#because it is his life for crying out loud!!!

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𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲

pairing: yandere satoru gojo x chubby reader

summary: at the beginning gojo made your life hell when he first sees you because you won't give him attention. then it all changes, he just hated seeing you cry and he'll use all his resources and power to love you and spoil you

word count: 14.7k words

a/n: okay okay! i'm back! with something incredibly longer compared to every other oneshot i've written. i started this before gojo's birthday but it just kept getting longer and longer, then came the holidays and then i got ill too but it's finally finished, yay! i hope you all enjoy this and of course like always make sure you read the warnings before reading x

content warnings: gojo is a yandere!! friends to lovers, hints of stalking, gojo manipulates everyone, mentions of breeding, fingering, rough unprotective sex, cumming inside, gojo calls her 'silly girl' in his head and thinks she thinks to much (kind of like 'you don't need to think or make decisions or earn money because i can do that for you'), dirty talk, dumbification, objectification(?), submissive reader, dominant gojo, petnames: princess, sweetheart, (good girl) (if i've missed anything please let me know because it's very possible with 14.7k words - mdni / 18+

everyone flocks to satoru gojo, girls and guys alike, they want his attention, if only for a second, and want to be noticed by him. he's the beating heart to every social situation, with an ability to draw every single eye in the room on him, feeding off the spotlight and admiration. whatever he wants he gets it, he has since he was a young child so why are you being so difficult?

there's not many who he considers his equal, if he had to pick out one it would be his best friend from childhood suguru geto, two families telling their children to talk to the other in hopes to form more connections. gojo remembers to this day being five years old dressed up in a suit that was too stuffy for any five year old to wear, taken to a party with his parents. everywhere he looked there were elites and politicians, anyone and everyone with power. he remembers the nudge his mother gave him towards suguru's direction, telling her son to make friends. others at the university are lesser than him, but they're entertaining for a short duration, before he gets bored of them and tosses them away for someone else, that is.

then there's the nobodies, the lowest of the low. uninteresting in every way possible with nothing to offer him, nothing to pique his interest and in terms of satoru gojo you're a typical nobody but even the nobodies look his way when they think people won't notice. even the really shy ones or the stubborn ones who always say how much they despise how everyone adores him will momentarily glimpse in his direction when they think no one's looking.

but you... you look right past him, and it pisses him off. do you think you're better than him? even people in long term relationships eyes drift to him, most would break up with their partner for just one night with him. this 'most' mainly means all, everyone wants a chance to be with the man whose sexual escapades are spoken about frequently in such a high regard.

it's not like you don't know about his existence, you do, but you want to keep yourself to yourself. even your closest friends talk about the famous satoru gojo but he gives you the shivers for some reason. you've never spoken to him and you don't intend to, even if it's everyone's dream, it's not yours, something's just not quite right about him. you live in completely different worlds, different universes, and you prefer to dream about things more realistic, maybe dragons and flying saucers on occasion but never satoru gojo. not only is associating with him unrealistic but just the thought of him makes you shudder. he's too cocky, too self-assured, too arrogant, too loud, too... attractive, it doesn't seem right that someone would look that good. it's like he's hypnotised everyone bar you.

first it's irritation when he notices your behaviour, it's clear when you're acting the complete opposite to everyone, then it's anger when he sees you pay attention to someone that isn't him. something must be wrong with you if you're laughing at a joke that he didn't make, a joke told by another nobody, not just a nobody but someone a year younger. his actions are fuelled by his anger and his annoyance towards you. he makes sure every friend and acquaintance you have stops talking to you, it's easy really. all those so called 'friends' leave you alone after 'overhearing' hushed voices talk about how gojo's more likely to talk to someone when they're not friends with someone who's like you. it was easy to orchestrate it, all he needed was two girls who constantly fawn over him, perfect for doing his bidding.

"gojo never talks to yumehara, even though she tries so hard."

"yeah, it's because she's friends with moriyama. associating with someone like her is a no-go."

"moriyama?"

"yeah, you know that girl in class a, the one who thinks she's better than everyone and doesn't care about gojo."

you now sit by yourself and walk the corridors alone- easy. if he was more sympathetic towards you he'd almost feel bad that all of your friends would stop talking to you so readily.

next was your grades. the gojo family funds the university meaning that he had much more power than the average person, even more than people who also come from wealthy families. professors know it's in their best interest not to get on the bad side of the heir of the gojo family, not just for the university's sake but for themselves as well. one wrong move and they'll be fired, blacklisted throughout town unable to get a job. one wrong move and the university could lose all their funding. he wields more power than the headmaster.

you already get average grades, typically b's and occasionally c's but if he plays his cards right he knows he can lower those c's another extra grade down to an f and he knows just who to start with. professor iura: a man in his mid-thirties who's respected by all and he knows you like him. he's been told you try extra hard in his class, taking double the amount of notes in his lectures than you ordinarily do. he knows getting an f in his class first would be more hurtful than over all the other classes.

"professor iura don't you think the girl who wrote the paper on-" he stops mid sentence, what did you write about again?- "something so boring it hasn't even sunk in. i remember everyone else's but not hers." he only remembers his own and there was never any reason to see what a nobody like you wrote about.

the professor's eyebrows furrow before quickly schooling his expression back to impassive. satoru has used his influence before but iura's never heard about him using it as payback for whichever poor soul's caught his ire. "who is it?" iura thought you deserved an a this time, it's disappointing that he'll have to give you an f.

all these things start stacking up and you feel like the universe is against you, you don't understand your sudden drop in grades or why your friends won't talk to you. you do your best to put on a brave face but you feel alone, you have no one to turn to, you don't understand why everyone gives you the cold shoulder and why they pretend you don't exist, your facial expression dropping when someone ignores you for the umpteenth time. you don't understand how your water always seems to spill in your bag all over your things even though you swear you've put on the lid securely, screwing the lid on the bottle so tightly your hands suffer the consequence, almost raw, from how tight you've tried to make it. you can't afford to buy another textbook and you don't have enough time to rewrite your essay.

you don't understand how things go missing every time you look away. you glance to the window when you see a falling leaf, burnt orange and crimson red litter the floor outside. autumn is so beautiful, a season of harvest and abundance but it's a reminder to you that nothing lasts forever, leaves fall and people leave. people talk about how autumn is maturing but omits the melancholy idea that it's just growing old, that burnt oranges and crimson reds are just rotting on the ground. your whole world is rotting with every second, the universe has it out for you and by the time you look back into the room your pen is missing.

gojo takes pleasure from seeing your face at these times, that puzzled look and biting your lip in frustration as you've lost another pen or that pout when your friend ignores you, he thinks it looks pretty on you. not that he'd ever admit that of course.

his pleasure twists though, into a new emotion- a darker emotion. you got another f and you look... sad... distraught. satoru enjoys seeing your pout when something goes wrong for you, he thinks it's pretty but he's watching you like a hawk right now, he can't take his eyes off you, he can tell you're trying desperately to hold it all together but you can't stop your eyes from welling up, it's impossible to stop your waterline brimming with tears, overflowing like a broken tap, hot tears running down your face, you attempt to quickly wipe your tears away with the back of your sleeve in hopes that nobody has seen but it's too late for that. he thought he would take pleasure in seeing you cry but instead it's pure rage. even though he's the one that's convinced all of your professors to give you f's, all he feels is fury for them making you cry. he doesn't want you to cry, he wants to keep you safe, wants to make you all his.

in the following weeks professors leave the university without announcing it to students. leaving studies and classes in a limbo for awhile. not just the professor who made you cry is gone but also iura and several others.

with that limbo period came more group projects to fill in the space of the lack of lectures. a 'little' push from satoru to higher ups and you were paired up together, leaving you no choice to spend time together and have your first conversation with each other. at this point he needed to be near you. you sit across from each other after class and you introduce yourself to each other, even though you both know who the other is, you didn't expect him to know you and he acts like he doesn't. "oh i know you, i really liked your last paper. you got an f, right? i can't believe that, it was the best one." after all your friends avoiding you and all those f's getting validation makes you shyly smile, your cheeks feel warm and you're starting to understand why people like him.

things start to change after that. your f's go back to normal and people are kinder, with everything going back to normal satoru makes sure you're still alone though, makes sure your friends continue not to talk to you. he's the only one that's allowed to do that. your friends still don't spend time with you, instead gojo does and honestly you don't mind that change, you appreciate that change, you don't know what happened with your friends but you like how gojo doesn't dismiss your emotions and opinions like they used to do.

you previously had that inkling that something was wrong with him but his easygoing smiles and playful words make you enjoy your time with him and his once overconfidence that you always used to observe which once bothered you now makes your heartbeat go crazy in your chest, like marching drums hammering away against your ribcage.

satoru notices this change in you and he takes advantage of it. this change doesn't make him lose interest in you, maybe if you were someone else it would but not with you, if anything it makes him more interested because he learns more and more without you, some with your consent and knowledge others without it. he thinks you look so cute when you smile and he loves hearing you laugh. he never really liked music but he's listened to all those music and songs you share to the world like the ones you love that you play in cars and talk to people about them, plus the more secret ones hidden in your likes and private playlists. he loves the things you do that you don't realise you're doing, the soft sighs you make when you put on a warm coat when it's cold or the hums when you drink a hot drink. how you bite your pen when you're deep in thought and linger by the door before leaving the house and locking up, mentally checking you have everything you need with you. the little moans you make when you eat something that you love, at those times satoru has to restrain himself from kissing you. he loves it all. he loves you.

you see each other whenever possible and if you can't you'll be texting, he'll send you emoji's at the end of messages that you don't understand the context to and will send you selfies and photos of cats he's seen while around town.

after the first few times at the library you tend to see each other at café because they're more relaxed and you can talk as loud as you want to. he starts paying for your lunch whenever you're together, you always used to insist to pay yourself but after the first few times you relented, he could buy you breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday for the rest of your life yet it still wouldn't make a dent in his wallet. not only does he buy you lunch now but it's much more extravagant then you could afford for yourself.

you're walking together past a store front window and gojo sees something that catches his eye, stopping where he is and pulling on your sleeve to stop you too. "look at this!"

your eyes scan the window not knowing what he's talking about, all of them are designer clothes but none of them are men's. "what are we looking at gojo?"

he grins and points to a blouse, "that would look so good on you, you'd look so cute!" 'doubtful' you think. you scoff, that is a cute blouse but no way. "hey, what was that for? it's true." he insists.

"i don't even need to go in there to see that it's way out of my price range, plus designer brands like that never have my size anyway."

"you didn't say you didn't like it."

"me liking or not liking it isn't the point."

you carry on the rest of your day like it didn't happen and you forget about the whole thing. gojo doesn't.

all of gojo's fans start to get jealous of you, it's been over three months, the limbo period is over and new people have been hired, group projects are finished but you still spend all your days together. his previous relationships have been no more than eye candy only lasting a couple weeks yet you don't even seem to be dating so why is he always smiling when you talk and is walking you everywhere. they can't comprehend it, you're a nobody.

satoru loses it one day. you've gone to hand in your library book, it's overdue and you had forgotten about it, you needed it for when you and gojo were working together but you forgot all about it. gojo's waiting outside for you, you know the librarian likes you more so you've told him it's better if you go on your own, he knows that isn't true but as long as the librarian is kind to you he won't intervene. 'if the librarian knows what's good for her she'll let it go and not upset you.'

someone gojo vaguely recognises as a cheerleader who suguru slept with a few times spots him and goes over to him, leaning against him and pushing her breasts up against him. it disgusts him. "what are you doing here gojo? don't tell me that friend of yours is making you wait for her." she says in a sickly sweet voice and his eye twitches. he doesn't reply, she should get the idea and leave. "if i were her i'd never do that. why don't you come hang out with me? me and my friends are having a party later we'd love it if you'd come. normally i wouldn't come up to you so boldly but i think i'd be able to show you a good time, not like that girl you're always spending time with, you're so out of her league." she runs her hand along his arm but he grabs it tightly making her wince.

"don't ever fucking talk about her again," gojo responds coldly. he squeezes tighter and she yelps. he lets go of arm and pushes her away, almost in revulsion that he touched her. she stumbles and leans against the wall, looking shocked. at that time you push open the door with a relieved look on your face. satoru ignores the girl, acting like she doesn't exist, he smiles brightly at you. "everything okay?"

"yeah, she was surprisingly very understanding," you return his smile and shut the door behind you. when you shut the door you see the girl leaning against the wall staring at gojo and you wonder why. you've seen lots of gojo's fans but none of them have looked at him like that. you turn your attention back to gojo, not really wanting to engage with the girl if you can help it, you've never seen her before but you can tell that she's someone who would make your life hell if you knew each other as teenagers. "is everything okay?" you ask him, vaguely gesturing to her.

he grins and strolls towards you lifting up his sunglasses and lifting up your chin to look at him, forcing you to make eye contact and in doing so you get flustered and frazzled. gojo would sometimes put his arm over your shoulder when your walking together or grab hold of you quickly from behind unexpectedly, making you jump but this is the first time it's ever been so intimate. it's also rare for you to see gojo without his sunglasses on. "everything's fine." he grins and pats your head jokingly making you glare and pout. he snickers as he sees your reaction and lets go of your chin, slinging his arm over your shoulder.

"alright, if you say so, but for lunch i'm getting extra for that, i'm not some pet." you grumble and walk off together. satoru's mind flashes with images with you on your knees, 'i think she'd make a good pet. maybe i should buy her a collar.' he snickers again and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, "what's so funny?"

"nothing," he smirks. as you walk away he turns back around to look at the girl still standing there paralysed and glares hard at the girl. normally people would be swooning when they see his bright blue eyes like the clearest spring days but not right now, they'd all be wrong, his eyes aren't clear like any warm day they're frozen over and icy, with flecks of white and all that girl feels is despair and dread. he looks at her so cruelly, it makes her unable to move- frozen in place.

you haven't seen gojo for the last few days, it's the longest you've gone without seeing him since you became friends. even if you've both been busy previously gojo makes sure to have seen you, even if it's only for a minute, but you've both been too busy. gojo has had basketball practise in the day and in the night his family demands his attendance whilst discussing family affairs and you on the other hand have been busy studying, wanting to make sure you don't get any f's again. you don't realise you won't though, everything could be incoherent with each other word being spelled terribly and you'd never get an f again, gojo's made sure of that. he won't let anyone make you cry again.

you rhythmically tap your fingers, fidgeting on the table where your laptop and textbooks are, 'i want to see him.' satoru's scored another goal, this time a three point line goal, normally he goes for slam dunks but as long as he's the one scoring it doesn't really bother him. he's got a big game coming up and you're going to be there, you're going for him, you've never been to any of the games before, not having any real interest in the sport but now your friend is the star player so you're not going to miss any games. he'll score every single point his team makes so your eyes have no option but to focus on him and after the match you'll compliment him. the coach asks him something but it's all white noise to him, 'i miss her.'

you get a text on the fourth day of not seeing him and when you read the message you smile so wide your face becomes sore. 'the last few days have been so long without you! i know we normally go out for lunch but do you want to go for dinner?'

you don't hesitate responding, 'i'd love too!'

'i'll pick you up an hour before our reservations, i've brought you something.'

'reservations? did you plan tonight? and what's this about buying me something? you already pay for my lunch.'

'i've pulled some strings xoxo see you tonight.' you scowl when you read that he's blatantly ignored your comment about buying you something and if he's went out his way to pull some strings for this meal it must be more than a fast food drive-thru or the equivalent. you didn't really expect him to take you somewhere where you can eat in your car or it's acceptable to wear a three day old top and a hoodie that is a little too small but for him to go to the effort of pulling strings this must be a sophisticated place.

half an hour later you hear your phone again, multiple messages being sent one after another, five buzzes. 'shit.' 'I FORGOT' 'i forgot to send a time!' 'i'll see you at 6.' 'pretend this never happened.' you cover your face with your phone and giggle.

by six you're ready, it's taken you longer to get ready then you'd like to admit but you wanted to look pretty, it would be embarrassing to underdress. compared to gojo anything you or any 'normal' person would wear looks cheap in comparison to all his designer clothes but you spent hours making sure it would be suitable.

it's ten past six when you hear a knock on the door. opening it you see gojo in all his glory, his attractiveness on full display and his wealthiness showing, wearing an all black giorgio armani suit with a white shirt underneath, his sunglasses look different than normal, fancier, you think you can make out a ray-ban logo. he's wearing a rolex watch which is more than double your monthly rent. his hair looks shorter than the last time you saw him, he must of had a haircut in the last few days. it's obvious the way your eyes linger on him, checking him out and gojo grins as you unknowingly fuel his pride and ego.

"awe, you look so cute princess," gojo says playfully, smirking. princess- the first time he had called you that you malfunctioned, your eyes had widened and you forgot to breath. no one else has ever called you a term of endearment before and you didn't expect your friend, satoru gojo, to be saying it. you didn't ask why he called you it, why would you? it made your fingertips tingle and the inside of your chest to warm up. "can i come in?" you nod your head and move to the side to give him enough room to come in and close the door after him. "you really do look beautiful," he says gently, you don't think you've ever heard him speak so tenderly before.

