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a-mint-bear · 2 months ago

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Comfort Object

Male Yandere x Reader

You see a really weird "job" post online, and the money seems too good to be true. But you aren't really in a position where you can turn it down...

You hope it doesn't get weird.

Parts: [ x / 2 ]

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It was a very… concerning “job” posting.

But desperate times, and all that.

It had shown up about a week ago, and it wasn’t hard to see why no one had taken the poster up on it as of yet.

Bedmate Needed

● 11 pm to 6 am

● $25/hour up front

● Riverside Motel

● Room 44

● Not a sex thing

The last note seemed tacked on in a later edit, but it was still… not great.

You’d have to be either a gullible idiot or a desperate one to go for a job like this. Unfortunately, you were the latter. Very much so.

You couldn’t take another night on the street. It was getting so cold out. The promise of a warm bed was almost enough to lure you in on its own. But the money… 175 bucks just to sleep in the same bed as some internet creep?

Despite the clarification in the post, this had to be a sex thing, right?

You hadn’t gone that far, despite everything. It’s not like you hadn’t considered it… but the thought was too terrifying. Making yourself completely vulnerable to a stranger that could just decide you were less than a person and do whatever they wanted to you? You had to draw the line somewhere.

But at this point, you weren’t sure that there was a line you weren’t willing to cross anymore.

. . .

The Motel wasn’t the seediest you’d ever seen around town but it wasn’t a place you would’ve voluntarily stayed at even two months ago. Back when you had options.

Creepy post guy opened the door after a couple of knocks, with an awkward, pregnant pause between them. He wasn’t quite what you expected for an internet creep, but he was still a sight to see.

Really bad posture and dark, greasy-looking hair, with the darkest circles under his eyes you’d ever seen. He looked like he was about to pass out at any second, but he held it together long enough to gesture you into the room.

“Hey…” His voice was low but he sounded nervous. And so, so tired. “You’re… You’re a little early. That’s…that’s fine. Uh, come in.”

You felt his eyes on you as you passed him, and it didn’t help your anxiousness. Not one bit.

“Hey so, I-I really…I uh, need a shower.” He stumbled over his words with a breathy, nervous laugh. “Unless you wanna sleep next to a… fuckin’ sweaty mess all night. Do you wanna go first or…?”

You must’ve looked nervous because his eyes went wider, digging into his pocket.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to… Oh, uh…here.” He nodded, pressing the money into your hand. “Up front, just… just like I said. You just…just seemed like you maybe sorta needed one too.”

Some part of you must’ve still had an ounce of pride left because your whole body felt on fire with shame, embarrassment so consuming that you froze up. It had been a couple of days…

He just looked away, seeming like he was embarrassed himself.

“I w-wasn’t gonna like… try to join you or peep on you or nothin’!” He tried to assure you, eyes darting in a panic and talking a bit too fast. “If I, like, go first? I won’t get mad if you change your mind and leave… I get it. I’m not gonna like… go after you or call the cops or nothin’ like that. I just…”

He stared at the floor, nails digging into his arm as he seemed like he was having trouble breathing.

“I really… I really need this.” He was so quiet, but his voice was so desperate.

You couldn’t really be considering this, could you?

He seemed more like a weird, awkward, sad guy than a real danger or some kind of pervert.

And you really did need a hot shower.

It seemed like a safer bet to have him go first, if you were really going through with this. And it would give you a chance to look around the room for a spot to tuck away your pocket knife, just in case.

When he was in the shower, you did just that. The spot between the mattress and bed frame would be easy to grab at if things got hinky.

If things got all touchy-feely, as you suspected they would, him finding that on you or leaving it in your pocket when your clothes got tossed wherever would be really inconvenient.

Steam rolled out of the bathroom when he stepped out, shirtless but with sweatpants and a towel around his neck. He was thin, almost alarmingly so, but you could still see muscle, enough to pose a problem should he decide to overpower you.

This was your last chance to back out, before you’d be vulnerable to this odd stranger.

But even if you left, the money wouldn’t last long, and it’s not like you had any other options.

You were so grateful that the motel tub wasn’t disgusting, but you would’ve gotten clean regardless. Two days worth of sweat and funk was washed away and it felt so heavenly… But it was hard to relax when you were trying to stay hyper alert of any noise that could be that man trying to get in or even eavesdrop.

But…

Nothing.

You finished your shower and brushed your teeth, doing everything you could to feel clean that a motel bathroom could provide. And there was no sign of the guy.

But you had to go back out there eventually. You supposed you could lock yourself in here and get a full night’s sleep indoors, even if it was on the floor of a motel bathroom with your back against the door, but part of you just said “fuck it” and warily peeked around the doorway into the bedroom.

The lights in the room were dim, but warm. He was sitting on the end of the bed, one knee tucked into his chest, staring at the tv as the bright colors of a nightly talk show reflected in his eyes, but something told you he wasn’t really watching. His eyes met yours and you froze.

“It’s almost eleven…” He mumbled, his head resting awkwardly on his shoulder. His hand ghosted over the spot on the bed next to him. “… Will... will you stay?”

So many thoughts raced through your head. What would happen if you laid down beside him? You could probably deal with sex… even if it felt a bit wrong. But if he wanted to hurt you?

Your brain reminded you:

What do you really have to lose?

When you told him you would stay, sitting next to him, you could see him relax. Just a bit.

“If you still want to leave-”

But you cut him off, almost afraid he would talk you out of it after you’d made up your mind.

Avoiding his stare, you told him you had nowhere to go.

The bed was cold, it might take a bit to warm up with the two of you in it, but it was the least of your concerns at that moment.

“So it’s...” He’d spoken up so suddenly, you hoped he didn’t see you flinch. He was staring at the ceiling, seeming just a tiny bit calmer. “... it’s fine if you just… lay there or h-hold onto me, or play on your phone or whatever, anything is fine. Just… just don’t leave ‘til mornin’. Okay?”

A worrying pause, but you told him you understood.

And that was that. He laid next to you unmoving for almost an hour before you had the nerve to move at all, shifting slowly to your side to face him.

His eyes were shut, his breathing even, but somehow you knew he was still awake. It was like he was trying to sleep but it just wasn’t coming to him. He looked so worn down, like he could just keel over any second. It definitely made him less intimidating, but you weren’t letting your guard down, no matter how much your body was screaming at you to just let go.

Despite your better judgement, you wondered if he really was being genuine about this not being a sex thing. It was a relief, sure, but it just raised more questions.

Why were you here?

. . .

You’d stopped looking at the bedside clock a while ago. It had to have been hours by then.

Your anxiety and dread somehow felt quieter under the lull of impending sleep. Despite everything, your body was at least grateful for a warm bed and hot shower, and if you didn’t sleep there now, you didn’t know when you’d be able to sleep somewhere warm any time soon.

Every moment that ticked by, you felt your resolve slipping. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, just to let go… This whole situation was weird, but you just wanted to sleep.

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

He hoped against everything that he would just fall asleep.

Just this once, he didn’t want to have to follow through with it. But he was so damn tired. There was this ache behind his eyes that he could feel in his bones, his mind never stopped racing…

He could feel your body heat in the bed next to him. You had either been very scared or very considerate, you’d only moved once since you laid down with him.

He hated that he had to do this. He felt sorry for you, he really did. But it was drowned out by the buzzing in the back of his brain. The constant whispers in his ear.

There had been so many before now, it was a miracle he hadn’t gotten caught. But this was a huge, dangerous city. Everyone in it was just a blip to anyone paying attention.

He could feel their skin under his palms buzzing at the back of his brain. How their eyes stared into his, burning with betrayal, fear, helplessness. How he saw them fade away.

How it was the only thing that worked to let him finally sleep. The only thing that quieted the whispers, at least for a little bit.

Some booked it after getting the money. Some just showed up and straight-up robbed him. Some tried to leave in the middle of the night, thinking he was asleep. But if they stayed and fell asleep, that was that.

He told himself that he gave them all a chance.

If you managed to stay up all night, you’d be safe. But he really needed this… It was already day three, and he’d never made it past day five without completely losing it. Trying to fight this, it was too hard. The longer he stayed awake, trying to avoid what had to happen, the worse he felt. The louder the voice got. The deeper the ache in his bones. But the more often he did it, the easier it got. And that was worse in a different way.

It was wrong. He wasn’t so deep in it that he couldn’t see that. The morning after, he always hated himself and what he did.

But as the days went on, it would all creep back in. And doing it again felt less and less horrifying to him.

You were scared. He could tell. And you had every reason to be, he told himself. But it just meant it would take you longer to fall asleep.

He could wait all night. And if you made it the full seven hours, you weren’t what he needed. You’d be free from him, from this. Hopefully you wouldn’t come back, no matter how badly you needed the money.

He wondered what you meant by having nowhere to go.

But he tried not to wonder too much. It would make this harder.

He could hear your breathing getting slower, your body relaxing into the bed. You wouldn’t last much longer.

His eyes shot open when he felt you suddenly touch him, tucking your forehead into his shoulder. You weren’t quite asleep, a cuddler? He almost laughed to himself when half-asleep you looked a bit frustrated, like it wasn’t enough.

You muttered something about being cold, lazily scooting your body closer to him up the bed. He felt his breath catch when suddenly, his head was pulled to you, tucked into your chest as your arm circled him. He was suddenly the little spoon, but facing you. He could hear your heartbeat.

He wanted to say something, wake you up or wriggle free to make what he had to do easier on you when you fell asleep. He felt a hand in his hair, playing with it and idle gentle nails on his scalp.

It was… nice. Everything felt calm, the buzzing and horrible thoughts were still there but they were being drowned out by the warmth of your skin, the thump of your heart in his ear.

You were mumbling something. He held his breath, trying to hear.

You told him, or whoever you were dreaming about, maybe even no one at all, that he was okay. That he was safe.

He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Something was different this time. He felt all his control slipping away, and for once, he wasn’t scared.

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You woke to a sunbeam across your face, and the strange man in your arms, sound asleep. According to your phone, it was 10 am. You were grateful for the extra hours in a warm bed, but would he be mad? Did he have somewhere to be?

You couldn’t remember anything past drifting off next to him, but the two of you were tangled together, he seemed so comfortable.

Now that it was over, and your anxieties were much quieter, you really got a good look at the guy. He wasn’t… unattractive, you supposed. He was all elbows and ribs but laying against your chest made him look so soft and harmless.

Wasn’t the worst way you’d ever made 175 bucks.

You wondered if he’d shell out the extra 100, or if that would be pushing your luck.

Either way, it would be best to wake him up.

Gently scratching at his scalp, you told him it was getting late.

You watched as his eyes struggled to open, and for a few calm moments, he just laid against you. After a beat, he gasped and jolted up, head swiveling around the room in a panic.

“I…” He seemed really out of it, almost scared. “I actually…”

He stared at you, eyes wide. You told him it was ten in the morning, hoping everything was okay and if it wasn’t, that he wouldn’t take it out on you.

He grabbed you by the shoulders, and for a moment you were sure something bad was going to happen, but somehow, it was even worse.

He was crying.

Breaking down, sobbing hard as he just kept staring at you. Even with the odd night you’d just had, this was somehow the weirdest part.

Despite yourself, you asked him if he was okay. He pulled himself together and you were startled again when he touched your face, his thumb gently grazing your cheek. It was tender and sweet, and it was freaking you out a little. Just a tad.

“You… It was you…”

All you could think to ask was if you should get going, maybe trying to make it seem like you had someplace to be, or were at least trying to be considerate of his time. But it didn’t seem like he was taking the hint.

He grabbed your hands in his, the sudden contact made you jump. He pulled them to his chest, he was too close. The way he was looking at you…

“Can we… Can we do this again? Like tonight? Please?” He was practically begging, the look in his eyes changing. That nervous, achingly tired gaze was hopeful. And so warm.

“You can have the room, if that’s what you need!” he offered, maybe somehow having picked up on your current situation. “I can pay more too. Just p-please…”

He held your palm to his cheek, staring up at you.

“I need you.”

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a bit of a different one from me, but i kind of liked how it turned out

that feeling when your new yandere was totally gonna off you but you were just too comfy

he's never gonna let you go. you're the only thing keepin him from killing again, ya know?

i don't have a ton of yanderes that actually kill, as odd as that seems. but this guy is one of them

he's not supposed to be a huge commentary on any particular mental health conditions, i did a bit of "research" into psychosis induced insomnia (using that term VERY loosely), but like does he hear voices because he can't sleep, or can he not sleep because he hears voices? who can say? certainly not I, the dummy who made him

i wrote this one pretty much right after my last big deadline ended, but it got reworked a bit cause it just needed some tweaks:

the yandere started out as tired but crass, kind of a dick, and when he switched after that good night's sleep it felt off. It felt more interesting if he was a bit pathetic and creepy, it felt like less of a red flag for the reader to stick around

the reader was originally going to be a straight up s*x worker that got hired by the yandere for him to kill, but it didn't really feel like my place to make that commentary on violence against s*x workers or to more or less soften it with a yandere love interest. it just didn't feel right for something so unserious

but ive been having horrible writer's block lately, so i thought i'd finally put this one out. i need to read/play some yandere stuff and get inspired. let me know if you have any recommendations y'all ✌️

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blkkizzat · 2 months ago

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A WATER TYPE MILF, DEM TIDDIES STAY ON SQUIRTLE.ᐟ

*REPOSTED! tumblr sucks. plz boost!*

♡ thots expanded from this post ♡ 𝓬𝔀: MDNI 18+ ONLY. choso x milf!reader, toji x milf!reader, although not rly full on choji. a lil fluff, a lil angst, a lil crack —tho mostly filthy domestic smut dripping in milf kinks. [plz dm me for h-anime name if you want it]

half-curse roommate!choso who you moved in with because its not like you can live with your on-again-off-again babydaddy!toji —the sorcerer killer —with a whole ass baby. although toji is an active co-parent (well, as active as a paid assassin who is gone most days of the week can be) what’s glaringly apparent to you is that toji doesn't have the best reputation. and you having the cursed energy of a mere window meant you couldn't protect yourself nor your 6 month old baby girl, should a long list of people come looking for him. staying with him, according to you, is out of the question. so when you need to move out of your apt and you heard from yuji that choso needed a roommate and didn't mind a young infant, you were sold. plus, toji thought he was a 'harmless enough lookin' chump' who could at least put up a fight against any threat… and the rent was cheap.

half-curse roommate!choso who's like a godsend as he's so helpful and considerate of you and the baby. he doesn't mind the all the crying. or that you are too exhausted at times to clean up properly. and that 9 times out of 10 you look a general hot ass mess while at home. if that weren't enough, choso would even play with your baby girl, letting you get in a much needed nap in. you tell him every time you’d only need 20 mins and he can wake you up but choso will sit with her on the sofa until you wake up. possibly hours later, but choso claimed he was happy to get to act like a big brother again. a natural born 'big brother type', choso will watch cocomelon for hours and let her cute chubby fingers tug on his pigtails. all while he makes funny faces that without fail guarantees a burst of tiny giggles, even if she'd previously been crying.

half-curse roommate!choso who also doesn't seem to mind when toji, said actual baby daddy shows up unannounced, usually at some ungodly hour to 'see his girls'. although you suspect that by 'his girls' instead of you and the baby, toji means your milk swollen tits and your creamy mommy pussy, as toji spends more time interacting with them than you or the baby. it's only a 2 bedroom apt too, so as not to wake the baby, you are usually fucking in the living room. not very subtly either. it's not like you’re the one lacking in decency though. you always full-on deny toji sex in favor of heavy petting under a blanket. yet after toji's made you lather his fingers in your squirt for the third time that night, your mommy brain, still trying to balance your hormones, goes completely smooth. its easy then for toji's minor requests for you to return the favor by 'just warming his cock up a lil' bit' always lead to major backshots off the edge of the couch. those deadly backshots, were how you got pregnant in the first place, mind you. thankfully, while you're face-down-ass up, you’re blissfully unaware. otherwise you’d be mortified that the sounds of your cushion-muffled moans and wet flesh slapping together drown out the shuffling scurry of feet and carefully shut doors when your roommate has to cross the living room to use the bathroom in the middle of the night.

half-curse roommate!choso who although you think is super sweet, being half curse makes him a bit naive. still, his endearing boyish charm is much welcomed when you are so used to toji's gruff and blunt personality. you also love choso's reactions when you flatter him with compliments like: 'you're the best choso!' or 'what would i do without you?' choso's ears will always redden he becomes bashful and quiet. you really mean every word tho! although you always get the biggest reaction, widening eyes and a blush that extends past his ears to his cheerful cheeks when you adoringly profess 'choso, you'll make such a good daddy one day ~♡ ' if he's even choked on his own spit a few times and you have to hide your giggles as you pat his back until he can swallow properly again.

half-curse roommate!choso who deliberately takes night shifts now. not just to give you your privacy for when toji comes over, but he tells you it's so he could watch the baby in case your nanny, who has bailed on you a few times before, doesn't show up. when you protest, telling choso he doesn't need to rearrange his whole life for you, he won't hear anything else about it. he's half curse he reasons, he's more suited to patrolling the night shifts anyway. you honestly don't even know how to thank choso who is honestly more of a co-parent then toji at this point.

half-curse roommate!choso who practically has a heart attack when he comes into the kitchen on his way to work, to find you with your bare breasts out feeding your baby girl on one boob and a pump machine on the other. you quickly have to calm him down and let him know that it's a perfectly natural thing to breastfeed in the open and is nothing him nor you need to be ashamed about. although it's true you usually pumped at night when choso was already at work so your baby could have fresh bottles for the morning, today your breasts were extra sore from being so full and your baby girl much too fussy. so that's what had you in the kitchen for an impromptu feed n' pump session.

half-curse roommate!choso who apologizes for his reaction as he didn't mean to offend you (he didn't, but he's soooo cute for thinking he did). opening up to you, choso divulges he never knew any of this as he didn't grow up with a mom. you knew choso was half-curse but you're shocked to discover he's a literal test tube baby and thereby completely unaware of most healthy parent-child dynamics. choso was definitely never breastfed. you smile at his genuine curiosity when he asks you to tell him more. so you explain that this impromptu feeding is more to pacify the baby. other than nourishment, nursing was one important way a mother could bond with a child so young. it provided the baby comfort and was one of the best ways to get them to settle down. and just like magic before choso's eyes your baby girl had been soothed in a matter of minutes, her anxious gurgles calming into soft coos as she sleeps.

half-curse roommate!choso whose desperately tries to retain eye contact as he converses with you at the kitchen table. your totally clonked-out baby girl had unlatched and you proceeded to have a normal conversation with him like your whole swollen n' leaky tit wasn't so casually exposed. choso berates himself to focus and 'act normal'. he knows its normal, you told him as much yourself and you're being normal. so why does choso feel everything but normal right now? choso panics. It’s way too hot in here! he had to get out, like now —what time was it again? standing up abruptly, choso sudden motion startles you when he announces he would be late to work, if he didn't leave right now. choso immediately regrets it though once he sees your furrowed brow and plump lil pout as you had been enjoying your conversation. choso knows because of the baby and toji that you don't get out much. frantic to make amends, choso can't help but to pay you a compliment on his way out the door. now it was your turn to blush wildly when he sincerely looked you in the eye and says—

“heh, i wish i grew up with a mommy, especially one as lovely as you.”

half-curse roommate!choso who comes back home earlier than usual that night, around 3 am but looks like he's worked a whole weeks worth of night shifts from his worn down appearance. his robes are tattered in various places, the bags under his eyes are more pronounced than usual, and wait... is that blood!? it took him a while to snap out of his dissociative melancholy, to notice you were even awake at this hour. trying to keep it together, choso gives you a smile that doesn't quite reach his own gaze. he honestly expected you to be asleep, as your baby girl usually slept well throughout the night. but you told him she had woken up an hour ago hungry and now you couldn't fall back asleep. truly though, you are a sight for sore eyes to choso. yet choso still cant help but feel more like a burden and failure when you begin to worry over if he had any injuries. the blood on him isn't his though, its civilians. so many, he hadn't been able to save everyone when a special grade curse had attacked a large apartment complex. 'its not your fault choso!' you along with everyone else had told him but it doesn't make it hurt any less. seeing people cry out for their fallen loved ones, he knew that pain all too well. no one else should have to suffer it while he had the power to prevent it.

half-curse roommate!choso who you make it your mission to comfort. he's always doing everything to help you, it's the least you can do in his time of need! gently you drag choso by one of his muscular arms to the sofa. you motion for him him lay his head on your shoulder and once he is settled, your arm cradles his head with delicate pats. however, it’s when you feel choso’s silent, wet tears hit your skin and he can no longer hold back his trembling, maternal instincts kick in. You immediately guide him to lie on his side, pulling him against your plush, buoyant chest so you can cradle him close, slipping effortlessly into full "mommy-mode." you coo lovingly for him to 'let it all out' as he sobs. you figure grown man or not choso is unlikely to ever have been given the grace just to unload on someone. he certainly wouldn't with his only remaining brother, yuji, who choso would never dream of burdening with his own problems. yet, like an angel, your warm hushes and gentle rocking soothes choso, wrapping him in a comforting embrace like a much needed security blanket. With soft caresses, you brush his wispy bangs away from his handsome face, keeping them from sticking to his tear stained skin. choso in turn pushes his face deeper into your bosom, clutching onto you like a lifeline.

half-curse roommate!choso who you'd been holding for quite a while when it finally dawns on you the increasing puddle of moisture you feel on your chest isn't the result of his teary sobs but your leaky tits. omg owww! and no sooner did you notice that fact then the familiar ache of them being too full confirms it. its clear to you now choso's crying had triggered your milk production as it if he had been your own child! although speaking of baby girls, choso looked so sweet and content with face buried into your plush curves, his own tears now dried. you absolutely hate to have to move him. but you knew you needed to because while you weren't ashamed of your completely natural bodily reactions —you also had enough couth not to drip your breast milk all over someone's face!

half-curse roommate!choso whose cheek you swipe feather like touches over as you tell him you have to get up. choso's response of course though is to hold on to you that much tighter. his croaky whispers plead to you, proclaiming how this 'feels so nice' —outright begging to stay like this for just a bit longer. and while his sappy puppy dog pout is activating something in you, and you want to give-in, the increasing swell of your tits is becoming unbearable. you need to go pump, like asap. so you try to bargin with choso that you can hold him more in a bit but right now you are soiling yourself and him.

half-curse roommate!choso who curiously enough, had been oblivious that the soaked wetness gathering between the both of you is no longer coming from him. daring to lick his lips, choso whimpers as he can taste the creamy, and mildly sugary, secretions that settled on them. you're so mortified to see choso's face covered in a sheen of your breastmilk you fail to notice just how intensely he’s been staring at your nipples. your pert lil' buds, practically greeting him, beckoning to him, centimeters from his face through your now soaked, transparent white pj top.

half-curse roommate!choso who upon zeroing in on the small pearly beads of milk pebbling through the fabric of your shirt, instinctively leans in to lap it up with a tentative lick. the action shocks you as you gasp, swallowing hard. your breasts feel so heavy with milk and are positively aching to release even the tiniest bit of it. unfortunately, choso's continuous microlicks only tease the idea of relief, the texture of his tongue chafing your soppy tee against your sore nips which had begun to tighten even harder— it was pure torture.

"c-choso!"

half-curse roommate!choso who when hearing his name squeaked out in such a pitchy cry immediately stops. instantly realizing what he's doing a stream of "s-shit shit, m'sorry, m'sorry!!" appologies slur out of him. choso looks up at you sheepishly, face burning in shame as he continues. "i-it's just that you're so soft n' warm... n' i've never felt so safe anywhere before, well ever! i swear it! i-i know that's no excuse but it tasted s'gud..." not being able to look you in the eyes anymore you can tell choso is about to pull away and instantly your fingers tangle up around one of his pigtails, holding him in place. you shake your head. "mm n-no, cho if you want to have some more, you can... if it's not too weird for you." all your good sensibilities are screaming at you, this isn't a good idea. never in a million years did you expect to be in this situation with choso. however such is life, and the facts are now: its late, your tiddies ache miserably and choso is giving very much eager baby girl ready to be nursed. how could you be expected to have the willpower to disengage??

"ya know, you'd actually be doing me a favor cho... pumps can be so uncomfortable and a mouth always feels so much better… um, is that okay?"

half-curse roommate!choso who thinks its more than okay and from then on gleefully volunteers to become your living, breathing, personal breast pump. you had to dump so much of what you would normally pump anyway, your body working overtime to produce milk as your baby girl definitely had the appetite of her often absentee daddy who at least would send money for bills and diapers consistently. sweet baby jesus, toji would most certainly go slap the fuck off if he found out about these breast pump!choso sessions. but tbh? fuck toji because he isn't here to drain your overactive milk ducts, choso is. and choso is so eager to do it too! its toji's own damn fault you decide. just like you decided to rationalize to yourself that choso latching onto your milk bloated tiddies is strictly quid pro quo. choso's simply helping you drain your tits and you're giving him the intimacy he so desperately craves. this is a friendly thing… you’re healing his inner-child and fears of abandonment —if anything you're like his mom, right? perfectly platonic.

half-curse roommate!choso who forces you to confront the fact there's nothing platonic to you about him so lewdly moaning out 'mommy' as he swirls his tongue around the plump fat of your puffy areolas. you can barely see his face now as choso isn't content unless he's practically suffocating himself under your heavy mammaries while he nurses on them. you swear choso would swallow your whole boob completely if he could get it all in his mouth. not leaving the other ignored, Choso’s hand gently bounces and massages the one he isn’t sucking, stimulating milk flow to be ready for when her turn comes. you suppose this was also around the same time he started calling you 'mommy' and that you'd end your pump sessions with your thong wet, sticky and practically glued onto your twitching cunny.

half-curse roommate!choso who causes your thoughts wander to more debased and salacious fantasies the longer he's latched onto you. would choso latch on just as well to your clit? would he smother himself just as deeply into yout cunt? and most importanly...would he enjoy suckling out the savory umami flavor of your pussy juices just as much as your sweet creamy tits? you imagine choso would do just as good of a job coaxing your cunt to spill its nectar as he did with your lactating breasts. these lewd ponderings ensure that by the end of every one of choso's feedings your pussy would be aching far more deeply than your tits ever were. but there was one BIG problem preventing this from becoming your reality...

half-curse roommate!choso who you aren't getting any sexual vibes from. at all. you think, like a lot of things, choso is clueless. so of course he doesn't know how often your clit pokes out between your pussy lips to throb to the flick of his tongue on your stiffened peaks. nor how your actual tummy would flutter, abs sucking in aggressively when he'd accidentally rake his teeth over your pert flesh... how could he? he wasn't even hard! your 'baby girl' choso would even doze off at times, all the while languidly slurping your soggy nipples raw. although it's not like you could really tell for certain... choso is always in baggy sweats or robes. you'd convinced yourself though that even if choso was a little slow on the uptake, he was still a man. and you knew exactly how men could be, thanks to toji. there's no way he could have contained his urges over a half dozen times if he was felt anything erotic about the way he’s so viciously slurping up the suds of his spit and your milk. choso is so sloppy with it, there’s rarely a moment where milk isn’t dribbling down from the corners of his lips.

half-curse roommate!choso who you are able to confirm definitely gets hard when after a nursing session, you spy him in the bathroom through the crack of the door. choso failed to shut it all the way. this gives you the perfect silver of a view to see him hunched over and resting his forearm on the wall, as he frantically jerks himself over the toilet. much of choso's black undershirt is currently stuffed into his mouth, giving him chipmunk cheeks as he attempts to silence his needy whimpers. the entirety of his sculpted abs and pecs are on display and your eyes can’t stop their journey to drift lower and lower. your own legs rub together as you notice how much choso is actually shaking, ferally chasing his nirvana as he thrusts his—rather large n' hefty cock —into his pre soaked palm. holy shit he had to be as big as toji! you're openly gawking, the crack in the door opening a little wider with your face pressing against it but choso isn't even in this reality anymore to be interrupted. his eyes squeeze shut as he envisions his thick cock between your bouncing tits, your sweet nourishing milk oozing over his balls. safe to say, choso had been extremely hard up this entire time. you find out just how hard up too when after immediately cumming his dick is still twitching as he starts stroking himself once more, you’d stand there while he would do it do twice more too.

half-curse roommate!choso whose eyes fly open during your very next feeding session when not 5 minutes in your delicate hand cups his dick over his sweats outta nowhere. oh he's VERY hard. choso is a hair away from bussin right then when he feels your silky smooth hands sneak beneath his sweats grasp his hefty cock. his breath hitches around your breast as he chokes on your milk from you running your thumb over his wet slit. choso's fat round cockhead already dampened his swampy shorts with pre. you can't even fit your hand all the way around him but that didn't stop choso's eyes from rolling back into his head when you give him those first few pumps. soft grip twisting using the liquid already running out of his tip as lubricant.

"ungh, whaa...?"

half-curse roommate!choso who can't even succinctly question what's going on because the fact you actually have your pretty palm around his cock is melting his mind and destroying any sense he has of space and time. this had to be a wonderful dream? had he somehow fallen asleep, drowned and or smothered himself in your breasts and this was heaven? it felt like it. shit, his own rough hand could never compare. you sweetly blow a kiss down at him, your movements only increasing in speed and friction.

"you earned this, cho. it's only fair mommy milks you after you've done such a good job for mommy being her pump baby..."

half-curse roommate!choso who hisses when you fully tug his engorged length out of his shorts. his cock pulses angrily, still inflamed even as the cool air hits it. fresh hot tears run down choso’s cheeks and spill on your chest as the pleasure is almost unbearable for him. choso won't last long the way his red tip is sobbing, soaking on to his quivering belly and you know it. "

c'mon baby. be a good boy and cum for mommy, yeah?"

you moan as choso nips and sucks ferally at your tits, other hand twisting and pinching your wet n puffy nipples enough to make you whine for even more. god, you’d never been this sensitive??would you finally cum just from your tits? watching choso fall to pieces in your lap and on your breast is something you didn't know how much you needed until this very moment.

"mommy m'c-c-cumming!"

lifting his hips to thrust up into your hand, choso spurts his frothy load like a supersoaker. it’s like a geyser, so much more than you'd ever seen a man cum before —and by your hand alone! your fingers attempts to contain his vicious cum but it spurts out everywhere. syrupy semen coats him, the sofa, and especially your forearm. a deviously sweet smile plays on your lips when your hand doesn't stop its twisting and pumping motions. getting every last bit of milk out, like choso had always done for you.

"mmm' nah cho-cho, i think you can give mommy more right?"

sniffling around your breast choso blissfully pleas for your to wait but his greedy little hips never stop, chasing even more ecstasy despite his over sensitive cock making his head swim.

"m-mommy m'pweaseeee..."

