where he now lays on the couch, his good leg digging into the cushion to give him some leverage of his own, his own lips parted in his own clumsy sigh. You lean down to capture those lips in a kiss, a brief peck before you turn your head back to Jayce.

“You ready?” You ask him, beckoning him closer.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for something,” Jayce jokes, his knee pressing into the couch cushion between Viktor’s legs and yours. He drips some lube onto his shaft, until now neglected as some light unspoken attempt of a punishment. He remembers how you had rolled your eyes and made fun of him when he pointed out to you that he had even bought some lube to hide in one of his personal drawers in the space. Now, however, its half empty and every combination of the three of you have been more than happy to use it on more than one occasion. He gives his cock two pumps to smear the lube, then settles in behind you. Jayce runs hot, and his heat radiates across your back.

He lines himself up gently, and just as gently pushes into your other hole.

It takes everything in you not to scream and come at that very moment. You breath through your teeth, seething at the way you hold back as you adjust to the feeling, while familiar always an adjustment. Your panting breaks into a light airy chuckle as you move your hips, a small swivel and roll. Both of your men groan at the feeling. That’s their cue to begin.

Viktor and Jayce are geniuses to begin with, but when it comes to your body they’re even more than that. They fall into opposite patterns, when Viktor is fully flush in you, Jayce is pulling back; When Viktor pulls you up from his lap, Jayce’s hips are flat against your ass. Viktor goes in, Jayce goes out, Jayce goes in, Viktor goes out. It’s maddening, and so damn quick to work you back up into a frenzy.

“Fuck, Amazing,” Viktor pants, his head thrown back against the cushion as he tilts his hips up again into you, “You two spoil me.”

A breathy laugh leaves his lips as he continues his movement, his hands lazily tracing up Jayce’s biceps and down your waist. He smiles though youre sure he’s sore by now, something he’ll use as an excuse to have you and Jayce massage out and to cater to him and bring him a glass of sweetmilk and the little lemon loaf cake you had baked yesterday. Jayce doesn’t respond verbally, but speeds up the movement of his hips, double time to ease Viktor’s movements. He easily pushes you up and down on both of their cocks, the change in pace somehow even more divine than before.

“Spoil you?” you gasp, your mouth hangs open as you struggle to moan between the two of them, your hands frantic and clumsy grasping at them both, yet not finding purchase or rooting anywhere. You find yourself, between the gasps and the moans, laughing too.

“I’m the fuckin’ spoiled one,” you tell them. Viktor’s hand leaves your waist, dropping down to rub circles on your clit.

Almost instantly, you go rigid, the many orgasms Jayce had denied you crashing down upon you. The feeling makes it feel like you shatter, like your muscles are made of glass and you break in their embrace.

“Ah, fuck fuck, shit,” Jayce curses as you tense up and shake between the two of them, “So tight.”

You moan, low and hoarse and drawn out as the two men cage you in, holding you tight between them. Viktor’s hands find your face, cupping your cheeks as he whispers praise to you.

Heat floods you, Jayce finishing along with you, spilling into your ass with a harsh groan. He stills behind you, one of his big arms coming up from the couch to wrap around you and hug you tight, your sweaty spine colliding with his equally sweaty chest.

“Fuck you guys are fantastic,” he whispers, his stubble and lips brushing clumsily against your shoulder as he speaks. Viktor still thrusts up into you, his movements slower now as the two of you still above him. He looks down to where his fingertips have left the faintest of bruises on your hips. Beautiful, and he knows you’ll wear them with pride.

You start to shift on top of him, not quite meeting his lazier thrusting, but the friction is enough. Your mouth falls open, your eyes screwed shut as you keep going. You’re so good for them, with the way you’re clearly spent, all sluggish limbs and overstimulation, and still fucking yourself on him.

Viktor finishes quietly, another flood of heat within you as he sighs and throws his head back against the cushion of the couch. His frame shudders, a full body shake beneath the both of you as bliss takes over.

You start immediately to rub circles with your thumbs over Viktor’s shoulders, routine now as the three of you fall out of your haze, calm settling over you. Everything is still once more in the lab, the only noise your shared breathing and the hum of the generators.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, laughter on your lips. Jayce starts kissing the back of your neck, a soothing balm to ease tense muscles as he gently pulls out. He moves slowly, feeling the trickle of his spend follow his exit. You groan as he moves away, standing up from the couch.

“Come back,” you tell him, reaching out with one hand to try to beckon him back.

“You need a washcloth,” Jayce laughs, stark naked and proud of the mess he leaves the two of you on the couch. He shuffles over to the little wash basin and care station the three of you had slowly built up over the years. He runs the tap for a little while, waiting for the warm water before he brings the cloth under the flow of the water. He looks back at the two of you, flashing a toothy smile thats blinding even in the darkness of the lab.

“Braggadocios, is he not?” Viktor asks, a playful smirk on his tired face.

“Terribly,” you respond, winking at him.

“I can hear you two!” Jayce calls as he walks back over to the couch, “Conspiring against me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you hum, but he knows thats a lie.

He wouldn't have it any other way, though.

#jayvik x reader #jayce talis x reader #viktor x reader

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db0xtae · 2 days ago

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Winning the Breakup | Chapter 3

- Minho (Xo Kitty) X Reader

⋆˚࿔ Summary : Y/N, a talented and athletic after an intense breakup, Y/N reluctantly agrees to fake date Minho, to make their exes jealous. What begins as a mutual arrangement soon turns complicated when their fake relationship starts to feel all too real. With humor, bickering, and tender moments, Minho and Y/N's journey proves that sometimes the best way to heal from heartbreak is to allow yourself to fall in love.

⋆˚࿔ Warnings : None

⋆˚࿔ WC : 975

⋆˚࿔ Previous Chapter : 2

⋆˚࿔ A/N : Hope you enjoy!!!

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Chapter 3: The First Date

Sunday arrived far too quickly for Y/N’s liking. She’d spent the better part of the morning pacing around her dorm room, second-guessing her outfit for what Minho had so helpfully dubbed their “first date.”

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” Y/N muttered, staring at herself in the mirror. She’d settled on a simple yet cute outfit: a cream cardigan over a fitted tank top, high-waisted jeans, and white sneakers. It was casual enough not to scream “I’m trying too hard,” but still flattering enough to fit the fake girlfriend image.

Her roommate, Hana, raised an eyebrow from her bed. “You’re talking to yourself again. What’s the big deal? It’s just Minho.”

“Exactly,” Y/N said, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s Minho! The most insufferable guy at KISS. And now I have to spend the entire afternoon pretending I don’t want to strangle him.”

Hana smirked. “You’ll survive. Besides, isn’t he, like, ridiculously hot?”

“Hotness doesn’t make up for his personality,” Y/N retorted, grabbing her bag. “Wish me luck. Or don’t. I’m doomed either way.”

Minho was already waiting for her at the park, leaning casually against a bench like he’d just stepped out of a photoshoot. He was wearing a black turtleneck, tailored jeans, and a designer jacket, his hair perfectly styled.

Y/N approached him with a sigh. “You’re overdressed. This isn’t a K-drama.”

“And you’re underdressed,” he shot back, smirking. “This is supposed to be a date, Y/N. Put some effort in.”

“I look fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Wow, your enthusiasm is overwhelming,” Minho said, rolling his eyes. “Come on, we’re going for a walk.”

The two of them strolled through the park, trying to look like a couple while keeping as much distance between them as possible. Minho, apparently noticing the gap, grabbed her hand without warning.

“What are you doing?” Y/N hissed, yanking her hand back.

“People are watching,” he said simply, nodding toward a group of students from KISS sitting nearby. “You want them to believe us, right?”

Reluctantly, Y/N let him take her hand again. “This is the worst idea ever.”

Minho grinned. “You say that now, but by the end of the day, you’ll be thanking me.”

After walking for a while, Minho led her to an ice cream stand.

“I’ll take vanilla,” he told the vendor, then glanced at Y/N. “What about you?”

“Chocolate,” she said.

Minho paid for both, handing her the chocolate cone. “See? I’m a great fake boyfriend. Generous and thoughtful.”

“You’re literally just doing the bare minimum,” Y/N replied, taking a bite of her ice cream.

“Details,” he said with a shrug.

As they sat down on a nearby bench, a little girl walked up to them, staring at Minho with wide eyes.

“Are you a model?” she asked shyly.

Minho beamed. “Why, yes, I am.”

Y/N burst out laughing. “Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.”

