#my fucking heart. they really did that huh

[nagis-wife]

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇: Nagi Seishiro, Eita Otoya, Rin Itoshi 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 3k 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈: Accidental confessions - I love you. 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: fem!reader, fluff, comedy, pet names used, could be a little angsty at times but nothing over the top but figured I should mention it.

--- Authors note: I may have gotten carried away with these. But I hope you enjoy them nonetheless. It was not proof read either so if there's any mistakes apologies ♡

Eita Otoya ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Eita nearly always wore his headphones to drown out the city sounds that never seemed to stop. He was sure he would have hearing loss by his 30’s if he kept listening to it as loud as he did. But it was the only thing that would drown out the beeping cars and someone yelling at someone for bumping into them. Eita loved his music more than anything yet somehow almost every single song he would play somehow reminded him of you. He wanted to rip his hair out, he wondered if you ever got so fucking tired from running around his head. Eita was sure, you did this purely to torture him.

“Eita.. Hey look at me yeah?” You spoke, voice sounding like an angel. Loud in his ears as if the people in the movie you guys were watching were just speaking in whispers. Eyes setting on your face, seeing your kind ones looking back at him with such a gentle gaze. He's never felt this way before. Sure he's been around a few times but nothing has compared to the butterflies twirling around in his gut begging for him to say how he truly felt. 

Things were casual, having met in a music store and going out on a couple ‘dates’. Eita saw them as dates, never knowing if you did. The two of you never discussed what either of you wanted. Eita didn't even know how you felt about him, let alone if you were even interested in him, more than just being friends anyways. Yet here he was, his hands clammy, feeling a lump in his throat and he felt faint. Eita tried to tell himself he was just being dramatic. That the worst you can say is no.

Eitas hands reached out to yours as he looked down at you as he blinked “Yeah? Sorry. What were you saying?” He said, as if he wasn't fully distracted by his own thoughts as they were seemingly in overdrive. As if his heart wasn't currently pounding in his ears, nearly drowning out you entirely. “I asked if you were okay, you don't seem well.. Do you wanna take a raincheck and come back tomorrow? I promi-” You were cut off by Eita sighing, not that he was irritated, he was, but with himself. “No.. no that's not it. I swear. I do have something I need to tell you though” He trailed off as he took a deep breath. “I have feelings for you. I could go as far as saying that my feelings are so strong one could possibly call it love. I've never felt this way about anyone before, and I'm not sure what to do about that.” 

You let out a laugh, Eitas veins running cold, not that it lasted long as he felt your hands wrapping around his waist, nuzzling your face against his chest. “Silly boy, ya know for someone who was a playboy, youre really bad at reading women” You teased as even you felt warm, weeks of courting Eita turned into this? One would say you were the winner here. 

Relief floods his pretty green eyes as he chuckles a bit, wrapping his hands around your waist resting his face in the crook of your neck. He felt so light, as if a ton of bricks was lifted from his shoulders. He closed his eyes for a moment enjoying the warmth that radiates from your body. “I think I should be the one saying that, my love. You have no idea how much you lift me just by being next to me, my beautiful muse” Rubbing his back as you sighed gently, 

“Yeah I can tell.. You flirt much less now with others, only with me huh playboy?” You joked as you pulled from him just enough to see his face as he stood straight up again with a knowing smile “Yeah yeah thats because of you idiot” Rolling your eyes you reach up to press a kiss against his cheek. “Whatever you say ya simp.” You joked as you grabbed Eitas hand watching from his apartment window the city below you, the snowflakes falling steadily. Eita grumbled something as he moved to sit behind you wrapping his arms around your midsection and resting his chin on your head. “That was rude” 

“Yeah yeah, you'll be okay playboy” You teased as he groaned. A laugh leaving your lips, yeah you two will be perfectly fine. 

✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Nagi Seishiro  ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Nagi didn't think he needed anyone, and how wrong he couldve been. After befriending not only Reo but you.. Nagi soon came to realize that maybe everything isn't a hassle. Maybe.. Just maybe.. He actually enjoyed having you around. It wasn't often that he would pause his game just to respond to your text, hang out with Reo more often than normal, or even leave his apartment willingly just to see you. Nagi didn't understand his own feelings with this, looking up stupid articles about his feelings to try to understand them. One word kept showing up, “love.” Nagi was confused by this development. Did he actually love you? It wasn't the same rapid beating in his chest when he was hanging out with Reo, not that his heart skipped a beat when he was with Reo. That has to be it - right?

He wasn't sure how it happened or why his chest had felt so funny when you were around. Maybe it was the humidity in the air, yeah it was just the heat. Rather the heat that would raise on his cheeks when you so much as looked in his direction with a soft gaze, or even said his hair was cute and complimented him well. How his grey toned eyes fit his features so nicely. Nagi didn't know what to do with himself when these things happened, his face would get just hot, his stomach would do so many flips he felt sick. Nagi couldn't even handle your gaze, how would he be able to even hold your hand, to press his lips against yours. They looked so inviting, so soft. He would stay up thinking about you, how you would taste.. Shaking the thoughts as he tossed and turned. 

“Seishiro!? Earth to Seishirooo!” You waved your hand in front of his face as you sat across from him as he blinked a few times at you, his cheeks heating with a soft hue. Clearing his throat as he looked back down at his phone. His reaction made you stifle a laugh before leaning back in his bed, your back against the wall “Hmm something on your mind?” You questioned as your gaze drifted to your own phone as you scrolled through your feeds. Yeah, you. “Hell no. I was.. was distracted by uh.. something going on in my game. Don't worry about it. It's gone now anyways.” He lied through his teeth as you raised a brow and tilt your head to the side, almost as if you were calling his bluff. “Mm, right. So what was I talking about then?” Nagi couldn't recall a single thing you had said, too distracted by your lips and how the sun beams that seeped through his curtains hit the gloss that was on your lips. “Uhm.. uh..” He looked at everything but you as he tried to come up with something. 

An amused grin curled at the corner of your lips, leaning on your elbows. “I was talking about Reo and how he looked really hot, all dressed up y'know.” You too, lied through your teeth but that was not the point right now. Nagi felt an unfamiliar sensation flooding his veins as he clicked his tongue against his teeth before tossing his phone aside, a pout on his lips. He turned to you as he huffed. Jealousy and insecurities flooding his body. “I'm just teasing Seishiro I cou-” He cuts you off as he looks at you with eyes filled with determination which shut you up quickly as he opens his mouth several times before shutting it again. 

With his feelings being higher than he ever thought they could be he blurts out words you half expected to never fall from his lips “I love you okay!? I don't want to hear about Reo or h-how hot you think he is, or how strong he looks. I-I know I wouldn't match up to him. I've been alone most of my life. I don't know what these feelings are. I just know that.. I can't match up to him for you. I'm not Reo.” 

Looking at him with a shocked expression as a soft sigh left your lips reaching across the table grabbing his hands into your own. “That is the insecurities talking, Sei..” You moved closer to him as a hand rested against the top of his head, nails grazing against his scalp, earning a soft groan from his throat as he leaned into your touch.

You sighed softly as you felt the anxiety radiating from his body. “Sei. Do you really think that if I actually wanted Reo that I would be here with you all the time? That I would wait for you to come online just to be able to play games with you? Seishiro.. The feelings I have for you would outweigh anyone like Reo. No amount of money would change how I feel about you. I talk to the stars about you, whispering to the wind hoping you would hear how much I love you. Not even the Gods could keep me away from you Seishiro. I'm sorry if talking about Reo that way made you upset.” 

Nagis eyes searched for yours, as if he was looking for something in them. However he's only met with a soft gaze that was filled with nothing but adoration. He moves to sit up as he nearly tackles you back against the mattress, his arms wrapping around you rightly his head finding its place in your chest. A laugh pulled from your throat as he nuzzled against you. 

“You mean it?” He murmured, his voice muffled. 

“Yeah, I mean it, Seishiro.” You spoke as you reached to card your fingers through his hair as he gave your frame a squeeze falling in love with the way you felt in his arms. Yeah, maybe not being alone is nice.

Rin Itoshi ♡･ﾟ:｡.:･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:｡.:･ﾟ

Meeting Rin was purely an accident and neither of you remember how it happened. Well Rin did, he fully remembers the moment you walked into his life standing by his side even when he was the lowest he had ever been. Rin did not however remember when he fell for you. Maybe it was when he first saw you, maybe it was after. Maybe it was when you first breathed his name rather than calling him Itoshi. That didn't matter to him anymore. All he knew is what he wanted to protect you no matter the cost or consequence of his action. He would move mountains if you asked him too. 

Rin has always kept to himself, he found it hard venturing out, let alone understanding how he felt about you. Let alone he found it hard to even think with how he was that you would ever feel the same about him. Did you too feel the same as he did? Rin knew he was good at one thing, and still had his own self doubts. 

Now the two of you were on the train home, having gone to see a new horror movie Rin had convinced you to go see. You had been scared out of your mind the whole time while Rin didn't seem to even move a muscle while watching it. However the movie still ended up being really good. Rin had invited you over to his place for some dinner, and you weren't going to say no to his cooking. He somehow was amazing in the kitchen. Not that you knew how, but you weren't going to complain at all. 