"mommy? huh? the fuck is all this bullshit!?"

oh whoops, when did toji get here?

half-curse roommate!choso who you have to shield from the wrath of babydaddy!toji who is totally crashing tf out over you catching you in such a compromising with choso. toji is roaring for you to get out of the way so he can 'handle' this. you refuse, telling toji he’d never see you again, your pussy or your tits... not to mention never see his daughter, if he harmed a single hair on choso's pigtailed head. your voice, elevated to a yelling to match toji’s, is what sets your daughter off and you demand toji go get her. you’re putting papa bear on time out. besides he needs to go cool off and spend time with his baby girl, who rarely sees him when she’s actually awake. you weren't in any kind of relationship with toji so he had no right to be angry. surprisingly, toji just grumbles, and obeys. glaring death at choso on the way to your bedroom. he's barating himself for even thinking that dweeby loser was harmless. although toji coulda swore choso was a eunuch at first glance.

babydaddy!toji who honestly, isn't even livid over seeing your freshly manicured nails, that he'd cash app'd you the money for, overflowing with choso's cum. your grip, still stroking the last spurts from his spent cock. a sympathy hand job wasn't too surprising really. especially since toji knew fapping is exactly what the lil' emo cuck did in the bathroom the nights toji actually spent over. choso would pathetically beat his meat to the squelchy sounds of your stretched, wet pussy, farting around toji's girth, ripping through your guts.

babydaddy!toji isn't even particularly upset with choso's pathetic display of tears, cumming like a whiny bitch boy while calling you his 'mommy'. disgusting. no frankly, what's really got toji hot and wanting to spill choso's blood is the massive messy milk ring pooling around choso's mouth and running down his chin. rage seethes through toji at the revelation: it's choso's fault toji hadn't been getting as much milk lately when he'd come over to play with his favorite girls (your tits).

half-curse roommate!choso who doesn't know how bad toji is plotting to get him out of the picture for good. somehow without harming him and pissing you off. toji wouldn't stand for this much longer though, that milk was meant for just for toji (and his daughter ofc, he supposes).

tsk, fuck! —suckin’ on those jumbo mommy milkers was the only reason why babydaddy!toji had worked so hard to get you fucking pregnant in the first place. >:(

♡ strictly prohibited: ai, copy, plagiarism, redistribution, translations. ♡

𝓪𝓷: i'm ovulating and i need one of these men to put a baby in me. choso and toji with lactating kinks make my brain go crazy. one day ill write the gojo x nanami x milf!reader lactation fic based off one of my fav h-animes lol bet. also no one yell at me i wrote these at work and school when i was bored and my actual full fics i need like my entire focused brain to write lol

♡ funny meme i made for this fic ♡

reblog and comment please!♡

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itneverendshere · 5 months ago

Text

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - THREE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x Sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy, of abortion, health risks & death. chapter one ┆chapter two ┆ chapter four

Two lines.

Two bold, definitive lines.

You blinked. Once, twice, but it didn’t change. It wasn’t going away.

Two lines, clear as fucking day, staring back at you like they were taunting you.

The universe was laughing right in your face. You felt everything plummet to the very bottom of the earth—the room, the floor, your stomach—it all just plummeted, like you’d been pushed off a cliff with no warning.

The test fell from your grip, clattering onto the marble countertop, but you didn’t care. You backed away from it like it was something radioactive, something dangerous that could destroy you if you got too close. But it already had, hadn’t it?

You were pregnant.How could this happen? How the fuck could this happen?

You knew how, obviously. You weren’t that dumb. All you could see in your head was Rafe’s stupid fucking face. His name alone made you want to punch something, preferably his balls.

You were pregnant? With his kid? You were so careful with your life, with your image.

You could feel the resentment rise in your throat again, the taste of acid making you want to scream. He didn’t get to do this to you. He couldn’t ruin your life twice, fuck you up this bad and then just leave. You wanted to hate him. You did hate him. You hated it. And worse, you hated yourself.

There you were, stuck with this. Alone with a baby you didn’t even want to think about. The thought of it growing inside you—of carrying some piece of him, some reminder of everything he put you through these past two months—it was loathsome. He wasn’t part of this, not anymore. And you weren’t that girl—you didn’t want to be. You weren’t the one who begged for him to care, who waited around for him to come to his senses, who made excuses.

You weren't going to cry. You couldn’t. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you physically couldn’t. Not with your makeup done so carefully. Your eyes were lined so meticulously, your foundation blended like a dream, your lips painted in that bold red everyone said you pulled off effortlessly. You couldn’t afford to let your mascara run. He wasn’t worth it.

You weren’t going to ruin all that hard work over him again. No way.

You pressed a tissue to your eyes—not to cry, but to catch the stray moisture that threatened to ruin your eyeliner—and took a deep breath. You smoothed your dress, and made sure everything was in place.

You didn’t have time to figure it out, or wallow, or throw shit around. You straightened your back, lifted your chin, and forced yourself to feel nothing.

Not the panic, not the nausea, not the rage. Nothing.

You could push it all down, shove it into that deep hellish place in your guts where you put everything else. Later, maybe you’d have to let it out.

Just as you were spiraling deeper into the pit, there was a knock on the door. Loud. It made you jump, pulling you out of your head for just a second.

“Hey!” It was Lily, her voice bright, oblivious. “It’s time. We need you out there. You’ve got like three minutes.”

Right. You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was.

You stepped out of the room, every movement rehearsed, the smile expertly placed on your lips. You were a master at this—faking it, pretending like nothing in the world could touch you. Not after seeing those two fucking lines.

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked through the hallway, down the steps, and into the ballroom. It was filled with kooks being kooks. Fake smiles, fake compliments, fake friendships. You weren’t even listening to a word anyone said to you.

“Hi, darling, you look stunning as always,” someone said, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. You smiled, said thank you, maybe even added a you too, but you couldn’t hear yourself. Your body knew exactly what to do at these things.

Pretend like you gave a shit.

“Your dad would be so proud,” another woman gushed, and you wanted to throw up. You laughed.

If he knew what was happening. Pregnant? By a man who didn’t put a ring on your finger?

And there they were, of course—Topper, Kelce and Ruthie, standing in the middle of it all, grinning like idiots. Well, Topper grinning like an idiot.

Ruthie? That girl was giving everyone her signature snake sneer. Of course she was. The bitch had this superpower of sensing everyone's business before they even knew it themselves.

A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne flutes, and you reached out instinctively, but the waiter, somehow, just missed you. The tray floated right past, and before you could even realize the fact that you didn’t have a drink in your hand, her eyes were on you.

“Oh, you're not drinking?” she asked, voice dripping with fake concern. Her eyes flickered, like she knew something, and you swear to god, your eyelid twitched.

“Not yet,” you replied with the same faux smile.

Ruthie just kept watching you with those too-knowing eyes, like she was looking for a crack, some little tell. Because she always did.

You had to be so careful around her.

One wrong move, one second, and she’d be all over it, spreading it around the entire town before you even had a chance to breathe.

Your cousin, completely oblivious, was babbling with Kelce about something—probably golf, or the new boat his dad bought, or some other thing you couldn’t care less about. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but you were mentally still in the bathroom, staring at those two lines.

“So, you invited Rafe?” Kelce said it like it was nothing, like bringing up your ex-boyfriend was the most casual thing in the world.

“What the actual fuck did you just say?” You all but growled out, enough to make him choke on his champagne.

He looked genuinely confused, as if he didn’t just mention the one person you’d rather hurl off a bridge at the moment. “Yeah, Rafe. He’s on the list, right?”

Your whole body went rigid. You blinked, trying to keep your face from giving anything away, but inside? You were dying. Ruthie’s eyebrows shot up—oh great, now you had her attention too.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Kelce, of course, had the nerve to chuckle.

If Rafe had spoken to them about being taken off the guest list, you’d lose it. The insolence of him mentioning your name—like he still had any right to talk about you? He should’ve buried the memory of you right along with whatever feelings he claimed to have had.

But then, if he hadn’t said a word about it to his best friends—that meant something worse. That meant he didn’t care. He was over it. Over you.

He hadn’t even bothered to tell them that he wasn’t coming to the gala because he wasn’t thinking about it. Or about you.

You hated either possibility.

Kelce like the asshole he was, "I thought you two were—"

"Don't." You cut him off so fast, so hard, he had to take a step back.

You wanted to grab Top by his clueless shoulders and demand answers. Did Rafe care? Was he coming tonight? You didn’t like any option—every scenario made you want to get on a plane to the other side of the world. If he was planning to show up despite being cut from the list…Shit, what would you even do? You could feel the headache starting already.

That would be so him, though.

The arrogance. The entitlement, ignoring boundaries because he never thought the rules applied to him.

Ruthie, of course, was still watching you like a hawk. Her eyes darted between you and Topper, and you could practically feel her mind working, trying to piece together whatever she thought she was seeing. She loved this. She lived for other people’s drama, and you knew she’d sniff out anything that didn’t look flawless.

You did out without even thinking, grabbing Topper’s ear between two manicured fingers like you were his mom dragging him out of Sunday school, pulling him away.

"Ow, Jesus—what the hell?!" he yelped, stumbling to keep up with you in his shiny loafers as you all but hauled him into the nearest corner of the ballroom, out of sight, but still within earshot of the crowd.

You didn’t care. Let someone see. Let them all see.

You turned to him, barely letting go of his ear, your nails tapping impatiently against your crossed arms. He looked at you like you’d lost your mind, and maybe you had.

“Spill it.”

He was still rubbing his ear. “What are you talking about?”

“Rafe,” you snapped, eyes narrowing. “Is he coming tonight? And don’t you dare lie to me, Top.”

He gulped. Actually gulped. You swore you could see the gears turning in that pretty, empty head of his, trying to figure out if he could weasel his way out of this.

“I— I don’t know, okay?” Topper stammered, running a hand through his hair. “I haven’t talked to him today, but I figured… I mean, he always comes to these things, so I assumed—"

That meant Rafe didn’t tell him. That your little stunt hadn’t phased him in the slightest.

“You assumed?” You leaned in closer, eyes burning holes into his skull. “After everything, you thought it was a good idea to just assume he’d show up and not even bother telling me?”

“I can’t put him on a leash!” His voice rose defensively, eyes wide like he was the one under attack. And yeah, maybe he was. Maybe you’d gone full psycho mode. Rafe always turned you into this—this furious, spiraling, out-of-control version of yourself.

Your cousin was just collateral damage.

“Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe someone should.” You said it slowly like you were explaining something to a child. “Do you even know what it’s like?” you hissed, leaning in closer, your voice dropping , “To sit here, wondering if he’s gonna show up like some ticking time bomb?”

Topper’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

He didn’t know shit about what you were going through. How could he? He wasn’t the one with a whole life-changing secret burning a hole in his brain, wondering if the father of the child growing inside him was going to ruin everything—again.

“I—I didn’t think it was that serious,” Topper stammered, hands flying up in surrender. “I mean, he’s always been a dick, but—”

You remember the first thing he texted you after weeks of radio silence.

“No,” you interrupted, “He’s more than just a dick. He’s—” You stopped yourself before you said too much. God, you were on the edge, and you needed to rein it in.

Topper, still looking like a kicked puppy, shifted on his feet.

“Look, I’ll text him. I’ll ask if he’s coming or not, okay?” He pulled out his phone, typing something quickly. You watched him, arms crossed, tapping your foot against the marble floor like your life depended on it. If you saw his face—his stupid, beautiful, infuriating face—you didn’t know what you’d do.

Punch him? Scream? Run? The thought of him being here, so close, when you hadn’t even processed what was happening to you…

“Okay, he says—” He paused, squinting at his screen, “he’s not coming.”

The relief. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, shoulders sagging for just a second before you caught yourself. He’s not coming.

But why did it hurt? Perhaps a small part of you wanted him to show up—just to see you, just to care. The other part, however, didn’t. You didn’t want him anywhere near you, or this... this thing inside you.

“See?” Topper said, holding up his phone like it was some peace offering. “He’s not coming. Crisis averted.” He gave you this awkward, nervous smile, like he thought you might hit him again.

You forced a laugh, even though nothing about this was funny.

“Great. Awesome. Perfect,” you said through gritted teeth simultaneously smoothing your dress, and pushing your hair back over your shoulder, “Thanks, Top. Really. You’re a real lifesaver.”

He looked at you like he wasn’t sure if you were being sarcastic or not, but you didn’t care. The moment was over. You’d survived.

You rolled your eyes as you turned away heading back toward your original group. Of course, Ruthie was still standing there her arms crossed, that smug little smirk on her face. She’d been watching the whole thing, no doubt about it.

You could feel her nosy ass dissecting every single move you made.

“He’s not here yet,” she hummed, her eyes narrowing just enough to piss you off. “Weird, right? Maybe he’s busy with Sofia.”

Of course, she brought up that fucking name.

She was sniffing out blood in the water, as if she wasn’t just another Sarah Cameron knock-off. You could already picture it—the headlines, the whispers spreading through the audience, everyone talking about you. The legacy who ruined her own gala.

Kelce snorted, not even bothering to hide his amusement, because of course he thought this was all a joke. He never got it. None of them did.

You wished, for just a second, that you weren’t born into this pristine, high-society life. You felt so smothered by these expectations. If you were anyone else, if you weren’t some debutante raised on champagne and etiquette, you’d have punched her right there. You’d have knocked her straight to the floor and wiped that pretentious smile off her face with blood in front of every stuck-up rich asshole in the room.

“I didn’t realize we were talking about her,” you said, voice like sugar, even though you knew Ruthie could sense the underlying warning in it,“But thanks, Ruthie, for always keeping me updated on things that don’t concern you.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t back down yet.

“Just making conversation. I mean, it is weird that he hasn’t shown up yet, right? Considering how close you two used to be. I’m sure it’s nothing, though.”

Kelce, that asshole, leaned in, "Come on, don't act like you’re over it." His eyes glanced down to your hand. "You’re shaking."

You were. You hadn’t even noticed.

But instead of acknowledging it, you shot him a look that could've killed. "Fuck off, Kelce."

They were trying to get you to admit you didn’t invite him. Well, they’d have to try harder. You’d been swimming around sharks since you were born, no one was going to fuck you over so easily.

“Uh-huh,” Ruthie said, not buying a word of it. Her eyes flicked between you and Topper, and you knew what she was doing. She was fishing. “You sure about that? You were giving him a look.”

You glanced at your cousin, who was still rubbing his ear like a toddler. “Just sorting out some... logistics for the gala,” you said, voice saccharine, but it felt like chewing on glass. “It’s nothing. Really.”

She arched a brow, her lips curling up in a knowing grin. She knew something was off. She always did. “Right,” she said slowly, drawing the word out like she was savoring it. “Because for a second there, it looked like you were about to explode.”

She was monitoring you so closely, you could feel it crawling up your skin.

“You know,” she sighed, like she cared. “If something’s going on you can tell me. I won’t say a word.”

That was rich. Ruthie, keeping a secret? You’d sooner trust a thief with your jewelry. “I’m sure you wouldn’t,” you said, not keeping the sarcasm out of your voice. “But trust me, there’s nothing to tell.”

Ruthie’s pursed her lips, annoyed that she hadn’t managed to dig anything up, “Are you—”

You were two seconds away from shoving her into the nearest fountain. But instead, you took a deep breath, “You should worry less about me,” you advised her, “and more about that atrocious dress you’re wearing.”

The smile fell off her face so fast, it was glorious.

You didn’t wait for her to recover. You turned on your heel, and grabbed Topper by the arm.

As soon as you were far enough away, he let out a breath he’d been holding. “Jesus, I thought you were gonna deck her.”

You grinned, but there was no warmth in it. “I still might.”

He sighed, “She’s still my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, downgrading seems like a thing for you boys.”

Like a guardian angel sent from above, Lily appeared, stepping between you two with a concerned expression.

“Hey, hey,” she interrupted, glancing between you, “What was that about?”

You could see the caution in her eyes. She wasn’t stupid—Lily knew things between you and Rafe had been rocky, and she’d probably been sensing the tension the entire night. But right now, she was doing her best to defuse the earlier situation before it got any worse.

“Nothin’, just Ruthie being herself,” You dismissed, as you grabbed onto her forearm, “Let’s go.”

Lily blinked, startled by your urgency, but she didn’t argue. “Yeah, we should head backstage, the speech is coming up.”

“Bye Top. Stay the fuck away from the chocolate fountain.”

You could hear him whine in the back, “I did that shit once!”

Lily pulled you along through the ballroom, her arm linked with yours, quickening her pace to keep up with you as you nearly bolted toward the back of the venue. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” you bit out, though your voice didn’t even convince you. “I’m fine. I just need to get this speech over with.”

“Uh-huh,” She replied, clearly not convinced, but smart enough to drop it for now. “You got it, don’t worry.”

Finally, you made it to the side entrance that led backstage. The thick drapes and low lighting created a shield, giving you a small moment of privacy before the world demanded your attention again.

Lily stood next to you, gently touching your arm, “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. We can stall, or—”

“I have to,” you stopped her, rubbing a hand over your face, “I can’t—” You didn’t finish your sentence because you didn’t know how to say it. You had no choice.

Lily’s fingers squeezed your arm a little tighter. “Okay,” she said quietly, nodding. “But I’m here if you need me.”

You forced a smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks,” you whispered, even though the words felt hollow in your mouth.

You appreciated her being here, really, but she was blissfully unaware of the pregnancy test in the trash can.

Taking a deep breath, you adjusted your posture, straightened your dress, and ran a hand through your hair, reminding yourself that you’d been here before. You’d stood on that stage so many times.

This wasn’t new. You just had to get through it.

One more speech. One more night. You glanced at Lily, gave her a quick nod, and stepped through the final curtain. Back into the spotlight. Back into the role you’d perfected so well—put together, poised, untouchable.

The low murmur of the gathering hummed in your ears, growing louder with every second. You weren’t ready. You were never going to be ready.

You just needed to remember how to breathe.

The speech was printed and sitting in your hands, it felt like dead weight. You hadn’t even read through it since you’d finished it hours ago, and now, the thought of standing in front of all those people, pretending to have it together—it felt impossible.

Then, in the corner of your eye, you saw him.

Rafe.

He said he wasn’t coming. Topper said he wasn’t coming. But there he was, standing there, watching you just like he always had.

You hadn’t even meant to look. You didn’t do it on purpose, perhaps it was muscle memory, always searching for him. He was standing in the same spot he usually took. Like nothing had changed.

As if he hadn’t ripped you apart.

You tried to focus, but your heart was racing, thundering in your ears.

How dare he? How fucking dare he? Instantly you were back there, that messy, intoxicating space you swore you’d never return to. The one where he controlled the air you breathed. He looked so good. Too good, really. He was wearing a crisp navy suit that hugged his frame perfectly, hair buzzed again.

You should’ve guessed he’d find a way back here, even after everything.

“Are you ready?” Lily whispered beside you, her voice pulling you back from the brink of a breakdown.

“Yeah.”

Your heart raced as you forced yourself to look back at Rafe.

He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t even pretending to look interested. He just stood there, his eyes locked on you, unreadable, unfathomable.

He was still watching you. It felt like could see through your polished exterior. He probably did. He knew you better than anyone else. You wondered what he saw—the confident girl who had always pulled off these events with ease or the terrified woman who was about to pass out from the pressure.

Then, he’s lips lifted slightly. That infuriating, devil-may-care almost there smirk that had made your heart stutter long before everything went to hell. It reminded you of nights spent tangled in sheets, whispers pressed against your skin under the cover of darkness, moments that felt like they belonged in a dream.

You wanted to throw the speech away and storm off the stage, leaving this whole night behind.

Instead, you cleared your throat and gripped the edges of the podium, the cool wood bringing you back to the world.

The words were on the paper in front of you, but you didn’t need to look at them. You knew the speech by heart every year. You’d written it yourself, after all—crafted it with care, knowing exactly what people needed to hear to make their checks bigger, to keep your father’s legacy alive.

It was just a matter of saying it without breaking.

A deep breath, and then you began.

“Good evening, everyone. Thank you so much for being here tonight.”

Your voice sounded better than what you felt, and you leaned into that, letting it carry you through the first few lines.

“We gather here every year for the same reason—to celebrate the incredible work this foundation does, and to honor the legacy of those who came before us. This foundation isn’t just a charity; it’s a tribute. A way to remember those we’ve lost and to carry their dreams forward. It’s about giving back to a community that gave so much to us.”

You paused, just for a moment, glancing down at the speech in your hands, feeling the overwhelming crush of what you’re about to say next.

“For me, this has always been personal.” Your voice softened as you continued, “Most of you are aware I lost my family a few years ago. My father started this foundation. His vision was always to make sure that no one was left behind, that we take care of our own. My mother helped build it. And my sister…” You hesitated, remembering how faultless she’d been, “She was always the heart of it.”

The room was utterly still now, everyone listening intently.

“Tonight, as I stand here, I can’t help but think about how proud they would be of what we’ve accomplished. At least, I hope they’d be proud.”

You allowed yourself a small, bittersweet smile.

“My dad would’ve been in his element, making sure everything was spotless. And my mom, well, she’d probably tell me that the curtains were horrid and needed to be replaced immediately.”

The crowd gave a light laugh, the tension in the room dissipating just a little. You smiled, a real one this time, for the first time in weeks, picturing your mother in her no-nonsense way, criticizing every decoration like it was the most important thing in the world.

“I miss them every day,” you added, “And I’m certain I’m not the only one in this room who’s experienced that kind of loss. It changes you. But it also reminds you to live in a way that makes them proud. And that’s what tonight is about, continuing their work, continuing their legacy, and making sure we do right by them.”

Your grip on the podium loosened, and you looked up, making eye contact with the audience.

“So, to everyone here tonight—thank you. Thank you for believing in this cause. Thank you for your generosity, your support, and your kindness. And thank you for helping me keep their memory alive.”

With that, you stepped back from the podium, the applause swelling around you, but all you could hear was the sound of your heart breaking.

It was over. You did it.

Automatically, your eyes flickered up toward the back corner, the spot where Rafe was standing. You never needed to look before; you’d always just known he’d be there. It was his silent promise to you since you were sixteen. Every gala, every speech—no matter what happened between the two of you—he was there.

But he wasn’t there anymore. The space was empty.

This was what you wanted, you didn’t need him anymore. You were going to get through this on your own. It was the first time he wasn’t there to catch you like he’d always been.

You stood taller, and forced a smile, but as you started to step down from the stage, you felt it.

That stupid fucking warmth.

His hand found your elbow as you and every nerve in your body screamed bloody murder. The applause was still buzzing in your ears, cameras flashing—none of it registered.

All you saw was him.

Three seconds. That was how close you were to snapping. Who the fuck let him in?

You yanked your arm away, the touch burning your skin like it was staining you. You didn’t say a word—just turned and headed straight for the back exit.

Behind you, you heard his footsteps.

Of course, he never knew when to stop, when to let you breathe.

“Can we just—” he was practically jogging after you, his voice strained. “Can we talk like fucking adults?”

You were already halfway down the hall, pulling off your earrings as you stormed toward your suite.

The fucking sheer audacity of this man. You couldn’t even process it—how he could stand there, with his fake-ass calm tone, chasing after you like you were the one being unreasonable.

You threw open the door to the suite you got ready in, the one that was supposed to be your sanctuary for the night and stepped inside, not bothering to close it behind you; you knew he was going to follow you in any way.

He was relentless like that.

You tossed the earrings onto the vanity and glanced up to see he was right behind you now, lingering in the doorway, as if unsure of how much further he could push before you exploded.

He looked at you like he was the victim in all this.

“Can you at least listen to me for a second?” It sounded like he was forcing himself to stay calm.

But that bite was so Rafe.

You spun around, your breath coming out harsh.

“Listen to you? Listen to you? You’ve got to be out of your fucking mind.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but you were already pulling off your heels, the sharp tug at the straps doing nothing to calm your frustration.

He stood there, his eyes on you, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him for more than a second without feeling the betrayal flooding your chest.

Rafe was rubbing the back of his neck in that agitated way he did when he was frustrated. “I came here because I didn’t want to leave things like that. I thought we could be civil—”

“Civil?” You nearly laughed, “You seriously think you can walk in here and be civil after everything?”

His eyes narrowed just a fraction. He moved on his feet, stepping further into the room, and you saw it—the way he rolled his shoulders like he was already preparing himself for a fight. “I came to apologize.”

He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, the same agitated motion you’d seen a thousand times as if he was trying to smooth out the mess in his head.

Your hands stopped mid-motion, your necklace halfway off. You looked at him like he’d lost his mind. "Apologize for what, exactly?"

“For calling you dramatic.” He exhaled like he was doing something noble by saying it. As if he was doing you a favor. “For that text. I was drunk, didn’t mean it.”

He wasn’t apologizing for ghosting you. He wasn’t apologizing for her.

You stared at him, completely floored. He was serious, he thought this was some kind of peace offering. The fact that he thought an apology for that would fix anything? Insane.

“You think this is about that?” You cackled, chucking one shoe to the side, not caring where it landed, and the other followed right after. “Oh my god, Rafe, you are so fucking clueless.”

His expression changed then, brows furrowed, “I’m trying to make things right,” he mutters. “I don’t want you out of my life, okay?”

You threw the necklace somewhere on the ground, your patience gone. “You were the one who pushed me away. You don’t get to waltz in here and act like we can just fix things because you finally feel bad about it.”

He stepped closer, looming over you now, his lips curling into that sneer. “I’m trying to give you a chance to be friends—”

Give you? Like you were some charity case to him? As if you should be thankful.

“I don’t want to be your friend!” You growled in his face, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his chest, “I’d rather set myself on fire than be your friend, so you can take that chance and shove it up your ass.”

His hand came up to run along his head again, and you saw the way his fingers curled into his scalp like he was trying not to give in to his impulsive thoughts. His breathing was heavier now, too, chest rising and falling quickly.

“Why are you being so difficult?” he snapped, and there it was—the familiar, accusatory edge in his voice. “After what you said about my dad—”

The reason.

The thing that broke you two this time, the thing he’d been holding over your head. You saw the hurt in his eyes, the one thing he hadn’t let go of.

You told him the truth and now it had become the scar he wouldn’t stop picking at. He was hurt. And he was angry, because you’d finally told him the truth about his dad, and it shattered that fake picture he had in his head.

“You’re gonna bring that up right now?” Your voice was so quiet it nearly scared you. “After all the shit you’ve put me through, that’s what you’re mad about?”

“You don’t get to talk about him like that,” he growled, stepping forward. “That’s why we broke up. Because you don’t fucking get it.”

But Sofia did, right?

That was fucking hilarious. She didn’t grow up listening to Ward’s bullshit. Didn’t see the kind of things he’d say or did to his oldest child.

Of course, she would take his side. She didn’t know better.

You shook your head, “No, we broke up because you didn’t like me telling the truth. Your dad was a piece of shit, and you know it.”

For a moment, the air went deadly still between you. You could sense his hurt, the way it sneaked between every bitter word.

Then, he did it—the thing you knew he would, that thing that made your blood boil.

Rafe pulled at the back of his neck again, looking like he might’ve ground his teeth to dust. “Oh, I get it now,” he says, his voice thick with condescension. “You’re jealous.”

Your whole body went borderline rigid, like a door, locked in place.

He was standing there, offering you friendship like a pity prize, calling you jealous when you were standing there broken, trying not to fall apart because of him.

“Jealous?” you repeated, in disbelief. “Of your little pogue girlfriend? Please, fucking spare me. You want me to throw a penny at her?”

He stepped closer, his breath quickening. "She’s real, okay? She’s not some polished barbie pretending in front of everyone, just to fall apart behind closed doors."

Ouch. But you could do worse.

"Real huh?" You scoffed, the bitterness in your chest taking over. "Is that what you call it? Someone who doesn’t know the difference between caviar and fucking canned tuna? That’s the 'real' you’ve been slumming it with?"

"At least she doesn’t care about any of this," he snapped, gesturing to the glittering gala that surrounded you both. "She’s not obsessed with keeping up appearances.”

A cold laugh escaped your lips. He must’ve forgotten to look in the mirror today.

"God, you’re so delusional. Do you think I wanted any of this?” You shot him a look that could cut through steel. "I’m not the one faking it. You are. You are still so desperate for Daddy’s approval that you can’t even see what a fucking mess you are."

Rafe's hands flexed at his sides, his fingers twitching. His nostrils flared, and he tilted his head to the side, running his tongue over his teeth like he always did when he was trying to stay calm.”

"I’m not afraid of who I am," His lips barely moved as he spoke, rolling his shoulders back again, standing to his full height. "You spend so much time trying to be perfect, you don’t even know who you are anymore."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin, like a predator sizing you up, his eyes locked on yours. You could see his jaw clench, his chest rising and falling with every shallow breath as he tried to keep his composure.

You took a step closer, your chest brushing against his, your heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. His gaze flicked downward, scanning your face.

"Is that a joke? You spend so much time trying to be your father, you’ve lost yourself. Do you think I don’t see it? You’re so fucking empty without his approval,” Your voice dipped lower, “You’re so pathetic it’s almost sad."

He clenched his jaw again, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. He took a sharp breath through his nose, staring you down with a look that was all Rafe—volatile, unreadable, on the edge of breaking.

Right then and there, Lily burst into the room, her wide eyes taking in the scene like a bomb had just gone off.

"Okay! What is going on in here?" she demanded, her voice sharp but layered with concern. “I could hear you two in the hallway. If something happened, this is not the place to deal with it.”

“You wanna know what happened, Lily?” you started, almost laughing with disbelief. “This motherfucker started seeing someone behind my back. Two months—two fucking months—with no real closure, no answers. And he’s off fucking some pogue.”

“It’s not like that,” He scoffed, pointing a finger in your direction as he took a few steps back, "Don't drag Sofia into this.”

His posture screamed defensiveness, and all you could think was how much you hated the way he said her name. It made you want to throw up, it felt like someone was taking a rusty nail and dragging it down your spine.

He said it so casually, so carelessly, as if it hadn’t ripped you apart. It was the way he said it, with that hint of affection, like she was this delicate, shiny little thing he was protecting, and you—you—were just a threat he had to deal with.

"I'll drag the fucking Pope into this if I have to.”

You were the one who had been there through all his bullshit, you were the one who held him together when everything in his life was falling apart. Now, suddenly, she was the one he spoke about softly. Like she mattered.

It was insulting.

“Guys!”

Lily stepped between you both, throwing her hands up as if she were separating two wild animals about to rip each other apart.

“Please, please calm down. Rafe, I think you should leave. Now."

He looked like he wanted to say more, you knew he had a million things screaming at him beneath the surface, but for once, he stayed silent. Maybe it was the fact that Lily was there, or maybe he finally realized you weren’t going to bite into his bullshit excuses and provocations.

Whatever it was, he took a step back, shaking his head. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, storming past Lily and out of the room.

You could hear the distant sound of the door slamming as he left.

The moment he was gone, you felt your breath coming out in shallow gasps. Your heart dropped to your stomach, your pulse racing.

Lily turned to you; her face full of concern. She reached out and grabbed your shoulders gently.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice soothing, “Breathe. Just breathe.”

You pressed a hand to your chest, your breath hitching. Pregnant. You were pregnant with his kid, and this was what you got in return.

No peace. No calm.

Your chest tightened, your vision blurring.

“Hey, hey,” She cooed again, her hands on your arms, grounding you. “You’re okay. We’re going to figure this out. Just breathe, okay?”

You couldn’t believe you’d let it get this far—couldn’t believe you were even in this situation.

There was no way you were having his kid.

Absolutely not.

You didn’t even have to think about it. The decision had been made the second he’d defended her and insulted you like you were sidewalk littering.

Tomorrow, you’d take care of it. You’d book the appointment and that would be that. Clean break, no more ties to Rafe Cameron, no more staying in that fucked up twisted cycle with him.

“I really think you need to sit down and breathe for a second. You’re scaring me sweetheart, and honestly, this isn’t good for you.”

Once again, you pondered telling her everything—about breaking down and spilling every ugly detail. But that would make it real.

Your designer dress clung to you in all the wrong ways, as if even the fabric could understand the order going changes in your body.

“Whoever let him in, I want them fired.”

You spat suddenly gaining momentary strength to ruin lives. It wasn’t just a demand; it was an execution order.

The quiet threat of it was more terrifying than your screaming would have been.

Tomorrow, you’d make sure this nightmare ended before it could begin.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

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screampied · 7 months ago

Text

❛ BON APPÉTIT, BABY! ❜ g. satoru

☆ sum. stupid ovulation week is approaching soon and out of nowhere, you get baby fever. you ask your sugar daddy for help but his version of ‘help’ is trying to get you pregnant.

wc. 5.1k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), praise, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy, implied multiple rounds, size kink, ōral (f! receiving), he makes out w your panties, overstim, major brēeding kink, nıpple play, spıt, impact play, petnames.

