#CAN SHE NOT BE HAPPY FOR FIVE FUCKING MINUTES

[mooningningg]

notes, anon? this was lovely.

★ Roommate!Sukuna when you give him the silent treatment.

It started with something dumb. Most things with Sukuna did.

A sarcastic jab that cut too deep. An eye roll when you were already fed up. You didn’t even yell — just went quiet. Too quiet.

And that scared him more than anything.

At first, Sukuna was smug about it. Thought you were just being dramatic.

“Aw, what’s wrong, brat?” he snorted that night in the kitchen, shirtless, eating cereal out of the box like a menace. “Pissed I said your cooking was trash? Wasn’t even an insult. It was trash.”

You didn’t reply. Just walked past him like he wasn’t there.

That? That pissed him off more than your usual yelling.

“Oi. Don’t ignore me.” He turned, watching you grab your water from the fridge without even a glance in his direction. “I said something.”

Nothing.

Not a glance. Not a twitch.

Just the sound of the fridge door closing and your soft footsteps back down the hall.

He stared after you, jaw clenched. “Fuckin’ hell.”

Day one? He tried annoying you.

Left his towels all over the bathroom floor. Stole your snacks. Sat next to you on the couch just to shake his knee until you snapped.

You didn’t even flinch.

He waved a hand in front of your face once. “You dead?”

No response.

Day two? He tried teasing.

“Look, I know you miss my voice. It’s the best part of your day,” he said, sprawled out on your bed uninvited. “You can keep pretending, but I know you’re suffering.”

You stepped into your room, took one look at him, and pointed to the door.

He blinked. “You serious?”

Silence.

He scoffed. “You’re being fuckin’ dramatic.”

You shut the door in his face.

By day three, Sukuna was spiraling.

You didn’t laugh at his jokes. Didn’t glare when he stole your charger. Didn’t argue about what to watch on Netflix. You just… stopped reacting.

It was driving him insane.

“Alright, fuck this,” he muttered, stomping into your room uninvited — again. He leaned on the doorframe, shirtless and annoyed. “This ain’t funny anymore.”

You were at your desk, reading.

He hated it.

“I’m not apologizing,” he said quickly, before you could say nothing again. “You’re the one acting like a child.”

Still, no reaction.

Sukuna’s mouth twitched. “What, you think this makes you look cool? You’re not mysterious, sweetheart. You’re fuckin’ annoying.”

You turned the page.

Something in him cracked.

“Fine,” he snapped, marching across the room. “If you’re not gonna talk, then listen.”

He yanked your book from your hands, tossed it on the bed, and leaned down over you.

His hands came down on either side of your chair. Caging you in.

“You ignoring me like this?” he growled, voice low. “It’s cute for, like, five minutes. But you’re gonna make me lose my fuckin’ mind.”

You still didn’t speak — just lifted your brows.

He cursed. “I don’t even know what the hell I said. You always get all soft when I call you a brat, but now suddenly I’m the villain?”

Nothing.

“I’m not good at this shit, alright? You want me to say sorry? Fuckin’ fine. Sorry. You happy now?”

Still no response.

He looked at you like you’d grown two heads. “...You're really not gonna talk to me?”

Silence.

“You fuckin’ like this, don’t you?” His voice dropped. “You like watchin’ me squirm.”

Then, slowly, his mouth tilted into a dangerous smirk.

“Fine. Keep ignoring me. I’ll make you speak some other way.”

He leaned in, close — lips just barely brushing your ear.

“I bet I can get you to scream real easy.”

You shoved him off your chair instantly, cheeks burning.

He laughed, victorious.

“There she is,” he grinned, arms folded as he backed out the door. “Took you long enough.”

You slammed the door on him again.

But this time, you were biting back a smile.

Taglist, @humeysaga @williamafton26 @aranisbaee @probablynotleahhhh @probablynotleahhhh.

[stillalivebydemand893]

Mosh Pits & Real Bruises

18+(can't keep it pg13 even if i tried)

A chaotic weekend at Riot Fest becomes a battle of unresolved tension when you’re forced to share a tent with Erik

The moment you stepped out of Julia’s Jeep and into the chaos of Riot Fest, you knew this weekend was going to end in either sex, arson, or both.

Mud. Music. Mayhem.

And him.

Erik. Fucking. Campbell.

Shirtless. Covered in tattoos. Sunglasses on despite the fact it was cloudy as shit. Holding a six-pack of root beer like it was the Holy Grail and he was the sin-soaked Indiana Jones of your nightmares.

You froze. Eyeliner? Shaking.

“JULIA,” you hissed.

“What?” she replied, with the stone-cold cool of someone who definitely knew what she did. She popped her gum like a villain. “I thought you’d be happy. I put you in the same tent. Save on space. And, y’know…”

She raised an eyebrow.

“The friction.”

You blinked. “I’m going to end you.”

“Don’t dry hump too hard,” she added cheerfully, grabbing her duffel. “The zippers can’t handle that kind of tension. Trust me. I speak from deeply unfortunate experience.”

You spun on her, ready to either scream or cry or crawl into a garbage can.

“You what?! Jules, are you serious?Im going to faint, I need three packs of Marlboros and a gallon of tequila right fucking now.”

“It’ll be fine,” she shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Cue Erik walking up like he heard from God Himself.

“Peach,” he said, dragging the nickname out like a goddamn love song dipped in sarcasm. “Nice to see your eyeliner survived the car ride. Did you use paint thinner this time?”

“You’re one joke away from getting buried alive in a port-a-potty, Campbell.”

Still, you hugged him.. The worst part? He felt good. Warm. Familiar. Like the disaster you never quite outgrew.

This was the guy who made you fall in love with KISS when he showed you Detroit Rock City on DVD ages ago. He used to made fun of you every time you sobbed at the end like a widow.

“THEY MADE UP, ERIK. AT THE CONCERT. IT’S FUCKING BEAUTIFUL,” you’d wailed once, sobbing into his shirt.

He just laughed. “Get a grip, Jesus. You’re leaking.”

Now, standing here, shirtless and smug, he was the same annoying bastard. But hotter. More dangerous.

“By the way,” he added, casually, “don’t spray that crime-against-noses perfume inside the tent again. I swear I sneezed for five hours straight last year.”

You flipped him off. “I’ll just fart instead.”

He nearly tripped over the tent trying to chase you down.

And just like that, war was declared.

By 4 PM your Docs were murdering your feet, you were on your third vodka Red Bull, and Erik had already managed to:

• Flirt with both bartenders.

• Arm wrestle a guy in a fishnet bodysuit.

• Steal a joint from a group of hippies and pretend he “found it on the ground.”

And somehow still have enough energy to piss you off every 15 minutes.

You were mid-rant about your boots when Julia dropped a bomb from her festival chair like she was narrating a true crime documentary.

“So... tiny thing. Your ex is here.”

You stopped chewing your fry.

“WHAT?Don’t joke with things like that Jules!I almost choked.”

“Brad. Cargo shorts. Tank top. Emotional damage.”

You blinked. Hard. Calculating whether stabbing him with a corn dog stick was legally considered assault or performance art.

Erik plopped down beside you. “Why do you look like you’re planning a crime?”

“Her ex is here,” Julia replied, sipping a neon drink .

“Fucking Brad? Is he still pretending to care about climate change to get laid?”

“Worse,” Julia said. “He’s with that TikTok blonde. Looks like she filters her soul.”

You stood, rage bubbling. “Nope. I’m leaving. Give me the keys. I’ll walk to the next state.”

Julia grabbed your wrist. “No. Screw him. Let’s get drunk. Start a pit. Snap a few bones for fun!”

Then Erik stood too, voice low, smirk deadly.

“Or…”

You raised an eyebrow. “Or?”

He leaned in. “We pretend we’re together. You sit on my lap. We kiss. He combusts. I win. You win. Everyone else loses.”

“Why would you enjoy it?”

“I’ve been dying to shut you up with my mouth since sophomore year.”

Your brain said no. Your body? Already glitching.

Your knees? Compromised.

You glared. “That’s evil.”

He grinned, stepping closer. “And hot.”

You took a breath. “Fine. But if you do anything weird, I will kill you with a glow stick.”

He leaned into your ear, voice pure sin.

“Peach, I invented weird.”

Ten Minutes Later

You were in Erik’s lap.

His arms wrapped around your waist.

His hand? Under your skirt, just resting on your thigh. Just enough to drive you crazy without doing anything explicitly illegal.

“This is… disturbingly comfy,” you admitted.

“You’re welcome. I make a great emo couch.”

“You’re also warm. I might keep you.”

He tensed. Just barely. Then squeezed your hip.

“Careful, sweetheart. I might not let you go.”

Your heart betrayed you.

Then- here came Brad. Like a walking red flag and discount cologne.

He looked over.

You smiled.

Erik leaned in, lips brushing your neck.

“Smile for the cheaters,” he whispered.

You ground down just enough to make him hiss.

“You’re playing with fire, Peach.”

You looked back, eyes glowing with mischief.

“Then burn with me.”

Suddenly: “FOO FIGHTERS, BABY! LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO!” Julia screamed, sprinting toward the stage like her taxes depended on it.

Erik helped you down, and you laced your fingers through his.

Then, without thinking, you grabbed his hand and wrapped it around your waist as you walked.

“What’s this?” he murmured, smirking against your temple.

“Just wanted you to hold me,” you mumbled. Vodka was 80% of your blood. Truths were leaking.

Erik rubbed his jaw like it physically pained him. “Jesus, Peach. You’re drunk. And you’re killing me.”

You giggled. “I am drunk. But don’t die. I want to kiss you before you turn into a ghost.”

His grip on you tightened.

“Peach…”

You turned to him. “Yeah?”

He looked at you like he wanted to kiss you and start a fire at the same time.

“You better mean it. Because if I kiss you… it’s not fake anymore.”

You smiled.

Twenty minutes later, you were tipsy off vodka slushies and Erik’s smug hand on your waist.

The music was thunder. The crowd? Unhinged. You could feel the bass in your spine. Somewhere, someone was vomiting behind a speaker.

Romance was in the air.

You were pressed up against Erik, half-dancing, half-grinding, fully pretending you weren’t imagining what it would be like to climb him like a jungle gym and scream into his mouth.

“Peach,” he warned, voice in your ear, “if you keep looking at me like that, we are not making it to the end of this set.”

“Good,” you purred, letting your hand trail up under his shirt, just slightly. “Then let’s end it early.”

He visibly malfunctioned. You could practically hear the Windows XP shut-down sound in his brain.

“I hate you.”

“You wish.”

Then-

“BRING ME THE HORIZON’S STARTING, LET’S GO DIE IN A PIT!” Julia screamed, launching herself into the crowd like a goddamn Viking.

You whooped, grabbed Erik’s hand, and pulled him in after her.

Big mistake. Huge.

The Mosh Pit

It was a war zone. Sweat. Boots. Elbows. You got hit in the ribs twice, and you loved it. Someone screamed, someone lost a shoe, someone proposed to their girlfriend mid-breakdown. You lived for it.

Until someone shoved you. Hard.

Your boot caught in the mud. Your body lurched. And before you could hit the ground-

Arms. Around you. Tight. Warm. Familiar.

Erik.

He caught you mid-fall, pulling you flush against his chest like you weighed nothing. The look on his face?

Absolute panic + raging murder boner.

“ARE YOU OKAY? WHO THE FUCK SHOVED YOU?”

“I’m fine,” you gasped, but your knees said liar, and your ribs weren’t vibing either.

Erik scanned the pit like he was about to start swinging. “I will punch someone into the sun.”

“Chill, Campbell.”

“No,” he snapped, grabbing your face in both hands, eyes dark. “You do not get to die in my arms because some punk jackass couldn’t handle the circle pit. You’re mine, got it? If anyone’s going to bruise you, it’s gonna be me. Consensually.”

You blinked. Slowly.

“…That was the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Fuck it,” he muttered, lifting you bridal-style like it was nothing. “You’re done. We’re going back.”

“Erik, I can walk-”

“You limped. I saw it. Don’t argue. I’m turned on and concerned and that’s a terrible combo.”

By the time you got back to the tent, you were buzzed, bruised, and completely feral.

Erik laid you down gently like you were made of glass, then immediately turned into a one-man emergency team. He yanked his hoodie off, shoved it under your head, grabbed a half-used first aid kit from his bag, and muttered to himself like he was about to perform surgery.

“Where does it hurt?” he asked.

“My soul. Also my ribs.”

He huffed out a laugh and lifted your shirt,carefully. You watched his face go from playful to holy shit as he caught sight of the forming bruise.

His fingers brushed it softly.

His jaw clenched.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he murmured, not looking up. “I thought-fuck. I thought I was gonna lose you.”

“You’d miss me?” you teased, even though your heart was hammering like a war drum.

He finally met your gaze. And this time, there was no joke in his voice.

“Peach. I don’t think I’d recover.”

You swallowed.

The tension exploded like a firework at point blank.

One second you were staring at him.

The next?

Mouths. Colliding.

Tongues. Teeth. Desperation. Heat.

He kissed you like he was mad at you. Like he wanted to ruin you and hold you forever all at once.

You moaned into his mouth, pulling him closer, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.

He groaned against your lips. “You sure?”

You nodded, whispering: “Just don’t stop.”

That was all he needed.

He tugged your shirt off, eyes devouring every inch like you were a feast and he was starving.

“God, look at you,” he breathed. “All mine. Finally.”

“Less talking,” you panted. “More ruining me.”

He smirked.

“Brat.”

And then he did exactly that.

You were pinned to the floor of the tent, chest rising, breath ragged.

He hovered above you, hair falling into his eyes, skin flushed and glowing from the adrenaline of the pit and from you. His hands were everywhere. Up your thighs, along your waist, gripping, claiming.

“Say it,” he growled against your neck, voice low and wrecked. “Say you want this.”

You gasped, back arching into him as his mouth sucked just below your collarbone, hard enough to bruise.

“I want this.” You swallowed, voice shaking. “I want you.”

That did it.

He crushed his mouth to yours with the kind of heat that short-circuited your brain. Tongues tangled, teeth clashed. His hands slid under your shirt,greedy, like he couldn’t decide what to touch first. The feel of him pressed between your legs had you melting.

You rolled your hips up into him, and he growled.

“God, Peach…” His lips traced fire down your throat. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

“You first,” you breathed, dragging his shirt up and over his head. He helped, then dove right back in, hands skimming your sides like he was memorizing you by feel alone.

You were bare from the waist up in seconds, cool air hitting hot skin, and Erik froze. His eyes roamed every inch of you, jaw clenched like he was holding back a scream.

“You’re not real,” he muttered.

“Then keep touching me until I am.”

He did.

His mouth closed around your nipple and you cried out, fingers fisting in his hair, dragging him closer. His free hand slid between your thighs, over your underwear, pressing just enough to make your legs shake.

He kissed his way up your chest, lips swollen, voice wrecked. “You’re so fucking wet.”

You moaned, hips lifting.

He smirked. “All for me?”

“Only for you.”

And then,he moved his hand.

Slow. Firm. Torturous.

You bit your lip, trying to stay quiet, but he just chuckled darkly.

“Don’t hold back now, baby.” His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear. “I wanna hear how badly you need me.”

You whimpered, nails dragging down his back as he leaned in, voice dark and delicious in your ear.

“I’ve waited years for this, Peach. I’m not stopping until you forget your name.”

He kissed you again, slower this time. Deeper. The kind of kiss that made your body melt, made your legs fall open, made you want to cry.

Your bodies ground together in a rhythm that felt filthy and perfect, a desperate.

Clothes disappeared. Hands roamed. Skin on skin, breathless and begging.

“Please,” you whispered, voice breaking. “Erik, please-”

He pulled back, eyes black with want.

“Anything you want,” he said, voice hoarse. “I’m yours.”

“I’m never letting you into a mosh pit again,” he growled, dragging his fingers down your thigh where a scrape still stung.

“I’m never wearing a bra again.”

He blinked.“God bless.”

You smirked and pressed into his hand like the brat you were,already warm, already soaked from adrenaline and the way his voice rasped when he was pissed and turned on at the same time.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice full of danger. “All needy and whiny. My little brat.”

And then,zip.

Your eyes dropped.

Holy shit.

Pierced. Leaking. Ready to ruin you.

Your lips parted involuntarily.

“Someone’s excited to meet me,” you purred, with innocence while inching closer .

“Count your blessings, sweetheart.” He grinned darkly.

Before you could say anything back, he slid into you in one brutal, perfect thrust,no warning, no mercy. You bit down on a gasp, but he was already there, covering your mouth with his, swallowing every moan like it was his favorite song.

And it was. You could feel it. The way he moved. The way his hands gripped your waist like a lifeline. The way his tongue tangled with yours like it was personal.

“Fuck, Peach,” he groaned against your lips. “You feel like you were made for me.”

One hand found your breasts ,thumb brushing your nipple until your back arched like a string had snapped inside you.

“This tent is too damn small-” he grunted.

You barely got the words out: “Then let me ride you.”

That flipped a switch.

In one slick, filthy motion, he rolled and pulled you onto him, guiding your hips like he was building a symphony from chaos.

You settled over him, breath caught in your throat as his piercing brushed that sweet, unbearable spot deep inside you.

“Please guide me,” you whispered, already shaking.

His eyes were black with hunger as he took your hips in both hands and slammed you down, making you cry out.

“Always, baby. I got you.”

And he did. Every bounce. Every drag. Every time your thighs quivered and your moans turned breathless, he was right there, helping you fall apart and loving every second.

“You’re a fuckin’ angel, Peach,” he said through gritted teeth, voice rumbling against your ribs like thunder. “So pretty, so loud for me-keep goin’, I wanna feel you fall apart.”

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak.

You just moved.

Riding that high with his fingers digging in, his mouth back on your throat, his breath hot against your shoulder, whispering filth you didn’t have the brain cells left to process.

Until it hit.

That snap. That white-hot, stars-exploding, everything-blurring release.

You collapsed against him, shaking, babbling something like his name and a curse and maybe a love confession.

And Erik-sweaty, gorgeous, wrecked,wrapped his arms around you like you were made of glass and buried his face in your neck as he followed, cursing against your skin.

Silence.

Then:

“I think I saw God,” you mumbled.

Erik laughed,that deep, post-orgasmic wheeze of a man who knows he did that.

“If God’s in this tent, we’re both going to hell.”

You didn’t care.

You were in his lap. Still full of him. And the world could wait.

Because for once, you didn’t feel broken.

You just felt his.

You woke up to the smell of sweat, sex, and the faint scent of Julia’s anxiety coffee wafting in from outside the tent.

Your legs were jelly. Your throat was wrecked. Your body?

Fully used. Thoroughly destroyed. Proudly ruined.

You shifted slightly and winced.

“Fuck,” you muttered, flopping back onto the sleeping bag like your bones were made of mashed potatoes. “He actually broke me.”

A voice, dangerously smug, purred beside you:

“That’s what happens when you tell me to go crazy, sweetheart.”

You whipped your head toward Erik, who was lying on his side like a smug little slut .Bedhead. Hickey-covered chest. That damn piercing catching the light. Still naked.

And grinning like the devil just gave him a participation trophy .

“I should slap you.”

He reached over and trailed his fingers down your bare stomach. “You did. Repeatedly. Pretty sure you left claw marks on my back too.”

You flushed.

“…You deserved them.”

“You moaned my name like a prayer and then cried after the third—”

“ERIK.”

He smirked. “You started it, Peach.”

You groaned and shoved your face into the hoodie he’d thrown over you sometime during the night. It still smelled like him. Sin. Laundry soap. Regret. Lust. Possibly weed.

Then, the sound that could strike fear into your horny little heart:

“I KNOW YOU’RE AWAKE, SLUTS!”

Julia.

“IF THAT TENT SMELLS LIKE REGRET AND CUM, I’M BURNING IT.”

You choked on your own oxygen.

Erik grinned. “She’s so supportive.”

You shoved his face into a pillow.

Outside, Julia continued:

“I BOUGHT DONUTS AND THREE TYPES OF GATORADE. BUT NO ONE GETS ANY UNTIL I GET DETAILS. AND YES, I’M YELLING. BECAUSE YOU BUTT DIALED ME AGAIN AND I HEARD EVERYTHING.”

You buried yourself deeper in the hoodie. “I’m never showing my face again.”

Erik sat up and stretched,like a cat who just knocked everything off your emotional shelf.

“You sure you’re gonna be able to walk?”

You glared at him. “If I limp, I’m telling everyone you punched me.”

“You screamed my name loud enough, babe. No one’s gonna believe that.”

You threw a boot at his head.

You eventually emerged wearing his hoodie (because yours had mysteriously vanished), his hickeys, and the haunting realization that your knees were still shaking.

Julia handed you a donut and a coffee with a grin.

“You got railed so hard the rats left the campsite out of respect.”

Erik, unbothered and half-dressed, just sipped his Gatorade like a post-sex Olympic gold medalist.

Brad and TikTok Barbie walked past at the worst possible moment.

You locked eyes with your ex.

Erik stood, walked over, and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind like he had every right to. And he did.

“Morning, Brad,” he said cheerfully. “Peach couldn’t walk this morning. I take full responsibility.”

You blinked.

Barbie gasped.

Brad’s jaw clenched so hard it could’ve snapped.

Julia whispered, “Ten outta ten. Emmy-worthy.”

You turned, grabbed Erik by the shirt, and pulled him down for a kiss that was all tongue, bite, and I dare you to look away.

When you pulled back, Erik looked dazed.

“I’m keeping you,” he muttered.

“You better,” you whispered, voice low.

Brad stormed off.

Julia did a backflip emotionally.

And you? You leaned into Erik, bruised and aching and alive in a way you hadn’t felt in years.

“Same tent tonight?” he asked, voice in your ear, already smug again.

You grinned.

“Only if you promise to break me again.”

[runningincircl3s]

Who Are You?

Kickboxer!Noah x Reader

Chapter Five

chapter warnings: i don't want to spoil anything but i think it's important for me to mention reader does NOT have an eating disorder!! she's just anxious!! a little nsfw? just a comment from matt tho!! i put too much of myself into reader

masterlist ♡ can i just say thank you sooo much for the love on this fic already it's actually crazy??? the idea for this has been on my mind for months (not to expose myself here but it's been my bedtime scenario to help me sleep for so long lmao) so i'm just happy that i can sit here and giggle and kick my feet whilst i write this and people can feel the same when they read it!! :)

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Minutes ago...

