banner: @roseschoices divider: @cafekitsune
choso never really got mad, he didn't feel the need to get all up in arms about things he couldn't t control, the only thing he could do was control his own emotions and that's what he did most of the time.
growing up with brothers aren't easy, they turn you over, rat you out, get you in trouble, everything under the sun, so choso was used to teasing and rough play, but what he wasn't used to was seeing you practically naked trying to go out the house.
his blood didn't immediately boil at the sight, he tried to stay calm of course and question the situation, like why the fuck his partner was walking out of the house with a bikini top and shorts that barely covered the bottom of your ass.
“oh! im just having a beach day with my friends.” the innocent smile on your face convinced him that you weren't aware that your outfit wasn't necessarily appropriate to wear, so he didn't shoot you down too quick and instead put the same smile on his face.
“is that right? i didn't know. do you have a cover-up?” trying to slide in the subliminal quickly and smoothly, but once he heard your answer, his blood ran over and told you to please change your outfit.
“i… choso i just got this outfit.” those words sliding into his ears and sliding right out, he couldn't give one fuck. normally he wouldn't care what you wore, but that right there was a no no. you're going on a day trip with your friends without him wearing that, whose attention were you trying to get?
there was no need for him to keep trying to explain to you why you shouldn't even be wearing that outfit in the first place, but his dick thought otherwise, a prime example as to why you shouldn't be wearing it.
if it can happen to him, it can happen to anyone else.
“go change.” his jaw clenching and his arms folded as he stares you down, waiting for you to budge or break down, giving up and go change.”
“no, bye.” you slide on one flip-flops before choso walks closer to you, grabbing you by the waist and bending down and leaning closer to your ear.
“go change for me. don't be difficult.” his breath warm and sliding over your ear then neck, almost making you collapse, but you had to hold your own.
“no.” with that final no, choso picks you up and puts you over his shoulder. it was over for you, when he walked to the bedroom and tossed you on the bed, you knew you weren't making it to the beach.
choso stripped your shorts off revealing a bikini and not even five minutes later, the both of you were naked, and you were on all fours arched with your head against the pillow and chosos dick sliding in and out of you.
moans falling out of your mouth as his body clashes with yours and his hands roam your body, sending chills and then tingles shortly after. your eyes rolling up to the top of your eyelid and your body jolting every time he hit your sweet spot, the overwhelming pleasure was too much for you to handle.
your hands try to grip the sheet, but choso puts his hands over yours, balls them into a fist and puts them behind your back.
choso couldn't stop fucking you. the thought of someone else seeing you in that outfit made him upset, his blood boiling, turning into arousal.
he fucked you into the early morning. that day forward you never wore anything to piss him off, or maybe you did, getting fucked by an angry choso was painfully hot.
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Tentateur
Miguel O'Hara x Cheated on!fem Reader
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. SMUT at the end, bit of angst, fluff, adult situations. Cheating, divorce.
Requested here
Summary: Miguel can't stand watching you being neglected by your husband.
------
If there was something Miguel hated, was life being too generous upon those that didn't deserve it, not even the slightest. Meaning, a dickhead for a coworker and sadly, your husband.
How could such a guy like him ended up with a sweetheart like you was beyond him, The man was apathetic, little to no charm, rude and an absolute bastard.
"She's uh, my wife." He had said flatly. Your name felt like sandpaper on his tongue as it rolled out of it while introducing you to the rest at a small party at Alchemax.
Miguel had noticed the little stab of hurt crossing your angelic face. He wanted to punch him straight in the face, even some of the other couples had noticed the small tension. But you just stood there, trying to give your best smile. The golden band around your finger and the loving stare your eyes casted on your husband was a clear 'Don't even try it' for him.
But for once, Miguel didn't care.
----
He didn't exactly know how the crush on you had started. At first he thought that was just him feeling lonely and that his eyes wandered too much. But when you visited, lunch bag in hand, looking for your husband only to give him a bedazzling smile upon seeing him, and he receiving you with a tight-lipped smile, made his heart to break a little more.
