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#i know it's all a pretend world in my mind but even then it's hard to request someone come back to you
tikosblogg · 17 hours
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Come Undone
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Summary: Best Friend Noah🥰
Warning: Fist fight, cussing, unprotected piv (plz don’t do that), mention of drug use.
A/N: Yall I have had writers block so bad…I’m so sorry if this is garbage. I really tired 😭💜
I stood by the bonfire, my heart pounding in time with the crackling flames. The glow illuminated the faces of my friends—Noah, Nicholas, Folio, and Jolly—each one lost in the bliss of the moment. I couldn’t help but steal glances at Noah.
He was tall, lean, adorned with tattoos that coiled like vines up his neck and across his arms. In the dim light, he seemed to radiate strength. Noah. My best friend, my secret crush, oblivious to the feelings that swirled within me. I ignored them, pushed them down for so long…but it’s useless.
Folio and Jolly were perched on the tailgate of Folio's truck, while Noah and Nicholas loomed nearby, their laughter blending with the music drifting from speakers hidden in the crowd. With every chuckle, my heart fluttered. I wanted to tell Noah how I felt, to lay bare the secrets of my heart. Yet, every time I opened my mouth to speak, the words shriveled into silence. What if I ruined our friendship? What if he didn’t feel the same?
As I shook off my doubts, that’s when she arrived. Jordan. The name sent icy tendrils down my spine, conjuring memories of high school torment. There she was—strutting towards us like she owned the night, her shimmering hair catching the glow of the fire. She was the embodiment of the girl who made my life a living hell, and tonight she had chosen to swoop into my world once more.
"Hey, Noah!" she smiled, leaning against the side of Folio's truck with a flirtatious smile, as she playfully tugged at the hem of his hoodie, that instantly soured my stomach. "What’s a guy like you doing with a bunch of misfits?"
Laughter erupted in the group, but all I could focus on was the heat creeping up my neck. I could pretend I didn’t feel the flames of jealousy licking at my insides; I could act like I wasn’t feeling small and insignificant next to the Amazonian figure of Jordan. My fingers clenched and unclenched at my sides, desperate for release.
Noah chuckled awkwardly, side-eyeing me for a moment. "Just enjoying a bonfire. Nice to see you, Jordan." He nodded, taking a step back from her.
She leaned closer, her voice dripping with malice. "You could have a lot more fun with me" Then she turned her gaze to me, a wicked smile blooming on her lips. "What’s Roxy doing hanging out with all the boys? Shouldn't she be off somewhere shooting up with her mommy?”
Everyone was silent. Eyes widened in shock. The reaction was instantaneous, the alcohol coursing through my veins igniting a fire of courage I didn’t know I had. The scars from high school throbbed, and before I even registered what I was doing, I was stepping forward. “Say it again,” I demanded, my voice steady in its resolve. A quiet “oh shit” coming from somewhere behind me.
Jordan laughed, a sound that was anything but genuine. “What? You didn’t hear me?” She gave a fake pout, which only infuriated me further. "I said, 'Shouldn't you be off shooting up with your mother? Or maybe picking her up from another crackhouse?”
In less than a heartbeat, I charged, adrenaline coiling tightly in my chest. I lunged at her, and the shock in the crowd reverberated around me like an electric shock. I swept her legs from under her, and in a heartbeat, she was on the ground with a hard thud. “Fuck you!” I came down on her, my fists raining with a furious energy I didn’t know I possessed.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard gasps and murmurs ripple through the crowd, but they were drowned out by the pounding of my heart. Each punch was cathartic, breaking through years of pent-up anger, old wounds that had never fully healed.
But just as quickly as it had started, it ended. Noah’s arms were around me, pulling me away with a force that startled me back to reality. “Roxy! Stop!” His grip was firm, and his chest was solid against my back. I felt my fists clench and unclench, ready for more, but I made no more attempts. Breathing heavily, I turned to face him.
His large hands cupped my heated cheeks. “Are you okay?” His voice was low, concerned, but there was something else simmering beneath the surface—as if the situation sparked a fierce intensity within him.
Breathless, I nodded, though I could feel the remnants of adrenaline coursing through my veins. As the crowd began to murmur and disperse, Noah led me away from the fire, his arm around my waist, gently guiding me toward the makeshift parking lot in the gigantic field we were in. His grip was warm, sending sparks of something undeniable running through me.
Once we reached nicholas’s suv, he opened the door and sat me down in the passenger seat, standing between my thighs like an ever-looming wall of safety. “Where the hell did that come from?” he asked, his brows knitted together in concern, mixing with a hint of admiration that almost made my heart skip.
“I don’t know, Noah. I just…I can’t stand her. She used to do that shit to me in high school. She brought up my mom an—”
“Hey,” he interrupted softly, his expression shifting. “You shouldn’t let her get to you, she’s a fucking basic bitch that peaked in high school.”
I looked up at him, feeling the warmth of the evening wrap around us. “But she…I just wanted her to know I’m not the same girl she used to pick on anymore.” My breath hitched, the truth of it spilling out, sparking all sorts of feelings I hadn’t yet embraced.
“That much is clear, and I’m proud of you. I won’t lie, That was pretty bad ass.” he said, a slight smile breaking through. “And if I were her, I’d think twice before messing with you again.”
Noah’s words wrapped around me like an embrace, and for a moment, I felt invincible. “She wants you, and it makes me sick. She can’t take you away from me Noah..” I whispered, looking down as the weight of my emotions pressed on my chest.
He stepped even closer, the warmth of his body surrounded me, while his eyes searched mine. “You won’t lose me. You’re my best friend, Roxy. Always.”
“I’m sorry..” I sighed heavily dropping my head in embarrassment. He shook his head, his hand reaching out to stroke my cheek. "Don't apologize.” His touch sent a shiver down my spine, a sensation I had often felt around him but never wanted to acknowledge. I turned my face towards his hand, pressing a soft kiss on his palm.
"Thank you for always being there for me," I murmured, my eyes finally meeting with his.
In that moment, something shifted between us. The air crackled with unspoken feelings. He leaned in, his lips brushing mine softly, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. The kiss was soft and sweet, ending way too soon for my liking.
"I've wanted to do that for so long" he smiled, his smooth voice making me crazy. "I've always felt this way, but I didn't want to ruin our friendship." He eyed me almost nervously. Like he was waiting for my rejection.
I lifted my hand, lightly running it up his abdomen feeling every muscle beneath his shirt. I reached his neck, finally cupping his soft cheek in my hand. “Ive always wanted you Noah.” I whisper lightly, a small smile tracing my lips.
He smiled, a mix of relief and anticipation lighting up his handsome face. “You have me.” He whispered, running his big hands up my thighs.
Without waiting for a response, he leaned in again, this time not holding back. His lips were firm and demanding, yet tender, exploring every inch of my mouth as if memorizing the taste of me. I moaned softly, opening my mouth wider, inviting him in. His tongue slid against mine, a sensual battle for dominance that left mine breathless.
My hands roamed over his body, desperate to feel every inch of him. I tugged at his shirt, and he quickly obliged, shrugging it off, revealing his tatted up chest and abs. I couldn't resist running my hands over his skin, feeling the heat radiating from his body.
"Wait, not out here" Noah panted, breaking the kiss. "Scoot back"
I needed no further encouragement. I scrambled farther into the back seat, my heart pounding with anticipation. He followed, his eyes dark with lust, slamming the door closed behind him. He wasted no time, capturing my lips again as he pulled me onto his lap, my legs straddling his hips.
My fingers fumbled with his belt, eager to release the growing bulge in his jeans. He groaned as I freed his straining cock, stroking it gently, relishing the feel of his hardness in my hand.
"Fuck, baby," he breathed, his head falling back. "You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted this"
I smiled, trailing light kisses over his jaw. "Show me, then.”
With that, he grabbed the hem of my jeans. He slid them down and off, before finally guiding his cock to my already soaking pussy, slowly lowering me onto him, taking him inch by inch. I gasped as he filled me, stretching me deliciously. His hands gripped my hips, guiding my movements as I began to ride him, my wetness clinging to his shaft.
"You feel so fucking good," he grunted, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Your pussy so fucking tight. So perfect." He groaned, pulling my shirt off throwing somewhere in the car.
His words only served to heighten my arousal. I leaned forward, my breasts brushing against his chest as I quickened my pace. His hands roamed over my body, squeezing my breasts. A breathy moan escaped as he pinched my nipple, taking the other into his warm mouth sucking softly sending waves of pleasure through me.
"Fuck I'm so close," I whimpered, my voice breathless. "I'm gonna cum, Noah please."
He bucked his hips, driving himself deeper into me, at a fast pace. His lips released my nipple with a soft pop, as he groaned against my hot skin "Cum for me, baby. Let me feel it."
As if on cue, my orgasm crashed over me, ripples of pleasure radiating from my core. I cried out, my body trembling as he continued fucking me through it. Soon after he followed suit, his cock throbbing inside me as he came, filling me up.
Breathless and satisfied, I collapsed onto his chest, our hearts pounding in unison. He kissed the top of my head, his arms wrapped tightly around me. “Are you okay?” He whispered as his long fingers ran through my hair.
I lifted my head, cupping his cheeks with shaky hands. I kissed his lips softly, a huge smile falling over my lips. “I’m perfect.” He smiled, pecking my lips one last time before reaching for our clothes. We got dressed, and he turned toward me with his perfect smile. “You ready to go back out there?”
I sat quietly for a minute before giving him an answer. “Actually…can we go back home?” He smiled, nodding his head before leaving to round up the rest of the guys. My heart happy that the man I wanted, wanted me back.
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thinkinginpen · 18 hours
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Every Free Moment
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a/n: Sometime's wannabe writers have a little baby fever, okay? pairing: husband!tony x wife!reader w/c: 2.1k warnings: romance, hinting, love, talking about kids, etc. summary: You have been married for awhile now so Tony was thinking about kids and you were ready to plan
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In the warm glow of the evening, Tony Stark and his wife, you, sit curled up together on the couch in the privacy of their home. The soft hum of technology in the background is a comfortable constant, and you can hear the occasional sound of city life from outside. Tony's fingers idly trace lazy patterns on your back as he gazes at you, a mix of love and thoughtfulness in his eyes.
"You know, we've been married for a while now," he begins, the corners of his mouth curling into a soft smile.
His gaze drifts for a moment, as if lost in thought, before returning to focus on you. "We've been busy with our lives, our careers, our adventures," he continues, his voice a gentle rumble, "but there's something I've been thinking about lately."
He pauses for a moment, gathering his words, then looks directly into your eyes. "I've been thinking about the future, our future. And it got me wondering," he says, his smile widening slightly, "Have you ever thought about having kids?"
The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. You can feel your heart skip a beat as you look up at him, surprise and wonder in your eyes. "Children?" you reply, your voice soft.
Tony nods, his smile growing a bit. "Yeah, kids. Little bundles of chaos and joy, the whole nine yards." he replies. He's trying to sound nonchalant, but there's a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. "What do you think?"
You take a moment to gather your thoughts, your mind swirling with the implications of his question. The noise from outside seems to fade away, just for a moment.
"I think… it sounds incredible," you reply, a smile blossoming on your face. "And a little bit terrifying."
Tony lets out a small chuckle, his hand coming to still on your back. "Welcome to the club," he says, a touch of sarcasm in his voice. "I've been thinking about it, and I can't help but imagine little feet running through the penthouse, little hands messing with the tech in the lab… and your face every time I try to give them a suit."
The image brings a small laugh to your own lips. Imagining tiny hands tinkering with Stark technology, little children zooming around the penthouse under the watchful eye of their parents, it's a picture that simultaneously fills you with joy and anxiety.
"I can see it now," Tony muses, a playful gleam in his eye. "Kids with Stark brains, wreaking havoc on the world and stealing the show at every Avengers event."
You poke him lightly in the chest, a mixture of mock offense and amusement on your face. "And your humility. Can't forget about passing that one down."
Tony feigns an expression of hurt, his hand coming up to his chest. "Me, humble? I thought everyone recognized my genius and innate greatness." He smirks, his eyes sparkling with humor.
You poke him again, rolling your eyes. "Of course everyone does," you reply, "It's just you that needs to be reminded of that all the time."
Tony grins, his expression lighting up at your playful response. He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly. "See? You know me too well," he says with a chuckle. "Our kids are gonna have it all: brains, looks, charisma… and a healthy dose of smartass."
You lean into him, feeling the warmth of his body as you continue the conversation. "And what about you, Tony? Are you ready for late nights, midnight feedings, endless toy battles?"
Tony pretends to consider this for a moment, a dramatic pause. "Eh, how hard could it be? I've handled aliens, super soldiers, and an AI that tried to take over the world. A few children? Piece of cake."
You can't help but laugh at his blithe confidence. "Right, right. Because managing a business empire and saving the world totally prepared you for the trials and tribulations of fatherhood."
Tony grins, enjoying the banter. He knows you're right, but is always up for a challenge. "Hey, if I can handle being Iron Man, I can handle anything," he asserts. "Besides, I'll have you to keep me in line, right?"
You smile, leaning your head against his chest. "Of course. If you start teaching them about circuit boards and repulsor tech before they can walk, I'll be there to rein you in."
"Spoilsport," he mutters affectionately, nuzzling his chin on top of your head. "That's no way to treat the next generation of Stark intellectuals."
"It's called letting them be kids, Tony. Kids have time for all the Stark-level genius when they're older." You reach up and give him a light smack on the chest.
Tony lets out another small chuckle, holding his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, I get it. We'll start with the basics first. Like how to build a robot that can fetch a beer."
You roll your eyes, but there's fondness in your voice as you reply, "And there's the Stark genius shining through. How could I forget the most important lesson: beer-fetching robots."
"Hey, a skill they can use for life," Tony quips, grinning widely. "Besides, when I've built an army of beer-fetching robots, it'll revolutionize parties. No more having to get up and get your own drinks. The future is now."
"Oh yes, because what every child dreams of is building an army of robotic assistants to satisfy their father's every whim." You can't help but laugh at his plan, imagining the inevitable chaos that would ensue.
Tony simply shrugs, the picture of nonchalance. "What can I say? If it's good enough for me, it's good enough for them." He then pulls you closer, his smile softening. "In all seriousness, though, I'm excited. I never thought I'd even have a family, back when I was too busy making weapons and partying nonstop."
You nod, understanding the deeper layers of his words. The man who once seemed too fast-paced and self-absorbed to even consider commitment is now talking about building a family. The change is stark in more ways than one.
"I'm happy we found each other then," you say, your voice quieter now. "I can't imagine anyone but you being the father of my children."
Tony's expression softens at your words. He reaches out to run a hand through your hair, a gesture both affectionate and contemplative. "Yeah," he replies, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and awe. "Who would've thought I'd end up here, building a future with the person I love more than anything?"
"Certainly not the media," you joke, grinning a little. "You were always portrayed as the eternal bachelor. The last person anyone would have picked to settle down."
"Well, they always did get me wrong," he says, flashing a cheeky grin. "The media doesn't understand the complex and layered being that is Tony Stark." He pauses, a gleam in his eye. "That, and you just tamed me. Nobody else could manage it."
"Tamed, is that what we're calling it now?" you tease, raising an eyebrow. "I thought I just distracted you with enough science and sarcasm that you forgot how to party."
"Distracted, tamed, same thing," he replies, a hint of a smirk on his face. "And speaking of distractions, I do recall a certain someone who always has my attention." He pulls you closer, his voice dropping to a huskier tone. "Distract me a little more, why don't you?"
You laugh lightly, pretending to consider it. "Hm, I don't know…" you say, deliberately dragging it out to tease him. "Distracting you sounds like a lot of work… I might be tired from the day…"
Tony's eyes narrow, sparkling with a familiar competitive gleam as he senses you're enjoying this a bit too much. He leans in, his voice low and seductive. "Oh, I can think of a way to wake you up."