“You're sure this is a good idea?” Kylie asked, her heels tapping quickly against the hallway floor as she attempted to keep up with James' pace- but right now he was a man on a mission, and he was not slowing down for anyone.

“Of course!" He grinned, turning to face her, "Worst case, we say we forgot she had plans. Best case?” He smirked, “We catch them being horny and weird, and we get to make fun of her forever!”

Kylie stopped in front of the door and fished around in her bag for her spare key, whilst James pressed his ear up against the door, listening.

“I can hear something. Are they... laughing?” His brows furrowed as he waved a hand for Kylie to join him.

“Probably-“

THUMP

“What was that?” James gasped, wide eyed.

Kylie grinned and shoved the key into the lock

“Let’s find out.”

The door slowly creaked open.

Kylie stepped in first and immediately froze. James bumped into her shoulder as he followed behind.

“What-“

And then he froze too...

Because on the couch, front and centre stage, barely five feet away from them, was you and Noah.

Or you straddling Noah, his hand on your hips, your forehead against his shoulder.

James blinked, before turning to Kylie to whisper.

“Are they-“

“OH MY GOD,” Kylie shrieked, not bothering to keep quiet as she sounded somewhere in between thrilled and horrified. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

You yelped, recoiling like you’d been caught stealing candy.

“KYLIE?!”

Noah groaned under his breath, already covering his face with one hand like he’d foreseen this exact scenario in a nightmare.

James stared, wide eyed in stunned silence, and then calmly said.

“Are you… dry humping him on the couch?”

You scrambled upright, bashing your leg into the coffee table in your rush to escape.

“OW FUCK! No! I- we were sparring!”

“Are you sure?” Kylie asked sweetly. “Because it kinda looked like you were trying to fuck him into the upholstery.”

“Jesus Christ.” Noah mumbled under his breath as he sat up.

“Your form was solid, though." James said as he took a step forward, "Good hips.” He nodded, his hand stroking his chin as if he were a judge on a TV show, "Only thing I'd say you could improve on is-"

“JAMES,” you shrieked. “GET OUT!! BOTH OF YOU!!!”

They both giggled as they backed out of the door. You rushed to slam it shut behind them, making it rattle in its frame.

And for a minute, all you could do was stand there, your back to the room, hand still on the door handle.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even look at him.

You’d never wanted the floor to swallow you more in your entire life.

You had just been on top of him in front of your best friends.

Oh god. You were never going to hear the end of this.

You thought you should say something to Noah, though you weren't entirely sure what you should say in a situation like this. So, you swallowed hard, your throat burning as you opened your mouth.

“I…” you said, finally turning just enough for him to hear you speak, your eyes still locked firmly on the floor. “You can have a shower if you want. Or… you can just go. It’s fine.”

For a moment, Noah didn’t move. He didn’t say anything.

And you still couldn’t look at him.

Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you could barely hear how suffocating the silence actually was. You tucked your hands into the sleeves of your gym shirt, as if that could help you.

“I’m really sorry,” you said, voice quieter now. “About everything. About them. About… that.”

Still, nothing.

You peeked up at him for the briefest second.

He was sitting exactly as you’d left him, on the edge of the couch, head in his hands, forearms resting on his knees. His brows were drawn tight, his lips pressed into a line, eyes fixed somewhere on the carpet, far away. He looked like he was thinking too hard.

And then he got up. He quickly threw his hoodie on and grabbed his gym bag.

“Save it. I’m the one who should be sorry.” He mumbled as he passed you on the way to the door.

He didn’t look your way once. He just reached for the handle with no hesitation.

And left.

…

You didn’t text him all week, and he didn’t text you either.

Not that you expected him to, he looked pretty pissed when he left and that only made you feel more awful about it all. You made him uncomfortable, and now you were afriad he would never talk to you again- because this time he actually had a valid reason.

Every time you unlocked your phone, you thought about texting him. But you didn't know what to say... Hey, its me, sorry! or Did I ruin everything? or Sorry you had to push me off your lap in front of my best friends, still up for class on Tuesday?

A few days later, your friends came over to make up for that night. But they noticed you weren't yourself, and they admitted to feeling guilty about it, but you reassured them it had nothing to do with them, and everything to do with you.

“Has he texted you yet?” Kylie asked gently as she handed you a cup of tea, as if she didn’t already know the answer. You couldn't even look at the tea. It reminded you of him. How he had let you try his, how he had paid for you at the café, how you had screwed everything up before it could even start.

You shook your head, placing the mug down onto the table before curling deeper into the blanket cocoon you’d wrapped around yourself on the couch.

“Nope.”

“Are you going to text him?”

“Nope.”

She gave you a look, crossing her arms as she stood above you.

“Babe.”

“I can’t,” you groaned. “What if he thinks I’m still trying to... I don’t know, hump him on the couch again?!”

James popped his head in from the kitchen, a spoon hanging out of his mouth.

"I'm sure he'd happily accept, did you see the look on his face? I thought he was about to-"

“JAMES!”

“I’m just saying." He shrugged, a grin creeping up on his face, "I'm sure he'd love for you to "fall" on top of him again.”

“Don’t listen to him.” Kylie rolled her eyes as she sat down on the couch beside you.

You groaned and buried your face in the blanket.

“I’m going to cancel my gym membership. I'm never showing my face there again.”

“No,” Kylie said firmly. “You’re not.”

You peeked at her through a little slit in the blanket.

“You can’t stop me!”

“I can,” she replied, tugging the blanket away from your face, “And I will. You love that gym, and you love kickboxing. You finally found something you enjoy and you’re good at, and you’re going to throw it away because you dry humped your hot trainer on a Tuesday?”

“I didn’t-”

“You did.” James called from the kitchen. “And it was hot!”

“Shut up, James!”

Kylie leaned in, lowering her voice.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Neither did he. You tripped and things escalated from there. And I thought you said he was the one who encouraged you to move... on him."

"I thought so, but what if I was wrong? He kept telling me not to move, even when I was trying to get off of him but then that happened... And then you guys walked in. You weren't even supposed to be coming, and I told him that! I'm just worried I made him mad, he couldn't even look at me before he left."

“Babe,” Kylie said gently, “Noah’s not mad. He probably left because he panicked, not because he didn’t like it.”

"So why hasn't he texted me?"

"Why haven't you texted him?"

You stayed quiet, chewing your lip.

“You’re not cancelling your gym membership,” she said again. “You’re going to go to the next class like a grown up and face it. And if he acts weird, then he’s the problem. Not you.”

You stayed buried in the blanket, but your voice was soft when it came out.

“…Will you walk me there?”

“Of course.” Kylie smiled.

...

You’d been anxious all day. You didn't sleep the night before, you couldn’t eat, you couldn’t focus at work. You couldn’t stop thinking about that damn night, and regretting every moment of it.

Your apartment was a mess, responsibilities you've ignored over the last few days were piling up, both clean and dirty laundry piled on the dining table, dishes filled the sink, but all you’d done for the last hour was sit on the edge of your bed, staring at the hand wraps Noah let you borrow last week. The ones you didn't get a chance to give back before he left.

You had taken better care of them than you had yourself for the last few days, you googled if they needed washing, what to use and how to clean them correctly, what's the right way to dry them...

Now, they sat in your lap like they weighed a hundred pounds.

You told yourself that if things went wrong tonight, if he glared at you from across the room, if he ignored you, acted like he hated you, then you were simply only there to return them to him. You'd hand them back. Say thanks. Leave. Cancel your gym membership. Move across the planet.

It was barely a plan. But it was the only thing holding you together right now.

A sudden knock at the door made you flinch, pulling you back from your thoughts as you tossed the wraps down onto your bed and made your way across you apartment to open it.

You could already hear James' voice from the other side of the door. And as you slowly pulled it open, you were met with two overly happy best friends.

Kylie was leaning against the doorframe behind him, arms folded, and James was stood directly in front of you, holding two coffees, you already knew one would be used as some kind of bribe.

“You ready?” Kylie asked, noticing how you were already in your gym clothes.

“Absolutely not.” You shook your head, but just as you were about to shut the door on them, something got in your way.

It was James' arm. Holding out a coffee.

“Drink this, put some shoes on and grab your bag.”

...

You barely spoke on the way out of your apartment, because you still weren't sure this was a good idea. The walk to the gym was barely even five minutes, but it was long enough to feel your life flash before your eyes.

James continued to sip his coffee, oblivious to your meltdown, whereas Kylie kept glancing over at you- probably to check up on you, though you thought she was making sure you hadn't ran away in the time it took her to push the main door open.

You took a deep breath as you stopped at the curb opposite the gym. It felt like you hadn't been here in years, when only two weeks had passed.

“I can’t go in." You whispered, shrinking into your hoodie like it might shield you.

“You can,” Kylie said, looping her arm through yours. “And you will.”

“What if he ignores me?”

“Then he's an asshole and he doesn't deserve you." She said simply, already steering you toward the crossing.

The light turned green, but you didn't budge.

“Come on.” Kylie tugged your arm.

“I’ll throw up!”

“You won’t.”

“I’ll cry!”

“You might. But that's okay.”

Your feet stayed rooted.

“Kylie-”

Kylie gave James a nod, and he quickly grabbed your other arm, coffee still in hand, and the two of them physically dragged you across the street.

“KYLIE. JAMES. STOP!!”

“Relax,” James waved his hand. “No one even knows what you did. Except us. And Noah. And the couch. And maybe even Aaron, depending on where you hid him.”

You groaned, the building was growing closer with every forced step.

The doors were right there now. Right in front of you.

You knew you had to do this, because what's the worst that could happen? Your life would go back to the way it was 6 months ago, and Noah would find a new girl to teach, to tease, to hold-

That was all the motivation you needed. Suddenly, you feet were moving before you could even attempt to stop, and you had made it into the gym.

As the glass doors slid shut behind you, you turned back to your friends, giving them an unsure wave.

But, as you reached the door to the usual room, you hesitated.

You peeked through the glass panel on the door, just to see if he was there- and yep! You spotted him immediately.

He was across the room, standing in his usual spot, your usual spot, but he was laughing with two guys you didn’t really recognise. They’ve never been here before. Noah looked genuinely happy, like he didn't have a care in the world, and you don't know why that stung the way it did.

Your fingers tightened around the strap of your gym bag, wondering whether or not to leave. You could slip out and nobody would notice. Noah certainly didn't look like he was bothered by your absence.

But you couldn't leave. Not with his hand wraps in your pocket. Or else you’d be reminded of him every time you saw them in your drawer of shame, along with your crochet hooks and acrylic nail kits, and other items from hobbies you had given up on a long time ago.

You swallowed hard, forcing your legs to move, forcing your arms to reach out just enough to push the door open.

Your shoes tapped lightly against the floor as you crossed the room, weaving between bodies, keeping your eyes on him.

You felt more nauseous with every step, and as soon as he was in arms reach, you felt a little light headed, like you might pass out.

You took a breath, barely holding it together as you reached him. You tapped his arm gently, his skin warm under your cold fingertips.

“Noah?” Your voice came out small, a little unsure, but he quickly turned to face you. “Can we… talk?”

For a second, he looked like he wasn’t sure what to say... but before he could answer, Tasha's voice rang across the gym.

“Alright everyone, warm up time! Partners or solo, let’s go!”

Your heart sank. But Noah gave a small, apologetic tilt of his head, offering you a softer look this time, one that was more familiar, more him.

“After class,” he promised quietly. “I’ll find you.”

You barely had time to nod before he was tugged away by one of his friends, the one with the beard and darker hair, leaving you alone.

Great!

With a sigh, you shrugged off your hoodie and dropped your bag by your usual spot on the bench. After a quick sip of water, you began to stretch near the edge of the mats. Everyone else had already partnered up, pairs sprawled across the room, laughing, bouncing lightly on their feet, and there you were. Alone.

You bent to fix your shoes, fiddling with the laces, when a voice spoke beside you.

“You wanna partner up?”

You glanced up.

One of Noah's friends, the one with the slight baby face, smiled at you. His hair was dirty blonde, and you noticed how one of his arms was completely covered in tattoos, matching the one fully covered leg.

"Sure!" You straightened, blinking.

With a kind smile, he held out a hand.

“I'm Matt.”

...

You swiped the back of your wrist across your forehead, the warm up had been a little more intense today, and you already felt a little sticky with sweat.

You had been trying your best to ignore Noah, and it had been working so far. You hadn't glanced his way once, and every time you could hear his voice, you blocked it out- or tried to at least.

But now you needed a drink. You wandered over to the where you left your bottle and took a sip before leaning against the wall to catch your breath. That’s when you noticed Matt struggling to wrap his hands. You spotted how one hand was wrapped too loose, and the other was looking like a tangled shoelace.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped out, and Matt’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as you approached, still smiling to yourself.

“Need some help?” You asked, already reaching for the wrap.

Matt made a face, you couldn’t tell if he was somewhat amused or offended.

“It’s harder than it looks, alright.” He said, watching your hands.

You chuckled under your breath, gently taking his left hand, fingers brushing his wrist as you started unravelling the mess.

“You’ve got them a little twisted,” you explained, smoothing the fabric out. “You’ll cut your circulation off if they’re like that.”

“You seem to know what you’re doing.” He pointed out.

You shrugged, carefully looping the wrap across his knuckles, the way Noah had shown you a dozen times now.

You were even slightly surprised you knew what you were doing. But Noah didn’t have to know you knew how to do it, you liked the way he did it for you.

“I had a good teacher.”

Matt thought nothing of it at first, and you finished wrapping his hands. You let yourself glance over at Noah now, just the once, and you kinda wished you didn't. He had just slipped his black gloves on, his chest was still rising and falling pretty quickly from the warm ups, and he was grinning at whoever his other friend was. His hair had fallen over his eyes a little, his biceps looked a little too biteable-

"I think we should spar," Matt said, making you flinch as he pulled you out of your Noah induced daze, "But you'll have to go easy on me, I'm still pretty new at this."

"Yeah," you nodded, your pulse still racing, your cheeks still slightly hot from looking at the guy across the room, "We should."

You both slipped on a pair of gloves, and then you looked at Matt... You tilted your head, giving him an unimpressed once over. His stance was okay, but his feet were too wide apart, shoulders too tight. You knew it wasn’t going to work.

“You’re gonna fall like that.” You pointed out, stepping closer before he could argue.

Matt’s brows lifted, but he didn’t argue as you nudged at his foot with yours to adjust his position.

He stayed perfectly still, watching you with amused eyes as your hand skimmed down his arm, gently repositioning his elbow and wrist.

“Getting real hands on already,” he murmured, grin widening. “If I’d known you were this friendly, I’d have showed up sooner.”

You laughed softly, giving his shoulder a quick push to test his balance.

“If you showed up sooner I probably wouldn’t have had to correct you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckled, rolling his neck, “Show me what you got!”

And you did exactly that.

You both sparred for a while, dodging each others moves, laughing as you kept him on his toes. It was clear he wasn’t expecting you to be so good at this, and in all honesty neither were you. You dodged nearly every hit he threw, slipping just out of range, each time his frustration growing more obvious.

“Okay…” Matt exhaled, shaking his head as you ducked another jab, your grin only growing. “You’re way better than I thought.”

“Like I said, I had a good teacher.” You shrugged, your gaze meeting Noah's for just a moment.

Matt’s eyes shot across the room for the briefest second, then, a knowing smirk crawled across his lips.

“Oh… you’re that y/n,” he muttered, stepping forward faintly, “Yeah… Noah always talks about you.”

“He does?” You raised an eyebrow.

Matt didn’t reply right away, he continued to move, forcing you to follow. His grin widened, cocky now.

“All the time… y’know he never really cared too much about the gym before, but now he makes sure he doesn’t miss this class if he can help it. He said he trains with a pretty girl…” His voice dropped to a more teasing tone. “But you should hear him when he gets home… we’ve got paper thin walls.”

He let the words hang, a slow smirk spreading across his face as he watched your guard slowly drop before he continued.

“Your names real familiar by now, I thought I was just hearing things the first few nights,” he added. “Turns out, he’s not exactly quiet when he’s thinking about you.”

Your breath hitched, heart picking up speed. Matt’s grin only widened as he dodged your wobbly jab effortlessly.

“Yeah… one sleepless night was all it took for me to figure out what kind of ‘training’ goes on in his head,” he said. “Can’t unhear it now.”

Before you could respond, he made a move since your guard was down. It was just a quick kick that caught your side, but it knocked you off balance. You stumbled, laughing as you landed hard on your ass.

Matt grinned down at you.

“Gotcha!”

“You asshole!” You chuckled, reaching out for his hand as he offered to help you up.

But just as you made it back to your feet, you heard his voice.

“Swap with me.” It wasn’t a question, Noah was already tugging his gloves off.

“Noah?" Your brows furrowed.

“Dude, I didn’t mean to-“

“Don’t care. You’re with Davis now.” He said, already taking Matts place on the mat.

Matt rolled his eyes, but seemingly knew better than to fight.

“Fine, fine!” He sighed, giving you a small smile and a gentle wave as he wandered off.

“Are you okay?” Noah asked, his voice laced with panic as he turned his attention back to you. “That looked like it hurt.”

“Noah, I’m fine. Really. He didn’t knock me down, I slipped… You know what I’m like.”

“But he caught you off guard, he shouldn’t have done that.”

He was right. He did catch you off guard…

One sleepless night was all it took for me to figure out what kind of ‘training’ goes on in his head…

“C’mon, let’s take a break.” Noah nodded towards the benches by the side of the mat.

You didn’t fight him. Mostly because your lower back was already starting to throb from where you hit the floor, and the adrenaline was wearing off quick.

The second you sat down, you winced. You shifted a little, but it was enough for Noah to notice, his brows furrowing immediately.

“Where?”

“Where what?” You blinked.

“Where does it hurt?” His tone left no room for argument, his gaze sweeping over you like he was assessing every inch for damage.

“It’s nothing.” You tried to say, but he was already crouching in front of you, his hands- still wrapped but he had ditched the gloves now- were resting lightly on your knees, waiting for permission to check.

He tilted his head, eyes softer now as he said it again.

"Tell me where it hurts."

Your cheeks flushed.

"Just... near the bottom of my back."

“That’s what I thought.” He said, stepping over the bench so he could get behind you. His thumb carefully brushed the hem of your shirt, “Lift this a little?”

You swallowed, fingers trembling slightly as you pulled your shirt up. His thumb gently dipped beneath the waistband of your leggings, moving them down just the slightest bit, just enough for him to see the faint mark blooming across your skin.

His jaw flexed. His thumb traced the space just beside the bruise, never on it, never pressing.

“He shouldn’t have done that.” Noah muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you as he stepped back over the bench.

“It was my fault, I wasn't paying attention-”

“No, it wasn’t.” He said, crouching down to your level. “You don’t blame yourself for that.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you settled for a weak smile.

“Stay here,” he said, standing. “I’ll grab some more water.”

When Noah returned with two bottles of water, sitting beside you on the bench, something had changed. Now that you weren’t on the floor in pain, you had both remembered.

He handed you the bottle, but neither of you spoke.

You both sat there in silence, you were thinking of how to word what you wanted to say, and so was he. In all the weeks of coming to the gym and seeing Noah, nothing had ever felt as awkward as it did right now. Not even the time you misjudged and kicked him in the balls.

It was just too quiet.

You fiddled with the bottle cap, twisting it open and taking a sip just to avoid saying what you knew was coming. Noah ran a hand through his hair, his own bottle untouched.

Then, finally, when you both spoke at once.

“So about last week-”

“I should probably explain-”

You both cut off, blinking at each other, the corner of his mouth lifting with a little awkward grin.

“Sorry." You mumbled, laughing under your breath.

“No, you first.” He offered, voice lower and quieter than usual- nervous perhaps, though he hid it pretty well.

You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek before glancing at him.

“I… thought you were avoiding me.”

“I thought you were avoiding me.” He said, his eyebrows raised in surprise, and a little amusement.

You breathed a soft laugh, fiddling with the thumb hole in your sleeve.

“I wasn’t. I was just… embarrassed, and I thought you wouldn't want to talk to me again.”

He tilted his head slightly.

“Why?”

“Because…” You looked away, staring down at the bottle in your hands, thumb running over the ridges of the plastic. “Because my friends barged in, and it was embarrassing for me. And I thought it was for you too, and then you couldn't even look at me afterwards... I thought I made you mad."

Noah stayed quiet for a second, his gaze fixed on you, though you were still looking down at your bottle. After a moment, you heard him exhale softly, like he was trying to ease something off his chest.

“You didn’t make me mad,” he said, his voice gentle, "Not at all."

You peeked up at him. His brows furrowed a little as he sat back, water bottle resting loose in his hands.

“I couldn’t look at you,” he admitted, the faintest edge of embarrassment touching his tone, “Because I thought I messed it up.”

"Messed what up?” You frowned.

“That night,” he said, gaze dropping to the ground for a second before meeting yours again. “I should’ve asked before I touched you like that. I wasn’t thinking straight… And when they walked in, I saw your face, I thought... I thought I pushed you too far. You looked… I don’t know. Scared. Like you regretted it.”

“Noah,” you whispered, shaking your head quickly, “I wasn’t scared. And I didn’t regret it.”

He didn’t answer right away, but the tension in his shoulders eased a little, though hus eyes searched yours like he wasn’t sure if he could believe you yet.

“I didn’t stop you,” you added softly, the words barely above a whisper, "Because I wanted it too."

Noah was quiet for a moment, like he was taking your words in. Then, with a little nod of his head, he hummed.

“Okay,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Well, I'm glad we're both idiots.”

You laughed at that, nodding your head as you felt the weight on your chest finally lift for the first time in days.

"We are."

Now, the silence between you felt comfortable. You sighed contently, like you could finally breathe.

However, the silence didn't last for long. Because your stomach decided now was the perfect time to let out a long, humiliating growl!

grrrrrhrggghhhg

Your eyes widened in horror, and you felt your cheeks heat in embarrassment. Noah’s brows raised slightly.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, his voice soft as his eyes met yours again.

