#and well. I think even though this is messy it still feels like him :) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cafelattaes · 3 days ago

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all my heart | geum seongje

summary: a glimpse into what loving geum seongje looks like—messy, soft, deeply yours. and after all these years, he still has all of your heart.

pairing: geum seongje x fem!reader

genre: romance, slice of life

word count: 5.1k

first.

you and seongje had been together for a while now. you'd somehow made it through that rocky stretch hand in hand, and now here you were, college students at different schools, in completely different rhythms of life, but still orbiting each other.

at first, everyone had an opinion. they had plenty to say when you started openly seeing the mad dog of ganghak high. but after a few months, the noise died down. there was simply nothing left to say. you weren't going anywhere, and neither was he.

your parents had been the hardest. not surprised, really. they weren't strict about dating, never hovered too close. but the night they saw him for the first time, walking you home, eyes dark, cheek split, knuckles raw, it was written all over their faces. alarm. disappointment. a hundred questions they didn't want the answers to.

he looked like every bad decision a parent warned their daughter about.

still, they didn't try to tear it apart. maybe because you've never given them a reason not to trust you. you were a good daughter. they hated the idea of him, hated the way he looked at you like the world owed him blood, but they didn't interfere. not yet. not unless they had to. you could feel it hanging in the air though. one day, they'd say they wanted to meet him officially. and when that day came... well. you'd deal with it.

college life came with its quiet perks. one of them being the blessed indifference of your peers. no whispers. no curious stares. no one cornering you to ask what you saw in "that guy". people mostly kept to themselves, and for the most part, you liked it that way. you were finally able to like him without feeling like you owed the world an explanation for it.

which is why it threw you completely off when he showed up. out of nowhere. again.

you had told him you were going out with your friends, just a casual hangout after class. you hadn't bothered to mention where, because you didn't think you needed to. it wasn't like you were hiding anything. but it turned out you didn't even need to tell him. somehow, seongje always found you. like he had a sixth sense for when you were around other guys. or a tracker. you still weren't sure which one it was.

and this time, he didn't just lurk from afar like he sometimes did. he walked straight into the middle of your day and picked a fight. literally.

he didn't like the look of the guys in your group. or maybe it was just the fact that there were guys. you could tell he had already made up a story in his head about who they were and why they were there, and that was enough for him to square up like it was high school all over again. you tried, really tried to pull him aside, to talk him down, to tell him that he was blowing things out of proportion, but he didn't even look at you. like your voice didn't matter once his temper had already started rolling downhill.

and to make things worse, it turned out the guys in your group did have some kind of history with the union. not deep, but enough to make seongje grin like he'd just been handed an excuse on a silver platter.

the tension cracked. words were exchanged. chairs were scraped back. and you stood there, stuck, watching the day spiral while your friends looked at you with wide eyes and quiet apologies.

one of the girls leaned over to whisper, "sorry... the guys shouldn't have egged him on."

but all you could do was shake your head, eyes still fixed on seongje like you were trying to make sense of how quickly things had unraveled.

"no," you muttered, jaw tight. "i should be the one apologizing."

because he came uninvited. he started it.

and it wasn't just the fight, it was the way he completely brushed off your voice when you told him to stop. like your presence wasn't enough to make him pause. like your boundaries came second to whatever score he thought he had to settle. you knew how seongje was, violent, impulsive, always bristling with the urge to break something, but he wasn't supposed to treat you like noise in the background.

he didn't need to protect you from anything today. he just needed to respect you. and right now, he didn't.

the doorbell had been ringing for ten minutes straight.

you'd muted your phone after the fifth message. then came the calls. then knocking. then the doorbell again, rhythmic like he was playing a game. you didn't have to check to know who it was. no one else was that annoyingly persistent. eventually, your patience snapped, and you stormed to the door just to shut him up.

he barely looked relieved when you opened it, like he expected you to slam it in his face instead. his phone was still clutched in one hand, unread messages stacked like unfinished apologies. his hair was a mess, his jacket crooked, but his eyes were locked onto yours.

"...can i come in?"

you didn't answer. just stepped aside.

you didn't say anything as you walked back in either. didn't acknowledge the way he followed you like a puppy that didn't know where to sit. his mouth opened, maybe to try something stupid, but when you shot him a look over your shoulder, he shut up for once.

he settled on the couch. quietly. which was almost suspicious.

you turned, intending to retreat to your room, but the second you passed him, he hooked a lazy finger into your belt loop. the tug was gentle, but it halted your escape. you huffed, glaring down at him, but he didn't even look fazed. he just pulled you in.

you didn't resist, though you did sigh in disbelief as he shifted you onto his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. his arms wrapped loosely around you waist, then his forehead came to rest against your shoulder.

no smirk. no cocky remark. just stillness. he stayed quiet, but it wasn't peace.

it was tension. his arms were around you, but his jaw was clenched. you could feel it, he was holding back, like if he spoke, the wrong words would come out. again.

you sighed and stared straight ahead. "we already talked about this."

his fingers tightened a fraction around your waist. "...i know."

your throat tightened. "i already told you not to pull that shit again, seongje."

"...i know."

you pulled back, just enough to look at him, and he didn't meet your eyes. that alone annoyed you more than the words. it was like he was agreeing just to make it stop. like this whole thing wasn't serious, like he hadn't embarrassed you in front of your new friends, ignored you when you told him to stop, acted like you didn't matter in the middle of it all.

"if you're gonna talk like that," you said, voice sharpening like a blade, "then don't talk to me at all. and don't bother showing up if you're just gonna ignore everything i say."

that landed.

you felt it immediately, the way his arms stiffened around you, the sudden cold edge that cut through his expression. his head lifted slightly, and when he looked at you, his eyes had lost that sheepish desperation.

not angry at you, not quite, but he was frustrated. at the situation. at himself. at the fact that this wasn't going his way. seongje never liked not getting what he wanted. and right now, what he wanted was you to forgive him without making him feel small.

but he wasn't stupid. he knew what would happen if he pushed you again.

you'd gone silent on him before. days of unread messages, no answers, no sightings. it drove him halfway mad.

he'd sworn to himself he wouldn't let that happen again.

"...fine." his tone came sharp, his voice clipped. "i won't do it again."

you narrowed your eyes. that tone—like he was doing you a favor.

you stood up.

he grabbed your wrist before you could walk away, firm but not forceful. he didn't pull, just held.

then, in a voice that barely registered above a breath, he said, "i'm sorry."

you froze. he didn't look at you when he said it. his head was lowered again, gaze locked somewhere near the floor. his grip loosened slightly, as if expecting you to pull away. as if he'd already braced for the worst.

you didn't say anything.

you were still pissed. but still... there was something about the way he said it.

he did not apologize. not to anyone. he didn't believe in it. thought it was dumb. weak. but ever since he met you, he'd been doing a lot of things he never thought he would. giving in. holding back. trying.

and right now, it was written all over him, the struggle, the resentment, the need.

you didn't melt, not entirely, but something in you softened. just a little. because you knew what it took for him to say that word. and how much it killed him to be the one begging to be forgiven.

you stayed still. not because you didn't hear it, but because you did. because it sounded so unlike him that you needed a second just to let it settle in.

then with a quiet motion, his hand slid gently around your wrist, then your waist, coaxing you toward him until you were standing between his knees. he wrapped his arms around your hips, slow and steady, and leaned his head against your stomach.

not a word. just his arms, warm and solid. his forehead pressing into your shirt like he was waiting. not demanding, not begging. just waiting for you to forgive him.

you let out a long sigh, loud enough for him to hear. you weren't ready to let him off easy, not when you had every right to be upset, but you also weren't cruel.

your hand moved slowly to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair, rubbing at his scalp in small, deliberate strokes. that was all he needed.

seongje exhaled deeply, almost in relief, and pulled you into his lap again without a second's hesitation.

his forehead met yours, eyes locked on you with something softer than guilt. apology. maybe even gratitude. you could feel it, the way he was turning soft for you, even if he didn't know how to hold it. his rage never vanished, it just curled its way into something quieter.

your hands came up to cradle his face, fingers pressing gently into his cheeks. "i'm serious." you said, tilting his face toward yours so he couldn't look away. "you don't get to pretend like nothing happened. you have to actually try."

he didn't answer. didn't agree, didn't joke. just leaned in closer, and closer, waiting.

you didn't make him wait long.

the kiss wasn't rushed or hungry, it wasn't sharp like most of what existed between you. it was slow and careful. his mouth brushed yours like he still thought you might pull away. you didn't.

he sighed into your lips like he needed the kiss to steady him. and maybe he did.

when you finally pulled away, the kiss still warm on your lips, you let out a breath. not with frustration this time, but something gentler. something that settled deep in your chest.

you stared at him, eyes tracing every detail like you were trying to memorize him all over again. the dark lashes that curled a little too perfectly, the stubborn cut near his cheekbone, the beauty mark under his eye.

"you've got such a pretty face," you murmured, brushing a thumb across his cheek. "makes it easier to forgive you."

that was all it took. seongje flushed so fast it was almost impressive. his whole face went red, the color kept crawling down his neck and all the way to his ears.

"fuck off," he blurted and shoved you off his lap.

you stumbled backward with a yelp. but he was just as quick to shoot his hand out, fingers curling tight around your wrist to yank you right back in.

"fucking—stay still," he muttered, flustered beyond repair. he crushed you against his chest like a feral cat with its prey. his heart thudding hard against your ear, giving away everything he wouldn't say out loud.

you wriggled a little in protest, not really trying to escape. "you are so infuriating," you muttered, breathing out a laugh despite yourself. "you're lucky i love you."

you felt him stiffened. he didn't respond right away. just slumped forward, pressing his forehead against your shoulder like he couldn't take it. like those words short-circuited something inside him.

every single time you said it, he folded like a paper.

his breath faltered against your skin before he bit you. sharp and sudden, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp. you jerked against him in surprise, only to feel the swipe of his tongue over the spot like an apology.

"fuck," he rasped, voice rough. "stop saying shit like that."

"like what?" you asked, breath catching. you were still reeling from the bite.

he scoffed, but it was weak. almost like he choked on it. "you know what it does to me."

"so you want me to stop?" you tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet your eyes. "really?"

he didn't answer, didn't have to. because the look on his face said everything. the ache in his eyes, the way his mouth pressed into a tight line, the way his hands were still gripping your shirt like he was terrified you'd slip away if he let go.

"we're getting sidetracked. you can't just bite me and hope i'll forget."

he scowled. "worked last time."

"it didn't," you lied.

he narrowed his eyes. "then why aren't you yelling anymore?"

you rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "you are the worst."

eventually, he leaned in again. pressed his forehead to yours like he didn't know how else to be close. like saying sorry with words still felt foreign, but this, this closeness, he could do. you smiled.

"you're so adorable sometimes."

"shut up," he hissed through clenched teeth, burying his face into your neck to hide what little pride he had left. his arms coiled tighter around your waist, every inch of his body pressed close like you were the only thing anchoring him to the moment.

god, he belonged to you in ways even he didn't understand.

you ran your fingers through his hair, rubbing slow circles until his breathing evened out. he melted further, practically boneless in your arms. it would've been funny if it weren't so stupidly endearing.

it was that time of the month again. and like clockwork, seongje was at your beck and call.

it was funny, really, how he responded to your cramps like it was a code red emergency every time. he didn't hover exactly, but he was always there. like a shadow. like a guard dog. like someone who had once made a silent promise to never let you suffer alone, even if the enemy was just your own hormones.

it was during the early months of your relationship, back when everything still felt too new. seongje had texted you one saturday morning, casually demanding your presence like he always did. as usual, he expected you to say yes.

instead, you replied with, 'not in the mood'.

it was short, not your usual way of responding to him. well, unless you were upset.

his call came seconds later.

"what the hell do you mean, not in the mood?" his tone sharp, offended, as if the very idea of you turning him down was a personal attack.

you didn't even flinch. just lay there in bed, clutching your stomach. "i'm on my period. i have bad cramps," you answered, voice flat, tired, unbothered.

then there was silence. total silence.

you pulled the phone away from your ear to check if the call had ended.

"hello? still there?"

"...yeah." his voice was lower now. unsure. "i'm here." he paused. "is there... anything i can do?"

you would've laughed, only if you weren't doubled over from pain. it was obvious he didn't know how to react, probably regretting all his impulsive dramatics from three minutes ago. his brain spiraling now that you dropped a truth too real and too biological for someone like him to handle without mentally imploding.

"no, you don't have to do anything. i'll see you next week once i stop dying."

you had imagined him on the other end, slack-jawed and helpless. no cocky comebacks. no pushback. just stunned silence as he tried to process that there were some things he couldn't fix by throwing fists.

but it turns out he had a way of surprising you.

later that same day, he'd shown up at your doorstep. no warning, no messages. just him, standing there with a plastic bag in one hand, a pint of your favorite ice cream in the other, and the most unconvincing attempt at indifference painted across his face.

you blinked at him, confused. "what are you doing here?"

"well," he muttered, eyes darting away. "didn't say i couldn't show up."

his tone was clipped, almost sulky, but you could see the way his eyes flickered nervously, scanning your face like he was bracing himself for rejection. he stood there stiffly, shifting his weight from foot to foot. ready to bolt if you said the word. instead, you let him in.

you spent the afternoon on the couch. he kept his distance, which was weird, suspiciously well-behaved. seongje didn't like giving you space. physical contact had been his default setting ever since he stopped feeling awkward about it. but that day, he was stiff as a board, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the tv like he was forcing himself to focus on the movie.

you didn't comment. just accepted the ice cream and slowly ate it beside him in silence.

and after a while, once the worst of the cramps dulled, you quietly shifted closer and tucked yourself against his side.

"thanks," you murmured, lips brushing the sleeve of his shirt.

he didn't say anything. just exhaled, and finally let his arm wrap around you. not possessively, not urgently, just enough to keep you close, careful not to press where it hurt.

it was the first time he took care of you like that. the first time he showed that he could. it became a routine ever since.

and now, he was still at it.

seongje was sprawled on the floor in front of you, leaning against the coffee table with a bag of heating pads and snacks. he reached up to hand you a warm bottle wordlessly, brows furrowed like he was the one in pain.

"you look like a kicked dog," you mumbled from your cocoon of blankets.

"i feel like one," he grumbled. "you act like you're dying and i'm just supposed to watch?"

"i am dying."

he rolled his eyes but didn't argue. instead, he sat back and stared at the tv, clearly bored. his leg bounced. his fingers drummed.

"wanna fight?"

you didn't even look at him. "no."

"not even verbally? i could call you something mean."

"you could leave."

"or i could stay and be annoying."

"you already are."

he smirked because you were talking. which meant you weren't mad at him for hovering. slowly, he crawled onto the couch, ignoring your half-hearted attempts to push him off. when he finally wedged himself beside you and laid his head in your lap, you sighed.

"i didn't forget your favorite dessert this time."

"that's called being decent."

"it's called caring, brat."

you snorted. "say that again. i dare you."

he sat up halfway, looking like he might say something bold, but thought better of it and flopped back down.

"don't die. i'll get bored." he muffled.

you laughed quietly. when you leaned down to press a kiss to his temple, his eye twitched, like his brain malfunctioned.

"what now?" he asked suspiciously.

"nothing," you said, lips curving into a soft smile. "i just really like you."

he grunted, annoyed. but the red tint in his ears said everything else.

you both weren't doing anything particularly special. just walking. trees lining the path had turned shades of amber, rust, and gold. seongje walked beside you, hands in his coat pockets, shoulders loose, completely at ease.

it was nice. quiet. comfortable.

and maybe that was why it hit you.

you blinked up at the sky, pale and moody in that late-autumn kind of way, and suddenly felt it settle in your chest—that ache. the one that always came with change.

"we're graduating soon," you murmured without meaning to.

he glanced at you, squinting against the sun. "yeah?"

you hummed. there was no need to elaborate, but your brain wouldn't stop there.

soon you'd walk across that stage. soon you'd be holding a degree in your hands. and what then?

what would you be without exams, without early morning classes, without the label of student tied neatly to your identity like a tag?

what would you do?

what would you be?

would everything change?

you didn't mean to spiral, but—

your eyes flicked toward seongje again. he was half a step ahead now, kicking at a stray pinecone. wind caught the ends of his hair, curling them against his cheek. his profile was all sharp lines and shadows, beautiful in the way he always was, aggressively so.

and just like that, it steadied you.

there was a time you thought you wouldn't make it past the first year. too different. too messy. too much history clinging to his name, and too much doubt hanging in the air.

but now, years later, here he was. still beside you. still loud and reckless and impulsive, but softer. only for you. not always, not overtly, but in the little ways that mattered.

he was still him. but somehow, better.

you didn't notice when your steps slowed. he did.

"you good?" he asked, brow quirking.

"yeah," your voice cracked on the word, embarrassingly emotional. you cleared your throat. "just thinking."

"that's dangerous," you let out a breathless laugh.

"do you ever think about how far we've come?"

he stared at you like you just asked him to solve a math equation. "from where?"

