madysenvv

[madysenvv]

୨୧ — The divorce papers had been signed that afternoon, three years of marriage reduced to legal documents and a splitting of assets… That’s how Nanami found himself at the local bar, liquid amber burning down his throat, tie loosened, the weight of his wedding ring suddenly unbearable… 

Then you walked in.

Twenty-one, maybe twenty-two. College girl written in the innocent tilt of your yellow sundress, the way it clings to your waist, your breasts, the hem flirtatiously brushing against your thighs.

You look so sweet, he thought. A drink like the ones the men were buying you would surely corrupt your pretty mouth, but you sipped with an ease that spoke of experience, even when you cringe at the taste, making the guys around you laugh. 

It made him think about his wife -his ex wife now- the last time they made love, when she bit her lips to hold back a moan, as if afraid someone might hear. He wondered what noises you would make if you were on top of him, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrust up into your tight pussy. 

Would you call out his name? Moan like a whore? Would you beg him to go harder? Deeper? Or would you be shy, too embarrassed to ask for what you really wanted, forcing him to take what he wants, making you take it?

He shook his head and knocked back the rest of his whiskey, trying to clear his mind. You were far too young, far too innocent... Nanami looked away... He had no right to feel this way about a female he didn't know, a girl that had her whole life ahead of her.

You ordered something sweet and fruity while he nursed his drink, watching the way you tucked your hair behind your ear. And then, your eyes met his.

He doesn't remember buying you drinks. Doesn't remember the conversation that led to your hand on his thigh, your breath wine-sweet against his ear as you whispered, "I know somewhere quiet."

But he remembers his Lexus. God, he'll never forget the damn Lexus. 

"Fuck-" The word tears from his throat as you sink down onto him, your tight cunt splitty open around his cock like you were made for this moment. The leather seats creak beneath you both, divorce papers scattered on the floor like confetti celebrating his rebirth.

You were so goddamn young, so wet, so eager- everything his ex wife hadn't been in years, and my god... You're so fucking tight it hurts, and he's so fucking thick you can barely breathe around the stretch. Your sundress is hiked up around your waist, his hands fisted in the fabric and your hair- his wedding ring catching strands as he holds you against his body.

"You- mph - you're going to ruin me," His hips jerk up involuntarily, "aren't you?" driving deeper, and you cry out like he's hitting some spot inside of you that only a man like him can reach. He's massive- way more massive than you initially thought, thick enough that your eyes water, that your cunt burns trying to stretch around him. The head of his cock forcing your walls apart, claiming every inch as you slowly take him to the base. 

Nanami can feel you trying to adjust to his size, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each bounce as you babble incoherently- "S'too-m'fuckfuckfuck-sh'too big!!" tears leaking from your eyes, "don' ev-even know -hah - your n-name!"

His name is Nanami, but that doesn't matter... He felt how your pussy clenched at your words. You were getting off on the wrongness of the situation, just like he was. The depravity of it- this older man using your young body, his wedding ring cool against your skin. 

You don't know him, don't care who he is, and that makes this all the more exciting.

His lips crash against yours, swallowing every little noise you make as he ruts up into your heat, the windows fogging up, the car shaking with the force of his thrusts.

"S'doesn't matter," is all he says, his voice low, husky while his one hand guides your hips in a rhythm that makes his vision blur.

The condom stretches tight around him, already straining from how hard he is, how deep he's buried inside your young cunt. He can feel your orgasm building in the tremor of your thighs, the way your breath comes in desperate little gasps.

When you come, you scream. Actually scream, head thrown back like a religious experience, and your pussy clamps down so hard he sees stars. The sensation drags out his own climax, his hips lifting clean off the seat as he empties himself into the latex barrier. 

The condom swells inside you, and you whimper at the added pressure, grinding down like you want to milk every last drop from him. Your cunt spasms around the intrusion, wringing another orgasm from your oversensitive nerves.

Afterward, you collapse against his chest, both of you breathing like survivors... His wedding ring still tangled in your hair... 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It happens again a week later. Then again. And again.

Always his car. Always that same desperate hunger, like he’s trying to fuck the loneliness out of himself. You learn to take him easier, your body adapting to his size, but he never gets used to how perfectly you fit around him.

"Missed this," he groans against your neck as he bends you over in the backseat, your sundress -a different one, pink this time- bunched around your waist, pink lace panties ripped and tossed in the front seat, "Thought about you all week."

His cock twitches inside you, and the way his hands grip your waist possessively, you believe him.

You feel his breath hitch when you start to move against him, grinding your hips back against his, feeling him so deep you could choke on it, the head of his cock pressing so hard- nestled against the opening of your womb. You swear if you looked down you’d see a perfect outline of it stretching out your stomach.

With a cock-drunk smile you can't help but imagine him coming inside you, painting the deepest part of you with his seed. "Mmn, missed this, too, Nanami-san~" you gasp sweetly, the confession falling from your lips before you could stop yourself.

He wants to say more, his tongue heavy with words unspoken- "missed you", "you're beautiful", "god, I can't get enough of you"… He always wants to say more.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he fucks you like he owns you, like your young cunt exists solely for his pleasure.

He never gives you his number, never takes you anywhere but his car, and when he pulls out, the condom is always filled to the brim with his cum- stretched obscenely with your arousal coating the outside.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Three weeks later after he's fucked you stupid in his car, he asks you, "Come home with me tonight." The words are quiet, almost uncertain.

You look up at him from where you’re starting to doze off against his chest, "Your place?"

"My place." His fingers trace patterns on your bare shoulder, "Stay the night."

His apartment is exactly what you’d expected- minimalist, expensive, cold. But his bed is warm, and he fucks you properly there, taking his time to explore your body, to discover the things that made those pretty lashes flutter, those gorgeous lips moan his name., "K-Kento~♡!"

He’s so gentle, so slow, making you come so many times that by the time you finally pass out, the sheets were soaked, his cock still buried deep inside with a condom so full of cum, it nearly split at the seams.

That night Nanami watches you sleep, the way your hair fans out around your face, the little snores escaping your parted lips. He brushes a lock of hair from your cheek, a sudden ache in his chest as he sighs, "What am I doing?" This was wrong, "I'm too old for you," he mumbles, pressing his forehead against yours while gathering you in his arms, "This can't be a long-term thing…"

His voice trails off, the warmth of your body against his pulling him under.

"This can't be a long-term thing," he repeats the words in his dreams, and it sounds like a lie.

In the morning, he makes coffee and breakfast… Actual pancakes, not the instant kind from your dorm.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It becomes routine. Your toothbrush joins his, the spare pajamas in his drawer are yours, and his apartment begins to smell like flowers and the perfume you wear. He drops you off at lectures, picks you up after. Pays for textbooks without blinking. Watches you study at his kitchen table while he cooks dinner, domestic in a way that terrifies him.

Nanami even learns your coffee order at Starbucks- extra vanilla syrup, always, because you're still young and believe sweetness won't hurt you. When the barista flirts with you, his jaw tightens, the way his hand tightens around his own cup. You thought at first that it was just anger, irritation at the line, but-

"Jealous?" You ask as the two of you exit the store, sipping your drinks.

"Why would I be jealous?" He responds coolly, even though his heart is hammering. He keeps trying to tell himself that this isn't an exclusive thing, even if he does call you his pretty girl while you bounce on his cock. It isn't exclusive… even though he bought a new bed to accommodate both of you. A king sized bed, the most comfortable one in the store, because his favorite thing is watching you fall apart beneath him, above him, against him… falling asleep with your scent in his lungs, waking up to your sleepy smile…

You're free to date whoever you want… but the thought makes his stomach churn…

"Beeeecause~ the cute barista was totally hitting on me," You grin, "He even gave me his number on the napkin."

"Oh?" His tone is disinterested, but his jaw ticks, and there's something dark in his eyes when he looks at you.

"Yeah, see," You show him the napkin, and sure enough, the guy had wrote his name and phone number, and-

Nanami stops.

The napkin even has a little note scribbled at the bottom, a flirtatious one saying, Call Me Anytime Cutie ;).

And that's when Nanami snaps.

He drags you back to his car, his grip bruising, and when you look up at him with those big eyes, lashes fluttering innocently… the idea that someone else might touch you like this, might hear the noises you make when you're close, might get to see the look on your face when you come undone, and god, the way you say his name…

Fuck.

He doesn't want to share.

He's become possessive.

And that afternoon he proves it. Has you bent over the hood of his car in the parking garage, splitting you open with his cock while he growls about who you belong to. Your pussy gripping him like a vice, your juices running down the car and dripping onto the cement below as he fucks you harder than he ever has- condom threatening to split around his cock with every thrust.

"Y-Yes!!!~♡," you sob, because it's true. Because somewhere between the first time he made you come and now, you became his completely.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

One morning Nanami comes home after his run, a rare day off, and finds you sitting at his table in the kitchen, dressed only in his button-up, the one he wore to work the day before. Yout hair is still sleep mussed, your favorite mug of his in your hand, and its like his breath leaves him, his heart hammering against his ribs, because for the first time in a long time… Nanami Kento is happy.

He loves you…

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck… This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be here like this- wife like and wearing his shirt. Greeting him each night he comes home late… 

Shit…

Nanami Kento was completely and utterly in love with you.

The realization hits him like a truck, and his mouth at that moment goes dry.

As you turn to him, eyes still sleepy, he also realizes he wants to memorize this moment, to preserve it forever- the early morning sun casting a beautiful glow on your skin, the soft curve of your bare shoulder. 

"Mornin', Kento," you smile at him, and he can’t take it anymore. He can’t hide this from you any longer. 

"Come here," 

"Mm? What's up?"

"Just-" He can’t speak, not properly, so he grabs your wrist in the most gentle way he can manage and tugs you from your seat, pressing you flush against his body, his hand finding your cheek, thumb tracing your lower lip.

"K-Kento, what are y-"

"I love you."

