#was it something he maybe learned from his mother?

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Shameless

Tags: dad!Toji x fem!reader, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, breeding kink, he calls himself daddy

Synopsis: You’re Toji’s live-in nanny. He wants to breed you, and he successfully does so.

An: This is my story on ao3!! You can read it here. If you’re feeling extra nice, a kudos would be cool too.

Being a single dad was hard. Toji learned quickly after his wife's death that he in fact couldn't do this alone. The way little Megumi's big eyes looked up to him for direction... him of all people. He was not cut out for this. Megumi's mom was a wonderful mother: sweet, nurturing, and patient. Toji really didn't know if he was any of those things.

Luckily, her life insurance provided Toji with a relatively comfortable life combined with his job in construction of course. Construction might be his vice. He got away from home for 12 hours a day, and he worked so hard that his brain was mush by the time he was home. Not that he didn't love his son, he did, but every time he looked at Megumi he saw his sweet late wife. He also saw his short comings as a father.

Babysitters quit on him regularly. It was always the same excuse. "Megumi's an angel, but I can't be here 7 days a week. I have a life too." It was incredibly annoying. They'd stay for Megumi but left due to another one of his shortcomings.

Another one quit. That would be the third one this month. "Listen Mr. Fushiguro, I know a friend. She does this sort of thing on a different level. Have you ever considered having a live-in nanny?"

That stupid girl's question enlightened Toji. He had completely forgotten that live-in nannies still existed. After getting her friend's number and paying her what he owed her for her time, Toji relaxed on the couch with little Megumi tucked into his side. The three-year-old was happily babbling next to him, enamored by Toji's phone that was in his hand.

Toji looked at the number dialed into his phone, and he sighed. He was tired of making cold calls to potential babysitters like he was some desperate whore, but maybe, maybe this would be different. He wouldn't mind having a live-in nanny. His house wouldn't mind it either. Toji would be able to finally breathe. No more coming home from 12 hour shifts to pop something to eat in the microwave and wash the dishes. He wouldn't even have to see this so-called nanny often. He could pick up more hours at work with all of his new freedom of not having to worry about pissing off the babysitter.

*** *** ***

Either way, that's how you ended up in Toji's house. For the past three months you had taken care of Megumi, cleaned and deep cleaned his entire house, cooked him plenty of dinners from scratch, and even did his laundry the exact way he preferred. His house has never looked better, and Megumi had never looked so happy.

Despite being here for three months, you barely saw Toji. He seemed to avoid you like the plague and only answer with one-worded answers, which was fine. This was your job, not your actual family. There was no need for extensive communications. Though, you had gushed to your friend plenty over text about how hot "Mr. Fushiguro" was. He was conventionally attractive, yes. But you also always had a thing for the brooding types, and dammit, Toji was brooding. There was also something to be said about how he came home in the evenings. A black wifebeater clinging to his skin from a long day of working out in the sun. His jeans would be dirty from the work he was doing. His skin glistening from a thin sheen of sweat. His hair was always a mess. Goddammit. It was enough to make you feel fertile.

It was early in the morning, Toji was getting ready to go to work. Megumi had woken up, crying for his papa not to leave him. He's going through an extra clingy phase. He's usually okay once Toji's gone.

"Papa!" Megumi cried as Toji entered the living room. You had Megumi in your lap, rocking him with a sleepy look on your face. His tears were wetting your shirt, but you didn't seem to mind.

"He'll be back tonight, Gumi." You shooshed him and continued to try to rock him and pat his back.

Toji's face was unreadable. He was never one to get all upset over Megumi's crying, but hearing his son cry out for him tugged on his heartstrings extra this morning. Then, there was you. You were a godsend to Toji's life. Getting a live-in nanny was one of the best decisions he had ever made. Above that, you were excellent with Megumi. You were sweet... nurturing... patient. He hated how seeing you with his son made him feel. It almost felt like maybe 2 kids wouldn't be that big of a deal. Maybe 3. One on each of your legs and another one swelling in your belly. God. He was disgusted in himself for thinking like that.

"I love you, kiddo." Toji said quickly as he leaned down, giving Megumi's forehead a quick peck. The toddler made grabby hands for him. It was almost enough to make him stay home. Almost. Toji's eyes met yours as he was still leaned over. His face was close to yours. The tension between them were palpable. The moment felt like eternity between them.

Then, a black credit card was in view. "I need new work gloves. Get the extra thick rubber ones, will ya? Also, get whatever you and the kid want. I'll be back late tonight." He handed you the card and sauntered out of the house despite Megumi's pleas for him to stay. You looked at the Amex black card and blinked a couple of times. Only the top earners in the world had cards like this. Toji was just an average blue collar dad... It made you wonder how he got a card like this.

You still spent that shit though.

*** *** ***

Toji looked at his phone on the jobsite. No one dared to tell him to put it away. Toji was the best most competent worker out on the field. He could work circles around supervisors and project managers alike, and he was damn smart. He didn't need a pencil and paper or a calculator to make quick conversions in his head. So, most people stayed out of his way.

He smirked and chuckled at the notifications rolling in from his bank. 78.97 at Target. 21.25 at McDonald's. 43.52 at Barnes and Noble. 9.24 at Starbucks. He was happy you and Megumi were getting to have a little shopping spree.

You were also great at keeping him updated. You sent him lots of pictures and videos of Megumi. He cherished each one of them, immediately getting some of them printed and hung up in his house. There was even a picture of you and Megumi proudly displayed in the living room. In his mind, you were an integral part of the family. The "family" simply would not function if it weren't for you.

A fond smile spread across his face as he opened his messages. A picture of Megumi's little hands trying to fit into his new gloves that she had bought him. Great. She got the right ones. "I think he wants to be just like daddy :)", the message read.

Oh.

Oh.

The twitch that just occurred in his pants should be punishable in a court of law. In no way should he have gotten turned on by that. You were just being nice. It was a normal thing for people to refer to him as "daddy" in that context. It never affected him in the way it was right now.

So anyways, that's how he ended up in the port-a-potty busting a load all over a picture of you that he had on his phone. After the shock of his orgasm that came quicker than ever, he looked down, disappointed in himself. He wasn't some horny teenage boy anymore. This was just downright deplorable. Begrudgingly, he wiped his phone clean from his sins. Post-nut clarity swirled his brain. He couldn't believe he just did that.

He called your number. He had to make things right.

"Hello? Is everything okay?" You immediately asked. After living with Toji for some time now, you learned that he doesn't just call people. He will absolutely decline a call to just text and ask what's up.

"Everything is fine." He replied, trying to hide his amusement. It was cute that you seemed so worried for him. "Are you still in town?"

"Yeah, Megumi and I are about to leave Starbucks and head home. Why? What's up?" You responded back to him. He could hear Megumi happily singing a song in the background.

"You know you spent 152 dollars today?" Toji asked as he popped his back up against the port-a-potty door. He had a lazy smirk on his face.

"Oh- crap. I'm sorry. You can take whatever you see fit out of my pay-" He interrupted your nonsense quickly.

"Do you think I'm poor?" His voice was amused, not angry like you expected it to be.

"What-? No.. no, sir. I was just-"

"I told you to get whatever you and the kid want. Don't come back home until your certain that you can't carry the amount of stuff you bought in one trip." He said quickly. His stomach was already coiling from how you called him sir. He grimaced as he felt another twitch. I just took care of you dammit.

"Oh... oh, okay? Are you su-" Click. He hung up on you. One too many dumb questions. You looked at Megumi as he strapped into the backseat of your car. He looked intrigued by the conversation even though you knew he realistically had no idea what was just said. "Daddy said we have to go to the toy store." You grinned at him. He was smiling and clapping over the word "toy".

234.22 at Toys-R-Us. 122.56 at Lego. 208.38 at Aerie. 88.21 at Ulta Beauty. Another 94.48 at Barnes and Noble.

The way Toji grinned each time he felt that familiar vibration of his phone go off, meaning another notification from his bank was off-putting. Workers on the jobsite never seen him so happy. It was his penance for being such a horny freaky fuck.

*** *** ***

It was later that same evening. Megumi was in the living room surrounded by toys and crafting materials. He was currently drawing all sorts of "shadow animals" as he called them. You would of course look and nod your head, congratulating him on each terribly drawn animal. You acted like that was the best damn wolf-bear-owl hybrid you ever saw.

You were in the kitchen cooking chicken and dumplings. The clock on the stove read seven p.m. You didn't expect to see Toji at all this evening. He said he was working late this morning. Usually, that meant he was dragging his feet in through the door until well past ten p.m.

Still, you made him a serving of chicken and dumpling soup. You always did. Even when he worked late, you would put him a helping of dinner in the microwave to keep warm. You never knew, but he was always delighted by that. He ate the dinners each time.

A key jingling in the door handle caught your attention while you were getting Megumi settled at the dining room table. Three-year-olds were so hard to manage: too small to eat by themselves but too big to be locked in a high chair.

Toji stepped into the living room with a small grunt. He smirked as he looked around at his destroyed living room. Toys, crayons, and pieces of "artwork" were strewn all about the place. He glanced up towards you and Megumi in the kitchen. He took note of how your face was flushed and surprised.

"Papa!" Megumi happily shouted before the little bastard ran from your grasp to go hug on Toji's legs. His dad smiled as he looked down at Megumi, and he used his hand to mess up Megumi's hair affectionately.

"Go eat your food, kiddo." Toji said warmly to his son. Megumi happily obliged and ran right back to his seat right next to you, and you fed him a spoonful of the soup.

"You're home early." You stated the obvious.

Toji would never tell you, but he left early because he missed you two.

"Don't sound too happy to see me." He remarked in a sarcastic tone.

"What-? No, I just.. would've cleaned up more had I known you would be home so soon..." You responded. Megumi was sitting beside you whining for another bite of food. You snapped out of your surprise, and you fed him another bite of chicken and dumplings.

"Why? I don't give a damn what this place looks like." Toji said with a small nonchalant shrug. He walked through the living room, carefully stepping over the toys. Before you had become his nanny, this was how his house normally looked: messy, lived in. "I've got a bowl of dinner in the microwave. My kid's happy and fed. I couldn't care less what that living room looks like."

Your heart fluttered at the sentiment. Toji was easy to please. He really just wanted what was best for his kid, and that was you. "I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." You replied. He looked at you with an unreadable expression. It looked like he might've wanted to say something, but he had backed out last minute. He hummed and walked towards his bedroom to shower the dirt, sweat, and grime from the day.

While Toji showered, you had finished feeding Megumi and yourself. You allowed Megumi to have about an hour of TV time before bed. He really enjoyed old X-Men cartoons. You turned them on for him and parked him on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket.

You hummed softly as you worked in the kitchen. You packed meal prep containers of soup for Toji to take for lunch for the next couple of days. Then, you were washing dishes in front of the sink.

*** *** ***

"I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." Your words repeated in Toji's head over and over like a mantra. He hadn't felt so... cared for in a long, long time. It made his heart feel full, which was an unfamiliar feeling for him. A less unfamiliar feeling was his dick standing fully erect and at attention. He groaned quietly as he leaned his head back in the shower.

Something had to be in the air recently. He was a grown man with desires, sure. But this was a new record for him. Ever since you started being a live-in nanny for him, the boners were a daily thing. Hell, twice or three times a day sometimes. He's tried everything... Well, okay, maybe not everything, but he's tried cold showers and staying away from you. Neither of those things work to soothe him.

His hand was gliding up and down his length for the second time today. He was facing the shower wall with his arm propped up on it, supporting his head. Damn you for making him feel like a slave to his desires. You wanted to make sure he had nothing to worry about? Then, you should be the one in here fixing this damn mess, not him. He pitifully rutted into his hand, imaging he's plunging deep into you. Imagining the multiple ways he'd fuck the hell out of you is the only thing that soothes the ache, but this time he didn't see an end in sight.

He gritted his teeth together, and he balled up his fist, rearing back before stopping himself. He's not a teenager anymore. He can't punch walls. He took a deep breath and turned the shower off. No, this won't do. He needs to fix this at the source.

After quickly drying off and getting dressed, he walked back into the kitchen. His eyes scanned over the house. Megumi was enthralled by the TV, and you were washing dishes. Perfect.

He slowly approached you from behind. He could tell you didn't hear him as you were still softly humming. Usually, you would stop humming if he entered the kitchen. He never understood why. The sounds of your melancholic hums were beautiful and soothing to him.

He was directly behind you, and his hands gently cupped your hips. You immediately flinched and made a soft scream that was quickly silenced by one of his hands. "Shh, we don't want to disturb the little brat, do we?" Toji said into your ear. His warm breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, making you shiver.

Toji's eyes flicked over towards the living room. Megumi hadn't moved an inch. Perfect.

Toji slowly released your mouth. To his delight, you didn't make a sound. He could hear how your breath was slightly labored from him scaring you. A small chuckle rose from his throat. His hands went back to your hips, and he pressed himself against your voluptuous ass. A hum of approval escaped him. He could see your hands gripping the countertops.

"Nod your head. You like this? Want me to keep pressing myself against you?" Toji whispered into your ear. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, and you nodded your head eagerly, giving him consent.

"Dirty fucking girl." His voice was like a growl in your ear as he started to move his hips, dragging his length up and down along you. You could feel each inch of his length beckoning for you. "I knew you'd take whatever I gave you, but this? Letting me grind against you like a pathetic teenager while my son is in the living room? You're such a fucking slut." His hands were digging into your hips as he continued his controlled motions.

"Mnn.. fuck.." You softly whimpered out. Thank god the X-Men were currently in a loud fight scene.

You slightly frowned as you suddenly didn't feel Toji behind you anymore. You were about to turn around and ask what he was doing, but his fingers curling into the waistband of your leggings told you everything you needed to know. "Toji-" You managed to whisper out. No way could you two do this while Megumi was in the next room over.

"Shut up." Toji interrupted you. He had taken his throbbing length out of his sleeping pants, and he had a look of concentration on his face as he angled himself right at your entrance. "You have no fucking idea how long I've needed this. So just be a good girl, shut up, and take what I give you."

Direct orders from your boss. Who were you to deny the man who just spoiled you all day today?

It was a tight fit. Toji wasn't a gentleman. He didn't prep you with his fingers or mouth. This wasn't love making. It was hardly fucking. This was fulfilling a need.

"God... fuck. I didn't expect you to be that tight." He growled into your neck as he held your hips still against him. It felt like he was splitting you apart. You couldn't even respond to him.

He noticed how tightly you were gripping the counter and how you weren't responding to him. Your knuckles were turning white. He almost felt guilty. His hand came around the front of you, and he gently rubbed the swollen bundle of nerves. "Shhh... You can take it. I know you can." He whispered into your ear as it was taking every last shred of self-restraint not to fuck you into oblivion right on this counter. He slowly pulled back until just his tip was inside, and he pushed all the way back in. "That's it. There's my good girl." He praised in your ear. It was not lost on him that he felt you get wetter with each praise.

He hesitated, but he said it anyway, "You wanna be a good girl for daddy, don't you?" He whispered into your ear. That phrase made you tremble in his arms and nod your head. He slowly pulled back out and pushed right back in, taking you slowly. "That's right... hngh, fuck." He moaned into your ear. "You want to be fucked by daddy. You want to take his cock like a good girl. Take it." His hips started to move with more conviction.

You were already so out of it. This was like a dirty fantasy come true. You couldn't help but check the TV a few times to make sure X-Men was still playing. You were still worried that Megumi might run in here for whatever reason and see you bent over in front of his dad. You knew it was unlikely. Megumi could watch that TV like a zombie all day if you let him. Besides, you would be able to hear the small pitter-patter of his footsteps.

"Stop looking at the fucking TV. Trust me." Toji growled into your ear as he forced your hips down onto him roughly. A noiseless gasp escaped you. He wasn't small, and he knew that. He was using it to his advantage.

"Fuck." He groaned quietly as he rubbed you with a bit more fervor. You could already feel that familiar warm feeling coiling in your stomach. "I'm going to fuck a baby into you. You were fucking made for this. Made for raising my kids and taking my fucking load." He was spewing nonsense into your ear, but in the moment, you couldn't help but nod and moan. "You were made for me." He proclaimed as his hips continued harshly snapping into your backside. Somehow the sounds were masked.

"You want that, don't you?" He asked as he bit down on your neck then lapped at the bite mark with his tongue.

"Yes, daddy!" You quietly exclaimed. His thrusts only increased in power. Your eyes started to cross, getting lost in pleasure.

"Fuck. You're gonna look so perfect pregnant with my baby. I won't let you have a break. As soon as one comes out; I'm puttin' another one in you." He continued on yapping about how many kids he was going to pump into you. "I'll breed you again and again." His thrusts were heavy and brutal. You couldn't take it anymore.

He moaned as he felt you clenching around him, finishing all over his cock. It was enough to drive him overboard. He pumped you full of cum until you were sure some of it was seeping out.

There was a peaceful moment of dizzy highness for you two. Toji panted against your back. For the first time in while, he's felt satisfied. A soft amused laugh escaped him as he heard the iconic X-Men episode coming to an end. He swiftly pulled out of you, and he tried to ignore that little whimper of protest you let out. He tucked himself back into his pants, and he pulled your leggings and panties back up for you since you were still a trembling mess over the counter.

"Alright Kiddo, c'mon. Time for bed." Toji said as he sauntered off into the living room as if he didn't just rearrange your guts. He put Megumi to bed that night, and he cleaned up the living room for you, allowing for you to recover in his bed for round two. He was much more of a gentleman for round two.

*** *** ***

"Hey... I know I ain't been to see you in a while. I'm sorry." Toji said as he sat down on the grassy ground. "I was letting life pass me by for too damn long." He said as he took a wet washcloth and began to wash up his late wife's gravestone. "I'm doing better now, so don't worry about me."

"Megumi's growing like a weed. I'm sorry I didn't bring him to see you... I just don't know how to explain it to him." Toji's voice was full of guilt as he dragged the wet washcloth against the stone. "He's a good kid though. He looks just like you, damn bastard." He softly laughed, knowing his wife would've struck him over the side of the head for calling Megumi a damn bastard.

"Listen... I met a girl." He leaned his head over the gravestone. It had been close to three months since you and Toji started sleeping together. There wasn't a formal label to your relationship, but it didn't feel necessary. You two both knew you were sleeping exclusively with each other. "I think you'd like her, or maybe you wouldn't since she's fucking your husband. But either way... I-" He choked up a bit as he held onto the cold stone. "I feel so fucking guilty... I know you're not coming home anytime soon, but I just... I need your blessing. If you can somehow hear me, please... I never asked you for anything until I asked you to marry me. Now, I'm asking... please somehow show me you approve of this."