"Hey" You were about to kiss him but he just backed away.
"I'm working."
"Alright, alright. See you later?"
He just gave a quick nod and put the lunchbox on his desk. There wasn't love in his goodbye kiss, Miguel noted. Once you were out, he rummaged through its contents while rolling his eyes.
He looked around and spotted Miguel with a mug on his hand.
"Hey, pal." He called and offered him.
"Want some?" Miguel seized him from head to toes but just nodded. It felt the only way that he could have a bit of you at the moment.
"Take whatever you like. Wife always goes overboard with food." Miguel took the small dessert container. It tasted divine. It only matched your own sweetness.
Lucky Bastard.
Oh he was. His eyebrows pressed together as he kept giving away all the food you had so dotingly prepared him.
----
"Can we talk about this later? You can't just keep visiting me every time you feel so"
"But you keep forgetting lunch at home, can't leave you like-"
"It's fine really, we have vending machines here." Your husband grumbled, but you couldn't help but hold the lunchbox tightly against your arms.
"I see. Sorry." You gave him a small smile, "See you later?"
"Im busy today. Might get a couple hours late. Don't wait for me."
You just nodded as Miguel jaw tensed.
How dared he?
You left.
-----
You had bumped into him at the supermarket on a weekend. Your cart was full of food, food that would end up in his hands and the rest of the team but never in your husband's mouth.
"Miguel, right?"
He nodded as he pulled some items for himself in his basket.
"Thanks for helping me." you smiled, his heart thumped harder.
"Where is..." He cleared his throat and you looked up at him.
"My husband? Oh, he said he had an extra shift today. Working in Alchemax surely is hard, I mean, I try to make it less... bad for him."
Miguel's mind was sneering, not at you but at the fake pretense of a hard working man the son of a bitch had put up with you. He knew the truth, he knew your husband only went there, did things wrong and half assed, and lately he had been flirting shamelessly with a lab technician from the upper floor.
His hatred for the man only grew, just as his admiration for you. What truly made you marry someone like him? That's the biggest question he had so far.
"I'm kind of nervous, today's our anniversary. I wanna surprise him with something" Your cheeks tinted red.
God you were killing him. He wanted to grab you gently by your shoulders, and say 'I can be better' cause of course he could, he was. You'd never have to settle for less with him.
'I appreciate you' cause he did, unlike the fool you had married. 'You'd never have to beg me' because in truth, he was already at your feet.
But you weren't his. Not yet.
-----
Sighing, Miguel put the lab test equipment away, then headed for the main office to get a couple more samples of a liquid he tried, but stopped dead in his tracks at the sight.
Legs wrapped around a man's waist, as his pants were down at his ankles. The woman shrieked once she noticed Miguel standing there with a frown and disgusted face. Miguel’s anger froze when the man next to her turned to be none but your husband.
The man recoiled to himself upon Miguel glaring holes his way.
----
His shoulder was poked by none other that the cheating pig.
"Uh, hey. Can we.... Can you, I mean-"
He stumbled on his words, Miguel towered over him, his eyes belittling him. He was bold.
"You saw nothing, yeah?"
And oh so phony. Disgusting.
Miguel just went back to his work.
It was the last straw.
-------
To his surprise you were sitting on a café, puffy and tear crusted eyes staring into nothingness, a phone on your hands. You knew.
He didn't know whether to approach you, or just leave you be. As much as he wanted you, he knew that coming at you in your most vulnerable state would not only make a bad impression oh him, but he didn't want to act like a vulture, looming over your broken heart for him to take.
He approached carefully.
"Hey"
"Miguel..."
"Are you okay?"
Your eyes avoided him.
"May I sit?"
You nodded with a hiccup and he offered you his handkerchief, fresh hot tears spilled in the soft fabric. His chest constricting at the sight.
"He cheated on me."
Much to your dismay, he knew. Of course, he wanted to tell you, but knowing how careless your husband acted, it was a matter of time for you to discover the cheating.
"I'm really sorry to hear that."