You opened your mouth to deny it on instinct, but his head tilted knowingly, cutting you off before you could speak.

“Don’t lie,” he murmured, eyes narrowing in playful warning. “I’ve been watching you. You've not been yourself, your hands are shaky and you let Matt knock you on your ass… how long’s it been since you ate?”

"Last night," you confessed, fiddling with your bottle again, "I've felt too sick, too nervous to eat all day. I've been worrying about seeing you, I was worried you wouldn't want to talk to me."

“Hey,” he said gently, his voice softening. “I told you… I’m the idiot who thought you wouldn’t wanna talk to me.”

Your lips parted like you wanted to say something, but you couldn’t.

Noah exhaled softly, eyes still steady on yours before he leaned down, reaching for his gym bag beside the bench. After a moment of rummaging, he pulled out a protein bar, the wrapper slightly crumpled but still intact.

"This is all I've got," he said, sounding almost a little disappointed , like he genuinely wished he could pull a full meal out of his gym bag for you, "I guess it's better than nothing."

You smiled faintly, your nerves unraveling just enough to let a breathier laugh slip out.

“It’s fine,” you murmured, reaching for it, “Thank y-”

But before your fingers could brush the wrapper, he held it just out of reach, brow raised, the corner of his mouth curving ever so slightly.

“Only if you let me take you to dinner after class." He bargained softly, "Wherever you want."

My bed?

Your lips parted, eyes darting between his and the protein bar like you were considering the terms of a contract.

“It doesn’t have to be a date,” he added, “I already told the guys I’ll drop them home so I'll do that first... then we’ll get food. Is that okay? You can still have the protein bar if you say no by the way.”

The sincerity in his tone made your heart warm. You nodded once, small but certain, and he finally handed over the bar.

“Good.” He smiled.

You hesitated, eyeing the wrapper suspiciously, then took a cautious bite… and instantly grimaced.

“Oh my god,” you mumbled around the dry, chalky mouthful, “I've had one of these before... and I swore I'd never touch one again!"

Noah chuckled under his breath, stealing the rest from your hand and finishing it off himself with zero hesitation.

"Dunno what you mean, they're delicious!" He teased, though it was clear he was trying not to scrunch his face up.

Despite everything, you smiled, settling back on the bench beside him, shoulders brushing slightly. For the first time all week, you could actually breathe.

"I'd ask if you want to get back on the mats," Noah said, looking over at where you had left your gloves, "But I don't want to risk you passing out on me."

"Wouldn't be my most graceful moment." You laughed softly, nudging his shoulder.

Noah's lips parted, like he was about to say something. Then, his eyes drifted across the room towards his friends. They looked like they were meant to be sparring, but instead they were messing around, seeing who could wrap their arms and legs around a punching bag and stay on for the longest.

"Okay," Noah sighed under his breath, "If they don’t wanna be sensible..." He stood, grabbing both your gym bags without asking, slinging his own over his shoulder. "We’re leaving."

"You sure?" You asked, standing slowly.

"They’re barely training, you nearly fainted, and I promised you food. Let’s go."

You smiled, following him across the mats as he called out to the other two.

"We’re done. Grab your stuff."

Matt groaned dramatically but obeyed, the darker haired one- you heard Noah say his name was Davis- shrugging as they followed on behind you.

You didn’t miss how all three of them were wearing something with the words Bad Omens on it... Noah's shorts had the name printed down the side, Matt had a black hoodie with a design on the back, and Davis wore a tshirt with the name on the front. It could've bene a coincidence, but you've noticed Noah seems to wear a lot of things with that name on...

"What's a Bad Omens?" You asked, eyeing the clothes. "You guys in some sort of cult?"

"You could say that," Davis snorted, "But no, it's a band that we're all... fans of."

"Like... a boyband?" You chuckled, watching Matt's smirk grow even more mischievous.

"Metal band." Davis clarified with a nod of his head.

"Yeah but the lead singer? He's pretty enough to be in one, isn't that right, Noah?"

"I... uh..."

You looked over at him, intrigued.

“You a fan too?”

"Yeah... something like that." Noah said, but thankfully this conversation ended as you reached the car- and now Matt and Davis were arguing over the front seat.

“Hey, you sat in the front on the way here!”

“Yeah only cos you walked!”

“So it should be me-“

“I’m older.”

“It’s Noah’s fucking car!”

"Guys, calm the fuck down," Noah interrupted, unlocking the car with a click. His hand pressed lightly to your lower back as he guided you toward the passenger side. "She’s got the front."

Ignoring the guys groans, you slid into the passenger seat, still hyper aware of the warmth of Noah’s hand as it drifted off your back, his touch lingering on your skin long after it was gone. The door clicked shut beside you, and you stared at the dashboard for a second, completely frozen.

You were in Noah’s car.

Noah’s car.

The inside smelled a little like him, you definitely needed to find out what cologne he uses. His hoodie was on the drivers seat, you assumed he took it off just as he got out earlier. He threw his and your gym back into the back with the guys, where you could hear Matt and Davis still bickering as they piled in behind you, but it all felt muffled compared to the way your pulse thundered in your ears.

You were in Noah’s car.

The guy you only knew as the hot gym guy just months ago!

Breathe. Just breathe.

You shifted awkwardly, gripping your seatbelt with shaky hands, fingers fumbling as you tried to clip it in. Noah slid into the driver’s side, glancing your way, one brow raising faintly as he caught your expression.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice laced with amusement like maybe he already knew exactly why you looked ready to combust.

You forced a little nod, swallowing hard as you clicked the seatbelt into place.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, cheeks burning. “Just… y’know… your car.”

A small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he started the engine.

“Yeah, you like it?” He teased.

...

After dropping the guys off, the car was noticeably quieter... You sat in the passenger seat, picking at your nails as Noah pulled away from the curb.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just one hand on the wheel, the other relaxed on the gear stick. The radio played quietly, which you were thankful for, glad you weren't sat together in complete silence.

“Where d’you wanna go?” He asked, glancing over at you. You were a little surprised at how gentle his voice was.

You opened your mouth, but your brain faltered. You couldn’t think. The nerves from earlier were still sat in your chest, and being in his car next to him wasn't exactly helping. You weren’t even sure what you felt like eating.

“I…” you hesitated, shaking your head with a small shrug of your shoulders. “I dunno.”

Noah’s eyes were back on the road, but his lips curved into a small smile.

“That’s alright,” he replied, steering easily through the traffic. “I’ve got somewhere in mind... It’s nothing fancy. Just somewhere I like to go when I’m home.”

When I'm home.

You frowned slightly, because that's not the first time he had said that. Where else would he go? You already guessed he travelled a lot for work, so just assumed he meant that, and you nodded.

“Okay.”

The ride wasn’t long. Maybe five, ten minutes tops. But it felt longer with how aware you were of him, and how close he was- as if you weren't sat on top of him last week.

Eventually, he pulled into a small parking lot beside a little building with soft lighting spilling from the windows. It wasn’t what you expected, though you didn't even know what you were expecting.

The place was small, but it was inviting. It looked cozy from the outside, and that was confirmed as you followed him in. The lighting was warm, the sound of chatter and laughter filled the air, along with the smell of food, which made your stomach grumble once again.

The waiter by the door didn’t even ask for a name. Just a nod at Noah, like they knew him well, and you were led to a booth tucked near the back by a window.

You both sat down, giving the waiter your drinks order before he left.

And now here you were, sat across from Noah at a small, worn in table, menu in hand, eyes darting nervously between the list of food and him.

Noah sat casually, forearms resting on the table as he thumbed through the menu.

You, on the other hand, were barely skimming the options.

It wasn’t even the food. It was him... His presence, the soft look in his eyes, how nervous you suddenly felt around him.

You had felt this way before, but every time you had ever caught feelings for someone, it was never reciprocated- and if it was, it was only an act so they could get in your pants. But here you were, sat across from a guy who genuinely seemed to care about you, and the thought of him possibly feeling the same way as you made your heart do something you couldn't explain.

You hadn't even noticed you'd been staring blankly at the menu, not reading it. You'd been in a world of your own, and you quickly managed to snap yourself out of it and looked at the options.

Cheeseburgers. Fries. Onion rings. Mac and cheese. Double bacon cheeseburgers. It all sounded delicious... if you were sat at home by yourself in front of the tv, but the thought of ordering something like this in front of Noah made you feel a little uneasy.

And, of course, Noah noticed. His gaze lifted, head tilting slightly as he set his menu down.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice startled you slighlty, fingers tightening around the laminated page.

“Nothing!”

He didn’t buy it. His stare didn’t waver, but his expression softened, as did his voice.

“Talk to me.”

Your throat tightened, cheeks warming as you exhaled slowly, admitting under your breath,

“I don’t… know what to get.”

The words barely made it past your lips, but he caught them.

“That’s okay,” he leaned forward a little, his hand resting casually near yours on the table, like he was wanted to touch you but held back. “You’ve never been here before.”

You bit your lip, heart racing embarrassingly fast. Noah let the quiet stretch a moment longer, eyes searching yours before adding gently,

“Would you like me to order for you?”

The softness and sincerity in his voice made it hard to say no. So, despite the feeling in your chest, you nodded your head.

"Okay... yeah."

A small grin spread across his face, subtle but enough for you to notice, and your heart to skip a beat.

The menu stayed in your lap, mostly forgotten about, your fingers fidgeting with the corner as Noah caught the attention of the waiter.

You half expected him to just order his own food twice, but instead he almost listed off the whole menu. Two different burgers. Chicken nuggets. Fries. Onion rings. Even a side of wings, and also requested some different sauces.

You blinked, glancing up at him as the waiter scribbled everything down and walked off.

“That’s… a lot." You almost whispered, your voice quieter than you meant it to be.

Noah leaned back in the booth, casually draping his arm along the backrest, eyes fixed on yours- god he's so fucking hot.

“Yeah.” He nodded, like it was obvious. “No pressure that way, you can have whatever you want.”

You felt like your heart was going to burst with the amount of pure love you felt for this man.

You almost felt yourself begin to tear up- sure, it was just a simple gesture, all he did was order a bunch of things from the menu, but he did it for you. To make sure you had a choice, that there was at least one thing you liked.

“Noah, you didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to.” His eyes softened as he spoke, “Figured it’s easier than stressing over what to order… and before you say you weren’t, I could tell. You always get quiet when you’re overthinking, something I noticed during that first class.”

Your stomach did a silly little flip at that, and you felt heat rush to your cheeks. You looked away, tucking your hands into your lap.

He’d noticed. And instead of blatantly pointing it out, making it worse, he made it easier.

The food didn’t take long to come, and in the time it took you had been telling Noah all about your week, and your asshole of a boss. But then, the table was filled with plates, a basket of fries, burgers stacked high, golden onion rings- it all smelled incredible, and your stomach agreed, growling loudly enough that Noah huffed a soft laugh under his breath.

“See,” he teased, already reaching for one of the burgers, sliding the basket of fries toward you, “It smells good, right?”

You reached for a fry, hesitating a little, but Noah didn’t rush you. He didn’t say anything, just started eating his own food. You nibbled at the fry, glancing up at him across the table.

He caught your gaze and smirked faintly, nodding toward the rest of the food.

“Try this,” he said, not long after, holding half of his burger out toward you, it did look delicious. “It’s good!”

You hesitated again, but he was so patient with you. Your heart fluttred as you leaned forwards, taking a bite. Noah watched you carefully, smirking as you hummed softly in approval.

“Good, right?” He said as he pulled the burger back. “Told you.”

You nodded, still chewing, smiling despite yourself. The nerves didn’t completely vanish, but they eased enough for you to actually eat and enjoy the food, your appetite growing again.

…

You weren’t even sure how it happened, but between the two of you, every plate on the table was empty after about 20 minutes- besides the spicy wings, which you pulled a face at when you tried, and Noah teased you for it. You were comfortably full now, slouched just slightly in your seat, fingers lazily chasing the last few fries in the basket.

Noah watched you, elbows resting on the table, silently taking in how comfortable you looked now compared to earlier. You peeked up, catching the way his lips had curved into a small, warm smile.

“What?” You asked, wiping your hands with a napkin.

“Nothing.” He said with a gentle tilt of his head, his eyes warming as they met yours, along with his heart.

Your brows furrowed, but his smile only grew as he leaned in a little more.

“Just proud of you,” he expressed, voice a little quieter now. “I know you weren’t feeling yourself earlier.”

Your mouth hung open a little, and you didn't trust yourself to speak as you noticed how his words made your tummy feel fuzzy. You wanted him to tell you that again and again and again. You looked up again to meet his eyes, and something in the way he looked at you in this moment settled you more than anything else had all day.

You swallowed gently, tucking your hands beneath the table.

“Thank you.” You whispered, quiet but honest, looking away to try and hide the way your cheeks had turned pink.

A gentle, comfortable silence settled between the two for a quick moment, until Noah leaned back, tossed his napkin onto the plate and glanced toward the door.

“I should probably get you home,” he said. “Before your friends freak out.” Oh yeah. Kylie and James were waiting for you at your place.

“…Shit.” You blinked, laughing under your breath as realisation settled over you. “I didn’t tell them I was going anywhere.”

“What, you just disappeared on them?” Noah chuckled.

“I didn’t think you’d actually take me to get food," you confessed, a little embarrassed, "I thought you were just saying it… just to be nice.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, pushing his chair back as he stood. His large hand came down, palm open in silent offer. You slipped your hand into his, letting him help you up, trying not to think about how perfectly your hand fit in his.

“For the record,” he murmured as you gathered your things, “I never say things I don’t mean. If I say I’ll take care of you…” His eyes met yours with a look that matched the teasing yet serious tone in the way he spoke, “I’ll do it properly.”

You followed him out, Noah’s hand brushed lightly against your lower back as he guided you toward the car, his gentle touch lingering for a moment longer than it probably needed to, like he wasn’t quite ready to let this evening end yet.

“Watch your head.” He said as he opened the passenger door for you.

The simple gesture made your heart warm, like everything else he does, but you slipped in carefully and let him shut the door for you, before he circled around to the drivers side.

The ride started quiet, the two of you still full but comfortable, you could already feel yourself wanting to yawn- it had been a long and rather emotional day.

You glanced his way once, studying his side profile, the line of his jaw, the tattoo on his throat that crept up the side of his neck- his perfect fucking nose that you wished you could reach out and just boop.

You hated how much you wanted him close again. Even if it was just for a moment, and you had spent all week regretting it, but you couldn't stop thinking about how his hands felt on your hips, how warm his bare chest was beneath your fingertips, how hard he was beneath you, and how it felt as he rocked you against him-

Stop. You shook the the thoughts from your head... but just as the horny ones left, the dreaded ones found their way back.

What if you didn't let your friends drag you across the street to the class? What if you only dropped by the class to hand his wraps back to him and leave again without saying a word. Would he have reached out? Or would he have let this- whatever was going on between you- die?

You exhaled quietly, turning your head to look out the window.

“Hey…” His voice gently pulled you from your thoughts, he glanced your way for a second before returning to the road. “You've gone quiet.”

"Sorry... I was thinking."

“Don't do that, you'll give yourself a headache,” he smirked, gently teasing. “No, seriously,” he prompted, voice a little softer now, “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to come up with a lie or an excuse, but knowing Noah, he'd see through you.

"I almost didn't go to the class today. My friends had to physically drag me across the street because I was too scared to face you again... but if I didn't come, what would've happened?"

You noticed the way Noah’s fingers flexed on the wheel as he pulled the car to a slow stop outside your building, not even realising you were here already. He parked up, turning the engine off, before answering.

“What would've happened?” He repeated your question under his breath, eyes fixed ahead for a second like he was thinking it over. “I would’ve gone insane,” he admitted simply, turning his face to meet your eyes. “I spent the whole week thinking I screwed everything up. I was ready to text, I wanted to… but I couldn’t tell if you wanted space, or if you hated me, or…” He exhaled, shaking his head with a quiet laugh, almost at himself. “Guess we both overthink shit.”

"Yeah... well, we don't have to anymore." You said hopefully, meeting his eyes with a soft smile. The kind that made his heart race.

He chuckled under his breath, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before looking away again. You unbuckled your seatbelt slowly, the click loud in the quiet car.

“I’d say come in… but my friends are waiting for me, and I'm already gonna get interrogated tonight, and I'm sure you'd rather not suffer through a million questions too.”

You noticed the way he smiled at the offer, but he also hesitated briefly.

“I’d love to, and I would have done...” he sighed, his voice dropping softer, sounding almost regretful. “But I’ve got a flight to catch in a few hours.”

"What?! A flight?" Your eyes widened.

"Yeah... work stuff." He nodded, running a hand through his hair, ruffling it a little. “It's just for a couple days."

You tilted your head, studying him.

“You’ve got a flight to catch... and you’re out here with me instead?”

That made him chuckle, and he nodded softly.

“Yeah,” he said simply, like it was obvious. “You were more important.”

For a moment, you forgot how to breathe. You were frozen completely still... did he really just say that or was this a dream? Did you pass out in the gym when Matt knocked you down?

Noah just chuckled to himself and opened his door, stepping out. The sound brought you back to earth and you followed him out the car, waiting for him to grab your gym bag from the backseat.

"Want me to walk you up?" He asked, and you answered with a nod.

Slinging your bag over his shoulder, he reached out for your hand, and he held it all the way up to the door of your apartment, his thumb brushing the back of your palm every now and then, as if to remind you this was real.

Once you reached your door, the two of you stilled. The world around you seemed to just melt away as you looked up into his brown eyes, a colour you’ve grown to love.

You really took him in from this angle... the small scars on his face which you guessed had been left behind from piercings, the dark colour of his lashes, the shape of his lips, the little freckle just under his eye... you wanted to reach out, cup his face in your hands, stand on your tip toes and kiss every inch of him.

His eyes dipped to your lips again, lingering for just a second longer than they should’ve. But he didn’t lean in, even when you thought he was going to. Instead, his grip on your hand tightened ever so slighlty, his fingers gently curling higher up your wrist, and then he lifted your hand between you.

You barely managed to swallow the lump in your throat as he pressed his lips to the back of your hand.

His lips were warm and soft against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as his eyes met yours, looking at you through his lashes as he gave you the most gentle, delicate kiss.

It was an innocent gesture, but the way he lingered, the way his eyes locked with yours, made it feel incredibly intimate.

You were surprised your knees didn't give out beneath you. The feeling of his lips alone sent heat to your lower belly but the way he looked up at you through it almost made you whimper

“See you next week?"

You nodded, mouth dry, brain working overtime just to form a sentence... but somehow, something slipped out before you could overthink it.

“Text me… when you land?” you whispered, almost shyly. “Just… so I know you got there safe. Wherever you're going.”

“I will,” he promised quietly, his voice soft and sincere. Then, just as he pulled away, gently letting go of your hand, he whispered, “I'll miss you."

--------------------------------

reading this back i don’t really like this chapter :/ BUT THE NEXT ONE…….

@dragoncopper @renegadebirch @super-btstrash-posts @pipidoll @xslavicprincess @foliosgirl @h4tef6ck @jesuisunchaton @saythatuwill @astronoids @missduffsblog @montgomery-929496 @lonelydragonlady @happyclifford @popularpopularmonster @bluehairpunklol @bruce9818 @itsyaboinoah @mayaslifeinabox @lonesomegrace @dominuslunae @lacy1986 @jesuisunchaton @overmydeadbodysblog @kenjipepsi1 @onlyethereal @theright-wrongway @geminigirlfromfinland @miss570 @trvshdxddy @spookieolson @sugaruapologist @latenightmusiclover @eversiinceny @shuiguans @lyschko666 @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @flowery-mess @pathion @bladeupnred @urafakebetch @mycheersricochet @bloody-spades

[fairlyang]

Naughty Girl

save a horse, ride a cowboy

w/c: 1K

pairing: cowboy!sam!wilson x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. riding, praise, jokes, teasing, titty sucking, he's a lil mean

a/n: this is my first time writing for sam- I’m praying I do my man justice bc he needs more lovin and i'll take one for the team

if there was something sam absolutely hated, it was admitting when he was wrong.

but in this case it was also admitting the fact that he was impressed.

the worst part about this was he didn't actually think you could do it. 

sure he had some faith in you, but that didn't change the fact that he, for the most part, was expecting to hear you begging him to do the all work.

he was pleasantly surprised though.

so he looked at you, amusement in his eyes and a shit eating grin on his face, "guess those lessons did pay off huh?

you playfully rolled your eyes and chuckled, "what you didn't think I could do it?"

"I just didn't expect for you to prove me wrong, sweetheart." he coos and squeezes your hip. 

you grinned and continued bouncing on his cock, somewhat using the skills he's taught you like how to mount a horse, though this was better than riding any horse. 

your hands were on his shoulders, helping your movements because you didn't fully trust yourself. you had been for it for a good amount of time, edging you both in the process but for once you didn't mind it. 

you were in a back room of the saloon, after dancing with your favorite cowboy it had you in a mood so you dragged him away. and as expected, he couldn't dare deny his lady of her needs. 

the music was still playing and all the partygoers were still stomping and dancing about with no clue what you were up to. 

and although anyone could just walk in, it didn't stop you whatsoever. it was a risky game and boy, did you love playing games.

your bounces on him were steady and precise, a decent pace that wouldn't throw you over the edge. the riskiness of it all had your head spinning and had you going faster. 

"fuck baby- keep going, don't stop." he moans, making you moan along with him. 

"sam-" you cry out, and dig your nails into his shoulders.

he groans and leans in closer, bringing his hands to your tits and squeezes them before taking you left nipple in his mouth, harshly sucking. you moaned and the added pleasure had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

"oh fuck- s-so good." you murmur and look down at him, switching nipples then going back to sucking as if his life depended on it.

you held onto his head and moved it upwards, "can you mark them? p-please?"

he pulled away then looked up at you with a smirk, "whatever my girl wants, she gets."

he went back down and instantly sucked on your skin, pulling away for a second to look at his handiwork then went back to it to lick over it soothingly. he then kissed it before moving upwards and repeating the process. 

cut to a minute later and five hickey's placed, he was happy with the results. 

you slowed down because your thighs were growing tired which only had sam shaking his head and clicking his tongue, "nuh uh, what do you think you're doing baby?"