"you look good too gojo, you always do but- but tonight as well," you tell him, bashfully smiling. he grins and his eyes gleam with glee at the genuine compliment. he loves when you compliment him, it feels different than the vapid ones others offer him, even if you compliment him with only a few words it means a greater deal.

behind his back he's carrying a sleek black box with a scarlet red chiffon ribbon wrapped around it in a bow containing his gift to you, your eyes narrow when he hands it too you, although your voice is soft and quiet when you say, "it's not my birthday gojo, why are you buying me things? you don't have to do that," your voice gets quieter with each word spoken.

gojo takes your hand in his and places the box in your hand. "i can buy you things because i can. i have enough money and i want to spend it on you," he tells you firmly and your stomach flutters with butterflies but you don't know why, his hand is awfully soft maybe that's why your heart is racing or maybe it's because he spoke to you firmly like there's no room for arguments. gojo cups your cheek with his unoccupied hand and strokes it, your whole body melts at the action, "just open it 'kay?"

you nod your head and hum, relenting- just like you did when he began paying for your lunch. you delicately unwrap the bow, not wanting to ruin the box, and open it, you didn't know what to expect, you could of been given a hundred guesses and a hundred days to guess what he brought you and you still would have no clue. you pause as you open up the lid, your heart skips a beat and it's almost as if the air was stolen from your lungs like deflated balloons as you breathlessly say, "satoru! what's this?" inside the box is the blouse you were looking at all those weeks ago, the one you said was too expensive, the one you said would never fit.

'satoru' it's the first time you've ever called him by his given name and it sounds so angelic coming from your lips that he's forgotten to breathe, everything pausing and not moving. "do you like it?" he finally asks.

you nod your head in an almost daze, you're in awe that he'd really give you something so beautiful, that he would go out of his way to buy it. "i- i don't deserve this gojo."

he steps closer to you, "uh uh, what's with calling me gojo again?"

your eyes widen as you realise that only a second ago you called him by his given name, "oh! i'm so sorry! i was just in shock, i didn't mean to call you that gojo," you ramble.

he smoothed out the wrinkles of his forehead rubbing it with his fingers, which is currently caused because he finds your lack of awareness disconcerting. "that isn't what i meant princess, i want you to call me satoru. i want to give this to you."

"oh... okay," you're quiet and you've pressed your lips together to stop yourself from smiling. it won't be hard to start calling him satoru, you already call him satoru in your head. after a long pause of you trying to put your thoughts all together you start speaking again, "are you sure about this satoru? this is bound to be expensive, right? it's- it's ralph lauren isn't it? isn't this too expensive too be spending on me." gojo has to hide a smirk at that, 'has she forgotten how rich i am?' "and, and i don't want you to think that i want to spend time with you because you have money or anything!" 'ah she's adorable, i could just cancel our reservations and have her on her knees the whole night to say thank you for the blouse... i couldn't do that though, not right now... if i don't see her in that blouse in the next five minutes i'll go insane.'

"of course i'm sure about this princess, i know you'd never spend time with me for clothes from ralph lauren." he resists the urge to pull you in by your waist and kiss you, he doesn't want to overwhelm you, not at this moment.

you take the blouse out of the gift box and hold it out in front of you, there's a twinkle in your doe eyes as you look at it in wonder, knowing that this is yours, whispering, "pretty," it's barely audible. "wait, i didn't think this store went up to my size? did you go to a different store? and... how do you know my size." you ask him confused.

"i have my ways," he answers and winks at you, you scoff at the wink and narrow your eyes.

"seriously satoru," you press him. 'ah she could ask me anything and i'll tell her if she keeps calling me satoru.' "actually i know you know my size from when you've seen my coats and jumpers lying around but-" 'oh yeah... that's totally how i know...' "- how did you get it in my size?"

"annoyingly they don't actually make that particular blouse in your size... how ridiculous is that, sadly i don't have enough money and connections to make them ruined and bankrupt." he says nonchalantly, casually waving his arm around. you bark out a laugh thinking that he was joking. he wasn't. if even one article of clothing isn't made in your size it should only be fair for the brand to lose all their money and reputation, no matter what the brand is.

"hold up how do i have this if it doesn't come in my size?" you cock your head to the side quizzically and for the second time gojo thinks about buying you a collar, maybe with a matching lead...

he grins and flicks his eyes back and forth between your face and the blouse you're holding up. "obviously i got it custom made,"

"that's- that's obvious?!" you splutter and he laughs.

"obviously." he reiterates, enjoying your reaction- dumbstruck and lips parted in near disbelief.

"it'll take us thirty minutes to get to the restaurant princess and our reservations in about forty minutes." he lets you know and you snap out of your stupor.

"i'll just get my bag."

"hang on!" satoru rushes out before you can leave to get your bag. "you look beautiful right now princess but don't you want to see how that blouse looks on you?" you shift your weight from side to side, heat rising to your cheeks. 'do i really have time to get changed? i spent so long choosing this outfit too.' before you can say something gojo stops you, not wanting to give you an opportunity to say no or think to hard about it. he wants you to do it, you don't have to have an opinion on the matter, leave that him. sometimes you can't be trusted when it comes to these things. "come on princess, i'm the one who brought you it. just wear it, please. i want to make sure it fits properly."

you yield, "okay let me go get changed."

satoru smirks, 'good girl.'

as you come back out of the bedroom adrenaline bursts through his veins. you twirl around, pausing when you circle back round to gojo and picking up the hem of your skirt playfully with one hand and doing a half curtsy, it's such a happy coincidence that the blouse pairs so well with the skirt you're already wearing, "how do i look?" 'beautiful, stunning, breathtaking, ethereal.'

"perfect," he replies dreamily and you giggle, thinking he isn't being serious and is exaggerating.

"i'm serious satoru," you tell him, it was meant to sound firm and like you won't back down until you get an answer but it just turned out sounding a little whiny.

gojo smirks and leisurely saunters to you, stopping when coming up close in front of you, "you look truly beautiful sweetheart." 'sweetheart' he's never called you that before. you don't know if your heart can keep taking it all. satoru's your friend, your close friend, but at times like this it's hard to remember that.

you bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling- admittedly unsuccessfully. the corners of your mouth still quirk up and your round cheeks become more predominate. you fight the desire to cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, instead opting to twiddle your fingers. "sh-should we get going?"

satoru grins at you, "sure thing."

the whole drive you're both stealing looks at each other when you can get away with it while making small talk and satoru's not letting you know where you're going saying that it's a surprise. whenever there's a red light gojo takes his time to admire you and as you step outside into the night you're astonished at the restaurant in front of you. satoru's handing his car keys to a valet to park his car but you're distracted from that, finally knowing where you're eating tonight. you know this place, well you know of this place. never in a million years would you have thought you'd be dining here, it's so lavish that the cutlery is more expensive than buying a house that's already furnished. "are you okay princess?" you snap out of your daze and nod your head. "alright then, let's go inside."

you follow closely behind gojo, nervous as you enter, you don't think you've ever felt more out of place. satoru doesn't even give his name, the man at the desk recognises him straight away, "ah mr. gojo if you'd follow me." the man leads you upstairs and you hear him asking satoru questions but all that's going through your mind is 'please don't trip, please don't trip.' you're quite accident prone and falling down these stairs would be too much to handle. he takes you all the way to the fourth floor and near the window where you can see the city lights shining below. "here you are."

when the man leaves satoru pulls out a chair for you and you're startled by the gesture. you take your seat and he takes his. "you're more gentlemanly then i expected you to be satoru, pulling out my chair for me," you pause for a second mulling your thoughts over before adding, "or is that normal etiquette?"

"i'm very chivalrous, i'll have you know," he replies pouting and you raise an eyebrow at how fake his answer sounded. he throws his hands up with a smirk, "well, i'm not always chivalrous but if a pretty lady is in front of me than i can become very courteous." you chuckle, trying not to hone in the pretty part for your own sanity.

you glance at the table and worry because satoru might know proper etiquette but you don't. you know the general rules and ideas but why are there two knives and forks next to your plate and a spoon as well? why are there two glasses, a wine one and a normal one? why does the napkin look fancy? does that mean it's just for decoration, what if you need it? you're worried that you'll leave smudges in places where there shouldn't be and what if the table cloth rips? maybe this was a mistake...

"hey," satoru says softly catching your attention, when you look back up at him you see his smirk has turned into a frown and you don't think you've seen that expression on his face before, it doesn't fit right. he's taken off his sunglasses and placed them down, hanging them out of his suit pocket. his striking baby blue eyes glinting when the chandelier droplets move in the light. his snowy white hair looking soft and subdued under the glow of the light and the wavering flame of the candle. "sweetheart, whatever you're thinking right now isn't true."

"how did y-"

he cuts you off before you can finish asking. "because i know you and i know that look on your face, that overthinking look, i can see all those unnecessary cogs turning in your brain."

"i just..." you look away from him, not wanting to look into his eyes any longer knowing you'll crumble but gojo's not allowing that. with how long his arms are it's not difficult reaching over the table to you, placing his fingers below your chin and tilting your head around to look at him.

"just what? sweetheart." satoru presses you.

bunching up your skirt into tight fists you take a shaky breath and try again, "i'm worried i don't belong here. this is a really lovely place satoru and i just... what if i embarrass you? i'm not like you, i don't know when to do certain things or say specific things, i don't know why the table is placed like it is or any of it," after the words stop spewing out your mouth you take another breath, this time not shaky and deep. you look relieved to get it out.

'silly girl.' "do you really think i'd get embarrassed because of you sweetheart? nothing you could do would make me embarrassed. i'm lucky that you're with me right now. i don't care if you don't know all the rules and you shouldn't either, all that matters is that we're here together and we get to finally see each other after some hectic few days," gojo tells you earnestly, his body close to the edge of the table, leaning forward further near you, his voice low and intimate, like what he's saying is a complete secret for your ears only. the days were hectic and finally you're getting to see each other. those tedious meetings with his family and hours of basketball that seemed to stretch on and on but finally- you're together again.

your shoulders sag, you weren't even aware that your plush figure had tensed up in the first place. when satoru saw how you relaxed your posture he picks up one of the menus, "everything okay now?" he asks you, his eyes soft as they gaze at you.

"yeah, i think so." you lick your lips, wetting them after getting dry, the intense spike of emotions throwing your body threw a little bit of a loop, dry lips, moist eyes, with shaky fingers.

gojo grins and leans back on his chair, seeming more casual than a minute ago and hands you a menu. "what are you thinking about getting? i might go for the lobster."

you're browsing the menu but when you hear him you put it down momentarily to reply, "oh please, like you care about the lobster, you just want dessert," you say grinning wide.

gojo gasps and places his hands on his chest in mock offence. "dessert? i think you mean desserts." you laugh, eyes crinkling in amusement. "i want you to enjoy this meal just as much as i'm planning to, that's why i intend to get the lobster, i don't want you to feel like you have to rush while eating just because i want dessert and i don't want you to even think about a silly thing like money." 'so he's ordering one of the biggest and expensive dishes? ...that does sound like satoru actually.' although you would be none the wiser about the prices of these meals, it's one of those high-end restaurants that doesn't have the prices on the menu, satoru must have been here often enough to know how much the lobster costs compared to other dishes.

"i don't know what to do about drinks, i hear they've got a fine collection of wines, maybe we should order a couple bottles? do you like wine?" he already knows the answer to that but you don't know that. "they've also got a wide selection of spirits and non-alcoholic drinks too, i believe."

you both order what you want, making idle conversation while waiting.

by the time your food arrives satoru has tried to convince you that you should've ordered a bigger meal, you're content with your choice in the end though and it's not the most surprising that when your food does arrive there's also a side dish for you to which you didn't order.

"i didn't order this satoru," you raise an eyebrow.

gojo smirks, "i know you didn't, but i did. i didn't want you to be hungry and we haven't had lunch together in days have you been eating properly?"

"are you suggesting that because i'm eating food in my price bracket instead of yours that it's not good enough? the food you pay for is definitely better but poor people food taste good too."

he chuckles and smiles at you fondly before replying, "that's not what i'm saying and you know i'm not. I am however asking have you been eating three meals a day?" you wince. "i thought not."

"i've been busy with studies, i didn't have time to eat three meals a day every single day," you try to justify.

"that's exactly what i mean. i won't take any excuses though, you shouldn't have skipped any meals." satoru lightly scowls you but don't take it too seriously, you should have though. 'silly girl, she really can't look after herself properly. it's a good thing i'm here to keep an eye on her. she just can't be trusted on her own.'

you pout at his reasoning, it's not often that gojo reprimands you or anyone you've seen for that matter. knowing that you don't have a leg to stand on you keep quiet.

when you eat the first bite of your food you hum blissfully, so close to being a moan and it's music to satoru's ears, 'god she's adorable.' he doesn't even realise that he isn't eating until you noticed that he's unmoving. "satoru are you okay? you're not eating."

"i'm fine sweetheart just thinking about something," he responds with a smile.

"okay- if you're sure but make sure you eat soon or it'll get cold."

"yes ma'am," satoru gives you a cheeky smile and picks up his fork.

your face heats up in embarrassment and you lose any composure that you previously had. you avert you eyes and focus on the tablecloth, suddenly finding it very interesting, focusing on the material. you never knew being called something would make you feel so strange, it was the complete opposite to gojo calling you princess or sweetheart.

even though satoru picked up his fork and began eating he didn't take his eyes off you at the corner of his eye, he wanted to see your reaction to that name. he wanted to test how docile you are, his theory that you are submissive and it seems he was right, although even if he wasn't and his theory was proven wrong he'd just mold you into what he wants. 'of course she's so perfect that i don't need to change her, she's such a good girl.'

quickly ma'am leaves your head with the more delicious food you have but you can't help some negative thoughts enter your mind. everything starts to feel too good to be true, the twinkling lights and the flickering of the candle on the table, the scenery and the ambience, the delectable food and the amazing beverages, the dream company with someone who you care so very much about, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else and... it just all feels too good to be true.

'how many girls does gojo come here with? they knew who he was without giving his name. i know i'm not his girlfriend. it's not like i'm jealous it's just- i want this so bad to be special. am i one in a long line?' you have to ask, you have to know. if you're not special you need to know.

"satoru-" you start by getting his attention.

he looks up at you and sees the pensive look on your face, he puts his cutlery down and ceases eating, directing all his attention to you, "yes princess?"

"can i ask you something?" you ask, hesitant and more meekly now you have his attention.

"of course you can princess," he smiles and waits for you to ask whatever it is. he truly doesn't know what it could be right now.

"am i special? i mean- wait- not special. i mean do you take lots of girls here? they seemed to know your name already so do you? i know we're friends so it wouldn't be the same as you taking other girls here but do you take lots of girls here?"

he doesn't even try to stop the smirk that creeps onto his face, you're jealous and what's even better do you even know that you're jealous. satoru can barely contain his excitement.

not once have you brought up other girls, not once. you've never asked if it's true that he doesn't date anyone for longer than a month or that he's gone through half the school. you've never asked about the crude gossip about how big his dick is and how he's the best anyone has ever had even though he knows you've definitely heard those rumours. but right now? right now your words hint of jealously and insecurity.

satoru tells the truth as he replies simply "i haven't brought any girls here." gojo dangles the small piece of information in front of you, it isn't a question of if you'll take it and ask further questions he knows you will but he wants to hear you ask for more, it thrills him.

"you-you dont?" you ask for more explanation.

he grins, "nope," he pops the 'p'. "i go here with my family and on occasion suguru but only sometimes with suguru because it can be kind of intimate with two people," he explains and you giggle at the thought of the two of them sitting across from each other here. he carries on his explanation, "i would never go here with other girls, of course you're special," he tells you honestly and your lips part, hanging onto every word spoken.

'i'm special.' you press your lips together but the corners of your mouth still manage to lift up into a small smile. your brain then fully catches up with everything he said and your heart beats erratically, just now satoru said a dinner here between two people is intimate, he didn't word it in that exact way but if a dinner for two with suguru is intimate, a dinner for two with you might be considered intimate too. overall you're pleased with the answer you were given, gojo thinks your special and he doesn't take other girls here.

you eat the rest of your dinner without incident, enjoying every single mouthful and letting gojo know that it's tasty, thanking him. when you order dessert it's no surprise that satoru goes a bit overboard nearly buying the whole dessert menu, not that you would ever complain about a thing like that, the more time you've spent with gojo the more of a sweet tooth you've become yourself.

satoru doesn't attempt to hide the bill, he enjoys the look on your face when you see the amount in the corner of your eye. for him the money is trivial sum but to you it's shockingly high. he gets a power trip when he sees your eyes widen at the money.

"do you want to come back to mine?" satoru asks you while you leave the restaurant and you agree not thinking anything of it. he's been to yours before but you've never been to his. you don't think there's anything behind his question, you don't even consider he's suggesting something and gojo's well aware that you don't realise.

you don't speak much on your way back, you're leaning against the window and watching the city lights, it's starting to drizzle and you feel at ease in your current company, your eyes fluttering, slightly drowsily, as you hear the rain. gojo taps his fingers on the steering wheel and smiles thinking about how adorable you look right now.

the journey back to satoru's could've taken ten minutes to an hour for all you know as your mind wanders and your eyelids get heavy. when you arrive and he parks up and you get out of the car, you shiver a bit as the cold air hits you, giving you a shock and getting rid of any lingering tiredness and satoru walks around the car to be next to you. he pouts as he bends down to look at you, his sunglasses still in his jacket pocket, "pretty ladies aren't just supposed to have their chair pulled out for them, they're meant to have doors open for them too."

you giggle and bump against him, "flattery will get you nowhere mister." it does. luckily you'll be able to blame your flushed face due to the bitterly cold if gojo questions you on it.