“What?” Minho said defensively. “She asked!”

The girl giggled, then ran back to her parents, leaving Minho looking oddly pleased with himself.

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” Y/N said, shaking her head.

“I’m just giving the people what they want,” he replied, flashing her a wink.

As they continued their “date,” Y/N couldn’t help but notice how many KISS students they kept running into. It was almost suspicious.

“Did you tell the entire school to hang out here today?” she asked as another group of students waved at them.

“Of course not,” Minho said innocently. “But if people happen to see us together, who am I to stop them?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably charming,” he corrected.

She ignored him, but when they passed Alex and his new girlfriend, her heart skipped a beat. Alex froze when he saw them, his expression shifting from surprise to something that looked suspiciously like jealousy.

“Y/N?” Alex said, his tone laced with disbelief.

“Alex,” she replied coolly, tightening her grip on Minho’s hand.

Minho, ever the opportunist, pulled her closer, slipping an arm around her waist. “Hey, man,” he said casually. “You doing okay?”

Alex’s jaw tightened. “Fine. You two are…together?”

“Yep,” Minho said, smirking. “Crazy, right? Guess we were meant to be.”

Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Well, we should get going. See you around.”

As they walked away, she glanced back to see Alex watching them, his expression unreadable.

“You’re welcome,” Minho whispered, clearly pleased with himself.

“For what?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“For making your ex jealous, obviously,” he said. “Did you see his face? Priceless.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Y/N muttered, but she couldn’t deny that it felt oddly satisfying.

Later that evening, after their “date” was officially over, Y/N found herself sitting on the steps of her dorm, reflecting on the day.

To her surprise, Minho appeared, holding two cans of soda.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Thought you might want a drink,” he said, handing her a can.

She took it, eyeing him suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” he said, sitting down beside her. “I’m just being nice. Shocking, I know.”

Y/N snorted. “You, nice? That’s a first.”

“Hey, I can be nice when I want to be,” he said, opening his can.

They sat in silence for a moment, the awkwardness of the day fading into something almost comfortable.

“Do you think this is actually going to work?” Y/N asked finally.

Minho glanced at her, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Yeah, I do. But only if we’re both all in.”

“All in,” she repeated, nodding slowly. “Okay.”

He smirked, his usual cockiness returning. “Just don’t fall for me, darling.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Don’t worry. That’s not going to happen.”

But as she looked at him, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d just made a promise she couldn’t keep.

#minho xo kitty x reader #min ho x reader #xo kitty minho #minho moon #xo kitty season 2 #xo kitty s2 #xo kitty s1 #xo kitty imagine #xo kitty fanfic #xo kitty #minho xo kitty #minho #sang heon lee x reader #sang heon lee #xo kitty x reader #jenny han #to all the boys: p.s. i still love you #to all the boys: always and forever #to all the boys i've loved before

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loviestar58 · 2 days ago

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🐶~New Pet~🐶

Little blurb I had sitting for a bit I thought people would like!💖

"Ekks-"

"No"

"Ekks..we have to keep him"

"Firefly, we just went over this. What about the kids? And then we have to find the supplies for it and-"

"We can get all those. I'll get them! And the kids can help, oh come oonnnnnnn"

"Firefly, please-"

"But Eeekkkkssss look at hiiiimmm!"

You two were standing in a dark alleyway of Zaun near the Lanes, not too far from the entrance to the hideout, having just got done with a patrol. Upon coming back, you had noticed something moving some trash near the alley, becoming alert and notifying Ekko before stepping towards the movement cautiously. Barely a few steps were taken towards the sound before the thing causing the movement jumped out at you, knocking you down, a big white fluffy dog, a Husky that looked no older than a year old. And that led them to this situation, you desperately trying to convince Ekko to keep it.

"If we leave him out here, he could starve or be killed! You know damn well animals don't live long here!" You argued, gesturing to the world around you. Ekko had to admit you had a point, you didn't see many animals here, they'd either be dead or very unhealthy. But his thinking didn't last long, groaning in a bit of frustration, gesturing a hand towards the animal.

"Yeah, that's true. I know that, but-"

"And think of the possibilities! Like, he could grow to be a sort of guard dog! And the kids would have an animal to play with all the time, maybe it could even be an emotional support animal! And-and he could carry supplies, or be a messenger dog to warn people of dangers or the groups on patrols-!"

You rambled on and on with each and every possibility you could think of, any reason that popped in that head of yours to convince Ekko to being the dog into the Hideout. Ekko cut you off with a stern yet soft tone, trying not to let his growing annoyance and frustration show too much, even if you mean well

"What if it's a Pilties dog? What if they try to come find him and then find us? They'll accuse us of theft and then try to arrest us, or just shoot on sight, I wouldn't put it past them"

You looked downcast for a moment, that was another good point. It would be risky if the dog did belong to someone in Piltover. But you didn't care, you couldn't just leave the poor, adorable thing here, the thing in question panting and wagging it's tail up at you two. You swore you felt your heart ache at the adorable sight, cuteness aggression threatening to take over you

"There's no collar, and he looks like he's been here a while. Maybe he ran away or the owner didn't want him anymore? I think we'll be fine. Please, Ekks?" You beg, clasping your hands together, and pouting out your lip in a comically dramatic fashion, like a cartoon character

Oh no. Not the puppy dog eyes. It's ok, he can resist those. He's dealt with many of the firelight kids hitting him with that, and it rarely works and-

Oh dammit

Is the dog doing it too?!

Ekko froze, glancing between the two and groaning with a mix of frustration and reluctance, unable to deny you, knowing how stubborn you were. Recalling many instances of you refusing to back down when wanting something or in an argument with him about patrol grouping and routes.

He knew he was losing this battle, lest he faces your wrath. And so, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, another groan, and then a soft defeated chuckle leaving his lips as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He looks up at you and he can't help now but to smile

"Ugh, fine! But we are making sure he doesn't have any diseases before going near the kids!"

You lit up, fist pumping in a quiet "Yes!". Both of you walked the rest of the way back, dog in tow.

A very happy you

And a slightly annoyed, yet content, Ekko

Bonus:

Ekko was found hours later asleep on the spare cot in his lab, the puppy laying on top of him as he snored softly

Hope y'all enjoyed this cute little blurb. Might do more of these than longer one shots and headcanons if y'all like them😊💖

#ekko x reader #ekko arcane #ekko #arcane x reader #arcane #arcane ekko

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thebroccolination · 3 days ago

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There’s literally no one on this planet better at manifesting than Krist Perawat, and I have PROOF:

He asked GMMTV for years to give him and Singto another BL series, but they gave him het lakorns. He wanted to play the top, but he was typecast as the cute tsundere. He watched Singto leave their company to begin a freelance career, and he couldn’t convince Singto to come back no matter what he said or did.

Most would have given up.

And then, bam, Krist got literally everything he wanted.

So either it was manifesting or the universe just knew it owed him a solid after everything else it put him through.

Also, yes, I’m going to keep inventing reasons to repost this screenshot until a new one takes its place as the center of my world. :)

Anyway yay, we’re finally getting the KristSingto in KristSingto.

#that last bit was a hint to bounprem #start revamp filming or i’ll die :)#krist perawat #singto prachaya #kristsingto #the ex-morning

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haedia · 20 hours ago

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It's entirely possible that his original writer had this in mind for him. So I don't want to think the comments are a blatant attempt at a retcon (especially when the person that asked could see some of themselves in him and that's why they asked). But it doesn't feel great.

And portions of the fandom that just cannot handle people being frustrated with it aren't helping. Like, hey, fellow Lucanis enjoyers? It's actually really shitty to reductively engage with frustrations some have with how Lucanis is clearly missing content as people crying about not getting more sexy scenes with him.

The missing content here isn't the storyboarded bits in the artbook.

He's just not as finished as the other companions.

His romance banter and scenes with Neve are glaring examples of the disconnect though. Like, his writing is just inconsistent between the two romances. To the point that he almost feels like a different character and that's not great either. (And, since some fans are weird about criticism of that as well, I feel like I have to put a disclaimer here: I love Neve! She's great! When I don't romance either of them, I'm glad they can find each other! Those feelings don't change my frustration with the previously stated issues!)

I remember seeing a post about the differences between the kinds and intensity of the relationships between him+Rook and him+Neve and I really liked the comparison (and it resonated with what I think they were intending for him more) but we still needed to see more of that develop. As-is we're left to fill in the blanks way more than we should.

