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dilfl0v3rss · 9 months

Note

choso x reader who skipped school (college) and hung out with her friends and was lying saying she was going to school everyday until her grades came in the mail and she got dealt with

YESSSSS BAEEEEE

you knew your boyfriend didn’t play that lazy shit. you were to be up every morning, dressed, ready and on time for your classes. it was a tight schedule and you felt like you were having no time to relax, so you just stopped. now of course choso wasn’t just going to let you stop going to class so you continued to make it seem like you were going just to keep him off your back. you’d wake up, get dressed at the same time you used too, and be out that door by 10:30 just like usual. the only difference is instead of you making your way to campus you would make your way to the mall or starbucks, or a fancy restaurant with your friends.

you didn’t mean for it to drag out for so long, but you were just so tired and drained when it came to all the lectures and papers so each time you thought about it the farther away you turned from it.

“gimme a kiss fore you go baby” choso mumbled, his chest bare to you as he sat up on the bed. his job blessed him with a day off today and as much as you wanted to just stay with him, you knew it’ll blow your cover. “f’course papa” your lips caressed each others briefly before you were walking out the door. you quickly skipped towards your car, giggling as you pulled out your phone to see where you and your girls were hanging out today. choso was going to go back to bed, but decided to stay awake and do some work around the house since he hasn’t been home like this in awhile.

a couple hours have went by and he noticed that you haven’t called him between classes like you usually did when he was off during the week. a flush of embarrassment running through him as he thought of his clinginess. “miss my girl” he mumbled as he pulled out his phone to send you a quick text. halfway through his message he heard the doorbell ring, his head instantly turning towards the front door as he rose from the couch in the living room. choso quietly looked through the front blinds, waiting for the mailman to be completely gone so he can come out and get the mail without having to throw on a t shirt.

as he sat back down on the couch, papers in hand, he read through each piece of mail he got. “bank, insurance, insurance again, victoria’s secret…..academic office? wha-” choso cut himself off as he slowly opened up the envelope, the sight of your grades along with the notice about your attendance made him almost rip the paper in half. you haven’t been to your classes in two weeks and your grades were a damn mess. “the hell?” he mumbled, thoughts of you leaving everyday clouding his mind as choso tried to think of what the fuck you possibly could’ve been doing these past two weeks.

he knew you weren’t cheating on him, the thought not even crossing his mind as he clicked on your location. he tried to refrain from doing this, not wanting to seem like a control freak, but since you wanted to act up he was going to have to be a little stern with you. as he looked at where you were choso could help but chuckle. “the damn mall, f’course” he mumbled as he looked at your little bubble moving towards what looked like the parking lot. he knew you weren’t going to come home right now because he was home, but since it just so happened to be the time you’d take to have lunch between classes he decided to give you a call.

as you looked at the picture of your boyfriend on your phone, a small smile graced your features. you had no idea what he knew. “hi babyyyy” you yelled, making choso smile on the other line. “hi mama, miss you” you giggled, throwing your bags in the car before sitting in your seat. “maybe i could come see you. just got outta class” you lied through your teeth. choso’s anger only grew as he listened to you lie to him like it was nothing, his jaw tightening as he kept a straight face while he talked. “i’d like that, been thinkin bout you all day” his deep voice made you smile, a tingle running up your spine as you quickly started your car. you told choso you’ll be home soon before the two of you hung up and you started your journey.

as you were on the way choso made sure to put all the mail away, only leaving the slip he got from your school in his hand as he waited for you on the couch. you rushed to the house, happy as you made every light and there was zero traffic since you didn’t even have to take the highway like you did when coming home from class, the mall was literally right there. as you walked towards the front door, you didn’t even have to knock since choso opened it for you. “hi papa!” you squealed before giving him a bunch off kisses on his cheeks. he wrapped his arms around your waist, giving you a tight hug. he inhaled your scent already knowing you were spraying yourself with different perfumes in the mall because of the mix of aromas coming from your shirt. “got here quick baby, usually would still be on the road right now”

your heart dropped at his words, a quick lie flying from your lips to get him off your tracks. “i just missed you so much i might’ve drove a little fast, don’t be mad at me” you looked up at him, chin on his hard chest as you gave him a pout. choso smiled down at you, his anger already shooting through his arms as he began to squeeze you a little tighter. “never” he said before letting you go. he watched you prance over to your room, not a care in the world running through your mind as you lied to your boyfriend for the second time today. “how was class? learn anything new” he mumbled, his body leaning in the doorway as he watched you plop yourself onto the bed. “boring as always learning the same old thing” you were on a role with these lies today.

choso finally couldn’t take it anymore, slowly walking up to you before leaning both of his hands next to your thighs. just from the look he gave you, you knew you were in trouble. “so when are you gonna stop lying?” his deep voice sent chills down your spine as you looked into his tired eyes. you were too scared to lie, opting for some waterworks instead which made him scoff. “i-it was getting t-to hardddd. i couldn’t keep uppp” you whined, earning yourself a quick hand around your throat as choso stood up to his full height. he slowly dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out the paper, showing you your horrendous grades as well as the attendance notice at the bottom. “so instead of asking me for help, you skip class for two weeks?” you looked up at his angry face with watery eyes, your throat already getting dry as you tried not to cry anymore.

you knew you were wrong and choso knew you were actually never planning to stop, so he was happy he caught you when he did. “turn the fuck over” he grumbled, his hand lightly pushing you back by your neck as he released you from his hold. you whined, slowly turning over in the bed and raising your ass high in the air the way he liked. choso ignored the praise he’d usually give you, getting straight to the point as he began to rub the flesh of your asscheeks through your tights. “you lied t’me three times. lied about being in class, about driving home from class, and about how this imaginary class was boring” you listened intently to what he was saying, taking notice of the way he was slowly pulling at the top of your tights.

“i’m feeling nice today so i’m not gonna count the amount of times you’ve been lying t’me for the last two weeks, but you still getting a punishment for it eventually, understand?” you internally whined, your face going into a frown as you looked straight ahead. “y-yes” choso gave you a quiet “good” before gripping the back of your tights with both hands and ripping the fabric down the middle. you gasped at his strength, letting a whine slip as you realized he just ripped up for favorite pair. his big hand landed a hard smack on your ass, making your body jolt forwards before he used his other hand to quickly grab your waist. “ima spank you three times ‘kay?”

you nodded your head while giving him a quiet “okay” before choso continued on. “that first one was for your whining so it doesn’t count. you don’t get to be upset when you get caught being bad y’hear me?” you slowly nod your head, your cheek squished in the sheets as you closed your eyes and braced yourself for the consequences of your actions. choso kept his eyes on your ass, knowing the sight of your teary face would weaken him. he slowly raised his hand, letting each day you woke up and lied to him play through his mind before landing a rough slap on your ass.

you immediately moaned from the contact, your pussy soaking your panties as you tried your best to hold still for him. “what was that for mama?” he asked, his rough palm rubbing around the area as he awaited your response. you had to take a deep breath before you spoke. “f-for lying about being in c-class” a smirk adorned his features at your obedience. choso didn’t expect you to be able to speak, but the need for forgiveness always seemed to get you to do unspeakable things. “good girl” he mumbled, his deep voice sending more wetness through your underwear as you felt his hand leave your ass again.

the second slap was a bit harder, making your entire body jerk forward as you quickly tucked your lip behind your teeth to keep you from screaming. “unt uhh baby i gotta hear you. how you gon talk t’me while biting your lip like that huh?” you slowly complied, freeing the glossy skin from the confines of your mouth as you felt his hand begin to rub up and down your back. choso slowly released himself from his sweatpants, rubbing his thick dick along the fabric of your wet panties as he spoke. “tell me what that one was for baby” he groaned, the feeling of your arousal sending shivers down his spine. “was f’lying ab….about driving home f-from class….please daddy m’so sorryyy” your moans were music to his ears. choso slowly moved your panties to the side, a low “mhmm” leaving his throat at he looked at your glistening folds connecting to your panties with strings of your arousal. “what’s this last one for mama?”

you opened your mouth to speak, but were cut off by the feeling of his rough palm colliding with your ass. the sound so loud it bounced of the walls as he sunk his dick deep inside your entrance. a loud moan escaping your mouth as you felt inch by thick inch of him being sheathed inside of you. “ooohhh fuckk i can’t” a rough slap was brought to your ass again at your words. anger ran through choso’s veins as he listened to you lie to him again. “stop it baby, yes you can” he started at a slow pace, letting you feel each and every part of him as he kept a tight grip on your hips. his dick dragging in and out of you, touching everywhere all at once as he let you moan and whine into the air. “why you makin me do this t’you, huh? why couldn’t you just ask me for help?” his deep voice caressed your ears as you felt his pace begin to quicken. you wanted your words to come out, but the faster he fucked you the harder it got for you to think. coherent words being replaced with mumbles and whines. choso chuckled at the state of you, his dick twitching he put his hands flat on your back to deepen your arch.

“papa pleaseeee” you whined, your walls tightened around him as you felt his dick begin to push into your stomach. you went to reach for his abs, lightly trying push some of his inches out, but you were met with a big hand around your wrist. whines flew from your lips, your tears continuously soaking the sheets as you tried to plead with the man behind you. “p-please i can’t ch….cho-” “s’not my name mama. if you finish that sentence ima make you go to your next class after this. with my cum leaking down your thighs” he roughly threw your hand back in front of you, continuing his brutal thrusts as he watched your pussy take each and every inch of him. “why couldn’t you jus ask for help? you know i’d never tell you no to somethin like that”

your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your mind all over the place as you confessed the reason for your actions to your boyfriend. “d-didn’t wanna bother you. y’work too much….work too hard and never rest….just wanted you t’rest papa” choso’s eyes softened at your words, his thrusts slowing at he pulled you up to him by your neck. his broad chest pressed against your back as he spoke deeply in your ear. “that’s not the way t’look out f’me mama. cause now i gotta do even more work to catch you back up” a low cry left your lips as you realized how right he was. cries if “m’sorry” and “please don’t be mad at me” flew from your lips like a prayer as you felt choso regain his quick and deep pace.

“s’okay tho baby, papa’s gonna be off work for a couple weeks since the building is under construction. ima get you right on track” at that you felt his thick fingers rub quickly on your clit. his thrusts deepening as he continuously hit your g spot. your body melted into his arms as you felt your release begin to approach you. “d-da m’gonna cum…can i?” everything in choso’s brain was screaming at him to tell you no, but the sorry, far away look in your big, brown, glossy eyes weakened him to the point where he felt his release approaching him as well. a low groan escaped from his lips as he quickly nodded his head. “yea mama give it t’me. don’t worry about a thing jus let papa handle it okay?”

without a reply the both of you chased after your orgasms. your hips moving back onto choso’s dick, clenching around him tightly as he continued to rub quick circles around your clit. “c-cum in me p-please” you whimpered, tears running down your face as you and choso connected your lips together. he sloppily kissed you, moaning a “mhmmm” as he let both of your salivas mix together. before long neither of you could focus on the kiss as your releases crashed through you. your lips parting into each other as you felt your juices squirt all over the bed as well as choso’s cum shooting deep into you. “fuckk baby” he moaned, his head falling back as he clenched his eyes shut. “m’sorry pa” you breathed, your hand slowly moving back to caress the back of his sweaty neck.

“i know mama, jus don’t do it again”

bonus!!

you practically sprinted into the house, your slides flying off your feet as you went straight to your room to your boyfriend. choso was just getting out of the shower, towel wrapped tightly around his wet, muscular body as he used another towel to dry his hair. “baby baby baby baby babyyyyy” a smirk grew on his face at your excitement, his tongue swiping over his pink lips as he gave you a deep “hmm” you skipped towards him, your hands behind your back as you looked up at your beautiful boyfriend.

“lemme see mama” he said, a chuckle erupting from his chest as he watched how quickly you pulled your phone from behind your back. choso inspected your screen, scrolling through the different grades you’ve been getting in each of your classes. “an A in anatomy, A in psych, A in sociology, ooouuu a C in stats? wassup wit that i thought we was doing well?” choso gave you a confused look, waiting for you to let him know what was going on. you sighed, eyes reverting to the ground. choso opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sight of your latest exam from your stats class. the big 95% being exposed to him in red ink.

a smile grew on your face as you spoke. “he said he was a little behind on grades so once this is in i should have a B!” a smile spread to choso’s face now, his big hands grabbing at your waist before giving you a light kiss on the lips. “m’proud of you, good job” a hint of mischief twinkled in your eyes as you gave your boyfriend and expecting look. “sooooo….can we?” a chuckle flew from his chest as he gave you a sexy smirk, his pearly white teeth peaking from his lips as he looked you up and down. “on your back mama, spread your legs real wide f’me” his deep voice rang in your ears, making you move almost instantly towards the bed.

you quickly removed your pants and panties before laying on your back in just your pretty pink crop top. choso made his way to his dresser, pulling out the black vibrator he promised to use on you if you got all your grades up. he slowly walked towards you on the edge of the bed, his towel wrapped securely around his waist as he leaned his body over yours, his hands right next to both sides of your head as he leaned down to plant wet kisses on your neck. “been working hard, huh mama? been doin all your work like daddy said?”

you quickly nod your head yes, your eyes already rolling just from the sound of his deep voice. “yes sir” choso slowly kissed down your body, moving to his knees until he was face to face with your glistening pussy. “what’s this for baby?” he asked, the sound of the vibrator powering on making your walls clench in anticipation. “f-for being a good girl” choso lowered his mouth to your clit, letting his wide tongue run up and down your folds before moving two of his fingers towards your entrance. he lowered the vibrator down until it was only mere centimeters away from your clit.

“that’s right ma. s’for being a good girl”

#jjk choso x black reader #jjk choso x black!reader #choso x black reader #choso x black y/n #jjk choso x black y/n #choso smut #choso x black!reader #jjk choso smut #choso x black fem!reader #jjk choso x black fem!reader #jjk x black!reader #jjk x black reader #jjk x black y/n #jjk smut

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chlorinecake · 3 months

Note

A non con fanfiction? On sunghoon or jake

Btw love you're fanfics! Lots of lovee!🤍

cross my heart and hope to die

syn. Basically while your university hosts a school event, Jake convinces you to help him break into an abandoned frat house before fucking the living daylights out of you

pair. star student!fratboy!jake x gullible!fem!reader

warnings. swearing, guided f. masturbation, cum eating (?), tit play, hickey, petnames (angel, doll face), cnc themes, mild degrading and exhibition kink, light choking/slapping/hair pulling, unprotected sex (stay safe guys), creampie, not proofread

word count. 2.1k

Today marked the day of your university’s annual student and staff celebration, and as promised in the lengthy event criterion, would offer free refreshments, entertainment, awards, and most importantly, a place for everyone on campus to fit in.

Or at least… mostly everyone.

You and your university’s proudly dubbed star student and “spoiled brat,” Sim Jake, occupied yourselves with other plans for the evening.

To most people, Jake in a nutshell was someone who’s brain matched their pockets.

Not that you were particularly interested in Jake’s money or brilliance… you just simply found him attractive. Very attractive.

His strikingly sharp smile, almond brown eyes, perfect cupid's bow, olive skin, strong hands... you could go on for days about how beautiful he was to you.

Gosh, looking at him alone was like a wet dream.

So much so that you'd do basically anything just to be in his presence, despite your own impending bashfulness getting in the way.

And he noticed it. All of your fangirl tendencies...

Despite that, your relationship with Jake wasn't necessarily ideal: you basically just did whatever he asked of you, leading to the partial friendship you two now share.

Though, the only boundary Jake’s favors hadn’t passed yet was anything sexual, all the while one way or another, he planned to change that.

Now, you wish you could say this particular night was all his idea, but you knew deep down in your heart that you had every intent within your own gullible will to join him in his folly.

To give in.

“Hey, you almost done in there, doll face?,” Jake whispered from behind the halfway opened door to the dean’s office, extending his head to take a look down the hallways as if preparing to cross the street.

You two couldn’t risk getting caught.

Not in here, and not over this.

“Yeah, I.... I’m locking the drawer back now, just gimme a few more seconds,” you replied while focused on the task at hand, locking the dean’s desk drawer back and doing a quick check to make sure everything was in the same place you’d found it initially before leaving.

Everything except the key to your university’s former frat house, which had since five or so years ago become a vacant property of forgotten memories and potential.

Of course Jake thought to seek your help with getting the key, hoping that someday, he and his friends would be able to reoccupy the place.

“Alright, we’re good to go,” you said, meeting him at the door as you both ran down the left hall, a flight of stairs, along a few sidewalks, and onto the football field.

“The house should be a few more minutes from here,” Jake added, taking your hand in his to guide you, his touch practically sending electric waves to your heart.

It was starting to get dark quickly, and you weren't sure if the event was coming to an end or not, given how quiet everything suddenly became... but still, you were more focused on exploring anyways.

For better or worse, you were just too curious, too desperate for Jake’s attention.

Click.

You finally unlocked the door upon trying the three other keys you stole from the office, taking in the view of the place that looked as if it’d been kept clean over all these years, with an audacity to smell of pleasant florals, citrus, and pine.

“Hey, where’d you get that?,” you asked Jake, noticing the can of soda he sipped from, and the way his lips glimmered under the faint lighting.

“From the party… I must've been thirsty earlier and forgot I brought this with me,” he said, puppy eyes looking around before meeting you, “want some?”

“Uh, sure, thanks,” you said shyly, taking the soda can to sip, even though the fizz was a bit faded for some reason.

“Oh! Sorry, ____!,” he suddenly yelped, having nudged your hand to take the drink away and accidentally spilling some of the sparkling liquid all over the top you wore.

“Ahh,” you sighed quietly, feeling the cold and sugary drink stick to your skin, “it’s fine, Jake... there’s gotta be towels in here somewhere anyway.”

“Hey, maybe check upstairs, if there's a main bedroom, there should be some cloths in there,” Jake offered, going to discard the can as you did just as he said.

You found a room eventually, where hand towels with dainty cross embroidery at each corner laid on the bed. They stood out like a sore thumb considering the erotic playboy magazine covers hung up on either end of the headboard in gold picture frames.

Jake came back quickly, watching as you plopped yourself on the bed, your chest jiggling a bit with you’re movements as you wiped up your shirt.

He laid down beside you with a groan, yawning out of boredom more than tiredness, “Wonder what kind of shit went down in this room,” he though to himself before glancing back at you. “That’s not gonna work, you know? You’re gonna need to change your entire shirt at this point.”

“But… I don’t wanna risk getting caught by taking anything else, seeing how I’ve already messed up this nice towel,” you rationalized with him.

“Take off your shirt, angel,” Jake said in a husky voice, sitting up now on the bed to look at you better, his gaze practically undressing you itself, “you just look so uncomfortable with it on…”

Your nipples were hard thanks to the cold drink, so they poked through your outfit, just enough for him to get a good sneak peek.

There was something about the tone of his voice that made you feel different this time, though. Nervous.

“I’m fine… really,” you replied before continuing, “So what do you think about the frat house," you asked, still patting the wet spot of your shirt with the towel, ignoring his previous comment.

"Hmm… It's pretty nice... spacious... the condition isn’t too bad, so that means less work for me and the boys,” he answered, shamelessly staring at you, “plus, it already has everything we need in it.”

The place really was like a hidden resort house.

“Yeah… now that you mention it, I wouldn’t doubt they still have some soap in here, too. I really need to wash this stain out, anyway—”

Jake’s hands found your shoulder first, pushing you back first against the bed before straddling you, hooking the lower seam of your top with his fingers and pulling it up over your head.

“W-what’re you doing, Jake?” You stuttered, nervous as you laid half naked beneath him.

“What you obviously couldn’t do yourself,” he slithered, lips already meeting your sweet breasts, thanks to his little soda accident earlier.

You regretfully moaned, already feeling your core warm up at his actions. The effect he had on you was honestly a bit embarrassing.

“M-maybe we should go back downstairs-”

“But you don’t want to…” he whispered against your skin as he left a trail of kisses all over your chest.

“J-Jake, this isn’t why I came here with you-”

“You know how much I like it when you do as I say, angel... now I just need you to keep being a good girl for me, okay?”

“Jake, stop-” you whined, feeling as his hands toyed with your panties.

“Why? It’s not like you haven’t been dying for me to touch you like this,” he grinned, looking up at you with the sluttiest eyes as his hand sat just above the wet spot of your core.

He snickered to himself, “You want this, don't you?”

His hand harshly smacked the tender skin of your inner thigh, a loud sound filling the room as your body flinched.

“Yes,” you yelped in discomfort, biting your lip to hold back any tears.

“So why are you telling me to stop?”

“I was… I don’t…,” your mind was getting fuzzy, chest starting to heave as you struggled to think with his finger circling your clothed clit.

What had gotten into him?

“You were cold because I spilled my drink on you, and now I’m helping you warm up again,” he smiled, mouth connecting with your neck as he continued to suck relentlessly, skillfully teasing your heat as he marked you, “Right, ____?”

“Jake,” you whined, arching your back once you felt his fingers apply pressure.

“Shhh,” he cooed, pulling down your bottoms the rest of the way and spreading your legs.

Leaning back, he finally spoke, “Touch yourself for me… and use two fingers so I can see how your pathetic little pussy struggles to take it.”

And of course, you did just that, already slick enough to put on a nice show for him.

He slapped your face when you closed your eyes, telling you to look at him the entire time.

You continued to pleasure yourself before him, a bit of moisture seeping from your aching hole when he slapped your tit this time, “Oh, you like the pain, don’t you slut? Can’t come without it, can you?”

“Nngh, no,” you answered for reasons you don’t understand, fucking yourself faster as you circled your hips, just as he snatched your wrist, licking the juices from your fingers.

“Up,” was all he said before taking you to the window, bending you over the sill.

“It’s getting stuffy in here, I say we let some air out, yeah?”

All you did was nod dumbly as his words, his belt buckle hitting the ground with a clink as his dick found your entrance, shoving past your slimy tightness with his lips kissing down your back.

His grunts sounded animalistic as he picked up the pace, his accent thick and strong with each curse that slipped from his mouth.