"let's get inside sweetheart, it's cold." 'sweetheart' something else you can luckily blame on the weather. you're not expecting satoru to randomly touch your face though so you think you're going to be okay.

you follow him inside and the size of his place is a large as you thought it would be, you're learning to expect everything he owns is extravagant. the interior however is something you take note of, you've only entered one room but it seems barren. the walls are drab, painted slate grey and off white with only the bare necessaries of furniture and nothing more. devoid of any human presence. you're not even sure if he's lived here long and when he looks at you he can see those unnecessary cogs turning in your head again. "is something on your mind princess?"

"um-" you don't really know if you should bring it up but your curiosity gets the better of you. "have you lived here long?"

"a couple of years," satoru leans against the wall and smirks.

"i just- there's not a lot of stuff in here, it looks like you still have unpacking to do."

he pushes himself off the wall and goes over to you, "do you think i should get more stuff? like cushions for the the sofa and posters on the wall?" you feel gojo's breath against your skin as he leans down to talk in your ear quietly, it's so intimate, your mind draws a blank finding it hard to think with him so close to you. satoru is playful and he's teasing and you've heard rumours that he's a flirt but he's never been this close to you before, you've never been able to smell his cologne and been this close to feel his warm breath against your neck. "maybe we should go shopping together and you could help me pick out some stuff?" you're holding your breath, not being able to breathe anymore. "or maybe it would be better if you just stayed here and brought your stuff along? you do always complain about your rent being high."

you take a sharp intake of air and move a step away from him so you can look back at him in the eye. mentally shaking your head to forgot about his remark. 'did gojo just say about me being his roommate? i'd get to see him everyday... wait... i'd have to hear him all the time when he brings home girls and does he even clean after himself properly?'

"did you have too much to drink tonight satoru? you know you shouldn't drink and drive," you reply with light tone, reminding yourself not to think too hard about the situation, almost being successful in your mission.

satoru just watches you and smirks as he sees you try to ignore his comment. "anyway i don't think you need a roommate." 'roommate? yeah i don't need one of those...'

"and for all i know you might steal my food from the fridge and not wash up the dishes. plus i always forget my towel when i shower." you say the last sentence flippantly, but satoru's mind fills with thoughts of you... 'walking out of the shower into the living room with a small towel on, barely covering your body, body damp with water dripping down your neck, onto your shoulders down to the valley of your breasts...' he's getting hard just imagining it.

"are you okay satoru? you're a bit red." you question and the topic of conversation changes.

satoru moves back away from you, "i'm okay princess, probably thirsty. do you want a drink?" he's glad of this change, he'd like to tease you more but there'd be a real chance you'd see his erection, he could probably tease you about it if you'd notice it but he doesn't think you're ready yet. he wants to make sure you're relaxed and comfortable. you've got a long night ahead of you.

"sure."

following him into the kitchen you take a seat on one of the kitchen counter stools. "what would you like to drink?"

not wanting to ask for something he might not have or cause a fuss you respond with, "whatever you're having is good with me."

'she's so predictable.' he pours both of you your favourite drink, he knows all your preferences, of course he's stocked up on everything you like. he hands it to you and you smile wide, "this is like my all time favourite drink, i didn't know you liked it too."

in situations like this he switches his answers up from time to time not wanting you to get suspicious. "do you like these too? the amount i get through weekly is crazy." he makes sure to separate things into two categories, things you've told him and things you haven't but he knows anyway. he wouldn't want to mention in conversation about how he remembers that you like these drinks when you've never told so.

satoru likes when he tells you things that subtly suggest, 'look how much we have in common. we like all the same music and drinks!'

he prefers when he tells you he remembers something you told him, you quietly replying to him once about how much it means to you because "no one has ever cared about me to remember something so mundane about me." he swears that he'll remember everything about you, he swore he'd never forget a single thing.

gojo takes his place next to you, sitting on the stool and purposely brushing his hand against your rib, under your breast, and he gets pleasure from seeing you straighten up your back.

you both enjoy your drinks and kick your legs in the air. "i feel bad because you've been driving me around all night. when i go i'll get an uber or cab or something."

gojo frowns, "are you going now?"

"n-no! unless you want me to?" you don't want to overstay your welcome and you have a feeling that if gojo wanted you to go he'd let you know and you want to look around the other rooms if you have a chance, perhaps not his bedroom for privacy reasons but you want to see if his other rooms have plain decoration and if the bathroom has any noteworthy products in, you have always wanted to know how his skin looks so good all the time.

"i'm definitely not telling you to leave princess... in fact why don't you stay the night? you can stay in the spare room. no pressure though. you don't have to but there might not be anywhere you can get a lift because of how late it is and how it's the other side of town adding that all onto it's now pouring down. i'd offer to take you back myself but i'm not a huge fan of driving in the dark, especially if the roads are slippy 'cause to the rain. it's your choice. i'm sure you'll get someone to take you eventually but it might be less effort to stay here and leave tomorrow?"

he knows you don't want to wait forever getting home, he knows you want to take him up on his offer but something is stopping you, he doesn't know what is it for a moment until he figures it. "it's absolutely no bother, i don't mind and i've got clothes that you can wear, i think i wore them to lounge about in on tuesday so i haven't had time to wash them yet but i don't think that's a huge problem. i wear them a lot but they're too big on me, you should fit in them."

that small comment might have upset you more if it came from someone else but you don't think gojo meant it maliciously, you think it came from a good place, however you couldn't help thinking about it, the words 'they're too big on me, you should fit in them' ring around your head, about how you should fit in them. you know that satoru didn't mean anything by that but you've never worn someone else's clothes before so it gives you a bit of anxiety and satoru can see that.

gojo speaks again in an attempt to stop you from other thinking. "if you did want to go i'll give you the money to get a cab but if not you can stay, it's no problem, in fact i would enjoy it." your eyes snap up to look at him and you see a soft smile adorning his face. "we could watch that new film you were telling me about and i don't mean to brag but my shower is amazing, nothing compares, even five star hotels." you crack a smile but your mind still lingers on the clothes. satru can see that still not fully convinced and there's something stopping you, "is this about the clothes?" you shift your eyes away nervously not wanting to admit how you clung to a few words. gojo stops himself from sighing in exasperation. "if you'd feel more comfortable keeping the blouse and skirt on you can, you do look good in them but you shouldn't overthink about wearing my clothes. i know i said they're not clean but i've only worn them once since they've been washed it's not like they're diseased." you giggle and satoru gets less exasperated after hearing you laugh.

"they'll fit you if that's what you're worried about and honestly even if they are a little tight you'd still look good in my shirt, it would just hang onto your hips a bit." your mouth parts, the previous throwaway remark being swiped away like smoke by his hand, instead being replaced by insurance that it will fit and if by the off chance it doesn't then it's not the end of the world. he hopes it doesn't fit.

it quells your mind and you agree to stay. "thank you satoru, i'd appreciate staying, over the hassle of getting home."

he grins at your answer, hands itching to take off your blouse. "do you want a shower now so we can watch that film?"

"sounds good." you follow him into the bathroom and it looks like the living room, crystal clean, newly moved into, the only difference is his electric toothbrush on the side and moisturiser. gojo doesn't leave when he shows you into the room, he doesn't leave when he makes a quick explanation about how the shower works, in fact he didn't tell you at all. instead of telling you he turns the shower on, adjusting the handle to change the temperature to the one you prefer and pressing a button next to the handle, keeping his finger on it for a few seconds before removing it, changing the water pressure. "here you go princess," he grins and turns back to you. you think to yourself about how you could of figured out how to work the shower but you don't vocalise it, you've been in enough showers to know how they work but satoru's one is probably different if he did it himself.

"oh, the shower wash and shampoo is there, i don't know if you want to wash your hair but it's there if you need it. you'll have to use my one." he then leaves, before placing a towel on the sink for you to grab when you get out. he owns all the soaps and scents you use but you can't use them, he doesn't want to share. if he gave you them you'd be suspicious and there would be less for him to use when he misses your smell, groaning in the shower after he gets home from basketball his hands massaging your shampoo into his scalp, one hand in his hair the other fisting his cock. he'll buy you new perfumes and soaps for the holidays, he would never change any of your signature scents but you deserve more expensive products in his eyes.

a part of you still can't help but think about the clothes but when you step into the shower your eyes close and body relaxes, somehow it's the perfect way you like your showers. all of it melts away and as you pick up gojo's shower wash your body heats up inside. you're going to use the same soap as gojo uses and once you recognise how you reacted you shake your head to get away from all those thoughts. everybody at your university would likely have the same reaction as you but you're not just anyone, satoru is your dear friend and he deserves more respect than you just gave him. you don't spend long showering, wanting to not use his soap for a long period and you end up not washing your hair.

you dry yourself but panic as you can't find clothes anywhere, did satoru forget? maybe the plan was for you to put your clothes back on until he's gave you them. opening the door ajar you peek outside, you're planning on seeing if you can hear satoru, asking him about the clothes but before you can you see a shirt on the floor next to the door. picking it up, you close the door quickly and breathe deeply, glad that you noticed the shirt before calling out to gojo.

when you start to slip into the shirt you feel a repeat of the shower, it smells so much like him. you didn't realise when you agreed to this you'd have to be concerned about this but you are and it's making you feel guilty. like you're no better than those girls who throw themselves at him, only based on appearances alone. you put it on as quickly as you can and try to ignore the smell but the entire room is filled with it. it smells different to the soap, it smells more like him, 'his natural scent?' you ponder. it effects you differently than it would his fans though, they'd be filled with thoughts that are less than appropriate, like being pushed into his pillow while he's taking them from behind or not wasting time with getting completely nude but to you they're innocent, the smell is comforting like when he surprises you by suddenly grabbing you from behind or crowding your space as you worked on projects together. it's not the smell of satoru gojo, famous 'womaniser', 'manwhore', 'heartbreaker', with a reputation that would make a nymphomaniac blush, it's the smell of satoru gojo- your gojo. and annoyingly your gojo, your friend, smells really good.

satoru was right about the shirt. because of how tall he is it reached down to your thigh, you were slightly worried about accidentally flashing him but it was long enough not to worry too much about it. he was also right about how it clung to you. even though it clung to you it didn't make you feel uncomfortable, the fabric stretched a tad around your hips and chest but it didn't make you feel uneasy, you doubt satoru would even notice. he, of course, does. and takes great pleasure in it.

you fold up the towel and leave it in the laundry basket. exiting the room you hear satoru and go to him. he hears you near him entering the room and looks up from the sofa, "you okay?"

you smile sweetly and nod your head, "i'm okay, it was a good shower."

he returns your smile, "i'm glad."

satoru doesn't hide his staring as you move to the sofa to sit down next to him. you're so cute and you're so hot all he can do is stare and he's so thankful that you agreed to come to his and stay. he's never let anyone wear his clothes before, it's a boundary that he doesn't cross. his previous relationships weren't allowed to wear his clothes, if it was cold outside and someone didn't bring a coat he wouldn't give them his, he never cared about them that much to do things like that but when you walk in wearing his clothes his heart jumps with joy. he never thought about how much he'd love seeing you wear his shirt, it's not just a shirt it's a statement, you're his, he owns you. it barely covers your thighs and he knows if he gets you to move and bend down, even if only slightly, everything will be on display. his shirt is clinging to your curves and he's practically salivating as your hips look so grabbable.

you're none the wiser of this and when he turns on the film you previously spoken about he was paying more attention to you than the television, every so often shuffling a little bit closer to you. he doesn't wait long, it's been about twenty minutes through the film before he puts his arm around you, he slings his arm around your shoulder when you walk together sometimes so it's not the first time this has happened. this is regular behaviour in your eyes.

forgetting his arm is even around you you become invested in what you're watching, you were right to mention it to gojo, it's exceeded your expectations. you have no reaction to satoru taking his arm off your shoulder and instead placing it on your plush thigh. he has more of a reaction that you do, biting his lip to stop any noises that could come out because you would likely notice if he groaned. after a couple of minutes of his hands being still he starts moving, making small patterns on your skin and stroking you. his hand gets higher, reaching the hem of his shirt before stopping and leaving his hand there.

as the film ends you become more aware of where gojo's hand is resting but you choose not to say anything. you're flustered but you think he's put his hand there absentmindedly while watching the film so you keep quiet.

"did you enjoy the film princess?"

you smile brightly at him and respond, "i did! did you?"

satoru starts making patterns on your skin lightly again. tapping his finger on his chin with his other hand like he's thinking and making a noise, "hmmm i did enjoy it although i was distracted through most of it."

that catches your attention wondering what it was that he was focused on instead. "oh, what was it?"

he smirks, "it's hard to pay attention to anything other than how pretty you look right now."

satoru had called you a pretty lady earlier tonight but this feels more personal, your brain refusing to work and it's exhilarating for him to see it happen.

he cups your cheek in his hand so you're making direct eye contact with each other, he doesn't want to look away from him. "do you want this sweetheart?"

your heart is pounding in your chest like a hummingbirds wings and you worry that satoru can hear it, swallowing before replying, "w-what do you mean?"

he leans closer to you and feel like your body is buzzing, tiny zaps of electricity shooting through your veins at his proximity to you, "do you want me?"

"i-i," you're stuttering over your words and nothing makes sense. do you want him? want him to do what?

"sweetheart do you want me?" he reiterates putting more emphasis on the 'want' and slivering his hand up further along your thigh, inching under your, his, shirt. you wait with bated breath, wondering if he'll go further, wondering if he'll say more.

"satoru are you... are you coming onto me?" you're quiet when you ask, you're unsure, you worry that you're wrong and gojo can't help but laugh.

"obviously i'm coming onto you. i thought that was pretty clear."

"you are?" you're still quiet.

"yeah," he smirks at you however your eyes drift away from him feeling shy but gojo's not having that, he pats your cheek before saying, "look at me princess." you do what he says and make eye contact with him again, "there she is, "he smiles at you and kisses your nose making your whole body heat up, your lips part open in shock and he smirks.

"i'm going to ask again, do you want this?" lowering his voice he continues speaking, "because i want this."

'he wants this. he wants me... but do i want him? everyone wants him. do i want him? if we do this it might never be the same again, we might stop being friends... satoru is really attractive, he's hot, he can get anyone he wants but will this mess everything up... i don't know.'

he can see those unnecessary cogs again, how silly, how useless.

he doesn't wait for you to answer, he's given you time and instead of answering you're thinking, overthinking, not being a good girl at all. instead of waiting any longer he closes the space between you two and slots his mouth against yours, licking your lips in a silent request to open your mouth, you oblige his request without any more thought and just simply do what feels right, do what feels good, and kissing satoru feelings good.

his lips are soft, probably softer than yours but you can't tell with them against each other. imaging the kiss you'd think gojo would kiss someone slowly, languidly. you imagine he wouldn't put a lot of effort or passion in the kiss but it would still be the best kiss anyone has ever had. you never thought he'd be a passionate kisser. you know from rumours that his relationships don't last long, it seems to you that he's never been invested in any of them so what's the point in kissing someone like you can't get enough of them when he's going to move on to the next person in a week, so what's the point of kissing passionately but right now that theory is blown out the window. his movement is rushed, it's hungry, it's unexpected. you didn't think he'd be so greedy. his skilled tongue is against yours and he's completely dominating the kiss. satoru's not even stopping for air and he's not letting you either, he's been waiting for this for so long now and a stupid reason like needing to breathe isn't going to stop him.

satoru's leaving wet kisses down your jaw and pulse point anywhere that's visible he's kissing. leaving little nips in his wake and trying to find a good space for him to start leaving marks and hickeys so everyone will know you're his.

the hand that was holding onto your thigh squeezes gently and a shiver runs down his spine because you feel so soft. he pushes you down on the sofa and he's above you looking down, knocking your thighs open and kneeling between them. he's swears he's never seen a more beautiful sight. you get nervous when you look at him, the way he looks at you tenderly with those vibrant blue eyes, that unbeknownst to you hold so much love for you.

you're gasping at every new sensation gojo's giving you, never having felt like this before as his continues his path up your thigh moving the shirt up along with it and now he's finally touching your plush body he thinks he may be in heaven with a gorgeous goddess with him and the more he moves the shirt up the more he thinks so. both of his hands moving to your hips and pressing his fingers into your skin watching them spill over and it's making him dizzy. never has he felt anyone with your body before and it's driving him crazy. he wants more, he needs more.

satoru brushes his knuckles over your underwear making you whine and he smirks, "feel good princess?"

"uh huh," you reply nodding your head up and down rapidly, head fuzzy and wanting more, wanting him.