The setting sun casted beautiful hues of pinks and purples in the sky. Stopping as you pulled out your phone, Rin had stopped looking back at you as you snapped the photo. Friends dont look at friends that way. However the thought passes as quickly as it comes into your head. 

“Rin wait, stay just like that, look up towards the sky.” You told him as he sighed but still entertained your request. Humming as you tisked before walking over to him grabbing his cheeks as you adjusted his head. His cheeks felt cold under your touch. “There just like that dont move pretty RinRin” You teased as you took a few steps back again taking a few snaps as you smiled at your phone. 

“Sometimes you should listen to me Rin” You mused as you showed him the photo, it did look great as he playfully rolled his eyes “Sure, I'd rather not do that. A bit too.. Lukewarm for me doll” 

A gasp passed your lips as your jaw slacked at his harmless insult. He most definitely did not see you as lukewarm. “Ouch I'm wounded, might need some homemade cookies and ice cream to fill the wounds you've caused me” You said dramatically as you gripped his jacket falling to your knees, giggling the whole way down. Rin couldn't help but to look at you with a raised brow and an amused expression. A chuckle being forced from his chest as he grabbed your hand pulling you back to your feet. 

“That was the most dramatic thing you've done, however if you want cookies you're gonna make them yourself or at least help me.” He spoke, a smile, albeit small, still on his lips. “Rin.. the last time you let me in the kitchen I almost burnt down your apartment and I also ruined the baking sheet. That's not a good idea.” 

Rin remembered this happening, the screaming of his name, and panic in your voice. Trying to waft out the smoke all while to get the smoke detector to stop beeping, crying out how the fire department was going to show up if he did help. All the while he was doubled over holding his stomach as belting laughs rippled from his throat. Rin was not helpful at all. It was one of his favorite memories the two of you shared. 

“Yeah I'd prefer if you didn't do that again. I'll take care of it” he spoke with a monotone voice as he grimaced.

Finally making it back to his apartment, with you not in the kitchen while he made dinner, choosing to just pull out the store bought cookies hoping it would be enough to appease you. Idle conversation filled the air as the two of you ate. However, getting a notification on your phone stating there had been an accident with the trains and you were now going to be stuck or get a taxi in hopes that it wouldnt take hours to get you home due to the amount of added traffic due to the trains being down. 

“You could always just stay over. I think you still have some clothes here, if not you can just wear mine.” Rin stated as if it was the only option. Not that he was wrong, however it did sound better than dealing with the hellish drive home. 

“Fine but you better keep your boyish hands to yourself” You teased as you skipped to his bedroom and flicked on the light. Humming as you changed into lounge wear, it was much more comfortable than what you had on before. 

Peering out from the door once you were in your Pj’s “Come on, I'm ready for bed. It's a damn good thing I have clothes over here from the last time I stayed over. I'd hate to be in your stinky clothes” You teased. Rin has never smelled bad. In fact you bought the cologne he had worn and even when he got low he would buy the exact same one again. You did say it was our favorite afterall. 

Rin let out a groan as he stood up and walked over to you, and entered the room. Following you into the bed, watching you wiggle around to find a comfortable spot as his hands came to his hips with raised brows, shaking his head with a chuckle. “You're somethin’ else I swear.” Rin walked into the closet to change in there as he stopped out. Seeing your chest steadily rising and falling. His gaze lingering for a moment. Taking out his phone as he took a few photos, to tease you with later. 

Finally climbing into the bed, he was sure you were in a deep sleep as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him. Selfishly he knew his feelings. Rin pressed a kiss against your forehead as he sighed. “I love you so much. You have no idea what you do to me, you little minx.” Although Rin couldn't have been more wrong as he blinked a few times as he felt you shift under his weight, peering up at him with wide eyes. “Ya know, confessions are best given when someone is awake RinRin.” You teased, as he avoided your gaze only for you to bring it back to you as your hand was pressed against his cheek. 

“And you're awake, so it makes it easier for me too.” You murmured as you leaned forward, lips locking together as if it was the most perfect puzzle pieces locking together. “I love you too. We will talk more about this in the morning and what that means for us, however, for now. Protect me from the monsters under your bed, yeah?” Rin only nodded, his cheeks tinted pink as his heart raced in his chest. Feeling you adjust yourself in his arms, your face in the crook of his neck. 

This was perfect. You were perfect.

♡･ﾟ:｡.:･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:｡.:･ﾟ

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[mmeskywalker]

|| second date update

summary: you were confused to as why ANAKIN SKYWALKER didn’t call you back. after being friends for so long, you finally got the chance to go on a date with the guy, and he completely ghosts you. what went wrong? you asked yourself. eventually, the question got to be too much to bear, so padmé helps you out…

word count: 2.6k+

a/n: this is lowercase intended. please do not be alarmed! i’ve been watching brooke and jubal tiktoks all week sooooo, here we are.

warnings: modern!ani, a little angsty, but that’s literally it.

——————————————————————————

“no, padmé, that’s exactly the problem.” you groan into your palms. “he won’t call me back!”

just your luck, you go out on a date with your best friend of 4 years and he decides he wants nothing to do with you anymore.

of-fucking-course.

“well—honey,” she sighs, her slender fingers pushing your hair out of your face. padmé pauses for a moment, trying to think of what to tell you until suddenly her head perks. “do you listen to the radio at all?” she asks.

you shake your head. “only when i’m really bored.”

“well, there’s this radio show called brooke and jubal in the morning… they do a segment where they call the people who leave their listeners confused about why they aren’t calling them back.”

“really?” you lift your head. tempting, you think before furrowing your brows. “okay, no—i am NOT having a radio show call anakin to ask about why he’s not calling me back.”

padmé laughs, opening up her macbook, “if you don’t email them, i will, y/n!”

your eyes widen as she clicks on the gmail app, her mouse edging against the button that allows her to contact brooke and jubal. you close your eyes, a hand reaching over to squeeze her arm as if giving her permission to do it despite your heart racing faster than it ever has before.

before you know it, she’s written a message and hitting send.

“what’s the worst that will happen?” padmé says. “they get hundreds of emails a day, they’re unlikely to even respond.”

“right,” you reluctantly agree.

——————————————————————————

you wake up to your phone buzzing beside you. with a groan, you roll over, your hand plopping on the device as if trying to turn off an alarm. it doesn’t turn off. your head perks up, confused until you recognize the number.

brooke and jubal.

“shit!” you shout, stumbling your phone in your hands before clicking the glowing, green button, answering their call.

“uh— hello?” you try to keep your composure, but embarrassment is rushing through your entire body. you’re on the phone with a radio show trying to get ahold of anakin.

pathetic.

“hello! this is jubal, from brooke and jubal in the morning.” a host-like voice booms from the other line. “is this y/n we’re speaking to?”

“it is!” you say, sounding just as excited despite the pit forming in your stomach.

jubal laughs, “wonderful! did we wake you?” he asks. “sorry about that, we just wanted to hear a more detailed version of what happened the other night.”

“this guy… anakin?” brooke jumps in. “you say that he was your best friend?”

“yeah!” you rub your face. “yeah—we were close for 4 years. he asks me on a date, and afterward completely ignores me.”

brooke makes a sound of sheer confusion from the other line. “huh, that’s so weird,” she exclaims. “tell me more about this date. was there anything that could have indicated this out of him?”

you scrunch your forehead, trying to recall a bad moment. “he seemed a little nervous, but that’s just anakin.” you chuckle. “we had a great time. he came over to my house and we prepared picnic foods, laughing and cooking together until he drove us to our favorite park. i thought everything was going really well.”

“there was even a moment where it looked as if he wanted to kiss me,” you continue. “we had just stopped laughing, and he started to look at me with his big, beautiful, blue eyes… it was as if the entire world momentarily stopped spinning.”

“looked as if?” jubal asks. “so he didn’t actually kiss you?”

that stings a little, but you shake your head. “no, he didn’t actually kiss me.”

“bummer!” brooke replies. “i wonder why? it sounds as if you guys had a really great night. a romantic picnic with your best friend—i don’t understand what went wrong, do you jubal?”

“no, i don’t either!”

jubal pauses for a moment, “and you’re sure nothing weird or embarrassing happened during your date?”

“i’m positive, jubal.” you are quick to reply.

“well,” he sighs. “i’m pretty confused too then. i say we call him and get to the bottom of this. before we do that though, you need to prepare for the worst. whatever he’s about to say will be broadcasted on the radio, and it might be embarrassing. are you okay with that, y/n?”

you nod your head, your tone shifting slightly. “yes, i—i just want my best friend back.”

“you seem like such a kind girl,” brooke frowns. “we’ll figure this out for you.”

“we aaarrrrreeee going to have to ask you to mute though, y/n,” jubal adds, “i know it’ll be tempting but try not to join into the conversation until we signal you in.”

you let out a quiet laugh, nodding silently. “okay, i’ll try my best!” your nervousness begins to pile into your gut as they warn you about adding anakin the the call. it’s all beginning to feel a little too real. you swallow thickly, double checking that you’re muted.

“hello?” anakin stretches, his voice groggy from sleep.

“hello, good morning!” jubal says, excitedly. “can i speak to anakin, please?”

“uh, yeah, this is him.” anakin replies, confused.

jubal smiles warmly, his voice clear on the other line, almost as if he were catching up with an old friend. “hi, how are you?” he asks.