Your eyes widen, lips parting, and for a second he’s terrified. Worried that this will change everything, and then- 

"I-I love you, too. I just-" You look away for a moment, the sweetest blush spreading across your face- your smile the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, "I just didn’t know how you would- I didn’t want to scare you away…" 

God, you could never scare him away. Never. And a part of him hated himself for ever making you feel that way. That the only reason you didn't tell him is because you thought it would drive him away. 

"I love you," he breathes again, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, his forehead pressing against yours, "So much. You could never scare me away, darling."

The kiss that followed was everything he's ever wanted. Soft, sweet and loving- everything a first kiss should be, and when the two of you part, he whispers your name against your lips, as if trying to reassure himself that this was real.

That night he takes you in his arms, carrying you up to the king size bed so that he can show you just how much he loves you. To show you just how serious he is about you. 

"No condom tonight," he whispers in your ear, his arms wrapped around you, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pulls back to look at your face. 

"Mn," You nod, "Sounds fun~, but you know I’m-"

"I know… You're not on the pill," he interrupts, the corners of his mouth quirking up, "but we'll just have to deal with the consequences, won't we?"

The consequences… 

He’s never sounded so happy about anything. 

"I want to feel you," he breathes, rolling his hips, slowly, deeply, tenderly as he nudges against your entrance, "want to fill you up properly… Make you really mine," he kisses your cheek, "Make a family."

"Ahhn~♡," the moan that is drawn from your lips as his cock sinks into was music to his ears. No latex, no barrier between your bodies, just thick, bare cock spreading you open. It was indescribable- the way he filled you up, the heat of his length, every vein and ridge rubbing deliciously along the sensitive walls of your pussy. 

"God, you're perfect," he groans, and when his cock kisses your womb, his hips twitch involuntarily. The thought of his seed flooding your deepest parts was far too alluring- painting your walls white, coating the entrance of your womb, the image of your belly round and heavy with his child making his cock throb inside of you.

"Please~♡" gasping as he fills you completely- not just with his cock, but with the promise of something more permanent. 

He cums inside you that night, and every night after, marking you as his in the most intimate way possible. 

This started with divorce papers and whiskey, but it had become something else entirely. Something that tastes like forever and feels like coming home.

[madysenvv]

you’re not used to people doing nice things for you. not really.

sure, people have done things to you, and maybe even for you, but rarely has it felt like it came from a place of softness. from love. from that gentle place nanami reaches for you from every time he looks at you.

you don’t know what to do with it, sometimes. like right now.

he’s standing at your stove—your stove, in your kitchen, like it’s the most natural thing in the world—and he’s wearing that damn apron again. the navy one with the little white pinstripes that matches the sleeve garters he wears to work.

he’s cooking you breakfast.

he’s made you coffee just the way you like it—without even asking this time—and he’s got a little pot of jam warming on the stove, and he’s slicing strawberries like it’s meditative.

you stand in the doorway and watch him for a minute, your throat burning.

he doesn’t even flinch when he sees you. just smiles, soft and unhurried, and says, “good morning, sweetheart. go sit, i’m almost done.”

and maybe it’s the way he says it. like you’re someone who deserves to be cared for. like this is normal.

you sit down, still blinking too fast.

he brings the plate over and sets it in front of you—golden french toast with warm strawberries and powdered sugar, and something in you cracks at the care of it all. the absurd, quiet kindness of a man who took the time to sift powdered sugar because he thought you would enjoy it.

you try to blink it away. you really do.

but when you look up at him, he sees it immediately. how your face has gone tight with the effort of keeping it in. how your lower lip wobbles.

“hey,” he murmurs, crouching beside your chair, one warm hand on your knee. “what is it?”

you laugh, shaky and a little pathetic. “you made me breakfast.”

“i did.” he’s smiling still, but it’s gentler now, more careful. “and that’s… upsetting?”

you shake your head, but your voice is cracking when you speak. “no. it’s just—no one’s ever really… done stuff like this. not for me.”

his brows knit, and he presses his temple against your arm, fingers squeezing your leg.

“then they’re all fools,” he says quietly. “because doing this for you is the easiest thing in the world.”

your chest aches. your eyes burn. and when he kisses the back of your hand and tells you, again, to eat before it gets cold—like it’s normal to be cherished like this—you cry into your breakfast.

just a little.

he doesn’t tease you. he just brings you a napkin and kisses your temple and tells you you’re allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling.

he’ll do it again tomorrow, too. and the day after.

until your heart stops breaking every time someone is good to it.

[madysenvv]

synopsis ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ when you’re too sick to care for your baby, nanami brings her to the office strapped to his chest—calm, efficient, and completely unfazed as he gives presentations with a pacifier on his tie and a baby on board.

tori’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ this is ridiculous i’m warning you

nanami doesn’t even flinch when you croak from under the covers, voice raw and pitiful: “ken, i can’t—i think i have a fever, and she won’t stop crying unless i’m holding her.”

your voice cracks halfway through the sentence. you look like a ghost of yourself, half-sunken into your nest of tissues and blankets, hair a disaster, eyes glazed and watery. the baby’s red-faced and sniffling too, sprawled across your chest like a little heater, tiny fists grasping your shirt like she knows you might try to hand her off.

nanami, standing in the doorway, calmly adjusts his watch.

“i’ll take her.”

you blink. “you… you have three meetings today.”

“and now i have three meetings with a baby,” he says, already crossing the room like a man with a mission.

you can’t even protest properly before he’s kneeling beside the bed and gently peeling her off you, expertly switching to his papa voice — warm and low, as if he’s de-escalating a tiny, fussy hostage situation.

“there we go,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then yours. “we’ll manage. rest. you know what medicine you should take. call me if you need anything.”

ten minutes later, he’s at the front door in his usual tan coat, baby carrier strapped securely to his chest like she’s a very warm, very giggly piece of office equipment. she’s wearing one of those obnoxiously frilly headbands you swore you’d never put on her — but she screamed when he tried to take it off, and he’s not here to pick battles today.

diaper bag over his shoulder. bottle packed. pacifier clipped neatly to his tie. hair combed, shoes polished, baby securely swaddled and babbling.

“don’t let the interns try to hold her,” you wheeze weakly from the hallway.

“i would rather die,” he replies without missing a beat.

as he walks out, you hear him murmur to her, “no loud commentary during the finance report. we must suffer through it in dignified silence.”

cut to: the morning finance meeting, 9:01 a.m., in a fluorescent-lit conference room downtown.

the projector is humming. spreadsheets fill the screen. half the team is slumped in various degrees of caffeine withdrawal.

nanami kento walks in, perfectly on time, baby on his chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

he doesn’t explain it. doesn’t apologize. he walks straight to the head of the table, clicks open his laptop, adjusts the projector, and begins speaking with the same calm, measured cadence he always uses—

except this time, there’s a tiny foot sticking out of the carrier, gently bumping his blazer.

“moving into Q3,” he says, clicking to the next slide, “we’re forecasting a moderate increase in asset reallocation—”

the baby lets out a soft, inquisitive coo.

nanami glances down at her, gives a very small nod, and says to the room, “correct. the Q3 projections are, in fact, unfortunate.”

silence.

well—almost silence.

from somewhere near the coffee machine, an intern tries to whisper, “is that a—?”

nanami turns his head fractionally. just enough to shut it down.

“yes. she’s here in lieu of her mother, who is unwell. please direct all questions to me or her, depending on the topic.”

no one questions it.

she doesn’t cry, not even once. in fact, she seems thrilled. she clutches his tie like it’s her personal emotional support ribbon and waves her tiny hand every time someone shifts in their chair. at one point, she lets out a high-pitched giggle, and nanami simply pauses mid-sentence, gently pats her back, and continues like nothing happened.

someone tries to make eye contact and smile at her—

she beams and throws her toy at them.

nanami takes back the toy and sighs, “don’t encourage her. she’ll never stop.”

the entire time, he keeps presenting with his utmost precision, occasionally glancing down at her to tuck the headband back into place or swap her pacifier like he’s been doing this his whole life.

he wraps up right on time.

“any further questions?”

dead silence.

even the regional manager just gives a tight nod. no one wants to risk being shamed by a baby.

—

back home, it’s late afternoon when the door creaks open.

you’re still buried in blankets, half-delirious and clinging to a half-empty box of tissues. you blearily lift your head at the sound of keys in the bowl.

nanami walks in with the same exact expression he had when he left: calm, unreadable… except there’s a little extra softness at the corners of his eyes.

the baby is still strapped to his chest. fast asleep now, one hand gripping his tie, the other curled against his collarbone. she’s drooling slightly. he hasn’t removed the headband.

“she was very well-behaved,” he says quietly. “arguably more professional than half the team.”

you laugh — or try to, but it comes out as a croaky wheeze.

he crouches beside you, brushing a bit of hair from your face. “how are you feeling?”

“like death.” he nods and kisses your cheek.

you glance over at the baby. “how was she, really?”

“chatty,” he says, straight-faced. “opinionated about quarterly earnings. but otherwise excellent.”

he lifts her hand gently, unhooks her fingers from his tie.

“you’re insane,” you whisper.

he leans in to kiss your forehead, gentle and lingering.

“efficient,” he corrects.

then, after a beat—

“also… she now technically works in accounting.”

you blink. “what?”

he shrugs.

“someone handed her a spreadsheet. she drooled on it. that’s more than my latest intern did today.”

you laugh again, properly this time.

he finally unstraps her, carefully settling her into the bassinet. she doesn’t stir — not even when he tucks her blanket in with military precision.

you lie there watching him move quietly around the apartment, sleeves rolled up, tie chewed, hair slightly out of place, and realize:

papa nanami could take over the world with a baby strapped to his chest and a pacifier in his pocket, and he’d still be home in time to fold the laundry.