"sam I'm tired-"

"did I say you could slow down?" he asked, making you whimper.

you shook your head and his hands went back to your hips, "then what are you waitin' for?"

you pouted and glared at him not making feel bad whatsoever but it did make him throb inside you. he chuckled and thrusted up once making you gasp, "c'mon be a good girl for me, you can do it baby." 

your walls clenched against him and you couldn't just not listen to him so you folded. you went back to your previous position, hands on his shoulders and your perfect bounces on his cock. you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second and the noises that came with every bounce confirmed it. 

"good girl… see how it's easy to listen to directions?" he teased, making you scoff, "you're one to talk."

he just laughs and shrugs, "you've still got me beat, sweetheart."

you pouted but kept going, feeling too good to stop. "can't forget how much of a brat you were when we met…" he murmured, sending shivers down your spine. 

you straightened up and stuck your ass out, making him shift his attention to it. his hands each smacked a cheek before groping them, helping you slam down, "were such a good girl back then.. secret brat too.."

"what a combination, don't ya think?" he murmured and you just nodded. 

"now all I've got is a naughty girl…" he breathes out, making your breath hitch.

"wantin' to fuck after one dance." he moans earning himself a loud whine from you.

he then stopped you, lifting himself up the tiniest bit, "dirty fucking girl- horny little thing, just can't help it can you baby?"

you whimpered and shook your head, "I can't-"

"I know baby, I know.." he coos and then gives you a grin, "it's what I love most about you."

before you could even respond, he started thrusting himself into you, not giving you any time to get used to it. you cried out and tried to hold onto him, sam noticing and deciding to kiss your chest. you held onto him as he pounded into you, the sounds in the room by some miracle still not as loud as the music. 

he was relentless, feeling himself getting close and wanting to make you get there as well so he went even fast. harder. 

just how you liked it and exactly what you needed.

"sam! fuck baby please–" you cried and sweet moans left your mouth.

"atta girl- doing so fucking good darlin'." he moans then moves his hands back to your hips. 

"need you to come for me baby, can you do that for me?' he cooed and you nodded.

"good girl- such a good fucking girl." he groans, his praise bringing you closer and closer to your release.

you felt him twitching inside you making you grab him and pull him away just to lean your forehead against his, "p-please- fuck- please give it to me, need you so bad."

he moaned out and smashed his lips against yours, now moaning against your lips as he thrusted as deep as he could go. you were whimpering while trying to kiss back which was enough to send you both over the edge. you kissed him back while he spilled his load deep inside you, still attempting to kiss you but it was just a sloppy mess.

he slowed down, riding out your highs while he made sure he gave you every drop he had. your legs were shaking as he pulled away and gave you a kiss on the cheek then on the forehead before finally stopping and holding you close.

he whispered sweet things in your ear as you fought hard to stay awake but he couldn't blame you, holding you in his arms as if he was afraid you'd slip out and never come back but neither of you were leaving. not any time soon or ever.

[gardensinner]

My internal dialogue when watching Maid on netflix: kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him

[mymitochondriaforpresident]

Simon: *being treated with anything less than optimal love, happiness, care, kindness, adoration, protection*

Me: 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

@anonfromtheflight: 🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓

[pride-of-storm]

on the one hand 'i get to put up whatever shower curtain i want' is kind of a stupid hill to die on, but on the other hand i have acknowledged your claim on every other hill i could have picked, so fuckin acknowledge my claim on this one

[thebluebygracieabrams]

.

[punkkture]

need to verbalize my desperate need for mr nonchalant businessman simon

mdni: ddlg , size kink

wc: { 1050 }

he’s busy at work, he’s always busy at work. sitting in his at home office, looking over paperwork tapping his pen against his desk. those worn out hands holding hours of tension from his day using them. gripping the pen a little too tight, his eyes felt heavy as he read over each word.

but when simon saw your gentle frame walk in through the door, he softened. his straightened back relaxed and he could sigh out and finally have it not be in a bemoaning way.

“what’re you doin’ outta bed, honey?” his voice grumbles lowly.

your sweet and soft nightslip looking even better in the subtle glow of his desk lamp. a gentle shrug as you walked over to him. bashful yet shameless all so effortlessly. his low eyes watched as you padded over to him, fragile hands grabbing at his chest. “can’t sleep, need you” was all you breathed out. his precious girl all tired but not tired enough to doze off on her own.

simon nodded, he always understood. “okay honey, you wanna stay with me while i finish this up?” he mumbled against your temple as you settled on his lap. your chest nuzzled into his.

it was soft and sweet for the first ten minutes. his left hand rubbing your side and back, sometimes playing with your hair as his other hand continued with the paperwork. it was a comfortable silence.

still quiet even when your hips started rutting against his lap. he let you do whatever you needed to do. you were his angel.

of course he would let you do anything you wanted.

his strong hand helping your little motions while his eyes stayed focused on the paperwork in front of him.

but you could barely stay like that for five minutes. needing more already. and you couldn’t interrupt him like that when he was so busy with work. so you asked a soft question you knew he would be happy to agree to . . . “can i use you for a little?”

of course he would let you. nodding his head, eyes still on the paperwork. gently taking his hand off of your side and pushing back in his chair so you could get his suit pants unzipped.

fragile and delicate hands taking out his thick cock and palming it until it was hard enough to stick in. the most you got from simon was a gruff sigh occasionally, but his eyes didn’t glance away from his work. signing his signature on a couple documents as you started to ease the first inch in.

he only acknowledged your actions by placing his hand on your waist. not a tight grip, but definitely not a soft one.

"easy, little baby" he mumbled.

you were never too good at listening when it came to something you wanted. even after years of being with him, the girth of his cock never got any easier to handle. so the tight soppy hole was almost burning in pain when you shifted down a little too quick.

"what did i just say?" simon breathed out softly when he heard your yelp. giving your hip a gentle swat to let you know that was a bad move. then moving to rub the bridge of his nose, his mind was pounding from all the paperwork he had done today, but there were at least two more documents that needed his attention at the moment.

the last thing he wanted to worry about was his precious girl getting hurt because she's too sensitive and dumb to know her own limits.

that entire time he was reading over the words and analyzing the numbers as best he could, your cunt was squeezing him in. fucking yourself on the first four inches of his cock while the wet and sticky slick leaked down the rest of his shaft - coloring his already dark suit pants an even darker cashmere stain.

fragile and delicate nails grabbing at his shirt, your face nuzzled up against him while letting out soft pants. simon sighs out, grabbing your hips and easing you down on the rest of him. heavy fingers digging into the little bit of fat there and helping you bounce up and down softly.

once you eased up to his thick eight and a half inches, his hands released their hold and let you do the rest of the work. his eyes going back to the mind numbing paperwork.

simon could never and would never get enough of your sweet little mewls and purrs as you let your fingers dig into his button up and rock back and forth in his lap. not moving up and down, but instead rutting on his cock. like you didnt even want to think of letting some of him slip out. it was cozy almost, knowing he was right there.

the sweet sounds just got too much for him. it wasn't his fault, not really. but he did feel a little bad when he picked you up off his cock and slammed your back down on his desk. crinkling some of his papers in the process.

but every man has a limit of what they can take and endure. you were his vice. simons warm hands holding you down forcefully on his desk while pistoning in and out. groaning at the way his ears started to ring from the over abundance of pure euphoria.

"pussy's always so warm"

shoving that thick cock into you so hard it made a cute little bump form at the bottom of your tummy. eyes that couldn’t leave the sight of his and his stuck exactly on the way you were leaking around him and onto his desk . simons eyebrows curved pathetically and desperately as he drank in that view.

your legs bouncing back with each one of his eager thrusts. “ah-!” leaving your lips like unheard prayers with glossed over eyes struggling to stay steady.

"you wanted this though, didn’t you baby? you wanted daddy to get you all tired out before bed?"

and of course he kept going until you had creamed out around him two or three times. making sure his little baby was all snuggled up and tuckered out before he took you back to bed where you would stay this time.

[kashverse]

can i request babykuna when she was still in the womb? like sukuna being all sweet and caring to reader when she’s pregnant and talking to her baby bump.

the day sukuna found out you were pregnant, he screamed. not in fear, not in shock—but in sheer, unfiltered, snotty-nosed joy. one moment, he was staring at the positive test in your hands. the next, he had his face buried in his monogrammed handkerchief, honking out the loudest, wettest happy sobs you’d ever heard.

you wondered if you had accidentally married a goose.

“oh my god,” you muttered, watching him go through all five stages of parenthood in under a minute. “we’re having a baby,” he sniffled, pulling you into his arms like he was never letting go. “holy fuck, we’re gonna be parents.”

“yeah, that’s kinda what happens when you—”

“shhh.” he dropped to his knees, pressing his ear to your stomach. “the baby’s listening.”

“… sukuna, i am barely six weeks. there's nothing to listen to.”

he ignored you, humming deeply like he was communicating with the soul of the unborn child. then, after a few moments of wise, fatherly contemplation, he sat up and clapped his hands.

“both of you need rest. now.”

“but i—”

“now.”

and thus began the nine-month saga of sukuna baby-proofing the entire planet.

he refused to let you lift a finger. not even a pinky.

“babe, can you—”

“no.”

“but i just—”

“no.”

you reached for a glass of water right in front of you. he intercepted. he became the ultimate husband, reading baby books, forcing you to take naps, buying enough pregnancy pillows to construct a small fortress. one day, you caught him in the study, wisely reading through the classics.

he squinted at the page, frowning. “… countenance.”

silence.

he flipped the page back. then forward. then he snorted.

“why the fuck does this word exist? just say ‘face,’ dumbass.”

he built two entire walk-in closets for babykuna. one for a boy. one for a girl. “you never know,” he said wisely, surveying his masterpiece.

“sukuna, it’s one baby.”

“you never know.”

it didn’t matter, though. he didn’t care about the gender. “as long as the kid’s happy and healthy,” he muttered one night, resting his hand over your belly, his voice soft, reverent. then, after a beat: 

“but if it’s a boy, i am not naming him after me. too much pressure.”

when the day finally came, and you held babykuna for the first time—her tiny fists curled, her chubby cheeks already resembling her father’s, her rebellious little tuft of hair standing up in defiance—sukuna knew he knew he was right where he was supposed to be.

"she looks like you," you whispered, exhausted but happy, brushing her soft little cheek. he snorted, reaching over to push a strand of hair from your face. "nah," he said, smirking, voice thick with emotion. "she's got your hair."

and for the first time in his life, sukuna felt complete.

[charmedimsure]

Hello! Can I order a Dae Ho one-shot? about the reader who comes to the game pregnant and meets Dae Ho there and they have some kind of connection and he tells her that when they get out of there he would like to be with her and the baby.

thank you and happy new year <3

*slams bell* ORDER UP! (im sorry that was so cringey)

THE THREE OF US || kang dae-ho

pairing: Kang Dae-ho x f!reader

summary: Trying to make it out of the games with both you and your baby's lives, you meet a man who is determined to help.

word count: 6.3k (i did not expect it to be this long thats what she said)

warnings: pregnancy, guns, death, blood, squid game stuff

A/N: i love jun-hee, but the reader replaces her in this fic. reader has no connection to myung-gi (333). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

Part 2: After the Games

The second game is about to start, and time is running out for you to find a team. You've approached a few groups, but have been turned away by all of them. Turns out most groups don't want women on their team.

Out of the corner of your eye you spot the man who had won these games before, along with the man who beat up those other players the day before. Figuring you might as well take a shot, you approach them.

Just as you get to them, a handsome man comes running over, pulling a player along behind him. "Sir! I got someone! He'll definitely risk his life to win."

The man he brought salutes the others. "Victory at all costs!"

The shorter man in the group, player 390, smiles and salutes back. "Hey, were you in the Marines?"

"Class 946, sir!"

Player 390 laughs. "Boy, with three ex-Marines, we'll be invincible." He turns to players 001 and 456. "What do you think? I like him."

Great, you think to yourself. Now they get to pick between an ex-Marine and a woman who can barely stand for more than 20 minutes at a time. Still though, this is a good team, and you'll be damned if you don't at least try.

"Excuse me," you say, getting the group's attention. "Please let me join your team."

Player 390 speaks up. "Sorry, we've already got five people."

Fuck it. Time to pull out the big guns.

"Please help me," you plead, leaning back a bit and putting your hand up to your swollen belly. "I'm pregnant."

All five men grow silent as they look down to your stomach.

<>

"Time for team selection is up."

You can feel the stares of your new team on you as the second game is announced. You just look forward, trying to listen to voice.

"The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each player will take turns playing a mini-game at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the mini games. Number one, Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gong-gi. Number four, Spinning Top. Number five, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the mini-games and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide players for each mini-game."

Player 390 turns to his friend. "It's good that we got a woman." He turns to you. "You can play Gong-gi, right?"

You give him a sorry look as you shake your head.

His smile falters. "Don't girls play Gong-gi anymore?"

You look down at the sand. "I've played it, but I was never good at it."

You can see the disappointment on his face as he nods.

Player 388 takes a deep breath as he turns toward 390. "Actually, I can play Gong-gi."

390 gives him a confused look. "You? And ex-Marine?"

You give 390 a weird look. Is it really that hard to believe that a military man has played a kid's game before?

388 gets embarrassed. "I grew up with four older sisters. I used to play it with them from time to time."

You smile, thinking it's sweet that he used to play games with his sisters.

390 claps him on the back. "That's right. There's nothing a Marine can't do."

Player 456 leans forward to look at all of you. "Everyone else, what game are you confident playing?"

You take a deep breath. Jegi was the game you were best at growing up, but you don't think you'll be able to play it in your condition. You lean forward as well. "I can play Ddakji. At the subway station I flipped the guy's on my first try."

390 nods. "Okay. Miss 222, you can play Ddakji. I'll play Flying Stone. I was a pitcher for my baseball team. I'm good at throwing."

As 456 and 001 decide who will play Jegi and who will play Spinning Top, 388 turns to you.

"Did you really beat him on the first try? It took me at least eight."

You breathe out a laugh and give him a small smile. "Yeah. I probably could have paid off my debt if he had let us keep playing." Your smile falters as you rest your hand on your swollen stomach. "It would have been safer for the baby."

388 frowns sympathetically and scoots a bit towards you. "We will get out of here. And after that, we will go home. You and your baby will be safe."

Although you don't completely believe him, you still give him a smile and thank him for his kind words.

You feel movement in your stomach and let out a small yelp at the unexpected feeling, looking down towards your hand.

"Are you alright? What happened?" 388 asks, concern clear on his face.

With a smile, you lift your head to look at him and the others who have directed their attention to you. "I felt the baby kick."

Player 388 breaks out into a smile as he looks to your belly, seemingly fascinated by what is happening inside of you.

Player 001 lets out a loud laugh. "The baby wants to play Jegi."

You let out a chuckle as the men laugh. You made a good choice asking these players for help.

"All right guys, bring your hands together," 390 says, sticking his hand out in front of him. "All together now."

You need to scoot over a bit, but you put your hand on the pile on top of 388's, who gives you a shy smile.

"On three, we go, 'Victory at all costs.' One, two, three..."

"Victory at all costs!"

<>

The walls open and forklifts are brought in holding boxes with pink bows on top. You watch as the bodies of both teams are separated from each other and placed into each box. One team had made it past the fourth mini-game, while the other had only just finished the second. Both teams were executed.

The bodies are eventually cleared out, but the blood remains on the track. The second team lines up and you recognize the sweet old lady who had given you her egg this morning, as well as her son. Shit, you really hope they make it.

The gun fires and they're off. The first girl, player 095, looks so nervous I'm worried she won't be able to throw the Ddakji. Her first three attempts fail, and she looks as though she won't be able to continue. Player 120 whispers something to her and she nods. She picks up the Ddakji, turns in over in her hand, and smacks it to the floor. Success.

The group celebrates as they move on, and you make a mental note of that little trick for when it's your turn.

Next is player 007, the son. He throws the stone and misses. Instead of panicking like the past groups, they quickly grab the stone and move backwards to the line, saving lots of time. As 007 is preparing to throw the stone again, his mother whispers something to him. A look of anger washes over his face.

"That asshole ruined my fucking life!"

A perfect hit. The entire crowd cheers as they advance to the next mini-game. You smile to yourself. They can do this.

Next is the mother playing Gong-gi. She drops her first two tries. You're guessing it must be at least a few decades since she last played.

"Old hag! What are you doi-"

Player 120 puts her hand over player 044's mouth to shut her up.

You watch as 007 speaks to his mother. With a new look of determination in her eyes, she blasts through Gong-gi until she needs to make the final catch. You and player 388 sit on your heels to get a better look. Her son speaks to her again, and face turns to one of rage.

"Rotten bitch!"

All five pieces end up in her hand.

"She did it!" Player 390 says, getting to his feet, 388 following after him. You try to get up but fall back as you lose your balance. Player 388 notices and holds your arms to help you up, keeping a hand on your back to keep you steady as you stand to watch the next game.

044 fumbles the top as she's wrapping it, but quickly retrieves it and tries again. She fumbles a few more times before stopping. Her team freaks out as she stands there mumbling to herself.

A gasp rings out through the crowd as 120 slaps 044 twice, picking up the fallen top and pointing it threateningly at 044's eye.

"Oh shit," you say under your breath.

Player 044 wipes away the blood streaming from her nose and tries again the wrap the string around the top. She gets it on her first throw and the crowd screams in joy as they move to the next one. Everyone is standing now to watch, chanting along to each step.

Player 120 is handed the Jegi and requests that everyone turns around. Not wanting to mess them up, everyone turns without hesitation. The room is silent besides the sound of the Jegi hitting 120's shoes.

Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five times.

It's done! They did it!

The rooms bursts into screams as the team crosses the finish line at the last second. You turn and hug 388 in pure joy as he jumps up and down. He quickly pulls away so he doesn't do anything to harm the baby, but keeps his arm around you as he celebrates with 390.

The teams keep going, with everyone celebrating the wins and wincing at the gunfire until it is finally your turn.

As you walk to the starting position, a hand gently grabs your wrist and you turn to see player 388. "Make sure to be careful. Take it easy and don't strain yourself."

You nod with a small smile and thank him, taking your spot in the outer ring of the small track. You take deep breaths as the harnesses are secured around your ankles.

"It's a little sad that we have no audience, isn't it?" 390 says, worry in his voice. He nudges 388. "Hey, are you scared?"

"No sir!" 388 yells, making you jump a bit as you were not expecting it. "It's quiet and easier to focus without anyone watching."

390 looks towards the other team. "Hey guys! We'll see you again at the finish line! Victory at all costs!"

The other team yells back their thanks and support before the pistol is fired and you're off.

When you approach the first mini-game, you take the blue tile and turn it over in your hand to match 095's. Throwing it hard at the floor, you yell in delight as the red tile flips over.

You move on to the next game, holding your stomach as you walk.

As 390 takes the stone, 388 yells out "Let's get this done the first time! I believe in you!"

"When I played baseball, my pitches might have been slow, but I had excellent ball control." You watch as the stones collide and yell out in victory as you move to the next one.

388 takes the Gong-gi pieces and you all crouch down.

390 faces him. "Dae-ho, stay calm. Even if you mess up..."

Player 388, or Dae-ho, puts his finger over his mouth to shush him before facing the board, rolling his wrist a few times and dropping the pieces. As quickly as he can, Dae-ho flawlessly gets through the game and catches all five pieces. You and your team members look at each other in awe of what you just watched. It seems that even Dae-ho can't believe he did it.

He lets out a scream as the guard confirms that he passed.

"That was amazing!" Player 390 yells. "Dae-ho, my boy!"

As you move to the fourth mini game, Player 390 looks down at you. "You're expecting, so be careful."

You nod but try to keep your pace, leaning on the small green table once you get to where you need to be.

As player 001 wraps the string around the top, Dae-ho bounces excitedly. "We might get through everything on the first attempt!"

Player 001 throws the top and it falls lazily to the floor as you all frown.

"It's okay, we have enough time," 456 says. "Let's go pick it up. Ready, go."

You all move forward together to grab the top. "No fun passing everything without a hitch," 390 says.

"That's right," 388 confirms. "You can't grow without failure, right?"

You guess he's right, but it would've been nice to pass everything easily. At least you still have three minutes left.

001 grabs the top and you move back to your spots. On his next throw you watch helplessly as the top flies behind your group. You would have laughed in any other situation.

Player 001 apologizes and you move back to grab the top, with 001 taking his sweet time to pick it up. To save time, he tries wrapping it as you walk forward again, but he breaks out of the arm link in frustration. This time he throws it as soon as it is wrapped. It doesn't spin, but at least it lands directly in front of him so you don't have to move again.

Player 456 picks up the top as 001 sighs in frustration. "What the hell is wrong with me?" He screams and you gasp when he starts slapping himself and calling himself an idiot.

456 takes his arms to stop him. "Try to remember the times when you had fun playing this."

001 nods and takes the top and string again. You take the time to look at the clock and feel a wave of worry wash over you when you see that you have less than a minute left. This time, 001 throws the top with his left hand and it spins perfectly on its axle.

You yell in joy as you quickly links arms again and move to the last game. Player 390 checks on you again as you move, and you just wave him off. The stress can't be good for the baby, but it's definitely not as bad as a bullet.

456 grabs the jegi and moves the pink soldier out of the way. He throws it up.

One hit. Two hits. Three hits. Four hits...

You watch in horror as the jegi flies in front of 456. Quickly, 001 kicks his foot out, making you all almost fall as the jegi lands on top of 456's left foot.

"Pass."

You all yell out victoriously and quickly move, crossing the finish line with a second to spare.

As you're all hugging each other, you flinch at the sounds of gunshots coming from the other side of the room. The other team didn't make it.

The main room is oddly quiet as you walk in. As happy as everyone was to see people pass while watching the games, they don't seem to be very happy about it now. Player 390 next to you waves at someone, and you look in the direction to see the woman and her son.

"That sweet old lady," he says with a smile. "I miss my mom."

You smile at the lady and bow your head to her as she gives you a big smile and two thumbs up.

As you sit down to rest and wait for the pink soldiers, 001 speaks up. "I'm sorry about earlier, everyone."

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made the last kick," 456 says and you nod.