"from where we started."

he rolled his eyes. "you hated me when we met."

"you deserved it."

"no arguments there."

you smiled. "but still. you're here."

something passed over his face then, brief, unreadable. but then he was looking away, jaw shifting like he didn't know what to do with the way your words made his chest feel tight.

you reached out and took his hand.

"thank you," you said.

"for what?"

"for everything."

"you're acting like i'm gonna die tomorrow."

you huffed. "you're impossible."

"and you're sappy."

"only when it comes to you."

he made a face, looked away quickly. you caught the tips of his ears turning pink.

maybe it was the way the sunlight filtered through the orange leaves. or maybe it was just the clarity of a moment where nothing else seemed to matter. but you felt it again.

the weight in your chest. but this time, it wasn't fear. it was peace.

with him, the world felt a little less terrifying. a little more manageable. like no matter what the future threw at you, how uncertain, how intimidating, how vast, he'd still be beside you. loud and annoying and occasionally stupid, but there.

yours.

you linked your arm with his, casual like it meant nothing. then you leaned your head against his shoulder. he didn't say anything. just bumped you gently with his arm.

you two kept walking.

but that was everything you could have asked for.

you were making something simple for the two of you, moving around the kitchen with that quiet ease he'd grown used to. the soft clinks and rustles of your movements, it filled the room like background noise he never wanted to lose.

it was the way your presence still settled into his space like it was meant to be there. even after all these years, it still caught him off guard sometimes. how much of his life had quietly shaped itself around you.

he'd never tell you this, wouldn't even admit it if you pried it out of his skull. but somewhere between the convenience store runs and moments he found you sleeping on his shoulder, something in him had slowed down.

he knew then. fuck, he knew. that this was it for him. that there was no one else, and there wouldn't ever be.

and if he wanted to keep you, if he wanted to deserve that kind of peace, then he couldn't keep living like none of it mattered. something had to give.

not because you asked him to. you didn't, even when he was at his worst. you never looked at him with disappointment, never threw his mess in his face like you could've. you saw him. took him as he was, back when he was still half-feral and too wild to sit still for anything except your voice. that was the thing. you loved him without conditions. and that's what made it worse.

because no one ever asked him to be better. and now he wanted to be. just for you.

so he started small. stopped smoking around you the second he realized you didn't like the smell. you never said anything, but then he noticed the way your nose crinkled slightly when he leaned in too close. you still held his face, kissed him like nothing was wrong. but that was enough. he wanted you to want to be close.

he stopped picking fights for the thrill of it. started actually thinking ahead. he still cracked jaws if someone touched you or looked at you the wrong way, but he wasn't out for blood just to feel alive anymore. not when he had you. not when you made him feel alive more than anything else.

he had something better, something real.

he didn't say anything at first. just watched you from the couch, arms draped across the backrest, hair messy, shirt still wrinkled from sleep.

you were just making breakfast like you sometimes did when you stayed over.

but goddamn, he could barely breathe just watching you move.

there were some moments, fleeting and unpredictable, when the weight of how much he loved you knocked the air straight out of his lungs. when his body didn't know what to do with the feeling, and his heart felt too small to hold it all.

this was one of those moments.

he got up without thinking.

you didn't notice him watching. you were too focused, hands moving with quiet intent, your eyes fixed, lips set in that soft line you always wore when you were busy doing something.

he hovered nearby, restless, pacing, almost like he didn't know where to put himself. until finally, he reached for you, curling his fingers gently around your wrist.

you looked up, and there it was again.

the second your eyes met his, the entire world silenced. your lips parted, breath hitching, because that look in his eyes, it always made you want to cry.

he was looking at you like you were the whole damn world.

and you were.

"something up?" you asked in a quiet voice.

he didn't answer. instead, he gently took your hand, fingers a little clumsy, a little too tight, and interlaced them with his own, like it was the only way he could keep the feelings from spilling out of his chest.

and then, with a quiet breath, he brought your joined hands to his lips.

he kissed your ring finger.

slowly. tenderly. reverently.

not like someone touching skin. but like someone touching a vow.

your breath caught.

he held your gaze. "i don't want anything that doesn't have you in it."

his voice was low. rough. not quite steady. his eyes flickered, not with fear, but something close to desperation. like the feeling was too big, too much, and he didn't know how to bleed it out except through touch.

and you understood.

it was all there. in the way his fingers clung to yours, in the way his lips trembled slightly as they brushed your skin, in the way he looked like he'd shatter if you even thought of letting go.

his face became blurry, but you blinked it away.

you just smiled softly and pressed your forehead against his. "good," you whispered. "you're the only one i want to do this life with."

he exhaled, slow and uneven, like your words reached somewhere deep in him that he didn't let anyone else near.

being with him was never easy. there were days he'd withdraw into himself, frustrated with things he couldn't name. times when you wouldn't understand why he shut down, or lashed out, or made things harder than they had to be.

there were arguments, silence, sometimes it hurt, and it took time to come back from that.

but love like yours and his was never meant to be easy.

it was raw. unforgiving in its honesty. and undeniably real.

you never regretted a second of it. not even the ugliest parts.

and maybe—

maybe he didn't have a ring now. maybe it was still hidden in a drawer, still waiting for the perfect moment.

maybe he'd already gone to your parents, awkward and twitchy and sweating like a fucking idiot, asking for your hand even though the very idea of "asking permission" made his skin itch.

maybe it was the first time in his entire life he had ever felt that afraid.

maybe they'd said yes.

they'd seen it, eventually. what you saw. what he'd become for you. what he would always be.

and maybe, just maybe, he was going to give you that ring on your graduation. when the future is right in front of you, when you'd already proven to the world and each other that you could survive it.

but for now, this was enough.

your forever didn't need a clock.

because he knew that he'd keep loving you like it was still the beginning. like every day was the first time you made his chest hurt just by looking at him.

even when life got dull. even when things slowed down. you'd still have all of him.

always.

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tipsywithintent · 2 days ago

Text

⋆ ★ You Never Call Me.⋆ ★

✩ Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship

✩ Word count: 1170

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Living with your boyfriend came with some non-negotiables. With Kiyoomi, that list was… detailed.

No outside shoes past the entryway. Shower first if you’ve been in a crowd. And parties - well, those were a you thing. Not a him thing. Ever.

He never stopped you from going. Never guilted you or made you feel bad about enjoying yourself. But when things got wild, and you drank a little too much or needed a ride home, you knew better than to call him.

He hated crowds. Hated drunk strangers brushing up against him. Hated touching things that smelled like beer and regret.

So, you always called your best friend instead. It was easier - for both of you. At least, that’s what you thought.

Until one night, everything shifted.

⸻

Your phone died somewhere around midnight, just after you’d spilled half a cocktail on yourself and started getting dizzy from the lights. Your friend was late, and the sidewalk was cold beneath you as you sat curled near the curb, trying to hum a song that wouldn’t stick in your head.

When headlights pulled up, you didn’t expect to see his car. And when the driver’s door opened, and Sakusa stepped out in a hoodie and mask, you thought for a second you might be hallucinating.

“…Kiyoomi?”

His eyes narrowed as he looked down at you. “You didn’t call. You always call them."

“I - phone died…”

“I figured. So I called your friend. They didn’t know where you were. I tracked your location from the app you forgot you shared with me.” His voice was calm, almost too calm. “Get in the car.”

You stood - wobbled, really - and he took a half step forward, then stopped himself. His hands hovered, like he wanted to catch you but couldn’t quite bring himself to touch you yet.

Once you were seated, seatbelt buckled by your own slow hands, he started the engine. You could see how tightly he gripped the steering wheel.

⸻

At home, Sakusa didn’t say much. He helped you inside, let you lean on the hallway wall instead of him, and guided you toward the bathroom.

There was water waiting. Aspirin. A damp towel that he passed to you with the sleeve of his hoodie shielding his hand. Still no words.

When you stumbled into bed in one of his spare shirts, he gently laid a second blanket over you. His movements were careful - almost clinical - but there was something tender beneath the way he tucked it around your shoulders.

And then he sat on the edge of the bed, mask off, curls slightly messy from stress. “Sleep,” he said quietly. “We’ll talk later.”

⸻

You woke to a hangover and a full pitcher of water by your bedside. Sakusa was already in the kitchen, hair tied up, wiping down the counter even though it was already spotless.

You padded in on bare feet, clutching the sleeves of his oversized shirt. “…Hey.”

He glanced at you, then looked back down at the counter. “Morning. Feeling like death?”

“Little bit.”

“Aspirin’s still by the sink.”

You took it in silence, trying to read him. His shoulders were tense.

When you finally sat across from him, the quiet stretched thin between you.

And then, he said it.

“You always call them.”

Not angry. Not cold. Just… hurt.

You blinked. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t think I’d come get you.”

“I know you hate parties. The people, the smells. I didn’t want to drag you into that.”

“You’re my girlfriend,” he said, voice tight now. “You think I care more about being annoyed than knowing you’re safe?”

You shrank a little under the weight of it. “…No.”

“I sat here last night thinking about where you could be. Wondering if someone had taken advantage of how drunk you were. I don’t care if I hate parties, or touching people, or standing in line to get to you. I care about you.”

You stared at him, eyes wide, chest twisting.

He looked down at the table, like he regretted snapping. Then, in a quieter voice: “You didn’t even give me the chance.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t think it would matter.”

“It matters.”

He stood slowly, walked over to where you were sitting, and rested a hand on your head - tentative, soft, but real. His fingers brushed your hair, then your cheek.

“You can always call me,” he said, eyes locked on yours. “I’ll come. Every time.”

Your throat tightened. “Even if I smell like club air and regret?”

He sighed and smiled - actually smiled, just a little. “I’ll disinfect everything later.”

And then, carefully, like it was nothing - and everything - he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

#sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa x you #sakusa kiyoomi #msby sakusa #hq sakusa #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader

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redrosydiaz · 2 days ago

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it is unbearably hot today, so i am thinking about buck and eddie, whose AC is very inconveniently out, and can’t be fixed until at least tomorrow. christopher is at a friend’s house, for the first pool party of the summer, lucky kid, meanwhile buck and eddie are stuck inside with every single fan they own plugged in on full blast — but even that’s not really helping much. the fans offer a nice breeze, but they’re also kind of just circulating the hot air that’s already inside, so it does very little to actually cool them down. eddie is wearing (sweating through, more like) a pair of basketball shorts and one of those thin, slutty black tank tops of his, meanwhile buck’s got on a pair of (teeny tiny) running shorts and no shirt — he lost his about an hour ago when the feeling of the fabric sticking to his back started to bother him too much.

they’re sitting on the couch together — shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, even though it’s way too hot for that — because doing anything other than just existing is unthinkable in this heat. two fresh bottles of beer sit on the coffee table, condensation sweating down the sides and pooling into a slowly growing puddle on top of the coasters. there are also two discarded popsicle wrappers — because things got desperate enough that buck and eddie raided christopher’s popsicle stash in the freezer to try and cool down.

buck eats his popsicle with relish, chasing the cool relief it offers, brief as it is, with abandon. he eats it quickly, not minding the brain freeze it might prompt because, well, at least something will be frozen in this oven of a house. eddie, on the other hand, is a little more controlled about it. he takes his time with it, opting to savor every cool lick, every chilled bite. but, of course, in a temperature this hot, eddie’s popsicle is not winning the race against the heat, so, naturally, it starts to melt. eddie tries to catch the juice as it starts to run, but he’s not quick enough, and it ends up dripping all across his fingers, own his wrist, too. a few drops even land on his bare thigh, where his shorts have ridden up in his sprawl.

buck teases him about it, about not being fast enough, about making such a mess, but he also can’t take his eyes off of it. the sticky sweet fruit juice clinging to eddie’s knuckles, gathering in the webbing between his fingers, trickling over the delicate bones of his wrist.

eddie finishes the popsicle quickly after that, tossing the empty stick alongside buck’s on the coffee table. his hand is still raised in front of him, fingers spread as he examines the mess, laughing at it a little. he shifts, then, like he’s about to gather the energy to rise up and head for the kitchen, for the sink, to clean up.

and maybe it’s the heat getting to him, or maybe it’s just eddie, who always drives buck crazy, but just as eddie makes to stand, buck’s hand darts out to stop him. to curl around eddie’s forearm, to draw him back down onto the couch, to pull that messy hand towards himself.

eddie laughs again, opens his mouth to ask buck what the hell he’s doing, but his words die on his tongue as buck, without any preamble, folds eddie’s hand into a loose first and guides the two fingers he left sticking out right into his mouth.

eddie makes a choked noise, mind going blissfully blank as he gapes at buck — buck, who is going to town on eddie’s hand, just like he did that popsicle, only this time he’s taking his time with it. trailing his tongue carefully over eddie’s knuckles, in between his fingers, down the veins on the back of his hand, flat across his palm.

it’s— it’s fucking intoxicating. makes eddie’s head swim more than it should be after just one beer and a popsicle. it sends a shiver down his spine that has nothing to do with the temperature. it’s from an entirely new heat coursing through eddie’s body. one he can feel building in his gut, licking into his veins, lighting up his nerve endings. something that is all buck.

once eddie’s hand is as clean as it can be, buck lets it go, and for a moment, eddie thinks that might be it. that buck will send him one of those cheeky smirks and settle back into his place beside eddie, perfectly content to start something and not finish it, the fucking tease. eddie wouldn’t put that past him. if there’s one thing buck loves, it’s riling eddie up.

but, buck doesn’t do that.

he lets eddie’s hand go, and he starts to shift on the couch, but instead of returning to his previous sprawl, he turns fully towards eddie, scoots back, stretches out, then—

— he starts to lower himself. slowly, slowly, slowly, until he’s nearly flat against the couch, level with eddie’s lap. he’s mere inches from the unmistakable bulge eddie is now sporting in his shorts, close enough that eddie can feel each hot pant of breath against the inside of his thighs. he squirms in his seat, anticipation thrumming through his body.

one of buck’s hands moves towards eddie, and eddie’s breath catches in his throat — only, buck curls his palm around eddie’s hip, fingers pressing into the soft skin of his waist. and buck starts to lean down, but— instead of nosing at his trapped cock, like eddie half expected him to, buck drops his mouth open, wets his lips, then closes his mouth over the soft skin of eddie’s thigh — right where those few drops of popsicle juice landed. he laves at the skin, thick, slow strokes of his tongue, then sucks hard. hard enough to leave a new stain of red in its place.

eddie gasps, drops his head back against the edge of the couch. bites down hard on the inside of his cheek and does everything in his power not to jerk his hips up, to seek out some sort of pressure, some sort of friction. buck is so close, but, still, so far, too. and with each kiss, each bite, each new bruise he sucks into eddie’s sensitive skin, eddie feels his resolve slipping.

and then, buck’s grip loosens on his hip, and his hand starts to snake its way up. up eddie’s abdomen, catching the hem of his tank top and taking it with him, pushing it up his stomach, up his ribs, up his chest until it’s bunched near his collar. he presses his hand to the center of eddie’s chest, palm flat, fingers splayed, and then, in one fluid motion that eddie’s sluggish brain can’t quite comprehend, he finds himself suddenly flat on his back on the cushion, buck half straddling him and poised above him.

and then buck’s ducking down to catch eddie’s mouth in a kiss. hot and wet and luxurious. slowly, his body presses down into eddie’s, pinning him to the couch with his weight. and, it’s way too hot for this, to be crushed together like this, flush at every point possible, but buck doesn’t care, and eddie doesn’t care either, is, in fact, clutching at buck’s back, holding him down on top of him. buck’s practically mounted atop eddie’s thigh, one of his own wedged between eddie’s legs, his other trapped between eddie and the couch. their hips move against each others in a lazy, lethargic grind. it’s too hot to pick up a really good rhythm, but good god, if this isn’t perfect anyways. they’re working up even more of a sweat, their skin sticking together where it’s touching, clothes soaked through. their kissing is barely even kissing anymore, just the two of them pressed together, panting into each other’s mouths, until buck trails his wet mouth across eddie’s cheek and buries his face into eddie’s neck. he breathes in the musk of him, presses his open mouth over eddie’s sweat-slick skin. his tongue lolls out, laps up the salt clinging to eddie’s heated skin. he sucks bruise after bruise into the crook of it.

they keep that up, that languorous grind until they’re both on the edge, and it only picks up the pace then, turning into something more desperate, something more frenzied in these last few moments, before they both fall over the edge, making even more of a mess of themselves as they come in their shorts.

they collapse into one another, as the highs of their orgasms start to fade. and it’s— it’s gross, probably. the both of them still slick with sweat and spit and now come, too. but it’s so hot, still, and neither of them want to move. not yet. so they just lie there, on the couch, a total mess. it is uncomfortable — buck’s body is heavy, on top of him, and eddie can feel both of them sweating in places he didn’t even know they could sweat. but— he kind of loves it.

he kind of loves buck. obviously.

so he doesn’t move. and buck doesn’t move. and they just, bask, in each other. in their sweat. in their stink.

until finally finally, eddie doesn’t even know how much later, buck starts to squirm, and he lifts himself up onto his elbows over eddie, leans down for a kiss, then tells him they should probably go shower. and, eddie still kind of doesn’t want to move, still kind of just wants to lie here with buck, melding together. but, he nods, agrees. lets buck get off of him, and then takes buck’s hand when it’s offered, and he lets buck lead him into the bathroom—

—where they squeeze into their shower together, turn the water on cold enough, and proceed to get messy in a whole new way.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 #mack writes

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snailsgoingdowntown · 3 days ago

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Dion Agriche x fem! Reader

Arranged marriage.