"yeah?" he asks smugly. " ' course you do." he taps your hips just above the line of your underwear, "lift up for me sweetheart." you move up so he can pull down your underwear and he pockets them in his jeans saving them for later. he doesn't waste anytime as he unzips his jeans and takes them off, pulling his shirt off after, the only reason of the shirt being off is that he wants you to see how hot he looks and to check him out, he knows he looks good and he wants you to know it too.

he presses two fingers into you and you moan. "i'm going to prepare you sweetheart." it wasn't a question but you nod your head anyway. his slender fingers are longer than yours, reaching placing you can't, he's leisurely taking his time, watching as you squirm, eyes starting to glaze over.

only after four minutes and he's had enough of this leisurely pace fingering though, he just has to have his dick inside you now. he would promise to go slow but he knows he can't promise that. you don't see his dick before he goes into you, if you did you'd say something but instead you feel it. more girth than most and nine inches long thus as he starts to thrust into you you let out a moan that soon fades into a silent scream.

with each inch you feel that it must be it but then there's more, he knows he should've spent more time getting you ready for him but the idea of waiting even a minute longer was torture.

at the same time of being fully inside you, you wince, and satoru places a chaste kiss on your lips. there's a fleeting thought as you wince about how you think his cock has broken you, so far he's in your guts. he keeps his hold on you as he thrusts shallowly a few times testing the waters and playfully pinching your nipple to see your reaction.

you try to speak but the words get caught in your throat and it doesn't take long for gojo to speed up, not even a minute and he's already thrusting hard and fast into you, a creamy white ring already forming at the base of his cock. his pace doesn't falter, in fact it gets more rough as satoru sees your face. it's hard for you to even think, you've never been this full before, you're eyes are glazed over and you've got your mouth open drooling a bit, he thinks you look so adorably dumb. "look at you princess you look so dumb right now, so stupid. you don't even have one thought in your head do you? it's so fucking hot. not thinking or worrying, all that matters is this, you don't need to think i'll do it for you."

satoru lifts up one of your thighs and puts it on his shoulder, at the new position it feels like he's reaching even deeper. you whine so loud that people walking outside would hear. "my cock's making you lose braincells huh?" he grins, tapping your cheek gently to get your attention. you look up at him in a daze and he sniggers. "not a thought behind those eyes."

at the new angle you try to grab hold of his arm but struggle to focus losing grip straight away, squealing, "ah it feels s' good 'toru!"

satoru is pleased that you've spoken something, that you've been able to form an legible sentence, he's even more pleased at how good you sound squealing, knowing that he's the one who's made you sound like that. however more than all of that he's overjoyed that you called him 'toru' it sounds so perfect from your mouth.

"i know, i know, you're so good for me princess, such a good girl." he keeps slamming into you at a brutal pace and he wants you to come undone around him soon before he cums. "hear that princess, your pussy is so wet and sticky for me. she knows what she wants huh," he grins and starts pinching your nipples, watching as your eyes roll back.

he's fucking you so rough that your body is moving up and down on the sofa, jiggling with each thrusts, and as he watches your body bounce he gets closer and closer. he normally lasts so much longer but he can't help it with you, it's impossible for him to keep his regular time when your warm wet walls are wrapping around his cock, when he's inside you.

satoru can't wait any longer removing his hand from your nipple and bringing it to your clit, rubbing harshly as you shriek from the sudden extra stimulation, as you get tighter around him he sucks his teeth so close to cumming, "are you going to cum for me sweetheart?"

you don't say anything, you don't have time to answer him because instead the coil in the stomach that has been winding up for the last half an hour snaps, with the added help of gojo touching your clit, you arch your back, and your eyesight goes fuzzy seeing white dots. you've never had such an intense orgasm before, it drowned out noise and made everything hard to hear, you didn't even know cumming could do that. everyone was right about sex with satoru.

feeling you spasm around him was even for him to finish as well, a few more thrusts into you and he lost it cumming too. if he was a better man he would've pulled out but satoru knew that he would never pull out when it comes to you. he's seen birth control in your bathroom before and when he saw it he frowned, he hopes that you missed it today. either way he's making sure to bury himself in you as deep as he can get hoping that even if you did take birth control today it won't be good enough to stop his intention- his deep desire to breed you. thoughts racing through his head, 'silly girls don't need to go to university they should just stay at home. i've got more than enough money to look after her. she'd look so good, her body even softer than it already is. she'd make such a good mama.' as he comes his body goes taut and he groans loudly saying your name and stilling.

you're both catching your breathe, not speaking for a minute, recovering for the most mindblowing sex both of you have ever had.

he wants to stay where he is but he knows he can't. when he moves you whimper, feeling empty all of a sudden, and it makes his ego rise, "sorry princess, i'm going to get you a towel okay." satoru kisses your forehead before rising and getting a towel from the bathroom, coming back and kneeling, swiping the towel gently over your inner thighs and pussy. kissing your hip and looking back at you, "are you okay?"

you're breathless as you reply, "yeah."

satoru smirks, "that's good."

you cover your face with your hands, timid with the way gojo's focused on you. putting the towel down he holds onto your hands and removes them from your face so he can see you again, smiling at you sweetly and kissing your forehead again.

"satoru what's going to happen now?" you're almost silent, if he wasn't so laser focused on every movement and thing you do he might not have heard.

"we could watch another film but it's getting late."

"no... i mean with us..."

satoru furrows his eyebrows, not understanding the question. "us?"

"yeah i-i mean are we s-still friends?"

"friends?" he looks at you like you've grown an extra head and your stomach sinks, if you knew this would've been the outcome you would've done something differently.

you don't want to lose gojo, you really don't want to lose gojo. you don't want to cry in front of him, you don't want it to get misconstrued and him to think that you're trying to manipulate him or change his mind but the idea of not having satoru in your life is heartbreaking. wait... heartbreaking? however the tears still come and the words get lodged in your throat. you manage to get some words out but it's barely audible with how erratic your breathing is becoming and how you keep swallowing every five seconds. "can i do anything to make us be friends again? i don't want to lose you." you're sniffling and you know you sound needy and probably desperate too but that's not your main focus right now.

"lose me?" he squints and gently wipes the tears from your face. "why would you lose me?" he cups you cheek, "princess how do you feel about me?"

your mouth parts open, you're glad that he's suggesting that you're not going to lose him but that's completely overshadowed with the question he's asked. you stay silent, not moving a muscle, how do you feel about him?

'satoru's my friend, my best friend! so... i feel that he's my friend? did i feel this way about my other friends? i lost my other friends and it was awful, i hated it but if i lost satoru... i think it would be worse than awful. maybe soul crushing is accurate... heartbreaking sounds more accurate. can someone be heartbroken about a friend? can i?'

you can't say anything, you don't know what to say, all your thoughts are muddled and you feel lost. gojo's still cupping your cheek, now stroking it with his thumb. "alright then princess, let me tell you." you don't know how he's going to tell you, you don't even understand yourself. "you don't see me as a friend anymore." he says simply and your eyes widen, and he holds onto your elbow with no force with his other hand to stop you if you try to draw away.

"do you know why i know that princess?" satoru asks you, his voice tethered, borderlining on husky. unsure you shake your head. "because friends don't act like you do. they don't get jealous about the thought of me taking girls out to restaurants, they don't check me out when they think i'm not looking. friends don't make a photo of us together as their lockscreen and wallpaper-"

at that you interrupt him, "you have me on your lockscreen too!" but he puts his fingers to your lips to gesture for you to keep quiet.

"not finished yet sweetheart. friends don't send each other good morning texts as soon as they wake up and they don't memorise my order at cafés we go to. friends don't stare at my lips and compliment my eyes all the time. friends don't look at me longingly. friends don't go to romantic restaurants alone together."

he pauses watching with rapt attention as you look down at your lap, he doesn't make you look up at him this time and waits for your response. when you decide to look back at him you calm your breathing as much as you can, "b-but you do those things too satoru..."

satoru grins brightly, "yeah i do, sooo... that would mean what?" he presses you to answer him.

"do you- do you- am i more than a friend to you satoru?"

"bingo!"

you feel like you're dreaming, nothing feels real. you could never of guessed that gojo feels that way or that you're his type. "is that why we had sex?"

satoru chuckles, not answering but instead replying, "you're so cute!" it makes your face heat up. "do you want me to tell you a secret?" you're nervous and dubious but you nod your head softly. gojo moves even closer than you, "you're more than just my friend princess," he leans closer to your ear and whispers "i love you."

you blink at him- once, twice, three times. you understand now that gojo is more than a friend to you and you recognise it's been this way for a very long time but through all his speech you didn't consider he felt the same. maybe that's why you didn't understand your own feelings, because if gojo acts the same as you do and calls you his friend you never questioned about if you really felt friendship towards him.

how long as satoru known all this and has kept you in the dark? what if he choose not to ever tell you? would you end up in a relationship with someone else only to break their heart when you finally realise that you're in love with satoru. your mouth is dry and you lick your lips swallowing to wet them, your voice still sounds a little hoarse though as you say, "why didn't you tell me?"

"because you'll understand and accept your own feelings and mine. i wanted to tell you but i know you, i knew that you would just deny it and ignore your feelings and it could result in something changing with us and that was the last thing i wanted sweetheart, it would kill me but i knew that it was time. i knew that you'd accept both of our feelings," he asserts and he's so close to you that you can feel his body heat.

you know what he's saying is true but you can't help but pout. "how do you know me better than myself satoru?"

satoru chuckles. well he does spend a great deal of his time loving everything you do...

"plus i couldn't keep it in any longer princess, i swear i was going mad. i would probably have folded soon and tell you," he whines and you giggle.

you take a deep breath and look at him straight in the eye, your whole body feeling fuzzy, "satoru i love you."

'yeah i know.'

gojo grins and wipes his forehead dramatically, "thank god." he holds onto the nape of your neck and pulls you to his lips so he can kiss you hungrily, as he pulls away he asks "do you still want to sleep in the spare room tonight? my room is more comfortable... and there may be some boxes on the bed that i haven't moved."

your eyes widen, "say you're joking 'toru!"

he throws his hands up and grins "well..."

you don't stay mad at him long, you've both confessed your love to each other it's not like you can be annoyed at him, you grin back, "i can't believe you."

"i swear it wasn't planned just a happy coincidence... that i chose not to tell you about... but it's okay because we can just use that room for any of your extra stuff when you move in."

you open your mouth wide in disbelief, "i cannot believe you satoru!"

"aw come on you know you love me!" he chuckles and you glare at him before be pokes your cheek and you start laughing too.

[goldsbitch]

Kiss with a fist

To his twins, the world is ending. To Lando, it’s another exhausting reminder that parenting might actually be harder than racing.

or - No boys allowed near the girls from now on, especially not his rivals' son.

warning: dad! Lando, none, fun, domestic 3k word count stand alone part of Norris Family Polaroids

//

There is a loud crying sound coming from the room the seven year olds share and Lando has never felt so old in his bones. He'd just come back from an exhausting race and those don't exactly get easier with age. In times like these, he longs for the days when he was in his first years in F1, blissfully unaware of just how capable and seamless his body was. Anyway. No time to sulk in. One of his daughters is in distress and the day he does not respond to that will be the day he willingly puts himself up in jail.

He gets up from the couch and rushes over to the kids room. The crying is not stopping and when he enters it somehow starts clicking all in. He kneels down and hugs Maya, who looks like is determined to cry her eyes out. Meanwhile, Olivia is sitting on her bed, exceptionally quiet and has never looked more suspicious in her life, ever.

"We need to keep a closer eye on Liv, I think she's teasing Maya too much these days" he recalls Y/N saying over the phone one late evening. It was an early morning call for him, due to the timezones, but he remembers it clearly. He brushed it off, telling his wife that it's getting late over back home and that she should go and get some sleep while she can. But right now, assessing the current situation, he is not so sure about his previous judgement. Long gone is the time he was scared of being a bad parent, of fucking up. He's come to realization that he will inevitably fuck up - not in the same way as his parents, but in a completely new and original way. The fact they were blessed with twins making it that more likely to happen. He's hugging and caressing one daughter, while eyeing the other. Olivia has this look in her face and his stomach sinks down deeply, because he has seen this look before. In the mirror, many times. He was what most would consider a peaceful quiet child. Unless it was him and his sister alone. He'd tease her mercilessly, wait for her to start crying and then play innocent. His parents fell for that so easily.

And now, he's looking at his own daughter, who stares right back at him, and they both know. He shakes his head, making sure Maya does not see and while it does make him mad, it makes him less mad that it should. Because ultimately, he knows that him and his sisters grew up just fine and this teasing eventually stopped. Still, his other daughter is wallowing in his arms and he can't ignore that.

Maya is the first one to speak. "Daddy...I don't want to have a baby," she leans back from his embrace and pouts at him in a way only seven year old know how. So raw, honest and unfiltered.

Lando must have misheard her. “Come again, sweetheart?”

He brushes few tears away. At least she’s not sobbing anymore and is focused on trying to get the words out. “I don’t want to have a baby, I’m too young for that”.

It’s hard not to agree with that. She is seven years old.

He smiles gently, trying to somehow untangle this. "Why would you have a baby?" Another stream of tears and cries follows and she wraps herself in his arms again. He sighs, as it is does not get easier with time to hear your little daughter cry and he looks up to Olivia, who's still sitting on her bed. He's not mad per say, but he's silently asking her to help him find an answer to this all. This is the first time that Liv's expression shakes up and cracks away, hinting on either guilt or at least a sorrow she feels at the sight of her own twin crying. Good, Lando thinks. He tries as much as he can to avoid automatically blaming her for anything without having enough information about the situation. But, his it's hard to ignore his intuition.

He turns to Maya again. "Sweetie, why would you have a baby? You're so young?"

Maya's voice trips over her own sobs, but she finally speaks again. "I...I kissed a boy today."

Now - hold on. First of all, why is his seven year old daughter kissing some boys? He feels himself tense up. Of course he knew this days would come, but he was silently hoping for ten more years of keeping his little angels as they were. Just young, tiny kids running around playing tag. Not kissing boys, girls or whomever. "Who did you kiss?" he can't stop himself from asking, silently hoping he does not know the parent of said boy, because there is no way of preventing himself from making the "concerned parent phone call". Monte Carlo is small, there is only few nursery schools around here. It's an everyone sort of knows everyone kind of situation. "Maya, don't worry - you're not in trouble," he adds, trying to make sure he keeps up on having his daughter willing to tell him stuff like that. She is not in trouble - the boy is. Lando used to be a boy. He knows what's up.

Maya's lip is trembling and her eyes are wet. He can't bear that sight. "Sweetheart, you're not pregnant. I'm sure of that," he consoles her and after few moments of deep thought, she seems to believe him. She ask once more for confirmation. His answered is interrupted by his other daughter, who now looks equally concerned as Maya was just a minute ago.

"But she is pregnant. That's how it works. Boys at the playground said so," she speaks, oh-so-sure of her claims. He face is serious and has a sense of fatality around it. He begins to understand how other children would fall so deeply under this spell.

Ah, Lando thinks and the penny drops. He runs his hands through his hair and has to chuckle just a bit. He doesn't want Maya to think he’s making fun of her, but the absurdity of the situation is too much. He leans back on his heels, looking between his two daughters. Maya’s face is still flushed from crying, and Olivia is sitting with her arms crossed, looking like a pint-sized prophet of doom.

He clears his throat, trying to sound as serious as possible. "Okay, let's get something straight out of the way. Kissing someone is not how you get pregnant," he speaks and his mind briefly flashes to the panic he and Y/N felt the moment they found out she was pregnant with the twins. It's been a long time ago and enlightening journey since, but he can somewhat understand the sentiment. He tries to ground his children down some more. "Look at me and Mommy. We kiss all the time and she is not pregnant, right?"

Olivia seems intrigued. "So, how do you get pregnant?" He looks at her and curses himself for walking right into that one. It's clear in her face and maneurism that she is going to be a very difficult teenager one day. "Ask Mommy when she comes back," he blurts out, not at all prepared for that talk. He's also already mentally ordering apology bouquet for his dear wife for throwing her under a bus like that. He turns to Maya again. "Anyway, you don't worry. You're not pregnant," he caresses her cheek and once she really does seem more calm, he asks. "Now - who kissed you?"

Maya glances at Olivia, and Lando notices his other daughter watching with laser focus. Olivia’s lips are pressed tightly together, her expression that of someone who knows something and is dying to spill it.

“Do you want me to tell him?” Olivia asks suddenly, looking unable to contain herself any longer.

“Liv,” Lando says with a sigh, shooting her a warning look.

“What? I already know who it was,” Olivia says, folding her arms across her chest with a dramatic flair that only a seven-year-old can pull off. He averts his gaze to Maya, who looks like is ready to fess up.

"You're not in trouble," he says and hopes he can keep up on his promise.

She tenses up and something tells Lando he actually does not want to know. "It was Lucas." Too late. “Lucas,” he repeats, his voice carefully neutral.

Maya nods slowly, her cheeks flushing pink. “Lucas Verstappen,” she specifies. Lando feels his stomach drop. Max Verstappen’s son. Of all the boys in the world, it had to be Lucas, the mini version of the Verstappen gang and what one would call a true heir of their infamous blunt approach to life. If this is true, it marks the beginning of a lifetime of headaches. His poor, sweet little daughter - one he'll have to protect until forever.

"And she kissed him too!" Olivia nearly screams out, letting her opinion on this known by the judgy tone.

Lando eyes grow wide and he silently thankful for Olivia spilling it like it is. Maya's guilt ridden face gives it away all. "Maya, honey, aren't you a little young to be kissing boys?" he asks rhetorically, because of course - his little angel should definitely not be doing that.

"I would never kiss a boy! They are gross and annoying," Olivia blurts out, ever-so-competitive. He's not sure what scares him more, Maya who's running around kissing boys or Olivia, who reminds him of himself more each passing day. Let's see about that, Liv, when in ten years I'm warding off boys from your window, he thinks, but does not say it out loud.

"He kissed me first!" Maya defends herself and snuggles into Lando's embrace more. He sighs. It's not been the quiet chill down he expected to return to.

"Okay, ladies. Let's all calm down. How about some ice-cream?" he offers, hoping that cheap bribing will buy him some time to think. The sudden cheers confirm it and he's adding another five flowers to the bouquet for Y/N, knowing she won't condone this.