001 looks at you. "Player 222, are you feeling alright?"

You nod. "Yes. Thank you all for letting me be on your team."

Dae-ho smiles shyly and nods.

"She smashed that ddakji and flipped it on her first try, that was impressive," 390 says, making you smile at the praise. "She did great, even while carrying a baby. We were lucky she joined our team."

Dae-ho nods. "What about your Flying Stone play? You hit it with one shot! With an underhand pitch at that! Bam!" You let out a small laugh as he reenacts 390's throw. "You were like Kim Byung-hyun."

"And you?" 390 says. "Was Gong-gi the only game you ever played?" He quickly moves his hand around to imitate Dae-ho. "I could barely see your hand. It was like a martial arts movie."

Dae-ho laughs. "I'm the only son for two generations. My mom only let me play at home with my sisters."

"And yet they let their precious son join the Marines?" 390 questions.

Dae-ho hesitates. "My father's idea, he wanted me to be more of a man. He fought in the Vietnam War, you see."

"He sounds like a great man," 390 says and Dae-ho nods. "Was he a Marine, too?"

You can see the discomfort on Dae-ho's face and he quickly excuses himself from answering the question, instead standing up to face everyone. "Listen. Perhaps we should learn each other's names. I still don't know your names, gentlemen." He smiles a bit more when he looks to you. "Or your's, Miss. I'll start. I'm Kang Dae-ho. 'Dae' means 'big', 'ho' means 'tiger'."

"'Big tiger.' Cool name," 390 says. "My name is Park Jung-bae. 'Righteous' and 'twice'. My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous."

You go next, stating your name for the group. "I don't know what it means, though."

001 says your name, getting your attention. "When you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You've been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out."

You nod. "Okay."

"I'm Oh Young-il," 001 says. He points out how it sounds like his number and the group laughs at the coincidence. Young-il turns to 456. "Oh, Gi-hun, what's your last name?"

"My name is Seong Gi-hun," Gi-hun says.

"'Seong' literally means 'last name'," Young-il laughs aloud by himself.

A loud buzz is heard and the guards enter the room. After revealing the results of the game and announcing the next vote, your team turns to each other.

You look down at the red X on your track suit, and look up to see the blue 'O' on Dae-ho's. He sees your gaze and frowns down at his patch.

"I'm telling you, we'll get out this time," he says to the team, though he is mainly looking at you. He looks down at his patch again and curses under his breath. "A Marine should think strategically and know when to retreat." He puts a hand on Jung-bae's shoulder. "Isn't that right, brother?"

"Yeah, you're right," Jung-bae says weakly. "Marines aren't invincible. We should get out." Despite saying this, the look on his face and the nervousness in his tone contradict his words.

"We have to end the games here," Gi-hun says. He turns to look at you. "I will help you guys when we get out. Please trust me and support this vote."

You smile and nod in thanks.

"Guys, all huddle up again," Dae-ho smiles as he sticks out his hand.

"Victory at all costs."

<>

You frown as the buzzer goes off one last time. There had been some... complications during the voting. This lead to the final vote being 116 for X and 139 for O. Standing next to Dae-ho, you don't miss the look of betrayal on his face as he looks over to Jung-bae with the blue patch on his chest.

Dae-ho lets out a loud sigh as you eat your bread. "Brother! Brother Jung-bae!"

You can see Jung-bae tense up from his spot behind the beds.

With a sigh, Dae-ho stands up and approaches the man. "Hey, just come back here."

"No, I'm good here," you hear Jung-bae answer. You roll your eyes.

"Oh, come on." Dae-ho grabs Jung-bae and drags him to face the group.

He stops and stares at you all before speaking. "I'm sorry. I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I'll be able to settle my debt."

"Jung-bae," Young-il addresses the man sadly. "You of all people shouldn't have done it. It's not twice as righteous." He sighs before continuing. "But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted."

Jung-bae jumps at this. "Right? It's not entirely my fault."

"Alright," Dae-ho steps up. "To be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn't enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game."

Jung-bae hugs the man. "You did?"

Dae-ho pushes him away. "I said I get it."

The shorter man turns back to the group. "Thank you for understanding. But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn't we? If we stick together one more time, I'm sure we'll be fine." He turns to you. "I'll make sure we survive the next game-"

"'The next game'?" Gi-hun cuts him off. "In the next game, we might have to kill each other."

There is silence before Young-il speaks up. "Gi-hun, that's a bit much. There's nothing we can do now, so let's try to stay positive. We should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again." He picks up his milk and hands it to you. "Here, you can have mine too. Hang in there until the next game."

You shake your head. "No, that's okay."

"Take it. I don't drink plain milk."

You thank him as you take the milk.

Jung-bae takes the bread out of his pocket. "Have my bread, too. I don't deserve to eat."

You smile as you take it. You have been feeling hungry and one piece of bread would definitely not be enough for you, so you're grateful for the men around you.

"I'll take your milk then," Dae-ho says to Jung-bae.

Before you can stop yourself, a loud laugh escapes from your mouth. The others smile before laughing along as well. You look over to Dae-ho to see a blush covering his face as he smiles.

<>

"Pass it to me."

The guys hand each other mattresses as they move them to under the beds. You had been put in charge of collecting blankets and pillows so you wouldn't strain yourself.

"Is this really necessary?" Jung-bae asks. "I don't like sleeping under there."

"Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us," Gi-hun says as he pushes another mattress under a bed frame.

"What?" Dae-ho asks. "Who?"

"The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It's part of the game they designed."

"Gi-hun, I think you're overreacting here," Young-il says. "Even if that were true, people wouldn't do that."

Gi-hun turns to face him. "In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here. You have no idea how people can change in this place."

Young-il apologizes and you hand the blankets in your arms to Jung-bae.

"We need to take turns keeping watch after lights-out," Gi-hun says. "I'll take the first, you should decide the order for the rest."

The order decided was that Jung-bae would take over after Gi-hun, then Dae-ho, then Young-il would be last. You tried to volunteer to keep watch but they immediately shot you down, saying you needed the rest more than them.

<>

After a trip to the bathroom with players 149 and 120, whose names you still did not know, you come back to find Dae-ho keeping watch. You try to quickly wipe the tear stains from your cheeks as you walk back to the makeshift shelter. You give a quick nod to Dae-ho before trying to move past him, but he calls out your name, making you stop and turn to look at him.

He looks up at you with concern. "Are you okay?"

You put on a smile and nod. "Yes, I'm fine." As you try to walk away you feel his hand gently grab your wrist to stop you.

"No you're not," he says. You sigh, upset that you've been caught. He moves to the side to give you space and you sit next to him, figuring you're not gonna get out of this. "What happened? Was it the baby?"

You shake your head, feeling tears start to well up again. "It's everything." You put your head in your hands. "I never should have played Ddakji with that guy, I never should have called the number, I should have just stayed at home and prepared for the baby."

Dae-ho gently rubs your back as you cry into your sleeves. Even though you really only just met, he feels connected to you. Maybe it's just because you survived the second game together, but he cares for you and doesn't want anything bad to happen to you. He was stunned when you had walked up to the group before the game and asked to join, immediately regretting picking anyone besides the beautiful stranger that was standing in front of him.

"What about your husband?" Dae-ho asks. "Does he know that you're here?"

You shake your head. "I don't have a husband. I don't even have a boyfriend. It's just me and the baby." You turn to look at him and although he's too kind to ask you how you got knocked up, you can see the question all over his face. "My ex-boyfriend is the reason I got into so much debt. He made a lot of bad investments and when he ran out of his own money, he started using mine. When I told him I was pregnant, he freaked out and left. Didn't even say anything, his stuff was just all gone one day."

Dae-ho feels himself getting angry at this. If he found out a man had done this with one of his sisters, he would do something to him that would probably land him in prison. It takes two people to make a baby. Just because the mother is the one that carries it doesn't mean that the father isn't responsible for the child.

"He's a fucking coward," Dae-ho says, making you snort a small laugh. "And he's an idiot to leave you."

"It's for the best, though," you say. "He wasn't a good boyfriend, I knew that even while we were dating. But he was my first love, and we all do stupid things the first time we're in love." Dae-ho nods, watching as you bring your hand to rest on your stomach. "I only wish that my child would have a father in their life."

"They will have an amazing mother, though," he says, making you smile.

"I hope so," you rub your swollen belly. "Hey, Dae-ho, can I ask you something?"

Dae-ho nods, looking at you with intrigue.

"Earlier you told Jung-bae that you had thought about voting to stay. Why didn't you?" You ask.

The man takes a deep breath. "Honestly, I thought of you. You and your baby. When you told us that you're pregnant, it really hit me that I'm not the only person in here, that there are other lives at risk. If you died, it wouldn't just be the end of your life. Your baby doesn't deserve that. You don't deserve that."

You can't help the smile that blooms on your face at his words, as well as the small blush. "Thank you for thinking of me. You're a very sweet person, Kang Dae-ho." You watch as he gives you a shy smile, a light dusting of pink on his face. "What about you? Do you have a girlfriend waiting for you back home?"

He shakes his head. "No, just me." You give him an incredulous look and he chuckles. "Dating wasn't easy while in the Marines, and I guess I just never found anyone that interested me enough after."

You let out a small laugh. "Sounds like you have high standards."

He chuckles. "I'm just waiting to find the one. They say that when you know, you know."

"That's going to be one very lucky girl," you say, watching as the blush on his face deepens. "I hope you find her soon."

"I can't explain why, but I feel like I will." He smiles down at you with a look that makes your heart skip a beat. After a few moments he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I've kept you up for so long, you should get some sleep. You'll likely need your energy for tomorrow's game."

You nod, standing up. "You're right, I've been up too long." You start to move towards your mattress, but stop. "It was nice talking to you, Dae-ho."

He smiles at you. "Goodnight."

You smile back. "Goodnight."

For the rest of his watch, Dae-ho sneaks peaks at your sleeping form, a warm feeling running through him when he thinks about your words.

<>

You awake to the feeling of someone shaking you. Groggily opening your eyes, you see Dae-ho leaning over you.

"The next game is starting soon, we need to get up," he says.

You hear the classical music that has played before every game and nod, allowing him to help you get out of bed. "Nothing to start the day off like a sadistic game and fearing for your life, huh?"

Dae-ho lets out a chuckle as you make your way to the doors. He walks behind you on the stairs to make sure you don't fall, and stands right by your side as the curtains are opened to reveal the game room.

"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle. All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

"Oh, this game?" Jung-bae says. "We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging."

"I played it too," you say. "But we would hold hands instead."

Together you set up a strategy. If the number is five, you'll all go together. If it's more than five, you'll grab however many people we need. If it's smaller than five, you'll break off into groups. When your strategy is done, you put your hands in the center.

"Victory at all costs."

<>

"Let the game begin."

The platform jerks as it starts rotating, and you almost lose your balance, but Dae-ho is there to grab you and steady you on your feet.

"Ten."

Everyone starts looking around like mad as they try to find ten players.

Gi-hun looks to a player behind him. "How many are you?"

"Four," the woman replies. You recognize her as one of the women who came to the bathroom with you last night.

"That makes us nine!" Jung-bae says.

A man from another group comes running over. "Are you five? We need five!"

Before any of you can answer, another player yells back. "We have five people! Come with us!"

The two groups go running off towards a door.

"We have to hurry!" Gi-hun says.

"There's no time, Gi-hun!" Young-il tells him.

"We need one more!" the tall woman yells. She spots someone by herself near the center of the platform and grabs her. "We have ten!"

"Room 44! Green door! Hurry!" Young-il yells, already running off in the direction of the door.

You run as fast as you can towards the door as Young-il holds it open for everyone to get inside. You feel Dae-ho's hand on the small of your back the entire way to the room. Before you get the chance to even think, the clock runs out, and the lock clicks on the door.

Screams and gunshots can be heard from behind the door, the sad fate of those who didn't make it in time.

Dae-ho turns to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "How are you feeling? Is everything okay?"

"A bit out of breath, but I'm okay," you say, and he nods. Taking the chance to look around the room, you see that the other five is the first group that passed the pentathlon the day before.

"You're alive thanks to me!" Player 044 yells out, making you jump. She looks over everyone before stopping on you and stepping closer, making you take a step back. Dae-ho holds you close to him as the woman looks down at your stomach. She then looks up at Dae-ho and gives him a knowing smirk before leaving to speak to Gi-hun.

You look up at Dae-ho, who is still holding you to his chest. He watches the woman walk away before look down at you, your faces so close that your noses are only a few inches apart.

Once the bodies are removed from the playing area, you're let out of the room and make your way back to the center platform. The next round is four people to a room, and Young-il goes off on his own to find three more as the rest of you run to a room with a purple door.

Once you're let out, Dae-ho and Jung-bae yell for Young-il before a voice calling Gi-hun's name grabs your attention. You look over with relief to see Young-il jogging up to your group.

"I knew you were going to be okay!" Jung-bae smiles as he pulls Young-il in for a hug. "I knew it. You're not just anybody."

"I was worried," Gi-hun says. "I'm glad you made it."

Young-il smiles. "I'm a likable guy, so I'm good at games like this." He turns to you. "Are you feeling alright?"

You nod with a smile. "Yes, I'm alright. I'm glad you're back."

Young-il gives you a smile, but his face turns serious. "Wait a minute," Young-il says, "if the next number is six, we won't need anyone else, will we?"

"Why not?" Dae-ho asks.

After a moment, Jung-bae laughs. "Oh, in her tummy?"

Dae-ho lets out a loud laugh. "Right, that makes six."

You smile as they joke around, looking down to your swollen belly.

The next round is three, so you, Dae-ho, and Jung-bae run to a room with an orange door. With every round, you can feel yourself growing more and more tired, and your feet are begging for relief from so much standing and moving.

Once you get out of the green room with Dae-ho and players 120, 095, 007, and 149 (you make a mental note to ask for their names once you're back in the main room), you feel exhausted. As you step onto the platform, Dae-ho grabs your arm to support you.

"Now, the final round will begin."

The platform begins to rotate and you lean on Dae-ho to keep yourself upright.

"What do you think it'll be this time?" Jung-bae leans forward to ask Gi-hun.

"Two," Young-il answers, getting our attention.

"Why?"

"There are 126 people left, and there are 50 rooms. So there won't be enough rooms for everyone, only 100."

"Are you alright?" Dae-ho asks you, concern on his face.

You shake your head. "I don't think I can run anymore."

The platform stops and the lighting dims.

"Two."

Before you can tell what's happening, you are lifted off the ground. You hold on tightly to Dae-ho as he sprints to the nearest door with you in his arms. Once inside, he places you on the ground and moves toward the door, pushing his weight against it to keep anyone else from getting in and pushing you out.

You keep your gaze on the man. He saved your life. He saved your baby's life. Without hesitation. Hell, he even voted to leave for you yesterday. This man who only came into your life a day ago has shown you more unwavering loyalty than anyone else has before.

Then the realization dawns on you: you don't want to do this without him. You don't want anything to happen to him. You want to protect him, just as he is protecting you. Not just in the games, but always.

The lock on the door clicks into place and screams are heard from the other side of the door. Once the screams finish, Dae-ho kneels beside you.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, still in awe of the man in front of you. You examine his face and a surge of confidence rushes through you.

"Can I do something really stupid?"

Dae-ho gives you a confused look. "What?"

You grab his zip-up and pull him to you, planting your lips against his. You feel him stiffen and worry that you've made a terrible mistake, but before you can pull away, you feel one of his hands slide into your hair as the other moves to cup your cheek.

For a perfect moment, you're not in this crazy place. There's no debt, there's no death, there's no fear. There's just you and Dae-ho.

You pull away first but Dae-ho chases your lips, giving you a peck before resting his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath.

"I promise you that I am going to get us out of here," he whispers to you. You feel his hand move down to your stomach. "The three of us. If you'll let me."

You gasp at his words, tears forming in your eyes as you nod. This time, you believe him. Dae-ho pulls you in for another kiss and you smile against his mouth, feeling him smile as well.

The sound of the door unlocking gains your attention and Dae-ho pulls away. Voices can be heard beyond the door.

Dae-ho stands up and holds out his hands for you to take, helping you to your feet. He wipes the stray tears from your cheeks and plants a kiss on your forehead before lacing your fingers together and leading you out of the room.

Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck

Lmk if you want to be added to the Dae-ho taglist!

[dollfacefantasy]

bucky barnes x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, public sex, boss/employee relationship a/n: i just watched brave new world so <3333 this is based on the request i am going to answer in a few moments.

1:30 pm, and a quick call to your desk. "sweetheart, could you come in here for a minute?" his voice crackled through the receiver. you knew what that meant.

not even five minutes later, he had you bent over the dark mahogany in his office, your pencil skirt hiked up around your hips, the pretty pink panties you'd worn for him pushed to the side so his cock could pump in and out of you with ease.

"fuck, mr. barnes," you whimpered, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. your hands slid as they pressed down on scattered papers beneath them.

a chuckle came from behind you. his hands gave your hips a squeeze. you could feel the mechanical flex on your left side.

"what'd i tell you about calling me that?" he asked.

"that- mmm- that i should only do it at work, but- ah!" you tried to explain, cut off by his tip brushing against a sensitive spot inside you. gripping the edge of the desk, you steeled yourself to finish your sentence. "but, technically, we're still at work, sir."

you heard him hum in acknowledgement, and in your mind, you could all but see that cute little smirk on his face. the one reserved for you. even when you were just his secretary, you were still the only one who got to see it so freely.

"smart girl. i guess that is true," he said, completing his statement with a particularly hard thrust.

you squeaked at the impact, and your eyes rolled back. despite your own noise, you were just happy the desk wasn't budging an inch under his momentum.

"but since we're 'at work,' you also know that you're supposed to be quiet," he said, his voice much lower and much closer to your ear. you could feel the crisp fabric of his suit against your back. his tie feathered along your side, causing you to squirm back on him.

"i- i am," you stammered.

"yeah? you think this is quiet? quiet enough that if anybody walked by those doors, they wouldn't hear you whining for me?" he whispered.

words of defense didn't come to mind. instead, you gasped as he nuzzled into your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses along your throat. your walls clamped around his length. you squeezed him, sucked him in with everything you had, your body wordlessly crying more, more, more.

"we wouldn't want any rumors going around, would we? people already talk about how cute my little secretary is, how she chases after me with stars in her eyes," he practically cooed. "they warn me about you, you know. i don't wanna get caught up in a scandal after all."

your knees almost give out beneath you, but being squished between him and the desk keeps you in place.

you knew what he was saying was true. people did talk about you and him. speculated if your relationship went beyond what was appropriate for a representative and his secretary. but fuck, you didn't care. not while sitting at your desk during the day or laying in his arms at night, and you certainly didn't care when he was fucking you like you'd been made just for him.

"they won't," you finally answered, words closer to a babble now. "they won't hear. only you can hear."

his lips curled into a smile against your skin. "that's right, baby. only me," he said with a soft peck to your cheek.

the moment of tenderness was brief though. his mechanical hand slid around to grasp your throat, giving him more leverage to drill into you.

at this point, you were right on the edge. he had settled into a rhythm that stroked you just right every time. your release was coming closer and closer every second.

you sucked in another ragged breath, unable to get the words out to articulate what you felt inside. but that was ok. he knew all your tells. he recognized the shaky legs and grabby hands and pulsing grip of your cunt.

his hand that wasn't on your neck wrapped around your body and snaked its way between your legs. the warm flesh of his fingertips swirled over your clit, rubbed back and forth in rapid stripes to give you the final push.

"i know, baby. i know it feels so good, and i know you're gonna be a good girl and stay quiet. so cum for me," he murmured.

just in case, you covered your mouth with your palm. your body spasmed as you let release wash over you. to your surprise, you did remain quiet for the most part. only a few little sounds of ecstasy escaped your lips for your hand to muffle.

he groaned right into your ear, the noise quiet to the entire world except for you. it was only a matter of seconds before you felt the familiar burst of warmth and the uneven jolts of his hips against your backside.

once the two of you had both finished, you each took a few seconds to catch your breath. you couldn't take too long however because his lunch break was ending, and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out the both of you were doing a little more than going over briefings in here.

he eased out of you and then helped you clean up a bit. your panties fell back into place while your skirt unbunched to cover up your thighs again. you glanced in the mirror on the wall to make sure your makeup hadn't smudged. with a tug of your blazer, you were ready to go back out there.

"not even gonna give me a kiss before you go?" he asked.

that brought a little smile to your face. when you turned to him once again, he was put back together too. no remnants of you on his suit, all the buttons together again, every strand of his hair in place.

you leaned in for what was supposed to be a quick peck. but his arm looped around your waist and held you close for a few moments longer. your shy eyes connected with his when he finally let you pull away. he gave you a pat on the ass as you went to walk away.

"i'll see you after work, mr. barnes," you said with a little laugh.

[sai-int]

How would rts!simon act when it comes to pregnant reader’s hormones? Like she gets super clingy randomly or will just start crying over a cute dog reel on instagram?

combining this with the ask about reader getting super horny from pregnancy hormones too!

—so, simon can handle horny. no problem.

you climb into his lap, needy and squirmy, whining that you “just want to feel full, si, please—” and he’s already palming your belly like it’s the most precious thing in the world, lips against your temple, growling into your skin:

“y’can have it, sweet’art. whatever y’need. y’know i’ll fuck y’through anythin’”

the way you grind down on him, teary and frustrated because your body’s so sensitive—that makes him gentle in the filthiest way. slow, deep thrusts. endless praise. letting you cry it out on his cock if you have to, soothing you with soft “that’s it, atta girl, ride it out, i got ya.”

he’s obsessed with how your body changes. how much warmer you feel, your growing bump and the plush of your hips, how tight you still are. he has zero complaints—if anything, he’s addicted.

—he can also handle clingy; he actually loves when you need doting on or when you want more of his attention. he’s happy to oblige.

when you shuffle into the room in one of his shirts, lip wobbly, just wanting to be held—he drops everything. doesn’t care what he was doing. he’ll sit on the couch with you curled up on his chest for hours, rubbing your back, murmuring soft little nothings into your hair.

“you’re alright, girl. ’m not goin’ anywhere.”

likes that he can soothe you, that you trust him enough to let him be your anchor. and when you whine, apologizing for “being too much” or “annoying,” he just pulls you closer.