Tw: implied toxic familial dynamics, amnesia

Minors/blank blogs (no content and bio doesn't count) dni

= = =

Imagine this:

It's been a busy week. His eyes feel heavy so, he changes and manages to fall asleep for once. However his head was throbbing in pain before and after he woke up to sunlight, blinking his bleary eyes.

Dio gets ready, per usual. Alone like how he likes it, but he's still extremely groggy. It's only when he looks in the mirror does he realize his hair is longer, a mullet haircut instead of the messy short hair he had yesterday.

His face also looks more mature, sharper.

He blinks. This must be a dream despite how heavy his joints feel.

Still he continues, confused but for some reason, as foreign as it feels it also feels familiar. Well, it probably doesn't matter - after all, this is a dream. Dream logic never makes sense.

He's greeted by a strange sight in the hallway on the way to his father's office.

An extremely gorgeous and stunning woman with golden hair and ruby eyes glares at him once they make eye contact. It takes him a moment to recognize her, even though her voice got a bit deeper.

Roxana.

She looks older. Sharper features but softer than his. Did she also get a bit taller?

What a weird dream.

"Dion." She says his like like it's a curse, venom dripping in her tone. So, even in his dreams she hates him. Checks out.

He doesn't see the point in returning it. One more glance before he walks past her. Her footsteps stop completely. She calls out to him again.

He stops, curious.

However before she could say another word, another unexpected appearance shows up, and again it takes him a second to realize who it is.

"Ugh. Dion. Oh, sis! Is he bothering you again?"

Jeremy's taller. More built. Deeper voice but the hatred in his eyes is more fierce than ever before. But of course the youth is reduced to nothing more than a pathetic puppy once he sees their sister.

"... You look off."

"Off? How so?" The dream continues.

"Like you haven't seen me before." She sounds somewhat unsure. Dion tilts his head as he thinks of a reply.

"I haven't. Not like this."

Thick silence falls over the three half-siblings.

Roxana and Jeremy look at each other.

He walks away, ignoring their calls.

THUD

A smaller frame, shorter than him. A small yelp that...

Crimson eyes look down to see a young woman. (H/c) hair that's loose, a purple dress that compliments her figure, simple yet expensive and elegant jewelry. (E/c) optics look up at him as the woman holds her nose in pain.

No fear in her eyes. Or disgust. But he thinks there's a very small glimmer of 'affection' in her eyes as she blinks up at him.

... He doesn't like that look. It makes his stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Dion?"

He hates the way you say his name.

He speaks without thinking.

"Who are you?"

#the way to protect the female lead's older brother #dion agriche x reader #dion agriche #twtptflob

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ceyanabbiolo · 2 days ago

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PHOTOGRAPH // M.S [04]

Summary: Daphne Denoire, a 21-year-old, returns to Boston to after 3 years—but working for her brother’s best friend, Matthew Sturniolo, wasn’t part of the plan. He’s a 26-year-old multimillionaire. She’s the girl he was never supposed to feel this way about. With secrets between them and boundaries set, how far will they go for a love they never saw coming?

Warnings: none.

wc: 4657

Chapter 4: Sweetheart

“I don’t know, Daph,” Noah’s voice was hesitant on the other end of the line.

“What do you mean? It’s a great opportunity—you know how hard it’s been for me to find work.”

“I know,” he said. “But Matt? He’s basically family.”

“Exactly. Shouldn’t that make him more trustworthy?”

Noah clearly wasn’t thrilled about the idea of me working with Matt. I really didn’t understand why.

"Why?" I asked quietly.

Noah didn’t answer right away, but I heard the frustrated sigh that slipped through the phone.

“Did you already agree to it?” he asked.

“Technically… yeah.”

He let out another sigh. “You don’t need my permission to take the job, Daph. I just— I worry about mixing work and personal relationships. It gets messy.”

“Well, Matt isn’t my friend,” I said, sharper than I intended. “He’s yours.”

That shut him up for a moment. The silence on the line felt heavier than before, like I’d said something I wasn’t supposed to. It was true, though—Matt had always been Noah’s best friend, not mine. I had barely known the guy, well…outside my childhood delusional fantasies.

“Plus,” I added, trying to ease the tension, “it’s only a one-year contract. It’s a chance to get experience, build my portfolio.”

Noah’s line went quiet again. I waited, fingers twisting the edge of the blanket draped over my lap.

Then, finally, he spoke.

“I’m proud of you, Daph. Seriously.” He let out a breath. “I want you to do what makes you happy.”

His words were sincere, but there was still something heavy in his tone—like he was trying to convince himself it would all be fine.

“I’m excited to finally be out of the house,” I said, my voice a little softer now.

“Yeah,” he replied. “That’ll be good for you.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. The silence that followed felt a little awkward, like neither of us knew what to say next.

“So… you’re good though, right, Daph?” he asked after a pause, his voice quieter, almost hesitant. “You’re not… sad or anything?”

He always did this—asked if I was okay like it made him uncomfortable, like he wanted to know but didn’t really want to hear the answer.

I just hummed in response. I wasn’t comfortable opening up—not when he’d never really made me feel like it was safe to do so.

Don’t get me wrong, after I told Noah what happened, he was furious. The kind of quiet, burning rage that sat just beneath the surface. He didn’t need many details either—just the mention of a dragon tattoo on the guy’s left arm, and he knew.

He called the police that same night. By morning, a guy named Carter was in handcuffs.

But after that, Noah never wanted to talk about it. He never asked if I needed anything or if I wanted to talk. All he said was that I should forget it ever happened and try to move on.

No one else knew—not our aunts, uncles, or anyone in the family.

The case moved quietly, and it ended just as quietly. Noah said it was best to keep it that way, that the news didn’t need to spread.

I didn’t disagree. I didn’t want people knowing either.

Still, that year changed me—in ways I don’t think anyone fully understands.

Junior year was awful after what happened. I lost all my friends that year. I stopped hanging out, stopped responding. I was distant, moody, and always tired. No one really asked why—they just slowly drifted away.

My grades tanked, too. Everything felt heavy and pointless.

It wasn’t until senior year that things started to shift. A counselor pulled me aside one day and asked what was going on. She didn’t press, but she told me I needed to get my grades up if I wanted to graduate on time.

So I tried. Not for anyone else—just to prove to myself I still could.

I tell myself it doesn’t haunt me, not four years later. I remind myself that so much has changed since then. New city. New apartment. New goals. A version of me that’s stronger, more guarded, more in control.

But no matter how much I try to forget, my mind always drags me back—to that house, that night, my old room. The sound of the door creaking. The weight of silence. The way the blanket was yanked off me like I didn’t matter.

Even now, it follows me in small, quiet ways. I lock my bedroom door even when I’m home alone. Loud knocks make my chest tighten. I can’t fall asleep without triple-checking the locks.

I still can’t stand the smell of his cologne—sandalwood and something sharp. I can’t wear soft fleece blankets anymore. I sleep under quilts now, because they feel less like then.

I freeze up when someone touches me unexpectedly, even if it’s innocent. My body tenses before my mind catches up.

People think I’m shy, or just private. Maybe I am. More than that, I’m protecting what’s left of me. The parts I managed to piece back together.

MATTHEW

I was lounging around in bed when Noah’s FaceTime call popped up on my screen.

“What’s good?” I answered, adjusting the phone so he didn’t see the mess of blankets around me.

Noah’s face appeared, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“What’s good, bro,” he echoed, leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world.

I raised a brow. “You callin’ just to copy my greeting or…?”

He let out a low chuckle. “Nah, I heard you offered my sister a job.”

Ah. There it was.

I rolled my eyes, staring at him through the screen. “So?”

“So?” he echoed, mocking me. “You can’t just go around offering my little sister a job without telling me.”

I leaned back against the headboard, unbothered. “Didn’t realize I needed your permission to hire someone qualified.”

He scoffed. “It’s not about permission. It’s about boundaries. She’s—she’s not just anyone, bro.”

“I know that,” I said, my tone steady. “That’s exactly why I offered it. She’s talented. She needs the experience, and I trust her.”

“You trust her?” Noah raised an eyebrow, giving me a look. “Or are you just too lazy to go through the whole hiring process?”

I smirked. “Maybe a little of both.”

He didn’t look amused. “Why do you even need a personal photographer anyway?”

“Been looking for one, to be honest, and the opportunity just… presented itself.”

I watched as Noah slowly nodded, like he was chewing on his thoughts, holding something back.

“Alright, man,” he finally said with a sigh. “Just… don’t be a rude boss or anything. She’s a sensitive person.”

I tilted my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. “You saying I’m usually a rude boss?”

“I’m saying you have a tone,” he said flatly. “And Daphne’s not like other people. She takes things to heart. Just… be decent.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” I said, holding up a hand in surrender.

Noah gave me one last pointed look before leaning back in his chair. “Alright then. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Later,” I said, and the call ended with a soft beep.

I set my phone down on the nightstand and stared at the ceiling for a second, thinking.

Daphne.

This was going to be interesting.

I swung my legs off the bed, grabbed my keys and helmet from the dresser, then headed downstairs to the garage.

I lifted my helmet, swung my leg over the motorcycle, and fired up the engine.

The cool morning air rushed past as I made my way to Daphne’s apartment. My mind wandered for a moment, thinking about how much she’d changed—still that quiet, guarded look in her eyes, but sharper now, stronger. I wasn’t sure if she knew just how much I was counting on her.

When I arrived, I parked in my usual spot and headed up to the 11th floor. I took a deep breath before knocking twice on her door, steadying myself.

The door swung open, and there she was—Daphne, looking just a little surprised to see me. Her eyes scanned my face like she wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

“Matt? What are you doing here?” Her voice was cautious, a hint of confusion in it.

I caught myself studying the way the morning light hit her hair, how her expression softened when she realized it was me.

“I’m taking you to the company,” I said, keeping my tone calm but firm.

“What?” she blinked, eyes wide. “Why?”

I let out a soft chuckle. “Because you’ll be working for me. So, I need you to sign a bunch of paperwork.”

The realization slowly dawned on her face.

“Oh, yeah. Right.”

“Yeah, right,” I teased with a smirk. “Let’s go.”

She suddenly froze, a hint of panic in her eyes.

“Wait—hold up. I can’t go out like this. I need to change,” she said, before darting back into her room.

I leaned against the doorframe, watching her disappear, shaking my head with a small smile. Thats cute.

After five minutes, she reappeared, looking a bit more put together.

“Alright,” I said,. “Let’s go now.”

We stepped outside into the bright morning, and I headed straight for the motorcycle parked near the building.

I walked slightly in front of her, leading her to where it was parked.

She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide as she stared at the bike.

“You ride that?” she asked, her voice unsure.

I smiled, leaning casually against the handlebars. “Yeah. Best way around.”

Her face paled, and she took a hesitant step back. “I…I don’t know Matt”

I raised an eyebrow, cocky as ever. “Scared? It’s not that bad.”

She shook her head, hands fidgeting nervously. “I don’t think I can do that.”

I straightened up, flashing a confident grin. “Look, I promise you won’t die. I’ve been riding this thing for a while. Just hold onto me, okay?”

She glanced up, a hesitant smile tugging at her lips. “Okay… but don’t go too fast.”

I reached into my bag and pulled out the extra helmet, holding it out to her.

She took it awkwardly, and when I gently placed it on her head, her cheeks flushed a soft pink. It was a quiet, almost sweet moment — the way her eyes flickered to mine, a little shy, a little unsure.

I swung my leg over the bike and started the engine, the low rumble vibrating beneath us. “Alright, hop on.”

She hesitated for a second, then had to jump up to settle behind me, her feet barely reaching the footrests.

��Hold on to me,” I said, turning slightly so she could hear the calm in my voice.

She hesitated, then placed her hands on my shoulders. I chuckled softly.

“On my waist, sweetheart”

I heard her mumble, “My bad,” before sliding her hands down to wrap around my waist.

I didn’t know why I got this feeling in my stomach at that.

I kept my pace steady, slow enough for her to get used to the feeling but fast enough that the rush of air made her hair lift gently behind her.

“You good back there?” I asked with a smirk.

“Yeah, just… it’s a little bumpy,” she admitted quietly.

I glanced back, catching the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

“That’s normal,” I said. “ I’ve got you.”

At one point, I had to accelerate a bit, and I felt her instinctively lean forward, gripping me tighter around the waist.

The sudden closeness sent a jolt through me—her heartbeat quickening against my back, her hands firm but tentative.

I glanced over my shoulder and caught her eyes, wide with a mix of fear and trust.

“See? Not so bad,” I said softly, easing off the throttle to slow us down again.

She let out a breath she’d been holding and relaxed just a little, though her hands didn’t loosen their hold.

After a few more minutes, I guided the bike smoothly to the entrance of my company building.

I cut the engine, and the sudden silence was almost startling after the roar of the ride.

Daphne carefully lifted her feet down, steadying herself as we dismounted.

She glanced up at the sleek glass doors, still holding onto her helmet, her cheeks flushed from the ride and nerves.

I led Daphne through the gleaming lobby, the quiet hum of the building a sharp contrast to the morning ride.

When we reached the elevator, I pressed the button, and the doors slid open smoothly.

“Floor 15,” I said, stepping inside and gesturing for her to follow.

Once the doors closed, I glanced over at her—still a little nervous but trying to keep it together.

As we stepped out, I headed straight to my team’s workspace.

“Everyone, this is Daphne,” I announced as we entered the open-plan office buzzing with activity.

Heads looked up, some curious, some welcoming.

I pulled out a chair for her. “She’ll be working with us as our new photographer.”

One of my colleagues smiled and handed her a tablet loaded with the initial paperwork.

“Here’s your contract and some forms to get started,” one of my assistants said kindly.

I stayed nearby, watching as Daphne read through the documents.

“Any questions, just ask,” I said.

She looked up at me, a hint of gratitude in her eyes.

“Thanks, Matt.”

“Welcome to the team, Daphne,” I replied with a small smile.

When we finished all the paperwork, which took like a whole hour to finish, I turned to her with a smile. “How do you feel?” I asked as we started walking out.

She glanced up at me, a genuine smile softening her features. “Good, actually. I feel good.”

I nodded, pleased to hear it.

“Hey, look,” I started, glancing her way. “You hungry? I was thinking about grabbing some food.”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, I guess I could eat.”

I grinned. “Alright, i’ll find somewhere good nearby.”

I watched her nod slowly, then pulled out my phone and started scrolling for food spots nearby.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Daphne staring down at her feet, unusually quiet. It wasn’t like the shy silence from earlier—this felt more like she was lost in thought.

“Alright, got one,” I said, looking up. “Let’s go.”

I handed her the helmet and turned toward the bike, ready to hop on—until I heard a soft, uncertain, “Help?”

I turned back and couldn’t help but chuckle. She was fumbling with the chin strap, brows furrowed in frustration.

“Here,” I said, stepping in. “Let me.”

Her hands dropped as I carefully fastened the helmet for her, my fingers brushing against her skin for just a second.

“There,” I murmured, our eyes meeting for a brief, oddly quiet moment. She looked away quickly, and I stepped back, grinning a little to break the tension.

Back on the road, I could feel Daphne settling in behind me—less tense, more used to the rhythm and speed of the bike now. Her grip around my waist wasn’t as tight as before, and she didn’t flinch every time I leaned into a turn.

We rode for another ten minutes before pulling up to a small café tucked between two buildings on a quiet street. It wasn’t anything fancy, but the food was solid, and I figured she’d appreciate something lowkey.

I parked the bike and cut the engine.

“You good?” I asked, glancing back at her.

She slowly took off the helmet, pushing her hair out of her face. “Yeah,” she breathed. “That actually wasn’t as terrifying as I thought it’d be.”

I smirked. “Told you I’d get you here alive.”

The bell above the café door chimed softly as we stepped inside. The place had a warm, cozy vibe—dim lights, wood-paneled walls, soft jazz playing in the background. A few people sat scattered at tables, either working on laptops or sipping coffee with pastries.

Daphne looked around, her eyes taking everything in. I motioned toward a table by the window.

“Let’s sit there,” I said, leading the way.

She followed, her steps light but still carrying that quiet hesitation she always seemed to have in new places. I pulled out the chair for her without really thinking, and she blinked up at me in surprise before mumbling a soft, “Thanks.”

I watched her from across the table as she scanned the menu. She still seemed a little quiet, but calmer now. Settled. Maybe even a little more herself.

The waitress came by with a polite smile. “Are you both ready to order?”