And hey, gonna get real here: I'm demisexual. My complaints about the Lucanis romance aren't me misunderstanding demisexuality. Like, no, I get being demi. I am on that spectrum. But like, Veilguard isn't very good at subtlety in character stuff. And we had confirmation of this game not featuring acespec romances, since they wanted to do it right or whatever. Those facts, adding in with how incomplete he feels...well, again it's not great. Hence the frustration.

Related to Lucanis being demi, though: Demisexuality is broad, and there's a lot of room to play in that representation box, both in terms of representation in media and in how fans express that in fanworks.

Been seeing a lot of criticism of how fans interpret Lucanis in fanworks, as if he should only be depicted in specific ways, as if demisexuality is rigid in how it can be expressed. Which is bullshit.

If you like interpreting Lucanis a more sex-repulsed or sex-averse or some variation of not as down to be intimate, cool fine. Do that and enjoy works that feature him that way. But there are plenty of demisexual people that have sex drives and once they're locked in with their person, it's go time. Just that, outside of that relationship (or relationships if polyamorous), it's not really there. And this may blow some minds but demisexual people can be into/have kinks! They're not mutually exclusive! (The number of demi and other acespec people I know in the kink community is just a lot. But that's a digression for another day)

Anyway.

There was room for Lucanis to explore his identity with Rook (romanced or not) in the game. He may not have the terms for it but he would know he's different. Like, I didn't have the label for me being agender until I was probably in my twenties? But I knew back in elementary school. Demisexuality was a similar situation. I knew in middle school but didn't have a term until much later.

The fact that we have none of that with him, though, both sucks and is glaring. It should be more explicit in the text, both for representation purposes and for more depth for his character.

Without it, it just feels like a half-written mess with a sprinkling of "Oh yeah, we totally did that on purpose", which again: not great!

I openly accept any corrections, especially from actual Lucanis fans or demisexuals. If you disagree with anything I say this point onwards, please tell me!

The way Lucanis went from "bisexual disaster " to "panromantic demisexual" after the game came out feels weird (Both are direct quotes about Lucanis from Mary Kirby). Before I get into this I'd like to clarify, neither is a problem, Lucanis being demisexual in a vacuum is not what I take issue with.

But it feels like another excuse. Being demisexual means something it's not just another word for inexperienced or hesitant. If Lucanis is demisexual why does he fall for Neve or Rook nearly just as fast as any other companion does and why does he never acknowledge that?

There are many hints that he's never dated before (not sure if it's ever outrught stated), and again, he is shown to be hesitant... but nothing uniquely in the direction of demisexuality.

This game clearly isn't afraid of using real terms (it has an entire codex going over different non-binary labels), so why is this where they draw the line? Why does Lucanis never acknowledge the fact that he requires a deep connection before he feels certain things?

I've seen people call Krem from DA:I bad trans representation because he's never called transgender, which I respectfully disagree with. Still, Krem is explicitly trans and then Lucanis's demisexual coding is just... pulling away before you can kiss? It doesn't help that the scene happens after something that would definitely explain why Lucanis would need to clear his head.

That's also paired with the fact we do get told constantly that he's traumatised and he mentions having little faith in people prior to his romance (at least with Neve). This isn't to say he can't be demisexual, not at all, but there's always an explanation for his behaviour that people would think of before demisexuality and there's no effort put in to otherwise lead us to it.

For a game that is on the nose about everything, I find it hard to give them the benefit of the doubt that this was the one thing they handled with subtlety.

Best case scenario, Mark Kirby was just trying to... I don't know, set up expectations to defy them? Worst case scenario, this is just another case of someone from Bioware lying to us about this damn game.

#I love him so much and yet the state of him is frustrating #Like look at the state of my blog #clearly I love this sad traumatized man #I just grieve what we didn't get #lucanis dellamorte #prev tags that were fantastic >#this is my issue #like nothing screams definitively demi to me #being romantically and/or sexually awkward or disinclined is not exclusive to aspec people #it just seems to be the most popular way to portray them as far as I’ve seen #it seems almost like the only way they’re ever portrayed #and given everything he’s been through I think he has plenty of plausible reasons to take some time #if so much of his writing hadn’t been cut to leave giant blank spaces in the writing (not just a lack of romance I’m talkin a lack of #*anything*. period. they cut scenes and *did not* replace them. with anything.)#on top of him previously being referred to outside of canon as a bisexual person #then maybe I would put more stock into the idea that she always had this underlying idea that he would be demi #but reading between the lines it really just sounds like some throwaway line meant to pander and also put a group of fans between the #writers and people who might be unsatisfied with the writing #like you’ve got a whole subgroup of people within the fandom all of a sudden who will fight tooth and nail #because table scrap representation is what they’re used to and if it’s all they’ll ever get they’re gonna white knuckle it to the end #like I’m glad people feel seen but you aren’t the only ones #it’s always nice to feel validated—by the person responsible for the character you’re attached to no less #but interpretation is up to each individual peering through a lense of their own experiences #and just because you may relate to him for one reason doesn’t mean you get to tell me I’m wrong for relating for another #if it wasn’t meant to be left up to interpretation they would have thrown it in our face like they did with Taash #even if you’re of the mind that he wouldn’t understand the concept himself there was no reason he couldn’t have had a talk with other npcs #who feel similarly the same way Taash did #Taash didn’t *have* the terminology to begin with so it’s reasonable to believe Lucanis wouldn’t have either #doesn’t mean he couldn’t have figured it out through the narrative if interpretation wasn’t meant to be a part of it

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gaillol-13 · 1 year ago

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Scruckley weirdo in the woods (not clickbait)

(Episode is All That Glitters btw)

#inspector gadget #gadget #stuff #its so fun seeing him without his hat #like cuz we see him in various outfits but he never takes his hat off #either leaves it on or puts another on top of it #but here he doesn't have it on #fascinating...#also im just really obsessed about seeing gadget in tank tops lol

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gobbluthbutagirl · 2 years ago

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that target i work in is literally SO horrible and bad and the thing is. it’s always been like this. But the other thing is. they used to have better people in charge! so it used to be tolerable!

#i think the former closing lead leaving basically set off a domino effect like #she got promoted out of the store > they promoted a guy who was too young to replace her > he struggled too much > FOS team lead quit #> instead of promoting a new FOS team lead they promote ANOTHER young guy to be a second closing lead >#they put a lead who literally sucks in charge of FOS on top of her other department > she makes it worse >#they bring me in to ‘help her’ and she straight up stops communicating with me after two weeks >#i receive all communication from my favorite lead but they don’t tell him shit either >#he leaves the store and moves to florida because his husband gets promoted >#i IMMEDIATELY decide i’m leaving too > something something > who knows > the whole store blows up with everybody still inside >#they have to shut it down. presumably #my job wrapped

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orangerafe · 16 days ago

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reader teasing older!rafe about being old, so he fucks the attitude out of you.

cw; smut, rough sex, slapping, choking if it even counts, degrading names

the whole day you had been teasing rafe, throwing soft insults at him about being so old, even going as far as mentioning your faux surprise that he was even able to ‘get it up.’ rafe tried to stay calm, knowing that it was in your nature to tease and fuck around with him. but when you did mention him ‘getting it up,’ he was infuriated

that was how you found yourself in this situation. your ass was in the air, head dug into your now makeup ruined sheets. rafes large hand was holding you by the back of your neck, keeping you shoved down into the sheets. he was furious, thrusting into you at an inhumane pace

your legs were kicking, trying to protest against his roughness bur rafe of course didn’t care, and instead went even harder. the room was full of lewd noises, your pornographic moans, his foul words and the disgusting sound of your ass plaping against his pelvis. he leaned down, breath hot against your ear. “this’s what you get for being such a bitch, you asked for it ar’ight? stop your fucking whining.” whispered with such roughness, it made you clench around him

you were wailing into the pillows, the sound barely muffled you were that loud. you knew your pathetic attempts of trying to get him to slow down wouldn’t work, but you being so stubborn, you didn’t stop. your brain was frazzled, hair in the exact same state since you two had been going at it for a while now. “look at you, clenching ‘round me like a slut.” he laughed, the sound coming from deep in his chest

he wouldn’t say it, but he loved the fact you got off on him being so rough, because he did too. he obsessed over the way your pussy would clench around him with each degrading word he’d throw at you, and he loved how you only moaned louder when he got rougher. his hand traveled from your hip to the globe of your ass, placing a hard smack to it that made you jolt forward and let out a squeal

rafe laughed again, finding your reactions amusing. “squealing like a goddamn pig.” he grunted, hand now soothing the flesh before placing another hard smack to your rear. you moaned loudly, the stinging pain making a familiar cord tighten up in your tummy. rafe felt it too, in the way your pussy clenched and the way your noises got more frequent