Shaking your head, you sniffed
"He has been doing this for months. Should've... saw this coming. I mean... I found so many pictures of a woman and... God"
He was pretty sure that he would punch the man next time he'd see him.
"He never came home to our anniversary, but even way before that. He just... I wasn't enough."
He frowned and took your hand softly.
"Stop. Cheating is a personal choice, guapa. You can't blame yourself for other's choices. He decided to do so, to trash away his marriage. It has nothing to do with you."
"Maybe if... I was-"
"No. You're... you're perfect. Puta madre, you're more than perfect. He's a lucky bastard just to have you. And... If I was him-"
He stopped his words and pursed his lips. You didn't need this. He'd have to be patient. You stared at him gently.
"I'll file for a divorce. He's barely coming home anyways and... that pretty much says on it's own that is over."
Miguel just nodded.
"Might celebrate it." You chuckled after wiping your tears.
"Can I ask you something?"
Again, you nodded.
"I know it's none of my business but, I'm just genuinely curious as to why you'd marry him?"
"Impulsiveness, I guess." you shrugged, your hand resting some inches away from his.
"He just proposed one day out of the blue, we had been dating for six months. Don't... don't look at me like that. I know it was stupid." you groaned.
"It's alright. You thought it was love." His hand inched closer, you nodded.
"We had our problems. A lot, actually. But... instead of speaking things like a fucking adult, he went on cheating."
"Mira, guapa... yo" He trailed off unsure of resisting any longer, his resolution to wait vanishing, "I know that this is a really bad time for you and-"
"Please... don't. Miguel I-"
"Just listen, ok? Please?" His hand finally took yours gently.
"I know this is the least of things you need right now, but... You have no idea how... how perfect you are. I always saw you visiting him, being loving, and he just threw all that away. He lost you. You're way too much for him."
Your body tensed upon sensing where this was going. Of course you weren't ignorant, you'd notice the glances he would give your way, the yearning in his eyes every time you kissed or acted like lovesick fool with your glacial husband.
" Let me show you, how would I treat you, if you were mine."
"Miguel, I don't want to-."
"Let me take you to dinner. If you don't like anything and I mean it, anything, I'll stop and leave you be. Just a dinner. Hell, you could ramble about him for hours and I'd just be happy for you to be there."
You sighed, it was a rather simple choice to say yes or no. There was nothing that actually tied you to your ex husband now. Just a very skewed moral code.
" Just a dinner. "
His heart fluttered and he nodded
"Just a dinner and I'll drop you home."
----
Miguel helped you out of his car, eyes drinking in your form. He would be lying if he said that he didn't feel jealous of the dress you were wearing, snugging all your curves in the right spots, just a tiny thing to make your own beauty to stand out even more. Gorgeous, flawless, divine and perfect.
You gasped at the location
"Are you sure this is the place? It's quite expensive."
Your concern was endearing, he offered you his arm and guided you inside.
"You're worth it, princesa."
The place seemed like being inspired from an old movie, elegant, classic and of course fancy. Never in your life your ex husband would actually treat you to places like these. His card would explode, he said once. Other places were good, but this was in a whole new level of luxury.
Miguel held the chair for you, and you sat, he followed.
"This place is gorgeous." He chuckled and took your hand to kiss your soft knuckles.
"Just like you."
----
Time flew, the night had been to your surprise one of the best things that you have experienced. You had tasted things that didn't know existed, Miguel had fed you the dessert, pampering you to no end. The wine was delicious.
As night advanced, his little touches had turned more and more risqué, his fingers would take a taste of your exposed thigh skin, your hands would brush his, fiery and small caresses that sparked a silent yet mutual fire.
Once home you couldn't get your hands out of eachother. He had to be careful to not rip your dress to bits, he needed you. The wet kisses in your neck and his wandering hands all over your heated body the proof of it. When was the last time that someone touched you like this?
Not even him, the man that oathed to love you and be with you through thick and thin. A gentle rub on your clit by expert fingers made you forget about him. Lock his memory in a vault and you'd throw the key somewhere. Your hips would buck against his hand, rolling on waves after waves of pleasure.