We both said out orders and handed the menus back.

As she walked away, Daphne quietly shifted in her seat, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. I leaned my elbows on the table, watching her.

“You settling in okay?” I asked.

She nodded, not looking up right away. “Yeah. I think so.”

There was a small pause before she glanced up at me. “Everyone on your team was really nice.”

I smirked. “Told you they would be.”

She gave a tiny smile, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. “It’s just… new, that’s all. I haven’t done anything like this in a while.”

“You’re doing great already,” I said, and meant it. “You’ll fit in faster than you think.”

She gave a shy nod. “Thanks. I just… don’t wanna mess anything up.”

“You won’t,” I said, firm and certain. “You’re a London art school graduate—no way you’re messing this up.”

Daphne let out a breathy laugh, ducking her head a little. “That doesn’t mean I know everything.”

“Doesn’t have to,” I replied. “You’ve got good instincts. That’s half the work.”

She looked up at me, almost surprised by the compliment, then gave a small smile. “You really think so?”

I shrugged, but the corner of my mouth curved up. “Wouldn’t have offered you the job if I didn’t.”

Her eyes softened, the tension in her posture loosening just a little more. She didn’t say anything after that, just looked at me for a second before glancing out the window. But the quiet between us this time wasn’t awkward—it was kind of nice.

When the food came around, and we start eating, and I tried to not break the conversation.

When the food arrived, the smell alone was enough to make both of us forget about the nerves. We unwrapped our meals, and I watched her carefully pick at her sandwich before taking a small bite.

I didn’t want the quiet to stretch too long, so I kept the conversation going between bites.

“So, Daphne,” I said, nudging her attention back to me. “Tell me about London. What was like… your favorite part?”

She paused, chewing slowly as she thought. Her eyes drifted upward for a second like she was pulling the memory from somewhere far away. “Mmm… I think the parks,” she said softly. “There were these huge ones everywhere. Green and quiet. Even when the city was loud, the parks made it feel… calm.”

I nodded, intrigued. “Did you go there a lot?”

She gave a small smile, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Pretty much every week. Sometimes with my camera, sometimes just to walk. I liked watching people. Couples, families, random tourists trying to take artsy pictures and falling over pigeons…”

I laughed. “So basically, people-watching was your hobby.”

“Pretty much,” she said with a tiny shrug. “That and coffee shops. There was one just down the street from my flat. I practically lived there.”

I watched her for a moment, the softness in her voice, the way her eyes flickered with a quiet kind of longing.

“Seems like you miss it,” I said.

She exhaled, slow and honest. “Yeah… I do. But I couldn’t stay, even if I wanted to.”

I tilted my head slightly, curiosity tugging at my brow. “Why not?”

She glanced down at her drink, running her finger lightly around the rim of the cup.

“My program ended, and... London isn’t exactly cheap. Especially not for someone trying to figure out what’s next. Rent was insane, and I didn’t want to keep relying on Noah for help.”

I nodded slowly, understanding settling in. “So coming back felt like the better option.”

She gave a small nod. “Yeah. Familiar faces. Familiar streets. Even if it wasn’t what I really wanted.”

I leaned back in my chair, watching her quietly. I wasn’t oblivious to what her family had gone through. Noah and Daphne losing their parents that young—it was something that never really left you. I remember when it happened. Everyone around them looked shocked, broken even. Noah barely spoke for weeks, and Daphne... she was just a kid.

Noah’s family had been through a lot after the accident. It shook the entire neighborhood. It was a shock for sure.

My family—yeah, we were well off. Grew up in a different kind of chaos. But that didn’t mean I was blind to what real pain looked like. I knew grief when I saw it. I knew how it could shape people. Turn quiet girls into guarded ones.

When I lost my father a couple of years ago, it was different. Chris stepped up and took over the company, while Nick and I inherited more than enough estates to keep us set for life.

“Still,” I said after a beat, “I think it’s brave. Coming back here. Starting over.”

She nodded slowly.

I smirked, shifting my gaze back to Daphne.

“So, with all that ‘big girl money’ coming your way, what’s your first purchase going to be?” I teased.

She blinked, looking down for a moment, cheeks flushing a soft pink.

“Uh… probably… to pay off my student loans,” she said quietly, barely meeting my eyes.

I nodded, impressed despite myself. “Responsible. I like that.”

I grinned and leaned in a little. “Okay, but what about something just for you? A little treat?”

Daphne hesitated, biting her lip. “Maybe… a car,” she said softly, still a bit shy.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A car, huh? So what’s your dream car? Don’t hold back.”

She glanced away, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “It’s pretty unlikely… but I’ve always wanted a Porsche.”

I didn’t even need to ask — I could almost picture it: that sleek Porsche with a baby pink-and-white interior, soft and stylish just like her.

After a quiet moment, Daphne glanced up at me shyly, her voice soft and hesitant.

“So… um, how are you doing, Matt?”

I gave a small nod. “I’m alright. Just been busy lately—there’s some stuff going on with Chris right now, but we’re trying to fix it.”

Her brow furrowed, concern creasing her forehead. “What kind of problems? Isn’t he happy? I mean, he’s getting married...”

I hesitated for a moment, choosing my words carefully. “Yeah, he is. It’s just… complicated.” She didn’t press further, simply nodding. “Got it.” I shifted the topic, trying to lighten the mood. “Other than that, I’ll be heading to L.A. for a shoot soon — in about a week. And you’re coming with me.”

Her eyes went wide. “Wait… I’m coming?”

I gave her a smug grin. “You signed up for this, sweetheart. It’s part of the job.”

She looked at me, confused.

“You clearly didn’t read the paperwork too closely,” I teased. “There was a whole section — ‘agree to accompany Matthew Sturniolo on all business-related travel as his assigned photographer.’ Ring any bells?”

Daphne blinked, clearly trying to replay the documents in her head. “I mean… I skimmed. But I didn’t think you meant like—actual traveling.”

“Oh, it’s very real,” I said, leaning back in my chair, arms crossed with a smug smile. “Welcome to the company life, Miss London Graduate.”

She shook her head, half-laughing, half-panicking. “I’ve never even been to L.A.”

“Well, now you will. Pack light—actually, no, pack everything. You’ll probably overthink every outfit anyway,” I teased.

Her cheeks flushed. “I will not.”

“You already are,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re thinking about it right now.”

She tried to hide her smile, her eyes dropping to her food. “Okay… maybe.”

I smiled, pushing down the warmth creeping up my neck. There was just something about Daphne—soft-spoken, wide-eyed, and a little too easy to be around. It was... different.

“You know,” I said casually, leaning back in my chair, “for someone who said she was nervous about the job, you’re doing a pretty good job of surviving your first day.”

Her gaze lifted to mine, and she gave a small, shy smile. “That’s because you’ve been nice. Surprisingly.”

I smirked. “Surprisingly? So you expected me to be a tyrant?”

“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “Just... intimidating. You kind of have that face.”

I raised a brow. “That face?”

“You know,” she said, fiddling with her straw, “the I-don’t-smile-often kind of face.”

I laughed, genuinely amused. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She blushed a little and looked down again, a smile tugging at her lips. I watched her for a second longer than I probably should’ve, something about her just… pulling me in. I cleared my throat and looked away.

“You’re easy to talk to,” I said, not really thinking.

She blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Me?”

I nodded. “Yeah. It’s…nice.”

Her cheeks turned pink again, and she tucked her hair behind her ear, eyes dropping to her lap.

“Thanks,” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

The sky had shifted to deep navy by the time we stepped outside, the streetlights flickering on one by one. The city buzz had quieted, trading chaos for something softer—more calm. I pulled the helmet off the bike and handed it to her.

“Here,” I said, my voice low as I passed it to her. “Let’s get you home.”

Daphne took it with both hands, careful as always, and slipped it over her head—though not without a little hesitation. Her hair got caught on the strap again, and I watched her fumble for a second before stepping in to help.

“Hold still,” I murmured, brushing her hair gently out of the way to fasten the buckle under her chin. She looked up at me through the helmet, and even in the dim light, I caught the faintest blush warming her cheeks.

“Thanks,” she said softly.

I climbed onto the bike first, turning it on as the engine purred beneath us. She climbed up behind me a little more confidently this time—still cautious, but not as unsure.

The ride back was quiet. She didn’t say anything, and I didn’t mind. Her grip stayed steady, her cheek occasionally brushing against my back when we turned. It was peaceful—almost too peaceful for me, but with her, it didn’t feel empty. Just quiet in a good way.

By the time we pulled up in front of her apartment building, the streets were mostly deserted. I killed the engine and waited for her to hop off. She did, a little clumsily, pulling the helmet off and shaking out her hair.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said, eyes a little sleepy now, voice soft.

“Anytime,” I said with a shy grin. “How else would you get back home?”

She let out a quiet breath, the helmet still tucked awkwardly under her arm, and bit her lip like something else was on the tip of her tongue. Though she didn’t say it.

“I’ll see you in a week,” I added, shifting slightly on the bike. “I’ll text you the details—probably last minute, knowing me. I’m kind of slammed until the trip.”

She nodded, giving a small smile. “Alright. I’ll wait for it.”

The streetlight above her cast a warm glow on her face, softening the way her eyes lingered on me for a second longer than usual.

“Goodnight, Matt.” she said, giving me the extra helmet.

“Night, sweetheart”

READ ALL RELEASED CHAPTERS NOW!

[a/n: i'm so excited for this, I love brothers bsf tropes. like and reblog! mwah] –ceyana

Tags: @oopsiedaisydeer @ribbonlovergirl @mattsfrenchtoast @lm-a-mirrorball @cholejhunter @urlocallera @kingofeverythingmb @idkwhatimdoinghereeeeeee @malox12 @sturnslux3 @carrielovesmatt @vanillakissesxx @sagesturns @enviedparty101 @kiarasmaybank @mattscore @fmg05 @ed1tssturnn @kenah-sturniolo @tropicfessed @courta13 @meatballlover10 @ellssturn @idkwhatthisis2009

#ceyanabbiolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #fanfic #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #brothers best friend

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pressplay-if · 1 day ago

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Why do you like Fleetwood Mac? I looked them up after you said that you were inspired by them. Loved their music but the artists....not so much. Their personal lives are so messy and I feel like they were so toxic! The cheating and affairs! BUT all the information I have could very well be incorrect or half truths!

oh dear, messiness? I could never tolerate that, let alone write an IF about related topics...

When I say I love Fleetwood Mac, I don't necessarily mean I see them as moral icons, or even people I would aspire to be like. That aside, Nonnie, I see what you mean, and your information isn't exactly WRONG, but there's a lot more to it than black and white. Take Christine McVie's affair; John confessed to having anger/alcohol issues and, if I remember the interview where it came up correctly, said he understood (whatever that means). And the song You Make Loving Fun, which Christine wrote about the lighting tech she cheated with, is so heartfelt and she sings as though she's amazed by the feeling. And then the thought of John actually playing right behind her when she sang it on stage. I just think about it all the time.

That's not to say that cheating is okay; it's absolutely not, but I'm not going to judge someone whom I don't know when there's clearly so much going on around it. And it's not as though all of the band's issues came from affairs. Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham had such a tumultuous history. I love that he insisted she be allowed join the band even though Fleetwood Mac only wanted him at first, only for her to them become a national treasure. And I love that despite everything that happened between them, you can still see how much they mean or meant to each other, how they acknowledge their history. I love Christine and Stevie's friendship, and how in old interviews, they straight up tell the sexist pricks shrugging them off as "background singers" that the band wouldn't be what it is without them. They know they're integral, even as girl in a rock band in the seventies.

There's so much to it all. Yes, they were messy, and not good for each other. They knew that! Listen to The Chain. They just made so much incredible music together, and I think their messiness stoked that fire. Every song they write is a testament to them, no lyrics are without meaning. I love them as individuals, with Stevie's unique folkloric, poetic signature to all her songs, and Christine singing so longingly and romantically, and Lindsey's insane guitar skills and essential rock kind of vibe; and I love them together, as basically the Chain.

#pressplay if #fleetwood mac #author talks #music inspiration

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omniphilic · 3 hours ago

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WAIT MARK ACCIDENTALLY KNOCKING YOU UP???, (from the last bit of the other ask) I just got to know how that would play out because omg 😭😭😭

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀18+ content below / MDNI tw: pregnancy stuff, baby stuff, medical intervention (it's reader's choice), angst ig?? but also a little fluffy

You see, if you were the responsible, reasonable, rational individual you should have been, you wouldn’t have let this boy in your bed in the first damn place.

But you did. And at first, you had sense. As much as you can have granted, you are fucking around with your daughter’s boyfriend.

Rule number one: Condoms always. If he's not wrapping, he's not tapping.

Rule number two: He can't linger afterward for too long. He needs to be gone before Amber is even thinking about coming home, and if he's planning to spend time with her then he's not supposed to be thinking about you.

Rule number three: No kissing.

"What?" He said to you, the exasperation on him audacious. "What do you mean no kissing? That's like, the best part?" He's crawling atop you as if he's the kind of boy that breaks rules and you have to be firm, place your hand on his chest and give him the spray bottle.

"No Mark," you shake your head and the boy wilts. "It's too personal. I don't need you falling in love with me or some nonsense like that." It's already too late for that, but he doesn't correct you. "We're already," he gesticulates, finger-in-hole, "You know? That seems plenty personal to me already, so what's a little kiss?" He says with that lilt he does when he's trying to convince you, his finger tucked under your chin to lift. "C'mon," he goads, lips puckered as he leans into you. "Just humor me?" You're not laughing as you place a finger over his lips and push him back. "Aww... not even a little one?" You scoff.

"There are other lips you could be kissing right now." He shrugs in concession. "You right." And between your thighs he goes.

He always was great at wearing you down though, he got into your bed after all.

Mark Grayson breaks your rules because as it turns out he’s not a very good boy at all. He weakens your defenses—warming you up to the idea, he lies—undressing you, starting from the bottom and going up.

He hides orgasms behind paywalls, if you really want to cum as bad as you mewl, then you'll give him a kiss right? It's like a reward, he persuades, for all his hard work. If he’s making you feel sooo good, show him how good, as if your crossed eyes and his fucked up back don't speak for themselves. You want to rationalize it's just "whatever" when you two are tongue kissing on the bed; considering you've already fucked him, which now makes sense in a way it never had before. Your reservations turned to hoops and hurdles, mere obstacles in your race to completion. It doesn't help that Mark comes pre-equipped with justifications as well, ever eager to whittle your boundaries away with those soft brown puppy-dog eyes.

He starts being messy with his entrances and exits. He can start the day in Amber's arms but still somehow in your bed at night, holding you still as the post-orgasm exhaustion sets in, eyelids and limbs leadened, skin tacky with sweat and... other things.

So eventually, it makes sense that you stick your hand up when he pulls out the dreaded condom, waving it away.

"Just put it in, Mark."

And what kind of man would he be if he didn't oblige?

(Assuming you don't have your tubes tied.)

Arguably letting that boy into your bed was the dumbest decision you've ever made in your life. The second was letting him hit it raw. In most cases birth control would have all your bases covered. But this is not one such instance.

You don't know he's a Viltrumite. Which probably needn't be disclosed if you two maintained a more appropriate relationship with the other--but I digress.

You guys haven't seen each other since you've last had sex, and that was about... four weeks ago. Your birth control has been effective with other partners, so you didn't anticipate any issues. Couldn't have, in your stubborn mind, because it was easier to evade the guilt by not thinking about it; however, it is much harder to brush off when you feel that telltale rise of bile in your throat some early morning, a dizzying nausea gripping your stomach and pulling your heart down into it.

Clearblue, Pregnate and Nautilus all come out positive and by the end of it you're sitting on the toilet, wiping hysterical tears from the corners of your eyes as you're frantically flipping through contacts, trying to call Mark. You hesitate. Should you even? He's too young to be a father and he's still dating your daughter. Maybe it's better if he just doesn't know.

If You Tell Him, but you're not keeping it:

He's appalled, ecstatic and terrified all at once. He's fully prepared to commit to supporting you (in whatever ways he can) too, which is what concerned you the most. He doesn't have the time to spare to care for a kid, and you weren't exactly looking to give Amber a sibling at any point. So, you do the reasonable, actionable thing, and terminate the pregnancy.

Mark is devastated in a way he never expected to be. So are you, in a way. You wonder what could have been, almost, then dash the thought.

You're doing the smart, actionable thing. You tell yourself that whenever you feel your stomach turn, the hormones fogging up your reality, forcing tears to your eyes.

You probably stop seeing each other around that time. You realize sneaking around isn't worth the headache or heart attack. Mark is upset about it reflexively, but you drew your line in the sand, and he'd be one to respect that. If you don't tell him, you still break it off anyway.

You Get Pregnant and Keep It:

Maybe it's a bad case of baby fever that seduced you into your second bout with motherhood. Whatever the case may be, Amber is gonna have a baby sister soon! She's excited at first. Then grossed out. "...ewwwww, Mom..."