“good— who is this?” anakin is clearly not in the mood, and you look to the side, ashamed to be contacting him this way.

“this is jubal, from brooke and jubal in the morning!” before he can finish, anakin cuts him off. “broken what?” he asks, mishearing jubal’s declaration.

some guy in the background laughs as brooke comments, “well, we are broken.” before jubal chuckles, cutting them off. “no, brooke and jubal in the morning, we host a radio show!”

“we’re calling you because we got an email about you from one of our listeners,” jubal says. “an email?” anakin replies. “yeah it’s from a girl that you went out on a date with!”

“what, i’m sorry— i don’t understand what’s going on.” anakin sighs, scratching his head.

“i know, you’re not supposed to yet, i’ll explain… okay, so i host a radio show, and we do a segment called ‘the second date update’, that’s where you go out on a date with somebody and then don’t call them after. when that happens, they email us to see if we can get you on the phone and ask what happened.”

“okay…” anakin says, his attention beginning to focus on the phone call.

jubal raises a brow. “so you went out on a date with a girl named y/n?”

you hear anakin stand from his bed and know exactly what he’s doing. whenever he gets stressed he starts to pace back and forth, and it causes you to hold you breath. “y—yes i did,” he mutters, almost as if he were embarrassed.

“you sound a little ashamed there, buddy?” jubal states. “is everything alright?”

“yeah, everything’s fine.” anakin clears his throat. “why are you asking about y/n?”

jubal doesn’t hesitate to answer. “well, she told us that you guys had a really romantic evening. you went out on a picnic, enjoyed some alone time together, and there was even a moment where she thought you would kiss her.”

“i don’t know if i want to talk about this on the radio…” anakin says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“listen, man,” jubal sighs. “i get that, i do, but y/n agreed to hearing whatever it is you have to say, no matter the outcome.”

anakin exhales sharply, and you can practically hear him running a hand through his hair. “she said that?” his voice is quieter now, more cautious, like he’s speaking directly to himself and not the hosts.

“she did,” jubal says, his tone warm, almost encouraging. “she just wants her best friend back, man. but she also doesn’t understand what happened. you’ve got to help us out here—what’s going on? why’d you ghost her?”

anakin groans, and for a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of his pacing. you know exactly what he looks like right now: hair a mess, his hand constantly fidgeting at the back of his neck, that crease forming between his brows like it does when he’s stressed.

“it’s not like i wanted to ignore her,” he finally mutters, almost defensively. “but it’s… complicated.”

brooke hums, and you can picture her leaning closer to the mic like she’s about to pull the truth out of him. “anakin, you know we’re not letting you off the hook with ‘complicated,’ right? y/n told us the date was perfect—picnic, laughs, chemistry. what could possibly have gone so wrong?”

“nothing went wrong!” he snaps, but then he sighs, his tone softening. “that’s the thing. it was perfect. it was too perfect, okay? y/n’s been my best friend for years, and suddenly, she’s there, and she looks… she looks beautiful, and she’s laughing at my dumb jokes, and we’re just… making sandwiches in her kitchen like we’ve done a hundred times before, but it doesn’t feel the same. it felt like… like I was standing on the edge of something huge.”

jubal chuckles lightly. “sounds like you’re describing a rom-com moment, dude. you’re telling me you ghosted her because it felt too right?”

anakin groans again, frustrated. “you don’t get it. if it went wrong—if i messed it up—i wouldn’t just lose a date. i’d lose her. and I can’t… i can’t lose her.”

your heart squeezes painfully at his words. it’s everything you’ve been dying to hear, but it’s also infuriating. he was scared? that’s why he disappeared without a word?

brooke clicks her tongue, her voice playful but firm. “anakin, honey, i’m gonna be honest—you sound like a massive idiot right now. instead of risking messing things up, you actually messed things up by ghosting her. she thinks you don’t care.”

“but i do care,” he blurts, almost desperate. “i care so much it freaks me out. y/n’s… she’s everything. she’s been there for me through everything. and then that night, it wasn’t just friendship anymore—it was something more. i didn’t know what to do with that.”

there’s a long pause, and you realize you’re holding your breath, your hands gripping your phone so tightly your knuckles ache.

“look,” jubal says, breaking the silence. “i get that you’re scared, man. love’s messy, and yeah, maybe it’s risky. but if you don’t talk to her, you’re gonna lose her anyway. is that what you want?”

anakin’s voice is so quiet you almost don’t catch it. “no. that’s not what i want.”

“so, can we bring her in?” brooke asks gently, her voice softening now. “she’s been listening this whole time. do you want to talk to her?”

your stomach flips as the words register. this is it. the moment you’ve been waiting for—and dreading.

anakin hesitates, and for a second, you’re terrified he’ll say no. but then he exhales, his voice steady despite the emotion laced in it. “yeah. yeah, let me talk to her.”

jubal gives you the signal, and your thumb hovers over the mute button. your chest feels impossibly tight, the rhythmic pounding of your heart drowning out every other sound in the room. you try to steady your breathing, but it’s no use—the nervous energy coursing through you is electric. swallowing the lump in your throat, you finally press the button, unmuting yourself.

“anakin?” your voice wavers, barely above a whisper.

there’s a beat of silence so long you’re sure he’s left the call. just as you’re about to check your phone, his voice filters through, quiet and uncertain. “y/n.”

his tone carries so much weight that your stomach twists painfully. “so…” you begin, your words shaky. “you’ve been ignoring me because you’re scared?”

he groans softly, the sound distant, like he’s pacing again. you can almost picture him: one hand tugging at his hair, the other shoved deep into his pocket. “it sounds so stupid when you say it like that.”

“because it is stupid,” you shoot back, though your voice lacks venom. “do you know how much i’ve been overthinking this? how many times i’ve replayed that night in my head, wondering if i did something wrong?”

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” he says, almost tripping over his words in his eagerness to reassure you. “you were… perfect.” his voice dips lower, softer. “that’s the problem, y/n. everything about that night was perfect. and it terrified me.”

your breath catches, the sincerity in his words catching you off guard. “terrified you? why?”

anakin exhales heavily, and when he speaks, his voice is laced with raw vulnerability. “because i realized that night that you’re not just my best friend anymore. you’re… so much more than that. and if i mess this up, i lose you. i don’t know if i could handle losing you.”

his confession hits you like a tidal wave, a mix of emotions swelling in your chest—relief, frustration, affection. “anakin,” you say softly, your voice cracking under the weight of it all. “you’ve been my best friend for four years. do you really think i’d just disappear if something went wrong?”

he hesitates, and you can hear the faint creak of floorboards as he shifts his weight. “i don’t know,” he finally admits, his voice so small it makes your heart ache. “but i couldn’t take that chance.”

“you idiot,” you mutter, shaking your head even though he can’t see you. there’s no malice in your words, only exasperated affection. “do you have any idea how much i wanted you to kiss me that night? how much i’ve been hoping you’d just talk to me instead of leaving me in the dark?”

“i wanted to,” he says, the regret heavy in his tone. “god, y/n, i wanted to kiss you so badly. but then i started overthinking, and all i could see were the ways i might screw everything up. so i panicked.”

you let out a dry laugh, the bitterness in it surprising even you. “well, congratulations. you managed to freak yourself out over nothing and made things awkward anyway.”

he laughs, a soft, breathy sound that carries a hint of his usual warmth. “yeah, i guess i did.”

silence settles over the call, thick with unspoken emotions. it’s not uncomfortable, but it’s heavy, like both of you are trying to figure out what comes next.

finally, he breaks it. “so… where do we go from here, y/n?” his voice is tentative, like he’s afraid of the answer.

before you can respond, jubal’s voice cuts in, light and teasing. “how about i pay for your second date?”

you can’t help but laugh, the tension breaking just enough for you to breathe again. “i think that’s be wonderful, jubal.”

“good,” jubal adds, clearly grinning. “because it sounds like you two could use a do-over. no pressure, though.”

anakin’s chuckle rumbles softly through the line. “i wouldn’t mind that. a do-over, i mean. but only if you’re up for it, y/n.”

your chest tightens at his words, but this time, it’s not from anxiety. it’s hope, tentative but real. “yeah,” you say quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “i think we could use a do-over.”

the radio show hosts cheer dramatically in the background, and even brooke chimes in with a delighted laugh. “now that’s what we like to hear!”

as the call winds down, anakin’s voice softens again. “can i call you later? you know, without the whole radio audience listening in?”

you grin, the weight of the past few days finally starting to lift. “yeah, anakin. call me later.”

“i will,” he promises, and for the first time in days, you believe him.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

12 Days of Christmas: 2024 Christmas Event

Day 1: Secret Santa

Pairing: The Chain & Reader

Warning(s): N/A

Notes: Staring off strong with some secret Santa shenanigans. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Next Day

In hindsight, introducing the idea of 'Secret Santa' while stuck in an alternate dimension with eight men might not have been the best choice on your very modern, very medievally-challenged part, because you were quite sure you hadn't been given a moment's peace since explaining the concept to the little assholes a day ago.