"She's good for me... She takes good care of Megumi. He's so damn attached to her somedays." Toji softly laughed as he remembered how a few nights ago Megumi crawled into bed with you and him because he had a nightmare. Instead of taking to Toji like he normally does, he crawled into your arms. Toji had never felt so damn proud and slighted at the same time.

"I should get going. Give me a sign though.. Something that tells me you approve." He finished his visit with his wife, and he went home.

*** *** ***

That night at dinner, Megumi sped into the kitchen with an action figure in his hand. He was pretending to be Batman. "Gumi, I've told you three times. Stop running." You said as you gave the small child a look. Toji smirked as he knew that look good and well. It was the look a mom gave as a warning. Megumi was on his last warning.

"I'm sorry, mama." Megumi apologized, causing for both you and Toji to freeze right in your tracks. Megumi had never called you mama before. He always said your name.

Your heart swelled in your chest. It was a feeling of affection and guilt. "Oh no... baby.." You said softly as you took his hand. You lead him into the living room, and you crouched down, showing him a picture of his mom to him. "That's mama." You gently corrected him.

Toji watched the scene like a hawk from the dinner table. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had never been shy about telling Megumi who his mom was, but he hadn't exactly been forthcoming about how his mom passed away when he was a small baby.

Megumi pointed at the picture. "Mama." He said quietly. You nodded and patted his head.

"That's right." You praised affectionately. He then turned his attention to you. and he poked your chest with his tiny finger.

"Mama." He said, pointing at you.

"No-"

"It's alright." Toji spoke up from his seat at the dinner table.

"I don't want him to be confused..." You replied as you slowly stood back up, looking at Toji.

"He doesn't sound confused to me." He retorted with a small grin. You turned your attention back to Megumi, and Toji looked up towards the ceiling. "Thank you." He muttered so quietly before kissing the necklace that hung around his neck. He had his wife's blessing. This proved it.

After finishing his dinner, Toji joined you two in the living room. You and Megumi were curled up on each side of his while watching that old X-Men cartoon. Suddenly, Megumi rose from the couch. You and Toji watched him with a hint of confusion.

"What is he doing?" You softly asked Toji as Megumi bent over, and he looked between his legs at both you and Toji.

"I have no fucking id-" He was about to respond, but then, it hit him. "Get up." He said as he stood up from the couch. He quickly grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet like a madman.

"What? What? Is something wrong?" You asked as you had never seen Toji move this fast. You quickly got up too.

"Nothing's wrong. Come on. We're going to the store." He grunted as he swooped Megumi into his arms.

You were confused and in denial when Toji bought a pregnancy test and made you take it. Now, both of you were waiting outside of the bathroom for the five minutes to be over. "This is crazy, Toji. I'm not pregnant."

"It's an old wives' tale. When babies do that, it's supposed to mean their looking for their sibling." Toji said with a nonchalant shrug as if what he said was matter-of-fact. "My mother told me that's how she knew she was pregnant with me."

The timer went off on his phone, and both of you fought to get into the bathroom first. He eventually overpowered you and snatched the pregnancy test off the counter quickly. "Oh." He said quietly. The room went still.

Suddenly, your heart was racing. "What is it? Is it negative?" You asked a hint of disappointment hit you. You didn't know why, but a small part of you hoped for it to be positive.

"Oh, you're fucking getting it tonight." Toji smirked as he turned the pregnancy test over. Two pink lines were clear as day on the test. You're pregnant.

Tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @theuniversesnepobaby

[punpunsonny]

WARM

Tw: icky behavior(pushy yandere), yandere stuff

Empty.

Empty is all he could describe of what he felt, sans of everything, sans of feeling, of emotions, why did he feel this way?

Born in a loving family, gifted with the face of an angel, his life was always easy, always carefree, nothing to worry about, everyone singing and chirping praises to him, worshiping him.

He has gotten used to this easy lifestyle, to the point he felt numb to everything, shouldn't something when his mother hugs him? Shouldn't feel something when his father expresses his pride for him?

Should he not feel anything when a girl cries her heart out to him, leaving him a hand written note. Shouldn't he feel something? Anything?

He hated himself, he couldn't bring himself to just.. feel something, anything: hatred, anger, disgust it all felt like a dream, a goal to reach the moon, something so easy to think about but hard to do.

He constantly laid awake at night, how would it feel to feel something right now? To experience happiness, to experience sadness. To cry your eyes out after a break up.

He had tried everything, getting in and out of relationships, people leaving one by one. Why were they crying when he wasn't? He itched to feel something, to fill the gaping hole in chest…

So, he took a job for modeling, maybe the constant praise of how good he did, how good he looked would invoke a feeling, anything. Anything he'd take, just to feel something.

It took a few months for his career to take off, after that he was widely sought out for, he had blown up due to his face, how he carried himself, how he walked down the runway, how he talked. He was beloved, loved in places he never even imagined going. Yet, that darkness looms still in his chest.

And there you came, like a answer to his cries, a solution to his woes, solving his empty life, filling the endless void with your presence, if he was to describe how he felt seeing you frantically run around, being the assistant of the photographer who booked him, scoring a spot to his hectic schedule. He felt like the sun itself crashed down on earth, forming you.

A little sunshine in his dark life, he felt something, his heart beated, fast. He was confused, why did he feel this way? Why was his face warming up? It was cold, too cold in the studio you two reside in to feel warm, to feel awkward posing there as you watched him, a smile on your face.

He gulped, as he watched you. By God's he felt like he saw an angel, he was always told he had a face of one, now he thinks they were lying, because now. He saw what an angelic face looked like.

It was you, you who made this stone of a man feel something. He desperately tried to become friends with you, calling the photographer who was your employer for more shoots who the man happily accepted even if the pay wasn't that good compared to the brands who blew up his phone for a photoshoot.

Soon, due to his persistent behavior, you two became friends, it was awkward going on cafe hangouts with a celebrity of a man, he would just smile, and tell you “it's fine.. my treat.” He always says,

He would only stare at you during these times, he would always say he wasn't hungry when you helped yourself to his food he pushed your way, he enjoyed that smile on your face. He liked feeling this way, liked the swelling warm feeling engulfing him whenever he saw you. He liked this.

“I love you, y/n.” He whispered through the phone in a random midnight, by this point it has been a year of you two being friends, he constantly texted you, asking for your advice of what he should wear, he could ask his professional stylist but no, he always texts you of his outfit. He liked seeing what you preferred, that way he's learning more about you.

“I really love you.” You could hear him shuffle around, soft rustling from his clothes.

“Derin- I.. I don't know.” You said, hesitantly. How did this man like you? You weren't anything special in your eyes..

“Please.. please, y/n, I don't think-” he sighed “I don't think I can handle this..” he said.

“I love you, please.” He said, he wants you. He wants to feel warm, to feel something. He loved you, he really does..

“Derin- let's.. talk about this tomorrow.” You said.

“No, let's talk about this now. Y/n you made me feel things I didn't know I could feel. Please?” He said he really was pushy. Being used to getting what he wanted.

“Agh..” you sighed, was this worth it?

“Okay.” You said, you know you'd come to regret this, but, don't celebrities get bored in their relationships a week in? You trusted that Derin would get bored and possibly cheat on you or dump you. You'd let him have his fun for now to get out of this situation you no longer want to be in, shaking the thought of you being too easy to get away.

“Thank you- I love you.. so much.” you could hear him smile through the phone.

“Mhm..” you said.

“Night night, sunshine.” He said, his soft voice coming out of the speaker of your phone.

“Night.” You said, groaning as you ended the call. What the hell just happened?

He smiled to himself, kicking his legs around as he raced to his Instagram, putting “taken :33 by @your_name” he giggled, he always wanted to do this ever since.. he knew his manager would be calling him by the morning, yelling for him to take it down, he never will.

Oh, the grave mistake you made. If you knew now how he truly was, you would had never said anything and had blocked him right there and there.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 54 (The Game Tried to Take MY SON!)

cw: toddler peril. I learned a lesson about playing with unpatched mods but I played up a bit of drama despite not accepting what happened as canon. Only shot of Ash is above because more felt gratuitous for something that technically never happened because I reversed it.

The quiet house unnerved him. Conrad knew something wasn't right. He texted Heather, and in less than a minute his phone rang. "I'm sorry I didn't text," she sobbed through the phone. "Ash's daycare called and I...I...I'm at the hospital with him now. Doctors have him sedated."

"What happened?!"

"It was daycare," she repeated. "They said he was on the slide but then they looked away and...and they thought..." She broke down, and Conrad felt her pain through the line. Her fear shook the phone in his grasp.

"It'll be okay. I'm on my way there."

He embraced her when he walked through the door to St. Sims Hospital, and she fell into his arms. "He'll be okay," he assured her, but he didn't know any better.

"How did this happen?" she cried. "What kind of mother lets her son-"

"Stop. This isn't on you."

"If I didn't work so much, I could have been home with him. Maybe I could have..."

He pulled her close, feeling every tense muscle in her rigid body. "This isn't on you," he repeated. "And we're not gonna lose him. We'll all get through this together. We're a team, remember? That means Ash, too."

She was quiet. "Conrad... Do you believe in curses?"

"Like witches?"

She frowned as her thoughts pounded against her skull. "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe mermaids? But Mortimer Goth told me a story once about cursed Landgraabs, and I know how it sounds. But when Ash came along I thought about it a lot more than I should, and then I had to give him their last name. After tonight, I feel sick to my stomach. What if I cursed my son by giving him Malcolm Landgraab for a father?"

"There's no way Ash is cursed," he said quickly. "I know you're scared for him, but curses aren't real and Ash is one of the luckiest kids in the world. He'll get a Landgraab trust fund and he's got you for a mom."

She managed a smile, but when the doctor emerged from the pediatric care unit, she raced over to hear word of her son. "How is he? Oh, Watcher, please let him be okay..."

Dr. Serra smiled. "He hit his head pretty hard, but other than a headache for a few days, we think he's going to be fine. We want to keep him overnight for observation, but he's awake and he's asking for you."

Heather's whole body breathed with relief as she embraced her son's doctor. "Thank you!" she sobbed. "Thank you so much!"

Behind her, Conrad felt his muscles loosen. He'd been so focused on Heather, he didn't even notice his own fear at the thought of Ash in peril. "Thank you, Doctor. We're so grateful."

Dr. Serra smiled. "You must be Conrad. Ash asked for you, too."

Ash would recover quickly, but Heather wasn't so sure about herself. Even with Conrad's unflinching support, she felt torn apart by guilt over her son's near-fatal accident while she'd been working.

She was always working, trying so hard to earn enough to buy out her clinic from Ash's other family. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

WCIF St. Sims Hospital? Sims 4 Gallery build by @pihe89/pihe89. Stunning build, simply put, and very popular (so many copycats). And it comes with a science lab and alien wormhole nbd. Two floors, so many varieties for rooms. Why would I build when people are this talented? It's in a second save and I'll use it again for babies, but hopefully we're not back here for any tragedies anytime soon.

How did this happen?!? Needless to say, Heather's guilt is also mine. I had too many mods and tested fate playing before updating them all! I played some Ultimate Decades Challenge generations and still have the Children and Toddlers Can Die mod installed (I like having options, I guess?), which only kills toddlers with hunger if I'm not mistaken. I was also having some mod issues after the Lovestruck update and didn't realize it until this happened, but the toddler needs bars stayed in the green while their needs deteriorated and I didn't know. Only the toddlers!

So I followed Conrad to work and when he came home Ash was gone and Heather had the 'lost a child' grief moodlet. Cue my internal scream! I revived him instantly with MCCC because this is not UDC and I have plans for this kid! I was so shocked I didn't take any screenshots of the whole disastrous event, but I couldn't pretend it absolutely didn't happen. And honestly the accident ties in with Heather's nagging fears the curse could be real, which is the one unintended benefit of this whole thing.

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Hmmm... So the whole thing about Zhouzel's mother having to eat 1000 souls might explain at least part of why the initial (failed) ritual was set up as a boxing match (immediate souls to be fed after she's eaten the warrior offering, albeit probably not nearly enough but a start), and Zhouzel supposedly being a god-slayer that fights the other entities explains why the man in the trophy store described Zhouzel as "brave", though he also described it as "rising in the light of Adothi" and I wonder now if Adothi is simply the name of its mother or something else entirely.

-> Okay below is a lot of random, loosely connected thoughts that have been circling around in my brain regarding the happenings of the world and its entities, but please note before venturing further that 1. A lot of it is quite out there, incredibly speculative (if not full-on conspiracy), and likely to be flat-out wrong and 2. I haven't like relistened to the episodes properly so there could be plenty of important details I'm forgetting/missing. So please, feel free both to refute any of the theories being proposed here if you think that evidence exists to the contrary, and feel free to share your own thoughts and theories (no matter how "out-there") on the mysteries of Peachyville and everything beyond it, I'd love to hear them.

OKAY. Speaking of the trophy guy, flame has been playing an interesting role in the narrative thus far. The trophy gu- oh Hal that was his name- Hal wields it in an attempt to spare both himself and the party from whatever fate Peachyville is apparently destined towards should the powers that lie beyond the veil (Zhouzel included) be unleashed, then we learn from the book Trudy finds [did it have a name? I can't remember] that the being unleashed from the failed ritual (presumably this was also Zhouzel's mother) is weak to fire, then related to and following that we have that pretty horrifying scene where the flamethrowers come out through a portal (more on that in a moment) and kill everyone who was trying to escape, then in this episode the ritual room has fire extinguishing foam prepped and ready to go. So what's up with that? Are all the entities weak to fire (unlikely, since The Doodler does not appear to be)? Is it just some of them, or really just Zhouzel's mother? Could there be some other entity associated with flame in some way or another? One that inspires its own kind of madness, as in the case of Hal?

The flamethrower scene is quite interesting and raises a number of questions. The goal was almost certainly to do away with the entity in the ring, but whether that was with the goal of reattempting the ritual down below or fighting the ritual entirely is unclear. The latter case is rather interesting, because it implies that there are people other than Moth Jesus (and Relish Wet?) and the PCs actively trying to prevent The Bisons from summoning Zhouzel, and that these people may be quite powerful and dangerous in their own right. Moreover, in his phonecall with Trudy (who he believed to be Tucker), Dr. Man actually suggests exactly this: that there are people working against those still involved in Project Heartland (or whatever's become of it now) and that betrayal within the organization has already occured. So who then? Actually *one* of these enemy factions we've already known for a while now: the soviets. Everything that "Penny Picket" had to say to Tony in episode 4 and that which E.B. White had to say about her in episode 5 (describing her as the "former KGB occult operations officer") suggests that 1. the soviets are aware of and against the plan to summon Zhouzel, and 2. the british are most likely in favor of and associated with it and Project Heartland alongside the americans. So maybe the portal and flamethrowers belonged to the soviets, but are there more possibilities than that? Well, Mama Anderson (I can't remember her first name if it's been said), as you may recall, wanted Kelsey to win against The Bison's chosen warrior, which as we saw of course fucked with the ritual, so it seems likely albeit not certain that she and the Anderson gang are enemies of The Bisons and against Zhouzel's summoning as well, possibly responsible for the flame thrower incident, though the extent of their intentions remains unclear (they could just be a gang mainly concerned with money, of course, or things could go much deeper than that).

Leaving that there and instead returning to the topic of flame, I ask again, could there be some entity associated with flame and fire? It's a farfetched theory at the moment, but not entirely out of the question. Of those mentioned, Zhouzel and Adothi (if Adothi is the name of an entity at all and not just something else entirely) are most likely out of the question, as is The Doodler of course, and I highly doubt either The Maggot Whore or "The Cloud Thing" would be. Daegon perhaps? [Okay, now we're getting into real conspiracy theory territory for a moment or several] The only "Daegon" I could find (with that spelling at least) is the mortal combat character hehe, but in all fairness to the theory that guy is a demi-god and does have fire-related abilities. Not connected to Daegon specifically but still to the possibility of a fire-oriented entity, when Trudy reads from her book she reads the following passages:

In 1503 I saw through the veil And cried 666 words in a wail Ask me a question and draw out 3 cards And with them I'll show you the fate in your stars

For our purposes right now, it's the 666 portion that's of particular interest, since it alludes to more classical/biblical notions of something demonic/devilish and hence associated with fire. Guillermo Campos' accounts and existence may nod to the existence of a more devilish entity as well (referring mainly to his ties to catholicism, sins, and the inquisition). As a small and mostly unimportant sidenote, though I don't have any real evidence to support this, I somehow feel as though these passages may be related to the "Testimony of the Unknown Pagan", referenced in episode 9. Also, both Trudy's and Guillermo's books suggest that contact with all that lies beyond the veil far precedes Project Heartland.

As a small, final note tangentially-related to that last point, books also seem to be a reoccurring and important matter, as evidenced by the individual books mentioned as well as the existence of the archives themselves. The Maggot Whore, moreover, is said to read from The Book Of Many Eyes (and this book is mentioned again by someone talking to Dr. Man in the hospital in episode 7), which kind of makes me wonder if we'll finally encounter her(?) at the archives, though to be honest the zoo feels just as likely to me (something something rotting flesh). This reoccurring motif of books above all else has me wondering what's in store for Peachyville's happiest and snappiest schoolmarm, and that's not even getting into the implications and consequences of the decision she made today.

...

Okay okay one more thing that absolutely doesn't matter and never will but the implication from the episode 3 intro that the film "four father's in fantasy land" was used as part of a failed experiment orchestrated as part of Project Heartland (that failed experiment of course being what happened to Hildy/what we saw footage of in Oakvale) makes me wonder if there's an original version of the film, and hence of the S1/S2 universe, before its tape was altered by the Heartland experiment, where the doodler isn't released and S2 of course goes very very differently. OKAY THAT'S ALL GOODNIGHT PEACHYVILLE, GOODNIGHT.

[whyreyousoobsessedwithme]

Spoilers + theories 520-21

- We're off to an awful start, cutting off your finger for a man who doesn't even respect you or your child. I had a feeling I wouldn't like him. These women lowkey seem brainwashed, too, and a little unwilling in the first panel.

- Wait so I was right about gun being half korean then, or is this a mistranslation? His mother's name is Korean, I started to think that Gun Park was his Korean name that was given to him after his legal Japanese neame.

- Honestly, Gun being born a full-fledged fighter was a joke. I didn't think it would happen.

"I already have a name, though."

- He looked so confused when his mother slapped him because he was too young to understand. I don't like seeing children get abused.☹️

" You're the hope of Yamazaki syndicate. And you're also my hope."

- What happened to those women who couldn't birth a UI child?

"And their leader's an elementary schooler?"

- Please ptj, be for real right now😭💀

"You did very well."

- Girl teaching your own child to hit you, please, what happened to self-respect, all for a man who's sulking over a loss. I can guarantee yall that he started the fight with Gapryong, too, because as much as Gap was a total cheater, he still cared about injustice.