"Oh really?" you reply, feigning nonchalance even as a shiver of anticipation runs through you. "And what method would that be, Mr. Stark?"
Tony's lips curl into a sly smile. "Oh, I think a practical demonstration would be far more effective than words," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper.
You can't help but laugh at his audacity, even as your heart starts to race a little. "Ah, the hands-on approach. How very scientific of you," you tease.
"I am a man of science and innovation," he replies, his hand tracing the outline of your cheek. "And I believe in testing all theories thoroughly." The words are spoken lightly, but the heat in his gaze tells a different story.
You pause, suddenly feeling a wave of realism wash over the playful banter. "Wait, wait," you say, stopping him mid-sentence. "We need to think about this practically. What about your career, Tony? Stark Industries is your life."
Tony stops, taking a moment of surprise at the abrupt shift in tone. He pulls back a bit, an eyebrow raised in confusion. "Well, yeah, Stark Industries is important to me," he admits, "but so are you. So would be any children we might have."
"I know, I know," you reply quickly, trying to placate him with a reassuring smile. "It's just that… being a public figure, the CEO of a huge company… that brings a certain level of responsibility. And there will be media scrutiny, not to mention the changes to your reputation…"
Tony lets out a breath, understanding your concerns. "Yeah, I get it," he says, his expression more serious now. "The press would be all over us. And there's no way to hide a pregnancy or a couple of kids when you're one of the most high-profile couples in the world."
"Exactly," you reply, feeling a bit relieved that he's seeing the issue. "And as for Stark Industries… can you afford to devote less time to it? Having kids is a full-time job in itself, it's not something you can just juggle with running a business empire."
Tony scrubs a hand over his face, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. "I know that." He admits. "I've thought about it, trust me. But are you suggesting that we put our family planning on hold because of my career?" His voice is a blend of defensiveness and genuine curiosity.
"I'm not suggesting anything," you counter, your voice gentle but firm. "I'm just pointing out the reality. Being a parent is a huge commitment, and it will change your life - our life - dramatically. And part of making sure we're ready isn't just thinking about how it affects us, but how it will affect your work and reputation."
Tony lets out a sigh, leaning back against the couch. He knows you're right, but it clearly isn't easy to hear. "You're always the voice of reason," he mutters, though there's a hint of affection in his tone. "It's a pain in the ass sometimes."
"Somebody's got to keep you grounded," you reply, your tone light. "Otherwise your ego will inflate even more and the world will drown."
Tony lets out a laugh, shaking off his minor pout. "Right, right. Without your influence I'd be insufferable." He then leans back in, a devilish gleam in his eye. "And what better reason to get the baby-making started now than to give the press something to talk about?"
Your heart skips a beat at his blunt proposition, your mind spinning to keep up with his swift shift in mood. "Just… start trying?" you stammer, the idea both thrilling and terrifying. "Just like that?"
Tony nods, his eyes fixed on you, his determination unwavering. "Just like that," he affirms. "We don't need time to think about it. Neither of us is getting any younger. We've got our lives mostly together. We love each other. We'd make great parents."
You take a deep, steadying breath, trying to process the idea he's throwing out. "It's not that simple, Tony," you reply, though your voice waivers a bit as your mind starts to spin with the implications. "Even if we decide to go ahead and try, there's no guarantee we'll get pregnant right away."
"I know that," he counters, a slight impatient edge in his voice. "But that's no reason to delay or hold back. The sooner we start, the sooner we'll know. And I don't want to wait anymore. I want to start a family with you. As soon as possible."
"No more excuses," he says, his hand coming to rest on your knee. "No more worries about work or the media or what people will think. From now on, every free moment we have, we're working towards this. Every chance we get, we're going to try for a baby."
Your mind is still spinning with the enormity of it all, but you can't deny the effect his words are having on you. His determination and desire are contagious. "Every free moment…" you repeat faintly, feeling a rush of anticipation mixed with trepidation.
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alsojnpie · 4 months
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If the ask thing is still allowed, is ur Papyrus purely the horrortale one or is OG Papyrus also there? Love ur art and stuff btw aaaa Ur self-ship art is so cute >\\\\\<
awwwwwe thank you :' ) i will hold your kind words tight and treasure them forever❤️❤️
and you mean my imaginary friends right?
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sometimes i do imagine og papyrus because it makes me sad to think of him being left out and i love him so much. but that's more me playing with daydream toys, then him being a real imaginary friend. (which like, playing with daydream toys is kind of the first step to imaginary friend! but..)
i haven't seen the real imaginary friend him ever since years ago (i can rewind the tape in my mind and you can actually pinpoint the second his heart rips in half) and it feels insulting to force. he left on purpose. i could probably make a new one and indeed I've half-heartedly tried but again it feels rude. also that was the most tangible and least constructed papyrus in my mind so anything i make specifically to replace him inevitably feels kinda phony.
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coffee-and-geto · 2 months
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“HOW CAN I LOVE WHEN I’M AFRAID TO FALL?”
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“I fell in love with you as soon as I saw you, as soon as you covered me from my father, as soon as I heard your laugh, saw the amazing mother you are, and realized I never wanted you to leave this house.”
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✧ pairing: CEO! satoru gojo x f!reader
✧ summary: to your almost regret, your life as a single mother seems to be weighing more and more heavily on your worn-out shoulders. so what could be better than pretending to be the CEO’s girlfriend of the business you work for, knowing that his father is the general manager?
✧ warnings: +18 only, smut, nsfw, her daughter is called hinata, fake dating/single mom tropes, angst, mother insecurities, fluff, reader’s ex is a jerk, unprotected sex, sex (p in v), overstimulation, pussy drunk (satoru), nipple play, fingering (f!receiving), oral (m), this fic is (really slightly) inspired from the french book ‘un printemps pour te succomber’ by morgane moncomble, including therefore small similar dialogues, (pls guys learn french only to read this masterpiece!!), fanart by @/ilameys on twt.
✧ wc: 10,154
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“Can I taste the frosting?”
Your lips curve into a smile. “Of course, angel.” You crouch down and hand the spatula coated in pastel pink frosting to your five-year-old daughter. Her little fist wraps around the handle, and joy spreads across her angelic face like rays of sunshine. “So? How is it?”
“It’s so good!” she exclaims, and you chuckle.
“I’m glad you like it.” You glance at the clock in your kitchen. “I’ll put the frosting in the fridge. While the cake bakes, go back to playing, and I’ll call you to help decorate the cake as soon as it’s ready, okay?”
Hinata nods, blowing you a kiss that you return after a moment of surprised hesitation, your lips forming an “O”. Amid delighted laughter, she skips away, and you turn back to face the bowl of cake batter.
Why does it have to be so hard?
Every birthday, you hold back tears because who said ‘single mom’ doesn’t rhyme with ‘baking your own birthday cake so your daughter can sing to you’? But what hurts more — this, or seeing your flesh and blood envy her female friends who have their dads in their arms and their mothers content with their families?
The silence of loneliness can sometimes be louder than company.
“Happy birthday! Happy birthday, mama!” your daughter sings, clapping her hands as you blow out your candles in the warm, yet dimly lit, living room. “Come on, come on! Let’s eat the cake!”
With a knife, you cut two slices, one for each of you, and it only takes a few more minutes for both your mouths to be covered in pink frosting, with laughter echoing in the room. The heartache, briefly chased away by the short-lived joy, returns later that night when your daughter snuggles up in your arms in your double bed, which seems to be missing something.
Fuck, being a single mom is tough, you think as you wipe away the tears flooding your cheeks with the back of your hand. No one to support you, all the responsibilities fall on your shoulders, and now doubts about your daughter start invading your mind: “What if she blames you later for not having a father?”, “What if she thinks you’re a bad mom?”, “Do her friends at school say anything about you being the only unmarried woman among all the parents in her class?”
These thoughts have never stopped, not even during your pregnancy, whether about the weight gained or lost, or the changes in your body. Are these regrets? But how could you regret bringing such an angel into the world? Maybe it’s more about the lousy partner who left you the second he found out you were pregnant.
Probably the second option.
°°°
“WHERE IS MY SON?!”
A male voice thunders across the entire floor of the company. You jump, turning to one of your colleagues over the small partition set up for employee privacy. “Who’s yelling like that?” you whisper, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“I heard it’s the new general manager…”
Your frown deepens. “Is that why they handed me the summary of our sales figures to drop off at the office upstairs?” To prove your point, you lift the massive stack of documents.
Your colleague presses his lips together, his eyes widening in a way that already gives you the answer. “Oh God, you’re the one in charge of that? Good luck. It’s to be delivered to the new director.”
A sigh escapes your lips.
For a start to the workweek, it seems you’re about to face the stormy mood of the new boss, who apparently brought his kid to the office. What a perfect beginning.
As usual, the upper floor is deserted, as it’s generally reserved for executives with direct ties to the company’s CEO. Few people take the elevator to reach the top floor of the skyscraper. Arriving in the lonely hallway, it should be a simple task to knock on the boss’s office door, drop off the elephant-weight stack of documents, and leave.
So why does the sound of running footsteps seem to be getting closer and closer behind you?
In a flash, a man dressed in a navy blue suit rushes past you, bumping your shoulder. He nearly topples the threatening stack of papers, but you manage, at the last second, to catch everything before you lose your balance. The young man opens the door to the women’s restroom, and before entering, he glances over his shoulder.
Never in your life have eyes made such an impression on you.
Two cerulean blue orbs lock onto yours with a mischievous aura. A smirk tugs at the corner of his thin, pink lips. From his pale skin to his albino hair, the man exudes charm and beauty from every pore. The sheer allure of his appearance leaves your brain too stunned to react, numbing it. How can someone be this handsome?
“SATORU!”
His serene and amused expression vanishes instantly, and you jump in response. Replaced by an exaggerated look of fear, he addresses you, “Cover for me. If he asks you, you never saw me!” And his tall, slender body disappears into the women’s restroom.
More footsteps echo down the hallway, this time from a second man, just as tall and physically similar to the young man you just encountered — though slightly older, with wrinkles lining his face and a mix of albino hair and silver from age. You have no time to react except to straighten up against the wall.
His blue eyes, more gray and stern, settle on you as he approaches. “Did you see a man? A tall idiot running around and flirting with any woman he sees,” he grumbles the last part, his eyes thoughtfully fixed on the light carpet.
You shake your head robotically. “No… I—”
“Never mind,” he cuts you off with a dismissive wave of his hand — as if your answer is irrelevant and he’s heard it at least twenty times before. He sighs and scratches at the stubble on his chin. “Who are you, anyway?”
“An employee, sir.” You gesture to the stack of documents that’s beginning to make its weight known in your arms. “I was asked to drop this off in your office.” The tone of your voice almost pleads with him to let you in and relieve you of the annoying burden.
“The report? Ah yes, of course.” You sigh in relief as he unlocks the door with his keys. “I suppose you’re wondering who I am?”
“The new general manager, I guess?” you reply, raising an eyebrow. You drop the heavy stack onto the desk and exhale deeply. “We heard you on every floor.” You can’t help but chuckle at your own remark, offering the director an apologetic smile.
He rolls his eyes, but a light chuckle still rumbles in his chest. “You’re right. It’s because of my son.”
His son?
You repeat the word aloud, confused, and he clarifies. “My son is the new CEO of this company, and I almost regret my decision to give him that position.” He shakes his head, his gaze drifting toward the blue sky visible through the large window, then refocuses on you. “I apologize in advance. He’s going to be a real handful.”
“I understand. I think we’ll manage to put up with him,” you add with a smile.
In the end, this new boss doesn’t seem as strict as your colleagues have been saying, and his story about his son is more amusing than anything. You cough slightly into your elbow and clear your throat, murmuring an apology.
“Are you sick?” the director inquires.
“A little,” you admit reluctantly, feeling embarrassed as you adjust the mask on your face. “Sorry. I couldn’t stay home.”
“No problem.” He crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. “Well, I think I have some work to do. See you later, I suppose.”
You don’t hesitate to leave the boss’s office and quietly step into the women’s restroom. “Is… someone here?” you murmur in a hoarse voice.
The creaking of a door answers you, and the general manager’s son emerges from a stall, looking cautious. He looks like a little boy checking to see if his hiding spot in a game of hide-and-seek has been discovered, which makes you stifle a discreet giggle. He turns to you and offers an apologetic smile. “Sorry about earlier. I didn’t hurt you, did I, sweetheart?”
The nickname catches you off guard, and warmth floods your face. “N-No, I’m fine. You’re the new CEO, right?”
“Satoru Gojo, at your service, pretty girl.” He winks, a reminder that he’s quite the flirt.
You introduce yourself in return, running out of things to say, your hands nervously clasped by your sides.
“Pretty name,” Satoru murmurs. He closes the stall door behind him and exhales, shaking his head. “Phew! That was a close one! Thanks again!” He strides toward the exit with one last charming smile in your direction, leaving the restroom and a lingering scent of cologne behind him.
°°°°
“Why aren’t you answering?”
“Damn it, you’re so annoying with this!”
“There’s no point in moving every few months, I’m going to find you.”
“For fuck’s sake, answer my messages! I told you I need you! I swear I’ll help you raise Hinata this time.”
“I made a mistake, so let me fix it by answering my fucking messages! I know you’re reading them!”
You swallow hard, your throat tight, and press the “block this contact” button on your phone. It’s the fourth time this month. He’s been harassing you with messages and finding a way to contact you no matter how many numbers he uses, even when you change yours. The same goes for your address, as apparently changing apartments is no longer enough to escape him.
You know he’s in debt — one of the many consequences of his excessive gambling, even when you were still in a relationship with him. Smoking, drinking, and of course, downing tobacco like it was water, only to charm you while hiding this lifestyle to get you into his bed, then fleeing the moment you were pregnant.
So now that he needs a woman and a child to escape his debts, he’s reaching out to you — the woman he abandoned after promising marriage (without a ring, of course), got pregnant, and deserted, only to come crawling back to you.
“Mama? You okay?”
Your daughter’s concerned little voice pulls you out of your daze. The cartoons playing on the TV haven’t had the desired effect — they’re not distracting her from the anxiety that’s been gnawing at you day by day. Maybe today, it’s showing enough for people to notice?
“I’m fine, angel,” you reassure her with a perfect smile — perfectly fake, because that’s something you’ve learned to anchor over time.
You pat the empty spot on the couch next to you, and she nestles under your arm. “If you say so…” Hina murmurs, clutching her worn-out bunny plush.
The state of the plush catches your attention, and a pang of guilt stabs at your heart. What kind of mother lets her daughter carry around a stuffed toy in such poor condition? Maybe you are a bad mother? Otherwise, why would Hina deserve such a pitiful situation? She deserves so much better than you…
“Little angel?” you murmur as she wraps her tiny arms around your waist and nuzzles into your belly. “Are you okay?”
“I love you.”
And the three little words sound… unreal.
Hot tears blur your vision, and it takes every bit of strength you have to whisper back, “I love you too, Hina.”
°°°°
3:00 PM.
In less than an hour, you’ll need to pick up Hinata from school.
Normally, you avoid lingering at work. You go through your usual routine as an employee, nothing special or fun — a hello, goodbye, see you tomorrow to colleagues without worrying about what’s happening around you or the gossip, even when it involves coworkers getting together.
The only change: now it’s you who gets stuck with the task of delivering all the documents to the general manager. According to one of your peers, he doesn’t seem to be strict or threatening when it comes to you. So this time, you’re tasked with delivering an additional file about the production of a new product on the market to both the CEO and the general manager. For the second time, you head up to the highest floors of the company headquarters to knock on the CEO’s door — it’s the closest. But no one answers.
No surprise, since the director’s son spends his time running through the hallways to avoid his father and shirk his responsibilities, right?
You’re about to knock on the Director’s door, but a familiar gust of wind brushes your face with a soft, fresh breeze. Satoru Gojo appears beside you with a charming smile and glances at what you’re holding.
“H-Hello, sweetheart. How are… you?” he greets, slightly out of breath from yet another chase with his father.
