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#this led to an interesting take on these two together!!
sistertotheknowitall · 12 hours
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DCxDP Prompt
Because I couldn’t get Congratulations! It’s Triplets! By @rboooks out of my head.
Jason wouldn’t say he regret it. Sure it wasn’t what he planned nor was it what he would have wanted, but he didn’t regret it. They didn’t mean to become parents, it was a one night stand. He wondered if this was how Roy felt when Jade had Lian. Like the world had been flipped on its head. Like everything he thought he knew now seemed wrong.
Lian would like his daughter. From what Jason could tell he thought they’d be fast friends.
Christ. His daughter.
He watched as she ran through the front door, her mom following behind. She was talking a mile a minute, her hands flying around her face. Her mom threw her head back, laughing. God he wished he could hear it. Hear what all his daughter had to say. He wanted to be a real dad to her not just a father. Someone she could talk to and trust. However, as Jason continued to watch from the roof across the street, he knew that he could never get that close. This was as far as he could reach.
A crime lord, who was legally dead and had a kill count. He wasn’t cut out to be a dad. The two examples he had wouldn’t exactly be considered great role models.
Her mother had named her Ellie, short for Daniella after her late uncle Daniel or “Danny.” She was feisty and a little brash, his daughter. Jason would be lying if he said he didn’t feel some pride in knowing some of that was him. Although he could see the same stubbornness in Jazmine.
He thinks that’s what drew him to her. Standing in a bar on a side of town she definitely shouldn’t have been in, she had held her own against two men trying to drag her out. Jason went to step in when she had pulled a police grade taser out and had both men on their knees in pain before he moved two steps. He didn’t introduce himself that night (she was a little preoccupied with the police). However, he got the chance to a few months later and one thing led to another and they had slept together. He left with barely a goodbye and they never saw each other again. Jason was too preoccupied with his plans for Bruce and the clown to spend time thinking about one night.
As for her, he knew she was a student at Gotham U and figured she had also spent little time thinking about that night.
Imagine his surprise when he stumbled upon her again but with a child. His child.
He didn’t know how to really feel about it, about her, Ellie.
As much as he hates to admit it he spent the first week getting drunk and despairing at being a deadbeat. He eventually calmed down and reasoned that it wasn’t his fault nor Jazmine’s. He had given her a fake first name and they hadn’t exchanged last names. Even if she did want to tell him she was pregnant she had no way of finding him.
And he never thought he needed to be looking for them.
—-
Jazz could feel them being watched and did her best to act normal. She never gave away that she was aware of him. She didn’t want to frighten Ellie and she was still unsure of how to handle the situation. It has been weeks and he never once seemed interested in harming them. Yet.
He just watched. Not all the time- not every day, but at least once a week she could feel him staring from a roof, a window, the mouth of an ally. He followed them at night and watched for a bit after they returned home. In a way it felt like he was protecting them, but in what sense did this hulking figure have a right to guard them? It also begged the question; what was he protecting them from?
Jazz was near positive that she had never interacted with the mask figure nor any other that roamed Gotham. She did her best to avoid them, all of them.
It could be he was fixated on her as a single mother to a reckless little girl. If that was so, then she was going to have to be more cautious. She didn’t want to even give him a chance to think he could approach Ellie. Stalkers were never a good thing but she knew the GCPD would never take it seriously.
All he was doing was watching.
Jazz knew her daughter was smart beyond her five years of life, but she was still just a child. So while Jazz was certain that Ellie had no idea about their predicament, she knew Ellie could feel something was off. The young girl had started to look around more on their walks home, her head swiveling, looking for something she couldn’t explain. Jazz hated it. Her daughter should be skipping as she told Jazz about her day in pre-school, not gripping her mother’s pant leg, silent as she looked for the source of her unease.
For the life of her, Jazz did not know what the man could possibly want and while it pissed her off to no end it also frightened her. Of course it frightened her. She was a single mother in Gotham City with a stalker. Maybe she should summon Danny or send Ellie to her grandparents for a bit while she takes care of this.
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lionneee · 2 days
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Perfect Match
Final Part
English is not my first language, please be kind
Masterlist
Taglist
•Warnings: oral sex, fake relationship, talking of sexual themes, piv, smut.•
Modern!Aemond x Fem!Reader
Part One -> Part Two -> Part Three -> Part Four -> Part Five
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You didn’t know.
You would have swore he was just another guy with a perfect life, just good to fuck with.
You thought he was simply trying to rebel, to not follow the mass.
That’s why you chose him.
You never thought he could have been in the same situation as yours.
You leaned your head back to look at his face as he kept sleeping.
You fell asleep in his arms, his cock must have slipped out of you during the night.
It didn’t take long before he started to wake up too.
He slowly opened his eye, looking back at you.
He didn’t talk.
You just kept looking at each other.
It was strange, knowing you both share the same situation.
A family that wanted to be perfect, but was rotten from the inside. You remembered a few words of what his parents were yelling when you came back to his house, the same exact words you heard your own parents yell thousands of times.
When you were younger, you put on your headphones and listened to music at full volume, to muffle the fighting, but as you grew up, you just got used to it.
Aemond took a deep breath and pulled you back in his arms, close, tucking your head under his chin.
You tighterned your arms around his neck, breathing in his scent.
“I don’t want to go out.” You whispered, glancing at the closed door of his room.
“Mh.” You felt his head move, turning to look at the door as well. “We don’t have to.” He said.
You both knew that once past that door, everything would have gone back to how it was.
Fake.
Fake happy families, fake friendship, fake interests.
You felt like you were past that now.
You didn’t want everything to go back as it was.
No, not after how good you felt last night. Not after you finally felt something again.
You unconsciously tightened your arms around Aemond, closing your eyes.
“We can stay here.” You whispered, caressing his back, slipping your hand under his shirt. “We can stay here forever, never go out again.” You felt too good, too comfortable.
“I know. We could.” He slipped his hand in your hair, caressing slowly your head. “We could.” He repeated, as if he was seriously considering the option to hide from the world forever.
In that quiet moment, the world outside seemed so distant, so irrelevant. The tension in both of your lives had built up for years, but here, in this room, it all seemed to melt away. . 
You had chosen him because you thought you knew his type, just another boy looking to push boundaries, to escape boredom. But waking up in his arms now, you realized how wrong you'd been. He was broken just as much as you were, a mirror of your own suffering. Aemond, with all his calculated silence and aloof demeanor, was just as wounded as you.
For the first time, you felt like you weren’t alone in your pain. It wasn't just about what happened between you two last night; it was about the shared understanding of the façade you both wore daily. The world expected you to be perfect—to fit into the molds your families had constructed—but neither of you ever truly did. You both knew that the arguments, the silences, the tensions at home had shaped who you were had led you here, to this bed, to this moment.
Aemond's hand in your hair, his steady breath against your skin, felt like an anchor, holding you both in this fragile peace you’d created together. His fingers combed gently through your strands, and you could tell he was thinking, pondering what you’d said about staying there forever.
“I don’t want to go back,” you whispered again, more to yourself this time. There was a sense of desperation in your voice. You knew the world outside would expect you both to slip back into your roles—the obedient daughter, the dutiful son. But here, with him, you were free. 
“Do you want to stay here?” Aemond asked, but now his voice was softer, almost uncertain. You both knew the fantasy couldn’t last, but for now, it was a comfort. The illusion of safety, the idea that maybe, just maybe, you could escape the weight of your realities.
Your hand on his back felt his muscles tense slightly, as if he, too, was wrestling with the impossibility of it all. He sighed deeply, his chin resting on the top of your head as he held you close. In that shared silence, there was an understanding, a quiet pact. 
But for a little longer, you could pretend. You could hold onto this fleeting moment of peace, knowing that, even if the world outside was fake, what was happening between you now wasn’t. 
You always saw Aemond as a tool to let go. To feel yourself for a moment when you had sex, to stop pretending, but you were still alone.
Alone in your head, in your life, in your experiences.
Now there was someone else.
You leaned your head back again, looking up at him, and he moved as well to stare right back at you.
“I do.” You whispered. You didn’t know what those words did to Aemond, but his lips came down crushing on yours right after them, holding you by the back of your head as he tried to devour your mouth.
“Then I’ll keep you here.” He mumbled against your lips, moving to get on top of you, pressing you down on the bed with his body. “We’ll never go out again. We’ll stay here, and we’ll fuck all day.” He groaned as he wrapped his arms around your body, hugging you close. “I’ll keep you to myself –” He said as he looked down at you, moving his hand on your breast, taking it in his hand and squeezing it, kissing his way down to your other nipple, He was fanning, his breath hit your nipple where he sucked it, making it harden with the fresh feeling. You arched your back, you could feel his cockhardening against your thigh. You put your hand on the back of his head, keeping him close, spurring him to keep sucking your tits.
“Make love to me - “ You whimpered as he squeezed your breast a bit tighter. He raised from your chest, looking down at you as he sat back on his haunches. His eye moved all over your body, then back to your face. You could feel your face hot, probably even red, not from embarrassment because of your nudity, more like because of what you said, because it sounded so… cheesy.
You looked back at him, watching him, searching for any reaction, but his face was stoic. 
Until he moved his hand between his legs, pumping his cock a few times to make sure he was hard enough, then he leaned forward, pushing it slowly inside you, making you moan and lean your head back against his pillow. He didn’t rush it like all the others time, just seeking his pleasure and being done with it.
He kept eye contact as he placed his hand beside your head on the mattress, and he moved slowly, but firmly and deeply.
He knew what he was doing.
“Yeah –” He gasped as he glanced down at your bodies, how they were perfectly fitting before coming back to your face. “I’ll make love to you.“ He whispered as he moved down on his elbows to be closer to your face. 
There it was again. 
That warm feeling in your chest.
You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply, taking your time in his mouth, savoring the moment.
You wanted to hold on to that feeling, and never let it go.
You whined in his mouth as he slowly started to thrust harder, keeping his pace, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, under your neck.
He slowly kissed your cheek, then he trailed down to your neck, licking, nibbling at your skin as he groaned.
“W-why does it feel so good – “ He groaned with his voice strained as he nuzzled his face in your neck. You took a deep breath as you felt the sound of his voice doing things to you, making your stomach clench, making your heartbeat faster.
“I don’t know -” You whispered back as you caressed the back of your hair, his thrusts getting needier as he quickened the pace a bit. “But I don’t want it to go away.” You admitted, your words sending a shiver down his body, making him moan and raise his head to look at you.
“Me neither.” He mumbled as he thrusted faster, harder, his face contorting in pure pleasure.
“Oh, yes – Aem - “ You moaned as you felt your orgasm reaching you, your walls squeezing his cock inside you.
“I promise -” He panted. “We’re never fucking leaving this room.” He groaned as he slipped his hand between their bodies, searching for her clit and starting to rub it furiously.
“Please come -” He gasped. “I-I can’t –” He moaned as he spilled before even finishing his sentence, and seeing him so wrecked pushed you along with him.
You both panted as he fell on top of you, both your arms moving around the other, as if to make sure they were still there.
You knew that his promise was impossible to keep.
You had to get out at some point.
But you knew he was promising something else completely.
We’re in this together.
But for now, you guessed he indeed planned on not leaving his room any sooner.
Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee @chlmtfilms @m-riaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @malfoycassimalfoy
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doc-art · 1 day
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Part 4 of the D&D art/story summary!
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After yesterday's castle conquering, everyone got up and got ready to head back to the town to reconnect with the rest of the party.
While we were getting ready, our bard, Courrier, pointed out Loa's total lack of clothing, which she did not quite understand, and that Lloyd did not notice until it was pointed out.
There was also a running gag of our DM not appreciating how often we'd split the party. Left to right: Dolmir the dwarf cleric, Lloyd the human fighter, Courrier the human bard, and Zzrez the goblin rouge.
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Loa the minotaur left the party to head back to her home to spread word of her deeds, while we went back to Phandalin, the mining town. It was still in a bit of a rough state after the siege a few days prior, but held well. We reconnected with the other half of our party and had some fun with the dragon hatchlings.
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Once we were together, we all set out to our final objective. One tricky part was that we recruited a doppelganger from earlier to assist us, and he took the form of our agent member--Sildar, so we had to sneak Sildar out so no one would notice the clone.
The way that Rebecca and Sildar decided to smuggle him out was a very interesting approach.
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A harness under her outfit, the perfect cover. It's cover was foiled when we heard odd noises coming from her, and Zzrez found a loose strap and tugged on it, causing our hidden agent to become known.
After some journeying out of the town, we found the mystical cave we had been searching for the whole campaign. Inside we faced an assortment of creatures and beings, along with being magically antagonized from afar by a beholder deep in the cave.
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It was an ordeal.
After we made progress in the cave, we doubled back to rest up. When we came back, there was a large sea of unusual goop blocking our way back in. However, back at the castle we raided to save our boss, our goblin rouge picked up (what we thought was a bag of holding, but was actually a Bag of Devouring!) and used it to clear the way, much to the surprise of the party members that did not know of its existence in her possession.
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We resumed our descent into the cave and met up with a band of minotaurs led by Lloyd's lover, Loa, who were there on a mission to kill the person responsible for the problems we had been facing.
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We found them in the middle of a fight against some flaming, flying skulls.
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It was a good fight, and Rebecca, who Lloyd failed to notify properly about his minotaur girlfriend (Loa), was surprised to meet her and her gang. The confusion was quickly resolved, however!
Once everything was cleared up, we continued forward together and made our way to the source of the magical horrors of the cave--a beholder. On the way, a subordinate to Loa questioned her leadership and charged ahead, taking with them two other minotaurs and leaving her with us.
The fight against the beholder was a difficult one, but we came out on top. The other minotaurs, through bard trickery and high aggro, fought each other, with the pale-minotaur (the guy going against Loa) being defeated by her and sent into the fires of the magical forge we were at.
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Dolmir also considered the plan of throwing a bag of poisonous mushrooms into the mouth of the beholder, but was unable to since it quickly fell to the assault of multiple minotaurs and our whole party. He also took an axe to the shoulder from the mutinous minotaur, and our bard and goblin shared a moment.
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After the fight, Lloyd and Dolmir got an armor upgrade.
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purple-dreams9 · 20 hours
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If Thea was Theo, a controversial opinion
I want to preface this post by stating that this is not meant to change anyone's mind or opinion. I am not here to tell you to like a character or to ship a certain ship. You are free to hate Thea, write her off your fics, ignore her existence, and ship Kevin with the milkman if you so desire. This is also not an essay. Instead, think of it as the thought dump of someone munching over it for days.
This all started with a conversation about Thea with a couple people on a Discord server. I've been mostly neutral about Thea, not understanding the overall hate but not knowing much about her either. It led me to read Nora's most recent post about Thea, the replies and the "Why do you not like Thea?" poll, and I've seen plenty of Tweets about her, too.
In general, I noticed one main element when people explain their stance: it is not because Thea is a woman and people want to ship Kevin with male characters. The real reason(s), branched in different directions: the age gap, the lack of building of her character, how little she shows up/how little we know about her/the feeling of her being shoo-ed in out of nowhere as Kevin's love interest, and her attitude (inc. her lack for communication with Kevin after he left the Nest, her comment to Jean in TSC, etc.)
I have been in many fandoms for over a decade, some with more prominent mlm ships, and to be honest, none of those reasons seemed to truly justify the dislike of Thea to the degree she is disliked in the fandom as a whole, especially as the romantic interest of a main character. It seemed to me that most of it is rooted in the desire for Kevin NOT to be straight, but to be gay and be with a guy (or bi, but I see more people using "gay" for Kevin. And some prefer Aro/Ace Kevin, but these fans are a bit more quiet and subdued with their headcanon.) See, even taking Thea out of the equation, there are no popular mlw ships for Kevin with characters from canon, and even in fanon ships the counterparts are mostly (if not all) men.
That got me thinking: "What if Thea was Theo? How would that change how fans interact with this character, even if her personality was the same? What about the relationship with Kevin? Would fans approach the ship differently if he had had Theo as a boyfriend instead of Thea as a girlfriend?"
Of course, it is all hypothetical. For one, a big part of her character is that she is a woman of color (note that I am not black, so I am in no position to talk about how her race plays out with her character) in a predominately male and white team (violent cult) that had to fight her way to the top. It wouldn't quite have the same weight or the same background if she was a male. For two, I am aware it would bring another discourse to the table, that of the "predatory gay men stereotype" (even though there was nothing predatory or "grooming" in their relationship, but that conversation is not for this post.) I am sure plenty of fans would still hate the Kevin/Theo ship, and Theo himself.
Still, I allowed myself to picture it. I read, once, that women used to ship male characters together because female characters were underdeveloped and were not interesting. I wondered if this applies to fandom as well, how certain fandoms prefer to develop and grow male characters.
Things like "lack of canon information about Theo" would not be an issue. Fans are very good at filling in the blanks and building a character from the few spare parts given by the source. This also applies to "there is almost no interaction with Kevin" because let's be honest here, guys, ships are sometimes made from nothing. Rarepairs exist, and even ships like pre-TSC Jerejean can explode in popularity.
With how big of a part Kevin plays in the books and how big his shipping fandom is, if Theo was a thing, I truly believe we would have seen him bloom in fanon spaces. He would have given space and opportunity to grow, change and develop both as a character and in his relationship with Kevin.
The "forbidden relationship" trope and the possibility for angst would have fans foaming, fics working around Theo's past and how he had to fight his way to the top would be written, AUs where he leaves the beliefs of the cult behind and reunites with Kevin would also exist. We would see stories about how his and Kevin's love story played out before and after Kevin left the Nest (at least one primarily focused on the notes they used to pass each other in secret). His mean comments and bitchiness would be ignored, played down, understood, forgiven, or found charming (like Andrew's throughout the series, or even Abby's in TSC.) In a few words, he would be more present and less disliked.
AFTG is a predominately queer fandom, and there is nothing wrong with wanting representation, but I also think it's necessary to use the same scale for female and male characters that are romantically or sexually involved with more popular ones. It's fine not to like Thea, but also to sit and think: would I asses a male character in the same way? How would my view of them change regarding their gender? Just food for thought, I guess.
Again, this is not a call to action of any sort. It is just me, rambling and putting my thoughts down. I can't see different realities so this is basically all fiction. I wanted to take it out of my brain, hear what others think and that's it. Ship what makes you happy. Create what inspires you. Curate your experience. All that being said, Id love to hear your thoughts, but I wont debate anyone's opinion because that's truly, not what Im seeking.
This got longer than I intended so I'll end this here. If you made it, thanks! I hope you have a nice day.
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lynzishell · 10 hours
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The Sims is love. List 5 facts about a favorite sim couple of yours, and why you love them so much. Then pass this on to 5 others, whose sim couple(s) you also love. 💘💕 :D
Thank you thank you @sirianasims as well as @mdshh and @elderwisp for sending me this ask!! (I'm hoarding the other two in case I get time to do more, but also tagging you here in case I don't aksdljflkd) ❤️❤️
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I chose Phoenix and Dawn because I miss them dearly right now, but also...
💙TODAY IS THEIR ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY!!! I mean, in the story they got together in August like seven years ago, but this scene was posted one year ago today! I can't believe it! 🥹
💙My favorite thing about these two is how incredibly supportive they are of each other. My favorite example of this is in this scene where Phoenix takes Dawn to the bench where he used to talk to his mom. He said it was the best way he could think of to introduce them, and Dawn didn’t even hesitate, just jumped in and started talking as if his mom was really there, and I know it meant so much to him. The other would be this scene where Dawn expresses that she wants to leave her job and stay home with Aspen. Phoenix wasn’t fond of this idea. It puts a lot of pressure on him financially, and honestly, he would’ve loved to be the one to stay home with her. He probably could’ve plead his case to do so, but instead of pushing back he said, “how do we make this work?” and they figured it out.
💙They encourage each other to remain individuals. It’s difficult in this stage of life, between careers and marriage and parenting, to maintain a sense of self. One thing they always encourage each other to do is to pursue their own interests. In this scene we see Phoenix pushing Dawn to go have a self-care day to destress and indulge her interest in yoga and meditation. It’s been more difficult for Phoenix lately since his career is becoming more demanding, but he does still make time to run every morning before everyone wakes up.
💙They’re dreamers. One of the things they love most is talking about their plans and dreams for the future. Dawn has always been a very future-focused person. It’s a coping mechanism that keeps her distracted from her past, but it also allows her to maintain her optimistic nature, and it’s rubbed off on Phoenix.
💙They rarely fight. In most situations, they’re excellent at communicating and working through things. It’s rare they can’t find a middle ground. However, we recently saw a situation where Dawn let unresolved issues from her past lead her to break Phoenix’s trust, and that led to their biggest fight ever. When we last left them, they were doing okay, but I think it would be unrealistic to say that everything is suddenly fine now. There is some work to be done for Dawn to face her past and earn that trust back. More on that when we return to them in Part 5.  
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hendolish · 6 months
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think we need to have the tables turned a bit so how about a fic where Hendo is the one who first starts pining for Jack and he goes into a moral dilemma and keeps telling himself that Jack would never consider him cos he's "old" but he's actually wrong and finds that some time ago Jack started liking him as well. I don't really know how you'd end it so that's up to you. Lol I just feel like we have so many fics where Jack is the one who starts crushing first and barely any where Hendo starts it. Thank youuuu so much and the the WC Jude Captain fic was so adorable I loved it💗💗
jack grealish/jordan henderson - unspoken understandings ♡
The warm glow of the setting sun bathes the room in a soft, golden light as Jordan sits alone at the window, lost in thought. His mind swirls with conflicting emotions, a turbulent sea of longing and uncertainty.