Jake’s hands found your neck, gripping tightly as his thrusts sped up, fucking you back and forth with you your head resting at the window.

“Look up slut, so everyone can see your cute little face tear up while I fuck you from behind… fuck you like my good little cock whore. Taking all of me so well— mmm.”

He pulled your hair by the roots, causing a loud moan to slip past your mouth as he stretched you out. “You’re such a slut for pain,” he grunted, “am I wrong, angel?”

You whimpered at his words, barely even present with how dizzy you felt, “you’re always righ— mghh, yes, right there...”

He pulled you from the window sill, shoving your face against the ground as he continued to thrust from behind, your tits shaking with his aggressive thrusts.

Picking you back up by the elbows, he pistoled into you, fluids trickling down your thighs and glistening against his pelvis as your poor thighs shook from all the pleasure, your weak moans dancing off the walls.

He thrusted in and out of you, fucking you into overstim as he chased him own high, taking pleasure in the way you squirmed whenever you felt his tongue against your skin.

His hands slid up your ribs before cupping your tits again, gripping at them relentlessly as his moans grew louder, breathier.

Needier.

Your hips bounced against his as you helped by fucking yourself on his cock, throwing your head back against his chest as you both came at the same time.

“Aww, fuck,” he groaned loudly, loosening his grip as you felt him paint your walls with his warm release.

Despite how out of breath both of you were, Jake picked you up and brought you to the bed, taking the same towels from earlier to clean you up before joining the empty spot beside you.

The three keys you borrowed from the dean's office were as good as misplaced by now, you and Jake both too tired to give a shut about looking for 'em now.

“You can’t tell anyone about this…," he started with a rasp voice, "nothing about tonight… not your friends, and especially not mine,” he said, pulling you close to him as you laid in only his jacket and your panties, Jake himself wearing just a t-shirt and jeans.

You looked into his face, that was unbelievably more striking with a post-sex glow.

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” you answered softly, as both of you stared at the ceiling, hearing nothing more than your hearts beating and a few faint sounds from outside.

Still, the fact remained that you’d do anything for Jake… even sexual favors now.

“Thank you,” he whispered back, but you were already fast asleep, the final thought on his own mind being that the abandoned frat house would be a place just for the two of you now.

❊ Thank you all so much for reading this quick fic !! I honestly think it's kinda garbage, but I hope someone out there finds it enjoyable at least (probably gonna make a revised version of this for another member tho, we'll see...) !! Also, make sure to check out my masterlist for more reads like this ~

❊ [Perm] Taglist: @squoxle @ashgonedash @nikisdubblchococake @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33

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vixensbrainrotts · 4 months

Text

Lipgloss lover — Ken <Draken> Ryuguji

Content: fluffy imagine

Warnings: too much fluff

Tropes: established relationship, whipped! Draken

Summary: You really thought that he wouldn’t notice?

Vixen’s two cents: Hi! Here’s something based of a real life experience i had (i couldn’t figure out what the flavor of one of my friend’s lipglosses was after borrowing). I love Draken so much, so let’s celebrate my first Draken post together! Lmk if you like this, and if you have ideas for more little scenarios, my requests are OPEN!! Also, im currently on the hunt for moots to proofread and triangulate with! If you’re interested, please contact me <3. Now enjoy!

Ken furrows his brows after you’ve pulled away from the kiss and were now walking towards the refrigerator. He licks his lips precariously and smacks them a few times for good measure. Something is off about this.

“Babe!” He calls out to you, voice gruff and serious. You turn around a little startled and try to hide a smile when you see the frown on his face. “Everything all right?”

He shakes his head in response. “Mmh I don’t know. Something’s weird.” He waves you over expectantly, his wrist flicking fast to convey his urgency.

With a giggle you go over to him and stand between his legs where he was sitting at the table. “Yes handsome?” Your hand glides over both his shoulders, coming to scratch over his nape and up his scalp.

Draken hums in response, both hands sliding up your thighs and coming to rest on your hips, and tilts his head up to look at you. “Kiss me again.”

“Your wish is my command.” You whisper and lean down to meet him in the middle, and you feel his arms slither and tighten around your hips, his fingers tickling your stomach a little.

When you pull away again Draken’s eyebrows are still furrowed, lips still puckered to a pout. “You did something. What the hell is on your lips?” You laugh a little “What do you mean?”

“You taste different, normally you’ve got this whole cherry-coconut wombo-combo going on but now? Fuck me girl, kiss me again and lemme try ‘n figure out what you taste like.”

Your heart flutters a little and your smile widens a little, and you’re very happy to kiss him again. This time he pulls away “Gimme a tip, love. Do I know the taste? Have you had it before?” You smile and nod. “You know the taste yes, but I haven’t worn it before.”

“Fuck.” He mumbles and licks his lips, looking around the kitchen as if that would help. “You want me to tell you?” You ask him and his eyes snap towards you again immediately. “No. One more kiss and if I can’t figure it out then, sure.”

“Ok.” You Kiss him once more, and when you go to pull away this time, his lips chase yours and his arms tighten around your waist.

“Damn it Baby i don’t know. Hit me.” His eyes are still closed from the kiss and he lays his head on your stomach with a sigh. Lovingly, you card your hands through his hair. “Why would I hit you?!” You giggle.

“Hit me with the cold, hard truth.” Your smile widens knowingly at that, and you take a moment to soak in the comfortable silence with him in your arms.

“Green tea.” You state.

“Fucking what?!” His head moves away from your stomach to throw you a bewildered look, and he look almost offended. “How the fuck could I have known that? Green tea? Fucking cracky ass flavor no wonder I didnt guess it!” He complains whiningly, and you offer him a kiss to the forehead as consolation.

“So you dont like it?” You ask with a smile, fingers coming to caress his cheek bones. “Never said that, c’mere Girl.” You kiss him again, and again, and again…

#Ken #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokrev #tr content #tokyo manji revengers #tr headcanons #draken #draken x reader #draken x y/n #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken x y/n #ken ryuguji #ken x you #ken x reader

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stwrkeys · 1 year

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smut bimbo!reader and rafe Cameron . he would be so mean

mdni¡

“rafe, please!” you beg as he pushes your head further into the soft pillows. “i cant take it anymore!” your brain was like a cloud. you felt as though you were going to mold into the bed with how hard rafe was ramming you into it. his fingers on your clit only intensified the pleasure. he had been going at it for hours now, attempting to make you cum as many times as he could. your best friend’s brother explained to you that he just had to. after you showed up to his house in that sundress, wearing nothing underneath. how could he not? showing up like that is basically begging him to fuck you into oblivion. you couldn’t get it through rafe’s head that you needed to find sarah, and that really you were just in a hurry and that’s why you weren’t wearing anything underneath, but if he said he had to, then he had to. he saw the way you got nervous whenever he would get near you, how your whole body would tense up and your cheeks would go red. he knew you were attracted to him, and he had always been attracted to you. this would be his only chance to make a move on you. “you can take it, and you will. just gimme one more, princess, and we could be all done.” tears are spilling out of your eyes, mascara running down your face, staining the silk pillow sheets black. “can i please cum?” you ask pleadingly, eyes rolling back from the pleasure. “not just yet, baby. gotta wait so i can fill you up with everything inside of me. i’m gonna have you full of my kids soon, okay?” you whine, aching for your release. pain from your previous orgasms is coursing through your body, combining with the pleasure. rafe puts a hand on your mouth and shushes you, “shhh, you don’t want anyone to hear how good your best friend’s brother fucks you, do you?” you can’t even nod, trying to hold back your release as rafe fucks you. he removes the hand from your mouth and grabs you by your hair to lift you up. “i asked you a question, pretty baby. do you want everyone to hear how i fuck you like a whore? what would sarah think about that? i don’t think she would like the idea of her best friend sneaking around with her older brother, would she?” he holds you up, his cock still pounding against your walls. you shake your head vigorously. “words, baby. words. and ill let you cum.” rafe lets go of his grip on your hair and you fall back down. you gather up enough strength to spit out a response. “no, rafe! sarah would hate me! i would hate it for her to hear how dirty you make me!” at your response, you feel his pace increase and his fingers find its way back to your clit. “there you go. i guess you aren’t as dumb as i thought, huh, bunny? go ahead and cum for me.” it was as if a dozen fireworks had gone off inside of you. you felt your final climax overcome you, rafe spilling into you at the same time. he grabs your hips and moves you in a circular motion, letting out a groan as he spreads his seed evenly. “don’t move, baby. need you to stay until sarah finds you like this.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey #outer banks #obx imagine #bfb!rafe #sarah cameron

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wardenparker · 3 months

Text

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 1

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 14.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle* Not much for this chapter! Mostly fluff, a little flirting, and playful but on-point use of the term 'tramp stamp'. Summary: On a failed date at the local market, Marcus runs into an old friend and gets an invitation to visit. The beautiful inn and fantastic food were explicit in the invite -- but you are a complete surprise to him. Notes: Welcome, welcome, welcome my lovelies! As a girl who grew up on The West Wing and fosters an unapologetic love of all things romance, a story like this has been on my wish list to write for a very long time. I hope you're all ready for a cast of new characters and the grand appearance of Pedro's character from Graceland, because it's time for Marcus Pike to meet his soulmate! 🧡🧡🧡

There’s something about the hustle and bustle of D.C., that while it can invigorate someone and inspire them to live life as fast as possible, it can also drain them. At least, that’s what Marcus Pike has learned from the last three years of therapy. That and he’s prone to rushing into relationships, being in love with love, as Dr. Barnes would caution him.

It seems sometimes as if he’s unlucky in love, despite the universe providing a perfect match for him, he’s never found her. Always looking, but also being open to loving someone who doesn’t share marks or scars. Someone who just wants a stable and steady man to worship them and give them the world.

He hasn’t dated in almost three years. His therapist had advised him to focus on himself. To work through his emotions of a failed college marriage, a failed engagement. To make himself happy with who he is before introducing another person into the mix. He had thought that’s what he was doing, but apparently he had been wrong.

Finally feeling ready to date again, he had dipped his toes back in the water. Only to have it backfire tremendously. So much so, that he finds himself walking around the Eastern Market on his own. His idea of a farmer’s market casual date obviously not a good one, according to the woman who had tossed the drink he had bought her on the trash and stomped off, abandoning him to feel like a fool.

Smiling faces beam back at him from the covers of glossy gossip magazines, flashing headlines critiquing fashions worn to the recent inauguration ceremony and parties. The new president and her family wave from above the fold of newspapers — the happy family that Marcus himself doesn’t have. Ignoring the rude reminder, he wanders through the stalls and vendors of Eastern Market aimlessly until he reaches the family-owned sweet shop that he’s been coming to for years now. They know him, and like him, and his sweet tooth knows no bounds. There’s another man at the counter just before Marcus so he stands back, but Jenny waves hello from behind the counter. “Morning Marcus! Gimme one second and I’ll be right with you.” She says, turning back to the order marked Juan in her big, looping handwriting. “Six cannoli, right? Two pistachio, two double chocolate, and two cherry chocolate?”

“Right.” The man in a corduroy jacket with his short hair trimmed neatly nods. “Thanks, Jen. The girls are going to be over the moon.”

Another reminder of a life he craves. Marcus frowns slightly and tries to remember what his therapist has told him. Everyone moves at their own pace. Just because he’s not juggling two kids, a dog and a lovely wife with his workload doesn’t mean he’s failing. It just means he’s not met the right person, soulmate or not.

The other man pays for his order and turns to leave but stops dead in the middle of a cordial nod when he sees Marcus standing a few feet away. Sure he had heard Jenny say hi to someone…but he hadn’t looked. Now though? He huffs a laugh at the ghost of his past. “Pike?” They’d been mistaken as brothers — or for each other — so many times back at the Academy that it would be impossible not to recognize Marcus Pike.

“Badillo?” It’s amazing to see the other agent, although he had heard that he had left the Bureau after a friendly fire shooting. He looks good though, and Marcus cracks into the first real grin of the morning since being left high and dry. “What the hell? How are you doing, man?” He asks, coming in for a friendly hug while being mindful of the box in Juan’s hand.

“Good! Good. Errands.” Juan huffs, returning Marcus’s hug with equal surprise and affection. The men had been quite good friends at one time, more than a few years ago now. “Pregnant wife gets whatever pregnant wife wants, ya know?” He grins, bright and shining. “When did you get back to DC?”

“Pregnant wife, huh?” Despite the knife to his heart, Marcus paints on a grin, happy for his old friend. “Three years ago.” He shrugs slightly. “Heading up Art Crimes now. How about you? I heard you got out.” He lifts his eyebrows, allowing Juan to talk if he wants or brush it off if he doesn’t.

“I did.” Juan nods, knowing that various stories circulated after he left the Bureau. Most of them false. “Decided to take a little road trip vacation to clear my head and ended up meeting my soulmate in Yosemite on day two of the whole thing, and I followed her East.” He shrugs, ever the unapologetic romantic just like Marcus. They had had that in common. “How’s Lara?” He asks, remembering the woman that had been Mrs. Pike during their Academy days. Marcus had been over the moon for her. “Is she liking being back?”

Marcus grimaces a little and shrugs. “She’s, uh, we got divorced about ten years ago.” He tells him. “She found out she did have a soulmate.”

“Ah shit.” Blowing out a breath and shuffling his feet, Juan rubs the back of his neck self-consciously. “I’m sorry, man. That’s—there’s just no easy way to get through something like that.”

“It’s okay.” Marcus had loved Lara, but he wasn’t going to stand in the way of soulmates. It wouldn’t be right. “It was actually a very easy divorce; she hated hurting me. More than I can say for the last date, or last fiancée I’ve had.”

“Shit.” Juan huffs again, shaking his head in disbelief. “It’s eleven in the morning but I feel like I ought to be buying you a drink, man.” Hearing that someone as genuinely good as Marcus Pike is has had his heart bashed so often is a fucking bummer, and Juan chews on his lip for a second before his head tilts in that Universal signal of natural curiosity. “I’ve got time today. If you want to hang out? Catch up?” He offers, knowing that drinks will most likely come later if the two old friends spend the day getting back on the same page.

Marcus chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Do I look that dejected?” He asks, even though he’s not really looking for an answer. “I was supposed to be on a date, I figured a farmer’s market/brunch date would be easy enough and yet thoughtful, but I was ditched.” He snorts. “I have zero luck it seems.” He nods his head towards the cannoli. “But you can’t leave your pregnant wife waiting on those.”

“No, I can’t.” Sydney is waiting back at the restaurant with bated breath, he knows that, but he does offer Marcus a smile. “But she does run a restaurant, so you don’t have to be brunch-less unless you choose to be.”

“Yeah?” He perks up at the idea of trying out a new place, always loving brunch foods. “Where at? I might have to take a spin over there.”

“Her place is called Il Corvo.” It takes a second, but Juan digs a business card for the restaurant out of his jacket pocket and hands it over. “It’s the in-house restaurant at The Inn at Jones Point in Alexandria.” He reports proudly, always ready to brag about his soulmate’s amazing success. Running a restaurant is no small feat. “I know the card says the dining room opens at 4pm, but ignore that. She does brunch for guests at the inn and for special guests from time to time.”

“Are you sure?” Marcus frowns slightly. “I don’t want to impose.”

“It’s not imposing, trust me.” Knowing his wife as well as he does, Juan is more than certain she’ll be doting on Marcus in no time. “As long as you’re on board for Italian food, come by any time you want.”

“I’m out on the bike.” Marcus tells Juan, remembering how the other agent also loved to ride motorcycles. “I might swing by sometime. Normally go for rides on the weekend.”

"Anytime you want," Juan repeats, and he hopes Marcus understands how entirely he means it. "It's good to see you again, man."

“Good to see you too.” Marcus means that, smiling at the former agent. “Nice to see that you are okay.”

The two men part with a smile and a nod, and Juan hustles away to get his precious cargo back out to his soulmate. Maybe he'll pitch the idea of inviting Marcus to their next board game night if Sydney and her best friend don't mind the extra company. Not that they ever mind extra company.

Marcus doesn’t mean for it to be two weeks from the chance encounter with Juan before he steers his bike down the country, winding roads towards this inn that he had been told about. He had a case that required him to travel. Then it was reports and the never ending budget fiascos that new presidencies always bring, his boss wanting a new projections for the fiscal year for some reason.

Now though, he’s enjoying the scenery as the wind blows over his face and he leans into the curve, enjoying the small thrill that races up his spine from the inherent danger.

The winter has been mild so far and all the snow left behind by the storm the area had gotten while he was traveling has melted, making the ride an easy and calming one. He had intentionally driven a long route around Alexandria and the surrounding area, letting him arrive at his destination a little after noon on that cold, sunny Sunday. The inn is a large brick farmhouse, probably originally colonial but it looks like it was redone sometime during the Federalist architecture craze of the early 1800s. Now its clean white painted window frames and front porch are as welcoming as the pristinely kept front garden. The Inn at Jones Point proclaims a sign out front, which is accompanied by a smaller complimentary sign with an impressionist painted black bird that reads Il Corvo in an artistic script. There are cars in the lot with a plethora of states listed on their license plates, another motorcycle that he has to assume is Juan's, and a very government-issued-looking black car parked close to the building.

Marcus is enough of a romantic to fully appreciate the appeal of the property and more importantly, grounded enough to be able to appreciate it without having a partner here to enjoy it with. Since working with his therapist, he's spent a lot of the last three years 'dating himself'. Instead of waiting to make a date to try out a new restaurant, he goes by himself. Not limiting himself to new experiences with partners, he has found that he enjoys the hunt for the perfect spots to eat. The little Indian restaurant he had found is an absolute gem and he is looking forward to discovering a new little brunch spot. If this place is half as good as Juan says, he might make it a monthly habit while he can spend some time with his old friend.

Inside, the lobby of the inn is bustling. Guests sit in plush chairs with travel brochures or excitedly type on their phones. A family is gathered around a display of pamphlets for different travel experiences and tourist attraction. Another guest is hovering around the front desk, seemingly waiting for someone to return.

From the rooms off to the left, wave after wave of stunning smells wafts past Marcus as he looks around. A set of French doors stands open but the hostess stand for Il Corvo stands empty while a small number of diners sit inside, happily chattering over their meals. The scent of fresh coffee permeates everything else just a second before he can see why, as a woman in a blue silk shirt comes around the corner with two travel cups — presumably full of coffee — for the guest standing at the desk.

“Here we are, Mrs. Richards. Thank you for your patience, the pot was just finishing brewing. These will keep you nice and warm while you walk around Old Town.” Smiling as the woman walks away, your eyes survey the room and land on the new arrival with a touch of confusion. “Good afternoon,” you greet, in your typical sunshiny tone. This man isn’t a guest and you genuinely almost thought it was Juan for a second — even though you just saw Juan in the restaurant. “How can I help you today?”

“Hi— uh, I—” Marcus realizes he knows you. Your mother’s picture hangs on his office wall next to the current FBI director’s, and furthermore, it’s hard to not see the darling First Daughter in some news story – although it doesn’t seem like you enjoy the press. “Yeah, sorry, Juan said that brunch is served here?” He asks with an apologetic smile. “I’m Marcus, uh, Pike. We were in the Academy together and I ran into him a few weeks ago.”

You’re prettier than he ever imagined the pictures and news reels, your voice curling into his stomach pleasantly. In true, Marcus Pike fashion. He finds himself instantly intrigued by you.

“Oh, you’re Marcus!” As bright and cheery as you sound, something flips in your stomach and clenches at your chest and you swallow down the oh god he’s really hot impulse that you haven’t felt in…well, in years. This guy looks like someone took Juan and gave him broader shoulders and better hair, and put a little bit more James Dean in his style. “It’s really nice to meet you.” You introduce yourself, probably unnecessarily, but it’s good manners and keeps you from getting nervous or going off track. “Come on this way. Juan said you might be stopping by but he wasn’t sure when.”

“I’m sorry, should I have called first?” He asks, feeling guilty and slightly in the way. The last thing that he wants is to cause an imposition.

“Not at all.” You slip out from behind your desk and wave for him to follow you. “He’s been excited to introduce you to everybody.” The inn is a decent size, with the ground floor being public spaces and all the rooms upstairs being ready-made for guests except for the attic apartment, and you quickly lead the way through the rooms toward the restaurant kitchen.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve caught up.” Marcus admits. “We were close in the academy, most people through we were twins to be honest.” He chuckles slightly.

“I almost thought you were him when I saw you,” you admit, glad to know you aren’t alone in it. Juan had said they look alike but it really is extreme. “Here we are.” Humming as you push open the door to the restaurant’s bar, you huff a soft laugh when a woman slightly taller than you with masses of curls in a tight bun at the nape of her neck in a black suit sidesteps the pair of you and opens the kitchen door to look inside before letting you in. “Thank you, Agent Bailey.” As odd as it is to have constant supervision like this, you’re doing your best to be patient and understanding with it. “Come on into the kitchen,” you offer to Marcus. “Brunch is almost over and this is where Juan sits when he hangs out.”

“Really? The inner sanctum already?” The tone is joking, but Marcus knows that for a lot of chefs, the kitchen is their sacred place. He wouldn’t know, because his kitchen is used to make coffee, but he’s had a few relationships with amateur gourmet cooks.

“Marcus!” There’s no question that this is where he’s supposed to be, when Juan is waving from a corner of the kitchen and immediately zips over to say hello. “How are you, man? Good to see you!”

“Hey.” He grins when he sees the other man, obviously happier here than any time in the Bureau and he’s happy for him. He seems like a completely different man, just from the quick glance. Perhaps it’s the fact that he found his soulmate. “Sorry it’s been a few weeks. Got caught up on a case.”

“I completely get it,” he assures his friend. “It’s been kind of crazy around here anyway. Weddings booked every single weekend and the restaurant stuffed full with reservations.” He beams, proud as a peacock, and waves slightly as you disappear back out through the bar to return to your counter. The inn is full up with last night’s wedding party and you have your hands full. “I want you to meet my wife,” Juan says, clapping Marcus in the shoulder and pulling him further into the kitchen.