[madysenvv]

you’re lying in bed with nanami, skin still warm from the shower, legs tangled under the sheets. the night is quiet, city buzz faint behind thick windows, the kind of calm that only settles in when the world’s already asleep.

he’s on his side, propped up on one elbow, thumb brushing slow lines along your hip. the bedside lamp casts soft gold over his face, and for a second you think you could look at him forever and never get tired of it.

“can i ask you something?” you murmur, voice muffled against his chest.

“of course.”

you hesitate, not because it’s a hard question, but because the quiet between you feels so delicate. like it might shatter if you speak too loudly.

“when did you know you liked me?”

he’s quiet for a second. thinking, not avoiding. and then—

“i think it was the first time you fell asleep on me,” he says, voice low. “you were talking about something—i don’t remember what—but your head was on my shoulder and you just… drifted off. you trusted me enough to do that.”

you glance up at him. “that’s it?”

his mouth twitches. “you drooled on me, too. just a little. really cute.”

you groan and try to hide your face but he catches your wrist and kisses your knuckles, laughter in his breath.

“no, really,” he says, quieter now. “i liked you before that. but that night… it settled something. i knew i wanted you forever.”

you smile into his chest, tracing lazy shapes into his skin.

“what about you?” he asks. “when did you know?”

you hum, pretending to think, even though you’ve always known.

“when my shower broke.”

you feel him shift slightly to look down at you. “your shower?”

you nod. “remember? i called you. it was like, stupid late, and i barely knew you. but you came over anyway. you didn’t even ask questions, just showed up and fixed the whole thing like it was nothing.”

he blinks. “i do remember. you looked… distressed.”

“i was so close to crying,” you laugh softly. “and then you showed up and just handled it. and i was standing there like, god, i should probably offer to suck him off or something.”

his laugh is a quiet rumble under your cheek.

“i didn’t,” you add, mock stern. “i had some self-control.”

“that’s very admirable of you.”

you shift a little, looking up at him again. “i mean it, though. you could’ve just told me to call a plumber in the morning.”

he’s looking at you like he’s trying to memorize you, every blink and curve and whisper.

“it wasn’t a big deal,” he says.

“it was to me.”

he pulls you closer, his hand pressing against your back, grounding. steady.

“always calling me a sap— you’re a sap too, aren’t you, kento?” you murmur, but your voice is fond, teasing.

he kisses your forehead, lingering.

“i’m in love,” he says simply. “what else am i supposed to be?”

you don’t have an answer. just a full heart and a man who never lets you fall apart alone.

and for once, that’s more than enough.

[madysenvv]

the only drawback to making kento a father is the lack of 'alone time' you now get.

he was made to be a dad, there’s no doubt about it. he’s the perfect contender, stern but patient and understanding and so infatuated with fatherhood that you almost don’t mind the nightly interruptions.

almost. the sound of little padding footsteps leading up to your closed bedroom door gives you a trauma response now. how your husband can hold himself above you, inches away from dipping inside your sweet center, and still remain kind-eyed and cheery when your daughter starts banging on the shut door to be let in is beyond you.

he's a good man. you hate him for it.

maybe you just need sex. you've been deprived of your husband's body for so long that you're going stir crazy, in a sense. he did marry you with a vow of servitude, after all.

thank god for takuma and his wide eyes. he looks like a deer in headlights as he stands at your front door, a huge bag of toys and snacks and just-in-case diapers in one hand and your daughters tiny hand wrapped around two fingers of his other hand. she beams up at uncle ino, ready to spend a night away from home (and get unreasonably spoilt in the process).

"no snacks after her teeth are brushed. and she's developed a penchant for climbing—don't let her do that. and if she comes home with even a mark, ino, i will be breaking each and every last one of your bones, starting with the toes and moving upwards until i reach your—"

"i think he gets the point, love," you place a gentle hand on your husbands tense bicep. "please stop threatening to snap takuma's bones."

ino, who is probably going over his last will and testament in his head, forces a grin. "loud and clear, she's safe with me."

"mhm," your husband can only eye him for so long before your daughter is tugging uncle ino away and leaving the two of you in the foyer.

finally alone. just you, your husband, and his teething paranoia. he's darting to the front window and peeking through it like a yappy dog would as their owner leaves. it’s cute. you feel bad for the future-teenage version of your daughter, who will have to deal with a man like kento nanami as her father. but now she’s just a baby and in the safe (albeit shaky) care of uncle ino, and you are vying for an orgasm or six.

“ken, honey."

his eyes are stuck outside.

"kento."

still stuck. you never thought the other woman would be sporting butterfly clips and drool as a statement piece.

"oh my fucking god kento nanami if you do not fuck me right now i will take that little sword of yours and stick it so far up your— oh hi."

he's standing in front of you before you know it, with your face held firmly in his hands and an awfully stern look on his face.

"my love," he drags his thumb from your cheek, down to your bottom lip. "first of all, i have every intention of ravaging you until you're so full of me that you don't have the mind to beg for more. and second, it's more of a cleaver than a sword."

"okay nerd," you pull your man into a deep kiss, one much more intimate than you've been allowing yourself of late. kento takes the lead easily, slipping his tongue past your lips in a way he'd never dare to do over the breakfast table.

before you can register your movements, the two of you are stumbling like drunk teens up to your bedroom, a garment of clothing lost with each step to the door. you loosen your husbands tie and drop it to the ground, and he manages to unclasp your bra just as his back hits the bed and you're falling on top of him in a mess of gross kisses and shared laughter.

it's sweet, until kento tires of the homely teasing and flips you over to press his heavy body (and even heavier cock, it seems) against yourself. your legs part naturally, as they will ever do for the man you love, and kento trails kiss after kiss from your neck all the way down to the dripping mess of your cunt.

when he latches his lips to your clit you gasp and shoot your hand down to his hair. he loves it being pulled, admitted to you after a drink too many that he finds in degrading in a way that is only pleasurable coming from you: he's sensitive to that sort of stuff, so you tug lightly at his blond locks until your fingers snag against something hard.

"what's in your hair?" you manage between moans as ken savours his most favourite meal.

he pulls away for a second, resting his cheek against your parted (and already shaky) thigh as you comb through his hair with your fingers once more and pullout not one, but two hot pink butterfly clips that you were looking for only this morning.

"oh," your husband smiles when he sees them. "i got a princess makeover last night. i stopped her before she could go looking for makeup but she did manage to find those."

"they suit you," you smile, and clip them back into his hair. it look silly, but it keeps his hair from sticking to his forehead in the heat of things, so you look past the glitter. "you're a good dad, you know?"

kento presses a kiss to your clit, which has your breath hitch in your throat, before rising up to climb over you once again. his cock is heavy and pulsing with heat as it rests against you, but ken denies himself for a moment in favour of pressing a very sweet kiss to your lips. you can taste yourself on his smile.

"thank you for making me a dad," he kisses your cheek next, and then your forehead. "and thank you for everything else you have given me in our marriage."

"all those orgasms..." you muse, which earns you a small laugh from your lover.

"oh indeed," he reaches down and lines himself up with you. "you always know just how to set the mood. very sentimental, you are."

"it's what you married me for," you lift your hips a little to help your husband in. "isn't it? you just love the way i—oh god, ken."

he pushes into you niiice and slow, feeling the way you stretch around him. it's been a while, so the usual ache of accommodating his unfair size is more of a burn this time through, but kento's lips against your neck are a nice distraction. he's slow and sweet and so in love with you that you can feel it in the way he fills you up. or maybe you're just delusional from the dick.

"love the way you feel," he finishes your sentence. drawing his hips back only a little to get you used to his movements, he presses his next kiss to your shoulder. "love the way you look."

"you don't need to flatter me. you're already inside of me."

kento bites the skin of your shoulder and picks up the pace to really start fucking you. "love the way you can take a compliment without being a smartass about it."

"god, kento," you can only manage a few words before he's adjusting his thrusts to brush against your g spot with each movement in and out. "it's so much."

"i love how well you take me," he goes on. "i love your heart. and i love your body. and i love your idiotic jokes. and i love how you smell."

"ken..."

"and i love—" kento runs a hand down your left arm to take your hand in his, bringing your knuckles up to his lips before pressing a long kiss to your wedding band "—how i'm all yours."

not his, yours. he's made it very clear since your first date (which was more of a study-situation than anything, that he is all yours. your property. your lover. your shoulder to cry on and your life partner and the man who would burn down cities for you and your kid.

and the only man who could fill you this deep and still be romantic about it. he fucks you like that until your legs are locked around his waist and you're begging him to fill you up with his load.

and of course he obliges, because anything you ask for he will give you enthusiastically. he rubs your clit until you're blanking on your own name and cumming in beautiful synchronisation with him. kento spills deep inside of you with a breathy groan and even then still manages to fuck you through your orgasm until he's softening inside of you and you're trying ultra hard not to cry from the overwhelming love (and pleasure) you're feeling.

and as he holds himself over you, smiling down at you like he didn't just possibly breed you out again, all you can do is look up at him with teary eyes and laugh at the ridiculous pink butterfly clips on his head.

"you're so pretty," you giggle, reaching up between your sweaty bodies to tap on the clips. "my manly husband."

"god," he groans, dropping his head down to your chest. you laugh some more, now with an even better view of his accessories, until he steals your laughter altogether with a sharp bite to your nipple.

"ow, fuck! that is not how a princess behaves."

"you are going to be the death of me."

[madysenvv]

there was something about your brother being a plug that was fun; and it wasn’t just stealing from his stash of edibles.

but more so his clients. specifically a college guy named torū oikawa.

he was from japan, 6’0 or so, and majorly sexy—but “off-limits” according to your brother. not only was torū his client, but also his friend.

but your brother didn’t have to know.

so when your brother had to leave for a bit to meet with his friends, you were awaiting torū to come get his order at your house. he wanted to blow off steam from a volleyball match loss and what better way to do so than to take a little edible.

one thing led to another and all of a sudden, you were eating the shit he bought from your brother: some nice homemade brownies.

“this hits the spot,” he murmured. you felt your gaze cement on his figure sprawled out across the couch while he felt the effects of the edible take in place.