For weeks now, he's found himself unable to shake the feeling that something is different between him and Jack. At first, he brushed it off as nothing more than a passing fancy, a fleeting attraction that would soon fade away. But as time went on, his feelings only grew stronger, until they became an ever-present ache in his chest.
He knows he shouldn't feel this way. After all, Jack is younger, more vibrant, and undoubtedly more attractive than he could ever hope to be. And yet, despite all logic and reason, Jordan finds himself drawn to him in a way he can't quite explain.
He wrestles with his conscience, telling himself that Jack could never feel the same way about him. He's too old, too set in his ways, too… ordinary. But deep down, he knows that's not true. There have been moments, fleeting glances and subtle touches, that hint at something more between them.
As he sits there, lost in his thoughts, Jordan can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there's a chance for them after all. And as the sun dips below the horizon, casting shadows across the room, he makes a decision. He's tired of denying himself happiness, tired of pretending that his feelings don't matter.
As Jordan approaches Jack, he clears his throat nervously, his heart pounding in his chest even though he's spent a countless number of hours around the younger.
"Hey, Jack," he starts, his voice gruff.
Jack looks up, a small smile quirking at the corner of his lips as he sees Jordan approaching. "Hey, Hendo," he replies, his tone easygoing.
Taking a deep breath, Jordan plunges ahead and grits his teeth through it, his words coming out in a grumble. "Listen, Jack, I need to get something off my chest. I've been… feeling stuff lately, and I know it's probably stupid, but I just couldn't keep it to myself anymore. I… I've been thinking about you more than I should, and I…"
Before Jordan can finish his rant, Jack interrupts him, holding up a hand to stop him mid-sentence before resting it on his arm. "Hendo," he says, his voice calm but firm, "I know."
Jordan's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he meets Jack's gaze with a mixture of confusion and relief. "You do?" he asks, his voice softer now.
Jack nods, his smile warm and genuine. "Yeah, I do," he says, his tone reassuring. "And it's fine."
Jordan lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding, a weight lifting off his shoulders. "Oh," he says simply, his mind struggling to catch up with what Jack just said.
Jack reaches out, giving Jordan's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Yeah," he says, his smile widening. "It's fine, Hendo." And as they share a knowing look, Jordan feels a sense of relief wash over him, knowing that he doesn't have to navigate these feelings alone anymore.
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shegetsburned · 2 months
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tw. age gap
✰ you swear there’s nothing going on between you and your co-star kento nanami to every fan or interviewer that dare ask the question. after many years of working together, there have been speculations of a secret relationship between the two of you and fans are dying to know the truth.
you swear there’s nothing between you and co-star!nanami who’s ten years older than you and has starred in many films as your love interest. your audience describe your chemistry as unmatched, on and off camera. you are the people’s favorite couple and, unfortunately, your actions never contradict the allegations.
you swear there’s nothing between you and co-star!nanami, but, every time you two appear in an interview together, there are hundreds of edits of the way kento looks at you. his attentive gaze makes you flutter. he always seems interested in what you’re saying and never cuts you off. even when he’s alone, he finds subjects and ways to mention your name and express how grateful he is to have the privilege of working with you.
you swear there’s nothing between you and co-star!nanami, but every time you feel overwhelmed and stressed on the carpet or any major events, he reaches for your hand, letting you hold onto his arm as you both walk side by side. only with a look, he understands and goes to your side, helping you calm down without a word. his presence is always enough to make you feel better.
you swear there’s nothing between you and co-star!nanami, but his first thought is always to find you. whether he’s on set or at premieres, he asks other actors if they’ve seen you. even when he’s being interviewed, he ends the conversation by jokingly telling the audience that he needs to find you or he won’t be able to go through the whole night.
you swear there’s nothing between you and co-star!nanami, but when it’s time to film your sex scenes, he’s always there to reassure you. the age gap did not help, at first, but his gentle touch and the way he led and handled you in a soft-spoken voice never failed to put your mind at ease and helped you to shoot almost effortlessly the most stunning performance of the movie.
“no one is present but you and me, sweetheart. take your time, i’ll help you get into it.”
you swear there’s nothing between you and co-star!nanami, but when he won his first award, he firstly thanked you and went on and on about how wonderful of an actress you were and how formidable it was to work on this masterpiece with you. the camera zoomed on your flustered face as you exchanged adoring looks with the man on stage.
but, no— you swear there’s nothing between you and kento. you swear your fans are not onto something and it’s only their imaginations running wild. but, between two scenes, when you can’t help but stare at the perfectly sculpted man who’s standing two feet away from you, who’s so well-spoken, compassionate, courteous and kindhearted, god, you really wish something was going on, between you and your co-star kento nanami.
© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.
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seonghwaddict · 6 months
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save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi
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in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.
best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!
listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis
masterlist.
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it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.
you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.
“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”
based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.
“can i admit something?”
he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.
you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.
“i’ve never done that before.”
his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”
“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”
“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”
furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.
“i can… teach you, if you want?”
you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.
“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”
he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”
you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.
you could already hear him giggling at the sight.
groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.
deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.
the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.
“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.
once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.
“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”
you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”
“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.
“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”
“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”
you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.
“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”
“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”
“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.
you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.
“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”
“r-really?”
mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.
“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”
you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.
“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”
“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”
his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.
he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.
you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.
all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.
“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.
eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.
with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.
“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”
he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.
he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.
“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.
after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.
“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”
he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.
he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”
you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.
it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.
he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.
“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”
you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.
he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.
the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.
when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.
when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.
“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”
he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.
he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.
the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.
the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.
“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”
you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.
you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.
your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.
still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.
your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.
his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.
you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.
your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.
“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”
his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.
the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”
you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.
it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.
after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.
“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”
“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.
this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.
“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
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imagine logan seeing you again
logan x reader
warning: some deadpool x wolverine spoilers. this takes place after the movie. under 1k words.
part 2
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The apartment was packed jammed with friends and some foes of Wade Wilson. There might have been music playing in the background, but Logan couldn’t tell when his eyes locked with the figure walking through the front door. His heart dropped, he felt sick to his stomach as his eyes fluttered. It had to be a dream but then he quickly came to his senses.
This wasn’t his universe, his world. He was somewhere entirely new. He caught his breath as Wade shouted out an exclamation of joy. Logan watched as he drew up from his seat to greet you with an overzealous hug, pulling you toward the group at the table.  Wade held you rough by the shoulders and grinned. “Look who decided to come out of retirement, conveniently after we,” he pointed to Logan then himself. “Saved the fucking world. Avengers, who? Bunch of assholes, if you ask me.”
“You sound like a man scorn, Wade,” you teased, offering a wave of a hand to your friends. The idiot next to you was right, the whole superhero thing had been a thing of the past. You have been a regular civilian for a few years now and have been loving a more relaxed existence – not being threatened daily was like, nice. “Don’t worry, you’ll see all the details in the movie. Have you meant my little angry beaver, the Wolverine?”
Your head jerked to where the older gentlemen was sitting, and you grinned. “I haven’t had the pleasure. I never met this world’s Logan – we ran in different circles. It’s nice to meet you.”
His heart relaxed and he confidently held out a hand, ignoring the interested glance from Laura. “Nice to meet you.”
“Take a seat next to Logan,” Wade urged, winking over to his new hesitant partner. “I’m sure he can fill you in on all the fun we’ve had together. Tell her about the sex ramp we had in the car that one time.”
“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Logan cursed, telling you to ignore him.
“I usually do,” you laughed, thanking Vanessa for the beer she slid over from her side of the table. Popping it open, you relaxed and asked Logan how this place was treating him. “Must be weird, coming here. It’s like your world, right? Just slightly different?”
“Something like that.”
“Did we know each other back there?”
Your question seemed so invasive and frank – it almost made Logan smile because some people never changed, no matter what universe. Back where he came from, you were such a firecracker little shit. He had his hands full dealing with your bullshit. You were always running towards danger with little regard for your own safety because you had him. He had always been at your side, or at least, trying to catch up but he had always been there for you.
Logan had loved you and you had loved him.
Two reckless mutants.
Then you died and that sent him straight down a barrel of alcohol and indifference, to everyone and everything in his world. Which led to his greatest shame of all, allowing his family to be murdered because he was too busy drinking his sorrows away. He had long forgotten what it felt like to see you smile or hear you laugh, to feel your fingertips on his skin. The weight of your head on his chest as you slept, he never could replicate that feeling and yet, here you were.
A different version of you but God, the same.
“We were friends, really good friends.”
The hint of sadness in his voice was enough for you to understand and maybe not truly, but something had happened. That much was evident and while it might have been silly, you wanted nothing more than to comfort this man next to you. The room seemed to fall quiet, but no one was paying attention, except the girl next to Logan. Your eyes met hers, but she just smiled and looked away. Logan’s eyes were focused on the beer in his hands, but his eyes jerked up when a gentle hand touched the top of his. Your skin ablaze his and it felt wrong to feel like he had once when he didn’t even know you. Not this version of you, a woman he knew nothing about. It didn’t feel right but he wanted nothing more to allow this to go on. To see who you were in this world.
Did he deserve that? After everything that happened.
“Were? I won’t pry but it seems like life has given you a second chance, Logan.” You smiled softly and removed your hand from his, lifting your beer can to him. “You guys saved this world; a second chance is the least the universe can give you. Why not take it?”
Logan chuckled lowly. “The version of you I knew also had a deficiency in reasoning.”
A hard smack landed on his chest, and he laughed, which made you laugh. “Yeah, well, at least I don’t look like that idiot.”
Looking over to where you pointed to Wade, who had decided to show off his hair piece, Logan smirked. “Yeah, that’s fucking terrible.”
The two of you smiled at each other and something clicked in that moment, leaving the both of you quiet until you broke the tension. “To not looking like Wade Wilson.”
Logan clicked his beer against yours and felt a settling in his heart. Maybe he did deserve a second chance, at least, he could start toward earning that second chance. “Amen to that.”
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moonsgemini · 6 days
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cherry wine - firefighter!rafe
* ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ₊˚ ⋅
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summary: who knew career day would involve a hot sexy mustached firefighter wanting to take you on a date.
warnings: teacher!reader x firefighter!rafe, mutual pining, fluff, a little self doubt, lots of flirting, sexual innuendos, talk of sex but no smut
an: that pic is how I picture firefighter!rafe, I don’t think I need to elaborate any more. title will make more sense in the second part, hope you all enjoy!! & yes this will be a part 2 of the date hehehe. I did not proof read this so my bad
masterlist - part two
* ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ₊˚ ⋅
This day could not end sooner. I had been the most chaotic day trying to consistently wrangle a bunch of nine year olds. It was the third grade’s career day at the school you taught at.
The day has been filled with moving from station to station and learning about new careers. Some were a little more interesting than others. It was hard to get the kids to leave the lizard wrangler but they didn’t care much for the optometrist.
Some of the lovely volunteers were kind enough to provide treats for the kids which only made their energy sky rocket. It was your first year teaching and even though you felt confident in your abilities to handle the kids you still tripped up a bit. A kid scraped his knee running from the hair stylist to the park ranger. You were a bit busy untangling a brush out another students hair to tell him not to run. It had been a lot.
Now it was nearing closer to the bell ringing and your weekend starting. You were definitely going to need a drink after today. Career day led up to the fire department coming and showing the kids every tool, button, and switch on their trucks. It would give you and your fellow teachers some time to relax as they all sat around the parking lot waiting for them to arrive.
“You survive today?” Martha asked as she stood next to you. The two of you started at this school together, both being first time teachers. That alone strengthened the immediate bond you had with the curly haired woman.
You let out a tired laugh, “Barely, you?”
She nodded, “Barely.”
You looked around briefly to make sure students weren’t listening to you two, “Winnie’s tonight?”
She grinned happily, “Thought you’d never ask. I could use a drink or ten.”
“Agreed.” You nodded.
That’s when you all spotted the two trucks approaching. The kids started to cheer and scream as they honked.
Martha leaned in to murmur, “At least we get to end the day with hot men with mustaches.”
That’s when it hit you. You hadn’t even thought about that all day. Now your hair was a mess and your light makeup all practically gone.
“I didn’t even think about that. I look like a mess,” You muttered.
“Oh please you look good. Even after wrangling twenty five children all day.”
You nudged her with a grin. The trucks parked in front of the students and the firefighters began filing out. The principal stood in front introducing them and what they were going to do.
Martha was right. Hot fireman indeed. There were six guys and they all began introducing themselves. You tried your hardest to pay attention to each one and watch your kids, but it was hard when one particular firefighter stood out.
He looked younger than the rest with his bleached hair and untrimmed mustache. His biceps bulged in his navy tee shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest. He looked so big and broad you wanted to melt. His eyes scanned the crowd as the guy next to him began introducing himself. That’s when his eyes passed you and did a double take. At least that’s what you hoped that was. He made eye contact with you and a small smirk began forming on his lips. Not looking away as your face began to heat up from his stare.
You looked away briefly as your nerves bubbled. When you looked back he was still looking at you and that smirk had gotten wider. Even when it was his turn to introduce himself he didn’t look away.
“Hi everyone I’m Rafe, I’ve been a firefighter for three years now. I also help train the new fire dogs to be able to help us out when we need them,” He finished giving the crowd a big smile. He finally looked away from you as he rubbed his mustache.
-
The presentation was supposed to be and hour but it somehow felt like five minutes. Probably because you couldn’t look away from someone in particular. He was just so handsome. The way his back muscles tightened and arms bulged as he picked things up had you feeling butterflies in places you didn’t know were possible.
This was not like you to get so dumbstruck by a man. You should know better that attractive fireman should not be trusted. But damn was he good to look at.
Rafe was grateful that he had decided to sign up to volunteer for career day at the schools. He liked seeing how excited kids got at their job so he was doing it solely for that. He didn’t expect to lay eyes on the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. At first he thought the teachers were all going to be his mom’s age older, but nope. He had been very wrong.
As him and the guys went through their presentation he couldn’t help but glance over at her any chance he got.
Even the mom’s who arrived early to get a glimpse of them weren’t enough to distract him. Even after first setting his eyes on her he knew he was going to do everything in his power to talk to her.
-
The firefighters stayed until all the kids had been picked up so they didn’t get stuck in the after school traffic. Rafe was thankful they didn’t get a call either or else he would have missed his chance. He looked over to where you were waving goodbye to your last student of the day and saw his open window.
He pat Javier on the back leaving him to wind up the hose himself, “Be right back.”
He stood up with a furrowed brow, “Of course Cameron.” He muttered as he said the blonde stride over to the pretty teacher.
You were texting Martha as you began walking to your class to see if she was already at Winnies. She had gotten out earlier as all her students were picked up already. You didn’t notice the broad man that approached you.
“Hi, can I walk you back to your class?” You looked up slightly startled.
Were you hallucinating because of the heat? Why was this big tall handsome stranger talking to you? You looked around to see if he was talking to someone else.
“Me?” You pointed at yourself with a questioning look.
His smirk widened, “Yeah, it’s really dangerous out here to be walking alone.” He teased.
You laughed, “Right um yeah sure.”
“Lead the way,” He said as he put his hands in his pockets.
“Your guys presentation was really good, the kids loved it. I already know they’re not going to shut up about it next week,” You laughed brushing hair behind your ear. You felt like a teenager again with a crush.
He smiled, “Thanks. Hopefully inspired some future firefighters. I’ve been doing it for a couple years now, is this your first year teaching?”
You were surprised he even thought about that, “Yeah actually it is.”
“I knew I’d remember that face if I’d seen you before,” Rafe wasn’t one to hold back with his flirting. When he knew what he wanted he would do anything in his power to get it. His career choice definitely helps him out a bit.
You coughed a surprised laugh, “Oh I- uh this is me,” you stuttered out as you got to your classroom. You weren’t used to men being so forward. They usually danced around compliments like they wanted you to work for it before earning one.
He opened the door for you, “I’m Rafe by the way,” He held his big hand out for you to shake. He took your much smaller hand in his as you told him your name. The heat of having his attention never leaving your cheeks.
“Are you doing anything tonight? I’d love to see you outside of work,” He leaned against the door casually. As he folded his arms over his chest they looked even bigger. You’re surprised there’s no drool dripping down your chin.
“No uh well yes I am, I’m meeting my friend Martha. She was standing next to me during the assembly. We’re going to Winnie’s if you’d like to join. Or not it’s fine if you don’t and you changed your mind or something,” You cleared your throat as you finished rambling.
That smirk turning into a wide grin, “I’ll see you there. Maybe I’ll bring one of the guys with me.”
She nodded with a smile, “That’d be great, I’m sure Martha would appreciate that.”
“I’ll see you then,” He winked subtly and walked back out. That smug grin still on his face.
-
“You are the bestest friend I’ve ever had!” Martha exclaimed as you finished telling her about your conversation with the hot firefighter.
You laughed, “I didn’t even do anything, god he’s so hot I hope I don’t embarrass myself.” You looked back at the entrance to the bar to see if he was here yet.
“You won’t. He probably loves the whole cute young elementary teacher thing,” Marth said as she took a sip of her cocktail.
“I don’t wanna be that though. I want to be a hot sexy woman,” You sighed dramatically.
When you got to winnies you spent about 10 minutes in your car fixing your smudged makeup and messy hair. You really wished career day didn’t put you through the ringer. You even changed into a random top that was in the backseat because the tee shirt you were wearing wasn’t doing you justice.
It had been almost an hour and they still hadn’t shown up. You had begun to feel disappointed that maybe he was just all talk. Maybe he did that to every new teacher at the schools he went to. But to save yourself the self pity you thought maybe he got a call and had to work. That was the most reasonable explanation. At least that’s what you told yourself.
“They probably got busy. Saving lives or something,” Martha waved off as she finished her second drink. You were also currently on your second and your feet were feeling fuzzy so you were cutting yourself off. You’d probably end up going home after the buzz wore off.
You tried not to show how disappointment flowed through you, “Yeah probably. Guess it was too go-“ you cut yourself off as you saw the door open and a head of bleach blonde hair came through. Your eyes widened and look away quickly.
“Ohmygod he’s here,” you mumbled to Martha. He hasn’t seen you yet.
She smiled, “Is the friend hot?”
You looked over and that’s when you met his eye. Rafe was already looking at you. He smirked and began walking over with a guy to a similar build as him walked behind him.
“Yes and they’re coming,” You said quickly as you cleared your throat.
“Hello ladies,” Rafe smirked as he approached.
You smiled softly, “Hey,”
Rafe thought you were pretty before but now in this setting you looked unreal. He was so glad he signed up for career day.
“This is Josh,” He nodded towards the brunette next to him.
You smiled politely at him, “Hi Josh. I’m y/n and this is Martha,” You looked over at her, “Martha, Rafe.”
They greeted each other as the guys sat down. Having Rafe so close to you was making you a bit dizzy. The alcohol wasn’t helping that either.
“What are you drinking?” Rafe asked you nodding towards your drink.
“Oh I was having gin and pineapple juice but I think I’m done for the night,” You admitted sheepishly.
He smiled teasingly, “Well wish I could have made it earlier to actually have that drink with you.”
You thought about it for a minute, “I guess I could have one more with you. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“You sure about that? You’re okay with just straight tequila shots?”
Your eyes widened muttering, “Geez maybe you will be drinking alone.”
He laughed, “In that case I guess we’ll just have a beer?” He said more as a question wanting to make sure that was okay with you.
You pretended to think for a minute humming, “Hmmm fine with me. Except no IPA’s,” you said making a face
“Yes ma’am,” He nodded getting up from the high table.
Across from you Josh was getting Martha’s drink order and you could already tell he liked her. The way he leaned in as if he couldn’t hear her despite the bar not being loud yet. You looked over at the bar where Rafe stood waiting for a bartender. He looked so good leaning over the bar. The muscles of his back flexing under the navy shirt. You couldn’t be more grateful for career day.
-
Rafe was oh so screwed. He was liking this third grade teacher a little too much. He had never felt so attracted to someone. Not just physically. He loved how animated you were when you talked, always using your hands. The passion in your eyes when you spoke about your class was admirable.
It was a done deal that you weren’t going to just be a hook up. No way would Rafe think about letting you out of his grasp. You were so soft and sweet, he can already imagine just how sweet you taste.
He knew it wasn’t one sided either. He saw the way you watched him as he told childhood stories and how he became a firefighter. You didn’t look at him like some hero the way most women did but you looked at him like you were proud of him. It made this weird feeling in his chest bloom. But he loved that look in your eye.
Whatever dance you two had been playing the last hour was starting to wear him thin. He wanted to touch you. Not even in a sexual way but he wanted to tuck that piece of hair behind your ear or give your thigh a reassuring squeeze every time you thought you were rambling. Rafe wanted to hear you go on and on about everything.
Throughout the night your chairs had slowly started to scoot closer to each other. Then your arms started brushing each other. Even the small contact set his skin on fire. The need in his bones growing.
You would dare to move a muscle once your skin touched he was so warm and as you looked over his bicep was just beghing to be bitten. The alcohol was helping your brain wander to that place you only visited at night alone in your bed.