//

He's watching his daughters munch on the impromptu ice-cream sundae, both of them sitting silently on the kitchen counter, apparently dead set on destroying their pajamas with colorful stains.

The name Verstappen still rings in his ears. They're suppose to have a little family get together tomorrow and for some reason, that's starting to increasingly bother him.

He excused himself for a moment and goes to the balcony, making what he fears is one of the first distressed "my daughter kissed someone" call in his life - and not the last one. Headache. That's what it is.

The phone rings twice before Max picks up, his voice sounding tired and politely annoyed.

“Lando. What’s up, mate? Is it urgent, I'm kind of dead tonight.”

Lando takes a deep breath, trying to sound calm. Oh, you and your son will be dead very soon.

"Hi Max, yeah, it sort of is," he murmurs, trying to think his strategy through. "We have to cancel tomorrow, something came up." Genius. That's who he is. Now, he just has to move his family away from Monte Carlo and make sure Maya never meets Lucas Verstappen ever again. Problem solved.

Max doesn’t miss a beat. "Cancel? What do you mean cancel? Lucas has been talking about seeing the girls all week." Of course he has. Lando groans internally. Of course Lucas has been excited. This wasn’t just any hangout. This was apparently the next chapter in their little playground romance.

"Yeah, not gonna happen, mate," Lando insists, leaning on the balcony railing, running a hand through his hair, overlooking at his dearest angels, who will need his infinite protection. "We can’t do it. Something came up. Okay, bye."

Max is quick enough to speak before he manages to hang up. "Wait, what? If it's a problem for you and Y/N, we can just take care of the kids, no problem."

Is it the whole Verstappen family that wants to take his precious daughters? Lando knows he might be overreacting, but he is a tired man with a resposibility over two seven year old. Cut him some slack.

"No. Canceled. Bye," he says and kills the call. There, all sorted. He immediately goes on figuring out some back up activity for the family, something that will sound so exciting that they will all forget about the Verstappens.

Max calls him right back and he does not pick it up.

The young father goes on putting the girls down, everyone is now calm and there are no more pregnancy scares. He is good at this. Everything is great. Just as the girls are tucked into bed, eyelids drooping and calm finally restored, Lando’s phone buzzes once more. He glances over at it, expecting Max to be trying again. Instead, he sees Y/N’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hi, love,” Lando answers, trying to sound casual. He winks at his daughters, who are always excited when Mommy's around. “How’s dinner?”

“It’s nice,” Y/N replies, but her tone has an edge, the one where he knows she’s about to interrogate him. “How’s everything at home? The girls okay?”

“They’re fine,” Lando says quickly and decides to leave the kids bedroom, so that he can pace around, as he always does when Y/N sounds like that. “All good here. No problems.”

There’s a beat of silence. He can feel her narrowing her eyes through the phone. He can hear the rush of the restaurant she's at, so her calling him must have a pretty good reason.

"Mm hm. So why did you cancel tomorrow’s hangout with Max and his family?"

Lando rolls his eyes, his brain scrambling for an answer while cursing Max mentally. Ugh. “Uh… something came up?”

"What "something," exactly?" Y/N presses, her voice filled with wonder.

"Just… things," Lando says vaguely, mentally kicking himself.

"Things," Y/N repeats flatly. "Lando, Max is suspicious. He just called me, distressed, asking what was going on, and now he thinks you’re mad at him."

This fires him up again. "Well, I am mad at him! So he got that right." Saying this makes him feel like the child in this scenario. Headache. Again.

Y/N sighs. "Did something happen on the track?" he asks patiently.

"What?" he asks, confused. He shakes his head. "No, no, it's um...The girls don't want to meet Lucas tomorrow, that's all."

Even he can't believe his tone.

"The same girls that spent the whole of yesterday excited about the bouncy castle they have at home?" she speaks with almost annoyed tone now. Lando groans, resting his forehead on the cool countertop. He does not have an answer. Just as he's about to fill her in on the whole kissing debacle, he continues. "Look, unless they're sick or something, can you please call Max and talk this out? I'm at the dinner and I can't just spend it all on the phone with my husband and his friend. Call him and talk it out."

Why is life so hard on him? "Do I have to? Can’t we just-"

"Lando," Y/N interrupts firmly. "You canceled without an explanation. You absolutely have to."

"Fine," he says, defeated. "Have a nice dinner, honey. I miss you," he concludes genuinely.

"Me too," Y/N says, her tone softening slightly. "I’ll check in when I’m on my way home. Love you."

"Love you too," Lando mutters, hanging up. He stares at his phone for a moment, then reluctantly dials Max’s number again.

It rings twice before Max answers, his voice dripping with faux innocence.

"Hey man. What the fuck?" Verstappens - always the pleasure.

"Max," Lando starts, rubbing his temple. "How are you? All good?" he asks politely, like the Brit he used to be once.

"What the fuck do you mean, how am I. You cancel out of nowhere and now Lucas won't talk to me, so yeah, great night off for me," he hears unfiltered tone coming through the speaker. He can't say it does not please him a bit.

"Well, it's late, he should be sleeping anyway," Lando let's out of his mouth before he thinks that through, ragging Max even further.

"You stop giving me instructions on how to raise my child and act like an adult for a moment, would you?"

"If someone should act more adult, it's Lucas," Yeah, Lando. Great comeback. Wow. The eight year old should act more like an adult.

Max manages to brush over that. "Did he do something to the twins? You need to tell me these things, how am I suppose to fix it if I don't know what happened? Or if something has even happened?"

It's hard to fight that logic. Especially after the evening Lando has had today. Lando sighs. There’s no way out of this, so he decides to just rip off the band-aid. "Maya told me… that Lucas kissed her. The silence on the other end is deafening. "And she kissed him back," Lando adds, cringing.

Max’s response is immediate: he bursts into laughter. "Oh, my God," Max wheezes. "Lucas and Maya? That’s amazing."

"It's anything but amazing, Max,” Lando snaps, pacing around again. "She thought she was pregnant because of something the kids on the playground told her! Do you know how much emotional damage I’ve endured in the past hour?"

Max is still laughing, clearly delighted. "Mate, you’re overreacting. They’re small. It’s harmless."

"This is the first boy she’s kissed, Max!" Lando argues. "Your son is now part of her origin story!"

"Oh, please," Max says, still chuckling. "What do you think is going to happen? They’ll run away together? They’re kids, Lando. Relax. It's normal for the to do this."

"I can’t relax," Lando grumbles. "And what’s worse, Olivia is now convinced she’s never falling in love because, and I quote, "boys are gross.""

Max cackles again. "Honestly, that’s probably for the best. Liv’s smart."

Lando's cup of patience, small one to begin with, is truly overflowing.

"Alright, alright," Max says, finally calming down and sensing that teasing Lando is not the way to go about it tonight. "Look, Lucas is a good kid. He probably just thought Maya looked pretty and didn’t know how else to say it. I’ll talk to him, alright? But you don’t need to cancel tomorrow over this."

Lando hesitates, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He knows they would all team up against him anyway. He lost this one. "You’re sure he won’t try anything else?"

Max snorts. "What, like propose? No, Lando, I don’t think so. He’s seven."

Fine.

//

The sound of children’s laughter fills the Verstappens’ backyard, the air warm and bright with sunlight. Like it's all mocking Lando specifically. The infamous bouncy castle stands in all its glory. Lando leans against a chair at the patio table, his arms crossed as he surveys the scene with the intensity of investors watching their car getting overtaken on track.

Maya and Lucas are bouncing together, grinning ear to ear like they’ve completely forgotten the events of yesterday. Meanwhile, Olivia stands off to the side, arms crossed and nose wrinkled in distaste, looking like she’s silently judging the entire scenery. She’s probably drafting her manifesto on why boys are, indeed, “gross.” Lando feels proud. At least one of his daughters is strong enough not to fall for cheap boy's tricks. Not even Y/N seems to understand the gravity of the situation. No matter how long Lando spent trying to explain it to her. Cute, that's what she called it. He hopes this is not a precedent. For now, he stands alone.

"You’re watching them like a prison guard," Y/N comments, nudging Lando gently as she sits down beside him.

"And for good reason," Lando replies, narrowing his eyes at Lucas, who’s apparently successfull at making Maya laugh. "He’s already made a move once. I’m not letting it happen again." He will sit happily sit in every playground they happen to encounter each other at.

Y/N hides her smile behind her coffee cup. "I think we’re safe for now. They’re just kids, Lando. You don’t have to treat Lucas like he’s some F1 rival trying to steal pole position from you."

"He is trying to steal something," Lando grumbles under his breath. Max strolls over, holding a plate of snacks, like the responsible dad he pretends to play, and looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Enjoying the show?"

Lando gives him a side-eye glare. "You think this is funny, don’t you?" Max smirks, popping a grape into his mouth and just nods.

"Your son traumatized my daughters yesterday," Lando fires away.

Max rolls his eyes. "And now they’re bouncing around like best friends again. Kids bounce back back. In this case, literally." Oh, he thinks he's so funny.

As if on cue, Lucas lands a little too close to Maya, sending both of them tumbling onto the floor of the bouncy castle in a fit of giggles. Lando tenses, halfway out of his seat before Y/N grabs his arm.

"Relax," she whispers. "It's fine." "For now," Lando protests, settling back reluctantly. From across the yard, Lucas suddenly stands up and calls out: "Mr. Norris!" Lando freezes, his eyes narrowing as the devil child approaches him. "What?" Lucas grins, holding up a flower he’s picked from the garden. He's rushing over to his and hands it to Lando, eyes filled with expectation and anticipation. "This is for Maya!" Speechless Lando accepts the flower, albeit confused as to why he's handing the flower to him and not to Maya, if she's the supposent recipient. Lucas flashes one look towards his father and in the corner of the eye, Lando can see Max nod approvingly. They really have all teamed up against him. Everyone is watching them and waiting for something exiting to happen. Olivia, the only one having Lando's back, lets out an audible groan loud enough to be heard across the yard.

"Oh, come on," she says, throwing her hands in the air. “This is ridiculous. I’m never falling in love. Ever!”

Y/N snorts into her coffee, Max doubles over laughing, and Lando buries his face in his hands. Meanwhile, happy Lucas runs back to the bouncing castle.

"Why is my life like this?" he wonders, looking up the sky for answers. None come. Y/N pats his shoulder affectionately. "Because you’re the dad of two amazing girls. And one of them might have a little crush. It’s not the end of the world."

"It’s the beginning of the end," Lando mumbles dramatically. Max grins, leaning closer. "You know, if Lucas and Maya end up together, we’ll officially be family. Imagine that, Lando," he pauses dramatically. "Maya Verstappen."

Lando's stomach turns upside down, he groans and turns to Y/N. "We're moving to another continent."

The domestic afternoon continues, adults laughing and talking - apart form Lando, who sits in his observant position, regularly sighing, back leaning and forth in his chair. It’s going to be a long, chaotic road ahead. And it looks like he's the only sane person around - in his opinion exclusively.

----------------------- note: fire up them ideas for this pseudo series!!! love you all

[marbofmoorock]

TADC Autism

AU: TISM!!

Concept: All Circus members have the 'tism.

Short Story:

Caine as the ringmaster, decides that everybody will ride a train in this adventure, just because! NO QUESTIONS ASKED, (GET ON THE DARN TRAIN ALREADY, MY SUPERSTARS!)

Ragatha, wearing her special noise canceling headphones, is escorted onto the train by Pomni. Ragatha gets overexcited about trains, giggling to herself rather frantically. Pomni brings her horses so they can play Horses together in their shared train car. Pomni was quiet, almost mute, (as some autistic children have trouble voicing their own feelings, often very sensitive or anxious, crying without saying a word, since they're often nonverbal, while others are very verbal), yet Pomni always tried to show kindness towards her friends in her own often misunderstood anxious way. That especially goes for Ragatha as she was like her best friend. As she carried Raggy's large bags of toys, they thought of playing for hours, as Pommi understood how Ragatha felt, both sharing a bond of horses and dollies that only they shared.

Gangle and Zooble occupied the next train car bedroom. Gangle is reading her favorite manga, Azumanga Dioh, and Repeating to herself her favorite lines. Zooble goofily repeats them with Gangle, laughing with Gangle at the perviness of Kimura Sensei:

"BANZAAAAAIIIII" yelled Gangle Absentmindedly.

"BANZAAAAAAIII!" Chanted Zooble in return.

(Reference, because autism Below:)

"BANZAAAAAAAAAIIII!" They yelp together as they chuckle and laugh at how silly Kimura Sensei is.

Kinger and Jax are up in the front with something to do, as Caine made Jax an engineer, and Kinger the Conductor, as his blank stare, as goofy as always our was, he wore a Conductor outfit and hat.

"I feel really useful! ALL ABOARD!" Said Kinger in the silliest, cutest way, reminded of his childhood love for Thomas the Train.

Jax shovels coal into the fireplace, finding the repetitive tasks of working in the engine room to be satisfying. It was just the kind of action he needed. It was sure more interesting to take in the view and handle the train's mechanisms than it was to hang out with the girls. "Lame," thought Jax out loud as he continued to quietly talk to himself, like the autistic boy he is, oogling over how the train is moving orderly.

Caine pulls the whistle for fun!

"WOOOOWOOOO!!" Chanted Caine, he was having the time of his life, and couldn't be better. Autistic as he is! Bubble spun around in the air with Caine, giggling endlessly either him above the train as it shot down the tracks with great speed.

In the dining car train, Kaufmo sits at a table eating his favorite snack while watching random comedians on YouTube, learning about better ways to make jokes, obsessing over it as all autistic people do, having an expert level of information on the topic. Then there was Queenie, who took out her butterfly collection where she had a few pictures of beautiful butterflies, I love watching them, she thought to herself as she looked at all of her favorite pictures from her last nature trip, obsessing over entomology, seeing all of the cool pictures of different beetles she found. She loved beetles so much.

Dobby Dog sells stuff at the snack bar, hanging out and enjoying the view. Couldn't be happier, he thought as he quietly sat behind the counter reading a book on hot dogs, his favorite thing in the whole wide world.

They all later hang out in the Observation deck watching the stars later as the train roared on through the countryside.

Choochoo!

----

Edit: If you want more Kimura Sensei, I got you covered. Lol, he may be so creepy, but it just ends up being so hilarious in the anime. Especially when he yells Banzai!!!

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLOGWywdivQ7KYicAZ_MtOkfgvad7IRdsz&feature=shared

Autistic Ragatha bc I'm autistic and I'm struggling to accept my differences

I also gave her little Tamagochi with Jax inspired by something @justtheclippy said on stream! (Ragatha tamagochi keychain coming soon! So stay turned 💜)

[girl-lostconnection]

Omg, ghost from unsweetened au who refuses to leave your side when you’re together 😞😞

Cooks for you, cleans for you, goes out with you and is always text to you, sigh..

Saw this video on TikTok sometime ago and that’s literally him.

Yes-yes-yes! Especially if we are talking about Ghost from the time skip (aka military-polished Ghost) when he has already settled into the rhythm of having you and he kinda clicked you in his life and himself into yours like puzzle pieces.

Ghost, who hovers nearby when you cook, insists on washing the dishes himself and REFUSES to sleep or even nap without you because “tha’s just better, luv”.

He comes home on leave and doesn’t fucking go out until you do because why would he??? He already was out more than enough while deployed — he slept in some uncomfortable places, most of which didn’t have proper mattress, he’s been wet and cold, he’s been too hot and sweaty as a bloody dog, he’s been uncomfortable.

So when he’s home? Baby, he’s not going ANYWHERE. As a matter of fact, he holes up in your flat/house/whatever with you and relishes in how comfortable everything is.

How soft you are, how good and tasty food is, how warm the blankets are and how fucking decadent a proper mattress on your bed feels (bought specifically with his back aches in mind (this man is big and heavy, I just know his lower back gives him hell sometimes)).

Simon is basically joined to you at the hip and doesn’t see anything wrong with it — always touching you, always trying to press his big fucking head in the crook of your neck, at the back of it, in your stomach and lap.

Simon who loves just listening to you, loves having you close, loves knowing that this space — it’s only for you two. It’s safe, it’s warm, it’s comfortable.

Many things there were made with his height or issues in mind and many things bear the mark of you buying them for yourself and later sharing with him.

I honestly believe that in his case, sharing and having things bought for him specifically is a love language. When you grow up without much, lacking a lot of emotional support and comforts, lacking basic comforts and necessities it can later in life make you a bit extreme (eating too much, hoarding things, being touchy about sharing, being generally territorial).

And for him it means so much that you buy things for him or cook for him — care for him in general. And I feel like after knowing you for so long he’s at his most comfortable with you because he knows you won’t take something away from him, he knows on subconscious level that you are safe.

Also if we are talking about Ghost before the timeskip this lad isn’t going ANYWHERE unless he absolutely has to. Like you are at school? Already waiting for you, already draping his arm over your shoulders and herding you inside like he’s a guard dog.

Library? He’s there, one of your headphones in his ear, his hand draped over the back of your chair, his side pressed into you.

Coffee/book shops? He is just a step behind you, a little awkward and a little out of place with his spiked leather jackets and massive height and very obvious nervousness, but he’s there while you are browsing books. He’d probably get startled by loud noises and the first instinct he has is to cover you (oh, I’m gonna start crying just thinking about it) with his body. It’s something he does without even thinking— protective instinct that was previously only spread to Tommy.