There are only two people cooking right now and they are both winding down. Enough that the petite woman with tied-up hair and a look of intense concentration on her face can look up and smile. “I hear you talking about me,” she warns with a laugh.

“Syd, this is Marcus Pike.” Juan introduces, bringing his friend out in front of him. “Marcus, this is Sydney. The gorgeous goddess the universe decided to grace me with.”

“Nice to meet you.” Again that pesky pang of longing lurches inside Marcus but he throws her a smile and takes her hand after she offers it immediately. “I’ve only heard angelic things about you, so rest assured, he’s not talking ill.”

“He’s does nothing but tell stories about you since you guys ran into each other at Eastern Market.” Sydney tells him honestly. “Can I make you something to eat?”

“I was hoping to experience the brunch option that Juan was bragging about.” Marcus admits as he glances around, admiring the state of the art kitchen. “Didn’t expect to see this from the historical facade.” He admits. “It’s charming though.” He adds, hoping that neither one of you take offense.

"Charming is her specialty." Sydney points her thumb in the direction of the door, indicating the main lobby of the inn. "We took over running this place about three years ago now. The previous owners weren't able to keep up anymore so they sold to her and we updated the restaurant. Modern Italian dinners and brunch for the inn's guests. It's a big step up from the B&B that this place used to be." Grinning proudly, Sydney moves over to the nearest counter and plops a paper menu down at the stool beside her husband. "What would you like?"

Marcus looks at the menu and lifts a brow, impressed by the sophisticated menu. This isn’t some little spaghetti shop that pretends to be Italian. “It’s been so long since I’ve had good Uova in Purgatorio.” He moans. “Since the last time I was in Naples.” He clicks his tongue. “But I want to try the ricotta pancakes too.”

"Then you will get both," Sydney insists, clicking her tongue and getting to work. "A G-man in Naples, huh?" She barely glances up from her work as she moves. "Art crimes must be the fancy branch of the Bureau."

“I work on international cases with Interpol and Scotland Yard.” He explains as he sits down and admires the fluidity of her movements in the kitchen. She’s completely at home in her space and it’s evident she’s in command. He’s slightly envious of her comfort in a kitchen, if he’s honest.

"Oh, so it definitely is the fancy branch." She laughs. Juan hops up from his seat to grab coffee for himself and Marcus, brushing a kiss on her cheek as he moves past, and the other woman who had been cooking moves away to the other end of the room to work on cleaning up from the brunch rush.

"Fancy branch of what?" The kitchen door swings open again and you come strolling back inside looking infinitely more tired than you had just a few minutes ago but still in a generally good mood. "The wedding party is finally gone. I am officially taking my break."

Marcus stares at you for a moment and then looks down at his hands, feeling like he might be bragging if he were to tell you what they’ve been talking about. There’s something about you that is knocking him off kilter, he’s normally a little more confident than this.

"Art crimes is swanky, apparently." Sydney tells you, never stopping or slowing as she moves around like a controlled whirlwind. "Eggs in purgatory and ricotta pancakes for your brunch? I'll make up a big batch." They're two of your favourite things anyway and it's easy enough to just make a double serving of each when she knows that your break time is always mealtime.

"That sounds incredible," you moan in agreement, making a beeline for the industrial refrigerator in the corner of the room to make yourself an iced latte that is far more espresso than milk. A generous swirl of flavored syrup joins your cup before you plop down on the edge of the counter and sip your drink with a happy sigh. Normally people exclaim over you when they realize they recognize you but Marcus Pike hasn't said a word — and you wonder if he doesn't recognize you from the papers or if you even care. It's nice to not have someone make a fuss for once. To just be nice and not suck up to you for being the President's oldest child.

“Weddings take it out of you, huh?” Marcus asks, smirking a little at the drink in your hand, although it looks delicious. “Or were they just demanding?”

"It was a big party. Very specific needs." Sipping your drink and finally sitting is immediately relaxing, and you're always ready to meet new people. Especially when they're someone that your best friend's husband speaks of so highly. "Nothing I can't handle, but weddings are always tricky. It's the most important day of at least one person's life, so you always want to try to make it as perfect for them as you can. Thankfully," you gesture around you. "I have an incredible team. Syd is the best Italian chef in the Chesapeake Bay and Juanito is an incredible event coordinator."

Marcus snorts and cuts his eyes over at Badillo. “He always did have an eye for details.” He admits, snickering at the nickname you’ve bestowed on the former federal agent. “Although it’s surprising that it’s manifested in wedding planning.” He teases playfully.

"Event planning," Juan clarifies, but he's grinning regardless. "We host a lot here. Weddings, anniversaries, holiday parties, all kinds of personal events. I get to put my organizational mind to work on it. It's actually pretty rewarding."

"Don't let him sell himself short. Juan plans a hell of a wedding." There is pride on your face, pride for your friend and in your work "We've gotten written up in a bunch of bridal magazines and on websites the last few years."

“Good job, Juanito.” If there’s anything that Marcus enjoyed more than the courses in the academy, it was busting his friend’s balls. All in good fun of course, he had taken his share of ribbing as well. It was par for the course. “That sounds like a hell of a job, making people happy and sharing in their special moments.”

"We do our best." Juan will never take the credit for himself, always attributing the effort to the team as a whole. This time, though, he flashes a knowing grin at you. "Although the next one we plan might be a hell of a lot bigger than what we do here."

“Oh?” Marcus asks, turning towards you. “Are you getting married soon?” His eyes drop discreetly to your hand and he tries to remember what he’s read about you but for some reason, he’s drawing a blank.

“No, Juan just likes to tease.” You shake it off with a roll of your eyes, knowing that — unfortunately — your friend is completely right. If or when it does happen, it will be a damn circus. “It’s this…guy that I met last year, and it’s been really good and he really took all the stress of the last year in stride, and these two love to tease.” In truth, you’ve been intentionally moving forward slowly with the junior Congressman from Maryland that you met at a campaign event you attended with your mother last year. Sam is a good guy and has big ideas for the future. It’s just that you normally dive into relationships so fast and so deep that your heart does all the talking before your mind can catch up. And now that you’re a public figure, you can’t afford to have that happen again. “I’m perfectly content to watch other people have their big days for now.”

“I can imagine that it’s hard to have a relationship right now.” He sympathizes. “The press either treats you like a darling celebrity or some kind of public spectacle, right?” He asks, curious as to your view on the entire thing. Personally, he hated the idea of politics taking on a celebrity flare and you aren’t on politics, your mother is.

“I’m honestly lucky that my younger siblings take some of the focus,” you admit. So he did recognize you. It’s nice that he didn’t fuss. You’re grateful for that. “My brother is in law school and my sister is in undergrad and they’re both living in the White House while they study but…yeah. We all agreed to give up our privacy for a while so Mom can do some good work. That means relationships aren’t easy right now.”

“It’s good you had a choice.” Marcus admits. “Sometimes I watch the campaigns for some of the politicians and it’s obvious the family would rather be anywhere else and are putting on a facade.” He shrugs, not wanting to delve too deep into a subject you probably are uncomfortable with. “Nice that you don’t have too much interference here, except for the Secret Service agent.”

"Agent Bailey's okay." In fact, she's sitting outside the kitchen door right now, giving you a bit of space and privacy to try to pretend you still have a halfway normal life. "We're still getting used to each other. I had somebody else during the campaign, but she's been assigned to my sister now. It all works out in the end." Smiling, you take another sip of your coffee and wonder why your stomach is fluttering over this very kind man who has been introduced into your lives very much by chance. It's...unsettling. To say the very least. "But that's plenty about me. How about you, Special Agent Marcus Pike? Where're you from? How are you liking Art Crimes?" You grin, throwing him a mischievous expression. "Who'd you vote for, for president?"

Marcus laughs, a real laugh that comes from his belly and he relaxes. “Let’s see…I’m from the great state of Texas - Go Rangers.” He ticks off. “I love Art Crimes, especially when we can recover sentimental pieces and keep “collectors”,” he uses air quotes, “from locking away art from being enjoyed by all.” He grins at your last question. “And my momma told me never to discuss politics or religion in social settings….but….my candidate is currently hanging on my office wall.”

"Rangers, huh?" Glossing over the not insignificant tidbit that he did, in fact, vote for your mother, you find yourself thoroughly enjoying getting to know this friend of your friend. It's usually not this easy to click with a new acquaintance, although you've become an expert at seeming interested just to be polite. That doesn't seem to be necessary at all with this man. "When we get our Phillies/Rangers series this year we'll have to come up with a bet of some kind."

“It’s gonna be a losing bet on your end.” Marcus predicts. “We’ve got Darío Álvarez and then Elvis Andrus is going to continue stealing bases.”

"Oh thank god," Sydney huffs, flipping ricotta pancakes on her griddle top and grinning as she throws you a wink. "She's finally got someone else to drag to baseball games. I'm free!"

"My alleged best friend," you smirk and decide to tease her back. "And her husband are both hockey people. So I'm generally either stuck watching the game on my own or dragging Syd along with promises of beer and ballpark dogs."

“Nationals aren’t my favorite team. Since they are National League.” Marcus smirks. “But I have season tickets since it’s too expensive to fly back to Texas for every game.”

It would be bragging to admit that you've been asked to throw the first ball out at the Nationals opening game this season as the most vocally baseball-loving member of the new First Family, so you just smile. You know it can feel like a big sacrifice to leave something about home behind. "Maybe I'll see you there," you offer instead. "The Nationals aren't my team either, but the game are pretty fun."

“Oh they always are.” He admits wholeheartedly. “Plus the Navy Yard is close so it’s always interesting.”

"Heeeeere we go." Onto the counter in front of you, Sydney heaps four plates of food – making each of you identical breakfasts. "The fruit compote for the pancakes right now is cranberry lemon. And I threw a little extra chili into the sauce for the eggs." She grins. "Some folks who stay at the inn say it's too spicy but it's how we like it," she tells Marcus.

Marcus chuckles and Juan snorts, hooking his fingers towards the agent. “This man ate his way through a five alarm chili contest and didn’t even touch his beer.” He boasts to the two of you. “If it’s not spicy, I don’t want it.” Marcus confirms with a grin. “Thank you. It smells amazing.”

"Then next time you're getting Calabrian chili instead of just the wimpy flakes." Sydney promises with glee. "That's how our girl likes it, but that's too much even for me most of the time. I have to be in the mood for it."

“You like spicy?” He asks, smirking towards you. “How do you feel about the Indian food around here?”

"There's a place in DuPont Circle that is probably the best Indian food I've ever had in my entire life." Even as you're getting ready to dig into your best friend's comfort Italian fare, your mouth starts watering thinking of curries and dal. "The kind of place where they don't make it really spicy until you've been there a couple of times and they know you can handle it. I swear I've eaten there more than I've cooked my own food since moving out here."

“Rasika’s?” Marcus groans, nodding. “I love that place. They make the best curry I’ve ever eaten in my life. I’m sweating, but I never tell them to bring me the yogurt sauce.”

"If you don't sweat while you're eating there, you're doing it wrong." It's a slight point of contention with Sam, who generally considers mustard to be too spicy most of the time, but you ignore the side eye you're getting from Sydney and dig in to your brunch. Having come in early today, this is halfway through your shift and you're going to be excited to head upstairs to your little attic caretaker's apartment when the time comes this afternoon. "Mmmmm," you groan happily and do a little wiggle in your seat unconsciously. "Syd, I swear. If you hadn't already married Juan, I'd marry you for your brunch."

Marcus takes that as the best kind of advertisement and cuts into his own meal to fork up a bite of the eggs. “Christ.” He groans as soon as the flavors hit his mouth. “That’s amazing.”

"I told you," Juan boasts, sitting up in his seat a little taller with pride for his soulmate. "She's amazing."

“You weren’t kidding.” Marcus huffs, taking another bite. “If this got out, you could run on brunch alone.”

"We're considering offering an incentive package for events." Starting to clean up, Syd watches the two of you eat while she wraps the kitchen up from brunch to get everything prepared for dinner service. "Wedding brunches are coming back in fashion, but a lot of people are wanting to do morning after brunches for their families before everyone goes their separate ways."

“I can see that.” Marcus nods. “Lara and I had a lunch thing before we all said goodbye, but that was casual.”

"Your wife?" You guess, struggling to remember if Juan had mentioned that his friend was married. He's not wearing a ring, but some men don't — a habit that generally rubs you the wrong way because those men are always the ones who basically want their wives to walk around wearing a giant 'I'm married' sign but will never show any outward signs of commitment themselves.

Marcus gives a small shrug and smiles self-consciously. “Ex-wife.” He admits, knowing that soon enough the pitying looks will start. “We divorced a while ago.”

Sydney clicks her tongue, having remembered that fact, and says nothing more. You, though? For some reason you can't help yourself. Something about Marcus Pike compels you to offer comfort in whatever way you can. "If you ever find another Mrs. Pike, you let us know. We've got you covered."

Marcus chuckles. “So far, that search has been in vain.” He admits. “Apparently it’s not in the cards for me.”

"She's out there." Juan offers with confidence. "If I remember correctly, you've even got a couple of tattoos to prove it."

Marcus rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I do.” He snorts. “If I ever find her, I want to know why there is a hummingbird tramp stamp on my lower back.” He laughs. “I get why, but why???? Why a hummingbird?”

A glare of questioning moves soundlessly between you and your best friend — the perpetually meddling woman who sat next to you when you were eighteen and challenged you to answer trivia questions while you had your own hummingbird tramp stamp inked onto your skin in celebration of your high school graduation. "Oh yeah?" She asks, raising an eyebrow at you while you furious try to communicate with nothing more than wide eyes that you do not want her to ask what she's about to ask. "What kind of hummingbird? How trashy are we talking?"

“It’s not exactly trashy.” Marcus defends. “It’s actually a pretty blue and green.“

"Interesting." Sydney hums, practically giggling with glee as she cleans up the kitchen and you bury your face in your meal like it will help you escape the entire conversation. "Maybe hummingbirds are her favourite bird?"

I'm going to kill you in your sleep says the glare you send your best friend's way.

“Totally trashed my punk rock image.” He laughs. “Although I didn’t think of that at the time. Thinking I’m this hardcore next Kurt Cobain rocker and I’ve got a hummingbird tattoo on my lower back.” He snorts, shrugging slightly. “But it’s always been a question I’ve wanted to ask. What made her choose that? What’s special about it to her?”

"Hummingbirds symbolize love and devotion," you murmur next to him, not quite looking up and wondering if the world is really turning on its ear right now or if it's just that you've been thrown off kilter by the possibilities. It's not like you're the only girl in the world with a hummingbird tattoo, after all. Far from it. "And they're supposed to be good luck."

“I like that.” Marcus hums softly. “It’s wistful, hopeful.” There could be a thousand different reasons why his soulmate chose that symbol to etch on her body and in turn, his, but he would rather it be a loving sign. You aren’t looking at him, and miss the small smile he throws you. “Poetic.”

"So she's gotta be out there somewhere." Sydney needles the point a little bit, sounding breezy as hell but just about ready to pounce on any clues Marcus offers up. "Maybe a hopeless romantic with a stubborn streak and an encyclopedic knowledge of Lost Generation authors and impressionist painters?" She shrugs like she's just pulled the example out of thin air. "Who knows?"

Throwing Juan a look, Marcus smirks. “Sounds like your husband has been talking about favorite kind of woman.” He jokes, although he’s pretty sure that he would love it if his soulmate turned out to be just that. “I just want to have someone that wants to be build a lift together. A partner.” He shrugs. “Most people think that it’s crazy, but I think that your significant other should be your best friend and your lover.”

"Absolutely crazy." With as clearly sarcastic a tone as she can possibly muster, Sydney practically deadpans in Marcus's direction. "So weird. How dare you want to spend your life with someone you loves you as much as you love them?" Every single thing she's described has been about you, and while neither of the guys are picking up on that for even a single second, the fact that you have your head down over your plate means you're reading her loud and clear. "I bet your dream girl will even have a thing for your old rockstar days," she goes on, as if she's stringing out a hypothetical and not explicitly describing your opinion that musicians are sexy as hell. "Don't tell me. You were a bassist, right?"

“And vocals.” He admits, shaking his head ruefully. “It’s alright if she doesn’t like that. God, it’s been years since I’ve picked up my bass.” He realizes. “I should do that. Between the bass or the motorcycle, I just spent more time on the bike.”

Bass. Vocals. And motorcycle? You practically groan out loud but barely manage to swallow the sound and instead hop up from your seat immediately to hopefully combine the noise you just made with all manner of other commotion. "Just grabbing another drink," you explain, when all three of their heads turn toward you at once. "You, uh...you should do what makes you happy, Marcus. If that's not overstepping things for me to say. We just met today. But I've always heard that the best things in life tend to fall into your lap when you're not looking for them. So maybe just...enjoy yourself? And who knows what can happen."

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do.” Marcus admits. “My therapist agrees with you. That we need to enjoy ourselves and not just search.”

"Our therapists agree with each other, then," you admit with a chuckle. "I started seeing someone when Mom decided to run for president. I figured it would be good to have someone to check in with and make sure I was handling my stressors in a healthy way." The conversations you had had with them about whether or not to factor your soulmate into future plans when you had never met them were slightly less straightforward.

“That’s always a good thing.” He nods quickly. “I’ve never been one to think that therapists are a waste of time.” He shrugs. “My mom was a therapist all my childhood.”

"It's an incredibly important profession. And an incredibly important resource to have." Seeing as Marcus's mug was empty as well, you bring back two glasses of water to the counter and sit down again, hoping that Sydney won't keep pushing. Or at least that she won't reveal things if she does. "My little sister is a psychology major. She's thinking about medical school next, and talking about different paths she might taken with her studies. Therapist being one of them."

“It’s a good profession.” Marcus admits easily. “Just- let her know, most therapists have their own therapists they see. It’s draining to take on everyone’s secrets and burdens, trying to do the best you can to give them the tools to help themselves. So tell her that there’s no shame in that.”

"I will." It isn't worth negating the kindness of Marcus's thoughts and advice by telling him that all three of the First Kids started therapy at the start of the campaign. It's the care he has for other people — people he has never met and may never meet ever in his life, that touches you so very deeply. "Thank you, Marcus. That's very kind of you."

He nods and picks up the glass of water, needing to wash down the remnants of the eggs before starting on the pancakes. “So, Juan, how did you and your lovely wife discover you were soulmates?” He asks curiously.

"Uhm..." Juan chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck and looking to Sydney for her permission to tell the story.

"Go ahead," she laughs. "I've go to start dinner prep. Tell him as much as you want."

"It's not exactly PG," he admits, still laughing softly to himself. "The polite version is that we compared tattoos."

Marcus isn’t the head of his department because he’s dimwitted. “One night stand?” He asks, lifting his brows in surprise. It wasn’t like he had never had them himself, but both men had preferred to be in relationships rather than sleep around. Not that he’s judging.

“I was willing to take whatever that goddess was willing to give me,” Juan admits without shame. “One night would have been a memory to cherish. But the universe said it should be a lifetime, instead.”

“I’m happy for you.” Marcus promises with a slap on the back for his old friend. “You deserve it. Glad you found her.”

“You say that now.” His friend smiles happily though, beaming at the commendation. “But now it’s going to be my mission to find you that girl with the hummingbird tattoo.”

Marcus smiles, a little sadly, but he just shrugs. “I’ll find her when I’m supposed to.” He reasons. “Knowing my luck, she’s happily married.”

“Not as happily as she would be with you.” He’s confident in that, and Juan looks to you to bolster his encouragements. “How could anybody not be ecstatic to have a guy this good, right?”

It feels rude. Like a trick from the universe that you do not like one bit. Like the powers that be are rubbing your nose in your defiance of their plans. “They’d have to be blind.” You offer, with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Sam is a good guy. He’s been a good boyfriend and has made you happy. Why are you suddenly thinking about someone else after an hour of knowing them? That’s utterly ridiculous. “You…never really know how the universe is going to have things work out.”

She’s just being polite. Marcus realizes that when he sees your smile, his stomach churning unhappily. It doesn’t matter, you’re seeing someone. A woman in a relationship has always been off limits to him. He doesn’t like, nor respect cheaters and yet he’s upset that you don’t seem that attracted to him. Or, you’re reluctantly attracted to him. He stares down at his pancakes and sighs. “All that matters to me if that my soulmate is happy.” He decides.

Juan and Marcus talk about this and that for the next few minutes, but you quickly finish your pancakes and excuse yourself. It was very nice to meet Marcus, and you tell him so, but you’re a little rattled by the possibility that was just laid out in front of you and you need a few deep breaths of fresh air before your break is over and you have to go back to solving guest’s dilemmas.

Juan doesn’t miss the way Marcus’s eyes follow you out of the room and he smirks. “Thinkin’ about it?” He asks, knowing you are the other man’s type.

“No.” He shakes his head quickly. “I mean, I would if she were single, but she’s not.” Deciding to change the subject, he leans in. “Did they heighten security here, or just the one agent?”

“Updated cameras and increased security personnel. We turned the spare office into a surveillance room but her Secret Service detail doesn’t butt in on anything they don’t need to.” Juan shrugs, knowing that things always change over time. “So far.”

That’s good and Marcus nods. “Sounds like you might have had some input.” He knows that Juan is very analytical, he would know what the weakness were in a place like this.

Juan snorts, taking a sip of his drink and shrugging vaguely. "My wife's childhood best friend is the First Daughter of the United States. If I can help her be safe, I'm going to."

“I can certainly understand that.” Marcus admits.

"It's a good system." Juan acknowledges. "She always has a detail agent nearby and the place needs the security because we've gotten a hell of a lot busier since the campaign last year."

“I’m sure.” Marcus snorts. “Everyone wants to claim they have some insider pull.” He says, a little cynical, but he looks around. “And I’m sure a lot of it is the fact that this place is a little gem.”

"272-year-old farmhouse with restored gardens and a barn and a gazebo from 1823. The place has had so many owners and been used for so many things." It's clear that Juan has nothing but affection for the place, and that he really has leaned into a fully civilian life. "I'm glad you came out to say hi," he tells Marcus honestly. "Hopefully we'll see more of you around here."