“mhm…” you giggled and leaned towards him. his chocolate brown eyes kept staring at the ceiling fan turn and turn.

the sunset was peering through the thin spaces of the window blinds and his pretty little features entranced you. the way his hooded eyes stared, his veiny hands placed upon the couch, his evidently toned legs concealed by his jeans that fit him so snug. even the way his adam’s apple popped out drove you so insane.

your memory got a bit foggy but what you do remember was pulling him in to make out—oh how his lips were from the brownie: all sweet and a hint of vanilla from his lip balm.

“fuck, pretty girl. you’re so fucking sweet,” he murmured as his lips attacked your neck sensually, his fingers going down to rub at your wet folds.

all you could do was squirm at his euphoric touches—even at the way he stared at you like you were water and he was parched. the way he touched you was like you werte a piece of clay and he was the sculptor: ever so meticulous yet rough and gentle at the same time.

your edible intake didn’t help either; every touch he gave you made you feel like your body was on cloud 9.

“so wet, pretty girl. so so good.” he whispered, his words slightly muffled from his lips being on your neck. your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his erection against the plush of your thigh: all hard and stiff from the confines of his jeans.

you felt torū’s long fingers slowly adjust in slipping down your cute jean skirt to your knees, helping him access your wet cunt better. “so cute, baby…”

your eyes stayed on him as he unbuckled his belt and took off his pants; then they widened when you saw how delectably long he was. so so long.

a giggle slipped from your lips and you felt giddy and wet. “you can take it. right, baby?” you just nodded just to get a feel—a taste.

that small giggle turned into a near wanton moan as you felt him slowly enter your tight wet cunt; not even your slick could help with the immense stretch.

“god, torū…” you whined. you felt damn near breathless at the sensation of how good he felt.

“fuck, you’re tight,” he whimpered, “i’m gonna cum. fuck—“

“m-me too,” you shut your eyes closed at his slow pace. you felt him in the most literal sense; the veins and the way he simply moved.

the sound of your slick with his thrusts filled the room with your labored breathing and his constant low whimpers. you felt a wave of euphoria come over you as you finally came on his dick.

“you’re so good, pretty. did so good f’me.”

his pace became even more excruciatingly slow and you felt him buck his hips and cock twitch, his moans becoming more wanton and loud.

and just when you felt him finish and fill you, you heard your phone buzz from your brother, letting you know what he was coming back earlier than expected.

[madysenvv]

NIGHT SWIMMING WITH SUGURU

CW: MDNI, Smut, dryhumping, small Drabble.

You’d been splashing him for the last ten minutes.

“Keep playing, and I’ll catch you,” Suguru warned with that lazy grin, slick black hair tied into a low bun, droplets clinging to his shoulders as he swam after you—slow, taunting.

“Then catch me,” you giggled, kicking away again, laughing as he chased you through the water.

The pool was lit from below in soft hues of teal and violet, moonlight seeping through the glass roof overhead. Every time you thought you got away, you felt a hand brush your ankle, a tug at your thigh. And then—

“Got you.”

His hands found your hips under the surface just as you turned to face him, laughing breathlessly. He didn’t speak—he just looked at you. Soaked, glowing, hair stuck to your skin, eyes gleaming. You swam into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist without hesitation, his hands steadying you beneath the water.

“You’re trouble,” he murmured against your lips.

“You love it.”

You kissed him. It started sweet—wet mouths brushing, gentle licks between smiles. But it turned fast. Heated. Desperate. His tongue slid into your mouth, and your body rolled into his. Your arms wrapped tighter around his neck, and he pressed your back against the nearest wall, grinding up between your thighs.

The friction was hot and slow, your swimsuit pressed tight to your soaked core, his cock hard beneath his trunks, rutting against you through the layers. You gasped into his mouth as he shifted, angling his hips up—each thrust making you arch a little harder into him, water sloshing around you both.

“Shit, baby,” he groaned, voice husky, lips dragging along your throat. “Keep grinding on me like that and I’m not gonna last.”

You rolled your hips again, deliberately this time, moaning at the tension building where your bodies met.

“Then don’t,” you whispered, biting his earlobe. “Cum like this with me.”

He growled into your neck, arms flexing as he gripped you harder, faster, his hips slamming up between your legs now, the rhythm desperate and messy, all heat and friction.

You came first, clutching his shoulders, your thighs trembling around him. He followed with a low grunt, hips twitching against you, breath hot and ragged.

Both of you stayed tangled like that—foreheads pressed together, breath mingling, the water settling slowly around your bodies.

“…Round two in the hot tub?” he murmured with a smirk.

[madysenvv]

Hi I love your writing ! Could you possibly do bakago catching his daughter kissing midoryias son

Blasting Hearts and Puppy Love

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Katsuki Bakugo

Tags: Humor, Family Fluff, Teen Romance, Angry Dad Mode™, Soft Bakugo™, Deku Cameo

Word Count: ~2600

---

The Bakugo household was... loud.

Always had been. Always would be. But over the years, you’d learned to decipher the difference between “I just stubbed my toe” shouting and “the chicken’s on fire again” shouting.

What you weren’t prepared for was the shout you heard that Saturday afternoon.

“KATSUHARU BAKUGO, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”

You dropped your coffee.

Spinning on your heel, you bolted through the house, nearly tripping over the cat and catching the tail end of your husband’s warpath—shirtless, hair wild, explosions popping on his palms like sparklers having an anxiety attack.

And there she was. Your daughter. Your beautiful, clever, slightly-too-much-like-her-dad daughter—Katsuharu Bakugo—with that look on her face. The one that screamed “I regret everything.”

Beside her? Green hair. Freckles. The startled look of a deer about to get steamrolled by a rocket-powered bulldozer.

You didn’t even need the full picture.

She was kissing Izuku Midoriya’s son.

---

Five Minutes Earlier

Katsuharu had sworn her parents were going out. “They’ll be gone for, like, two hours. We have time.”

And honestly? She wasn’t wrong. You had planned to run errands. Emphasis on planned. You’d forgotten your wallet. Classic.

So there she was, half sunk into the couch, lip-locked with Midoriya “I’m-Actually-A-Little-Taller-Than-My-Dad” Izumi, when she heard the front door open.

They broke apart fast enough to get whiplash, eyes wide.

Then—

BOOM.

Explosion.

Yelling.

The sound of slippers being yeeted into the stratosphere.

---

Present Time

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” Bakugo shouted, stalking across the living room like a lion that’d just caught a hyena stealing his meat. “YOU’RE SUCKIN’ FACE WITH A DAMN DEKU SPAWN?!”

“I—I wasn’t—” Izumi stuttered, holding his hands up like it might protect him from certain death. “I swear I didn’t mean—!”

Katsuharu, cheeks still pink, hissed, “Dad, you’re being dramatic—”

“OH I HAVEN’T EVEN STARTED YET!”

You stepped in between them like a seasoned war general mediating nuclear diplomacy.

“Okay! Okay, Katsuki, I get that you’re having a full emotional breakdown, but maybe—maybe—we don’t detonate the child?”

“He’s not a child, he’s a Midoriya!” Bakugo snapped. “That’s a betrayal of blood!”

“She’s not in a gang, Katsuki! She kissed him, not sold state secrets!”

“I might as well be stabbed in the back with a broccoli!”

“Dad, I like him!” Katsuharu shouted. “He’s sweet and smart and—”

“AND A DAMN NERD!” Bakugo howled.

“Excuse me, I’m standing right here,” Izumi muttered, eyebrows raised.

“You’re lucky you’re still standing at all, bean sprout!”

---

10 Years of Parenting Flash Before Your Eyes

You remember when Katsuki first held Katsuharu in the hospital. Swaddled in a pink blanket, already scowling like her father. He looked down at her, called her a “tiny grenade” and promised he’d protect her from everything.

You had a sneaking suspicion that included the concept of kissing forever.

“You,” Bakugo said, turning a fire-eyed glare toward Izumi, “have exactly three seconds to explain yourself before I start decorating the walls with your limbs.”

Izumi’s face paled. “I-I like her! I’ve liked her since we were ten! She’s fierce and funny and amazing and—and she beat up a kid who called me broccoli boy—”

“That was one time!” Katsuharu shouted, flustered.

“She broke his nose,” Izumi whispered fondly.

Bakugo squinted like his soul just physically left his body.

“GET. OUT.”

Izumi didn’t hesitate. “Yessir!”

He bolted out the front door like his shoes were on fire (they might’ve been, considering the burn trail behind him).

Katsuharu groaned, “Ugh, Dad!”

“You’re grounded for eternity!”

“I’m seventeen!”

“Grounded until the earth collapses in on itself and all that’s left is ash and regret!”

You, ever the peacekeeper, held up a hand. “Okay, that’s enough end-of-days poetry. Katsu, take a breath before your blood pressure explodes.”

“I’m calm,” Bakugo growled, completely unconvincingly. “I’m totally. Freakin’. CALM.”

The throw pillow he detonated in his hand said otherwise.

---

Later That Evening

After the dust (literal and metaphorical) settled, you found Bakugo brooding at the kitchen table, arms crossed, eyes twitching.

“She’s growing up,” you said softly, pouring him a cup of tea.

“She’s supposed to grow up into a badass. Not a—kissing Deku's kid badass.”

You smirked. “Izumi’s sweet.”

“He’s a walking fern with nerves.”

“He also volunteers at the animal shelter and knits scarves for homeless people.”

Bakugo looked like you told him his daughter was dating Santa Claus.

“I should’ve sent her to a nunnery.”

“She’d have blown it up.”

“She gets that from you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Bakugo grumbled. “Okay, fine. She gets it from us. But that don’t mean I gotta like her getting all sappy with broccoli’s spawn.”

“You do realize we kissed around that age too, right?”

“Yeah, and I almost broke the windows doing it.”

You laughed, ruffling his hair. “Katsu, she’s a good kid. And she picked a good kid. That’s what matters.”