➤ sd! gojo masterlist.

fuck, these cramps never knew when to quit.

you were crawled up in a ball on the sofa, suffering in agonizing silence. you sigh, taking a brisk glance near the grandfather clock that sits beside satoru gojo, your sugar daddy’s glass cabinets. oh, you missed him. it’s been a few good months with him as his sugar baby and you felt like a princess—no, a queen. he’s showered you with many many praises, not just gifts but of course, that too. you’re so lonely in his mansion, but you wondered what he was doing right now. probably working, you knew how busy of a businessman he was, but you missed him. his smell, his presence, his petnames. whipping out your phone, you unlock it, skimming toward his contact. ‘toru’ with a pretty pink heart as his contact, you text him a sweet forward ‘miss you.’

not even seconds later, he replies, giving your message a heart. ‘Hi, sweetheart. i miss you too. being a good girl for me, yeah?’

with a pout, your eyes skim through his flirty words and you press the video call button. you couldn’t wait. . you needed to see him. satoru answers it, and as expected, he’s sat upright in his office. so handsome, his snowy white hair was ruffled yet neatly slicked back and parted. he wore the suit you picked out for him, the jet-black one with a tie that makes his pretty blue eyes pop. “hey you,” a raspy voice utters on the phone, and he’s snickering at how you’re just lazily slump on the couch, bored out of your damn skull. “put some clothes on, darlin’.”

“no,” you grump, although you did have clothes on. clothes that basically consisted of a thin sage tank top and panties. satoru was typing on his computer. you heard the quickness of his fingers typing away as he’s taking every few glances to look at you again. “come home, ‘toru. these cramps are killin’ me,” and you mumble the last part under your breath. “. . andiwantababy.”

it’s a long silent pause and he’s fully looking at you through the screen now. all that could be heard in the background was the screeching and beeps of his costly fax machine.

satoru’s got a glint in his eyes before his voice pitches, and he slyly hums. “oh, you want a baby, sweets? my, you really do need me ‘ta come home, huh.”

you squeeze your thighs together, positioning your phone to lie in landscape mode—you were still a bit sensitive from earlier, from touching yourself. as your breath excitingly hitches, you couldn’t help but pout again.

“ ‘toru, think ‘m havin’ baby fever or something,” and your words were oh so sweet. satoru’s sitting up against his chair, leaning up against his palm. the shine of his expensive g-shock glimmers in the light within each time he moves. “come home, please.”

“sweetheart,” he tsks, two white arched brows piercing together. he could never say no to you, he spoiled you so much . . not that he never minded either. you were his baby, and satoru playfully scoffs at your needy declaration. “you really can’t wait another hour? i’m almost done.”

“no,” you grouse, a cute glower stretching across your features, marinating as you speak. satoru chuckles at your bratty persistence, and you watch as he fixes his tie, lightly tugging on it.

“fine, fine,” he gruffs. “i’m coming, princess. wear that new designer set i bought for you, okay? ya know the one, the rose-gold?”

smearing your glossed lips against each other, you give him a nod. you ached for him, each second you spent on the phone was a constant reminder of how he wasn’t there with you. satoru found your clinginess adorable though. it was cute how you’d always text and call him while he’s at work. even if his responses were hours late, he’d always get back to you, sending you sweet ‘hi baby’ and ‘i miss you more, pretty,’ ‘s.

if you were feeling bold, you’d send him a few pictures of yourself in one of the many expensive custom-made sets of lingerie he buys you.

his favorite would have to be the ‘satoru gojo’ exclusive brand of lingerie for women, he literally bought the entire stock of all colors just for you.

“okay,” you mumble, already making your way toward his bedroom. a few of his servants and butlers were dusting away at furniture and his entire mansion was huge. it was spacey, you could practically get lost in it. as you stomp lightly, the bare soles of your feet slide against the glassy-textured floor before you glance down at your screen. “drive safe.”

“i will, sweets. see you soon, yeah?”

with a beep, the call ends and it’s just you trapped in your own silent thoughts.

as you made your way to the master bedroom, immediately, you’re met with the loud cologne scent of satoru. it’s enchanting, it’s always the same smell of cinnamon and spices. satoru gojo always smelled rich regardless. rich was his middle name. you dig through your walk-in closet he had made for you, fishing out the set he wanted to see you wear. it was dashingly pretty.

he bought the rose-gold set as a gift for your birthday, and even if it did hurt his pockets a lot, he never cared. anything for you—his pretty baby.

about forty minutes later, satoru returns home finally and he yawns, stretching his long limbs. you scurry to him, your head reaching just near the center of his chest and he lightly jerks back.

“hey baby,” he returns the hug, big callused hands roaming up and down your exposed skin. the lingerie fit you perfectly, displaying your curves and gorgeous physique. satoru buried his face into the crook of your neck, planting a soft kiss. “you’re so spoiled. i can’t always leave work jus’ because you miss me, y’know.”

“i know,” you let off a soft moan, his soft lips creating gingerly mushy traces everywhere near your skin. he was always so tender, nips of kisses slowly turning into flicks with his tongue. satoru’s left hand slowly snakes near your leg, raising it up before wrapping it around his slim torso. your ankle rubs against the burberry belt he wore. it clanks loudly and he then lifts you up. “s- satoru!”

“what?” he hums, leading you closer toward the bed.

you heard the playfulness in his tone, and he’s got you in such a firm grasp. his fingertips continue to roam down your soft skin, snagging against the laced fabric that wraps around your body like a christmas present. “god, you’re so hot,” he murmurs in a raspy tone, and you glance at his parted slick backed hair. it’s unkempt now, white strands and tresses running down his eyes. he lies you down on the bed gently, and that’s when he gets on top of you.

you gulp, meeting the eyes of satoru. pretty blue eyes, they’re always so mesmerizing to look at.

but this time, he’s got a more feral look in his pupils as they dilate. “sweetheart,” he whispers, using a thumb to caress the edge of your twitching lip. with the way you’re prettily sprawled all out like this for him at his very mercy, there’s so much he wanted to do. satoru’s eyes never leave yours, not for a single second. “do you really want a baby or is just the baby fever?”

“b- both,” you gasp, not even noticing his hand creeping down between your legs, parting them apart.

you moan, feeling his palm rub up against the outline of your panties. so soaked, satoru’s breath hitches at your sweet whimpers and he’s so close up to you. so close that his rock-hard boner presses up against you and fuck, it’s hard. a visible tinted bulge was sticking out the center of his slacks and it’s driving him mad.

the mental image of you with a swollen tummy, all plump and baring his child, it makes him groan. satoru’s had his fair share amount of sugar babies in the past, but none of them were you.

“such a silly little girl,” he huffs, a bit of humor in his tone. but not wanting to waste any time, he leans in, capturing your lips into a deep hungry kiss.

whiny moans pour into his mouth - he’s sweet.

the minty kind of sweet where you taste peppermint lingering on his tongue.

satoru kisses sloppy this time, gradually grinding his body against yours. it’s incredibly sloppy, not much passion and more-so filth—strings of spit tangle with each other, forming little lustrous cobwebs of saliva before he sucks on your tongue. his pretty white lashes flutter before he opens them, staring at you, grunting right in your mouth. his boner continues to rub off against your clothed pussy and his groans only grow louder.

“fuuuuckk,” he swears, smacks of lips ringing through his ears. it was something about you, he didn’t know what it was but you were addicting.

satoru starts to peel off the pieces of lingerie piece by piece. by peel, he’s carelessly tearing through it as if the entire designer set didn’t cost him an arm, a leg, and a fucking torso. but again, even with his pockets swollen and suffering because of you, he’d buy you the whole world if he could. well, he probably could. he’s satoru gojo. “sweets, ‘m gonna devour you.”

five words.

five words that constantly went on a loop in your head as satoru’s eating out your cunt like a starved man.

he was starved, it’s been hours since he’s seen you. as he’s delving his face right between the plush of your thighs. you moan, chomping the front row of your teeth down on your quivering bottom lip. fuck, he was just nasty.

merely seconds passed and he’s already slobbering over your pussy. strands and strands of glossy spit trickles from his lips and onto your folds. “ ‘toruuuu,” you whimper, relishing in the way his tongue curls all throughout your drooling core. he’s maneuvering all kinds of shapes and circles, even spelling all letters of his name on your cunt with his tongue. scarlet plump lips of his gently kiss near your labia whilst warm breath ghosts near your sappy slit. shaking all from his tongue, the bed grows rickety from your movements and you inhale a sharp breath.

your fingers get intertwined between his white locks of hair and you pull tight.

his head tugs forward into you and he grunts, swaying his slick pink muscle in and out of your cunt. “mngh,” he groans, and that’s when he sneaks a hand between your pried open legs.

you stare down at him as he’s devouring you whole, slurping everything out of you until he’s satisfied - and that won’t be for a good while.

it doesn’t take a while before he’s already completely pussy drunk.

satoru’s fingers slither near your pussy and as his flat tongue repeats to lap lap lap up your syrupy sweet juices, he pops inside a single finger.

an exasperated breathy gasp snatches straight out the back of throat before you immediately feel the mouthwatering stretch of his digits and it’s toe curling.

if it was one thing about satoru, his fingers were long, slender, and also very very thick.

with a single swirl motion he’s making with his finger shoved deep inside, you’re already at the verge of breaking. crumbling because of his sloppy tongue. his fingers could stretch you out just as much as his cock could.

satoru even had you keep your panties on for him. the same panties he bought you as a gift.

a gift where he collaborated with victoria’s secret, your panties had both of his infamous initials bedazzled on the front and back. god, every time he traces his tongue over the tiny little beads, it drives him crazy every time.

you drive him crazy.

his flat laid tongue teasingly licks at the silk fabric before it turns into a whole raunchy make out sesh. pretty white lashes flap as he’s slurping everything out of you, missing no spot.

he couldn’t afford to, not when you tasted this good.

“we’re a ‘lil squirmy today, huh,” he snickers, feeling your weak thighs writhe because of his tongue.

it felt so good, the way he’s casually slurping you, eating your pussy as if it was the last thing to devour on earth. such raunchy sloshing sloshes cry out from your cunt and he groans. your fingers remain tangled in his hair, yanking on his messy tresses before he flicks his tongue against that spot.

it’s soft and spongy, and with the help of his long fingers curling and scissoring in and out of your sopping pussy, you let off a candied three-second shriek. “oh, darlin. found it, did i?”

“fuck, ‘toru,” your body falls back against the silk pillows.

multiple wanton whimpers slither from your lips as he’s continuously toying his tongue against your g-spot. it seemed as if his tongue was helping with your cramps entirely. such pressure builds up in your body and you were just so hot that you felt like you were gonna explode. “gonna cum, fuck fuck.” you’re babbling out pathetic cries that fall deaf to his pointed ears. satoru hums in smug amusement, jaw feeling tight and locking but he doesn’t care.

he was feeling pretty exhausted from coming back from work but just a single taste of your pussy and suddenly, he was energized once again.

ironic.

his two fingers continue to swivel around inside your gripping walls as your body slumps into the mattress in lewd defeat. satoru grunts, grinding his boner against the edge of the bed to calm himself but you made it so hard.

you made him hard.

as he’s luxuriating in this eagle view of your legs prettily laid up for him, he’s merely knuckles deep.

you can barely stay still and the bed’s staring to grow rickety. satoru’s speed of his tongue doesn’t falters, and as he’s slurping every drop from your sappy folds—you let out your final elongated moan. it’s long, your legs erupt dramatically and shake within his hold before you’re finally cumming. it drags for a long time and you’re just nothing but hysterical.

overwrought with emotions and pleasure, your legs finally collapse—as if they weren’t already basically limp, you exhale deeply.

“fuck, fuck fuuuck,” you repeat, watching with hazy murky eyes as he pulls your panties back toward the center with his teeth. satoru licks up your sweet saccharine-flavored juices that seep out from you, savoring the honeyed taste on his tongue before you pull on his hair . . hard.

“tsk. watch the hair, girl,” he warns you, still being cheeky and playful.

your cunt embarrassingly twitches once he makes eye contact with you again. satoru sits up, his entire chin coated with nothing but your slit. its a stream of it and it’s pretty. it was just the way it trickles down and he laps the crevices of his lips with his tongue. “so cute,” he murmurs, and he closes the gap between you both. as satoru feels your trembly legs wrap around his waist, he pulls you into another deep passionate kiss.

you moan right into his mouth, lazily tossing your arms over his broad-built shoulders before feeling him yank your panties down your legs and ankles.

satoru’s body was hot.

he still had his business attire on, and he feels your hand slowly removing his tie. your other hand runs down his tux, sliding inside the center to feel his washboard chiseled and hiding underneath the piles of formal work clothes.

“such a needy ‘lil thing,” he whispers gruffly between kisses, chuckling once he sees the forming pout tweak against your swollen lips.

satoru rubs a thumb over you lip before his crystalline-colored irises meet yours. the silence was cold, he’s got a wolffish smirk compressing against his lips before he mutters right near your ear. “now, let’s give ya that baby, sweetheart.”

saying ‘baby’ was an understatement.

with the way satoru was about to fuck you, he planned on giving you triplets.

maybe even more, and the constant rambles of how little ‘ole you was stuck in his mansion all day with baby fever did something to him. oh, poor thing, suffering with cramps all day. it was the end of the world. to you at least it was. but like the loving sugar daddy he was, satoru figured he’d do his best to ease your little ‘problems.’

“gimme that pretty arch, goooood..” he purrs, using a hand to rub down your exposed back.

satoru groans—his formal trousers / pants were pulled down to his ankles and he’s staring at your pretty ass. so cute. he watches with a carnal glint in his eye as you position yourself, gnawing on your lip and the bars of your enclosure. the anticipation was about to bury you six feet under.

his leaky tip slowly smears and bedaubs against your dripping clit and you whine. your hands, clammy and all, roughly grip onto the richly-made sheets.

his tip was fat, it’s got a glistening swollen head that’s teasing you. satoru’s breathing grows shallow once he sees your pussy cutely trying to swallow. “fuck, please,” you croak, desperate for him to go inside. he always does this—everytime.

right before he’s preparing himself to fuck you raw, satoru smacks his bulbous cockhead against your sappy weeping folds, hearing your sweet little cries grow unsatisfied. all you could think about was having him breed you full . . over and over and over again, you didn’t just want it, you needed it.

you needed him.

“relaaaax, sweet thing. ‘m comin,” a chortle dies from his throat as he feels you trying to wriggle your hips.

you’re impatient, and once he’s fully aligned, he’s finally dipping his weighty cock inside your perfectly tucked folds.

suddenly, your needy whines stop and they turn into whines of rapture. satoru trails a big hand toward the cusps of your ass, tracing down the cute curvy curvature of your body before your skin’s met with a rude swat.

you moan as he’s easing himself inside your gummy walls, stretching you open even more than his fingers did. “atta fuckin’ girl. let me in, biiiiiig stretch, there we go.”

the stretch . . you’d never get used to it, never.

your stomach heaves once he’s reeling his hips in. “s- shit,” you kiss your teeth, your knees already buckling and becoming weak. satoru spanks your bare ass again just to hear those sweet yelps leave your lips. he’s so fucking big, it doesn’t take long before he’s bottoming out and you hear the welcoming ‘pop’. satoru groans once he starts to move, one hand holding onto your hip—another focused on your pretty perked ass. he likes this view, the view of his sweet girl arched over on all fours. satoru bites his lip as he starts to make delicious haste with his sharp keen hips.

“god,” his head throws itself back briefly at a certain angle.

already, white strands stick to his forehead with the help of his sweat substituting as glue. satoru’s voice shakes as his cock’s fully in, your clingy gripping walls were so warm and it makes his mouth water from the inside. “missed my favorite pussy so fuckin’ bad, so bad,” and you feel a few droplets plop down your back. satoru’s eyes rove over, watching you writhe again and he sheepishly snickers.

he was drooling.

“heh, sorry.” and he wipes his mouth with his wrist, the feral feeling pooling in his gut never fading.

you’re a mess underneath him, the second he starts to drill his hips into you—it’s over.

satoru’s stamina was always unhinged.

the bed croaks and groans from the constant shakes ‘n creaks it has to endure each second. the hinges were quite loud, you heard the rusty creaking wood that reverbs throughout the room. his cock continued to pound into you as his body’s on top of yours, in full sync with your own sloppy movement.

you’re whimpering, your head already being smushed against the pillow as the undersides of his thigh start to feel minuscule pangs. “toru, toruuu,” you mewl out in a melodic whisper. he’s hitting you deep, your glossed lips part into a circle before you huff.

each strike of his hips felt more precise and brutal. . you wanted more, you wanted to feel him more.

“i know, i know,” he coos, thumbs circling around your waist as he holds you in place.

satoru’s hips were so sculptured and sharp that they give you whiplash every time. he’s got such power within each salacious strike that it makes your head spin. every single stroke, you’re left stupid and speechless with your tongue already dangling out of your mouth. the room grew steamy within a span of a few minutes. it smells like nothing but pure passionate sex.

by now, your eyes were rolling toward the very backs of your sockets in utter elated pleasure. you’re seeing nothing but splashes of ivory black and white. “aht aht. c’mere, don’t fuckin’ run sweetheart,” his voice was as smooth as silk. satoru feels your unsteady hips trying to crawl away but he reels you back in. “nuh uh. take it, take it, take it, girl.” he groans, his heavy hanging balls thwacking right against your ass within each pivotal thrust.

the band of his platinum-colored watch rubs off against your skin again—he’s watching you jerk back against him. his cock was so full, he licks his lips at the thought of your pretty pussy and how you were gonna wring him dry like you always do.

“fuck me, fuck me ‘toru,” your whimpering words were repeating itself over and over as if you were a broken record. the pit of your stomach coils as each second draws itself out before he’s grunting gruffly. your cunt’s sloppy, coating his base with sheeny amounts and globs of slick. white hairs from his neat pubes stick against his skin and satoru’s now grinding into you. “ah, right there, ngh please.”

“thaaaaat’s it pretty girl,” he snarls in a raspy voice, feeling the fat smacking stings of your ass jolt backward into his pelvis. “fuck me right back, mhm. gimme this pussy, make me proud baby.”

as he’s whispering all sorts of praises and dirty words, you can feel yourself reaching your limit soon — it’s so close.

a fluttering sensation brews up inside your stomach before satoru suddenly groans. “fuck,” his cock’s wholly stretching you out to your elastic limit before it meets that same textured spongey barrier again. he knows right away because your knees buckle, your breath grows quicker, and you let off another surprised shriek.

right there, x marks the spot after all and he was constantly hitting his tip there until you let out cute shrilling screams.

“goddamn, ‘m gonna cum, sweets,” and his voice grows more shakier the longer he’s inside.

it’s as if time stood still.

the constant rotation of swiveling gyrations from each angle, each body has your head spinning like a merri-go-‘round.

you were probably looking a dumb cock-drunk mess. unkempt strands of hair were already flopping down your face and occluding your view of vision entirely. satoru pierces his white brows together before lightly shoving you further into the mattress. as you’re cutely arched forward with your ass raised up, he leans way into your back, wrapping a hand softly around the back your throat.

“gonna fuckin’ give ya twins. one isn’t enough, pretty girl. need that tummy swollen ‘n plump s- so bad,” and he inches his lips toward your spine, still pumping into you deep. “gonna make you my pretty ‘lil mama.”

as he continued to spoke, you whine as his cock plummets into your wet sopping cunt over and over. it’s to the point where your ears recognize the slapping sounds of skin. the squelches your wet cunt made had him groaning.

he’s breathing in huge chunks of air as he’s merely crushing you with his weight. as you both robustly rut into each other in flawless unison, satoru’s hefty weight that hovers over you anchors into yours, slamming further into you.

“fuck, don’t stop, hngh,” and your words were as shaky as your chattering teeth.

he couldn’t keep his hands off you, literally.

sweaty open palms paw at every part of your body. near your doughy tits, your ass—his favorite part, and even your pretty plush thighs that were nearly gluing together. “satoru, satoru, pleaseee.”

“mhm, sweets..” his voice tremors and cracks before a sharp gasp wretches out of him. out of nowhere, you feel his hips come to an abrupt stop and he groans loudly.

it’s so loud that it’s an almost bellowing roar, both of his ears clank at the blissful sensations. satoru grows quiet once he feels it, that familiar pressure that’s been stored full inside him for the longest.

he’s cumming, and it’s so much, a slimy knot shoots out and freely dribbles into your inviting swollen cunt and he chews the inside of his cheek. “fuck m- me,” he stammers, still holding both sides of your rickety hips.

the room’s filled with husky pants and skin slapping until he’s slowing down - velvety stringy ribbons spurt into you raw until he’s hoarsely panting like a dog at the sight.

he can’t stop staring. such a mess, but you’re his mess. god, the way it just leisurely trickles inside of you, spilling all down the sides of your jittery folds because it can’t keep all of it in. the sounds were even more filthy, sloshing squeaks feels the room and he goes quiet just to get a good enough listen. satoru came so much—so so much that it lasted for a plethora of long obscene seconds. as he’s trying to get over his orgasm, he’s still chewing at the inside of his cheek, his face growing flustered. his hips become strikingly sloppy and he’s basically humping you. “god, have my fuckin’ kids, sweetheart. ugh,” and satoru’s as prettiest as he’s ever been.

with his lip dragging from his teeth biting near the bottom, his eyes scrunch shut and white brows curl up. huffing out a big deep exhale, he’s sweating bullets.

his thick calves felt like they were on fire but he didn’t have enough of you yet. there was never enough of you. you had him whipped—he’s allowing you to milk him, relishing in the fact that your sweet cunt was just wringing him dry to the max.

satoru steadies your hips with his quavery hands, peering down at the masses of sweltering hot cum that drips down your legs and he grunts. “s- satoru,” you shiver, gasping once he pulls out only to flip you right over.

“not done. still got so much more ‘ta give my pretty girl,” he breathes, and it’s a feral look in his eyes. satoru raises your leg up slowly, his rings tickling against your bare skin. “lie on your back. i fuckin’ need more.”

satoru fucks you for hours.

any position you could even think of, he’s doing it.

both stacked bodies glisten with sheets of sweat as they rut back and forth against each other, fingers merrily intertwined. he’s determined to get you pregnant and your moans only fuel him. the rowdy snaps of his vigorous hips only grew stronger.

his stamina, you’re blinking, wondering if he’s even human. despite the drops of perspiration tearing from the sides of his face and his heaving long breaths, satoru showed no signs of fatigue.

he was drilling his thick cock into you again and again—giving you orgasm after orgasm.

your toes curl as you’re trying to keep up with him but it’s to no avail. weighty balls continue to rigorously slam into your core as you’re currently in mating press. the compressing weight of satoru melting against you makes you whine.

he’s so warm, and with the way he’s breathing down your neck, babbling how he’s gonna make you the most prettiest mommy in the world makes your cunt throb. “you’re so pretty like this,” he moans into your neck, his thrusts becoming weak yet again.

globs of cum dribble from your pussy as he’s right between your thighs, his cock springing up. he hisses at the feeling, feeling your arms wrap around his back. satoru groans at the twinge near his extensor muscles that flex.

you gave him scratches that ran all down his back. he pays for your weekly manicures just so you can paint his back with scratches with your pretty acrylics.

his pretty girl.

you’re a stammering mess, plugged all the way up with such creamy thin ropes and your body was already limp. with his dick still delved inside, satoru grabs your chin—pressing another kiss against your lips. you moan, twisting and tangling your balmy hot tongue with his before he presses a hand down on your tummy. you whine in his mouth, skimming your crumped up fingers down his little undercut.

satoru groans at the feeling of your digits toying with the back part of his hair. “s- satoru,” you speak between kisses in short gasps for air. your ankle brushes up and down his back and it makes him grunt - your touch made him weak. “ ‘m so full, fuck.”

“yeah you fuckin’ are, sweetheart,” he licks near your bottom lip.

satoru’s body was so hot against yours, even while he was fully milked out he was still stuffing you full. the sheets were a mess, but he didn’t care in the slightest. his cerulean-blue eyes rove down towards your chest before he leans down. you stare at him, panting—and that’s when he latches his tongue against your neglected tits.

so perfect,

he makes sure to lather viscous strings of saliva on both of them, including your sensitive perky nipples. “mhm.” he groans, feeling your fingers fish through his white tangled strands. he’s sucking on each of your breasts with the most stupidest pussy drunken grin.

after a few seconds, he removes his spit-slick lips, a string of saliva following before he gazes up at you. with a sly worn out gaze, he cups both of your tits with his hands, giving them a good squeeze. “aw. my girls are gonna be full of milk soon,” and satoru kisses near your chin, your forehead, your cheek, and then finally, your lips.

you return the wet sultry kiss before he abruptly pulls away, holding your chin. “can’t wait to be a daddy, darlin,” he says in a gruff drowsy voice. you watch as he gradually pulls out, moving his head down toward your bare tummy. satoru presses a kiss near your navel before his eyes stare right back up at you.

“now let’s wait for this pretty ‘lil bump, hm?”

7K notes · View notes

be-xkyy · 1 month ago

Note

Is it bad that I wanna have the yandere men’s babies? 🫣 Cowboys, Sugar Daddy, etc. I’m curious though how some of them would react if reader was enthused to settle down with them and start a family? 🥰

Please don’t stop the breeding/pregnancy kinks

Hi! that's a good question anon and I'll answer it right now.

Yandere reactions to a reader willing and happy to be with them and have their babies.

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★

Yandere Farmer link

This grumpy man doesn't jump for joy or anything, in his mind he doesn't understand why he would be elated by the simple fact that you know your place and where you belong? You belong beneath him receiving his fat cock in your greedy pussy. End of story.

He already thinks he's old (maybe just a little...) and that he's running out of time to have a family and you accepting your place without making a fuss takes a huge weight off his shoulders, he takes you to live with him that very day and oh... you'll realize that this man has the stamina of a bull and the same softness.

As soon as you arrive he already has you bent over the kitchen table with your cheek pressed against the oak wood while his fat cock abuses your pussy, his fat balls slapping your plush ass with a dirty sound while a large hand holds you tightly by the back of the neck squeezing the little hairs deliciously.

From that day on you will have your poor pussy sore and overstimulated because he will fuck you all the time and at all hours.

He fucks you in the morning when the rooster wakes up and doesn't even crow yet but he's already buried deep in your pussy, he fucks you in the barn on a pile of hay when you go to feed the horses, he fucks you in the afternoon when he takes a break after hours in the field under the sun, he fucks you in the shower when you go to bathe to clean off the dirt from a productive day of work and he fucks you when you go to sleep with his calloused hand squeezing your throat, your eyes are rolled back as he fills your fertile pussy with his thick cum for the eleventh time that day.

That repeats itself every day so it's no surprise when just a month later you find out you're pregnant, did that soften it? No really I keep fucking you mercilessly and squeezing your throat until you see stars but you notice him rubbing your flat belly from time to time.

"The children in my family are big— when the baby grows up you may feel a little uncomfortable at first but don't worry, you will feel better during the seventh or eighth pregnancy."

Yandere Cowboy link

Well, reader actually does like yandere Cowboy (since she doesn't know what a bad person he really is) so from the start she wants to be with him and does what he asks her, she stopped taking birth control when he asked her to, she let him fuck her where he wanted and kept her legs up with a pillow underneath for half an hour so his semen wouldn't leak out because he asked her to.

Besides the fact that he knows how to take advantage of her, she's too young and naive and believes that besides her father he's the only one who loves and values her, so it's normal for her to let him sneak into her room (secretly from her father obviously) to fuck like rabbits, he squeezes her in a tight mating hold that barely lets her breathe keeping her legs pressed down almost touching her ears.

He pumps his fat cock into her pussy frantically as she lets out low mewls, he uses a calloused finger to rub circles on her tiny clit that tightens around his member from the overwhelming pleasure she feels and he lets out a guttural growl as he watches her delicious tits bouncing right in front of his face, with one final thrust he cums deep inside her womb flooding it with his swimmers.

"That was so good baby doll, ugh— ha! I bet after this I'll get you pregnant with twins, and if that's not the case we'll try again and again until it works."

Yandere Dilf link

I'd be over the moon, really. He already believes you're his wife, he's believed it since he first saw you holding his son (very delirious) and for you to accept that fact so happily and willingly to be his, to have his babies, would only increase his already enormous delusions.

You won't be going to college anymore, of course not. You'll stay home to take care of his son and prepare everything for when he comes back from work, as a reward he'll make love to you every night without exception, he'll fuck you fervently with one of his hands covering your mouth, muffling your high-pitched moans while his cock drills your swollen pussy mercilessly.

He'll kiss your tits and neck before licking the salt off your skin as he tells you how much he wants to fill you with his babies, that you'll be the prettiest mother ever, all fat and round with one baby in your belly while you hold the other on your hip, he keeps repeating those things over and over again until he finally reaches the limit by cumming deep inside your swollen pussy just like it should be.

"Darling— let's do it again, what if once isn't enough...? Come on spread your legs."

Yandere Sugar Daddy link

Honestly this man is arrogant as fuck when he sees how happy and willing you are to be his and have his brats, he'll end up gloating while pinching your cheek telling you how proud he is that you came to your senses and are his good little girl.

Obviously he'll take you to live with him in his mansion a big one so his future children can have fun running around all over the place, you'll drop out of your law career after all now you have him and his kids soon so why study? He'll fuck you anywhere, he'll fuck you on his private jet forcing you to ride him while the embarrassed stewardesses serve champagne without making eye contact, he'll fuck you on all fours in front of the fireplace filling you with his cum over and over again scolding you playfully when his cum comes out of your pussy staining his 50 thousand dollar carpet he sticks two fingers in your pussy plugging you.

He doesn’t stop fucking you when he finds out you’re pregnant, he doesn’t stop fucking you when you’re 7 months along and your stomach is all big and swollen, he lays you down on the bed making you ride him you bounce up and down as best you can while his hands rub your ass before moving up to your belly heavy with his child, his child, just the thought of him doing this to you turns him on so much, he ends up cumming inside you every time, without fail.

“Fuck— I wish I could put another one of my babies inside you right now, see you even more swollen with my children. Shit— move again.”

2K notes · View notes

thecoochiefairy · 26 days ago

Text

scorpio. onyankopon.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 7.5K word count. blackfem!reader, onyankopon, football player!onyankopon, sweet!onyakopon, dominant!onyankapon, arrogant!onyankopon, unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal penetration, lil bit of sweet talkin’, creaming, praising, butt stuff, LOTS of dirty talk, kinda aggressive dirty talk, oral [f] [m], nasty sex chile, just a fine ass black man, minors aren’t welcome!

𝓐ᥫ᭡

𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ from baby phat, to juno, to now—love this lil’ couple, real bad. but besides that, just wanted to do a lil something before my bday, march 8th. happy birthday to all my pisces babies. this one’s for you. also, imagine there goes my baby by usher on a loop. teehee.

𝓐ᥫ᭡ ; valentine’s day.

visual. visual. visual.

YOU WEREN’T GONNA CRY IN PUBLIC. A weak smile presented through your cupid’s bow lips, passing back a soft greeting of ‘Happy Valentine’s Day,’ as you exited the building, representations of love everywhere you went. You refused to show your vulnerable side somewhere no one cared to listen—your job.

To be honest, you should’ve gone home early. Your Mach and Mach satin bow heels echoed along the coffee shop as you waited for your strawberry refresher, a mixture of coconut milk making the drink your favorite color of pink. You started off having a good day—until it wasn’t.

Pulling into the garage of your high rise apartment, you pressed the button attached to your sun visor to activate the gate closing, parking your husband’s blacked out G Wagon in his reserved spot. The minute you shut off the ignition, you press your forehead against the wheel, letting out a deep sigh.

You didn’t want to sell yourself short—but being pregnant might’ve been easier than going back to work. While Onyankopon was enjoying the luxury of off-season, you took your opportunity to put the bug in his ear of working again. Even if he wanted another baby.

You had a masters degree in Marketing you desperately wanted to put to use, so when you finally got that interview, your pretty smile and charisma returned you with a position in management—but that unfortunately came with a price.

Business calls, meetings, lunches, sales pitches, meetings, sales pitches, business calls again. You were becoming piled with the same rotation of bullshit, and although you loved your job, you felt exhausted.

Through all of that, you still had a husband and now eleventh month old baby to go home to. Onyankopon supported your desires of going back to work, but with your schedule compiling more of work and less of your family, he was beginning to have something in common with his baby boy, Salem—he missed you. And today of all days, you were coming home later than you were supposed to.

It seemed as if your feet ached the closer you became to removing your heels, swiftly unlocking the front door of your apartment— to your surprise, bouquets of roses are the first thing you see. Signature red to rosy pink, a selection of your favorite flowers sit along the marble island of your kitchen.