As was telling a story about his vacation in Italy your eyes couldn’t help but wander back over to those biceps that had you drooling when you first saw him. He had his arms crossed over the table. Muscles flexing as he picked up his beer bottle and took a sip. The way his neck moved as he swallowed had you clenching your thighs. You wondered what his skin would taste like. You also wanted to know what it’d feel like to be wrapped in those biceps as he held you up while pou-
“You good?” Rafe asked lowering his head to your gaze. A teasing smirk on his lips.
Your doe eyes looked up at him, “Uh huh.” Way to play it cool.
He chuckled, “What were you thinking about?” You hadn’t noticed that Martha and Josh had gotten up and walked over to the dart board across the bar. Now leaving the two of you alone. The bar had gotten more crowded now and
You shook your head fighting the heat creeping up your spine, “Nothing really.”
“Yeah?” He leaned in closer, “I bet we were thinking about the same thing.”
You swallowed hard trying to use as much of that liquid courage as possible, “Then tell me what you’re thinking and I’ll let you know if you’re right.”
He liked that playful look in your eye, “Well I was thinking about soft your thighs would feel on my cheeks.”
Your eyes widened. Maybe you really weren’t expecting him to be honest. But that truth had you fidget in your seat as that warm feeling in your stomach blossomed.
“I guess we were then,” You hum.
“Mhmm,” He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “And what should we do about that sweetheart?”
“I-I” And just like that you had lost your cool. This insanely attractive, funny, smart guy wanted to get into your pants. Hot guys with all those personality traits come once in a blue moon and you were fumbling.
He laughed raising a hand to your shoulder brushing your hair back. His fingertips grazing your exposed collarbone. The light touch making goosebumps rise on your skin. You wanted to lean into his touch but before you could he pulled away, “Let me take you out. Just you and me.”
“Really?” You were a bit dumbfounded. It’s not like you thought he was going to be a bad guy but a part of you had prepared for a one time hook up kind of guy. Which you didn’t mind at first because well it had been almost a year since anyone has met your needs. You weren’t going to turn down sex with a hot firefighter so you’re definitely not turning down a date with one. But you couldn’t help but be curious as to why.
He nodded, “Of course. You’re beautiful, sweet, funny, smart, passionate. I really could go on but I’ll save that for our date.”
You huffed out an amused laugh, “Okay yeah I’d love to go on a date. Assuming this doesn’t count?”
He shook his head with a frown, “I’d never do this for a first date, especially not for someone like you. I’ll treat you right y/n don’t you worry.”
That heat was back again, “You say this to all the women you meet at on career day?”
He smirked, “Just the ones I can’t stop thinking about. Which has only happened with you.”
His reassurances ignited something in you. The feeling of being wanted was something you hadn’t felt in a while and you really liked it. You really liked who was making you feel wanted.
“So how would you treat me Rafe?”
God. He loved the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. He wanted to hear you say it in so many scenarios. Specifically ones where you’re naked.
His knee bumped hers under the table, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six and show you exactly what I’d do.”
2K notes · View notes
luveline · 5 months
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Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll
ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k
Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand? 
But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.  
Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really. 
“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness. 
“I’m thinking.” 
“Aren’t you always?” 
“About you.”
“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.” 
“You’re truly humble.” 
His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again. 
Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap. 
“Is everything okay?” he asks. 
“Fine.” 
You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow. 
“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.” 
“I’m not traumatised.” 
“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.” 
He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important. 
Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen. 
You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?” 
He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.” 
“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.” 
“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed. 
“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.” 
“What did he say to you?” 
You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.” 
“Did he call you that?” 
“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice. 
“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.” 
“You’re flirting with me.” 
“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours. 
He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession. 
“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says. 
You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go. 
“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.” 
“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.” 
Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.” 
The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating. 
3K notes · View notes
arachine · 1 year
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yes, i'm ready (to fall in love)
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── ˚₊✩‧₊ genre: smut, fluff, mild angst
── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis: after reader is persuaded into putting herself back out there by long time friend, shoko, she successfully ends up scoring a date. unbeknownst to her, though, the gods have different plans—and one of them seems especially interested in her relationship with ex-husband, gojo satoru.
or in other words: a failed date results in a night of passion amongst former lovers.
── ˚₊✩‧₊ contents: 13.5k words, ex-husband!gojo + co-parent!gojo, slight dub-con (alcohol use), dumbification, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, unconventional form of contraception (pull-out method - don’t do this), pussy eating + one oc for the sake of plot
── ˚₊✩‧₊ note: i know this is really long and most people don’t have the attention span for it but PLEASE give it a chance! this is literally the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written and i’m really proud of it :(
songs to listen to for best reading experience: donny hathaway - i love you more than you’ll ever know barbara mason - i’m ready partynextdoor - showing you bryson tiller - been that way
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After you divorced your ex-husband, and decided to devote all of your time to being a mother, you never really considered getting back into the dating world. Not that you didn’t eventually want to settle down with someone new, but the dating world now was just so–different.
Different in the sense that meeting people organically was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like how it used to be in high school or college, and it really didn’t take that much effort then to get a man’s number by the end of your outing. 
When you were in your early twenties, a brush of your hand on a man’s arm would’ve worked. An ‘accidental’ bump into someone at a grocery store or cafe might’ve ended in a quick lay. Using these tactics today, though, might earn you some weird looks–have–earned you some weird looks. 
You’re on call with a friend from college when you begin recounting something embarrassing that happened to you recently. At first, the conversation started out about all of the professors you would’ve slept with (if given the chance), but then, one thing led to another, and she asked you something that made you wince: 
“‘How’s your dating life been since, you know, Satoru?’” 
There’s a heavy silence from your end, and she almost thinks you hung up. 
“I mean, if you want to share,” she splurts, attempting to approach this gently, “I know that after the divorce, I wasn’t there for you like you needed, but I’d like to make up for that–if you’d let me.”
Shoko’s always been like that. Blunt and charismatic, but gentle and zephyr-light in the way she cares for those closest to her. It’s a trait of hers that you admire, because not so many people would care to treat your heart with such fragility.
“No, it’s okay. You can ask, you know, it’s not this secret thing,” you start, sighing before continuing, “it happened, and it was a mutual decision.”
Shoko hums on the other side, “Well, I’m still sorry. I let us go without talking for far too long…”
“Well, I accept your apology, even if it’s unwarranted. Like I said, it was mutual and…there wasn’t really an intense grieving period for me? The only thing that hurt me is that you distanced yourself. I mean, the girls did miss their aunt Shoko…” you say, trying to make her feel bad but not too bad. 
“I know, I know, I’m a bad aunt,” she jests, then the tone shifts to something serious. “I think I was just scared because both of you were my best-friends. I didn’t want to ‘pick sides’, but I see now that it was a mutual decision, so I’m assuming you two are on good-terms?” 
Again, you pause, “I mean, yeah. Satoru will always be my best friend. We may not be together romantically but he’s such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t do this–all of this–alone.” After you say it, you feel a weight being lifted off of your chest that you didn’t know was even there. 
You think nobody would understand if you told them this. You think they’d question how a person could divorce someone who’s supposed to be their best-friend. And with the way you describe it, they’d probably think you were still in love with him. But Shoko’s different, she gets it. Which is why saying it to her came so easily. 
“He is a great father,” she chimes in, “but you two rushed into it so quickly, I don’t think either of you had time to discover yourselves after college.”
Although she can’t see it, you smile. Because she gets it. Even if time did place itself in between the two of you, she was there for most of it, when things were still touch-and-go. When things were fresh, and clumsy. 
“Exactly, that was our biggest gripe,” you admit, “We didn’t afford ourselves that time to grow, and I think that hindered our relationship. We weren’t husband and wife first, we were parents–and we were young, way too young.”
“You made it, though,” Shoko tries to brighten the mood, “you’re both amazing parents, and I know those beautiful girls that you created are lucky to have you.” 
The intimacy of the conversation sends your emotions into overdrive. You quickly realize how much you missed her, how much you yearned to talk to her. To reconnect on this level. 
A single tear cascades down your cheek, and you try not to sound like you’re crying when you say, “Ok, enough about that. You wanted to know about my shitty dating life, right?”
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It happened last week, the grocery store incident. You were out picking up a few things for dinner when you spotted a cute guy standing outside of the aisle a few rows from you. He was fit beyond measure, in looks and strength, and was wandering around aimlessly in pursuit of red pepper flakes. 
Coincidentally, you just happened to be in the seasoning aisle, and like the good samaritan you were, decided to personally hand-deliver it to him. 
You wince as you vividly recall the embarrassing ordeal that ensued immediately after. 
“Hey,” you peer from behind the aisle, with a bottle of red pepper flakes in tow. “I heard you mumbling about finding this, and you looked pretty lost, so I thought I’d pick ‘em out for you.” 
The man’s brows furrow briefly before his lips up-turn into a grateful smile, “Oh, cool, thank you so much!” As quickly as the conversation started, it ends even quicker. He gives you a final nod of endearment before he’s turning around on his heels to resume his shopping. 
“God, could he be any more dense? The men today really make you work for it, huh?” you mumble to yourself, pulling the bosom of your blouse down until a good amount of cleavage is on display. “Okay, alright. You got this, you got this. This always used to work, right? Yeah, men love boobs.”
Walking up to the man again, you try a different approach–a bolder approach. “Not to be a bother but I was wondering if I could-”
“Babe? Oh, there you are,” a new voice interjects. The owner of the voice emerges from around the corner and walks up to the man with a cart and a baby in tow. You’re stunned, to say the least. All you can do is stand there and blink in complete and utter dumbfoundment. As you remain in their presence, you take a moment to analyze the woman. She’s gorgeous, and toned. A real model-type broad, with feline-ish features that make so much sense paired with the man who appears to be her partner. 
Oh, you think, and apparently say aloud, too. That’s when the woman turns to you, finally acknowledging your much smaller, and much quieter presence. 
“Hi, can we help you?” she smiles, and it’s actually genuine. Toothy and perfect, and totally not jealous. You blink once, twice, before gathering your wits to answer her question. 
“Yeah, uh, no. I actually, uhm, was helping your h-husband. He was looking for red pepper flakes,” you mutter embarrassedly, and point to the bottle in his hand. Upon further observation, you notice that she isn’t exactly wearing a ring. You find this odd, especially because his not wearing a ring is what encouraged you to pursue him. Carefully, you prod. 
“If I may ask, how come neither of you are wearing rings?” The couple gives each other a look, one that makes you feel like the odd man out. A look that is universally known, and without a doubt, could easily be translated to: ‘did this chick really just ask that?’
Still, you smile as you wait for an answer. The woman takes the initiative. “Yeah, we don’t really believe in rings, isn’t that right, babe?” she says so matter-of-factly. You blink again for what seems like the thousandth time, because of all things, you did not expect that to come out of her mouth. Her husband is quick to validate her statement. 
“Yeah, we think rings are unnecessary, you know? You don’t need a piece of metal to confirm your feelings,” he says walking to his partner’s side and wrapping an arm around her. 
Disgustingly, the two give each other googly eyes before locking lips briefly. You can tell they’re the type to probably share this information with just about any soul who asks. Today, you just happened to be that unfortunate soul. 
“Are you married?” she queries, tilting her head against her husband’s chest.
“I was, now we just…co-parent,” you purse your lips, ready for this entire interaction to be over. The woman frowns at your answer, and this time it’s not as genuine.
“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It was actually a mutual decision,” you quip.
“Okay,” she smiles, widening her eyes at her husband to signal a departure, “well, it was nice meeting you, and thank you for the red pepper flakes.”
The family turns away and heads to the front where check-out is. You don’t even buy the items you intended to purchase, just leave your cart in the middle of whatever aisle you abandoned it and leave the store.
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“Oh, baby, you didn’t?” Shoko asks in horror. You nod your head, still forgetting she can’t see you and the way you’re sliding down against the wall. 
“I did, and I shan't ever again,” a laugh erupts from your throat. 
“I mean, fuck, are we getting old? ‘Don’t believe in rings,’” she mumbles, “Don’t believe in rings, my ass! Is this what the youth are doing these days? Not proposing with rings?”
Now that you think about it, you wonder how that would even work. “Yeah, right? I mean, how does that even work? ‘Will you marry me? But, actually, you should know I don’t have a ring for you, so people will have to guess that we’re together purely based on vibes and energy,’” you mock, in a not-so-great man voice. 
Shoko’s laughing so hard by the end of your bit that she breaks the sound barrier, and the sound that makes on the phone sends you into your own fit of laughter. You laugh so hard it seems like a stream of pee comes out. Curse your developed incontinence after motherhood.
“God, you’re so stupid, I can’t breathe,” she says exasperatedly, and you know that on the other side she’s probably keeling over in her bed. 
“Oh, please. I bet you haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, bitch.”
“I haven’t,” she cackles. This back-and-forth continues until the two of you settle down enough to continue discussing your (pee-inducing) love life. 
“You tried any dating apps?” 
It’s a simple and valid question, but it only makes you laugh even harder. You only stop when the other side of the line goes quiet. “Wait, seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. It’s what everyone’s doing these days! You’re not that old, you know.”
“Shut up,” you kid, “ it’s just that I never considered it. I mean, dating apps feel so impersonal. How serious do people even take it?” 
“Sure, there’s people who use it for casual hook-ups and stuff, but a lot of people do come out of it with a relationship. Just don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”
“Oh?” you muse, curious. You wish Shoko could see your face, and the weird little dance your brows were doing. “Shoko, have you used a dating app before?” 
The brunette kisses her teeth. “Can’t get anything past you.”
“Never.”
There’s a sense of hesitance but you encourage her to elaborate because ‘she became estranged from you for almost a decade and needed to pay her dues’. Sighing defeatedly, she eventually acquiesces. 
“Fine, fine, maybe I’ve…been on a few dates,” she starts, “–and had a few one night stands, maybe more than a few, and maybe even dated a guy that turned into my stalker–”
“Ieiri Shoko! You naughty, naughty girl! Wait, stalker?”
“To make a long story short, I got a restraining order on that creep. Anyway,” she segues, attempting to change the subject, “We should make you a profile!”
For the rest of your phone call, Shoko guides you through all of the dating app basics. She offers her expert advice as you scroll through your camera roll for potential photos to use. You go through about a hundred before you finally settle on five that she really likes. 
The one that she tells you to put first is a photo of you in a bikini. It’s a few years old but she says you look ‘radiant’ and that your ‘tits were practically spilling out of the cups’. Plus, for further consolation, she says most people on dating apps are liars. 
“Everyone’s got at least one old photo on their profile, doesn’t make you a catfish,” she quips, “just means you’re a nostalgic person!” 
“Right…” 
The next one is a selfie. You’re smiling big in it, showing your gums, and it’s genuine. Shoko says guys like those types of photos because it shows them that you’re approachable. It also won her over because it’s fairly recent, too. 
Out of all your photos, there’s only a select few that were taken within the year. You had to admit to her that you never really took photos of yourself anymore. Satoru took most of your candids. Still, she had a mission. And she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she stuck around to see your first match. 
“After the selfie you should put the one of you with the girls.”
The picture she’s referring to is one Satoru also took. You remember that day fondly, and even now, the memories feel like a warm embrace. 
about 8 years ago . . .
“Dad, mom, look! Hurry!” Hana, your oldest, shouts. Satoru and you are sitting on a blanket up on the sand dunes with Haruki, who’s trying her best to make a sand castle–to no avail. 
“What is it, hon?” Satoru and you rush over to her, snatching toddler Haruki in the same breath. When you get to the scene, a flood of warmth washes over you upon discovering the ‘threat’. 
“See, it’s baby turtles!” Hana’s squatting in the sand, watching with pure and unfettered fascination as the hatchlings crawl north to the ocean. When she looks up at you, with eyes so bright, and a smile so big that’s missing two of her front teeth, you want to cry. 
“Oh, hon, that’s beautiful,” you gasp, lowering to your haunches so that you can join her. Satoru is about to follow suit before deciding at the last minute to go back to the blanket. When he returns, he snaps a picture unbeknownst to you. Eventually, though, you turn your gaze to him and he captures–what he used to think then–the ‘prettiest’ photo of you.
“You sneaking photos of me?” you squint, pointing at him. He trods closer until he’s standing above you. Then he snaps another. Your head’s tilted up, and you’ve got one eye open, and the other closed because of the sun. He always liked when you squinted like that because it made your nose do this cute little scrunch. 
“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”
You’re pulled out of your daydream when Shoko says your name on the other line.
“You still there?” 
“Yeah, it’s just…”
“Just what?” she queries, waiting for a response. 
“I wanna use it, but my ex-husband took it. It feels weird, you know? And do I want to use a photo of me with the girls?”
“Hon, who cares if Satoru took the photo? It’s still a good photo, and to answer your second question, why wouldn’t you include a picture with your girls?”
“I don’t know, I guess I’m just afraid no one will be interested. Nothing about a picture of a mom with her two daughters exactly screams ‘fuck me’.”
Shoko lets out a small chuckle but you’re being serious. “Oh, sweetie. You’re so cute. Milfs are in these days, I don’t think I’m the one getting old, I think it’s just you!”
“Ha-ha, laugh at the mom,” you feign annoyance, but give her a laugh in return.
“But seriously, please use that photo. Nobody’s going to skip you just because you’re a mom. A lot of men on there have kids of their own, just gotta tweak your settings,” Shoko reassures you.
By the end of your call, the profile is set. You thank your old friend for the previous heart-to-heart conversation, and the time she spent helping you set up your profile.
“Keep me updated, and don’t talk about mom stuff, okay? Now, I’m not saying you can’t talk about them,” she begins, “but show these guys your personality! I know she’s in the closet somewhere hiding next to our old slutty clubbing clothes.”  
Then, the both of you say your goodbyes and she wishes you a good-luck on your newly established dating journey. As you lay in your bed, you give your profile a final onceover. Not too bad, you think to yourself. 
You ended up using all of the photos she had originally picked out for you. Even the beach photo. To compensate for your old photos, though, Shoko made sure that your prompts were witty and full of personality. 
“I’d match me, I think. No, yeah, these are funny. She did a good job.”
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The following day, you open your phone to fifty notifications from the dating app. A tingle of excitement shoots through your body from the tip of your toes, to the top of your head. It takes all of your might not to squeal in the office. 
“Holy fuck,” you whisper at your desk. The amount of notifications that you initially saw on your homescreen read ‘50’ but when you opened the app, it showed you an overwhelming ‘100’ with a fat plus sign next to it. “Wait, are these all the people who liked me? Shoko’s gonna flip.” 
Getting up from your chair, you make a beeline to the nearest bathroom. Not that you have to use it, but so you can scroll through all the potential prospects without your boss seeing you on your phone. 
Pulling open the door to the bathroom, you close it shut behind you and lock it. A few minutes pass in the time you’re able to get through about half of the people who liked you. You end up skipping a lot of them. They’re either too young, too self-absorbed, creepy, or just downright not your type. 
Some stick out, though. Even trick you into thinking they’re potential matches, but then the other shoe drops–because there’s always another shoe. You’ll scroll through their profiles, and they’ll seemingly have all the perfect traits: intelligent, witty, handsome, tall–and then, boom. You see their ‘don’t want kids’ preference. Every failed match only discourages you more and more. 
It’s weird, because your profile preferences are set to ‘have kids’ and you even have a photo pictured with your girls. So why are men liking your profile despite that? After a few more scrolls, you’re just about ready to head back to your desk but then–you have a hit. 
Your finger hovers over the ‘x’ at the bottom of the screen, then retracts. The guy’s profile at first impression is miles better than the rest, it’s almost too good to be true. His first photo is what piqued your interest. It’s of him posing for a silly photo with his sons, and he’s got his arms draped around their shoulders. 
As you scroll down his profile, you see that there’s even more of him with his children. You take this as a green flag. He wants people to know he has kids, and that he isn’t embarrassed to show them off. You admire him for it. 
The last few remaining photos are an amalgamation of selfies and full-body photos. To the average, well-adjusted adult, looks wouldn’t be a deal breaker. But he definitely wasn’t too bad on the eyes, and you were not complaining about that–especially, after the odd men you had to scroll through to get here. In other words, he was gorgeous and still fit despite being older than you (him, respectively being in his early forties). 
Checking the time on your phone, you realize that you’re pushing your little ‘bathroom break’. Before heading back to your desk, you decide to respond to his first photo.
You: Cute! Could never get my girls to stand so still for a photo like this now haha :)
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Work goes by slower than you’d like, but finishes up just in time when you get a notification from the dating app. You’re a little more excited than you’d care to admit. Tidying up your workspace, you say your goodbyes to your colleagues and head to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, you rush to answer his message but realize it won’t go through because of the elevator’s poor service.
Kazuki: Oh, they’re moody and grown now, don’t be fooled. I can't remember the last time I saw my youngest smile. 
You don’t answer his reply until you get home. Actually, you do just about everything but answer his reply: check on the girls, shower, prepare dinner, pour a glass of wine–you’re nervous, and you don’t know why. But you know you should probably answer soon before he becomes disinterested. So you get comfortable in bed with your glass of wine and pull open his chat.
You: Lol, know that all too well. Kids are little assholes, aren’t they?
The speed in which he reads your text is startling, you don’t even have enough time to close out of the chat. Then, he responds. 
Kazuki: Hell yeah they are! 
Kazuki: Sometimes I want to strangle my youngest. He’s at that age where he’s starting to rebel and question everything. I told him he was supposed to be the ‘easy’ one, but his knucklehead brothers are bad influences on him…Tell me, does it ever get easier?
You: Sounds a lot like my oldest. She used to cling to me like a koala but now she’s the ring leader, and I’m the enemy. My youngest still loves her mama, though (for now lol). 