“I’m fine. Here.” You hand him one of the folders, and he takes it, pretending to read it. “The next meeting—” But he grabs the second document and, before you can react, opens the door to his office and casually tosses them inside before shutting the door.
“SATORU GOJO! KEEP IT UP, AND I’LL DISOWN YOU!” The boss’s voice echoes through the entire floor as he appears from behind the emergency exit door. “YOU!” He points a finger at you, standing right next to him. “Still bothering our employees?” He grumbles, his jaw clenched so tightly that you can hear his teeth grinding.
“That’s not true, father!” Satoru protests, feigning outrage. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. “You’re chasing me while I’m just saying hello to my girlfriend?”
You freeze, turning your head toward him, as lost as the Director, who squints his eyes. “Your girlfriend? Since when—”
“I was going to tell you,” Satoru continues, shaking his head, his fingers squeezing your waist while you remain paralyzed. “Here’s my new girlfriend.”
“Are you lying to me and dragging some poor woman into your childish games?”
In the back of your mind, you note that he doesn’t seem to recognize you despite the last time you saw each other.
“What? I’m telling the truth! Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” And he leans in to plant an affectionate kiss on your cheek.
Your heart almost stops for a second. But you quickly snap back to reality under the insistent embrace of his arm and his hand around you. “Y-Yes…”
What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into?
“Well, if you’ll excuse us, father, my darling and I are in a hurry.” He leads you away before you have time to protest and heads toward the elevator with you.
Once the doors close, Satoru takes your hands in his and leans toward you. “I can explain everything.”
If his cerulean blue eyes hadn’t been so persuasive, you would have exploded right there and then to yell at him.
You, the girlfriend of the CEO of the company you work for? Did this really have to happen to you? You can already picture your termination letter under your nose as you exit the back of the building. A glance at your watch tells you that if you don’t hurry, you’ll be late to pick up your daughter.
“You’re in a rush?”
“I have to pick up my daughter before I’m late,” you reply curtly, “and look at the mess I’m in now!”
“I know, I know…” Satoru rubs the back of his head, right where his immaculate undercut is. “Maybe I can explain on the way? Where’s your car?” He looks around the parking lot, his eyes searching.
The question — however mundane — makes you blush with embarrassment. “I… take public transportation…” you mumble, pouting.
He furrows his brow, as if you just admitted to showering with maggot-infested soap. “Excuse me? I don’t take public transportation.”
“Well, I do.” A hint of defiance returns to protect your pride.
How could he possibly understand when he lives like a rich man, without worrying about grocery shopping, paying bills, and of course, taking public transportation during the week to avoid wasting gas because it costs an arm and a leg! But for him, that must not be part of his daily life, especially since he’s one of society’s privileged.
“Let’s take my car then.” He says this without waiting for you, as you remain standing there. He pulls out his keys and opens the passenger door. “What are you waiting for?”
“But— I— Are you out of your mind?” you burst out. “I’m not getting in that car! I’m supposed to pick up my daughter, and now I’m pretending to be your girlfriend! In front of your father!” You emphasize your words with wild, energetic gestures.
He bursts out laughing.
Cute.
“No chance. We’re going to pick up your daughter and clear this all up. And please, stop refusing to get into a car that’s way better than those buses that reek of sweat.” He rolls his eyes, and you note how much he resembles his father when he does that.
“I have an errand to run anyway,” you persist.
“And that doesn’t change the fact that I want you to get in this car,” Satoru chuckles.
Taking a closer look, the car is as luxurious as the ones you dream about at night — yours, by comparison, looks like a junk heap ready for the scrapyard. Reluctantly, you climb in, Satoru’s chivalrous demeanor not going unnoticed as he snickers at your surrender. He quickly gets in, asks for the address of the school, and sets off after starting his car, which smells just as good as he does. You feel like a piece of trash in the middle of this little universe he inhabits.
“My father bugs me every day to find a woman,” Satoru murmurs at first, one hand resting on his thigh, clad in business suit trousers, his eyes fixed on the road over his round sunglasses. “That’s one of the reasons I avoid him.”
“And why involve me?” you snap back.
“Well, to be honest, it was partly impulsive. I met you the other day, and then, in the moment, I just wanted my father to leave me alone.” He has a half-smile that makes you swallow hard, and he gives you a knowing look before returning to a serious expression. “I’m sorry for dragging you into all this.” A pause. “I just hope you’re not married, otherwise—”
“No, I— No.” You close your eyes for a moment, the innocent question burning like a fiery arrow piercing your already aching heart. Did you just hear a sigh of relief? “And your father doesn’t seem to have recognized me since the other day,” you can’t help but point out.
“The mask.” Satoru grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. “He didn’t recognize you because of that. He’s always had a bad memory and poor eyesight.”
“But you recognized me.” You focus on the road’s scenery to avoid confronting his mesmerizing eyes. “I’m not going to wear my mask forever, you know? And I don’t want to keep pretending—”
“Please,” Satoru whispers, placing a hand on yours, sending a shiver down your spine. “Just until he and my family get off my back.”
“I’m sorry, but—”
“How much do you want?” He asks immediately, as if he just remembered something.
“What? No! I don’t want your money!” you protest as quickly as he did. “No, I…” And you groan, sinking into your seat.
Holy shit!
“What have I gotten myself into, seriously…” you moan, crossing your arms over your chest, a grimace distorting your features.
“Please. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’ll do everything to make it just a minor detail… I’m only asking you to change your name in front of my father when you pass as my girlfriend, wear a mask, and change your hairstyle at work — if we want to avoid suspicion. He won’t suspect a thing, I swear.” He pulls into the school parking lot and parks quietly.
Thoughts bombard your already exhausted mind, and you massage your temples. Why does this have to happen to you and no one else?
Satoru murmurs your name, making you lift your head. “It will only be a few family events, just for appearances, nothing more. I won’t bother you any further.”
You sigh, and the sound of the bell signaling the end of classes rings out. “I need to think about it. Thanks for the ride. Have a nice—”
“Come back. I’ll take you home,” Satoru suggests, pressing the button to unlock your door.
What’s the point of refusing?
You nod, finally getting out of the car to go pick up your daughter, who runs toward you as soon as you reach the gate.
"Mama!" She jumps into your arms.
You return her embrace, heading towards Satoru’s car. “Did you have a good day?”
“So much fun! I made you a drawing!” She’s practically bouncing as you reach the car.
Noticing your daughter’s confused look, you clear your throat. “Uh… A-A friend of mine is giving us a ride home, okay?” She blinks innocently and waits for you to open the car door, which is almost as tall as she is. Hinata gets in as you do, and you cough slightly. “This is Gojo. My friend.”
“Hello, princess.” Satoru turns his head over his shoulder with a big smile. “What’s your name?”
“Hinata,” she replies, her legs gently swinging.
“Very pretty.”
“Thank you.” She blushes and tries to hide a smile.
On the way, you try to fill the awkward silences with small talk until you arrive at the supermarket.
You had promised to buy Hinata a new stuffed animal since last night after spending hours worrying that you weren’t being a good mother. Again.
“That one!” Hinata almost runs towards a bunny plushie that’s twice the size of her head. She grabs it with her little arms and gives it a hug.
Satoru and you reach the aisle, and out of habit, you check the price under the albino’s watchful eye. Your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when you see the amount, and you place a trembling hand on Hina’s shoulder. “Angel, I think it’s—”
“…Perfect,” Satoru finishes, his large hands taking the plushie from your daughter’s tight embrace to check the price tag with its shocking number. “Do you like it, little one?” he asks, looking down at her.
Hina nods energetically. “Yeah!”
“Then we’ll take it.” Satoru hands the plushie back to her and turns towards the checkout lane, already reaching into one of his pockets for what looks like… a wallet.
You react immediately, your hands finding their way around his arm. He doesn’t push you away at all and even smiles at the contact. “Gojo… No.”
“It’s Satoru to you, sweetheart,” he whispers gently. “And why not? It’s just a stuffed animal,” he scoffs. He takes Hinata’s hand so she can place the plushie on the conveyor belt.
“No, it’s not nothing to me,” you persist through clenched teeth, embarrassed that the cashier might be paying attention to your conversation.
Satoru shrugs. The cashier scans the plushie, and he uses contactless payment to pay for it. With your hands still around his arm, he places one of his on top, an intimate closeness.
“I could get used to this,” he murmurs near your ear, making you turn beet red. But he can’t continue as your daughter clings to Satoru’s leg like a koala, showering him with a thousand thank-yous for the gift. “You’re welcome, little one.” His hand gently ruffles her hair. He grins, now turning back to you. “It’s on me. You don’t owe me anything.”
Your discreet protests, so Hinata doesn’t suspect anything, come to an end when he drops both of you off in front of your home. Hinata commented that Satoru’s car looked like the one from the movie Barbie: Princess Charm School she had seen recently. He unlocks the doors as you get out of the car. Satoru’s hand catches yours, slipping a piece of cardstock into it. His contact details are on it.
“Just in case,” he mouths silently.
Nevertheless, you slip the business card into your pocket and respond just before closing the door, “I accept.”
°°°°
“And no funny business, okay? Never run in the hallways, if he tells you to wait, don’t move an inch, and—” You stop yourself as you notice your daughter is more interested in admiring the elegant decorations of the office hallways with wide, doe-like eyes and an adorable, slightly open mouth.
To your great misfortune, Hinata’s preschool is on strike for a while — which means almost all the teachers are absent. So how do you take care of your daughter when you can’t afford to miss work? By bringing her to your fake boyfriend’s office, of course! You quickly make your way toward Satoru’s office, Hinata following with her hand in yours. But just as you raise your fist to knock on his door, two large hands land on your shoulders, nearly scaring the life out of you.
“Hey, hey!” You whip around abruptly, a new mask on your face — just as the plan intended.
“Satoru…” you grit through your teeth. Hinata looks up at him and grins. You sigh.
“What do I owe the pleasure of all this lovely company?” Satoru asks, not taking his eyes off yours while giving Hinata a high-five.
As usual, he’s dressed in a luxurious suit — probably worth the rent of the apartment you live in — his slightly tousled albino hair and the familiar scent of cologne filling your nostrils. You catch yourself staring a little too long, and mentally kick yourself when his curious gaze turns mischievous.
He just realized you were checking him out, damn it!
“Hinata’s school is on strike. I need you to watch her for the day, if that’s not a problem, and since you seemed so insistent on returning the favor I’m doing for you…” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. “I see you’re spending your day roaming the offices rather than staying in yours…”
“No problem at all,” Satoru replies automatically, a pleased smile on his lips. “Ready to go to the CEO’s office?” He picks up Hina, who giggles and clings to him like a koala.
It’s your turn to smile in relief. “Thank you so much. I have a meeting with your father in an hour, and I’ll come get her at noon and again at the end of the day.” The sight of the two of them close together makes your heart melt — and for once, you don’t blame yourself for seeing Hinata happy to be with someone else.
°°°°
5:00 PM.
You’ve sent a message to Satoru asking where he was, since knocking on his perpetually empty office seems to be pointless. The meeting with the other company members about organizing the launch of a new product was particularly painful, but one thing is certain: the general manager didn’t recognize you with your more subdued hairstyle and the mask plastered on your face.
“Come to the parking lot like last time.”
And that’s the last message from Satoru (you gave him your number during lunch).
In the empty parking lot, only Satoru’s car is present, and you cast a curious glance through the windows. The two troublemakers give you a grimace — tongues sticking out and faces scrunched up. You sigh as the passenger door opens automatically.
“Satoru, you don’t have to—”
“Hina said yes and that she wants to come to my place,” Satoru cuts in with a mocking expression.
Reluctantly, you get in, your heart pounding in your chest with all sorts of panicked thoughts. However, Satoru doesn’t seem to share your reservations and starts driving as soon as you’re settled.
“So, this means you’re coming to my place,” he says, hands on the wheel and a quick glance in the rearview mirror, “and I’m inviting you to dinner.”
“No—”
“Mom! Please, Satoru is being too nice.” Hinata complains. You glance back, and she looks at you with wounded, pleading puppy eyes, arms crossed over her chest.
You grumble, slumping back against your seat as they both cheer in victory.
“By the way, I’m stopping by your place so you can pack. We’re invited to a family wedding, and my father invited us.”
“WHAT?”
°°°°
You place a box with your gift on the designated table for presents, and an arm wraps around your waist. “You look stunning,” Satoru murmurs against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, which breaks out in goosebumps.
With a flushed face, you turn your head. “Satoru…”
“What? Just because we’re pretending to be a couple and barely know each other doesn’t mean I can’t speak the truth.” He pauses. “Well, actually, we do know each other a bit, don’t we? We’ve had dinner together.” He chuckles at your half-grimacing, half-deadpan expression, pulling you closer as music fills the wedding reception hall.
You turn your head along with him toward the back of the room, where the bride’s bouquet is about to be thrown. A tight smile curves your lips — this is one thing you’ve dreamed of. Dreams have always been just that — dreams in your life, and even when love comes knocking at your door, it’s only passing through, just like your situation with Satoru.
His father didn’t notice anything, and since Satoru lives alone in a villa, it’s hard to say no when he offered for you to stay with him until he’s settled, with your own room and a staff available 24/7. He even had a tailor make a custom dress for the wedding you were both invited to. Hinata is looked after by a lovely nurse, and you’re enjoying a life you’ve always dreamed of. So why not make the most of it despite your past?
A Satoru who’s too comfortable with you isn’t so bothersome given the time you’ve spent together lately — both at the office, acting as a couple in front of certain people, and sometimes showing affection to each other to appear believable, even though they haven’t asked for kisses yet, so—
A fluffy and soft object lands right in the middle of your face and falls into your arms. You search for what seems to be a petal in your mouth and suck in your breath at what you realize it is.
The bride’s bouquet.
A gulp forces its way down your throat as the whole room applauds because… you’ve been hit in the face with the bouquet? Not to mention the lamentations of other female cousins who had jumped with all their hopes to catch it… But why you, who hadn’t asked for anything?
“Sweetheart?” Satoru mutters, his chest still pressed against your back. His tone is so sweet, nonchalant, as if you’ve been a couple for years. “My father is watching us, and I think he’s expecting me to do something.”
You swallow and nod, dreading what might happen next. Will your heart stop beating when Satoru says:
“May I kiss you?”
Never, ever, has anyone asked you that question. Not even your ex.
So, with a nervous nod, you allow him to capture your lips in a soft, languid kiss. His tender lips taste like the cotton candy children eat at the fair. They cherish yours with every movement (which you can’t help but return in kind). Each press sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
When the kiss ends, Satoru places one last kiss on the corner of your lips and clears his throat. “This is the first time I’ve wanted to marry my girlfriend.” His warm breath ignites your body.
Has your heart exploded?
If not, why can’t you breathe?
“Awww… How adorable you are with your pretty girlfriend, Satoru!”
An elderly woman approaches you both, supported by her old cane, and you note her albino hair, similar to Satoru’s.
“My dear aunt…” Satoru smiles widely without breaking away from you.
“You make a lovely couple,” Aunt Gojo continues, giving you a wise look.
“Oh, thank you.” You immediately bow and introduce yourself. Satoru’s hands squeeze your waist, and he chuckles at your manners.
“Take good care of her, you idiot,” the aunt finishes before drifting away, a tap of her cane on Satoru’s head making him sigh and rub his sore skull.
“Well, at least we look convincing, right?” he adds.
“Yes…”
Of course, he said that because he saw his aunt before you! Don’t think he said it because he meant it or—
“By the way,” Satoru takes your hand in his and leads you to the center of the dance floor, “I meant what I said before my aunt interrupted us.”
And you’re at a loss on how to interpret his playful wink.
°°°°
“WOW! Hinata, you’re so rich!”
“Is this your dad’s castle?”
Hinata takes Satoru’s hand and faces her friends in his chic living room. “It’s my daddy’s!” She nods proudly and runs off with them toward the games and festivities organized for her birthday. The children run everywhere, scream, and burst into laughter throughout the room. The perfect atmosphere.