He huffed. “I still don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it. You just have to not vaporize it.”

“...Compromise.”

---

Epilogue: The Apology BBQ

To make peace, you and Bakugo invited the Midoriyas over for a backyard cookout.

It was... awkward.

Izuku beamed nervously. “Wow, it smells great out here!”

Katsuki threw a burger patty on the grill like it owed him money. “You shut your damn mouth, Deku.”

Inko Midoriya and you exchanged exhausted parent glances while sipping lemonade.

Katsuharu and Izumi sat very far apart—until you weren’t looking.

Then came the hand-holding.

Cue Bakugo exploding the ketchup bottle.

“YOU THINK I DIDN’T SEE THAT?!”

[madysenvv]

flashing your tits at rockstar!rin while you’re standing front row at his band’s concert. obviously his eyes blow freaking huge and his face is the brightest shade of red ever. what you weren’t expecting though, was the lazy smirk that laid across his lips. his thumb and pinky extended, signaling a little “call me” and winking your way. you weren’t planning on leaving the concert as a groupie, but after he fucked you silly that night, how could you not show up to all of the band’s concerts and events?

[madysenvv]

kissing sae when he’s rough ♡

something about sae is that he's always gentle and careful with you, treating you with the utmost respect. even if you're upset or being a bit bratty, he sighs and coaxes you into his lap, brushing your hair aside and asking what's got you so worked up. and you can't help but melt everytime — so appreciate of your boyfriend and how much you love him. but, there are, of course, times where even sae gets a bit too frustrated, anger visibly showing on his face. and when you so kindly ask him what's wrong, he ends up snapping, and you let him relieve all his pent up irritation on you.

whatever happened, it had you pinned underneath him, back pressed hard into the bed while sae was absolutely relentless. his teeth were gritted, and his expression still tight with whatever had set him off. with his hands gripping your hips, jaw clenched, sweat sliding down his neck, and harsh thrusts with the tip of his cock punching your cervix, you were loving it. you were whining as your pussy fluttered around his cock, legs wrapped around him and letting him use you as his outlet.

but despite the sharp, harsh rhythm of his hips and balls slapping against you, you still looked up at him with teary eyes and the softest pout. with your voice all airy and sweet, you let out the smallest huff, "sae... wanna kiss.."

he blinked. his hips stuttered, just for a second. "now?"

you nodded, lips glossy and moaning softly as he hit deep again. "mhm, just wanna kiss you, baby."

he scoffed under his breath, but he couldn't deny the chokehold you had on him, his eyes softening just the slightest instantly as he let out an annoyed sigh. he leaned down, mouth crashing onto yours and tongue slipping into your mouth, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. you reciprocated, reaching for his face and whining helplessly into his mouth as tears slipped from the corners of your eyes and drool ran out from the side of your mouth. "mm, more, sae, wanna k-kiss, more, kiss, kiss, please, gimme—!"

and each time he kissed you, saliva dripping between the two of you, you let out soft, hiccuping whimpers into his mouth. "mmhghh, sae, baby, kiss me more, i wanna— wanna be close, feels s'good.."

he pulled away briefly, breathing hard and staring down at you, murmuring, "can't believe you. crying like this.."

but he kept kissing you, his mouth chasing yours like he couldn't stop. his thumb swiped under your eyes to brush away your tears. and just like that, all that harsh anger bled out of him, thrusts becoming more light as he gently rolled his hips against yours. from both sae's kisses and his thick cock stretching you out, you felt like you could pass out.

"love you, love you sae, haah, oh—!" you squeaked, lips trembling as you both pulled away to catch your breaths.

"i know," he mumbled, breathing heavily. "g'nna give you what you want, amor."

for this req

© 𝒌issbabie | don't copy, steal, or translate any of my work

[madysenvv]

thinking about the night you took nerd!gojo’s virginity, his hands trembling and his breaths shallow at you fumble with the buttons on his flannel after leading him to an empty bedroom at a random frat party. he felt like such a lost puppy with how clueless he was, unable to help the anxious butterflies in his stomach as he mutters, “uh.. i’m a virgin, by the way.”

he’s nervous when you pause, looking up at him with those pretty eyes that roll before you continue, “guess i’m popping you’re cherry then.”, you say with that sweet voice and gojo feels the air leave his throat, swallowing hard while his pants fail to hide the now obvious tent at your boldness.

he doesn’t think he could be anymore turned on.

the room is soon filled with the sounds of the creaking bed and your gorgeous moans gojo could only ever fantasise about. his back is resting against the headboard while your hands are placed on his chest, occasionally gripping onto his shoulders for support as you fuck yourself dumb on his cock.

you definitely weren’t expecting this nerd to be packing under there, with him looking just as shocked as you when he saw your wide eyes at the sheer size of his cock. he was completely oblivious to it. but fuck, he can’t believe he’d been missing out on this, or more specifically the warm, tight feeling of your pretty pussy wrapped around his cock, swallowing him up as he bottoms out inside of you.

he’s as whiny as you’d expect, with every flutter of you walls causing him to moan out as he throws his head back and grips on to the plush of your hips. you feel so fucking good, and he’s struggling to hold himself back from cumming all over the place. you can feel it with the way his cock throbs against your walls so pathetically, forcing you to grind against his pelvis whenever it gets too much for him.

“aw, you wanna cum, baby?”, you coo with a condescending tone, rocking your hips back and forth when you hear a pathetic whimper escape his lips. he’s nodding with furrowed brows, biting his bottom lip to contain himself.

“yes.. fuck- i don’t think i can hold it much longer..”, he breaths out, looking at you with those annoyingly cute puppy dog eyes that you’ve grown an insufferable soft spot for.

you pull him closer, nibbling along his ear before whispering, “hold it, kay? until i’m close..”

your words are like ecstasy, completely addictive with that sultry tone of yours. he nods at your gentle demand, thrusting up and kissing your cervix that sends a quiet gasp escaping your lips. he’s still impatient, and you find yourself getting fucked on his cock with his large hands guiding your hips as his tip gently abuses your sweet spot.

the moans he’s been looking for soon come falling from your lips, with your digits circling over your clit in a desperate manner as you feel your pussy clench around gojo’s cock. the pleasure that’s written on you face made you look even more beautiful that what you already are, with his eye’s swallowing your bare figure that’s he’s always imagined underneath your clothes.

“shit.. satoru..”, you moan quietly with your head thrown back, something that gojo just can’t help but feel his cock throb painfully at. there was no way he could hold back any longer, not with you moaning like that, but he feels the way your pussy continuously flutters around his shaft as a green light to thrust upwards once again, the hot white cum that’s been dying to release sporadically littering against your clenching walls, fucking you both through your overwhelming orgasms.

your body writhes at the pleasure as your back arches, gripping onto gojo’s shoulders so harshly it’s leaving red finger prints. he can barely feel the pain with the overwhelming sensation that overcomes him, his thighs shaking as his thrusts grow sloppy. god, he’s never had an orgasm like that before and he’s afraid he’s grown addicted to it.

your heavy breaths sync with gojo’s cock slipping out of you from the wetness, his aftermath running down past your thigh which causes you to roll your eyes at his carelessness, “you’re lucky i’m on birth control.”

[madysenvv]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐓 ! ❞

　at some point you just seem desperate to get his attention — so you decided to boost your confidence with your best outfit, even catching the attention by the people you’re surrounded by while walking past. ( based on the song MINISKIRT by AOA )

ft. iglesias bunny , itoshi sae , michel kaiser , itoshi sae.

content. 3.3k words , slightly suggestive , fluff , insecurity , jealousy (you’re the jealous one) , situation ship (in sae’s one) , kind of toxic (in bunny’s and michael’s one) , up to 0.5-0.6k per drabble (bunny’s and sae’s), up to 0.8-1.0k words per drabble (michael’s and rin’s) , crappy writing. cringe. credits for dividers @/dollywons !!

authors’s note. ahhhh rin’s part is so much more longer than the others TT BYE? I JUST NOTICED Y/N ISN’T EVEN WEARING A MINISKIRT IN BUNNY’S PART…

IGLESIAS BUNNY.

　MAKING you smile was never his goal or intention. He wanted to see everything else but you smiling. He doesn't want you to enjoy your life to the fullest, he doesn't want to watch you live your life so freely without him.

And knowing that you had feelings for him, he started to be a little bit of an asshole. How? By giving you less and less attention to feed his growing fanbase (as if it wasn't large enough) the attention — the attention you deserved.

Don't misunderstand his actions wrong. After all you two aren't friends, you two are dating so don't worry. He would never cheat on you. The only problem is that you two aren't official, since you two don't want to deal with the media. So of course people think you're just friends.

Honestly speaking, you'd rather get bothered by social media, rather than him acting like a single man(whore). Of course you noticed how busy he started to get lately and even had the audacity to reply some fan mails! During your stay-at-home dates.

Your eyes that look at me. It's not the same as before.

Pulling the bag closer to your hip, you walked towards your seat with your head held high — showing absolute perfection with every step taken. Perhaps you were a goddess walking down the floor as if it was built for her.

Yes, probably.

"There you are." his gaze followed you through the reflections in the window and his head slowly turned to you.

But why do you look at me like I'm a worn-out shoe?

"I apologise for making you wait." you politely nodded your head as a waiter pulled the chair back for you. "Thanks."

I'm so pretty whatever I wear.

His eyes glided down your figure, taking in the sight in front of him as you sat down. You wore an off-shoulder bodycon dress, radiating a soft glow almost with the lights of the chandelier above you.

Everything else was covered though because you wore a matching cropped blazer over your shoulder, preventing everyone else to see more than your neck and collarbone.

I'm so sexy, even if I don't show skin.

"What are you going to eat..?" you asked carefully, eyes glued to the menu.

Underneath the calm and collected mask was a helpless, panicking and lost girl. The stares you received from the restaurant was making you feel a little pressured and sweat. At some point you felt like you were getting undressed by those eyes.