"Listen, you asked about my belly bump first. As far as I'm concerned, this TMI is all your fault."

Mark is just as frightened as he is aroused by the idea. He likes the way you look laid up and relaxed, how you're a little more helpless, crawling all over him for things. He thinks it's cute when you're needy.

You get really horny, too. It's really fun for you though, cause as bad of a boy that Mark Grayson is, he's at least a gentleman.

He'd visit more often, though his behavior/attitude towards the pregnancy changes depending on how he learns about it. Amber's attitude about little sibling changes depending on who the parent looks like.

What if you don't tell him, but the child looks like him completely? You had a hookup, and maybe it just sort of happened on accident. Or that's what you say, whether you're telling the truth or a lie is for you to know.

But you gave birth to a twin. From his cute brown eyes, to his nose, to the jet-black hair. They even have the same beauty marks. Amber keeps giving her odd looks in the crib. She seemed so familiar, but Amber could never quite place it.

But she's showing her off to whoever she can find, posts about it on her socials. Mark goes to see the baby in person as soon as he can and... he knows that's his kid.

It kind of makes him feel odd, like he's gone back in time and plopped himself in this crib. He feels like he should be panicking, sweating shaking, crying. But he just... holds her.

It's not going to be easy, but maybe not terrible? Of course, his relationship with Amber will end, your daughter is going up and it becomes an unignorable and uncanny resemblance.

Don't even mention when her powers start to come in.

She'd will put two and two together, eventually. Say goodbye to your daughter. Probably most of your friends?

But at least you have Mark, right? Whenever he's not saving the world, you guess.

But he really does love you <3 Though, I think it would be your mortality that saddens him. You're too soft, too sweet for his life. He'd just die if anyone got their hands on you.

Overprotective as shit as a partner, though. He's a sweet little golden retriever up until he sees someone eyeing you up and then he's just in go mode dude. Anybody who steps to him is getting thrown over the bar.

But,,, no Amber. Your daughter hates you. Forever. Would probably keep in contact with her sister, and eventually she's gonna know the truth of her birth. Who knows if she'll want to talk to you after?

But you made your bed, and Mark chose to lie in it.

#invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson fanfic #mark grayson smut #invincible smut #mark grayson #invincible #invincible fanfic #☆ sun writes!

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cheeseceli · 2 days ago

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If it's messy, it's love

Pairing: Han Jisung × gn!reader

Genre: angst, fic (1k words), unrequited love

Prompt: "Maybe if it's messy then you know it's really love"

Warnings: heartbreak, unrequited love, mentions of marriage, of parents (?) and of kids, Heeseung cameo

A/n: miss rose releases another hit | daily click

Han realised in the most painful, cruelest way that it could never be him.

"What?"

"I'm getting married!" was all you replied to his shocked state, with that beautiful smile of yours that hurt him so badly now, hoping it would enlighten your best friend's mind a little bit.

But Han had heard it the first time. He heard it loud and clear.

He just couldn't believe. He didn't want to.

"Heeseung proposed?" he could only hope his voice wasn't giving in, showing you his most vulnerable side. He was also glad he was sat in his bed. This way his knees wouldn't falter until they brought him to the ground.

"He just did this morning" you sat next to him, dreamy voice still speaking, not noticing the inner debate in Han's heart "I can't believe it either. You're the first one to know the news, actually."

He has no ideia if that was supposed to be a good thing. He supposes it was, as that meant you really considered him a huge part of your life.

Maybe just not big enough.

He knew it from the start that you really were in love with your boyfriend - now fiancé - and that he had no place in that romantic aspect of your life. But he still was foolish enough to have hope.

Hope one day you'd wake up and think "wow, maybe I am in love with my best friend". Just like he was in love with you.

It was stupid. Jisung knew it better than anyone. He knew it was immature. That's why he never did anything regarding this fantasies. He would never even dare to do anything that could ruin your relationship with Heeseung. You would be hurt by only the thought of it, and that guy was sadly even pretty decent, a good match for you! So Jisung could do nothing but to watch it from the sidelines.

And to have hope.

It's true when they say this feeling is the last one to die.

It saddened him to be so attached to that idea. It wasn't going to work. You were not going to have a crazy epiphany about how infatuated you are with him. You weren't gonna reserve a place in your heart for him, not the part he wanted you to. He hated himself for even feeling this way.

It was childish. It was hurtful. It was messed up.

But at this point, he thought that if it was messy, then at least it really was love.

"Are you sure? I mean, isn't it a bit early?"

"I don't think so. We've been dating for three years already. It's just enough time, right?"

You knew Han for more than a decade though. Couldn't you consider it as well?

"Is your family alright with that?"

"Well, they don't know it yet" right, after all, he was the first one to discover the news "but my parents really like him. They hinted about marriage a few times."

Your parents liked him as well. Why couldn't they hint about him instead?

"Well, weren't you guys fighting just last week?"

It seems you and Han were about to fight now.

"What's up with the interrogation?" you finally looked at him, the dreamy state you were in fading bit by bit "I thought you would be happy as well."

"I am happy for you!" he was not "I just want to make sure you're making the right choice," it wasn't the right choice "it's a lot of responsibility after all. We're talking about the rest of your life."

You were quiet for a while. There was no way of knowing what you were really thinking at that moment. And that was killing Jisung.

"Are you positive?" Jisung continued, his voice weaker than ever "Are you really sure you want to marry him? Are you ready for that?"

"I am." The delicate expression came back to light up your face, your voice becoming softer. It was a sign of love. Han recognised it well, that was how he talked about you "For all of your questions. I want to do that more than anything, and I want to do it with Hee."

Han could hear his heart breaking in synchrony with your words. That had to be the worst experience of his life.

You were going to get married to the love of your life. He was probably going to be your best man, the "uncle" of your kids and the one friend you knew you could always count in.

And that was it.

At the same time you were promising him a place in your life, you were also saying goodbye to him. Goodbye to everything he had ever hoped for. Goodbye to everything he used to do that won't be his duty to fulfil anymore. Goodbye to the two of you that existed until now, and goodbye to the version of you that he never got to see.

After all, it really, really, could never be him.

"He better take care of you." Han finally said, eyes not meeting yours, heart beating so slowly a doctor would say he was dead.

You smiled. Being your friend for years on end made him realise a few things about you. He knew how you smiled when you were faking it, and he knew it when it was real. And God, that one smile was one of the most genuine smiles he had seen in your lips for a long while.

But it probably wasn't as real as the one you gave Heeseung earlier, when he got down in one knee for you.

"Thank you" you whispered as you hugged him. He could feel the happiness laced in your voice "He will take good care of me, I promise."

And all that was left to Han was to believe your words would come true.

If he was supposed to live with a broken heart from now on, that should at least mean you were going to live with a happy and healed one forever.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: Moving On

Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the members actually are. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji @jinnie-ret @sheraayasherrecs @rockstarkkami @urlocalmultigroupfan @aeinzzzketchup @queenofdumbfuckery @sarita-sunday @lezleeferguson-120

Dividers by @cafekitsune | images 1, 2 and 3

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woompfy · 2 days ago

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What if some characters in the movies would be added in the animated show of dwk and what role would they play in?

Well guess what, I drew them if they were in the series and gave them a lil feel of how they'd play into the show. I mostly based their designs off their book designs btw. Also, I only remember parts of the movies and am not a big expert on the lore, nor am I a fan of the movies in general. ( I won't make myself go watch them again without taking a shot each time I cringe) The characters are simply my interpretation if they were in the show.

First and importantly of all Nerv...

I think he would add so much personality to the already existing dwk team with his young energetic spirit and creative imagination. He'd give the team the insperation needed and would cheer them on to achieve their full potential. When the team is doubtful he would be the last one to give up for he just has so much passion for his friend's success. Altough he's determined he would be the loud annoying kid that doesn't know the boundaries of imagination and reality(just like in the movies). He wants to be treated seriously but because of his young age and naivety he's treated like their team's little side kick. That might also rile up some conflics that could be explored if he was in a 3rd season of the show.

Next up is Klette, my absolute favorite...

Our nonbinary icon, indeed. I don't remember what their role is in the movies and how they join the bunch so I'd be open to be informed of their original role. But I do remember their fun banter with Nerv, which I absolutely loved and would keep in the show, with less underage romantic jokes of course. Klette would definitely add to the wild theme of the show, with their messy hair and sassy/playful attitude making them a perfect wilder kerl. I'd like to imagine that the bunch didn't accept her as a memeber at first, just like when they rejected Vanessa, but not because of Klette's gender but because they were too weird for the bunch, even comparing them as a rat. They don't take the rat part personal but they do question the bunch's view on excluding people not fit for their norms even though they themselves are crossing the norms of societly, literally being a soccer cult. That could be an interesting episode of it's own exploring the bunch's view on normality and treating minorities in their own group. (I might as well not know what I am talking about but I still hope you get my point) They are also more likely to get into trouble than anyone else in the group.

Now for Joschka...

Add another diverse character to the mix and it feels a lot more welcoming imo. Although it is said in the movies/books that Joschka is Juli's brother I personally don't see how that would make sense and wouldn't add to anything new. We already have a brother duo and it would be just copying another blueprint of a dynamic. So I made him and orphane, 'cuz these kids shall not be permitted to have parents. That would also make him a friend of Jojo's which he met at the orphanage. He'd join the bunch along with Nerv, that he's best friend's with, and would support Nerv with his passion for the soccer bunch. That would make him and Nerv the youngest memebers.

With him being a past basketball player I can imagine the bunch being a little rejecting if they found out, cuz we all know how much basketball and soccer players hate each other. A crossover of an rival team of the opposite sport would also be interesting to explore. An episode like that could also focus Joshkas character and his passion for both sports, torn between which one to sacrafice. I'd also like to add his couriosity of who his parents are and where his heritage is actually from. That could be an interesting episode that explores his struggle with cultrual identity and perhaps dealing with racism, which originally leads to him questioning who his parents are, who he truly is and if he can accept the truth.

I still got Juli and Maxi on my plate which I'll probably further discuss in a Part 2

#die wilden kerle animated series #dwk animated series #dwk #die wilden kerle #fanart #myart #die wilden kerle filme

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millidew · 1 year ago

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maizuru and milsiril are my favorite fucked up dungeon meshi mother figures

#dungeon meshi #maizuru #milsiril #my post #both were involved in some kind of highly skilled group (espionage/ninja work and the canaries)#maizuru and milsiril both have some aspect that makes their relationship with their sort of son innately complicated.\#maizuru has been having and affair and milsiril has biases towards short lived races #both dote heavily on them but milsiril does it more clearly in an overprotective way #their sons have complicated emotions towards them. and they’re right for that #lets see… toshiro always eats the food maizuru makes due to the love in its preparation. he doesn’t seem to have a relationship with his mok #*mom #so he was very close to maizuru #but after finding out she and his dad was having an affair he closed off from her. maizuru still heavily dotes on him however #maizuru also invented a spell to scare his child self into returning to her #and trained ninja techniques into him (I believe?)#and milsiril (though she did train him) didn’t like the idea of kabru going into dangerous dungeons #she ended up coddling him in that regard. he doesn’t know how to do household chores (but I doubt toshiro knows either LMAO)#(he probably has servants or maizuru who do it for him)#but in fighting specifically:#milsiril also trained kabru in sword fighting but unlike maizuru’s training it’s not very useful in the dungeon #now back to food:#unlike maizuru’s food the elven foods milsiril gave kabru weren’t as well received #that has to do with the different culture he’s from though #he thinks of his birth mom’s food more and had a stringer relationship with her #*stronger #despite some issues kabru says that he’s grateful for her as his foster mom (iirc)#I imagine toshiro’s probably the same way even if he wouldn’t admit it (BECAUSE MAIZURU IS FUCKING HIS DAD???)#toshiro doesn’t feel close to any of his family so his biggest connections as a kid probably would’ve been maizuru and hien.#kabru has milsiril and rin and all anyone could ever want but would never want to return to #anyways. end of essay. tldr: milfs are messy

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 1 year ago

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5 second Gon doodle before I go to sleep. Good night! 😴

#think I’m starting to get the hang of drawing him… my little guy :)#storyrambles #my art #gon freecss #hxh #the real test to see if I can draw him is to see if he’s still recognizable when he’s not smiling #and well. I think even though this is messy it still feels like him :)#also I love his little sleeveless turtleneck. I want one.

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thesingingrevolution · 1 year ago

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reading my diary entry from 8th grade when the boy i liked so much gave me a kiss on the cheek..

#i went crazy #i was like. 100% sure he was the love of my life #in the entry im like #i was out cold on the floor #and i literally said if we ever actually kissed i would have ended up in the hospital #i know that absolutely yes that would have happened #i would actually have passed out at the very leasr #least #i liked him so so so so so so so so so much #i was literally like #it’s not 20:49pm and i can still feel it on my cheek 5 hours later #IT IS**** 20:49 NOOO #crazy #it wasn’t a romantic kiss btw. we were saying goodbye #for a long school break #i never got to properly say goodbye to him. he never really spoke to me after he broke my heart #and after i wrote a letter to him telling him i appreciated our friendship and i wished him luck back home he embarrassed me #i still remember the pain it was so bad #we have spoken since though. and even seen each other in person 5 years later. but it’s ancient history now #i dont think he knew the real depth of my feelings #anyway about the kiss moment #but it caught me off guard and i literally explained the whole cultural aspect of hugs and kisses it was shsgsgsgahahaj #oh well #such a messy end to a nice friendship #i will never forget how much i cared for you *******#this is so sick #i cant stop crying #sorrt its so incoherent

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freakalot · 2 months ago

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“smile for the camera, baby!” ☆

as if you could.

caleb is all too cocky about your inability to do anything but lay beneath him all slack-jawed and shaky as he drills his cock into you despite your overstimulation.

you’re so fucked out that you can’t even muster up the energy or mindpower to regret gifting your boyfriend and polaroid camera for his birthday. you had brought it with romance in mind—he’s away so often for such long periods at a time that you thought a few sweet photos he can carry in the lining of his uniform jacket would be a nice idea.

but caleb, the amalgamation of all things desperate and horny, couldn’t wait five minutes after unwrapping his gift to start unwrapping you as well. each layer of clothing discarded he’d reward with a photo of your revealed skin until he was trying to finesse a way to hold the camera with one hand as the other pumped his fingers mercilessly into your cunt.

now, hours later, you’re laying on a bed of polaroids, each more lewd than the last. one digs into your skin while another is jostled off the bed with the hard thrusts of your boyfriends leaky cock into your (regrettably) still-needy pussy. the effect this man has on you is unreasonable—you’ve cum so many times that you can’t form a coherent thought and still you think you’d cry if he pulled out and denied you the stretch of his cock.

flash. another shot is taken, this one of your glossy eyes and drool-soaked lips.

“you’re so messy,” he teases like his dick isn’t shining with the sweet mixture of your releases—like he’s not spat on your cunt just to rub load after load of cum around your clit in sick circles that make you choke on your breath. what an asshole he is.

“gonna make you cum again, pips,” he grins, dark hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. “i want to see if i can catch you squirting in a pic, hm?”

you part your kiss-swollen lips to protest. “cant—“ is all you can manage though, before your boyfriend, your best friend, is squeezing your cheeks between his long fingers and frowning down at you.

“don’t doubt yourself, pretty, you can do anything if you set your mind to it!”

pep talk of the century. you’d laugh at him if you had half your mind left, but all you have the space to think about is how he’s never gotten quite this deep inside of you before. you don’t even process the way he’s driven your hips up with his thighs to feel even more of you around him.

so perfect, he calls you. and even though he’s fucking you erratically, once he feels the telltale signs of your impending orgasm, he’s all smiles. sweet glossy eyes brimming with needy tears, flushed cheeks, soft brows… the man with his cock so deep inside of you that you’re seeing stars, leans down to press a kiss to your forehead as you orgasm.

it’s too much. you choke on it, you feel it in every bone in your body and still you crave more of him. you squirt around his cock with a moan made for porn and caleb feels like a hormonal virgin all over again.

click. another pic; one that prints to be fanned out immediately—one hand flapping the print through the air as the other one rubs slow circles on your tummy as he tries to feel himself pushing inside of you.

once it finally develops enough to gift caleb with the sight of your spread legs and the mess of lust between them, you swear he grows even harder inside of you.

“yeah,” your idiot of a man grins. “this one’s going on my wall.”

#caleb smut #love and deepspace smut #caleb x reader #caleb x you #lads smut #lnds smut #l&ds caleb #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #l&ds smut

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madamechrissy · 5 months ago

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I'll look After You

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x fem reader (reader is a mom)

Summary: You longed to hear from Satoru, After an epic night hooking up in a club bathroom, sure you'd been strangers, but he has your number, he made you feel so special... but... he never contacts you again. Ten months later, you have a beautiful baby named Reign, with those exact blue eyes. You never saw him again, couldn't even find him, so now, you are living your life as a single mom. Messy bun, dark circles, exhausted, you run into Satoru one day, and he sees her, his baby girl, and sees you struggling, he knows then, you're what's been missing in his life.