It’s exactly what you’ve always dreamed of giving Hina.
“You didn’t have to do this,” you murmur to Satoru, who, despite your comment, shakes his head joyfully.
“I’m glad she likes it,” he replies.
“I wasn’t talking about the party.”
He freezes and turns his head toward you. “Didn’t you tell me you’d never been married?” he dares to whisper, possibly afraid of hurting you.
“That’s true. My ex left after learning I was pregnant with Hinata.” You exhale the breath you’ve been holding, the weight of the secret finally lifted.
Maybe he won’t want to keep pretending to be your boyfriend after this…
“You can still tell me his name, you know, sweetheart?” Satoru moves closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist, as if it’s completely natural for him, but there’s a tension in his touch. “I can take care of him and—”
You shake your head to dispel the tiny bit of resentment that’s urging you to say yes. “It’s okay. Thanks for agreeing to pretend to be her father. I know it’s going to be a bit of a hassle for a while, but she cares a lot—”
“Nuh-uh.” He places a kiss on your cheek, then another on the side of your neck, causing you to shiver. “She’s already talked about it in my office.”
You open your eyes wide. “What…?”
“Hinata likes you much more than you think… You’ve suffered too much,” His other hand glides over your stomach, and his thumb traces affectionate circles on your waist.
“Thank you,” you breathe, leaning into his touch. And for a moment, the weight on your shoulders completely lifts. “We haven’t had the best birthdays recently, so I’m happy to see Hinata get what she wants.” Your eyes rest on your daughter, dressed as a fairy, waving her glittery wand at one of her friends dressed as a witch. “So, thank you for everything.”
“No need to thank me, sweetheart. But which birthday are you talking about? Yours? When was it?”
Embarrassed, your mouth feels dry. “...A while ago.”
Satoru pulls you tightly against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you, his nose buried in your hair. “You’re such a strong woman… I can take care of you if you want. You and Hina will live like princesses, and if you want to sleep with her or have your own room, that’s no problem for me.”
“What? No, Satoru, you’re joking…”
“I’m not joking,” he insists, his gaze diving into yours — and for a second, sincerity fills his cerulean eyes.
With your mouth slightly open, you whisper, “We barely know each other, and—”
“Mama! Papa! We need to break the piñata!” Hinata rushes over to you, not paying any attention to how close you are to Satoru, and grabs each of your hands.
“Yes, angel, we’re coming,” you respond to your daughter with a weary smile, before glancing at Satoru, who is no longer looking in your direction.
Why are his ears so red?
°°°°
You place the last birthday decoration box in a corner of the living room as Satoru asked and straighten up with a grimace from your aching back. “Geez…”
The upper floor of the huge house is strangely quiet, and you furrow your brows. Could they have gone downstairs?
“Hinata? Satoru?” you call out as you walk through the hallways.
The evening darkness makes it hard to see clearly, and only the faint beam of light escaping from the kitchen door guides you.
“Are you there?” you ask, gently pushing the door open, and what you find leaves you stunned.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” the two of them exclaim, holding an enormous cake between them.
A few candles illuminate the underside of their beaming faces, party hats perched on their heads. The kitchen is a huge mess, counters covered in flour and frosting, and dishes overflow from the sink, threatening to topple over.
You stand speechless as they continue to sing your birthday song. Your nostrils and eyes start to itch strangely. Why is your vision suddenly blurring? It looks like transparent waves just above your lower lashes, threatening to overflow if you dare to blink. Yet, you can’t escape it.
Not when they set the cake on the table and pull you into a hug while your nose runs, tears roll down your cheeks, and your choked-up throat is on the verge of bursting into sobs. Satoru keeps kissing your hair, never stopping for a second to comfort you with sweet and reassuring words, his hand drawing circles on your back. Hinata wipes your tears while her own roll down her little cheeks.
Seeing you cry has always been contagious for her.
The moment gives you a glimpse of what your life would be like if you had a complete family, and Satoru’s words echo in your mind. How could he be so perfect in just a few weeks of knowing him?
Once the emotion passes, a few minutes later, you eat your birthday cake with laughter and cheer, accompanied not just by the one person who now means everything to you, but by both.
°°°°
“Watch out, Hina. You have applesauce on your chin,” Satoru chuckles, his hand grabbing a napkin to wipe the excess food around the child’s mouth.
The heartwarming scene makes your heart swell. You definitely don’t regret going out with Satoru and Hinata to have a meal at a chic terrace in their company. The family atmosphere finally gives you a glimpse of the life you’ve always hoped to live. Hinata growing up with a loving father and mother, and you, loved and supported by an ideal partner. Why not reconsider Satoru’s proposal, then? He’s the first man to think of you, even after your birthday had passed some time ago.
“I’m going to the restroom,” you murmur to Satoru, who nods in response, a wry smile curling his pink lips.
But why did it have to be on this day that a man finally approaches the two people you care about just as you slip away? He clearly waited from afar for you to let your guard down around your daughter so he could show up right in the middle of the table, facing a little girl — his daughter, technically — next to a man who isn’t her father.
Satoru slowly raises his head toward him, brows furrowed and wary. “Can I help you?”
Your ex says your name. “Where is she?” he mimics asking as if he didn’t know.
“What do you want with her?”
“To talk to her. I have the right. And you’re with my daughter, just so you know.” He crosses his arms over his chest, trying to appear threatening, but Satoru remains stoic, more contemptuous than anything else in the face of such a scruffy, unshaven nuisance.
“She’s not here; you can leave,” Satoru responds. And out of protective instinct, he pulls Hinata’s chair closer to him, his eyes narrowed. Satoru understands perfectly that your ex is back to claim his rights over his daughter, just as he’s been harassing you with messages about it.
“Excuse me? When my daughter is in the arms of a stranger? I could call the police immediately and we’ll sort this out very quickly,” your ex retorts sharply. He takes a step toward a lost Hinata, her big doe eyes blinking innocently between the two men. Of course, she doesn’t recognize him.
An altercation begins between the two, which naturally attracts the attention of other diners around. And you walk into the middle of the scene, frozen in shock at the sight of your ex hurling threats at Satoru.
“She’s taking my daughter, so I’m taking her back! And it’s not a bastard like you who’s going to help her regain my rights!” your ex spits with venom. His icy eyes find yours, terrified, your hands trembling and your complexion as pale as a sheet. He’s about to address you with the same angry speech, his face flushed with rage and a vein ready to burst at his temple.
Do you get déjà vu?
“‘Your daughter’?” Satoru repeats with a deadly gaze and a jaw quivering with rage. “She’s been sitting next to me for over an hour, I’ve been feeding her for over an hour, she’s been calling me by my name for over an hour, and you’re talking about ‘your daughter’? At this point, whose daughter is she... yours or mine?”
Your ex, publicly humiliated, opens his eyes wide with hatred. “You little son of—”
“Sir, we ask that you leave the terrace; you’re disturbing our customers,” a security guard declares firmly. He’s accompanied by another colleague, and when your ex protests, they grab him by the arm and escort him away amidst his shouting and the murmurs of other customers who keep staring at the three of you.
You move closer to Satoru, who immediately stands up upon seeing you — having not realized you were there — and can only offer you an apologetic look. “Let’s go,” you silently mouth (your throat too tight to dare let a sound escape, fearing it might break before you say anything), taking the hand of a silent and lost Hinata. “I’ll pay the bill and—”
“It’s already taken care of; we can go,” Satoru gently interrupts, following you to his car.
And it’s on the silent drive back that you realize something.
You’ve officially fallen in love with Satoru Gojo.
°°°°
“Look, Mom, Dad and I made a drawing for you!” Hinata proudly holds up a colorful picture with three easily recognizable characters on it.
“Did you brush your teeth?” you ask as you take the drawing to admire it, just as much smiling as your daughter. She nods and then does a little twirl to show off her new pajamas that Satoru gave her earlier in the day. “It’s beautiful. You’re so talented,” you chuckle, leaning in to plant a kiss on her cheek.
Satoru appears in the doorway of Hinata’s room, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest, a perpetual playful smile curving his lips. “Ready to go to sleep?”
“Yes, and I showed our drawing to mama,” Hinata asserts, bouncing on her bed.
“Oh yeah? Did mama like it?” Satoru asks softly, his eyes now locked with yours.
“Mama loved it and thanks Daddy,” you whisper, your voice quivering with emotion that threatens to spill over.
Half an hour later, Satoru and you find yourselves in the hallway with a sleeping Hinata and her little lullaby snores.
Satoru wraps his arm around your waist as usual and buries his face in your neck. Your heart is already racing, and your breath catches when he says, “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” The embrace is a simple hug but with unspoken words easily guessed.
“For everything.” Satoru sighs, and for a split second, you hope he’ll let you speak, but no. “I didn’t mean to make a scene and—”
“And you think I’m going to blame you for protecting us? That I wasn’t touched by what you said about Hina?” you mumble near his ear. The closeness gives you another chance to see his ears turn red. “Is Satoru shy?” you giggle, open to teasing. He hums, hiding his face so you don’t see his expression.
“I love you.”
You blink, because you must have heard wrong. “Huh?”
“Marry me.” And he’s already on his knees before you, eyes pleading. That usually confident cerulean blue is now so submissive, so close at hand… But the sudden turn of events leaves you stunned. “I want to be your husband, not just have you as my wife. I want to raise Hina with you and give you everything you need.” Not letting himself be distracted by your stunned expression, he continues, “Want my money? I’ll give it to you. My house? It will be in your name. Want my body? It belongs to you. My heart? It’s already yours.” And he starts kissing the backs of your hands desperately. “I love you, I love you… Please, marry me…”
“Satoru… You—” you stammer, backing away, your brow furrowed. Everything is a jumble in your head, both from his touching declaration but also because it’s all moving too fast for you. “You… love me?” you manage to whisper.
He crawls to you and wraps his large arms around your thighs, almost choking with desperation. “I fell in love with you as soon as I saw you, as soon as you covered me from my father, as soon as I heard your laugh, saw the amazing mother you are, and realized I never wanted you to leave this house.” He whispers your name like a divine invocation. “I’ve fallen in love with you more than just once.”
You don’t immediately respond, and that’s okay in his eyes. He doesn’t want to pressure you, just for you to know the truth and for him to be completely transparent with you.
“It’s okay if you don’t share my feelings; I just want you to know that—” But he’s cut off by your rush toward him on the floor as you press your lips to his, pulling him into the dance of your lips that one gives to the other in a long, passionate kiss. “God… I love you so much…”
“I love you too, Satoru,” you murmur against his mouth between kisses that turn into moans as he slides his warm, wet tongue between your lips to request access to your mouth.
Both of your breaths become ragged and heavy. Satoru takes the opportunity to lift you by the underside of your thighs and lead you to his bedroom, carefully closing the door behind him without breaking the contact of your swollen, desirous lips. He gently lays you on the king-size bed with silver satin and frost-blue sheets.
With a tenderness of loving slowness, Satoru breaks the kiss. “Do you want to continue?” he asks, his voice husky. You nod timidly, but he shakes his head with his mischievous smile — finally back. “Nuh-uh. Your words, sweetheart.”
“I want it, Satoru,” you reply after a sigh of exasperation so adorable in his eyes that it makes him laugh, then he places a light kiss on the corner of your lips.
“Alright… Gonna take care of my beautiful girl, the best, the most wonderful mother, and maybe future wife—” He places a finger on your lips. “Oh no, you’ll answer that later if you want, when I have something concrete for that occasion.”
You sigh in frustration because the answer is already on the tip of your tongue, but it soon turns into a moan as he kisses the side of your neck with such deliberate slowness that you really wonder if he’s going to tease you to the limit. His hands roam over your clothed chest, exploring your already hardened nipples. His lips find their way to your collarbone, marking it with love bites and hickeys that elicit muffled moans from you.
“If you knew how long I’ve dreamed of doing this…” Satoru comments with a touch of affection, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons of your shirt. “Exactly how I would act with my wife—”
“And your father?” And he chuckles again.
“We don’t care about him.” He casually tosses your top aside to tease your sensitive, erect nipples through the fabric with his thumbs. “Such humble underwear… Would you like me to buy you something more daring?” he purrs, pulling on a strap to snap it against your gooseflesh-covered skin.
“Would you do that?” You bring your lips to his, and he immediately responds to the kiss. You also remove his black turtleneck sweater to reveal his toned, muscular torso. An adventurous hand glides over his chest, making him groan slightly, and then stops at his lower abdomen where a vein runs lower down. You place a kiss there with a small, sly smile.
For the first time, you’re about to make love with someone.
“Hmm? Satoru? Have you ever thought of me in outfits like this?” Your nimble fingers unbutton his pants, revealing a prominent bulge in his fly.
“Sweetheart, don’t—” he hisses between his teeth from the sensation of the slight friction between his erection and your eager fingers as they pull down his pants to caress and rub his dick through the thin fabric of his boxer. “Your hands feel so good…” He breathes softly, his hands stroking your bare arms with a feather-light touch.
“Answer my question…” you purr, your nails pulling at the underwear to free his hard, twitching cock. The tip is perfectly reddened, with veins coursing along its pale length of 8 inches. Almost automatically, your mouth waters, and you waste no time kissing the slit of his already glistening tip with pre.
“Babe, don’t tease…” Satoru closes his eyes and lets your hand wrap around his length, begging to be touched. “F-fuck— Yes, yes, I’ve thought about it, about buying you the most expensive and luxurious lingerie— ah!” he almost whimpers. You take a little over 2 inches of him into your mouth to stroke the base. “But also in those maternity clothes— oh god… C-can you really blame me?” He rolls his eyes and can’t help but buck his hips toward you, his body pleading for your mouth to take care of him.
You withdraw his cock from your mouth to whisper, “So you’re a naughty boy, hmm?”
“I won’t last if you keep this up— hgnn…” he whimpers completely, his dick splitting your mouth in two as you take him all in. Your head starts to bob back and forth, and he is so close that he spills moans of your name. “G’nna cum, baby, don’t—”
You hollow your cheeks, and the next moment, he cums in your mouth, long, thick ropes of his release filling your already full mouth with his shaft. You hum under his orgasm and swallow slowly. You slide his dick out of your mouth with the same rhythm to smile at a Satoru with ears as red as his cheeks.
“F-fuck, sweetheart,” he pants, his calloused finger wiping away the mixed cord of your saliva and his cum with a swipe of his thumb.
“M-hmm… You taste so sweet…” He doesn’t let you continue and crushes his lips against yours, tasting himself on your mouth. “I want you, Satoru…”
“I’m yours, princess.” He helps you quickly remove your remaining underwear so that you’re completely naked in front of him, knees resting on the expensive mattress. He kneels at the foot of the bed, and his fingers explore your sensitive, already dripping cunt.
“So wet for me… Did I do this to you just with my cock?” His fingers spread your swollen folds to gather your fluids and rub your throbbing, needy clit.
Your nails dig into his arm as you lift your hips under the sharp pleasure. “Satoru, it feels good…” you gasp in a whimper. His forefinger and middle finger spread your wetness all around your intimacy. “Please don’t tease…”
“Not tease? Weren’t you doing it, sweetheart? What a nerve,” Satoru scoffs, tapping his finger at your entrance. “Can I?”
“Please…” You wince as you move your hips down for more. And that’s exactly what he does, immediately inserting his finger into you, cursing.
“You’re so fucking tight… and so wet,” he curses, his finger moving in and out of you with careful softness. “I can already fuck you without making you cum first.” He stops finger-fucking you and looks up at you. “Is that what you want, love?”
You nod before arching your back on the bed. Satoru climbs onto the mattress and helps you wrap your legs around him. “That’s it…” He takes his length in his hand and teases your responsive cunt with the tip to get it wetter.
“Don’t tease, Toru, I swear…” And he smirks.
“Toru?”