Nevertheless, you could swear they were fancier than you by miles! Richer and better dressed.

"Actually, I'm not hungry." he snapped you out of your thoughts as he sent you a fake smile. "Eat whatever you want, I'll pay."

"Oh..." you trailed off, sounding a little awkward after that.

That hoe invited you to dine out, but now he's pulling this move?

"If I’m being honest… I have to admit the same, I'm not hungry." you returned the same fake smile, placing a leg over the other and accidentally hitting his leg under the table.

"Really?" he acted surprised, a chuckle leaving his lips.

That's what he wanted to see, a fake smile.

"Excuse me?" someone spoke up, making your heads turn. "You two aren't dating, right?"

"Dating..?" you blinked in surprise, eyes slowly glancing to your partner, "No, we aren't dating. Just friends."

"Ah..!" the girl's eyes lit up at that and got her phone out. "Then, can I get your number?"

"O-Oh!" you stuttered, about to close your eyes because she was as blinding as light. "Actually—"

"She is currently seeing someone though." the male stood up from his chair and walked up to your side. "Sorry to crush your hopes."

"Really? But you aren’t the one, right?" the girl took a hesitant step back.

"Nah..." he smiled, suddenly pulling you up from your seat. His arms finding itself behind your back and under your knees, carrying you bridal-style.

"Let me down!" you cried out. "This is kidnapping..!"

"Dove, we're in public." he whispered as he sighed out.

"Help..!" you looked over his shoulder, back to the gorgeous girl who was left confused. "My number is 7xx—"

"Pshhhh."

ARE YOU A COUPLE NOW OR?

ITOSHI SAE.

　SEEING your friend surrounded by fans and also fangirls, wasn't the most pleasant sights for you. Of course, you have seen worse than this but you still can't help but feel a little jealous when they get so much more attention. (He doesn’t even look at them)

But again, Sae and you are well — it's very complicated between you actually. You two are definitely more than friends but also less than lovers. Others may call it a situation ship. Yet, is it one though?

Yes, actually yeah. You can't deny it yourself.

The feeling of warmth and joy always blooms in your stomach whenever you get even the smallest amount of his attention. You also can’t deny that you have feelings for him. Nevertheless, you aren't sure if he feels the same for you though!

At the end you aren't sure or confident that something will spark between you two if you did confess. On the other hand, your pride doesn't let you confess — because well. Your parents taught you it should be the other way around. Yeah…

Risky high heels, black stockings.

"Sae, I wondered where you were. I was waiting for your message like some kind of idiot.”

You won't be able to take your eyes off me.

People were staring at you, boys and girls. You walked past all of them, each step taken with confidence as if you were walking down the red carpet. The girl in all her glory, a shine almost incomparable to others.

When I wear a miniskirt. And walk down the street, everyone looks at me.

Most importantly Itoshi Sae was staring at you. Though, his expression blank and his teal eyes blinking a few times. His face was unchanged, just his usual stoic facial expression. You may say that he was unfazed by your outfit.

But why are you the only one who doesn't know?

"[name], sorry for making you wait." he apologised briefly, sounding so dry while doing so.

"Look at you, enjoying all the attention." you whispered. Almost — almost about to huff loudly in annoyance and maybe even desperation. "Let's go."

"Sure." he didn't even look back to the group of fans, turning his back to them to walk beside you.

"Holy— Don't tell me that's his fucking girlfriend..?"

"I failed as a girl. I didn't know he had a girlfriend!?"

"Why simp for him, when we just can worship her lol?"

"Back the fuck off..."

"Get in." he opened the door to his car for you like the gentleman he is.

"Thanks..." you muttered out and sat down on the passenger seat as you cursed yourself inwardly and wanted to rip your hair out. Did you seriously thought he would care an ounce for your stupid outfit? Well now you know.

"Here." as soon as he closed the door on his side, he threw his jacket over your lap, not minding enough to even glance into your direction. "Isn't it cold?"

It's summer.

"No." it's literally so hot, you stiffly answered and were about to give him back his jacket.

"Take it." he demanded, starting the car.

"But—"

"Take it." the audacity to interrupt you.

You knitted your eyebrows in annoyance and adjusted it on your lap before opening the window to let fresh air in. But Itoshi fucking Sae had different plans again.

"H-Hey!" you let out, immediately turning your head to him.

"Don't want anyone to see me." he answered, closing the tinted car window on your side again.

Oh you were about to jump this mother—

But if you only knew how hard he was fighting the urge to just slam his head against the wheel.

NO ONE SHOULD SEE YOU BUT HIM.

KAISER MICHAEL.

　JUST like Michael Kaiser, you too are confident with yourself. Your ego may not reach his, but you two know how headstrong you can be — how stubborn you can be.

That's also the reason why you two often struggle to communicate properly, not owning the right pride to speak up after a fight. Why should you try to solve everything when he made the mistake?

And if you two want the same thing? Oh boy, you are fighting over it like siblings would. In your weird relationship, you two act like friends, fight like siblings and love like a (strange) couple.

Honestly speaking, you can't believe you two have been together for over a year. Like with each month, it comes with each problem which ends in complete silence. And you decided to not talk about it unless the other starts.

How do you still communicate without a word?

"Alexis, tell this..." you stopped yourself from cursing, "this man to get over his ego and apologise.”

"Alright..." the poor poor boy answered as he walked out of your room to enter Kaiser's.

Mind you, you two live in the same house and share the same bedroom. But whenever there is a problem, he sleeps in the guest bedroom — the guest bedroom that is two doors away.

"He didn't answer and ushered me to go away." alexis came back and tried to put on a smile.

You only ignore me, I don't know where I'll bounce off to.

"Ah... Thanks." you answered, eventually turning to your friend with a frown. Maybe a sulk?

That's the downside for Alexis Ness when he's friends with both of you. Yes, he may be more loyal to Michael but at the end, he doesn't want you two to break up because that's the happiest Michael has ever been.

You don't know it and surely, Michael doesn’t realise it. But Alexis can swear on his whole life that without you, Michael would be not him and all of his struggles return to the starting point again. (The fake ego and all).

"Is there another message you want me to bring over?" Alexis questioned curiously, watching how you painted your nails.

I make time to get my nails done,

"No..." you breathed out and tried to perfect your skills, "sit down next to me."

"Yes, ma'am." he walked towards you, sitting on the edge of the bed next to your desk.

"I can't believe he's being such an asshole." you let out frustrated and put your finger tips into ice-cold water to fasten the drying process.

"Yeah..." Alexis was about to sigh out yet he held himself back. "How about... you put an end to this and speak up first...?"

"Alexis." you warned, immediately turning your head to glare at him.

"Alright." he sealed his lips again and kept you silent company.

"Whatever…” you rolled your eyes as soon as the nail polish dried. "Today, I'm trying out a new hairstyle."

"Oh? Which one?"

"You'll see." you send him a quick smile before getting your brush.

and change my hair.

It took a while for your hair — trying to brush out all knots and style it like the perfectionist you are. It took real long actually, so long that Alexis was about to fall asleep. But you just had to perfect your hairstyle. Despite the hellish pain.

How does the saying go? Whoever wants to be beautiful, must suffer.

"Get out." you ushered the boy to leave for privacy, pushing him out of the room.

"Of course..." he muttered and closed the door behind him.

I wear new shoes and wear a miniskirt but you don't notice.

"How do I look?" the door opened again, revealing a pretty woman with a confident grin.

"Good. Too good." he blinked in awe, taking in the sight of you. "Where are you going?"

"Out to meet a friend." you answered, walking down the stairs with a bag dangling off your shoulder. "A male friend!"

Extra loud for your supposed boyfriend.

Why are you so indifferent?

But there was no answer, just silence and Alexis' comforting smile. "Have fun." he wished you as you put on high heels. "Should I accompany you there?"

"No need. I can take care of myself!" to be honest, Alexis was fearing that you'd get drown by people, who asking for your number. With those looks? Looks that didn't come from earth? He’s sure you’ll get kidnapped at this point.

Before other wolves snatch me away,

"Okay, take care of that baby." you smiled at Alexis, taking your keys and opening the door.

Pay attention boy.

Yet it quickly got slammed shut with a loud thud, leaving you and Alexis startled. You flinched slightly as Michael grasped your wrist and pulled you closer — so you would face him properly.

"Where do you think you're going with this outfit?" he was close, almost too close.

"C-Café?" you stuttered in surprise, blinking.

"With me?” he chuckled slowly, “yeah no. Cancel those plans, idiot." he rolled his eyes and roughly grabbed the back of your neck — lip's colliding hard as if two worlds met.

"Oh well..." Alexis didn't hesitate to leave the house, giving you some privacy.

THERE WAS NO NEED FOR WORDS WHEN HE ACTED.

ITOSHI RIN.

　AS much as you love Itoshi Rin, who was literally your boyfriend, there are moments where you seriously want to strangle him the life out of him and give him a part of your senses.

It's not his fault. It's just — It’s his first relationship (clearly) and you're here to guide him. Remind yourself, no one is perfect at the first try even if it's the crazy soccer prodigy of blue lock.

You aren't too sure what happened in that prison called blue lock, but it can't be that his phone got taken away during those weeks. You doubt it. You called him hundreds of times and messaged him thousands of times (with no reply though).

Did he forget you? Or was this all an excuse so he can get away from you? Maybe you were being too pushy with him, maybe you forced your feelings onto him. Maybe, maybe...

Nevertheless, you taught him to communicate with you properly if he had a problem. Because in a relationship, communication is the main key and nothing else.

I'm getting more and more tired.

You stared at your own message — which said that he should meet you at that one spot. The one spot where you decided to intertwine your fates and seal them together.

"There he goes! Oliver Aiku blocking the way for Blue lock's ten!" the reporter screamed into the mic.

Yes, you were watching the U-20 match you missed yesterday — you weren’t aware of the existence of that match until a friend told you. A friend, not Rin.