CW: MDNI- Sweet and emotional story, SO MUCH fluff here, Satoru is a freaking doll, misunderstanding led to him not knowing (nothing is kept from anyone on purpose) Fluffy long oneshot, watch Satoru fall in love with reader and his lil girl. Gojo being a dad and being cute! Explicit smut at the end- warnings- breed kink (it's me???) oral (f receiving) dirty talk, possessive Satoru (When isn't he?) Also some flashbacks to the original bathroom hookup (fingering, dirty talk etc) Sexual tension, 10.6k WC <3

Here is the full oneshot! Comments and reblogs SO appreciated if you enjoy <3

You often wondered about him, Satoru was his name.

As you look down at your baby girl, with her brilliant blue eyes while she’s cooing happily, giving you a gummy little grin, you wonder what he’d think if he knew about her. The random guy at the bar you gave your number to after hooking up in a bathroom, the guy who never called, the guy with no social media of which to speak. The guy you never, ever saw again.

Your baby’s father, the best thing that ever happened to you, surely, but also it was very difficult, being a single mom, you’d have to go back to work soon which you were dreading, spending sleepless nights up feeding, changing her. It had been a rough pregnancy, and a shocking one at that, people had questioned you over and over, some mentioned not having her.

But something in you knew you could do this, you could have this baby, you’re broke as fuck but she has all she needs, and she makes you so happy, but those eyes are unmistakable. No one has eyes like that, except her and her… well was he her dad? You wonder if he’d run ten million miles from you if he knew, or would he have been okay with it?

It’s odd that just a night of fun, alcohol and being on antibiotics created this amazing little girl, but you can’t be upset, not when she brightens your world. But you still ache at times, for her to have a dad, you hope you’re enough. You wonder about him though, the bright energetic man, the one that had made you feel more in one evening than anyone ever.

The last man you’d been with.

Yes, it’s been that long, Reign was two months old, so you’re damn near a year, you say it’s because you’re so busy, but something deep in you knows that you felt something for him, deeper than the obvious physical. Something about how he looked at you, at how he laughed, at how he made you feel so special.

You assume it must have been some act, clearly, here you are, alone after all. You both only knew each other’s first names, it’s true, but he had that number. Maybe it wasn’t all you thought it was? Maybe he just was that sort of guy, the one that made women think they’re his everything with one of his kisses, maybe you were just too drunk, and he was too pretty.

You blink a bit, shaking the haze thoughts of him as you yawn a bit, exhausted from Reign keeping you up all night, her tummy had been hurting. You’re sleepily putting things in the cart, baby items, groceries, the essentials, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror above the produce, wincing then. You have a messy bun and are in pajamas, god help you if you ever wanted to meet a guy.

‘Oh hi, I have a baby with a random blue eyed dude from a bar, I’m broke as fuck, and I wear pajamas to the store. Wanna date?’

Yeah. That would go over well.

“It’s… it’s… you!?” You sleepily look up then, so exhausted you barely register the six foot three man for a moment, then suddenly it all hits.

He stares at you, those blue eyes, the eyes your baby has, wide now, his pouty pink lips dropped open. He’s just as gorgeous as you remember him, like it’s some dream, you feel weak then, chest rising and falling as your breaths come too quickly. He steps closer to you then, he hasn’t seen her yet, nestled in her little car seat on the cart, you’re panicking.

“Do you even remember me? Oh my god, that night my phone broke, and I had just got it, they couldn’t transfer the numbers! And I tried to look you up? But I couldn’t find you… and I never saw you… and then- fuck I’m rambling.” He laughs nervously, swiping his hand through his snowy locks. “Forgive me, please… what I mean to say is… Hi?”

“Hi…” Your baby whines then, and Satoru pauses, blinking and you move to the side then, he steps closer when Reign opens her eyes, grinning at him.

Satoru’s heart pounds in his chest, his entire world tilts on its axis, he was already so thrown off by seeing you again, the girl he hasn’t been able to stop thinking of, but now… he looks at you in shock, you look exhausted, but so beautiful, your eyes tear up then, he watches your shoulders slump, then he looks back at the baby, realization sinking in.

“She’s… is she… there’s no way…”

“She’s yours, I only hooked up with you for the past… year.” You manage to say softly, right in the middle of the fruit aisle, Satoru was finding out you have his baby.

“You did this alone?” He says then, blinking back emotions for a girl he barely knew, but who now has a part of him, a part he wants to know so badly suddenly, shocking him.

“I had no clue who you were, how to tell you, even if so, it’s not your responsibility okay? I take care of her just fine, I make it work.” Satoru’s heart breaks then, seeing how tired you are, seeing the endless baby items and cheap toilet paper, a cheap bottle of wine, is that all you get yourself?

You did this alone, you have his baby alone, altering your life while he’s living his just the same, partying with his best friends, working and living a luxurious life. Satoru was rich, and it’s clear his baby and his baby’s mother are struggling, and he’s here doing what? Could he have tried harder to find you!? Could he…

“We’re okay, you don’t have to worry. I’d never come for you for anything, I am happy being her mommy.” You say with a tired smile, reaching to touch her little chubby cheek, and Satoru has never seen anything so beautiful, the two of you.

He’s felt so empty for this year, is this what he was missing?

“Can I… please… Can I know her?” He asks, gulping now, and you blink in shock, nodding quickly.

“I would love that.” You can’t stop your tears then, sniffling and shaking your head. “Please, let’s talk out of a produce aisle?” You whisper, he nods quickly, unable to take his eyes off you, off his baby.

After paying for your groceries, which you protest to, he’s out by your car now, a little minivan that makes him smile, picturing you as some pretty soccer mom already. You take her out of the car seat then, holding her carefully, smiling up nervously at Satoru. His chest swells at seeing you hold her, some instinct takes over, he instantly knows then.

He needs to take care of you both.

“I thought you’d freak out if you knew, be upset or want nothing to do with…”

“God no, no. I mean I don’t know what to think, but… she’s beautiful. Like her mom.” His words make you flush.

“I’m a wreck, Satoru, look at me.”

“You just need some help, doing it all alone?”

“You don’t have to, okay? I can do it.”

He brushes a tendril back off your temple, sighing as he looks at you, at those dark circles that just make you more beautiful, but show the fragility you’re keeping under wraps as best as you can. “I want to help, this is on me too.”

“It’s not, I was on the pill but… antibiotics.” You grumble, holding the baby to your chest now, she is sucking on her little binkie, bright pink. “It’s all on me, I’d love you to be in her life, but don’t feel obligated to pay for anything.”

“You’re stubborn, will she be too?” He narrows his eyes, and you giggle then, the first time in a long time you’ve heard that sound.

“She’s already stubborn, she gave me a hard time, wouldn’t come out.” She wriggles then, and you step a little closer to Satoru. “Wanna hold her?”

“Can you… tell me how to?” He asks, and you smile at him, for a tall, buff man he’s so sweet and precious, nervous even.

“Yes, hold your arms like this.” He does as you ask, holding his arms out, as you gently place Reign in his arms. “Hold her head just so. There you go, hey Reign, this is your dad.”

“Reign?” He asks, in shock as he looks into her eyes, his eyes, but she has your nose, your hair. His lips. She’s… “Perfect.”

“Isn’t she? Is it okay if I call you her dad?”

“It’s… perfect.” He says again, smiling at you, tears making his snowy lashes spike just so, you feel so complete then somehow. You can’t explain it, seeing this melts you, and Reign is so happy she's cooing, sucking on her binky and staring at him, you watch him melt right with you. “HI there, dumpling.”

“Dumpling? She's got a nickname huh.” He grins so big, nodding.

“I moved out of the city for the past year but I just came back to town. How far are you?”

“Oh like ten minutes. Would you… like to come over tomorrow? I'd say today but my place is a wreck.”

“I'd love to. Can I get her something please?”

“You don't have to… but she can always use binkies she throws these things. Ugh, see?” Reign spits out her binky and Satoru snorts as you catch it. She then touches his cheek, and he chokes up.

“I… oh my god. I love her?” He whispers in wonder, and you exhale, blinking tears that refuse to stop falling. “Is that crazy?”

“No. I loved her when I first saw her too. Fuck I'm a wreck “

“Hey…” He steps closer, handing you her carefully and then placing his big hands on your shoulders. “I am here now for both of you, however you'll let me be. Shh.” He brushes your back, resting his head on yours as you hold her close.

“I never thought I'd see you, tell you. I'm overwhelmed. I'm sorry.”

“Yeah me too.”

Of course he is, fuck. He just found out he's a dad, and he's honestly taking it better than anyone could. He brushes your tears away, and your pulse quickens, you clear your throat then. “We don't even know each other, it's insane huh?”

“Absolutely insane. But… I can't wait to spend time with her.” He says softly, you smile up at him, trying not to read so much into it, so happy he wants to be in her life but you have to remember that doesn't mean with you.

“Come over tomorrow I'll cook you lunch? Please don't break your phone again.” He laughs then, nodding as you two exchange numbers.

“Last name is Gojo. I hope one day hers can be?” And yours, he thinks, but he knows it's crazy to say, as he watches you smile so pretty through your tears.

“Maybe we can do that someday. Well, Reign, say bye to dad.” Satoru kisses her little forehead, leaning up then, thinking of kissing you. You both stand there a moment before he opens your door, and you set Reign back in her little pink car seat. You smile up at him again. “I am sorry I'm in pajamas by the way, ugh.”

“They're cute, little snowmen.” You snort, rolling your eyes as you slide in your car, hoping you will see him tomorrow with everything. “See you both soon.”

You drive away, and Satoru calls his driver and assistant then. “Can you order me everything a baby girl needs? And I need it by tomorrow.”

******

There’s a knock on your door, you peek in the mirror one more time, you took a bath last night, your hair is shimmering and clean for once, you have just a little concealer on for those dark circles, a little lip gloss. You’re wearing clothes and not sweats or pajamas, a little top with a cardigan and jeans, nothing fancy but you look human again.

You can’t believe that Satoru will come, until you open that door and see him, standing next to a tired looking dark haired man holding an insane amount of glittery pink bags. Satoru’s grinning at you, wearing Gucci shades and a dress shirt probably worth more than your rent, only one little bag in his hand swinging side to side as he greets you.

“Satoru, you… what is all this?” You ask curiously, and he shrugs a broad shoulder, handing you the little bag.

“All that is for Regin, this is for you though.”

“What!? It’s too many things!”

“Miss, may I?”

You realize he’s just standing there struggling, and come to then. “Oh, yes I’m so sorry! Put them on the table?”

Satoru and Kiyotaka walk in then, you have a little place, it’s about the size of Satoru’s living room altogether, but it’s comfy and clean, lived in and every bit of it has something of you. He sees pictures of you pregnant on your little silver fridge, pictures of Reign all over, along with Christmas cards all placed with magnets. He sees you’ve baked cookies, too, the scent making him starve.

Almost as much as your scent, so sweet and intoxicating, as he stands next to you, gesturing to the bags. “I wanted to get her something, remember?”

“This is a whole store though!” Kiyotaka leaves now, and you’re delving into the bags, gasping as you pull out the softest, fuzziest pink blanket. “Oh my god…”

“I just had them buy everything for a girl? Is pink good?”

You giggle then, smiling as you pull out a pretty pink dress. “She doesn’t know colors yet, Satoru.”

Of course she doesn’t.

Satoru truly doesn’t know shit about kids, he called and told his mom, asking for advice, and almost gave her a heart attack he thinks. “Of course not, I… where is she? Is she napping?”

“She is, but don’t worry she usually wakes up soon. Oh these are so cute, how expensive are these!? She’s gonna wear them for like a week!” You ask then, pulling out a little baby pair of fancy shoes, then two more. “She can’t even walk yet… ah, but these are so cute though.” You’re clearly conflicted, he chuckles a bit, then you stand up. “Oh my god, I’m a shitty host!”

“You’re cute.” His words, all husky with that deep voice of his, make you flush now, making you even cuter to him. “You look pretty today.”

“Oh thank you, I didn’t want you to think I’m constantly a monster.” He snorts, rolling his eyes.

“You’re cute either way. This was you pregnant?” He asks, as you lead him to the kitchen.

“Yes, I was a whale, oh god.” He touches the photo then, a longing surging through him, he missed this, he missed you like this. He feels an ache washing through him, looking at your glowing face and round tummy.

“No, you were beautiful.” Your breath catches, eyes shooting to his as he looks at you now, feeling something pulling you towards him, it’s like he takes the air out of your lungs just standing here.

“You’re very sweet, Satoru… thank you.” You manage to breathe out the words, when he looks down at your body now, heating it up with his gaze.

“Did you like being pregnant?”

The words throw images in your mind, of him over you, putting more babies in you, fucking insane ones that you shove down quickly. He was clearly caring, and wanting to be involved, you needed to keep your thoughts to that and only that, despite the way your stomach is fluttering at his proximity.

“I did love being pregnant, feeling her move and kick, singing to my tummy and feeling her calm down. But towards the end it was really rough, because she decided she wasn’t coming out.” You say with a little laugh, Satoru can see in how you speak how much you adore her. “Would you like to see more pictures later?”

“I’d love to. You didn’t open what I got you.”

“You shouldn’t get me anything. Oh, do you want some cookies?”

“Yes please.” He starts munching down on them, moaning. “You baked these?”

“I bake when I’m nervous? It gets insane how much I bake.” He smiles then, you’re tucking your shimmering hair behind your ear, grabbing him a glass of milk before you go grab the little bag.

“Open it, now.” He sips his milk as you sit on the barstool by the counter, fingers gently pulling apart tissue paper, until you open a little box and see a gift card.

“To a spa!? I haven’t ever been to a spa? What I can’t!”

“You will. When you’re comfortable I could watch her, so you could get some time to yourself.” You sniffle then, the kindness of him after all the overwhelming months you’ve had is too much, you shake your head.

“I can’t, it’s all too much, you shouldn’t feel like you have to do this!” He walks to you then, brushing a tear from your cheek, exhaling as he leans down so close.

“Sweetheart, I’m fucking rich, okay?”

“I assumed… wealthy with your clothes…”

“No, filthy fucking rich. Let me spend it on my baby and get her mom just a little thing please? How can you take care of her without any care for you?”

“I just do it, Satoru. I just do it.” He brushes more of your tears now, his lips far too close, you still don’t know him truly but the gesture is melting every defense you may have had up.

“Just go relax one day, not now, when you’re more comfortable.” Reign starts crying then, making Satoru back off just as you’d leaned your chin up, and you two had been so close. You back away too, nervously standing.

“I’ll go get her for you.” You say with a big smile, eyes still watery, and then you bring her out, Satoru’s heart swells even more than it did seeing you, he eagerly picks her up this time, versus being so nervous as before. “Dad spoiled you already.”

“Not even close to spoiled yet.” He murmurs, snuggling her to him.

“Have a seat, please.” He sits on the couch with her, you take one of the many little blankets, gently laying it over her and then sitting on the couch with him, as he stares at her in wonder.

“She barely cries?”

“That’s around you, it seems. She likes you already.” Your words fill him with far too much happiness, a happiness he’s never known, but also such a longing.

“I wish I could have been there.” He whispers, brokenly, the handsome white haired man holding your little girl, and suddenly you can picture it, maybe his big bright smile during what was a difficult labor.

“You’re here now.” You assure him, a hand gentle on his shoulder, the caress delicate before you think better of it, pulling your hand back. “I thought about you a lot, I mean… I tried to find you.”

“I wish you had.”

“Really?” He nods then, emotional. “Satoru Gojo, you surprised me, I thought for sure you’d turn and run.”

“Nah, why? Look at her.” She’s blinking her long lashes, grinning at him then. “So what do I like… do with her? Besides holding her?”

You laugh softly then, it’s so easy to have him around, it feels so natural that it’s weird. “Well you can feed her a bottle I pumped, but I breast feed mostly.”

He gulps now, looking at your top, where your nipples were pressing against the thin fabric. “Oh?”

“Yeah, depending on her mood, sometimes she is vicious. I’ll show you.” You gently take your top up, feeling his gaze when you pull off your nursing bra.

“That thing is easy access.” He murmurs, you giggle a bit, nervous for him to see you when you let it drop, revealing one of your pretty breasts to him, leaving him dazed before he snaps out of it, handing you Reign.

It’s very intimate, sitting with him while you feed her, she’s sucking hard, so hard you wince then, her little long nails digging into your breast as Satoru smirks. “You’re gonna laugh at this pain?”

“She’s just like her dad, look at her go. A pro.” You snort, rolling your eyes and shaking your head as Reign aggressively punches your breasts for more milk.

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t think you did that.” You murmur thoughtfully, pushing back flashes of the night while she suckles.

“That’s a tragedy.” You look down shyly, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, while you feed his daughter, his daughter, it’s still not comprehending, it’s still taking him a lot to conceive it’s real. “Look at her face, oh my god!”

Your heart warms as he leans over, and Reign has stopped drinking, a goofy smile on her face. “She’s milk drunk.”