Onyankopon always had it set to one of your playlists, R&B strumming through the inputted speakers along the ceiling. The room had a shadow of mulberry, LED lights vibrating the instrumentals of each song playing, accompanied by the living room's lamp.

There was your husband—legs spread along the sofa as he leaned his large upper body on the arm rest, pressing a pouch into your baby’s mouth to feed him. You’d just redone his cornrows, his lineup equally sharp as he cut his hair and goatee on a daily basis. He couldn’t stand looking scruffy, even if you liked the look at times. Tattoos cover his arms, camouflaging his throat, stick and pokes littering upon his face. The black top he wears hugs his muscular build, grey sweatpants showing the print between his legs, unable to conceal his gifted genetics.

Your face softens at the roses, turning your attention back towards your husband and baby on the sofa. It makes your heart melt.

Your voice is gentle as you question, “You’ got those for me?”

“You thought you wasn’t finna’ get nothin’?”

He glances up to your form through hooded lids. His voice was thick with his New Orleans accent, the timbre always making your heart swoon, just like when you met him in college.

“I was hopin’ you’d be home before them’ shits wilted.”

You pull your curls behind your ear, your face flushed at the sweet gesture. But your body also feels heavy, and you’re unsure if you should even acknowledge that.

You sigh, “I wasn’t able to get you anything in time—I told you I didn’t want a gift. And I wasn’t gone that long, Onyankopon.”

“Stop allat’,” he smacks his lips, “You was gon’ work through the entire day, have yo’ nigga by himself on Valentine’s Day.”

“Boy, hush. Love on yo’ baby for Valentines,” you remind, leaning down as you begin slipping your heels off your pained feet, “Is he starting to like the carrot pouches?”

“He ain’t takin’ to it like he should,” he says, making eye contact with you, “C’mon.”

“C’mon, what?”

“Tell me about work. I can see it all in yo’ face.”

Work.

That was the last thing you wanted to think about. You pad your feet over to the kitchen island, tossing your purse onto the marble as you reply, “Let me tell you. Remember how I was supposed to create this mock sales pitch and make my own bottle of wine?”

“Yeah. You was actin’ like you woulda’ had to sell that shit to the President.”

You roll your eyes as you come closer to him, “Anyways, I literally worked my ass off—made an entire script, PowerPoint, even had someone in my team create a label for my bottle! You know what them’ niggas said?”

Him being messy, he plays around as he responds, “What they’ said, girl?”

“That my idea was generic—that it seemed rushed, facile, and derivative. My three hour presentation seemed plagiarized?” You frown, “Do I look like the type of bitch to be looking over at somebody else’s work?”

“Mama, you know how these corporate niggas be. They want you to come up with their billion dollar ideas in exchange for a penny.”

He presses Salem’s pacifier into his mouth, closing the top on the baby’s food as he continues, “That’ job is bullshit anyways.”

You frown a bit, “It’s not bullshit to me, Ony. I’m really trying to show them I belong there. It’s not easy being the only black woman in management.”

“I’m hearin’ you,” he responds, “I just think yo’ time is more important than tryna’ spend it impressing a bunch of white folks.”

Back to the point of not crying in public—now, you weren’t in public. You could appreciate your husband trying to give sound advice, but it wasn’t what you wanted to hear. One thing since your pregnancy—it gave you the ability to cry at the drop of a hat.

Your sight becomes blurry as your face warms. You press your palms to your eyes, sniffling to stop the tears that roll from your vision.

“I feel so stupid.”

His brows furrow at your reaction, his large palm stretching from the plush sofa, gently pulling your wrist in his hold to climb along his lap.

“Don’t say that. Why you cryin’?”

“I worked so h—hard,” you cry, “And they didn’t even like it. I did all that for nothing…”

“Baby, that don’t’ mean you’ stupid, aight?”

He wraps his free arm around your form, other still holding Salem even closer.

“It ain’t for nothin’. You still got that degree. Ion’ know how many times I said you can do this shit on your own.”

You’re becoming more upset by the second as you rub your eyes that drop tears, nose and cheeks swelling as you softly weep, “What if I c—can’t do it by myself, Ony…”

“And who’ you think I am? You think imma’ just let you fail? Nah, baby. Come on…”

He rubs soothing circles on your side, pressing a hard kiss against your temple while holding you tight against his sturdy frame. The baby in his arms cooed as he could sense the change of atmosphere—even he started crying.

“Ah shit,” Onyankopon mutters, holding both of you to his chest, “Baby—You can do anything you set yo’ mind to. You could send a nigga to the moon if you wanted.”

That makes you softly giggle, feeling his thumb swipe the tears against your reddened face. Your eyes flicker over to Salem who creates a deep pout within his full cheeks, tiny cries ejecting as he was seemingly empathetic of his mother’s emotions.

You reach over Onyankopon’s lap, pulling his chubby frame into your arms as you coo, “Don’t cry, baby. Mommy’s just a lil’ dramatic.”

“You and Say-Say got the same theatrics, I swear.”

“Very funny—I’m so dramatic, but don’t you want a lil’ girl? What would you do with two of me?” You scrunch your nose,“And that’s why I’m not getting pregnant again.”

His hand moves to the underside of your chin, forcing your gaze back towards his face as he gives you a smirk, “You know you gon’ be pregnant again, quit bullshittin’. I be giving you that Daddy di—“

“Onyankopon,” you warn, “Language in front of Salem. Besides that, thank you for my flowers,” you lean forward, pressing kisses to his jaw, “They’re so pretty. You like my lil’ work outfit?”

You always dressed to match the theme of the holiday. The off shoulder black long sleeve you wear tucks into a matching pinstripe miniskirt, sheer tights with pink bows to match the heels you previously wore. Your dark curls always sprawled around your face, Vera Wang thinly squared frames tipping at your freckles nose, complimenting your slender eyes.

You can’t help but giggle as he grunts, dipping his finger under your skirt, tugging at the pink panties he knows you wear.

“You know pink’ my favorite color too.”

The way you relax under his hold reminds you of another factor with it being the middle of the month—you were ovulating, and every little touch, the flick of his eyes, the attraction in his smile. It makes your legs throb.

But yet, you pull yourself back as you sigh, “I gotta work on my new sales pitch.”

“You been workin’ on that bullshit all week,” he says against your neck, the hot breath against your sensitive skin making your thighs clench, “Why you denyin’ a nigga?”

You press your fingers to his mouth, “I’m not tryin’ to, Ony. They want me to present again tomorrow. Just give me some time, and then you’ll have all my attention, okay?” You promise, “Have a lil more daddy time with your son.”

“I’m tryna’ have some daddy time with you, girl,” he gruffs, “Fuck that job. I’ll drop some bands on that ass right now, give you yo’ fuckin’ salary in one’s.”

You stand from the sofa, dipping your lower body in his face, giving him a silhouette of your frame. Your curls hang to the side as you swirl your hips, “Like that, huh?” lifting up the material of your skirt, bouncing your ass playfully.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” he groans, giving a harsh smack at your ass, “Look at that ass bounce, baby. I swear, you be playin’.”

You giggle as you pull your skirt back down, “I will be in our office, Onyankopon. Try giving Salem a spinach and apple pouch, and bathe him in the rice milk soap before you put him to bed—his skin has been irritated with that other body wash.”

“You’ a demon,” he groans, letting his eyes linger on your body, “Aight, Aight. Heard’ you.”

The next couple of hours are somewhat peaceful. But another con about going back to work—Salem nor Onyankopon were used to you being gone as often, so the minute you were home, they wanted to be in your skin. It wasn’t a bad thing. It just made things a bit more difficult when you wanted your alone time—like now.

You used a bit of your baby’s body wash as you showered, loving gentle scented products, dabbing a bit of your vanilla body oil along your caramel skin when you stepped out. Your cotton white slip dress hugged your child bearing hips, dark curls damp as they reached your lower back. The moment you were doing your face care routine, you heard Salem wailing, and you had no choice but to go calm him down yourself. You also spent time with your two Dobermans, Zulu and Roux, bending down with a giggle as you fed the both of them.

Onyankopon’s eyes were on you. You were used to him staring, but maybe you didn’t catch the way he looked at you today. Valentine’s Day wasn’t relatively important for either of you, as Onyankopon treated every day full of love—showering you in gifts, loving you physically, mentally, emotionally—but tonight was different. Maybe he was starting to feel like everyone else but him was getting attention from his wife.

You’re now in your home's office, wine in one hand as you’re comfortably seated on the cream colored sofa, small desk in front of you as you type away on your pink Macbook. An unknown amount of time passes by, before a knock sounds at the door.

When it opens, a shirtless Onyankopon enters. It’s as if his tattoos create another top for him, arms swelling in muscles, abs sculpted to perfection. His durag covers his head, black silk allowing his silver nose ring and earrings to glow under the office lights. A weak smile comes to your face as you see him holding two plates, using his knee to shut the door as he comes in.

“Hi,” you softly smile, “You okay?”

He was so wrapped around your finger. His dark brown eyes drank in the sight of your body, the dress tight along your curves, your dark hair making your honey freckles appear lighter, glasses perched atop of your nose.

The dimple in his right cheek peeks through his grin, “Lawd, can’t a nigga come check up on his ol’ lady without a reason?”

He gives a gentle kiss on your cheek, leaning in close, “How long ‘you been cooped up in here, baby? And when you’ last ate?”

“Ate during my break,” you quietly reply, “I’m not too hungry, love. I swear. I’m almost done with this power point.”

Your eyes lock to what smells like Cajun pasta, the shrimp and sausages wafting in your nose. You were actually starving.

“Nah, don’t even do allat.’ I know how you get when you be workin’,” he smacks his lips, “You need to eat.”

You sigh, glancing at the clock as you see it’s nearing midnight. You had to be back up at seven, and you had only done one part of this presentation.

You glance back to your husband, forcing a small smile as you repeat, “I’m good, baby. How are you?” You question, placing your hand around his arm, pulling him to sit next to you, “Salem give you a hard time going to sleep?”

“Yeah, but he’ good now.”

He sits next to you, setting your plate down as he glances back to your work. A frown plays on his face as he feels the tension within your body, noticing the exhaustion in your eyes. It was clear you were pushing yourself, and it bothered the hell out of Onyankopon.

You notice the scowl on his face, still typing as you sigh, “You came in here to berate me?”

“I came in here to check up on yo’ hard-headed ass,” he gruffs, leaning against the back of the couch.

His gaze softens as it traces your features, the determination in your eyes as you try to finish your presentation, “But I’m tired of you runnin’ yo’self into the ground. You’ been in here for hours. Can’t it wait til’ the morning?“

“I have to be back up by seven, and my presentation is at eight. I just—“ you take a deep breath, having the urge to cry again, “I just wanna get this finished before I knock out.”

Onyankopon gives a long sigh, hand wrapping around your waist as he pulls you against his bare chest, “Damn, aight. My fault, Mama.”

He pressed a kiss at your forehead, resting his chin against your curls. His large body was warm, the heat of his skin seeping through the thin cotton of your dress.

“I got you sum’.”

His voice catches your attention, leaning yourself up a bit as you say, “Me? Ugh—Ony, no more gifts, baby,” you lightly pout, “You’re the best present I could ask for today.”

“Stop allat’,” he teases, pressing a kiss against your pouting lips, “It ain’t nothin’ crazy.”

He leans behind the couch, pulling a dark brown bottle in between his fingers, “It’s some warming oil. You always be’ saying how yo’ feet hurt, I thought a lil’ massage would help that tension. C’mon.”

He stands from the sofa, reaching his hand out for you to take.

You raise an eyebrow, “Where we’ going? Baby, you know I gotta finish this.”

“You ain’t about to finish shit til’ you get yo’ ass up and let me do this for you. “

When he used that voice, you knew there was no argument. You pull off your glasses as you stand from the sofa, taking his hand and allowing him to guide you towards your shared bedroom. When the door opens, you’re presented with a massage table. The mattress atop of the mahogany wood holding it up looks soft, a fluffy neck pillow perched at the top. The room smells of mint and lemon, lights dim as your playlist returns to your ears.

Dammit. Your freckles shine as those tears you’d been holding back revive themselves, leaning your face into your fingers as you sniffle, “You didn’t have to do this for me. I’ve been such a bad wife…”

Despite being a little frustrated, he never felt that way. You were pushing yourself too hard, again, always trying to please everyone at your job. He just wanted to distract you.

“You ain’t no bad wife,” His thick hands swipe away your tears, the pads of his thumbs tracing the shape of your freckles, “You’re doin’ what you love. Nothin’ wrong with that. Stop allat’ cryin’, and come get comfortable on this table.”

He was right—you were stressing yourself more than you needed to. You nod your head, wiping your eyes as his taller frame cradles over your smaller one, pulling at the straps of your slip.

Your voice is soft as you say, “I love you, Ony,” lifting your feet to get out of the dress, turning your head back to meet his lips that dip down to find yours.

“I love you more.”

You lay along your stomach against the table, pressing your cheek to the soft pillow beneath your skin. Your body practically anticipates his touch.

He grabs the body oil he’s been keeping warm in the pot next to him, letting it drip along the balls of your feet. The minute his thumbs dug into your soles, your fingers scratch at the material of the table, holding back the groan you wanted to release. His grip is steady, knowing just how hard to apply pressure. The heel of his palm slowly massages the flesh along the back of your calves, working up higher.

You expected this to feel good, but it was too good. Your lower body begins to feel loose in tension as his palms knead into the back of your thighs, almost causing your legs to go lax. It’s when his palms lightly graze the inner flesh of your thighs, that your body tenses just a bit. A different rush of pleasure comes from that action, that it has you subtly adjust your lower half.

His gaze is low, eyes peering down at the curves of your body. He can feel the way you tensed against his touch, your thighs subtly brushing together—it coaxed him further, returning his hands to your calves, starting the process over.

Your curls hang over the table as you hide your face within your left shoulder, eyes peering behind to watch him. When his palms slide above your thighs, gripping the flesh in his hold, your body shudders, a flushed giggle spilling from your lips, the spice of the oil wafting in your nose.

You fully giggle as you feel him lean down to catch the skin of your ass in his mouth, grunting as he messily kisses the flesh, “All this shit mine,” swatting the skin with his fingers.

You breathily muse, “You’re supposed to be massaging, Ony.”

He chuckles against you, tongue flicking out in return, “I am massagin’. Just addin’ a lil extra.”

A sharp inhale drags from your lips as he runs his tongue against your spine, turning your head opposite of him as you relax against the pillow, arching your body up to meet his mouth.

He slowly works on your upper back, fingers tracing along your shoulder blades, hands sliding down your bare arms. There wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t being tended to, his lips pressing against your neck.

“Turn over for me, Mama. I ain’t done wit’ you yet.”

You turn yourself onto your back, hair sprawling around your face as you breathily exhale, watching him tower over you from this angle.

“There you go,” he drawls, his hand rubbing along the side of your cheek. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, his eyes never leaving your face.

It was now a different sensation, having his touch along the fronts of your legs instead of your backside. Onyankopon was slow, taking his time, his hand slipping along the inner part of your thighs as his other palm worked along the outside.

The music seems to pool into your ears, and your entire body becomes warm without the oils assistance. The closer he comes, you raise your fingers as you slide them across his lower stomach, feeling the hard muscles of his abdomen with a slow flutter of your lashes.

His abs flex against your touch, the muscles rolling as your fingers traced the shape. Bible scriptures, your baby’s name, meaningful symbols inked along his skin like pen to paper.

“You tryna’ start sum’? C’mon now, I’m tryna be good, Mama.”

“So handsome, baby,” you lightly drag your teeth into the plush of your lips, “Sorry.”

He grabs your bottom lip, pulling it free from your mouth, “You ain’t slick,” He grunts, “But you’ cute for tryin’.”

It had to have been the wine you drank—your lower half throbbed at him daubing oil along your thighs. Your hips nearly grind at the touch of his hand, spreading your legs a bit wider.

You can’t stop yourself—the last swipe of his fingers draws into the bare dip of your pelvic. You whimper, your hand along his abdomen tugging down to his sweatpants, rubbing against the fabric of his bulge. He could hear the way your thighs squeezed together.

Onyankopon leaned forward, catching your plump lips with his own. It was quick and rough, even a little needy.

His hands then caressed you from your jaw, back to your shoulders, all the way down to your hips. Your body swayed with each touch.

“Ony…” you call softly, “I want you, baby…go slow…”

“I ain’t no gentle nigga, Mama. You know that,” his head sinks into the crook of your neck, tongue lightly brushing your collarbone, “But I’m not gon’ rush this, shit is too muhfuckin’ good.”

He takes your lips, your head knocking back as his mouth clouds all of your senses, making your head spin with every kiss he gives. Oil still splays along his fingers as he draws them down your body.

When his mouth pulls from yours, he’s mushing his lips along your nipples, sucking the brown buds into his mouth, the feeling making your head fall farther back onto the table, gasping lightly in response.

His mouth trails from one of your nipples to the next, teasing in between gentle suctions. Once he left, they’d already pucker back to their perk shape—a mixture of saliva and oil along the brown of your skin. The warmth of the lubricant rushes against your chest as he pours more, squeezing the flesh within his palms, knocking your breasts together with a grunt.

“Pretty ass fuckin’ titties.”

He’s back to kissing you. Your bottom lip became trapped between his teeth, tongue soothing the flesh with a sensual swipe against the softened texture. Your body was moving with his at one point, slowing when you felt his palm swaying up and down against your stomach, each time reaching lower.

The further he got, the more your body began to tense. It’s up until he slides his palm all the way down, the tip of his fingers brushing the inside of your thigh, swiping over your clit. His mouth catches yours as you whimper again,

instantly catching his wrist in your hold.

Even with you holding him back, Onyankopon keeps up the slight, gentle stroke, dragging his middle finger down and back against the bud. The faint pressure makes your hips twitch. His lips just barely touch yours.

“I got you, Mama. Lemme’ play wit’ it.”

It makes you clutch onto him tighter, a breathy whine releasing as he slowly begins to rub at your clit again.

Onyankopon parted your mouth back open to invade you with his lips, capturing and soothing all of your little noises, his touch—it drowned around you.

You shudder out another breath as you slowly nod your head, spreading your legs a little more. You look down as you watch him pull back, dropping saliva from his mouth, letting it slide in between your folds, coating the oil slick between his fingers. It makes you shiver.

Onyankopon lowered his brows as he used two of his fingers, sliding back up your folds, keeping them there. God, he knew he was getting to you. His fingers rubbing in a motion along your clit makes you pant against his mouth, the gush of your pussy beginning to register to your ears, your face now entirely hot.

Your thighs tremble as you have the urge to close them, keeping your fingers tight along his wrist. But as he continues, your hand weakens to hold him, too distracted by the wave of pleasure rushing against your lower body.

The pleasure goes from being good, too good, to all too much, Onyankopon’s fingers sinking into you, your mouth parting as you whimper deeply, watching the way they disappear beneath his palm. You hide your face within his chest as you whine, legs vibrating as if you’d been tased.

“Why this shit so fuckin’ wet?”

You pull him back into a kiss, crying against his lips as he fucks you with his fingers. His eyes bore into yours as he grunts, “You gon’ let go of my hand?”

You finally release his hand, spreading your legs even more as you allow his fingers to go deeper, nearly pulling your mouth away from his as you tremble, “Want your mouth, Ony…”

“That’s what you want, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“My mouth?”

“Ony,” you pout.

You could admit—you hated when you got like this. When he made you so horny that you begged for his touch, his mouth, anything he could give you. That’s when you turned your body along the massage table, leaning against the soft flesh of your stomach, imbedding your nails into the back of your thighs as you spread your opening to him.

Bubblegum pink complimented your brown flesh as you whimpered, “Come eat me, baby.”

His pupils darkened as you begged him. Your body jolts as you feel a harsh spank, your jaw dragging along the material of the table as you could feel his mouth hovering along your pussy, yet he wouldn’t make contact.

“You gon’ feed me?”

Your hips dip lower, desperately trying to find his mouth as you pout, “Promise. Lemme’ feed you, Ony.”

His nose brushes against your clit. The sensation causes you to lightly buck your hips, a deep chuckle rumbling against your thigh in return.

That’s when his mouth finally buries between your legs—Onyankopon’s tongue languidly swipes the entirety of your pussy in a slow drag, trailing upwards against your clit, making you shakily gasp in response. He laps against your pussy, almost as if he was licking a piece of candy instead of his wife, the warmth of his mouth surrounding your lower lips.

His tongue is thick, hot, and wide as he embeds himself between your folds, sucking and slurping, the wet sounds echoing in the room around you. He groaned against your pussy, tongue swirling around your opening as he teasingly thrusted inside, earning a soft whine from you.

“Ain’t finna’ give you my mouth forreal,” he murmurs between your pussy, “You need this dick, huh?”

He sucked at your clit, his tongue lashing and circling the swollen bundle of nerves. He enjoyed you, his jaw nearly pressed against your pelvis as he feasted.

Your mouth parts lightly as you reach from behind, sliding your palm against the material of his durag. His mouth was always so wet, so loud against your pussy that he grunts, “Always got me makin’ a fuckin’ mess on this bitch. You hear me, huh? Need you droppin’ on this dick like you know it belong to you. You listenin’?”

His words create more waves of pleasure, clenching your walls in need of something to fill you. You need him.

You grind against his mouth, riding the air for that sensation—you turn your head back to him, “Put it in, Ony,” you’re so horny, you beg as he shakes his head in your pussy, legs trembling so violently that your toes curl.

Turning back to see him pulling his dick from beneath his sweatpants made you want to put your mouth on the weight of his tip, but not nearly as bad as you wanted him inside of you. It was a dark pink, hefty as it slapped at the swollen lips of your walls, nearly bouncing off as he rubbed the shaft along your core.

Your folds begin to spread open, sucking in the girth that stretches you the minute he begins sinking you down on it. Your eyes flutter chaotically, rolling entirely back as that uncomfortable pinch returns, being overpowered by a wave of pleasure—you feel full, so full that you whine, “Mmmph,” dropping your hips down, your ass clapping along his abdomen echoing against the room.

Your eyes flicker to him from behind, curls falling around your face as you softly cry, “Dick so big, baby...”

“This yo’ big ass dick,” he promises, the wet noise of his tip entering your core, slowly dragging his length against your walls as you drop down— the feeling was unmatched.

His palm finds a grip on your shoulder, your body so sensitive to the touch that you’re aroused to any movement. You don’t know what comes over you, but you’re dragging yourself slowly off his dick, up until the tip kisses your entrance, rolling your hips back down, your pussy squelching as air pushes from your walls at that. Your lips part as you moan at your pussy being filled again.

He grunts, a slow burn making its way through your thighs as you reach back to take a firm hold of his sweats, dragging them down further to expose his balls. You sank down against his lap again, moaning at the pinch of your walls being stretched. You began to find a pace, a soft echo of skin clapping together as the head of his dick hits against your cervix, pressing and prodding at it, you whimpered, “Missed you so much, baby.”

The table creaks, the noise of your slapping thighs becoming louder as you bounce on his lap. His dick shifts in and out of you, Onyankopon’s grasp sliding down to your hip as he glares, “Shit, Mama…hollon.”

His dick throbbed within your walls, stretching you open as you took him inch by inch. You’re still dropping, coming down as you keep your eyes on him, “Feels like forever since you’ve been in me, baby,” you’re whining, “Fuckin’ love you. I’m sorry.”

“Oh shit,” he cusses under his breath, “Why you fuckin’ me like this?”

He spreads your cheeks, the weight of his thumb finding your hole. Your brain fogs as you register his voice, vibrations rumbling in your head. It made you gasp and shudder.

Onyankopon’s breath hitched, head knocking back as he looked down, seeing his length become more coated with your cream each time he pulled out.

“Nasty ass lil’ bitch—this pussy mine, huh?”

You could barely respond, barely think for yourself as he held you against him. The only word you managed to pant out was, “…Yours, Ony. Spank me,” you’re whimpering, “Spank me, baby.”

Onyankopon’s hand found the curve of your ass again, slapping it, the skin rippling against his touch. His grip was firm, slapping the same spot repeatedly, making you moan. His fingers find the wetness that trickled from your core, coating the fluid against your hole, pressing his thumb further into it.

He could smell that Italian bergamot in your hair, he could taste the sweet tang on his tongue from eating you before. He needed more. He needed to take more. He groans, picking up his pace as he slams his hips into yours, his dick buried to the hilt, the wet slap of his thighs against yours drowning out your cries.

"Look at that," he said, voice husky and rough, "Look at how fuckin’ good this shit looks. You mine, you ain't never fuckin' leaving me, who else gon’ fuck you like this?”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth parting as it nearly drooled, “I love you so much,” you shudder, “Oh my god,” placing your hand behind your back, wanting him to hold your arm in place.

Onyankopon’s fingers lace around your arm, slinging it around your back as he held it in place, slamming his hips against yours faster, fucking you harder. His dick throbbed within your walls, deliciously splitting you in half.

Nose buried into the crook of your neck, he caught himself inhaling the aroma of the products you used to wash yourself, always reminded that you were the mother of his child. He groaned against your ear, the wet heat of his breath giving you chills.

His fingers found the skin of your cheek, yanking your head to the side, taking your lips into a hard kiss. He sucked your lips into his mouth as he grunted, “You gon’ cum on it?”

It’s in that exact moment that your eyes flutter shut, trembling out a gasp against his mouth— Onyankopon feels as you coat his pubic hairs, clear fluid rushing out your folds like a violent chill. You lean along his shoulder as you murmur, “I’m cumming,” legs vibrating as he slows his strokes, letting you feel all inches of him.

Through your rapture, it’s as if your system is liquored with caffeine—you pull him onto the table, straddling his lap as you slide your tongue along his jaw, dragging it up his lips to pull him into a kiss. Your giggles are sultry, wanting more, needing more of him.

Onyankopon was a little caught off guard. Nonetheless he lowly chuckled, returning the kiss, sucking at your bottom lip. His hands explored your body, roaming across your back, down to your hips, squeezing at the curve of your ass.

"That wine getting to yo’ ass—You ain't tired?" He murmured, voice low and deep, "You want more?"

You nod your head, running your mouth down his abdomen as you kiss the curve of his muscles, “Just need you to lay there, Daddy.”

You’re going lower, up until your lips wrap along his balls, sucking them into your mouth indulgently.

Onyankopon eyes lowered ,"You ain't got enough stamina for all that," rubbing his fingers against your scalp, "And you know I love that shit,” he then groaned, watching you suck on his balls, tongue wrapping around them, massaging within your mouth. He felt his dick jump again, throbbing against his leg.

The sight of your husband made you even hornier. From his nose ring shining under the lights, to his tattoed face sultrily glaring at you. You’re already sliding his tip on your tongue, wrapping your fingers at the base as you pull your mouth back, feline eyes locked in his as you drop spit along his length. You then wrap your lips along his dick as you suck him into your mouth, moaning as your eyes roll back.

You were so pretty to him—from your freckled cheeks glimmering like pure honey, to the dark curls framing your round face and slender eyes. His dick was a challenge to take in fully, though you’d try anyways. Onyankopon’s tip throbbed against your tongue, his eyes fluttering shut for a mere second as you sucked him in. He felt his tip meet the back of your throat, grunting in response, fingers delicately scratching at your scalp, pushing your head down as he growled, "God damn baby, God damn.”

The growl that rumbled in his throat was loud, enough to send shivers down your spine, eyes dilated as he stared down at you. His fingers pushed against your scalp, encouraging you to continue.

You’re a sight to watch. You’re whimpering each time his tip hits the back of your throat, slapping his dick against your tongue. You moan each time it connects with your mouth.

The way you moaned. How it sounded, how it looked on you. He hummed back, throbbing between your lips, "Pretty ass, keep suckin’ that shit like that."

Seeing his pleasure sent you a new wave of euphoria. You’re sucking harder, faster, nearly whining at the pleasure that radiates through your own body.

Another wave of lust rushes over you. Onyankopon watched as you slid him out of your mouth, the slow trail of saliva was nearly too sexy, your fingers wrapping around his dick again, stroking him off.

“You want my pussy, baby?”

His brows furrowed, a low, raspy groan followed by a chuckle, "You know want that shit. So fuckin’ bad,” He murmured, the head of his dick flaring at the word, "Come drop it on me.”

You climb forward, placing your feet along the soft material of the table. The curve of your silhouette is all Onyankopon can watch, tracing your frame with his eyes as you pull his tip between your folds, the gummy flesh engulfing him as you sink down. You breathily gasp as you lift yourself halfway up, back arching as you grind your hips back down.

His head kneeled back, the feeling of you nearly too much to handle. His tip kissing at your cervix made him bare his teeth, feeling the tightening of muscles, "Ride this muhfuckin' shit," he breathed, the sound rumbling in his chest.

“Just need you to relax, baby,” you softly repeat, slowly grinding yourself up, sinking yourself back down. You drag your teeth along your reddened lips, knocking your eyes down as you moan, “You’re such a good husband, Ony…”

You’re rotating your hips, wining yourself against him, curls swaying around your face and shoulders. The way his eyes lowered is different from most times—he always had a dominance to him, but as his abdomen tightened, he was losing that restraint.

"You fine as fuck— Naaaah," he murmured, a longing in his voice as his hips stuttered, “Fuck, you can’t be doing allat’.”

A soft whine rolls off your tongue as you lock your palm against his thigh, using the leverage to drop yourself down onto him, the arousal splattering between your hot skin. You take his hand as you suck his fingers into your mouth, swirling your hips as you lowly giggle, “Lemme’ make you feel good,” your amusement thrumming into a whimper.

The hand that rested on your hip gripped tighter. His fingers pressed harder against your flesh, now rested on your collarbone, "Don't tease a nigga," eyes narrowed, lips slightly parted. You pull up your hips, slamming them back down, Onyankopon’s face twisting as he grunted, “Ooh, shit.”

The weight of his words made your thighs quiver, legs trembling as you kept the rhythm, sliding yourself down his lap as he ground himself up into you. You’re bouncing your hips against his lap, his tip jutting between the folds of your pussy each time you come up, teasing your clit that has Onyankopon growling.

“So pretty, Daddy,” you compliment, “Cum in me, I want another baby.”

His head tilted back, eyes rolling as you said that. A soft moan escapes him, hips twitching, "You talkin’ crazy," he muttered, a nervous chuckle in his voice, "C—Chillout’.”

“Salem needs a sibling.”

You lean yourself down, face inches apart as you bounce your ass on top of him, whining within his ear. It’s when he shoves his fingers into your hair to place your face within his neck, that you hear a whimper pass his lips. It makes you smile, like a seductive demon, turning your cheek to him as you whisper, “Sound so pretty, Daddy.”

“S—shit, Mama.”

Onyankopon’s moaning, your lips pressing against his jugular was almost suffocating. His mouth parted, breathlessly, his toes curling and his balls twitching, and that familiar rush came over him.

“Cum in me,” you whimper above his parted lips, his eyes rolled back as grind your hips down, “Fill me up, baby.”

The heat between your bodies grew, Onyankopon’s eyes rolling back in ecstasy as he moaned even louder, fingers scratching into the soft flesh of your thighs, hips, lower back, anywhere he could find. The rush of his release was too much, the slow build-up nearly unbearable as a warmth fills your walls.

Yet, he doesn’t stop there. His fingers were hooked into your waist, pulling you up, forcing you to come down on his dick as he grunts, “Told you to stop teasin’ a nigga," plop, plop, plop, the wet squelch of your walls was his favorite sound as he fucked into you—aside from your sobs, your eyes well with tears as you hold onto him, feeling a violent course of pleasure running through your body as you tremble, “I love you.”

“Stop cryin’,” he grunts against your lips, “You ain’t gotta cry to let me know you love me, I know. I love yo’ ass too, so cum all on this dick.”

His name left your lips, a loud, desperate squeal, and he loved hearing it. His mouth captured yours in a deep kiss, his tongue delving into the warmth of your mouth as another orgasm hits you, swallowing your moans, burying himself as deep into you as he could, as he was able.