“gonna cum f’me baby? gonna cum on this old man’s cock?” he cooed, squeezing your ass harshly. you nodded into the pillows, letting out an urgent moan as his other hand traveled down to rub on your abused and puffy clit, giving it much needed attention. “cmon, be a good girl and cum.” he rumbled out. he loved it when you came, he seen it like a reward for making you feel so good

he felt you get tighter around him, and he went even harder now trying to chase his own orgasm. “you talk a whole lotta shit, telling me i’m so old yet your cumming on this cock everyday of the week.” he grunted into your ear, burying his forehead into your neck. your eyes rolled to the back of your head, manicured toes curling as an earth shattering orgasm washed over you

your head spun, wave after wave of pleasure crashing down on you as rafe kept pounding. you got so tight, and rafe couldn’t help but groan. “shit, this pussy’s so fuckin tight.” he growled, leaning back up and placing his hands on your hips, gripping them harshly as he now started to chase his own orgasm. he went even faster if that was possible, nails leaving small cuts at how hard he was gripping your fleshy hips

you squealed at the overstimulation, as well as rafes words. rafes hips slammed against yours, and before either of you knew it he was cumming deep into your womb, seed leaking everywhere. “shittt” he groaned, pace starting to shudder. you moaned at the feeling of his cum spurting into you, and at the noises he made

he keeled over on top of you, panting onto the crevice of your neck. he stayed put for a few seconds before pulling out, sitting up and letting you fall flat onto the bed. he laughed as he watched you slump, hair all messy and sheets covered in your mascara. “ain’t so mouthy now huh?” he said, a smug grin appearing on his face

you were delirious, unable to fully comprehend his words never mind what was going on. rafe moved you over a little, laying down beside you before pulling the sheets over the both of you. “this right here is why i fuck you, your mouth stays fuckin shut for once in your life” he whispered before placing a kiss to your head then turning over and shutting his eyes, leaving you in an absolute heap beside him

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sunderwight · 5 months ago

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SV fic where Shen Yuan rationally decides to be gay. For rational, strategic reasons. He has to do it.

Reason 1: every woman in the world has pretty much been reserved for the protagonist. trying to get with anyone would seal his fate as a rival, on top of a villain! he's basically either got to spend the rest of his life a bachelor or find another option.

Reason 2: obviously as a straight man Shen Yuan would prefer the bachelor option, but that's just leaving him wide open to attacks! Shen Qingqiu already did a poor job of cementing any alliances, having no family to speak of and pissing off the majority of his sect siblings. frankly he's left Shen Yuan in a bind that only some kind of concrete financial and social alliance could solve!

Reason 3: no man wants to die a virgin, right?

Reason 4: increasingly progressive standards in fiction have actually made it gauche to kill off openly gay characters. while a stallion novel might still go in that direction, it's not like he could make his fate much worse, so it's worth a shot, right?

anyway this all leads to Shen Yuan carefully reconstructing the image of Shen Qingqiu into the token complicated gay character. obviously he's not going to put the moves on any of his disciples (he doesn't want to fall into those gay stereotypes!), but to cement the image of himself as a gay man he's going to need to put the moves on someone.

it's a shame that the OG was so well-established in his enmity towards the sect leader. Yue Qingyuan seems like he might have at least entertained such interest, although he's also more of a brotherly type and probably not gay, so perhaps it's for the best in the long run.

luckily, another option falls right into Shen Qingqiu's lap (almost literally!) when he saves Liu Qingge from a qi deviation.

Liu Qingge is actually the perfect target for an unrequited crush. it recontextualizes some of his and the original's enmity, Liu Qingge was dead in the original story so it's not likely to mess up anything worse than him just being alive does, Liu Qingge is beautiful enough that it's believable anyone would be secretly in love with him, and a war god is almost certainly straight, which gives Shen Qingqiu time to adjust to the idea of living as a gay man for the rest of his (hopefully long) life. y'know, before he finds an actual gay to partner with!

the only downside is that coming on to Liu Qingge might discourage him from protecting Shen Qingqiu and repaying his debt in the long run. luckily, that doesn't seem to be the case! despite his face frequently turning red (from anger?) and him sometimes literally fleeing at Shen Qingqiu's awkward attempts at flirting, Liu Qingge never misses an appointment to cleanse his meridians, and seems to take his safety and well-being very seriously.

what an honorable man!

shame that Luo Binghe doesn't seem to like him, though. Shen Qingqiu's not sure what to make of all that. that's your future brother-in-law, Binghe! at least make an attempt to win him over! oh well. at least he's not ruining a relationship between in-laws that otherwise could have been good, as he makes extra sure to subtly bemoan, in front of Luo Binghe, the tragedy of his deep unrequited love for Liu Qingge. for like the third time that week.

#svsss #bingqiu #liushen #scum villain #scum villain's self saving system

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riaki · 1 year ago

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i literally cant stop thinkin’ about highschoolbully!gojo who used to be your ride or die ‘til he started getting attention from those popular jock type guys who are always assholes to everyone. and him being.. well, him means he preens under attention no matter who it’s from, so naturally he started to gravitate towards that group and their little troop of cheerleading fangirls. and then he started distancing from you and without either of you really realizing it, you’ve slipped between the other’s fingers. but the way he acts towards you makes you think he let you fall without moving a muscle to slow you down.

soon enough, a year swings by and by the end of it he’s gone from your life, save as just another face in the gaggle of boys who make crude jokes and laugh at smart kids and pop milk cartoons during lunch just for the hell of it. but you’re minding your own business, ‘cause you’re mature enough to realize that people come and go, no matter how close you might’ve been and you think it’s unfortunate that so many memories could be thrown aside in a blink of an eye, but it makes a lot of sense when you walk past satoru and his friends bullying some random kid. you don’t know him, but you’ve heard enough to realize it’s his girlfriend satoru’s flirting with while his ‘gang’ kick at the kid. and it’s sickening, but you don’t say anything when you walk by.

and when you don’t ever see the kid afterward and catch the dark eyebags under his girlfriend’s eyes, you come to the cruel realization that satoru isn’t the boy who’d bandage the scrape on your knee you got from tripping in the playground or buy you a soda because he’s noticed your sweat when you were walking home and you don’t have any money left on you.

it’s a glass half empty, half full type of situation. on the one hand, you don’t have him anymore. on the other hand, you don’t have him anymore. that is, you lost your best friend, but you’ve also lost someone who has the potential to absolutely ruin your life. and you don’t know whether to be glad or not, so you just mind your own business even if it hurts a little when he ignores you, stops tossing paper at your head in class (unless it’s to embarrass you) and stops walking you to and from school.

but the cherry on top of the shit cake is that he doesn't get it. so when he approaches you in the library one day after satiating the need to tear pages from books and make them into paper airplanes to throw at people, he doesn't seem to understand why you try to ignore him, or put off his attempts to hold a convo. but the worst part is that he's just sleazy and clueless about it. it's like he took an eraser and wiped every single year of your friendship off the chalkboard with one fell swipe, and you wish he'd done that too to the less-than-appropriate messages he and his friends had written towards one of your classmates.

he doesn't understand why you're hesitant to talk, and that's what makes it the worst. he always thinks he's in the right, and he keeps setting you off and it sucks that he knows exactly what sets you off. "i'm an asshole? what're you talking about? really, you're in over your head. you never change." he laughs, and you ignore him, and he gets bored, and he's about to leave when he spots your wallet open next to your book, on the table. there's a polaroid peeking out, and he recognizes the tufts of white hair to be him. but there's a weird feeling in his chest, and he thinks he gets it from you, so he leaves because he thinks you're weird.

and it goes on; you practically become a nobody in satoru's eyes, because of that weird, weird feeling you give him. it's unfamiliar and he's never gotten it before and he doesn't like it. but it's unavoidable when your professor pairs you two for the end-of-term project. and of course, you're ready to do all the work, because that's how it always was between you when you were kids. but sometimes he'd surprise you by helping, and he'd show you that he was actually intelligent just to earn your praise because he liked it. but he ignored you, and you did everything, and it would've been okay if not for his friends egging him on to present your entire project when the day came and leave you with no content for a grade.