"Wild, buddy, my ride-or-die, I said no," you groaned as Wild's puppy eyes ratcheted up a level, practically glimmering in his skull. The Champion was unusually persistent in his quest to discover which of them would be the (lucky) recipient of whatever gift you could manage to scrounge up in this hellhole of a dimension. Not that the others hadn't tried; even you weren't daft enough to notice several of the little-er bastards sticking their grubby fingers into your stuff while the older bastards distracted you with similar mischief. You already accepted that complete privacy was a hard-pressed luxury in Hyrule, but this was getting ridiculous, even more so that Time, Twilight, Wars, and Sky–the responsible ones, you called them–were nowhere to be found.

"Just a hint?" Wild's eyes widened, and you could have sworn his pupils had all but swallowed the brilliant blue of his irises. It would have been adorable, but your patience was growing dangerously thin. The Cook leaned in close; like that would entice you to reconsider. "I won't tell."

"Uh huh," your arms crossed over your chest, and you scooted so far back that you nearly fell from the log you were sitting on. Damn him, and damn Hyrule and Legend, who had been watching the exchange with open intrigue.

"C'mon, I won't say a word," the Champion cajoled. He was basically on top of you, and you were torn between stomping to find Time, who wouldn't dare be this annoying, or surrendering to the laughter threatening to bubble from your chest. "Cross my heart-–

"Nope," you interrupted quickly when Wind's ears gremlin ears perked up from across the camp. He was too young, too beautiful, to be praying for death. Attempting to steer the conversation back to saner waters, you raised a brow. "For someone who's never played, you don't seem concerned with what to get your Secret Santa. Feeling lucky, Champ?"

"Absolutely," he said with the smoothness of Nutella over bread. Fuck, you wished Hyrule had that. The sun beat down over the camp, and you absentmindedly tugged on the collar of your tunic. "Plus, the bet–"

"Wild!" Hyrule hissed, ears pinking, and you nearly choked at the admission, horror lacing your expression.

"Wait, you're all betting on my Secret Santa?"

"Duh!" Wind joined the conversation with his usual amount of teenage sass, sauntering over to plop next to you on the log, a hair's breadth away from swinging those tangerine-covered legs over your lap. "I'm a pirate!"

"You're a child," you replied without missing a beat, sticking your tongue out at the young sailor. "And I'll be having a word with Time about letting you make bets."

Wind rolled his eyes, obviously recalling the time you'd caught him attempting to make off with one of Wild's bomb arrows after Legend dangled the promise of a two-week free trial with the fire rod upon completion. "Please, that was one time."

"Wind, I'm going to hold your hand when I tell you this–"

The sailor's resulting grimace was the stuff of legend. "Ew, cooties–"

"–but back in my age, you have to be eighteen to make bets with money," you paused to register his statement, brows furrowing. Cooties, really? In a world where Herpes existed? "Child, you're literally proving my point."

"Now sailor, ya know tha's dangerous," Twilight materialized behind you to comment, expression the picture of amusement, while you let yours reflect how unimpressed you were.

"Hey, Twi. How much did you toss in? Five rupees? Ten?" You raised a brow. "Twenty?"

A snort left the Rancher's mouth. He leaned down, meeting your gaze with the best shit-eating grin you'd seen outside of Wild. "Ya know 'm not a betting kind, darl'."

"Bullshit," you hissed, pushing his face away with your palm. "Thirty? Forty? You're flattering me here."

Twilight rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest, though he didn't look the least bit nonplussed. "Ya think 'm made of rupees, darlin'?"

"Absolutely not, you're just as broke as the rest of us," you chuckled, flicking your finger in his direction. The others joined in, and you caught Wind's body when he dissolved into giggles, collapsing against your shoulder, using your free hand to ruffle sandy-blonde locks. "Woah, man overboard!"

The camp laughed once more, and no more was said of anyone's Secret Santa. Until the next morning.

The sun was on the rise when you woke, stretching your arms and settling more solidly against the plush fabric of your bedroll, squished between Wind and Sky's respective sleeping positions. The Chosen Hero had an arm tossed haphazardly over your stomach, while the Sailor had somehow managed to meld himself to your shoulder, like you were the meat to the metaphorical sandwich. It was a comforting weight, and you would have stayed had your bladder not chosen that exact moment to express its displeasure with an urgent cramp. 

Grumbling to yourself, you extracted yourself from the pile, ignoring Sky's sleepy mumble when his arm flopped against your bedroll, though Wind quickly became his next target and you trudged away knowing everything was once more right in the world, silently slinking past the snoozing forms of Time and Twilight to the forest. 

A thin breeze swept through the trees as you weaved between them, rustling the thick, sun-dappled canopy. Once satisfied that you wouldn't be walked in on by an overactive hero with your pants down, you did your business and returned to camp, sighing at the relieved pressure in your abdomen. 

Now, let it never be said that you enjoyed being a tease, but watching the chain scramble to discover just what you were planning for 'secret santa' was more than entertaining; from the moment you dropped the small slips of paper in Legend's shed hat to be drawn to the last time you had caught Wild and Four peering into your traveling pack. Even Time and Warriors, who were arguably the most mature of the bunch, were only slightly more discrete in discovering just what you had planned for the recipient of your gift, though you suspected it was partly because Time had years of experience in this sort of fuckery and Warriors' time as a captain had taught him to be especially thorough when conducting searches. 

Still, there was no hidden joy in their faces when Wild would pester you about the subject, so you knew they hadn't discovered it yet. You also knew that they weren't curious enough to search your clothes pockets, where the thin slip of paper proclaiming your charge lay. 

As expected, the camp was mostly deserted by the time you managed to saunter your half-awake ass back into it. Four, Hyrule, and Legend lay in a heap of limbs that had you wincing, while Wind was playing the dutiful teddybear for Sky's more cuddly provocalities. Time and Warriors had found each other in Twilight's absence, the Rancher having left their company in favor of rolling up his bedroll, ears perking up when you approached. 

"Hey, darl'," the hero greeted, tightening the straps containing the bedroll in a tight coil. "Sleep well?"

"You bet," you answered, plopping down beside him. You sat cross-legged, elbows perched on upwards curve of your thighs. "And you?"

"'S well as any other night," the Rancher answered, running a hand through his sleep-tosseled hair. You debated grabbing your comb to help him out, but ultimately held back; best not to steal Warriors' only pleasure in life. "What's got ya up so early? Ah know we're doin' that secret... remind me th' name 'o that 'gain?"

"Santa," you corrected. 

"Tha's the one! Anyways, ah know we're doin' tha' thing tah-day, but ya don't gotta wake up early, 'e'll love whatever ya get 'em."

You grinned at his attempt to reassure you, using one of your hands to lay a gentle clap on the blade of his shoulder. "I appreciate it, Twi, but that's not why I'm up."

"Oh?" 

"Actually, I was wondering if you've seen Wolfie lately?" you asked, purposefully keeping the question vague. If there was anyone who knew where the elusive wolf was, it was his unofficial bestie, Twilight. 

"Wolfie, eh?" the Rancher hummed, putting a finger to his chin. "'M sure I could track 'im down for ya. May ah ask why?"

You shrugged. "I just miss him. Plus, you wouldn't want him to miss his first Secret Santa, right?"

Abruptly, Twilight sat up a bit straighter, as if caught off guard. His ears twitched. "Hol' up. Yer including 'im in this?"

"Um, yes?" You leveled the Rancher with a puzzled look. However you looked at it, Wolfie was an integral part of the team, and deserved to be treated as such, which is why you felt no shame in adding a slip of paper with his name on it into the hat when no one was looking. The furry sweetheart was already known for bringing back things, so whoever drew his name wouldn't be missing out. "He's one of us, Twi. It wouldn't be fair to not include him."

"Not include who?" A new voice cut in, and you shot a lazy wave to Warriors, who was in the process of worming his way from the cocoon that was his bedroll. "Please tell me we're talking about Legend, no one'll tell me who got him."

"First of all, rude, and second of all, no," you stuck your tongue out at the Captain, who had managed to maneuver himself next to you and Twilight, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "I was asking Twi about Wolfie, it's been a bit since we've seen him."

"Hm," said Warriors, looking marginally less invested at the realization that you weren't discussing his mortal enemy in sass and sarcasm alike. He ran a hand through his hair and you were instantly jealous of how easily his fingers slipped through the almost golden strands. "Now that I think about it... have you tried the forest?"

"A bit," you admitted, glancing around the surrounding area. It was empty, but you still looked. "He usually comes to us, but with all the portal-hopping we've been doing..."

"Ain't no reason ta worry," Twilight clapped your shoulder as he stood, rolling his shoulders. "He looked back and shot you a dazzling smile. "Ah'll find 'im, dont'cha worry."

With that, he disappeared into the thick forest.

It was time.

You arranged for everyone to sit in a circle, noting that they all seemed to be clutching some sort of item. You were no exception, cradling a thin bundle of fabric to your chest; you hadn't quite known what to get your Secret Santa, but you hoped it would be well-received regardless.

"Is everyone ready?" Time asked, though the look he threw you suggested that he was only taking charge to quell the excited jittering before the heroes descended upon one another in a frenzy.

There was a chorus of agreement, and you sat taller. Twilight had returned a bit ago, claiming that Wolfie was 'nowhere to be found', and while you were skeptical–and frankly a bit worried–you let it go, ushering him to sit with a large smile. Even so, you couldn't keep them waiting, which is why you cleared your throat. "Perfect! You may begin."