You: And to answer your question, I’d like to think so? 
You take a second before continuing your response. Shoko told you to keep the mom talk limited, but this seems to be working for you so far, and he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. So for once, you’re going to ignore her advice. 
You: Kids go through phases. It's our job to reassure them that we’re not going anywhere. No matter how much they push us away or try to, that is :)
Kazuki’s chat bubbles pop up, then disappear. You think he’s deciding on what to say. 
Kazuki: I can tell we’re gonna get along great. It’s nice opening up like this, you know? Talking to another parent. If I'm being honest, dating apps have always intimidated me…
Kazuki: People see kids as ‘baggage’, and it really bothers me. My kids aren’t baggage. They’re the best parts of me. And if someone doesn’t see that, then we have no business getting to know each other. 
Kazuki: Sorry for getting all sappy. Just felt like I needed to say it. 
His apology makes you frown. It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear someone talk about their kids so lovingly, because you feel the exact same way. You’re glad you downloaded the app, and you make a mental note to thank Shoko again later (after you debrief her about this). 
You: Never apologize for speaking about your kids! And if we’re being absolutely transparent, that was my biggest gripe with downloading this app, too. 
You: I’m so glad we matched each other. I’d like to get to know you more. And I’m hoping the feeling’s mutual?
Kazuki: It’s more than mutual. 
Kazuki: Don’t want to get ahead of myself but how do you feel about dinner? There’s a cool high-scale restaurant in the city that I haven’t been to yet. Heard it’s got two Michelin stars despite opening up not too long ago. 
The prospect of going on a sit-down dinner date has your stomach in knots. It’s been a hot minute since the last time you’ve done so, but you’re eager to know the man behind the screen on a more personal level. Plus, being treated to a high-scale restaurant with two Michelin stars doesn’t seem too bad either. You’re never one to turn down free dinner.
You: I’d love to, but how soon we talkin’? Gotta see if it’ll align with my schedule.
Kazuki: How’s this Friday at 8 sound? :)
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The days leading up to Friday breeze by in a blur. For the majority of the week, it feels like you’re walking on cloud nine. Eventually, the conversation transitions from the dating app to exchanging phone numbers, and since then, the two of you have been texting back-and-forth everyday.
You talk about mundane things. Work, shows, movies, books you’ve recently read, what your kids are up to–but the other things? The other messages are flirty, and sexy, and filled with so much tension that it could cut a rope in half. 
In between messages, the two of you have also exchanged a few photos. Nothing risqué or anything of that nature, just random photos of you throughout the day. The last one he sent was a few hours ago of him at work, captioned with: ‘Could this meeting be any longer?’. 
You reply to the message with the ‘ha ha’ reaction, in consideration of not wanting to get him in trouble at work (even if he was the one who initiated the conversation). As the days go by, though, you make it a habit to update Shoko every step of the way. 
Her first reaction to hearing about him was enthusiastic. That is, until you showed her screenshots from his profile. You vaguely remember her saying something that was meant as a compliment, but came out more like an insult. 
“‘Oh, he’s a dad!” was her initial response, “oh, he’s a dad…and he really loves his kids. You’re meant for each other.’” 
When you tried to ask her what she meant by that, she changed the subject. Every update since then has earned slightly more positive reactions, though.
Today, you ask her for more advice. Only this time, you’re on video call. 
“Shokoooo,” you drawl, “our date is tomorrow! You have to help me find something to wear.” The panic in your voice is so palpable, she can almost feel your shaky hands through the screen. Flipping the camera, you hurriedly pan your phone around the closet. 
“Breathe, girl, breathe,” she demonstrates first, before telling you to repeat the same motions. “Take me to that section over there–no, not that one–wait, yep, there.” You amble over to the area she’s directing you to through the phone.
“What’s that black little number right there?” She points. You prop the phone up on a shelf and scour through the section, tugging out a dress you haven’t seen in ages (which has you questioning how she even spotted it because it was pretty far back into the closet). Walking back into frame, you hold the fabric up to your body. 
Shoko nods in approval, “That’s the one, babe. Try it on!” 
It’d been about a decade since the last time you wore this dress. It’d also been about a decade since you were ever this small. Looking in the mirror, you run your hands over every surface inch, every crevice of the dress, in a newfound sense of appreciation for the adult weight you’ve gained since becoming a mother. 
The dress was always stunning but it hugged everything perfectly even more so now. When you walk back into frame, your friend gives you a look of pure adoration. She’s so enthralled that she snaps a few screenshots for keepsaking. 
“Thank god it’s Satoru’s turn to get the kids tonight,” she says, “‘cause you’re definitely getting some tonight.” 
You roll your eyes, reminding her she’s on speaker phone. “Oh, please. It’s just dinner!”
“Not in that dress,” she retorts, wagging her finger in the camera. While the two of you continue to chat about the details of tonight, a knock on your bedroom door draws your attention. 
“Mom, can I come in?” the voice sounds. It’s Haruki. 
“Come in, hon!” 
After you give the ok, you turn to Shoko and mouth to her to behave. Haruki turns the knob and enters, closing the door behind her. She sees you standing in front of the mirror before you see her, and silently utters a ‘wow’. You’re just about done putting your earrings in when you join her in the other room. 
“What do you think, bun? Does your mom look hot?” you spin around, smoothing your hands down the length of the dress. You wait in anticipation for her approval, because if anyone could tell it like it is, it was always going to be a kid. Your Haruki was no exception. 
“You look really pretty, Mom. I’m glad you’re going out tonight, I mean, you don’t really have friends so I think this will be good for you,” she elaborates, though you wish she would’ve stopped at the compliment. 
Still, it puts a smile on your face to hear her verbalize that she’s okay with you doing something for yourself. You never quite discussed the prospect of getting back out there with your kids–and not even intentionally. It just never felt like the right time. 
“You could’ve stopped at the compliment, punk!” you grab her, then wrap her in your arms, “but thank you. Love you, bun.”
“Love you more, mama.” Neither of you make the effort to pull away. Instead, you both stand there. Hugging, breathing, embracing each other’s warmth. You don’t always get hugs this good, so when you do, you savor it. Drag it out until your arms and legs get all tingly. 
Or until someone interrupts. Another knock on the door. This time it’s Hana. 
“Ew, what’s going on?” Hana feigns a look of disgust. You know she’s just jealous; she’ll never admit it, though. Which is why sometimes you have to force her to participate. 
“Get over here,” you scrunch your nose, forcefully pulling her into your tight embrace. She tries to protest but eventually accepts defeat. You squeeze them both until they whine that they can’t breathe anymore. Then you squeeze them some more because this one’s for you. 
“My special girls,” you breathe in, taking in all of their love. Soaking it all up so that tonight you have the courage to try again. To allow yourself a love of your own. When you let go, there’s a sniffle from the closet. It totally dawned on you that Shoko was still on the phone. 
“They’re so big now, they don’t even know their auntie,” she fakes a sob, blowing her nose into a tissue. 
“Mom, who’s on the phone?” Haruki queries with a confused expression etched onto her face. It suddenly dawns on you again that although you’ve been communicating with Shoko again, you haven’t exactly told them. 
“Hey, you came in here to tell me something right, Han?” Your attempt to change the subject is poorly done, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you considering deflection has never quite been an ability you excelled at. Nonetheless, the look of suspicion they give you after is fleeting before they explain to you in unison that their father is here. 
“Your father’s been waiting down there this whole time and nobody cared to tell me?” you whisper-yell, left eye twitching to emphasize your ill-preparedness. The girls only shrug their shoulders in response, like this was something you were just supposed to know. 
“Well, you did force us into a hug and make us do all that Kumbaya stuff,” Hana mumbles under her breath.
“Okay, enough about all that. Are you guys all packed? Where are your bags? I don’t want your dad seeing–” 
“You don’t want dad to see your date, right?” Hana raises a brow, all knowing. Sometimes she was a little too smart for her own good. You want to blame that on the private schools Satoru had them enrolled in, but really you just know she’s just a menace in her own right. She learned that from him. 
“I agree with the kid,” a voice chimes in. You rush to the closet and grab your phone from the shelf. There’s a huge, shit-eating grin on Shoko’s face. Somehow she’s responsible for this. You don’t know how yet, nor do you have proof, but you know it. 
“Okay, thank you, love you, bye!” Before you can hang up, Shoko blurts something. 
“Tell him I said hi,” she begins, “–andnottogetahardonwhenheseesyou!”
You hang up the call and roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself because of her idiocy. When you enter the corridor, you hear a faint sound of hushed voices from downstairs. It’s only when you round the bannister at the top, when those voices become discernible and louder. 
You stop at the top, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like all the air in your lungs have expelled. Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of what you’re wearing, and the fabric, and the way it clings to your body. Neither he, nor you, look away–you should, you want to, but you don’t. 
And in the time the two of you gaze upon the other, time stops for a modicum of a second. In this second, you and him are the last two souls in the world. At least, that’s how it feels anyway before he breaks eye contact. 
You shift your gaze shortly after, and put on a trained smile. Those eyes of his were always so intense. You guess you forgot over the years how easy it was to lose yourself in the crystalline pools of them. Gathering your wits, you resume your movements and saunter down the imperial staircase. 
“Hey, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Sort of lost track of time, but I think the girls are all packed,” you say, your voice coming to a decrescendo upon noticing the way his eyes trail over your frame. They’re unreadable, though. Indifferent, and honestly, you’re not sure how to feel. So, you begin fidgeting uncomfortably with the rings around your finger. 
Then, he smiles. It’s eerie and fake. “Not a problem, I haven’t been here too long. But, uh,” he begins ambling around the place, touching random objects around the living room, “Didn’t know you had plans. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with your colleagues?” 
You furrow your brows, confused with his sudden interests in your plans. It wasn’t really like him to prod. “No, actually,” you rock back-and-forth on the balls of your heels, “i’m…i’m going on a date,” you finish with a pursed smile. He only nods his head in response, still walking around the place touching stuff, messing with the picture frames on the mantle. They’re all crooked now. 
“How come this is the only picture you have up of me,” he asks suddenly. You know, that he knows, the answer to that. And he knows, that you know, you’ll indulge in his games anyway. 
“The girls wanted them in their rooms. Why do you ask? You want me to go grab them and put ‘em all up around the house?” Again, he doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a final once over before heading back to the foyer to ask if the girls are all set to go. 
“Yeah, but I can’t find my tablet, dad. Can I go look for it?” Haruki speaks up. “I thought I packed it.”
Satoru looks at the time on his watch, pinches the crease in between his brows. “Sure, kiddo. Can we make it quick, please?” He throws his hand in the air for emphasis, then points to his watch. Haruki nods, then runs up the stairs. 
“Actually, you go on up too and help your sister. You guys are holding up dad,” you turn to Hana and gesture for her to head up with your head. She rolls her eyes, yelling up the stairs for her younger sister to ‘freaking hurry up’. 
You and Satoru both turn to each other with wide eyes, laughing at the nerve of those children. 
“They get that attitude from you, you know,” you point to him, driving your index finger into his bicep. 
“You sure? Their mom’s got a pretty bad mouth on her, too. Or, have you forgotten?” He teases, bending his knees slightly to level his eyes with yours, intruding into your space. The smirk he dons is cheeky, too friendly–too inviting. You want to smack it off of him. 
“Oh, shut u–” the sound of your phone chiming interrupts your banter. It’s a message from Kazuki, and you open it while Satoru stands over you. Probably close enough to read the message on his own if he wanted. 
Kazuki: Hey, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can go through with tonight. 
When you read the message, your heart drops into your stomach. There goes the other shoe, you think, fully embracing your pessimism. Who were you kidding, really? To think that tonight you’d go out and have a good time. Do something for yourself. It was stupidity. 
Chat bubbles pop up on the screen. He has more to say. 
He has more to say, and you’re fighting the urge to cry–to not shake out of sheer frustration while you’re still standing in front of Satoru. Because nothing would be worse than him seeing you can’t even land a date. 
Kazuki: I recently just went through a divorce, and I know that I should have informed you about this before continuing our conversations…Especially since you’ve been so transparent with me about your own divorce and strife.
Kazuki: But if I’m being completely honest, I was scared. I genuinely wanted to see this through, at first. I wanted to forget about my ex-wife for just one night. But I realized I’ve been asking the impossible of myself…I’m still in love with her, and it’s because I’m in love with her that I won’t allow myself to lead you on any further. 
Kazuki: I think we would’ve had a good time tonight. It's unfortunate we had to meet under such circumstances because you’re a really lovely woman, and I’m sorry an asshole is standing you up right now. 
Kazuki: Take care. I know there’s a guy out there just waiting for his shot. 
Satoru takes notice of the way your face drops as you read over the messages. Part of him wants to overstep his boundaries and take a peek at the screen. But he doesn’t. He gives you your space and takes a seat on the couch, waits for you to say something first. 
In the meantime, he studies your face. Watches intently as your eyes become glossy the more you scan the messages, watches as your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hold back from crying. He thinks he knows what just happened. 
Taking a deep breath, you lock your phone and put on another trained smile, “Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.” Satoru dislikes when you do that. When you put on a fake smile and overcompensate to make others around you feel better, even when it’s so very obvious you aren’t. He wishes that sometimes you would just be selfish–act out. 
And then you continue the façade. It makes his skin itch. 
“I was too tired anyway, guess I can just catch up o–”
“Will you stop,” he spits, rising from his seat on the couch to stand. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he doesn’t regret it. You look at him like he’s got two heads as he walks over to the mantle and leans against it. His back is turned towards you, and the palms of his hands hold the crest of it. He uses it as leverage to rock on the heels of his feet. You can tell there’s something he wants to say because of the way his jaw ticks. 
Satoru is never one to bite his tongue, so you’re not exactly sure why he’s choosing to be so restrained. If he wasn’t going to spit it out, you were going to poke. “What’s your problem?” 
He chuckles at this, rubs his chin then pushes off the mantle to stand in front of you, gets all in your space again. The movement almost sends you back but you hold your ground, tilt your chin up at him and repeat the question. Slowly, this time with more venom. 
“My problem? What’s your problem?” He breathes through his nose, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between your own. “Why do you always pretend like you’re not lonely? It’s okay if you were looking forward to having fun tonight. It’s okay to be upset and be mad at the asshole who stood you up!”
With every verbal prod at you, the gap between you decreases. His feet inch closer and closer to your own and force you to retreat farther until your back hits the wall. The coldness of it causes your breath to hitch, and you try to stay calm as Satoru encroaches more into your personal space. Being on the receiving end of his passion was always suffocating, you feel exposed under the intensity of his gaze–even more so as he continues to tear into you. 
“Why do you even care?!” you cut him off, eyes wide and veins pumping full of adrenaline. “It’s not your place to be so invested in my life anymore! We’re not together, you don’t have to get so hot and bothered about things going shitty for me. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.” 
By the time you finish, you’re a heaving, shaking mess. He takes this as a sign to withdraw from your space, and goes to sit back down on the couch. When you finally settle your nerves, you join him, leaving a foot of space in between you. There’s an awkward silence, one that wouldn’t have even happened if he just respected your boundaries in the first place. Now he feels like the asshole instead of the actual asshole who dumped you. Taking a hesitant breath, he decides to speak up. 
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…It wasn’t my intention to come off so strong like that,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t always have to pretend to be fine. It’s not fair, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.” His eyes wander over to you reluctantly, like he’s scared that if he looks too long you’ll disengage from the conversation. 
“It’s okay,” your voice is small, just above a whisper. You want to face him, but you know that if you do, you'll break into a million pieces. So you keep your gaze downward, busy yourself with the stray pieces of thread on the bottom of your dress. “You’re right, you know. I think I just…I think I just tell myself to expect disappointment so that when something bad happens, I’ll know it’s not because I got my hopes up.” 
Satoru turns to you, and you can see him frown through your peripheral. Still, you don’t face him because you’re not done talking. But you thank him silently for listening without interrupting. 
“Even though you’re right, I don’t appreciate the way you came on so strongly. We’re not married anymore, we’re not a couple–we’re co-parents. So if there’s something I want you to know about that’s outside of the scope of our kids, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, leave it alone.”
Satoru’s face softens. For once you’re being selfish, putting your foot down. This is the side of you he likes. “Okay. I respect that,” he says, “But can I ask you something?” The smile on his face is mirthful, like he’s got something else up his sleeves this evening. Skeptical, you finally face him with a raised brow. 
“What?”
“Let me take you to dinner.” 
You laugh in his face, even go as far as smacking his arm because you want him to know you found the joke really funny. He doesn’t budge, and that’s when you realize he’s being serious. 
“Wait, what?” 
“Let’s go to dinner,” he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest. You tilt your head in disbelief. You’re just waiting for someone to tell you you’re on that old reality show punk’d. 
“Funny, I just poured my heart out to you and now you’re making fun of me,” you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. 
“I’m being serious,” he reassures, “you’re already dressed up. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” His eyes are twinkling with hope, and once again, you find yourself falling victim to their persuasiveness. 
Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating. 
Giving in, you ask, “So what are you gonna do? Drive all the way home to get dressed?” 
The question is genuine, but the bastard just grins. “I’m a little hurt,” he throws a hand over his heart, “don’t you know me by now? I’m a businessman. I keep pressed blazers and slacks on me at all times.”
He swings his keys around his index finger, hoping that the promise of a spare change of clothes being in his car is enough to convince you to say yes. 
“I don’t know…” you trail. 
“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise you won’t regret it.”
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Somehow he was able to persuade you into going out. After he changed into his spare clothes, you ended up telling your girls that there was gonna be a change of plans, and that they’d go home with their dad tomorrow. 
Of course, before leaving, you made sure to leave some money on the table for pizza, and you also made sure to drill into their heads not to open the door for anyone except the delivery guy. You knew they knew the drill already, but it didn’t feel right to leave without saying it anyway. 
“Be good, listen to your sister, she’s in charge,” you pinch Haruki’s cheek. Hana smirks, nodding her head in agreement with you. 
“I will mom, I know,” she huffs, crossing her arms.
“And you,” your finger wags at Hana, her smirk drops. “Don’t provoke your sister, be nice. Act like you love each other, please.” 
“Fine, whatever. I guess,” she grabs the knob to the door, ready to kick the both of you out already. “So does this mean the two of you are back together, or?” 
Satoru and you turn to each other before answering in unison, “No.” 
“Okay, cool. Well, have fun,” she practically closes the door on the two of you, locking it after. Satoru is just as dumbfounded as you are, but then you break into a fit of laughter. 
“Those kids, man.”
“Your kids!” you correct, pushing him playfully as the both of you walk down the pebbled pathway. He finds his equilibrium in time to unlock the car and open your side of the door. You pause before ducking inside.
“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you jest, “And they say chivalry is dead.”
“How could it be when I’m alive?” He says matter-of-factly, closing your side of the door. He taps the top of the car before sliding across the hood to the other side. Nice to see some things never changed. 
When he gets inside and turns on the car, he puts his hand on the back of your seat to back out. The proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to physically refrain from letting your eyes linger on his jaw, and his arms, and the face he makes when he’s trying to concentrate. 
You try to dispel these less-than-friendly thoughts by looking somewhere, anywhere else but him. But you can’t, and it’s irritating. 
This is the second time tonight you’ve been this close, and it’s only this time that you realize something about him is…different. Earlier, he didn’t really smell like anything, but you quickly notice his smell has changed. 
There’s a sort of piney scent coming from him. It’s not strong or obnoxious enough to blind your nostrils, but it’s enough for you to just barely pick up on it. You almost think it was premeditated, that he took the liberty of spritzing some on before walking you to the car. Before you separated, he’d made it a habit to wear variations of woody scents for you. If you can recall correctly, a passing comment you made about the cologne he was wearing that day is what sparked the habit. 
Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental? 
“You smell nice,” you blurt, filling in the silence. 
Satoru glances at you, “Thank you.” You hate that from the corner of your eye, you can see his stupid little smirk growing bigger by the minute. He already had a big ego, it didn’t need to be stroked any more. 
“Don’t let it go to your head, though. You usually smell pretty rank.”
“Ohhh, is that so? Guess I gotta start wearing this more often then, huh?”
“Sure, do what you want,” you say, trying to remain indifferent even though you’re failing terribly to hide your smile. When the car approaches a red light, you finally decide to ask the big question. “So where are you taking me?” 
“You’ll see,” he glances over, “Just know I’m good friends with the owner, so last minute reservations weren't a problem.” 
The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the low hum of the music playing on the radio. When you arrive at the location, Satoru makes sure to walk all the way around to your side of the door again and open it. Immediately after, the two of you are greeted by a young male. He’s wearing a white button down, black slacks, and a black vest with a red tie. Judging by his appearance, you assume he’s a valet driver. 
Satoru drops his keys in the driver’s hands, and escorts you towards the entrance. The boy bows and goes to park the car. Looking around, you start to wonder where exactly this place is supposed to be. The area is dark and secluded, and from where you stand outside, it doesn’t sound like there’s supposed to be a restaurant here. You don’t hear any voices, you don’t even see any security or other passerbyers. 
Still, you follow behind him like a duckling, only coming to a halt when he leads you to a door taller than the both of you. He gestures for you to back up, then raises his knuckles to blow a strong, single knock. You’re taken by surprise when a set of angry eyes appear behind a slot in the door. 
The pair of eyes first scan over you, then Satoru. A gruff voice is second to accompany them, “Where can I get a good drink?” 