"He didn't touch you?" You shook your head as your mouth gaped open.
"When was-"
"Shut up." you moaned breathlessly. An I don't know nor care.
Your body responded so well too him, be the need you tried to sate with your own hands, or the loneliness that had made you so desperate that had you squirming and soaked and he was only using his hands so far. With Miguel, things felt differently. He did things differently. And different was good. So so good.
His hunger for you shown and conveyed in every caress and touch he gave you. He was gentle enough for his desire to permeate your skin. You didn't feel alone. You felt needed. Loved even. There was no turning back once you discarded all the clothes on both ends.
----
Opposite to what you believed, your heart wasn't flooding with guilt. No.
There were no longer what ifs and what not constantly echoing in your brain. There was no longer that constricting sensation in your chest you always had. No more uncertainty. You were free.
Last night Miguel, whose arms cradled your form to be snuggled in his chest and his thigh hooked on your hip, hoarding you. As if fearful you'd go away, had made you experience a whole new concept of pleasure. Your body soared in bliss, you were glowing, He had given you climax after climax, making every single one of them more shattering and intense than the other.
That's all you wanted really. Feel at ease and blissful. Miguel had given you that and more. More than you actually ever though deserving. It was just a matter of time that you'd finally take him whole.
You wanted him. His kindness, his care, his love, his grumpyness during mornings, the way he cursed in spanish whenever he'd stub his toe in the nightstand. You wanted it all.
Of course you had filed for a divorce as soon as you could, your husband was more than happy to comply. He hadn't been home for a while, Miguel even told you that he had quitted. It was as if the universe was removing him from your life ever since you started with Miguel a couple months ago.
But none of that mattered. Not when he had plopped you down to bed, hands holding a firm grip in your sweaty and smooth skin, hips straddling yours and plowing into you from behind, prone bone position. His hips buried himself deep, hitting that spot over and over. He wasn't gentle, but that's just exactly how you liked it.
Before you could actually reach the stars he flipped you over, your thighs resting ontop of his. He sheathed once more inside. Your phone buzzed.
You growled in annoyance, Miguel sighed. A number you knew all too well. Finally you'd get the news you so needed to hear.
"Y-Yeah?" Miguel smirked as he held your thighs together and pushed in further, his tip kissing your cervix so deliciously you had to bite your lip to suppress a moan. The little baby bump in your abdomen barely noticeable.
"Shit's done. Papers are signed."
There was a bit of rustling and the clinking of glass. By his tone, you knew he was getting drunk, celebrating. Miguel took the phone and put it on speaker.
"Ya know? I'm glad I did. Couldn't stand you, nagging all the time. But I'm a free man now, baby." His gulping, something you secretly hated, could be heard on the other line.
Miguel frowned and spreaded your legs once more.
"You there?" Your ex chuckled, "It's okay if you're crying, won't judge"
So so annoying.
A smirk appeared on your face as Miguel focused the camera on your body. He then turned the video call on. The man's face instantly fell upon watching you bouncing on a cock that surely put his to shame. Spine arching, breast jiggling and mouth spewing the lewdest of moans and needy whimpers he hsd ever heard from you. One tan hand secured you in place, preventing you from squirming too much.
"Sorry, pal." He grunted as he started to ram his hips in abandonment, making your toes curl. Your face and body said it all. The video image shaking at his thrust
"Just like that, bonita?" You choked a sob as he went balls in deep, nodding and begging him for him to not stop.
"She's busy." He hung up the call before the man could say anything and tossed your phone somewhere in the bed.
You felt so good, perfect for him, And now you were all his.
------
tag list: @primroselovessupernatural
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It comes as somewhat a surprise when the others realize that something has obviously happened between their resident Lieutenant and Private, as she’s quick to fall silent whenever he appears, and even more so make herself scare when she can when he’s around. It’s only the third time that Soap sees it that he says something, because if he doesn’t no one else will, and where’s the fun in that?