There was a clatter as Wild practically launched himself at Wind, proudly displaying what could only be a smaller version of Twilight's hookshot. The craftsmanship was clear, and your heart melted when the Sailor's mouth dropped, eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

"This is awesome!" exclaimed the youngest hero, running a hand over the gleaming surface. "I've never– thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"You're welcome," Wild scratched the back of his neck, obviously pleased. "I'm glad you like it."

The Champion's gift-giving was quickly followed by Four, who presented Hyrule with a new sword that shone brighter than water, the hilt decorated with small green gemstones; then Time, who commissioned a new pair of boots for Warriors. Legend was next, handing Wind

The Champion's gift-giving was quickly followed by Four, who presented Hyrule with a new sword that shone brighter than water, the hilt decorated with small green gemstones; then Time, who commissioned a new pair of boots for Warriors. Legend was next, producing a large sack full of metallic fragments that gleamed in the pale light and handing it to the resident smith, who looked a bit teary-eyed at the offering, and Warriors took no prisoners in gifting Twilight a loop of metal-reinforced rope, already tied in a short lasso at the end. You felt a tap on your shoulder, and Wind was behind you, holding something behind his back. 

"This is for you!" The sailor proclaimed, practically shaking with excitement as he shoved a mass of blue-green fabric into your arms. "I wasn't sure what to get you at first, but I saw this in Time's Hyrule and it looked perfect!"

You grinned at the admission, unraveling the fabric to reveal a stunning cape. It was long and smooth, with the Hylian Crest emblazed on the back in brilliant white stitching. "Wind, I love it," you pulled the Sailor into a hug, mindful of the wrapped bundle still held against your chest. "It's everything I've ever wanted."

Wind's eyes bugged out, and you could practically see the stars glimmering in his sea-swept irises. "Really?!"

"Of course," you giggled, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of his head. You shook the fabric out, then wrapped it around your shoulders, marveling at the way it fluttered around your ankles, lighter than silk. "Thank you, Sailor."

Wind's cheeks pinked, and he sputtered something but accepted your affections with a beaming smile. Until he perked up, noticing the bundle of fabric in your arms. "Wait, you haven't given your gift yet?"

You shook your head, feeling a bit sad despite the blatant cheer going around--Sky definitely deserved those new strings for his harp and Time was completely valid for grinning upon receiving new gauntlets from Twilight. "Ah, yeah-- It is."

"Then give it!"

A chuckle escaped you at Wind's insistence. You patted the Sailor's head. "I wish, buddy. He's not here yet."

Wind's brows furrowed as he scanned the group, expression becoming quizzical when he found that everyone was present. "But we're all here?"

"Not necessarily," you huffed, just as the others seemed to take note of the gift still in your arms.

Wild was the first to speak, brushing his bangs from his face with one hand while the other held the carved ladle set Sky had gifted him. "Wait, is that your gift? Who's it for?"

You scratched the back of your neck, knowing that the wait was up. "Uh... It's for Wolfie, but he's not here," you cast a cursory glance across the camp in case the furry baby was lurking somewhere among the bedrolls, but he was nowhere to be seen. "so I'm just hanging on to it until he shows up."

Silence, then Legend grumbled, pulling a sack of rupees from his pocket and chucking them at Twilight with a glare that could have killed a weaker man. "You fucking cheat, Rancher."

Right. They had made bets on this.

"Seriously, guys?" You asked incredulously as Wild and Hyrule forked over their own sacks to the Rancher, who looked curiously shocked. Didn't he say he hadn't participated? "Oh my H– how did you know!?"

"Ah didn't," responded Twilight, holding his spoils with a bewildered expression. Silently, Sky added a sack to the growing pile in the Rancher's arms. Time looked distinctly disappointed, but that could have just been his face. "Ah was jus' jokin'–"

"Joking or not, you fooled us," Legend huffed like the sore loser he was. "Man, I was sure it was Warriors."

"Me? Why?" The Captain raised a brow, his query flanked by your very baffled: "Him? Why?"

The Veteran scoffed, and you knew this was about to get good. Until he opened his mouth and you were instantly reminded of how much of a little shit Legend was. "Because you've been sneaking around him like a rat. I thought it was obvious."

You blinked. "A rat?!"

"OKay," Warriors interrupted before things could get ugly. "I'm sure there's some way we can get it to him. Speaking of," he glanced at your face, then the bundle, then back to your face. "What did you get Wolfie?"

Grinning, you unveiled the gift, revealing a long, thick bone. It was approximately the length of your forearm; lightly browned from the gentle steaming it had received a few days prior to enhance flavor.

"Woah," breathed Wild in reverence, and you were glad at least someone recognized the effort. Tracking down the best butcher in Hyrule while simultaneously being tailed by at least two heroes at any given moment was no easy feat, but you had done it, and, by god, were you proud. "I'm almost jealous."

"Well, now ah know 'e'll love it," Twilight said, looking equally impressed. "If ya give it ta me, I'll make sure 'e gets it, darl'."

"Are you sure? I can hang on to it–"

But the Rancher was already taking the bone from your grasp, and, really, was it the worst thing when, the very next morning, a very satisfied Wolfie rolled into camp, practically dropping into your lap like a fly, with your gift in his jaws?

I might rewrite this idea into another one of my fics, but enjoy this (very late) standalone for now! I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas (if you celebrate)!!

[kirby0strombolli]

★彡[ʙᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ - ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ]彡★

(p1)

Summary: Ben is in love with his best friend's sister. But he can't be with her like that. Word count: Just under 1.3k !! Warnings: Mentions of smoking, Light cursing! Just pure fluff :) A/n: Been wanting to write for Ben for a while! There are barely any Ben of the week fics!!

As she stumbled out of the bar, her laughter flickered like a neon sign.

Her flushed cheeks and lopsided smile lit up when her eyes met mine, as if she’d found what she’d been searching for.

“C’mon, let’s get you home,” I sighed, stepping closer and offering her my arm.

“No, I can’t drive!” she protested, throwing her hands up, only to lose her balance and fall right into my open arms.

I looked down at her, a small smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. Then, with an unimpressed raise of my eyebrow, I said, “I wasn’t asking you to.”

She squinted at me with mock seriousness, her head tilting slightly. “I’m not really drunk. I never get that… fucked up!” Her words tumbled over each other, betraying her claim.

“Uh-huh." I shrugged off my coat and gently draped it over her shoulders, the weight of it drawing a soft hum from her.

“I’m serious! I’m so sober!” she giggled, leaning into me with all the grace of a baby deer. Her head rested on my shoulder for a moment, and I felt her breath hitch before she exhaled softly, content.

Her fingers clutched at the edges of the coat, pulling it tighter around herself. “You’re warm,” she murmured, her voice quieter now, her defenses melting in the cool night air.

♪ I love to see you shine in the night

Like the diamond you are ♪

I subtly glanced down at her, trying to ignore the way her face glowed under the streetlight, soft and perfect, like it was carved just to make me lose my mind.

There she was, wrapped in my coat, her head resting lightly on my shoulder as we walked. Her warmth seeped through the fabric, and I was doing everything I could to ignore the way it made me feel.

Out of nowhere, she stopped and turned toward me. Before I could say anything, her arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a warm, unexpected hug.

I froze, my arms hovering awkwardly at my sides. What was she doing? Did she even know what she was doing?

“Thank you,” she mumbled against my chest, her voice muffled but sincere.

♪ Just hold me in the dark ♪

Slowly, cautiously, I let my arms fold around her, holding her close. It felt right—too right—and that’s what made it so wrong. She wasn’t just anyone; she was his sister. My best friend’s sister.

The unspoken rule had always been clear: stay away from her. She was off-limits, untouchable, someone I wasn’t even supposed to think about like this. But as I held her now, her warmth seeping into me, all I could think was how impossible it was to let go.

♪ No one’s gotta know what we doHit me up when you’re bored ♪

What if we didn’t tell anyone?

What if we didn’t have to?

The thought hit me like a whisper in the back of my mind, quiet but insistent. Memories stirred—ones I’d tried to forget but couldn’t.

The way she’d leaned in close during movie nights, her laughter brushing against my ear, making my pulse race. The late-night talks when everyone else was asleep, her voice soft, her eyes holding something unspoken.

And that time she’d reached out to fix my hair, her fingers grazing my forehead, lingering just a second too long.

I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want her. She was drunk. But with her in my arms now, it felt like the only thing I’d ever wanted.

Her breath was slow, steady, like she was just as caught in the moment as I was. Then, she pulled away slightly, her eyes wide and innocent, like she had no idea how much she was driving me crazy. 

Her lashes fluttered as she looked up at me, her face glowing softly in the streetlight. She was so damn pretty, the kind of pretty that made my heart pound in my chest and my hands feel shaky.

Her eyes drifted from mine, down to my lips, and I felt the pull of temptation shoot through me. God, I could kiss her right now.

"Ben?" she whispered, her voice soft and almost fragile, as if she knew what was on my mind.

She tilted her head slightly, her lips parting just enough for me to see the faintest hint of a smile.

The moment felt like it was stretching on forever, and I could already feel myself leaning in, my breath hitching. But before I could make the move, a voice broke through the thick air between us.

“Need a ride back, Ben?”

I flinched, my heart pounding even harder. Curtis. My best friend. My fucking roommate.