“With food like this?” Marcus groans, throwing his buddy a grin. “Those are the best damn pancakes that I’ve eaten in forever.”

"And considering you're a certified pancake expert, that says something." Juan chuckles. When Marcus hadn't shown up for a few weeks he was afraid that maybe he had said something wrong or that his old friend had moved on from the comradery they used to have, Apparently, neither was the case.

“Still love pancakes. It’s finding the time to eat them, that’s the problem.” He snorts. “It’s getting better now that I run the department, but after I ran into you? I was flying out two days later.”

"Sounds like you earned a day to relax." Sounds like he earned a lot more than just one day, but Juan knows how the Bureau works. A single day can sometimes be a miracle to come by. "There's books and board games in the library if you want to stay and spend some time relaxing."

“What do you have going on?” Marcus asks, tilting his head curiously.

“It’s…board game night.” As silly and domestic as it sounds, it’s a nice tradition that they’ve managed to keep going among friends. “Every month we have a group of friends over and we do a potluck for dinner. Just to unwind and be social. Just catch up, eat some good food, and play board games. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

“I don’t want to impose.” Marcus shakes his head, wondering if he’s so desperate that it sounds like great evening or if it just really was.

“It’s not imposing,” Juan assured him. “We bring new friends all the time. There’s about six of us usually, so it fluctuates depending on how many other people we bring or if someone can’t make it.”

“Well, is there a store or something?” He asks. “I can pick up some wine or something to contribute.”

“Old Town has some good liquor stores.” The historic district of Alexandria has become increasingly popular in the last several years, and the revitalization of the neighborhood has helped the inn as well.

“Anything else you could possibly want?” Marcus asks seriously. He’s willing to go get anything that could be thought of, the prospect of not spending the night alone incredibly cheering.

“Get whatever you want,” Juan encourages. “Every once in a while someone will show up with something they’ve never tried just try to it together. So really — anything you want.”

“Okay.” Marcus grins, excited about this and reaches out to slap Juan on the back. “Do you still ride bikes or have you given that up?”

"Hell no." Juan tuts, glad to see the smile back on Marcus's face. "My Indian is back at our house. We take rides when we've got time off together."

“That’s good. Although the rides have taken a pause since the pregnancy, right?” Marcus asks. “I can’t imagine a doctor signing off on a pregnant woman on the back of a bike.”

“Yeah…these days we take rides in the station wagon.” He chuckles at that, and Juan knows how ridiculously domestic it sounds but he really doesn’t care. He’s in love with his life in a very unexpected way, and that’s okay. “It’ll be nice to have someone to ride with again.”

“I can imagine.” Marcus is missing that, but on the bright side, he rides when and where he wants. “Do you guys know what you’re having yet?” He asks.

“Not yet.” Juan is excited, though, as evidenced by the way he lights up when asked about it. “It’s still too early to find out. Obviously we don’t care, as long as they’re healthy and happy.”

“Congrats, man, you’re living the dream, you know that?” As envious as he can admit to being, he’s also incredibly happy for Juan. “You deserve it. Especially after, you know…”

“Life is totally different now.” Leaving the Bureau is what was best for Juan. He knows that now, even if it was a painful decision to make back then. “I’m not going to ever downplay the things in my past, but the future is looking pretty fucking good, man.”

Completely understanding the fact that Juan doesn’t want to talk, he nods. “I’m happy for you. Truly.”

“I appreciate that, man.” Juan grins and pats Marcus on the shoulder. “Enjoy some time in town and come on back here around seven tonight. Syd isn’t working the dinner rush tonight so we’ll all be able to relax.”

“That sounds good.” The comfortable jeans and a sweater will still look sharp enough for game night and he sends his friend a smile before he walks out of the kitchen.

Things have calmed down in the lobby when you return to the front desk to pick up a few papers and check in on your concierge before retreating into your office for the rest of your shift. The inn may have calmed down but you're still spinning wildly on the idea that your soulmate might have walked through the door of the inn this morning with absolutely no fanfare and a nervous smile on his incredibly handsome face.

Nope. Stop it. Sam is coming for board game night tonight and you really fucking like him. Don't give up your whole stance on freedom of happiness just because some absolutely dishy FBI agent has your tattoo.

"Everything going okay, Malachi?" You will be professional, and not a blithering mass of nervous energy. Even if it takes all the energy you have to force it.

“Everything’s fantastic, we had another couple call to book a room for next weekend. So we officially will have no vacancies.” He reports proudly, like he had recruited the couple himself.

"Good. That's actually excellent. That means we have no vacancies at any point for two week on either side of Valentine's Day unless someone cancels." It's always possible. After all, break up happen around that particular holiday. But with the way they've been booking rooms lately, they should be able to fill a hole more easily than not. "I'm going to go to my office and work on the schedule. If you need me, just call."

“Of course.” Malachi cranes his neck as that handsome guy walks out to a beautiful motorcycle. “But before you go.” He hums. “Who is that?”

You can't help but chuckle, your concierge's obvious interest making you recognize the ridiculousness of the whole situation all over again. "That's Juan's friend," you tell him, gathering up your paperwork. "He'll be around more, and he's allowed into the kitchen. So you know he's special."

“And does Juan’s friend have a name?” He asks, smirking slightly.

"Special Agent Marcus Pike." You smirk right back at him, giving Marcus's title along with his name. By now Agent Bailey has probably done an entire workup on the agent. Why wouldn't she?

“Special Agent.” Because it’s the two of you and there’s no guest around, Malachi watches out the window with unabashed interest. “He can mount me like he mounts that bike any time.”

"Mal!" There's no reason for you to be taken aback by that comment considering how well you know Malachi Debose, but you still find yourself stifling a laugh with wide eyes. You tell yourself to joke, ignoring the twist in your chest at the idea of Marcus with anyone else. It's not up to you. He's his own person. And he might not even be your soulmate to begin with! "I'm pretty sure he's straight, honey, but you never know. It would not be the first guy you've swept out of the closet who didn't even realize they were in there in the first place."

He sighs dramatically, even though he’s smirking proudly. “You’re right.” He admits. “We’ll see how mister Special Agent Marcus Pike acts and then I’ll decide.”

"Behave yourself." Is the playful warning you give him before turning and nodding to Agent Bailey. "Time to sit in the office while I swear at my computer," you tell her. As the Secret Service agent who is with you most of the time, Kendra Bailey has learned your past, your friends, your job, and your habits like a book. She appreciates that you're not throwing yourself into politics because it means her days are a little calmer than they could be, but the coming and going of all sorts of people through the inn on a daily basis presents its own challenges.

She nods, already curious about the FBI agent that she’s encountered here. It’s not unusual to run background checks on people who continuously hang around the inn, and it sounds like he will become a fixture for the foreseeable future. “Of course, Hummingbird.”

You groan softly, realizing that that is going to get said around Marcus Pike at some point or other, and just try to shake it off for now. "You can call me by my name around here, you know." She won't. You've had this conversation more than once, but sometimes you think you'll never get used to being ma'am or Hummingbird at all times to your Secret Service detail.

“Yes ma’am.” She nods, both of you aware that she’s not going to break protocol like that. Instead, she’s turning to the chair that has been placed outside your office, tucked into a discreet corner so it’s not completely obvious that you are being guarded. Giving you the illusion of privacy.

"Someday I'm going to get you to at least come into the office." There are rules. A hell of a lot of them, in fact, and you know that they exist for a reason. But Agent Bailey is allowed to be in your office with you, and you hope it won't take your mother's entire first term in office for her to get comfortable enough with you to do that.

“I understand that, but if I’m in your office, you won’t concentrate.” She reminds you with a small, unseen smile. The first time you had insisted, you hadn’t gotten anything done.

"Too social for my own good, I guess." With a small smile exchanged between the two of you, you nod in agreement before heading down the hall to your office. She's right, and you both know it.

Outside, a snazzy sports car pulls up. Not too flashy, because a junior congressman from Maryland can’t be seen throwing money away frivolously, but sporty enough to make him grin as he changes gears. The door pops open, sunglasses tossed on the dash and Sam hustles out of his car, eager to see you.

"Hey Sam." Malachi looks up from the desk when the door opens and offers up a smile. Professional, but friendly. So far, Congressman Chase hasn't done anything to warrant the cold shoulder. "Is she expecting you?"

“Not until later, but I was hoping to surprise her.” He admits, sending the concierge a wink. “She in her office?”

"Just went in to work on the schedule." Malachi reports, but his smile morphs from professional to earnest in half a second. "The new software is giving her a headache and a half. I bet coming in with a cup of coffee with also be a welcome surprise."

“You are a good man, Malachi.” Sam slaps the antique reception stand and grins. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” He lifts his brows and points at him as he changes directions to the kitchen to beg a cup of coffee from Sydney.

A knock on the kitchen door is odd but not unheard of, and Sydney glances back over her shoulder when the swinging door pushes open to admit the six-foot Congressman she now affectionately calls, "Sam Sam! As happy as I am to see you, your lady friend is not in the kitchen."

“I know.” Sam tosses the chef an easy grin. “A little birdie told me that she might appreciate a cup of coffee, so I’m here to be her runner.”

Sydney smirks, never ceasing in her work but nodding to the coffee pot in the corner of the kitchen. “Go right ahead. I’m sure she’ll be grateful.”

“Thank you.” He immediately beelines for the coffee maker, intent on also making himself a cup. Though he would prefer a cocktail. “It smells great in here, like always.” He tosses over his shoulder.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” She hums happily in return. “I made a lasagna for game night. Are you staying?”

“Unless an emergency session is call.” Sam snorts. “And you know half those crusty old bastards don’t want to work.” He adds some creamer and sweetener to his, doctors yours and turns back. “Is this the lasagna with the pancetta?” He asks, giving her a pleading look.

“It is, and I did a little something different with the ricotta layer this time, so you’ll have to tell me what you think.” One hand shoos him playfully away, but she does laugh. “I’ll feed you later. Go see your lady.”

“Thank you!” He laughs as well, zipping out the door to head in to see you. Hopefully you aren’t working on anything too important that you can’t steal away some time for him.

Two short knocks on your door could be anyone, but you save your progress in working on next week’s schedule and call for them to come in. It’s probably Malachi with a guest accommodation question, which is no problem. You can hit pause on scheduling the housekeeping staff around their various class schedules to answer just about anything.

After getting the okay to enter, Sam juggles the cups and pokes his head in the door. “Can you spare a few minutes, beautiful?” He asks.

The grin that spreads on your face is surprise and relief, and you hop up from your dream to open the door fully. “If that’s coffee in your hands, I can spare more than just a few.”

“Of course it is, fixed just the way you like it.” While he doesn’t drink it nearly as sweet as you do, he also doesn’t make fun of you for it.

“To what do I owe the early visit?” The door clicks shut behind him and you sit back in your chair with a happy sigh.

“We let out early.” Sam explains. “Figured we could spend some time together .”

“I’m always glad to see you.” It’s true. It genuinely is. Which is why you hate the nagging guilt of the fact that you had just been telling yourself to stop speculating about your possible soulmate and focus on work.

“That’s a good thing.” Despite the idea that dating the First Daughter was good for his career, Sam genuinely cares for you. It might not be the passionate love he had imagined years ago, but he’s mature enough to understand that a solid connection was a good thing.

“So your meeting went alright?” The committee that he’s on had an unofficial lunch meeting today, which must have gone well if he’s already here saying hello. “I was afraid they’d have you all day and you’d miss out in lasagna and the new Clue game that Sydney’s sister picked up.”

“No.” Sam snorts. “They wanted it done as quickly as possible.” He tells you. “I’ve got to admit that I’ve never seen people that hate to work more than politicians.”

“Well that’s hardly encouraging,” you snort, and shake your head before taking a sip of hot coffee. “I guess you’ll just have to whip them into shape, Congressman. No two ways about it.”

“I’m trying.” He laughs and shrugs. “Right now I equate it to herding cats.” He jokes, sitting down on the other side of your desk and watching you for a moment while you savor your coffee.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever called a member of the House of Representatives.” The two of you share a laugh, and you shift in your seat a little with an awkward expression before talking again. “I…got an email this morning. From Mom’s office. Informing me of my first few expected photo ops as First Daughter.” It’s a big part of the job, for you at least, to look the part and play the part and help the country to see your mother as not just the president, but a family-oriented professional as well. Being the first female President has its challenges and your mother is plowing into them head on. Which, honestly? You give her a lot of credit for. “They asked if I would be willing to release some social media photos from our Valentine’s date…” The fact that you hadn’t planned one yet is slightly beyond the point. Now you pretty much have to.

“Well, what kind of pictures would you like?” Sam asks easily, aware that you don’t relish the attention, but it’s part of the job. “We can do a dinner at home, appeal to the base of Americans.” He suggests.

“I don’t love the idea of someone recognizing an aspect of your house or neighborhood and you getting doxed for it,” you admit ruefully. It would have to be Sam’s house, since you don’t actually have one. You can’t exactly put out photos of your attic apartment and expect the White House press core not to make noises. “I was thinking we could put the spotlight on a minority-owned small business or go to some low-key arts event? If they’re going to ask me to be in the spotlight then I want to use it for good.”

“Do you want to decide?” He asks, aware that you can be quite choosy at times. He doesn’t really mind. “Or do you want me to come up with something?”

“It’s probably easier if I figure it out.” You admit. It’s not your favorite option, all things considered, but since it’s dumb for you to be even vaguely upset that your boyfriend didn’t announce he had secret plans already in the works — which your stupid romantic comedy loving brain had hoped for but knew was a longshot — it’s better to just be practical. “So the Secret Service can tell me if wherever I pick is insecure or something like that. Even though I can’t imagine that anybody is out to get me. That’s absurd.”

“You’d be surprised what humans are capable of.” Sam reminds you, having read some of the most horrific reports imaginable. He likes that you are practical, even if you are a bit naive.

“Not a super fun thing to hear from your boyfriend, but okay.” It’s nothing you can’t brush off, and you do so with a wave of your hand. “There is also a state dinner coming up in a few weeks that I definitely do not want to go to without you.”

“I’m available.” He promises. “I’ve got a couple of events in my district coming up. But I’ll mark that on my calendar.”

“Thank you.” Though you aren’t blind to the ways that attending these things helps him, you appreciate the company. You aren’t effortlessly charismatic like your brother or a star student with enigmatic insights like your sister. You’re the least comfortable in the public eye out of your whole family, and that is what it is. At some point in the night when he inevitably veers off to shake hands and schmooze politically, you’ll sit quietly at your table and smile politely while you wait for Sam to come back, and that’s okay. “I really really appreciate it.”

Sam huffs, sending you a small smirk. “A night where you are wearing a beautiful dress, we eat an elegant dinner, what’s not to love?” He leaves the part about making connections unspoken, both of you know how this game is worked. “And maybe you can come spend the night at my place after.”

"What an absolutely scandalous suggestion." One hand clutches your nonexistent pearls, pretending to be aghast, but you throw him a wink. Intimacy in your relationship unfortunately does have to be scheduled at a certain point...just on the basis that you have a Secret Service agent you can't simply ditch, and he has a personal assistant that might be even more invasive than the Secret Service. "I love it."

“Good.” Sam smirks back at you and sends you his own wink. “I’ve missed a cute little snore, and I need to get some cuddling in.”

"I do not snore." Despite pouting at him – and knowing that you do, in fact, snore – you end up grinning. "But we have been low on cuddle time lately, I agree."

“Yeah, I know my job is hectic and yours isn’t a walk in the park.” He acknowledges wholeheartedly. “But I want this to work. Maybe we just need to move in together.” He hadn’t meant to just blurt that out, but he’s been thinking about it.

“I—what?” You nearly spit out the sip of coffee you had just taken and sit up arrow straight in your chair, staring at him without the ability to stop yourself. “You—you want me to—to move in with you?” It’s never been discussed. Not really. At least not with a timeline, and that’s probably your fault. You’re so prone to jumping into relationships head first that you had told yourself you would move slow with Sam. That…seems to not be the case now.

“It doesn’t have to be now.” He promises. “Just something to consider. That’s all. We would get more time together.”

"I can honestly say I was not expecting that today." It's shaken you up a little, if you're honest, but you reach over your desk and squeeze his hand before leaning out of your chair to kiss him.

“That’s not a bad thing, is it?” It’s not quite the reaction he was expecting, if he is honest with himself.

"No, not at all!" You're quick to reassure him, realizing that Sam's expression is a little more guarded than usual. You've disappointed him. That's not a feeling you like at all. Not even a little. "I'd say the fact that my boyfriend wants to spend more time with me is a very good thing." If it's such a good thing, why is your mouth dry and why are you all tense with nerves? "And I want that, too. You just surprised me, that's all."

“Of course we need to talk about it more in depth.” He relaxes slightly, happy that you are at least open to the idea.

"Is that...something you want to talk about soon?" There are ideas rolling over in your head with varying levels of comfort, but the fact is that you hadn't realized that Sam was already there. Sure you had said your I love yous already, but you really had been trying to go slower this time, and that pace had seemed to suit Sam just fine. And why is it suddenly now that your mind is stuck on the idea that he isn't your soulmate? Is it just because you met a man who could be? You had always told yourself it didn't matter before now...

“We are coming up on our one-year anniversary of dating.” He reminds you, wondering why all of a sudden you look like you’ve seen a ghost. He’s been patient, letting you move slowly since you were afraid of diving in too much too soon, but this is the natural next step. Otherwise, it will be random sleepovers whenever you can manage it for the rest of your lives and Sam doesn’t want that. “I figured we could discuss what our next steps were.” He smiles softly. “I want the next steps, whenever you’re ready.”

"You're right." He is right. The logic is there, and the sweetness, and you do genuinely like him. In fact, loving him came easily and naturally. It's just that today has you a little shaken up and you don't want to admit it to yourself. Any other day and you would have been ecstatically throwing yourself into his arms. "You're absolutely right. This is definitely next." Composing yourself into a smile and reminding yourself to goddamn relax, you pick up your now cold coffee and finish the cup. "Why don't we pick a night this week to cook dinner together and talk through what we want our future to look like?"

“That works.” He flashes you the boyish grin you claim to love and nods. “Little food. Little wine, little….cuddling while we talk. It’s exactly what we need. You’ve been peddle to the mettle lately, and so have I. It will be good to decompress and hash out our concerns.”

"Perfect." And you will, you tell yourself sternly, get your shit together by then.

“But tonight…” he winks at you. “I’m going to whoop your ass at Clue.”

Because it's your turn to host, your small apartment has been cleaned top to bottom in preparation for the night. Sydney took care of making dinner, you have dessert in the refrigerator, and you have it on the authority of the group chat that garlic bread and salad are both coming as well. Juan said he and Marcus were supplying drinks, so everything is set up with plenty of time for everyone to arrive.

Agent Bailey is sitting on the couch waiting for her evening relief so she can go home to her own family and Sam is setting a stack of mismatched plates on the dining room table when Juan, Marcus, Sydney, and her sister Anna Leigh all show up very promptly on the turn of the hour.

Marcus is a little nervous aware that he has a tenuous tie to the game night, but he is quickly at ease when everyone starts greeting people like old friends. He hadn’t quite known what to get, so he had bought several bottle of whiskey and wine, figuring someone would appreciate it. The bottle of ‘76 Statesman Reserve a personal favorite of his and the little store he had stopped at had one last bottle.

"Hey, we didn't scare Marcus off!" Maybe you're a little happy to see him, but you excuse that as being glad that Juan has his friend back and ardently ignore the way your chest clenches when he walks into your little apartment.

“Hope you don’t mind.” He offers instantly, holding back from flirting like he wants to. You are seeing someone. “But I brought gifts.” He holds up the bottle, the others in his bag.

“Statesman.” You practically groan with delight at the sight of the bottle. “When we were campaigning in Kentucky, my little brother and I toured their distillery, I love this stuff.” Fighting the instinct to offer him a hug — and it really is an instinct — you grin and wander toward the kitchen to complete introductions. “You already know Syd and Juan, of course. The beautiful agent of chaos currently throwing garlic bread in the oven is Syd’s sister Anna Leigh, and the intimidating lady on the sofa with the New York Times crossword in her lap is Agent Bailey. I don’t know if you two officially met earlier or not. Looking around, Sam is not in sight, but you chew your lip for a second and smile. “My other half seems to have disappeared, but I’m sure he’ll be right back.”

“Oh, okay.” He shouldn’t be disappointed that your boyfriend is here. That’s what he keeps telling himself. “Congressman from Maryland, right?” Okay, he might have read up on you.

“Right.” There’s a note of something off in Marcus’s voice but you can’t figure out what, so you just smile. “I promise we don’t use official titles over board games.”

“Good.” He cracks a lighthearted grin. “I hate when I’m made in charge of the jail in Monopoly.” He jokes. He hands you the bottle and looks around the little apartment. “Anything I can do to help?”

“I think we’re just waiting for Issy and then everyone will be here. So for now if you want to maybe pour drinks while we all get settled?” This is always an informal setting and you want everyone to feel relaxed as much as possible. “Let me give you the grand tour first?” What a stupid thing to say in your little, tiny space. But now you’ve said it, so you just have to pretend it was something charming to say instead of awkward.

“That sounds good.” Marcus quickly agrees, although it’s obvious that there’s not much to the small space. “The private sanctum.”

“Eat it kitchen.” Is the space you’re standing in, with a too-big dining room table that is also your prep counter because there is basically no counter space — just enough to put a few grocery bags on and nothing more. “I have an unholy love of dinner parties, hence the big table. Over here is the living room. Mandatory bar cart with the tv, and as many throw pillows as the couch can hold.” Agent Bailey currently has her arm resting on the head of a pillow shaped like a horse that you brought back from a campaign trip out West. “Bathroom is down the hall, just here.” The door is closed, so that must be where Sam is. “And just turn the corner and you’re in the bedroom-slash-library.” You have to call it that — you really have to, because the entire room is covered in wall to wall bookcases that are pretty much entirely full. The only exceptions are where your sleigh bed and writing desk sit on opposite ends of the tight room. “It’s more library than anything else.”