He watches her duck her head and leave the break room, Gaz, Soap, Price, and Ghost sitting alone at the breakfast table conversing over soggy cereal and cooling tea; Soap pushes a piece of bacon on his plate and asks, “Trouble in paradise, Lt?” the corner of his mouth arches with a slight grin when he hears the warning grunt come from Ghost.
“No.”
“Seems like it,” he retorts, taking a sip of his coffee. “What’d ya do? Tell her ta fuck off?”
“Drop it, MacTavish,” Ghost warns darkly. “Nothing’s wrong.”
This time, Gaz jumps in. “C’mon, Lt., it’s obvious that something’s wrong. I mean, she won’t even look at you, let alone say anything unless you speak first.”
“An’ she’s callin’ ‘im ‘sir.’” Soap adds, pointing at him. “Christ, Lt., ya musta done a number on ‘er. Poor Puffin. So sweet and kind. Broke ‘er heart ya did.”
Price can tell that Ghost is close to snapping at the both of them but gets to it before he does. “Soap, Gaz, go catalogue our inventory for the mission next week.”
“Aw, but we already d—” Soap falls silent when Price shoots him a look and quietly grumbles to himself as he grabs his plate and cup, Gaz following in suit.
It’s only until the two soldiers are alone that Price asks, “What did happen, Simon?”
Ghost lets out a long sigh and rolls his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Pretty much told ‘er to fuck off.”
Price watches quietly as Ghost begins rattling to himself—he’s never really had to ask the man to explain himself. All he’s gotta do is prompt him to do so and Ghost does the rest.
“I just got mad. She’s always ‘round and practically up my arse, and I got caught up and instead of ‘andlin’ it properly, I shoved my fucking foot in my mouth and scalped her.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I meant to be gentler but once I started, I couldn’t stop. It just kept comin’ out. And now she fuckin’ hates me.”
He pulls his hand down and looks up at Price with a scowl—the man is smiling at him, but it’s that stupid smile that means more than Ghost wants to admit it does.
“Quit that.”
“You care about her,” Price murmurs, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, though his admonish is still harsh. “And instead of telling her how you felt like a grown adult, you took the ten-year-old way out and decided to be a cunt to her.”
“I didn’t mean to be such a cunt.”
“But the fact of the matter is that you did, and you’ve screwed up team fluidity and cohesion.” He looks at him. “You know a team divided—”
“Can’t stand,” Ghost finishes with an even worse scowl. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He looks away. “I just don’t know how to even start tryin’ to fix it.”
“Well, apologizing might be a good start,” Price rumbles with a grin. “She’s a good kid, Simon. Her heart’s in the right place, even if it’s a bit much at times. Shows she cares. More than most do in our line of work. She’s a rare one.”
“I know,” he admits in a much, much softer tone. “I just don’t want her to lose that doin’ this.” His eyes meet Price’s, and they hold such a misery. “Look at us, Price,” he mutters, gesturing between them. “Middle age, unmarried, no kids, too fucked up for anything like that. She doesn’t…” he clenches his jaw. “She deserves a better path, a safer path, than this life. She deserves to go out and have a life where she comes home to a family.”
“That’s not your choice to make, son,” he replies gently, but there’s a firmness to it. “If this is what she wants to do, then she will. We can’t make her get out of service.”
Ghost growls low in his throat. “She has so much more potential than being cannon fodder. She could do somethin’ with her life. Somethin’ good. Somethin’ that won’t have her dying face down in the sand with a bullet wound in the back.”
Price simply watches him.
“But she’s so fuckin’ stupid. She wants to be here. She wants to spend whatever time she has dodgin’ bullets and wakin’ up every night in sweat ‘cause she can’t escape the dreams. No one wants to do this. We don’t want to do this. We do this because we have to. But her? She’s happy here.” He lowers his voice, it’s as if he’s in disbelief. “She’s happy here.” He looks at Price. “Why? Why is she so happy here?”
It's another long moment before Price speaks.
“You hear, son, but you don’t listen.” He moves the cup on the saucer. “She bounced around homes growing up, scraped by on the skin of her teeth. She has no one. But here, she has something. She has people who care for her, if nothing else, they won’t let her die alone.”