Her brother.

He stood there, eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at his lips. His gaze flicked between us, suspicion clear in his eyes. Shit.

That look should have been enough to stop me, to remind me why I couldn’t do this—why he would kill me if he ever found out. But in that moment, it didn’t matter.

I quickly looked back at her, just as she pulled away, her expression unreadable but soft. She didn’t say anything, but I could see the question in her eyes—What now?

Curtis broke the tension with a laugh. “What, you two gonna stand out here all night or are you gonna get in?”

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. Saying yes would be awkward—he’d definitely notice. But if I said no, I’d be stuck walking back in the freezing cold, alone. I glanced at her one last time, guilt flooding my chest.

She smiled softly, like she understood. It was too dangerous. But damn, I wanted to give in.

I let go of her, the coldness settling in as I turned to Curtis. “Nah, I’m good,” I shrugged, trying to sound casual. “I need to be somewhere.”

Curtis raised an eyebrow but didn’t push it. I turned back to her, giving her a tight smile. “Bye,” I said too quietly, watching her slide into the car. My stomach twisted.

As the car pulled away, I shoved my hands into my pockets and sighed, the cold air stinging my skin. My mind was racing. What just happened?

I couldn’t stop thinking about her—how she felt in my arms, the way she looked at me. Her smile made me feel like I could do anything, even though I knew it was wrong.

Then it started to rain. Hard. Of course, it did. The universe had perfect timing when it came to ruining my mood.

I kicked at the ground, irritated, my feet splashing through puddles as I walked. I couldn’t stop replaying the look she gave me. I should’ve kissed her.

I wanted to kiss her. I couldn’t keep pretending like I didn’t feel this pull towards her, no matter how wrong it felt.

I pulled out a blunt from my jacket, lighting it up without even thinking. Maybe it was a stupid move, but I didn’t care. I needed something to numb the frustration, the confusion. 

The smoke filled my lungs, and for a moment, everything felt hazy. The rain poured harder, but I didn’t care. I kept walking, letting the buzz take over, the cold now just a distant thing.

taglist: @lolastrniolo @sturniololuv08 @chrislilcumslvt @lonleyheartsclub @shadowthesim

(lmk if you wanna be added!)

sneaky part 2 coming up...

[thegreatyin]

And thus, with the passing of 24 hours, Caeru's ambition truly comes to an end. Major Nemesis spoilers below the cut- we're talking endgame ambition business here. Mostly on a character RP front.

The Doomed Scientist made quite a few... choice decisions, in the end. Killing Cups once and for all, recording his story as one of grief-

And sparing what little remained of Mr Mirrors, leaving it free to roam Parabola as it sees fit.

Some of them, he can explain. Others, he's still left to feel... discontent.

Cups needed to die. That much was certain from the start. It was a tyrant, as all Masters are, and complicit in the bargaining and eventual destruction of four (potentially five) cities, as all Masters are. It was an obstacle. A murderer. A petty monster that felt no remorse even on its deathbed, and it went out of its way to ruin multiple lives just because it felt owed its own sick and twisted idea of revenge.

It killed his first love. It looked him in the eyes and he knew what it had done and he knew from the start it was going to die.

Perhaps, in the end, it knew too. And yet it still pleaded, and wanted to live, and-

It made a bargain.

A bargain Caeru didn't take.

Not because he didn't want to. Gods, he wanted to. He wanted it. He wanted it more than anything else in the world. To have Greylu back, to give him the gift of life, of love, to show him the wonders of the Neath and the beauty of the correspondence and all of the people Caeru has met and loved and found home with along the way-

But. He couldn't.

Because Cups was a monster. And no matter what, it deserved to die. And he could not, in good conscience, allow it to live.

Even if sparing it meant everything he's ever wanted.

So he's left here, now. With a bloodied traveling coat, and a bloodsoaked knife, and a favor finally fulfilled.

And nothing to live for. No resurrected lover, no charming visits to Helicon, no slow dances in the living room, no memories to rebuild and lives to live and he won't live again-

Nothing. All he has is a coat born of obligation, not to his love, but to people he's never even met. To lives he's never even touched. To a paramour, still alive, with hair of rose-pink, who doesn't even remember her own brother's existence.

Cups didn't die for Caeru's sake. Cups died for the sake of all who wanted it dead. For the revenger's court, and the ghost screaming in his ear, and the reckoning that will not be postponed indefinitely.

And Caeru, who acted as a tool to carry out their wills? Who all but betrayed his own lover, just to satisfy a cause he never knew existed?

All Caeru is left with, is regret. Regret-

-And grief.

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Jason, especially in that one Teen Titans comic, often complains about the lack of pants he has. And I'm haunted thinking about that at all times

[skyburger]

WHAT THE HELL NOBODY EVER TOLD ME TWO OF MY FAVE VILLAGERS GOT A LINE STICKER TOGETHER. ive loved tabby for YEARS like since 2019 at LEAST. and these stickers are from 2018 how did i not know !!! i love tabby and boots so much 😭😭😭 TABBY AND BOOTS ANIMAL CROSSING I LOVE YOU SO MUCHHHHH OOMFS FOREVER AND EVER

[mleemwyvern]

thank you etho for giving us a video so much in the halloween spirit! decked out is a horror game

[chussyracing]

who was going to tell me there's a whole ass docu series about carlos sainz sr (known red bull driver) featuring an episode about carlos sainz jr signing for ferrari on a red bull streaming platform?!

[tim-official]

the current trend of "tumblr users embarrassing themselves by proudly announcing why they don't listen to any music made by black people" is really astounding.

i cannot help but think this is a direct result of liberal White Guilt and how people have interpreted "anti-racism" as form of cultural self-segregation - the kind of person who thinks trying to cook chicken curry is cultural appropriation, or sends white people anon hate for wearing a kimono (yes, this kind of discourse happened). like, "oh, no, i could never participate in this culture, i'd get my evil white hands all over it! it would be more Progressive if I only did White things."

if you're a poc you've seen this, i'm sure - this deer-in-the-headlights stare you can get from white people when you play music / show art / share a story / anything that is Racially Coded, this total refusal to actually engage with it out of fear that it is in some way Wrong for them to have any opinion on it. because they read somewhere that it's bad to use AAVE but the only lesson they actually learned from that is "gotcha, white people are not allowed to interact with other cultures as punishment for my White Crimes. this helps to fill up the gaping pit of my white guilt and makes me one of the Good People." this transforms their discomfort around non-white cultures (black culture, especially, i should add) into a kind of virtue

anyway if you are white and reading this. go listen to some fucking haliu mergia. ethiopian jazz. will knock your dick right off. go listen to rap or reggae or bollywood and have a genuine reaction to it - like, an actual, from-the-heart reaction. you are allowed to not like some of it. but you will definitely like at least a little. yes, you can compare it to lemon demon (or whatever) if that helps you get into it and that's your only point of reference. maybe don't say that part out loud. but don't, like, separate yourself from it, like you are seeing it in a museum and the only polite thing to do is go "ahh, huh, very interesting, so much culture here."

[arminsumi]

Betting your girl's mouth on a basketball game was crazy — and Suguru was all for it.

After taking a loss that may or may not have been deliberate, jock!Suguru wears a dirty grin on his face while watching you suck his best friends virgin cock like a good girl, loving the nasty wet noises you make while slurping up and down nerd!Satoru's pulsing shaft, slowly stroking himself to the sight of you on your knees, making cock disappear in your mouth like magic.

And Satoru — the poor boy — is losing his mind because he's never felt a woman's lips around his dummy big cock before. He used to tell you that sex is beneath him — now he's throwing his head back, gritting his pearly whites, curling his toes and biting his bottom lip 'till it's all red, totally surrendering to your little mouth — it's just so funny to you, 'cause he's been the know-it-all bastard telling you "... you're just Suguru's slut. If you paid as much attention in class as you did to my best friend's dick, maybe you'd amount to something. Do you even remember what we learned yesterday? Exactly. But I do — that's why I'm the top student and you're just — "

Bla bla bla... Satoru's now showing you how much precum his dummy big cock leaks — it's a sticky mess oozing out of his tip all over your quivering tongue. You looked up at him and winked, and he seethed inside because god he's hated you for so long but now your lips are wrapped around his cock and your mouth is taking him to heaven.

He's whining, biting into his fist, knees all wobbly. the texture of your tongue drives him nuts — then it clicks. oh, this is why my best friend is obsessed with his girlfriend. This is why he can't shut up and stop oversharing his sex life with me.

'Cause heaven really does exist on her tongue.

"fuck, slow down..." Satoru tries to ease his cock out your mouth, feeling his orgasm threatening to erupt at any moment.

But Suguru pushes you back down on his cock, filling your cheeks again, "nah, keep going baby, he's gonna cum — aren't you Satoru? You're gonna cum in my girl's mouth, huh? Come on, big boy, I know how long you've wanted this. Fill this little slut's mouth with your cum."

Those taunting words push him over the edge. His heavy balls tighten up as he feels you suckling his swollen head, and then white ropes come bursting out.

"Ahh—gh! Fuck... nn!"

Satoru's legs give out and he moans like you've never heard a man moan before, releasing all the cum he's worked up for you like he's been waiting years to do this. Actually, he has been waiting years — waiting patiently to find an opportunity to make your jaw ache and eyes well up with tears.