Any afterschool activities? He’s walking you TO and FROM them, huffing out air and rolling his eyes when you tell him that he doesn’t have to do that. Like hell, he’d pass on the opportunity to be near you.

Visiting your home? He’s a big awkward lad and he feels very out of place, at least at first but it gets easier with time and with you. And I feel like he’d be impossibly pleased to see you in something cozy and soft even if that’s just sweatpants and T-shirt. Makes inner mutt inside of him nod in satisfaction that you are warm and comfortable (uses it as a chance to nuzzle into you again).

He’d probably be glued to you no matter what you do around the house, chest pressed to your back if you need to do stuff standing, hand wrapped around yours if you have to move. Physical contact is not really something he’s used to and now that he finally has access to it, it’s like he can’t get enough.

Sleepovers? Again, he’s very satisfied with seeing you warm and happy, all cozy in your home clothing and your blanket is soft and you are soft and honestly, he’d feel like he’s in heaven. I feel like he’d be a big fan of sleeping on your chest or just wrapped around you as a big spoon, face pressed to your neck (his favourite spot).

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Family

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: While you thought you're about to spend your perfect anniversary night with your boyfriend, life reminds you otherwise.

Warnings: sadness, depressive thoughts, infertility, pregnancy, endometriosis

Word count: 1k

A/N: What can I even say.. I've been at the doctor's today, for check up after my surgery, which was a year ago and I got confirmed that my endometriosis is growing back. Not that I wouldn't know, because I know my body, but being said the facts out loud is hard. I spent my afternoon crying, curled on the couch, questioning myself in case of being able to have a child one day. To get myself out of the misery, I wrote this, because I would like to have someone to come home to me and hold me in his arms, just giving me the support through all this shit. I already wrote a few pieces endometriosis related, so if you want, check it out too. Love you all. <3

---

It was meant to be a perfect day, you had plans to cook some dinner and also had some spicy things in your mind for the night.

Getting through your doctors appointments was something you got used to in the last year, after you had a surgery for your endometriosis. You felt something was off for a few months, your cramps crawling, stabbing you in the back again, those flares being harsh to the point you couldn't even sit. But you held your optimism, trying not to scare George, because worrying him while he was at his prime perfomance during the season wasn't on the list.

Today was meant to be special because you had a two years anniversary.

"Can you see these lesions here? It's back again, I'm sorry."

The words you somehow expected, but didn’t want to hear. The same spiral of pain, hormone shots, nausea and... infertility.

Yeah, you discussed it with George, because everything seems so easy to talk about with him, the idea of having kids.

It gutted you deeply, that you might not be able to give him a child.

As you got home, the space was quiet, only the soft humming of aircondition was heard, making your heart clench, that he's not even there to embrace your mess, even though it's not his fault. George was meant to be home in the evening, but you had a message in your voicemail, that he can’t get home in time, because of the delayed flight. Okay, he'll be here in the morning.

But your sadness and depresive thoughts will be with you through the night. Torturing your mind, getting the best of you, making you feel worthless and weak.

---

"Baby...?"

The faint sound of the deep voice woke you from the nap. You cried yourself to sleep in the living room, still wearing your clothes you went to the doctors in. The coat scattered on the ground next to the couch, your shoes kicked in the hallway, tissues to which you drowned your tears everywhere around you.

George knew something happened, it tugged at his heartstrings, when he saw you like this. Sad, messy and depressed.

You groaned a little, disoriented, while he sat beside you, his gaze locked on your face.

"What happened?"

Softly, he took your hand into his, brushing over your knuckles, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

Then it hit you again. "It's back again, I'm sorry."

Tears burning in your eyes, you avert them to the side, not able to look into his beautiful ocean blue eyes.

"Hey, love... Don't do this. I know, that something is wrong, but don't try to avoid me, I'm here for you, remember?"

The flicker of hope, that you’re not that worthless went through your mind, your gaze finally locking on his, pouring all your hurt into the pool of his positivity.

"I was at the doctor's today."

Oh no. There's was only one thing that was able to get this reaction out of you.

"How bad is it?"

His hand wander slowly to your cheek, brushing a thumb over it.

"It's not worse than last time, but still... It's there. Again. For fucks sake, again. I hate it so much. I hate myself."

The breaking point, your emotions flew out, your voice cracking and your tears staining your cheeks, your eyes red even more than before.

George pulled you closer to him, letting you lean against him, as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. The scent of him mixed with his cologne was enough to calm you down a little bit. He was your safe haven.

"Shhh... It's okay, just- just let it out. Be angry, scream and cry. Don't hold it in your mind. I'm here to hold you, to pick up your shattered pieces." his voice was soothing lullaby, when your cries got louder and more desperate. Brushing his fingers through your hair, he pressed the kiss on your temple, rocking you as his arms were wrapped around you tightly.

"I might not be able to have a child, George." you choked out between your sobs, and he looked down at your face with frown.

"Is that the thing that concern you the most?"

"Obviously. What a woman I am, to not give her man a child."

George felt partly offended by your words, but he kept his composure, because he was used to your hateful comments towards yourself, even, for the most of the time, you were a hell of a confident woman, loving yourself.

"Don't talk like this, please. You're much more than a baby machine." he tried to be funny and.. it worked. You smiled through your tears. He reached for your cheek, wiping off your emotions, smiling a little.

"You can't lose hope just like that. We can be lucky, you know. We just have to try, be patient and somewhere along the way, we're gonna be blessed. I don't care if it's gonna be in a month or in years. I'll be there for you along the way. As I always am. And even though we don't get lucky, I'm lucky to have you. And that's all that matters in my life, because you're my family."

And as ever, he managed to give you peace, calming warmth flooded your soul, making you sure in that George is the one.

---

Watching the screen of the ultrasound machine as you laid down on the examination table at your doctor’s, you couldn’t shake the excitement. George, holding your hand, standing beside you, was watching your expression, his chest fluttering at how happy you were.

"Ah, seems like you got very lucky." The doctor chuckled, pointing to the screen, showing two strong fetuses.

"What does it mean?" George asked first, clearly confused.

"That means that you're gonna have twins."

You nearly passed out while you gasped loudly.

"What?! Two of them?"

George only chuckled, kissing your forehead, nuzzling his nose to your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

"Guess we were pretty thorough with our trying." he whispered with teasing tone in his voice.

[venoooo]

457 / Inhun hcs <3

(These r set in nosquidgame!au)

- Inho genuinely thinks Gihun is the single most handsome man alive, and he *adores* admiring his face like it's a work of art (it is).

- Inho usually goes to sleep later than Gihun, but not because he's working or is busy. He purposefully stays awake a little later to have time to admire Gihun sleeping.

- If the games didn't exist, Inho would work as a police detective with Junho and Gihun would own a small business.

- If it hadn't been for the games, I hc their meeting would've been due to Gihun visiting the station to file a report on whatever burglar when he sees Inho. They would lock eyes and the attraction would have been immediate and mutual.

- Inho loves black coffee, Gihun prefers tea.

- Without paranoia, Gihun can sleep anywhere in almost any position, as opposed to his boyfriend, Inho, who suffers from insomnia.

- Though he tries to hide it, Gihun finds Inho's bad jokes hilarious.

- Inho gets cold easily, whilst Gihun is usually warm.

- The first people to know of their relationship were Junho and Jungbae, both on accident.

- Junho really likes Gihun as his BIL, because he can tell Inho's never been happier, and that he's genuinely cared for.

- They like to gamble amongst themselves + they play poker together a lot.

- The winning ratio is about 50 / 50.

- Gihun is a sorer loser than Inho.

- Inho has a surprisingly decent singing voice. Gihun found out about this when, one night, after a couple drinks, Inho performed for him.

- Gihun will sometimes just *remember* that he's actually dating Inho, and that he actually gets to kiss him and- holy shit, *he's dating Inho*.

- Gihun loves spicy food and can handle it well. Inho likes it too, but his tolerance for spice is fairly low.

- At one point in their relationship, Inho seriously considered starting to wear tall hats or even chunkier platforms to match Gihun's height.

- When they kiss, Inho doesn't stand on his tippy toes, Gihun tilts his head downward.

- Inho's greatest loss in life was his wife and kid, the second was Gihun's long hair.

- Inho has several moles on his neck, and Gihun likes to kiss and count them (especially at unfortunate times).

- Inho is very fond of Gayeong, and Gayeong likes him a lot too.

- She (Gayeong) knows Inho as one of his dad's "closest friends", but suspects there's something more to their relationship.

- Neither can cook to save their asses.

- Inho probably knows other languages / codes, and he teaches Gihun a few words so he can call him cute names without anyone noticing.

- Sanguine × Choleric temperament 100%

- Gihun is prone to sudden cramping. Like, they'll be walking and suddenly he'll clutch his ankle, crying in agonizing pain. Inho thinks this is hilarious, but would never laugh in his face for it.

- Their lucky numbers are 6, 7 and 8.

- They like cafe dates a lot.

- Gihun likes to take selfies of themselves a lot, but Inho absolutely despises photos.

- Inho gets easily jealous when Gihun talks to other men, while Gihun get's self-conscious when Inho does the same.

- Both are the "13 in 1 soap" typa guys.

- Gihun's stubble is one of the many things that drive Inho absolutely wild.

NSFW hcs?!?!? 🤯

- Inho has a very high libido. This is a result of being under constant stress and years of repressed urges.

- Gihun was a moderate libido, but won't hesitate to reciprocate as soon as Inho initiates.

- There's nothing more satisfying for Inho than 3+ hour long sessions of *making love*. He greatly enjoys foreplay and loves to drag things out as much as possible. Gihun, on the contrary, gets whiny and desesperate.

- Gihun isn't exactly an inexpressive man, but he sure brings out his most responsive side in bed. He's loud and shameless, and the faces he makes are downright obscene.

- This is one of the main reasons why they can't get touchy outside their home.

- Blowing and eating Gihun out is one of Inho's greatest pleasures.

- When Inho gets home from work, all stressed and tired, the first thing he asks of his boyfriend is to please sit on his face.

- Something they both want but would never admit to each other is Gihun wearing lingerie.

- Gihun has naturally well-sculpted thighs, and Inho just *loves* to fuck them.

- One of the things that can get Gihun off almost instantly is getting spanked.

- He also likes being choked and bittten and having his hair pulled.

- Gihun's cock is particularly sensitive. He'll get all swollen and red with the slightest touches, and he leaks *so much* pre.

- It's not so often that Inho likes to boss Gihun around in bed, but when he does, he'll make an absolute *bitch* out of him. So much that Gihun is shaking and limp for the following days.

- Gihun masturbates often, and more than once has Inho walked in on him.

- Inho wants Gihun to cum on his dick and his dick alone. So if Gihun tries to touch himself, he'll either cuff him or just restrain his wrists.

- This isn't my headcanon, but I read on twt (I think), that Gihun is canonically older than Inho (51 and 49). So Inho will be pounding him and suddenly ask "Does it feel good, hyung?" to an incoherent Gihun.

- They love to fuck in the shower.

- What places have they fucked inside their home? More like what places have they *not*.

- Once Gihun wakes up in the middle of a wet dream, he won't ve able to go back to sleep unless he gets off. This is why Inho has woken up to many pleasant surprises.

- One of the things that get Inho really going is hearing Gihun actually *sob* his name while he pounds him.

- Gihun can't really control his spasms once the pleasure starts building up. This results in several scratches down his boyfriend's back (HE LOVES IT).

- Dacryphilic Inho is real.

- Inho is a traditonal man, his favorite positions are missionary and doggy.

- Gihun's are cowboy / reverse cowboy, front face and g-whiz.

[typicalopposite]

and for my last mpreg update here is chapter one of the Omega Tommy fic!

rejected

chapter one: sick over you

(also posted on ao3)

The rain is pouring down, and with the tears flooding from his eyes Tommy can barely see the road ahead of him as he speeds away from Evan’s apartment building. Perhaps coming by unannounced had been stupid. Even still, he hadn’t expected… that to be the reaction he received. Not that he doesn’t think it’s the reaction he deserves, but to hear Evan’s voice— raised in anger and filled with disgust— tell him to get out of his life; it hurt in a way nothing has ever hurt him before. 

He feels numb.

Numb like he felt at his mother’s funeral. Numb like he felt every time his father lifted a hand to him. Numb like he felt when some random alpha made an off handed comment in his direction. Numb like he felt when came home and caught Liam— his ex-mate… the one he’d thought was his true mate— in bed with another. Numb like he felt when their bond had broken; Liam had gotten them pregnant, that creates a stronger bond than any mere mating bite ever could… Another had given Liam what Tommy had longed to— what Tommy has always longed for… but was told he could never have. 

The tears come harder; the rain picks up. 

He had been told he would never carry a child of his own. It was not meant to be. Liam had held him as he cried, at least until he got Tommy home… Then his anger reared its head. Useless! That's what he had called Tommy. A disgrace. 

Broken… 

Broken… 

Broken… 

“Guess I’m not so broken after all,” Tommy laughs out loud. The words are bitter… their meaning heavy. Too heavy. Tommy fears it might be crushed by their weight. 

Two days ago he couldn’t shake the feeling any longer. 40 years and he has never missed a heat. 40 years and he has never felt so sluggish and off. He knew well before the doctor confirmed it. “Congratulations, Mr. Kinard… you’re pregnant.”

He sat with those words for two whole days; mulling over what he should do. 

He knew what he had to do. He was just unsure of how to do it. He had left, after all. He told Evan they were through and ran away before Evan could get too close… oh how Tommy had wanted to let Evan get close anyway. He hadn’t felt a pull towards anyone since he lost his bond with Liam… Then he met Evan. 

The pull he felt towards Evan was so much stronger than anything he’d ever felt towards Liam. It was so powerful, so intense, so real… Too real… and he had to break it before Evan wanted something more… something he couldn’t give him. 

Except he could… it seems. 

So he had to swallow his pride— and his fear— and he had to tell him. 

He decided he would go beg Evan’s forgiveness, then tell him the news, and hope it would be enough. He hoped Evan could forgive him, and would love him despite his actions. He hoped Evan could love him like he knew Evan would love their child. 

But Evan didn’t give him a chance to speak…

“No,” he’d said, eyes red rimmed and misty like he’d been crying some time before Tommy showed up at his door. “No. I get to talk now.” Tommy gave a sharp nod and let Evan talk. Boy, did Evan talk. “You don’t get to disappear from my life, then just show back up and cry your way back into it Tommy.” 

“I- I wasn’t…” Tommy tried, but Evan shot him an angry glare and his mouth snapped shut. 

“I wanted a future with you,” Evan said. “I saw a future with you… and you left. You— You didn’t even give me a good reason… you just left. You didn’t care about how that would make me feel, all you cared about was how you didn’t want me to make you feel, in some unforeseen future you decided— on your own— that we were heading towards. Do you know how long I spiraled because of that?” 

Tommy stared at him, knowing he must look like a deer in headlights— he honestly hadn’t expected to learn Evan had spiraled from the break up at all. Been sad, sure, moped around for a short while, maybe… but to know he spiraled… over Tommy? He cared that much for Tommy? “Evan, if you would just let me explain—”

“I waited, Tommy…” Evan interjects. “For months, I waited. You bubbled me and I—” he scoffs, wiping roughly at one eye as a tear slips free. “I held on to hope you would finally just send the damn message. Or call. Or— I don’t know— do something. But you didn’t.”

Tommy hung his head. “I know…” he said softly. “I— I’m sorry. But… I’m— I’m here now…”

“Now?” Evan huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Now… is too late.”

Tommy heard the words, but they did register until Evan asked him to leave. “L- Leave?” Tommy felt his bottom lip trembling, his heart began to race. 

“Yes, Tommy. Leave. Please.” 

“B- But I— I have to tell you…”

“Dammit Tommy, I don’t care, okay?” Tommy flinches at the rise in Evan’s voice. “You had your chance to come around. You didn’t. I said it’s too late, I meant it. So go... Leave.” 

Tommy blinked. He was… shocked? No, not really… Hurt? Well he did it to himself, didn’t he. 

Rain pelts against the windshield; his wipers, even on full blast, can’t keep up. His tears haven’t stopped flowing since he— partially lost in a daze— backed out of Evan’s loft, turned and bolted towards the elevator. The sound of the door slamming caused him to jolt as he frantically pressed the button. He hits a pocket of water and the truck hydroplanes. It doesn’t scare him in and of itself, he knows how to control his vehicle, but it’s enough to make him pull over and either calm down or wait out the storm. 

With his truck safely stopped, he allows himself to cry. The cries quickly turn to sobs, and the sobs get stronger and louder until he is screaming at the top of his lungs. He is slinging his fists like a mad man, bringing them down against the steering wheel until he knows there will be bruises left behind— until he thinks he might have broken one of his pinkies… It throbs and has a large lump poking out the side. 

Only then does he stop, and just sit there, his hands sore and laid gently in his lap. He sobs until he has nothing left in him to cry out. 

Evan doesn’t want him. 

Evan doesn’t want him.

Evan doesn’t want him… anymore. 

Evan wanted a future with him and Tommy ruined it. He ruined it… ruined it… ruined it. Now he will be alone. Evan will love their child… of course he will. He is not a cruel person, regardless of how bad his words hurt… they were well deserved. But Tommy knows he won’t take his anger out on their child. 

But he won’t love Tommy.