“Oh what? So, it’s found family bullshit?” Ghost spits. “If she dies, at least the team would mourn her?”
“Isn’t that what you’ve done too?” he replies, and Ghost falls silent. “People like Gaz, Soap, and myself are different than you and she are, Simon. We have homes. We’ve had families that have loved us, that do love us. But you two? Simon, you’ve made a home where you’ve had to. Made a family out of people you’ve bled for, would gladly bleed for. You’ve made something that’s yours. You made a family for yourself. And so did she. She’s made us her family. The one she never had the privilege to call her own.”
Price lets out a quiet hum, and pats his thighs, standing up and pushing his chair in.
“Think on what I’ve said, son. And if nothing else, apologize and leave it at that. Put the ball in her court and let her make the next move.”
As he walks off, he hears, “And if she doesn’t want it?”
He tosses a knowing look over his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll take it.” His eyes twinkle as he adds, “Takes an awful strong woman to care about a man like you.”
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✮ pampering a giant baby - gojo satoru
synopsis: gojo satoru rarely gets sick, but when he does, he acts like a child (you don't mind that because when will you ever get the chance of taking care of gojo?)
warnings: sick gojo, fluff, gn!reader, gojo is stubborn (hates being taken care of) — wc: 528
notes: IM BACK YEAHHHHHHH im almost finished with my finals so here we are :3
“y/n, please leave.” satoru blocks the door with his tall figure, leaving you unable to enter his apartment. “i’m begging you.”
you huff, standing your ground. “i am not leaving until you let me take care of you. you’re sick, toru! your body is heating up as we speak.”
“i’m fine-” satoru lets out a cough. “seriously, just go home! i can take care of myself.” as soon as he says that, he sneezes, knees feeling weak. you quickly catch him before he falls.
“‘i’m fine’ my ass. come on, let me take care of you for once.” you mumble, helping satoru inside. you gently lay him on the couch, to which he instantly rests his head on the pillows. “i’ll go make you some porridge, yeah?”
satoru nods, too weak to speak. you instantly got to work, cooking up a porridge as quietly as possible to not disturb his rest. as soon as you finished making the porridge, you brought it over to satoru, gently waking him up. “toru, wake up. you need to eat.”
satoru reluctantly opens his eyes. “can i eat later? i feel sick.”
“you have to eat now so then you can drink some medicine. after that i promise you i’ll let you sleep as much as you want.” you softly say, helping satoru sit up. “just eat a few bites and i’ll be happy.” you hold the spoon full of warm porridge in front of him and he opens his mouth, just wide enough to eat.
after a few bites, satoru mumbles about how full he feels and you stop, quickly grabbing medicine from the drawer and a cup of water. “here. drink this and you’ll feel better.” satoru drank the medicine and you smiled. “there.”
instead of laying back down on the pillow, he lays his head on your lap. “sorry.”
you tilt your head in confusion. “hm? what are you sorry for?”
“don’t know… just feels annoying being sick.” satoru mumbles, hiding his face in your shirt. “i hate feeling like this.”
“mm, i know, baby. everyone has their sick days. you know how it is.” you say, gently caressing his head. “i don’t mind taking care of you for once, though. it’s a good change. i like it.”
“i should be taking care of you, not the other way around.” satoru complains, finally meeting your eyes. “it’s like- i don’t know. it feels weird.”
“hey, don’t feel bad. i like taking care of you, don’t worry.” you leaned down and gave satoru a quick kiss on the lips, to which he immediately covered his lips. “what?”
“i’m sick! you can’t just kiss me! what if you get sick too?” satoru’s voice is muffled behind his hands. “i don’t want you to get sick too.”
you smiled. “i won’t. trust me. now you go back to sleep and you’ll feel better in the morning because my porridge has magical healing powers.”
satoru laughs and closes his eyes, quickly falling back to sleep.
(the next day, you were woken up by a scratchy throat and blocked nose — to which satoru was delighted because he can finally take care of you).
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Look at Him.