"I understand, but I will never give up. I will wait for you to look back at me."

- Girl stand up.

"Someone who protected my mind...he ws the first to embrace me."

- The only sane person, meaning he'll die very soon

"Repay the humiliation Gapryong's gang put us through..."

- So their only purpose is that? I get that pride is a big thing for these guys, but like😟

"...even if that person is my son."

- I hope he doesn't have anymore children.

"...I'll be free of the Yamazaki." " I pity you."

- My heart goes out to Haruto. Imagine living every day pretending to be ok with the fact that your father doesn't value you.

- Where is his body? What if he did survive but hid himself away? What if one of the workers who was supposed to dispose of his body saved him? (Let me be delusional pls)

- I honestly didn't think ptj ate with the " I didn't cry because I never learned how to be sad" line. Sadness isn't something you learn. It just comes to you. I know he's trying to portray how detached Gun is from his emotional side, but this wasn't it. If someone you cared about died like that in front of you, you would feel something.

- Why do none of those yakuza leaders ever wear clothes in meetings? I know they can afford them.

- He literally ripped them apart. No wonder his wife seemed unbothered in the bath.

- Clearly, Gun isn't the firstborn. He's just someone who has the potential to be the head. With how easy it was for them to get rid of Haruto, it makes me wonder what happened to the other women who birthed Gun's half siblings. Were they sent home with their child? Were they sent home without their child? Were the children killed, or are they being used for something else? Were the women killed for not birthing a UI child?

I have a theory. I think something had happened between Gun and his father that led to Gun using his Korean name instead, maybe to rebel against his father or something who knows. But this something happened before the fall of the Magami clan. I also think Gun's father acknowledged him after this fight.

[marshmallowprotection]

Have you ever done a post talking about how Ray stopped obsessing about MC on his own route?

I don't believe I've ever done one in depth before but I would LOVE to talk about that to clear up misconceptions. So, we're all well-aware of the fact Ray is completely in love with the idea of you. To talk about it in depth, we need to start at the beginning of Ray's awakening. While talking about his infatuation, it's important to understand the reason why he became so captivated with you in the first place, so that you'll be able to see how his love changes from mere infatuation with some idea to the conceptualizing of true love.

I'll start at the very beginning of Ray's identity in Mint Eye. When he realized who he was and what he had to do for the Savior, this person who has forced him to undergo torture the likes of which we only see brief spurts of and cannot even conceptualize just how horrible it was for him to experience, he understood the rules. He had to obey every order to survive, even if it made him feel sick to his stomach.

Any sort of deviation from the Savior's expectation would have him back into a basement that held nothing but nightmares.

"I have no one left for me. I have been abandoned by everyone but the Savior. I should be grateful that she hasn't given up on me like everybody I've ever known. I should devote my life to hers because that's all I'm good for. If I was good for anything, V and Saeyoung... wouldn't have left me behind. I see nothing but torment in my life, but that's all I've ever known and that's all I will ever know. I need to be grateful that the Savior saved me, because her torment is what can save me... if I can be good enough for her... maybe I'll be good enough to exist."

You have to understand that this is Ray's core foundation. He has been pressured to believe something that goes against who he is. Ray is described best as someone who cannot stop dreaming, and Suit Saeran said it the best, "Ray won't stop dreaming of a day that might bring V and Saeyoung back to his side, even if Rika's forced us to believe they'll hurt us. Unlike Ray, I know we can't go back to what we had, but he won't stop dreaming. If he stops dreaming, we won't have any hope. To dream is to have hope, and Ray is my hope. That's why I want to help him and you escape this place. So, our hope can... survive."

Ray's very existence is defined by his value to Rika. That's what he's been forced to believe and trust me when I say this, Ray doesn't want that. He doesn't want to be defined by what he can do for Rika to give her proof that he shouldn't be tortured anymore. He wants to be able to exist without the fear of a hammer swinging over his head, but he isn't allowed to have that. Rika's controlling him through fear, through the idea that he has to show her he has value so she won't throw him away like "V and Saeyoung threw him away".

She abuses Ray with a blend of verbal abuse and love-bombing on the regular and this back and forth of "you're an airhead and maybe Ray shouldn't exist in the first place because he keeps failing every task I give him," vs "Oh, Ray, no one in this world will care for you the way you need except for me... I didn't abandon you, so you can truly believe me above everyone else."

How would you feel if the only way you could evade being drugged in Mint Eye's basement would be to work your fingers to the bone?

Would you fight the Savior? Would you try to reason with her even though it is futile to argue with someone who refuses to listen to you? Would it take long for you to realize that the only means to your survival will be to obey? What if you fought her and she cast you aside, sending you to fight for yourself on the streets of Seoul? The very streets where one wrong move could have Saejoong Choi kill you?

What's worse, to be tormented in a basement with drugs until you learn your "lesson", or to be killed the minute you step foot into the outside world your Mother always told you would kill you when you did? You don't want to die. You don't want to die, do you? How long will it take before you accept this awful reality... because you don't have another choice? It didn't take Ray very long to accept that he had no other choice. It was Rika's torment and "salvation" or death.

He understands that he'll probably die in Mint Eye, but at least... in Mint Eye, he can tell himself that Rika didn't abandon him. At least, he would die knowing one person didn't "give up" on him. He settles, because what else can he do but settle? This is the greatest good he may ever get. Is it any wonder why he wants to make the "best" of the nightmare he's living in? No, it's really not.

It's not okay, though. He shouldn't have to make the "best" of what he's given because he doesn't deserve any of the suffering he's been forced to experience at the hand of Rika. None of the believers who found themselves trapped in that place deserved what happened to them. What Ray suffered doesn't justify his decision making, though. His suffering doesn't make what he does with the player before he's able to realize the error of his ways right.

Mind you, as I'm writing this post and explaining Ray's perspective, I don't want any of you to get this twisted. Ray's actions aren't justified in any way. He shouldn't have lied to the player, he shouldn't have told you the RFA were characters in a game, he shouldn't have risked your life and safety for his obsession with the idea of you, etc, etc. I know a lot of people are more understanding of Ray and Saeran than they are of other characters in this game, but I'm still going to say this since it has to be said so often.

Understanding a character, enjoying a character, and knowing the rhyme or reason why they do something doesn't mean you justify their actions. It just means you like that character and tried to get more information to understand why they did what they did and it's okay to morally dubious characters. Let's break down our important critical thinking skills and remember that.

Anyway.

Those images I stitched above are from his diary and show you a tiny glimpse into his formula for bringing someone to Mint Eye.

Ray starts out as the head of security for Mint Eye and he has to work his way up to the creation process that brings us to the RFA "game" he sells the player. He spends the first few months stalking the RFA as best he can to learn more about their habits and how to either eliminate them or bring them to Mint Eye for the Savior, it's only after he has proven himself worthy of gathering information that Rika tells him that he will be allowed to choose whoever he wants to help him take down the RFA.

This is a "reward" he's given for good behavior, as in, doing his job until his fingers bleed and he has to wear gloves to stop himself from dislocating the joints, chugging caffeine pills and his elixir like a "good boy", and keeping his mouth shut about anything but breathing and Paradise. He gets the "honor" of finding someone to help him do his job, and during the process of hunting down that person to help his mission, he finds... you.

I don't think he set out to find someone who could like him. I think he originally sought out someone who could listen to him and believe his lies about the RFA. He wanted someone who wouldn't question him... after all, how can you get someone to be your eyes and ears when all you hear is: "Why is this so life-like? Why do these characters feel so real? I'm starting to believe what they're telling me and I'm having so much doubt what you've been selling me, Ray."

He was looking for a person who would be incredibly naive, but kind-hearted. It's just that in the process of trying to find someone to fit that bill, he discovered you. It's not entirely clear how he found you or what made him like you, that's always left open to the player so they can decide what he liked about them. All we know is that he watched you visit your favorite cafe now and again. Everything else is really up to the player to decide... meaning however dark or light you want that imagery is up to you.

Regardless, he discovered you, and something about you captivated him so much that he told himself there could be no other person to test his game. It would have to be you. There was something about you that made him feel warm and fuzzy inside... it made him feel so good. Here's the thing about his feelings for you in the beginning. He could learn as much as he wanted by scouring information about you online, but that would never be the same as actually getting to know you.

So, from the get-go, Ray's foundation of who you are is based on what he can find.

Everything he can't find is built on what he creates in his head.

This is why he becomes obsessed with the idea of you, and it's so easy for him to slip into this fantasy. The idea of someone can be better than who they really are sometimes, because a concept can't disappoint you or break your heart. Ray spends most of his time fantasizing about what it would be like to be close to you, what it would be like to get to know you, and as he continues to fill in the pieces with his fantasized version of you, the line between reality and fiction becomes blurred. 

You become the only constant in his life that has a driving force for good, frankly. Whenever he is being tortured for a mistake he made or criticized for not being good enough, he slips into his head to just fantasize about what it would be like to be treated with respect by the object of his obsession. The concept of you, it comforts him, it brings him peace, it brings him joy, and it keeps him ALIVE. If not for those months he spent dreaming of you, he might not have survived as long as he did.

Ray, at his core, needs a reason to have hope.

If you strip away all of his hopes and dreams, there is nothing left but a shell. There is nothing left but a husk... and is it really any wonder in this world why Suit Saeran was angry when he woke up and saw his Ray was tortured for daring to dream the impossible?

When that was all Ray ever wanted? To dream? He wouldn't even allow himself a chance to ask for what he wanted, he would beat it out himself to let the Savior know he wouldn't try to fight her for ANYTHING.

Ray was trained to destroy himself from the inside out because Rika intended for him to disappear someday. For Saeran to "take over and prove that strength is only born from survival of the fittest."

The fantasy of you wasn't the real you by any means but Ray could settle for a fantasy if he couldn't taste reality.

The idea of you gave him strength to survive until tomorrow, and that's important to understand. Why else would Ray consistently say, "I will settle for whatever you give me. I don't deserve anything. Use me as you please, even if it hurts me, because I just want you to be happy."? Ray has to settle for less all the time. He is so desperate to be liked, to never be abandoned again, that he's okay with you doing anything to him as long as he can stay with you.

That's what Bad Ending 1 is all about—if you decide to take his offer to hurt him for your amusement.

When all he can dream of is his fantasy and what he settled for, it should become abundantly clear to players why he is so dead set on wanting you to stay with him. His desperation for you to stay with him stems from the fact that he doesn't want to be abandoned. Ray believes he was left behind by everyone who loved him except for his Savior, so when he begs and pleads for you to stay later on, it's 100% because of this fear.

Is it wrong for him to beg and plead to make you stay with him? YES! It's not okay! But, it's easy to understand WHY he's begging so hard in the first place. Ray wants so badly for his fantasy of you to be real. To be liked by you, not even loved, is all he wants because you have become the only thing that makes a smile stay on his face in this den of torment.

Do you know what you do as the player during Ray Route? During your time with Ray, you are constantly and consistently telling him that he should value himself, that he shouldn't beat himself down, that he shouldn't take Rika's torment and believe the horrible things she tells him, and that he should think for himself instead of what he thinks Rika wants him to think. You are actively working to help Ray understand his value as a person, nudging him to decide for himself what he wants.

Do you owe him that kindness? No, no you don't. You don't owe him this, nobody does, but if you decide to love him and give him the time to grow from his mistakes, this is where Ray Route takes you. Tumblr won't let me post more than 30 images, so I will point you to read just a couple of specific chatrooms I can't post snippets of.

Day 5, 19:23, "Small Coincidence" & Day 6, 03:17, "If I was stronger" & Day 6, 20:49, "Suddenly Afraid". Those chatrooms specifically give a player the option to reassure Ray at every turn, to tell him that he is a person who matters to you, and that he needs to trust your words as you say them, and not assume they come with a stipulation like every word out of Rika's mouth.

You're not telling Ray that you want to stay in Mint Eye with these choices.

You're telling him that you want to stay with him.

MC is actively making the decision once they realize the truth to see what they can do to get Ray out of Mint Eye. You may not trust V at first, you may not even believe him, but you have seen Ray suffer at Rika's hand and you know he doesn't deserve that. You want to get him away from this place, far, far away... and the closer you get to the kiss visual novel, the closer you get to helping Ray overcome what was done to him.

I understand it can be difficult to grasp what's happening during the first two days of the route because realistically this would be playing out throughout a couple of months. But, what you're doing is helping Ray undo the brainwashing. You are working to deprogram the cult manipulation, and I don't know if any of you know how hard it is for someone to do that in real life, but it's not easy.

There is a reason why it is so difficult to remove someone from a cult once they are knee-deep in the trenches. You can't just tell someone to leave, even if it's detrimental to their health and safety because they won't leave the cult. Cults are designed to keep people inside. Even if you present someone with logic and reason, they have been taught not to listen to anyone who tries to tell them anything that goes against the doctrine they have been forced to believe. 

You are more likely to lose a person if you try to force them out of a cult than you are to save them. Obviously, every situation is different and you need to approach this with care if you encounter something like this in real life, but I would pray nobody would have to learn about this information or how to use it.

I don't want anyone to be trapped in a cult. But, hey, look into how folks do help remove people from cults with SAFETY in mind. It's interesting, if a bit dark because there's right and wrong ways to help people.

That's why I advise you to look in those chat rooms if you want more contextual evidence to understand what's happening here since my images are limited and I had to chop this down to what I knew would be most helpful to someone's understanding of the situation. So, I've got two phone calls below that point out what I'm talking about and show what the MC is doing.

Reassuring Ray of his desires by telling him he's allowed to think for himself, and then down below, you're working to tell Ray that he can trust other people, not just the Savior. It is the little things like these choices that build up to what happens when you kiss him and it just about clicks for him that this place isn't sustainable.

This language the player uses is important in those chatrooms and during every phone call where this conversation topic comes up. He needs to hear it. He needs to know that his life is bound by what he can do for Rika. He can have more what he's been given, he doesn't have to settle for torment and torture. He can have whatever he truly desires as long as he's willing to face the facts. Ray's just... so afraid of what will happen when he stands up that it takes a long time to get him to that point.

Case in point, the fake elixir. He became so incredibly paranoid about his decision to have you forgo the elixir that he decided to cultivate a fake bottle that nobody could distinguish from the real thing just to protect you. He lied about you taking the elixir in the first place and that was dangerous in itself, but it was a decision he made that truly began to send him down a path that would lead him to run away from settling for the hell Rika gave him. 

This lie Ray made was huge, and I don't see a lot of people point that out.

He tells you multiple times that he's afraid of what might happen to you if they find out he lied about your initiation ceremony. He knows what's going to happen to you, and he knows what will happen to him because he lied about it. He might never be able to see you again, and he might never exist again after they're through with him, but he still decided to lie about it because he couldn't stand the thought of seeing you in pain.

Decisions like that are ones that help you understand the "generous" organization you're in isn't trying to help you, it's trying to kill you at every corner. Ray’s devotion is based on fear and fear alone. He truly doesn't believe what he's been sold, the only reason why he fights so hard for this paradise is because he believes that he doesn't have any other choice.

Why do you think he wants Paradise to be as good as he can make it? 

When you try to tell him you want to leave, he tells you that he could never survive in the outside world. It has been beaten into him over and over again. He won't be able to survive out there without the help of the savior. He won't be able to survive anywhere without her help.

That's why he tries to fight so hard to survive, to make the best of this nightmare, because one day he'll be able to catch the carrot on the string. Even if he knows that's never going to happen, he doesn't believe there's any other way for him to exist, and if he's going to be happy with you, the only place he can have it is here. Even when you make him want to believe in the impossible dream, it still feels very impossible.

That's by design, Rika's design.

So, when he actively starts to make hard decisions that go against everything she's tried to beat into him, that shows him breaking away from Mint Eye. That is the first step in the process of getting him out of there. It is not easy by any means, but by God were you so close to getting him out of there. Lying to Rika? Huge. Making a fake elixir to protect you? Huge. Owning up to the fact that he's terrified for what he's done by bringing you here? Huge. A process of accountability on his part and the beginning of Ray's journey to do the right thing.

Every conversation you had with Ray up until this point has helped him little by little realize you care about him and it's not something you're going to throw away. Your affection for him isn't something that's going to be yanked away like a carrot on a string, you intend to give him kindness because you believe he deserves it very inherently, meaning that he doesn't have to prove himself to receive it. He is all deserving of love, just as anyone else is, and you want him to know that because seeing him destroy himself is painful.

Even at the moment when you hold him close to your heart and there seems to be nothing in the world that could tell him you didn’t mean what you told him, there’s still some unease in his chest. You can't help somebody overcome years of insecurity and months of torture with a single kiss. But, it's a start, and the decision to start a journey towards self-reflection is what’s hopeful. 

There's still a hint of what he thought was love when you kiss him. It's not hard to miss. But, if you've been paying attention to the way he's been talking, you'll have noticed that the pressure he laid down to stay with him near the beginning of your journey has decreased by a significant margin. He is no longer trying to find ways to manipulate you into staying with him. 

He's trying to find ways to understand your heart and what it means to be close to the real you.

He's less focused on trying to convince you that this place is great, and he starts to reveal what's going on inside his head. He tells you why he’s lost and afraid, he tells you what keeps him awake at night, and he tells you how he’s come to believe this is truly the only place for him to exist.

His desperation is what asks you to stay with him because he wants to be with you if you’ll have him, but he can’t understand why you don’t want to stay in Mint Eye when he's been coerced to believe this is the only place he can exist. It's important to understand the huge difference in language.

But, now as you hold him close to your heart, his fantasy is starting to fade away by the minute. He's less focused on trying to make sense of his dreams and more focused on trying to understand the reality of what you're living in. You know, "If there really is a paradise, I wish you would be there with me." He's not calling Mint Eye a paradise, he said he would want to be in a "paradise" with you.

Little adjustments to his manner of speech stand out. Read between the lines and compare and contrast the way that Ray talks to you at the beginning and more so as you get closer to him. All that work you laid down as you got closer to him mattered so damn much that I can not even begin to explain it in a single sentence. Do you know why it matters so much?

Rika had eyes and ears on Ray. She knew what you were doing, she knew what you were telling Ray, and she knew Ray was on the cusp of leaving her behind. So, what did Rika do when someone told her Ray kissed the Special Missionary? She got rid of him, or she tried to get rid, at least.

She is using him for everything she can get out of him. She intends to use him until he is no longer useful, and your trying to convince him that he has value goes against everything she's been fighting to make him believe. The minute you help him realize that he has more worth than what she's given to him is the minute he decides to leave. Rika can't have him abandon her, she's the only person who can abandon someone, she says. I'm the only one who gets to decide who suffers after V tried to decide everything for me.