“I heard the bar down the street is nice,” Satoru answers. The hatch to the door closes, then swings open the door, and the man behind it moves aside to welcome you in.
“Follow me, please.” Once he closes the door, he begins guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. After making what seems like your hundredth turn, you eventually reach a staircase. The man gestures for you to go on ahead, and you think this is him implying where the three of you will depart.
“Thank you,” you say softly, disappearing down the stairs. Satoru isn’t too far behind, keeping a pace between you. As you near the end of the long, narrow hallway, a stream of white light brightens up your whole path. It leads you down to another door like a beacon of light, and when you reach it, you can hear voices, live music, and dishes clanking on the other side. It’s bustling with life. A huge, joyous smile plasters across your face. It’s almost child-like in appearance, like you haven’t seen something this cool in a long time. 
Satoru stands beside you and winks. “What d’ya think? Any idea yet where we are?” 
“I think this is fucking cool, and hm,” you take a second to mull it over, “are we at a speakeasy?” 
“Smart girl. Now come on.” Stepping back, you allow him to pull open the door, and when he does, there isn’t a word to describe the atmosphere of the place you step into. All you can do is stand there in astonishment. Before long, a man walks up to you. 
“Welcome, what is the name you reserved under?” 
“Gojo.”
Nodding, the host instructs you to follow after him. He leads you to a private seating area, somewhere far in the back that’s secluded from the other patrons. The space is much bigger, and much more extravagant. You know you’re only sitting way back here because Satoru is who he is. And in all the years you’ve known him, his connections were just another party trick in his arsenal. 
The hostess seats you, then Satoru, and tells you that a waiter will be with you shortly. 
“This is nice, really nice, but is it–”
“Legal?” he finishes your sentence, “don’t worry. It’s a modern speakeasy-style restaurant. There’s nothing illegal going on here, promise.” 
While you wait for your designated waiter, your focus shifts from the man in front of you to the man singing on the stage. Up until now, his voice was white noise in the background, but then he started singing a tune scarily reminiscent of your past–and your breath catches in your throat. 
If I ever leave you, baby
You can say I told you so
And if I ever hurt you
You know, I hurt myself…
Turning your gaze back to Satoru, you squint your eyes mirthfully in disbelief. You wonder if this is just a funny coincidence, if this is the universe playing her tricks, but you know deep down, that coincidences and Gojo Satoru don’t belong in the same sentence. 
You open your mouth to speak, but quickly close it when you see the waiter approaching from the corner of your eye. He greets the both of you with a polite smile, then sets down two glasses of water. 
“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for the night,” he says, placing a menu in front of you, “Can I get you fine folks started off with a bottle of wine?” 
Satoru nods, tells him to bring the best bottle of red they have and then gestures for him to come closer so that he can whisper something in his ear. All the while, you sit back in your seat observing, clicking your nails on the table until the server pulls back and bows. 
When he departs, you immediately lean in over the table, and ask, “Just how much time did you have to plan all of this?” 
Satoru feigns aloofness, taking a sip of his water, “What do you mean?” 
You roll your eyes, gesturing at the stage with your eyes. Then, as if suddenly coming to a realization, he goes, “Oh, that? Yeah, I had nothing to do with that. But isn’t it funny they’re playing our old song?” 
Now he’s smirking, with his elbow leaning back on the chair, and a gaze so piercing, you’re certain you’ll crumble into nothing unless you look away. So you do, avert your gaze back to the stage and sway calmly. 
Is that any way for a man to carry on
Do you think I want my loved one gone
Said I love you
More than you’ll ever know
More than you’ll ever know
“So funny,” you counter. 
Eventually, the server comes back with a bottle. “1982 Chateau Latife Rothschild,” he holds it out to present, “Is this alright?” 
Despite the years spent with Satoru, and the many elitist events you often attended with him, your knowledge on wine had never surpassed anything but surface level. You knew the difference between good wine and cheap wine was the taste, but your taste buds had grown accustomed to store-bought, so if anything, store-bought tasted like heaven to you. Anyway, though, you nod your head and urge him to pour a glass. 
“Thank you,” you smile, before gently swirling the glass and bringing it up to your nose to smell (something you only know to do after being the odd man out at so many company banquets). Satoru waits for you to sip your glass before he sips his. The way you melt into your seat is a silent assurance that you’re pleased. 
“This is great, you’re amazing,” you tell the server, who seems pleased by your compliment. 
“Glad to be of service, miss. Are you ready to order?” 
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Dinner goes by smoothly. In fact, it goes by so smoothly, you and Satoru finish the entire bottle of wine. Now you sit at the table, bellies full, faces flushed and sore from laughing, and now you find yourself telling him about the grocery store incident. If you had half a mind (a sober one), you’d shut up right this second to save yourself from the embarrassment. But you don’t. And Satoru’s very persuasive when you’re tipsy. 
“Keep going,” he leans in, hand nestled under his chin. He’s completely invested in the story. Actually, as soon as he heard the words ‘store’ and ‘cute guy’, he just had to know more. And you begging him to change the subject didn’t help, not when the sadist in him loved to see you so embarrassed. 
“Fine,” you hiccup, “It was so - so bad, Toru.” He doesn’t miss the way you slip and call him by the nickname you’d always reserved for him. It makes his heart race, and god, does he miss the way it sounds spilling from your lips. But he ignores the feeling, and refocuses on your story instead. Which, by the way, was proving to be a task in itself because his eyes couldn’t stop drifting back down to your lips. So soft, so–
“And then she said ‘we don’t believe in rings,’” you whisper, fist coming down on the table. The sound it makes nearly sobers you up, and you realize just how loud you’re being despite your table being secluded from others. Giggling like a kid, you continue, “I mean, how fucking insane is that?!” 
“Something as bizarre as that could only ever happen to you,” he replies, laughing along with you, “those people were crazy.” 
“The craziest,” you agree, throwing your head back in another fit of laughter. Gradually, the two of you begin to settle down, and once again, you find your attention being drawn back to the man on the stage. Only this time, he’s making an announcement.
“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Tonight I’ve got a special request,” he says, looking out into the audience. Looking at you. “This one’s for a very special lady who, from what I’ve been told, is a great mother that needs to start doing things for herself.” 
The singer steps out of the spotlight and hands the note to a server. Your server. Then he begins to sing, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It was your wedding song. 
[...] I don’t even know how to love you
Just the way you want me to
But I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)
Yes, I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)
“Now this one? This one was me,” Satoru leans forward, and you swiftly turn your head to face him. He smiles as he watches your face go through ten different emotions before ultimately softening. It warms your heart to see how incredibly planned this evening was, despite the amount of time he was given to work with. Even so, it kind of scares you–because then that meant this was a grand gesture–that this was his way of saying something. And you weren’t too sure if you wanted to hear it. Your gaze drops to your lap, and Satoru frowns. 
To fall in love 
To fall in love
To fall in love with you…
“Look at me,” he says softly, but you don’t. “Hey, look at me.” He reaches over the table to take your chin in between his fingers. The touch alone feels electric. Sends liquid hot lightning down the column of your spine. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and like always, it’s suffocating. They’re so wide with hope, and so, so gentle in the way they hold you. The longer you gaze upon them, the more you convince yourself it’ll be okay if you surrender to them. 
“It’s been years since we’ve divorced,” his voice is shaky, almost strained, like he’s actively thinking how to choose his words carefully, “and when we sat down that night, I thought it was what I wanted, too, you know? And for a while, it was,” he reaches a hand across the table to rest atop your own, “but you gotta know…you gotta know–you’re it for me. There’s no one else on this Earth that I want to start over with. You’ve always been the beginning and end of my story, and I’ll be damned if I let another man start one with you.”
Your heart is beating faster than you can even process what he’s saying. The only thing you’re focused on is not passing out in the middle of this damn restaurant. But then he’s squeezing your hand, and your focus is drawn back to those piercing, pale blues that even put crystals to shame. 
“So what do you say?” he says, so softly, so tender. “Can we try again?”
Waiting for your reply, he squeezes your hand again. It’s like your soul is wandering the line between death and the living, and his touch is the tether that brings you back. In the background, the tune of the song sung at your wedding gives you a push of courage. 
I don’t even know how to kiss your lips (kiss your lips)
At a moment like this
But I’m going to learn how to do 
All the things you want me to
Yes, I’m ready
(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready
To fall in love
To fall in love
To fall in love right now
“Yes.”
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The walk back to the car is hurried. Aided by both, years and years of built up tension, and the liquid courage currently bubbling in your systems. 
The race back to his apartment is even faster. You thank the gods silently that it’s within close proximity to where you just were. 
Once you get there, make your way past the doorman and concierge (who both give the two of you a knowing look), go up the elevator, and finally get into his loft–it’s over. Years of restraint, years of pretending, wanting–yearning, come crashing down. 
There’s barely any time to close the door before he’s pushing you against it. His lips trail down the column of your neck, then come up to kiss your jaw, until eventually, they find your lips. And when they do, it’s instantaneous–that familiar feeling, the feeling that feels almost like falling. 
Once again, for what felt like centuries, you feel again the rush of helplessness. The push and pull of the tide. It brings you down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean floor, and it’s unmerciful. 
Kissing Satoru is like being shocked with ten thousand volts of energy. Like all this time you’ve spent not kissing him, has been costing you your life, and he’s the only one who can deliver you salvation. It’s all teeth and tongue for a minute. Messy, and sticky, and nasty. A true testament to the desperation brewing in the pits of both your stomachs. 
The sensation of it all has your knees going slack, and that’s when he says–
“Jump.” 
Obeying, you do just that. Jump right into his arms, and wrap your legs around his torso like you’ve done so many times before. The way you feel now is the way you used to feel before then, too. Like you were made to fit like this. To be held in his arms like you were molded from the same clay. 
Carefully, he adjusts his grip on your body. Keeps his palms planted on the bottoms of your ass, and begins the trek to his room. He struggles a bit getting there because you haven’t stopped kissing since entering the apartment, but he figures it out after a stumble or two (which resulted in a bitten lip and you apologizing profusely through giggles). 
“The turbulence up here is crazy, don’t blame me, blame the pilot,” you jest, kissing down his neck to make up for it. 
“I’ll make sure to let him know,” he jokes back. As soon as he gets to the bed, he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You try to bring him down to your height but he stops you, wags his finger in your face playfully before using it to push you back into the bed. His fingers start to play with the fabric of your dress, and then his face takes on an indifferent expression. The same one from earlier that night when he first saw you walking down the stairs. 
“Can’t believe you were gonna wear this for him…” he trails, lifting the fabric up slowly, eyeing you while doing so, “as if this dress doesn’t mean something.” 
Of course, when Shoko chose it, its significance did make you falter–but in your defense, not once did you ever anticipate for him to see you in it. And you especially didn’t expect for him to remember it, the last time you wore it was almost a decade ago. 
“I didn’t…” you start, a smile creeping on your lips, “think you remembered?”
“‘Course I did, how could I not?” He says more sharply than intended, taking offense. He takes offense because he spent the better half of the night showing you he remembered. The little things and everything else in between. Couldn’t you see that?
“It was our 4th anniversary. Bought you this dress and fucked you in it that same night. Funny how the second time I’m seeing you in this dress, the circumstances are the same except only this time we’re divorced,” he says, crawling over your body. “Guess I gotta show you just how much I remember.” 
With that, he slips a hand under your dress, pulls your panties to the side and runs a finger down your slit. Oh-so-willingly, do you spread your legs for him. It’s almost subconscious, the way your body responds to him. And he revels in it. Lets his fingers work you, feel you, bring you to ecstasy. Then he heightens your pleasure tenfold when he kisses his way down your body, and takes a seat before you on his knees. 
Unceremoniously, he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. Takes his time slipping your panties down the length of your legs, then kisses the insides of your thighs, before finally stopping at your mound. 
Slowly, he lowers himself to your cunt, kisses your clit softly. Once, twice, three times. The pace in which he’s moving is killing you, to say the least. But you know he’s savoring the moment, making up for all the years he spent not kneeling like this between your legs. So you let him; let him caress you all over before he comes seeking the honey-sweet salvation dripping from your core. 
The second his tongue makes contact with your heat, you find yourself clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “Fuck, Toruuuu,” you drawl, back arching off the bed. Pleased with his abilities, he smiles smugly, using this as an opportunity to push himself even deeper. Up and down, he licks at your slit, uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue to prod at that spongy spot he knows you love. 
“Tastes,” a harsh suck, “so good,” another, “better than I remember.” 
You know he’s talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. You’re so caught up in your own high, you don’t even take notice of the obscene sloshing sounds coming from your pussy, or the moans you’re making. All you can do is lay there and take it as he takes, and takes, and takes from you. 
Soon, you find your orgasm cutting through you like a knife, and you come with a strangled cry that has you biting back tears. Satoru talks you through the whole thing. He lays his head down on your thigh and continues working you with his fingers until you start to shake from the overstimulation. 
For a few, you lay and stare at the ceiling. You think you can see the Milky Way–and all the constellations that make it up. It feels like your soul is floating beyond your physical body, and you don’t come back down to Earth until a sharp, stinging sensation brings you back. Did he just?
“Did you just bite me?” you lift your head, peering down to see the evidence. In all its glory, there it was; a red ring smack-dab in the inside of your thigh with teeth imprints. Looking at Satoru, he grins. 
“Had to get you back from earlier,” he says, sitting back on his knees. You attempt to kick him with your foot, but he grabs hold of it. Pretending to be wounded, he gasps, “Is this how you treat the man who just gave you a soul-shattering orgasm?” 
You roll your eyes, but to your dismay, it only encourages him to continue. 
“Fuck, Toru,” he mimics, “oh my god, Toru. You fuck me so goo–”
“Alright, enough!” you manage to kick him this time, laughing as you bring up your hands to cover your face. “Keep carrying on like that and I won’t let you fuck me…” You’re serious in your bite, but he’s smirking. Like he knows you’re full of bullshit. 
“Yeah right. You and I both know I make you feel too good.” 
Feeling bested, you scoff, though, there’s no real weight behind it. While he begins to remove his shirt, you sit up and replace his hands. He relinquishes control and allows you to unbutton it until the item falls haphazardly to the floor. 
He’s so beautiful, you think. Still so chiseled, so perfect after all these years since you’ve last seen him like this. At his most vulnerable. The only difference now is that there are more freckles littered across his skin. Back then, he’d say they were signs of aging, and he’d hate them. 
But he’s older now. More mature. So much so that he even winks at you when you trace your fingertips over them.
“They suit you,” you whisper. 
“Yeah?”
You nod your head, “mhm.” 
Continuing your ministrations, you begin removing his belt. He holds your gaze the entire time it takes for you to unzip his pants and pull them down–and he doesn’t once shy away when you discover the wet spot on the front of his briefs. Slowly, delicately, you remove the soiled item and let it fall down to the floor with the rest of his clothes. 
Still looking at him, you take hold of his length and fist him once, twice, experimentally. A dribble of pre oozes from his slit and you bring it to your mouth. All the air in his lungs expel into the air when you lick it off with your tongue, and god, he thinks he could come from that alone. 
God, he’s missed you. Missed your touch, your lips–the way you hold him with your eyes like he’s something worth being gentle with. Nothing could ever compare to you, not even his own hand. 
As soon as you’re about to take him in your mouth, he stops you. Pushes you back down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. “No more playing, I’m tired of playing,” he breathes, lowering himself down until half of his weight is on top of you. 
Guiding his cock to your entrance, he pushes past your folds with little resistance. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him in has his arms wobbling like jelly, but he musters enough strength somehow to stay up. You, on the other hand, are close to tears. 
The more he eases himself in, the more you feel like you’re being stretched open (despite him previously prepping you). If you were being truthful, this wasn’t a complete shock to you. You’ve known that he’s always been big, but something about tonight feels different. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve had something more than just your own fingers. 
Even so, you try your best to ignore the burn of the stretch. You throw your arms around his neck and invite him deeper into you, hooking your legs around him so tightly that it renders his limbs useless. For a minute, all you can feel is the weight of him inside of you, and his chest against yours as they rise and fall asynchronously. 
“Toru,” your voice is just barely above a whisper, but enough to make the hairs on the nape of his neck stand. “Make love to me.” 
Heeding your request, he begins moving. Painfully slow, he unsheathes himself from you until only the head of his cock is inside, then pushes himself all the way back in with force. Again, and again, he repeats this motion. Pulls out, pushes in. Pulls out, pushes in, until he decides to increase his pace and set a steady rhythm. 
Every thrust into you is meticulously calculated. Sharp, and forceful, and not once does he disrupt the rhythm. He listens carefully to the sounds you make. Even listens to the way your breath hitches when he hits a spot right. Everything he’s doing is perfect–and it’s to no surprise. Deep down, you know that Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand. He’d know it if you were all old and wrinkly. He’d know it if his soul reincarnated. Hell, he’d know it blind. 
“Missed this,” he grunts, burying his head into the interstice of your neck, “missed you,” a kiss to your neck, “missed us.” 
The veracity of his words render you speechless. He’s already professed his feelings for you tonight, but it feels even more real now that you’re beneath him. To be loved by Gojo Satoru was a feeling many couldn’t say they had the consolation of knowing. Only a few in his circle could hold that position–but only one person in this world could truly ever know his love to its fullest extent. You. 
Satoru continues his mindless rambling, “I love you,” a thrust, “it’s always been you,” another, “was always going to be you.” Leaning back on his heels, he pushes your dress all the way up to reveal your breasts. Now it’s him who sits back and admires this time. As if he were reacquainting himself, he traces the planes and pastures of your chest with an eager hand. He runs it up and over each mound, squeezing and kneading the flesh experimentally. 
Then, he dips down and kisses the space between them. Sucks and licks until the skin bruises, and he has evidence to prove tonight actually happened. Eventually, he withdraws from your chest and returns his focus on easing his cock in and out of your cunt. 
“So beautiful,” he says, but it’s more to himself than anything. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, he doesn’t even think you can hear him. “Want you to cum on my cock, know you can do it, baby. Know you can,” he grunts, taking your hand and intertwining it with his own. Letting his head fall into your neck, he begins to quicken his pace. Fucks into you with everything he’s got and willing to give. 
“Toru,” you finally manage to say, “‘m so close, keep going. Do it - do it inside.” 
Do it inside. Do it inside. Do it inside. The thought is tempting, too tempting. It makes his dick twitch inside of you, and he swears if you say it again, he’ll actually do it. But he knows better than to listen to anything you say out of delirium. 
“Trust me, sweet girl,” he cradles your face, to which you lean into, “I want to - I want to so fucking badly. But we both know you’d regret it later.” 
Whining, your lips form into a pout, and the sight is so cute, he can’t help but to kiss it off of you. Compared to your kiss earlier, this one is much sweeter. Slower. More relaxed. He kisses you with the intent of making you dizzier than you already are, and it’s scary. Even so, you don’t pull away. You allow him to drink you up. Like your lips are the only source of water around, and he’s been quenched for days. 
Finally, with a few more thrusts, you reach your climax. The pressure building in the pit of your belly pops like a balloon, and everything goes white. “Toru!” you shriek, arching off the bed and trembling in his grasp. 
Using your arch as leverage, he keeps his hands underneath your back and continues to ram into you without abandon. You’re a babbling, wet mess at this point, and your cunt squeezing around him only encourages him more. 
“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna - ‘m gonna,” he curses, balls beginning to tighten. Quickly, he unsheathes himself and fists himself the rest of the way. With an impassioned moan, he climaxes–spurting thick, white, ropes of seed all over your abdomen. Then, falls onto your limp body with a grunt, chest heaving rapidly, and slick with perspiration. 
By this time, you’ve settled down enough to form a proper sentence. “That was…”
Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.” 
Still spent, he continues to lay atop you. And you, having nowhere else to go, let him. The two of you lay comfortably in silence like this for a long time. Just you tracing shapes into his back, and him purring into your neck. Both of you know you should be getting up, but neither of you make an effort to do so. In this moment, time is transcendent. There is no rush to move when time stands still for you. 
Soon, that silence is broken. 
“I love you,” you say, and there’s no elaboration. Not even a recant. In fact, you say it so nonchalantly, he’s not even sure it was real. You say it like you’ve never been more certain in your life, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do. 
“Really?” he queries, almost pathetically like the mere idea of you loving him is something unattainable. You look at him like he’s got two heads. 
“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you,” you admit, pausing your ministrations on his back, “I just had to relearn how to love you.” He smiles at this, hums into your neck to keep from crying. 
“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he mumbles into your neck, “so where do we go from here?”
“From here we take it slow. We’ll learn together what it means to be individuals, and then from there we’ll see where it goes,” you say matter-of-factly, “no more repeating past mistakes.”
“Agreed,” he nods, “what will we tell the girls?”
That’s when your eyes widen and you sit up, forcefully pushing Satoru off of you. 
“What did I say, what’s wrong?” he queries, sitting up on the bed. He watches you rummage around the room maniacally, head on a swivel as you run out of the room and return with a purse. You pull your phone out to see a slew of missed calls and messages. 
“We forgot to call the girls!” You yell, showing him your phone screen of missed calls. Gojo jumps up to join you, one leg already sliding into his pants. 
“Shit!” 
Noticing the state of your appearance, you pinch the skin between your brows. “Satoru, I can’t wear this! You got cum all over it,” you groan, pointing to all the splotches of white. He tells you to wait a second before disappearing into his closet, then he comes back with a fist of clothes and throws it at you. 
“I can’t wear this either, they’ll wonder why I’m wearing your clothes!” 