“Sorry, I—”
His tip presses against your tight, pulsing entrance, and he grins. “I want you to moan that nickname while I fuck you, ’kay?” He grips your hips to pull you closer to him, and with one swift movement, he slides into you, a groan escaping from behind his lips as your deliciously tight, warm, gummy walls wrap around him as if you were meant for him.
The stretch causes a slight discomfort at first, and you almost cry in relief when Satoru notices. He patiently waits for you to adjust before starting a slow, deep rhythm inside you.
You widen your lustful eyes, tears forming at their corners. “Ah! Toru… Jus’ like that…” Your eyes roll back as the tip of Satoru’s dick hits the back of your cervix, making you shiver and tighten around him. “Fuck… s’deep…”
“So fucking perfect, so fucking mine,” Satoru groans, his hips rocking into you without ceasing to swell between your gummy walls. His chest rises and falls in a breath as ragged as yours, asking for more every time you moan for him to go deeper. (He discreetly rolls his eyes and babbles incomprehensible words — completely pussy drunk.)
And that’s exactly what he does. He slams back in brutally, making you cry out his name with each thrust. “Shhh… You don’t want Hina to hear us, right? So keep quiet, baby…” He helps stifle your gasps and moans of pleasure by capturing your lips with his, alternating between fast, rough thrusts and slow, gentle ones in your hole that he fucks shamelessly.
Blood rushes to your ears, a rare sensation you haven’t truly felt the last time you were with someone. It wasn’t just about carnal pleasure between Satoru and you — but about love. The fusion of bodies loving each other and providing mutual pleasure, even as they burn for each other— physically and emotionally.
One of Satoru’s hands slowly slides to one of your breasts and teases a sensitive nipple. The arch in your back encourages him to detach his mouth from yours to capture the other nipple with his wet lips. The growl he lets out sends a wave of intense shivers through you, making your eyes roll in overstimulation.
“P-please, Toru, please, I’m already close,” you whimper against your trembling palm — a feeble attempt to contain your sweet sounds as he speeds up his hip movements in your sloppy cunt — the sound of his balls slapping your skin filling the room. Your words are punctuated by the tightening of your walls around him, swearing he could cum inside you just from hearing you beg.
“Cum on my cock, baby, cover it,” he coos, giving another kiss to your abused chest. The clenching of your jaw with your teeth dug into your lower lip forces you to groan. “Want me to fill you up?” And you nod, tears showing your imminent orgasm. “Anything for you, my beautiful girl.” His hips slam against yours, and his fingers continue to tease your breast, rubbing your puffy clit.
Satoru’s own breath becomes heavier, more labored as he keeps singing praises while you gasp, his lips pressed along the line of kisses he’s placing down your jaw. “T-Toru, Toru, cumming!” you cry out as your walls spasm around his cock while he reaches his peak and fills you with his hot, liquid release, warming your lower abdomen. You see blinding stars illuminating your vision.
He hisses almost gutturally, his nails digging into the flesh of your hips. “Oh god… S-Squeezing me while I’m cumming too…” He closes his eyes for a moment, letting his peak subside at the same rhythm as yours, his forehead damp with sweat resting against your chest. 
Only pants and groans escape your lips, each one accompanied by difficult swallows and the feeling of your sweaty bodies pressed against each other.
“How was it? Did I make you feel good?” Satoru asks immediately, once his breath has returned.
The concerned questions touch your heart so deeply that you lift tearful eyes to him. “Are you going to leave, after this?”
His expression falters, and he gently withdraws from you to envelop you in his embrace. “No, baby, of course not… I won’t, I swear on my life I won’t leave you… I’m not him. I’m the one who hopes you won’t leave…” he whispers hurriedly. “Don’t think about that. I’ll always be here, for you and for Hina…”
You sniffle, your eyes red. But Satoru smiles tenderly, wiping away your hot tears. “Save your tears for later, sweetheart.”
“Why?” You clear your throat.
He sighs, the aftermath of the effort from the activity settling on him, and places a chaste kiss on your sweaty temple. “Did I tell you that my father invited us to dinner tomorrow night?”
“No,” you shake your head, “but what’s the link?”
“Don’t you understand?” he murmurs in your ear, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll understand in time.”
°°°°
“I see. So it was an unexpected encounter.” Gojo’s father nods, shrugging his shoulders. “But I wonder how a woman like you can have feelings for such a fool…”
Satoru chokes on a piece of meat he’s chewing and takes a sip of his water. You stifle a giggle, with some steamed vegetables speared on your fork, just waiting for you to devour them. For a man who appears so stern and strict, Mr. Gojo is quite a wealthy man who spends his days reprimanding his son for not doing this or that.
Yet, there’s a certain paternal camaraderie between them — a father-son relationship, if you will.
“That’s not true,” Satoru retorts, his voice still gravelly. He has an adorable pout on his lips, like a child wrongly scolded.
“Yes, like you’re not a womanizer,” his father retorts, rolling his eyes.
“It was so you’d leave me alone,” with furrowed brows, he wears a mischievous smile at his father’s incredulous expression, “but sweetheart came into my life,” he continues, looking at you with a tenderness he has rarely shown.
“I hope you manage to put up with him until… well, until you decide to marry — if that’s what you choose,” his father sighs, turning his attention back to the dish in front of him.
“Satoru isn’t a bad person, you know,” you start gently. “He is certainly a thoughtless brat with grotesque immaturity,” Satoru almost spits out his water this time, and you continue with a wry smile, “but he has a great sense of attention and unmatched generosity. I believe he will be a good husband, I assure you.”
“I must admit,” he says with a wise smile, his wrinkles less pronounced.
Satoru casually says your name, “Yeah, yeah… By the way, could you pass me the salt, please?”
You freeze, while Satoru’s father suddenly looks up with an incredulous expression. “Who?”
And you smack your forehead with the palm of your hand.
°°°°
The cries of a newborn fill the room as, breathless and on the verge of fainting, the midwives congratulate you, bringing your second child wrapped in clean blankets at your request.
“He’s beautiful…” Satoru murmurs as he approaches you, leaning down to the tiny baby with his albino hair and blue eyes — his exact likeness. “Thank you, my love, thank you, thank you, thank you…” His voice breaks as you raise a weak, exhausted hand toward him, but with a serene smile on your lips as you whisper how much you love each other.
He immediately wraps his fingers around yours, your wedding rings sparkling as they brush together like stars sealed for eternity.
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✧ a/n: how i love desperate men, hihi! 🤭 hope you all enjoyed this one-shot!
✧ tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobees @drippymcdrippison
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seonghwaddict · 6 months
Text
save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi
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in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.
best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!
listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis
masterlist.
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it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.
you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.
“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”
based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.
“can i admit something?”
he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.
you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.
“i’ve never done that before.”
his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”
“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”
“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”
furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.
“i can… teach you, if you want?”
you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.
“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”
he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”
you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.
you could already hear him giggling at the sight.
groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.
deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.
the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.
“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.
once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.
“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”
you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”
“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.
“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”
“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”
you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.
“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”
“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”
“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.
you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.
“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”
“r-really?”
mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.
“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”
you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.
“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”
“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”
his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.
he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.
you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.
all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.
“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.
eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.
with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.
“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”
he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.
he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.
“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.
after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.
“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”
he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.
he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”
you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.
it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.
he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.
“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”
you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.
he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.
the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.
when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.
when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.
“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”
he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.
he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.
the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.
the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.
“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”
you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.
you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.
your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.
still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.
your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.
his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.
you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.
your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.
“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”
his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.
the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”
you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.
it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.
after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.
“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”
“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.
this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.
“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
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sweetnans · 4 months
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Bakugo likes to pretend that he's not that into you. Well, that's only when you two have seen each other like what? two times? Because once he becomes a boyfriend, he's all in, go big or go home, and he obviously likes to go big.
But that's not the case. Yet.
You two met in a convention. You've heard from him a thousand times because being the number one hero doesn't go unnoticed. Bakugo introduced himself to you forced by his friends because they thought you were cute and completely his type, Kaminari pushed him to you and Bakugo never thought that after that bold act of his friend, he would be so grateful.
The second time you shared space and air with Dynamight was in a fight. A super wanted villain appeared on your quadrant and he went as a back-up (he knew that was your quadrant) his friend teased him all day and all week because he literally crossed the city to see you. He scolded them, but deep down (unconsciously) knew he was balls deep (not literally) into you.
Staring at his room ceiling he couldn't believe how whipped he was, he denied the feeling everytime he started to think of you. He had only seen you twice and now your pretty face won't come out of his head.
The sound of his phone's notification echoed in his room and he was quick to snatch the phone from his bedside table.
Hey Dynamight look at the cool pictures the press took of us. 😎
It was you. How did you even get his number?
He opened your photo before opening the one you sent him. You were holding a kitty and smiling like it was the best thing that ever happened to you. You were wearing a yellow sundress, and the landscape was full of beautiful flowers. You looked so gorgeous he thought he would die.
Sorry if I bothered you. I know you're sort of a snob, and I wanted to make sure that you saw the photos 🤡
Bakugo was so surprised about your interaction that he completely ignored the snob part.
He needed to reply asap. He didn't want you to believe that you were bothering him.
Great photos. I don't mind you talking to me.
He deleted and wrote it a thousand times before send it and that was the best he came up to.
You laughed in your place. His friend have told you how he acted and now you were just checking it for yourself.
I just need to get this out of my chest before I faint and then I'll leave you alone 🙂‍↕️ I just have to tell you that you look incredibly massive in those photos 😳 you got me feeling some type of way 👩‍🦯
The blood in his system rose to his cheeks and he suddenly felt extremely hot. You were something else.
After that text he was speechless. He needed to clear his mind before sending something that would lead you to never speak to him again or worse never want to see him again.
He cursed himself because he was trying so hard to pretend you didn't turn his world upside down after seeing you only two times, but now, after those texts, he was absolutely sure he was completely head over heels.
Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.
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mymadmedleyw · 1 year
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sad day today
not for any particular reason, just sad overall
I think I am still processing the things mentally
it feels odd that the feeling doesn't seem to leave me, instead it is stuck in me and clenches
I think this will be my company from now in the coming few weeks until the procedure happens
...or even longer, knowing the risks and recurring
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sourvers · 3 months
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WHEN YOU'RE PRICE'S BELOVED WIFE who exudes class and the fine mist of confidence through the click of your leather boots, the gentle swish of your trench coat and the glimmer in your earings. When you walk into base for the first time- delivering your husbands forgotten paperwork from your office- of course the boys can't help but soak up your velvety voice and candid laugh like the tint of red wine on your pretty lips. No wonder Price said, “My wife is beautiful.”
WHEN YOU'RE PRICE'S BLUNT WIFE who wants nothing more but to ensure a breathing Price walks through you're house doors. Which means you want the 'boys' to be safe too! You chide them firmly, crossing your arms over your chest, your voice that of a captain giving orders or a mother you can't refuse. Price can't help but stifle a laugh; attempting to nod his head while you point your fingers at towering men who could crush you with a flick of their finger. Yet, the three of them remain paralyzed. You shoot a glare at Price. Best not anger the missus...
WHEN YOU'RE PRICE'S HARD WORKING WIFE who stands firm in your opinions and speaks cut, clear and concise. When the boys find out you're a university professor: an academic of considerable standard, their not entirely shaken. They learn how hard you fucking worked for your position. While their out in the fields, you're teaching the next generation; plunging yourself into the heart of ignorance and rooting it out, lifting it up to the heat of the sun, watching it melt in palm of your tender hands. Price says its a relief you're so strong, just in case things go south.
WHEN YOU'RE PRICE'S KINDHEARTED WIFE who has the imagination of child and the freedom of a bird. You lift kids up in the air, make snow angels, bake cookies at 12 in the morning and laugh until the rest of the world can hear you. While your face may be riddled with acute angles and sharp turns- the curve of your smile shines like a star. You invited them over to your place for a night, cooking Price's favourite for all to share. That was when they saw you, really saw how much love was swelling in your big heart as you danced and sang with no care; pressing a kiss on Price’s cheek with each new song.
WHEN YOU'RE PRICE'S SECRETLY SAD WIFE who wishes life didn't have to be this way. Who wishes you didn't have to be so 'strong' all the time. Who questions if you were even strong from the start. Who desperately desires a stable life as the years go by— maybe your own kids in your arms and not your coworkers. You didn't think Soap would hear you that night in the backyard, crouched down drying your tears while muttering words he couldn't understand except the single phrase, “I wish my husband wasn’t a fucking captain.”
WHEN YOU’RE PRICE’S LONELY WIFE who thinks it’s best if you stopped visiting him at work— “I think I’m distracting you love.” Inviting the boys for dinner— “I’m afraid I’m busy as of late.” Or even talking to Laswell— “Best not disturb her!” Because the void of your home feels even deeper now despite all the years.
YOU’RE PRICE’S WIFE. You wake up and trace girlish hearts over your husband’s face— muscle memory. He pretends to sleep. You giggle. He brings you closer to his chest. You close your eyes and burry yourself in the tenderness of his heart: fighting the dread at the back of your mind. He whispers to you through a smile, “I can’t believe you’re my wife you know?”
Your lips form a tight smile, “Me too.”
cod masterlist. / similar posts
⤷ it honestly wasn’t meant to be this angsty. oh well. reblog and comments are highly appreciated!
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o-sachi · 3 months
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My Golden Girl ‧₊˚ ⋅ One Shot (Request)
ଳ Kaiser loves his generous golden girl, but he hates it when people take advantage of her kindness
ଳ character; michael kaiser (bllk)
ଳ tags; afab reader, no y/n, FLOOF, soft mihya
[🐟]: This takes place before the Blue Lock project, so Kaiser should still be in Germany and practicing with Bastard.
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The moon can only shine at night because of the sun.
That's what your relationship is like with Kaiser.
He honestly had no idea where he'd be without you. There were days when he felt like he was slowly losing himself—drowning in the pressure to remain at the top. But as he teeters on the edge, you always come to pull him right back in.
Your sweet words at the end of his day were enough to keep him grounded. As a matter of fact, you barely needed to do much to pacify him. But knowing you—you would go over and beyond for him. Seriously. It puzzles him why someone as pure as you would mess around with someone like him.
But who was he to question you?
"Yo, your girlfriend's been here for like an hour. Have you even seen her already?" Kaiser snaps out of his daydream as the locker room door swings open. It was some guy from his team who he never really bothered to remember the name of. His gaze follows his teammate as he saunters over to his locker.
"Eh... but she's out helping the managers again." That's when his attention was truly caught. "She's what?" "Y'know... handing out bottles and stuff. You should ask her to become a manager too. She'll fit right in." Tsk.
Kaiser shakes his head and grabs the towel off of his head. He aimlessly chucks the piece of fabric to the side and gets up without another word.
His teammate watches—dumbfounded—at the lack of a response. "Hey, Kai-"
But as soon as he spoke, Kaiser was already out of the door.
He wasn't angry or annoyed that you showed up unannounced. Truthfully, he didn't know what he felt. There was a reason why he avoided bringing you or inviting you to his practices.
You were too kind for your own good and the people here aren't shy about taking advantage of you.
Kaiser was stuck between a rock and hard place. One on hand, he loved that you cared enough about him to go out of your way even help the management or even his team. He couldn't bring himself to scold anyone—especially not you. On another, he knew what they were doing to you. They pretended to be all nice and sweet when asking you favors. But don't they have any shame asking so much from you?
Just like what Mr. Forgettable Name said earlier, you were almost like a manager here. But, fuck that. You're supposed to be a guest. You're his girlfriend, so you deserve nothing but the best treatment.
Yet, here he was—watching you as you scurry around, handing water bottles to his... not teammates. What the hell were you even doing giving water to the second string players? Jesus. He wasn't even sure if they were on the second string.
The more he observed, the angrier he became. Someone better hold him back and tell him what he just witnessed wasn't what he thought because one of the players definitely handed you an empty bottle—which, of course, you threw in the trash for him.
Sure, he's probably tired from running all day and yeah, you were closer to the trash bin. But who the fuck does he think he is to ask you of something like that?