“What now? She looks high as fuck.” You hold in your laughter so you don’t wake her now, her eyes are shut and she’s still sucking on nothing.

“She does look stoned, it always cracks me up. Do you wanna put her to bed? I’ll show you where she sleeps.”

He nods and takes her again, watching your nipple with just a droplet of milk on it, he swipes it away before he can think better, making you shoot your eyes to him, lips parted. You hastily put the bra back up as a blush pinkens Satoru’s cheeks, slipping down your top, his touch on your sensitive nipples almost ended you just now. The desire for him in every way is almost insane.

You show him to the only room in your little place, it’s got a crib and a bassinet, and a tiny little bed that he assumes you must sleep in. You start wrapping her up in the new pink blanket then, swaddling her so tight, he watches in wonder at it, as you bundle her up.

“She’ll like a little burrito.” You snort in laughter, trying to keep quiet and covering your mouth then, looking up at Satoru in amusement.

“She kind of is? Babies like to be swaddled, they feel comfy.”

“You know so much… Have you had any experience before?” You both watch as she settles now.

“No, I learned all this from lots of books and bugging the shit out of my mother. Though she even thought I was crazy to have her. But something…” You trail off then, shaking your head. “Sorry.”

“No, please go on. Something?”

“Something told me I was meant to have her, it sounds crazy. But… I knew I could do it, even if it’s a lot.”

Satoru’s hand comes to rest on the small of your back, as you turn your head to look back up at him, seeing the emotions written all over his perfect face. “You’re doing great.”

You break down then at that, sobbing against his chest as he holds you, soothing rubs on your back. “I needed that, shit I’m sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay.” You stay like that for a moment, letting him hold you against his chest, your face buried against his shirt, tears spilling freely while you take several breaths. “You’re a great mom, I can already see.”

“Shit…” You pull yourself together, taking several breaths and leaning back then, Satoru’s cupping your face and it takes everything not to kiss him, this man who you still barely know. “I really appreciate that. It’s been hard so far, but I love her so much, it's impossible how deeply.”

“I can feel it already. You, missy, need that break.”

“I couldn’t…”

“I want to be involved, I want to care for her, and that means her mom too. Yeah?” You shake your head, earning his little glare. “Stubborn little brat.”

“Excuse me!?” You glare right back, and he grins.

“You are one!”

“Me a brat?” Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms.

“Mmhmm.” Satoru tilts your chin up, your head falls back then, and he imagines entwining his fingers in it, imagining kissing you just like that night. He leans even closer and you pull back, clearing your throat.

“We should step out so we don’t wake her.” You murmur, when you’re back in the living room you’re carefully folding all the clothes he’s bought. “Oh, I promised lunch! You up for stir fry?”

“I’m up for anything you wanna make, after eating those cookies.” You set to work, and soon the two of you are eating lunch together, Satoru moans as he devours the food. “My god you’re a good cook.”

“Thank you, I love to cook.” You nibble on your rice thoughtfully. “Ugh, I’m gonna hate leaving her to work.”

Satoru scowls now. “Huh?”

“Maternity leave is over in two weeks. I’m just going to work part time though, so I’ll still see her plenty. Maybe I’ll bring her to work?”

“Where do you work?”

“A library, I’m very exciting.” Satoru grins now.

“You look like a little librarian.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Goodie goodie, despite the bathroom…” You both quiet then, as his mind whirls, and yours spins, remembering.

“S-Satoru!” You’d cried out as his fingers had pumped in and out of your tight little entrance, soaking his fingers as he kissed down your neck, you watched your reflection in the mirror as he pressed you against the sink, free hand gripping you right under your chin.

“Fuck, look at you? So sexy…” He murmurs, the club's music pounding like your heart in your chest. He has a big hand muffling your cries as you soak his hands, dripping all over him. “Hear her?”

His murmur against your ear makes you tremble, shivers sending down your spine as he builds that pressure inside you. You nod, drooling against his palm, when he is hitting that spot that has your eyes rolling back, pressing on it over and over with his long, thick fingers. You’re screaming into his hand, ass arching against him.

“That’s it, pretty, cum f’me huh?”

You both get quiet then, you see it clear as day, your face in that mirror as he’d filled you, and he remembers sucking your juices off his fingers, god it’s been almost a year and he can’t get your taste off his mind. He’d been with a few women here and there since he didn’t think he’d see you again, but they were nothing like it, nothing like you.

How your body responded, every little muffled cry, he remembers dying to get you fully naked, planning it all out when he would call you. He wanted you to not even leave his bed, he’d fully taste you, make you cum with his mouth. He’d get to look into your eyes as he filled you so good, have your legs up over his shoulders while he pumped inside.

It’s like electricity in your quiet little home, the two of you sitting in a daze, your breath comes quicker when he leans across the table, brushing your cheek with his fingers, feeling the heat on them. “Warm?” He teases.

“Um, a little.” You stand then, taking his plate and smiling, acting as normal as you can. “All done?”

“Yeah, thank you.” He watches you wash them then, he can’t even fathom not having a dishwasher, but you’re there with your pretty hands and that sponge. He doesn’t want you to work, he doesn’t want you even doing this, you should just enjoy the baby.

But with how stubborn you are, how independent? He doesn’t know if you’ll even take his offer when he makes it.

“How about you come to my place with the little Dumpling this weekend? Maybe… stay a night? I’ll have her something set up.”

“Stay the night?” You nearly break the dish you’re drying, Satoru catches it, suddenly next to you. “Who are you, Edward Cullen?”

“Pshh, I look like a glittery fucking vampire?”

“A bit.” You’re both laughing softly then, he dries the plates and you show him where to put them up. “It’s nice having a giant around.”

“Almost whacked my head on your ceiling fans.”

“The hardships of being stupidly tall, hmm?”

“Hmm.” He leans against the counter now, snowy lashes lowering as he studies you intently, those eyes that just do something to you, even after this long. It feels like you’ve known him, when one of his hands delicately brushes down your shoulder, feeling the soft knit of your cardigan. “You dress like a little librarian.”

“Do I now? Not that night.”

His nostrils flare just a bit. “Not that night.”

Satoru had you lifted on that sink, sinking inside you for the first time, damn near whimpering in your ear as he kissed on your breasts, trying to yank them out as much as he could but failing. “Slutty little dress.”

“S-slutty? You’re… slutty!” You’re clinging to him as he stuffs you so full, too fucking full, your cunt is drooling down his veiny length as he fucks into you, your thighs pressing against his narrow hips.

“Both are, listen to her… ha…” He’s got one hand cupping your face, looking at you before he slams his lips down, tongues dancing while his cock keeps thrusting, tip dragging your spot, as you fall apart in the bathroom, a tangle of limbs intermingling with muffled cries. “F-fuck…”

“That dress still does things to my mind.” He admits, and you wonder then, how’d you both get so close? How were you nearly flush against him?

“Does it now?” Your attempt at a tease meets with a broken voice, and you clear your throat, looking down shyly. “I don’t think my ass would fit in it now, your baby girl gave me some hips.”

“I bet they’re sexy.”

“She gave me stretch marks too.”

“Sexy.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You shake your head then, brushing a hand up his chest, wondering just what his body looks like. He's clearly built, you can tell he's muscular, but you have to wonder just how he looks. “You… don’t date anyone?”

“Nah. I mean I have had some dates this year, but nothing serious.” He couldn’t say it’s because of you, because he compares women to this random girl he felt such a pull to, and now it’s a million times worse. Even picturing cute little stretch marks from having his baby makes Satoru feral, it takes a lot not to show you, to act cool and calm with a little smirk.

“I haven’t at all. I mean… I’m so busy with Reign, and the pregnancy.”

“Been a while then?” His words are full of suggestion, his hand now brushes the air across your waist, hovering, like he wants to pull you in, and you’d let him, when Reign starts crying. You both step apart, his hands in his pockets, yours nervously fidgeting with your sweater.

“I’ll go get her.” You come back with her now, and Satoru lights up at seeing her in your arms, bending down to kiss her downy soft hair, sighing.

“Why does she smell so good?”

“Baby smell. I know, it’s addictive.” You inhale her scent, smiling as you are once again a centimeter from Satoru’s lips, your gaze goes to them, glossy and plump.

“Will you come this weekend?”

“Y-yeah, I’ll be there Satoru.”

“I am going to learn things, I promise.”

“Satoru, just take it one day at a time. You’re doing great.” He nods then, gulping down his every emotion as he leaves you two, and it feels so awful and wrong to leave you both, every force in the world pulling him back.

“How’d it go, Mr. Gojo?” Kiyotaka asks, as he’s driving him back home.

“Amazing. They're so beautiful.”

“They?”

“I mean…” You both are. “Kiyotaka, do you know shit about babies?” The man smiles tiredly then, shaking his head.

“No, Mr. Gojo, but I see you’re so… happy?”

Satoru has a silly grin then. “I am, I want to set something up for them, think you can order more baby things? For my place?”

“Certainly, Sir.” He smiles as he watches Satoru in the rearview mirror, he never would have pictured something like this, but it’s clear Satoru is beaming.

*****

“Come in, come in!” You pause in awe as you carry Reign inside Satoru’s insanely beautiful home. It's probably ten of your place if not more, sleek and elegant, everything brand new and sparkling clean. He’s instantly taking Reign, who is babbling at him as he cradles her, melting you completely before you even take a step.

“Your place is beautiful.” You murmur, he smiles at you then, taking your diaper bag off your arm and leading you inside.

“Thank you for coming, I missed her already!? Yes I did, dumpling!” He plants kisses all over her face now, Satoru Gojo holding your baby just did things to your heart, rewired your brain, seeing them both light up.

“She missed you too.” You murmur softly, Satoru looks at you then, white teeth glinting under the soft lights, taking in your pretty dress.

“Mama looks pretty.” He whispers, loud on purpose clearly, you’re a blushing mess, when Satoru’s blue eyes sweep over you.

“You’re too much.” You say, but you’re lowkey falling bad, you’d talked with him so much these past few days, as he asked endless questions, but also as you two got to know each other. You’d fallen asleep on the phone last night, Satoru had listened to your light little snore, smiling and falling asleep with you.

It seems too easy, which terrifies you, but so far it’s been Satoru being excited to be a dad, so you keep trying to remind yourself that is what this was, but it’s hard when he looks at you that way. “Too much? You haven’t seen shit. Come on.”

“Oh god.” You follow him now, as he leads you through a wide open hall, winking at you.

“Ya ready?”

“I think so?” He opens the door and it takes your breath for a moment, it’s a fully done nursery with everything a baby could need and more. There’s a pretty crib, a bassinet, a rocking chair even, it’s painted a baby pink with little teddy bears lining the ceiling.

“I know, I went overboard, I don’t know how to not go overboard when I do things? And I want the best for her? I know you probably won’t be-”

“Satoru.”

“Hmm?”

You smile then, placing a hand over his where it rests on Reign’s lap. “It’s beautiful, it’s so beautiful.”

He exhales in relief then. “Yeah!?”

You’re giggling now. “Yeah.”

“Mommy likes it, yes!” His enthusiasm is infectious, it’s the first time you think you’ve truly been light hearted in so long, as he places her gently in the crib. “I had my mom go crazy and paid for it to get set up, really I did nothing but pay out.”

“It’s the most thoughtful thing in the world.” You hug him then on impulse, before pulling back shyly, your eyes meet each other, his hands on your waist. “But how will she go back to my shitty place? I hope she doesn’t get bougie.”

“I want her bougie.” You laugh again softly, she’s playing with the little ovehanging baby mobile, she’s enamored by the hanging stars. You watch him lean over the crib then. “She’s a princess, you know.”

You can’t take it then, you have to step out, shaking now, struggling to catch your breath, when Satoru steps out with you, looking at you with concern. Your feelings of him are utterly overwhelming, the beauty of Satoru fawning over his little girl puts these thoughts in your mind, of being a real family. As someone who didn’t have a father, and didn’t think Reign would, the hope filling you is so much.

“I got too excited.” He nervously admits, leaning against the wall next to you and rubbing the back of his neck. “I want her to have everything, if my mom didn’t talk me out of it she’d already have a pony.” You snort then, even through your tears. “There, a little laugh.”

“It’s not you, this is amazing, it’s just… I planned my life, I planned it all out with her, alone. And now… we won’t be? I don’t know how to process it, how to really believe it. But I’m so happy she’ll have it.”

“C’mere.” He pulls you against him into a big hug, arms wrapped around you tightly, bringing you against his chest. “I didn’t think I’d have this, a baby girl? I know what you mean, it’s not what I pictured.”

“Exactly. And… maybe I enjoy this too much.” You look up at him now, his lips quirked up at the side.

“Me too much?” He raises a brow.

“Maybe.”

“Hmm.” Satoru leans down close, when the doorbell rings, he exhales then, laughing softly, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “So I may have invited my mom. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” You are trying to calm your nerves when you meet her, long silky white hair and bright blue eyes. It's clear those genetics are strong, she surprises you by wrapping you in a hug.

“Where’s this grandbaby of mine?”

Soon she’s melting over Reign like the two of you have been, and Satoru’s made you both hot cocoa, family isn’t something you’ve really had, and to feel this comfortable and good? It’s almost like some dream, as you all are so cozy inside, and Reign is just getting fawned over, giving you a little bit of a reprieve until she’s hungry.

“I have a bottle, do you wanna feed her, Satoru?”

“I can do that?” You smile at him, nodding, and soon he’s got a bottle in her mouth, you position his arm just so as his mom watches you both with a knowing smile on her face.

“You know, I could always babysit sometime. For you two… to go out.” You both blush now, looking up at her.

“Go out?” You almost squeak the words out, sipping your cocoa now that it's gone just a little cold, enamored with watching Satoru.

“Yes, go out. Parents need time away.”

“We’re not… um…”

“I’d take you out.” Satoru says softly, and you feel those butterflies in your tummy going wild.

“Yeah?” You manage to ask, failing at being subtle.

“Yeah.” He smirks a bit, then Reign coughs. “What’s wrong!?”

“She needs to burp, calm down.” You lift her against your chest, patting her back now. “This is what you’ll do, it’s just some air in her tummy.”

“Oh thank god.”

“You three are precious.” His mom checks her phone then. “I have a meeting, but I hope to see much more of you both.”

“Me too Mrs. Gojo!” She smiles, planting a kiss on Reign’s head then yours before she leaves. “She’s amazing!?”

“I know, right? She was dying to meet her.” His hand rubs Reign’s little back, so big it’s as long as her almost, his other arm resting over the couch, brushing against you when he leans closer. “Thank you for having her.”

“Oh, Satoru… I just wish…”

“Yeah, me too.” He inhales and exhales, his eyes swimming with emotions. “I wish badly. I hate that I missed her coming into the world.”

“I’m so sorry… but I swear, she’ll not remember that, she won’t remember it at all.”

“But you remember.”

“Satoru, it's not your fault, don’t dare blame yourself.” He sighs now, his hand dropping off Reign to rest on your thigh over the thin black tights you wore.

“I don’t want you working yet. Will you let me help?”

“Satoru…” You shake your head. “You are not going to pay my bills.”

“Then stay with me? Stay the year with your baby… with our baby, please. She should have her mom home.”

“It’s too much of an offer, I can’t just live here! We aren’t even…”

“If you hate it I’ll get you your own place. I promise. Just let me take care of you… of both of you?” You stand, turning away, Satoru’s hands grip the sides of your arms as he leans close. “Please think about it.”

“I’m not a charity case, Satoru. I’m okay where I am.”

“I know that, okay? But I missed all of the pregnancy, I didn’t get to help with any medical bills, anything. Please just…” He turns your chin to face him, his glossy lips ever tempting as they hover just above yours. “Please think about it.”

“It’s overwhelming, okay?” He nods then, you lean back just so, feeling his lithe body against your back, leaning back just so.

“You’re not alone anymore.”

“Satoru…” He wraps his arm around you, resting his chin on your head. “You don’t have to do all this.”

“I want to.” For you and Reign, but Satoru can tell your pride is getting in the way, and he can tell you’re conflicted. “Give it time, no rush, yeah?”

*****

After a few weeks of constantly being at Satoru’s house, you damn near almost live there. You come over at about the same time Satoru’s off work, and he learns more and more about Reign every single day. He’s learned how to change diapers, how to feed her, and learns what certain cries mean. Reign rolls over for the first time on her mat and you’ve never seen anyone more excited than Satoru.

He takes selfies with her and they are Insta famous, he has Reign’s name painted on the nursery door, though she tends to still sleep in the room you stay in, with her little bassinet. Satoru’s had you in the guest room, but what you don’t know is at night he checks on you both, he kisses Reign’s forehead and tucks you in, he watches how cute the both of you are.

He watches you with Reign, ever attentive, and it’s about the time you’d have to go back to work, he can feel how devastated you are thinking of it, when you all are quietly sitting in the living room, having nibbled on takeout as Reign sleeps. You take a breath then, looking at the man you’re falling deeper for every day, every moment you spend with him.