“Obviously like to read.” He nods. “What genre? Or is it too embarrassing to mention in company?”

“I’m not embarrassed at all to read romance novels.” A whole section of the shelf by your bed is dedicated to them, in fact. Healthy sexuality and healthy explorations of that sexuality are vital, but you won’t get that far into the topic. “I have a lot of various things here, but the majority are probably mystery, thrillers, and classics from all over the world.” The shelf you’re standing by has your collection of writing by both F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, and you smile. “Of course, some of the classics are romances. That’s to be expected.”

“They are. I find that if you limit yourself in what you read, you are missing out.” He looks over your shelf with interest. “It looks like a wonderful collection.”

“Thank you. A compliment for my books is the highest compliment possible.” There’s a warm smile on your lips when the bathroom door pulls open a few feet away and you feel like you’ve been caught although there isn’t a single thing wrong about showing a new friend around your apartment. There’s no reason to jump out of your skin, but here you are with burning cheeks feeling embarrassed.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Sam doesn’t frown, but he wonders who this man is and why he is in your bedroom.

"Hey." Your smile does widen of its own accord, and you motion between the men in a sort of vaguely formal way that is definitely odd for you. "Sam, this is Marcus. One of Juan's old friends. He came by the inn earlier today and we thought it would be nice to introduce him to the group." It's awful, and very unnecessary, how heavy your tongue feels when you go to make the introduction the opposite way. "Marcus, this is Sam. My boyfriend."

It’s a little awkward, Marcus can admit that but he extends his hand. “Nice to meet you, Sam.” He offers, smiling in a friendly, first meeting kind of way. “My connection to the group is through Juan.” He explains. “We were at the academy together.”

"Ah, a government man." That seems to win Sam's approval, though his handshake might be just a hair tighter than it would otherwise be based on the tension in the air. "Well, welc—"

"Babe!" Sydney's voice comes loud and clear from the other room as the door opens and the sound of chaotic friends can be heard. "Issy's here! Let's gooo!"

The introductions are interrupted and it’s probably not a bad thing. Marcus lets go of Sam’s hand and immediately makes for the door. “Guess that’s our queue.”

“Coming!” You call back, eager to be standing anywhere but your doorway between these two men. “Issy is a friend from college.” That’s the easy explanation you give Marcus as Sam steers you back to the kitchen with his hand on your back. “Syd, Anna Leigh, and Issy and I were suite mates at Mount Holyoke.”

Marcus nods, committing everyone to memory. “Nice to meet all of you. Thank you for letting me join you tonight.”

Getting everything set up doesn’t take much longer, and a buffet of cheesy garlic bread, a huge salad, Sydney’s pancetta lasagna, and the lemon tiramisu you made for dessert is all laid out on the counter. Everyone digs in and says a loud chorus of rowdy good nights when your Secret Service detail has its changing of the guard in the middle of it all. It’s a lot, and it’s chaos, but it’s so comforting because these are all people you love to spend time with. Even Marcus, as new as he is, fits right into the group effortlessly.

“Oh! Sydney.” Marcus dives back into the bag and pulls out a bottle of sparkling white grape juice and some sodas and grenadine. “I figured you might like my family’s version of Shirley Temple’s?” He offers. “So you can have a mocktail with the ladies?”

“Absolutely!” Syd’s eyes light up at the offer, and she brings her overstuffed plate over to the table to sit beside her husband. In her favorite baggy sweatshirt, no one could ever tell she’s pregnant, but one of her hands rests on the side of her belly anyway. “That sounds fantastic.”

“So my grandmother used to make these for all the kids, so we could feel special too.” Marcus explains as he grabs a wine glass and starts to mix together the non-alcoholic drink. “It had to be sparkling grape juice because of the bottle shape.” He chuckles now, but back then? He had felt grown up. “When she died, we served these at her wake.”

“That’s so sweet.” Sydney awes softly as Marcus carefully pours out the drink. “These are Birdie’s favorite, actually,” she points her thumb back at you while she chats at him. “We usually spike them with rum, of course. To be a Shirley Temple Black. I can’t remember the last time I just had a regular old Shirley Temple.”

“A dirty Shirley?” Marcus gasps in faux horror. “The best way to spike that is with Statesman.”

“On it!” You hop up from the table immediately to grab a glass and line up next to Sydney at the counter. “I’ve heard of people doing them with rum and vodka, but never with whiskey. I have to know.”

He chuckles and nods. “You won’t regret it. The grape juice plays off the smoky, oaky flavors very nicely.” He tells you. “It’s almost better than a robust bouquet on a red.”

“I can’t claim to know anything about wine, but I’m trying to learn.” Sam prefers wine, and you’ve been trying to not feel foolish when people discuss wine pairings at official dinners. It’s been a fairly deep learning curve. “But I’ll take your word for it.”

“More of a whiskey girl?” Marcus asks, filing away the information even though it’s not like he’s going to use it. One of those odd little quirks of his time in the Bureau, he tries to read people.

“Always have been.” As evidenced by the Whiskey Makes Me Frisky sweater still stuff in your closet from college, which won’t see the light of day again until your mother is out of office. “You too?” Your eyes widen immediately and you stumble over correcting yourself. “Guy, I mean? Whiskey guy?”

Marcus laughs and gives you a guilty grin. “I learned to enjoy wine. My ex was a wino to the point where we honeymooned in Napa Valley.” He snorts. “But my first love was a Jack and Coke.”

“The next time you’re sick, have a whiskey and ginger beer.” The advice comes as he hands you your glass but he looks skeptical. “I mean, it’s a good drink no matter what, but I swear it knocks out my colds faster than anything else.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Marcus hums and decides that he will make one for himself. “Tell me what you think.”

One sip has you groaning, and you bring the glass back to the table like you’ve found the Holy Grail. “Sammy, try this. I know you’re not usually big in whiskey, but this is fantastic.”

Sam wrinkles his nose, really uninterested in trying it, but he politely takes a sip. Pleasantly surprised, he makes a face. “Huh. That’s not as horrible as I imagined.”

“And that,” you look back at Marcus and laugh. “Is the highest compliment he’s ever given a whiskey drink.”

Marcus chuckles politely and motions towards the table. “There’s a nice Cabernet that he might like better.” He offers.

“That sounds perfect.” You move back to the counter to collect a wine glass, corkscrew, and the bottle to bring back, knowing that Sam will open it far more neatly than you can.

“So how has everybody been?” Prompting conversation once everyone is at the table gets the ball rolling nicely, and conversation starts as everyone starts to eat their dinner.

“Well, everyone knows that Sydney is expecting.” Juan boasts proudly, obviously loving the prospect of becoming a father. “But she started experiencing her first cravings.”

“Oooo, what are they?” Issy sits up in her chair immediately. “Please tell me it’s something non-gourmet. If this baby is a food snob I’m not going to have anything to tease you about.”

“Right now….” Juan grins and sends his wife an utterly besotted look. “Ranch flavored bugles.”

“Oh my god!” Both Issy and Anna Leigh practically scream with laughter immediately and your jaw hits the table with maniacal giggle.

“I know,” Syd moans in embarrassment. “I know! The baby likes ranch!”

“There must be a joke there somewhere.” Marcus laughs, enjoying the lighthearted atmosphere of the group and how they are all so easy with each other.

"Syd's current greatest fear is having a kid who doesn't care about food." You explain, picking up a forkful of lasagna. "If they turned out to not like food or hockey, she'll be doomed."

“I see.” He chuckles, although he himself had a less refined pallet when he was younger. Now he enjoys trying new things.

"They're exaggerating." Sydney promises, not wanting her husband's old friend to think she's that much of a snob. "Obviously no kid comes out loving caviar and oxtail."

“No, I can see why you would expect your child to give you cravings for something like this.” He praises, lifting a forkful of the lasagna. “I gave my mom cravings for salami and bologna. Which she couldn’t eat.”

"My mom had a lot of cheese cravings." Not expecting baby-oriented conversation was probably an oversight on your part, but it's fun and your best friend just absolutely glows whenever it's brought up. "With me it was gruyere, with my brother it was cheddar, and with my little sister it was asiago." The memory makes you grin, and you laugh a little, mostly to yourself. "She ate so many asiago bagels when she was pregnant with June."

“Ohhhhh I could see how that could be an easy craving.” Issy snorts. “I have cravings for those all the time and I’m not pregnant.”

"Right?" You're nodding in agreement instantly. "I'm honored that my pregnancy craving was gruyere. That's quality cheese."

“Maybe the craving will change to truffle cheddar fries.” Marcus suggests with a grin. “With ranch.”

“See, this is the kind of encouragement we should be thinking about. Positive thinking all the way.” Sydney grins, beaming across the table to her husband’s friend. Even if her hunch about the true nature of Marcus’s soulmate marks isn’t true, he’s still a good addition to the group. “What’s everybody else been up to.”

Everyone starts talking and Marcus leans back. Watching the dynamic of the group and it’s obvious that everyone is comfortable with each other. Talking over one another and laughing, poking fun in a gentle way. It seems as if Juan - and you - have a solid friends group.

The tempo of the night is unchanged from any other — there is as much laughter and fun as any game night you’ve had in years. The joy of having your friends nearby is never tempered, but tonight it is…just a little bit different. As for first time ever — with your boyfriend sitting next to you — you have to wonder if maybe your soulmate is actually sitting there at the table. And what will you do when it isn’t the man with his arm around you?

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #love triangle

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saerins · 1 month

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PREV: #004 THIS SPARK, IS IT REAL? 𖧧 #005 THE ICE SURRENDERS 𖧧 NEXT: #006 COMFORT IN FAMILIARITY ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — the closer you get to itoshi sae, the closer you are to the part of it all that you’d rather skip: your mother, your problems, your baggage.

content: itoshi sae x female reader. fluff/angst. tw: reader’s mom—calls her a whore. profanity, verbal abuse, switching povs, jealousy, unrequited love, making out. word count: 9.6k

༝༚༝༚ sorry for the absurdly long wait !!! as you know i was sick and out of it for the past week so this chapter was difficult to get out :( but anw it's here :) gimme a while more for those of you who asked for extras hehe but i hope you guys enjoy this for now !! mwah ily

“who? that guy that you’re always reported with?”

bianca sighs, her bad mood more than obvious to her manager, who’s been with her for three years now. considering she’s been there since her career started, bianca’s not surprised she can tell her moods from just a single look.

“yeah, he’s been… cold lately.”

at least, bianca seems to think so. sae hasn’t been this cold to her since they first got close. she’s biting on her lips, staring at their message thread, her messages going unresponded for a while now.

“bianca, you like him, right?”

her manager’s question goes unresponded, bianca’s lips tightly sealed. but that’s enough of an answer for her.

“why don’t you just tell him? who knows he might like you too? you two spend a lot of time together for two busy people.”

the words give her hope, but it’s not very many. bianca had hoped that after at least a year and more of getting to know each other that maybe sae would start to feel something, anything. it doesn’t look like it. he’s never once initiated hanging out with her, and no matter how many times she’s bugged him for something as simple as, for example, wearing his jerseys, he wouldn’t even budge.

what if people misunderstand, his lousy excuse. isn’t that just another way to say he doesn’t even want it?

“are you sure he’s not just busy?” her manager asks again upon her silence.

sure, that is the logical train of thought. sae’s one of the best midfielders the world has ever seen. not even counting that, he’s beautiful—a face and body that many brands would want to invest in, want help to sell their brand with. it’s entirely plausible that he has a packed schedule, and bianca would think that, if not for the fact that he’s been acting weird lately.

sae always plans his sleep—that’s why he refused her invitation to meet with her friends that night, isn’t it? he was tired and wanted to sleep, but he showed up the next day looking exhausted, more than bianca’s ever seen. apart from that, he even followed that mystery girl from that night; bianca recognises you from your profile picture.

who are you, exactly?

bianca finds herself scrolling through your profile—she already has your username memorised somehow. you don’t post much, and you don’t really post anything with anybody, just things like scenery from work travels and activities like baking, and you’re not tagged in much either, except for this one girl named sumi. still, all she’s able to gather from you is your name and that you work at a sports magazine.

is that all you want from sae? interviews and favours?

it better be.

“anyway,” bianca’s manager sighs as she prepares to go home for the day, having settled everything else regarding bianca’s schedule. “you have the whole week free after tomorrow, you should go to japan and surprise him if you want. maybe take some of that anxiety off,” she suggests, noting that bianca’s face will be perpetually pouting if she doesn’t get to the root of her questions.

on the couch, bianca sits up, the idea registering in her head, grinning from ear to ear. “you’re right,” she agrees, immediately making arrangements to fly to tokyo. “i’ll do just that.”

she’ll go to tokyo, she’ll talk to sae and try to wring it out of him. if it really is nothing, then great, but bianca’s already planning her next course of action if it isn’t.

bianca doesn’t know who you are just yet, but one thing she wants you to get clear in your head: sae is hers and hers alone.

maybe not now, but one day she’ll make it happen. and until then, she doesn’t want anyone to cut in.

you blink and stare in shock as you see the heart on your screen. it must be accidental. has to be. sae doesn’t look like the type to send hearts. you shake it off, bringing yourself back down to earth.

it’s the next day after your drinking session with otoya and the others. your mind’s pretty hazy; you don’t really remember much especially on the later half of the night—you only remember taking a leap of faith and dragging sae into seven minutes of heaven with you. you’re sure you did nothing at all, except talk, but even what you talked about is pretty foggy. what you do remember is that he said he isn’t involved with anyone. you smile just thinking of it.

maybe it’s stupid, possibly falling head over heels for someone like sae who has many more admirers than you can imagine, but you can’t stop yourself from seeing the signs that he’s sending you.

just his texts are proof alone—you know he’s not someone who wastes his time on people he doesn’t see in his future. and you want to think that he’s not treating you like this over something as simple as pure friendship. but you don’t want to get your hopes up. you don’t think you’ll actually believe it until he tells you himself.

after all, there’s still the whole thing with bianca. even if he says he’s not involved with anyone, with the way all the other guys talk about her and sae, you can’t help but feel there’s something more there. but maybe that’s not something you have to concern yourself with for now.

yeah, because right now, there’s an even bigger monster that stands on the other side of your door, pounding on it like the world will end if you don’t answer her. her shrill voice is enough to give you headaches that could last a year, and her demands—even worse.

“i swear to god, y/n, if you don’t open this damn door before they get here i’m gonna kill you myself!”

four minutes now that you’ve been ignoring her. she hasn’t stopped to take a breath. it must be really urgent. she must’ve screwed up really bad. again. you’re pretty tired of it. you wish you’d given up on her already. sometimes.

there’s a stack of cash in your hands that you’re fiddling with. your hard-earned money. yours to supposedly spend as you please. supposedly. but what’s yours hasn’t been completely yours for a while now.

begrudgingly, you yank the door open, your eyes just short of a speck of anger—your mother’s wide eyes are much worse, not a speck of affection for her own daughter. you wonder why your own flesh and blood looks at you like that. you remember how kind sae’s eyes are; why can someone like him look at you like that while your own mother looks like… this?

“here. payment for this month, like i said,” you huff, nearly earning yourself a slap across the face again, except your mother’s holding it in. probably for a more appropriate time.

“not enough. need a bit more.”

you squint your eyes at her in disbelief. “you borrowed even more? we can barely afford—”

“then make yourself of use like your father was!” she cuts in, the disdain in her voice clear, like the day used to be. “really, all you need to do is not be a bitch by talking back and you can’t even do that. i should’ve aborted you when i got the chance.”

she spits those words out as if there was never a day that she loved you. she says them as if she was forced to have you. she storms off as if she has any right to demand you for anything.

you shouldn’t be abiding by them, but you can’t help it. the old picture of you and your parents when you were ten sits sourly at the edge of your study table, their once perfect smiles all smeared by recent memories, fading away as if they were just a fever dream.

“mom and dad will always love you, okay?”

is it a crime to want that loving woman back?

eita would be a good person to talk to about all this, given he knows a fair amount, but he doesn’t know how truly bad your mother’s gotten, and you’re not sure you want him to. you’ve burdened him enough, making him constantly worry about you even when he’s busy, and you’re not sure how much of it you can take from him without starting to feel guilty all over again.

and a part of you wants to warn sae that if he doesn’t want anything bad staining his reputation that he should stay away from you. but there’s the dominant part of you that wants to pursue what you want, without guilt or having to think about others, that wants to give yourself a chance at what makes you happy.

your mother has a tendency of taking them all away though. it wouldn’t be the first time.

for the first time, you find yourself wanting to count on someone other than eita, and for entirely different reasons. you’re texting the person who makes your heart beat faster without a second thought.

your fingers hover hesitantly over the send button. your mind plays the memories with shiro all over again. he used to give you the same feelings sae did. he used to make you think he was all green flags and clear skies and it’s eerily similar to what you feel now.

can you really trust yourself with this?

clumsily, your thumb deletes everything, putting in its place a lame excuse—i’m just feeling the monday blues kicking in early, save me.

maybe one day you’ll trust him enough to tell him about it. yeah, one day.

“why haven’t you told him yet?” eita asks you the next day, when you’ve given up holding strong in your house and decided to defect to his.

you’re out on his balcony, leaning against the back of the chair, enjoying the rare chilly weather of the afternoon. eita’s beside you, barely awake because he always sleeps in and today you just so happened to intrude on some of that time.

sae, for the most part, entertains you whenever he’s free, even now he’s still replying you. but no matter how good your life gets, you can’t get the ick of staying with someone who doesn’t really love you away. hence why you’re here, seeking escape once again. albeit in a different way than you used to.

although, with all the questioning you’re receiving, you think maybe you should’ve just toughed it out. still, you should’ve expected this topic to come up sooner or later. it’s not unreasonable for eita to get worried when you seem to be seeking him out more than usual anyway.

you sigh, it’s a headache that you’re too used to blocking out that when eita asks you about it you’re not too ready to answer him. “and say what? ‘hey, by the way, my mother’s a perpetual gambling addict who will ruin your entire reputation if word gets out at all’? no thank you.”

there’s a small pause when eita thinks your words through.

“what, you didn’t think of the same thing when hanging out with me?”

you look pointedly at him, arms crossed, wind swirling through your hair. “that’s different, we’re best friends, eita.”

eita chuckles, stretching his hand out and laying his head against it on the wooden table, staring at you. “what’s this now? so you got a crush on sae, huh?”

fuck. you curse at yourself internally when you realise what you’d just confessed to.

“didn’t know you two were even talking,” eita mumbles, maybe to himself with how soft he is right now. “guess it makes sense. that guy wouldn’t have taken care of you the whole night if there wasn’t something going on.”

you mirror eita’s position, looking back at him. “don’t tell me too much, but… is he like this with bianca too?”

yeah, you hate yourself for asking about that to someone who’s not sae, but you want to know what eita thinks. because unlike oliver and the others, you trust eita.

there’s a look that he gives you that you’re not too sure what to make of. it’s gentle, and a little unlike him that you might confuse him for actually being half-asleep and caught in his dreams. but he shrugs, looking away, “i mean, there’s a difference in the way he takes care of you two. if you ask me, if bianca asked him to stay he probably wouldn’t. if it came from you, i think he would.”

eita wants to do the opposite, lie a little and maybe turn you away from his friend. but it’s you. it’s someone he could never lie to. not anymore. and he’d rather stay your best friend than get blacklisted for lying to you.

he sees you heaving a sigh of relief.

“you really like him, huh?” he meant to say that in his head, but the words just roll off his tongue.

there’s a lot of other things you’d usually say to distract him and force a change in subject, but given how much you’re already keeping from him about how bad your mother’s really gotten, you feel like you owe him some form of transparency somewhere, as thanks for keeping you sane most of the time.

“yeah, i think so,” you say, the only hesitation in your voice coming from the fact that you’re not sure if you should be telling eita about this.

for his part, he isn’t falling apart. maybe because all along he knew somewhat that this day would come and that he still wouldn’t be ready, still wouldn’t be able to say he wants one person and one person only. but you’re already there. you’ve always been.

“first time you feeling this way?”

“eita, let’s not go there.”

“why not?”

you stop the conversation from going too quickly, regaining the balance. “so… it was true, then?” there’s a reason you say it in past tense. you hope it’s not still true, from a selfish perspective.

eita’s forced laughter is enough of an answer. he still graces you with an answer. “it still is, i guess.”

for the first time ever, the both of you are addressing this. a few years too late, admittedly, but considering you’re two people who hate being straight with each other about these things, it’s progress.

you remember the day the signs got too real to ignore. it was the day you ran. it was the day eita denied everything because he didn’t want you to but still lost you.

A FEW YEARS BACK

“yeah? you’re not gonna even tell me that things between us are off?” he spat, the frustration seeping through his voice, disdain on every syllable.

eita never used that tone of voice on you until that moment.

it was raining again. just like that night he first kissed you. you thought it would forever mean nothing, you thought it would be something comfortable—for the both of you. something with nothing attached.

“answer me, then. you really gonna date that fucker shiro of all people?”

eita was young, and his fame was steadily rising. he had multiple people throwing themselves at him, wanting anything he could offer and yet everything he was offering to you, you threw away.

not that you necessarily knew what was going on in eita’s head, but given how you were acting, you might have an idea. that was why, right? that was why you were pulling away.

there’s thunder, and dozens of cars passing by, rainwater covering the both of you from head to toe because eita saw you for the first time in weeks and he just couldn’t wait to talk to you any longer. you had been avoiding him for so long now, were you even friends anymore?

your normal cheerful expression was clouded over, your glare more than enough warning that he shouldn’t be doing all of this but eita wasn’t going to stop no matter what. not until he got everything out. he was going to wait until you responded to him because you were apparently so fucking good at avoiding people.

“and how is that any of your business?”

eita barely recognised the person talking to him. since when did you learn to hate him that much?