Satoru runs to you and pull the dress off of your body, “We’ll wash it!” he screams, disappearing again out of the room, and to where you imagine, the laundry room. When he returns, he’s out of breath and panting. It’s only then do you realize how insane he looks with half his shirt buttoned, and his pants twisted around his hips. A giggle escapes your lips.
“What are you laughing at? Chop chop,” he claps, ushering you into his bathroom. 
Yeah, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this idiot.
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comments + reblogs very appreciated !!!
© arachine 2023
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neos127 · 2 months
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park sunghoon x idol!fem!reader | stuck by the glue onto you
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wc. 1.2k genre. strangers to lovers(??), pining + clingy hoon cw. none!! notes. idk what this is but this was todays daydream! so i had to write it into a fic (kinda messy bc it’s a brain dump but!)
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you were laid out in your bed after a long day of practice, taking time to admire the view out your window while also scrolling through tiktok. you wanted to see if fans had watched your group’s new variety show with enhypen yet, knowing how excited both fandoms were after seeing the teaser.
when you scrolled onto a particularly interesting video, you sat up, your heart rate increasing as your eyes narrowed on the text.
‘sunghoon realizing that he’s in love with y/n’ was the caption in the middle of the screen along with ‘glue song’ playing in the background. you took a deep breath before allowing the video to play, already feeling butterflies invade your stomach.
CLIP #1
you were very nervous while being interviewed considering that your group had only recently debuted. it was your first week doing promotions and due to being a foreigner, you weren’t very confident with your korean yet.
as your shaky hands held the microphone close to your face, you began to stumble over your words. the dialogue on the script you were supposed to repeat suddenly blurring together. panic crossed your face for a split second, and mc sunghoon noticed that. he quickly mumbled the word you forgot into his microphone and you shot him a grateful smile before repeating and continuing with your small speech.
CLIP #2
you had remembered seeing this clip about a year ago, trying to brush it off even though the moment had never left your mind. apparently sunghoon couldn’t divert his gaze from you at an award show, his eyes practically sparkling as he observed you in your gorgeous dress. sunghoon rarely looked at any other female idols, so fans seemed to single out the moments when sunghoon’s attention was only directed onto you. when the two of you crossed paths, he smiled and politely bowed which caused you to do the same.
CLIP #3
your group was meeting enhypen for the variety show you had recently filmed with their group. everyone was shy and timid even though you had met each other many different times due to being under the same company. fans seemed to mostly focus on you and sunghoon though, who were very giggly and flustered. sunghoon’s ears turned a light pink as he shook your hand, his palms already sweaty due to the small encounter.
CLIP #4
sunghoon tried his best to be nonchalant about the fact that you had both been paired together for the field day activities, which was hard considering his long time crush on you. once the two of you started playing the games, you became more comfortable with each other. it seemed as if you two had been lifelong friends as you laughed and joked with each other.
the members teased him about being your shadow while completing missions, noticing how sunghoon never left your side even for a second.
CLIP #5
during your lunch break, sunghoon still seemed to follow you like a lost puppy. he timidly walked up to you, watching as you served yourself from the mini buffet the company set up.
“what are you eating?” he asked softly, causing to quickly look up at him with wide eyes. he scared you a bit, but the momentary surprise was soon replaced by comfort due to his presence.
“oh um…i was just combing some stuff. i came up with this really good combination, want to try it?” you asked, your tone becoming more light once you got over the initial shock of sunghoon being so close. sunghoon nodded his head in agreement, allowing you to take his plate and serve him.
when you had expected sunghoon to walk away and join the boys at a smaller round table to eat, he didn’t, keeping close as you looked around for an empty seat. since you concluded that sunghoon wanted to eat with you, you led him to a picnic table for two, smiling at the boy as he sat across from you.
the boys all gave him curious looks, the editors making small question marks appear above their heads as they observed you two. sunghoon didn’t seem to care— or maybe he simply didn’t notice, too focused on your pretty smile and the way your cheeks puffed up as you shoved rice into your mouth.
CLIP #6
while walking up a trail to find your next mission, you had nearly stepped into a deep mud puddle that would have definitely ruined your favorite pair of sneakers. sunghoon stopped you quickly, placing a strong arm in front of your torso to stop you from moving. you looked at up him with a raised brow before realizing that you had nearly stepped into the mess.
“ah, thank you.” you giggled nervously, feeling grateful that the gentleman next to you had been looking out for your safety. the boy mumbled a small ‘your welcome’ before grabbing onto your sweater and gently tugging you around the puddle. the action made your insides melt.
CLIP #7
when everyone had finished their respective missions and mini games, you were all called back to the picnic area where you had first started. sunghoon and a few other members were already there, waiting for the rest to arrive. the boy was about to sit down on the plush grass until he saw you and a couple of your group mates walk into the area. you sat down behind jay and a member of your group, causing sunghoon to look longingly at you. before he could even warn himself about being too obvious about his crush, he walked over and sat down next to you, a small smile on his face as your gazes met.
you looked at him for a second too long, causing you both to quickly look away in a flustered frenzy. you bit your lip to suppress a giggle, trying to focus on jungwon who was congratulating both groups for finishing the tasks.
CLIP #8
the clip was zoomed in, and you hadn’t even noticed that the camera had still been recording your actions. you and sunghoon walked away from the picnic area with the rest of your groups back to the car, playfully bumping shoulders as you trekked up a hill. it wasn’t much compared to the rest of the clips, but it was enough considering the compilation you had just watched.
you breathed out a shaky sigh before opening the comments, noticing how everyone cooed over the interactions and gushed over how sunghoon seemed to be enamored of you. people described how his eyes lit up whenever you smiled and how he had been attached to you like glue throughout the whole video.
you were a bit surprised that you hadn’t noticed how clingy sunghoon had been that day, only focusing on how you finally had time to get to know the boy more.
you smiled upon playing the video a second time, your finger hovering over the ‘share’ button before finally copying the link and sending it to sunghoon on a whim.
you waited all night for a response, barely being able to stomach down your dinner and constantly darting your eyes over to your phone that only seemed to light up from company emails and your group’s chat.
suddenly as you were getting ready for bed, your phone lit up with a notification from sunghoon. you quickly grabbed the device, toothbrush dangling out of your mouth as you read over the text message multiple times. a squeal threatened to emerge from the back of your throat once you had finally had processed his words.
[sunghoon: ah, i guess they caught me…it’s been hard to take my eyes off such a pretty girl ~]
1K notes · View notes
chunghasweetie · 3 months
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𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐎𝐇 𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 | J.JK
— pairing | assistant!oc x flirty boss!jjk
— summary | jungkook’s assistant (you) finally admits her feelings for him
— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)
protected sex, dirty talk, cursing, praising kink, adult dialogue, work affairs
— word count | 5.0k words
— song suggestion | the party & the after party— the weeknd
“You look very nice Y/n.” He opened the door for her.
“I have the prettiest assistant in the industry.“ He bit his lip, linking arms with her as the two entered the business party together.
The two were always together. Every day for hours upon hours.
She had been working for the CEO of Jeon Industries for the past 4 years.
It was another night of being with him. This time she was accompanying him to a business party at some mansion in the east.
“Thank you Mr. Jeon.” She thanked him.
She had went all out tonight. How could she not with the amount of luxury outfits and accessories he supplied her with?
She was an ambassador on the side for many different high end fashion companies.
Dior. Prada. Chanel.
All because of Jungkook.
He always helped represent her from the start. The second he laid eyes on her, he knew she couldn’t let all her beauty go to waste.
He pushed hard for her to rep these brands, knowing well she deserved to have every opportunity out there.
She was an extremely hard worker too, sending her to anyone was a true gift.
Tonight she was dripped out in Chanel from head to toe.
She wore a vintage black and gold Chanel couture dress paired with matching gold heels.
Her entire look was priceless.
He supplied with her with everything simply because he wanted to.
Y/n was too independent from the get go, and Jungkook wanted her to understand what it’s like to be truly taken care of.
Although Y/n worked for Jungkook, she was almost on his level of fame by her success that came naturally after he got her name out there.
Many rumors speculated that she slept her way to the top but, the rumors couldn’t be more untrue.
Jungkook was obsessed with this woman.
Repeatedly asking her if she was interested in him. He was constantly offering himself out to her.
He flirted with Y/n every day. It wasn’t enough to bother her. They were comfortable enough to where she could reject him over and over.
He understood her rejections. She was afraid how others viewed her. How if they ever broke up, it could make her entire career plummet to the bottom.
His eyes roamed over her figure, taking in the way the dress hugged her curves, the way her heels made her legs seem to go on forever.
He couldn't help but let out a low whistle. “That dress really working for you. Glad I spent the money.”
“I appreciate it Mr. Jeon.” She thanked him once more.
Y/n was absolutely gorgeous and every investor and supervisor at the party turned their head when she entered with Jungkook.
He noticed the way everyone was gawking at her and he couldn't help but smirk.
He was used to this. She was a prize and knew that all too well.
Y/n was his, and his alone.
He hated how oblivious she was. She didn’t think of herself to be this powerful woman.
She thought of herself as average, which could make Jungkook grow insane.
There was no way she was serious.
“Can you feel all the eyes on you?” He whispered to her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. They’re greeting us. This is just business matters and nothing more.” She replied, straight faced.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “You're right, of course. Business first.”
He led Y/n through the crowd, making his way to the group of investors.
But as he walked, he couldn't help but place a hand on the small of her back, enough to display a slight sense of possession.
She went around with him, introducing herself as well to all of Jungkook’s business partners and potential partners.
He watched her, impressed by her confidence and grace as she charmed each and every one the important people.
“All these years and you’re still so good at talking for me.” He said, leaning in close to her so that only she could hear him.
“Of course. We’ve been doing this for years.” Y/n replied.
A small smile appeared on his lips as he imagined the number of times she must have helped him in his business ventures.
“And hopefully for more.” He muttered under his breath, before straightening up and clearing his throat.
“Can I get you anything to drink Mr. Jeon?”She offered.
He chuckled at her formality, but he couldn't help the way his heart fluttered at the sound of his title.
“Yes, please. He said, before taking a moment to decide. A glass of whiskey would be nice.” He instructed.
“Yes Sir.” Y/n nodded, walking off and requesting him a drink at the open bar.
Once his drink was finished she walked back over to him, handing his drink over.
“Go get yourself something.” He told her.
“I’m fine.”
“Go. I know you’ve been craving a glass of rosè.”
“Fine.” Y/n finally gave in, heading back over to the open bar.
Finally having her glass filled, she started to head back over to him.
Before she could start to Jungkook, she was stopped by one of the executives.
“Excuse me, Ms. Y/n was it?” He stopped her. “I was wondering if you had a minute.”
She didn’t look up, not expecting to start a conversation.
“Yes, I’m Y/n. I actually have to head back to my boss I’m sorry.” She began to walk but he stepped in front of her.
“It’ll only be a second. I’m Kim Namjoon.” The man spoke. “I just have a proposal for you.”
Her eyes flickered upwards. She locked eyes with the man, surprised someone so high up had an interest in speaking to her.
“You’re Kim Namjoon from Kim&Kim.” She rose her eyebrow. “What kind of proposal are you talking about? I’ll go get Ju—“
“This isn’t for Jungkook,” Namjoon shook his head. “It’s is for you.”
“Me?” She looked at him in confusion.
Jungkook's eyes narrowed as he watched the executive checking her out, his grip on his glass of whiskey tightening.
He downed it in one swift motion before stalking over to where she was, his eyes flashing with possessiveness.
He was watching this entire conversation go down.
“You don’t need to answer me now but,” He began. “I’m in desperate need of a new assistant. You’re one of the best assistants in the industry and I need you— bad. Whatever Jungkook is paying you, I’m offering you tripple the amount.”
Y/n stood there in utter shock. Her mouth was agape and she couldn’t say anything.
Jungkook could almost choke.
The nerve of this guy.
Jungkook's expression darkened as the man offered her the position and a much larger salary.
He could see the hesitation in her eyes as she took the card, and he couldn't help but feel a small surge of fear that he would lose her to someone else.
Maybe she was truly considering.
Jungkook was imagining everything he’d ever done with her.
Did he push her too much?
Was she overwhelmed?
Did she feel underpaid?
‘There’s no way’ He thought to himself.
“Like I said,” Namjoon was handing her his business card. “You don’t need to answer me now but, just think about it. You’ll be rich and you’ll have a lot more of those luxury companies to add to your collection.”
“Thank you for your time.” She simply nodded, biding her goodbyes before heading back to Jungkook. “Sorry that took so long.”
Jungkook watched Y/n return, his expression unreadable as he took in her words and the lingering scent of another man on her.
Namjoon’s cologne was annoyingly contagious.
He couldn't help but feel a surge of jealousy as he reached out to grab her wrist, his grip firm but gentle.
“Is there an issue Mr. Jeon?” She looked down, feeling his grip.
“Come on.” He walked her over to the balcony outside, where the two could be more secluded.
He pulled her closer, his voice low and husky as he leaned in, his breath hot against her ear.
"I think you know exactly what the issue is. It’s us.” He whispered. “I heard Namjoon.”
“What about it?”
His hand tightened around her waist, his thumb pressing into the small of her back as he held her close.
"You know damn well what I'm talking about, Y/n. That exec trying to poach you.”his voice was a low growl, laced with greed.
You weren’t for sale, why would Namjoon pull such a stunt?
Y/n sighed. “I didn’t want to be rude. So I took Namjoon’s business card.”
Jungkook's eyes flashed with irritation, but he controlled himself, not wanting to make a scene. “But you didn’t throw it away. So you’re thinking about his proposal.
“Mr. Jeon like I said, let’s keep this professional. I believe your personal feelings are getting in the way.” She replied. “I was being respectful.”
"I don't give a damn about professionalism right now, Y/n," he said, his voice strained as he struggled to keep his composure.
Her eyes widened. “Like I said, I just took the card to be respectful. I didn’t have any intention behind it.”
Jungkook's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he studied her face.
"Then why did I catch you staring at him for an uncomfortably long time?" he asked, his voice low and suspicious.
“Oh my gosh Mr. Jeon. It’s called eye contact. This really shouldn’t matter.” She grew irritated with him.
Jungkook's grip on her waist loosened, but he still didn't let go.
"It does matter to me," he said, his voice softer now. "You know I don't like it when other men look at you."
“This is a work setting Mr. Jeon. In order to do my job I must conversate with many men. Can we drop this now? Please?” She begged.
Jungkook's expression darkened a little at the sound of her calling him Mr. Jeon, but he otherwise seemed to calm down at her words.
"Fine," he said curtly, letting go of her waist and taking a step back. "Just... don’t consider his offer too much. I just— I don’t know what I’d do without you."
Y/n swallowed. “Okay Mr. Jeon.”
He reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Come on, let's get out of here," he said, his voice gentler now. "My treat.”
“But what about the business party? Shouldn’t we stay longer?” She blinked.
Jungkook shrugged. "They'll manage without us," *he said. "It's been a long day and I'm sure you're over all these people."
He reached out a hand towards her, a slightly pleading look on his face. "Please, come on.”
“Okay.” She gave in. She bid her goodbyes to whoever the two walked by as they strutted to the exit.
Jungkook smiled when she agreed and said nothing as she bid her goodbyes.
He was leading her out of the party, opening the door for her to get in the company car.
She took a seat on the other side of him, answering work emails on her phone the second she got inside.
That girl could work. She was always working.
Jungkook admired how driven she was.
"Are you hungry?" he asked, his voice low and warm. “Because I am.”
“Me too.” She nodded.
Jungkook smiled at her response. "Good," he said, before leaning close, his lips brushing against her ear.
"Because I'm taking you to the best bar in the city." His tone, though husky, gave her assurance of his sincerity. “Not letting that dress go to waste.”
“You don’t need to do that.” Y/n objected.
“I want to," Jungkook said, his eyes flicking up to finally meet hers, a serious expression on his face.
"You know I like spoiling you." He placed a gentle hand on her thigh before leaning back to give her some space.
She knew there was no point in arguing with him. “Alright.
As much as she rejected him, she didn’t mind how touchy he was with her.
Y/n definitely could admit she liked it.
Jungkook's eyes lit up at her acquiescence, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
"That's my girl," he said, his hand squeezing her thigh affectionately before releasing it to recline back in the seat. "We'll be there soon."
Once they arrived at the bar, Jungkook went around, opening the door for her as she got out of the car.
“That dress is really working for you.” He bit his lip. “Have I mentioned that?”
Y/n chuckled, walking with him inside. “You have.”
Although she was hearing these flirtatious words everyday, she couldn’t help but blush at the constant compliments from her boss.
Once they took a seat and ordered a few drinks they got to talking.
They went to discussing random business deals and even going off topic and speaking about their personal lives.
“I never thought I’d have to spend so much time with someone because of my job. I thought I would hire many men as my assistant and sectaries but you’re all I’ve ever needed.” He told her.
“I didn’t think I’d ever have the honor of working for someone so head strong and successful” She laughed. “And for these many years.”
Jungkook smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You know, you're the best assistant I could've ever asked for," he said, his hand finding its way to her thigh once more. "I don't know what I'd do without you.”
“I don’t actually know what Id do without you either. I was in such a rough spot when I got hired…” She trailed off.
Jungkook's grip on her thigh tightened, his thumb rubbing small circles on her skin.
"I'm glad I could help, even if it was just giving you a position," he said, his voice low and husky. "But it's not just about the job, is it?
“What do you mean?”
Jungkook's gaze met hers, his eyes filled with a fiery intensity. "You know what I mean," he said, his grip on her thigh tightening even more.
"I think it's more than just a boss-assistant relationship between us." He brought up once more.
“You keep saying this.” She sighed.
“I’ve built up my career Mr. Jeon. I can’t fraternitize with the one guy who could ruin my life in seconds all because we stupidly decided to date.” She shook her head.
Jungkook's grip on her thigh loosened a little, his gaze dropping to the ground.
He nodded solemnly. "I understand your concerns. I do." He paused for a moment before continuing. "But please don't think of it as stupid.”
“How can I not? Say we decide to be official. How do you think that makes me look? What if we get into an argument and I lose my job? What if someone accuses me of sleeping to get the job?” She rambled.
Jungkook's expression hardened, his jaw clenching. "I'd never let anything happen to you, do you understand that?"
He reached out, his hand cupping her cheek. "You're more than just an assistant. You're... so fucking special to me."
“I don’t know still Jungkook. This could ruin everything.”
Jungkook's gaze softened as he looked at her. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear.
"Don't worry about a thing. I'll protect you, no matter what happens." He whispered. "Let me take care of everything. Trust me."
“I—“
He interrupted. “Whatever he offered you, I’ll pay more. So much more. I’ll give you whatever the hell you want. I’ll do whatever you ask me too.”
“You don’t have to date me Y/n. I’ll stop flirting with you forever,” He continued, “Just please, don’t accept Namjoon’s proposal.”
Y/n exhaled, finally giving into him after all that time.
“I want to give us a chance.”
Jungkook’s ears perked up, the last line he’d be expecting from her.
“What?”
“I’ve always been attracted to you but I’ve pushed it all to the side so we can work as normal but— I’m wiling to try with you.”
His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest.
“You’re serious?” He was choked up, jittery from how worked up her reply made him.
“More than serious.”
“Oh Y/n you have no fucking clue how long I’ve been wanting to hear that.” He hurriedly rushed her out of the restaurant, almost pushing her into the car.
She was giggling in the backseat. Jungkook was kissing all up on her, mumbling sweet sayings into her ears.
He couldn’t believed this was real— that it all unfolded in seconds.
After asking asking and asking. She finally agreed.
She wanted to give them a try, just like he always desired.
He couldn't believe he finally had her in his arms.
The smile plastered on his face could be seen from miles away. He smiled against her skin, unable to allow it to fade.
Jungkook's hands were exploring her body as he kissed her and made his way down her neck.
He sucked on her neck, leaving a mark as he did. "Fuck, I can’t stop kissing you." He growled into her ear.
“You’re a really good kisser.” She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Can’t wait until we get to your penthouse.”
Jungkook grinned, his eyes shining with excitement. "I can't wait either." He replied.
"I'm going to show you how bad I’ve feigned you." He nibbled on her ear.
Before the couple knew it, the vehicle had already been passed security and pulled up to Jungkook’s place.
Jungkook guided her out of the backseat, helping her onto the ground.
He took hold of her, leading her into his luxurious penthouse.
He shut the door behind them and immediately pulled her into his arms, kissing her passionately.
"Finally all to myself." He murmured against her lips.
She was easily able to keep up with his demanding kisses.
He had her brain cloudy and unable to be her usual rational self.
His kisses and touches had her in a daze. She was burning for him.
“Y-Your room already. Please— I’m trying to be a lady but It’s so hard” She mumbled against his lips, almost ashamed of the words she spoke.
He had been chasing after her for years. Now they switched.
Jungkook chuckled, a deep, husky sound. "Shit baby. I didn’t think you’d get like this. I didn’t know I was this good." He boasted, nipping at her bottom lip.
"You're such a naughty girl. I’m barely doing shit and you’re already a mess." He picked her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her towards his bedroom.
She was a shy mess, embarrassed at so easily he was able to unfold her.
Her bashful expression wasn’t easy to hide, and Jungkook took notice almost instantly.
Jungkook laid her down on his bed, climbing on top of her. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about." He comforted, tenderly brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
"I love how you respond to me." He kissed her again, slow and deep.