The only reason why he is punished is because you were only an inch away from helping him escape Mint Eye. 

You were THAT close.

He manages to call you somewhere amidst the torture because he finds the courage to tell you the truth. He wants to be with you more than anything in the world because he finally realized being with you made him feel like he was worth something, but he isn't allowed to exist in paradise. He was never meant to know what this felt like this, what it felt like to be loved by someone as kind as you to him, and if he doesn't take this torture, you will know this torture. 

"I must be gone for our salvation. I need to be gone for you to stay in paradise."

vs

"No, no! I want to stay! I want to see you so much! Please, I don't want to disappear! I miss you, please... please! Abandon me, save yourself!"

This is Ray trying to fight the programming that was beaten into him, but he ultimately lost his battle in the basement. He was so close to getting out of Mint Eye but Rika knew better than to turn her back on him. She knew she had to snuff out his light if she wanted to use him for what he was worth.

I do not doubt in my heart that he fought as much as he could to survive those hours of suffering and torment, but he was fighting Rika and God knows how many guards as they shoved elixir down his throat and told him he was a failure. I can't blame him for not being able to believe in his dreams when they held a bottle of poison to his throat and told him he needed to obey or you would suffer. 

Your last interaction with Ray as himself is when Saeran shuts down. When you tell Saeran that you won't treat him like Ray to give him the love he deserves, because you know treating Saeran like Ray won't be good or healthy for him. You want to love him as Saeran, not as Ray... and the idea of being loved as himself is torture. He'll die if the Savior finds out you love him (and he, you, in return) because that's literally what happened to Ray.

Pretending to be Ray was his only hope of tasting that adoration for even a moment. Because he understood inherently that love and kindness would always be a weakness in Mint Eye. Showing even a small amount of that weakness would’ve had him destroyed, and if they destroyed him, there would be nothing to protect whatever remained of Ray, and you. If he's gone and incapable of being the sword and shield of "strength", there will be no hope for all three of you.

I digress, I've talked about Suit Saeran’s desire to be loved before, so I don’t think I need to go too depth about that right here. Just know he craves love too, but he won't let himself have it because he's afraid of being tortured like Ray was for unleashing his desires. He wants to be the strongest so nobody tries to torture him ever again, even when it could cost him a chance at happiness.

I.E. Bad Ending 2, where Suit Saeran goes too far and he breaks the player completely beyond repair and he can't put you back together again even though he realizes he shouldn't have done what he did in the first place.

This moment is the one where everything finally comes to a head and Ray looks you in the eyes and confesses the truth. He apologizes to you for everything he's done, for tricking you, for deceiving you, for putting you in this predicament in the first place all because he was so obsessed with the idea of you.

Even if you decided to give him a chance, even if you decided he was worth fighting for, and even if you decided you wanted to be with him despite everything—Ray understood in that moment you deserved an apology because he shouldn't have deceived you in the first place. He acknowledges that he is guilty, not just Saeran.

They both hurt you and there is no excuse for their actions. Ray is able to conceptualize this need to apologize first, and his ability to own up to everything that's happened so far is what opens the door for Saeran to do the same.  

He tells you that you need to put yourself first, that you need to protect yourself and if it comes down to it, if you need to choose between him or yourself, he would want you to choose yourself. After all this time he spent trying to convince you to abandon everything and stay with him in this false paradise, he realizes that you deserve to decide for yourself what it is you want and after everything that's happened, it's your choice and he can't blame you for whatever you choose. 

He can't force you to stay with him. He can't manipulate you to stay with him. He can't get on his hands and knees and tell you not to abandon him just because he's afraid.

If you want to stay with him, it should be because that's something you want, not because it's something he's tried to make you do for him.

He understands that now, and he began to understand that before, it was hard to see it under all the torture and pain he was experiencing before, unfortunately.

You helped him realize that he's always been a person deserving of love and affection, and if it wasn't for this dire situation, if it wasn't for the fact that he knows if he's not careful you'll be tortured within an inch of your life, his words in this moment would be filled with more gratitude at having the chance to have known you. He's unfortunately still beating himself down because he's not sure if there will ever be a way for him to exist in a world that won't try to destroy him. 

But, he wanted you to know, no matter what, you helped him realize he was worth more than what he thought he was. You made him see meaning in what he imagined was NOTHING. Rika never for Ray to be anything but a tool, and you showed him that Ray mattered.

His existence mattered.

It meant something.

He meant something.

Ray: “Ever since I met you, I thought that I might be able to stay in this world. You made my name mean something when it was never meant to mean anything. You're kind, one of the kindest people I've ever met, and I wish... I wish I could stay with you... but I've hurt you so much.”

Suit Saeran, hours later: "You know, the name Ray wasn't supposed to mean something... but you look a little sad every time I say it. I'm certain that's because you made him feel real... made him feel like he was allowed to be something, more than just an airhead who did all the work they forced down his throat."

Ray realizing that true love sometimes means being willing to let someone go because the environment around the two of you is only going to destroy you in the end is huge for someone who thought his love could only be founded in fantasy. A boy who was ready to cling desperately to you and do anything he could to make you stayed by his side willfully choosing to let you go because he never should have tried to cage you in the first place? 

Character growth!

This here is the pivotal moment when you should understand his love for you has become real, and it is not founded in the obsession it was at the get go. I don't know how else to spell this out any clearer for people to understand, but if I missed anything and you're not sure about something you've come across in the game, please point it out because I would love to talk about it. 

I know that this game is not perfect by any means when it comes to showing his character progression, but the concept is there, and as long as you're looking like you will find it readily. 

[chipjrwibignaturals]

hey guys! thinking about how these two might interlink <3

[demigods-posts]

luke fumbling in recruiting percy has to be one of his greatest failures. a beautiful thing the show does regarding luke and percy's relationship is building rapport between them through shared moments like settling into camp, eating meals together, but especially through swordfighting lessons. the swordfighting scene at the beginning of episode 8 not only reveals that percy and luke already share similar beliefs about the fear-based system the gods have cultivated, but it's clear the conversation stays with percy when he fights ares and later calls out zeus on his waning skills as a father and a king. however, luke's plan fell through the moment percy learned that the winged-shoes were meant to drag him to tartarus. not only that, but the shoes nearly killed grover, a friend percy cared for deeply. if nourishing loyalty and trust was the key to ensuring a partnership with percy, then it was luke's faulty planning, arrogance, and impatience that cost him the greatest ally he could ask for.

[dirtytransmasc]

self indulgent got concept.

Ned brings Jon home, Cat hates the boy, everything stays the same... until Robert Baratheon is charging through the halls of Winterfell looking for the babe, ready to butcher the poor thing where he lay helpless in his cradle.

in a matter of moments Catelyn learns three things:

The babe was never a bastard, Ned had only lied to her to protect Jon, and that she would die before she let Robert lay a finger on the babe she'd previously wished death upon.

cue Catelyn Stark snatching Jon from his cradle, holding him, protecting him, loving him as she would her own son, risking it all to keep him safe, all care for herself thrown to the wind.

like they say, what a mother's love holds no bounds, and what it makes her capable of had no limits.

[dyrewrites]

There are some very specific questions about my writing that I hope no one ever asks.

Because I will answer honestly.

And nobody wants that.

[pastel-rights]

And then I finally end it off with some doodles of them… they make me feel things.

[bentrollio]

Ayo does anyone have any theories as to why the Formless Mother is also called “The Mother of Truth”? That has to be significant in some way.

[marsbotz]

rewatching nature i dont want to make one billion posts abt it so heres alllllll my nature thoughts as we go lets go wheeeeeee

[tonycries]

The Way You Kiss Me - G.S.

Synopsis. The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! Suguru’s sister! reader, childhood enemies to lovers, PINING Satoru, like really really disgustingly down bad, creampíe, oral (fem receiving), pússytalking, needy JEALOUS! Satoru, running away from it, spítting, punching is Suguru’s love language, mentions of aIcohol, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 7.4k (That’s wild)

A/N. BOO! Surprise upload. This was so fun to write omg.

“You sure this is how the grown-ups get married?”

“Duh, I know everything.”

“Nuh uh, Toru.”

“Yuh uh!”

The first time Gojo Satoru kissed you was underneath that dingy playground slide that the two of you always raced to after elementary school. 

Usually, your older brother, Suguru, would walk home alongside you two - but this time, he’d just so happened to have been held back for throwing paper planes at the teacher that day.

A sign from the universe, Satoru internally celebrated, something he’d learned from those sappy romance novels his mother left lying around the house. No matter that he was the one that made those planes.

You were six back then, standing in front of a determined Satoru - reaching up on his tip-toes, face pink, smelling of those cheap strawberry lollipops he’d sneak into class and taunt you with. At the much older and wiser age of seven, he’d insisted on being the first one to lean in.

Just barely even grazing your dramatically puckered lips before-

Satoru learned two things that fateful afternoon:

Even as a seven-year-old, Suguru’s punches really hurt. 

Never mess with you. Anyone but you. 

Life only seemed to go downhill from there - because that last lesson was proving to be hard along the years. Really. Fucking. Hard.

Little did Satoru know that this would be the start of some strange, unpredictable little dance of push and pull. No, you definitely weren’t his wife. Nor were you exactly best friends - not really, that spot was reserved for your brother. But you didn’t think you could ever be just that either.

And the punch that’d knocked his wobbly tooth out onto the playground floor that day was a painful reminder that whatever that was - whatever weird thoughts he had later in middle school about how you’d tasted like candy - didn’t matter. No matter how part some tucked-away little part of him wanted it to.

Hell, eleven years later and Satoru still can’t walk around that familiar block without feeling slightly queasy. Which is why, after that failed first kiss, he knew there wouldn’t be a second. 

Instead, he settles back to teasing your pouty self, pushing all your buttons, tugging on those cute dresses you wore. Face burning so strangely with- humiliation? when you bickered right back, calling his haircut a “tragic attempt at modern art.”

“So you’re saying I look like art?” A gangly, now-seventeen Satoru blocks the bustling high school hallway, ignoring the bell. Grin only growing at your frustrated huff, he half-jokes, “Aww, if you’re that soft on me, sweetheart, maybe we should go to prom tog-”

You slam your locker, effectively shutting both it and Satoru at the same time. “I’d rather go with Yaga.”

“...you would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would- Sugu–!”

And all Suguru can do is wrap two hands around his neck, mock-choking himself, wondering if it was really too late to embrace a quiet life as a monk. “You’ll both be MLA cited in my farewell note.”

He was used to it, though, forced to watch all this chaos since quickly mending his friendship with Satoru over ice cream the day after the punch. Convinced that this was some punishment for a past life’s misdeed.

With a squawk of protest, Satoru’s turning back to you, eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief you knew too well, “Would not.”

Your face burns, “Would to, Toru.”

You didn’t go with Yaga. but Satoru didn’t exactly count that as a win in his books, either, because you did show up that night hanging off the arm of some jerk from the football team. 

And there you were, all dolled up - which he very objectively noted - way too prettily for some bastard like him. Stars in your eyes, and everything he couldn’t have in that smile. 

Everything. 

Way too gorgeous, even when he finds you sitting outside the gymnasium later on in the night. Too busy bawling your mascara off to even throw out your usual greeting insult his way. Murmuring out wetly about “that asshole” and how he humiliated you by stranding you in the middle of the dance floor for someone else. 

“Well, he was a jerk anyway. Even Yaga would’ve been better, hell, I-” Satoru stops short to his horror at the way you only cry harder.

Way too irresistible, especially as his body moves before his mind - holding out an open hand before he knows it. “I’m a much better dancer than him and you.” And oh Satoru will forever remember the way his heart lurches as you blink your teary eyes up in confusion, “Well, aren’t ya gonna take up the challenge?”

Weirdly, it wasn’t weird at all. 

If anything, you had to hold back your laughter the entire time at the way the great “campus sweetheart” Gojo Satoru was so on edge.

Just a friend comforting a friend, right?

So why was he avoiding your gaze with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, summer blue eyes pointedly trained right over your head. That pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks reflecting the hands hovering in midair over your waist. So close - and yet, fear in each and every turn and swirl.

Yours were searing into his broad shoulders as you tried to guide him to the muffled music from inside. And shit.

That night ended with a second kiss. 

You don’t know who leaned in first, just that Satoru’s soft lips were just fleeting on your glossy ones - barely even a touch. And that shit shit shit- this was Satoru. This was you. 

Everything. 

But it seems that every time Satoru was about to kiss you dangerously close to the way some tiny, forbidden part of his heart wanted to - the universe throws an obstacle at him. An obstacle that was six feet and named “Suguru”, currently running at break-neck speed out of the gym.

“MOVE YOUR ASSES!” he cackles, “THE FOOTBALL TEAM ISN’T TOO HAPPY ABOUT ME BREAKING THEIR STAR PLAYER’S NOSE.”

And not a word is uttered about the kiss as the three of you speed out of the school parking lot in Suguru’s busted-up black hellcat, the wind mussing up the hairstyle that took Satoru over two hours to perfect. Sneaking in glances at the sight of you singing along at the top of your lungs to some overplayed pop song on the radio. 

He learns another two things that night:

Apparently, Suguru’s right hook still really fucking hurt. And thank god for tonight’s casualties of noses, because it was a wonder that he didn’t look too hard at how close Satoru was with you. 

He didn’t…dislike the feeling of your lips on his. And judging by the way you meet his eyes in the rearview mirror - you didn’t either.

It’s mainly that last one that makes him gulp.

Neither of you remember the third kiss - though, Satoru’s sure that at least 80% of Shoko’s instagram followers did.

According to a very hungover Shoko, and the many, many forms of documentation, it had happened on the New Year’s eve during your third year in university. In which you were much more used to the raging parties that would be hosted at Suguru’s apartment, and only slightly less intimidated by them.

“And you’re a lightweight too, dumbass. You were gone.” Shoko sighs from across the café table, eye bags deeper than the last time he’d seen her. “Like gone gone.”

God, what a way to start the year.

Satoru bites back a remark about how “gone” Shoko herself had been. Sitting up straight in his seat, regret immediately hitting his senses faster than the guilty throbbing at his temples. He winces, managing out a semi-disbelieving groan of, “Gone gone?”

And she’s only nodding wearily, subconsciously tapping out the rest of her cigarette ashes onto his untouched plate of sweet pastries. 

“I’m talking dancing on expensive coffee tables and fighting to stop you from giving everyone there a strip show.” She cracks a smirk through a waft of smoke, “Though, she would’ve loved that I’m sure.”

“Har har har, you’d make even Nanami laugh with that one.”

“Eugh, gross.” Shoko taps through her phone briefly, swirling it around to show Satoru a few pictures that definitely gave him a mini-heart attack at 8:57 in the morning. “You look like you’re about to pen really bad poetry.”

And perhaps this was Shoko’s plan all along - to shock Satoru to the core hard enough that she can note it down as one of her sketchy psychological experiments. 

But he knew. Could feel it in the hazy fragments of memories - or, at the very least, in that entire highlight that Nanamin had oh-so-conveniently put up on Instagram titled, “Blackmail.”

You knew. 

You’d kissed him back. 

“I don’t have a-.” you slur, stumbling ever-so-slightly as you try to meet Satoru’s glassy eyes. Because shit the years have had him shooting up faster than you could look up. “-a New Year’s kiss, y’know.”

You were older - more gorgeous, if that was even possible now. That tight dress hugging your body so unfairly in a way that had him forgetting you were his best friend’s sister. 

The one person in this whole world that he couldn’t have.

But Satoru leans in closer, more because he wants to than anything - he could pick out your voice anywhere let alone over the thumping music currently filling his crowded living room. Lips loose as he tries to play up the cool-guy facade he’s been dubbed with since freshman year, “Hah, loser. Because I do.”

“Where?”

At this, Satoru is stumped - damn, you were good. 

“Not- uh here?” If he was in any clearer state of mind, he’d have been embarrassed at the way his voice cracks so traitorously as your unsteady hands pull him in closer by his overpriced button-up. 

Your body was flush against his now, so addictive. Gaze half-lidded and flickering between the sliver of milky skin exposed on his chest - from that impromptu striptease he’d almost started earlier - and the blue eyes that were currently locked you. You whisper a strained, “Liar.”

Close - too close. So dangerously close.

He breathes out against your lips, the smell of booze and you so heady in his mind. And the heavy words falling from his lips sound like lies, even to him. “Not.”

“Toru?” you hum, a sound that has him gasping. “Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And there went your New Year’s kisses. At exactly 11:37PM, if the photos were anything to go by. 

And holy shit were there many. All of which showed your arms looped around Satoru’s neck, crashing his lips to yours. His own, resting against your waist, a scandalously red blush - whether from the alcohol or you - adorning his cheeks. Looking more blissed out than he ever remembers feeling. 

“I’m a dead man, Shoko.” 

There’s a lengthy silence, leaving Satoru stewing in thoughts of how Suguru would react once he finds out. And whether or not he’d be able to rise from the dead just to see how pretty you’d look at his funeral.

Morbid thoughts broken only by Shoko’s cough, “Hey, can I keep your eyes for experimentation if he actually catches you?”

Subtly, he sends himself those photos from last night.  

Luckily for Satoru’s eyes, they never ended up being donated towards Shoko’s questionable contributions to the world of medicine. 

And by some grace of the gods above, Suguru never mentioned a word about the kiss that would’ve inevitably made its way to him. Or maybe it was because Satoru stole his phone until he managed to pester Nanami just enough to take down that highlight. But, semantics. 

His heart, however, might as well have been part of some experiment.

Because it’s been working overdrive since that night - mind reliving that moment over and over and over and- shit, he’s fucked. So, so fucked. 

Fucked enough that it took Satoru months just to muster up to even look in your pretty eyes once more, unless he wanted to get lost in them forever. Fucked enough that he dared to wonder again and again when there might be a fourth kiss - if there would be a fourth kiss. 

He just never thought it would happen the way it did - with you, standing outside his front door. 

“I’m sorry, Toru.” you mumble, “It’s just- I think we both need to grow up.”

You’ve freshly graduated now, looking more and more irresistible each time he sees you - even when you’re looking at him like that. 

Rolling his eyes, “Ha, is this another way of saying you want my secret to getting taller? Because the first thing is to-”

“I’m serious, Satoru.”

And oh how he wished you’d say something - anything - else right now. Call him anything but that. Maybe even throw an insult his way, tell him those new sunglasses look ugly, or about how you got that internship he would’ve died for. 

Satoru manages to choke out a heavy, “I don’t understand.” But that uncomfortable coil of something curling at the pit of his stomach said otherwise. And it causes him to finally breathe out a hesitant, “Maybe you’re right.”

As if that was all the answer you needed, you’re stepping out of the front door. Slow, and deliberate like you were giving him another chance - a thousand more. Sighing out a defeated, “It’s been years.” It has. “And we’re just running in circles.” You have. “I’m starting to think this is just some game to you.” It wasn’t.