“oh, i’m sorry, i must’ve missed the fucking memo that we weren’t talking or fucking anymore,” eita spat, the sarcasm dripping off his tongue something he used to use on everyone but you. not now, though. he was too angry for that.

you scoffed, walking one, two steps forward, both of you just an arm’s length apart. “then hear this, eita: we’re not fuck buddies anymore, and i have a boyfriend, so just stay away, okay?”

there were multiple voices in his head screaming not to say what he wanted to say at that moment, screaming at him that he would regret it, but he didn’t listen. his eyes wide, a sneer on his face; he was determined to look more vindictive than you were right then. “oh wow, y/n, didn’t know you were such a slut like your mom, giving it to whoever has more moneybags,” he mocked, more than aware of the hurt in your eyes but his temper was bad, and he couldn’t stop himself. “you know what? maybe you deserve all this shit, then, since you’re the same.”

the slap you gave him that day was the second hardest you’d given him in your life, maybe because a part of you was too distraught hearing those words from him that you weren’t in your best condition. that, and maybe the rain. but you ran away crying, as much as you tried to hide it. but eita had been in this position before, had seen what you looked like while running in the rain with tears in your eyes though you tried to mask them as the rainwater. you never liked to cry in front of him, and you never did.

and then, he was the reason you cried. the one person who you thought would never do that.

that night, as you ran straight into your boyfriend’s arms, you thought maybe you deserved it for not being able to deal with other people’s feelings properly. it wasn’t eita’s fault for having emotions, and it most certainly wasn’t his fault that he didn’t want to tell you about it. but you could feel it.

you felt it in the way he tried to hold your hand while walking alone. you felt it in the way he tried to hug you to sleep after he fucked you senseless. you felt it in the way he wasn’t seeing anyone else anymore. it wasn’t that you didn’t care about him, but with everything that was going on, emotions aren’t such a simple thing that you could handle, after all. especially if you didn’t feel the same way.

it was supposed to be a pair of best friends, using each other, nothing more and nothing less and you couldn’t take the heat when you felt eita wanting more. maybe you should’ve done it differently. maybe. and it was funny that you could tell how he felt about you yet at the moment, you couldn’t tell if he meant what he said.

and maybe if you knew better, you would've asked. no, if you knew better, you would've talked to him about it.

but it was all too late.

PRESENT

“oi, snap out of it.”

eita’s normal snappy voice brings you back to where you are, in his balcony sitting and supposedly enjoying the view, because when you’re high up here it almost looks like you have no troubles in life—at least, not the ones you have.

“look, i’m not gonna ask you to ignore what i just said,” eita says, sighing before he looks you straight in the eyes, his green irises much warmer than they used to be. “but can i ask you a favour?”

it takes you a while to respond, only because you can’t tell what he wants from you. your mouth opens slowly and carefully, “what?”

eita scoffs, and this time it’s not in disgust and you can tell. you can tell his mannerisms a lot better now. maybe because you’re both adults, and more transparent. maybe because you both had already lost each other once and know what that felt like, and maybe you both don’t want it to happen ever again. you don’t really know about him, but to you, no one can replace him in your life. his presence is too significant for that.

“stop looking at me like i’m a lost puppy.” he’s scowling now, downturned lips softening just a little, into a pout.

you snort, containing your laughter. perhaps you’d been thinking a little too much about it that you’re starting to look at him with pity. “yeah, okay.”

“that isn’t the favour.”

“then what is?”

he carries a straight face as he talks to you now, his fingers coming up to flick you softly on the forehead. he’s always felt like family to you. sometimes you wish he was. and for his end, he looks at you, knowing that the emotions he has will forever go unreciprocated, and yet he can’t stop being dumb by trying anyway. he knows, already, just by looking at the difference in the way you treat sae, in the way you look at him. you’re so smitten, and if eita even stood a chance, you would’ve been together already. and sometimes he wonders if what he said that night was what pushed you over the edge, was what solidified him as nothing more than just a friend with a temper too harsh sometimes that you didn’t want to count on even if you had no one else.

there was a fault he could find in the way you pushed him away. but there’s more that he can find with himself for saying what he said to you. he still counts himself lucky you never held a grudge with him over that.

eita chuckles under his breath; he can’t believe he’s about to say something so corny but he doesn’t know how else to tell you. “i kinda don’t want our friendship to change,” he explains, and he has to look away because if you’re going to run away again, he doesn’t know how he’ll take it. you’re about the only person who knows every single side of him. sides he doesn’t normally show to people. “so… don’t fucking run away again, or treat me differently just ‘cause you know how i feel. that just makes me feel fucking pathetic.”

because he knows you only pushed him away since you couldn’t reciprocate. you weren’t a slut, and you surely didn’t deserve any of your unfortunate circumstances—nothing he said that night was true. you only had good intentions, and the words that came out his mouth were only bad.

even until now, he hadn’t apologised.

yet here you are. smiling in front of him, for him, because of him. despite everything shitty going on in your life, here he is, asking you for a favour. and you’re nodding your head, preserving the friendship that you needed to stay a friendship, just like you’ve always been.

“okay, i promise,” you say, a childish smirk on your face as you hold your pinky out, to which he obliges and hooks his own around.

“you’re so dumb, i wonder what he sees in you,” eita sighs as he yanks his pinky away.

you’re laughing, the earlier bad memory already whisked away by the sunlight hitting your face. “who?”

“sae.” you freeze on eita’s words, but eita does you a favour and pretends he doesn’t see, doesn’t tease you about it. he wants to know about all of this, even if it’s just from the jealous perspective of being the throwaway option. “he treats you like…”

“like what?” your voice quivers a little, because you’re nervous. you always are when it comes to itoshi sae, somehow. (you won’t admit that right in front of the man himself though, too embarrassing.)

“like he likes you.” eita has to swallow the lump in his throat. it sucks to be talking to you about this, to possibly be talking this guy up, but he knows you need a friend. and he knows you don’t open up easily, so he has to be your best option. eita looks at you out of the corner of his eye, wondering if you’d open up a little bit more.

there’s a faraway gaze in your eyes. “eita?”

“yeah?”

this time, that gaze focuses on him, a warm, sad smile on your face. looks like the pity hasn’t fully worn off, but he’ll excuse it this time.

“thanks,” you say, so softly.

looks like you aren’t really ready to talk about it yet. eita rolls his eyes jokingly; trying to be just a best friend seems pretty hard after all. “stop being a sappy piece of shit,” he groans, earning a giggle from you.

somehow it feels nice, being able to take away some of that pain, even if just for a small moment. though, maybe you’d have an easier time around sae, if you would just learn to open up.

“and hey, if you’re still too scared to tell him about any of it, you can still find me, ‘kay?” he tells you, and you nod appreciatively. you probably just see him as a big brother by now. “and if your mom’s still giving you trouble, come by anytime, i’ve been too busy nowadays to bring anyone home anyway.”

you gasp, acting shocked. “oh really? wow, a changed man.”

“mhm mhm, i just fuck ‘em in the club.”

your playful jab on his arm comes faster than it usually does.

you wonder if you can ever repay eita for everything he’s done for you—be your punching bag, letting you stay at his house rent-free sometimes, accidentally ruin his date night others. you think of how he feels about you and you think probably not. you probably can’t ever repay him for how much sanity he’s given you back when you were at your lowest. so maybe you’ll start by not running away this time.

but your mind drifts to his words. you’re going to have to tell sae some time, but you know how it turned out the last time you told someone with such a high status about it. you remember how shiro turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing, how his warm demeanour changed when it suited him, how he used everything to lord over you.

you wonder if sae will be the same. you don’t even know if these feelings are fleeting or not. are they even worth it?

is sae going to be worth a try? or is he just going to turn out just like shiro?

yeah, you’ll take your time telling him. you want to get to know him, so it’s hypocrisy from your end, but if he’s a good guy, he wouldn’t mind waiting—that’s what you tell yourself, because like hell do you want him to know about your family as you are now. pathetic, scrimping from paycheck to paycheck, desperately clawing your way up into a normal class. next to him, you’re too inadequate.

but then, why is your gut telling you otherwise?

sumi comes bounding in on monday morning, straight to your desk after her morning meeting with the boss. she looks exceptionally happy today, her eyes beaming bright and her smile nearly infectious.

“i swear to god, i think my hard work is paying off!” she exclaims excitedly, careful to keep her voice down even then. she bites on her lower lip, suppressing a grin when she passes you a proposal she’d done up.

on the first page, it’s titled as such: proposal, by suzuki sumi. when you flip to the second page, you’re overwhelmed by a huge close-up picture of one of the top players in soccer right now—isagi yoichi. she giggles when she sees your face contort in surprise, nodding in excitement.

“let’s just say, thanks to a friend of a friend, i managed to talk to isagi at the airport and he personally agreed to do an interview with us,” she proudly explains, answering your unspoken questions. she’s already happily chattering away about her plans for when his interview’s booked—which you learn is still a few weeks away, and may be delayed depending on whether his schedule has any last minute changes.

“that’s lucky,” you comment, passing her proposal back to her. there’s pages and pages of meticulously planned questions and interview segments, along with possible video footage they could do to add onto the company’s youtube account. sumi’s obviously enthusiastic about all of this, more than you’ve ever seen her since you first spoke to her.

it’s nice to see sumi finally happy for once, given how hard she’s been working at this company. she’s the first friendly face you saw when you first came here anyway, and had it not been for her, your work life probably wouldn’t feel as warm as you do now.

“i know, right?” she sighs, content, dreaming about how the interview would go already, about how happy the boss will be with her once their numbers skyrocket. after the lifeline you threw for them by somehow getting to know itoshi sae, it’s been hard for anyone else to keep up. she smirks at you, “remember what i said on your first day here?”

sumi had said a lot of things, actually. most of which were mostly gossip and not actual work, but you can guess what she’s hinting to. “yeah, that it pays to have connections, right?”

you remember those words, only because you’d unintentionally thought back to eita once she’d said them. your attention flits back to sumi, who looks wantonly relieved—she must’ve really been worried for herself then, considering how bad the job market is right now. she never told you, but you could sense she’d been worried about her performance, and whether or not she’d get enough bonus this year to have that dream wedding she’d always cooned over.

“mhm, and you have two indispensable ones yourself,” she points out, winking, taking a sip of her coffee. “otoya eita and itoshi sae, while i’ve just now gotten isagi yoichi.”

she spends the later part of the morning texting you about how she’ll need your help to pull it off, while you juggle work, sumi and apparently sae at the same time, because for some reason, he’s gotten real chatty over the weekend. not that it’s unwelcome—it’s a pleasant surprise.

right, because when you’re out with sae, who has a heck of a pr team—people who make sure to keep him in line, you’ll have to be careful. you can’t let just anyone see you out and about with him, not when he has a ton of crazed fans who would probably butcher you just for dating rumours. your mind drifts off, wondering how bianca deals with it. though, considering she comes from a long line of famous figures, you guess she’s used to it, having to grow up with all that attention around you.

you look at the clock—it’s around ten minutes till your work day ends. your heart speeds up at the notion of seeing him again, even if it’s only been two days since you’d seen him last. you wonder how you’re going to survive if he has to be away for months at a time for his games if you’re already yearning to see him this much now. shaking the feeling off, you straighten up, retreating to the bathroom to freshen up before you go.

at the same time, parked in the corner lot, sae stares at the caller ID on his phone as it vibrates, surprised. he picks it up, wondering why she’s calling when it’s probably late wherever she is.

“hey, it’s your favourite girl,” bianca’s voice squeals over the line. “guess what?”

“what is it?” sae is, for the most part, not too surprised. bianca has a habit of calling him a lot of the time. more and more frequently nowadays. he wonders why.

“i’m in japan right now,” she reveals, giggling, and sae finds a bad feeling dawning over him. “pick me up? i just got to the airport.”

“sorry, can’t pick you up tonight.”

“what? i thought you’re gonna be in japan for a while.” he can just hear the disappointment in her voice.

“yeah, but i’m busy now, so…” sae trails off, not knowing exactly if he should say anything about you.

“oh, with the guys? you could just skip out on—”

“nah, it’s with someone else,” he settles for, wondering what the sudden silence from the other end of the line means. he’s not sure he wants to find out right now, so he’ll have to talk to bianca some other time. “i gotta go—”

“are you going on a date?” bianca’s tone seems more inquisitive than he’d like, but her question has him thinking.

is this a date?

bianca stays silent as he ponders about it, waiting with bated breath because this is the first time in two years that sae had ever rejected her request, and judging by how he’s struggling, he’s undoubtedly meeting a girl. is it you? she curses under her breath as she pushes her hood over her head, determined not to let anyone see her sweat right now.

“yeah,” sae says, the decision coming to him as soon as he sees your familiar face approaching, that polite little smile on your face. “i’ll talk to you later.”

indignant, bianca exhales sharply, her temper taking over her as she huffs a “don’t bother” into the receiver before hanging up.

sae looks down at his phone, staring at her name on the call log. he makes a mental reminder to check in with her later, but for now, he shoves that thought aside—tonight, he’ll focus on you. just you.

and when you effortlessly command all his attention by slipping into the passenger seat all too naturally, he thinks that whatever ripple effect this may cause may be worth it. for him. and now, it’s his mission to make it worth it for you too.

“so,” you say, all sparkly-eyed as you look at him excitedly. “where are we going tonight?”

you thank god that you decided to dress up a little more today when you see that he’s taking you to another high-end place. this time, it’s on a rooftop of a five-star hotel, with views overlooking the tokyo skyline; a view you never thought you’d actually see in person.

it’s breezy enough up here that it’s not too stuffy, and there are step lights and string lights all around the venue but they’re dim enough as to not reveal sae’s face too much. (not that anyone hear even bothers to look at anyone else passing by, all too engrossed in their hushed conversations.) you notice he’s always handsome no matter what he wears—and today it’s a black button-down shirt with black pants, a casual dark jacket hanging over his shoulders. your eyes linger over the little bit of his chest that you can see; you can tell he’s muscular under there.

“distracted much?”

sae’s voice startles you, and you can see him smirking a little as if he knows what you’re thinking. your cheeks heat up a little, acting coy. he’s reaching a hand out, probably something you didn’t notice while you were deep in your thoughts, and you take it, letting him lead you slowly to your seats.

as you take a seat and the waiter hands you the menus, your eyes flick up, looking at the man across from you. he reads the menu silently, and you notice the sliver of black ink that extends across his palm. it takes all you can to suppress a grin.

“i can always give you another one anytime, you know?”

for some reason that you probably know, sae catches on to what you’re talking about pretty quickly, the dim lighting failing to conceal the way his ears turn red. “so you like giving me hearts?”

you don’t miss the slight teasing in his voice, having to conceal your own nervousness. “i think you’re the one who likes receiving them,” you quip, hiding your face behind the menu.

there’s a rustling noise, rousing your curiosity and making you put the menu down. sae doesn’t respond to your earlier comment but he does give you a tiny smile, putting a two-pack of macarons on your side of the table. he must’ve taken it out of his pocket while you weren’t looking.

“what’s this?”

“macarons,” he shrugs, though you’re not really asking that. he picks up on it. “i was in paris for some event over the weekend. thought you’d wanna try that.”

(sae looks at your reaction as you pick the small bag of mini macarons up, eyes staring at it in awe. he thinks maybe you recognise the name on the plastic—it’s the name of the most popular bakery in paris. it costs a lot more than he thinks macarons should, but when he sees the subtle smile on your face, it’s definitely worth the price tag.)

you’re not so big on surprises, especially when your mother loves giving you some on the daily, but this is the kind of surprise you like. the kind that makes that incessant vibrating in your purse worth it. the kind that trumps your want to be in control.

and even throughout dinner, sae keeps surprising you. maybe it’s just that you’ve never experienced much, or that you never expected much from him, but every little thing he does seems meaningful to you. the way he makes sure to ask if you don’t like to eat certain food before ordering, the way he drapes his jacket over you when the wind picks up, even the way he slowly leans across the table to clean the stray crumb off your face with his finger.

every gesture seems to tell you something—something that you don’t dare to think of because you’re scared that it’s not true, that you’re the only one starting to fall.

“you know, if you’re constantly like this around girls, no wonder there’s always dating rumours with you,” you huff, too afraid to ask him directly.

but sae always manages to decipher your intentions somehow. he tilts his head, earnesty dripping from his words, “whatever ‘this’ means, i’m only like that with you.”

it doesn’t do your heart any favours, making it pound a million miles an hour because whatever sae’s confessing to here wasn’t on your bingo card for the day.

“itoshi sae, you’re too much.”

“sae.”

“huh?” you look up at his face, only to see him averting his gaze as he turns to look at the skyline, the wind rippling through his soft pink locks.

“call me just by my name.”

you swallow the lump in your throat, gaze dropping to the table. it’s not like you purposely didn’t, but the fact that he’s asking you like this, like he’s being needy about it, heightens your emotions so much more.

his fingers find their way across the table again, this time to your chin, tipping it up, urging you to look at him. “say it.” it’s not commanding, or mean, or forceful, and his fingers are gentle, even his gaze and his intentions.

“sae.” his name rolls of your tongue slowly, and the way he smiles at you after that makes you feel inexplicable, knowing that you’re the reason he looks like that.

he doesn’t even say anything about it, just a smile in acknowledgement before he says he’ll go and pay the bill. you stare at his back as he goes, the contrast in your lives very apparent at every instance he takes you out—because it’s always fancy and expensive with him, a world you know nothing of, a world you once thought you’d never experience in this lifetime.

yet here you are, experiencing it thanks to him. you wonder if you’ll still get to once he knows about your family. he’s sort of a celebrity, right? there must be things he cares about that won’t line up well with your situation.

yeah, you don’t think you’ll ever get that out of your head. not until you ask him about it.

and you’re tempted to—especially with the vibration you’re constantly feeling tonight. taking the opportunity while sae’s away, you fish your phone out of your purse, picking the call up reluctantly, only because you’re mildly curious what else your dear mother could possibly want from you.

“you ungrateful little whore—”

“what do you want?”

yeah, you know you shouldn’t have picked it up. you really shouldn’t. and you don’t even know why you were even mildly worried that it might be your mother in danger and needing your help when she clearly wouldn’t do the same for you.

you hate yourself the most out of everyone. you knew clearly you shouldn’t have picked it up. and now your mother’s on the other line, cussing you out for ignoring her all night. then going on about some cruise she’s going on next week and how she found a secret stash of cash that you’re keeping in the kitchen cupboards, how you’re going to get it from her for hiding it and how kind it is of her to even warn you in the first place.

it’s fine.

you kept it there to distract her from your real money, safe in the bank. if she thinks she’s stealing all you have, it probably won’t cross her mind that you still have any. she doesn’t even know you’d worked multiple jobs back in university, only thought you were good for hooking up with men and purposefully disrespecting her.

a hand around your shoulder makes you jump back in shock, your eyes greeted with sae’s own.

“everything okay?”

“y-yeah, it was just a scam caller,” you lie, immediately hanging up and stuffing it back in your pocket.

as you clamour on about how both of you should really get going, sae catches the way your fingers tremble ever so slightly, how your lips threaten to downturn—are you about to cry?

but when you turn around and force a grin, joking about how you’re going to pull a dine and dash on him, he knows you won’t. whatever’s bothering you—you’re locking him out of it. he doesn’t like it, but can he even complain?

and when the both of you are back in the car, the night feels strangely short somehow, and sae reluctantly pulls out his gps. “what’s your postal code again? i’ll drive you back.”

there’s a short pause before you offer him the string of numbers, and sae’s brows furrow when he keys it in. “you’re heading to otoya’s?” he asks. he knows you two are close, and have been, but this sinking feeling in his heart is not something he’s familiar with.

you bite on your lower lip. you don’t want him to have any false assumptions, but you’re not exactly ready to tell him the truth either—that you’re just running from your problems, that eita’s house is the only other space you have.

“are you… still involved with him?” sae asks, voice soft, looking away like he did earlier.

it reminds you of that night you got drunk. you remember how you needed to know. so you figure maybe you owe him the same. “i’m not involved with anyone,” you tell him, smirking. but he looks at you like he’s waiting for more and you remember too, what you want to hide from him for now. “i just—i don’t have—”

“hey, you don’t have to say anything,” sae cuts in, the slight quiver in your voice enough indication that this isn’t something you’re prepared to say. he’s known that for a while now. “you just can’t go home, right?”

you’re more than a little grateful that he is the way he is, that he doesn’t force anything out of you like shiro used to. “yeah,” you admit, awkwardly looking away. “i usually just stay at eita’s until… i’m ready to go back.”

there’s an awkward silence that stretches on for a while before sae concedes to it. “you could stay at mine.”

did you hear that right?

you furrow your brows. “what?”

sae’s mouth hangs open for a while, like he’s trying to figure out what to say. “i could drive you to otoya’s if you prefer that. but… if you wanna stay at mine, that’s fine too. i have a couple extra rooms, you could just pick one.”

what you actually wanted to hear was why he’s willing to do that for you when he hasn’t even known you long, but you hold your tongue. there are doubts in your head—like privacy issues since he’s a celebrity, and rumours if you ever get caught entering or exiting his house, and what exactly does he see you as?

but there’s the selfishness part of you that wants to go for it. and you listen to her.

“then, can i stay over? just one night so i won’t intrude too much,” you assure him, being polite because you’re scared you’re overstepping your boundaries. or that he’ll think you’re a creep even though he’s the one that invited you.

sae can’t help but snicker, and you can’t help but stare as he rests his head against the steering wheel, staring at you. “are you interested in me, y/n?”

you pout, because he’s hit the nail on the head, the embarrassment flying to your head. “okay you know what? if you’re gonna joke about it just take me to eita’s—”

this time sae bursts out laughing, and you feel even more mesmerised; it’s unfair how easy it is for him to do that.

“okay okay, i won’t say that anymore,” he appeases you, hand coming up to ruffle your head. “and feel free to stay as long as you want.”

“i’m gonna steal your jacket, by the way, since you like to joke around so much,” you huff, though sae only chuckles at whatever you say now.

“sure, take whatever you want.”

“and you’re buying my necessities.”

“for when you’re at mine? sure.”

“sae, one day i’m gonna kill you.” because he’s still laughing, obviously getting a kick out of your earlier embarrassment.

“you can’t do that.”

“and why not?”

and sae’s face immediately leans forward, just inches away from you. he’s so close you can feel his hot breath against your cheeks and it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest.