“y’nevertoo much, dafty. not for me.”

even if he wakes up to you sobbing at your phone screen at 3 am, he’s still there for you. he just hands you a tissue and kisses your forehead.

“y’ cryin’ over a pug wearin’ a sweater, sweet’art.”

*“i know, simon, it’s just so—“ hiccup “—small—”

he bites back a smile and holds you while you cry. rubs your belly. rubs your back. and then when you start laughing at yourself five minutes later, he kisses you again and calls you a “mental little thing.”

regardless he loves all of it. it overwhelms him sometimes, how much emotion you carry in comparison to him, how vulnerable you let yourself be with him. but he wouldn’t trade it for anything. not even the sobbing over tiktok edits of golden retrievers.

because it’s you. and every piece of you is his to protect, to love, to hold. even when you’re hormonal and feral and snotty-faced crying into his hoodie at in the dead of night.

especially then.

[poguehearted77]

Bubblegum Ballerina

Pairing: Dental Student! Reader x Single Dad! Rafe

Summary: Spring rolls around with new beginnings, starting with a new placement for you in a pediatric dentist's office and meeting a patient's handsome (and single) dad.

Just some headcanons unless it should be a full-fic??

Single Dad! Rafe would bring his five-year-old daughter Ella to the dentist ten minutes early because he hates being late and knows that his little girl would do anything to try and stop him from taking her because she hates the dentist. She once even hid his shoes just so she wouldn't have to go.

Single Dad! Rafe would immediately lean over the counter and whisper to the familiar receptionist he'd seen for years, asking about you the second you whisked Ella away and out of sight.

Ballerina! Ella would ramble in her chair to you about her upcoming ballet performance and how her daddy bought her a new tutu because he tells her she's the best ballerina ever.

Dental Student! Reader could listen to Ella's cute stories and pink passion projects for hours but when the dentist entered and it came time to start her cleaning Ella immediately started to fuss, squirming and refusing to open her mouth.

Dental Student! Reader would do her very best to keep Ella relaxed, offering to hold her hand and telling her stories about magical ballerina's that got to dance with fairies as a treat for going to the dentist and staying calm.

Ballerina! Ella hated the mint-flavoured polish and always asked if they had the bubblegum flavour after trying it once and now refuses to have anything else.

Single Dad! Rafe lights up when he sees his daughter running to him with a clean bright smile and a goody-bag that she says you helped pick out for her, making sure everything is extra awesome like she is.

Single Dad! Rafe who nearly trips over his words when he finally gets to speak to you about how everything went, hoping that she wasn't too much to handle, showing that he's well aware of his daughter's anti-dentist antics. He's both happy and sad to hear that Ella has a small cavity, but the joy creeps in when he realizes he gets to see you again soon.

Dental Student! Reader scans Rafe's hands looking for any signs of a ring or implications of a Mrs. Cameron and she's not as subtle as she thought she was when Rafe grins and waves his left hand to regain her attention (but actually to show the lack of a wedding band)

Ballerina! Ella who begs reader to come to her ballet performance so that she can see the new tutu her daddy bought her and watch her dance. Rafe immediately apologizes for her outbursts and insinuates that you're a very busy person but you accept without thinking.

Single Dad! Rafe brings two bouquets of flowers to the recital, one for you and one for his little ballerina who ran off to show all her friends the flowers her daddy got her. Leaving the two of you to talk and address the budding romance between you.

- nsfw! Rafe who hasn't fucked anyone since the divorce struggling to hold himself together when he sinks his cock into you for the first time. Leaning down to whisper filthy praises into your ear.

- Further down the line when things get more serious, the two of you would get a secret kick out of sneaking away from Ella's friends' exhausting birthdays for a quickie in the back of Rafe's truck parked 2 blocks away, reappearing just in time for the candles.

- Single Dad! Rafe who has a tiny little breeding kink and gets hard anytime he thinks about filling your stomach with his cum and knocking you up with his baby. "You'd look so perfect walkin' around the house--tits all big n' swollen, belly round with our baby. Whaddya' think? Hm? You want that for yourself? Wanna be my good little housewife that takes care of our child while I'm at work before I come home n' take care of you?"

[chilumi-shipper]

Little Lamb (3)

Kamisato Ayato x Fem!Reader / Wanderer x Fem!Reader / Alhaitham x Fem!Reader x Kaveh

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, Lambgirl!Reader, Dumb and Innocent Reader, Manipulation, Pseudoincest, Size Kink, Overstimulation, Praise, Slight Degradation

Summary: Genshin men fucking innocent little lambgirl you.

Go check out the other boys (Diluc, Kaeya, and Xiao) and (Zhongli, Childe, Albedo, Kazuha, and Thoma).

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Kamisato Ayato

His parents took you in when you were both just little kids.

The young Ayato's curiosity about you began the very moment you entered the estate with a confused look on your face.

"Ayato, this is Y/N. She really needs our help." His mother was gentle when she introduced you to him.

His mother said to him in a soft voice, she spoke about how you were a poor, helpless girl that they rescued from Kairagi Samurais who were planning to sell you because of your extraordinary features.

Young Ayato's hands couldn't help but reach out for your soft and cute ears in fascination, but you backed away before he could feel the fur of your ear on the pads of his fingers.

"Oh, she's a little shy. But I hope you can treat her like a sister." You hid behind his mother, looking at him as he stares at his mother in disbelief.

"Is that understood, my darling?"

His light purple eyes stared at your small form, looking up at him with such innocent and soft eyes.

"I don't want her as my sister." Tears welled up in your eyes as you hear the young boy say those words.

"...Ayato?!" His mother was at a loss for words, she didn't expect such an answer from her well-mannered son.

When you were rescued, you heard all about Ayato and Ayaka, the former was still a baby, but you were told that Ayato was a kind-hearted and polite boy, and that he will surely accept you within his home.

A family is something that you have always wanted.

Ayato knows that. Although... he has never viewed you as a sister, back when he was a child, you somewhat acted like a pet, especially towards his parents. And now, you act like a servant, constantly trying your best to please him in hopes that he starts to view you as family.

That was all you wanted, so for so many years, you have done everything in your power to meet the young lord's expectations.

As you both grow older though, his demands turned... more unusual.

Your tasks are not akin to the ones of a regular servant.

According to him, your tasks are... more of familial matters, something more important.

"I c-can't... I-I can't do it, Ayato..." Your whimper was accompanied by a few sniffles, tears coating your eye as you held your body up on top of him.

He wrapped his hand around his dick, caressing your folds with his tip. "But it would really really make me happy if you ride me, darling." He pouts at you, and you could only look away for that was your greatest weakness.

You were both fully naked, him laying on his bed and you holding yourself up to try and straddle him. However, for the past five minutes, you were only able to get the tip of his cock in before you turn into a whimpering mess.

"But Ayato... It h-hurts." You frowned at him, your ears folding as a sign of your sadness.

He sighs, his hips shooting forward a little to push some of his length into your cunt. "There..." He grunts in your ear, causing an uncontrollable wiggle of your tail that somehow always happens when he does something like that. "Now keep going..."

You felt his hand tighten around your waist, probably due to your pussy immediately clamping down on him despite not even half being pushed in.

After a few seconds, you try again, pushing yourself down on his length to take him in some more.

You cry out only halfway in, looking desperately in his eyes and shaking your head. "No no! Ayato, I can't..."

You just couldn't anymore, normally, he would be the one to do all the work of fucking you. You felt ashamed, not even being able to fulfill his request.

Ayato merely sighed in disappointment, before switching your position so that he was on top of you. Then, he slammed his cock all the way in, making you scream out in euphoria as you cling on to him for dear life.

He breathes heavily as he fucks into you, "When you can finally do what I ask you to do, perhaps... I'll finally acknowledge you as family."

Underneath him, you acquire some new-found determination, next time, you will try your best so that you can finally be a proper Kamisato.

Scaramouche (Wanderer)

Nahida has been hearing the prayer of a certain lamb girl trying to get into the Akademiya. She senses the pure heart and determination within you and decides that she will help you out.

"I know someone that can tutor you so you can pass your entrance exam!"

And that's why you ended up in the home of a grumpy looking scholar with a big hat. You smiled brightly at him, clutching your books to your chest.

"Lesser Lord Kusanali said you're really smart and that you would love to help me!" You looked at him expectantly, not faltering under his intense gaze.

Much to his annoyance, he couldn't possibly go against Nahida, so he opted to sit you down and actually try to teach you.

Quickly did his annoyance grow when he realized that nothing sticks to that brain of yours except food and delusions. You talk all about getting into the Akademiya but you could not even grasp the easiest subject in the entrance exam.

Your first session wasn't the best, you left his home disappointed and Wanderer knew that Nahida would question him about what had happened and why you looked so sad.

For your second session, Nahida gave him an advice: "Why don't you try quizzing her and giving a prize when she gets a question right. Don't put her down with those insults you usually give."

This ultimately sparks an idea in his head.

You were bent over his counter top, your skirt hiked up and your underwear on the ground. You breathe heavily and closed your eyes as he sinks his cock deeper into you.

"Now... which Darshan in the Akademiya specializes in biology, and the study of medicine?" He whispers in your ear, and he almost chuckles as he sees your tail wiggle, which he know at that point means that you know the answer.

"Amurta!" You answered enthusiastically, your legs twitching as he starts to play with your clit with his fingers.

"That's a good girl..." He started to thrust slowly into you as he plays with your clit. You moaned, feeling warm from his rare praise.

It's simple really, nothing is a greater prize for you than receiving praise, feeling good all over. He knows that you would do anything to be called a good girl, to be acknowledged as smart, you have always been submissive like that.

He's been setting up quizzes like these ever since your second session, and it's proven effective, if you get a question correct, he starts to fuck you play with your body the way you like, throwing in a praise to get you going, but if you get it wrong or take too long to answer, you get a spank and most likely get degraded by him. If you pass the quiz, you get to cum and be treated like perfect little princess, if you fail, you get to go home with a red butt and watery eyes.

"What is the name of the border that separates the desert and the rain forest?"

Your blood runs cold, and he notices it immediately. You know that one, but for some reason it's blurry in your mind.

Wall... Wall of... Saa...

Smack. You yelp as you feel a slap land on you clit. He feels you squeeze around him in surprise, making him thrust according to what speed he wants..

"Wall of Samiel." He spits out, roughly pounding into you. "Stupid slut."

"I-I knew that!" You cried, feeling disappointed that you couldn't piece it together in your mind faster. You cling onto the counter as his brutal thrusts shake your whole body.

At the end of that session, you got an 13/20. Could be better but he decides to let you cum that day, as well as fill you up with his own seed before cleaning you up and sending you on your merry way.

"Bye bye, Hat Guy! Tomorrow, I promise you don't have to spank me once!" You waved him goodbye, oblivious to the weirded out stare the people passing by gave you. You merely thought about how many praises you're gonna get tomorrow.

Alhaitham and Kaveh

He really should charge Kaveh twice as much of his rent.

"...and you will be staying in my room with me!" Kaveh exclaimed excitedly as he proudly presented to you his room.

Your eyes lit up at the sight of the well-kept room, everything neatly in place, thought there were some crumpled paper pooling from his desk, and the decor well-chosen for his own preferences.

"Woahhh!"

As your eyes scanned the room, Alhaitham managed to catch your gaze, merely standing on your left with his arms crossed.

"I don't seem to remember allowing someone else to live in my house." He spoke directly to Kaveh, before he focused his eyes on your ears sitting on top of your head. "Or do you plan to excuse her as your 'pet'?"

You hide behind Kaveh, hoping he would jab at the gray-haired man for you.

"This is both our house, I pay the rent too y'know!"

"Barely."

"Whatever, you just don't understand what being kind is." Kaveh grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his room, before shutting the door in Alhaitham's face.

"Ignore that guy... he's just a bitter lonely scholar!" The blonde said the last part particularly loud, intending to let his roommate hear what he said.

You giggled, nodding as you take in the room you'll be sleeping in.

Kaveh isn't coming home tonight. Apparently, he's gonna be spending the entire night at the Akademiya working on a project that he's been neglecting for a month.

That leaves you all alone with the gray-haired man that you fear so much. Though, without Kaveh to rile him up, he's quite nice to you.

He even made dinner for you and him to share.

As you ate, you keep thinking about Kaveh, if he's gonna come home or not. You've never slept alone, and you are quite afraid.

Alhaitham took note of your troubled expression, "Kaveh isn't coming home tonight." He says, and you begin to panic, shaking in your seat.

"I-I can't..." You shake your head, looking down with watery eyes. "Can't sleep... a-alone."

He merely sighs, not wanting to hear the bleats of a panicked lamb in the middle of the night. "Sleep with me then."

...

He didn't expect to see you fully undress yourself after bringing your pillows into his room. "What are you doing?"

You look up at his clothed form, looking at him as if he's the crazy one for not taking off every garment on his body for bed. "Kaveh says that the only way to sleep right is if you sleep fully naked."

You took off your underwear, making Alhaitham sigh, "Did he now...?" His words were laced with skepticism that you were too stupid to notice.

You nod, making your little nest on your side of his bed. "Mhhmh, the air is nice and chilly, and the blanket keeps you warm." You cover yourself with his blanket. "You should listen more to Kaveh, Mr. Alhaitham, he's smart and nice and caring...."

"And stupid..." He muttered under his breath, taking off his top to expose his toned upper half. Despite his suspicion on what exactly happens in the confines of Kaveh's room, he can't exactly deny his intrigue in you, so he indulges.

He rids himself of his clothes, his weight dipping into the cushions as he lays next to you. Under the blanket, the skin of his muscular arm feels the pads of your searching fingers. He turns to you, seeing you already looking at him while your hands finally wrap around his arm.

You look cautiously at him, all while you guide his hand between your legs. "Did Kaveh teach you this too?" Alhaitham looks at you unbothered, letting you place his fingers against your core.

"Yeahh... when I can't sleep... iiih" You squeal out when his fingers start moving to rub your clit. You held onto his wrist, ever so slowly grinding down on his hand.

Alhaitham pries his hand from your hold, making you whimper as you chase after his touch. "How lazy..." He shakes his head, sitting up to position himself above you. "When you go back to his room tomorrow, why don't you show him what I'm gonna teach you."

You look at him curiously, his hand reaches for his cock, holding it at the base and nudging the tip at you clit. He rubs the tip continuously at it, occasionally running through your hole.

You instinctively open your legs wider for him, moaning as you feel wetness pool out of your pussy. "M-Mr. Alhaitham..." Your ears fold, feeling overwhelmed by such a large thing being pressed against your sensitive part.

As he moves to line up his length to your cunt, his tip leaving your clit covered in his precum, he feels the vibration of your shaking tail near your heat.

"Excited?" Alhaitham scoffs at the sight of your hole leaking with cum as he pressed his tip against it.

You nod, a deep blush evident on your face. "M-Mr. Alhaitham... I like this..." You let him know, nodding at your self-realization.

He eases himself inside you, breathing heavily at how you clamp down on him immediately. "Kaveh ought to treat his little pet better, I bet fingers aren't enough to get you off now, huh?"

Feeling how incredibly tight you are, Alhaitham grips your waist for support, pulling you closer to sink himself deeper into you. You flutter around him so sweetly, welcoming his cock with such warmth and pleasure that it has him lost for words.

Soon enough, he pounds away at you, hitting your sweet spot that pushes you to let out some cute little bleats. While you were losing your mind being fucked by his cock, his expression was as if he was reading a book, blank and intense.

While you were tearing up from the pleasure, slurring as you say his name over and over, your body shaking, he rams into you with feverish intensity, so composed and dominant.

It's when he combines his fingers, rubbing at your clit, with his hard thrusts did you finally scream so loud at him. "M-MR. ALHAI.... AHHH." You held desperately onto his wrist, trying to ease of of the pressure off your pussy, but he was relentless.

"Cum with me." He says so stoically, but it remains a command in your ears, even if you don't necessarily know what it means.

You let go of... something... a knot-like feeling in your tummy, and next thing you know, there was something incredibly hot flowing inside you, filling you up with warmth.

Alhaitham pulls out, and you get a glimpse of his softening cock with cum still staining the tip. "Tell your beloved Kaveh that that's how you get a little lamb to sleep." As he mentions it, you feel your eyes droop, tiredness taking over you after that mind numbing orgasm.

"I will, Mr. Alhaitham..."

...

"He did what?"

You merely nodded at his question, pointing at his pants. "Yes, Master Kaveh... with his cock, almost like yours!"

You were sat naked on his bed, nice and ready for bed, and as Kaveh was reaching out for you to initiate your nightly routine, you started to talk about last night.

"I really like what Mr. Alhaitham did, Master Kaveh. He's really good!" You smiled all innocently at him, unaware of the current eruption of emotions in his mind.

"Good, huh?" Kaveh places himself on top of you, pinning your hands on the bed. "That's the last time I'm spending the night at the Akademiya."

He reaches out to kiss at your fluffy ears, just like he knows you love. "Since you loved it so much, why don't I show you how it's really done. I'm sure Alhaitham is to stiff to let you get the full experience."

You feel your tail shake with excitement, and as he noticed it, he smiled, his hand reaching to rub your glistening pussy.

Long story short, Alhaitham hears some bed creaking and loud bleats from a certain lambgirl coming from Kaveh's room for many hours that night.

He's had a chance to think about it...

Perhaps if that cute little lamb would accompany him in his room more often, then he can let Kaveh get away with not paying rent for a couple of weeks.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Little Lamb in this day and age?!?! (⁠‘⁠◉⁠⌓⁠◉⁠’⁠)

Hahahahah, yeahhh, it's been a while, I hope you enjoyed!

[coffee-and-geto]

HOW CAN I LOVE WHEN I’M AFRAID TO FALL? - SATORU GOJO

“I fell in love with you as soon as I saw you, as soon as you covered me from my father, as soon as I heard your laugh, saw the amazing mother you are, and realized I never wanted you to leave this house.”

pairing: CEO! satoru gojo x f!reader

summary: to your almost regret, your life as a single mother seems to be weighing more and more heavily on your worn-out shoulders. so what could be better than pretending to be the CEO’s girlfriend of the business you work for, knowing that his father is the general manager?

warnings: +18 only, smut, nsfw, her daughter is called hinata, fake dating/single mom tropes, angst, mother insecurities, fluff, reader’s ex is a jerk, unprotected sex, sex (p in v), overstimulation, pussy drunk (satoru), nipple play, fingering (f!receiving), oral (m), this fic is (really slightly) inspired from the french book ‘un printemps pour te succomber’ by morgane moncomble, including therefore small similar dialogues.

wc: 10,154

“Can I taste the frosting?”

Your lips curve into a smile. “Of course, angel.” You crouch down and hand the spatula coated in pastel pink frosting to your five-year-old daughter. Her little fist wraps around the handle, and joy spreads across her angelic face like rays of sunshine. “So? How is it?”

“It’s so good!” she exclaims, and you chuckle.

“I’m glad you like it.” You glance at the clock in your kitchen. “I’ll put the frosting in the fridge. While the cake bakes, go back to playing, and I’ll call you to help decorate the cake as soon as it’s ready, okay?”

Hinata nods, blowing you a kiss that you return after a moment of surprised hesitation, your lips forming an “O”. Amid delighted laughter, she skips away, and you turn back to face the bowl of cake batter.

Why does it have to be so hard?

Every birthday, you hold back tears because who said ‘single mom’ doesn’t rhyme with ‘baking your own birthday cake so your daughter can sing to you’? But what hurts more — this, or seeing your flesh and blood envy her female friends who have their dads in their arms and their mothers content with their families?

The silence of loneliness can sometimes be louder than company.

“Happy birthday! Happy birthday, mama!” your daughter sings, clapping her hands as you blow out your candles in the warm, yet dimly lit, living room. “Come on, come on! Let’s eat the cake!”

With a knife, you cut two slices, one for each of you, and it only takes a few more minutes for both your mouths to be covered in pink frosting, with laughter echoing in the room. The heartache, briefly chased away by the short-lived joy, returns later that night when your daughter snuggles up in your arms in your double bed, which seems to be missing something.

Fuck, being a single mom is tough, you think as you wipe away the tears flooding your cheeks with the back of your hand. No one to support you, all the responsibilities fall on your shoulders, and now doubts about your daughter start invading your mind: “What if she blames you later for not having a father?”, “What if she thinks you’re a bad mom?”, “Do her friends at school say anything about you being the only unmarried woman among all the parents in her class?”

These thoughts have never stopped, not even during your pregnancy, whether about the weight gained or lost, or the changes in your body. Are these regrets? But how could you regret bringing such an angel into the world? Maybe it’s more about the lousy partner who left you the second he found out you were pregnant.

Probably the second option.

“WHERE IS MY SON?!”

A male voice thunders across the entire floor of the company. You jump, turning to one of your colleagues over the small partition set up for employee privacy. “Who’s yelling like that?” you whisper, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I heard it’s the new general manager…”

Your frown deepens. “Is that why they handed me the summary of our sales figures to drop off at the office upstairs?” To prove your point, you lift the massive stack of documents.

Your colleague presses his lips together, his eyes widening in a way that already gives you the answer. “Oh God, you’re the one in charge of that? Good luck. It’s to be delivered to the new director.”

A sigh escapes your lips.

For a start to the workweek, it seems you’re about to face the stormy mood of the new boss, who apparently brought his kid to the office. What a perfect beginning.

As usual, the upper floor is deserted, as it’s generally reserved for executives with direct ties to the company’s CEO. Few people take the elevator to reach the top floor of the skyscraper. Arriving in the lonely hallway, it should be a simple task to knock on the boss’s office door, drop off the elephant-weight stack of documents, and leave.

So why does the sound of running footsteps seem to be getting closer and closer behind you?

In a flash, a man dressed in a navy blue suit rushes past you, bumping your shoulder. He nearly topples the threatening stack of papers, but you manage, at the last second, to catch everything before you lose your balance. The young man opens the door to the women’s restroom, and before entering, he glances over his shoulder.

Never in your life have eyes made such an impression on you.