that's the first time it hits him: does he really want to do that? but it's not like it'll be the first time; you've always taken the hits for him, because you're naturally smart and you'll pick yourself back up in no time, and you get why he does it, so it'll be okay. so he agrees, and he enjoys the time he gets to spend with you through it, but the nagging weird feeling that blooms in his chest like a pesky weed only grows stronger. that's all his feelings ever seem to do around you.

but before you know it, presentation day swings around. you had coffee this morning (on his card), and you're ready enough to shoot him a small smile that sends his heart a-flutter. so you go up, feeling up to the task and ready until— he starts talking, and talking, and talking, and people don't think that he's taking your words out of your mouth because he's intelligent when he wants to make you praise him and you don't get the chance to get a word in and you notice the guys are laughing and hitting each other's shoulders to themselves in the upper rows and before you know it it's over. people are clapping but moreso they're looking at you and they're whispering— but it's terribly loud and they don't bother to hide it. they call you things that shouldn't bother you but they do anyway, because it's satoru's fault, and you're such a fool for thinking you could have it your way again.

so you leave class early, excusing yourself and ignoring the way your professor gives you a distasteful look and scribbles something next to your name. you're out the door in a second, neglecting your bags and satoru's a little lost because— didn't he just do good? people were clapping, and laughing with him and not at him, but it's attention either way so he doesn't mind. so why do you? why did you look at him like he stabbed you in the back? and his friends are calling his name, and he wishes he could chase after you and do something but he doesn't.

and it's a little sickening what they do next; one of their girls grabbed your bags and tossed it to them, and they've started rifling through it as if they own it, tearing up your shit and dumping everything onto the ground and he's kind of just... glued to the chair by his feelings. his heart feels like it's been patched together and the weird fuzzy feeling he had in his chest that's been cultivating has extinguished to be replaced with something he realizes he's only ever felt when it comes to you— guilt.

he's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't realize his friend is silently offering him something— nudging his side to get his attention. he takes it without really realizing he moved his hand, and his silent friend with the gauges in his ears and the dark hair gets up and leaves without another word. when satoru looks down, he realizes he's been given your wallet. "the reward for betraying your baby," they call it. like all you're worth is the money in your account.

he's a little curious. that's how he's always been; asking you questions, rummaging through your stuff, laughing sheepishly and shaking it off when you caught him red-handed. so he opens it up, ignoring your sad little cards and the funny look on your license. he's looking for something, subconsciously; but he doesn't find it. there's no white tuft of hair to suggest his presence in your life; just empty black leather. nothing else.

and he doesn't see you after. or the following day. or the following weeks; weeks that turn into months that turn into the end of school and he's graduating but you're not by his side. and neither are his so called 'friends'; the only thing he has to their name is your own ruined friendship. it's a shame; he feels alone. very alone. no fuzzy weird feeling, not even that thing people call guilt. no attention to chase, and connections are ever harder to make. it shouldn'tve mattered that much, right? it was just a presentation. why wouldn't you just come back to him like you always did? were you not still friends...?

but the blood is still on his hands, and he doesn't manage to ever wash it off. guilt has a way of festering; of weighing on the heart 'till there's nothing left to feel or think but unfortunate circumstance and what could've been done differently. it just sucks that he never tried hard enough to keep you from slipping between his grasp. and now, he doesn't even have a polaroid to your friendship's name.

pt.2

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irisinluv · 5 months ago

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Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? PT 1

All I could do was stare at my reflection. This had to be a joke. I was going to wake up in my bed, right this instant.

“FUCK!”

Ok, so, pinching myself hurts. That’s fine. This is like. Some sort of lucid dream. What do they say to do if you’re lucid dreaming? Oh, that’s right, put your finger in your palm, it’ll phase through!

I resist the urge to scream as my finger meets solid flesh.

You see, I’m not in the right body. Or the right world from what I can tell. No, I’m supposed to be back home, waking up in a panic as I realize my alarm didn’t go off cuz my phone died after I stayed up way too late reading manga.

But of course, I’m not late to work, I’m in a lavish bedchamber right out of the latest webcomic I’d been reading! And by the looks of it…. I’m the crown princes crazy fiancé! As much as I love reading about the Isekai trope, I never wanted to be in one! And come on- as the Yandere Villain!? Couldn’t this at least be original? There’s hundred of stories just like “my next life as a villainess,” why couldn’t I be like… a stable hand or something? Ugh. Ok. Think!

I need to get home. Do the protagonists ever get back home in the stories I read? I pace around my room and rack my brain over every webcomic I’ve ever read, every manga I waited in line for, every anime I binged, even the unfinished manhwas! I can’t think of a single fucking one where they get home?

Well this isn’t going to stop me. I have a cat who’s going to absolutely flip if she’s not given fresh kibble in the morning. She has enough in her bowl for another 2 days but she needs it topped off ok! She’s a princess! I can’t be stuck here! Who’s going to throw her pompom toy for her if I’m not there???

What did all these have in common? What’s the barebones trope layout? Ok let’s see

1) person either died or falls asleep and wakes up in a new world…. Check

2) person is the villain!…. Check

3) to avoid the characters terrible death, person tries to change the story, ends up being new protagonist…

Ohhh… hey…. Do these Isekai characters ever just…. Play along? Even the “reincarnated as a baby” ones, they only play along till they’re old enough to try to run away or rework the political structure of the entire city. Maybe that’s it. Make it to the books natural end, and you’ll wake up where you belong. It’s like when you get part of a song stuck in your head. Play the whole song, and it’ll get out.

Ok, I’ve trained most of my adult life for this- I can totally ace this trope! I just have to stalk the crown prince, act totally in love with him, and be a bitch to the female lead. Then my finance will leave me, I’ll do some crazy dramatic act to try to kill the female lead, and then I’ll be exiled or executed, and wake up to feed my cat. How hard can it be?

Hard. It’s very hard.

Where the hell did he go!? My fiancé, the crown prince Eric, was JUST HERE. I swear! He turned that corner back there and then went down this hall… at least I think it was this hall? Ugh! This is impossible! For someone with such loud shoes and an armed escort, you’d think he’d be easier to follow! Now my feet just hurt. They don’t make these fancy shoes to run around the castle all day. They’re meant to daintily peek from beneath my many skirts as I host a tea party or some shit.

Ok. I’ve got this! I’ll just peek into each room until I find him, maybe I can get a better feel for the layout, or maybe find his office and see if he has a schedule or a day planner or something I can use to make this whole stalking thing easier.

I begin snooping, and it’s a bit of thrill to be honest! Back in my real life, I’m the kind of person to hide a wrapper deep in the trash can if I’m babysitting, sitting on the floor playing a game on my phone after the kid goes to bed rather than “making myself at home” the way the parents insisted as they showed me how to access Netflix. I’ve never been a snooper. Now…. Well. It’s totally on brand for this character! I’m not me, I’m a psycho lovesick fool! I giggle a bit at that as my fingers trail over a shelf of beautiful pottery in some sort of sitting room.

“What’s so amusing dearest?”

I practically screech as my heart leaps to my throat and I whirl around, and see the very person I’d been searching for has snuck up on ME…. That’s so unfair!

“W-what? O-oh! Nothing! I was just- uh, admiring the pottery?”

I stutter out as I try to recall how to act like a human being while simultaneously trying to stop feeling my own pulse in my ears. The idiot has the nerve to LAUGH! Full on snort and everything!

“What are you doing in this wing anyways? Weren’t you meant to be out riding today?”

Shit. I was so busy trying to figure out his schedule, I didn’t consider maybe the body I was shoved into had a schedule of her own. Ok. Play it cool- I’ve got this!

“Yes, well, I decided I wasn’t in the mood and wanted to stay in today instead.”

His brows furrow

“Oh, but you love riding? Are you feeling ill? I can fetch the royal physician for you if you-“

“No! That’s- that’s quite alright! I simply wanted a change of schedule, that is all. Um… what about you? What are your plans for the day?”

He looked a bit surprised at that, and a small smile danced on his lips.

“I was just going to the library to do some paperwork, boring stuff really, and then of course our dinner at its regular time.”

I nod like that means anything to me. Ok think, if I were crazy in love with this man, what would I say?

“Would you like some company? Reading in the library sounds really nice, maybe we could have some tea as well?”

Ok. I’m already fucking this up. He looks confused…. God damnit …. I knew I shouldn’t have skimmed over those early chapters- but the translation was shit ok!?