“then i won’t be able to give you that kiss you asked for.”

your breath catches in your throat, sae coming closer ever so slightly, his gaze falling to your lips for a split second before he shatters your hopes by pulling away, setting the gps to the nearest convenience store. but he doesn’t drive off just yet.

not before he makes sure to look at you one last time, that dazed look on your face, his thumb and pointer finger coming up to pinch your cheek gently, leaving an imprint of himself in your heart.

“come on, we’re here.”

after a half hour of poking around the convenience store and getting whatever you need (you also had to stealthily creep some disposable underwear in your basket and make sure sae didn’t see them when paying), you arrive at sae’s apartment—nestled in one of tokyo’s most luxurious neighbourhoods. a far cry from your own.

he carries your bags for you, leading you to his unit, straight at the top, on the thirty-second floor. his is the corner unit, and he gestures for you to walk in front of him.

“1-0-0-9,” he tells you, both hands full.

“huh?”

“the combination, it’s 1—”

“no, i heard you,” you interject, a little exasperated. “but you shouldn’t just hand the passcode out to anyone.”

“i don’t,” he assures you, saying it matter-of-factly. “i trust you.”

you hurry to key in the code, so easily flustered by the way he seems so willing to tell you anything. “then don’t blame me if one day you come back home to find the place ransacked,” you jokingly warn him.

sae conveniently ignores that comment, placing your items in one of the spare rooms nearest to the living room. as you walk in, you marvel at how spacious and clean his apartment is. it’s all cold marble floors and high ceilings, and you can already tell it must be so nice in the day with all the natural lighting flooding in here. the wide windows must let all the sunlight in, must be much brighter during the day than yours is.

you follow him as he tells you where everything is; the spare room right next to the living room, the toilet across from it, the kitchen right next to the balcony exit, accessible from your own room. his apartment is so huge it makes you wonder if he ever feels lonely in it.

in the living room, you see multiple pictures in frames, most of which you assume are probably his family. you recognise rin, present in most of the pictures. they look happy, at least. there’s also one with eita and the others, and some others you don’t recognise. none of bianca or any other girls, you note.

“all good?” he asks once he’s done with the mini tour.

you nod apprehensively, still tense about the fact that you’re staying the night at his place. “yeah, i’m just gonna wash up first.” you don’t even let him say anything before you’re bounding off into the spare room he gave to you, trying to calm yourself down because it never hit you until now that you’re really here, in sae’s place, ready to make yourself at home when you’re not even anything to him. though, you really hope that there’s something.

“calm down, y/n, just gotta take a shower and you’re good as new,” you whisper to yourself, calming yourself and taking deep breaths.

outside, sae’s gaze lingers on the door to your room, your shadow visible from the bottom gap of the door as you move about. he can’t even come up with a good enough reason to tell himself why he bothered to let you stay here, except maybe that he selfishly didn’t want you to stay with otoya.

is that bad?

before he can ponder anymore about it, the door to your room opens and you sheepishly walk out, a grin on your face as you approach him. “so… i forgot something.”

and now you’re going to ask him for it.

“what is it?”

“i swear i didn’t forget on purpose, okay?” you’re pouting, and he finds it mildly adorable. “could i borrow some clothes?”

sae nearly bursts out laughing just from how nervous you seem. though, from how you’ve been every time you saw him, from his hat to his jacket and now you’re asking for his clothes, he can see why you’re a little nervous.

“do you always forget around otoya too?” he means that redundantly more than anything, just a passing comment, but you answer anyway.

“well, i always just wear his jerseys.”

you really were just answering honestly, but the way sae grips your wrist and guides you to his closet is almost comical. you allow yourself to think that he’s doing this out of jealousy, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering as you follow him.

“you have a walk-in closet?” you gape, looking at the sheer size of it. it’s nearly as big as your entire room.

“take whatever you want, my jerseys are in there,” sae says, pointing you to the sliding door closest to you.

that’s how you end up coming out of the showers a half hour later, dressed in his national jersey, his name in block letters at the back. you’d take a picture just to savour it, but you’d like to think that hopefully this isn’t the last time you’ll get to wear it.

when you come out, sae’s already washed up, probably has his own bathroom in that big bedroom of his. his hair’s wet, dripping onto his thin white t-shirt, eyes finding your gaze as you walk towards him and bow deeply. you’re a comfortable distance away from your mother, phone switched off and discarded into one of the drawers in the guest room, only because sae was kind enough to let you stay. for multiple nights even, if you want to.

“thank you,” you tell him, and it’s for more than just tonight, more than just dinner and a shirt and a bed to sleep in. somehow, ever since you’d met him, he’s been there for you constantly, even if he doesn’t mean to be. it still counts for something, you think, because you can’t even remember the last time you felt like a giggly high school girl having a normal crush even if it’s on a not-so-normal person.

“not gonna ink it on my skin now?” sae teases when you straighten back up, and you roll your eyes.

“don’t blame me if you wake up with a dick drawn on your face.”

“is that what you want?” sae asks you, and you get the feeling he’s not even invested in your quip, his mind elsewhere.

sae’s face is right in front of yours, like so many times before now, it feels like. it makes you think you’re not that delusional, that he could feel just the same as you do—excited, tired, confused.

“i already told you what i want,” you whisper, and you would probably kill yourself if you were thinking clearly for being so open and vulnerable in front of him right now, but then it doesn’t matter.

none of it matters when his lips are on your lips and you can taste the mint lingering on his tongue, when you can feel the way his hands find purchase on your hips, pulling you closer, but gently, like he’s trying not to seem too eager but so close to failing. his hair tickles your face, the way he keeps coming back for more leaves you breathless.

your arm comes up behind his neck, keeping him close. his kiss makes your mind hazier than any alcohol can, his grip falling to the back of your thighs, your lips still connected as he lifts you up onto the counter of the kitchen, his body nestled comfortably between your thighs as he knocks the air out of your lungs.

it’s as if he’s telling you you’re not crazy, that you’re not imagining anything, because he’s here with you right now, out of anyone’s watchful eyes and he’s kissing the fuck out of you simply because he wants to. no dares, no alcohol—just itoshi sae and his crumbling resolve to hide his yearning.

by the time he pulls back, both of you are trying to catch your breaths, foreheads leaning against one another and it leaves you wondering whether it’s as you think or if he’s just entertaining your wishes.

“you know something?” he speaks, voice hoarse as his teal eyes look at you from behind those beautiful lashes of his. you swallow the lump in your throat, forcing a what? out even if it’s barely audible at best. “i’ve been wanting to do that too.”

you must’ve been wrong. you’re not the one that’s a lot to handle. he is.

“why is it that you always somehow know what i’m thinking?” you wonder out loud, an arm around his shoulder for support. you’re both still as close, still as mesmerised by the other.

sae doesn’t really know what you mean by that, so he shrugs. “maybe i’m just made for you,” he comments offhandedly, and you find it hard not to shrink from the nervousness. by now, he should already be able to tell you have a crush on him. your only saving grace is that he probably feels the same. otherwise, you have no doubt he’d probably go out of his way to avoid you.

“you have quite the tongue on you, you know that?”

sae chuckles softly, a smirk lining his lips as he continues staring at you, admiring every single inch of your face. “you would know.”

completely flustered, you gently push him away, hopping off the counter and skipping towards the guest room, offering sae one last thing to think about before you shut the door on him—“maybe next time you’ll know about me too.”

and once your door is shut, sae exhales shakily, the thought of your words and their insinuation consuming him for the entire night.

you really are a lot to handle.

extras !

that heart reaction from sae was absolutely an accident. he meant to go for the thumbs up.

after that kiss, sae had to help himself. he wasn't planning on going any further, but you turned him on a lot more than he thought was possible.

despite his feelings, eita still thinks he isn't ready to commit to just one person.

your feelings towards your mother are complicated—you know she isn't loving at all now, and yet you still hope for that small chance that she might revert back to the mother who once promised to love you more than anything else. it's something that eita was always against because he knew how much it hurt you. it's part of why you don't like to speak to eita about it and hear all of those things.

bianca got drunk to forget after sae rejected her request; when she drunk dialled him, he was too busy giving you a tour of his house.

sae has never invited bianca over to his house even once. he also has never lent her any of his jerseys (as she mentioned in the start of the chapter).

taglist! @yuzurins @saeskiss @raphsimp @lust4rin @mxplesyrvp @chieeeeeee @yumekolovesyukimiya @kunirayuna39 @auranny @sereniteav @gskill @saesgrl @riseena @rikijbol @sagejin @shironagi @veecynii

#itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x you #sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #sae x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

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arminsumi · 8 months

Text

SUGURU LEARNING THE PIANO FOR YOU.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 — 夏油傑

NOTE: pls ignore errors this is just a silly little fluff idea that popped into my head and i wrote it in one swing without planning so yes anyways REQUESTS ARE OPEN gimme all ur suguru/satoru/satosugu thoughts pls i accept fluff n smut n angst 🫡 or if u just wanna chat i promise i don't bite hehe

WARNINGS — lowercase used, fem reader, suguru calls you 'princess' once, a small bit of angst and self-deprecation (Suguru), kinda implied that satosugu both crush on you in college, gojo teasing you two bc he's an annoying little shit and i love him for that

JJK works

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

you met him when he was in his final year of high school, in the music room during after a practice lesson with his uptight teacher.

geto suguru was a little bit of a showoff, especially when he saw your face walk into the room. some friends and others hung around him — you know, he's just that kinda person that people want to hang around and be close to and talk to even if they have nothing of interest to say.

he was thumbing at a bass, eyeing you out without making it obvious. each time you tried to speak, someone interrupted like a twittering bird, and it annoyed him like nothing else.

so the next time you two met delighted him — because you were left alone. at first he pretended not to notice you coming in, but he had sharp ears and definitely heard the soft thumping of your footsteps. he had his eyes fixed on his guitar, twisting and turning the pegs at the head, testing until it was tuned to perfection. and then played something smooth and sultry, a melody that wove through the seats and other standing instruments right over to you.

"hey suguru."

"oh hey, didn't notice you there." he lied, voice as smooth and deep as the notes he had just played.

"mind if i listen?" you asked, taking a seat close to him — but not close enough for him. he wanted you closer. oh well, he decided that he'd use his talented fingers to allure you into closer proximity.

"of course." he smiled and continued playing nonchalantly.

that nonchalance is what caught so many high school girl's hearts. he never stopped being popular with the ladies even in college.

and come college, he picked up another instrument to learn; the piano. difficult. challenging. annoying. despite the benefit of his long fingers and naturally graceful movements, it just didn't come as naturally to him as stringed instruments.

but he knew you liked the piano, or so he thought, because he heard you compliment it once when satoru played piano in front of you.

so he asked his best friend, "can you teach me to play this song? it's y/n's favorite." naively thinking that it would be simple. a week is all it took for him to start letting out exasperated sighs over the keyboard.

"suguru, don't be so harsh on yourself." satoru said after hearing a self-deprecating speech from him, "piano is hard. you need a lot of patience, especially if it doesn't come naturally."

"i'm clumsy." suguru sighed, eyes saddening at the sight of his fingers resting over the black and white keys. "i don't think y/n will care to hear her favorite song being played so poorly. she'll force a compliment out of kindness. she's sweet like that."

"it's been a week." satoru shook his head, bumping legs with suguru as he changed his sitting position on the piano seat. "no one in the world is gonna be even averagely good at the piano in a week - that's impossible unless you're — "

" — a real prodigy. like someone i know." suguru smiled, teasing his best friend out of nowhere. "ah, satoru, what i'd give to have a crumb of your talent right now."

he earned a sympathetic arm around his shoulders.

"must suck to be talentless." satoru joked, "kidding. keep practicing, i wanna see those hands moving when i come back. want anything from the store?"

"diet coke." suguru said, "and something spicy? thanks."

when the white-haired boy lankily strode out of the music theater, the atmosphere became somberly quiet. it was a big theater, much bigger than the cramped music room back in high school.

just when suguru had began lamely practicing again, you walked in. he was so caught up in self-deprecating thoughts, so distracted by his own inner criticism, that he didn't notice.

"hey suguru." you greeted, giving him the fright of his life — he visibly jumped, causing a jarring sound to whine from the piano.

"hey? hey! what — hey." he freaked out for a second, then composed himself, "good to see you again, where you been?"

"i'm sorry — prof's been on my ass about missing assignments. and sorry for never replying to messages," you chuckled nervously, coming to an idle stand next to the piano as he watched you. "i'm so shit at texting."

"that you are..." he laughed with you, "but i'm not much better. i prefer talking face-to-face." and he thought to himself; especially if it's your face.

you smiled at him. a small silence passed, then you nodded at the piano and inquired about it. "practicing?"

"yeah... kind of."

"can i listen?"

he began to blush. you'd never seen him blush before that. it was so subtle that you were almost unsure if it really was blush — or just a trick of the noon light streaming in through the tiny square windows.

"i'm really bad." suguru responded self-consciously, nervously wiping his palms on his dress pants.

"don't care, i wanna listen." you pushed, catching hint of his self-consciousness and deciding to attempt to break through it.

"ah, 'nything for my princess, i guess." he chuckled softly under his breath. he'd started using that nickname with you only recently, 'cause he'd been falling more and more in love than in high school.

so he sat and played the piano for you.

awkward notes, some smooth and purposeful — others a noticeable mistake. he grimaced at those mistakes, you had to laugh.

"hey..." you hummed in realization as he played. his eyes flicked up at you from the piano. "that sounds familiar." you said, "learning chopin so early? isn't that a bit advanced?"

"it is, yeah... but i wanted to learn it for y- because i like him. he's great right?"

"mhm..." you smiled at suguru. "i wouldn't have expected you to like him. actually, it's really surprising you're learning piano at all — why did you decide to?"

suguru froze up for a moment.

"i don't know. i just wanted to." he shrugged, lying very smoothly with that voice of flowing rivers.

"it's just that... you've always talked about how bass and guitar are your beloveds, and you'd never touch anything else. so that's why i'm curious."

he froze up again. you were catching onto him, so he just admitted it as nonchalantly as possible.

"i wanted to learn it because you like it."

that made your heart thump a bit more wildly than it already was from being in his presence. something about suguru is that he's capable of making hearts race just with his voice alone.

"really?" you felt the crown of your cheeks warm up, a heat spreading down to your jawline. his face was going completely red.

"yeah?" he swallowed, almost choking, looking away. his pretty hands lightly rested on the keys. you wondered for a second about how it would feel to have them cupping your cheeks.

"that's really sweet of you... thank you." you said sincerely.

maybe it was the effect of your gaze, or your sincerity, or both, but he felt like it was hard to breathe.

"damn, the tension!" satoru's voice boomed, abruptly breaking the quiet between you and suguru. "i could cut it with a knife. you two should just kiss already — i bought popcorn, let me watch." he lifted a convenience store bag.

"satoru, how long have you been standing there!" you laughed nervously.

"a while. you guys would definitely be the first to die in a horror movie." he said, the liveliness of his voice such a jarring contrast for your ears.

suguru's face was still red. your fists were curled up and laid on the edge of the piano.

"okay, just blurt it out already you two! so frustrating! this isn't a damn slow burn romance novel, just get together already."

"shut up," you laughed embarrassedly, "damn third wheel."

"i am not the third wheel — y/n, if you date suguru you're also dating me i hope y'know that. that's just how it works."

suguru let out an incredulous laugh. "oh my god, please, satoru."

"what? just being honest — don't look at me like that y/n i didn't mean i like you!" now satoru started blushing, "i'm just saying!" and then proceeded to over-explain himself while you and suguru dissolved into laughter.

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writemekpop · 8 months

Text

Fast Love | Lee Donghyuck (Haechan)

Summary: Car sex with your busy boyfriend Haechan is surprisingly difficult... but still hot

Genre: Secret relationship AU

Word Count: <1k

You and Haechan were squeezed together in the backseat of your tiny Fiat 500.

You were sitting in his lap, hands curled into his soft brown hair. Your panties lay discarded on the floor beside you.

Haechan lifted your skirt, put his hands on your hips and pulled you onto him. You both groaned at the feeling.

“This… is… so… hot,” Haechan said, between gasps.

With your packed schedules – he was a Kpop idol, you were a reporter - meeting for a quickie in the car park was the only date you could manage this month. Your friends had begun to joke that your boyfriend Haechan was ‘imaginary’. Some nights, as you hugged your pillow, it almost felt true.

You threw your head back and let yourself get lost in the feeling.

Just then, Haechan let out a strangled groan.

You opened your eyes and gasped when you saw his pained expression.

“Haechan, are you okay?”

Haechan scrunched up his face and shook his head.

“Shit! My leg! I’m getting a cramp!” he groaned.

You gasped. “Do you need me to get off?”

Haechan nodded urgently.

You scrambled off Haechan's lap and fell onto the seat beside him. You watched as he gripped his left calf, wincing.

“Let me,” you coaxed. You gently kneaded Haechan's leg until he sighed in relief, his head falling back onto the seat.

Afterwards, you both stared at each other, not sure how to fill the silence.

You tried your best not to smile, but you couldn’t stop the corner of your lips from turning up into a smile. You let out a giggle.

“Don’t laugh!” Haechan said gruffly, crossing his arms over his muscled chest.

But he, too, couldn’t control himself. Soon, you were both in fits of laughter.

You were gripping your side, laughing so much that tears ran down your cheeks.

“I can’t believe that happened!” Haechan said, shaking his head and smiling. “I thought I was more athletic.”

You stroked his cheek gently. “I thought it was cute.”

Haechan leant into your touch, letting his eyes fall shut. “We’ve gotta stop doing this in your car…”

You sighed. “We’ve been through this, baby. We’re too busy.”

Haechan smiled. “Imagine if we were normal people. I’d take you out to that beautiful little Italian place near your house… I’d give you my jacket on the walk home if you were cold… then we’d have mind-blowing sex in any place in the house we wanted.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hmm… I like the idea of the sex thing.”

“Gimme five minutes, baby, then we can go again.”

You ruffled his fringe. “That’s my man.”

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

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lumibuns-blog · 8 months

Text

"F--k it"

Jotaro x reader

After finally arriving in Egypt and gaining Iggy as an "ally" you were forced to fight against Geb and his stand N'doul.

When Abdul had been hurt and your enemy was going in for the kill, you immediately ran, putting yourself at risk to try and save your friend, whom you had just gotten back.

Your friend Jotaro had ran after you, probably just to do damage control, but he was also worried for you. He had helped you defeat the enemy stand user (using Iggy), and now you were walking back to the rest of your friends.

You admired Jotaro in a new light, after he had lost his hat in the fight. He looked so handsome, he always had but now with strands of his hair hanging in front of his face. Of course you had always admired him not only for his looks but his personality as well, he was stoic, calm under pressure, cool, and he always listened to you no matter what, and he was never rude to you always being somewhat gentle.

You felt all of this yet you still knew that it was sort of hopeless, you were friends and Jotaro had showed no interest in you, at least in that way.

So you walked beside him, happy that you could at least know him even under these circumstances, I mean he really was-

"What are you looking at" he suddenly asked, an eyebrow raised

"Oh um sorry" you stammered waving your hands to try and signify it was nothing

"Hm ok..." he looked away

As he looked away his hair moved and the sun shone on his skin.

It was your turn to suddenly speak "You just look really nice without you hat on" you froze, not meaning to think out loud

"Huh?" He trends back towards you and strange look on his face

"Oh I'm sorry- I just, well I haven't seen you without your hat is all..."

He quickly looked away, you panicked, thinking you had said something you shouldn't have

"I just meant-"

"You...look...nice in...the sun...set" he mumbled, barley audible

You could see, even though he was turned away from you that he was covering his face with his hand.

You stood there stunned "what...do you mean?"

"You're such an idiot" he grumbled

He was being so vague you had no idea what he meant

"It's just- fuck it" he suddenly turned back to you and grabbed the back of your head, pulling you in close and he bent down so you lips meant for just a moment, he was so gentle and he held you close, as though he thought you would break. He slowly separated himself from you lips and stood up.

"I hope that's obvious enough for you" he scoffed

You stood there, blushing like crazy, unable to speak.

After a moment Iggy came running back, with Jotaro's hat in his mouth

"Well, what do you know. You picked up my hat for me?" He said, surprised "maybe he isn't so bad after all" he looked over his shoulder at you, a small smile on his face

"Thanks-"

He stopped, realizing Iggy had slobbered all over it after he had returned it to his head

"Gimme a break" he sighed

You chuckled "hey Jojo"

"Hm yeah?"

You jumped up to reach his face and planted a kiss on his cheek

"I didn't know you felt the same way" you grinned

"You're pretty dense"

"Says you"

He chuckled

"Well um since we both-"

"HEY JOTARO, Y/N" you could hear Polnareff yell from the dune buggy "COME OVER HERE"

"We'll continue this later I guess" Jotaro sighed

You laughed and ran to catch up with him and the rest of your crew

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roturo · 9 months

Note

Thoughts on a freaky gojo with a shy reader who's willing to try out all of his interests?

this was an excuse to use my favorite kinks tbh.

warnings: overstimulation, breeding kink, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, consensual recording, marking, possessive behavior, jealousy, him being horny all the time, teasing, bondage, mating press, degradation kink, praise kink, whimpering, pussy slapping, ass smacking.

at first, when he discovered he liked you, he would get shy and mostly deny he had a crush.

but once he discovers YOU are the one who gets shy the most, oh boy, he won’t stop teasing you

he loved how flustered you get with just a touch.

how your breathing gets heavier any time he gets closer to you.

he loved the innocence look you gave him every time

and that’s why he wanted to corrupt you.

make you cry.

“Aw, c’mon baby, you can do it a few times more? mhm?” the thrusts every time became harder, faster. even though he just came no more than 2 minutes ago, he’s still rock hard. the sound of skin slapping and broken moans where all you could hear in the room, his balls slapping on your ass, and you’re sure there’s going to be a mark at the end of this.

that another thing he loves; marking you.

he hates when you use makeup to hide them when you’re in public. but that’s why he takes you to the closest restroom and makes sure to mark you as his again, but this time with no makeup to cover up.