Two cerulean blue orbs lock onto yours with a mischievous aura. A smirk tugs at the corner of his thin, pink lips. From his pale skin to his albino hair, the man exudes charm and beauty from every pore. The sheer allure of his appearance leaves your brain too stunned to react, numbing it. How can someone be this handsome?

“SATORU!”

His serene and amused expression vanishes instantly, and you jump in response. Replaced by an exaggerated look of fear, he addresses you, “Cover for me. If he asks you, you never saw me!” And his tall, slender body disappears into the women’s restroom.

More footsteps echo down the hallway, this time from a second man, just as tall and physically similar to the young man you just encountered — though slightly older, with wrinkles lining his face and a mix of albino hair and silver from age. You have no time to react except to straighten up against the wall.

His blue eyes, more gray and stern, settle on you as he approaches. “Did you see a man? A tall idiot running around and flirting with any woman he sees,” he grumbles the last part, his eyes thoughtfully fixed on the light carpet.

You shake your head robotically. “No… I—”

“Never mind,” he cuts you off with a dismissive wave of his hand — as if your answer is irrelevant and he’s heard it at least twenty times before. He sighs and scratches at the stubble on his chin. “Who are you, anyway?”

“An employee, sir.” You gesture to the stack of documents that’s beginning to make its weight known in your arms. “I was asked to drop this off in your office.” The tone of your voice almost pleads with him to let you in and relieve you of the annoying burden.

“The report? Ah yes, of course.” You sigh in relief as he unlocks the door with his keys. “I suppose you’re wondering who I am?”

“The new general manager, I guess?” you reply, raising an eyebrow. You drop the heavy stack onto the desk and exhale deeply. “We heard you on every floor.” You can’t help but chuckle at your own remark, offering the director an apologetic smile.

He rolls his eyes, but a light chuckle still rumbles in his chest. “You’re right. It’s because of my son.”

His son?

You repeat the word aloud, confused, and he clarifies. “My son is the new CEO of this company, and I almost regret my decision to give him that position.” He shakes his head, his gaze drifting toward the blue sky visible through the large window, then refocuses on you. “I apologize in advance. He’s going to be a real handful.”

“I understand. I think we’ll manage to put up with him,” you add with a smile.

In the end, this new boss doesn’t seem as strict as your colleagues have been saying, and his story about his son is more amusing than anything. You cough slightly into your elbow and clear your throat, murmuring an apology.

“Are you sick?” the director inquires.

“A little,” you admit reluctantly, feeling embarrassed as you adjust the mask on your face. “Sorry. I couldn’t stay home.”

“No problem.” He crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. “Well, I think I have some work to do. See you later, I suppose.”

You don’t hesitate to leave the boss’s office and quietly step into the women’s restroom. “Is… someone here?” you murmur in a hoarse voice.

The creaking of a door answers you, and the general manager’s son emerges from a stall, looking cautious. He looks like a little boy checking to see if his hiding spot in a game of hide-and-seek has been discovered, which makes you stifle a discreet giggle. He turns to you and offers an apologetic smile. “Sorry about earlier. I didn’t hurt you, did I, sweetheart?”

The nickname catches you off guard, and warmth floods your face. “N-No, I’m fine. You’re the new CEO, right?”

“Satoru Gojo, at your service, pretty girl.” He winks, a reminder that he’s quite the flirt.

You introduce yourself in return, running out of things to say, your hands nervously clasped by your sides.

“Pretty name,” Satoru murmurs. He closes the stall door behind him and exhales, shaking his head. “Phew! That was a close one! Thanks again!” He strides toward the exit with one last charming smile in your direction, leaving the restroom and a lingering scent of cologne behind him.

“Why aren’t you answering?”

“Damn it, you’re so annoying with this!”

“There’s no point in moving every few months, I’m going to find you.”

“For fuck’s sake, answer my messages! I told you I need you! I swear I’ll help you raise Hinata this time.”

“I made a mistake, so let me fix it by answering my fucking messages! I know you’re reading them!”

You swallow hard, your throat tight, and press the “block this contact” button on your phone. It’s the fourth time this month. He’s been harassing you with messages and finding a way to contact you no matter how many numbers he uses, even when you change yours. The same goes for your address, as apparently changing apartments is no longer enough to escape him.

You know he’s in debt — one of the many consequences of his excessive gambling, even when you were still in a relationship with him. Smoking, drinking, and of course, downing tobacco like it was water, only to charm you while hiding this lifestyle to get you into his bed, then fleeing the moment you were pregnant.

So now that he needs a woman and a child to escape his debts, he’s reaching out to you — the woman he abandoned after promising marriage (without a ring, of course), got pregnant, and deserted, only to come crawling back to you.

“Mama? You okay?”

Your daughter’s concerned little voice pulls you out of your daze. The cartoons playing on the TV haven’t had the desired effect — they’re not distracting her from the anxiety that’s been gnawing at you day by day. Maybe today, it’s showing enough for people to notice?

“I’m fine, angel,” you reassure her with a perfect smile — perfectly fake, because that’s something you’ve learned to anchor over time.

You pat the empty spot on the couch next to you, and she nestles under your arm. “If you say so…” Hina murmurs, clutching her worn-out bunny plush.

The state of the plush catches your attention, and a pang of guilt stabs at your heart. What kind of mother lets her daughter carry around a stuffed toy in such poor condition? Maybe you are a bad mother? Otherwise, why would Hina deserve such a pitiful situation? She deserves so much better than you…

“Little angel?” you murmur as she wraps her tiny arms around your waist and nuzzles into your belly. “Are you okay?”

“I love you.”

And the three little words sound… unreal.

Hot tears blur your vision, and it takes every bit of strength you have to whisper back, “I love you too, Hina.”

3:00 PM.

In less than an hour, you’ll need to pick up Hinata from school.

Normally, you avoid lingering at work. You go through your usual routine as an employee, nothing special or fun — a hello, goodbye, see you tomorrow to colleagues without worrying about what’s happening around you or the gossip, even when it involves coworkers getting together.

The only change: now it’s you who gets stuck with the task of delivering all the documents to the general manager. According to one of your peers, he doesn’t seem to be strict or threatening when it comes to you. So this time, you’re tasked with delivering an additional file about the production of a new product on the market to both the CEO and the general manager. For the second time, you head up to the highest floors of the company headquarters to knock on the CEO’s door — it’s the closest. But no one answers.

No surprise, since the director’s son spends his time running through the hallways to avoid his father and shirk his responsibilities, right?

You’re about to knock on the Director’s door, but a familiar gust of wind brushes your face with a soft, fresh breeze. Satoru Gojo appears beside you with a charming smile and glances at what you’re holding.

“H-Hello, sweetheart. How are… you?” he greets, slightly out of breath from yet another chase with his father.

“I’m fine. Here.” You hand him one of the folders, and he takes it, pretending to read it. “The next meeting—” But he grabs the second document and, before you can react, opens the door to his office and casually tosses them inside before shutting the door.

“SATORU GOJO! KEEP IT UP, AND I’LL DISOWN YOU!” The boss’s voice echoes through the entire floor as he appears from behind the emergency exit door. “YOU!” He points a finger at you, standing right next to him. “Still bothering our employees?” He grumbles, his jaw clenched so tightly that you can hear his teeth grinding.

“That’s not true, father!” Satoru protests, feigning outrage. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. “You’re chasing me while I’m just saying hello to my girlfriend?”

You freeze, turning your head toward him, as lost as the Director, who squints his eyes. “Your girlfriend? Since when—”

“I was going to tell you,” Satoru continues, shaking his head, his fingers squeezing your waist while you remain paralyzed. “Here’s my new girlfriend.”

“Are you lying to me and dragging some poor woman into your childish games?”

In the back of your mind, you note that he doesn’t seem to recognize you despite the last time you saw each other.

“What? I’m telling the truth! Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” And he leans in to plant an affectionate kiss on your cheek.

Your heart almost stops for a second. But you quickly snap back to reality under the insistent embrace of his arm and his hand around you. “Y-Yes…”

What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into?

“Well, if you’ll excuse us, father, my darling and I are in a hurry.” He leads you away before you have time to protest and heads toward the elevator with you.

Once the doors close, Satoru takes your hands in his and leans toward you. “I can explain everything.”

If his cerulean blue eyes hadn’t been so persuasive, you would have exploded right there and then to yell at him.

You, the girlfriend of the CEO of the company you work for? Did this really have to happen to you? You can already picture your termination letter under your nose as you exit the back of the building. A glance at your watch tells you that if you don’t hurry, you’ll be late to pick up your daughter.

“You’re in a rush?”

“I have to pick up my daughter before I’m late,” you reply curtly, “and look at the mess I’m in now!”

“I know, I know…” Satoru rubs the back of his head, right where his immaculate undercut is. “Maybe I can explain on the way? Where’s your car?” He looks around the parking lot, his eyes searching.

The question — however mundane — makes you blush with embarrassment. “I… take public transportation…” you mumble, pouting.

He furrows his brow, as if you just admitted to showering with maggot-infested soap. “Excuse me? I don’t take public transportation.”

“Well, I do.” A hint of defiance returns to protect your pride.

How could he possibly understand when he lives like a rich man, without worrying about grocery shopping, paying bills, and of course, taking public transportation during the week to avoid wasting gas because it costs an arm and a leg! But for him, that must not be part of his daily life, especially since he’s one of society’s privileged.

“Let’s take my car then.” He says this without waiting for you, as you remain standing there. He pulls out his keys and opens the passenger door. “What are you waiting for?”

“But— I— Are you out of your mind?” you burst out. “I’m not getting in that car! I’m supposed to pick up my daughter, and now I’m pretending to be your girlfriend! In front of your father!” You emphasize your words with wild, energetic gestures.

He bursts out laughing.

Cute.

“No chance. We’re going to pick up your daughter and clear this all up. And please, stop refusing to get into a car that’s way better than those buses that reek of sweat.” He rolls his eyes, and you note how much he resembles his father when he does that.

“I have an errand to run anyway,” you persist.

“And that doesn’t change the fact that I want you to get in this car,” Satoru chuckles.

Taking a closer look, the car is as luxurious as the ones you dream about at night — yours, by comparison, looks like a junk heap ready for the scrapyard. Reluctantly, you climb in, Satoru’s chivalrous demeanor not going unnoticed as he snickers at your surrender. He quickly gets in, asks for the address of the school, and sets off after starting his car, which smells just as good as he does. You feel like a piece of trash in the middle of this little universe he inhabits.

“My father bugs me every day to find a woman,” Satoru murmurs at first, one hand resting on his thigh, clad in business suit trousers, his eyes fixed on the road over his round sunglasses. “That’s one of the reasons I avoid him.”

“And why involve me?” you snap back.

“Well, to be honest, it was partly impulsive. I met you the other day, and then, in the moment, I just wanted my father to leave me alone.” He has a half-smile that makes you swallow hard, and he gives you a knowing look before returning to a serious expression. “I’m sorry for dragging you into all this.” A pause. “I just hope you’re not married, otherwise—”

“No, I— No.” You close your eyes for a moment, the innocent question burning like a fiery arrow piercing your already aching heart. Did you just hear a sigh of relief? “And your father doesn’t seem to have recognized me since the other day,” you can’t help but point out.

“The mask.” Satoru grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. “He didn’t recognize you because of that. He’s always had a bad memory and poor eyesight.”

“But you recognized me.” You focus on the road’s scenery to avoid confronting his mesmerizing eyes. “I’m not going to wear my mask forever, you know? And I don’t want to keep pretending—”

“Please,” Satoru whispers, placing a hand on yours, sending a shiver down your spine. “Just until he and my family get off my back.”

“I’m sorry, but—”

“How much do you want?” He asks immediately, as if he just remembered something.

“What? No! I don’t want your money!” you protest as quickly as he did. “No, I…” And you groan, sinking into your seat.

Holy shit!

“What have I gotten myself into, seriously…” you moan, crossing your arms over your chest, a grimace distorting your features.

“Please. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’ll do everything to make it just a minor detail… I’m only asking you to change your name in front of my father when you pass as my girlfriend, wear a mask, and change your hairstyle at work — if we want to avoid suspicion. He won’t suspect a thing, I swear.” He pulls into the school parking lot and parks quietly.

Thoughts bombard your already exhausted mind, and you massage your temples. Why does this have to happen to you and no one else?

Satoru murmurs your name, making you lift your head. “It will only be a few family events, just for appearances, nothing more. I won’t bother you any further.”

You sigh, and the sound of the bell signaling the end of classes rings out. “I need to think about it. Thanks for the ride. Have a nice—”

“Come back. I’ll take you home,” Satoru suggests, pressing the button to unlock your door.

What’s the point of refusing?

You nod, finally getting out of the car to go pick up your daughter, who runs toward you as soon as you reach the gate.

"Mama!" She jumps into your arms.

You return her embrace, heading towards Satoru’s car. “Did you have a good day?”

“So much fun! I made you a drawing!” She’s practically bouncing as you reach the car.

Noticing your daughter’s confused look, you clear your throat. “Uh… A-A friend of mine is giving us a ride home, okay?” She blinks innocently and waits for you to open the car door, which is almost as tall as she is. Hinata gets in as you do, and you cough slightly. “This is Gojo. My friend.”

“Hello, princess.” Satoru turns his head over his shoulder with a big smile. “What’s your name?”

“Hinata,” she replies, her legs gently swinging.

“Very pretty.”

“Thank you.” She blushes and tries to hide a smile.

On the way, you try to fill the awkward silences with small talk until you arrive at the supermarket.

You had promised to buy Hinata a new stuffed animal since last night after spending hours worrying that you weren’t being a good mother. Again.

“That one!” Hinata almost runs towards a bunny plushie that’s twice the size of her head. She grabs it with her little arms and gives it a hug.

Satoru and you reach the aisle, and out of habit, you check the price under the albino’s watchful eye. Your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when you see the amount, and you place a trembling hand on Hina’s shoulder. “Angel, I think it’s—”

“…Perfect,” Satoru finishes, his large hands taking the plushie from your daughter’s tight embrace to check the price tag with its shocking number. “Do you like it, little one?” he asks, looking down at her.

Hina nods energetically. “Yeah!”

“Then we’ll take it.” Satoru hands the plushie back to her and turns towards the checkout lane, already reaching into one of his pockets for what looks like… a wallet.

You react immediately, your hands finding their way around his arm. He doesn’t push you away at all and even smiles at the contact. “Gojo… No.”

“It’s Satoru to you, sweetheart,” he whispers gently. “And why not? It’s just a stuffed animal,” he scoffs. He takes Hinata’s hand so she can place the plushie on the conveyor belt.

“No, it’s not nothing to me,” you persist through clenched teeth, embarrassed that the cashier might be paying attention to your conversation.

Satoru shrugs. The cashier scans the plushie, and he uses contactless payment to pay for it. With your hands still around his arm, he places one of his on top, an intimate closeness.

“I could get used to this,” he murmurs near your ear, making you turn beet red. But he can’t continue as your daughter clings to Satoru’s leg like a koala, showering him with a thousand thank-yous for the gift. “You’re welcome, little one.” His hand gently ruffles her hair. He grins, now turning back to you. “It’s on me. You don’t owe me anything.”

Your discreet protests, so Hinata doesn’t suspect anything, come to an end when he drops both of you off in front of your home. Hinata commented that Satoru’s car looked like the one from the movie Barbie: Princess Charm School she had seen recently. He unlocks the doors as you get out of the car. Satoru’s hand catches yours, slipping a piece of cardstock into it. His contact details are on it.

“Just in case,” he mouths silently.

Nevertheless, you slip the business card into your pocket and respond just before closing the door, “I accept.”

“And no funny business, okay? Never run in the hallways, if he tells you to wait, don’t move an inch, and—” You stop yourself as you notice your daughter is more interested in admiring the elegant decorations of the office hallways with wide, doe-like eyes and an adorable, slightly open mouth.

To your great misfortune, Hinata’s preschool is on strike for a while — which means almost all the teachers are absent. So how do you take care of your daughter when you can’t afford to miss work? By bringing her to your fake boyfriend’s office, of course! You quickly make your way toward Satoru’s office, Hinata following with her hand in yours. But just as you raise your fist to knock on his door, two large hands land on your shoulders, nearly scaring the life out of you.

“Hey, hey!” You whip around abruptly, a new mask on your face — just as the plan intended.

“Satoru…” you grit through your teeth. Hinata looks up at him and grins. You sigh.

“What do I owe the pleasure of all this lovely company?” Satoru asks, not taking his eyes off yours while giving Hinata a high-five.

As usual, he’s dressed in a luxurious suit — probably worth the rent of the apartment you live in — his slightly tousled albino hair and the familiar scent of cologne filling your nostrils. You catch yourself staring a little too long, and mentally kick yourself when his curious gaze turns mischievous.

He just realized you were checking him out, damn it!

“Hinata’s school is on strike. I need you to watch her for the day, if that’s not a problem, and since you seemed so insistent on returning the favor I’m doing for you…” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. “I see you’re spending your day roaming the offices rather than staying in yours…”

“No problem at all,” Satoru replies automatically, a pleased smile on his lips. “Ready to go to the CEO’s office?” He picks up Hina, who giggles and clings to him like a koala.

It’s your turn to smile in relief. “Thank you so much. I have a meeting with your father in an hour, and I’ll come get her at noon and again at the end of the day.” The sight of the two of them close together makes your heart melt — and for once, you don’t blame yourself for seeing Hinata happy to be with someone else.

5:00 PM.

You’ve sent a message to Satoru asking where he was, since knocking on his perpetually empty office seems to be pointless. The meeting with the other company members about organizing the launch of a new product was particularly painful, but one thing is certain: the general manager didn’t recognize you with your more subdued hairstyle and the mask plastered on your face.

“Come to the parking lot like last time.”

And that’s the last message from Satoru (you gave him your number during lunch).

In the empty parking lot, only Satoru’s car is present, and you cast a curious glance through the windows. The two troublemakers give you a grimace — tongues sticking out and faces scrunched up. You sigh as the passenger door opens automatically.

“Satoru, you don’t have to—”

“Hina said yes and that she wants to come to my place,” Satoru cuts in with a mocking expression.

Reluctantly, you get in, your heart pounding in your chest with all sorts of panicked thoughts. However, Satoru doesn’t seem to share your reservations and starts driving as soon as you’re settled.

“So, this means you’re coming to my place,” he says, hands on the wheel and a quick glance in the rearview mirror, “and I’m inviting you to dinner.”

“No—”

“Mom! Please, Satoru is being too nice.” Hinata complains. You glance back, and she looks at you with wounded, pleading puppy eyes, arms crossed over her chest.

You grumble, slumping back against your seat as they both cheer in victory.

“By the way, I’m stopping by your place so you can pack. We’re invited to a family wedding, and my father invited us.”

“WHAT?”

You place a box with your gift on the designated table for presents, and an arm wraps around your waist. “You look stunning,” Satoru murmurs against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, which breaks out in goosebumps.

With a flushed face, you turn your head. “Satoru…”

“What? Just because we’re pretending to be a couple and barely know each other doesn’t mean I can’t speak the truth.” He pauses. “Well, actually, we do know each other a bit, don’t we? We’ve had dinner together.” He chuckles at your half-grimacing, half-deadpan expression, pulling you closer as music fills the wedding reception hall.

You turn your head along with him toward the back of the room, where the bride’s bouquet is about to be thrown. A tight smile curves your lips — this is one thing you’ve dreamed of. Dreams have always been just that — dreams in your life, and even when love comes knocking at your door, it’s only passing through, just like your situation with Satoru.

His father didn’t notice anything, and since Satoru lives alone in a villa, it’s hard to say no when he offered for you to stay with him until he’s settled, with your own room and a staff available 24/7. He even had a tailor make a custom dress for the wedding you were both invited to. Hinata is looked after by a lovely nurse, and you’re enjoying a life you’ve always dreamed of. So why not make the most of it despite your past?

A Satoru who’s too comfortable with you isn’t so bothersome given the time you’ve spent together lately — both at the office, acting as a couple in front of certain people, and sometimes showing affection to each other to appear believable, even though they haven’t asked for kisses yet, so—

A fluffy and soft object lands right in the middle of your face and falls into your arms. You search for what seems to be a petal in your mouth and suck in your breath at what you realize it is.

The bride’s bouquet.

A gulp forces its way down your throat as the whole room applauds because… you’ve been hit in the face with the bouquet? Not to mention the lamentations of other female cousins who had jumped with all their hopes to catch it… But why you, who hadn’t asked for anything?

“Sweetheart?” Satoru mutters, his chest still pressed against your back. His tone is so sweet, nonchalant, as if you’ve been a couple for years. “My father is watching us, and I think he’s expecting me to do something.”

You swallow and nod, dreading what might happen next. Will your heart stop beating when Satoru says:

“May I kiss you?”

Never, ever, has anyone asked you that question. Not even your ex.

So, with a nervous nod, you allow him to capture your lips in a soft, languid kiss. His tender lips taste like the cotton candy children eat at the fair. They cherish yours with every movement (which you can’t help but return in kind). Each press sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

When the kiss ends, Satoru places one last kiss on the corner of your lips and clears his throat. “This is the first time I’ve wanted to marry my girlfriend.” His warm breath ignites your body.

Has your heart exploded?

If not, why can’t you breathe?

“Awww… How adorable you are with your pretty girlfriend, Satoru!”

An elderly woman approaches you both, supported by her old cane, and you note her albino hair, similar to Satoru’s.

“My dear aunt…” Satoru smiles widely without breaking away from you.

“You make a lovely couple,” Aunt Gojo continues, giving you a wise look.

“Oh, thank you.” You immediately bow and introduce yourself. Satoru’s hands squeeze your waist, and he chuckles at your manners.

“Take good care of her, you idiot,” the aunt finishes before drifting away, a tap of her cane on Satoru’s head making him sigh and rub his sore skull.

“Well, at least we look convincing, right?” he adds.

“Yes…”

Of course, he said that because he saw his aunt before you! Don’t think he said it because he meant it or—

“By the way,” Satoru takes your hand in his and leads you to the center of the dance floor, “I meant what I said before my aunt interrupted us.”

And you’re at a loss on how to interpret his playful wink.

“WOW! Hinata, you’re so rich!”

“Is this your dad’s castle?”