The only thing heard at this point is the continuous song on a loop. You’re breathless above him, lazily trailing your mouth against his lips. The feeling is ticklish—so much that you give him a small giggle, cheeks warm at your own actions.

“…Ony?”

“Yeah?”

He chuckles between his breaths, feeling your body grow lax against his. He could see the exhaustion within your eyes, the way they grew a little hazy.

“You ‘bout to knock out.”

“Mm—Mm,” you shake your head, “I’m hungry.”

“You hungry?” he raises an eyebrow, “Yeah— the way you was ridin’ my shit, you should be.”

“Onyankopon.”

He laughs again, “Why you callin’ me? Can’t even get mad at that. You was’ on my shit like it was a muhfuckin’ saddle.”

“Oh god,” you place your hands over his face, “I was gonna get serious, and you’ playing. Can you stop?”

“Aight, I’m sorry. What you’ need, Mama?”

You sigh, pressing your lips together as you look at him. You then say, “Thank you…for all this. Going back to work after Salem has been really scary for me. I know I can do whatever I set my mind to, but…I miss being at home. I miss you, I miss Salem. I want another baby, Ony. Forreal this time.”

His brow quirks an inch, surprise flashing in his eyes.

“You serious, right now? You not playin’ with me?”

You can’t help the smile that grows along your face, “I mean it.”

He cups your face, drawing you in for a deep kiss, “I’d love nothin’ more than another baby with you. Can’t wait to see you waddling yo’ ass around the house again.”

You roll your eyes, returning the kiss with a couple of quick pecks. You then say, “I um…also might’ve lied to you about something earlier.”

“About what?”

“…I might’ve bought you a Valentine's gift when I said that I didn’t,” you admit, lashes fluttering against your cheeks.

He grins, “Oh… oh, you actin’ bad. Real bad.”

“Oh? Then you must not wanna hear about this Cartier watch—“ you shrug, patting his face as you get off of the table, humming as you begin making your way towards the bathroom.

His mouth falls open.

“Hollon’—you serious right now?! Forreal?!”

“I think I hear Salem crying,” you tilt your head, “Don’t you?”

“You think you finna’ leave after buying me a gift like that? Girl, I’m finna put two more babies in you!”

“Get back—you too freaked out!”

You take off into the bathroom, a full laugh choking from your lips as you feel arms tug around your hips, trapping you within his hold. And when the door slams, you giggle as he shows his infinite affection to you—as he always did.

#onyankopon fluff #onyakapon #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x black reader smut #onyankopon x you #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #ony smut #onyankapon #ony x black reader #aot x black reader #aot smut #aot fanfiction #aot

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inseobts · 26 days ago

Note

😭😭 need Monster trio (separately) x pregnant reader. all fluffy

like their reaction and how would they be during it 😓

but if u dont want to just ignore this!

Pregnant 🫵

how would they react at your pregnancy?

characters: luffy, zoro, sanji

words count: around 0.5k - 0.8k each

next part: 🫵 into labor - 🫵 made him a dad

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Monkey D. Luffy:

The sea breeze is warm as you stand on the Sunny’s deck, heart racing. Luffy is lying nearby, hands behind his head, smiling at the sky. His straw hat rests on his face, rising and falling with his steady breaths.

You swallow hard. This is it.

You walk up to him and poke his cheek “Luffy.”

His nose scrunches up, and he lifts his hat just enough to peek at you “Hmm?”

You sit down next to him. Your hands shake a little. He notices. His hat slides off his face completely, and he blinks at you “What’s wrong?”

You take a deep breath “I… I have something to tell you.”

Luffy sits up fast. His eyes are wide, full of curiosity “Oh! Is it something cool?!”

You let out a small laugh “Yeah… really cool.” You reach for his hand and place it gently over your stomach. “Luffy, I’m pregnant.”

He stares at you. Blinks once. Then twice. His fingers twitch against your belly.

Then— “WHAAAAAAT?!” he jumps up so fast that he nearly topples over. His hands flail before gently grabbing your shoulders “Really?! A baby?! OUR baby?!”

You nod, laughing at his reaction “Yeah.”

Luffy’s grin stretches wider than you’ve ever seen. He wraps his arms around you, squeezing tight “This is awesome!! I’m gonna be a dad?!” he pulls back, eyes sparkling “Wait, wait—does this mean there’s a tiny me in there?! Like—super tiny?!”

You giggle “Kind of.”

Luffy gasps dramatically “That’s so weird—but so cool!!” he crouches down and presses his ear against your belly, pouting “Oi, baby! Can you hear me? I’m your dad! Your super cool, super strong dad!”

You ruffle his hair “It’s too early for them to hear you, Luffy.”

He sits back, looking thoughtful. Then he beams again “I gotta tell everyone!!” Before you can stop him, he takes a deep breath and then—

“GUUUUYS! (Y/N) HAS A BABY IN HER BELLY!”

Footsteps thunder across the ship as the crew comes running. Nami facepalms, Zoro groans, Sanji faints, Usopp starts panicking, and Chopper yells something about medical checkups.

Luffy just sits there, hands on your stomach, grinning like he’s just found the One Piece.

Months Later

Luffy is… something else during your pregnancy.

He pokes your belly every day, fascinated by how it grows “It’s getting huge!!” he exclaims one morning, eyes wide “Are you sure there’s only one baby in there?!”

He steals extra food from Sanji’s kitchen and piles it on your plate “Eat! The baby needs to be strong, like me!”

He refuses to let you do anything dangerous “No fights! No running! No carrying heavy stuff! That’s my job now!” He puffs out his chest making you smile softly at him “Captain’s orders!”

At night, he talks to your belly in a serious tone “Okay, listen, baby. When you come out, we’re gonna have so much fun! I’ll show you how to stretch like me! And how to eat tons of meat! And we’ll go on super cool adventures!”

One night, as you lay in bed, his arms wrapped protectively around you, he mumbles sleepily “Love you. Both of you.”

Your heart melts. You smile, placing your hand over his “Love you too, Luffy.”

He grins even in his sleep, dreaming of the greatest adventure yet, being a dad.

── .✦ Roronoa Zoro:

The evening air is warm as you stand on the deck of the Thousand Sunny, watching the ocean waves. Your heart beats fast, but not from battle or danger, but from the words you need to say.

Behind you, Zoro trains like always. His swords cut through the air with sharp precision, muscles flexing as he moves. His brows furrow in focus, sweat dripping down his forehead.

You take a deep breath. Now or never.

“Zoro”

He stops mid-swing, turning to you “Huh?” His tone is rough, but his gaze softens when he sees your expression “Something wrong?”

You step closer, gripping the hem of your shirt. Your nerves make your fingers twitch, but you push through. You have to tell him.

“…I need to tell you something important.”

Zoro sheaths his swords, sensing your seriousness. He crosses his arms “Yeah?”

You swallow. Then, carefully, you take his hand and place it over your stomach.

“I’m pregnant...”

Silence.

Zoro doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. It’s like the words haven’t registered yet. His hand rests on your stomach, fingers barely pressing into the fabric of your shirt.

“…What?” His voice is quiet, actually too quiet for him.

You squeeze his hand “We’re having a baby, Zoro.”

His breath catches. He stares at you, eyes flicking between your face and where his hand rests on your stomach. His fingers twitch slightly. A baby. His baby.

Then, suddenly, you’re lifted off the ground.

“Zoro—!” you laugh as he picks you up effortlessly, holding you close. His grip is firm but careful, like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

When he finally sets you down, his hands linger on your arms, steadying you. His face is unreadable for a second, and then a smirk.

“Tch. Guess I really have to get stronger now.”

You raise an eyebrow “Why?”

Zoro’s smirk softens just a little. His thumb brushes your stomach lightly “To protect both of you.”

Your heart swells. He’s serious.

You press your forehead against his “You’re already strong enough, idiot.”

Zoro scoffs “There’s no such thing.”

Then, after a pause, he mutters “…Are you okay?”

The question is so simple, but the weight behind it makes your eyes sting.

You nod “Yeah. Just… nervous.”

Zoro’s arms tighten around you “Me too.”

You pull back slightly, surprised “You? The great Roronoa Zoro? Nervous?”

He clicks his tongue “Tch. This is different” he glances at your stomach “Fights, enemies, swords—I know how to handle those. But this?” His hand brushes your belly again, softer this time “This is new.”

You smile, lacing your fingers with his “We’ll figure it out together.”

He exhales, like a weight has lifted from his chest “Yeah.”

And for the first time in a long time, Zoro doesn’t feel lost at all.

Months Later

Zoro is the most overprotective person ever.

He watches you like a hawk. If you so much as sigh, he’s next to you in a second.

“You okay?”

You roll your eyes “Yes, Zoro. For the hundredth time, I’m fine.”

He grumbles but doesn’t stop hovering.

He always refuses to let you lift anything.

You reach for a barrel and then “Put that down.”

You try to carry plates from the kitchen and he goes “I got it.”

You bend down to pick up a book, Zoro glares and “What did I just say?”

He even walks with you everywhere.

“You don’t have to follow me to the bathroom.”

“What if you trip?”

“Zoro.”

“…What if an enemy attacks?”

You groan, but he just folds his arms and stays put.

He also naps closer to you now.

Zoro still sleeps a lot, but now he always makes sure to be near you. Some days, he dozes off with his head on your lap, his arm draped over your growing belly.

You run your fingers through his hair, feeling his slow, steady breathing. He won’t say it out loud, but you know he’s nervous, and this is how he comforts himself.

One time, you catch him talking to your stomach when he thinks you’re asleep.

“You better not kick too hard in there… Your mom needs to sleep” His voice is quiet but gruff. Then, after a long pause, he adds, “…Can’t wait to meet you, though.”

Your heart melts.

Later that night, you whisper “Are you scared?”

Zoro is silent for a moment. Then, he exhales “A little.”

You lace your fingers with his “Me too.”

He turns his head to look at you, eyes steady “We’ll figure it out.”

You smile “Yeah.”

Zoro presses his forehead against yours “Get some sleep.”

As you drift off, Zoro stays awake a little longer, hand resting on your belly.

For the first time, he’s facing a future he can’t predict, a battle he can’t train for.

But he knows one thing for sure—he will always protect you. And your child.

No matter what.

── .✦ Vinsmoke Sanji:

The smell of fresh bread and sizzling butter fills the Thousand Sunny’s kitchen as you sit at the counter, watching Sanji move. He hums to himself while stirring a pot, completely in his element. His blonde hair falls over his eyes, but he doesn’t seem to care.

You take a deep breath, heart racing. It’s time to tell him.

“Sanji...” you say softly.

He turns instantly, smiling “Yes, my love? Dinner will be ready soon.”

You shake your head “I… need to tell you something first.”

Sanji notices your serious tone and wipes his hands on a towel before walking over “What is it, sweetheart?” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, concern in his ocean-blue eyes.

You take his hand and press it against your stomach.

“I’m pregnant”

Sanji freezes.

His fingers twitch slightly against your belly, his usual smooth confidence suddenly gone. His mouth opens, but no words come out. His cigarette almost falls from his lips.

“…What?” his voice is barely a whisper.

You smile nervously “We’re having a baby.”

Sanji stares at you, his eyes wide. Then—

THUMP.

His legs give out, and he falls to his knees in front of you. His hands stay on your stomach as he looks up, completely overwhelmed.

“You’re… serious?” His voice shakes “I—I’m going to be a father?”

You nod, tears prickling in your eyes “Yeah.”

A sharp inhale. Then, suddenly, Sanji buries his face against your stomach, arms wrapping around you so gently, as if he’s afraid to break you.

“Mon amour… I don’t even know what to say” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. You feel his breath against your skin, warm and shaky “This is the greatest gift you could ever give me.”

You stroke his hair, heart swelling “So… you’re happy?”

Sanji pulls back slightly, grinning through tears “Happy? (Y/N), I feel like I just won the whole damn world.”

Then, his hands cup your cheeks, and he kisses you—soft, deep, full of love.

“Wait—!” He pulls away suddenly, eyes wide “You need food! Proper nutrition! I need to—” He rushes toward the kitchen, grabbing ingredients at lightning speed “I’ll make you something right now—no, I’ll make ten meals—no, twenty! The baby needs to eat too!”

You laugh, watching him run around in a panicked, love-struck frenzy.

Sanji is going to be the best dad.

Months Later

Sanji is the most devoted, doting, over-the-top partner ever.

He refuses to let you do anything.

You try to stand up? He’s already pulling out a chair for you.

You reach for a glass? It’s in your hand before you can blink.

You sigh in the heat? He’s fanning you immediately.

“Sanji, I’m pregnant, not broken” you groan.

“My love, you are carrying our child!” He places a dramatic hand over his heart “I refuse to let you lift a single finger!”

Sanji cooks nonstop for you.

“Here, sweetheart, eat this.”

“Sanji, I just ate five minutes ago—”

“The baby might still be hungry!”

He talks to your belly constantly.

“Hello, little one! This is your father speaking.” He presses a kiss to your stomach “I hope you’re nice and comfortable in there. When you come out, I’ll make you the most delicious food in the world!”

Then, more seriously, he whispers “And I’ll take care of you. You and your mother. Forever.”

Your eyes tear up every time.

At night, Sanji holds you close, his hand resting protectively over your growing belly.

“You should sleep” you murmur, noticing he’s still awake.

“I’m just… thinking” he admits.

“About what?”

Sanji sighs softly “I never thought I’d have this,” he says “A family. Someone to love… and now, both of you.” He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “It’s like a dream.”

You smile, lacing your fingers with his “Then let’s make it the best dream ever.”

Sanji chuckles, pulling you even closer “Oui, mon amour.”

As you drift off, you feel his lips brush against your stomach once more.

And you know, without a doubt Sanji will love this baby with everything he has.

1K notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 9 months ago

Text

Sanemi lashing out on his pregnant wife only to beg her for forgiveness later

Pairing: Sanemi x pregnant!reader

Word Count: 3,1k

Synopsis: Like every week, you find yourself on your way back from Shinobu's estate and your pregnancy check-up. Little did you know what horror awaits you at your own home with your husband almost killing two kids...

Warnings: Sanemi is mean in this one and I mean it, extreme hurt but also comfort in the end so don't worry, full Shinazugawa package regarding language and violence lol, not proofread because I have to leave now

Thank you sooo much for that cool request @itsmscoco and I'm sorry it took a while. I really hope you like what I came up with 🤍

You rub your minor belly. For a woman, a pregnancy should feel like a trip to heaven. After all, you are blessed with developing a child that is half you and half your husband. Oh, your beloved and surprisingly gentle husband who always makes sure that you get enough sleep, that you nutrition yourself properly. But even the wind hashira can’t do a single thing against your constant sickness and pain.

“Please try this out, (y/n). Don’t hesitate to come here again if you need something else. You really have an unfortunate pregnancy when it comes to nausea”, Shinobu comments gently while giving your belly a little massage.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited about the honor of caring for a child in my own body. But honestly, I’m so glad when this pregnancy is over”, you huff while taking a deep breath in.

Please, don’t vomit all over the insect pillar who’s just trying to help. You’ve been here what feels like everyday since finding out you’re pregnant. Well, to be exact, Shinobu is the one who suggested that you might expect a child.

Because of your never-ending sickness.

“Oh, there’s nothing to get wrong at all! After all, your pregnancy is a rather difficult one. But I’m sure Shinazugawa is taking good care of you!”

“He definitely does. My husband is an angel”, you reply in an instant.

You can’t wait to go back home. Even though your sleep-drunken eyes won’t be able to stay open longer than maybe a few hours, even though you weren’t able to catch a proper glimpse at Sanemi’s part in the on-going hashira training until now, you can’t wait to go back home. Back into your estate, back into the arms of your beloved husband.

“Not quite the codename I’d use for him, but that’s just what love does, right? I will send a kakushi along with you. Otherwise, Shinazugawa might show up and threaten me”, Shinobu jokes while helping you to get up.

“Thank you for your help. Again.”

You pull the insect hashira into a deep hug. How lucky you should consider yourself for the opportunity to call Shinobu your friend, that Sanemi laid his eyes on you. Out of all the countless women around, the ones with faces like porcelain and bodies so well-formed you can’t hold a candle against every single one of them. But still, he chose you.

“Come on, (y/n). Why are you crying?”, Shinobo whispers into your ear while rubbing small circles onto your back.

“I’m just a little overwhelmed from everything I guess”, you mumble against her comforting shoulder.

Just a few months ago, you would have laughed at anyone who told you that your life would turn out like this. Of course, you’ve lost countless good friends and family members on the way and living with a suborn husband like Sanemi isn’t always easy. But somehow, the two of you always make it work.

Right?

-at the wind hashira estate-

“We are almost there. Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just a little tired from walking, that’s all!”

Truth is, your feet hurt like hell. Shinobu reported about women who don’t even feel their baby until the second trimester. Why are your feet already swollen, your belly bloated, your guts constantly turning? And there’s still so much ahead.

“Looks like Shinazugawa-sama received a new bunch of trainees after the other corps members all landed in Kocho-sama’s hospital wing”, the kakushi next to you comments dryly.

“Was it really that bad?”

Of course you heard about the rather brutal training methods of your husband. After all, even the walls of his estate aren’t thick enough to stop every single scream from reaching your ears. But still…

“It was pretty bad. Some of the-“

Glass cracking. Screams from afar. Out of instinct, you pick up your pace until you dash towards your home, sweat now dripping from every pore. What happened? Is Sanemi alright? He wouldn’t leash out on one of his students like that. Something must have happened. A demon? No, it’s still daytime. But what is it?

“He’s back! He’s back! That cold-blooded man! Lie down and pretend that you’ve fainted!”, a blonde-haired boy screams while almost collapsing onto the floor.

“What are you talking about? What’s going on here?”, you press out.

Your lungs threaten to fail you, breath already tasting like pure iron.

Until your eyes find Genya.

Your guts twist and turn in every direction, almost force you to vomit all over the place. Genya shouldn’t be here. Out of all people, it shouldn’t be him. And who’s the boy next to him. That familiar scar, you’ve seen that boy before. Is it possible that…

“Kamado Tanjiro”, you breathe out.

Maybe that is even worse.

Your eyes dart around the area without an aim. Where’s Sanemi? Did he find them already? They need to leave before he finds out that they’re here, carry on with another hashira training.

“Please stop now!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouts while stretching out his arm in defence.

An uneasy feeling crawls up your spine, the dark claws of sickening foreshadowing. All you can do is standing death still right where you are and watch in sheer horror as your husband stomps out of your estate motion.

Is that your husband you love and adore, though? You know how untamed he can get especially when getting confronted with his painful past. It was never easy for him to see Genya join the demon slayer corps or realize that his mother could have been saved like Tanjiro’s sister.

But never in your entire life have you seen him like this. The empty shell of your husband, muscles tensed to the maximum and his empty orbs directed towards the two boys in front of him.

In this very moment, you’d trust him to actually kill them.

“What are you going to do? Are you planning to kill Genya?”, Tanjiro continues passionately.

Your glossy orbs are set on your husband. Would he really do something like that? What if you witness the father of your unborn child taking the life of two other human beings? Your heart can’t take it, knees threaten to fail you.

“Hell no, I’m not going to kill him. It would be easy enough to kill him, but since it’s against the rules and all…I’m going to ruin him beyond recovery!”

Until your blurry head finally makes a decision and allows your feet to run.

Straight towards the two boys.

Straight into the firing line.

Straight into the sight of your now maniac husband.

“You won’t do any of these things, you hear me?”, you jeer at him with your new-found courage.

“(y/n)”, Genya breathes behind you.

“How dare you to talk to innocent children like that, Sanemi?”

The man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, hands clenched into tight fists while taking a step towards you.

“Get lost. Right now”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

You swallow hard, all nerves now tingling in sheer horror. This is the first and last warning, without any doubt. The look on his stone-cold face tells you more than urgently that Sanemi isn’t playing, that he doesn’t want you here.

Maybe it’s best if you go back inside and pretend that nothing happened. He himself said that he won’t kill them, after all…

“I’m not leaving”, you bite back.

But that would mean leaving Genya alone. That would mean giving up all of your principles.

“Will you act out like this towards our child as well?”, you continue while growing bigger and bigger in front of the two boys.

He might be your husband, the love of your life. That doesn’t mean you’ll always have to do what he tells you, tough. Instinctively, you clench your hands into tight fists with your glossy eyes almost piercing through him. Enough is enough.

“If our child acts as dumb as you do, I sure as hell will!”

Oh.

Your heart drops to the floor when a nauseous wave of agony hits you with full force. Sanemi is and has always been a hot-headed man who never thought twice about the things he said. But never, not even once in your entire relationship he insulted you.

Until now.

“Is this really how you feel about me? We should support each other, you should listen to me as well as-“

“Spare me with that bullshit, (y/n)”, Sanemi spits at you.

“Get.out.of.the.way. Can’t you hear me?”

It’s like you stop living for a moment. All this time, you did your best to understand him and his grief. Everything Sanemi does comes with a logical reason behind it, even though it’s hard to see from time to time. But lashing out at you like that?

“Stop being so disrespectful to me right now. I am your wife-“

“Right now, you’re my problem”, he jeers back.

“And now get off my sight and let me finish this real quick-“

You don’t know what made you act the way you just did. Was it his cruel behaviour, the way his words cut through your heart like a thousand knives? Before your husband is even able to finish his sentence, your palm races towards his cheek with full force.

The world around you goes silent, frightful gazes glued onto you while you can’t stop your tears from falling anymore.

“Is this how you’re acting around your pregnant wife by now, how you’ll treat innocent children? If that’s the live you chose, I’m not a part of it anymore”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, the urge to get as far away from him as possible becomes unbearable. Your feet start sprinting towards the estate on your own, carry you into your now so empty-feeling bedroom.

And finally, you allow yourself to break down and cry.

Is this really the man you love, that you’d give your life for? Your shaky fingers caress your belly mindlessly.

You can’t stay here. Not when Sanemi showed you a completely different face today. Not when this place doesn’t feel like home anymore.

-a few hours later-

“Fuck!”, Sanemi cries out on top of his lungs while dashing towards Obanai over and over.

Why can’t he get your stupid words out of his mind? The way you stood there with tears in your eyes, how he was literally able to hear your heart crack when those damned words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, to drag you into the fuckery with his little brother and that Kamado boy.

But why did he say all those dumb things, then?

“You seem off, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly, hitting the wind hashira with full force again.

“I guess I fucked up”, Sanemi mumbles.

What if you won’t forgive him for today? Your last words haunt him since the moment you left him standing in the rain.

“I bet you can talk your way out of it-“

“Hell nah. I don’t think she wants to see me tonight.”

“Did you ask her, though?”

“Who the hell do you think you are anyway? You’re the one to talk, not able to confess your feelings to Mitsuri”, Sanemi barks at the man next to him.

“But yeah, maybe I should get going…”

Coming home never fuelled him with so much fright. What if you’re still angry at him, if you refuse to even talk to him? Or even worse, what if you’ll really leave him?

Sanemi’s guts turn in an instant, feet now picking up their pace with every step. He can’t lose you. Not you, the light of his life. Not when you are the only ray of sunshine in this rotting hell. What the hell did he do? The fact that he even raised his voice at you is unforgivable.

Finally, his fingers grab the door that leads to your shared bedroom, finally he’s able to make up for his mistakes of today-

His eyes widen in sheer horror.

You’re gone.

Right there where your head should rest, there’s absolutely nothing.

Panic starts rising up his chest, forces his heart down his throat.

Did you leave?

He yanks out of your shared room, eyes roaming around each and every corner of your estate. But you aren’t there. You aren’t here.

“My lady is at the love hashira’s estate.”

Sanemi darts up immediately, greeted by the oh so familiar voice of your personal crow.

“Is she fine, why did she-“

“With all due respect, I suggest you to control yourself before making any more insensitive comments to my lady-“

“Who the hell do you even think you are you-“

“Your earlier spoken words really troubled her and my lady certainly does not deserve that.”

Without another word, your crow disappears into the darkness of night again.

Sanemi swallows hard. Fuck, did he really hurt you that badly? He never wanted you to feel bad, never wanted to hurt you. Damn, he only wanted to show Genya and that Kamado boy their places. It shouldn’t have hit you. Out of all people, why did he have to hurt you?

“I need to tell her”, he mumbles under his breath before dashing towards the love hashira estate.

-at Mitsuri’s-

“I can’t believe Shinazugawa said something like this to you, (y/n)! You are super far away from being dumb, after all! Here, eat another pancake and stay as long as you want.”, Mitsuri babbles while handing you another plate.

Your dry eyes are barely able to stay open any longer. All the grief, explaining, fighting and crying did apparently really wear you out. Good for you Mitsuri’s estate is near by and you just know she’ll always open her arms for you.

“Thank you so much for taking me in, Kanroji. I really don’t deserve your kindness”, you sniffle.

“You have to be joking, (y/n)! It’s my duty as your friend to be there for you anytime you need me! And also, I-”

Three violent knocks on Mitsuri’s wooden door almost send you over the edge. It’s past after midnight, the time closer to the morning than evening. Who would knock on Mitsuri’s door this late at night?

“Do you think that’s a demon?”, you mutter in horror, both pairs of eyes set on the door.

“I don’t think so. Let’s see!”

Before you’re able to stop Mitsuri, she rips open the door.

And reveals no other than your husband.

“Sanemi”, you breathe out.

Tears start swelling up your eyes in an instant when a flood of memories crushes you all over again. Just a few hours ago, your husband made very clear that he doesn’t want to see you again anytime soon. How did he find out that you’re here?

“(y/n), can we…have a talk?”, he mumbles with icy voice.

“Do you want to leave me?”, you blurt out.

“What?”

Is that really how you feel, what you think of him? That he’ll turn his back on you after a fight? He did say all those nasty things to you, though.

“I think I’m going out and…cook!”, Mitsuri announces while sprinting out of the door, leaving you alone in the room with all that tension and him.

Him, the man you love more than anything else in this world. And also him, who broke your heart like he never did before.

“You have to be kidding me”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.

You turn away before you lose your composure completely.

“Why are you here, Sanemi?”

“Do you really think I’m here to dump you!? You, my pregnant wife!? You can’t be fucking serious about that!”

In the matter of seconds, you find yourself surrounded by his usual so comforting arms that now hurt like daggers against your skin.

“Please, let me go, I can’t do this ri-“

“(y/n), please.”

His suffocated voice forces your eyes to dart upwards.

Instantly, your heart drops to the floor.

Is this really your husband, crying against your shoulder while pressing your body against his?

“I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve said, I’m sorry for making you feel this way. I’d never leave you, not when I’m even lucky for calling you mine. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, I just…I just can’t stand them…”

“Sanemi…”

“And I get that I don’t deserve you and that I’m a jerk for hurting you. I know you could’ve had every man you wanted-“

“Sanemi!”, you snap at him, holding onto his face tightly.

“But you’re the one I want”, you finally cry out.

“But your words hurt me. Is this really how you feel about me? Do you really think I’m a burden?”

“I was out of my fucking mind for saying that to you! You’re my blessing, my everything, the sunshine in this rotting hell. You’re…You’re my wife, right?”

That innocent look on his now tear-soaked face runs shivers down your spine, reminds you that even though he acted out today, this man is still the Sanemi Shinazugawa you fell in love with years ago.

“I am your wife”, you press out before a new wave of tears haunts you down.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). So so sorry”, he mutters again and again while kissing every tear away that escapes your eyes.

“And I’ll never talk to you like that again, I promise.”

“Will you promise to not treat Tanjiro and Genya like that ever again too?”

Sanemi shifts his weight underneath you, his orbs growing hard again. Was this too much to ask for? No. Even though you love Sanemi’s rough side as well, he simply can’t do something like this again. Not when you’re his wife, not when you are expecting his first very own child.

“I will. But only if these jerks leave me alone”, he grumbles before giving you a passionate kiss.

“That might be manageable. I want to go home now…”

“No problem, I’ll carry you-“

“You really don’t have to carry me-“

“Oh, but I sure as hell will.”

“HAVE A GOOD NIGHT YOU TWO! AND DON’T ACT LIKE A JERK AGAIN, SHINAZUGAWA!”

“Did you have to tell her everything?”

“She’s my friend, Sanemi. Of course I had to.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt

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checkeredflagggs · 1 month ago

Text

Scavenger Hunt

pairing: max verstappen x girlfriend!reader

summary: fans are baffled when they spot max verstappen running about Monaco on Valentine’s Day — what’s causing him such panic?

a/n: inspired by the upcoming baby verstappen and little Donut

a/n2: I know there’s a typo in one of the texts but I didn’t want to rewrite that so imagine there isn’t please

Masterlist | Taglist

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Bluesky

user1: it’s so early and on Valentine’s Day…are you guys thinking what I’m thinking?

↳user2: that he forgot to get y/n something and is now rushing around last minute?

↳user1: yup!

user3: it’s so fun to see celebrities act just like regular people

user4: just how early is it over there

↳user5: extremely. I honestly have no idea what he’s doing up right now

user6: early, rushing around, and he’s still kind enough to smile at people…

↳user7: I have no idea how people think he’s a villian

↳user8: right? He’s just a little pookie

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Private Messages, Lando and y/n

Bluesky

user9: another max spotting!

user10: he must have completely forgotten about Valentine’s Day…

user11: wild thoughts thrown into the universe but…are they even still dating??

↳user12: what??

↳user11: neither of them have posted anything about each other in months. By this point in winter break last year, there was like 100 photos of what they were doing and where they were going…

↳user12: omg don’t even say such thing again…

↳user13: ohhh you have a point. I don’t like it but you have a point…

user14: was he up at the crack of dawn or something??

↳user15: that’s what I was wondering…

user16: ok but where was he going in such a hurry??

↳user17: I saw him today! He was ducking into a local bakery and he came out empty handed about 2 minutes later

↳user16: he’s rushing about at the crack of dawn to go to bakeries???

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Private Messages, Charles (and Alex) and y/n

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Bluesky

user18: I saw him this time!

↳user19: well?

↳user18: another bakery and this time he came out with a bag from them. He was still in a rush

↳user19: interesting interesting 🤔

user20: he’s been spotted all over Monaco hasn’t he?

↳user21: At least 4 different locations now yes!

↳user20: have they all been bakeries?

↳user21: as far as we know yes

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Bluesky

user22: he looks so good!

↳user23: he always does… y/n is so lucky…

user24: was it another bakery?

↳user25: it was!

↳user19: hmmmm

user26: did he answer any questions while he was signing?

↳user27: he was chatting with us!

↳user28: did you get anything interesting from him?

↳user27: thankfully he’s still dating y/n — he was laughing because apparently she had ordered donuts from a bakery last night but forgot which one so he’s out and about trying to track them down

↳user28: awwww

↳user19: 📝📝📝

user19: I have a theory!

↳user29: is it completely crazy and out there?

↳user19: no! Well maybe! But I have some proof!

↳user29: oh no…

user19

liked by user, user, user, and 21,823 others

user19: I believe that y/n, Max Verstappen's girlfriend, is pregnant! Facts!

1 — these are the last photos she posted of herself before she went into a soft blackout (she’s only posted a couple of congratulations for Max and the McLaren boys near the end of the season). Those clothes and that pose? Classic for hiding pregnancy — and it even looks like she has a bump in that last one

2 — Max's store has a host of new baby items (cute af and I’ve already ordered some for my nieces and nephews). Why would he seemingly spontaneously start to carry baby stuff? Cause he’s got a kid on the way

3 — the last couple streams Max has done, he’s talked about legacy and the future. Not the strongest evidence but both Max and y/n have said in the past that they’d like to have a kid or 2 when they get more settled in their lives

4 — Max’s behavior today. Rushing all about various bakeries? That just screams pregnancy cravings — I bet that y/n sent him out to get something specific and he was trying to find it/them

In conclusion, y/n is pregnant and I think she’s pretty far along — and they’re trying to hide it

view all comments

user30: oh my god…

↳user31: baby verstappen incoming!

user32: holy shit…

↳user33: I don’t know what to say here

↳user32: I do! user19 you’re crazy

↳user19: just because I’m right doesn’t mean I’m crazy!!!

user34: I don’t think I’ve wanted anything to be more true in my life…

↳user35: big mood

user36: this is such a stretch but god do I want it to be true

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Private Messages, Lando and Charles and y/n

Private Messages, Max and y/n

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 2,913,923 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: our little family is growing — this is Donatello. Thank you yourusername for the wonderful Valentine’s Day surprise!