A whimper coming out of Gojo makes you moan while he thrusts into you. “Shhh baby, we have to keep shut that pretty mouth of yours, you don’t want other people hearing you hm? or are you also into that?

you get scared as fuck when he turns you on in public. the touches aren’t discreet, and he makes sure to make everybody else know that.

it makes you embarrassed to think other ppl know when gojo gets horny.

but how could you blame him?

when you look so hot in that tiny dress he bought for you. when you look so small in his clothes…

“A-Ah~! Don’t stop ‘toru, please…” He chuckled after he took some time to breathe after eating you out. “Please what baby? Words. Gimme words.”

when he fucks you on his office he’ll make sure you’re full of his cum. so once the both of you finish he’ll try to keep the most possible inside of you and make you put your panties on again, so you’re always full of him.

he loves mating press. loves the idea of breeding you, making you his.

he hates when other men look at you even for one second. he’ll fuck you right in front of them if they keep staring at you like that.

“You liked that huh? You like the attention those men give you? Slut.”

and maybe, he’ll make sure of doing that. taking a video of you sucking him off and showing it to their face. he wouldn’t send it, oh no, he’ll get even crazier if other people have a video like this of you that isn’t him.

has a private album just for videos and photos he took of you while doing it.

your hole dripping his cum? he has a photo of it.

you crying from how hard he’s fucking you? he has a video of it.

your small heavy breathes anticipating his next move when his blindfold is covering your eyes? oh man, he loves doing that.

Using his blindfold to wrap your hands, legs, to even shut you up when you’re too loud. he loves it.

“Um…” You stayed quiet for a moment. “A-are you sure… I mean- ‘Toru, don’t you think it’s a little bit too much?…”

it indeed was too much to handle. not in a bad way. every time he slapped your ass with his belt made you moan.

oh how much he loves the marks it leaves.

this was his favorite punishment.

“You don’t have enough with my cock huh?” Slap. “Why don’t you go ask your little friend there-“ Another slap “to fucking fuck you?” Slap. “You whore. You’re just a cockslave.”

every slap he gave to your poor and overstimulated pussy made him harder.

he knows he’s being dramatic over this, but maybe this is just an excuse to fuck you.

don’t get him wrong. even after all that degradation, and hard sex, he still has a part of him that loves you with all his heart.

sloppy kisses.

you every chance he has.

always taking care of you after sex, preparing a warm shower and your favorite snacks to help you relax, telling you how perfect you are for him.

“You don’t know how much I love you pup. You’re the sweetest thing ever, so perfect… so perfect for me. Your body is perfect, your laugh is perfect, shit. Your hair is even perfect on its bad days. I can write a book full of things I love about you, and that still wouldn’t be enough for me to express how much you mean to me. I love you.”

#gojou satoru x reader #Gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru jjk #satoru gojo #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk gojo #jjk x you #gojo satoru #requests open!!

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6ix9inewiturmom · 23 days

Text

Crying on your birthday

Summary: You’ve been best friends with the triplets since you were born and your boyfriend of 2 years broke up with you on your birthday and chris confesses his love to you in an interesting way;)

Warnings: Smut!! P in V, Dom!Chris, Sub!reader, choking, hair pulling, use of Y/N, unprotected sex (wrap ur snickers), Oral (fem reviving), fingering, cursing, alcohol consumption, cream pie, cursing, lowkey possessive chris?, (lemme know if i forget anything)

A/N: not requested but i had this idea cookin in my head for a WHILE!! this is a long one so be prepared!!

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i’ve known the triplets since i was born. our moms were best friends since they were 9, Marylou and My mom went to college together and even had me at the same time Marylou was pregnant with the boys. i’ve thought nothing more then the triplets as my brothers, but chris… Christopher owen.. that boy has his ways with me about ever since we hit puberty together and learned we didn’t have the same body parts, now we never showed each other we liked each other so i never knew he liked me back. marylou always told me she’d seen me with either matt or chris. once matt started dating i KNEW i was never his type.. not in the slightest. nick and i were always just besties, once he came out it made more sense why he never attempted to “flirt” with me, so we were strictly just best friends or siblings. but chris? oh no he was a huge player, he treated me like a sibling but there was something about the way he “joked” with me i knew it was something more, but none of us ever talked about it so i ignored it, and just assumed that’s his way of joking. i’ve been dating my boyfriend, Cooper, for 2 years now, things were amazing, the triplets and their parents, were super supportive of me and him considering how we were raised as siblings. my mom liked him but i knew she never loved him.

today was my 21st birthday, i was actually about to have my ‘first drink’. at least to my parents knowledge. the boys and i would always sneak alcohol behind mine and their parents back all the time from the ages of 15-19, that was till they got themselves a house in boston, and i got an apartment close by in boston as well.

i spent about an hour and a half getting ready. i wore a black tight dress with little pink bows connecting to my middle breast, pushing my breast up and against each other making them look nice. with the dress i put on some thigh high leather boots with a slight heel on them.

cooper had finally texted me saying he was at my apartment to drive us to my venue i had booked for about 300 people. i knew my 21st had to be huge. i walk

down my stairs of the building leading to coopers car, but as i’m walking to him i’m expecting his usual flirty compliments such as, ‘hey sexy u come here often’, ‘can’t wait to rip that off you tonight’, ‘gimme a twirl lemme see that ass’, but strangely, it’s like i was a ghost to him, i ignore it thinking he just had a bad day at work or something.

“Hey coop! you ready” i say getting in the car closing the door smiling.

“hm? oh yeah i’m ready” he shoots me a fake smile before flipping his phone over face down and under his thigh slowly backing out to drive to the venue.

he’s never done that before? why did he hide his phone like that? why under his leg? i wonder so many things in my head but im not gonna let it get in the way of my birthday.. not happening, been waiting on this day for YEARS, today was about me!

the drive was silent and lifeless, never in the 2 years we’ve been together had our drives ever been less then filled with laughter and jokes, or blasting music and singing along to our shared playlist together. i plug my phone up to the aux cord and start playing our shared playlist thinking maybe i could lighten the mood but that doesn’t work. hes distant and it’s irking me, but again i brush it off cause its my birthday of all days.

i text chris a simple text telling him i was close to the venue hoping he’d be there and not take his princess ass his sweet time. as we pulled up to the venue i’m all smiles and giggles and as im walking towards cooper to hold his hand as im walking into the place he drops my hand, ive officially had enough of this i stop in my tracks.

“nu uh what the fuck is ur issue, first u hide ur phone, next ur completely silent, and now u drop my hand?” i slightly yell trying not to cause a ruckus infront of the venue

“just not feeling the party mood Y/N” he says almost uninterested in my feelings

“cooper marshall?? not in a party mood?? i don’t believe it.. not for a second, u literally have ‘party monster’ tatted on your thigh.. you NEVER turn down a pary, specially for your GIRLFRIEND of 2 YEARS, might i mention” i yell pretty sternly at this point not caring who hears

“yeah Y/N i’m not in a party mood, it’s not that hard to believe.. plus ur too clingy sometimes expecally when you can’t take a hint when someone’s upset you’re still fucking attached to me at the hip, i’m not always feeling you” again uninterested in how i feel

“Cooper what the fuck? i’m too ‘clingy’ where is this coming from?” using air quotes to emphasize my words.

cooper rolls his eyes “Y/N you’re causing a scene at your party you so desperately wanted to have, let’s just go” he attempts to grab my hand to drag me inside.

i drop his hand “no, your not just gonna ignore whatever issue you have with me, ESPECIALLY on my fucking birthday cooper”

again he rolls his eyes “i’m not doing this Y/N”

my eyes widen “doing what exactly? the party? me? what?”

he sighs before running his fingers through his hair “everything Y/N.. just leave me alone, don’t text me, don’t call me, just don’t worry about me and have fun at your pitty party”

my jaw dropped, if my jaw could break, my jaw would be in hell for how low my jaw hung. “your seriously breaking up with me?”

he presses his lips together and nods “yeah i guess i am i would say im sorry but im not.. bye sav-“ he stops abruptly before trying to fix his mistake of calling me the wrong name “bye Y/N”

tears start forming in my eyes “you were cheating on me? now ur breaking up with me on my fucking birthday? i truly thought better of you..”

he turns around “it’s not like you probably aren’t fucking chris behind my back anyway, it’s only fair” he shrugs

tears streaming down my face trying to comprehend what he just said.

“fuck off cooper” i storm inside the venue and as i walk in im greeted by the three same face people i grew up with.

“i uh- we uh-“ matt starts

“yeah we- you see” chris try’s to save matt

“oh my god you guys are fucking idiots.. Y/N we saw the whole thing.. what they’re trying to say is we’re sorry” nick finishes his brothers sentences and brings me into a tight bear hug.

i sniffle into nick as matt and chris both hug me, i pull away softly.

“i-it’s okay.. let’s just party, there’s 300 people here for me, i’m 21, finally we’re all 21 together, let’s just party and get drunk” i say promoting a half assed smile

“love ur attitude Y/N but let’s actually have a good time! also you look wayy too hot to be crying on your fucking birthday” nick says with his positive energy he always promotes

“you do look good sassy” chris says with his infamous smirk.

‘Sassy’ a nickname chris gave me when we were 8 and i was starting to get into my personality being sassy and not taking bull shit from anyone.

“thank you bubbles” i say with a smile. bubbles was a nickname i gave to him when we were 5 cause he was the bubbliest boy of the three.

about an hour went by, i lost count of how many drinks i consumed that night, on average id say about 8-10, i was the drunkest here, my words were slurring, i was full on shakin ass on the air, and my vision was blurred.

“oh chrisssy pooh” i slurred as chris came up behind me helping me walk around.

he chuckles “hey sassy, you’re a little

too drunk”

“whattt” i act shocked in my drunken state “nu uh, am not”

maybe these were my drunken thoughts but his smile could lighten up hell, the way his cheeks puffed up as he smiled, the way his blue eyes sparkle.

“mhm sure, why don’t we get you in the van and take you home and call it quits hm?” nick follows chris and holds my arms up to try and attempt to hold me i lean towards chris almost falling down as he caught me like one of those corny romantic movies.

i glaze into his eyes “you’re so pretty Christopher”

he laughs and picks me up and carrys me bridal style “oh yeah you’re done for love”

i nuzzle into his neck as nick, matt, chris and i walk to the van smiling like a kid in the candy store.

i randomly start busting out into drunken laughter as chris attempts to buckle me in “you wanna know something funny? cooper told me that i was fucking chris behind his back? pft he’s like my brother”

chris laughs and closes the door on the passenger back seat as nick takes the front passenger side and runs to the driver back seat to sit next to me.

“CHRISSY” i say a little louder

“i’m here sassy” he places my head on his lap and starts playing with my hair like he used to when we were kids.

i look up at him as his blue eyes glisten against the moonlight shining into the car window as matt drives to the triplets house “your so sweet to me.. can you braid my hair”

he looks down at me and smiles “yes i can” he takes my head and turns it to the side and starts french braiding my hair like i taught him years ago.

i softly hum before drifting off to sleep until i was woken up to chris carrying me to his bedroom and i groan as he sits me down on his bed “mm chris-“ before i could even warn him im running to the bathroom and puking up every ounce of alcohol in me.

“Y/N??” he says barging in the bathroom immediately holding my hair back to help me and rubbing my back softly saying ‘it’s okay sassy’ ‘i’m here’

i finally stop puking and am just leaning my back onto chris’ chest as he runs his fingers in my hair “you feelin any better”

i softly smile “i’m pretty much sobered up now”

“you ready to get into bed? you can wear some of my clothes and stuff since you weren’t prepared for anything tonight given the circumstances of your recent breakup- oh my god im sorry i shouldn’t have mentioned that im so-“

i cut him off “chris it’s fine, i promise, if anything im already over it… i know i shouldn’t be but i pretty much am” i smile turning my body to face him now

he returns the smile at me “good, let’s get you up and changed” he helps me up off the cold bathroom tiled floor as he guides me to his bedroom and lays out a pair of ‘Fresh Love’ sweatpants and one of his ‘Lyrical Lemonade’ T-shirts for me.

“here you go sass, i’ll be outside the door just let me in when your changed, you can throw your clothes in that hamper over there and i’ll wash em in the morning” he states before attempting to walk out of the door

“Wait chris” i stop “please don’t leave, it ain’t like we used to bathe together” i continue adding a small smile to my face

“okay.. but i’m turning around” he chuckled using his pointed finger to point at me

i smile at him “okay okay..” he turns around and i take my shoes off putting them to the side carefully and taking my dress off leaving me in my bra and underwear which was a matching orange set with little to no coverage on either my breast or ass, i was gonna suprise cooper with tonight but since coopers no longer in the picture it’s just another set in my collection. i throw on chris’ clothes which were a little too big on me but alas they were comfy.

“okay goober you can turn around now” i laugh and he slowly turns around and walks his way to me grabbing my hand and spinning me around like some disney moving looking at me up and down.

“my my my, i thought you looked beautiful in that dress but my clothes looks 10x better on you” he chuckles

i’m a giggling mess “oh stop it chris, you’re just fuckin with me”

he shoots me a smirk “eh maybe i am, maybe im not..” his voice trails off almost nervously

chris? nervous? never, i’ve warned his clothes thousands of times and never once has he showered me with affection the most id normally get is ‘i better see that hoodie back in my closet’ jokingly of course.

but alas a blush creeps on my cheeks giving away i liked his compliment, i can’t deny ive always had a thing for chris, i USED to only look at him as my ‘brother who’s not actually my brother but is my brother’ but that was before i knew what boys actually were. chris and i had/have never hooked up before, granted we were each others first kiss because we entered middle school together and Marylou gave them a talk about girls that somehow interested chris and he wanted to ‘get some practice’ as he says. but we were 11, we never kissed again cause we thought it was awkward, that was until i had my first date and didn’t know how to make out, chris, the player of course, was the one i ran to to teach me. cooper knew how close we all were, i told him i’ve only ever kissed chris twice but it meant nothing, it’s not like we hooked up before.

“ma?” chris attempted to get my attention but i was LOST in my thoughts about wanting to kiss chris’ soft lips again… was it wrong to want that?

“hm? oh yeah sorry i was uh just thinking” i laughed my nervousness away

“about what?” he said walking over to his bed, i followed sitting next to him

“nosey.. but mostly just us as kids.. i still think it’s funny cooper thought we hooked up, but it brought me to the memories when we were 11 and had our first kiss” i giggled softly

“OH I REMEMBER THAT ONE” he exclaimed “we were in my bedroom at the old house and” before his attempt at telling the rest of the story i joined in

“we didn’t talk for 3 days because we thought it was weird” we said in unison

we both laugh but slowly we just start looking at each other in a not so friendly way.. more of a romantic way, now i know i just broke up with my boyfriend of 2 years and the last thing i should be doing is looking at chris wanting his nice plump limps on mine.

before i knew it chris’ lips were attached to mine but i didn’t hesitate once, i immediately kissed him back but what was weird is that he pulled away… i thought i would have pulled away.

“i-im sorry i shouldn’t have done that” chris attempts to apologize

“no you should have… i know im recently single but… i want you to kiss me again…” i attempt to make him feel better the thought of his lips on mine and everywhere else on my body just came flooding down and creating a sense of heat in between my legs

chris leans in using his hand to caress my cheek before pressing his lips on mine this time in a more passionate manner, but with a hint of sexual desire in his lips, he wanted this just as much as i did, maybe more.

i softly moan into his lips as his hand travels down to my hips and up and down my upper thigh before slowly pulling away

“is this okay…?” he looks nervously down at his hand on my thigh

i nodded but that wasn’t enough for chris

“i need to hear you say it ma, tell me if i can do this” he looks at me deeply in my eyes.

“yes chris, this is perfect” i smile

“god i’ve been waiting for this my entire life” he kisses me again while using his hand to move into the waistband of his sweatpants i had on and taking off the pants laying me down on my back and pulling away from the kiss to admire the orange set of underwear i had on.

“such a whore for wearing such slutty underwear like this like you’re asking to be fucked…” he growled placing himself in between my legs and pulling my underwear to the side and admiring the glistening from my wetness coated on my pussy almost drooling and using his finger to collect my wetness on his finger.

“fuck you’re dripping…” his finger was drenched in my arousal he took his finger in his mouth to have a taste and his eyes lit up with desire and hunger for me “cooper would be shitting himself… i bet you’ve never been this wet for him eh? only for me?” he states cockily

“mhm” i smiled and nodded before adjusting myself to take off his shirt i had on showing him the rest of the matching set i had on, both being in his favorite color and little to no coverage for my hard nipples.

that’s all it took and his mouth was attached to my clit placing open mouth kisses on it eating me like his life depends on it, eating me like a gun was placed to his head for his last meal.

a loud moan escaped through my lips as my jaw when open “chris!” i yelped “fuck you’re too damn good at- at this” i state with a shakey breath.

he moaned against my pussy sending a vibration through my body feeling his smirk against me, he lifts up to speak “i bet ur sorry excuse for an ex couldn’t treat this pussy like it deserves” he smirks

“shut up christopher and use that mouth for good use” he didn’t look to happy

“i didn’t say you could speak back to me” he lightly slaps my clit, causing my hips

to jerk forward and a soft whimper let out my lips.

“oh? you like that?” he slaps it again and another whimper softly comes out me

he dips his head down in my legs again adding a finger and curling upwards to hit my spot just right and my toes began to curl and my back arching off the bed and moans leaking from my mouth, he adds another finger curling both upwards with ease.

“oh- oh chris!” i hum softly “d-don’t s-stop please s-s-so close” my legs tremble lightly

“don’t plan on it ma” he muttered against me occasionally looking up at me supporting myself with my elbows dug into the mattress, head thrown back, with my nails twisting the sheets between my fingertips

“fuck chris i’m ab to cum” i moan out

“do it, be a good girl and cum all over my fingers” he spits moving his body upward to watch me come undone on his fingers his eyes piercing in me keeping his fingers curling up at a constant speed

“mpft- FUCK” i cursed a constant string of ‘fucks’ and ‘chris’ as my legs tremble even more and i came absolutely all over his fingers as he slowly pulls them out with a huge grin and licking my cum up on his fingers

“mmm fuck you taste amazing.. i’ve waited a long time to taste you and i’d have to say it’s the best thing that’s touched my tongue” he grins

i roll my eyes playfully trying to come down from my high “now let me suck tour dick or you fuck me into tomorrow, ur choice” i smirk

he hums softly “now i’d love to watch you suck me off but tonight is all about you sassy, so we’ll save your mouth for another night” he shoots me a wink

“there’s gonna be another night?” i ask smiling and cocking my head to the side.

“i hope you didn’t think this was a one time thing.. im gonna need your pussy in my mouth every night” he smiles pulling his pants down and his boxers down in one swift motion and taking his shirt off leaving him bare… my jaw dropped, his dick is huge… thick and LONG… the sweatpants don’t do him any justice.

he obviously catches me staring “you like what your looking at sass?”

i nod HARD… it’s so much bigger then coopers…

“good” he smirks leaning over me and pressing a passionate kiss on my lips before lining his dick up with my entrance and sliding in with ease inch by inch, i pull away moaning as he bottoms out and starts thrusting his hips at a steady pace to begin with

“oh my god, you’re so fucking tight.. and wet… fuckk” he leans his head back beginning to thrust into me a little faster

“mpfh- h-harder chris” i moan out

his hips immediately went harder hitting my spot every time again. he grabs my neck softly choking me as i’m a bigger moaning mess then i was on his fingers.

“i bet cooper could never fuck you like this… he wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy like yours” chris whispers almost growling in my ear while pounding into me causing the bed to repeatedly hit the wall

“oh chris” i groan out arching my back

“i can fuck you better then that sorry peice of shit… mmm” he groans in my ear

a loud pornographic moan escapes my lips as his tip kisses my cervix over and over again leaving my legs shaking violently beneath him.

he flips me over so my back is arched and my ass is in the air, he begins thrusting in me at a domestic pace as if he can’t control himself with me anymore he’s groaning to the point it’s almost a whimper as my ass repeatedly clapping on his pelvic bone.

“Fuckkk chris… i can feel you in my fucking throat… you’re so deep” i moan out

Smack

he lets a HARD smack on my ass before grabbing a wad of my hair and lifting me up to whisper in my ear

“you’re such a dirty whore” he says nibbling at my neck leaving dark circles on my neck “you’re mine now… no one else’s” he grunts “mine to mark” thrust “mine to fuck” thrust “mine to destroy” he lets go of my hair and pressing my head into the mattress “mine” thrust “mine” thrust “mine” my moans turns into whimpering as i become overstimulated

“c-close” i choke out, i could barely form a coherent sentence.

“mmf- me too ma… just keep taking me like a good girl you are” he groans throwing his head back, maintaining his constant hard and rough thrusts.

my legs now fully numb and shaking violently, “c-cumming” i whimper out as im releasing all over his dick leaving a white ring of cum on the base of his dick.

his thrust became sloppy as he paints my walls with his ropes of cum and slowly pulls out trying not to hurt me he rubs my lower back as i turn over and lay on my back.

“hang on ma, lemme go get a towel to clean you up” he exists the room and i hear nick from downstairs cheering

“YESSSS FINALLY YALL HOOKED UP!!! IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! but next time be quiet or wait till we’re not here yall freaks!” nick yells causing a smile to appear on my lips as chris walks in with a warm rag to start carefully wiping my legs and carefully rubbing my pussy off trying not to hurt me.

“happy birthday sassy” he smiles at me as we’re now laying down next to each other bare, skin to skin.

“thank you bubbles” i smile over at him.

“where does this leave us Y/N?” his smile drops into a nervous expression

“let’s just cuddle and we’ll talk about in the morning okay? i’m too tired” i smile at him reassuringly

he kisses my forehead bringing me closer to his chest “thank you” he whispered

“mhm” i mumbled falling fast asleep with the real man of my heart next to me.

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IDK HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THIS ONE??? it’s a long one but i had fun writing it! ALSO ILY GUYS!!! lemme know how yall enjoyed this one!!

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets

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