✩࿐ summary: your attempts at reentering the dating scene is foiled by your ex-husband.
warning(s): past relationship, clingy!gojo, ex-husband!gojo, co-parenting situation, crack fic. wc; 1.6k
pairing(s): gojo satoru x fem!reader
a/n: this is purely just a goof fic because i've put nothing but angst out there so far sooo have a laugh. hope yall enjoy :3
“So, what do you do for a living?”
"A teacher."
"Oh, wow! What grade, subject?"
"Uh, highschoolers and the subject kinda varies on the day."
"Like a substitute teacher?"
"Um....sure, yeah! Substitute teacher."
"That's awesome. Mad respect, kids can be demons."
You were quickly discovering that the dating field had changed in the five years that you had been married. An endless back and forth about what someone did, what's their favorite color, what's their hobbies. Boring questions that you would ask your students on the first day was used in over the table date conversation. Until, until, they got to that question they so desperately wanted to ask.
Would you want to take this back to my—
There was a vibration against your thigh as your date started to go onto a monologue about how much he disliked kids. In all honesty, you couldn't really remember his name. The introductions had been awkward and a little nerve wracking— you were almost sure he had no idea who you were either.
You tugged your phone out of your pocket and resisted the audible sigh that threatened to leave you when you saw the notification.
Satoru
please tell me why my beautiful, radiant, amazing, intelligent daughter just said her mommy is on a date.
feeling sick to my stomach, don't tell me this is true.
You rolled your eyes. Your ex-husband had always been so overdramatic. His main focus was always on the bit that could come from a situation. However, this was a quality you do used to admire about him. His ability to make any situation seem like it was a funny happenstance that you'd never encounter again.
Now, it was nothing more than a nuisance.
Satoru
oh my god, you left me on read. it's true. it's true.
i hope you know i just threw up. i threw up everywhere. i might die.
at least, tell me he's ugly. please god let him to be ugly.
A sigh, you typed out the quickest message you could without your date asking what's wrong.
You
I hope you're not ignoring said daughter to ask me about some date. I'll be home later, please refrain from texting me.
You were about to set your phone down when another text came through. This one appeared to more distraught than the last.
Satoru
o h your tone. it's over. it's really over.
i might just kill myself this is the worst night of my life.
y/n, i'm genuinely feeling sick.
please, is he ugly?
he must be boring because you're texting back.
You were almost inclined to remind Satoru you both had been divorced for a year already. That this was bound to happen and you two had, in fact, spoken about it months into the divorce. You had played with some 'what if's and there was a mutual agreement that the other wouldn't get jealous and be dramatic about the other getting in a relationship whenever the time comes. It was a surprisingly adult conversation.
You should've known better when Satoru proudly proclaimed he didn't care who you got involved with.
You
Satoru, we talked about this. We're adults and we're divorced. Please bother someone else, like Suguru.
Satoru
i don't wanna talk to suguru. i wanna talk to youuu (;﹏;)
i can't believe you've done this.
ten years. ten years of loyalty. im sick to my stomach.
You
You asked for the divorce.
"Is everything okay?"
You eyes snapped up from your phone and towards your date. He had the good grace to be wearing a relatively concerned expression, eyeing you wearily.
You quickly tucked your phone back into your pocket, ignoring the insistent vibrations it gave to smile apologetically. "I'm sorry, my daughter had an accident and I had to, you know, send a quick text to her babysitter." It was easier to explain away a daughter than it was a clingy ex-husband who was well in his dissent into insanity. Really, you were doing this guy a favor keeping him in the dark.
However, his face still paled and he straightened. "You have a kidI'm so, so sorry. I just went on a two minute rant about how much kids are equivalent to demons." He seemed to spiral as he pressed his hands against his face, uttering curses to himself. "I get so nervous with these dates. I truly meant nothing by it."
You smiled in amusement, "It's no problem, really. I'm not exactly disagreeing." He peeked from between his fingers and blinked at you dumbly. "Just because I'm a parent doesn't mean I don't agree. I mean, my kid can be a bit much sometimes. I love her, but she's a lot like her dad in that way."