She kissed him back eagerly, smacking her lips against his. “It’s embarrassing. I haven’t been with anyone in—“
“Years. I know.” He interrupted, chuckling. “You’ve been too busy with me.”
"Don't worry about any of that." He flipped her around, pushing her face down onto the bed.
"You're with me now." He whispered, slowly lifting up her dress.
Jungkook couldn't help but smirk at the sight of her.
“Oh look at you.” He breathed out.
Her panties were practically stuck to her pussy like glue. Her pool of wetness making a statement on her panties.
"All this and I haven’t even touched it yet." He smirked, running a finger along the seam of her panties.
"I should take these off huh baby?" He slowly pulled them down her legs.
“Gonna taste you first.” He bit his lip, examining her panties before having his eyes locked on her plump and glistening pussy. “Is that alright?”
“P-Please. Now.”
“What was that sweetheart?��� He taunted.
“Jungkook please eat it already.” She turned her head slightly to look at him, humiliated that she was so desperate for him like this.
“So needy.” He teased.
He couldn't help but smirk at her words, he wasted no time in doing as she said.
He spread her legs apart and started lavishing her pussy with his tongue.
Her body instantly retracted at the pleasure, a gasp leaving her lips.
Jungkook couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction, he continued to eat her pussy, determined to make her cum on his tongue.
He reached up with one hand and started rubbing circles aroundz
He went stupid on her pussy, licking and sucking on her clit.
“Jungkook you’re so good with your mouth.” She muttered out, barely able to speak by how distracted his tongue made her.
Jungkook looked up at her, his eyes gleaming with desire as he continued to pleasure her.
"Mmm, you're so fucking sweet." He murmured against her pussy, his tongue delving deeper into her folds. "I could eat you out all day."
“D-Don’t say that.” She swallowed, his claims made her blush even harder.
He continued to eat her out, his tongue expertly flicking over her clit as he watched her reactions. "But it's true. You're so fucking beautiful and delicious.”
“I need to make you cum over and over again.” He continued. “Until my fucking jaw snaps. You taste so fucking good it’s addicting.”
She was already feeling the pressure in her lower body build up, the orgasm rushing through her.
“Jungkook I’m close.” She whined.
“Let go baby.” He continued working her pussy. “All over my mouth.”
It didn’t take long for her to do so, thighs clenching together before releasing herself all over his tongue.
Jungkook groaned against her as he tasted her, sucking and licking up every last drop.
"Fuck." He looked down at her with a satisfied grin. "I think I'll have to make you cum every day now. I seriously can’t get enough of this shit.”
Jungkook helped her get into a more comfortable position, allowing her arched back to rest.
She took initiative, eagerly kissed him the second he looked away.
He couldn’t help but smirk into her mouth, his tongue slipping into her mouth to taste herself.
Not that it would stop her.
He pulled back and looked down at her again. “You’re a lot dirtier than I thought Ms. Y/n.” He chuckled.
“I just didn’t realize how much— how bad— I needed you.” She admitted.
"You needed me?" Jungkook asked, his voice low and husky.
He reached up to brush a strand of hair out of her face, his fingers grazing her cheek.
"You're mine now, aren't you? You need me to take care of you? I’ll do just that.” He pecked her lips.
He got up from the bed, walking over to his large closet.
He searched an empty shoebox, before finding what he needed.
He strides back over to his bed. “Condom. Just forgot.” He pecked her lips once more.
“Need you missionary tonight baby. I’m trying to be a gentleman.” He smiled smugly.
She didn’t say anything, slithering the condom from his fingertips.
She maintained eye contact with him, tearing the package open with her teeth.
“May I?” She placed her hands on his belt buckle, “Please.”
“Fuck. You’re gonna make this so hard.” He cussed. “Put it on.”
She hurriedly unbuckled his belt, sliding his pants down and pulling out his cock from his boxers.
She gasped.
It caught her so off guard. She didn’t think he looked like that at all.
Now she knew why he talked a big game about his dick.
The boasting and bragging finally made sense to her.
“You okay?” He chuckled. “Just noticed the rumors were true hm?”
She nodded quietly.
“It’s all yours Y/n.” He hummed. “Slip it on. I’m aching right now.”
She nodded, snapping out of her trance. She slid the thin material onto his length, trying to hide the enthusiasm displayed on her face.
Once the condom fit comfortably on his dick, he laid the girl on her back.
He positioned himself between her legs, double checking her comfort before his own.
She looked up, staring at him hovering over her. She had a blush spread across her cheeks. “I’m loving the view right now.”
Jungkook chuckled, pleased by her admiring gaze. "I'm glad you finally like what you see, baby.”
“But I definitely have the better view. You're gorgeous, all flushed and spread out for me." He hummed.
She giggled in response, too flushed to continue.
Jungkook grinned and slowly pushed inside her, savoring the tight heat enveloping his cock.
“Oh fuck,” He cussed, not expecting her to be so tight after what he already did to her.
“Fuck, you feel amazing." He started to move, thrusting steadily in and out of her. "So wet and tight for me... shit I can’t think.”
He was finally inside of her and she felt even better that he had ever imagined. He fit inside her like a missing puzzle piece.
“Fuck Jungkook.” She whispered out his name, still adjusting to him.
“Y/n... fuck... so good..." He panted, his eyes locked on hers as he started to move more urgently, driven by the intense pleasure of finally being deep inside her.
"You were made for me, weren't you? This sweet pussy, it's mine now. Isn’t it Y/n?” He panted.
“Mm fuck- all yours Jungkook” She nodded vigorously. “Shit that’s good.”
Jungkook groaned, feeling her tighten around him even more. "That's it, baby, take my cock... milk it."
He pistoned into her harder and faster, the bed creaking with the force of their movements. "You love this dick, do you baby?“
”Y-Yes I-I do” She swallowed, body working up a sweat at the heat.
“Such a pretty girl. Had to beat my dick to the idea of this for years.” Jungkook growled, his grip on her hips tightening as he drove into her harder and faster.
"You make it so worth it. So fucking worth it." He went on.
“Jungkook you’re making me feel so good— never had dick like this” She hiccuped.
Jungkook smirked, his hands running up and down her body possessively. "Gonna get dick like this for the rest of your fucking life."
He grunted, thrusting deeper. "No other man will ever touch you like I do, make you cum like I do.”
She was in a crazed and corrupt state of mind.
It’s like he hit the right spots instantly.
“Shit.” She cussed, knowing damn well he was right.
He fucked her so good she probably wouldn’t be able to get the same sensation from anyone but him.
“So hard to fuck you like a gentleman.” He began, “Shits too fucking hard.”
“No one fucking told you to.” She growled, “Need more. I don’t care how you do it.”
Jungkook chuckled, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Not at all?”
“Not at all.” She bit her lip, smirking.
He easily noticed the glimmer in her eyes when she agreed, and he knew just where to go from there.
His dirty words were ones out of a romance novel. She didn’t even know real men even acted like this.
She didn’t complain.
He worshipped her body in no way she thought anyone could.
When she became devoted to being single, she thought her vibrator could be the only thing to ever make her cum.
Now she knew she was wrong.
And to throw that shit away.
"Such a dirty girl. All mine." His hand reached down to squeeze her throat in a dominant gesture, knowing she liked it. "You take dick so well babe."
“All for you.” She answered. She didn’t realize how easy it would be for him to turn her out but she wasn’t complaining.
"My girl." He praised, rewarding her with a particularly hard thrust that made her gasp.
"Now come for me baby. I’m fucking close and I need you to cum with me." His hand slid between their bodies to rub her clit, determined to make her cum on his cock too.
“Can you feel how close I am?” He almost let out a whimper in her ear. “I’m so lost inside you.”
“Y-Yes.” She replied to the lewd plea, “Mm close too”
“I feel it pretty girl I feel it.” His voice soothed her. “Shit shit”
He fucked her good until he could feel her orgasm reach its peak.
Soon after he quickly pulled out, cumming on her stomach.
He collapsed right beside of her, panting and cussing as he tried to catch his breath.
Jungkook lay beside her, still trying to catch his breath as he stared at the sight of her cum-covered stomach.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he said in a rough voice.
Jungkook got up, wiping himself off before returning to the bed with a warm towel.
He gently cleaned her up, taking his time to ensure he didn't miss a spot.
He used the rest of his energy to clean her up.
Once done, he tossed the towel aside and laid back down beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist.
She pecked his cheeks and lips happily and satisfied. “So much for trying to be cute and romantic tonight.”
Jungook chuckled and pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"We'll have plenty of time for romance later, babe," He laughed. “Isn’t it better for us to get comfortable like this now? You already know everything about me.”
“That’s true.”
“I thought I knew everything about you.” He stared into her.
“What do you mean?” She furrowed her eyebrows.
“I didn’t know you were a fucking freak!” He laughed. “All conservative and shy… You’re a fake. You’re a fucking sex maniac I’m appalled.”
He put his hand on his chest. “You had me fooled.”
“Oh my gosh.” She rolled her eyes.
“Don’t give me that. I’m not the fake. I’m very open with how I am.” He shook his head.
“I hate you.”
“No. You like me.” A stupid grin was spread on his face. “Finally.”
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obsessivevoidkitten · 2 months
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Ghosted
Male Jock Yandere Ghost x Gender Neutral Nerd Ghost Reader
CW: Reader death, ghosts, spirit world, manipulative yandere, stalking, general yandere behavior, consensual sex
Word Count: 801
(Trying to get back into the habit of writing, this is the result, hope you like it! I consider a demented ghost as still being a monster and therefore still teratophilia.)
You had died in college. One moment, you were being your nerdy self, rummaging through your binder, and the next, you were on the ground. You didn't really remember much, all very fuzzy. Was it a stroke? A brain aneurysm? You had no idea.
Once you were brain dead, though, you stepped from your body and appeared on the ghostly plane. A fog filled realm that somewhat mirrored the world of the living. Though spirits could make alterations, there were spaces untouched by the activities of the still living. 
There were a lot of ghosts. Many of them wandered aimlessly or were stuck in a loop of denial, acting out behaviors as if they were still alive. Others lashed aggressively, unable to regain their grip on their sanity. 
You mostly kept to yourself. Like Jonesy taught you. He was a former jock about your age when he died in the late 80s. He still wore his letterman jacket. You weren't limited to the clothes you died in, but you figured it was a symbol of how he was still attached to his old life.
Jonesy had taught you a lot of things. He had pretty much been your mentor since you had died. He was there waiting when you passed. He said he had sensed someone might die as he was wandering the halls of the college, where he had also died years ago. 
Jonesy said he was stuck in a loop. Being alone had made him lose his mental stability. But when he sensed you were about to die, it snapped him out of it. He said you saved him, so he wanted to get to know you and help you navigate the land of the dead. 
Plus, being together would help prevent the two of you from getting mentally frail. 
It was a bit of a paradox. Jonesy taught you to avoid most spirits, but communication and relationships were essential to staying sane. 
"You just have to know the right types to befriend. Many of the people here have a darkness in them and can drag you down if you're not careful."
He also told you the other secret to remaining stable. 
"You have to keep busy, do stuff. Don't get too bored."
There was a surprising amount you could do as a ghost. You could go to stores and yoink whatever you wanted, eat whatever you wanted, play video games, there was even a ghost version of the internet! 
Getting infinite free popcorn at the movies was your favorite thing. Jonesy always did that lame pretend yawn thing that ended with his arm wrapped around you. It was nice, though. Made you feel safe. You had been touch starved in life.
The transition to him being your boyfriend was so seemless and natural that you barely noticed that it had happened. You had never stopped any of his advances. Cuddling you, holding you, and smooching your cheek.
You didn't even question it when chaste kisses led to him kissing you hungrily before carefully taking off your clothing, like he was removing the wrapping from something delicate. 
Soon you found yourself laying ass up on his bed with him pounding into you, drinking in all your lusty moans and unabashed calling of his name.
He gripped your hips firmly as he came deeply into you; the pleasure made you see stars. His girthy cock stretched you wonderfully. You felt so lucky and special that this jock spirit had taken an interest in you, a lowly nerd.
Jonesy felt lucky too. He hadn't been in a loop. For a year before your death, he had been haunting you, It was difficult to peek into the living world, but once he found you, he was addicted. 
He loved watching you read books, study, and watch anime. He especially loved watching you shower, fervently jerking hinself off as he did so. 
It wasn't enough though. He needed to have you with him! You had been so perfect for him. You were kindred souls in a way. You were always alone and starved for attention. You'd fall for his affections easily, and you wouldn't just crossover beyond the purgatory the two of you were now in, you were too depressed for that.
Influencing people who were still alive was nearly impossible, but decades of being alone had made Jonesy angry and bitter. He used those emotions as fuel and tried many times to trip you down the stairs or get you to stroll into traffic absentmindedly. Finally, the jock was successful in busting something in your head.
At long last, you were with him. As he held you tightly, after making love several more times, he knew he'd be able to keep you there forever and he'd never have to be alone again. 
1K notes · View notes
reidsfilm · 2 months
Text
𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 — SIMON RILEY
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PARING: simon ''ghost'' riley x !fem reader
WARNINGS: SMUT!! (18+) pure filth, p in v, (wrap it up folks) unprotected sex, praise, petnames; bug, good girl, pretty girl etc, swearing, hair pulling, soft!dom ghost, oral (male receiving) aftercare. no use of y/n. simon being needy and desperate. slight dom! reader for a bit, creampie, cum eating, fluff.
SUMMARY: You and Simon were just casual until one day you weren't.
WORD COUNT : 6,3k
Notes: I wish fictional men were real. WHY AREN'T THEY!! not proofread.
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Simon was never supposed to let anyone close, to let his whole stoic and brooding facade be weakened. He was a hard man, the years spent in the military have shaped him into something unbreakable.
Until you.
It was only supposed to be casual, shared cigarettes after a mission, and small chats, which led to numerous times spent in his barracks, his cock spearing you open each time. But you longed for it, to feel him against you, his praises and degrading words in your ear, his large scarred hands mapping out every inch of your body. His mouth caressing against your own. You'd never felt like this with anyone else, no other man has been able to bring you to this kind of ecstasy.
But this was only supposed to be casual. You weren't supposed to catch feelings, and neither was he. But you both knew you couldn't ignore them whenever you slept together. Or whenever you shared conversations about each other's past. Though you were more open about it than Simon, which was fair— you weren't going to force anything out of the man.
You knew how Simon worked, and vulnerability was a sight you did not often see whenever you were around the man. He was the most intriguing person you had ever met, and it only made you ever the more interested in him, and you knew you were in love with him.
But being just casual turned into something much more, though neither of you voiced your thoughts about it. Fleeting touches, eating together, and passing glances in the base hallway. It even went as far as her stopping using his callsign 'Ghost' and instead calling him Simon.
It was purely a slip-up once, and you had quickly apologized, though he was quick to say he didn't mind you using his real name. Because he didn't mind— at all. He liked the way his name sounded on your lips and was slowly itching to hear you say his name more, his name sounding sweet and like it was dipped in honey when it came out of your lips.
Your head lay on his chest, tracing shapes against his stomach as the two of you lay together in his bed, naked limbs tangled together. Smoke filled the room as Simon took another drag from his cigarette.
''You're quiet, what are you thinking about?'' You questioned, being met with silence from Simon. ''Simon?'' You moved your head so you could see his face, ''Us.'' Was all he said and your brows furrowed.
You sat up, the duvet slipping off down to your lap, exposing your naked upper body. Your chest was covered in love bites — something Simon had started doing more, like he was claiming you as his. Your breasts were full and supple and they moved when you turned to look at him.
''What are you thinking about that includes us?'' You questioned softly as you snatched the cigarette from his fingers, giving him a sly smile before taking a drag. ''You gonna cut me off?''
''Am I not good enough at giving head? Is that it? Or is it my lack of… experience?'' You questioned in a joking tone, though you were a little weary about what he had meant.
Simon takes the cigarette back from you. The filter is wet from your lips, something he quickly takes notice of. His eyes move up slowly, admiring your body before returning to your face. A small smile quirks up his lips at your cheeky question.
''You’ve never had complaints about either,'' he quips back with a smirk. ''And you’ll never hear one from me. Your mouth is good,'' he murmurs and brings the cigarette to his lips.
You hummed as you lifted the duvet off of your body before you straddled his hips. You once more took the cigarette from him, a teasing and taunting glint in your eyes as you giggled. ''Oh, is it good? Maybe I should practice on more men to get more opinions.'' You joked lightly as you stared down at him, though a dark look came across Simon's face at your words.
''I’m just joking. The only cock I want is yours.’’ You purred softly you traced your fingers over his stomach and up to his chest.
A sudden, irrational thought of your pretty, plump mouth wrapped around someone else's cock causes him to get angry in a flash.
He grabs your wrist, the cigarette nearly falling out of your hand as Simon suddenly sits up. His other hand grabs your jaw and his gaze locks with yours.
There’s a possessive, cold look in his eyes.
''You’re mine,'' he growls. ''Only mine.''
''I'm yours, baby,’’ You muttered softly as you looked at him, your eyes piercing through his dark ones. You used your free hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart. Before you reached over to the nightstand to put the cigarette out into the ashtray.
''The only man who can make me climax five times in a row is you.’’ You purred as you looked at him, caressing his chest. You felt his cock poking at your inner thigh, and you looked at Simon with a raised brow.
''Is the little man excited?’’ You questioned with a small giggle.
Your soft hand caressing over his chest helps to ease his possessive anger and Simon lets out a slow breath. He’s still simmering with jealousy but he can keep a handle on it now.
Simon looks down between their bodies and notes how his growing erection is pressing against you through the blanket. He leans forward and his breath tickles your ear as he replies with a low grumble.
''He gets excited just from you talking, love.''
You raised an eyebrow as you cocked her head to the side. ''Yeah? Is that so? Maybe I should give him some attention.'' You purred as your hand slipped down his chest, towards his stomach, and under the blanket, grabbing a firm hold of him and making Simon growl at your touch. ''Oh... he's hard as a rock. Poor baby.'' You cooed softly as you used your free hand to caress his jawline.
Simon's eyes close as you cup his throbbing cock in your hand. His hands grab your hips and he bites back a groan. Your touch sets his nerves on fire and your words fan the flames.
''Keep talking like that, love, and he’ll be coming very soon.''
''Yeah? Best get him inside me before that then.’’ You teased as you chucked the duvet off and to the side of the bed, exposing you both fully. You lifted your hips before situating yourself over his weeping cock, before slowly sinking down.
A soft moan slipped from your lips as you sunk down on him completely. ''Fuck… making me feel so full.'' You whimpered as you clutched onto his shoulders.
Simon moaned as your walls hugged him tightly and wrapped around his cock. ''So tight,'' he muttered huskily. ''And so perfect. This cunt was made for me.''
His hands grabbed your hips as you started riding him. The feeling was pure ecstasy. He’d never felt this way with anyone. You were unlike anyone before you. He was addicted. Addicted to you. Addicted to the way you felt.
''Bug...'' his voice was rough and his heart raced. He was falling in love with you without even meaning to.
Bug, the nickname used to carry mockery, now only served to make your stomach flutter. Simon had given you the nickname long before you became close because you irritated him— like a bug. A bug who always followed after him, ready to bite and latch onto him. You hated it at first, but now you couldn't help but find it endearing as it came from his mouth.
''Si…'' You whimpered as you clutched onto his shoulders, rocking your hips back and forth as you threw your head back in pure pleasure. Your breasts bounced at your movements, and your mouth opened and closed as your eyes shut. The feeling of having him inside you was heaven itself.
You had denied your feelings for him for way too long, but uncertain that Simon probably only wanted to continue your sex with no strings attached. But this moment brought your feelings up to the surface like an explosion.
The sounds of your flesh coming together filled the room. Simon was entranced by the sight of you riding him. He always was, it was like watching an angel.
His breathing was hitched and his grip on your hips was harder than it should have been. Most likely going to leave marks, but neither of you seemed to care.
He was falling for you. He wanted you. All of you. But he didn’t know how to say it without screwing everything up.
''You feel so good..'' he murmured between pants. ''So good for me.''
''You're the one that makes me feel good..'' You said between breaths as you continued to ride him, your hips rocking against him as you chased that high — that pure heavenly feeling you craved.
''Only one that makes me feel this good… just you... s'only you.'' You rambled on sweetly as you captured his lips in a searing kiss — an I am so fucking in love with you kiss.
One of your hands left his shoulder and instead gripped the back of his nape as your fingers threaded through his hair. ''I… I love you..''
You couldn't help the words from slipping from your lips as your mouth was against his. You had to let him know how you felt, how he made you feel. You weren't regretting it, not a bit.
Your declaration of love hits him like a truck. His heart raced and his blood pumped loudly in his ears. He had never been confessed to before. Never had anyone uttered those words to him. But he would only fool himself if he didn't admit it made him ecstatic.
He held your hips tightly as you rode him, his heart swelling at your soft words. His fingers dug into your skin as he kissed her back, filled with a sudden desperation to stay closer. To have all of you.
“I love you, bug...” he groaned as he panted against your lips.
He loved you— he actually loved you too. And your heart couldn't help but swell at the declaration. Only making your head feel all the more fuzzier.
''Mhm… I love you more.'' You muttered against his lips, your eyes locked as your hips ground against his, as his own hips pistons against your own. Your lips teasingly mingled close, your breaths hitting each other’s face. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers trailing softly against his back.
His cock twitched inside of you, making it known he was close.