“Wait!” he grasps your hand - soft. The look in your eyes even softer as you turn around to face his desperate face. “Please, sweetheart.”

Satoru doesn’t even know what words he wants to say - let alone whether they’d come out of his heavy mouth. 

So, instead, he’s crashing them into yours. 

Brief. Fleeting. Like each one before this. Too addictive, too short, that he thinks he’s almost imagining it as you pull away gently, until he sees that look in your eyes. 

“Toru, I have a date.”

The fourth kiss.

Satoru’s letting go of you like it burned - and, truly, it felt like some deep, dark part of him was burning down right now. “Great.” That should be hm that should be him that should be- “I’m…happy for you.”

And the last.

He fucked up.

He really, really fucked up.

That first date turned into a second. The second into a third. And unfortunately for Gojo, eventually, you were nearing your one-year anniversary with that asshat you’d met during the early days of your internship. 

He’d seen the man himself once, briefly at another one of Suguru’s famous parties. Ducking out of sight before he could be introduced, yet long enough to know that he wasn’t as tall, or as handsome, or as absolutely fucking hilarious. 

What did he have that Satoru didn’t? 

The answer to that, Satoru’s reminded of every time he’s causing ruckus over at Suguru’s apartment, and sees you walking out of your room, tittering on the phone to none other than your boyfriend. So gorgeous. So not his. 

You, that loser had you.

“If you sigh again I swear I’m shoving this popcorn up your a-”

“It’s a sad movie, Suguru!” he defends, draped across your couch at another one of those movie nights you loved to organize. As usual, there was the popcorn, the god-awful movie (if Satoru picks it), and the arguments. The only thing missing, however, was you. Ugh, something about an “anniversary” and a “seafood date”. Seriously, it’s not like you even enjoyed that new seafood restaurant in town, and he’s sure that bastard didn’t know-

“Satoru.” his best friend’s deadpan voice cuts through his little reverie. “We’re watching Mean Girls.”

And he’s barely even opening his mouth to snark back before-

SLAM!

Suguru pauses the movie almost immediately, turning to the direction of the front door. “Uh oh.” 

And lo and behold - there was you in all your pissed off, beautiful glory. Throwing your keys on the table, your fiery glare passes over the two men as you stomp to your bedroom. 

“Seafood wasn’t that good, sweetheart?” Satoru calls out behind you, eyes sweeping down your figure. Heart stuttering in his chest when you turn around with your fists clenched, lower lip wobbling in a way that Satoru would both kill whoever made you feel this way and die to be on the other side of those daggers in your eye. 

Sniffing out an icy, “Fuck off, loser and loserette.”

Then in a whirlwind of rage, you’re gone - your bedroom door slamming only slightly more gently than you’d done with the front door. Leaving a deafening silence, and Satoru whining, “Why am I the loserette?”

“Deserved.” Suguru shrugs. Warily eyeing your door, as if it was about to pounce at any given second, “Let her cool down before you give her an aneurysm at least.” Unpausing the television, propping his feet back up, “S’enough having to deal with you on top of a boyfriend like that.”

And that has Satoru perking up in interest - both figuratively, and literally as he snatches the remote and pauses the movie. “Wait wait wait what-” Holding it way out of Suguru’s reach, “What do you mean a ‘boyfriend like that’?”

Scoffing, “Funny. Now give me back the remote.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two.

Only then does it dawn on Suguru that this might just not be some strange prank to stroke Satoru’s ego, and he was actually  more serious than he’d ever seen him. Damn. 

“Bro, have you really never met the guy or something? He’s a complete tool. I don’t know what happened, but this breakup was a long time coming.”

Satoru blinks, feeling a red hot surge of anger. “What? Seriously? Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“You think I didn’t try?” he sighs, running a hand through his hair at the other’s uncharacteristic silence. “Hah, and just imagine, the man was talking about marriage, too. As if.”

And suddenly, Satoru’s hit with an image of you walking down the aisle. Not something he was a stranger to, but it still takes him aback. The sway of the fabric beneath his fingers, your lips against his. Hell, in that split-second he even dreams up how Nanamin would be crying very reluctant tears of joy. 

Everything. Everything that wasn’t his.

His fist tightens around the remote, until he could hear the cracking of plastic. Mind whirling with the thought of you and him and you. How he wished it was him and you. “I would’ve been better.”

Oh. 

Shit. 

“I- fuck this. Suguru, since elementary school I…”

And, well, Satoru’s so busy putting that extra physics seminar he took in university to work - trying to calculate the odds of surviving a jump out of this seven-storey window - that he almost misses Suguru’s low hum, a distant, almost barely-audible little interruption, “Well duh.”

“Hold on.” he’s snatching away the remote that had somehow slithered its way into the other’s hands once again. Ignoring his best friend’s croak of protests to pause in the middle of Regina George being hit by the bus - which, he felt was strangely enviable right now. “That was- what? YOU KNOW?”

“Huh? Even my parents know, the only one that doesn’t is her.”

“...”

Satoru didn’t know how Suguru seemed so calm, but he felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. Heart stuttering in his chest as he sideglances at your firmly shut door - like he was just waiting for you to jump out and tell him this was some elaborate prank. 

Begging for you to come - it would’ve hurt less.

But you don’t.

Fuck. 

And the only response he gets is a low whistle, before a phone is being shoved in his face - flashlight illuminating that crimson blush. “Damn, the great Gojo Satoru speechless? The groupchat is gonna love this, might even send it to my sister, y’know.” 

He didn’t care - didn’t give a shit if this video made rounds to Gakuganji himself. Only one thought racing through his mind right now. 

“But why aren’t you punching me like in elementary school?” 

And Satoru knows he’s smart - intelligent even. Hell, he was the valedictorian, the youngest employee to claw their way up to being on the board of directors. But he’s never felt more stupid when Suguru breathes out a bewildered, “Dude. That was for blaming me for the paper planes.” 

“Oh.”

Then the movie is unpaused. 

---

The last time you kissed Gojo Satoru was at the doorstep to that overpriced penthouse of his, exactly a year ago today. 

The last time you saw Gojo Satoru was just a few hours ago, lounging around your living room like he owned it. Honestly, he might as well have been part of the furniture at this point - like some expensive, fluffy couch. One that prattled on about your “dumbass boyfriend” and god-knows-what else to rile you up just for the fun of it.

Which is why it was odd to step out of your bedroom - eyes just a bit puffy, throat still tight - to a suspiciously quiet hallway. 

The lights were turned off, nothing but the pouring rain sounding from outside, television paused on some rerun of The Princess Diaries. Damn, you told those idiots not to start that one without you.

“Sugu?” you call, finding his bedroom empty. “Thought tonight was movie night?” Padding across the empty apartment, contemplating whether or not to get your phone and call him when-

Ding!

Ah, there. 

You roll your eyes as you head towards the front door, ready to give Suguru a piece of his mind for going out at this ungodly hour and forgetting his key. Seriously, what if you opened the door and he was hurt, or worse, or…

Satoru. 

Speaking a mile a minute.

Satoru.

“-florist was closed and the store clerk looked at me like I was crazy but I got this for-” he pauses abruptly, as if realizing something with a jolt. “-you.”

“You- what-” you don’t know where to look - at the drenched, disheveled Satoru filling your doorframe - rain in his hair, curtaining his frantic eyes, drenching his snug t-shirt. Or at the obscenely large bouquet of cheap strawberry lollipops being placed gently into your arms. 

What follows was an electric silence - and you have half the mind to tease Satoru for finally shutting the fuck up for once in his life. 

But, no. Instead, you eye the way he stands stubbornly at the doorway, fists clenched, blue eyes locked so intensely on yours that it was like they burned. 

Face flushed a familiar pretty pink that makes you realize that shit, he might be taller, voice deeper, broad shoulders tight against his t-shirt - but this was still the same boy that cried when you stole his favorite Digimon card in middle school. The same one that kissed you underneath a dingy slide, smelling of strawberry lollipops.

It’s the steady tap! tap! tap! of the water droplets from his hair that have you tearing your traitorous eyes from his see-through white t-shirt.

Guess you’ve both done some growing up since then.

“You loser.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

The pink wrapping of the bouquet rustles as your grip tightens. “He proposed to me today, y’know.” and yet, your quiet, even voice was the only thing ringing in Satoru’s ears. He jolts, as if some visceral, primal part of himself had been poked awake. Breathing heavy, fists clenching until he could feel the neat indents of his fingernails on his palm. Of course. He’s late. He’s late he’s late he’s late-

That is, until you’re plowing on, “I said no.”

“Huh?”

You think back to the stuffy restaurant, the man sitting from across from you - how wrong it felt. And all it took were those four words for you to realize that. “I said no.” 

Satoru snaps his head up, stepping close - so close. Voice strained like he wasn’t asking - begging. Praying, “Why?”

“We…” you raise a brow at the way Satoru flinches as you trail off. So desperate. A smirk makes its way onto your face, “...we haven’t divorced yet, right?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you. 

Fuck, you don’t know - nor do you really care right now. Not when Satoru’s got his lips crashing against yours for the fifth time in your life, kissing you like it would be the last. Big arms dipping down to your waist, pulling you so tight against his muscled frame that he had half the mind to wonder whether it hurt. 

“Love this. Love the way you kiss me- fuck-” he’s spitting against your lips, kicking the door shut behind him. “Oh- would ya get mad if I-” he tries to get out through kisses. Only to suck on your pretty lips with a pained grunt. “If I-” Again and again, like it killed him to part. “-hah- celebrated right now?”

“Yes.” You’re letting the bouquet fall to the foor, white-knuckling that useless, drenched excuse of a shirt. “Now kiss me properly, Toru.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Such a sloppy mix of teeth and hands and him. Shoving a knee between your legs, making up for years and years of late nights with nothing but his fist and the pretty thought of you. 

“Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart.” Satoru breathes out, as your urgent fingers that dispose of his shirt, feeling the gorgeous dips and curves of years of hard work to impress you. “Suck on m’tongue pretty- fuck-” His own fisting your shirt, pulling. Ripping.

“Toru!”

“I want you.” He’s letting the poor, tattered pieces drop in a pile on the floor, trailing a hand between your damp thighs before he can stop himself. “Oh how I’ve wanted you. And I don’t care if I have to buy fifty new outfits to make up for it.”

And it’s the feeling of his long index stroking up your sopping slit through your shorts that has you pulling away with a gasp. Delicate little strings of saliva snapping from Satoru’s kiss-bitten lips. “If we continue like this…” your voice wavers as he presses hot kisses along your collarbone. “-my brother’s gonna walk in.”

“...wouldn’t wanna relive that playground kiss, huh?”

It’s all he says before picking you up so easily, hands resting on your ass. Giving a playful spank ass you wrap your legs around his toned waist. 

And it’s sloppy.

Both his lips still hotly on yours and the way he’s stumbling urgently to your room through pure muscle memory. Pulling away only when you’re all splayed out so prettily for him on your mattress.

“Blue?” he breathes, pulling your shorts off. And it comes out strained - like the very sight of your panties - all soaked and flimsy with your slick - has whatever’s remaining of Satoru’s sanity flying out the window. “Blue? Oh, you’ve gotta have planned this, you little minx.” his hot breath hits your cunt as he shifts down the bed, tongue drawing languid, wet little circles on your inner thigh. “Because don’t tell me this was all for him?”

It was coincidence - or maybe fate - but that doesn’t stop you from giving Satoru a slow, teasing nod. Muttering out, “So what if it was?”

The only answer you get is thumb hooked around your shorts, pulling it just enough so that your brother’s best friend can spy your pretty pussy.

“Well then.” he chuckles at the way you jump when his fingertip just barely grazes your clit. “Guess I jus’ hafta prove m’better.”

A low groan is falling from his lips as soon as they meet your puffy ones, giving your pretty clit a chaste peck. Lingering long enough that he’s sure your sweet sweet juices cover his mouth.

And oh Satoru’s sure he’ll never forget the way your jaw falls slack, glassy eyes following his every move as he runs his tongue along his glossy lips. Savoring your candied taste, “Never kissed you like this before, huh?” 

Fuck, you’re sweeter than he’s imagined.

You whine desperately, something that has him smirking smugly, “Hah, what? Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re better when you shut up.” It’s all you can do to buck your hips into Satoru’s pretty face - not that you had to, because one taste of your dripping cunt and he was addicted. Surging forwards until he was nose-deep, locking your ankles around his head with a firm yank.

And you can’t lie - maybe you’ve imagined this exact scene a few times before on those lonely nights. But you just never expected Satoru to be so depraved. Desperate.

“Ngh- fuck, Toru-” you reach a hand down to thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face up. But Satoru doesn’t stop - not even for a second. Tongue still dipping to spread your swollen folds with his tongue, looking you right in the eyes as he murmurs a strangled, “Mhm?” 

“Thought you were gonna prove you’re better, hm?”

So goading. So like you. 

At this, Satoru pulls back ever-so-slightly to laugh - laugh. His plump, glistening lips curling into a humorless little grin, “Oh I will.” Thumb circling your throbbing clit. Just dragging your twitching body across the silky sheets close to his, one hand pinning your hips down. Hard. “I will.”

Loving his new favorite place between your legs one hand toys with your clit, quick, messy little patterns. Tongue even more so. 

“Not just better.” he grunts, “Gonna make you cum so much harder, too.” Having your thighs shake with each word hissed out into your cunt, each turn of his deft fingers. “Till I’m the only thing on your mind. Me.”

And it’s all you can do to let out choked up groans of his name, back arching off the plush mattress to let him make out with your cunt deeper. Sloppier. So, so starved with the way he’s speeding up, tongue dragging across your walls. In and out in and out in and-

“Fuck! Hngh-” you angle his head - and he lets you. “There- Toru-”

Honestly, you didn’t even have to tell Satoru - he could feel it. Could feel it in the way your plushy walls are squeezing his hot tongue so harsh, until it was almost difficult to fuck your pussy so sloppily. In the way you’re letting out such delicious whines each time he grazes against those sweet spots. 

“There? Hah- I know.” he pulls away to muse, and your cute, disappointed whine goes straight to his already rock-hard cock. “Did he?”

He didn’t. And you’re shaking your head so pathetically - in a way you’d be embarrassed about usually. 

But that’s the last thing you’re thinking bout because you feel it - the cold, sinful feeling of Satoru spitting on your filthy cunt. Once. Twice. Blue eyes widening in delight at the way the mess of spit and slick drip down your slit. 

“Cute.” his tongue smoothes over the slutty pool, and the only thing your delirious brain can make out now is a low moan of, “So? Who’s better?”

It’s all you can do to choke out a broken little, “T-T-” Face burning at the way he was so clearly enjoying your struggle. And, well, no matter painfully hard it made his dick - he had to go just a bit easy on his girl, right?

“Shhhh, s’alright.” you flinch as he shoves two absolutely drenched fingers into your mouth, making so much more of a mess of it than necessary. Drinking in your cute gags, “I was asking her.” He’s making your head spin with the way he’s speeding up. “N’ she’s hah- very talkative.” Words muffled, and slurring together - like he was drunk off of you and your cunt. “Let’s hear what she has to ngh- say, huh?”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and squeezing into your sloppy entrance - like he couldn’t - didn’t - want to make up his mind. Oh, with your teary mewls strangled, the sound of Satoru making out with cunt is so loud. The squelches so obscene. 

“Fuuuuck.” he drawls. “Louder than I thought. I think she says I’m better, don’t you think?” 

You angle your head just right to catch the way his jaw grinds deeper into you, eating you out like his last meal. Your slick drooling down his chin so sinfully. 

“Ngh- fuck fuck fuck- ngh-” your yelps are dreamy, feeling like you were losing your mind with the way he was stretching you out. 

Like you were about to snap. Any second now. 

But Satoru’s only increasing his movements, drawing out your little moans. “And I think she’s saying…”  Getting sloppier. More erratic - and it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up now, cock aching with the need to be inside you. “-that she’s about to cum.”

You do - so hard and loud - both you and your cunt. 

You’re shaking, all but gushing all over Satoru’s mouth, tight pussy squeezing his tongue so hard. Barely even realizing the searing grip you’ve got on his hair as you drag your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.

But Satoru doesn’t mind - he gladly welcomes it, in fact. Tonguefucking your snug cunt senselessly, letting you chase your high as roughly as you wanted. Over and over.

Even when you’re vision isn’t as spotty as before, even when nothing’s coming out of your mouth but little whimpers. Your breathing dying down until all that rings in your barely-lucid mind were those obscene noises of Satoru’s lips all on yours. 

“T-Toru-” you whine, big fat tears pricking at your hazy eyes. “M’so sensitive.”

And of course this is Satoru, the same boy who’s been pushing your buttons for years just to giggle at your adorable reactions. Which is why he grins against your twitching cunt, “So?”

It takes everything in you to raise your head off the pillow that just seemed to be swallowing you whole, and even more to shoot Satoru a half-hearted glare. “So m’gonna ngh- assume you’re jus’ a pussy with a s-smaller dick than-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence - he doesn’t let you. Because Satoru’s fumbling with his belt, peeling off those still-drenched pants just enough for you to admire his clothed erection. 

And, shit, admittedly you expected him to have a big dick - having been subjected to way too much locker room talk with your brother - but this was ridiculous. 

“What? Too big?” He flashes you that infuriating grin. Palming his rock-hard cock through his boxers at the way your beautiful eyes trace the outline of his cock, all swollen and big. So intimidatingly big. “Damn, sweetheart, if I knew that this was how I’d get that feisty lil’ mouth of yours to shut up then I’d have done it a lot sooner.” 

And you don’t even know if you’re breathing, the pads of your fingers dancing along his bulge. Tracing those prominent veins. Thumbing that little damp spot at his fat head. “You wouldn’t have.” 

He hisses as your soft hands dip into the hem of his underwear. Voice cracking slightly, “I wouldn’t.”

Then you’re gasping - in sync with Satoru’s low moan - as you finally let him spring free. Thick cock hitting his sculpted abs, red tip smearing precum in a lewd little pool. Weeping and so so angry at the sight of you.

At the heavenly feeling of your thumb teasing under his sensitive slit, “Oh, shit.” 

He’s throwing his head back when you give an experimental pump, all the way from his pretty tip to the tufts fo white at his hilt. Fist gliding all over the thumping veins. Bucking his hips up like such a slut into your touch. 

“O-oh fuck.” he cracks an eye open at the way your hand looked so small compared to his dick, how well you were taking care of him. “Been ngh- dreaming of this since I learned what handjobs were, y’know? Hah- shit- ya gotta stop before I fuckin’ pass out.”