And baby Verstappen is coming Spring 2025

view all comments

user37: WHAT???

↳user38: it’s just like max to showcase his cats first…

↳user37: well baby Donatello came to the house before baby Verstappen liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1

yourusername: awww I’m glad you like little Donatello

↳yourusername: and that you didn’t mind me sending you all over the place this morning

↳user39: did you really send him on a goose chase today?

↳yourusername: well I had to get him out of the apartment somehow and pregnancy cravings are a good catch all 😂

↳maxverstappen1: schatje…

↳yourusername: you love me really

↳yourusername: and i had to come up with something when you heard me talking about Donut…

↳user39: awww is his nickname Donut?

↳yourusername: no

↳maxverstappen1: yes

↳charles_leclerc: yes 😊

↳yourusername: ugh

oscarpiastri: congrats on the new additions

↳yourusername: thanks Oscar!

charles_leclerc: you’re welcome for helping!

↳yourusername: thanks again Charles!

↳maxverstappen1: yes thank you

↳charles_leclerc: ☺️☺️

↳yourusername: oh yeah max he wants godfather liked by charles_leclerc

landonorris: and i don’t get any thanks for helping?

↳user40: threesome??

↳maxverstappen1: what

↳landonorris: no no no I helped hide the new cat

↳yourusername: ewww no. He hid some of the extra cat supplies for me in an effort to bag godfather

↳maxverstappen1: say goodbye to the potential godfather title

↳landonorris: FUCK

↳charles_leclerc: HA!

user19: I WAS RIGHT!! liked by user53

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @Voidvannie @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff

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madamechrissy · 24 days ago

Text

Took you Like a Shot

Pairings- Rich Frat/fuckboi Toru x Preppy Sorority reader

Summary- One VERY drunk encounter between your greatest rival ever - on your last day of college- leads to you being knocked up. Satoru Gojo, a fuckboy, fratboy, rich little jerk, has been a rival of yours since you all met in College, every damn grade you fought for he got with ease. He crashed every Sorority party you threw. The two of you are so infamous in your rivalry, your friend groups were rivals, and for some reason, life is playing some damn joke on you both. Now... you have to tell him the news - but how Satoru takes it surprises you. Can you both raise a baby together!? And do you even really know each other?

Contents/Warnings- gonna be flashbacks to the rivalry/that night, nerdjo but make him a fratboy, enemies to kind of begrudging partners, but then as the pregnancy progresses, they fall in love hehe (gojo is an idiot) - fluffy and smutty, MDNI -will have explicit sex etc- 4 parts (I THINK) in this chap- flashbacks of explicit sex with dirty talk, weed smoking (Satoru and his boys aha) mentions of sex, lots of humor, enemies to loversss- WC- this chap- 8k- art in the banner by Yuana on X

Comments and reblogs so appreciated if you enjoyy <3

Masterlist - Playlist- Chapter Two>>> (extras here)

Chapter One

It had been an absolutely filthy night, that led to your doctor coming in and informing you three months later-

'You're pregnant'

You came in for a normal checkup, you're on the pill and you have no sex life, aside from one encounter almost three months ago. A filthy, questionable ass encounter with what so happened to be your former 'bully' - rich boy, frat boy, pretty boy, pretentious boy- Satoru Gojo.

For years, the two of you were rivals, not just academic either, since you were both top of your class all through college, but at everything. He'd hold your notebooks high and laugh at you, he'd try to ruin and crash every sorority event he could. Known as the Queen and King of the campus, you ran the rivaling Sorority to his Fraternity. The amount of times you all had gone toe to toe was literally notorious, even your best friends hated each other on your behalf, starting an entire war between you all.

You have no clue how it happened, still, how the two of you had the best sex of your life at that damn party, fueled by drinks but also something you'd never admit- you've always wondered. Hearing those stories about his... skills, seeing his perfect body and the way his pretty lips smirked so cruelly in your direction, even after all these years- how it all led to this moment.

'Hah, sweets, ya finally admit I'm good at something?' Satoru had murmured in your ear, while he'd had you bent right over some bed at some party- both of you were seniors in college on your last and final party, finally you thought you'd be rid of him, of this ass of a man. He was going to live the rich life, working for his family, and you were moving on to a whole different career.

'One t-thing... that's it...' You had cried out when his cock had shoved in so deep, making you cum all over him, his fingers gripping your hips while he'd pumped deeper and deeper, impossibly until he'd been right on your cervix. 'F-fuck!'

'Fuck... you had a pussy like this and we've been fighting!?' Satoru is whispering, resting his snowy locks against your neck, biting it with sharp teeth as you milk his cock. 'So greedy, huh?'

'S-shut up, mnh- just... keep... there, there shit!' Satoru had slammed right against your cervix, feeling you pulsing around him, it had been too good, too tight, too fucking wet, he'd paused then, looking at your arched ass, your skirt shoved over your hips. 'Keep g-going, please...'

'M'gonna cum, tho-she's too tight- shit can I?'

Your drunk ass had said- sure. You're precise on that pill, every day your alarm goes off in the morning, you take it. How could...

"Pregnant!?" You repeat. Unbelievable. No fucking way. You...

"Yes sweetie I suggest prenatal and an ultrasound, hmm?" The nurse says so sweetly, as you feel sick to your stomach, which your hand goes down to touch.

Pregnant. With rich, notorious fuckboy Satoru Gojo’s baby- now you would have to tell him!?

Shit.

You take the results in a shaky hand, mind swirling as the doctor goes on and on, some crazy distant humming in your head, there’s no way, it can’t be. You’re literally starting your journalism career, thinking you’d maybe gained a few pounds from stress and ramen, the interning was absolutely brutal, you’re never regular on your periods, hence the birth control in the first place.

Running coffees here and there, grabbing this and that for everyone above you, but you were now officially hired, and you were making good money for once, finally able to pay down some of your pesky student loans and get a nice car. You worked hard for it, for everything, despite many thinking leading a sorority meant you came from money, you were a scholarship girl.

That’s a huge reason you and Satoru always clashed, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, easily acing every test that you busted your ass for, things came easy to him, you worked for it. Achieving the highest you could in your graduating class, the little shit that came to school hungover grinned right next to you, like a goddamn plague, and you hoped that finally he was gone for good.

What bonded two people like you now?

Well…

“Do you need to go over your options, hunny?” One of the nurses says, touching your shoulder with a gentle smile, you shake your head then, clearing your throat.

“I just need to… think.”

You’re pacing back and forth in your apartment, feet padding gently along the hardwood floor, cell phone in your hand, staring at the phone number that just got sent to you by Shoko. She was Satoru’s friend and yours, which was rare given the ongoing student warfare zone you all created. You’d texted her a simple- hey do you have Gojo’s number- not going into details.

How do you even tell him?

What do you say!?

You psych yourself up, finally dialing it, when he picks up the phone after the second ring, murmuring - “Hello.” God, even him answering what he assumes is a stranger is snarky.

“Um, hey.” Gojo pauses at the sound of your voice, faltering just for a moment, as his friends bounce a basketball around a court outside, he sits down on the bench, vivid images filling his head. “It’s-”

“Think I don’t know your annoying voice by heart, sweetheart?” You roll your eyes, sighing and plopping down on your couch.

“Yeah, well… I got your number from Shoko.”

“Need a second round? Should have guessed.” He’s gesturing to Suguru and Sukuna, who roll their eyes at him, and he puts his voice down an octave. “I could be convinced.”

“Jesus christ, Gojo.” You almost hang up, feeling your tummy tighten then, almost nauseous, realizing you had to talk to him. “Are you, I don’t know, um… free for lunch or anything?” You despise the words falling from your lips.

“Asking me on a date, huh? So bold, I like it.” Satoru winks now at his friend’s shocked expressions, muting for a moment, telling them it was you.

“No fucking way.” Sukuna says, Suguru snorts in laughter and Satoru just grins, unmuting you again.

“I guess I could be convinced.” He purrs out those words, chuckling. “Hmm, we could go to that nice place on Hollywood ave hmm? Perfect Sushi.”

Your tummy growls, but then you frown, remembering that Sushi is on your damn list not to eat, you curse internally, peering at this list of everything you should never do or consume, and it specifically says raw fish right there. “Do they have cooked Sushi there?”

“Pshh, you’re such a prissy ass, can’t eat raw huh? Didn’t mind it raw from what I remember.” You hate this man.

“You know what never-”

“Shit, I was just kidding.” He panics, thinking you hung up, hearing your irritated sigh then. “Yeah I think they do. Why do you even wanna hang out, ya wanna nag me in person?” He spins his basketball effortlessly on his finger, acting all calm, as if he wasn’t dying to be buried in your perfect pussy again. “Miss being bitchy to me so bad?”

God he wanted to have you on his face, have you sucking him, he wanted for so much more than you all got to do, drunken fingers and your muted cries as he’d had a big hand tight over your mouth. His cock twitches under his basketball shorts just remembering how slick and hot you were, god how you fucking felt gripping him so damn tight.

Satoru had felt you pulsing around him as he reached his arm around you, pressing his fingertips to your clit in circles, as you’re crying out against his palm, practically drooling against him. ‘There you go, cumming so easy f’me huh?’ he taunts, as his own eyes roll back, feeling your pussy drool against his hand.

‘Mnh!’ was all you managed to murmur against his hand, as he feels your gummy walls spasm around his cock, his blue eyes roll back at how perfect you feel, how long he’s dreamed of this.

‘F-finally got you to shut up, hmm?’ He taunts you, normally you’d have something smart to say, but not as he’s overstimulating your little clit, pulling it away as you damn near collapse on the mattress, your thighs shaking, he wants to kiss you so bad, but you’re burying your face, arching your ass.

‘F-fuck you, Gojo- ah!’

The memories are so vivid Satoru can barely calm his thoughts, hearing you say his name in that irritated little voice, the one that drove him insane from day fucking one, the moment he’d met you. Prissy little thing with so much to prove, he thinks you still feel that way, which the biggest secret Satoru had for you had almost spilled on that last drunken night, the night he was inside you was…

He's always wanted you, not that he'd ever admit that however.

Ever.

“Is like three okay?” You're interrupting his thoughts now, as he clears his throat.

“Three rounds?”

You’re scowling at the phone as you question your life’s choices at this very moment. “Three o'clock, my god, for lunch.”

“Sounds good, it gives us time later, to… you know.” You glare at the phone, unbelievable, he’s ridiculous!

“Time for what?” Satoru chuckles at your high pitched question.

“Don't be shy, sweets, no need to pretend. I remember it all in vivid detail, every little bit.” Your cheeks heat up, hand clutching the phone tightly, trying to calm yourself and focus.

“Just lunch, that’s all I’m asking you for. Sounds good?”

“Want me to pick you up in my-”

“No, I'll meet you. Okay um…. Bye.” You hang up, breath coming quickly, you couldn't just tell him on the damn phone, this needed to be in person.

The thought of his pretty yet annoying ass presence damn near makes your head spin… would he think it's all a joke? Some scam to get with him or get money?

You're fucking terrified, standing and staring in the mirror, rubbing your tummy and frowning as you do. A damn baby… Likely raising it alone, knowing Satoru all these years, partying, insane and so immature. Even on the phone, he’s so damn cocky and self sure, that this must absolutely be what you want, to have him, as if you are over here pining away.

The sex was amazing to put it lightly, and sure if he was a decent guy, and not a fucking ass of a man, you’d have done it again, but the walk of shame that morning had been the most embarrassing day of your life. His little smirk after you woke up, plump lips too damn glossy for his own good, yawning and stretching half naked, cock already hard as he’d tapped his lap.

‘Another round, sweets? Come to daddy.’

You scoff even at the memory, at the audacity of fuckboi Satoru Gojo, you had run out so quickly he hadn’t had a moment to speak, and you swore to yourself never, ever again. Who cared if his cock was so big it hit places you didn’t know existed, and who cared if you’ve never felt that way, fuck you wish he actually wasn’t as good at it as he was.

Perfect at everything, infuriatingly, even fucking.

You get a text from the guy you were currently at least flirting with a bit here and there, the one you suggested going on a date, and then it all starts to hit, you’re pregnant and quite likely going to be some single mom. You couldn’t just go on dates, everything is completely different, maybe forever truly.

“Twenty Two year old single mom.” You grumble, sighing a bit as you text him you’re busy.

Busy.

*****

Satoru waits nervously at the restaurant, he doesn’t really do dates, he usually spends his time in the bedroom with a girl then runs right off. Shit, he’s never even gone without a condom before you, but when you’d said hurry up and put it in, who the fuck was he to tell you no? Not only had it felt superb, he never wanted to leave that perfect pussy.

Of course you would have the most perfect pussy.

You had to be the best at everything, all the time, didn’t you? Always competing for that top spot, but Satoru always just barely got past you, that .01% of that GPA, winning every contest over you always by just a tiny bit. From the moment you glared up at him and crossed your arms, he knew it, he had to do everything he could to win against your cute little ass.

Here’s the thing… Satoru never hated you, but he loves to say he does, you both say you do, or… well, said. Considering you slept with him and didn’t say a single word after, it’s not like he’s hard to find, but each of you actively refused to add each other on socials, though Satoru will admit he stalks your IG, you’re too fucking pretty not to do so, not that he’d ever like a post.

Once he accidentally did, god he wanted to be like those pathetic simps in your comments, but he’s not that, he’s Satoru Gojo. Women come to him, women come easy too, you of course were never one to come near him in that way, no you’d look at him getting smacked in the face on campus with a grin, vowing to your friends that you’d never be one of his conquests.

That night, though, it was like he lost himself, the most stupid, corny shit Satoru could think of, that last night of his freedom before being forced to take over his family’s business. You and everyone probably thought he wanted to, but of course he fucking didn’t, he didn’t want a part of the Gojo corporation in any way, shape or form.

Satoru felt lost, honestly.

Self sure, confident, conceited clearly, talking far too much shit and laughing, picking on you every chance he got, showing up to all your sorority parties in various stages of undress to lure your friends to him. He’ll never forget him, Sukuna and Suguru crashing your ABC party, wearing nothing but cut open beer boxes, and you so happened to have some white claw box made bikini.

God you’d been sexy, but when he stole all the attention? Oh he’s never seen you more mad.

Well no, he has.

Gojo loved to make you mad, because you’re so damn cute when your nose scrunches up, when your pretty eyes narrow, there was nothing like your huffs as you would cross your arms and shift your hips just so. And if there was anything Gojo was absolutely perfect at, amongst well damn near everything, it was making you absolutely furious.

Finally Satoru sees you, dressed in this pretty blue summer dress that juts out just a bit at the waist, making his heart race for just a moment at how pretty you are. It’s not like he forgot… but god. Are your tits bigger he wonders, or is he just obsessed with them, as always, looking too hard. Your cheeks are this beautiful color, your eyes so bright, like… some damn glow about you.

How corny is he lately.

He puts on a smirk as he leans back, waving with his fingers to gesture you over, and you look at him so damn seriously, sitting across from him, hands entwined together in front of you on the table for a moment, as you eye him carefully. “Gojo, um… how are you?’

Who the fuck is this girl in your body!?

You don’t nervously ask shit, you tell Gojo to fuck off, you glare or scowl while he smirks, what’s this… shy ass shit? He frowns a bit now, you exhale and slide off your purse, letting it sit on the seat next to you, he can’t stop staring at your lips, clearly bitten to fucking hell.

He tries to feign that he’s fine, that he hasn’t missed you, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. He missed your daily arguments on campus, he missed you being a total brat. He misses your scent, god that vanilla sugar body spray was haunting his very dream.

He acts as if he hadn’t died to hit you up, but he stopped himself. He couldn’t go that far, not with you, not with what you did to him, how you’ve damn near destroyed any game for himself any longer. That one night with you had sunk into him so deeply, he wishes it was just good pussy, and not whatever this was.

He’s jerked it off to you every fucking night since, to the point is damn dick doesn’t even work, he sure also wouldn’t admit that he can’t even fuck a girl because you were so good. Some evil witch that did something, it must be, he has at this point just given up trying, until whatever curse you gave him falls the fuck off.

But god you look good in front of him.

He should tell you, but instead he swipes a hand through his silky white locks and smirks right at you. “Missed me so badly, sweets?”

You roll your pretty eyes as the menu comes, smiling and thanking the hostess, a smile reserved for anyone in the world but him, even when he’d had you cumming all over him, you weren’t smiling. No, but you were drooling then.

‘Ah, look at you, so fuckin pathetic f’me, huh? Thought you hated me, sorority brat’ Satoru had huffed, as he’d fingered your cunt, curling inside of your slick walls, watching your pretty fucked out face. ‘Just from fingers?’

‘I do h-hate you- mnh!’ Your sparkly manicured nails dug into his broad shoulders as your tight walls convulsed around him, as he hit that spot that no man had ever found in a moment.

Perfect at everything, stupid Satoru.

‘Feel her, god she’s so desperate, huh?’

“Fuck you I- there, shit!’ you’d rolled your hips, grinding right on his hand, pussy drooling as you came from his fingers before he’d even put his cock inside you, and Satoru’s cock was leaking against his boxers, twitching as he pictures how perfect you’d felt around him. ‘Fuck you for being so g-good at that!’

‘Oh, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.’ He’d turned you then, whispering a ‘bend over, just like that, gonna be a big stretch, hmm?’

Satoru struggles to calm his memory, focusing on that sexy mouth of yours moving, realizing words are coming out of them, blinking to focus.

“How are you doing, Gojo?” You ask softly, always Gojo, you never called him Satoru, and he always called you sweets, short stuff, your last name, also never your first.

But he wanted to call you a lot of things, one of them being-

Stop that Satoru.

“I’m doing great, of course, miss me so much?” He teases, winking at you and sipping on the sickeningly sweet Shirley temple he’d had them buy, you just grab a water, hand flitting to your tummy for a moment. “You’re not sick are you?”

“No, not sick just… yeah we needed to talk. Is that okay?”

Satoru leans forward, raising a thin white brow. “You seem weird, everything okay?”

“Well… shit. I guess I’ll just say this. Um…” You tuck your hair behind your ear, looking out the window at the bustling city for a moment, before looking back at him. “Remember that night?”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do all this to have a repeat.” His hand comes to your thigh, and that’s when you curse this pregnancy, because your nipples tighten, your cunt gets hot and wet from that.

Fuck hormones.

You take a breath, glaring as you always do at Satoru, the only time you never had was when he’s had your face with a slutty O for your mouth, your eyes rolled back, nails gripping those sheets. You shove his hand off, hoping he couldn’t feel your heat that quickly, as your body responds stupidly in a damn sushi restaurant.

“It’s not that, it’s important. Can you ever be serious in your life!?” You say quietly, and it’s his turn to glare, taking his hand back, sipping his drink again.

“Well just spit it out. What is all this, then?”

“It’s… I… You…” Shit, if ever you needed a drink it was now, and you damn sure wouldn’t have one for a good six months or more.

“It’s… I…. You…” He mocks, and you stand then, so furious your heart is racing, snatching up your purse.

“Never mind, I should have known you’re-”

“Shit, just sit. Sorry. Okay?” He grips your delicate wrist in his big hand, and even that is wrecking you, against your better judgement and everything you feel. “I’m sorry, it seems… serious. Just sit down and spit it out.”

You sit back down now, shifting as you both make your orders, a thankful distraction. As the waitress leaves, you sigh. “I don’t want anything from you, first off, so don’t think that.”

“What?” He blinks in confusion.

“I don’t need help, I can do it myself.”

“Do what!?”

“But you have to know… it’s the right thing to do, to tell you.” You look up at the ceiling, gathering your thoughts.

“Is this… are you in love with me, because of how good it was? Shit, that’s okay baby, everyone-”

“I’m pregnant.”

“What!?” You just sit there, seriously staring, as he blinks, looking at fuller breasts, your damn glow, thinking of every dumb thing he’s heard. “You’re… by who?” He whispers, and you flush then, shifting in your seat, sipping more of your water, condensation cool on your hot palm, your skin is burning, heart is racing.

“I was on the pill, religiously, I swear, I never missed one. Shit, until I found out I never missed… I… never would have done it like we did if I knew.” You feel sick as he gapes at you, his pretty blue eyes bulging out damn near, his mouth dropped open. “I expect no help, no involvement, we’re young. I just-”

“This a joke, right?” You take another breath, hand gripping the glass, eyeing those around you all, engulfed in conversations.

“It’s not a joke.” He’s laughing now, smacking his thigh, and your jaw tenses as he does.

“It’s you and your damn friends, someone recording!? Hah-”

“It’s not a joke.” You clear your throat now, leaning in your purse and pulling out the papers, with your name, the results, watching his expression shift, brows drawing low, his jaw tense. “It’s only been you, no one else for an entire year.”

“A whole year?” He eyes you again, and you flush under his gaze, as his hands shake, hands you’ve never seen shake, hands that dribble basketballs, that tossed footballs, all with ease.

Hands that…

Fuck, don’t think of it.

“I’m not… I was too busy.” Besting Gojo, competing with Gojo, you had no time for shit with him, your anger at him shone so brightly it was hard to think about men. “As I said, you don’t need to pay for anything, this isn’t that conversation, this is just me letting you know. I’m keeping it.”

Satoru continues to blink at you, staring open mouthed, at your face, then your body, then back to your face, over and over, while the waitress brings out the food, smiling curiously at the two of you. Satoru doesn’t make a move to touch his food, running his hand through his now messy white locks again, as his mind spins.

“I know you’re wealthy, I don’t want you thinking I want some piece of it. I’ll take care of them alone, please don’t worry.” You touch your tummy, the motion making Satoru fucking feral in some way he can’t put together, just continuing to stare at you in utter shock as the sushi sits in front of the two of you. “I can leave, now, we don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?” He murmurs finally, voice hoarse.

“Act like we are civil, act like we’re anything but college enemies, fucking rivals, not even friends. God I know you hate me, I know this was a mistake.”

“A mistake?” He whispers.

“Yes, for both of us. You don’t deserve your life uprooted, sure I can’t stand you, but this is my fuck up. I said those words…”

‘Cum in me, f-fucking cum in me, mnh…’ you’d arched your back, as his long fingers wrapped your throat, god he’d never felt anything like you.

‘Want me to fill your pussy s’good, huh lil brat?’ you just whine, muscles clenching on his cock, and he’d groaned in your ear then, shoving deep inside your drooly cunt. ‘Beg for it, then’

Oh, you had.

You hated him for it.

“It’s my fault, so don’t worry. But I wanted to be transparent, but I am… indeed, pregnant.”

“Pregnant, like, with a baby?” Satoru whispers, and You giggle then, for the first time since you found out, covering your mouth just a bit as he just stares.

“Yeah, a baby.”

“Mine…” His words send something through the both of you.

“Yours, but only if you want to be involved. I know it was a hate fuck, we’re young, we have lives-”

“You got a… like that scan shit set up?”

“Ultrasound?” He nods, nervously, hands clenching the table so hard you see the veins popping up through his thin skin. “I do, next week. I mean it is a couple months already, so I will see something, not like… the sex but…”

“Can I go?”

You blink in shock now. “You want to?”

“Yeah. I mean… why wouldn’t I?” He rubs the back of his neck, as the life he thought, the mundane one of following his damn family, of being a pawn in a bigger scheme, everything flashes.

It changes.

He’s scared shitless, but…

“I want to be involved. If you want me to be.” You blink back tears, but you fail, and if it’s one thing, Satoru Gojo has never seen his preppy ass Sorority rival cry, not fucking once.

He falters as those tears run down your cheeks, he leans over, hesitantly, the only physical contact aside from that fateful night was him shoving at you teasingly, or you smacking at him. Shit you all hadn’t hugged, you never even kissed aside from that night, sloppy and messy. But he doesn’t stop, until his thumb brushes your cheek, and you gasp.

“Shit I’m crying. Stupid hormones.” You huff now, swiping at your own eyes with shaky little hands. “You really wanna go?”

“Yeah if it’s cool?”

Satoru’s shocking you, the world tilts on its axis, like you’re having some insane dream. This can’t be real, can it? It’s fuckboi, frat boy Gojo, the man who goes through girls like they’re candy, the man who takes nothing serious, who has the world handed to him.

“Gojo, if you want to go of course you can, to any and all appointments, but you’re under no obligation, and please know I can cover the costs.”

“I know you’d never take my money, shit even if I offered, stubborn ass little brat that you are.” You manage a breathless giggle, the second one, realizing he is still brushing that thumb against your cheek, before he clears his throat. “So, tell me what day, I'll be there.”

“Yeah, are you sure? It will make it so… real, you know?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Now eat your cooked sushi, aren’t you like eating for two or some shit?”

You take your chopsticks with a shaky hand, exhaling. “I was reading, I think they are like the size of a pea maybe. But, this is yummy looking.”

“Gonna be a huge ass baby, shit.”

“Oh god!” You eye his lanky body, and he’s grinning, Satoru is grinning!? Shocking you further.

Maybe you don’t know him like you think?

“Tits are gonna get so big.”

Never mind.

*****

“An ultrasound!? A baby? Fuck…” Suguru Geto inhales the blunt, sucking the smoke into his lungs as Satoru nervously paces Sukuna and Suguru’s apartment, Satoru chose to live in his own place, closer to work. But he frequently gets shitfaced and crashes out at their place.

“Sounds fucking insane, shit.” Sukuna chuckles, as he’s hitting a bong, inhaling and exhaling, broad shoulders shaking as he coughs. “You look like you could use a hit or something.

“Before the ultrasound? Shit I need more than weed. I’m freaking the fuck out right now.”

“Imagine you as a dad though hah!” Sukuna smacks his thigh, as Satoru glares now, stopping his pacing while the music plays, the same music Satoru remembers doing keg stands and playing beer pong in togas to, only to now have the possibility of being responsible for a whole human being.

“Can’t even keep a plant alive, shit.” Suguru says in between laughs, and Satoru raises a white brow at the two of them on the couch.

“You two are so supportive.”

“Well shit, she said you don’t have to be involved, you can always just like… send money and shit? Do you really want a whole kid?” Sukuna asks, and Satoru takes a breath, pacing once more as he runs hands through disheveled hair over and over.

“Do I want a whole kid, no, I never even… I mean I figured eventually, as the Gojo heir, blah blah blah.” Satoru slumps in a nearby recliner, as Suguru hands him the blunt, frowning a bit now.

“You do need a hit. You’re young, it’s not time to give your family fuckin’ heirs yet, is it?”

“They’d probably be delighted.” Satoru rolls those cerulean eyes, inhaling the smoke into his lungs and leaning back, staring up at the ceiling, as the black fans above them swirl, moving the puffy clouds of smoke all around. His nostrils fill with the scent of the Sativa, wishing he could make sense of his thoughts. “Not delighted that it’s out of wedlock and unplanned.”

“Imagine her marrying you.” Sukuna and Suguru laugh loudly again, as Satoru hits the blunt again, not passing it.

“The fucks that mean?”

“She hates you. God I think more than anyone.” Suguru says, and Satoru smirks just a bit.

“She sure didn’t hate this dick.”

“Oh!” He’s slapping hands with his friends as Sukuna and Suguru start to make the most obscene gestures, while you call, and he shushes them quickly, trying to compose himself.

“Hello?”

“Gojo, hey. Um, ultrasound is in an hour, I’m heading out soon if you want to meet up?”

“Why don’t I have my driver pick you up?” He asks, and Suguru and Sukuna continue the gestures, making Satoru snort in laughter, the weed starting to enter his bloodstream.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just thought it would be more convenient in this traffic.” He shoots a wink at his friends.

“I mean… sure?” Satoru mouths yes, pumping his fist, clearing his throat now.

“It’ll be easier this way, alright send me your addy I’ll head out.”

“All right.” You just hang up, such a rude little thing. Satoru has changed your name to Sorority Brat in his phone for a good reason.

“What are you gonna do though, man?” Suguru murmurs thoughtfully, his dark violet eyes narrowed, clearly blitzed. “Gonna like… be with her?”

“Could cum in her whenever now.” Sukuna bursts out in laughter as Satoru glares at the two of them.

“Grow up…” They blink at him, then Satoru grins wide. “Nah, that would be a perk, because her pussy my god.”

They both scooch up, elbows on their thighs, avidly staring at Satoru now. “Details, man, it’s like the one girl you never told us about?” Sukuna asks.

“Because you’re in love.”

“Pshh, in love!?”

“Haven’t seen you with anyone since.” Suguru earns Satoru’s middle finger, as he puts out the blunt, stretching and earning their pouts.

“Bet she’s so good, though, all angry and shit, bet she’s a freak.” Satoru doesn’t even know if you’re a freak necessarily, but as Suguru agrees, he glares at them both, crossing his arms.

“This has been the worst pep talk in fucking history.”

“Shit, what’s your decision?” Suguru asks, and Satoru’s mind races, peeking at his watch now.

“I think I’ll make it when I like… see it?”

“Alright big Daddy, then if you decide to be involved we’ll be like… their uncles and shit.” Suguru says, and Satoru grimaces.

“God no, you’ll ruin my kid.”

“Fuck off now.” Sukuna starts hitting his blunt again, Satoru walks out away from them and spritzes cologne all along himself, he knows your prissy self never smoked weed, no you were a little goodie goodie. He thinks the only time he saw you drink was a little at parties, but never like that last night.

He remembers just looking at you asleep when he’d woken up, and the tenderness he felt when he had brushed your hair off your pretty face, and you’d stirred a bit. For a moment he felt his heart hammer in his chest, stone cold sober, seeing the bite marks he’d left on your delicate skin, feeling affection like he couldn’t describe, Satoru never felt that way.

He didn’t cuddle, he didn’t linger.

He ran out before they could wake up, he ran out like you did to him, perhaps he was a little nicer about it, though, you’d given no fucks when you darted out the damn door in a hurry. He had acted cocky though, full on hard just by the damn thought of your slick sticking to his cock, but instead of perhaps kissing you, he’d patted his lap and been a little shit.

He hated the recognition on your face, like he’d been a mistake, so he decided to shove you out of his brain, though he clearly failed.

Jogging down the stairs, he has his driver sent in your direction, and you get the text he’s there, stepping out in front of your little house, cute Satoru thinks, it’s small but it’s immaculate from the exterior. You have pink flowers and succulents all over the front of it when he steps out, eyeing your pretty dress, nerves starting to eat at him, but he puts on an easy smile.

“Ready to go see this little parasyte?’

“A what!?”

“Technically, it sort of is. Right, you’re like its host.” Your mouth is wide open, as you touch your tummy, and he curses. “Shit…”

“A parasyte, you’re calling our… I mean I guess my… the baby a-”

“I’m sure it’s a cute parasyte? It has a pretty host.” Satoru tries to put on the charm, the smolder, as you stare at him in shock.

Was it shocking, this was Gojo.

“Dear God.”

How’d you end up pregnant with this idiot’s baby?!

You slide into the car as you shake your head, and he covers his face, grimacing as he realizes he just told his… god what even were you, a baby mama!? That his baby was a… parasyte. Well, it is, and Satoru would typically just argue with you and let you know he’s correct and you’re wrong, but he keeps quiet, feeling you seething.

“Fire signs.” He mumbles, you look at him again.

“What?”

“You’re a fire sign, it’s why you’re so feisty. I am too, you know.” You relax just a bit, curiously.

“You believe in astrology?” You ask in shock, for as long as you’ve known Satoru Gojo, the two of you don’t really know each other.

“Baby I’m the most Saggitarius man there is.” You giggle again, fuck that’s three giggles Satgoru has counted, and how it lights up your already glowing makes him ache for you, suddenly realizing one of his long legs is brushing against you. Your warmth alone makes him throb, the vanilla sugar filling the space in the car.

“You certainly are the epitome of a Saggitarius. Don’t call me feisty, yuck.” You shove at him playfully almost, pausing a bit when you realize his body feels far too good against yours.