He didn't even notice that his legs moved on their own. His body wanted nothing but to walk over to you. Never mind what his heart was telling him.
"Hey."
You spun around, knowing whose voice it was that almost startled you. His bright blue eyes peered down at you and he seemed... a bit pissed.
"Sorry... I know I should've told you that I was coming today, but-" Kaiser sighs heavily, running his tattooed hand through his blonde locks. "Don't apologize. I'm not mad—I just..."
But he was—he was most definitely mad. Just not at you.
It was like the world was testing the limits of his patience today because damn was he not even able to finish his sentence without another person bothering you.
As Kaiser struggled to express himself, one of the managers taps you on your shoulder. She had on the fake smile she always wore whenever she'd ask you a favor.
"Can you go distribute the lunch for the players today? I just have some paperwork to go over. You know how it is... managers get busy~"
Before you could even respond, Kaiser steps forward—putting distance between you and the manager. "And why would she do that? Isn't that your job?"
You grabbed his arm, telling him that it's alright. In a way, his team and the people who manage it have become your friends. You appreciate them for taking care of your boyfriend while you're not there and you're grateful for their warm greetings whenever you walk past any of them.
There wasn't any issue in you helping these people... or so you thought.
The manager smiles nervously at Kaiser, but she doesn't back down. "Well... I mean... if she's willing to do it, right? What's the harm in that?"
Kaiser exhales audibly. This is why he doesn't confront this dynamic. The manager was partially right because his girlfriend was always willing to help no matter what. Now he looked like the bad guy here.
The conversation shifted to an awkward atmosphere. All three of them felt it. But she was the first to break the ice... as usual.
"Mihya, it's alright. I like helping out the team. Consider it as me helping you as well," she says, smiling warmly.
"Baby," he clicks his tongue. "Forgive me, but... how the hell does it help me when you hand out water and food to these third stringers?"
Your eyes widen. "Mihya! Tone it down; they'll hear you."
He scoffs. "So what? Let them hear it."
At this point, the manager had grown quiet, slowly distancing herself from the developing quarrel.
"I've had enough watching people like her," he says, pointing at the manager before she could escape, "take advantage of you."
"It's not your job to hand out lunch boxes to everyone nor is it your responsibility to make sure they're hydrated. Baby—you might as well wipe their sweat for them while you're at it," he adds.
As he released these pent up frustrations, he failed to notice the gradual increase in the volume of his voice. It wasn't just you and the manager hearing it—but everyone else on the field. Even those who were far away, ran over to the commotion.
Kaiser never gave up even a second for you to butt in. "Remember that time they asked you to run to the nearby convenience store to buy God-knows-what? Or that time you had to go with... with... whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is to the hospital?"
"It's Igor," a faint voice reminds him.
"Shut the fuck up!" he retorts. Kaiser sighs deeply, the realization that everyone else was listening finally dawning on him. "What I'm trying to say is that... I'm just tired of seeing you be used like that, especially since I know how pure your heart is and all that," he says, softly.
He wanted the last part to be heard only by you. After all, you were the only one that mattered to him at the moment.
You were... well... staring at him in awe. Speechless. Unmoving. Stunned.
You were clueless to how he felt. Sure, they did ask too much of you. But you didn't think Kaiser was observing you to that degree. Your heart melted at his personal show of affection right in front of everyone.
"Mihya..."
You felt stupid that you could only mutter his name despite everything he had said. But before you could do anything else, his large hand grabs on to your wrist—pulling you along with him. His strides were purposeful and his grasp was firm. You hurriedly shuffled to keep up with his pace.
After gaining some distance from the group, Kaiser halts and turns to look back at them one last time.
"If I see any of you ask a favor from her again—I'll make sure to deal with you."
A promise and a threat.
He yanks you again and continues walking away. Overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events, you try to stop him despite his strength. "Hey... slow down. Let's talk... please?"
Kaiser blatantly ignores you, only stopping once you were inside of the facility and away from prying eyes. The firm grip that once wrapped around your wrist was replaced by a gentle caress as he brought your hand to his lips.
"Sorry... I got carried away. You know I can't let them do tha-"
"It's okay. I understand. Thank you for standing up for me," you say, cutting him off.
He blinks a couple of times, surprised at how well you took it. "You're not mad?"
"Why would I be mad at my boyfriend protecting me?"
You couldn't help but giggle at him. How silly would it be for you to get angry at him right now? What he did was one of the sweetest things anyone could do for someone; not everyone is brave enough to stand up for their significant other like that.
His look of astonishment was quickly replaced with a small smile. "I guess you're right, baby."
And before you know it, you were already caged in his warm embrace.
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ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ 。° ⚬ 。 likes and reblogs are appreciated
pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.
o-sachi © 2024
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writethrough · 9 months
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I Know Better
(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)
Synopsis: You've heard every rumor about Billy Hargrove—from the girls, the guys, the teachers, the parents—it never interested you all that much. Until one of those pesky rumors involved you.
Warnings: Language, slut-shaming
Word Count: 1396
A/N: This is the first stop on the apology tour for everyone who's sent me in a request. It's been a year for some of you, and I'm so sorry and grateful for your patience.
I had a really hard time starting this in the sense that I had so many ideas, but none of them fit with this prompt. So, it took me a while to settle on the story I wanted to tell. I had to stop thinking about this as a “Billy is mean to everyone” fic, and start considering it a “You are Billy’s soft spot” fic. It had to be a “How is he different because of you?” And then it sort of clicked.  
This is a sort of soft-launch to a larger something. I'm not sure if it will turn into a full multi-part fic or just spontaneous additions in this little fanfic universe.
And to the anon who requested this, Tumblr ate your request when I tried saving it to my drafts, so I really, really hope you come across it.
I hope you enjoy!
Anon Request: “Another Billy request idea is “he’s mean as fuck to everyone but me
"Like??? Maybe I need to go to therapy but the hard as stone exterior on that boy and the thought of him being sweet as pie to his girl makes me mush” 
Moodboard by @saradika
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Billy Hargrove never scared you. 
Not even in high school when all you heard about was his bark and bite and overall terrible attitude. 
You didn’t cross paths often, surprisingly so with how small Hawkins was, but sometimes you’d get glimpses of him against his locker or waiting by his car. 
You still remembered the time he pulled in beside you as you were shutting your door. 
Max had waved at you before rushing off to the middle school. Then, Billy had slowly risen, lighting a cigarette in the process, and locked eyes with you. 
He greeted you by name, a lazy smile spreading across his lips, and sauntered away. 
You had replayed that morning for the next two weeks, stunned that he knew your name let alone gave you the time of day. 
It was a month or two afterward when you actually witnessed Billy at his worst. 
You weren’t there for the start, but you had turned a corner in the halls and were met with other students gawking at a fight. 
You shoved your way between teenagers, intent to get to your class before the bell rang when that mullet stopped you. 
Billy had been looming over Roger, the school’s very own sleazy douchebag. 
In your mind, whatever that prick had said or done, he absolutely deserved the consequences Billy was doling out. 
You were about to continue walking when Billy leaned in closer to him with a tilt of his head. And until that point, you didn’t know that gesture could be so menacing. 
“Wanna say that again?” 
Your brows pulled in confusion. 
What could Roger have said that made Billy so furious? 
It must have been some insult, something that cut right to whatever insecurities Billy hid from the world. You really couldn’t imagine what he’d be self-conscious about. To you, Billy was the epitome of confidence. 
Billy’s eyes caught your shoes, and you swore his shoulders tensed. He trailed up your body and met your gaze, grinding his teeth. 
He slowly straightened, and without another word, stormed out of the building. 
Mrs. Click finally arrived and disbanded everyone and helped Roger to the nurse’s office. 
Your last class was full of whispered theories and passing notes. 
I heard he keyed Billy’s car. 
No, Billy definitely slept with the chick Roger was eyeing up. 
Could’ve sworn I heard Roger call some girl a slut-in-the-making. 
The day couldn’t have been over soon enough. 
At least it was the weekend, and in a month, you’d be graduating. 
You were walking to your car, sun in your eyes, and didn’t see Billy leaning against it until you were too close to pretend you forgot something to head back inside. 
“Hey,” he said, putting out his cigarette. 
“Hi,” you said slowly, gripping your backpack strap. 
“You okay?” His hands slipped in his pockets. 
Your furrowed your brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 
He chuckled. “Fair enough.” 
He pushed off your car and took a few steps toward you. 
It was really the first chance you had to take in how blue his eyes were. And while normally you’d look away as you held each other's gaze, something planted you where you stood. 
He had the barest of smirks, so slight that you’d dare call it a smile. 
“If I said I wasn’t alright, would you agree to hang out tomorrow?” he asked. 
You let out a surprised laugh and glanced down. This was the first conversation you’d ever had with Billy, and he was asking you out. 
This was probably how he operated. He’d set his sights on some girl, give them that eat-you-alive smirk, and you’d wake up alone Sunday morning without even a note saying “bye.” 
But even with all that, your curiosity won out. So you made a deal. 
“Tell me what that was all about, and I’ll be there.” 
There was a flash of anger, but you didn’t think it was toward you. Leftover feelings for whatever happened no doubt. Then, he softened in a way you had never seen before. 
“I’ll pick you up at six,” he said, beginning to walk away. He turned around before he could get too far. “Don’t bring a jacket.” 
“Why?” You couldn’t help your smile. 
“You’ll have mine.” 
The cocky grin would’ve been irritating with anyone else, but Billy’s was endearing. 
You drove home with a stupid smile plastered on your face, and you stayed that way until Billy rapped on your door. 
— 
That Saturday night, he tried to breeze past his altercation. Until you leveled him with a sincere look and said his name. 
He had leaned back in the booth, ripping his remaining fries in pieces to distract himself. 
“He pissed me off,” Billy said, still maintaining his gruffness. 
“I figured as much,” you said gently. You knew if he sensed anything else, you wouldn’t get any answers. 
He huffed, glancing at you before returning to his basket of food. 
“The prick said somethin’ he shouldn’t have.” He shrugged. “I told him as much.” 
You nodded slowly, narrowing your eyes in thought. Billy wasn’t know to beat around the bush. He said what he thought, and you kind of admired that about him. Even if that got him in trouble. But the way he wasn’t maintaining eye contact when that was his favorite way to throw someone off guard was suspicious. He was hiding something, of course, but it felt more than hiding something from you alone. 
You took a shot in the dark. 
“Are you…Are you not telling me what he said because it was about me?” 
His jaw clenched and hands stopped. 
So, that was it. Roger had said something nasty about you, and for whatever reason, Billy took it upon himself to…defend your honor? 
But why? 
And what could it have been to make Billy react like that? You hardly knew each other. 
You inhaled deeply. “Okay. Tell me what he said.” 
“You don’t need to hear his bullshit.” He met your gaze, steady and stern. You wanted to slap your chest to keep your heart from skipping. 
“Billy,” you started, “I promise whatever he said isn’t going to affect me. I just want to know why you had him on the ground.” 
At this point, you had dissociated from high school and the people in it. All that mattered was graduation. 
“What does it matter?” His tone came out more harsh than you anticipated, but the way his face pinched told you he didn’t mean for it to happen. 
You leaned on the table. “Because I’ve had a really nice time so far. And as much as I appreciate you standing up for me. If you wanna continue this,” you gestured between you both, “you can’t beat the shit outta people.” 
“You wanna go out again?” His eyebrows rose slightly, and your cheeks warmed. 
Of course, that was what he took away. 
“Billy,” you warned playfully. 
“Alright,” he sighed. “He caught me starin’ at you a few times. Said your legs were locked shut, but I could probably get them open.” 
You scrunched up your nose. You knew Roger had to have said something vulgar, but you were more surprised it was about you then the actual content. 
“Okay. Was that all?” Sure, it was gross, but that didn’t seem like something Billy would lose his shit over. 
“That happened last week,” he admitted. “Told him to shut the hell up, and I thought that was that.” He shifted in his seat. “Guess he saw you lookin’ at me and he started callin’ you names. And then I hit’im.” 
Names.  
You could hazard a guess what names he called you. Probably the same ones he called every other female who didn’t wanna sleep with him. Ones that would describe him more than you. 
You reached across the table and grabbed his wrist. 
“Thank you for telling me,” you said. “And I need you to know, I don’t give a single fuck what that dipshit thinks.” 
He chuckled, putting his hand on top of yours. 
“So, that mean a second date is in the books?” he asked. 
“Like I said, only if you don’t punch someone when they say something you don’t like,” you said, hoping your face conveyed how serious you were. 
He leaned his elbows on the table. 
“I was thinkin’ a movie for next time.” 
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Taglist: @bookshelf-dust, @steph-speaks, @nix-rose, @ballerina-orchid, @realmermaidariel
If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on. 
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nathaslosthershit · 22 days
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Coworkers?… Something like that (MV33)
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Summary: Working in media for a Formula 1 team, you had expected to be behind the scenes, unseen and unnoticed by fans. But catching the eye of one of the drivers and the very public flirting as a result has thrust you into the spotlight Part of my summer event! Warnings: A little suggestive hehe.
It was the perfect job for you. Part of the team you love, far from the spotlight. You were good at it too. Constantly complimented by your boss in meetings on how much engagement some of the content you came up with got. Even the two drivers, who were certainly not known for enjoying media making them do stupid games for the fans, had stopped complaining as much. One driver in particular seemed to really enjoy when you would work with him…
You’d never been a big fan of Max Verstappen. It wasn’t that you disliked him, he was extremely talented of course, and not too bad to look at, but as you had always rooted for the underdog, you couldn’t justify ever celebrating his many many wins. But as you got to know him, as he gave you the warmest of welcomes to the team, you changed your mind. 
You two had been keeping your budding relationship to yourselves. Despite how much you liked each other, until you both had figured out where the relationship was going, it didn’t seem wise to tell anyone, especially while you were just finishing your first year with Red Bull. Despite how much you helped improve the team’s social media presence, if something happened, if it came down to their world champion a few times over, or some girl in media who had only been there for a year…
Luckily, it did get more serious, very serious. After a long conversation, you both had come to the decision that you won’t say anything explicitly, as Red Bull didn’t have rules on dating coworkers that would warrant an official notice to HR, but you wouldn’t hide as much. 
Too bad this decision was made not long before the Drive to Survive team came to film extra content for the show.
It was only supposed to be filler clips. Extra video footage to use with a voiceover to give more time to explain things. ‘Just pretend we aren’t here’ they had told everyone in the office, and oh boy did you pretend. 
It was Max’s fault, 100%. The undisclosed but very apparent relationship between you two was known to everyone at Red Bull at this point, but not the new video crew coming in. And Drive to Survive lives for the dramatics. 
While it wasn’t explicit, a few clips of hand holding (initiated by Max), a kiss on the cheek (given to you by Max), and multiple clips of Max looking at you with nothing but heart eyes, it was hard for anyone watching to ignore. 
Once the new season came out, fans very quickly caught onto all of the content of the two of you that DTS was trying to be sneaky about putting in. That then led to ‘internet sleuths’ finding all of the behind the scenes content they could get of both of you, and then finding your account you had left public thinking no one would care about the random Red Bull media girl. How stupid you were.
“Max, what the fuck are we supposed to do? Do I delete my account and hope people forget?” You asked, stressed by the sudden spotlight.
“That would just make it worse and make them less likely to forget. We will just have to… be honest, give people enough content to keep them satisfied but not spoiled into needing more.”
He was right. It was almost laughable how he was the voice of reason in this situation when media presence was your job. That is how everything started.
There were no ‘official wag paddock walks’, you were too busy working to be Max’s arm candy before a race. But there were a few photos here and there, your team even posted a few BTS moments of the two of you.
“All you have to do is describe the food you are eating to Checo so he can guess.” You explained to Max for the fourth time, but he was still not listening as he was far too busy appreciating the view of the beautiful woman he got the privilege of calling his girlfriend. “Do you understand?”