Simon's heart pounded against his chest as you confessed your love for him again. He would never tire of hearing those words, never tire of looking into your eyes, and never tire of your sweet body against his.
He kissed you again, his fingers squeezing into your skin. He wanted to hold you to his chest and never let you go. Wanted to shield you from everything. He never wanted to leave your side. Simon wanted to be your man.
''Bug…'' he muttered. ''M'close, I'm close…'' Your walls clamped around him, squeezing his cock and making him groan.
''I know… I’m close too. Want you to fill me up. Make me yours, body and soul.'' You muttered as your breasts were squashed against his chest. Your pace quickened as one of Simon's hands held your hips while the other gripped the globe of your ass, groping and squeezing the flesh.
''You think I’d look good pregnant?'' You questioned as you rode him.
The thought just slipped into your mind, and the idea of being full and round with Simon's child did sound enticing.
Simon groaned as he heard those words. The idea of you bearing his child made a possessive thrill shoot through him and a feral growl tore itself from his lips. He held onto your hips tightly as his climax approached.
He’d never considered having children before, never cared for the thought. But the idea of you carrying his baby made him excited.
Happy.
You’d look gorgeous..'' he grunted as his thrusts grew more erratic. ''Would you let me give you my baby?'' He questioned as he panted.
''Yes… want to be filled with your cum and carry your child.'' You whined softly as you grew more tired of rocking your hips. Simon noticed and took charge, flipping you over so he hovered over you, before plunging back inside and making your back arch.
Simon settled between her spread thighs as he continued to plunge into her. Your words made his blood pound in his ears and his heart beat fiercely against his chest.
He would fill you up. Knock you up. Claim you as his.
Simon kissed you and whispered sweet nothings against your lips. ''Are you on birth control, bug?''
''Would you be mad if I said no? I have no intention of trapping you, unwillingly.'' You gasped as you scratched at his back, your breasts pressing up against his chest when you arched your back. Your pussy fluttered around his cock, feeling the familiar coil in your stomach hanging on by a thin thread.
Simon shook his head and peppered your neck with kisses. ''I want you to be mine,'' he growled. ''I'm yours. You're mine. I want to give you a baby.''
He pressed his forehead against yours, his thrusts slowing to languid but deep rolls of his hips. His breathing was labored as he panted, on edge but trying to draw out the pleasure.
''I won't pull out when I finish,'' he warned. ''I want you to get pregnant. Is that alright with you, love?''
''Yes… yes, I want that. Fill me up, paint my walls white.'' You moaned as he thrust into you, feeling your walls clamping around him as he twitched. You felt your climax nearing its peak, and you knew Simon was close too, by his movement increasing and the sound of your skin smacking against each other.
His balls slapping up against the underside of your ass.
Simon continued to slowly roll his hips, trying to hold out and not finish too soon. He wanted to make you finish first.
One of his hands grabbed your jaw and he turned your head so you would focus on him. His hazel eyes were heavy-lidded, his breath leaving him in heavy gasps, and his face flushed.
''You gonna cum for me, love?'' The pad of his finger rubs over your bottom lip. ''This cute little cunt takes me so well. ''Gonna cum on my cock, hm?
You nodded as you looked up at him, your eyes locked with his hazel eyes. The coil in your stomach was at a breaking point and before you knew it your orgasm came washing over you. ''Si...fuck... so good.''' You babbled as your juices coated around his cock, dripping out from your sopping pussy.
You arched your back more as you let out a wanton and loud moan, the sound bouncing off the walls as you buried your head in the pillows, your eyes rolling back in sheer delight.
Your orgasm triggered his own and he groaned out loud, his hips snapping forward as you came deep inside you. His cum spurts into you and as promised, coats your gummy walls white.
His orgasm tore through him powerfully and he could only manage to hold himself up by his elbow before he collapsed onto your body. He buried his head in the junction between your neck and shoulder and caught his breath against your skin.
You had never felt so blissed out and spent before. Sure, the other times you two had sex, it was good. But in those times you were only fucking for your own pleasures. But this was on a whole other level, this was to people who were deeply in love and connected to each other, making love.
''Fuck… mhm…'' You breathed out as you came down from your high. Your body twitched and writhed underneath him, as Simon was still buried inside you. He sat up and pulled out, making you whine as some of his cum spurted out onto your lower stomach.
You stared up at him and watched as he panted.
You watched the muscles in his body contract and his large cock growing soft against his stomach. His cum dribbled down out of your puffy hole, staining the sheets.
Simon looked down where his cum had leaked out of you and groaned at the display.
The sight of you covered in his cum did something to him. Made his possessive instincts flare up. You were marked by him and he liked it. He thoroughly enjoyed seeing you like this.
''Look at you. This pretty little cunt and stomach, covered in my cum.'' He muttered as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. ''Lay still. I want you… messy and reeking of me.''
You whined as he kissed your cheek then your forehead and lastly your lips. He chuckled softly at your whine before leaning over to open a drawer and taking out a Polaroid camera. ''You gonna take a picture of me like this?'' You questioned, your words so soft and almost a mere whisper as you stared up at him.
Your thighs were still quite shaky, a thin layer of sweat covered your naked skin. Your chest heaved as you breathed.
Simon looked down at you with a smirk, his eyes dark with desire just from the sight of you. God, you were perfect.
''How did you know?'' He murmurs, snapping a picture. He watched as it developed in his hand and another smirk tugged at his lips.
''God, you know how to make a man feral.'' He looked down at the picture, with your legs spread wide, your cheeks flushed and your half-lidded eyes looking up at the camera. His cum covering your stomach and leaking out of your pussy.
''Yeah?’'' You questioned as you sat up, taking a tissue and wiping your stomach clean. ''I want you to use me…'' You muttered as you crawled over to the edge of the bed. Simon growled as he watched you, giving your ass a soft smack.
You got down onto the floor, settling on your knees, as you looked over at him. You licked at your lips, your eyes gleaming. ''Please?''
''Bug, we gotta get you cleaned up first.'' He spoke as he neared the edge of the bed, settling down on it with his legs spread. His cock which was soft slowly stirring back to life again. You licked your lips again at the sight.
''Later, I want to make you feel good. Wanna be a good girl for you.'' You stared up at him, wide doe eyes piercing into his hazel eyes. Simon stared down at you, and god did you look good on your knees, all for him.
He leaned down on the edge of the bed and his hands reached out to cup her face. ''Are you sure?'' he asked softly, his thumb stroking the flesh of your cheek.
He wasn’t going to push you to do anything you didn’t want to. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable or push your boundaries. You were the one in control, and Simon would let you do anything you wanted, he just needed to hear you say it.
''I want to mouth on you.'' You purred as you nuzzled your cheek against his thumb, You shifted closer to his spread legs, your lips salivating at the sight before you.
His cock was thick, veins sticking out here and there. And his cockhead was the same color as his pretty lips.
Simon stared down at her, his pulse quickening as anticipation coursed through his veins.
''Baby...'' he whispered as he watched you press closer, his eyes dark with lust and need. The pet name came out of his mouth before he had even registered it, but you seemed to like it as you shuffled closer.
His hand threaded itself into your hair, his fingers clenching in your locks. ''You’re going to be the death of me, you know that, don't you? You're going to be my undoing.''
His other hand came to rest on your shoulder, his thumb tracing the skin tenderly.
His eyes watched your every movement, his gaze hot and heavy. It always amazed him how someone so innocent could look so sinful at the same time.
He gently tugged on your hair, his breath coming in soft pants. ''Go on, love. Stop staring at me like that, I might just cum from that look alone.''
You shifted a bit closer until you were between his spread knees. You were a sight to behold, sitting on your knees looking so pretty.
''Mmm... I’m just taking my time.'' you purred before leaning forward to run the tip of your tongue along the underside of his shaft.
''You like that, right?'' you whispered, your tongue still tracing his cock.
You could feel him straining, could see him twitch. Your gaze never left his. Your hand reached out and wrapped around him, pumping slowly. She watched as his eyes fluttered closed and he groaned, his fingers tightening in your hair. ''Bloody hell..'' he muttered huskily.
''Mmm.. seems like I’m doing a good job so far then,'' you said quietly, your thumb rubbing at the crown.
''I’m just getting started though.''
You began to pepper his cock with kisses, starting up at the underside all the way to the head before making your way back down.
You swirled your tongue around the flared head, He groaned again, louder this time. You gave the head small kitten licks.
''You’re being cruel, love.'' he bit out in a strained voice. ''Stop teasing me. Please.''
It wasn't often you found yourself hearing Simon beg. It was a rare occurrence. Usually, he'd just take what he wanted from you, forcing your mouth down on his cock and making you gag on it until you were crying. But now he was begging, pleading for you to give him more.
To have your lips wrap around him.
You smirked, your eyes filled with mischief. ''I’m not teasing you. I’m just giving you attention.''
You kept up with the kitten licks, purposely avoiding taking him into your mouth. ''You're fucking evil you know that, love?'' Simon groaned as he let his head loll back, eyes closed, his breath coming in short.
''Just give me that mouth of yours like a good girl, please.''
There it was again, that desperate tone of voice. It made you wanna hold back even more, have him completely and utterly under your control.
You chuckled at this. ''Impatient, Lieutenant?'' you questioned, knowing you were winding him up.
''Maybe I’ll just keep up this slow, torturous pace until you’re begging me to let you come.''
He growled angrily at her response. ''You've got a mouth on ya, don't you love?''
He pulled your hair, forcing your head back so he could look you in the eyes. ''You’re really going to make me beg, hm? Are you getting off on this, love? Is this making your pussy all creamy, hm?'' His tone was condescending, but it only seemed to further spur you on.
Having Simon who was a hard nut to crack, at her beck and call. Yeah, it felt damn fucking good.
''Maybe I am,'' you said confidently. ''Maybe I’m loving the thought of you at my mercy for once.''
His grip on your hair tightened, tugging again and making a small gasp slip from your lips. He hated being desperate. But he hated being at someone's mercy even more.
He let out a frustrated huff, his body shuddering involuntarily as your breath ghosted over his skin. ''You want me to beg? Then I’ll beg. I’ll do whatever you want, just give me those lips, love.''
He found himself almost wincing at how pathetic he sounded.
You hummed in response, your gaze shifting between his face and the straining cock poking you in the cheek. You let out a soft, fake sigh, a smirk still on your lips, and you looked up at him.
''Poor Lieutenant Riley. So desperate for my lips around his cock.''
''Yes.'' he bit out. ''Now be a good girl and give me your pretty mouth, please.''
Simon hated the way his voice wavered. How eager it sounded, how needy it sounded.
''Well, since you asked so nicely,” You said and finally, and finally, you took him into your mouth, a soft moan leaving you.
You began to bob your head as your tongue stroked the underside, your eyes still locked on his. ''That’s it, love. Just like that.''
Simon groaned as your tongue worked him. He watched you, his eyes darkened by lust.
''Christ. Your mouth feels so good. This mouth was made for my fuckin cock.''
You hummed, the noise sending pleasant vibrations through him, the sound only encouraging you more. One of your hands started to fondle his balls, your fingers applying a gentle but firm pressure.
Your free hand settled on his stomach, your fingers tracing patterns into his skin.
Simon groaned loudly, his head rolling back briefly. Your hand on his stomach was both soothing and arousing, your touch soft but firm.
He wanted so badly to push your head down and thrust into your warm, wet mouth but he held back, digging his fingers into your scalp.
''That’s it, love. You’re so good. So good for me. Just a little bit more. You can take it, I know you can.''
You kept up your pace, your mouth and tongue working diligently. You could feel the muscles in his cock tense under your touch, could hear his breathing start to become labored.
You could tell he was getting close, could feel his pulse fluttering against your tongue, and you were determined to get him over the edge.
Simon's breaths grew shallower, his body tense and quivering. The hand in your hair tightened his grip firm but not painful.
''Bloody fuckin hell. I’m close, love.'' he groaned. ''I'm gonna come. And you’re going to swallow every drop, understand?''
You looked up at him with hooded eyes and a full mouth, giving him a hum of acknowledgment. Your hand moved from his stomach to his thigh, digging your nails into the skin there, wanting to mark him in any way you could.
Your eyes started to water, feeling your jaw growing tense.
Simon's eyes darkened almost feral. ''You're taking me so well. Yeah, just like that, pretty thing.''
His free hand reached out and caught a tear that slipped free, his thumb tracing the trail it left. He couldn’t deny the way his heart twisted at the sight, how it both aroused him and made him feel guilty.
You whimpered around him as he so gently caught your tears, the look in his eyes and the feel of his hands on your skin making you lightheaded.
''You look beautiful like that.''
''You’re doing so well, love. Just a little bit more, okay?'' he muttered, feeling himself growing closer to the edge.
''So good for me, aren’t you?'' He continued to praise you, and they went straight to your pussy. His praises never failed to make your head feel fuzzy and mushed.
You hummed in response, your body shuddering as the sound vibrated through him. You could feel his cock swelling in your mouth, knowing he was close.
Your nails dug into his skin hard enough that he knew she would leave marks. He wanted you to, wanted something to show how much he was yours.
''So close, love. Just a little more.''
His hips began to jerk involuntarily, seeking that release he needed. His muscles were coiled tight with anticipation and his breaths were little more than pants now.
He was so close, teetering on the edge. His head was reeling, his eyes only half open and his heart rate spiked. And with one last swipe of your tongue, he came, your name leaving his lips like a choked whimper. He trembled with the force of it, his body twitching as waves of pleasure wracked through him.
His cum spurted into your mouth and you didn't waste a second on swallowing, lapping it all up like a starved person.
Simon's hand gripped your hair weakly at first, before gathering a fistful of it. He let his head loll back, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
''Christ,'' He muttered as he felt your tongue clean him gently. He was dazed and reeling, his mind fuzzy with pleasure and his body heavy.
He glanced down at you, his eyes raking over you, taking in her appearance. Your messy hair, your tear-streaked cheeks, your flushed and sweaty skin. You were a beautiful mess and it was a sight he would never forget.
His hand in your hair loosened, before gently scratching at your scalp as he slowly came down from his high. Once his breaths started to even out he gently tugged on your hair, signaling for you to come up.
''Come here, love,'' he said, his voice still gruff and raspy.
His hand in your hair encouraged you up to a standing position and he immediately tugged you into his lap, straddling his thighs.
He cupped the sides of your face with both hands, his thumbs gently wiping away your remaining tears.
He took you in, his eyes roving over your face, noting the tear tracks and his chest ached. You were gorgeous like this, but it also hurt seeing you like this, being the one to make you cry.
''You did so well for me, love,'' he said softly, his tone warm and tender. ''You have no idea how beautiful you are like this, do you?''
You buried your head against his shoulder, a whine leaving your lips at his words as you nuzzled against him. His hand went into her hair, caressing the back of her head. ''My pretty girl, did so good. Such a good girl.''
His hands moved down to your hips, holding them in a firm but gentle grip. ''Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,'' he murmured.
You gave a small nod, still feeling a bit dazed. You felt weak in the knees, your body shaky and sensitive.
''Okay,'' you whispered, your voice soft and a bit hoarse.
Simon gently lifted you up, shifting your weight so he could stand comfortably. He made a mental note to go get some water for your throat later.
He took you into the bathroom, setting you down on the edge of the sink and standing in front of you.
He started to gently clean you up, using a warm, damp cloth to wipe away the tear tracks on your cheeks and the sticky cum on your inner thighs and folds. You hissed at the feeling, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his chest. ''I know baby, shh, I know you're sensitive.'' You only whined once more in response.
He was gentle and meticulous, taking care of you as though you were a fragile doll. His touch was tender and affectionate, his usually cold eyes soft. And you were a fragile doll, to him.
Once he had cleaned her up to his satisfaction, Ghost picked her up and carried her back to the bedroom. ''Let's get ya back to bed.'' He took you over to the bed and gently laid you down, his actions and his eyes tender.
He got in beside you, pulling the covers over them and wrapping an arm around you. He pulled you against him so your back was flush with his chest, his large form surrounding her in a protective embrace.
"You alright, love?" he murmured, gently nuzzling his face into the back of your neck. Simon was feeling surprisingly tender now, the weight of his emotions bearing down on him.
You let out a small hum of contentment, feeling safe and warm in his embrace. Despite the slight soreness between your legs, you were feeling relaxed and at ease.
"Yeah, I'm good," you whispered, snuggling back against him.
''You sure?'' he asked, his voice still gruff but soft. His arm tightened around you, holding you closer. He always got a bit more protective and attentive after sex. It was a habit he couldn’t seem to break, and nor did he want to.
"Yeah, I’m sure," you replied, your eyes closing at the feeling of being so close to him. You reached up and put your hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I feel good. A bit sore, but good,” you admitted a small chuckle leaving you. There would never come a day where you complained about Simon leaving your pussy sore and bruised. Ever.
He hummed, placing a kiss on your shoulder. ''Good,'' he said, a hint of possessiveness in his voice.
You felt a pang of concern for him, knowing how closed off and reserved he could be about his emotions.
''Are you good?'' you asked softly, rolling over in his arms so you were facing him. Simon took a moment to answer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at you. Finally, he gave a short nod. ''Yeah, love. I'm good,'' he said, his voice gruff and low.
You watched him closely, your eyes searching his. There was something in his expression that made you hesitate, afraid of what his answer might be.
''Did you mean it when you said you loved me?'' You asked, your voice quiet and soft. Your eyes roamed over his face, taking in the faint white scars and the faint freckles on his cheeks and nose.
His eyes darkened momentarily, and he was silent for a moment.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low and gruff. ''Yeah. I meant it.''
The weight of his words hit you, and you felt your heart flutter. You knew he wasn’t one to voice his feelings often, so for him to say that he loved you…it was huge.
''Okay,'' you said, your voice cracking slightly. ''Okay.''
You burrowed into his chest, burying your face in his chest hair. Simon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. He could feel you trembling slightly, but he didn’t comment on it. He knew you were probably trying to process his words.
He let his hands gently stroke your hair, his movements slow and soothing.
As you clung to him, Simon's mind started to wander. It bothered him, that nagging uncertainty. He needed to hear you say it too.
His chest felt tight with the words, and his heart was racing, but he needed to know if this was real, if you loved him too.
''Bug,'' he murmured, his voice thick. ''Did you mean it when you said you loved me, too?''
You let out a shaky breath, your heart skipping a beat at his question. You had said it in the heat of the moment, driven by passion and pleasure, but now…now it felt huge and overwhelming.
You took a moment to gather her thoughts, her fingers tracing small patterns on his chest.
''Yeah,'' you whispered. ''I meant it.''
Simon felt his chest tighten at your words, a mixture of relief and disbelief washing over him. He had hoped you felt the same, but he hadn’t dared to get his hopes up.
He pulled you closer if that was even possible, holding you almost desperately. ''Christ, bug,'' he muttered, his voice gruff but wavering slightly. ''Say it again. Tell me again.''
He needed to hear you say it to him again, afraid his ears might have betrayed him.
You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a warm rush of affection for this gruff and reserved man.
You pulled back slightly so you could look at him, your gaze locked with his. ''I love you,'' you said again, clearly and firmly. ''I love you, Simon.''
And you did, and there was no way you would ever go back on your words. This cold and standoffish man had wormed his way into your heart. Hearing his name from your lips was a sucker punch to the gut. His whole body shivered and his heart stumbled in his chest.
''God,'' he grunted, his voice thick and raw with emotion. ''Bug, say it again, just once more.'' He sounded almost pleading, desperate to hear those three words again.
You could see the raw emotion in his eyes, the pleading and desperate look on his face. You felt your heart clench in her chest, his vulnerability and need for reassurance surprising you.
You reached up, gently cupping the side of his face, your thumb stroking against the faint stubble. You met his gaze firmly, your voice tender and earnest as you said, ''I love you, Simon.''
Simon's eyes fluttered shut as the words left your lips. It was like they were a soothing balm on his roughened soul, helping to ease the ache in his chest. He let out a shaky breath, his arms wrapping around you tightly, holding you against him as though you were his lifeline.
And you were, he knew that deep down.
''Love you, too, so damn much,'' He muttered, the words hoarse and low against your ear.
You let out a soft giggle, feeling giddy and lightheaded from the emotions swirling around you. You snuggled closer into him, enjoying the feeling of being held in his strong arms.
''Is this you…asking me to be your girlfriend?'' You asked, your voice playful and soft.
He pulled back slightly so he could look at you, his gaze intense and serious.
''I'm asking you to be my girlfriend. I'm asking you to be my future wife. And the mother of my children.'' his voice was rough with emotion.
You felt your heart slam against your chest, your breath catching in your throat. Simon had just asked you to be his girlfriend and to be his wife. And on top of that, the mother of children.
You felt overwhelmed and dizzy, your emotions and the words and the implications of what he was asking you crashing over you like a wave. You just stared at him for a moment, stunned into silence, until you finally managed to find your voice. “Yes,” you whispered. ''Yes, to all of it.''
As soon as the word left your lips Simon felt something inside his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Hope.
He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, his face softening slightly. ''Yeah?'' he asked, his tone still gruff but filled with a hint of excitement.
It touched something sweet and painful inside you, that this big strong man was still so unsure about your feelings for him. You reached up, gently cupping the side of his face.
''Yes,'' you repeated. ''Yes. I want to be your girlfriend. And your wife. And the mother of your children. I want all of it.''
He needed you so close that there was no space between you, that you were one and the same.
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, muttering the words against your skin. “That's all I've wanted.''
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