"Blue lock's ten? He has a name..!" you huffed in annoyance and leaned against the cold stone. "His name is I - to - shi Rin!"

"Will he shoot!? Will he!? It seems like his dominant foot is his right one! He cannot shoot yet!" the man speculated.

"Of course he will." you puffed out your cheeks, gripping your phone tightly.

"And!? And— HE SHOT THE BALL! WE'RE FORTY MINUTES INTO THE FIRST HALF AND WITH THIS GOAL FROM ITOSHI RIN..!" the dude screamed, excited himself as he continued, "THE BLUE LOCK ELEVEN ARE IN THE LEAD 2-1!"

The crowd cheered loudly as your boyfriend raised his fist, celebrating his goal on his own. A bright smile painted your features as you watched the screen excited. “Of course he’d scored..!" you whispered under your breath.

He looks happy. Very happy. And to be frank, you've never seen him happier, not even in your relationship. But what do you expect? It's been a few months since you got together. You can't expect too much yet.

"Pardon me, miss." you flinched as soon as someone spoke up.

"...Yes?" you held your phone close to your racing heart.

"Is this yours?" the boy questioned, raising a handkerchief from the floor.

"Oh yes..!" you nodded and closed your phone, recognising the personal handkerchief you made for Rin. "Thank you, I didn't notice that it fell out of my coat."

With gratitude you bowed slightly and took the gift back, pocketing it in your beige trench coat which covered your whole body. If your mom didn't force you to take it, you probably would've died or killed yourself. It depends.

First of all, it was super cold. And second of all, your outfit was a bit too daring. But you prettied yourself up for your boyfriend, so you couldn't help yourself! On the other hand, you expected too much. He probably didn't even read the message.

"—Just a few moments ago, I heard the U-20 match." the male continued.

"O-Oh..! Yes." you stuttered, which was clearly out of surprise. You seriously expected him to make his merry way back to wherever he came from.

"You watch soccer?" the guy asked curiously, leaning on the stone next to you — luckily, not too close.

"Mhm, but I'm not the biggest fan of soccer." you sweat dropped, about to move away from the guy.

He was really kind. It was just kind of obvious that he wanted something from you. But because you have a boyfriend, you have to reject him respectfully.

"Ah! I'm Uzui Arata by the way. Nice to meet you..?" he introduced himself, and that'd be the point where you reject him.

"Nice to meet you but—"

"I'm her boyfriend." someone interrupted you, your heads turning to the male.

"Ah, Rin!" you blinked in surprise.

"Oh my god!? Aren't you Blue lock's ten!?" the male beside you already forgot about you and jumped up with glimmering eyes.

"Yeah, and?" your boyfriend stared at the stranger.

"I'm a big fan after that match! Your name is Itoshi Rin, right!? Can I get your autograph?"

"Would that make you go away?"

"Of course, yes!"

From nowhere, the male pulled put a pen and a piece of a paper for Rin to sign. "Thank you so much..!" he thanked him enthusiastically before taking out his phone, "is it possible if I get a picture too?"

"No." Rin rejected him briefly.

Even your eyes that look at me, why is it so cold?

"He means yes." you nudged his arm as you corrected him, ignoring how his eyes coldly was digging into your soul.

I don't know.

You send him a smile despite the glare, trying to cheer him and yourself up with the smile. "I can make the picture." you offered, accepting the phone as you stepped back to take the desired photo.

But it'll change now.

"Three... Two... One. Say cheese!" you clicked the button multiple times.

"Oh my— Thank you so so so much!" the fan bowed slightly, taking back the phone and making his merry way back to home, probably showing off the signature and the picture.

I'm a confident girl,

"Hey." you started off slowly, the smile faltering slightly as you faced him. You were nervous. Nervous as hell that he wants to break up with you or anything. Your cheeks heated up.

Was it from embarrassment?

"[name]." he replied and met your gaze as his own eyes were inspecting your pretty features. "Isn't it hot?"

"No..." you trailed off and tried to ignore the sweat forming on your forehead. Oh boy, weren't you nervous?

"You sure?" he questioned, a hint of concern behind his layered cool and collected voice.

But why are you making me struggle?

"You're here." you changed the topic quickly, letting your head sink to the ground to hide your face.

"You called." and then, he got his phone out and showed you the multiple messages you left him, "and you said you'd pretty yourself up for me."

"Did I haha..?" you laughed awkwardly and faced him again to read his reply.

"Show me." he demanded.

"No..! It's too embarrassing. I didn't expect you to actually come." you refused, holding your arms close to your body.

"Please..?" he added.

Was that ass using his charms against you? The charms you taught him to use? Oh wow.

"No way..."

"Please."

"Ugh!" you heated up again and slowly removed your hands off the trench coat.

Just do it quick and easy.

As soon as it got opened, it revealed your outfit. Miniskirt, black stockings and a blouse. But that also the moment when he held onto your hands — forcing you halt during your movements.

"What's wrong?" your arms fell to the side as you watched him close your trench coat again.

"Nothing."

"Oh… Are you being shy?" you questioned, curiously staring at his face.

"Shut up, no I’m not. Just don't open the coat again." he demanded you and closed every single button. Not here, he wanted to add.

"Rin..." you blinked, your lips curling into a sly smile, "you're super shy! Don't act all nonchalant now! Give me a kiss! Or hug!"

Well this was a confidence boost.

"Back away."

"Should I really?" you let out a chuckle as his arms wrapped around you and returned the hug. “I’m her boyfriend huh?”

“Is there a problem?”

“No.” you kissed his cheek, “but whenever something like this happens, they usually say »she is my girlfriend«.”

“Ah is there difference?” he asked innocently.

“Yeah. But I’ll teach you later.”

FROM NOW ON, YOU ARE HIS MATCH CELEBRATION.

© 2025 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !

[madysenvv]

heian era sukuna with a baby, but it’s a girl and EVERYONE expects him to get mad at you for not giving him a son but he just laughs SO LOUD it shakes the entire palace. he’s practically GLOWING with excitement and happiness.

“so you’ve given me a girl? this will be the one who takes over my throne once I step down? oh, absolutely divine, she will not just be beautiful like her mother but powerful! as soon as she’s able, I’ll teach her all the ways to be a powerful princess, how to slit the necks of her enemies, how to—”

“sukuna, shush, i just gave birth to a child with a massive head like yours, give me a moment...”

“…sorry.”

[madysenvv]

"ᴡʜᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ᴅɪᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ?"

...In which someone gets violent with you in front of him.

sukuna, gojo, megumi, and suguru.

genre, fluff? warnings, violence! notes, ughhh i love when men...

★ RYOMEN SUKUNA

It happens fast. Too fast. One second you’re blinking back shock from the sting of a slap across your cheek, and the next—

“You fucking dead piece of shit.”

The air shifts. A blood-red blur barrels past you before your heart can catch up. Sukuna’s fists connect with the guy’s jaw, a bone-snapping crack echoing through the corridor. He doesn't stop. A punch to the stomach. A kick that slams the boy against the lockers. Then another. You think you hear the guy trying to say something—maybe apologize—but Sukuna’s boot is already crushing into his ribs.

“Touch her again, and I’ll feed you to my dogs, limb by fucking limb.” He seethes, voice venomous and brutal, spitting insults like poison while pinning the guy by the throat. "You wanna bleed, huh? I'll fucking gut you right here—"

“Sukuna,” you whisper, breath catching.

He turns. Blood streaks his jaw, knuckles raw, eyes still wild like an animal fresh off a kill.

But when he sees you— that violence quiets.

“...You good, baby?” His voice drops. Gentle, like the softness was always meant for you and no one else. He walks over, still panting, grabbing your chin with his blood-stained fingers and tilting your face to inspect the damage. “Did he hurt you bad? Fuck, I should’ve ripped his goddamn hands off—”

You shake your head. “I’m okay now.”

He exhales slow. Then kisses your forehead, lips lingering like a silent promise.

But when he pulls back, he’s already turning over his shoulder. “I’m not done with him.”

★ GOJO SATORU

You stumble back, almost losing your footing—and before your brain can process what just happened, there’s a hand on your waist, steadying you.

Gojo’s fingers curl protectively around you, his other hand gently brushing your hair behind your ear. He’s silent for a moment, unnervingly still, before he presses the softest kiss to your temple.

“Baby, stay right here, alright?” Then he turns.

His usual smirk is still there, but something’s different. It doesn’t reach his eyes. The guy who pushed you barely has time to say a word before Gojo’s already in front of him.

“Wow, shoving people smaller than you?” Gojo says with a mock laugh, “That’s cute. What’s next, kicking puppies?” And then— Crack.

His fist slams right into the boy’s jaw, and he drops like a bag of bricks.

Gojo adjusts his sunglasses, like that didn’t just happen. “Oops. My hand slipped.”

He turns back to you, grin bright as the sun. “You okay, sweetheart?” You nod, a little breathless.

“Cool, cool. Wanna grab some ice cream? I think you deserve a treat. That guy’s jaw sure got one.”

★ FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

You yelp when someone pulled your hair. It’s not just the pain—it’s the shock. But the guy doesn’t get to enjoy your reaction for long. Megumi's already there, eyes blazing, hands grabbing the guy by the collar and shoving him back so hard he stumbles.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Megumi growls.

Before the guy can even defend himself, Megumi grabs his hair and yanks it downward, hard.

“You think that shit’s funny? Huh?” he snaps, voice dangerously low. “Pulling someone like that—what are you, five?”

He drags the guy down, practically hissing insults with every breath. “You slimy, brainless waste of air. You’re lucky I don’t throw you off a roof right now.”

And then—slam—he pushes the guy to the ground. Hard. Spits out a final, “Pathetic,” before dusting off his hands and turning to you.

The anger drains from his face in an instant.

“Hey… are you okay?” His hands hover before they gently cup your cheek, checking if you’re hurt. “Did he pull too hard? God, I swear people like that don’t deserve to breathe—”

“I’m fine,” you say quietly.