Tommy will be alone… like it was always meant to be. 

He inhales and feels it— the moment something inside him breaks; his heart, perhaps. It lies broken inside him oozing out a sickening feeling throughout his entire body. He feels alone. He feels unloved. 

He feels… rejected.

*

The rain is pouring down and Tommy hates flying when he’s not the one at the controls. Every turbulence sends a wave of nausea through him— it doesn’t help that he is constantly nauseous anyway. He closes the shade over the window, squeezes his eyes shut, and tries to focus on breathing. 

In… out… in… out… in—

“Sir,” a voice says; a hand touches his shoulder. The stewardess looks distressed as she leans over the empty seat to him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine…” Tommy lies, and the look she gives him makes it apparent she knows that he is. He is clammy and sweaty. He is sure his face is flushed, his pupils dilated… He can only imagine how distressed his scent is. “I’ll be okay.” Eventually? Someday? Maybe? Probably not… the woman sighs and eventually leaves. 

Have you recently separated from your mate? 

The question echoes in his memory… takes him back to days of constant sickness; unable to hold anything down and coupled with extreme fatigue— he could barely even keep his eyes open… Lucy told him if he didn’t go to the doctor she was going to drag him in by his ears. 

“My- My mate?” Tommy had responded to the question, not completely, but just confused enough that the doctor would have automatically assumed that just because he was pregnant that he was also mated. “I don’t have one.” 

His doctor— the same old crotchety man he’s seen since his adolescence— peered up at him over his glasses, then down at his midsection. He was only barely showing, but Tommy’s hand still instinctively found its way to the spot their baby was nestled. “You seem pretty mated to me,” he responded, waiting for a beat then continuing with, “Is the other parent not involved with the pregnancy?” 

Tommy stared at him long enough he didn’t need to answer. 

“Mr. Kinard, this is not extreme morning sickness you’re experiencing. It’s rejection sickness.” 

“R- Rejection… sickness— but I’m not—”

“Mated. Yes. I understand you believe that,” the doctor interjected, sounding slightly annoyed. “However, your body is saying— screaming, really— quite the opposite.” 

The plane shakes and drops in the sky and Tommy tries to ignore it by thinking of the pamphlet tucked away in his luggage. 

A nurse had handed it to him before he left the office. “Doctor Pate circled some groups you can reach out to for help.” She had said, pushing the folded paper into Tommy’s hand. “Although your best option is to just return to your mate.” She made it seem so simple. She had no idea how much it was anything but simple. He thanked her anyway and walked out. 

Two weeks later and he wasn’t getting any better. He could barely even get out of bed. The pamphlet sat on his bedside table staring at him— mocking him. 

“Maybe you should just… call him,” Lucy had suggested. Tommy groaned and shook his head, burrowing into his pillow. He heard stories of omegas getting the urge to make nests during their pregnancies. A safe space for them to cocoon inside as their bodies changed and grew the new precious life. He hadn’t had the urge to do much of anything other than sleep… and wallow. “Tommy you’re scaring me,” she said, shoving him gently so he would look up at her. “If this is rejection—”

“It’s not.” It can’t be… he thought; he hoped. 

Lucy glared at him, but the anger faded quickly. She seemed to be as exhausted as Tommy felt. “But if it is… Tommy, people die from this! It’s serious.” 

“Don’t you think I know that, Luce!” Tommy managed to snap back. “What am I supposed to do about it! He doesn’t want me!” 

Unwanted.

Unloved.

Rejected.

Maybe if he kept denying it… his body would get the memo and it would just… go away, even if he knew deep down that it wouldn't work, and the doctor was right. Evan was his mate… Bound to him by the tiny life now struggling to survive inside his broken diseased body. Evan was his mate, but he would never truly be Tommy’s; he didn’t want to be. 

The thought curdled inside him and the sour feeling spread throughout. 

The plane shakes and Lucy plops back down in her seat. “Thank god we’re almost there,” she sighs. “Fucking hate flying as a passenger.” Tommy does his best to react; he gives the weakest laugh. She doesn’t point it out, just rests her hand on his where he’s gripping the arm rest and they ride out the turbulence together. 

Lucy had been the one to suggest the trip. 

After another doctor visit, where Tommy had only shown signs of getting worse: loss in appetite, in weight, he was even losing hair. The doctor urged Tommy to reach out to his mate and Tommy finally explained the situation in its entirety. This led to the doctor giving them a major hurdle in the very definite diagnosis of mate rejection… That it no longer mattered if he called and informed Evan about the baby. His condition was so severe, if Evan truly meant what he said when sent Tommy away— if he had truly moved on and no longer wanted to be with Tommy, accepting the child would do nothing for the sickness. 

“Well we have to do something,” Lucy had said frantically. The doctor had left them with a very bleak outlook. One Tommy accepted all too easily, while Lucy refused to accept at all. She still believed going to Evan would work— she believed he was upset, and hadn’t meant what he said at all. Tommy did not believe that at all, and made her promise she wouldn’t tell him; she agreed on one condition. 

“Yea’llo,” Sal had said through the phone, and despite the heavy pout Tommy wore from being forced to call his best friend for assistance with his… situation, he smiled. He let Lucy explain, but he made her lie about who the alpha father was. (Lucy was easy to convince to keep a level head about the baby, and the Evan of it all… Sal would not be… if he could be kept level headed about it in the first place— which, probably not.)

They told Sal it was a one night stand… Tommy had no idea who the alpha was, or how to get up with him… Sal gave his spiel; he called Tommy a dumbass, then retracted it with kind words and promised to do whatever he can to help. There was never a question of whether Tommy could go to Sal’s or not, so across the US they went. 

This plan might not work. Lucy knows that… Sal knows that… Tommy knows that. In the pamphlets, it says that while it’s best to be reunited with their alpha in the case of an omega with rejection sickness, being around another alpha has been proven to help tremendously, especially one with a close bond to the omega. Lucy is a beta… she has always been so happy about the freedom that comes with it… until now. 

Sal, however, is an alpha, and the two have been best friends for as long as Tommy can remember; even when Sal and his family moved out to Virginia so he could finally get his chance at a captain’s position, they remained extremely close: visits on holidays, birthdays, or just because… Sal’s family adores Tommy. Plus being around Gina (another Omega) and the kids will likely help with the rejection sickness as well. 

Tommy feels woozy as Lucy helps him through the boarding bridge, but that can be attributed mostly to the very rough— very long— flight. He collapses down into the first seat he sees, and lets his head fall into his hands. “I’ll call Sal,” Lucy says, but before she can, what sounds like a stampede is running towards them. 

“Uncle Tommy! Uncle Tommy!!” The familiar little voices pull a smile to his face despite how awful he’s feeling. He forces his head up to see SJ and Gino coming at him like a couple missiles. Seeing two of his favorite little people makes it easy enough to smile past how rotten he feels and his arms immediately open to them; he ‘oofs’ when they ultimately collide with him. 

“Easy you two!” Sal scolds them when he finally catches up. 

“Sorry,” they both say, dipping their heads. “Uncle Tommy, Mama says you have a baby in your belly,” Gino continues, eyes wide and curious. “Is that true?” Tommy laughs weakly, and nods. “How did it get in there!?” 

“His alpha put it there!” SJ answers while Tommy panickedly looks to Sal for help. 

“Uncle Tommy has an alpha?!” 

“Is the baby a boy or girl,” SJ asks, pivoting the direction of questioning. 

“When will it be here!?” 

“What are you going to name it!?”

“Alright, alright…” Sal groans, grabbing handfuls of the backs of both boys shirts and lifting them away from Tommy. They laugh and hold their arms out like they are flying as Sal swings them around and sets them down next to Lucy. 

“Lucy!” They both excite run into her arms, nearly taking her down to the floor.  

He tries to ignore the worried look Sal is giving him when he struggles to lift his head up enough to meet his best friend's eyes. “Where are the girls,” he asks, noticing the absence of Gina and their youngest, Tori. 

“How do you think we would have gotten you back to the house if everyone came, stuck you in the back of the truck?” His sarcasm is even falling flat as he crosses his arms and furrows his brows down at Tommy. 

“Thought Gina finally talked you into a minivan,” Tommy quips back. 

“I’ll be damned if you ever see me in it…” 

“Spoken like a true macho-macho man,” Lucy laughs, still wrestling with the boys. 

They all laugh at that, until a wave of pain and nausea crashes over Tommy and he has to lean himself forward and close his eyes in an attempt to settle his stomach. He groans as softly as he can but even SJ and Gino go quiet after hearing it. “Are you okay Uncle Tommy…” SJ asks, pulling free from Lucy’s hold and walking back over to where Tommy is begging his body to calm the hell down. 

“He will be,” Sal says, resting a hand on SJ’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get going,” he adds, extending his other hand out to Tommy.

He helps Tommy to his feet and his knees start to buckle the moment his full weight is put on them. “Whoa,” Lucy yelps, and hurries to his other side. “Uhm… maybe— maybe you should try… I don’t know— scenting… or something. See if it’s going to work or— or help.” Sal shrugs and looks to Tommy for him to make the decision. 

Tommy hesitates, letting himself take in Sal’s scent at a distance first. He hates how much it is already working— how fast it is already working. He hates his stupid, weak, omega body for being so needy for it in the first place. 

“Alright, go on,” Sal says, his smug smirk finally returning as he opens his arms to Tommy; it surprisingly helps Tommy calm down about it all. “Get a good whiff so you’re not all mopey, and stinking up the truck, on the ride back to the house!” 

Tommy’s feet are moving before his brain even registers it, and he all but melts into the embrace; his nose quickly finds the scent gland and presses into it. It’s humiliating how his body forces him to draw in a deep breath. It’s also overwhelmingly relaxing, and the pins and needles he’s felt throughout his body all week almost instantly disappear. He feels a sob vibrating up and out of him before he can stop it, and he hears Lucy ushering the boys to go help her find Tommy’s luggage to give him a moment. 

“What were you thinking, T…” Sal whispers, tightening his arms around Tommy’s shoulders. 

“I wasn’t…” Tommy replies— and damn, isn’t that the truth…

Sal sighs, and pulls back to look at Tommy. His eyes are so full of worry, and maybe just a hint of anger… Thankfully it will only be towards Tommy for getting himself in this position, and not Evan for unknowingly putting him in it. “Let’s go home,” Sal says, and he has always referred to his home Tommy’s home… There have been plenty of times in their friendship Sal’s home was the only home Tommy had known. It soothes him a little more, and finally he has his bearings back enough to nod and follow Sal out of the airport. 

*

The rain is pouring down and the baby is expected any day now. 

In actuality, the baby isn’t due for a few more weeks… but as it stands, with Tommy’s sickness worsening by the day, his doctors don’t expect him to make it to his due date. He sits in his big comfy recliner, and stares out the window at the rain pelting against the ground, creating puddles in Sal and Gina’s front yard. Outside his room he can hear Sal stomping around pissily, gathering his bags and filling them with just enough for a trip to LA and back. 

He wants to stop him… to run out of his room begging and pleading with Sal to not do this— it won’t help, it’s not fair— but he can’t. He slowly moves his eyes down to his body; it’s frail and pale and too weak to do much of anything beyond sitting in his big comfy recliner, and staring wistfully out the window. 

It had been too good to be true that everything would turn out okay… too good to be true Evan could be left out of it until after the baby was born, like Tommy is sure he is going to want to be once he is told the truth. Of course good things and Tommy don’t mesh well, and he took a turn for the worse a month ago. 

Up until then Tommy was doing fine. The sickness had almost subsided completely, he was on a temporary transfer to Virginia Beach Fire Department. He could even go as far as to say him and the baby were thriving. 

Tommy started to let himself enjoy being pregnant. He loved feeling the baby kick against his hand as he told them stories, or sang them songs. He was growing more and more excited to become a papa, and when he had hard, sad days… he would be wrapped up by his family and allowed to soak in their love laced scents to get his mind back on track. 

He didn’t need an alpha— he didn’t need his alpha… He had enough. It would be enough. He would be enough… 

It almost was enough. 

It started to snowball down a very steep hill when April rolled around… 

Tommy walked into the kitchen, grabbing a strip of bacon from Sal’s plate— he snorted out a laugh as Sal grumpily swatted his hand away— Gina greeted him with a kiss to his cheek and allowed him to scoop Tori up from her arms. The routine calmness of the morning was interrupted when Sal mentioned it being a year since Tommy let Howie talk him into nearly losing his job to save Nash’s ass. 

A whole year… since he met Evan. 

Tommy stares out the window at the rain pouring down and combined with the tears filling his eyes he can barely see the Uber logo illuminated in the car windshield that comes to a stop outside the house. He hears his door creak open, and Sal’s scent fills the room as he steps inside. Tommy struggles to breathe it in and he misses the days it actually helped with the aches and pains coursing through his body, and the constant state of nausea he feels. 

“Hey,” Sal says softly, pulling up a chair to Tommy’s side. He waits for Tommy to slowly turn his head and face him, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. “Don’t look at me like that, T…” Sal says, and he reaches up to adjust the oxygen tube in Tommy’s nose, careful of the feeding tube also taped down to his cheek. Tommy can feel his lips tugging down, and he’s really not trying to make Sal feel bad— it hurts to see how much looking at Tommy like this clearly hurts Sal. 

Sal blames himself, in a way… for Tommy getting worse. Unjustifiable as it might be, Tommy knows Sal does. He had come to his room that evening— after bringing up the reunion of the cruise ship disaster— and knocked gently. He apologized through the closed door for reopening that wound; he said he thought he’d gotten over the kid, he talked about him so rarely. But Sal hadn’t known the truth behind Tommy’s silence… and that’s on Tommy. 

“Come on man, can you please open the door?” Sal had said, and he sounded so broken up. Tommy forced himself up and out of his self wallowing, dragging his feet to the door to open it. 

He was able to fake it for just a few days. Then the sickness took hold and Tommy stopped eating. He stopped sleeping… He stopped talking. He began feeling himself disassociating from the pregnancy: the kick’s brought him anguish instead of joy, the thought of giving birth to his child was overpowered by the reminder it was also Evan’s child… and Evan no longer wanted him. 

Evan had rejected him. 

His alpha had rejected him.

His mate had rejected him. 

The sickness spread so quickly no one— even the doctors— knew how to combat it. 

“I don’t understand…” he had heard Sal say outside his room. Lucy had flown in when Gina had called to inform her things had taken a turn for the worse, and now they were out there going back and forth about his condition. Tommy laid in his bed, hooked up to all kinds of machines trying desperately to keep him alive, and listened, unable to intervene or contribute at all. “He was getting better… then suddenly he’s in his feelings about that damned Buckley kid and—” Tommy listened as Sal sighed, long and deep and frustrated. “Son of a bitch…” 

“Sal—” Gina said softly, quietly… but Tommy heard her anyway. 

“Does he know…” Sal asked; Lucy didn’t respond… “What the fuck T…” Sal groaned, and Tommy stopped trying to hear the rest of the conversation. He let his eyes fall closed and allowed exhaustion to pull him into a very restless sleep. 

The outlook was so bleak. Lucy had sat beside his bed and cried as she tried to get him to eat some jello. Sal grew angrier and angrier with the situation. The younger of the kids stopped being allowed in to see him; his appearance was so haggard and ghastly it had frightened Tori and Gino… SJ chose to stop coming in on his own; he couldn’t stand to see his Uncle Tommy waste away, he’d told his mother. 

Tommy hated himself for causing the people he cared about so much despair. 

He’s pretty sure he can even pinpoint the exact moment in it all that he pushed Sal to make the decision to go get Evan. 

The night nurse hadn’t arrived yet and Tommy’s bedding needed to be changed. He tried to plead with Gina to wait— to not call Sal in to help. I’m fine, he thought… but could not force the words to come out no matter how hard he tried. He could do no more than grunt and weep, then finally just give up and let it happen. Tommy turned his eyes away, and tried to pretend he didn’t hear them both gasp at seeing him fully exposed. 

“I’m going to get that little shit and bring him here,” he heard Sal tell Gina and Lucy; no hesitation in his voice, he was very clear actually. 

“What if he refuses to come back with you…” Lucy countered. 

“Oh that’s not going to be an issue,” Sal stated very matter of factly and Tommy felt a tear slide down his face. Neither woman seemed willing to argue further, and that was that. 

Now, Tommy stares at Sal tiredly. He really wishes he could convey how much he doesn’t want him to do this. It’s not fair to Evan, Tommy thinks. It’s not his fault, he didn’t know… He blinks and the tears fall; Sal quickly swipes them away. 

“Don’t worry, you big softie… I won’t hurt him… too bad,” That gets a genuine laugh from Tommy, albeit weak. “Believe it or not I care about your hard headed ass, and don’t plan on losing you; so what good is he gonna do me in helping keep you around, if he’s dead…” Tommy gives a slow weak nod, and Sal cups the back of his neck helping him hold his head steady. “We’re gonna get you through this, okay?” 

Another nod, and Sal pats Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy watches him stand and walk to the door, notes how he quickly wipes a hand over his face before turning back towards him. He smiles and waves and Tommy uses the very limited amount of energy he has to do the same. Then Sal’s gone, and Tommy’s alone with his thoughts. 

He looks back out the window and watches Sal walk off the porch, turning to pull Gina into his arms— into a deep, passionate kiss— one more time. Tommy wishes he had that connection with someone— not someone… Evan. God he misses him. 