"Baby, you gonna swallow my best friend's cum f'me?" Suguru encourages, stroking his cock lazily against your cheek now.

He watches you compliantly swallow Satoru's seed, and Satoru twitches at the sight.

Huffing, Satoru comes down from his high and brushes his white wispy bangs out of his eyes. He's glaring down at your mouth.

"... still fucking hate you... " Satoru mutters to you in a voice still shaky with the after-effects of his orgasm.

"I still hate you, too." you smile back at him.

His heart flutters and bottom lip twitches. He can't stop staring at your lips, your eyes, your hips, your thighs.

"Ah, Satoru, quit your act — you're the one who proposed this idea in the first place."

You went red in the face. It was Satoru's idea? The mister goody-two-shoes, know-it-all, all A+++ report cards, 'sex is beneath me' Satoru?

"Huh? I thought this was your idea..." but before you can express your surprise you're already feeling Suguru nudge his cockhead against your lips.

"Sh sh, now it's my turn, baby. Open wide."

[mommynott]

Thin Ice

Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Your friends drag you to a hockey game, but halfway through you lock eyes with Theo. You can’t help but feel a strong pull toward him. Deciding to shoot your shot with the player.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, Chars 18+, Hockey AU, flirting, tons of tension, explicit language, hockey!theo, dom!theo

A/N: Starting this series for my babe @amiableness I hope you enjoy it because this is just the start! Also BIG shoutout to my girl @westcanaan82 for the hockey!theo render. Definitely go Check out her page because she makes me DROOOOL

The arena was packed, and the noise was overwhelming as you sat in your seat, begrudgingly dragged there by your friends. You were scrolling through your phone, totally uninterested in the game unfolding before you.

But then… it seemed out of nowhere. A tall and muscular figure on the ice caught your attention. Fuck he’s hot. It was player number 13, Theo, whose piercing eyes were fixed on you through his helmet.

You felt a smirk growing on your lips before he nodded his head up at you and skated along the ice. Shuffling a puck with his hockey stick with ease. The game going on. Fuck maybe this game isn’t too boring. You held your phone in your hand but your gaze settled on him on the ice. Suddenly gaining an interest in this sport.

After he shot a puck into the goal he pumped his fist in the air but you swore he looked over at you. Throwing you a flirty wink. And trust me, he fucking did. At this point, Theodore was trying to show off for you. Hoping he would get your attention. Craving your attention.

The game ended, and his team had won the match. But after all the eyefucking you two did you wanted to stay back in hopes to see that same player. “I’ll catch up with you guys later!” Your friends gave you a knowing look while they walked out. You slowly moved around the now quiet arena.

A few minutes later, you started to feel defeated, thinking he must’ve left but that’s when you heard a low and deep Italian accent. “I noticed you in the crowd…Seemed to be pretty glued to that phone of yours.”

Bright cherry red painted across your cheeks as you turned around. Quickly tucking your phone away in your purse, you gave the hockey player a small sheepish smile. “Uh…Yeah, sorry…It’s just not really my thing I guess.”

But when your gaze settled upon the player, he wasn’t in the same gear from on the ice. Oh no. he was now in a tight under-armor top, showing off his muscular and toned torso along with a pair of black sweatpants. Freshly out of the shower, his brown locks clung to his forehead. The smell of his body wash was rich and intoxicating as it wafted all around you. Fuck me.

“Not your thing, huh? What is your thing then?”

Theo asked, his taunting tone hinting with flirtatiousness. Feeling the way your heart skipped from his words. His deep voice. Fucking hell. You hesitated for a moment, your fingers anxiously playing with the rings you wore. “I don’t know…Reading…Movies.”

Replying to the Italian, he ran a hand through his wavy hair, slicking it back and giving you a charming smile. “A reader. Interesting….” Theodore said in the same teasing tone before sticking out his hand and you matched him, giving your own and shaking it. The second your hands met, a spark pulsated through your body.

“Nott. Theodore Nott. But you can call me Theo, Cara.”

The charming accent rolled off his tongue smoothly as you both exchanged names. You crossed your arms over your chest, shifting your weight to one leg. Bringing your confidence out. Something you always had. “Anyways…What’s interesting about me reading?” You asked, giving him a bratty little grin.

Theo cocked an eyebrow, scoffing under his breath as he took a step before you. Eyeing you up and down fully. “Ah, I’m not sure. Just interesting…What do you like to read?” He questioned as he casually leaned closer toward you.

You tried to focus but his voice, his words were so smooth it sent little shivers down your spine. "Umm… mostly romance— Stuff like that." You mentally chastised yourself for sounding so fucking cliche. He seemed very interested in you…Maybe even so much so that you could get some hockey player action.

Theo gave you a lazy smile and your heart fluttered, feeling the tension building between you both. "Romance, huh? That’s fitting." You raised an eyebrow, confused. What the fuck was he on about? “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, leaning even closer towards you. “You look like the romantic type….Soft…sweet— Y’know?.” Your cheeks burned again. Was he flirting with you? This couldn’t possibly be real. This was something out of the novels you’d read.

“Oh— Thanks I guess?” A sea of giggles freed from your lush lips. The same ones Theo’s eyes were burning into now. He stalked toward you as you walked back until you were pinned against the white brick wall of the ice rink.

He carefully took a strand of your hair, wrapping it around his pointer finger while his tongue poked the inside of his cheek. “Can I get the pretty girl's number, hm?” He asked, remaining not only charming but… cocky. Drawing you to him even more.

It seemed that your confidence exuded his own to creep out. But fuck did you like it. A confident man like this? Damn. “Huh…I’m not sure. Can you?” Teasing him right back you subtly bit your lower lip to fight back the giggles that wanted to escape from within.

“Fuckin’ tease. Isn’t that right?”

Theodore now pinned both of his hands above your head, practically towering over your tiny frame. “Perhaps just a little bit…” Breathing out your words, your gaze danced along with his ocean eyes. Feeling your heart thump hard against your chest.

“I like a tease…A challenge…” His tone now held something of mischief, giving him a different vibe. And fuck, your whole body was fucking feeling it. “Yeah?” You asked, bringing out more of your sultry tone, keeping your lips slightly parted as you glanced down to his own.

That was it. Theo was going to come in hot. Make his move. Smash his lips to yours. But just as he was millimeters away from ravishing you a loud shout was heard. “—Nott! Back in the locker room!” His fucking coach. What a cock block. Theo rolled his eyes and cursed in Italian under his breath.

“We aren’t finished here…” He replied to you lowly, throwing up his pointer finger to his coach. He reached into his pocket. Pulling out a pen and taking your arm. Feeling the tickle of his scribbling, He wrote something on it as you sat there dumbfounded.

Once he was done, you scanned over your forearm. In sloppy handwriting was written his number followed by “Text me, Tesoro ;)” giggling at his little winky face as you nodded your head.

With that, he walked off with his coach to the locker room. That night you got home thinking of everything and anything that could have happened if his damn trainer didn’t interrupt you two. That’s when you decided to send him a flirty yet risky text…

Ahhhh the start of hockey!theo 🏒🥅⛸️

Really hope y’all enjoyed im too excited to continue on with this au! ATP I have so many and STILL have some In the back of my mind help lol

As always asks and requests are open my sweet peas 💋

Divider pinned in my masterlist🌙

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

i watched My Neighbor Totoro for the first time, here's my chronological viewing experience:

woo-hoo! dusty old japanese house with japanese architectural details aplenty

these kids got some ENERGY my goodness

family dynamic's adorable. peak quality dad humor

kids: our house is haunted. parents: that's so cool!

hell yeah, wrinkled old lady rep. we need more friendly old women with potato faces and warts like storybook witches. the backbone of society, these ladies

Plot Summary: Small Child Bothers Local Wildlife

sacred tree sacred tree sacred tree

Introducing Totoro! nobody said this fucker's got TEETH???

Uh-Oh! Inadequate Parental Supervision Detected

(you misplaced your four year old! you're not supposed to do that)

4-year-old: i met a magic forest spirit. dad: oh shit fr?

4-year-old: *angrily hugs sister* missed u bitch

this small child has a smile like a toad. like a really really cute toad. like the cutest toad in all existence. i love her she's perfection please just let this child be happy

rice paddies are so pretty....so back breaking....rice is such a prissy crop

*my crush is stranded in a rainstorm* takethisumbrellait'syoursnowBYE *runs away in panic im so good at flirting*

Giant Chinchilla Learns To Hold Umbrella, Is Fucking Delighted By Experience

take this, it will help you on your quest! *hands u trail mix wrapped in a leaf*

LO-FI HIP HOP STUDY LIST!

crouching down to peer at dirt--A++ top notch foundational childhood experience

mom has a big ass forehead

honey! the chinchillas are performing Rituals in the backyard again

help yeah let's jack and the bean stalk this shit

huh so we're all just climbing aboard the giant chinchilla's tiddies now ok

class trip!

the pure adrenaline of Vegetable Gardening

no! the small child is crying! she is bawling her eyes out. no no no. i can't cope with this. emotionally i cannot cope 🥺🥺🥺

i've only had Mei one hour but if anything happens to her i will raze this earth and everyone on it

please someone make this small child smile again

oh no the tall child is crying too

i can't take this. my heart can't take this.

i need a drink

small child running determined to deliver magic veggies to the hospital. this kid is my hero

she is also unsupervised. so, so unsupervised

babe you are FOUR

godDAMMIT ghibli, you cannot give me watercolor sunsets while a small child is missing. u are killing me. my heart is giving out. this is me, experiencing heart failure.