“Well… I’d actually love that. But are you sure? You haven’t exactly shown interest in reading, and you’ve never requested something like this before…. In fact I don’t think I can recall the last time we’ve interacted outside of dinner or a scheduled social event in… well. Ever.”

Wait…. What? Isn’t my character like goo-goo-ga-ga over him? Are you telling me she never asks to just… spend time with her lover? They only talk during dinner and parties or whatever?

“Of course, I think it’ll be relaxing! Just lead the way!”

My brain is working overtime as I smile politely at him as we reach the library and I pretend to browse for books. I’m missing something here. What is-

Oh. Shit. That’s right. I’m supposed to be really insecure and awkward about him. That’s why she stalks him- she spends all her free time obsessing over this man from the shadows, threatening the competition…. Yet chokes up when it comes to how to act natural. Her inferiority complex is what drives her entire character. And then to him, they’re just two nobles in an arranged marriage who speak on dull subjects like the weather and horse rides…. And who barely interact.

This must have been a real big shake up, she always stays out of sight, they never run into each other by chance. And she certainly never would ask to sit and read with him…. Maybe watch him do his work from a hidden keyhole somewhere, but that’s right…. She IS more of a traditional lady with her hobbies. She was raised to be the perfect noble wife, so naturally, her hobbies include things like dancing, needlepoint, and horse riding. The only studies she’s interested in are etiquette and things that noble ladies are supposed to know.

Well…. Shit. That’s so like me to already have fucked this up. But that’s ok. That’s ok- he’s going to meet the female lead and fall in love and so I just have to be the obstacle they need to overcome. Surely the details don’t matter too much…. It’s my first day in the job ok? Not everyone’s perfect!

I find a book that honestly actually sounds interesting, it’s historical, but it’s giving Hellen of Troy, the closest to a dark romance I think I’ll get from an academic personal library like this. I settle into what looks like the comfiest chair in the central area, and begin reading. The prince and I exist comfortably, the only sound being the scratch of his pen, and the occasional rustle of paper as he flips a document or I finish a page. We continue like this for several hours until he puts down his pen and clears his throat, getting my attention.

“I know it’s a long way from dinner…. But I was thinking I’d grab something light for a mid day meal and then take a walk about the gardens …. Would you care to join me?”

Honestly, some lunch and pretty royal gardens sounds like so much fun, so I agree. As we begin walking, I ponder how I can recover from all this.

You know what.. this can totally still go to plan. This is just me being the evil villain and sinking my claws into him! The female lead will appear, and I’ll reveal my true, nasty side to her! She’ll have to fight to save the prince from his marriage to me!

*insert evil laughter!*

“You’re smiling.”

“W-what?”

“A smile. It suits you. You’ve been doing that a lot today….. I like it.”

Ok and now I’m blushing. I go to reply when I suddenly find myself weightless for a moment, and then hit the ground with a hard thump.

“Ow! What the-!?”

My eyes snap up and glare at this pretty blonde girl who just rammed into me, and sent me flying

“Do you not know how to watch where you’re going!? Owww…. Ugh.”

Ok I’m sorry I’m usually a nice and understanding person but I’ve never been literally knocked over before! Who does that to a person?

Eric helps me to my feet and sends a reproachful glare toward the girl, asking me if I’m alright with most concerned look…. And the girl gasps and says,

“C-crown prince Eric! I apologize! I’d didn’t recognize you!”

She drops into a curtsy and lowers her eyes all demure and modest as if she hadn’t just bulldozed me. I send an incredulous look toward Eric…. She… didn’t see HIM? I’m the one she took out? He gives me an equally puzzled look and so I decide, you know what, fuck it. I’m this evil person in this world…. I need to act like it!

“And not recognizing his highness is an excuse for taking out the princess consort, soon to be crown princess? Are you blind or just daft?”

Oh my god I really just called someone daft! This feels like when you stay up late thinking all the witty comebacks you could’ve used against your high school bullies, except actually using them in the moment!

And Eric is being a sweetie and letting me handle this, waiting expectantly for blondie to answer me, just prompting her,

“Well?”

“Forgive me…. Princess consort…. You are right. My oversight in inexcusable. It appears neither of us were looking where we were going. I hope we can start fresh!”

I scoff- that’s it? Who does this bitch think she is? Yes, I was looking at Eric, but I was going a walking pace, who rounds a corner with so much force that you knock someone over?

Suddenly something clicks- oh shit! This is the female lead!!!! This scene happened in the story, just without the prince here. This is good, that means this is on track. Although I gotta say- I was much more on the female main characters side when reading it. Now, I just feel like she’s one of those mean girls in high school who’s not *technically* doing anything mean. Anyways- what was I supposed to say? That’s right.

“Yes…. Well. I’m sure we won’t be seeing much of each other anyways. If you’ll excuse me-“

Nailed ittttt…. Now her line?

“Well, actually…. My name is Lady Cressida, and I’ll be staying in the place for several months as my father is a foreign ambassador overseeing trade agreements with his highness the king. So I imagine we will be seeing *plenty* of each other. That goes for you too your highness! So please- forgive me, I look forward to getting to know each of you better!”

Oh that’s so cool, seeing her recite the lines from the story. But ok- I have a role to play as well. I scoff and grab Eric’s arm, pulling him behind me as I storm off, playing the part of entitled lover, stuck up and irritated at this ambassadors daughter who DARED to speak to my love.

Yea, this will work, Eric will think Cressida is a genuine sweetie, and see me as being the unreasonable bitch who’s refusing to accept her apology, or apologize for not looking where I was going either. And now I’m manhandling him- totally unlady like. God I’m killing this aren’t I? Minimum wage job and demanding cat, here I come!

What I don’t see, as I lead Eric by the arm, is the cold glare he shoots towards Cressida, before smiling down at our connected hands, an unreadable look in his eyes.

Part 2

SERIES IS DISCONTINUED- sorry y’all, just not inspired to write this anymore and don’t wanna force it.

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sturnlsstuff · 5 months ago

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MISSED YOU | chris sturniolo

| ".... god, i hate that i missed you so much"

pairing: dealer!chris x fem!reader

summary: your dealer has been out of town for almost two weeks and after he's finally back, he texts you needing to see you.

warnings; smut, dom!chris, sub!reader, p in v, pet names, praising, unprotected sex, dirty talking, hair pulling, rough sex, car sex, crying, public¿ sex, cursing, mdni