You may or may not have masturbated last night, and he may or may not have popped in your head, over and over. But, don’t worry, because Satoru has spent months jerking his thick length to the thought of you, not that either of you would admit that it may or may not have happened.

“This baby would be a fire sign.” You murmur then, letting your hand fall, and nervously fidgeting, Gojo’s long limbs take over so much of the car, as big as it is, Gojo’s always taken over everything, even apparently your senses.

“Would it?” He asks quietly, for once just a little serious it seems.

“Yeah, an Aries if it comes when it should.”

“So it’ll be a brat like you.”

“Psh, like you.” You roll your eyes, and the two of you fall into a bit of a silence, so much unspoken between you. “Do you know if…”

“That’s why I want to see. Make it real?”

You actually nod in understanding, surprising him then. “I get it.”

The ultrasound tech is rolling the wand over cold gel soon, as you’re embarrassingly propped up with your feet in stirrups, and Satoru stands to the side, glaring at the man who’s inserting this wand in you. He gets angry that he’s getting such a view, he doesn’t even think he saw you that much.

What he remembers…

Your pussy is very pretty.

You wince a bit as the doctor smiles up at you. “Tight muscles, huh?”

Satoru snorts in laughter, and you glare. “What!?”

“You are so tight.”

“Gojo!” You glare, and even the doctor laughs, also earning your scowl, which makes them both sober up.

“Sorry, Miss. Alright… relax, would you?” How do you relax as a doctor is shoving a wand in your coochie and your enemy, who got you pregnant somehow, is turning red holding in his lewd thoughts!? “Look at the screen.”

You and Satoru both look over now, your breath catches then, as does his, when the doctor begins to tap keys on the keyboard, and you hear it for the first time, this little… heartbeat. It’s a heartbeat.

“There it is, congratulations you two. About… ten weeks?” You’re enamored as you stare at the screen, and he moves the wand inside you. “Look there, that’s the little baby.”

Baby.

A baby.

It’s all real.

Satoru’s completely silent as tears fill your eyes, a myriad of emotions, some that you’re so connected already to a little peanut inside you, some that you don’t know how you’ll do this, some of your life. How will it alter, how will it go, what will people think… and what does the man next to you think? What will he do!?

But overwhelmingly as you feel yourself begin to cry, and the screen turns off, you feel warmth spread, touching your tummy in wonder, there’s a damn baby in your body. Your baby. Something you never considered or thought of, you figured much, much later in life, not now.

And you’d likely be…

Alone in this.

“I’ll go get a picture printed for you two.” The doctor smiles kindly, as you’re left alone, with a for once silent Satoru Gojo.

You hesitate to look at him, a stunned expression on his face as you sit up, closing your legs and biting your lower lip, he finally looks at you and exhales, seeing your tear streaked cheeks. A girl he never knew to cry or giggle has done both, and a man you never thought to be serious or quiet… was.

“Satoru um…”

“Satoru?” He asks quietly, and you flush.

“Sorry…”

“No, I don’t mind, just… crazy. This is crazy. There’s a whole life inside you!? And we made it?” You sigh, nodding then, and he shocks you as he leans down, as you’re sitting in the bed, coming so close to you, eyes swirling storms of emotions.

“You can back out now, it’s okay. I won’t put this on you, keeping it is an insane idea but… it feels right to me?” He tilts your chin up, leaning closer, to where you can taste the sweetness of his breath, as your heart pounds right in your chest. “But if you’re backing out, do it now, it will hurt… fuck it will hurt more if you get too involved, okay? Do it now.”

“I’m not backing out of shit.” You gasp, and he exhales, wiping your tears away. “We both did this. I’ll not live in some world knowing my baby is raised with no help of mine in any way, fuck that.”

“But you-”

“I get it, we… aren’t… together. But in this I will be.”

“Satoru, I think I may have a cardiac arrest before I get this baby out.” You sniffle and he smirks a bit.

“So unbelievable that I’d want to?”

“Yes. The Gojo I know…”

“You may not know me as well as you think. And maybe I don’t know you that much… aside from I agree about that tight-”

“I swear!” You shove at him, as he snorts in laughter, still a little shit, as they bring in two pictures, and Satoru takes one thoughtfully.

“That’s it, huh?” He tilts his head curiously. “Looks like me.”

“It looks like nothing yet, what?” You’re taking tissue and cleaning up a bit, as they give you privacy to pull back on your panties, but Satoru gives you no privacy, just looking. “You could turn?”

“Why, that’s one benefit you know.”

“What?”

“Could fuck any time, cum inside whenever.”

“Oh you wish.” You shove at his chest, and he’s grinning and wiggling his brows, grabbing your waist, pulling you against him.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”

“Shut it.” Yes.

“Sex is good for pregnancy.”

“You’re so full of shit! I can’t with you. Rizzing me up at a gyno?”

“Perfect place, see that doctor, he wants a piece.”

“You’re so dumb, I swear.” You look at the picture then, thumb brushing against the baby’s… maybe it’s a face?

“Are we gonna live together?”

“I mean… what?” You eye him in shock.

“When the baby’s here.”

“No, we don’t have to do all that, we live close. Can you imagine us living together, we’d kill each other.” He envisions it, the fights surely but… the sex, and seeing you in the morning?

“Or fuck. Alot.”

“That’s how this happened.” You mumble, and soon you’re back home, and trying to ignore your body’s insane responses while he stands on your porch, looking far too fucking sexy. “Thank you for being there.”

“You thanking me? the world is ending.”

“Hush. I appreciate this, you standing by me. You don’t have to.”

“I… want to. Um, what will we say?”

You bite your lip more, until he gently takes it out from under your top row of teeth, brushing against the indentations. “We could say we’re together, if you don’t mind, dating I guess? My parents would trip if they knew it’s like…”

“Same. My parents would be happy for a Gojo heir though.” You hear it, the surprising resentment in his voice.

There’s a lot you don’t know.

“Well, I can act like I like you for them if you want.” You tease, and he leans against your doorway, so fucking tall, just looming over you, and you have to clench your hands not to give in to the temptation of touching him.

“Act like you like me- you?”

“I could! If you could act like you like me, in front of my family.”

“How will we explain the whole not living together thing?”

“It’s new, it’s 2025 Gojo, not 1810. We’ll be okay. You're so old school huh, gonna marry me?”

“You’d leave me at the altar.” You both laugh again, as he straightens up now. “Alright, so when should we tell them?”

“When you want to. So work on those acting skills. I’ll set up brunch with mine, you set up dinner with yours?”

“Sounds good. Alright don’t miss Daddy too much.” You snort and roll your eyes, turning away now.

“Daddy? Whatever.”

Satoru presses you against the door, wrapping an arm around your waist, pressing a hand gently on your tummy, splaying the expanse of it with long fingers, as your breath comes quicker and quicker. “Could swear you called me daddy when I beat up that pretty pussy hmm?”

You falter, whining softly, hating your body’s reaction, scowling right up at him, your hand on your doorknob, while this tall ass of a man makes your body light up. “Never called you daddy, no way.” Your voice is a pathetic whisper, why does he do this to you, you want to arch into his damn touch, press against his length, to the point you make yourself stiffen.

“Oh? Must have been the liquor.” He caresses your face, leaning so close you wildly think he’ll kiss you, and you know damn well you can’t handle that, not with your pussy soaking your damn panties just from this.

You hate Satoru Gojo, and he hates you.

This is… because you both are having a baby.

Right?

“It must have been.”

“Ah, I see. Good night, then sweetheart.” He leans his lips up, kissing the top of your head, a gesture so oddly sweet it doesn’t even fit him. “Text me the details, Sorority brat.”

“Sure will, Frat boy.” He sticks his tongue out as you do, walking in and leaning against the door, overwhelmed by the scent of his cologne, the feel of his hands, the memories that surfaced. You slide down it slowly, burying your face in your hands, as your body trembles with this insane need.

Shit. A baby with your enemy?

A baby with Frat Boy Gojo?

Faking that you like him, would it really be that fake?

Satoru’s leaning against it too, for just a moment, trying to compose himself… finally he’s in the back of the car again, as his driver looks in the rearview mirror curiously, tired eyes focusing as Satoru looks at the picture again. The little peanut that’s apparently a…

A baby.

With his enemy.

An enemy he really wants to be inside again.

“Everything alright, Mr. Gojo?” Kiyotaka asks, Satoru runs a hand through his hair now, leaning back in his seat as he peers out the dark tinted windows.

“I’m having… a baby with a girl who hates me.”

“Why does she hate you?” Kiyotaka asks, driving off, as Satoru chuckles just a bit, remembering bits and pieces of college, out of order, out of sync.

“Because honestly, I was kind of a complete dick to her?”

“That’s… oddly self observant.”

“You saying I’m a dick to you?”

“No Mr. Gojo!”

“I’m kidding, relax.” Kiyotaka’s tense shoulders relax when Satoru leans forward, hand on his shoulder through the little divider that’s opened. “Do you know shit about kids at all?”

“I have nephews, they’re pretty good kids. But babies, not really.”

“I could ask my parents but they basically had nannies raise me.”

“Many nannies, I heard.”

“Well, I was a menace to be honest. Where do I learn about these… things?”

“Babies?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I think there are books?”

“Hmm.” Satoru pulls out his phone then.

Fratboy Gojo🙄(yes that’s his name in your phone now, no you’re not sorry): Should I order us baby books?

Sorority Brat💦😻(of course that’s your name in his phone): Yes, if you want to? That would be good. Thank you… for today.

Fratboy Gojo🙄: Two thank yous!? That baby is making you a mush.

Sorority Brat💦😻: Whatever!

Satoru snorts then, but when you’re in your bed later that night, nibbling on a bag of hot cheetos that have been screaming at you all day, how is that your first craving!? He writes to you again, and you pick your phone up with your clean hand, sans hot cheeto dust, rolling your eyes.

Fratboy Gojo🙄: Need some nudes for your spank bank?

You’re gonna kill him.

Sorority Brat 💦😻: Good night, Gojo.

Satoru frowns, because his dick is already in his hand, but for a moment you think about it, and would it be so bad to-

No, no no.

You aggressively eat those hot cheetos, wondering just what you were in for with that damn boy in your life now, shit forever.

“Fuck.” You’ll never drink again.

I say four parts but I feel like this is gonna be long aha, bc god Gojo is a lil shithead hehe (as I like him) this just a teensy bit similar to the Knocked Up movie premise so expect a LOT of humor here! <3

Taglist one- @jannythewriter-pt2 @gojosoups @lycoris-radiata-4-sale @cutiepi-iee @poisonousspiderlily @closerbutnevertogether @myahfig4 @shokosbunny @coq1myun @rinny27 @abibliolife @coq1myun @megumisthirdog @p4lli @turtlebangtan @webshooterrr9 @aldebrana @msqudo18 @s0ulsnatchaaa @ovela @midnaamethyste @nearlyfuckingwitches @shibataimu @msniks @missthatgirl @fantasy1nightmare0 @maddyhehehehhe @yourst3pm0mmy @haithamsbb @rentheannihilator @ilovebeansyay @lemonswirlz @dilfkentolover @evelynxxo @bkgnotsuma @suki91 @burntasian @nakiich @hyunjinsruinedpainting @miniv1x3n @minascasket @ihrtmack @contaminatedcupcake @girlwithn0j0b @tokyi999 @vamqyx @queenofthekill @verriees @vullzo @jkslaugh97

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chrollohearttags · 1 month ago

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free use with roommate!eren

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📝: black!fem reader, free use, noncon, dub-con, fourth wall break (you’ll see lmao), sonmophilia, squirting, heavy breeding +pregnancy mentions, degradation, calls reader bitch and slut, mentions of anal, slight aftercare

wc: 1.9K

if y’all want me to continue this, lmk. It may become a series.

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roommate!eren truly was, by all definitions, your best friend. practically attached at the hip and always hanging out..the two of you first crossed paths when he placed an ad online, looking for someone to split the rent with and upon meeting you, the choice was easy. roommate!eren, who worked in IT and mostly remote, spent most of his time in the space you two shared so it was always spotless when you got home. You’d often find him standing over the stove, making something delicious so that you never had to worry about going to some shitty fast food place…honestly feeling more like a boyfriend with how spoiled he had you. “How was your day, gorgeous? Here, come talk to me, I want to hear all about it.” even allowing you to rest your sore feet on his lap as he massaged them. it never really dawned on you at first but as time went on, roommate!eren slowly became much more than that. It began with sweet gestures such as cooking for you or doing your laundry, even going as far as telling you not to worry about your share of the rent for a couple months because he wanted you to ‘do something nice for yourself’. “Eren, that is not what we agreed upon. I cannot let you pay the rent by yourself, that’s not fair at all.” “I already told you, it’s fine. Consider it an early birthday gift or something.”

but roommate!eren was reaping his rewards in more ways than one…one night as you lie sleeping on the couch, flat on your stomach and exhausted from a long day, you’d be awoken to the tender touch of warm hands caressing the backs of your thighs. Eventually, you’d feel those fingertips creeping up to the center where your panties were peeking out from underneath your work skirt. You’d feel a gentle rub before hearing the sound of sucking teeth and a moan accompanying it. “You’re so wet, baby..fuck. And all for me..” you were halfway conscious but you were aware of what was going on..yet, all you could do is lie there and allow those digits to massage your aching slit. Shutting your eyes, you’d feel the cool air hit your warmth when he peeled them back and shoved one inside..working you over whilst you slept.

“So fucking tight, princess..but I know you can take all of this dick. You’re going to make me fit..” the words barely above a whisper but you heard every last one. Every rambling coming from that familiar voice behind you only grew more lewd as those fingertips went deeper and sped up. Talking about how he wanted to fill you with his cum and watch it drip out as you lie there..how full and cute you’d look if you were pregnant. From how he wished to see you awake just so he could fuck you back unconscious. The sounds of your dripping hole being played with was about to drive him insane and eventually…neither of you could take it!

“I need to fuck you..need to feel this wet lil’ pussy on me so bad, baby.” Almost desperate in a way. Seconds later, (y/n) felt the aching head of a cock throbbing against your entrance; running up and down your clit before very carefully slipping in. “Oh shiiit..you feel even better than I expected, baby. Why’d you keep it from me for so long?” That deep yet whiny voice and thick cock belonged to none other than roommate!eren! Who had mounted you right there in the living room, fucking you prome into the couch. With a hand planted in the center of your back, he’d continue feeding you deep strokes, alternating between fast and slow, hard and gentle..all the while watching the recoil of your backside against his pelvis.

“Look at this fat ass..bouncing on my fucking dick. Oh God, it’s so perfect. I can’t wait to use it too..maybe I’ll slip a plug in you next time.” Those words elicited a much deserved twitch around his shaft and no longer could you pretend. “You really got tight when I said that shit. I knew you were a freak but damn, baby..” chuckling to himself. You’d slowly raise your head with a slight yawn and moan..before turning around and faintly glaring at him. “Erennn..what the fuck—“ “Hey gorgeous, about time you stopped pretending. Enjoy your nap?”

because deep down, roommate!eren knew the truth about you..and all of the dirty, filthy and dark secrets you were keeping. Including the twitter page and blog where you anonymously posted all about him and the depraved things you wanted him to do. Saying things like ‘my roommate is so fucking fine. Just want this man to use me.’ ‘He cooked for me again today, rubbed my feet and ran my bath before I got home..I’m ready to have this man’s baby.’ ‘Saw him coming back up from the gym this morning before I left and had to get myself off when I got to work’ ‘I rub my pussy every night thinking about him. Wishing he’d come in here and pound me.’ Even calling him daddy. It was entirely different from the bashful, nerdy office worker that he knew!

but it was one..or several that stood out to him the most. A series that inspired this whole little exchange..the ones where you were begging for him to use you anytime he wanted! You didn’t care if you were asleep, awake, tired or alert..you wanted him to have full possession of your body. ‘forced to work, born to be his little free use toy that gets dumped with cum whenever he feels like it and twice on his bad days :(’ ‘I just want to lie on the couch one night, pretending to be sleep as he fucks me..’ ‘I love watching him work at his desk. He’s so cute with his glasses on and his hair tied back. I want to sit on his lap and let his dick stay inside of me the entire time.’ ‘he’s worked so hard today, he deserves my throat as a reward.’ There was so much evidence and roommate!eren heard your virtual cries loud and clear.

“Aww, baby. It’s okay. If this was what you wanted, all you had to do was ask. You know I’ll give you the world.” Flashing a toothy grin as he pinned your arms behind your back..beads of sweat and strands of hair plastered to his forehead as he continued pounding you into the cushions. “All this time and you’re still so shy around me…but damn, do I love my job. You can find out all sorts of things. Like that my beautiful roommate wants me to use her like a little slut..” leaning down to utter the last sentence in your ear before feeding a sharp slap to the ass. Alluding to the fact he could easily access your socials and anything else he wanted with his extensive skill set.

unbeknownst to you, he felt the same..often finding himself at his desk, stroking his cock to the thought of you; how hot you looked in all your tight office attire, how pretty you looked wrapping your hair up in that bonnet at night with a bare face and how the sunlight hit your skin on a summer day, and the sway of your ass in that dress that clings to your curvy frame just right…finding himself choking his shaft between the clutches of his knuckles as he imagined it was that warm cunt squeezing him. Even going as far as to place a pair of your panties around himself and jerk until he exploded onto the seat of them. But it was a fairy tale no more..he was making all of yours..and his sick fantasies come true!

“That’s right, bitch. Moan for me..let me know how good I’m fucking you. C’mon..louder.” Reaching around to grasp your throat, he’d tug your head up so that he could make eye contact as he drilled your insides.

“Ughh! Fuuuck—please, use me. Make me come.” Those pleas sound awfully desperate and pathetic. Even so, roommate!eren craved more. He wanted to tap into the most depraved parts of you and bring them to the surface. “That’s more like it. No more of that innocent shit with me. From now on, you’re my slut to use..just my hole. I don’t give a fuck if you’re sleeping, too tired..I’m gonna nut in this pussy.. whenever I feel like it because you begged for it.” Continuously rambling on as those smacking sounds and guttural moans of his grew louder. “Y-yes daddy. All yours..your fucking whore.” At one point, he was almost animalistic..a sign that he was extremely close. You lacked the restraint for that however. Gripping the cushions in front of you whilst streams of your juices leaked underneath you. “That’s it. Squirt on that dick, bitch. How'd you know that’s my favorite?” Tears pooling down your face when you felt him slip a thumb into your puckering asshole. Just to make matters worse, that same hand gripping your throat would soon fish hook into your jaw and pull it open.

“Look at you..all mine. Got me playing in all your pretty holes. Tell you what..since you’ve been such a good girl, I’ll let you choose where you get my cum. Sounds good?” And it was a no brainer if you’d ever heard one. You couldn’t get it out fast enough that you wanted him to fill your pussy to the brim. “Aw, you really do want my babies..sure thing, princess—“ in one final move, roommate!eren pinned you to the sofa; a clump of your newly done hair in his hand as that orgasm ripped through his body..surging out in the form of hot, cream colored ropes of seed spilling into your womb. You were both left a shaking, disgusting mess. Wet and drenched in each other’s bodily fluids. He couldn’t help but to reward you for a job well done with a sloppy kiss so he’d shove that tongue deep between your jaws and moan as your lips locked. Reveling in the fucked out glow on your face.

“There’s my baby..hey, are you alright? How are you feeling?” Swiping your tears of pure bliss away with his thumb. “I’m..the happiest I’ve ever been.” And that was a given. Once the two of you came down from those climatic highs, he’d withdraw..dragging a trail of his cum along with him as he watched it pulsate out.

“I’m glad to hear that. Why don’t we get cleaned up and order some food. We have a lot to talk about, don’t you think?” Referring to the fact that this new agreement was going to require much consent and guidelines. Either way, both of you were excited for this new dynamic and looked forward to this relationship. You’d spent years fantasizing about all of these things. Documenting them on an anonymous page, too afraid that the real you would run a man away. But roommate!eren was the one you’d been searching for and he wasn’t going to let you down!

@hoohoohope @dancingwithdeities @violetxxvenom @nova2kss @friendlyneighborsslvt @acidrotzikr @shamelesshoefairy @soleilsfilm @vmpireslut @cc1306

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requiemforthepoets · 2 months ago

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the story we won’t tell is my greatest fantasy ⟢ LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: seven years. you and lando had been together for seven years, but it all went down the drain the moment he decided to come clean about the mistake that he did.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, breakup, cheating, cheater lando, pregnancy, secret child, mentions of nausea and vomiting, fainting, angst, open ending, math is not mathing (but i tried), some inaccuracies, named side characters (except for the reader), single!mom reader, and minor typographical errors

WORD COUNT: 7.2k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this fic is inspired by niki’s song ‘apartment we won’t share,’ ik that we have diff interpretations for the songs, but i interpret it as the way how i wrote this fic. i’m not planning on doing a second part of this, and just leave it an open ending. but if someday i get inspired, i’ll try and make a part 2 for this, though for now, there will be no part 2 for this fic. i will be leaving the ending all up to you. you comments/reblogs is highly appreciated, and i hope that you’ll enjoy this one.

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It had been a long and exhausting week. The lingering ache from your family emergency still tugged at your heart, so to keep off your mind from things, you had spent most of the day sorting through Lando’s things, folding clothes and making sure his suitcase was ready for his flight to another race weekend. It was the kind of task you had done so many times in the last seven years, but this time, it felt heavier, like there was something wrong that you couldn’t quite place.

When Lando returned to Monaco a few days later, you expected him to be his usual vibrant self, but something was off with him. Lando’s eyes seemed heavier, his posture slouched, and smile lacked the spark that you were used to.

“Hey, can we talk for a second?” he asked, voice unusually subdued.

You set down the shirt you had been folding, brows furrowing. “Sure, of course,” you replied, taking a seat on the couch. “What’s on your mind?”

Lando hesitated, hands fidgeting with the edge of his hoodie. He sat across from you, knees bouncing slightly as he stared at the floor. “You know I love you, right? More than anything.”

A faint smile crossed your lips. “I know, Lan, and you made sure to let me know everyday for seven years.”

He looked up briefly, gaze fleeting before dropping back to the floor. “I need to tell you something, I wanted to be completely honest with you…and it’s probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Lando’s tone, demeanor—it was all wrong, and you were getting really nervous by now. “What is it?” you asked, voice quiet, wary.

Lando took a deep breath, his hands now gripping his knees as if to ground himself. “When I was out for a night with the guys a month ago…I messed up.”

Your stomach churned. You didn’t want to interrupt him, waiting for Lando to continue, though every fiber of your being wanted to scream at him, to demand some answers.

“There was…someone at the club that night,” he said, words slow and measured, like he was forcing them out of him. “It was stupid, an honest mistake. I was so drunk, caught up in everything, and I wasn’t thinking.”

You felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. “W-What are you saying?” you managed, voice barely above a whisper.

Lando finally looked at you, eyes glistening. “I accidentally slept with her. It was a one-time thing, I swear, then she called me last week—I don’t even know how she got my number, but she told me that she’s pregnant.

Pregnant.

The words hit you like a freight train. You stared at him, mind completely blank, unable to process what he had just said. Tears began to blur your vision, but you didn’t wipe them away.

“Lando…” you tried to speak up, but your voice cracked.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” he said, voice shaking. “I didn’t know what to do. All I could think about was how much I’ve hurt you. But I can’t let my kid grow up without a family. I know how much family means to you, to me. I have to be there for them.”

Your heart shattered into pieces. You could see how much Lando was struggling, the guilt etched into every line of his face. But the pain of his betrayal was unbearable.

“I don’t…I don’t have anything to say anymore, honestly,” you said finally, voice trembling. “Because you had already made your decision—you’re choosing them.”

Lando shook his head vehemently. “No! No, I’m not choosing anyone over you. You’re the love of my life. That hasn’t changed and never will.”

“Lando, you can’t have both,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t stay here knowing all of these. I can’t be a part of this.”

He reached out as if to touch you, but you recoiled. You couldn’t bear his touch right now. “Please love,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I love you. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

“You already have,” you said softly, standing up and wiping your tears. “I won’t hold you back, Lando. You need to do what’s right for your child. They deserve a family, and I will not be the reason why they don’t have one.”

You walked to your shared bedroom, your movements mechanical as you began packing your things. Every item you placed in your suitcase felt like a dagger to your chest. This apartment had been your home, your safe haven, and now it was just a place you needed to escape from. Lando just stood in the doorway, watching you pack all of your things, his face pale and tear-streaked. He didn’t try to stop you—he knew that he couldn’t.

When you zipped up your suitcase and grabbed your bag, you turned to him one last time. “Take care of both of them,” you said, voice barely audible. “Be the father they need.

With that, you walked out of the apartment, out of the life you and Lando had built together. You had loved him for seven years, trusted him with every piece of your heart. But now, all you had was the emptiness of what could have been.

The crisp night air bit at your skin as you stood by the entrance of the apartment building, clutching the handle of your suitcase. Your ride to the airport was just a few minutes away, but the wait felt eternal. You stared blankly at the sidewalk, mind is a chaotic mess, the weight of everything that had happened tonight pressing heavily on your chest.

You heard familiar voices approaching before you saw them, their cheerful tones instantly recognizable. Quickly, you wiped at your cheeks, hoping your red-rimmed eyes wouldn’t give you away. Plastering on a smile, you turned towards Max and Kelly as they walked towards the entrance, hand in hand, their expressions bright despite the late hour.

“Hey! What are you doing out here so late?” Kelly asked, brows knitting in concern as she noticed the two large suitcases beside you.

You hesitated, forcing your smile to stay in place. “I, uh, have a family emergency,” you lied smoothly, voice steady even though your heart was pounding. “I need to head back home for a bit.”

Max tilted his head slightly, sharp blue eyes scanning you with the protective gaze you had come to know so well over the years. “Two large suitcases for just a quick trip? That seems a bit much,” he remarked lightly, though his tone carried a hint of suspicion.

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “It’s just…really complicated right now. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, so I packed extra, just in case.”

Kelly’s hand tightened on Max’s arm as she stepped closer to you, her concern evident. “Is Lando not home right now? Why didn’t you tell us earlier? We could’ve helped you pack, we can drive you to the airport.”

You shook your head quickly. “Lan’s already sleeping and I hate to wake him up, he just recently got back from his trip. I also didn’t want to bother you, I’ve already called a car, and it should be here any minute.”

They exchanged a look, clearly unconvinced but respectful enough not to press you further. “Well, we’re not leaving you out here alone,” Max said firmly. “We’ll wait with you until your ride gets here.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the determined set of his jaw told you it would all be just pointless. Instead, you nodded, grateful for their presence even as it made it harder to hold yourself together.

Kelly gave you a warm smile, trying to ease the tension. “It’s late, but P was asking about you earlier,” she said softly. “She’s been begging to have another day with her favorite Auntie.”

Your heart clenched at the mention of Penelope, and you forced your smile to widen. “I’ll miss her so much,” you said, voice thick despite your best efforts. “Tell her I’ll see her soon.”

Kelly’s brow furrowed slightly at your words, but before she could say anything, your ride had pulled up to the curb. Relief and dread washed over you in equal measure. Max then stepped forward immediately, grabbing your suitcases with ease.

“I’ll load these up for you,” he said, tone gruff but kind.

“Thank you,” you murmured, watching as he placed your suitcases in the trunk of the car.

When Max turned back, Kelly pulled you into a tight hug, her familiar perfume bringing a rush of bittersweet comfort. “Take care of yourself, okay?” she whispered. “Whatever’s going on, we’re here for you.”

You nodded against her shoulder, your throat too tight to respond. When she pulled away, Max had stepped forward, wrapping you in a hug that was strong and protective, just like he always was.

“Be back soon, okay? P will be missing her favorite Aunt.” he said, chuckling. “If you need anything, you call me or Kelly. No excuses.”

“I will,” you promised, though you knew that you wouldn’t.

As you stepped back, Kelly offered you a gentle smile. “When you get back, P will be so excited to see you again. You know how much she loves spending time with you.”

The lump in your throat grew, and you could only nod in response. You managed a faint smile as you climbed into the car, giving them one final wave.

“Safe travels,” Kelly called out as Max closed the door for you.

You watched them through the window, standing together on the curb, their figures illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. They waved as the car pulled away, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wave back again. Instead, you turned your gaze forward, the city lights blurring through the tears that silently slid down your cheeks.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.

When you finally arrived back home, the weight of the long hour of flight clung to you like a heavy fog. You dragged your suitcases through the familiar front door, exhaustion etched into every inch of your body. The warm, welcoming scent of your childhood home did little to comfort you, instead, it only amplified the ache in your chest. All you wanted was to collapse into your bed and wake up to a world where none of this had ever happened—a world where your heart wasn’t shattered into pieces. But this was your reality, as cruel as it was.

You definitely hadn’t anticipated seeing your older sister, Noelle, and her husband, Mike, in the living room, seated across from your mother, their laughter filling the space. The sound abruptly stopped when they noticed you standing in the doorway, your pale face and tired eyes a huge giveaway of the turmoil you tried so desperately to hide.

“What are you doing here?” Noelle asked, rising from her seatc brows knitting together in concern. “You didn’t tell us that you were coming home.”

Noelle’s brows knit together as she took in your disheveled appearance, her sharp eyes catching every detail—dark circles under your eyes, stiffness in your movements, and the forced smile you mustered.

“Yeah,” you replied quietly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I, uh, needed to come home for a bit.”

Your mother rose from her seat as well, concern etched into her features. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” she asked softly, gaze darting between you and the suitcases you had left by the door.

You hesitated, throat tightening. You had been dreading this moment, knowing full well how much your family adored Lando so much. They had welcomed him with open arms from the start, treating him as one of their own. Now, you were about to break their hearts almost as much as he had broken yours.

“It’s nothing,” you said, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I just needed a change of scenery, that’s all.”

Noelle stood, arms crossed as she gave you a pointed look. “Don’t give me that kind of excuse. You don’t just show up unannounced looking like this for no reason. What really happened?”

You swallowed hard, avoiding Noelle’s gaze. “Lando and I broke up,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

The whole room fell silent, the weight of your words sinking in. Your mother’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide with shock. “Oh, my darling sweetheart,” she breathed.

Noelle, however, was not so subdued. “What?” she exclaimed, voice rising. “What do you mean you broke up? What happened? Did he do something stupid?”

“No!” you said quickly, shaking your head. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like?” she pressed, tone sharp.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay composed. “We just…fell out of love. The both of us,” you said, hating the words even as you said then. “We’ve been together for so long, and I guess we just realized that we weren’t the same people years ago anymore. It didn’t make sense to keep on pretending, we’ll just end up hurting ourselves in the long run.”

Noelle’s eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced. “That doesn’t sound like Lando at all. The man adores you so much, even worships the ground you walk on.”

“He did,” you said softly, chest tightening. “And I adored him too. But people change, feelings change.”

Your mother stepped closer, her hands reaching for yours. “Are you sure this is what you wanted?” she asked gently.

You nodded, the lump in your throat growing. “It’s for the best,” you lied, voice cracking slightly.

Mike, who had been silent until now, placed a hand on Noelle’s shoulder. “If this is what she’s decided, we should respect it,” he said quietly, giving you a small, understanding nod.

Noelle just sighed, clearly torn between pressing you for further information and letting it go. Finally, she relented, though her expression was still skeptical.

“I just don’t want you to regret this,” she said, voice more softer now. “You two were so good together.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep you from breaking down. “I’ll be okay, eventually,” you said, words hollow.

Your mother pulled you into a tight embrace, her warmth briefly soothing the ache in your chest. “Whatever happens, we’re always here for you,” she murmured.

“Thanks, mommy,” you whispered, blinking back tears.

As you pulled away, your sister gave you a long look, her expression unreadable. “If he hurt you—” she started, but you cut her off.

“He didn’t,” you said firmly, voice steady despite the storm inside you. “It just didn’t work out. That’s all.”

Noelle still didn’t look convinced, but she nodded, clearly sensing that there’s more to it, and you didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Alright,” she said quietly. “But if you ever want to talk, I’m here, okay? We’re all here.”

You gave her a small smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes like it used to. “Thank you,” you said, words barely audible.