He feels the baby shift, and move, and brings his hand up to rest atop the taut bump. He is so tired, and as he slowly slips into unconsciousness… he just hopes Sal is right. He hopes bringing Evan actually works. 

He hopes he has the strength to make it through if it doesn’t. 

[eternaldesi]

╰ dad!chris x . Mom!reader ᨸ Chris hesitantly agrees to let you have a girls’ night out, promising he’s got the kids under control—only to FaceTime you for help when the toddler throws a tantrum.

IT HAD BEEN WEEKS OF NON-STOP FAMILY LIFE. Between work, the kids’ activities, and keeping everything running smoothly at home, you hadn’t had a night to yourself in what felt like forever. So, when your friends suggested a girls’ night out, you jumped at the chance. After all, you deserved a little fun and relaxation, right? You glanced over at Chris, who was sprawled on the couch in his usual laid-back fashion, playing a game on his phone. “Hey, babe,” you started, trying to sound casual, but you could feel the nerves creeping in. “I was thinking I could go out with the girls tonight. Just for a few hours.” Chris looked up from his phone, eyes widening slightly at the mention of you leaving. He put down his phone, his expression shifting to one of concern. “Wait, you want to leave me alone with the kids?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You laughed lightly, not sure if he was joking. “Chris, you’ve got this. They’ll be fine. You’re a great dad.” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know, but… I don’t know. What if something happens? What if they get… I don’t know… messy? Or—” You raised an eyebrow. “Chris, you’ve been around the kids for a long time. I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Besides, it’s just a few hours. I’ll be back before you know it.” He sighed dramatically but eventually relented, giving you a smile of reassurance, even though you could tell he was still nervous. “Fine, fine. But if they start a riot or something, I’m calling you.” “Deal,” you said, laughing as you grabbed your purse. “I’ll be just a phone call away. Have fun with the kids, Dad.”

A FEW HOURS LATER, you were at a lively restaurant with your friends, enjoying a much-needed break. You’d forgotten how nice it felt to be around adults, away from the chaos of home. As the night went on, you found yourself laughing and chatting freely, your stress melting away with each glass of wine. But then, your phone buzzed. You pulled it from your purse, glancing at the screen. It was a FaceTime call from Chris. You frowned, puzzled. Was everything okay? You answered the call, and Chris’s face popped up on the screen, looking a little frazzled. Behind him, you could hear the sounds of children—loud, high-pitched, and very chaotic. “Hey, what’s up?” you asked, trying to hide your amusement. Chris’s face was a mixture of panic and exasperation. “I… I need help,” he said, voice low, as if trying to keep the situation under control. “What’s going on?” you asked, already knowing the answer. “Chloe won’t stop crying. I’ve tried everything. I gave her snacks, I sang her favorite song, I even put on the show she likes—nothing’s working! And Nico is jumping off the couch while Sienna is pretending to be a scientist and mixing random things in the kitchen.” You could barely suppress your giggles as you heard Nico’s excited voice shouting, “I’m a superhero!” in the background. Meanwhile, Chloe’s cries only seemed to get louder. You held back laughter, trying to keep your tone calm. “Okay, okay. Deep breath, Chris. Here’s what you do—try giving Chloe her stuffed bear, the one she can’t sleep without. It usually calms her down.” Chris ran a hand through his hair, his face scrunching with frustration. “I tried that. She’s still going off. And Nico won’t stop—he’s about to break something!” You couldn’t help it anymore. You laughed, a genuine laugh that rang out over the phone. “Chris, you’ve got this. Just breathe. Let me talk to the kids.” You put the phone on speaker and called out to the kids. “Nico! Sienna! Can you listen to Daddy for just a minute? He’s trying really hard!” “Mommy!” Sienna’s voice rang through the phone, and you could hear the excitement in her voice. “Daddy says I can’t mix the kitchen stuff!” “Yeah, because you’re not a scientist, Sienna,” Chris added with a sigh. “I swear, they’re out of control tonight.”“Alright, alright. Just tell them to give you a few minutes,” you said, trying to suppress another laugh. “I’m sure they’ll calm down.” Chris rubbed his temples. “I’m gonna lose it, I swear.” You could hear Chloe’s cries start to fade slightly in the background as Chris quickly retrieved the stuffed bear, probably following your instructions. It only took a few moments before the sound of Chloe calming down reached your ears. “There, see?” you said, grinning. “Just give it a minute.” Chris looked at you through the phone, his expression one of disbelief. “You seriously have a magic touch. She’s quiet now. Nico is pretending to be Batman, and Sienna’s cleaning up the kitchen… I don’t know how you do it.”“Years of practice, babe,” you said, smiling warmly. “You just have to stay calm, and they’ll follow your lead. But hey, if you need me to come home early, I’m just a call away.” Chris raised an eyebrow, a sheepish grin forming on his face. “I think we’re good now… but I don’t know if I can handle another night like this. Maybe next time you could plan a night out while the kids are asleep?” “Yeah, maybe,” you teased. “But you handled it. I’m proud of you, Dad.” “I’m not sure I’d call it handling it,” Chris said with a rueful chuckle. “But I’m surviving.” You gave him a reassuring smile, knowing he was doing his best. “You’re doing great. I’ll be home soon. Just remember—if all else fails, put on their favorite movie and let them burn off some energy.” “Got it. Thanks, babe.” As you ended the call, you chuckled to yourself, thoroughly entertained by the chaos at home. It had been nice to get a break, but honestly, you couldn’t wait to get back to your little family and see how Chris was holding up with everything.

[themoodyestj]

hey themoodyestj, did you know that not letting your partner sleep is a very big red flag?

expecting your partner to stay awake waiting for you after 12 am, red flag.

waking up at 6 am because you want to and expecting everyone else in the house to acomodate to your shedule, that's a red flag.

coming home super late and turning on lights and opening doors and intentionaly being loud with no consideration for the sleeping people in the house and waking up your partner just because you want to be lovingly welcome, that's a red flag.

even worse, coming home late, dirty or drunk, smelling terrible, and lay with your partner like that, expecting a lovely welcome, super red flag.

just because Jensen is a thoughtful husband who respects his wife doesn't mean she's abusive.

also, it's sexist to assume there's anything wrong with a husband doing simple house chores.

I have to admit, I had to take a deep breath before answering your ask. Simply because, Anon, you're dense.

And you're clearly a child. You clearly have never been married, and you clearly never have found love, because if you did, you wouldn't be writing this. You clearly are someone who is lacking a lot and self inserting with a celebrity. So let me tell you how it works in the real world with married people. hey themoodyestj, did you know that not letting your partner sleep is a very big red flag? Oh, and you clearly don't have kids, because in the real world, sometimes you can't let your partner sleep. A marriage is something you do as a couple, and sometimes you need all hands on deck. A real red flag is to let your spouse do everything while you sleep in every morning. Especially when you have kids and you're a mom. There are some things only a mother does. I'm not going to say it isn't a gesture of love to let someone sleep in, but to take it as given as just let your partner take the load while you sleep (and we're talking about an unemployed mother who is served by nannies) is a red flag. To prioritize sleep over your family while your husband who is 9 months per year away takes all the work while the rest of the year it's not even you who does the work is a red flag. Even if it's just to spend the morning all together, have breakfast together. These moments are precious and fleeting and worth waking up early for. expecting your partner to stay awake waiting for you after 12 am, red flag. If I spent nine months away from home working for the family and making the money that feeds the family? God, I'd be offended if they didn't. If my partner can stay up for parties and pretending to be a celebrity, they better stay awake to wait for me so we can have some couple's time. It's not like they will do it for the rest of the year. If I'm at home for a short period of time for the benefit of the family, they better make time for me.

waking up at 6 am because you want to and expecting everyone else in the house to acomodate to your shedule, that's a red flag.

coming home super late and turning on lights and opening doors and intentionaly being loud with no consideration for the sleeping people in the house and waking up your partner just because you want to be lovingly welcome, that's a red flag. Again, expecting is something. Willingly offering is another. You're twisting the words. I'd say expecting and not be willing to offer are both red flags, for different reasons. even worse, coming home late, dirty or drunk, smelling terrible, and lay with your partner like that, expecting a lovely welcome, super red flag. Oh boy, let's hope your soulmate never has a mishap in life, get sick, need support or need to talk at a time that is inconvenient for you. You better make a schedule for them, and tell them they need to be neat and smelling good at all times, otherwise they won't be touching the princess. You, honey, you're the red flag. Zero empathy, for crying out loud.

just because Jensen is a thoughtful husband who respects his wife doesn't mean she's abusive. No, my mutuals and I would consider her abusive for reasons that were presented already, and were either glazed over or twisted into meaning something to fit your delusion. Not that I expected any different, you're a delulu after all. Not exactly known for supporting yourself in facts and things that can actually be seen. also, it's sexist to assume there's anything wrong with a husband doing simple house chores. I... don't remember anyone ever mentioning that. In fact, I'm positive none of them does anything besides basic chores. In fact, apart from the ones Danneel did to take pictures of, I doubt she ever did any chores at all. Look, anyone with two brain cells and a bit of life experience can tell that you're either a child, someone who seriously lacks life experience or completely deluded. I don't intend to start a kindergarten war, nor do I have much patience. So let's see if you understand it this time: Cry as you may, this is my blog, my beliefs and I will write about them. I won't stop, even if it bothers you very much. In fact, bonus if it bothers you very much, sorry to say. I have been holding back, but next time maybe I won't. And if I have a pet peeve is when Anons can't reach my mutuals because they don't have the balls to show their faces, and they come for me instead. So next time you come to my inbox with an ask, keep that in mind. Or maybe just go be deluded somewhere else, with your buddies pretending doing nothing is actually doing something. Your pick.

[spectral-phases]

I'm not sure anyone from Jersey has ever written anything for Batman related stories ever.

Did you know Batman speaks 20+ languages in canon comic book sources, but not a single one of them is Italian? In the Italian crime family owned city of Gotham, in Jersey, a state with a lot of Italian Americans. Never speaks Italian, apparently. Knows Latin, though.

Some Jersey things from a native Central Jerseyan:

It is Jersey, not New Jersey. It is North Jersey, Central Jersey, and Sojo/South Jersey.

Very passionate about what the food is called. OP, ily bestie, but your North Jersey is showing. Gotham is in Sojo. It's pork roll, egg, and cheese. On a bagel or a roll with spk (salt, pepper, ketchup). They call it pork roll (not Taylor Ham, the package doesn't even call it Taylor Ham. It's a Taylor Pork Roll for crying out loud. Call it Taylor Pork or Taylor Roll and I will let you be), hoagies (not subs). If you're adding in Italian American heritage, they will kill each other over marinara being called gravy or sauce. None of them will pronounce the words like a proper Italian, and they will be very passionate about it.

Going to the shore is popular. You are very close to the shore in Jersey. Gotham is very close to the shore and the boardwalk. Which one? Just the boardwalk. Which shore? Any of them, but likely Cape May given where Gotham is by the river.

Halloween is bad? Try mischief night. Fucking outlawed in Gotham, for all the good that will do. Crane's having the time of his life.

More swearing. We like our swearing. All the batkids have a pass to swear starting at 14 because they're in Jersey.

Listen, everything? Costs too damn much. Jersey property taxes? Insane. Car Insurance? Absurd.

But if I see another person disrespect our produce? We are the garden state for a reason. Drive anywhere in Sojo/Central Jersey outside of a city, lots of farmland. Lots of farms along the highways with all their cornstalks. Local produce is huge. Going apple/peach/whatever orchard picking? Huge. Cost too much? Sure. Is it bad? No.

Jersey has a huge Latino population. We have good Mexican restaurants and many Hispanic grocery stores.

We have many Asian grocery stores. We have a lot of all types of ethnic grocery stores in addition to all the "regular" chains. Our chains? Shoprite for discount/average prices, Stop & Shop for expensive, Trader Joes/Whole Foods/Wegman's if you have more money than God. Aldi's new. There's a deli everywhere you turn and bagel shops and small mom and pop grocers.

There is a large variety of food available here and types of restaurants that everyone eats at, even outside of the cities.

Speed limits? Nobody here has heard of those awful things, much less has the time to obey them. Sure would be nice if everyone else could learn to drive, though. Or park. Dear god. Can the rich assholes learn to park?

You must like the Boss to live in Jersey. Rules are rules. Who is the Boss? Pains me to have to explain Bruce Springsteen to you (I don't actually listen to Bruce Springsteen, mostly because I will hear him no matter where I go at some point during the year). Same thing goes for Bon Jovi.

More Sojo things? Aside from hockey (Devils) it's Philly teams or bust. Obviously, they support their Gotham teams in Gotham, and probably outside of Gotham. We are very salty about the Jets having their stadium in North Jersey but being a New York team. Fuck you, Jets. Fuck you.

Doing a high-school prom thing? The other students are going to Wildwood afterwards. What is Wildwood? It's a shore town with a boardwalk.

All these DPxDC fics and not ONCE is one of the Batman taking Danny to eat a Taylor Ham, Egg and Cheese sandwich. Sacrilege.

[abirddogmoment]

The problem about Mav having been a take everywhere kind of dog is that I can deeply feel his absence no matter what I'm doing or where I am.

[lateseptemberdawn]

No but like. Men could be the lowest of the low, not be knowing the most basic shit, inept at wit or anything else pertaining to the brain or mind or conscious, and yet the audacity be there. Like. How.

[hana-akari]

It felt like it was all happening so fast. In one moment, she was throwing things at him and demanding he leave. The next she was pinned to her bed. Crying out his name. Body completely bruised up by him. Sakura made the terrible mistake of raising her eyes to meet his. Hooks of his own making sunk into her very being. Rewriting her to his image. To become his perfect, loyal doll. In a blink of an eye every affection she had for anyone else was ripped away. Now, in her mind, she believed she loved him and had always loved him. This was the wonderful moment she’s been wanting. The moment of her becoming completely his. Sakura was completely under his spell now. She felt so happy and complete that  he was using her. Her only want in life was to please him. Allow him to use and do whatever he wanted to her and her body. She was so trusting of him now. He knew best because she was his. Only his.

Itachi Uchiha’s perfect doll.

“I-itachi!!” Sakura blissfully called out his name, bucking her hips to his thrusts eagerly. She was so close to cumming again, “I-itachi!! Ah!~ I-i’m so happy to finally be yours!” Only his and no one else. Only he was allowed to touch her. Make her feel this good. “P-please… Let me bare your seed.~ I-i wish to commit my whole body to you.~” Sakura begged in a desperate tone. All belonged to him. Mind, body, womb. She wanted him to claim it all.

And so he did.

A loud, blissful cry left Sakura as he rammed deep inside her. Flooding her insides with his hot seed. It almost burned as it filled her womb and spilled over her insides staining it white. Marking it with his very being. The pleasure of it all pushed her over the edge a third time. Her body shook as pleasure rolled through her body, “I-itachi!” She gasped his name. Her insides gripping around him, quivering. The orgasm was only made more intense by the fact he kept fucking her through it. Sakura felt like she was going to pass out from how good she felt. The mix of pain and pleasure was perfect because it was him that was doing. The crushing grip on her breast and hip left bruises in the shape of his fingers and she didn’t care. She was happy to wear the mark he left on her. Having no interest in even healing them. Just letting them proudly be displayed on her body.

“I l-love you so much… I-i’m so happy.~” Sakura felt so warm and complete. More so than she ever had before. To think just minutes ago she was begging him not to get her pregnant and now she was happy he was doing so. He now had her wrap tight under his control.

In this moment, as she danced to Itachi’s tune, the maestro laid his spell upon her-- You were his. His, his, his. Only he can make you feel like this. Only he could make her feel whole. His voice whispered silently in the depths of her mind, spreading its hooks, enthralling and compelling. Her mind was his, open and trusting, and the wolf made his comfortable den in it, feeding and twisting. Itachi sped up, if possible, drunk off of victory and the heady pleasure she provided. "Sakura," he growled, tense... Then molten fire flooded her, his seed spilling rich in her fertile fields, Itachi still fucking her through it. His grip went crushing on her hips, on her breasts. Only his. His perfect little toy, his doll.

[backfliips]

I work at an alternative school for teen students who for many various reasons are unable to be functional in a traditional typical classroom setting - disciplinary reasons, anxiety, emotional disorders, trauma, etc. - and I assist with a lot of english classes. It makes me a little sad that the teacher I work the most closely with hates the catcher in the rye so much because I’ve been rereading it and I think my students would relate really closely to Holden Caulfield. Caulfield may be annoying and whiny and privileged and obnoxious but I think the narrative of a teenager who acts out and postures himself to be older than he actually is and is struggling to comprehend and process a lot of trauma in his life so he does things he can’t even explain to himself and acts self destructive and lashes out to other people and has emotional breakdowns for seemingly no reason would be REALLY relatable to a lot of my students and I wish I could teach it to them...

[cocoabeloved]

just a quick reminder - absolutely NO joe alwyn slander/hate is welcome or allowed on my blog. it's frankly exhausting seeing how much swifties villianize him simply because of his break up of taylor. you don't even know him. neither do i, which is why i'm not going to pretend like i do. if you don't like what i said, that's respectfully not my problem. just leave the poor man alone, where's your human empathy god.

HEAVY rant down in the tags so beware.

[widevibratobitch]

im so fucking mad at myself at my mother at her dead husband at god fucking knows what. "concentrate on yourself" well i cant can i. now more than anything i should and i cant. losing my fucking mind istg