It always made your chest blossom. The way Saori was a carbon copy of Satoru. From the rambunctious personality, to the piercing blue eyes, and white hair. Your genes hadn't won in the battle, but you were almost grateful. Satoru tried to tell you that she had your smile and your wit, but you weren't entirely convinced. She was Satoru and Satoru was her.
You were extremely lucky that he was a good dad.
"Oh? Do you mind me asking if her dad's still around?" His tone was indication enough: a daughter and an ex of some kind was pushing it for him.
You tensed up, feeling deep regret already. "Uh, yeah." His eyes shifted away and you reached forward, taking his hand. "But, he's not, like, crazy or anything! He's just a good dad."
Your date chuckled nervously. "I-I just don't want to get involved in some, um, some family dynamic."
You thought it was a little presumptuous of him to think this would go that far, or he'd get in the way. But you were too focused on defusing the situation.
"Oh, no, it's not like that! We've got a healthy balance, y'know? He does his piece, I do mine— that's it!"
He scrunched his face. "So... an open relationship?"
"No!" You press your hands against your face with a huff. "No, we're not together anymore. We just co-parent."
He opened his mouth to further question you when your phone vibrated very audibly. His eyebrows raising. "Your daughter?"
You sighed. "Please give me one moment."
With jerky movements, you pull your phone from your pocket. The assortment of messages that came where spread over the ten minutes you decided to ignore him.
Satoru
okay, you've got me there.
but my big heart is breaking.
i hope he's ugly and he smells.
okay, i spoke with suguru and he said i'm an idiot who should apologize.
in my defense, i'm a little itty bitty drunk. and no, saori is not awake. papa put her to bed before bringing out the whiskey.
im so sorry my beautiful deity. that not ugly, not smelly man is so lucky to be in your presence and i hope you have a good date.
also i hope he gets hit my a car.
(^▽^)
You
I'm going to kill you with my bare hands. Genuinely, count your days, Gojo Satoru.
Satoru
hot, hot, hot!!! (●´□`)♡
did he actually get hit by a car?
You
Is there something you want?
Satoru
him dead.
and you home :((((
You
You don't want me home. I swear to god, if you're on my couch, drinking when I get home, I will ruin your life.
Satoru
promise??? ╰(✿´⌣`✿)╯♡
but, actually, i wanted to ask your opinion on something
You
For real?
Satoru
for realsies.
[Image Attachment]
Completely blinded by your irritation, you don't even hesitate to open the picture as it loads. Although you regret it the moment it does.
It's a picture of Satoru. He's at what seems to be the beach (must've been the fun activity him and Saori were going to join Suguru for), his sunglasses were on the top of his head, and he was grinning at the picture. One hand was resting against his pectoral and the veins in his hand was prominent. An obvious attempt at being charming and flirtatious. It was working too.
If it weren't for the fact that you knew him and were his ex, you might've just swooned.
"Oh, my god, is that him?" Your date was staring at your phone with wide eyes. His face even more pale than before. He started to shake his head as he stood, snatching his jacket from the back of his chair. "No way. I am not getting involved! I'm sorry, you're a nice woman, but I know when I'm not winning. And I'm definitely not winning against that."
Your eyes widened considerably, "What? No! Please don't leave. He's an idiot, I swear there's nothing—"
"He is... a hunk. I am not. In no shape or form am I at all comparable to that. Look—" He reached forward, grabbing your phone and holding the picture up to be beside his face. "Look at the difference! Model who has won Japan's hottest man at least eight times before he's 30 to me— Look at him!"
"It's not even like that!" You snatched your phone back and stared at him in frustration. "He's my ex, I do not want him!"
He waved his hands in front of your face. "I know how this will go. You think you like me and then your super hot and super sexy ex-whatever makes you realize the familiarity is good. Then I get dumped." He straightened, latching his hands onto the lapels of his jacket. "I just realized I am a side character. In my own life. Goddammit."
He barely glanced at you as he paid for the dinner, then left as quickly as he could. Still, you didn't even know his name.
Satoru
oooo taking you awhile to respondddd
still in love with me? (人◕ω◕)
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