a/n: literally my first fanfic after a looong time so please bear with me, if its bad... you know why. english isnt my first language so sorry for any mistakes! also its a little long 😭 part two here !!

~~~

she laughed at some joke her friend made and took another bite of her pizza. it was late friday afternoon, she and her bestfriends were hanging out, since there was nothing else to do. everything was great, until her phone buzzed. she looks at her screen, immediately smiling when she sees his name. she wasn't even aware that her lips had curved into a smile.

her friends were too busy with their own conversation, so she uses her moment and grabs her phone, reading the message from chris. she hasn't heard from him in over two weeks, she had no clue what he was doing, or where he was. she also didn't want to ask, hating the feeling of being too desperate. and it's not like he owns her any explanation either.

chris: u busy?

she bites her lip, fighting the urge to smile again as she replies back.

y/n: hi to you too

y/n: yeah im out with friends, whats up

chris: having fun?

chris: when u gonna be home ma?

y/n: like in an hour or so

chris: can u hurry up? c'mon kid i miss ya

y/n: you do???

she can't help but genuinely grins this time, her eyes widen a little. did he miss her? or was he just saying that to make her give in? he always knew how to talk to her, to make her going feral over him. but she wanted to believe he means it this time.

chris: hell yeah i do

chris: get ur ass out here

she looks at her friends, that were still yapping about something, that she couldn't care less about right now. she needed to see him. he never said he missed her before.

y/n: then come pick me up, im sending u the address

chris: omw gorgeous

chris is already in his car, when she sends him the address. not being able to see her for over two weeks, made him think. A lot. he has been her drug dealer for over a year now, there was tension between them since the beginning, so it didnt take them long to finally fuck at some party a few months ago. and since then, it's happening every now and then, usually they meet to smoke together, then they end up all over each other.

after a few minutes, he parks the car in front of the pizzeria, finally seeing her. she made a stupid excuse for her friends to leave, not being able to hide her excitement, so they just could assume what was going on.

chris gets out of the car, looking her up and down, licking his lips as she was only wearing a black crop top and baggy camo pants. he personally loved those, especially on her.

he opens the door for her, a smirk playing on his lips. "get in."

she tried her hardest to act casual, but just seeing him after a while, in all black outfit, was enough to make her dizzy. and she could swear he got a haircut. his hair was so much shorter, and she loved it.

she smiles, keeping the eye contact while getting inside the car. he closes the door, his eyes roaming all over her body as she walked towards him. he snaps back to reality, getting to the other side and climbing back into the drivers seat. he was feeling so many things that he couldn't express.

"missed me so bad, you couldn't wait an hour, huh?" she speaks up, putting on the seatbelt and looking over at him, while he starts the car.

she notices the way he looks her up and down, his eyes stopping at her exposed skin a little too long.

"i've missed my favorite customer." he smirks, going back to the eye contact.

"yeah, your favorite customer... right." she says sarcastically, trying her hardest to keep her cool and not to blush under his stare.

he grins before replying, focused on keeping his hands on the wheel instead of her body. it was getting harder with every second. "yeah, the one i always gotta give free stuff to."

"oh, dont act like i force you to do this..." she scoffs, still looking at him. "you know i always want to pay you."

"i know y'do... doesn't mean i will stop givin' it to you for free though."

"see, and that's crazy."

chris rolls his eyes, loving and hating at the same time, how she always had to talk back to him. he's driving, planning to go to her house, but the way she's looking right now, and especially her attitude, is making him crazy. he feels his dick getting harder with every second.

"whatever, ma. i know you secretly like it."

"yeah, sure." she mumbles with sarcastic tone, her eyes still watching him. seeing him driving was one of her favorite things in the world, he always looked so good. she appreciates, that he gives her stuff for free or cuts down her prices, but dealing was his job, he was making money out of it, so she always felt bad when he didnt want her cash. "what made you busy for so long? thought the cops caught or some shit"

chris bites his lip, his eyes glancing over to her for a second, before focusing back on the road. he never felt so desperate like right now, just having her in his car like that...

once he hears her question, he snaps back to reality and smiles. "the cops? please, sweetheart, they can suck my dick."

chris changes his direction, spotting an empty parking lot and he drives there. "i was out of town, had to deal with some business... nothin' to worry about now." he explains, parking and turning off his car, and his stare travels to her, scanning her face and body. "you're so curious...."

she nods, now understanding why he wasn't texting her these past two weeks, she was a bit ashamed 'cause she honestly thought maybe he got bored of her, so she didn't text him either. she still got some weed until yesterday, so she also had no reason to.

"why would you stop here?" she asks, looking at him with a little frown, but once she sees his smirk, the realization hits her. the excitement filling her body, the tension between them so noticeable, it makes her shiver.

he stares at her for a moment, adjusting his pants and then suddenly he unbuckles his seatbelt, sitting back in his seat so there was more space now.

"c'mere."

her eyes travels down on his lap, seeing the noticeable big bulge even through his jeans. she blushes slightly, looking back at him, the smirk still playing on his lips and it makes her weak in her knees.

"chris..." he cuts her off by reaching over and grabbing her chin, tilting her face closer to his.

"y'gonna do what i said, or keep talking back?"

she immediately unbuckles her seatbelt, moving over the center console and she gets into his lap, straddling him. she wasn't gonna act like she didn't miss him too, because, goddamn, she did. she presses herself onto his hard dick, watching him closely, and seeing how desperate and frustrated he was right now. It made her feel a little bit of a power, that she decided to take advantage of.

"now, was that so hard, ma?" he smirks even more, trying to hide his growing need for her, but his hands moves to grip onto her thighs. he felt the urge to touch her all over.

"you know, fifteen more minutes and we would be at my place-"

"you really think, i would wait fifteen fucking minutes, when i havent seen you for two weeks, and you look like that?" he loves the way she looks at him, with such admiration. she was so pretty in his eyes, he never felt this type of desperation for anyone ever before.

"and who's fault is that?" his hands grips her tighter and puts her closer in on his lap, making a little bit of friction, that he so desperately needs. his fingers digging into her skin, while he stares into her eyes.

"shut up for once, yeah?"

"make me." she smirks, challenging him. he doesn't have to hear it twice, loving the attitude she's giving him right now. his hand moves up from her thigh to the back of her neck, pulling her face closer and he kisses her roughly, grabbing her ass with his other hand as he does.

she smiles against his lips, immediately kissing him back with the same intensity, and she grinds down against his clothed dick, feeling her own need growing with every second. she missed the way he kissed her, she missed his lips, his hands all over her, his body against hers. she missed him and she hated to admit that.

she slides her tongue into his mouth, he bites her lip in response and lets her lead the kiss. moving up his hips to feel her more and not being able to hold back, he groans against her lips. he never felt so needy before. he pulls away for a moment to speak, and starts trailing kisses down her neck, squeezing her ass, before his hand moves up, caressing the skin on her exposed stomach.

"god, i hate that i missed you so much."

it slips from his mouth, he doesn't think much about it as he sucks on her skin, but for her it meant everything. she tilts back her head, giving him more space and she grinds against his lap some more, running her hand through his brown hair. he lets out a growl as she grinds down on him, making him even harder and he bucks his hips up again. lifting up his head from her neck his stare finds hers, the noticeable lust in his eyes made her bite her lip to hold back a moan. the smirk coming back to his face once he notices her flushed cheeks.

"what 'bout you, huh, ma? missed me too?"

she closes her eyes, their face so close to each other, it makes their lips brush when she replies him back.

"yeah... i did"

he grins, his hands playing with the waistband of her pants. that's all he needed to know, that she missed him as much as he missed her. even though they both were aware, they should'nt.

"how much, hm?" he unzips her pants, she lifts herself up, gripping his shoulders to balance herself and helps him take them off. then she straddles him again, trying to hold back her smile, but not being able to.

"want me to show you?"

he groans after her words, feeling her wet panties pressing against his hard dick and he bucks up his hips again, being so desperate, that he was ready to beg her. he starts marking her neck again, his hand traveling between her legs, massaging her clit through her underwear. her breath hitches in her throat, she lets out a little whine and grips his hair slightly.

"so wet already... shiiiitttt... all this f'me, huh?" he says against her skin, bitting on it slightly and making her moan. he adds more pressure, circling over her clit. "lift this shit up."

his tone demanding, he wasn't asking. she lifts up her top, revealing her breasts. he looks at her now, his eyes going back and forth between her tits, and her face. "fuck... not wearing a bra? fuckin' slut..."

he licks her hard nipple, then starting sucking on it. her hand tightens in his hair, tilting her head back and she lets out more whimpers. she was supposed to be the one in control this time, she craved it and saw how needy he is, but the way he's touching her, makes her losing her mind. he then pulls her panties to the side, running his fingers through her wet folds and suddenly putting one inside her. not even giving her any time, he just starts pumping in and out, adding another finger after a moment, now stretching her out. he pulls away from her nipple, looking at her face.

"c-chris..." she moans quietly, trying her hardest to keep the eye contact, but struggles to do so. her hands now traveling down his chest and unbuckling his belt.

"yeah, ma? y'like that?" he tries to keep his cool, still working his fingers inside her dripping pussy, curling them and making her whine in response. "look at you... so, fuckin' desperate on my lap. missed my fingers, huh? want some more?"

she desperately nods, squeezing around his fingers, but once he feels that, he pulls them out immediately putting them in his mouth to lick them clean. she whines, pouting her lips when he stops.