But he doesn’t let it go. He slips his hand in yours, squeezing. “Come on. Let’s go home. I’m not letting anyone else near you today.”

★ GETO SUGURU

It wasn’t even subtle. A full, deliberate splash of red punch, drenching your shirt, staining your chest. You freeze in shock, blinking down at the mess—

And Suguru sees red.

Without hesitation, he grabs the nearest lunch tray—full of food—and storms toward the guy who did it. The boy barely turns before Suguru slams the tray into his face, sandwich and all. The cafeteria gasps. Suguru leans in, towering, voice low and venomous.

“You. Fucking. Monkey.” He drops the tray. “Stupid, brainless animal. Is that how you get off? Staining what you’ll never have?”

The guy tries to stammer, backing away with mashed potatoes on his face, but Suguru just glares him down with pure disgust before turning to you.

“Oh, baby…” His tone flips completely. Gentle. Sweet. He takes a napkin and carefully wipes the juice off your arm. “Hold on, I’ve got extra shirts in the car.” He brushes your damp hair from your face, eyes soft now. “Let’s get you changed, yeah, doll?”

You nod, a little stunned by how fast it all happened.

He wraps an arm around you, guiding you away from the mess, shielding you with his body. “You’re not walking through this place drenched in sugar."

[madysenvv]

MDNI 18+

gojo satoru almost never removes his blindfold.

not during missions, not to sleep. not even when you’re beneath him like this, panting into his mouth. he usually keeps it on—spares him the headache. you’ve never minded, though. his presence alone compensates for what he keeps hidden.

but tonight, something makes him pause mid-thrust.

he stills, breath shallow. two fingers hook beneath the edge of the fabric. with one slow pull, he slides it down. it hangs around his neck now. what’s revealed steals away your breath.

his eyes are otherworldly.

not just electric—opalescent, almost volatile in their beauty. platinum bled to cobalt, cold fire beneath a lattice of lashes so pale and translucent they catch light like spun sugar, long enough to kiss his cheekbones when he blinks. too beautiful to be real. too unreal not to be divine.

you reach up, brushing a lock of silver hair from his damp forehead, fingers grazing the corner of one crystalline eye. his lashes flutter—languid, indulgent, unbearably fond.

“you like?” his grin tilts crooked. boyish and smug. words simply fail you, so you nod. the motion cause you to tighten around him. he exhales sharply, nearly chokes on a groan.

“careful,” gojo mutters, sinking deeper into you. “you keep lookin’ at me like that, i’ll embarrass myself.”

your legs cinch around his waist, and the next breath he lets out is shaky. there’s colour high on his cheeks now—pink cresting beneath damp silver hair, reaching the delicate points of his ears. his gaze lingers on your face, then dips to the bounce of your breasts as he thrusts again.

“told you i was pretty.”

[madysenvv]

"say it."

gojo was behind you, literally looming, his huge hands bracketing your shoulders as you stood in front of your bathroom mirror, cornered like a startled animal.

“i’m not doing this,” you muttered, eyes darting away from your reflection.

“yes you are,” he singsonged. “c’mon. just once. i’ll take aaaanything. even a ‘my hair looks nice today.’ i'm desperate.”

you squirmed. “gojo—”

“satoru,” he corrected, resting his chin on your head. “use my government name when you’re being emotionally evasive.”

you stifled a chuckle and shook your head. “this is ridiculous.”

“what’s ridiculous is the hot, smart and funny person i’m dating calling herself mid this morning.”

“i never said i was mid!”

“you implied it.” he gasped dramatically. “which is worse. it's character defamation, and frankly, i won’t stand for it.”

you laughed again despite yourself and covered your face.

“i’m being serious,” he said, suddenly softer. he slid his arms around your waist from behind and leaned down so his face was level with yours in the mirror. “i’m not letting you leave this bathroom until you say something nice about yourself.”

“why are you like this?” you mumbled quietly into your hands, then peeked at your reflection. your face was flushed, eyes shy. his stupid, perfect face hovered just beside yours- lazily handsome, annoyingly angelic.

he wiggled his eyebrows. “go on,” he urged “say it. say: ‘i’m hot.’”

you bit your lip. “stop.”

he leaned in dramatically, eyes refusing to blink. “say it.”

“no!”

“say it or i’ll start listing the things i love about you. out loud. and i'll get so detailed it’ll make you cry.”

your lips twitched, almost a smile.

he narrowed his eyes. “i will bring up the mole on your thigh that’s shaped like a little heart. i’ll describe your under-eye bags like a romantic poet I'll-"

“satoru—”

“‘my beloved’s eye shadows, dark as the moonless night, curve beneath lashes like silken wings—’”

you choked on giggles, “STOP.”

“say it, or i’ll make a haiku.”

“satoru, i swear—”

he grinned. “so cute when you pout. your face is perfect, shut up. say you’re hot or die.” you were laughing now, full-on, head falling back against his chest.

“fine! FINE,” you gave in, giggling, covering your face again. “i'm—”

he nudged your hands down gently. “uh-uh. no hiding.”

you took a breath, cheeks pink. then, a quiet, almost faint: “…i'm hot.”

he gasped, “YOU SAID IT.” you would've thought he won the lottery by his tone and facial expression.

you groaned, covering your face again. “this is so embarras-"

“hot and humble!” he shouted, spinning you around and lifting you off your feet. “my dream girl!!”

“satoru, put me down!!”

“not until you say it again!”

you squealed, laughing and squirming in his arms. “I’M HOT, I’M HOT, PUT ME DOWN—”

he did. right onto the counter, where he stood between your legs, pushed your hair back with the most soft care, and kissed your forehead with a grin so bright it nearly made your chest ache.

“you are,” he said quietly, nuzzling his head into your neck now. “you really are.”

you blinked at him. all the laughter settled into something warm and mushy in your chest.

“i know you don’t always see it,” he said, tone still light but gaze a little more serious. “but i do. every day.”

you looked down.

he lifted your chin gently.

“and i’ll keep reminding you. as many times as it takes.”

you blinked fast, suddenly misty-eyed. he tilted his head, smile returning.

“now say you’ve got a fat ass.”

[madysenvv]

synopsis ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ you talk about your husband like he is a dream and, frankly, your coworkers think that you are making him up. that is until your husband shows up.

you talked about your husband all the time.

nanami this nanami that

“oh, my husband makes the best lunchboxes”

“he stayed up to help me with my report”

“he walks me to the station when i stay late”

you weren’t annoying about it. not really. just a little too consistent. always saying things like “he’ll pick me up after work today, we’re going to get pastries!” and showing off texts that made your coworkers tilt their heads and squint.

kento nanami sounded fake.

a little too nice. a little too attentive.

and when you tacked on the fact that he was hot — “blond, tall, glasses, kinda quiet but really handsome, you know?” — people at work started to think that maybe you were pulling everyone’s leg.

just a little.

not out of malice — no, never that — but maybe you were lonely. maybe you just needed a sweet little fantasy to get you through the day. who could blame you?

because no way someone like nanami existed. not the way you described him. it just didn’t sound real. not in this world. not in this economy.

but you never let up.

you beamed like a lovesick fool when your phone lit up with his name. you refused to make afterwork plans on fridays because that was “friday pasta night with kento.” you sighed wistfully every time someone so much as mentioned a bakery and then whispered, “kento always remembers my favorite,” like you were in some fairytale.

you weren’t smug about it either. it was just… relentless. like you were trying to manifest it into reality.

and maybe it would’ve stayed harmless water cooler gossip — “hey, what do you think her husband actually looks like?” or “maybe it’s just her roommate who makes all the food?” — if you hadn’t mentioned that he’d be picking you up from work one day soon.

“he’s on leave,” you’d said, head bent over a spreadsheet, smiling to yourself. “wants to take me out for dinner. he’ll be here early. maybe you’ll see him.”

you said it innocently. with that dreamy lilt you always got when his name was on your tongue.

but that set off everyone.

bets were placed. theories floated. some said he’d never show. others swore they’d catch you whispering to your reflection in the hallway like a crazy person. one guy from accounting said he saw you with a facetime open to a picture of a k-pop idol and he swore it was nanami. it was all harmless. mostly.

people just didn’t believe it.

until the elevator doors slid open.

and nanami stepped out.

he wore a tan wool coat, fitted slacks, button-up half undone at the throat — all that fine-tuned, elegant masculinity that seemed sculpted into place. hair slicked back, wristwatch glinting, and an expression that was all quiet restraint, the kind that turned heads on instinct.

and his eyes — sharp, deep, familiar — scanned the room once, then softened the moment he saw you.

“you ready, sweetheart?” he asked.

your coworkers went silent.

someone dropped their pen.

you lit up instantly. grinned, grabbed your bag, waved at everyone with a cheery, “see you tomorrow!” like this wasn’t the most monumental moment of vindication in the history of your office.

nanami took your coat from you before you even shrugged it off fully. guided you with a hand on the small of your back. leaned in and brushed a kiss to your temple so naturally that your coworker audibly gasped.

he glanced up then. noticed the sea of frozen faces.

“good evening,” he said politely, like he didn’t just obliterate the collective doubt of your entire floor with one gentle peck.

you left with him. smiling, chatting, looping your arm through his as he opened the door and held it for you.

and behind you — a stunned, stunned silence.

“…so,” someone whispered, finally. “that was nanami?”

“the nanami?” another croaked.

“that man’s real?”

“she wasn’t even exaggerating,” came the hollow, awe-struck reply. “she was under-selling him.”

and in the elevator, nanami turned to you and smiled, faint but amused. “you were right,” he murmured, “they really didn’t believe i existed.”

you snorted and leaned into his side. “i told you. now they’ll think i made you in a lab.”

“i wouldn’t be bothered by that,” he said, tugging you closer, kissing your knuckles as the doors closed. “you did a perfect job, if so.”