As Sergio nudged Max, he responded with a quick, “Yes got it”
“Do not say the name of what you are eating.”
“Yes, yes we know.” He absentmindedly said as the two drivers put on their blindfolds. 
Everyone let out a breath of relief as Max went to lift the spoon to his mouth, the entire crew antsy to finish what was supposed to be a quick video before Max ruined it with his heart eyes and lack of comprehension to anything that came out of your mouth. 
“What the fuck! It’s ketchup!” Max exclaimed as everyone groaned.
“Max, you weren’t supposed to say that!”
“I thought I was guessing what it was! That's why I had the blindfold, no?”
They were in for a long day of shooting.
Max had started a stream, hoping to make it quick so he could join you in bed. Unfortunately, when viewers saw that you were walking through the background, they wouldn’t give up until you joined, so neither of you had much of a choice.
Despite how obvious it was that the two of you were together, neither of you had confirmed the status of your relationship. This led to having to ignore about three quarters of the comments you both were getting on the stream.
“Would you like a Red Bull?” Max asked, 45 minutes into what seemed to be a never ending stream.
“No it’s too late, I’ll go get a water-”
“Nope you stay there i'll get it.” Max said, antsy for an excuse to take a moment to himself. The amount of comments about the two of you were starting to piss him off.
He returned to the room to see you answering questions and, while still off camera, he set down the glass and waved to get your attention.
‘End it’ he mouthed, making prayer motions with his hands.
You simply shook your head, you had been having more fun talking to people than he had.
‘Please, I want to go to bed with you’ he mouthed back, wiggling his eyebrows in hopes of conveying he wanted to do much more than simply go to bed. You couldn’t stop the giggle that left your mouth at that.
Seeing all the viewers confused, you simply responded, “Sorry, my coworker was harassing me” which had you giggling again as you saw Max get visibly annoyed at his new title.
“Okay guys, bye.” Was all Max said as he quickly returned to the view of the camera and turned off the stream. He then turned to face you, saying nothing as he dragged you to the bedroom, holding you close as he pushed you down onto the bed with him, causing more giggles to leave your mouth/
Giggles which he quickly stopped with a kiss. And then another. And then another.
The makeout session was in full swing when Max finally remembered why he was annoyed.
Quickly pulling away from you, much to your chagrin, he asked, “Coworkers? Is that all we are now?” He teased.
Giving him a less passionate but more loving kiss this time, you responded with, “Something like that” as you both started to remove your clothes.
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propheticbride · 2 months
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Lamb to Slaughter II
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𐙚 Aemond comes to terms with the feelings he possesses for you, just in time for a tragedy to strike in your halls.
𐙚 Aemond x Reader/Aegon x Reader (tw: manipulation, incest, mention of child's death)
(AN: I was not going to rewrite the b&c scene, sorry. the scene was hard to watch as it is)
You moan, arching your back in full pleasure. Aemond's never made you feel this way, stars dancing in your vision. Your hair wet with sweat, your face flushed, your fingers pulling at Aemond's locks.
"Please." you cry out. It's desperate. It's filthy.
"Please what?" Aemond comes up from your cunt, mouth wet with you. "Tell me and I will give it to you. I'd give you anything."
He meant it. And deep down, you knew it. But you never truly tested it before, never having the need to.
Aemond pulls himself from you, crawling up your body and resting his hips between your legs.
"I love you. Only you." he whispers, and not in a brotherly way.
You're too breathless to reply, not that he was expecting one.
It was no surprise the entire family was traumatized, the words 'I love you' never uttered between two or more members. You cannot remember a time you even spoke the words to someone, if you have ever. Not even to your dying father on his deathbed, not your mother as her fingers laced your hair in your baths, or your grandsire when he gifted you presents on your namedays. It was just three words, never to be said.
So that Aemond had said it so plainly had you surprised, maybe completely unsure on how to reply. If you should at all.
Aemond's breathing got heavier, "Tell me you love me."
Lining his cock to your cunt, he didn't give you much time to adjust before he shoved himself inside you. You mewl and clutch him closely to your body.
"Tell me-" he begins thrusting hard, causing you to rock against him. Whimpers and cries erupt from you. "-you fucking love me. Now!"
"I love you. I love you." it's like a mantra, like you're praying. Like he's your god. You're not sure if you mean it, completely aware of Aemond's feelings now. “I love you, I love you.”
With Aegon it was easier, his touches came without any awkward admission. But Aemond is a different man. You weren't sure if that upset you or not.
You aren't sure how to respond, small feelings always lingered towards him from you, but you were sure it was never once to be received back. With it
"Aemond I love you." you say softly.
"More than you love him?"
✮⋆˙
"I do not understand why I must don black, he is not my child to mourn." you play with your fingers, keeping your gaze strickly down.
"You'd have the court confused." Alicent snarks, "The way you can be found in Aegon's chambers have us all convinced it is your child to mourn."
"Does Helaena know?" your sister's feelings at the forefront of your mind.
"No. She is in mourning. I would not burden her with such news." your mother states.
She sits across from you, a black gown lined with red rubies lay across the chair beside you. For the past set minutes, she is determined for you to fit into it. But your point remained, if he was not your son, why mourn him? The whole city did and they did not know him. It seemed selfish and callous to you.
Pretenders , Aegon would seethe.
Your mother insisted you be part of the carriage for Jaehaerys’s memorial. But you refused. Rather be in Aegon's chambers comforting him. Even if it were in a way not befitting your station. You did feel bad for Helaena though. He was not your husband nor the mother to his children. But he was your king, so perhaps you were doing your duty nonetheless.
"Have you nothing to say?" your mother's voice brings you back.
"What?" you blurt out. "I do not wish to be a part of this...public display of grieving, I do not wish to be put next to her. Please mother, I do not want to."
"And what would you prefer? To crawl back into bed with Aegon and shut out the world while war eats around us?" your mother sighs, disappointed.
"I wanted to comfort him..."
"I will hear no more of it." Alicent insists, "You will wear the gown, and the smallfolk will see that the grief has reached even you, and then they will see her for what she is. A monster."
"But do we know she sent the rat catchers, can we be sure-"
"I am disappointed. To defend a traitor to the crown and the realm, the very person who has hurt your brother so purposely. Rhaenyra ordered it, that is the most known fact present in front of us."
"Why does my grief matter? He was not my son mother, and I had only held him as a babe." your voice is beginning to crack, you're desperate.
"You are disobedient as of late!" Alicent shoots up, her voice echoing through the room, "You do not do what is asked of you unless forced, your mind elsewhere. Tell me plainly and truthfully, is your brother's cock more important than your duty you are sworn to?"
Tears swelled in your eyes, "Aemond wouldn't let you do this."
"If he were here perhaps not. But he does not grace his own bed as of late, therefore he cannot put an end to this. Much to your misfortune." Alicent can only look down at you with such displeasure. The look haunts you.
"I wish we were here." you admit.
"As do I." she agrees.
✮⋆˙
When Aemond had turned a fresh one and three of age, Aegon had taken him to the brothels, to 'make a man of himself' and ever since, Aemond had found comfort in the walls, and in its people. He had wanted to find comfort in you, the very person...the only person to have treated him with such care and respect.
But you had turned to Aegon following your nephew's gruesome death, him selfishly pining after your sympathy. Aegon only did it to spite Aemond, he knew this. You did not. It was a game when they were much smaller, Aemond loved you, and Aegon had caught on. So there began a sick game; Aegon would touch and kiss you, giving you your first kiss and your first orgasm. When Aemond had found out, he had destroyed his entire chambers from anger.
You had always chosen Aegon, and despite the anger it brought, Aemond could never hate you, he had only loved you. Igniting a fire in him to win you over more. Sometimes entertaining the idea of Aegon dying, so all of your affection would be forced to be towards him.
When the news that you had taken to Aegon's chambers, and bed, in his time of grief broke to him, it drove Aemond to the brink of almost insanity. That night, he had left the castle and headed to the only person that brought him any comfort of late. Sylvi was a madam, one that Aemond had first lost his virginity to, and now was attached to her. Giving him the comfort he wished he got from you.
"He has taken her to bed." he says, laying his head on her lap, hair pooling around him. "I lost my nephew, but it is Aegon who needs the doting. I have lost her. I spent my life loving her, and he gets her most intimate parts."
"She does not see your devotion to her. She is...blinded by the King." Sylvi tells him.
"I sometimes wish that Aegon would lie dead, not to take the throne..."
"But to take her." she finishes for him.
"Daemon sent them to kill me." he says, quickly changing subjects. His heart hurt, "I was out."
"You were with me."
"In truth, I am proud…that he considers me such a foe, and that he seeks to murder me in my bed. He’s afraid of me." Aemond smiles to himself, happy that his uncle feared him.
"Where was she that night?" Sylvi asks, curious about the girl who has driven a wedge between the close boys she was once fond of.
"In his chambers, with him. While his little son was being slaughtered, he was fucking his little sister." Aemond says, tone dripping with anger. "Helaena had a blade put to her neck, and he-It is not right of him, he should do right by our sister, not bury himself in the other."
"The boy has grown into a man." the madam smirks.
"Not here." he pulls from her. Aemond sighs, "I do regret that business with Luke. I lost my temper that day, I am sorry for it."
"I am glad to hear it." Sylvi reassures him.
"We are to go to war." Aemond cuts her off, and looks back to the woman. "I worry about her place in it."
"Who? Your sister?"
"Yes." he nods.
"Which one my prince?" she goes to reach for him.
Aemond slivers out of her reach, "My lamb. They would put her in harm's way if it served them. I fear for her."
"Would your brother allow that? He must have some feelings towards his new toy."
Sylvi's words allowed anger to rise inside him, his lamb was not Aegon's toy. "Do not speak of her that way." he hisses.
"My prince?-"
"I said-" Aemond grabs her violently, her eyes shining in fear. "Do not call her a toy. She is a princess of the seven kingdoms, a station that you shall never even dream of seeing. I am fond of you but do remember your place."
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blughxreader · 9 months
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platonic yandere batfam thoughts...
how you end up integrating into the family.
I think we often forget how insidious the long-term effects of kidnapping are. Your whole world narrows and you have nothing fulfilling outside of them.
Realistically, how many weeks straight can you do nothing but look at your phone/watch TV? I know we do this every day, but we have school/work/friends/family to provide actual fulfillment and joy. But when you take that away? And have to decide whether you should scroll through monitored social media or talk to your captors?
Especially because the TV doesn't distract from the cold, hard gaze of the surveillance cameras in your room.
Even if you read and craft and cook, it's so difficult to keep your mental health in-tact without having a positive interaction with another human being.
It would start small.
It's morning and Cass smiles at you from across the breakfast table. Not wanting to be rude, you smile tightly back.
Jason wordlessly slides you a book. You take it.
After a few months, you feel slightly more comfortable about taking up space in the manor. Alfred is out of town for the weekend, so you make a sandwich with Tim.
Bruce talks to you about the new scientific breakthrough at Wayne Enterprises and keeps you relatively up-to-date on major world events. You begrudgingly learn more interesting facts than public school has ever taught you.
Soon, you've watched everything good on Netflix. You exhausted your tolerance for social media. You've given yourself headaches reading so much. You've hit an art/writers block like never before because your input has run dry.
With no other source of entertainment, you become more attentive to the Bats.
Of course, you've always watched them out of fear. But as months tick by and you've learned their hearts (and delusions), it's obvious that they would never hurt you. Furthermore, operating within their expectations is easy enough as long as you never challenge them, so the constant danger-sense slowly turns off.
However, because you don't have any outside noise to occupy your mind, drama in the house becomes almost life-and-death to you.
Peace is so fragile, and it's all you have.
Damian and Bruce return from patrol in a rage one night. Damian's furious echoes bouncing upstairs, followed by Bruce's low, indistinguishable scorn.
Fuck, you think. Now your and Bruce's talks are going to be stilted and uncomfortable. Now Damian is going to sulk in your room for hours, unwilling to talk about what happened yet wanting some kind of reassurance.
You can't keep them from fighting, but you want to protect your peace.
When you first arrived in this dreadful manor, you never would have imagined you'd offer them kind words and affection. However it's the only thing you can do now.
There's conflict. The house is tense--your world is tense.
Should you call Dick? He has a day job again, so he can't come over until tomorrow night. It's up to you to ease the tension.
So you do, slowly, with homemade food and Bruce's favorite coffee blend and Damian's favorite hot chocolate. You sit with them individually, shoulder to shoulder (much closer than you would normally sit), and pretend everything is alright. They're surprised but very quick to snap back into a good mood.
The house is suddenly back in order and you did it all by yourself.
And with these vigilantes, conflict is ripe. There's always people coming and going, fighting and playing, and you're unwillingly the most in-tune with the well-being of everyone's relationships.
You protect your peace. You protect the house.
this shit makes me gnaw at my enclosure. if you're fem, it's worse because ✨ stereotypical woman archetype ✨ anyway this has been on my mind because i've been taking care of my baby chicks and cooking dinner most nights, so i'm like 💁‍♀️ i could be a captive house wife click here for my yandere batfam masterlist
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won4kiss · 3 months
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⋆ 。⋆୨୧˚— CALL ME BABY !
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𝜗𝜚 ༘⋆ ⋆˙pairing. boyfriend! nishimura riki x fem! reader. synopsis. after spending hours on getting ready for a date and riki then cancelling, you weren’t going to forgive him quite easily! genre. angst ,, fluff. wc. 1280. 𝐥u𝐧a notes ⋆.˚ how i love riki!! schools done for a week omggg. <3 🫧 — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂
if you enjoyed reading,, please reblog & like!! <3
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YOU SAT IN THE CHATTER FILLED CLASSROOM, staring blankly at the board while your thoughts were churned with a mix of anger and frustration.
yesterday was supposed to be a special day. you had planned a cute date with riki, one you had been looking forward to the entire week.
you had spent hours getting ready, picking out the perfect outfit, curling your hair, and even doing a special make up look!
but just as you were about to leave, your phone buzzed with a message from your boyfriend,
"sorry, something came up baby :( , i can't make it today."
the disappointment had been like a punch to the gut. you tried to brush it off, and telling yourself that things happen, but it still angered you.
today, in class, you could feel the weight of that disappointment hanging over you. you had avoided riki all morning, not trusting yourself to keep your emotions in check.
when the door to the classroom swung open and riki walked in, you rolled your eyes, not being able to keep your pettiness inside of you.
he looked around, his eyes searching for you. when he finally spotted you, he gave you a small, shy and hesitant smile. you averted your gaze over to your notebook, pretending to be caught up in your notes.
he approached your desk, his usual playful and loud demeanour replaced with an unfamiliar one.
"hey, baby.." he said softly, taking a seat beside you. "can we talk? we haven’t spoken all day and it’s already last block…"
you nodded, keeping your eyes fixed on your notebook. "what is it, riki?"
his eye twitched as he grimaced at the use of his name, a look of hurt flashing across his face.
"i... i wanted to apologize for yesterday. i know i disappointed you, and i'm really, really sorry. something unexpected came up, but it’s no excuse. i should have told you sooner but it slipped my mind."
you took a deep, shaky breath, trying to keep your voice steady. "it's not just about yesterday, riki. it's about you not considering my feelings. i spent hours getting ready for you, and you cancelled last minute. it really hurt, and you didn’t even bother explain why."
riki reached out to take your hand in his, but you pulled away huffing. he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i know, angel, and i feel terrible about it, i’ll punch myself if you want me to! i want to make it up to you. please, just forgive give me and give me a chance."
you finally looked at him, giggling at the use of his words, as your eyes meet his. there was genuine remorse and sincerity in his expression, and it tugged at your heart, feeling warm.
"how do you plan to do that, mmh?"
he brightened slightly, his eyes lighting up with a spark of hope, and it made you feel even warmer, how could he even have this pull over you when you’re mad? you thought.
"i have something planned for after school. it's a surprise, but i promise it'll be special. please, just come with me?"
you hesitated, the lingering feelings of wanting revenge still fresh in your mind. but the dedication in his voice and the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world made it very very hard to stay mad.