And Satoru thinks he could cum right then and there at the way you’re bringing your soaked index up to your mouth. Batting your lashes as you suck on them with a lewd pop! “From jus’ that?”

“You have no idea.”

That’s all it takes for Satoru to throw your still-quivering thighs over his shoulders, effectively shutting up whatever tease is on the tip of your sharp tongue by kissing your swollen folds with his fat head. Giving it one, long drag. 

Your mouth is sagging open at the slow, torturous teasing. The sheer anticipation that had your mouth running, “S-so much for ah- jus’ being ‘friends’, huh?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” And you’re flinching from Satoru’s deep, dark tone. The way he’s bracing his fingers so bruisingly on your hips, reeling all the way back till his tip was just kissing your hole. “We stopped being friends the day you married me on that playground.” 

And then he’s slamming in - pushing past that first, feeble ring of resistance, gummy walls stretching out so perfectly for him. As if he fit right in - and he tells you that. Pants it into your open mouth a little over fifteen times, in fact. 

“Shiiiit, look at you.” he can’t tear his eyes away from the side of your lips stretching so wide to try and milk him. Sloppy entrance stretching out like magic. “S’like you’re made for me, huh? This pussy is made f’me?”

“Ngh- fuck, Toru! S’too big-” you keen, feet flattening on the mattress. As if to escape. To maybe fucking breathe.  

Not even half-way in yet, but aleady torn between pushing away and sinking yourself down on his swollen cock for more more more-

“Don’t you dare run away.” he warns, looking up at you through his long lashes. “I’ve waited too long for this. N’ you’re not taking this pretty pussy away any time soon.” Inch by fucking inch. Grinding in short, sharps jabs - no rhythm of rhyme, like they were genuinely out of control. “Way too f-fuckin’-” All the way until your puffy folds was meeting his hilt. Finally. All the way in. “-long.”

And once Satoru had you split apart on his dick - had those tears rolling down your cheeks, cunt swallowing him so sluttily - it’s like something snaps. 

Because he doesn’t waste a second - he’s already wasted almost two decades, anyway - filling you up with his mean hips. Not fucking easing you into it because you always did bring out that part of him, the part that him looping two strong arms around your waist. Pulling. 

“Oh- f-fuck c’mere.” Satoru gasps, pressing your body so crushingly against his. Kissing your shaky shoulers, your sweaty forehead, the gentleness so contrasting to his hips.“God I’ve missed out- fuck fuck fuck-” 

You’ve never seen the great Gojo Satoru - campus sex symbol - so uncomposed. Eyes half-lidded, just boring into yours, mouth slack in a soft oh! as he drags his cock all over inside your gummy walls. And the sight is so heavenly that you make the mistake the mistake of cracking a minute smile.

Just barely curling your lips before - “Don’t smile at me like that.” He’s dipping down a hand to roll your ravaged clit between two bullying fingers. “Fuck, she’s gonna be the death of me. Right?”

You keen at the- stimulation? The strech? The sheer embarrassment as you realize that Satou’s still talking to your sloppy pussy? Nodding so mockingly up at you as he plows on, “Mhm, she says you needa be ngh- knocked down a god, you’re tight- peg or two. So- get- ready-” 

He’s using this as an excuse to sit up on his knees, dragging you onto his lap so easily like some ragdoll. 

“That’s more like it.”

You’re sliding deeper down his painfully hard cock - all the way till his heavy balls rest beneath your ass, clit rubbing against his pelvis every time he bounces you like some slut.  

Deep. Ruthless.

“Keep your eyes open, sweetheart.” He chuckles, and you’re screwing open your eyes that you don’t even remember shutting. Trying so hard to stop crying out at the feeling of the curve of his dick massaging your walls. “Ya gotta hngh- see the o-only one who’d fuckin’ you properly, right?”

You squeal when he’s taking your clit captive once more. Finger quick, deft. “Y-yes.”

But that wasn’t enough for Satoru - it might as well never be. Because he’s only ramming his hips up further. Like he’s pushing into your stomach, your lungs, all the way into your cockdrunk brain. Fat head alternating between kissing your poor, abused cervix and all those sweet spots he’d mapped out with his tongue.

“Sounded unsure to me.” he’s pouty against your hardened nipples bouncing enticingly in his face. Fingers quirking faster on your clit, “Maybe I should ngh- stop then?”

“No!” Your hips stutter against Satoru’s. Nails clawing down the sculpted panes of his shoulders, leaving red angry marks for him to take as a sign tomorrow morning that no, it wasn’t just one of his dreams this time. “No no no- m’sure. You’re the only one makin’ me feel this way.”

You can feel the way he’s twitching wildly at your words, dick thumping harder inside your sensitive cunt. 

He punctures each word with a heavy, calculated thrust. Hand stretching and squeezing open your cunt from behind to let him slide impossibly deeper. “Hmmm, I’m not convinced.” 

Your stupid mouth is only capable of letting out broken, choked-up little moans of his name, ankles locking around those dimples at the end of his spine. “S’you–”

“Still not convinced.”

But he’s still speeding up his movements, just dragging you up and down his cock. “Who else made you hah- feel this good?” Sure to claim you from the inside out - to leave marks everywhere. Heavy balls on your ass, weeping tip on your cervix, lips bruised as you whimper at his murmured, “That ex of yours?” Biting down your neck, “That barista that always flirts with you?” Pulling away only to breathe into your lips, “Who?”

“ I- fuck it’s only you, Toru.”

“Sound convincing to you?” Satoru hums down at your cunt, biting his lower lip at the way you were milking him so good. Your slick soaking him all the way down to his balls - so needy in a way he never thought he’d see. “Yeah-” be breathes, nosing at your neck. “She agrees- fuck does this tight lil’ pussy of yours agree.” A few tears, a few gorgeous marks down his back, and he was finally convinced. “You’re mine.”

You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming, and Satoru doesn’t either.

Both of you too caught up in each other to recognize that familiar, white-hot pleasure running down your spine - all the way down to where he was so mercilessly buried in your cunt.  

And you’re well into the blood roaring deafeningly in your ears, the sight of Satoru - all wrecked - blurring as he fucks his hips up. Harsh. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he paints your quivering walls white. 

Cumming and cumming so hard that you can feel his seed dribbling down your thighs, making such a mess all over Satoru’s lap. Your poor, overfilled cunt soon bloated and unable to keep up with it.

“Toru–” you whine, like a prayer. Milking the fucking soul out of him while he gently paws at your messy hair.

“Shhh, I know I know, sweetheart.” Such a stark contrast to the way he was filling you up like his favorite sex toy. Not even bothering to move anymore, one hand on your hip, moving your limp body up and down his sensitive cock to fuck it deeper. The other still playing with your clit, “S’alright, my girl”

Satoru’s hands never leave you, and he prays that now that he got a taste - well, you better be alright with them not leaving you for as long as he lives.

“As long as you live, huh?” you chuckle groggily, a noise so dreamy that Satoru can’t even be mad that he said it out loud. “And all that riling me up these years. Do you have a degradation kink or something?”

“Well, only one way to find out~”

“Oh shut up you-”

SLAM!

“Yooo, I bought dinner from that- WHAT THE FUCK?”

There were only two more lessons to be learned:

Always lock the door. Always. And in case you don’t, a bouquet of lollipops will do the trick to a Suguru reeling from the newest addition to the family. 

Cheap takeout tastes better with an apologetic Suguru, and an ice pack to his cheek - and you to kiss it better.

A/N. Can you tell I kept listening to that one Artemas song while writing this?

Plagiarism not authorized.

[coffee-and-geto]

“HOW CAN I LOVE WHEN I’M AFRAID TO FALL?”

“I fell in love with you as soon as I saw you, as soon as you covered me from my father, as soon as I heard your laugh, saw the amazing mother you are, and realized I never wanted you to leave this house.”

✧ pairing: CEO! satoru gojo x f!reader

✧ summary: to your almost regret, your life as a single mother seems to be weighing more and more heavily on your worn-out shoulders. so what could be better than pretending to be the CEO’s girlfriend of the business you work for, knowing that his father is the general manager?

✧ warnings: +18 only, smut, nsfw, her daughter is called hinata, fake dating/single mom tropes, angst, mother insecurities, fluff, reader’s ex is a jerk, unprotected sex, sex (p in v), overstimulation, pussy drunk (satoru), nipple play, fingering (f!receiving), oral (m), this fic is (really slightly) inspired from the french book ‘un printemps pour te succomber’ by morgane moncomble, including therefore small similar dialogues, (pls guys learn french only to read this masterpiece!!), fanart by @/ilameys on twt.

✧ wc: 10,154

“Can I taste the frosting?”

Your lips curve into a smile. “Of course, angel.” You crouch down and hand the spatula coated in pastel pink frosting to your five-year-old daughter. Her little fist wraps around the handle, and joy spreads across her angelic face like rays of sunshine. “So? How is it?”

“It’s so good!” she exclaims, and you chuckle.

“I’m glad you like it.” You glance at the clock in your kitchen. “I’ll put the frosting in the fridge. While the cake bakes, go back to playing, and I’ll call you to help decorate the cake as soon as it’s ready, okay?”

Hinata nods, blowing you a kiss that you return after a moment of surprised hesitation, your lips forming an “O”. Amid delighted laughter, she skips away, and you turn back to face the bowl of cake batter.

Why does it have to be so hard?

Every birthday, you hold back tears because who said ‘single mom’ doesn’t rhyme with ‘baking your own birthday cake so your daughter can sing to you’? But what hurts more — this, or seeing your flesh and blood envy her female friends who have their dads in their arms and their mothers content with their families?

The silence of loneliness can sometimes be louder than company.

“Happy birthday! Happy birthday, mama!” your daughter sings, clapping her hands as you blow out your candles in the warm, yet dimly lit, living room. “Come on, come on! Let’s eat the cake!”

With a knife, you cut two slices, one for each of you, and it only takes a few more minutes for both your mouths to be covered in pink frosting, with laughter echoing in the room. The heartache, briefly chased away by the short-lived joy, returns later that night when your daughter snuggles up in your arms in your double bed, which seems to be missing something.

Fuck, being a single mom is tough, you think as you wipe away the tears flooding your cheeks with the back of your hand. No one to support you, all the responsibilities fall on your shoulders, and now doubts about your daughter start invading your mind: “What if she blames you later for not having a father?”, “What if she thinks you’re a bad mom?”, “Do her friends at school say anything about you being the only unmarried woman among all the parents in her class?”

These thoughts have never stopped, not even during your pregnancy, whether about the weight gained or lost, or the changes in your body. Are these regrets? But how could you regret bringing such an angel into the world? Maybe it’s more about the lousy partner who left you the second he found out you were pregnant.

Probably the second option.

°°°

“WHERE IS MY SON?!”

A male voice thunders across the entire floor of the company. You jump, turning to one of your colleagues over the small partition set up for employee privacy. “Who’s yelling like that?” you whisper, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I heard it’s the new general manager…”

Your frown deepens. “Is that why they handed me the summary of our sales figures to drop off at the office upstairs?” To prove your point, you lift the massive stack of documents.

Your colleague presses his lips together, his eyes widening in a way that already gives you the answer. “Oh God, you’re the one in charge of that? Good luck. It’s to be delivered to the new director.”

A sigh escapes your lips.

For a start to the workweek, it seems you’re about to face the stormy mood of the new boss, who apparently brought his kid to the office. What a perfect beginning.

As usual, the upper floor is deserted, as it’s generally reserved for executives with direct ties to the company’s CEO. Few people take the elevator to reach the top floor of the skyscraper. Arriving in the lonely hallway, it should be a simple task to knock on the boss’s office door, drop off the elephant-weight stack of documents, and leave.

So why does the sound of running footsteps seem to be getting closer and closer behind you?

In a flash, a man dressed in a navy blue suit rushes past you, bumping your shoulder. He nearly topples the threatening stack of papers, but you manage, at the last second, to catch everything before you lose your balance. The young man opens the door to the women’s restroom, and before entering, he glances over his shoulder.

Never in your life have eyes made such an impression on you.

Two cerulean blue orbs lock onto yours with a mischievous aura. A smirk tugs at the corner of his thin, pink lips. From his pale skin to his albino hair, the man exudes charm and beauty from every pore. The sheer allure of his appearance leaves your brain too stunned to react, numbing it. How can someone be this handsome?

“SATORU!”

His serene and amused expression vanishes instantly, and you jump in response. Replaced by an exaggerated look of fear, he addresses you, “Cover for me. If he asks you, you never saw me!” And his tall, slender body disappears into the women’s restroom.

More footsteps echo down the hallway, this time from a second man, just as tall and physically similar to the young man you just encountered — though slightly older, with wrinkles lining his face and a mix of albino hair and silver from age. You have no time to react except to straighten up against the wall.

His blue eyes, more gray and stern, settle on you as he approaches. “Did you see a man? A tall idiot running around and flirting with any woman he sees,” he grumbles the last part, his eyes thoughtfully fixed on the light carpet.

You shake your head robotically. “No… I—”

“Never mind,” he cuts you off with a dismissive wave of his hand — as if your answer is irrelevant and he’s heard it at least twenty times before. He sighs and scratches at the stubble on his chin. “Who are you, anyway?”

“An employee, sir.” You gesture to the stack of documents that’s beginning to make its weight known in your arms. “I was asked to drop this off in your office.” The tone of your voice almost pleads with him to let you in and relieve you of the annoying burden.

“The report? Ah yes, of course.” You sigh in relief as he unlocks the door with his keys. “I suppose you’re wondering who I am?”

“The new general manager, I guess?” you reply, raising an eyebrow. You drop the heavy stack onto the desk and exhale deeply. “We heard you on every floor.” You can’t help but chuckle at your own remark, offering the director an apologetic smile.

He rolls his eyes, but a light chuckle still rumbles in his chest. “You’re right. It’s because of my son.”

His son?

You repeat the word aloud, confused, and he clarifies. “My son is the new CEO of this company, and I almost regret my decision to give him that position.” He shakes his head, his gaze drifting toward the blue sky visible through the large window, then refocuses on you. “I apologize in advance. He’s going to be a real handful.”

“I understand. I think we’ll manage to put up with him,” you add with a smile.

In the end, this new boss doesn’t seem as strict as your colleagues have been saying, and his story about his son is more amusing than anything. You cough slightly into your elbow and clear your throat, murmuring an apology.

“Are you sick?” the director inquires.

“A little,” you admit reluctantly, feeling embarrassed as you adjust the mask on your face. “Sorry. I couldn’t stay home.”

“No problem.” He crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. “Well, I think I have some work to do. See you later, I suppose.”

You don’t hesitate to leave the boss’s office and quietly step into the women’s restroom. “Is… someone here?” you murmur in a hoarse voice.

The creaking of a door answers you, and the general manager’s son emerges from a stall, looking cautious. He looks like a little boy checking to see if his hiding spot in a game of hide-and-seek has been discovered, which makes you stifle a discreet giggle. He turns to you and offers an apologetic smile. “Sorry about earlier. I didn’t hurt you, did I, sweetheart?”

The nickname catches you off guard, and warmth floods your face. “N-No, I’m fine. You’re the new CEO, right?”

“Satoru Gojo, at your service, pretty girl.” He winks, a reminder that he’s quite the flirt.

You introduce yourself in return, running out of things to say, your hands nervously clasped by your sides.

“Pretty name,” Satoru murmurs. He closes the stall door behind him and exhales, shaking his head. “Phew! That was a close one! Thanks again!” He strides toward the exit with one last charming smile in your direction, leaving the restroom and a lingering scent of cologne behind him.

°°°°

“Why aren’t you answering?”

“Damn it, you’re so annoying with this!”

“There’s no point in moving every few months, I’m going to find you.”

“For fuck’s sake, answer my messages! I told you I need you! I swear I’ll help you raise Hinata this time.”

“I made a mistake, so let me fix it by answering my fucking messages! I know you’re reading them!”

You swallow hard, your throat tight, and press the “block this contact” button on your phone. It’s the fourth time this month. He’s been harassing you with messages and finding a way to contact you no matter how many numbers he uses, even when you change yours. The same goes for your address, as apparently changing apartments is no longer enough to escape him.

You know he’s in debt — one of the many consequences of his excessive gambling, even when you were still in a relationship with him. Smoking, drinking, and of course, downing tobacco like it was water, only to charm you while hiding this lifestyle to get you into his bed, then fleeing the moment you were pregnant.

So now that he needs a woman and a child to escape his debts, he’s reaching out to you — the woman he abandoned after promising marriage (without a ring, of course), got pregnant, and deserted, only to come crawling back to you.

“Mama? You okay?”

Your daughter’s concerned little voice pulls you out of your daze. The cartoons playing on the TV haven’t had the desired effect — they’re not distracting her from the anxiety that’s been gnawing at you day by day. Maybe today, it’s showing enough for people to notice?

“I’m fine, angel,” you reassure her with a perfect smile — perfectly fake, because that’s something you’ve learned to anchor over time.

You pat the empty spot on the couch next to you, and she nestles under your arm. “If you say so…” Hina murmurs, clutching her worn-out bunny plush.

The state of the plush catches your attention, and a pang of guilt stabs at your heart. What kind of mother lets her daughter carry around a stuffed toy in such poor condition? Maybe you are a bad mother? Otherwise, why would Hina deserve such a pitiful situation? She deserves so much better than you…

“Little angel?” you murmur as she wraps her tiny arms around your waist and nuzzles into your belly. “Are you okay?”

“I love you.”

And the three little words sound… unreal.

Hot tears blur your vision, and it takes every bit of strength you have to whisper back, “I love you too, Hina.”

°°°°

3:00 PM.

In less than an hour, you’ll need to pick up Hinata from school.

Normally, you avoid lingering at work. You go through your usual routine as an employee, nothing special or fun — a hello, goodbye, see you tomorrow to colleagues without worrying about what’s happening around you or the gossip, even when it involves coworkers getting together.

The only change: now it’s you who gets stuck with the task of delivering all the documents to the general manager. According to one of your peers, he doesn’t seem to be strict or threatening when it comes to you. So this time, you’re tasked with delivering an additional file about the production of a new product on the market to both the CEO and the general manager. For the second time, you head up to the highest floors of the company headquarters to knock on the CEO’s door — it’s the closest. But no one answers.

No surprise, since the director’s son spends his time running through the hallways to avoid his father and shirk his responsibilities, right?

You’re about to knock on the Director’s door, but a familiar gust of wind brushes your face with a soft, fresh breeze. Satoru Gojo appears beside you with a charming smile and glances at what you’re holding.

“H-Hello, sweetheart. How are… you?” he greets, slightly out of breath from yet another chase with his father.

“I’m fine. Here.” You hand him one of the folders, and he takes it, pretending to read it. “The next meeting—” But he grabs the second document and, before you can react, opens the door to his office and casually tosses them inside before shutting the door.