"show me how much you missed this dick then."

she bites her lip, unzipping his pants and with his help, she pulls them down to his knees, his boxers following after a second. chris leans his head back against the seat, gripping her hips as she gives him a few strokes before pulling her underwear to the side. she runs her thumb over his tip, collecting the precum and spreading it all over his cock, using it as a lubricant and then she lowers herself slowly on his cock, the movement making them both moan out loud with pleasure. she stays like this for a moment, needing to adjust after these past two weeks without him.

"fuckk...so tight...your pussy was made f'me.." he groans, tightening his grip on her hips and he watches her closely, as she finally starts moving on him. he’s holding himself back from moving up his hips and taking over, trying so hard not to thrust into her. he loves the feeling of her body against his and he’s missed it so much. he needed it, he needed her and he hated that. the feeling just kept growing, making the space in the car feel even smaller.

he pulls her back down into another kiss, this time more sloppy, continuing to move his tongue against hers, tasting her. she kisses him back, starting speeding up her pace and now bouncing on him harder. his dick hitting just all the right spots, making her moan loudly while chris tries to focus on the kiss and not to lose his composure. he wanted to take over, he always did, but the feeling of her riding him like that, has him gripping the seat. he grits his teeth, trying to keep himself together and he knows his patience wont last long. he looks up at her again, his eyes glued to her face.

"fuckkkk, ma.... takin' all of me so well... shit..." he hisses, when she speeds up even more. "so good.... s-so good f'me...."

she grips into his shoulders more, moaning loudly at his praises and she continues moving. chris is in complete ecstasy as she picks the pace up, a feeling like he hasn’t experienced before. there's just something about her on top and taking what she wants, that's got him feeling so many things at once.

“fuck.. just like that” one of his hands grab her ass, giving it a squeeze and then slapping it. "fuckin' slut... you like it? fucking in my car? takin' it just like a little bitch.... yeah? shitttt..."

he moans now not being able to hold back, and he starts thrusting into her. she gasps for air, her eyes closing shut as she tightens around him. "oh, wanna cum, huh? not yet darlin'...." he grips her hips more, his tip hitting her g-spot with every move.

"chris i-"

she cuts herself off with another moan, not being able to think straight. she digs her nails into the back of his neck, her head falling down on his shoulder and he immediately stops. her eyes snap open, she lifts up her head to look at him, a smirk playing on his lips.

"you better don't look away f'me, ma.... wanna see your pretty face y'know? and keep makin' those sexy little sounds...got it?"

she nods, but it's not enough from him as he speaks up again. "use your words baby, c'mon... you aint that fucked out of your mind yet, hm?"

"i got it, just... please..." she whines, moving her hips, wanting to bounce on him again, but he stops her. she pouts. "chrissss......"

"get to the backseat." he demands, after scanning her face for a while. he wanted to give her all the pleasure she deserves. he wasn't even thinking about himself, he couldn't care less about his release. he just needed to make her feel good, making sure no one else can do what he can.

she pulls away from him, now moving over the center console again, struggling a bit but she gets into the backseat. chris obviously smacks her ass as she does, what makes her squeak.

"chris!"

but he just smirks, pulling off his pants and boxers all the way down and throwing it on the passenger seat, so it wasn't in the way. he gets on the back himself, there was little space, but enough to get into his favorite position. chris puts his hand on her back, forcing her to get on her knees and hands on the seat, as he positions himself behind her. chris loves the way he can get her all desperate and begging, so he teases her now. he moves his tip along her folds, making her whine. then he slowly puts it in, but after a few seconds he pulls back again.

"chris...." she whines, knowing he's playing with her now.

"yeah, baby?"

she bites her lip, her face pressing into the seat and she lifts up her hips more. "stop teasing me, please...."

he grins even more, slapping her pussy with his dick and then he suddenly pulls his cock all the way in, making her gasp and scream out of pleasure. the new angle let him hit all of her sweet spots.

"whatever you want, princess." he starts thrusting into her with a very intense and fast pace, going as deep as he could. the car now filled up with her moans and the sounds of skin slapping against each other. he grips her hips tight, keeping her in place. he can feel her squeezing around his cock again, and he lets out a growl. "c'mon.... cum all over me...wanna see you while y'do..."

chris moves one of his hands, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back, having a good view on her face. her mouth wide open, letting out loud moans, her eyes rolling back.

"oh my god!" she cries out, gripping the edge of the seat like her life depended on it and she releases, the wet, squelching sound coming from her now louder. he groans, kissing her neck and whispering into her ear.

"you feel so good... cummin' like that f'me... such a good girl.."

she moans, squeezing around him again, the overstimulation now making her shiver as he keeps going with the crazy pace, not slowing down at all. he lets go of her hair, her head immediately falling onto the seat and he grips by her hips again, making sure she feels him as deep as he wants her to. he growls, being on the edge himself.

"i'm... close.." he mutters, throwing his head back. "gonna fill you up, yeah?"

she whines nodding desperately, but then he smacks her ass giving her a sign to answer verbally.

"shit! yes, fuck, yes chris, please!" she feels tears filling up her eyes from the pleasure, a few of them coming down her cheeks moment later. chris bites his lip, feeling her tightening around him. he moves one of his hands between her legs, now rubbing her clit, while still thrusting hard into her, but his movements getting sloppier. she cries out, her legs trembling and his dick twitches, finally cumming inside her, his warm sticky release filling her up and dripping out of her. he curses under his breath, digging his fingers into her skin, leaving bruises as he does. she feels him cumming, and the overstimulation from him lazily massaging her clit and still hitting her g-spot, makes her finish again. the pressure in her stomach now becoming too much, unable to hold back, she feels the liquid squirts out of her in waves.

his eyes snap open, looking down at her and he growls. he slows down until he eventually stops, after they both ride out their highs, this time not wanting to overstimulate her. looking at the mess she made, he can't help but feel a bit cocky about it.

"shit, ma.... squirtin' all over me, huh? is it how it is now?" he smirks, a little surprised that he made her do that but he couldn't be more proud. he pulls out of her, letting go of her hips and her body immediately falls onto the seat. she's breathing heavily, not being able to reply yet. "that's my fuckin' girl.."

he runs his fingers along her inner thigh, collecting her and his cum and he leans in a bit, covering over her. he looks at her fucked out expression and the smudged mascara on her cheeks. "look at me."

she opens her eyes, her mind blank, body shaking. he puts his fingers into her mouth, she immediately cleans them up, tasting both his and her release on her tongue, making sure she keeps the eye contact with him while she does that.

"you're so hot." he says now kissing the tears on her cheeks away. "took me so well..."

she smiles, seeing his flushed cheeks and messy hair sticking to his forehead. it was her favorite view.

"y'good, kid? don't go all mute on me now.."

"don't call me that...." she mumbles, trying to get her sarcastic attitude back, but she was absolutely spent right now. "i'm fine."

he just grins, gently patting her cheek before he pulls away. she slowly lifts herself up, trying to fight her trembling legs and she sits up now, facing him. not being able to do anything more yet, her glare moving to her legs and the seat she made mess on. she feels her cheeks growing hotter, now suddenly embarrassed and trying to ignore his stare. this never happened to her with him before and she didn't know what he thought about it.

"sorry about... the seats" she mumbles, grimacing.

he raises his eyebrows, now seeing her embarrassment and he doesn't understand why. it was a little surprising but he felt so proud. he already wanted to make her do it all over again. "you f'real? don't even say sorry, ever again."

she's still not so sure, blushing even more as he wipes her cheeks from the smudged mascara and then runs his hand through her hair, trying to fix it a little bit. he smiles softly. "gonna clean this up later, don't you worry 'bout that, okay?"

chris then reaches into the center console for the tissues, grabbing them and spreading her legs with his hands. she watches him closely seeing how he starts just gently cleaning her up. this simple movement makes her feel the heat rising from her cheeks down to her neck, so she just covers her face with her hands shyly. not really being able to understand why is she so embarrassed this time, he grabs her wrists, forcing her hands to move away from her face.

"y'gotta be kiddin' me. don't hide from me, ma." chris mutters. "not when you made such pretty mess in my car."

with a quiet sigh, she lets him take her hands off of her face. she chews on her bottom lip nervously while he goes back to cleaning her up, touching her slightly as she was made from some kind of glass. it was even cute, how he just made sure she was fine. it's not their first rough sex, but this one was definitely more intense and for some reason felt so... different. she had this strange feeling in her chest, just seeing him focused on wiping her legs and how he didn't seem to care about his covered in her release seats. once he's done, he sits beside her, wrapping his hand around her shoulder and pulling her close. she doesn't like the silence, even if before it was never awkward, this one was bothering her as she couldn't stop feeling unfamiliar emotions.

"i ran out, by the way." she suddenly blurts out, making him laugh. there was no way in hell this girl was real.

"yeah? good to know. gonna give y'some more later."

"im paying this time."

"oh, you've paid enough already." she immediately looks up at him, smacking his shoulder and he chuckles in response, pretending to be in pain. "woaaahh, bein' a little brat again, hm?"

"that's not funny, im giving you money." her tone shows no objection, he smirks and nods, knowing he won't take anything from her anyway. they sit like that for a moment, before he speaks up, knowing he will get another hit after that.

"soooo... round two?"

"christopher, i swear to god."

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a/n: oh my god this seems sooo long 😭 tell me what yall think, i feel like i kinda fucked up with the whole dealer vibe but lmk please! i honestly enjoyed writing that so who knows..

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