Hinata takes Satoru’s hand and faces her friends in his chic living room. “It’s my daddy’s!” She nods proudly and runs off with them toward the games and festivities organized for her birthday. The children run everywhere, scream, and burst into laughter throughout the room. The perfect atmosphere.

It’s exactly what you’ve always dreamed of giving Hina.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you murmur to Satoru, who, despite your comment, shakes his head joyfully.

“I’m glad she likes it,” he replies.

“I wasn’t talking about the party.”

He freezes and turns his head toward you. “Didn’t you tell me you’d never been married?” he dares to whisper, possibly afraid of hurting you.

“That’s true. My ex left after learning I was pregnant with Hinata.” You exhale the breath you’ve been holding, the weight of the secret finally lifted.

Maybe he won’t want to keep pretending to be your boyfriend after this…

“You can still tell me his name, you know, sweetheart?” Satoru moves closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist, as if it’s completely natural for him, but there’s a tension in his touch. “I can take care of him and—”

You shake your head to dispel the tiny bit of resentment that’s urging you to say yes. “It’s okay. Thanks for agreeing to pretend to be her father. I know it’s going to be a bit of a hassle for a while, but she cares a lot—”

“Nuh-uh.” He places a kiss on your cheek, then another on the side of your neck, causing you to shiver. “She’s already talked about it in my office.”

You open your eyes wide. “What…?”

“Hinata likes you much more than you think… You’ve suffered too much,” His other hand glides over your stomach, and his thumb traces affectionate circles on your waist.

“Thank you,” you breathe, leaning into his touch. And for a moment, the weight on your shoulders completely lifts. “We haven’t had the best birthdays recently, so I’m happy to see Hinata get what she wants.” Your eyes rest on your daughter, dressed as a fairy, waving her glittery wand at one of her friends dressed as a witch. “So, thank you for everything.”

“No need to thank me, sweetheart. But which birthday are you talking about? Yours? When was it?”

Embarrassed, your mouth feels dry. “...A while ago.”

Satoru pulls you tightly against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you, his nose buried in your hair. “You’re such a strong woman… I can take care of you if you want. You and Hina will live like princesses, and if you want to sleep with her or have your own room, that’s no problem for me.”

“What? No, Satoru, you’re joking…”

“I’m not joking,” he insists, his gaze diving into yours — and for a second, sincerity fills his cerulean eyes.

With your mouth slightly open, you whisper, “We barely know each other, and—”

“Mama! Papa! We need to break the piñata!” Hinata rushes over to you, not paying any attention to how close you are to Satoru, and grabs each of your hands.

“Yes, angel, we’re coming,” you respond to your daughter with a weary smile, before glancing at Satoru, who is no longer looking in your direction.

Why are his ears so red?

You place the last birthday decoration box in a corner of the living room as Satoru asked and straighten up with a grimace from your aching back. “Geez…”

The upper floor of the huge house is strangely quiet, and you furrow your brows. Could they have gone downstairs?

“Hinata? Satoru?” you call out as you walk through the hallways.

The evening darkness makes it hard to see clearly, and only the faint beam of light escaping from the kitchen door guides you.

“Are you there?” you ask, gently pushing the door open, and what you find leaves you stunned.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” the two of them exclaim, holding an enormous cake between them.

A few candles illuminate the underside of their beaming faces, party hats perched on their heads. The kitchen is a huge mess, counters covered in flour and frosting, and dishes overflow from the sink, threatening to topple over.

You stand speechless as they continue to sing your birthday song. Your nostrils and eyes start to itch strangely. Why is your vision suddenly blurring? It looks like transparent waves just above your lower lashes, threatening to overflow if you dare to blink. Yet, you can’t escape it.

Not when they set the cake on the table and pull you into a hug while your nose runs, tears roll down your cheeks, and your choked-up throat is on the verge of bursting into sobs. Satoru keeps kissing your hair, never stopping for a second to comfort you with sweet and reassuring words, his hand drawing circles on your back. Hinata wipes your tears while her own roll down her little cheeks.

Seeing you cry has always been contagious for her.

The moment gives you a glimpse of what your life would be like if you had a complete family, and Satoru’s words echo in your mind. How could he be so perfect in just a few weeks of knowing him?

Once the emotion passes, a few minutes later, you eat your birthday cake with laughter and cheer, accompanied not just by the one person who now means everything to you, but by both.

“Watch out, Hina. You have applesauce on your chin,” Satoru chuckles, his hand grabbing a napkin to wipe the excess food around the child’s mouth.

The heartwarming scene makes your heart swell. You definitely don’t regret going out with Satoru and Hinata to have a meal at a chic terrace in their company. The family atmosphere finally gives you a glimpse of the life you’ve always hoped to live. Hinata growing up with a loving father and mother, and you, loved and supported by an ideal partner. Why not reconsider Satoru’s proposal, then? He’s the first man to think of you, even after your birthday had passed some time ago.

“I’m going to the restroom,” you murmur to Satoru, who nods in response, a wry smile curling his pink lips.

But why did it have to be on this day that a man finally approaches the two people you care about just as you slip away? He clearly waited from afar for you to let your guard down around your daughter so he could show up right in the middle of the table, facing a little girl — his daughter, technically — next to a man who isn’t her father.

Satoru slowly raises his head toward him, brows furrowed and wary. “Can I help you?”

Your ex says your name. “Where is she?” he mimics asking as if he didn’t know.

“What do you want with her?”

“To talk to her. I have the right. And you’re with my daughter, just so you know.” He crosses his arms over his chest, trying to appear threatening, but Satoru remains stoic, more contemptuous than anything else in the face of such a scruffy, unshaven nuisance.

“She’s not here; you can leave,” Satoru responds. And out of protective instinct, he pulls Hinata’s chair closer to him, his eyes narrowed. Satoru understands perfectly that your ex is back to claim his rights over his daughter, just as he’s been harassing you with messages about it.

“Excuse me? When my daughter is in the arms of a stranger? I could call the police immediately and we’ll sort this out very quickly,” your ex retorts sharply. He takes a step toward a lost Hinata, her big doe eyes blinking innocently between the two men. Of course, she doesn’t recognize him.

An altercation begins between the two, which naturally attracts the attention of other diners around. And you walk into the middle of the scene, frozen in shock at the sight of your ex hurling threats at Satoru.

“She’s taking my daughter, so I’m taking her back! And it’s not a bastard like you who’s going to help her regain my rights!” your ex spits with venom. His icy eyes find yours, terrified, your hands trembling and your complexion as pale as a sheet. He’s about to address you with the same angry speech, his face flushed with rage and a vein ready to burst at his temple.

Do you get déjà vu?

“‘Your daughter’?” Satoru repeats with a deadly gaze and a jaw quivering with rage. “She’s been sitting next to me for over an hour, I’ve been feeding her for over an hour, she’s been calling me by my name for over an hour, and you’re talking about ‘your daughter’? At this point, whose daughter is she... yours or mine?”

Your ex, publicly humiliated, opens his eyes wide with hatred. “You little son of—”

“Sir, we ask that you leave the terrace; you’re disturbing our customers,” a security guard declares firmly. He’s accompanied by another colleague, and when your ex protests, they grab him by the arm and escort him away amidst his shouting and the murmurs of other customers who keep staring at the three of you.

You move closer to Satoru, who immediately stands up upon seeing you — having not realized you were there — and can only offer you an apologetic look. “Let’s go,” you silently mouth (your throat too tight to dare let a sound escape, fearing it might break before you say anything), taking the hand of a silent and lost Hinata. “I’ll pay the bill and—”

“It’s already taken care of; we can go,” Satoru gently interrupts, following you to his car.

And it’s on the silent drive back that you realize something.

You’ve officially fallen in love with Satoru Gojo.

“Look, Mom, Dad and I made a drawing for you!” Hinata proudly holds up a colorful picture with three easily recognizable characters on it.

“Did you brush your teeth?” you ask as you take the drawing to admire it, just as much smiling as your daughter. She nods and then does a little twirl to show off her new pajamas that Satoru gave her earlier in the day. “It’s beautiful. You’re so talented,” you chuckle, leaning in to plant a kiss on her cheek.

Satoru appears in the doorway of Hinata’s room, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest, a perpetual playful smile curving his lips. “Ready to go to sleep?”

“Yes, and I showed our drawing to mama,” Hinata asserts, bouncing on her bed.

“Oh yeah? Did mama like it?” Satoru asks softly, his eyes now locked with yours.

“Mama loved it and thanks Daddy,” you whisper, your voice quivering with emotion that threatens to spill over.

Half an hour later, Satoru and you find yourselves in the hallway with a sleeping Hinata and her little lullaby snores.

Satoru wraps his arm around your waist as usual and buries his face in your neck. Your heart is already racing, and your breath catches when he says, “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” The embrace is a simple hug but with unspoken words easily guessed.

“For everything.” Satoru sighs, and for a split second, you hope he’ll let you speak, but no. “I didn’t mean to make a scene and—”

“And you think I’m going to blame you for protecting us? That I wasn’t touched by what you said about Hina?” you mumble near his ear. The closeness gives you another chance to see his ears turn red. “Is Satoru shy?” you giggle, open to teasing. He hums, hiding his face so you don’t see his expression.

“I love you.”

You blink, because you must have heard wrong. “Huh?”

“Marry me.” And he’s already on his knees before you, eyes pleading. That usually confident cerulean blue is now so submissive, so close at hand… But the sudden turn of events leaves you stunned. “I want to be your husband, not just have you as my wife. I want to raise Hina with you and give you everything you need.” Not letting himself be distracted by your stunned expression, he continues, “Want my money? I’ll give it to you. My house? It will be in your name. Want my body? It belongs to you. My heart? It’s already yours.” And he starts kissing the backs of your hands desperately. “I love you, I love you… Please, marry me…”

“Satoru… You—” you stammer, backing away, your brow furrowed. Everything is a jumble in your head, both from his touching declaration but also because it’s all moving too fast for you. “You… love me?” you manage to whisper.

He crawls to you and wraps his large arms around your thighs, almost choking with desperation. “I fell in love with you as soon as I saw you, as soon as you covered me from my father, as soon as I heard your laugh, saw the amazing mother you are, and realized I never wanted you to leave this house.” He whispers your name like a divine invocation. “I’ve fallen in love with you more than just once.”

You don’t immediately respond, and that’s okay in his eyes. He doesn’t want to pressure you, just for you to know the truth and for him to be completely transparent with you.

“It’s okay if you don’t share my feelings; I just want you to know that—” But he’s cut off by your rush toward him on the floor as you press your lips to his, pulling him into the dance of your lips that one gives to the other in a long, passionate kiss. “God… I love you so much…”

“I love you too, Satoru,” you murmur against his mouth between kisses that turn into moans as he slides his warm, wet tongue between your lips to request access to your mouth.

Both of your breaths become ragged and heavy. Satoru takes the opportunity to lift you by the underside of your thighs and lead you to his bedroom, carefully closing the door behind him without breaking the contact of your swollen, desirous lips. He gently lays you on the king-size bed with silver satin and frost-blue sheets.

With a tenderness of loving slowness, Satoru breaks the kiss. “Do you want to continue?” he asks, his voice husky. You nod timidly, but he shakes his head with his mischievous smile — finally back. “Nuh-uh. Your words, sweetheart.”

“I want it, Satoru,” you reply after a sigh of exasperation so adorable in his eyes that it makes him laugh, then he places a light kiss on the corner of your lips.

“Alright… Gonna take care of my beautiful girl, the best, the most wonderful mother, and maybe future wife—” He places a finger on your lips. “Oh no, you’ll answer that later if you want, when I have something concrete for that occasion.”

You sigh in frustration because the answer is already on the tip of your tongue, but it soon turns into a moan as he kisses the side of your neck with such deliberate slowness that you really wonder if he’s going to tease you to the limit. His hands roam over your clothed chest, exploring your already hardened nipples. His lips find their way to your collarbone, marking it with love bites and hickeys that elicit muffled moans from you.

“If you knew how long I’ve dreamed of doing this…” Satoru comments with a touch of affection, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons of your shirt. “Exactly how I would act with my wife—”

“And your father?” And he chuckles again.

“We don’t care about him.” He casually tosses your top aside to tease your sensitive, erect nipples through the fabric with his thumbs. “Such humble underwear… Would you like me to buy you something more daring?” he purrs, pulling on a strap to snap it against your gooseflesh-covered skin.

“Would you do that?” You bring your lips to his, and he immediately responds to the kiss. You also remove his black turtleneck sweater to reveal his toned, muscular torso. An adventurous hand glides over his chest, making him groan slightly, and then stops at his lower abdomen where a vein runs lower down. You place a kiss there with a small, sly smile.

For the first time, you’re about to make love with someone.

“Hmm? Satoru? Have you ever thought of me in outfits like this?” Your nimble fingers unbutton his pants, revealing a prominent bulge in his fly.

“Sweetheart, don’t—” he hisses between his teeth from the sensation of the slight friction between his erection and your eager fingers as they pull down his pants to caress and rub his dick through the thin fabric of his boxer. “Your hands feel so good…” He breathes softly, his hands stroking your bare arms with a feather-light touch.

“Answer my question…” you purr, your nails pulling at the underwear to free his hard, twitching cock. The tip is perfectly reddened, with veins coursing along its pale length of 8 inches. Almost automatically, your mouth waters, and you waste no time kissing the slit of his already glistening tip with pre.

“Babe, don’t tease…” Satoru closes his eyes and lets your hand wrap around his length, begging to be touched. “F-fuck— Yes, yes, I’ve thought about it, about buying you the most expensive and luxurious lingerie— ah!” he almost whimpers. You take a little over 2 inches of him into your mouth to stroke the base. “But also in those maternity clothes— oh god… C-can you really blame me?” He rolls his eyes and can’t help but buck his hips toward you, his body pleading for your mouth to take care of him.

You withdraw his cock from your mouth to whisper, “So you’re a naughty boy, hmm?”

“I won’t last if you keep this up— hgnn…” he whimpers completely, his dick splitting your mouth in two as you take him all in. Your head starts to bob back and forth, and he is so close that he spills moans of your name. “G’nna cum, baby, don’t—”

You hollow your cheeks, and the next moment, he cums in your mouth, long, thick ropes of his release filling your already full mouth with his shaft. You hum under his orgasm and swallow slowly. You slide his dick out of your mouth with the same rhythm to smile at a Satoru with ears as red as his cheeks.

“F-fuck, sweetheart,” he pants, his calloused finger wiping away the mixed cord of your saliva and his cum with a swipe of his thumb.

“M-hmm… You taste so sweet…” He doesn’t let you continue and crushes his lips against yours, tasting himself on your mouth. “I want you, Satoru…”

“I’m yours, princess.” He helps you quickly remove your remaining underwear so that you’re completely naked in front of him, knees resting on the expensive mattress. He kneels at the foot of the bed, and his fingers explore your sensitive, already dripping cunt.

“So wet for me… Did I do this to you just with my cock?” His fingers spread your swollen folds to gather your fluids and rub your throbbing, needy clit.

Your nails dig into his arm as you lift your hips under the sharp pleasure. “Satoru, it feels good…” you gasp in a whimper. His forefinger and middle finger spread your wetness all around your intimacy. “Please don’t tease…”

“Not tease? Weren’t you doing it, sweetheart? What a nerve,” Satoru scoffs, tapping his finger at your entrance. “Can I?”

“Please…” You wince as you move your hips down for more. And that’s exactly what he does, immediately inserting his finger into you, cursing.

“You’re so fucking tight… and so wet,” he curses, his finger moving in and out of you with careful softness. “I can already fuck you without making you cum first.” He stops finger-fucking you and looks up at you. “Is that what you want, love?”

You nod before arching your back on the bed. Satoru climbs onto the mattress and helps you wrap your legs around him. “That’s it…” He takes his length in his hand and teases your responsive cunt with the tip to get it wetter.

“Don’t tease, Toru, I swear…” And he smirks.

“Toru?”

“Sorry, I—”

His tip presses against your tight, pulsing entrance, and he grins. “I want you to moan that nickname while I fuck you, ’kay?” He grips your hips to pull you closer to him, and with one swift movement, he slides into you, a groan escaping from behind his lips as your deliciously tight, warm, gummy walls wrap around him as if you were meant for him.

The stretch causes a slight discomfort at first, and you almost cry in relief when Satoru notices. He patiently waits for you to adjust before starting a slow, deep rhythm inside you.

You widen your lustful eyes, tears forming at their corners. “Ah! Toru… Jus’ like that…” Your eyes roll back as the tip of Satoru’s dick hits the back of your cervix, making you shiver and tighten around him. “Fuck… s’deep…”

“So fucking perfect, so fucking mine,” Satoru groans, his hips rocking into you without ceasing to swell between your gummy walls. His chest rises and falls in a breath as ragged as yours, asking for more every time you moan for him to go deeper. (He discreetly rolls his eyes and babbles incomprehensible words — completely pussy drunk.)

And that’s exactly what he does. He slams back in brutally, making you cry out his name with each thrust. “Shhh… You don’t want Hina to hear us, right? So keep quiet, baby…” He helps stifle your gasps and moans of pleasure by capturing your lips with his, alternating between fast, rough thrusts and slow, gentle ones in your hole that he fucks shamelessly.

Blood rushes to your ears, a rare sensation you haven’t truly felt the last time you were with someone. It wasn’t just about carnal pleasure between Satoru and you — but about love. The fusion of bodies loving each other and providing mutual pleasure, even as they burn for each other— physically and emotionally.

One of Satoru’s hands slowly slides to one of your breasts and teases a sensitive nipple. The arch in your back encourages him to detach his mouth from yours to capture the other nipple with his wet lips. The growl he lets out sends a wave of intense shivers through you, making your eyes roll in overstimulation.

“P-please, Toru, please, I’m already close,” you whimper against your trembling palm — a feeble attempt to contain your sweet sounds as he speeds up his hip movements in your sloppy cunt — the sound of his balls slapping your skin filling the room. Your words are punctuated by the tightening of your walls around him, swearing he could cum inside you just from hearing you beg.

“Cum on my cock, baby, cover it,” he coos, giving another kiss to your abused chest. The clenching of your jaw with your teeth dug into your lower lip forces you to groan. “Want me to fill you up?” And you nod, tears showing your imminent orgasm. “Anything for you, my beautiful girl.” His hips slam against yours, and his fingers continue to tease your breast, rubbing your puffy clit.

Satoru’s own breath becomes heavier, more labored as he keeps singing praises while you gasp, his lips pressed along the line of kisses he’s placing down your jaw. “T-Toru, Toru, cumming!” you cry out as your walls spasm around his cock while he reaches his peak and fills you with his hot, liquid release, warming your lower abdomen. You see blinding stars illuminating your vision.

He hisses almost gutturally, his nails digging into the flesh of your hips. “Oh god… S-Squeezing me while I’m cumming too…” He closes his eyes for a moment, letting his peak subside at the same rhythm as yours, his forehead damp with sweat resting against your chest. 

Only pants and groans escape your lips, each one accompanied by difficult swallows and the feeling of your sweaty bodies pressed against each other.

“How was it? Did I make you feel good?” Satoru asks immediately, once his breath has returned.

The concerned questions touch your heart so deeply that you lift tearful eyes to him. “Are you going to leave, after this?”

His expression falters, and he gently withdraws from you to envelop you in his embrace. “No, baby, of course not… I won’t, I swear on my life I won’t leave you… I’m not him. I’m the one who hopes you won’t leave…” he whispers hurriedly. “Don’t think about that. I’ll always be here, for you and for Hina…”

You sniffle, your eyes red. But Satoru smiles tenderly, wiping away your hot tears. “Save your tears for later, sweetheart.”

“Why?” You clear your throat.

He sighs, the aftermath of the effort from the activity settling on him, and places a chaste kiss on your sweaty temple. “Did I tell you that my father invited us to dinner tomorrow night?”

“No,” you shake your head, “but what’s the link?”

“Don’t you understand?” he murmurs in your ear, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll understand in time.”

“I see. So it was an unexpected encounter.” Gojo’s father nods, shrugging his shoulders. “But I wonder how a woman like you can have feelings for such a fool…”

Satoru chokes on a piece of meat he’s chewing and takes a sip of his water. You stifle a giggle, with some steamed vegetables speared on your fork, just waiting for you to devour them. For a man who appears so stern and strict, Mr. Gojo is quite a wealthy man who spends his days reprimanding his son for not doing this or that.

Yet, there’s a certain paternal camaraderie between them — a father-son relationship, if you will.

“That’s not true,” Satoru retorts, his voice still gravelly. He has an adorable pout on his lips, like a child wrongly scolded.

“Yes, like you’re not a womanizer,” his father retorts, rolling his eyes.

“It was so you’d leave me alone,” with furrowed brows, he wears a mischievous smile at his father’s incredulous expression, “but sweetheart came into my life,” he continues, looking at you with a tenderness he has rarely shown.

“I hope you manage to put up with him until… well, until you decide to marry — if that’s what you choose,” his father sighs, turning his attention back to the dish in front of him.

“Satoru isn’t a bad person, you know,” you start gently. “He is certainly a thoughtless brat with grotesque immaturity,” Satoru almost spits out his water this time, and you continue with a wry smile, “but he has a great sense of attention and unmatched generosity. I believe he will be a good husband, I assure you.”

“I must admit,” he says with a wise smile, his wrinkles less pronounced.

Satoru casually says your name, “Yeah, yeah… By the way, could you pass me the salt, please?”

You freeze, while Satoru’s father suddenly looks up with an incredulous expression. “Who?”

And you smack your forehead with the palm of your hand.

The cries of a newborn fill the room as, breathless and on the verge of fainting, the midwives congratulate you, bringing your second child wrapped in clean blankets at your request.

“He’s beautiful…” Satoru murmurs as he approaches you, leaning down to the tiny baby with his albino hair and blue eyes — his exact likeness. “Thank you, my love, thank you, thank you, thank you…” His voice breaks as you raise a weak, exhausted hand toward him, but with a serene smile on your lips as you whisper how much you love each other.

He immediately wraps his fingers around yours, your wedding rings sparkling as they brush together like stars sealed for eternity.

a/n: how i love desperate men, hihi! 🤭 hope you all enjoyed this one-shot!

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobees @drippymcdrippison