Excusing yourself, you retreated to your old bedroom, closing the door behind you gently and sinking onto the comfort of your bed. The familiar surroundings brought no comfort, only a stark reminder of the life you had left behind. While you lay down, staring at the ceiling, the tears finally came, silent and unrelenting.

You had still protected Lando from your family’s anger, even though he did not deserve any of it, and now, you were left to pick up the pieces alone.

The Nausea hits you like clockwork every morning. You found yourself rushing to the bathroom, stomach twisting in protest against seemingly nothing. It had started a few weeks ago, and though you had initially dismissed it as a lingering flu or perhaps the stress with work finally catching up to you, it was becoming harder to ignore. Rest didn’t seem to help you, but you assured yourself that it wasn’t that serious. Besides, you have work to focus on, and that was enough to keep your mind occupied, most of the time.

Two months had already passed since you had left Monaco for good, and life had begun to settle into a new rhythm. Yes, the ache in your chest was still there, but it had been dulled into something manageable. You were slowly rebuilding yourself, piece by piece, though the nausea was an unwelcome distraction.

It was a normal afternoon, while you were curled up on the beanbag chair in your bedroom after a long and tiring day, your phone buzzed. The caller ID that was displayed on the screen made your breath catch for a moment—Kelly. You hesitated before answering, already bracing yourself for the conversation. Her face appeared on the screen, bright and concerned.

“Finally, I caught you!” she said with a smile, though her tone was tinged with worry. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

You shook your head, chuckling and offered her a small smile. “I’m so sorry, Kelly. Things have been so busy with me lately.”

Kelly’s brow furrowed slightly as she studied your face. “You look tired. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, it’s just a silly flu,” you said quickly, but the faint edge in your voice didn’t go unnoticed.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said gently. “Max and I found out about it already, about you and Lando.”

Your chest tightened, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “Oh.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked, expression softening. “We would’ve been there for you. You’ve been through this all alone.”

You sighed, your shoulders sagging. “I didn’t want to drag anyone else into the mess, and I didn’t even know what to say.”

Kelly’s voice grew firmer. “You didn’t have to say anything, we would’ve understood. Max is furious with Lando, you know. So is Carlos. I even have to break the two of them away from Lando.”

Your heart sank at the thought. “Please don’t be mad at him. It’s not worth it.”

Kelly shook her head, lips pressing into a thin line. “It is worth it. What Lando did to you was unforgivable. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured, though the words felt hollow. “I’ll move on, eventually.”

Kelly’s expression softened again, and she leaned closer to the camera. “I just wish you’d let us help you. You know we love you, right? You’ve always been family to us.”

“I know,” you whispered, tears pricking at your eyes.

Her face brightened slightly. “But speaking of family, someone’s been dying to talk to you!”

Before you could respond, the screen shifted, and Penelope’s little face appeared, her eyes lighting up when she saw you. “AUNTIE!” she exclaimed, voice high with excitement.

”Hi, P!” You said, heart aching at the sight of her.

“I miss you so much!” she said, pouting slightly. “When are you coming back? Mommy says you’re not in Monaco anymore.”

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain. “I miss you too, darling. I just…I had to be somewhere else for a while.”

“But you’ll come back, right?” she asked, her big eyes staring at you expectantly.

You swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “We’ll see, P. For now, you have to be good for your mommy and Maxie, okay?”

“I’m always good!” she declared, puffing out her chest.

Kelly’s voice chimed in from the background. “That’s debatable,” she teased, earning a giggle from Penelope.

You couldn’t help but smile, even as your chest tightened. “You’re the best, P. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Okay!” she said brightly before turning to Kelly. “Mommy, can we call Auntie again tomorrow?”

Kelly returned to the screen, giving you a knowing look. “We’ll let her rest for now, P. But yes, we’ll call Auntie again soon.”

“Promise?” Penelope asked, her eyes wide.

“Promise,” Kelly said, smiling before turning back to you. “Take care of yourself, okay? And if you need anything, anything, just call me.”

You nodded. “Thank you so much, Kelly. I will.”

After ending your facetime call with Kelly, you stumbled into the bathroom, your stomach churning violently. The moment you stepped inside, you collapsed in front of the toilet, heaving uncontrollably. It felt as though your insides were twisting, every muscle tensing in protest. When it finally subsided, you shakily wiped your mouth, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You looked pale—paler than usual, and eyes were bloodshot from the strain.

It took you a couple of minutes to compose yourself before heading to the kitchen, hoping the water would help settle your spinning head. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, you poured the water, but as you lifted it to your lips, another wave of dizziness hit you. This time, it was stronger. Your grip faltered, and the glass slipped from your hand, shattering loudly as it hit the floor.

The sharp noise brought Noelle and Mike running into the kitchen. They froze when they saw you swaying on your feet, barely managing to stay upright. You blinked, trying to focus, but everything around you was growing hazier. Before you could say anything, your legs gave way beneath you, and you crumpled to the floor, your vision blackening as you began to lose consciousness. Noelle was by your side in an instant, her hands gentle but urgent as she checked your pulse.

“Don’t worry, she’s alive,” Noelle muttered, voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. “Mike, call an ambulance now!”

Mike didn’t hesitate, rushing to grab his phone and calling for help. You could hear Mike’s voice in the background, muffled and frantic as he spoke to the operator.

“Yes, we need an ambulance,” Mike said, tone clipped, almost too calm for the situation. “My sister-in-law collapsed, and we need help immediately.”

Noelle’s voice cut through your haze, trying to keep you steady. “Come on, stay with me, okay? Just hold on.”

You couldn’t respond, couldn’t even make a sound, but you could hear them both, voices blending with the rush of adrenaline in the air. Mike’s footsteps moved swiftly, his voice growing more distant as he spoke with the ambulance on the phone.

The minutes that followed felt like hours. The sound of the ambulance siren grew louder, and relief flooded Noelle’s face as the paramedics rushed into the house. They quickly assessed the situation, asking Noelle questions about your symptoms and recent health conditions.

“She’s been experiencing dizziness for weeks now,” Noelle explained. “She’s stubborn, didn’t want to see a doctor. This morning she was nauseous, and now she’s fainted.”

The paramedics nodded, lifting you onto the stretcher carefully. Noelle and Mike followed closely as they carried you out to the ambulance. “I’m coming with her to the hospital,” Noelle said firmly, climbing into the back of the ambulance without hesitation.

Mike stayed behind, watching the ambulance doors close with a worried expression. “Alright, I’ll be informing your mother when she arrives, but call me as soon as you know something,” he said to Noelle before they drove off.

Inside the ambulance, Noelle held your hand tightly, her fingers trembling against your own. “You’re going to be fine,” she said, though her voice was thick with concern. “Just breathe, okay? We’re almost there.”

You couldn’t focus on what Noelle was saying. The world had gone dark around you, only the pulse of your own heartbeat reminding you that you were still there, still fighting to stay conscious.

The steady beeping of the machines was the first thing you registered as you slowly opened your eyes, the sterile smell of the hospital room making everything feel surreal. Blinking against the harsh fluorescent light, your gaze landed on your sister, Noelle, sitting in one of the chairs beside your bed, her expression a mixture of worry and relief when she noticed you stirring.

“Noelle,” you croaked, voice hoarse from sleep and dryness.

She shot up almost instantly, coming to your side and helping you adjust into a sitting position in the hospital bed. Her hands were gentle but firm as she propped a pillow behind your back.

“Hey, take it easy, okay?” she said softly. She reached for a bottle of water on the bedside table, unscrewing the cap before handing it to you. “Here, drink up. Small sips.”

You followed her instructions, taking slow, careful sips, the cool water soothing your parched throat. “What happened? Why am I in the hospital?” you asked weakly, mind still foggy.

“You fainted in the kitchen,” Noelle explained, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You scared the hell out of us. Mike called the ambulance, and I came with you here. Mom and Mike are both on their way. They’ll be here soon.”

Before you could respond, there was a knock at the door, a doctor entered, her expression professional but kind. Noelle immediately stepped aside, letting her approach you.

“I’m glad that you’re awake now, my dear,” she began, smiling at you. “We’ve run some tests to determine the cause of your fainting and other symptoms.”

You nodded slowly, stomach churning with apprehension. Noelle moved closer to your side, her presence grounding you.

“We’ve reviewed your results,” she continued, glancing at her clipboard before meeting your eyes. “The dizziness, nausea, and vomiting you’ve been experiencing for the past weeks are all consistent with early pregnancy symptoms. Congratulations, you’re seven weeks pregnant!”

Pregnant. Pregnant.

For a moment, the words did not register. The hospital room seemed to grow impossibly still, the doctor’s voice fading into the background as you processed the news. Seven weeks. The timeline clicked into place, and your heart sank as realization hit. Seven weeks pregnant. You could hear the faint ringing in your ears, a sharp contrast to the quiet gasp from Noelle beside you.

“I…I’m sorry, what?” you managed to stammer, voice shaking.

“You’re pregnant, dear,” the doctor repeated gently. “Seven weeks along. Your vitals look good, but it’s important to start prenatal care as soon as possible. We’ve referred you to an OB-GYN who will guide you through the process and answer any questions you might have.”

You nodded numbly, unable to form any coherent response. The doctor continued to explain what you should expect in the coming weeks—dietary recommendations, plenty of rest, and the importance of regular check-ups. But her words felt very distant, as if you were hearing them through a fog.

When the doctor finally left, you were left staring blankly at the sterile white wall, the weight of the revelation crushing you. Seven weeks. You did the math in your head, mind racing. By now, you know that the woman Lando had gotten pregnant would be around three months into pregnancy.

Tears began to well up in your eyes, the enormity of the situation was starting to overwhelm you. You were carrying Lando’s child. That man had broken and shattered your heart into pieces, and who had chosen someone else, was now bound to you in a way that you could not escape.

“Noelle,” you whispered, voice breaking.

She knelt beside the bed, taking your trembling hands in hers. “I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m here, okay?” she said softly, her tone steady and reassuring.

“I don’t know what to do,” you cried, tears streaming down your face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. How am I supposed to handle this?”

Noelle’s grip on your hands tightened slightly, eyes full of concern. “I don’t have all the answers,” she admitted, “but you don’t have to go through this alone. Whatever you decide to do, I’ll be here for you—Mom and Mike, too. We’ll all figure this out together, okay?”

Two years had already passed, and your life was a world away from where it had been. Astrid, your little ray of sunshine, was turning two today. She was the center of your universe, your whole life, her giggles filling every corner of the house you had worked so hard to call your own. It was a beautiful home, just three doors away from your mother’s home, ensuring that Astrid was always surrounded by the love and warmth of your family.

Noelle and Mike, ever the doting aunt and uncle, spoiled her endlessly. They brought over toys, books, and clothes—sometimes more than you thought Astrid needed, but you couldn’t deny the happiness on Astrid’s face when they arrived with surprise in hand.

It’s true that your pregnancy and the early days of motherhood had not been easy, but you were able to survive. More than that, you thrived. With a promotion to a top position at work and a comfortable life for you and Astrid, you finally felt at peace. The past—Lando, was no longer a wound, but now a distant memory you had learned to accept. Your family also had long stopped asking questions about the details of your breakup, and while they knew Lando was Astrid’s father, they never dwelled on it. Astrid had all the love she needed, and that was what mattered most.

But there was one part of your life you had not reconciled yet—Max and Kelly. Despite keeping in touch with Kelly through regular facetime calls, you had managed to keep Astrid a secret. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust them, it was just too complicated to explain everything. It was already enough that they found out what Lando had done that caused your breakup.

However, when Kelly had mentioned that they would be spending their vacation in your home country and would be arriving the day before Astrid’s second birthday, you had a window of opportunity. It was time to take a step forward. So you had invited them to what you described as a simple gathering at your home. You didn’t explicitly tell them that it would be Astrid’s birthday party—just that it would be a chance to catch up and spend time together.

As the day drew closer, you found yourself torn between excitement and anxiety. What would they say when they realized the gathering that you had talked about was actually a celebration for your daughter? Would they feel hurt that you had kept Astrid a secret for so long?

These thoughts lingered as you finalized the decorations, baked Astrid’s favorite cake, and prepared the house for your guests. But when you looked at Astrid, happily playing with her toys in the living room, the doubt began to fade. This was your life now—a life filled with love and laughter, even if it was different from what you had once imagined.

The backyard was a colorful dream, adorned with streamers, balloons, and a banner that read, Happy 2nd Birthday! and Astrid’s favorite colors painted every corner of the space, and the laughter of children filled the air as they played games and ran around laughing. Astrid herself was the picture of happiness, twirling in her pretty dress, a bright smile on her face as she clung to her grandmother’s hand.

You excused yourself from the backyard, your hands brushing against your dress nervously as you stepped back into the kitchen to double-check the desserts. Rows of cupcakes sat neatly on the counter, each one topped with swirls of frosting and sprinkles. You picked one up, turning it slightly to make sure everything was perfect. Then the doorbell rang.

Your heart skipped a beat, a wave of nerves rushing through you. It had to be Max, Kelly, and Penelope. You wiped your hands on a towel, took a deep breath, and walked to the front door, steadying yourself before opening it. The moment you opened the door, cheerful shouts of ‘surprise!’ had greeted you. Kelly was the first to throw her arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug.

“It’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed, stepping back as Max swooped in for a hug.

“You’ve been hiding!” Max teased lightly, squeezing your shoulder before stepping aside to let Penelope in.

“Hi Auntie!” Penelope chirped, small arms wrapping tightly around your waist as she hugged you with all her might.

You bent down to her level, pulling her into a proper hug. “Hi, darling. I missed you so much!”

Penelope pulled back, her face beaming. “I missed you too, Auntie! Can I see your house?”

Before you could respond, the sound of children’s laughter drifted in from the backyard, catching their attention. Kelly tilted her head curiously.

“What’s going on back there?” she asked, brows furrowed. “That sounds like a lot of kids.”

Max glanced at you, an eyebrow raised. “Is this the simple gathering you mentioned?”

A nervous smile tugged at your lips as you stepped back, gesturing for them to follow. “Come on, follow me.”

You led them through the hallway and out through the glass doors that lead to the backyard, where the yard was buzzing with activity. Children were playing games, some of them are having the time of their life on the bouncy castle, parents chatted near the tables of food, and Astrid was in the middle of it all, her laughter carrying above the noise.

Penelope gasped in delight. “Can I please go play?” she asked, bouncing on her toes as she looked up at Max and Kelly.

Kelly nodded with a smile. “Of course, go ahead.”

Penelope dashed off, her excitement blending seamlessly with the other children. Kelly and Max, however, stood frozen, their eyes scanning the scene. It wasn’t long before they realized that this was not just any gathering.

“Is this…” Kelly began, voice trailing off.

“A birthday party?” Max finished for her, tone laced with confusion.

You nodded slowly, your smile nervous. “Yes. Actually,” you glanced at Astrid, who was now in your mother’s arms, laughing as your mother tickled her sides. “It’s her birthday party.”

Their confusion deepened as they followed your gaze. Max opened his mouth to speak, but Kelly beat him to it. “Her?” she asked, voice soft, almost uncertain.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over to your mother and gently took Astrid from her arms. Astrid immediately snuggled into your shoulder, her tiny hands clutching at your dress as she peeked at the newcomers. Turning back to Max and Kelly, you smiled, though your heart was racing.

“Guys, this is Astrid,” you said softly. “My daughter.”

For a moment, there was only silence as Max and Kelly processed your words. Kelly’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide, while Max stared at you, his expression a mix of shock and something deeper.

“You have a daughter?” Kelly finally asked, voice trembling slightly.

You nodded, holding Astrid a little tighter. “I do.”

Max’s voice was careful, almost cautious. “Where’s her father?”

The question hung heavy in the air, heavy and unspoken truths lingering just beneath the surface. You looked down at Astrid, avoiding Max’s gaze as you shifted your weight uncomfortably.

“He’s…not in the picture anymore,” you said quietly.

Max’s eyes narrowed slightly, jaw tightening. It was clear he had pieced everything together, but decided not to press further. Instead, his gaze softened as he looked at Astrid, who was now peering curiously at him. Kelly stepped forward, her initial shock melting into warmth.

“Can I hold her?” she asked gently.

You nodded, carefully handing Astrid over. Kelly cradled her as if she had been waiting for this moment forever, her face lighting up as Astrid stared at her with wide, curious eyes.

“She’s so beautiful,” Kelly murmured, voice thick with emotion.

Max crouched down slightly to Astrid’s level, his serious expression softening. “Hey there, little one,” he said, playfully covering his eyes with his hands and then revealing them. “Peekaboo!”

Astrid blinked at him, tiny lips began curling into a smile as Max covered his face with his hand again and revealed it with a loud ‘boo!’ Astrid’s laughter was immediate and infectious, filling the air and making Max grin wider.

“She likes you,” Kelly said with a laugh, glancing at Max as she bounced Astrid gently.

Max looked up, his expression a mix of amusement and something more tender. “What can I say? Kids love me.”

Penelope had run up to you with little Astrid in tow, face glowing with excitement. “Auntie, can Astrid play with me? I promise that I’ll take care of her,” she said, her little hands clasped together as she gave you the most earnest look.

You smiled, crouching down to their level. “Alright,” you said gently, brushing a strand of hair out of Astrid’s face. “But remember, she’s still very small, so be careful with her, okay?”

“I promise!” Penelope chirped. “Come on Astrid, let’s play!” she took Astrid’s hand and led her back towards the group of children.

Once they were settled, you turned to Max and Kelly, who were waiting nearby, their expressions a mix of curiosity and seriousness. You gestured towards the patio table, and the three of you moved to sit down. For a brief moment, there was an awkward silence, only broken by the distant sound of children laughing.

It was Max who spoke first. “So,” he began, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, “are you going to tell Lando about Astrid?”

“No.” you said firmly, meeting his gaze.

Kelly’s brows furrowed. “No?” she repeated, voice a mix of confusion and concern. “You don’t plan on telling him that he has a daughter?”

“Telling him that he has a daughter is not included in my plans,” you said quietly, glancing briefly at Astrid, who was now sitting on the grass with Penelope, giggling as they played.

Max exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. “But why?” he asked, voice steady but tinged with disbelief. “Don’t you think he has the right to know?”

You looked at Max, expression calm but resolute. “He had already made his choice and I made mine,” you said softly. “By the time I found out that I was pregnant, he was already committed to building a life with someone else—for their child. I’m not that ignorant, I’ve seen the articles, Max. It’s clear as daylight that he’s happy with them, he’s being the father that the child needs.”

Max sighed. “This isn’t about the articles or public perception. It’s about Astrid. She has the right to know who her father is, and Lando has a right to know about her.”

Kelly nodded in agreement with what had Max just said. “And what happens when she grows up and starts asking questions?”

“I’ll tell Astrid,” you said. “I’ll tell her when the time is right, I’ll explain everything to her. But for now, I’m protecting her. I don’t want her to feel like she was a second thought or an obligation. I don’t want to make her feel unwanted.”

Max shook his head slightly. “It’s not fair to Astrid, or to Lando,” he said, voice low. “He deserves to know. He deserves the chance to be a part of her life.”

“And what if Lando doesn’t want to be a part of her life, Max?” you said, voice cracking slightly and gripping the edge of the table. “What if yes, I ended up telling him, and he rejected her? What if I ruin the good thing he has now, for nothing? I’m not going to be the person who will bring chaos to my daughter’s life by trying to force something that might not even work, and I most definitely won't be the one who will tear Lando’s life apart just to ease my conscience.”

Kelly reached out, placing a hand gently on yours. “I understand that you’re scared,” she said softly. “And I understand why you’ve made your choice. But you don’t have to do this alone. Whatever you decide, we’ll support you. But please, just think about it, okay?”

You nodded, though you knew that your decision was firm and wouldn’t change. “Thank you,” you said quietly, looking between Max and Kelly. “I just need you both to trust me on this one. Trust that I’m doing what’s best for Astrid.”

Max hesitated, then finally nodded. “We’ll be keeping this just between the three of us,” he said, though there was a note of reluctance in his voice. “But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find us.”

Kelly smiled faintly, her grip on your hand tightening briefly before she let go. “Astrid is lucky to have you as her mother,” she said, voice warm. “She’s amazing and gorgeous, you know. She’s already so full of life.”

You smiled softly at Kelly’s words. “She is,” you said. “She really is.”

Glancing back towards the yard, you watched Astrid and Penelope play together, the sound of Astrid’s uncontrollable laughter filled the air, warming your heart in a way that words could never even describe. Her happiness was infectious, an important reminder of everything good in your life despite the path it had taken to get where you are now. But as your eyes lingered on her, there was a familiar ache that settled deep in your chest.

You couldn’t deny it—Astrid’s features were very unmistakable. Her eyes, so full of wonder and innocence, were a mirror image of Lando’s. Every now and then, when she turned her head a certain way or smiled just so, it was like seeing a glimpse of Lando again. The resemblance was undeniable, and it only grew stronger as Astrid got older. It was a bittersweet reality you carried with you every day.

Yet, despite the pain that came with those reminders, you were happy. Truly, deeply happy. Astrid was surrounded by love—a love so abundant that it filled every corner of her little world. She didn’t need anything else, not when you, your whole family, and everyone who cherished her. That love was enough, it had to be enough.

Letting Lando go was not easy. It had taken every ounce of strength you had to accept that the life you once imagined with him was not meant to be. But you had done it, you had learned to let him go. You had made peace with the fact that you were not the one he chose, and the woman you would never be was the one who was not his.

Someday, you knew, the time might come when you were ready to tell Lando about Astrid, ready to introduce him to the child you both brought into this world. But that day was not today. For now, you would let him continue living the life he had chosen, with the person he had chosen. You wished him nothing but happiness, even if it wasn’t with you.

You also hoped that Lando would one day find everything he was searching for, that he would feel fulfilled and content in the life he was building. Even if it hurts, you wanted that for him, and while he was busy living that life, the daughter you both would not raise together would still be here—waiting for him, even if he didn’t know it yet.

The breakup, heartache, and the choices you made were not what you had wanted, but they were what you needed. Sometimes, it’s hard to accept the fact that love is not enough to keep two people together, and that’s okay. It didn’t make the love you once shared with Lando any less real.

But for now, everything else could wait.

2K notes · View notes

no-144444 · 4 months ago

Text

the grid: when the media says something insane...

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req: Hi, I'd like to request a blurb about the drivers reacting to reader being talked bad about from an interviewer. Scenario-Interviewer: "Do you think the reason you lost today's race is because 'y/n' was here and had something to do with it?"

featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.

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Oscar Piastri: makes the interviewer feel dumb asf

“And how do you feel about the DNF today, knowing that it's breaking your record of competing in every lap so far this year? Is there any specific reason as to why you might’ve made that mistake? I did see some new faces in the garage today,” Danica asked.

Oscar frowned. “What are you trying to say?”

“I was just wondering if you count your partner, Y/n, as a bad luck charm now. This is her first Grand Prix, isn’t it?”

He actually laughed in her face. “Do you seriously believe in shit like that?” he chuckled. “And no, it’s not her first, nor will it be her last.”

Danica stood, embarrassed.

“Do you have any other questions?” he asked, polite as ever. She didn’t respond. “Thanks for the joke anyway, that was actually quite funny,” Oscar added as he moved onto the next interview, a bright smile on his face despite the poor race result.

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Lando Norris: insults the interviewer

“And how do you feel about the DNF today, knowing that it's cementing your loss in the Driver’s Championship? Is there any specific reason as to why you might’ve made that mistake? I did see some new faces in the garage today,” Danica asked.

He stared at her for a moment, trying to compose himself. “If you’re talking about my girlfriend, I’d suggest you just come out and say it, Danica.”

“Alright then, do you see her as a bad luck charm now? Considering this is her first race, if I’m right,” she asked outright. Jenson rolled his eyes beside her as Martin just chuckled.

“Not at all, she’s here to support me and I’d much rather have her here for a day like today than a win. It’s called a support system Danica, I’m aware of the fact that you’re not a fan of those, but some of us actually benefit from caring about other people. And another thing, all of my bad races, you’ve been there. Maybe you’re the bad luck charm,” his voice cut through the tension in the cold Las Vegas air like a knife, and Jenson and Martin just started laughing as Danica stood there dumbfounded. “Maybe I should ask Sky to not bring you around as much.”

He handed the microphone back and continued on with his day, then posted this later:

landonorris

liked by pierregasly, lewishamilton, and 479,933 others

landonorris: idc if ur bad luck ur too sexy to let go of 🥴

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Lewis Hamilton: protective much?

“It’s Y/n’s first race in years, and yet you DNF for the first time in months, do you want to give us some insight to that?” Danica asked.

Lewis’s eyebrow raised and an annoyed smile made its way onto his face. “What are you saying right now?”

“Well, it’s just strange that her first race in years, 2 to be exact, is the one you don’t finish.”

“Are you trying to insinuate that she’s bad luck or something?”

“Is that what you believe her to be?”

“Fuck no,” he scoffed. “She’s my wife, is what she is. I’m grateful that she’s here. I love to share my love of motorsport with my wife, and I don’t feel sorry for the media that she's been preoccupied with being pregnant and busy to be here for the last 2 years. I love having her come and support me, and I’m happy that I didn’t finish the fucking race, I get more time with my family now. I cannot believe you enjoy making shitty headlines like this. Danica, maybe just stick to fucking driving.”

With that, he walked away, and later made this post:

lewishamilton

liked by pierregasly, francocolapinto, and 2,393,932 others

lewishamilton: my good luck charms xx

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George Russell: flabbergasted that someone would have the audacity

“Sorry about the result today George, do you feel like external factors made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned.

“Y’know, it’s been pretty tough all year with the car but it really felt like we pulled back to the top today, and it was just a shame that Lando went wide and pushed me into the gravel,” he shrugged.

“And you don’t see your girlfriend as a bad luck charm? It is her first race, right?”

He death-stared her for a moment. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Well, we just wanted to know how you react to knowing that it’s her first race and it’s also the race you DNFed in.”

“I don’t have a reaction,” he scoffed. “Your headlines are going to be written anyway, it doesn’t matter what I say. I don’t see her as bad luck or whatever rubbish you’re going to paint this as, and I don’t really care what you think about it. Anyway, it’s not like you have the monopoly on perfect races, Danica.”

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Kimi Antonelli: awkward and insulted

“Sorry about the result today Kimi, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned.

“Umm…” he trailed off, looking at George confused. George shook his head, silently telling him not to answer. “I don’t know what you mean?”

“Well there were external factors, obviously, but also your girlfriend was in the paddock for the first time this weekend, correct?”

He nodded.

“So do you see her as some sort of bad luck charm, or something?”

He pulled a face of disgust for a split second. “No, not at all. She went to every single one of my F2 races so I don’t see how she could have been bad luck here when she was not bad luck there,” he shrugged.

“So she’s not bad luck?”

He chuckled awkwardly. “N-no. Like I say, she was at every one of my F2 races. I think she is lucky, if anything.”

He walked away confused as George reassured him that they were just fishing for headlines and to ‘not give them the time of day’. He was slightly worried that you would think you were a bad luck charm and quickly found you and showed you that you weren’t.

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Alex Albon: shocked.

“Sorry about the race today Alex, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned.

“Umm,” he kind of chuckled. “I don’t think so? I mean it was so wet so I’m not shocked that I went off.”

“But in the garage, do you think you would’ve been more focused if your girlfriend hadn’t been there?”

He just stared at her with a slightly shocked smile as she held the microphone to his face. “Did you actually just ask that?”

She didn’t answer, just nodding.

“Well, why don’t we think back to every other race she’s been at this year. Monaco, Canada, Silverstone, Austria, and Baku, which were all my best races this season, apart from maybe Canada.”

“Yes, but today she was-”

“In the garage, the same as she always is. Wow, you’ll really do anything for a headline.”

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Franco Colapinto: Sassy asf

“Sorry about the crash today, glad to see you’re ok Franco. Do you think this weekend has been a bit more difficult because of distractions or something new being in a paddock? We saw that it was your girlfriend's first GP this weekend, could she have anything to do with it?” Danica asked.

He did a double take, staring at her. “¿Qué? Is that really what you think?”

She shrugged. “It’s only a question.”

“It’s a stupid question,” he scoffed. “¿Por qué traería mala suerte? She has been at every race so far and I haven’t seen anyone complaining.” (Why would she be bad luck?)

“So she’s not bad luck?”

He laughed. “Do I have to repeat things 3 times for you to understand?”

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Logan Sargeant: angry

“Sorry about the result today Logan, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned.

He stared at her, then pushed the mic away from him. “I’m not answering stupid fucking questions about my girlfriend.”

And he walked off. And posted this later…

logansargeant

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, jensonbutton, and 345,938 others

logansargeant: let's not bring my girlfriend into this, yeah?

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Daniel Riccardo: plays it off.

“Sorry about the end of the race today Danny, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned.

He laughed, thinking she was joking. His eyes widened when he realised she wasn’t. “You think I can’t race because my girlfriend is in the back of the garage?”

“It is her first GP, correct?”

He chuckled. “No, no it’s not. She’s always there, and anyways, I’m in the car, it’s not like I have all the time in the world to stare at her ass or something,” he smiled. “I know she’s beautiful but I don’t exactly see her when I’m going to the straight at 200 kilometres an hour.”

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Liam Lawson: sassy man apocalypse

“Sorry about the end of the race today Liam, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned.

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused about the question.

“Your girlfriend was here for the first time, could she be a bad luck charm for the team?”

“I don’t think she is but I do know that your interviews make me feel pretty fucking unlucky,” he scoffed before walking off.

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Charles LeClerc: laughs in their face

“Charles, what do you think about the people saying that Y/n is bad luck in the garage?”

He started laughing and didn’t stop for about a minute. He was as bad as Lando, to the point that Carlos had to actually walk him off the fan stage. He came back on, teary-eyed and smiling. “I think it’s quite funny.”

“Evidently,” Carlos scoffed.

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Carlos Sainz: …

“Carlos, what do you think about the people saying that Y/n is bad luck in the garage?” Danica asked.

“What people are saying that?” he asked.

“The media,” she answered.

“Well they always have bullshit to say. I’m just surprised they had the balls to go after my wife,” he scoffed. “They’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”

“That sounds extreme-”

“It’s defamation of character and she’s my wife. Nothing is extreme.”

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Arthur LeClerc: Won’t answer

“Sorry about the race today Arthur, do you think there are other factors, such as distractions, that messed up your race?”

“What a stupid question, no,” he scoffed before walking away.

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Ollie Bearman: insulted

"Sorry about your race today Ollie, do you think that your partner Y/n being here might be a bad omen?"

He stared at her. "No. Why would she be?"

"It's her first GP and you DNF, if that's not bad luck I'm not sure what is."

"That's pretty rude," he scoffed. "Don't bring my girlfriend into this."

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Max Verstappen: guys…

"Sorry about your race today Max, do you think that your partner Y/n being here might be a bad omen?"

He stared at her, his eyes dark. "Fuck off."

"Excuse me?"

"That's bullshit, don't bring my family into this. If I have a bad race, I have a bad race, that's just how it goes. She isn't bad luck, she isn't for you to make headlines about and she's not here to just be a good omen. She's my partner and she's here to support me, that's it."

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Paul Aron: laughs in their face…

"How do you feel about the result to day, do you think things could've been different if someone wasn't distracting you?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"We saw your race engineer giving out to you and your partner Y/n for distracting you. Do you think she might now be a bad luck charm?"

He scoffed, laughing in her face. "Bullshit, someone turned into me and I didn't have enough time to react. Your headline can be about that, keep my girlfriend out of this."

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Jack Doohan: so normal about it! (...)

“Sorry about the race today Jack, do you think there are other factors, such as distractions, that messed up your race?”

He knew what they were trying to say. “Do you want to just say what you want to say to my face?”

She was taken aback. “Do you think Y/n is a bad luck charm?”

He scoffed. “You’re seriously fishing for headlines when someone could’ve been seriously injured? That’s pathetic. And another thing, she’s not a fucking bad luck charm, she’s my partner, she’s not just a headline for you to fuck with.”

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