“SATORU GOJO! KEEP IT UP, AND I’LL DISOWN YOU!” The boss’s voice echoes through the entire floor as he appears from behind the emergency exit door. “YOU!” He points a finger at you, standing right next to him. “Still bothering our employees?” He grumbles, his jaw clenched so tightly that you can hear his teeth grinding.

“That’s not true, father!” Satoru protests, feigning outrage. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. “You’re chasing me while I’m just saying hello to my girlfriend?”

You freeze, turning your head toward him, as lost as the Director, who squints his eyes. “Your girlfriend? Since when—”

“I was going to tell you,” Satoru continues, shaking his head, his fingers squeezing your waist while you remain paralyzed. “Here’s my new girlfriend.”

“Are you lying to me and dragging some poor woman into your childish games?”

In the back of your mind, you note that he doesn’t seem to recognize you despite the last time you saw each other.

“What? I’m telling the truth! Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” And he leans in to plant an affectionate kiss on your cheek.

Your heart almost stops for a second. But you quickly snap back to reality under the insistent embrace of his arm and his hand around you. “Y-Yes…”

What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into?

“Well, if you’ll excuse us, father, my darling and I are in a hurry.” He leads you away before you have time to protest and heads toward the elevator with you.

Once the doors close, Satoru takes your hands in his and leans toward you. “I can explain everything.”

If his cerulean blue eyes hadn’t been so persuasive, you would have exploded right there and then to yell at him.

You, the girlfriend of the CEO of the company you work for? Did this really have to happen to you? You can already picture your termination letter under your nose as you exit the back of the building. A glance at your watch tells you that if you don’t hurry, you’ll be late to pick up your daughter.

“You’re in a rush?”

“I have to pick up my daughter before I’m late,” you reply curtly, “and look at the mess I’m in now!”

“I know, I know…” Satoru rubs the back of his head, right where his immaculate undercut is. “Maybe I can explain on the way? Where’s your car?” He looks around the parking lot, his eyes searching.

The question — however mundane — makes you blush with embarrassment. “I… take public transportation…” you mumble, pouting.

He furrows his brow, as if you just admitted to showering with maggot-infested soap. “Excuse me? I don’t take public transportation.”

“Well, I do.” A hint of defiance returns to protect your pride.

How could he possibly understand when he lives like a rich man, without worrying about grocery shopping, paying bills, and of course, taking public transportation during the week to avoid wasting gas because it costs an arm and a leg! But for him, that must not be part of his daily life, especially since he’s one of society’s privileged.

“Let’s take my car then.” He says this without waiting for you, as you remain standing there. He pulls out his keys and opens the passenger door. “What are you waiting for?”

“But— I— Are you out of your mind?” you burst out. “I’m not getting in that car! I’m supposed to pick up my daughter, and now I’m pretending to be your girlfriend! In front of your father!” You emphasize your words with wild, energetic gestures.

He bursts out laughing.

Cute.

“No chance. We’re going to pick up your daughter and clear this all up. And please, stop refusing to get into a car that’s way better than those buses that reek of sweat.” He rolls his eyes, and you note how much he resembles his father when he does that.

“I have an errand to run anyway,” you persist.

“And that doesn’t change the fact that I want you to get in this car,” Satoru chuckles.

Taking a closer look, the car is as luxurious as the ones you dream about at night — yours, by comparison, looks like a junk heap ready for the scrapyard. Reluctantly, you climb in, Satoru’s chivalrous demeanor not going unnoticed as he snickers at your surrender. He quickly gets in, asks for the address of the school, and sets off after starting his car, which smells just as good as he does. You feel like a piece of trash in the middle of this little universe he inhabits.

“My father bugs me every day to find a woman,” Satoru murmurs at first, one hand resting on his thigh, clad in business suit trousers, his eyes fixed on the road over his round sunglasses. “That’s one of the reasons I avoid him.”

“And why involve me?” you snap back.

“Well, to be honest, it was partly impulsive. I met you the other day, and then, in the moment, I just wanted my father to leave me alone.” He has a half-smile that makes you swallow hard, and he gives you a knowing look before returning to a serious expression. “I’m sorry for dragging you into all this.” A pause. “I just hope you’re not married, otherwise—”

“No, I— No.” You close your eyes for a moment, the innocent question burning like a fiery arrow piercing your already aching heart. Did you just hear a sigh of relief? “And your father doesn’t seem to have recognized me since the other day,” you can’t help but point out.

“The mask.” Satoru grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. “He didn’t recognize you because of that. He’s always had a bad memory and poor eyesight.”

“But you recognized me.” You focus on the road’s scenery to avoid confronting his mesmerizing eyes. “I’m not going to wear my mask forever, you know? And I don’t want to keep pretending—”

“Please,” Satoru whispers, placing a hand on yours, sending a shiver down your spine. “Just until he and my family get off my back.”

“I’m sorry, but—”

“How much do you want?” He asks immediately, as if he just remembered something.

“What? No! I don’t want your money!” you protest as quickly as he did. “No, I…” And you groan, sinking into your seat.

Holy shit!

“What have I gotten myself into, seriously…” you moan, crossing your arms over your chest, a grimace distorting your features.

“Please. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’ll do everything to make it just a minor detail… I’m only asking you to change your name in front of my father when you pass as my girlfriend, wear a mask, and change your hairstyle at work — if we want to avoid suspicion. He won’t suspect a thing, I swear.” He pulls into the school parking lot and parks quietly.

Thoughts bombard your already exhausted mind, and you massage your temples. Why does this have to happen to you and no one else?

Satoru murmurs your name, making you lift your head. “It will only be a few family events, just for appearances, nothing more. I won’t bother you any further.”

You sigh, and the sound of the bell signaling the end of classes rings out. “I need to think about it. Thanks for the ride. Have a nice—”

“Come back. I’ll take you home,” Satoru suggests, pressing the button to unlock your door.

What’s the point of refusing?

You nod, finally getting out of the car to go pick up your daughter, who runs toward you as soon as you reach the gate.

"Mama!" She jumps into your arms.

You return her embrace, heading towards Satoru’s car. “Did you have a good day?”

“So much fun! I made you a drawing!” She’s practically bouncing as you reach the car.

Noticing your daughter’s confused look, you clear your throat. “Uh… A-A friend of mine is giving us a ride home, okay?” She blinks innocently and waits for you to open the car door, which is almost as tall as she is. Hinata gets in as you do, and you cough slightly. “This is Gojo. My friend.”

“Hello, princess.” Satoru turns his head over his shoulder with a big smile. “What’s your name?”

“Hinata,” she replies, her legs gently swinging.

“Very pretty.”

“Thank you.” She blushes and tries to hide a smile.

On the way, you try to fill the awkward silences with small talk until you arrive at the supermarket.

You had promised to buy Hinata a new stuffed animal since last night after spending hours worrying that you weren’t being a good mother. Again.

“That one!” Hinata almost runs towards a bunny plushie that’s twice the size of her head. She grabs it with her little arms and gives it a hug.

Satoru and you reach the aisle, and out of habit, you check the price under the albino’s watchful eye. Your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when you see the amount, and you place a trembling hand on Hina’s shoulder. “Angel, I think it’s—”

“…Perfect,” Satoru finishes, his large hands taking the plushie from your daughter’s tight embrace to check the price tag with its shocking number. “Do you like it, little one?” he asks, looking down at her.

Hina nods energetically. “Yeah!”

“Then we’ll take it.” Satoru hands the plushie back to her and turns towards the checkout lane, already reaching into one of his pockets for what looks like… a wallet.

You react immediately, your hands finding their way around his arm. He doesn’t push you away at all and even smiles at the contact. “Gojo… No.”

“It’s Satoru to you, sweetheart,” he whispers gently. “And why not? It’s just a stuffed animal,” he scoffs. He takes Hinata’s hand so she can place the plushie on the conveyor belt.

“No, it’s not nothing to me,” you persist through clenched teeth, embarrassed that the cashier might be paying attention to your conversation.

Satoru shrugs. The cashier scans the plushie, and he uses contactless payment to pay for it. With your hands still around his arm, he places one of his on top, an intimate closeness.

“I could get used to this,” he murmurs near your ear, making you turn beet red. But he can’t continue as your daughter clings to Satoru’s leg like a koala, showering him with a thousand thank-yous for the gift. “You’re welcome, little one.” His hand gently ruffles her hair. He grins, now turning back to you. “It’s on me. You don’t owe me anything.”

Your discreet protests, so Hinata doesn’t suspect anything, come to an end when he drops both of you off in front of your home. Hinata commented that Satoru’s car looked like the one from the movie Barbie: Princess Charm School she had seen recently. He unlocks the doors as you get out of the car. Satoru’s hand catches yours, slipping a piece of cardstock into it. His contact details are on it.

“Just in case,” he mouths silently.

Nevertheless, you slip the business card into your pocket and respond just before closing the door, “I accept.”

°°°°

“And no funny business, okay? Never run in the hallways, if he tells you to wait, don’t move an inch, and—” You stop yourself as you notice your daughter is more interested in admiring the elegant decorations of the office hallways with wide, doe-like eyes and an adorable, slightly open mouth.

To your great misfortune, Hinata’s preschool is on strike for a while — which means almost all the teachers are absent. So how do you take care of your daughter when you can’t afford to miss work? By bringing her to your fake boyfriend’s office, of course! You quickly make your way toward Satoru’s office, Hinata following with her hand in yours. But just as you raise your fist to knock on his door, two large hands land on your shoulders, nearly scaring the life out of you.

“Hey, hey!” You whip around abruptly, a new mask on your face — just as the plan intended.

“Satoru…” you grit through your teeth. Hinata looks up at him and grins. You sigh.

“What do I owe the pleasure of all this lovely company?” Satoru asks, not taking his eyes off yours while giving Hinata a high-five.

As usual, he’s dressed in a luxurious suit — probably worth the rent of the apartment you live in — his slightly tousled albino hair and the familiar scent of cologne filling your nostrils. You catch yourself staring a little too long, and mentally kick yourself when his curious gaze turns mischievous.

He just realized you were checking him out, damn it!

“Hinata’s school is on strike. I need you to watch her for the day, if that’s not a problem, and since you seemed so insistent on returning the favor I’m doing for you…” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. “I see you’re spending your day roaming the offices rather than staying in yours…”

“No problem at all,” Satoru replies automatically, a pleased smile on his lips. “Ready to go to the CEO’s office?” He picks up Hina, who giggles and clings to him like a koala.

It’s your turn to smile in relief. “Thank you so much. I have a meeting with your father in an hour, and I’ll come get her at noon and again at the end of the day.” The sight of the two of them close together makes your heart melt — and for once, you don’t blame yourself for seeing Hinata happy to be with someone else.

°°°°

5:00 PM.

You’ve sent a message to Satoru asking where he was, since knocking on his perpetually empty office seems to be pointless. The meeting with the other company members about organizing the launch of a new product was particularly painful, but one thing is certain: the general manager didn’t recognize you with your more subdued hairstyle and the mask plastered on your face.

“Come to the parking lot like last time.”

And that’s the last message from Satoru (you gave him your number during lunch).

In the empty parking lot, only Satoru’s car is present, and you cast a curious glance through the windows. The two troublemakers give you a grimace — tongues sticking out and faces scrunched up. You sigh as the passenger door opens automatically.

“Satoru, you don’t have to—”

“Hina said yes and that she wants to come to my place,” Satoru cuts in with a mocking expression.

Reluctantly, you get in, your heart pounding in your chest with all sorts of panicked thoughts. However, Satoru doesn’t seem to share your reservations and starts driving as soon as you’re settled.

“So, this means you’re coming to my place,” he says, hands on the wheel and a quick glance in the rearview mirror, “and I’m inviting you to dinner.”

“No—”

“Mom! Please, Satoru is being too nice.” Hinata complains. You glance back, and she looks at you with wounded, pleading puppy eyes, arms crossed over her chest.

You grumble, slumping back against your seat as they both cheer in victory.

“By the way, I’m stopping by your place so you can pack. We’re invited to a family wedding, and my father invited us.”

“WHAT?”

°°°°

You place a box with your gift on the designated table for presents, and an arm wraps around your waist. “You look stunning,” Satoru murmurs against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, which breaks out in goosebumps.

With a flushed face, you turn your head. “Satoru…”

“What? Just because we’re pretending to be a couple and barely know each other doesn’t mean I can’t speak the truth.” He pauses. “Well, actually, we do know each other a bit, don’t we? We’ve had dinner together.” He chuckles at your half-grimacing, half-deadpan expression, pulling you closer as music fills the wedding reception hall.

You turn your head along with him toward the back of the room, where the bride’s bouquet is about to be thrown. A tight smile curves your lips — this is one thing you’ve dreamed of. Dreams have always been just that — dreams in your life, and even when love comes knocking at your door, it’s only passing through, just like your situation with Satoru.

His father didn’t notice anything, and since Satoru lives alone in a villa, it’s hard to say no when he offered for you to stay with him until he’s settled, with your own room and a staff available 24/7. He even had a tailor make a custom dress for the wedding you were both invited to. Hinata is looked after by a lovely nurse, and you’re enjoying a life you’ve always dreamed of. So why not make the most of it despite your past?

A Satoru who’s too comfortable with you isn’t so bothersome given the time you’ve spent together lately — both at the office, acting as a couple in front of certain people, and sometimes showing affection to each other to appear believable, even though they haven’t asked for kisses yet, so—

A fluffy and soft object lands right in the middle of your face and falls into your arms. You search for what seems to be a petal in your mouth and suck in your breath at what you realize it is.

The bride’s bouquet.

A gulp forces its way down your throat as the whole room applauds because… you’ve been hit in the face with the bouquet? Not to mention the lamentations of other female cousins who had jumped with all their hopes to catch it… But why you, who hadn’t asked for anything?

“Sweetheart?” Satoru mutters, his chest still pressed against your back. His tone is so sweet, nonchalant, as if you’ve been a couple for years. “My father is watching us, and I think he’s expecting me to do something.”

You swallow and nod, dreading what might happen next. Will your heart stop beating when Satoru says:

“May I kiss you?”

Never, ever, has anyone asked you that question. Not even your ex.

So, with a nervous nod, you allow him to capture your lips in a soft, languid kiss. His tender lips taste like the cotton candy children eat at the fair. They cherish yours with every movement (which you can’t help but return in kind). Each press sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

When the kiss ends, Satoru places one last kiss on the corner of your lips and clears his throat. “This is the first time I’ve wanted to marry my girlfriend.” His warm breath ignites your body.

Has your heart exploded?

If not, why can’t you breathe?

“Awww… How adorable you are with your pretty girlfriend, Satoru!”

An elderly woman approaches you both, supported by her old cane, and you note her albino hair, similar to Satoru’s.

“My dear aunt…” Satoru smiles widely without breaking away from you.

“You make a lovely couple,” Aunt Gojo continues, giving you a wise look.

“Oh, thank you.” You immediately bow and introduce yourself. Satoru’s hands squeeze your waist, and he chuckles at your manners.

“Take good care of her, you idiot,” the aunt finishes before drifting away, a tap of her cane on Satoru’s head making him sigh and rub his sore skull.

“Well, at least we look convincing, right?” he adds.

“Yes…”

Of course, he said that because he saw his aunt before you! Don’t think he said it because he meant it or—

“By the way,” Satoru takes your hand in his and leads you to the center of the dance floor, “I meant what I said before my aunt interrupted us.”

And you’re at a loss on how to interpret his playful wink.

°°°°

“WOW! Hinata, you’re so rich!”

“Is this your dad’s castle?”

Hinata takes Satoru’s hand and faces her friends in his chic living room. “It’s my daddy’s!” She nods proudly and runs off with them toward the games and festivities organized for her birthday. The children run everywhere, scream, and burst into laughter throughout the room. The perfect atmosphere.

It’s exactly what you’ve always dreamed of giving Hina.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you murmur to Satoru, who, despite your comment, shakes his head joyfully.

“I’m glad she likes it,” he replies.

“I wasn’t talking about the party.”

He freezes and turns his head toward you. “Didn’t you tell me you’d never been married?” he dares to whisper, possibly afraid of hurting you.

“That’s true. My ex left after learning I was pregnant with Hinata.” You exhale the breath you’ve been holding, the weight of the secret finally lifted.

Maybe he won’t want to keep pretending to be your boyfriend after this…

“You can still tell me his name, you know, sweetheart?” Satoru moves closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist, as if it’s completely natural for him, but there’s a tension in his touch. “I can take care of him and—”

You shake your head to dispel the tiny bit of resentment that’s urging you to say yes. “It’s okay. Thanks for agreeing to pretend to be her father. I know it’s going to be a bit of a hassle for a while, but she cares a lot—”

“Nuh-uh.” He places a kiss on your cheek, then another on the side of your neck, causing you to shiver. “She’s already talked about it in my office.”

You open your eyes wide. “What…?”

“Hinata likes you much more than you think… You’ve suffered too much,” His other hand glides over your stomach, and his thumb traces affectionate circles on your waist.

“Thank you,” you breathe, leaning into his touch. And for a moment, the weight on your shoulders completely lifts. “We haven’t had the best birthdays recently, so I’m happy to see Hinata get what she wants.” Your eyes rest on your daughter, dressed as a fairy, waving her glittery wand at one of her friends dressed as a witch. “So, thank you for everything.”

“No need to thank me, sweetheart. But which birthday are you talking about? Yours? When was it?”

Embarrassed, your mouth feels dry. “...A while ago.”

Satoru pulls you tightly against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you, his nose buried in your hair. “You’re such a strong woman… I can take care of you if you want. You and Hina will live like princesses, and if you want to sleep with her or have your own room, that’s no problem for me.”

“What? No, Satoru, you’re joking…”

“I’m not joking,” he insists, his gaze diving into yours — and for a second, sincerity fills his cerulean eyes.

With your mouth slightly open, you whisper, “We barely know each other, and—”

“Mama! Papa! We need to break the piñata!” Hinata rushes over to you, not paying any attention to how close you are to Satoru, and grabs each of your hands.

“Yes, angel, we’re coming,” you respond to your daughter with a weary smile, before glancing at Satoru, who is no longer looking in your direction.

Why are his ears so red?

°°°°

You place the last birthday decoration box in a corner of the living room as Satoru asked and straighten up with a grimace from your aching back. “Geez…”

The upper floor of the huge house is strangely quiet, and you furrow your brows. Could they have gone downstairs?

“Hinata? Satoru?” you call out as you walk through the hallways.

The evening darkness makes it hard to see clearly, and only the faint beam of light escaping from the kitchen door guides you.

“Are you there?” you ask, gently pushing the door open, and what you find leaves you stunned.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” the two of them exclaim, holding an enormous cake between them.