"okay," you said finally, breaking the silence. "i'll give you a chance, i guess.”
riki's face broke into a relieved smile. "thank you. i promise you won't regret it."
the rest of the class passed in a blur. you were curious about what riki had planned, but you kept your guard up, not wanting to let your hopes get too high. when the final bell rang, riki was at your side in an instant, his excitement radiating off of him.
"ready?" he asked, his eyes shining as he looked into yours.
you nodded, allowing him to take your hand this time. he led you out of the school and towards the park nearby.
as you walked hand in hand, he kept glancing at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. when you reached the park, you saw a blanket spread out under a large tree, a picnic basket in the center, with a bow wrapped around a teddy bear.
"i know it's not much," riki said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "but i wanted to do something special for you."
you looked at the picnic setup, your heart melting at the effort he had put into it. "riki, this is absolutely perfect."
his face lit up with joy. "really? i'm glad you like it, only the best for my princess."
he led you to the blanket and helped you sit down. the basket was filled with your favorite snacks and drinks, and there was even a small bouquet of flowers. as you started to eat, riki kept glancing at you, a nervous look in his eyes.
"are you still mad at me?" he asked quietly, almost whispering as he awaited your response.
you took a deep breath, feeling the last of your anger melting away. "no, i'm not mad anymore, riki. but you have to understand how much it hurt when you cancelled last minute."
"i do," he said honestly. "and i promise i'll do better. you're important to me, and i don't want to make you feel like that ever again, i love you."
you smiled softly, feeling the sincerity in his words. "thank you, riki.. i love you too.”
you said whispering as you caressed his face in adoration, your heart bursting with love.
he beamed, leaning closer to you. "does this mean i can hear you call me baby again? i really missed hearing you say it."
you gigged, the sound light and genuine, riki smiling at the sound he had oh so loved. "i don’t know if you've earned it..." teasing riki.
riki's eyebrows furrowed as he nudged at your arm. "please, say it. just once."
you rolled your eyes playfully but couldn't help the smile that spread across your face. "okay, baby."
he let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders finally relaxing from the stress in his body. "you have no idea how much better that makes me feel."
the rest of the afternoon was spent with laughter and lighthearted talks. riki kept finding ways to make you smile, his usual playful self making a full return. as the sun began to set, casting a beautiful sunset over the park, he reached out to take your hand again.
"i'm really sorry for messing up," he said quietly. "i know i can be a bit of an idiot sometimes, but i really do care about you."
you squeezed his hand, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "i know you do. just... don't forget our dates again, okay?"
he nodded vigorously. "never again. i promise."
“good” you replied, finally taking his face in your hands, kissing him softly.
you giggled into the kiss as you felt riki grinning as he let out a content sigh.
as you both sat there, two souls intertwined in love, watching the sunset with riki by your side, you felt peace settle over you.
the anger from yesterday had faded, replaced by the warmth of his love. you leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling his arm wrap around you in a comforting embrace.
"i love you, baby," he whispered, his voice filled with love.
you smiled, feeling your heart swell with happiness. "i love you so much, riki."
and in that moment, everything felt right.
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© won4kiss 2024
taglist open <3 @luvlyhee @sjyunnsworld @shawnyle
send an ask or lmk in the comments to be added !! ㅤㅤ(ꈍᵕꈍ)ㅤ
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k4vehrtz · 9 months
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⸻ YOU'RE A CRISIS OF MY FAITH
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. ✦ . starring — dom!top! t. fushiguro / m! reader
warnings — porn with some plot, sacrilege, a copious amount of religious themes, priest! reader, virgin reader ergo loss of virginity, allusion to homophobia / internalised homophobia, unprotected sex, blowjob (r receiving), deepthroating, fingering, riding, creampie, toji lowkey has a corruption kink, use of the nickname 'angel', toji refers to the reader as father once but that is entirely in a religious sense . ✦ . wc — 2.1k . ✦ . notes — we'll all pretend that didn't just happen!! anyway!! i'm so so normal about toji...and !! i don't know what exactly falls under dark content but seeing as this contains sacrilege you've been warned nevertheless. not proof read bc t**blr stressed me out
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“what does —” he stops himself mid-sentence to motion upwards, “the big man upstairs think about homosexuality?”
you swallow hard, your adam’s apple bobbing. you hadn’t expected the question, naturally. especially from the likes of toji fushiguro of all people. but you answer anyway. “well,” you murmur, averting your gaze so that you’d stare out the window as the first signs of winter begin to settle in for its extended stay instead of being forced to meet toji’s pointed gaze. “we all are subject to desires that may or may not reflect god’s light, but these desires aren’t sinful unless you act or encourage others to act on them.”
he nods almost absentmindedly in response before following up with: “…even you, i imagine, as a man of god, could fall victim to such desires?”
and you pause for a beat, your jaw tightening as an image escapes the dark recesses of your mind; the neat box you’ve forced what you deemed unpleasant thoughts into.
the man in your mind didn’t look quite like anyone you knew at first. he was just a man without a name or a face — similarly to the world before god’s divine intervention, he too was without form. but then, by chance, you met toji fushiguro and his teenage son. then the man who’d haunt your thoughts began to change.
he was older, weathered by life experiences and parenting, and taller, maybe 6’2, with messy black hair that fell over his brows. his hair reminded you of the cloudless, starless night sky. then there was that scar on the corner of his right lip. you’d imagined yourself on more than one occasion leaning toward him, pressing your lips against it before he’d open his mouth and let you explore the wet cavern.
though you shake your head as if that would dismiss your thoughts, fingers curling defensively around the window’s ledge. “everyone encounters temptation in their day-to-day, but, like god’s son, we must resist.” you counter eventually. “you’re not one for idle chatter.”
“i’m not,” he agrees, his voice smooth, something akin to the feeling of silk against your skin. it gives you goosebumps and makes the hairs stand up. he puts his hands up in mock surrender, his gaze intent. you can feel him burning holes into the back of your head. “you know, i think i’m long overdue for a confession.”
“as you wish.”
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“our heavenly father has declared the following in the book of james, chapter five, verse sixteen: ‘therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. the prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective’. now, in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit, amen.”
silence — and then toji sucks in a breath, his voice thick with an emotion you can’t quite grasp but has you shifting in your seat on the other side of the confessional booth anyway. you’re, on some level, disgusted by your behaviour. it’s unprofessional at best, or perhaps the beginning of your unravelling at worst. you fear it’s the latter.
“bless me, father, for i have sinned,” the words slide off his tongue with ease, “it has been two months since my last confession.” and your eyes flutter closed, or maybe you forced them closed because you feel no better than a pervert by the way you ache at every sound that comes out of his mouth.
either way, you don’t notice the way the door creaks as toji lets himself out of his side of the confessional booth and opens the door to yours until he’s kneeling in front of you, the pads of his fingers digging into your sides. the skin of his fingers is rough, worn out from the different tasks he takes on to keep himself and megumi afloat, you think. he’s become something of a handyman around town.
“to be honest, father,” he says, now directly addressing you. “i came here fer’ your guidance…you see, i’ve been havin’ thoughts lately that i don’t think align with what god wants.” and you find yourself at a loss, your eyes still closed, though your adam’s apple bobs again as you swallow your suppressed thoughts. “my guidance?” you repeat quietly, “confess your…thoughts…then, and seek forgiveness. it’s not a sin unless you act on those thoughts.”
he lets out a pleased hum at that, leaning forward so that his face is practically buried in your clothed crotch. “so,” he counters, “if my understanding is correct, would it be a sin if i told you to spread your legs f’me?”
you don’t trust yourself to speak right now — not when your thoughts are all muddled. so, you simply nod and toji clicks his tongue. “but sin or not, you’re going to anyway because you and i both know how we feel about each other, right? c’mon, use your big boy words and tell me.”
the smart thing—no, the right thing to do here would be to say no. adamantly deny the lingering touches and glances that the two of you had come to share. affection between two men could only go so far. but then again, you’ve gone so much farther in the safety of your bedroom long after the sun has set. how much longer could you shamelessly show your face to the other members of the church and listen to them confess their deepest secrets to you? you’re parading as a righteous man when you’re anything but.
if it turns out to be as bad of a sin as they say, god will strike you down.
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turns out it’s not as bad of a sin as they say — or maybe it is and you’ve yet to receive divine punishment.
“god works in mysterious ways,” you say under your breath but toji hears it anyway. how could he not when you’re in such proximity to each other? you hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it doesn’t matter. and toji (ever the charmer) takes it upon himself to respond, “maybe he brought us together for a reason…or maybe i’m one of lucifer’s lackeys sent to seduce you.”
you make the conscious decision to ignore that which seems to entertain toji even more. he’s ridiculous in ways you can’t fathom. like…the way he’s got your legs spread, back pressed firmly against the wood of the confessional, your thighs trembling as he clicks his tongue, “spread yer’ legs a little wider f’me angel, s’not enough f’me to suck that pretty cock.”
he… he knows what he’s doing. whereas you were clumsy and inexperienced. but, to be fair, you had taken a vow of celibacy when you were twelve.
now, though, you’re experiencing true pleasure for the first time — and with a man, no less. you tilt your head back in what little space the confessional affords you as toji gives your balls tentative touches, maybe light squeezes, as he aligns the head of your leaking cock with his mouth. you’re embarrassed, warmth flooding your cheeks, but you can’t look away. not when this is all you’ve ever wanted.
there’s pre-cum on his lips; your pre-cum. it’s there, as clear as day, and he’s entirely unbothered. all of his attention is on your cock. your cock that’s throbbing as he sucks on it. pre-cum and saliva mixing. it’s all so new to you.
as for him…well isn’t this cute? you’re trying your hardest to stifle those needy moans of yours, he can tell. but no matter how much you bite down on your lower lip or how you press your hands against your mouth those pretty sounds you make always find a way of escaping. part of him, somewhere deep down, feels guilty for corrupting you like this. but perhaps he doesn’t feel guilty enough.
he continues to work on your cock, sucking on it whilst simultaneously fondling with your balls. you’re quivering, rutting your hips forward now and then. occasionally you go too far and it scares you at first — you didn’t mean to push your cock all the way to the back of his throat! ever the unbothered, though, he welcomes it until you’re spurting your load down his throat. and he swallows, utterly content.
then he coos at you, bringing a thumb up to your face, and tracing the outline of your jaw. “don’t worry about me, angel, you’re not going to hurt me. what you’re going to do f’me is let me reposition us so i can see your pretty boy hole, m’kay? my boy can do that f’me, right?”
my boy. the idea of being his. after so long…it only feels right. so, you allow him to readjust your position so that you’re straddling his lap and somewhere in the process you both disregard your clothes.
“you’ve been thinking about my cock? that’s why yer’ hole is winking f’me? all ready to take my cock like a big boy?” he asks and you nod your head eagerly. every word that comes out of his mouth is dirty but your reactions are the icing on the cake. you’re not the quiet, unassuming priest he met by chance all those months back. and to think that he’s the reason why.
well, he doesn’t linger on the thought. you’re impatient, squirming on his thighs in search of friction. but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t get him going and he may be many things but he would not force himself into you without properly preparing you to take him.
so as much as you whine about it, he ultimately takes his time with you. the nearest lubricant happened to be some sort of oil, but he made sure that it was safe to use before coating his fingers in a generous amount. then he oh so carefully drags his finger across your hole. it makes you shudder, but after a few minutes of this, you find yourself unprepared for the stretch of fitting a singular digit in. it hurts and the moment you so much as whimper toji’s pressing his lips against yours. the same lips that were around your cock only moments ago. his lips are gentle, soothing, even.
and he keeps it like that — his lips against yours as he slowly introduces more fingers into your ass. it takes a while but your pained whimpers soon morph into more desperate, filthy little noises as he drags his fingers in and out of your hole before curling them, tips grazing your prostate.
you want it, you decide. his cock, that is. you want his cock in your ass beyond a reasonable doubt. it’s all you need. bouncing on his fingers feels good but you just know that his cock would feel so much better.
“this is a sin, we’re both sinning,” you announce, your words strong but your delivery coming in between laboured gasps as his fingers continue to graze your prostate. “so i expect you to fuck me like you mean it.”
and he doesn’t need to be told twice. with a scoff — one that sounds more amused than annoyed — he pulls his fingers out of you. shaking his head as you whimper at the loss. but it’s soon replaced by something bigger and much thicker. it’s his cock, covered in the same oil, and you almost can’t believe it when he’s aligning it with your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscle.
you have to take a few breaks before you fully sink on him with a low groan. he makes you feel so full and he hasn’t even moved yet. and when you take it upon yourself to ride him you revert to the softheaded boy he makes you out to be.
your movements are clumsy — mediocre, you’re sure of it. but toji doesn’t intervene. he simply leans back, big, warm hands on your hips, while you figure out your rhythm. and after a few failed attempts you find one that works for both of you. it feels good, it feels great even. his hard cock filling you to the brim while you all but mindlessly bounce on his cock, your walls clenching around his throbbing length.
you’re going to cum soon, you’re sure of it. and when you do eventually watch through teary eyes as your cock spurts ropes of cum onto his stomach you’re not surprised whatsoever. toji, however, takes a lot longer to cum. you’ve probably cum at least two more times by the time toji takes control, his grip on your hips tightening as he angles you just the right way to hit your prostate with each thrust of his hips upwards. your toes curl, eyes half-lidded, and you just barely acknowledge the warmth of his semen in your ass.
all you can think of, and just barely manage to stutter out is: “you’ve fucked me,” and he stares up at you with a smug smile, chest heaving as he copes with his orgasm that has been a long time coming, “yeah, i’ve fucked yer’ pretty boy hole.”
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webbluvrsugar · 3 months
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in a different world, Rafe would be one of those gym bros…
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No cause he would be very smooth with his plans, he would see you all the way up from where you’re doing your Pilates class, and when you’re not taking a class, he would glance at you when you’re doing legs and be sneaky about it, and when in the middle of your sets, he sees you refilling your drink with one of those fruity mixes you love so much, he smiles, approaches you from behind like those classic moves, claiming he didn’t see you and playing around with how short you are compared to him, just that typical chad you know, and somehow it works on you. He leans against the fountain drink dispenser and flips his cap back, looks up and down at you with a smirk on the corner of his lips, tells you that if you ever need help on your sets that he doesn’t mind helping, he’s free anytime - even when he’s training - so you smile, nod and leave with the bottle on your lips, walking around with your little shorts back to your machine as you feel the look he’s giving straight to your ass, pretending you don’t notice his techniques.
You bite into it, start asking more and more for his help cause “chest is so hard to do rafey, I can’t do it alone.” and he likes it, likes feeling needed and likes that he’s helping you on something you pretend to not know how to do, acting all girly and feminine next to him because you’re low-key into it, into the toxic masculinity he expresses, so eventually you give him you’re number and go on a few dates, you lead him onto your bed to see if what he says is really true and he’s nasty with it. rough. careless.
He’s pounding you onto the bed while he makes you take it face down, one hand fisting your hair as he presses your face on the mattress, the other occasionally marking your butt with slaps because he says “that sweet lil’ ass has been tempting me for too long now.” you clench around him and cry out underneath - drooling the pillow underneath you and whining - he only scoffs, smirks and slaps you harder, “know that shit turns you on, look at her, clenching ‘round my dick like a vice.” and he’s right, because all of this does turn you on, his groans on your ear as he acts like he doesn’t care about nothing but your cunt and the way you arch for him, the filthy things he says.
“Not going tomorrow are you? don’t even know if you’ll be walk.” and you can’t answer him, you’re too busy moaning, whining and crying, because the man on top of you has a lot of stamina and you can’t handle it, and when he’s finally done, letting you go with a final slap on your ass, he gets off from your bed, throws the condom away and leaves, you have no idea if he’ll text you or not, if you were just a good lay, but it passes a few days and he’s asking you out on a date.
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