“Satoru…”

“Yeah, sweets?” His little nickname always does something to you.

“I would love to stay with you, to stay home with her for a few more months, if you’re sure it’s still okay?”

Satoru jumps up then, picking you up and spinning you, you’re laughing breathlessly as he eases you down, and you’re flush against his body. Despite the endless times you’ve ached to kiss him, to do so much more, you both have been a little apprehensive, you both don’t know what’s okay, what’s not. You both feel far, far too much and are afraid of it.

“You’ll stay!?”

“I’ll stay. But I’ll cook, and help pick up, and-”

“Shh. Just stay.” He’s cupping your face, he’s so close you can almost taste his sweet breath, your lashes lowering over your eyes now. “I want you with her, let me do that for you? And… I want you here. All the time I… miss you when you’re not.”

“Are you giving me puppy dog eyes!?” You demand with a grin, and he pouts his lips.

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“It’s working.” You don’t stop yourself, not this once, when you lean up on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his, and when you do, the eclectic shocks shoot from his lips, it’s just like that night a year ago, but more intense. You pull back nervously, looking away. “I’m sorry, I…”

“No.” Is all he says, pulling you back, bending low and taking over your lips, he moves them gently over yours, big hands taking over your waist and dragging you closer, mouth opening, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips. Your mouth opens in a gasp, and then his tongue delves inside it. “Don’t apologize for kissing me.”

“Satoru…” He’s exhaling against your lips, kissing you again, soon your back is on the couch, and he’s moving over you, his hand trailing your waist, up to your breasts, your hands clinging to his shirt, gripping the smooth fabric as you fall apart from his kisses. They’re sweet, intense kisses, slow like he wants to savor every moment with you, growing more and more insistent.

He pulls up, just looking at you now, your thighs are around his hips, you feel that ache between them, not just physically either, you crave more and more of him, and you have been since you saw him again. You both just look at each other, speaking without words as he slips up your top, and you yank it nervously, earning his frown, stopping your hand.

“Not ready yet?” He asks, you shake your head.

“You won’t… I’m not… I don’t like my tummy anymore.” You admit softly, tears threatening to spill, Satoru lifts your shirt then, leaning down and running his thumb across the little stretch marks Reign left.

“Well, baby girl… I love your tummy. Should I show you?” You shake your head, breaths coming quicker and quicker now. “You had my baby, you carried her for me, and she left you more beautiful than before.”

“Oh, Satoru…” He kisses your tummy then, and desire shoots straight through you, your hands finally entwining in that silky hair you’ve craved to feel for so long, he’s looking at you under lidded eyes, pressing kisses lower.

“You’re beautiful everywhere. I bet it was sexy pregnant.”

You giggle just a bit, making Satoru smile against your skin, fingers tugging down your pants then, earning a little cry that makes his cock so hard it hurts. He’s been dying to taste you on his tongue, to feel you around his fingers, watch that pretty face in pleasure again, but he’s tried to take his time, tried to focus on Reign, but the thing is, he loves both of you.

He’s in love with you.

The way you move, the way you smile, the way you are with his baby? How your eyes brighten when Reign did something new, how you blushed when he gave you a compliment. But also, how your hips are shifting now, how your eyes are getting lidded, dilated with desire, and how the little silver lines run across where his baby was inside you.

“Satoru… that feels too good I… mmm!” You cry out quietly when his fingers find your slick heat, finding you drenched already.

“You this easy for me?” He asks, you want to retort, something witty, but you can’t, you just gasp out in pleasure when he’s got your pants off, and he’s parting your thighs, long fingers pressing in the plush of your skin as he stares at your pussy. “Fuck you’re pretty.”

You’re trembling as you’re fully bare in front of him, his breath on your clit alone makes you jerk, he places a teasing flick of his tongue right on your clit, you cover your mouth to hide the pathetic moan. He flicks his tongue again, thumps slipping the plump lips of your sex apart, watching the wetness pool out of your little hole, he catches it with his tongue, groaning as he tastes you.

Your hands clutch his hair so hard you’re tugging at his head, eyes rolling back in your skull, biting your lip hard not to make too much noise. He looks up at you, slinking his tongue all the way up your dripping pussy now, from your hole to your clit, groaning as you drip all over his mouth, his face.

“It tastes as good as I remember.” He whispers, enjoying that ruby red blush on your cheeks. “You’re so cute like this, sensitive?”

“You’re torturing me.” He chuckles, the hot air making you whimper, a sound that shoots desire through him. “Please…”

“Please what, pretty?” He casually licks you once more, leisurely as if he has all the time in the world, tilting his head just so to flick the underside of it, watching the tiny little clit twitch. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Make me cum, please.” He moans then, devouring your pussy, his movements less teasing and precise and sloppy, now, lapping up all the juices that pour as you cry out in pleasure, hips bucking up for more, then you feel his fingers sliding in and out of you now, pressing in deep, finding that spongy spot that makes you shiver.

“There you go, you’re clenching me s’good. Can’t wait to feel you around me.” He murmurs, curling his fingers just so, your legs are shaking so hard, you’re falling off that edge, chest rising and falling with your breaths.

“M-gonna… Toru…” Satoru moans now, the sound vibrating against your heat, he looks at you then, eyes dilated and dark, leaning up, his chin coated in your slick, shimmering.

“Cum for me, baby.” At that he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue swirling around it, humming and making you shatter under him.

You come so hard you see stars bursting, eyes rolled back, your mouth in the most slutty O as you gasp out, you’re arching off the couch, his name a quiet little broken scream in the quiet room. You feel his smug grin against your sensitive bud, as he nips at it then with his teeth, making you jerk and whimper, leaning back to study your clenching little hole.

“There you go, so good for me, hmm?” He coles those words, slipping up you now, sliding his finger up and down your drippy slit, kissing you, letting you taste yourself off him.

“Need you. All of you.” You murmur then, he pauses his kisses, looking down at you, and emotions surge and mix with the pleasure, the insane need for him to fill you, over and over again.

“If we do, I want more than just… co parenting. I want more than just sex. I want…” Satoru gulps then, cupping your face carefully, your hand comes to grip his wrist, thumb brushing over his strong, fluttering pulse.

“I want more too.” You admit, swallowing nervously, as one of your hands rests on his chest.

“I want you to be my girl.” You’re crying then, nodding eagerly at his sweet and pure words, when he’s kissing you again, salty tears mixing with your taste. “Will you be? My girl?”

“I would love to be yours.” He moans again, standing then, helping you up, your arms wrap around his neck as he carries you, your lips don’t separate when he backs into his bedroom.

“Want you in my bed, every night.” He whispers, easing you onto the floor to stand, slipping your top off and revealing your breasts which sway just a bit, you eagerly unbutton his shirt, showing every inch of his chiseled, perfect frame. You gasp when you finally see him, fingertips trailing across sculpted muscles.

“You’re perfect, Satoru.” You whisper in wonder, and he cups your face again, kissing you deeply, a kiss so beautiful it ruins you forever, Satoru has ruined you forever, you know now what you knew that night deep down. “It’s only you.”

“It’s only you. You’re perfect.” You gasp as he picks you up again, laying you on the bed, you’re eagerly tugging on his pants, gasping when you see his huge, veiny length, something you’d had inside of you bud hadn’t even seen. You stroke him, earning his soft whine, he pins your wrist above your head.

“Lemme touch him, please?” You beg, earning both your hands pinned, as you laugh breathlessly.

“No way, I’m not busting quick, I’ve waited too long for this.” You giggle, earning his pretty glare. “I’m not.”

“You didn’t bust quick that night?”

“Yeah, I did.” You shake your head at him, gasping when he’s pressing against your entrance, he tenses, muscles flexing, when suddenly you both hear it, Reign on the baby monitor. “Shit.”

“Shit…” You both stay completely silent. “Maybe she’ll stop?”

“I sure hope so. Need to get you pregnant again.”

You blink in shock now, as Reign quiets. “Huh!?”

Satoru grins, a devious fucking grin, as he presses your legs apart, one over his shoulder, sinking in as you bite your lip, so filled by him, trembling beneath him as you roll your hips. “I need to see you pregnant, gonna be so fucking sexy.”

“You’re insane, Satoru Gojo.” You gasp when he shoves his length fully inside you, bottoming out and you’re so full you can’t breathe, clinging to his bare shoulders desperately as he moans, feeling your walls flutter.

“You didn’t know that yet? I’ll have to show you, sweetheart.” He’s fucking you then so good, thrusting in and out of your slick cunt, which is drooling all the way down his veiny length. He’s smirking as he rolls his hips just so, watching you start to come apart. “You love it, huh? Cock filling you so deep?”

“Please…” His leaking tip kisses your cervix, you shudder under him, cumming so hard you can’t tether yourself anymore, and he revels in it, in your pretty face all scrunched up, all reddened as you cry out.

“That’s it, can’t help yourself? Want me to fucking fill you?”

“Please…”

“You’re such a good girl, hmm?” The words short circuit what’s left of your brain, as Satoru leans back on his knees, hands slipping up your body, gripping your breasts, which have little droplets of milk. You whimper, trying to cover them. “Ah-ah.”

He leans forward, sucking them then, you’re so sensitive you scream, thanking everything Satoru has a huge home and that the baby couldn’t hear anything, because the sounds he writhes out of you are filthy. He leans up, licking the little droplets off and grinning again, possessively gripping your throat, hovering over you as his cock slides in again.

“God, even that’s sweet. All of you. Sweet and slutty.” He huffs, you’re kissing him desperately, nails pressing against his scalp as they grip his hair. “My girl, you’re all mine now, hmm?”

“Wanna be… y-your girl.” You whisper, ending him as your cunt gushes down on him, as he feels the tight muscles grip him like a vise, he eases back, shoving your legs up then in a mating press, every instinct making him crave to make you his again. Cum in you, fill you, make you pregnant. “Toru… I haven’t… not a lot of… exper-ah!”

“That’s alright baby, I’ll fuck you so good, all you gotta do is take it, yeah? Look so fucking pretty f’me.” The sweet, emotional and cute Satoru is now feral, psychotic and possessive, his eyes so blue they hurt to look at, but you’re nodding eagerly. You’ve never been fucked like this, not even close, but he assures you, over and over that you can take him. “That’s right, gonna take all of me.”

Your thighs are smushed against your breasts as Satoru fucks you harder, perfect strokes that hit every spot, spots you can’t even figure out, the ridge of his cock hitting again and again until you’re close, already having cum twice. You’re sobbing under him as he leans his weight on your thighs, folding you in half and going deeper, deeper, bottoming out.

His balls slap heavy on your ass, so full and ready to pump his load in your eager hole, you’re a mess, tears on your cheeks, mumbling incoherently, pussy drooling and loosening more and more. You take him, all of him greedily then, as he slows just a bit, leaning up to press your thighs even higher, watching his cock disappear as your cunt sucks him in.

“Oh look, she’s taking me s’good, she wants it huh? You want it, greedy, slutty pussy.” He’s talking to your pussy, but you also can’t care, not when you’re so close, incoherently whining. “Can’t talk, sweetheart?”

“Gonna… cum… again… Satoru!” He moans as you speak his name, using a forearm to press your legs up, angling his cock just so, shoving deep as he presses a thumb to your clit, ending you utterly.

“There you go, cum on lemme fuckin feel her milk me.” He huffs, husky voice hoarse as your orgasm washes over you, full body, you’re shaking and sobbing as your arousal pours down him, making him tense, gasping. “Oh fuck…”

“Cum in me. Cum in me, please.” You beg weakly, and Satoru does then, full mating press, pumping all his cum so deep, filling you to the brim as he leans down, whimpering with you, tongues sloppy as you kiss.

“Feel s’perfect… gonna make you a mommy again, yeah?” You nod weakly, cunt throbbing as he pumps more and more, nails pressing into his back as you both ride your orgasms out, until you’re sensitive messes. “F-fucking… b-baby…”

“Satoru, g-god…” He is exhaling, easing your sore thighs down then, pulling out and watching the mess that pours from your pussy, a mix of his cum and yours, he grins at it.

“You’re so messy, hmm?” He shoves two fingers in your cunt, pushing his cum back in as you scream out. “Aww, you can’t take it baby?”

“Too much, ngh!” Satoru slips his fingers out, sucking on them and moaning, before repeating it, shoving them in your mouth, you moan as you suck them greedily, both kissing again, a tangled mess of limbs.

“Taste us together, god.”

“So yummy.” He kisses you again, again, again, as you struggle to come back down, heart still racing. “My god…”

“Yeah, holy fuck.”

“You’re like… you have a breed kink like bad.” He snorts then, kissing up the side of your neck.

“Could it have to do with the fact that my girl is gorgeous with my baby? And I’d love to really see her pregnant?”

“I want you there too. I do, even if this is insane.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, first we have a baby, then we move in together? What next, a first date?”

“You know… yes. Mom offered?”

You giggle at him. “So is this you asking me on a date!?”

“Mmhmm, with my cum pouring out. Wasting it, tsk tsk.” He starts kissing down your body again, when Reign cries, this time loudly. “Ugh.”

“Ugh.” You agree, brushing back his hair when he kisses your tummy. “You make me feel beautiful, Satoru.”

“You are.” He says simply, kissing you deeply, helping you up. “Most beautiful girls there are.”

“I…” You almost say it, but you’re still so afraid, those words on the tip of your tongue. Satoru smiles as if he knows.

“Go check on her.”

“Yeah.” You are soon all dressed, and Reign is no longer crying once she gets swaddled, her binky in her mouth. Satoru comes behind you, arms wrapping you tightly and pulling you against him.

“So, that date?”

“Mmm, got plans already?” You look back at him, as he holds you so sweetly in the quiet room.

“Yeah, the spa you never went to, brat.”

“Oh! Yes, let’s.”

*****

Satoru Gojo and you have had a baby, then moved in, and then you had your first date, which was both of you getting pampered, you were giggling when Satoru kept eating the cucumbers meant for his eyes, when he moved the masseuse because he got jealous of him. “My girl, I’ll rub your back.”

“So jealous.” You tease, but you then sigh in pleasure as his big hands rub your body just so.

“Maybe I am. Maybe I don’t ever wanna lose my girls.” You pause then, leaning up, breasts revealed as you’re just wearing a little towel. But Satoru’s eyes are serious, when he gently rubs his hands down to the back of your hips.

“You’re not losing us.” He’s kissing you, leaning over you in the spa, when he whispers in your ear.

“Let’s go.”

In the backseat of Satoru’s driver’s car, headed back home, you and Satoru devour each other, his hands on your rib cage, his lips on your nipples. Your head falling back, arching up for more, never, ever able to get enough. He’s filling you again, and you’re soaking him again, he’s fucking up into you one moment, one moment you’re controlling it.

A push and pull, a back and forth, endless kisses, until he’s filled you up again, whispering the lewdest things, picturing you as his wife, picturing you pregnant again, but the words are coming out as muffled, dirty words that don’t match. And you feel the same, you think the same, but you’re too fucked out to speak, too lost in everything that is Satoru Gojo.

That night, Reign is up and down, and you’ve just given her a bath, singing to her and cradling her. Satoru watches you, emotions catching in his throat, as a sliver of moonlight darts through the windows, illuminating the faces of the two girls he adores. Reign is being fussy, huffing, but then she hears you sing, and she’s calming, drifting off just so.

You catch him watching you, smiling at him, laying her back down gently. Satoru leans over, brushing a thumb across her cheek, as she sleeps so peacefully. “I love you, dumpling.” He murmurs to her, your heart aches at his words, as you repeat them softly to her, and Satoru wraps an arm around you.

“I love both of you.” You look at him then, so nervous, but he exhales, kissing you softly, feeling tears fall from his eyes, pulling back to see you’re trembling. “I know it’s a lot, but you have to know that I love you. I love both of you so much it hurts.”

“I love both of you.” Your heart hammers in your chest, as a hand slips up your back, and he leans down, blue eyes swirling with tears. “I’ll take care of you both, always. I… I’m complete now, with you both. I can’t ever lose you.”

“Satoru, never. I never want to be without you again.” Your hushed whispers are followed by sweet kisses, until you both close the door quietly, and Satoru has you picked up in his arms, effortless as you hold onto him, resting your foreheads against each other. “I’m home, here.”

“You are home, here. Want you to have my last name, both of you. Please.” You nod, sniffling as he carries you, kissing you desperately, pressing you against the door of his room once you’re back inside. “Need you to have my last fuckin’ name.”

“We will, Satoru. We’ll all be Gojos, hmm?” He grins so big then, easing you down and turning you, vivid memories of that night filling your mind, overwhelming your senses. Your head falls back as he kisses down your neck, slipping your shorts to the side to find you.

“So ready f’me?” You nod weakly. “Good, need to have a whole fucking clan of Gojos, yeah? Gonna give it to me?”

“Mnh, yes.”

You would give Satoru anything, and finally every piece that seemed so out of sorts is in place, as you found something you didn’t know was missing, and he found a family he didn’t know he had. As he eagerly works you so well that night again, you also know you want to give him more.

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read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62133598

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