Totoro to the rescue!

no wait CATBUS to the rescue!

i admit i initially thought the cat was a creep. alice in wonderland prejudiced me. i have revised my notions of smiling cats

i've decided the cat is a metaphor for the magic of a robust public transport system

MEI'S OKAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and so is mom. she's a lovely lady im sorry for what i said about her forehead. it's a noble forehead.

happy ending YES bitch!!!!!!

ok. ok ok ok. that was magical.

(as a first-time adult viewer i was worried i wouldn't be able to Access the Magic. but i could and i did and it was incredible. that was culture. that was ART. joy distilled into animated form. holy rites of childhood. i understand now. how glorious, this world we grow out of. how full of marvels. i'm going outside to smell grass and sun and get dirt under my fingernails. miraculous.)

[bookishdiplodocus]

The Neurodivergent Writer’s Guide to Fun and Productivity

(Even when life beats you down)

Look, I’m a mom, I have ADHD, I’m a spoonie. To say that I don’t have heaps of energy to spare and I struggle with consistency is an understatement. For years, I tried to write consistently, but I couldn’t manage to keep up with habits I built and deadlines I set.

So fuck neurodivergent guides on building habits, fuck “eat the frog first”, fuck “it’s all in the grind”, and fuck “you just need time management”—here is how I manage to write often and a lot.

Focus on having fun, not on the outcome

This was the groundwork I had to lay before I could even start my streak. At an online writing conference, someone said: “If you push yourself and meet your goals, and you publish your book, but you haven’t enjoyed the process… What’s the point?” and hoo boy, that question hit me like a truck.

I was so caught up in the narrative of “You’ve got to show up for what’s important” and “Push through if you really want to get it done”. For a few years, I used to read all these productivity books about grinding your way to success, and along the way I started using the same language as they did. And I notice a lot of you do so, too.

But your brain doesn’t like to grind. No-one’s brain does, and especially no neurodivergent brain. If having to write gives you stress or if you put pressure on yourself for not writing (enough), your brain’s going to say: “Huh. Writing gives us stress, we’re going to try to avoid it in the future.”

So before I could even try to write regularly, I needed to teach my brain once again that writing is fun. I switched from countable goals like words or time to non-countable goals like “fun” and “flow”.

Rewire my brain: writing is fun and I’m good at it

I used everything I knew about neuroscience, psychology, and social sciences. These are some of the things I did before and during a writing session. Usually not all at once, and after a while I didn’t need these strategies anymore, although I sometimes go back to them when necessary.

I journalled all the negative thoughts I had around writing and try to reason them away, using arguments I knew in my heart were true. (The last part is the crux.) Imagine being supportive to a writer friend with crippling insecurities, only the friend is you.

Not setting any goals didn’t work for me—I still nurtured unwanted expectations. So I did set goals, but made them non-countable, like “have fun”, “get in the flow”, or “write”. Did I write? Yes. Success! Your brain doesn’t actually care about how high the goal is, it cares about meeting whatever goal you set.

I didn’t even track how many words I wrote. Not relevant.

I set an alarm for a short time (like 10 minutes) and forbade myself to exceed that time. The idea was that if I write until I run out of mojo, my brain learns that writing drains the mojo. If I write for 10 minutes and have fun, my brain learns that writing is fun and wants to do it again.

Reinforce the fact that writing makes you happy by rewarding your brain immediately afterwards. You know what works best for you: a walk, a golden sticker, chocolate, cuddle your dog, whatever makes you happy.

I conditioned myself to associate writing with specific stimuli: that album, that smell, that tea, that place. Any stimulus can work, so pick one you like. I consciously chose several stimuli so I could switch them up, and the conditioning stays active as long as I don’t muddle it with other associations.

Use a ritual to signal to your brain that Writing Time is about to begin to get into the zone easier and faster. I guess this is a kind of conditioning as well? Meditation, music, lighting a candle… Pick your stimulus and stick with it.

Specifically for rewiring my brain, I started a new WIP that had no emotional connotations attached to it, nor any pressure to get finished or, heaven forbid, meet quality norms. I don’t think these techniques above would have worked as well if I had applied them on writing my novel.

It wasn’t until I could confidently say I enjoyed writing again, that I could start building up a consistent habit. No more pushing myself.

I lowered my definition for success

When I say that nowadays I write every day, that’s literally it. I don’t set out to write 1,000 or 500 or 10 words every day (tried it, failed to keep up with it every time)—the only marker for success when it comes to my streak is to write at least one word, even on the days when my brain goes “naaahhh”. On those days, it suffices to send myself a text with a few keywords or a snippet. It’s not “success on a technicality (derogatory)”, because most of those snippets and ideas get used in actual stories later. And if they don’t, they don’t. It’s still writing. No writing is ever wasted.

A side note on high expectations, imposter syndrome, and perfectionism

Obviously, “Setting a ridiculously low goal” isn’t something I invented. I actually got it from those productivity books, only I never got it to work. I used to tell myself: “It’s okay if I don’t write for an hour, because my goal is to write for 20 minutes and if I happen to keep going for, say, an hour, that’s a bonus.” Right? So I set the goal for 20 minutes, wrote for 35 minutes, and instead of feeling like I exceeded my goal, I felt disappointed because apparently I was still hoping for the bonus scenario to happen. I didn’t know how to set a goal so low and believe it.

I think the trick to making it work this time lies more in the groundwork of training my brain to enjoy writing again than in the fact that my daily goal is ridiculously low. I believe I’m a writer, because I prove it to myself every day. Every success I hit reinforces the idea that I’m a writer. It’s an extra ward against imposter syndrome.

Knowing that I can still come up with a few lines of dialogue on the Really Bad Days—days when I struggle to brush my teeth, the day when I had a panic attack in the supermarket, or the day my kid got hit by a car—teaches me that I can write on the mere Bad-ish Days.

The more I do it, the more I do it

The irony is that setting a ridiculously low goal almost immediately led to writing more and more often. The most difficult step is to start a new habit. After just a few weeks, I noticed that I needed less time and energy to get into the zone. I no longer needed all the strategies I listed above.

Another perk I noticed, was an increased writing speed. After just a few months of writing every day, my average speed went from 600 words per hour to 1,500 wph, regularly exceeding 2,000 wph without any loss of quality.

Talking about quality: I could see myself becoming a better writer with every passing month. Writing better dialogue, interiority, chemistry, humour, descriptions, whatever: they all improved noticeably, and I wasn’t a bad writer to begin with.

The increased speed means I get more done with the same amount of energy spent. I used to write around 2,000-5,000 words per month, some months none at all. Nowadays I effortlessly write 30,000 words per month. I didn’t set out to write more, it’s just a nice perk.

Look, I’m not saying you should write every day if it doesn’t work for you. My point is: the more often you write, the easier it will be.

No pressure

Yes, I’m still working on my novel, but I’m not racing through it. I produce two or three chapters per month, and the rest of my time goes to short stories my brain keeps projecting on the inside of my eyelids when I’m trying to sleep. I might as well write them down, right?

These short stories started out as self-indulgence, and even now that I take them more seriously, they are still just for me. I don’t intend to ever publish them, no-one will ever read them, they can suck if they suck. The unintended consequence was that my short stories are some of my best writing, because there’s no pressure, it’s pure fun.

Does it make sense to spend, say, 90% of my output on stories no-one else will ever read? Wouldn’t it be better to spend all that creative energy and time on my novel? Well, yes. If you find the magic trick, let me know, because I haven’t found it yet. The short stories don’t cannibalize on the novel, because they require different mindsets. If I stopped writing the short stories, I wouldn’t produce more chapters. (I tried. Maybe in the future? Fingers crossed.)

Don’t wait for inspiration to hit

There’s a quote by Picasso: “Inspiration hits, but it has to find you working.” I strongly agree. Writing is not some mystical, muse-y gift, it’s a skill and inspiration does exist, but usually it’s brought on by doing the work. So just get started and inspiration will come to you.

Accountability and community

Having social factors in your toolbox is invaluable. I have an offline writing friend I take long walks with, I host a monthly writing club on Discord, and I have another group on Discord that holds me accountable every day. They all motivate me in different ways and it’s such a nice thing to share my successes with people who truly understand how hard it can be.

The productivity books taught me that if you want to make a big change in your life or attitude, surrounding yourself with people who already embody your ideal or your goal huuuugely helps. The fact that I have these productive people around me who also prioritize writing, makes it easier for me to stick to my own priorities.

Your toolbox

The idea is to have several techniques at your disposal to help you stay consistent. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket by focussing on just one technique. Keep all of them close, and if one stops working or doesn’t inspire you today, pivot and pick another one.

After a while, most “tools” run in the background once they are established. Things like surrounding myself with my writing friends, keeping up with my daily streak, and listening to the album I conditioned myself with don’t require any energy, and they still remain hugely beneficial.

Do you have any other techniques? I’d love to hear about them!

I hope this was useful. Happy writing!

[screampied]

❛ 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?”