A few candles illuminate the underside of their beaming faces, party hats perched on their heads. The kitchen is a huge mess, counters covered in flour and frosting, and dishes overflow from the sink, threatening to topple over.

You stand speechless as they continue to sing your birthday song. Your nostrils and eyes start to itch strangely. Why is your vision suddenly blurring? It looks like transparent waves just above your lower lashes, threatening to overflow if you dare to blink. Yet, you can’t escape it.

Not when they set the cake on the table and pull you into a hug while your nose runs, tears roll down your cheeks, and your choked-up throat is on the verge of bursting into sobs. Satoru keeps kissing your hair, never stopping for a second to comfort you with sweet and reassuring words, his hand drawing circles on your back. Hinata wipes your tears while her own roll down her little cheeks.

Seeing you cry has always been contagious for her.

The moment gives you a glimpse of what your life would be like if you had a complete family, and Satoru’s words echo in your mind. How could he be so perfect in just a few weeks of knowing him?

Once the emotion passes, a few minutes later, you eat your birthday cake with laughter and cheer, accompanied not just by the one person who now means everything to you, but by both.

°°°°

“Watch out, Hina. You have applesauce on your chin,” Satoru chuckles, his hand grabbing a napkin to wipe the excess food around the child’s mouth.

The heartwarming scene makes your heart swell. You definitely don’t regret going out with Satoru and Hinata to have a meal at a chic terrace in their company. The family atmosphere finally gives you a glimpse of the life you’ve always hoped to live. Hinata growing up with a loving father and mother, and you, loved and supported by an ideal partner. Why not reconsider Satoru’s proposal, then? He’s the first man to think of you, even after your birthday had passed some time ago.

“I’m going to the restroom,” you murmur to Satoru, who nods in response, a wry smile curling his pink lips.

But why did it have to be on this day that a man finally approaches the two people you care about just as you slip away? He clearly waited from afar for you to let your guard down around your daughter so he could show up right in the middle of the table, facing a little girl — his daughter, technically — next to a man who isn’t her father.

Satoru slowly raises his head toward him, brows furrowed and wary. “Can I help you?”

Your ex says your name. “Where is she?” he mimics asking as if he didn’t know.

“What do you want with her?”

“To talk to her. I have the right. And you’re with my daughter, just so you know.” He crosses his arms over his chest, trying to appear threatening, but Satoru remains stoic, more contemptuous than anything else in the face of such a scruffy, unshaven nuisance.

“She’s not here; you can leave,” Satoru responds. And out of protective instinct, he pulls Hinata’s chair closer to him, his eyes narrowed. Satoru understands perfectly that your ex is back to claim his rights over his daughter, just as he’s been harassing you with messages about it.

“Excuse me? When my daughter is in the arms of a stranger? I could call the police immediately and we’ll sort this out very quickly,” your ex retorts sharply. He takes a step toward a lost Hinata, her big doe eyes blinking innocently between the two men. Of course, she doesn’t recognize him.

An altercation begins between the two, which naturally attracts the attention of other diners around. And you walk into the middle of the scene, frozen in shock at the sight of your ex hurling threats at Satoru.

“She’s taking my daughter, so I’m taking her back! And it’s not a bastard like you who’s going to help her regain my rights!” your ex spits with venom. His icy eyes find yours, terrified, your hands trembling and your complexion as pale as a sheet. He’s about to address you with the same angry speech, his face flushed with rage and a vein ready to burst at his temple.

Do you get déjà vu?

“‘Your daughter’?” Satoru repeats with a deadly gaze and a jaw quivering with rage. “She’s been sitting next to me for over an hour, I’ve been feeding her for over an hour, she’s been calling me by my name for over an hour, and you’re talking about ‘your daughter’? At this point, whose daughter is she... yours or mine?”

Your ex, publicly humiliated, opens his eyes wide with hatred. “You little son of—”

“Sir, we ask that you leave the terrace; you’re disturbing our customers,” a security guard declares firmly. He’s accompanied by another colleague, and when your ex protests, they grab him by the arm and escort him away amidst his shouting and the murmurs of other customers who keep staring at the three of you.

You move closer to Satoru, who immediately stands up upon seeing you — having not realized you were there — and can only offer you an apologetic look. “Let’s go,” you silently mouth (your throat too tight to dare let a sound escape, fearing it might break before you say anything), taking the hand of a silent and lost Hinata. “I’ll pay the bill and—”

“It’s already taken care of; we can go,” Satoru gently interrupts, following you to his car.

And it’s on the silent drive back that you realize something.

You’ve officially fallen in love with Satoru Gojo.

°°°°

“Look, Mom, Dad and I made a drawing for you!” Hinata proudly holds up a colorful picture with three easily recognizable characters on it.

“Did you brush your teeth?” you ask as you take the drawing to admire it, just as much smiling as your daughter. She nods and then does a little twirl to show off her new pajamas that Satoru gave her earlier in the day. “It’s beautiful. You’re so talented,” you chuckle, leaning in to plant a kiss on her cheek.

Satoru appears in the doorway of Hinata’s room, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest, a perpetual playful smile curving his lips. “Ready to go to sleep?”

“Yes, and I showed our drawing to mama,” Hinata asserts, bouncing on her bed.

“Oh yeah? Did mama like it?” Satoru asks softly, his eyes now locked with yours.

“Mama loved it and thanks Daddy,” you whisper, your voice quivering with emotion that threatens to spill over.

Half an hour later, Satoru and you find yourselves in the hallway with a sleeping Hinata and her little lullaby snores.

Satoru wraps his arm around your waist as usual and buries his face in your neck. Your heart is already racing, and your breath catches when he says, “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” The embrace is a simple hug but with unspoken words easily guessed.

“For everything.” Satoru sighs, and for a split second, you hope he’ll let you speak, but no. “I didn’t mean to make a scene and—”

“And you think I’m going to blame you for protecting us? That I wasn’t touched by what you said about Hina?” you mumble near his ear. The closeness gives you another chance to see his ears turn red. “Is Satoru shy?” you giggle, open to teasing. He hums, hiding his face so you don’t see his expression.

“I love you.”

You blink, because you must have heard wrong. “Huh?”

“Marry me.” And he’s already on his knees before you, eyes pleading. That usually confident cerulean blue is now so submissive, so close at hand… But the sudden turn of events leaves you stunned. “I want to be your husband, not just have you as my wife. I want to raise Hina with you and give you everything you need.” Not letting himself be distracted by your stunned expression, he continues, “Want my money? I’ll give it to you. My house? It will be in your name. Want my body? It belongs to you. My heart? It’s already yours.” And he starts kissing the backs of your hands desperately. “I love you, I love you… Please, marry me…”

“Satoru… You—” you stammer, backing away, your brow furrowed. Everything is a jumble in your head, both from his touching declaration but also because it’s all moving too fast for you. “You… love me?” you manage to whisper.

He crawls to you and wraps his large arms around your thighs, almost choking with desperation. “I fell in love with you as soon as I saw you, as soon as you covered me from my father, as soon as I heard your laugh, saw the amazing mother you are, and realized I never wanted you to leave this house.” He whispers your name like a divine invocation. “I’ve fallen in love with you more than just once.”

You don’t immediately respond, and that’s okay in his eyes. He doesn’t want to pressure you, just for you to know the truth and for him to be completely transparent with you.

“It’s okay if you don’t share my feelings; I just want you to know that—” But he’s cut off by your rush toward him on the floor as you press your lips to his, pulling him into the dance of your lips that one gives to the other in a long, passionate kiss. “God… I love you so much…”

“I love you too, Satoru,” you murmur against his mouth between kisses that turn into moans as he slides his warm, wet tongue between your lips to request access to your mouth.

Both of your breaths become ragged and heavy. Satoru takes the opportunity to lift you by the underside of your thighs and lead you to his bedroom, carefully closing the door behind him without breaking the contact of your swollen, desirous lips. He gently lays you on the king-size bed with silver satin and frost-blue sheets.

With a tenderness of loving slowness, Satoru breaks the kiss. “Do you want to continue?” he asks, his voice husky. You nod timidly, but he shakes his head with his mischievous smile — finally back. “Nuh-uh. Your words, sweetheart.”

“I want it, Satoru,” you reply after a sigh of exasperation so adorable in his eyes that it makes him laugh, then he places a light kiss on the corner of your lips.

“Alright… Gonna take care of my beautiful girl, the best, the most wonderful mother, and maybe future wife—” He places a finger on your lips. “Oh no, you’ll answer that later if you want, when I have something concrete for that occasion.”

You sigh in frustration because the answer is already on the tip of your tongue, but it soon turns into a moan as he kisses the side of your neck with such deliberate slowness that you really wonder if he’s going to tease you to the limit. His hands roam over your clothed chest, exploring your already hardened nipples. His lips find their way to your collarbone, marking it with love bites and hickeys that elicit muffled moans from you.

“If you knew how long I’ve dreamed of doing this…” Satoru comments with a touch of affection, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons of your shirt. “Exactly how I would act with my wife—”

“And your father?” And he chuckles again.

“We don’t care about him.” He casually tosses your top aside to tease your sensitive, erect nipples through the fabric with his thumbs. “Such humble underwear… Would you like me to buy you something more daring?” he purrs, pulling on a strap to snap it against your gooseflesh-covered skin.

“Would you do that?” You bring your lips to his, and he immediately responds to the kiss. You also remove his black turtleneck sweater to reveal his toned, muscular torso. An adventurous hand glides over his chest, making him groan slightly, and then stops at his lower abdomen where a vein runs lower down. You place a kiss there with a small, sly smile.

For the first time, you’re about to make love with someone.

“Hmm? Satoru? Have you ever thought of me in outfits like this?” Your nimble fingers unbutton his pants, revealing a prominent bulge in his fly.

“Sweetheart, don’t—” he hisses between his teeth from the sensation of the slight friction between his erection and your eager fingers as they pull down his pants to caress and rub his dick through the thin fabric of his boxer. “Your hands feel so good…” He breathes softly, his hands stroking your bare arms with a feather-light touch.

“Answer my question…” you purr, your nails pulling at the underwear to free his hard, twitching cock. The tip is perfectly reddened, with veins coursing along its pale length of 8 inches. Almost automatically, your mouth waters, and you waste no time kissing the slit of his already glistening tip with pre.

“Babe, don’t tease…” Satoru closes his eyes and lets your hand wrap around his length, begging to be touched. “F-fuck— Yes, yes, I’ve thought about it, about buying you the most expensive and luxurious lingerie— ah!” he almost whimpers. You take a little over 2 inches of him into your mouth to stroke the base. “But also in those maternity clothes— oh god… C-can you really blame me?” He rolls his eyes and can’t help but buck his hips toward you, his body pleading for your mouth to take care of him.

You withdraw his cock from your mouth to whisper, “So you’re a naughty boy, hmm?”

“I won’t last if you keep this up— hgnn…” he whimpers completely, his dick splitting your mouth in two as you take him all in. Your head starts to bob back and forth, and he is so close that he spills moans of your name. “G’nna cum, baby, don’t—”

You hollow your cheeks, and the next moment, he cums in your mouth, long, thick ropes of his release filling your already full mouth with his shaft. You hum under his orgasm and swallow slowly. You slide his dick out of your mouth with the same rhythm to smile at a Satoru with ears as red as his cheeks.

“F-fuck, sweetheart,” he pants, his calloused finger wiping away the mixed cord of your saliva and his cum with a swipe of his thumb.

“M-hmm… You taste so sweet…” He doesn’t let you continue and crushes his lips against yours, tasting himself on your mouth. “I want you, Satoru…”

“I’m yours, princess.” He helps you quickly remove your remaining underwear so that you’re completely naked in front of him, knees resting on the expensive mattress. He kneels at the foot of the bed, and his fingers explore your sensitive, already dripping cunt.

“So wet for me… Did I do this to you just with my cock?” His fingers spread your swollen folds to gather your fluids and rub your throbbing, needy clit.

Your nails dig into his arm as you lift your hips under the sharp pleasure. “Satoru, it feels good…” you gasp in a whimper. His forefinger and middle finger spread your wetness all around your intimacy. “Please don’t tease…”

“Not tease? Weren’t you doing it, sweetheart? What a nerve,” Satoru scoffs, tapping his finger at your entrance. “Can I?”

“Please…” You wince as you move your hips down for more. And that’s exactly what he does, immediately inserting his finger into you, cursing.

“You’re so fucking tight… and so wet,” he curses, his finger moving in and out of you with careful softness. “I can already fuck you without making you cum first.” He stops finger-fucking you and looks up at you. “Is that what you want, love?”

You nod before arching your back on the bed. Satoru climbs onto the mattress and helps you wrap your legs around him. “That’s it…” He takes his length in his hand and teases your responsive cunt with the tip to get it wetter.

“Don’t tease, Toru, I swear…” And he smirks.

“Toru?”

“Sorry, I—”

His tip presses against your tight, pulsing entrance, and he grins. “I want you to moan that nickname while I fuck you, ’kay?” He grips your hips to pull you closer to him, and with one swift movement, he slides into you, a groan escaping from behind his lips as your deliciously tight, warm, gummy walls wrap around him as if you were meant for him.

The stretch causes a slight discomfort at first, and you almost cry in relief when Satoru notices. He patiently waits for you to adjust before starting a slow, deep rhythm inside you.

You widen your lustful eyes, tears forming at their corners. “Ah! Toru… Jus’ like that…” Your eyes roll back as the tip of Satoru’s dick hits the back of your cervix, making you shiver and tighten around him. “Fuck… s’deep…”

“So fucking perfect, so fucking mine,” Satoru groans, his hips rocking into you without ceasing to swell between your gummy walls. His chest rises and falls in a breath as ragged as yours, asking for more every time you moan for him to go deeper. (He discreetly rolls his eyes and babbles incomprehensible words — completely pussy drunk.)

And that’s exactly what he does. He slams back in brutally, making you cry out his name with each thrust. “Shhh… You don’t want Hina to hear us, right? So keep quiet, baby…” He helps stifle your gasps and moans of pleasure by capturing your lips with his, alternating between fast, rough thrusts and slow, gentle ones in your hole that he fucks shamelessly.

Blood rushes to your ears, a rare sensation you haven’t truly felt the last time you were with someone. It wasn’t just about carnal pleasure between Satoru and you — but about love. The fusion of bodies loving each other and providing mutual pleasure, even as they burn for each other— physically and emotionally.

One of Satoru’s hands slowly slides to one of your breasts and teases a sensitive nipple. The arch in your back encourages him to detach his mouth from yours to capture the other nipple with his wet lips. The growl he lets out sends a wave of intense shivers through you, making your eyes roll in overstimulation.

“P-please, Toru, please, I’m already close,” you whimper against your trembling palm — a feeble attempt to contain your sweet sounds as he speeds up his hip movements in your sloppy cunt — the sound of his balls slapping your skin filling the room. Your words are punctuated by the tightening of your walls around him, swearing he could cum inside you just from hearing you beg.

“Cum on my cock, baby, cover it,” he coos, giving another kiss to your abused chest. The clenching of your jaw with your teeth dug into your lower lip forces you to groan. “Want me to fill you up?” And you nod, tears showing your imminent orgasm. “Anything for you, my beautiful girl.” His hips slam against yours, and his fingers continue to tease your breast, rubbing your puffy clit.

Satoru’s own breath becomes heavier, more labored as he keeps singing praises while you gasp, his lips pressed along the line of kisses he’s placing down your jaw. “T-Toru, Toru, cumming!” you cry out as your walls spasm around his cock while he reaches his peak and fills you with his hot, liquid release, warming your lower abdomen. You see blinding stars illuminating your vision.

He hisses almost gutturally, his nails digging into the flesh of your hips. “Oh god… S-Squeezing me while I’m cumming too…” He closes his eyes for a moment, letting his peak subside at the same rhythm as yours, his forehead damp with sweat resting against your chest. 

Only pants and groans escape your lips, each one accompanied by difficult swallows and the feeling of your sweaty bodies pressed against each other.

“How was it? Did I make you feel good?” Satoru asks immediately, once his breath has returned.

The concerned questions touch your heart so deeply that you lift tearful eyes to him. “Are you going to leave, after this?”

His expression falters, and he gently withdraws from you to envelop you in his embrace. “No, baby, of course not… I won’t, I swear on my life I won’t leave you… I’m not him. I’m the one who hopes you won’t leave…” he whispers hurriedly. “Don’t think about that. I’ll always be here, for you and for Hina…”

You sniffle, your eyes red. But Satoru smiles tenderly, wiping away your hot tears. “Save your tears for later, sweetheart.”

“Why?” You clear your throat.

He sighs, the aftermath of the effort from the activity settling on him, and places a chaste kiss on your sweaty temple. “Did I tell you that my father invited us to dinner tomorrow night?”

“No,” you shake your head, “but what’s the link?”

“Don’t you understand?” he murmurs in your ear, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll understand in time.”

°°°°

“I see. So it was an unexpected encounter.” Gojo’s father nods, shrugging his shoulders. “But I wonder how a woman like you can have feelings for such a fool…”

Satoru chokes on a piece of meat he’s chewing and takes a sip of his water. You stifle a giggle, with some steamed vegetables speared on your fork, just waiting for you to devour them. For a man who appears so stern and strict, Mr. Gojo is quite a wealthy man who spends his days reprimanding his son for not doing this or that.

Yet, there’s a certain paternal camaraderie between them — a father-son relationship, if you will.

“That’s not true,” Satoru retorts, his voice still gravelly. He has an adorable pout on his lips, like a child wrongly scolded.

“Yes, like you’re not a womanizer,” his father retorts, rolling his eyes.

“It was so you’d leave me alone,” with furrowed brows, he wears a mischievous smile at his father’s incredulous expression, “but sweetheart came into my life,” he continues, looking at you with a tenderness he has rarely shown.

“I hope you manage to put up with him until… well, until you decide to marry — if that’s what you choose,” his father sighs, turning his attention back to the dish in front of him.

“Satoru isn’t a bad person, you know,” you start gently. “He is certainly a thoughtless brat with grotesque immaturity,” Satoru almost spits out his water this time, and you continue with a wry smile, “but he has a great sense of attention and unmatched generosity. I believe he will be a good husband, I assure you.”

“I must admit,” he says with a wise smile, his wrinkles less pronounced.

Satoru casually says your name, “Yeah, yeah… By the way, could you pass me the salt, please?”

You freeze, while Satoru’s father suddenly looks up with an incredulous expression. “Who?”

And you smack your forehead with the palm of your hand.

°°°°

The cries of a newborn fill the room as, breathless and on the verge of fainting, the midwives congratulate you, bringing your second child wrapped in clean blankets at your request.

“He’s beautiful…” Satoru murmurs as he approaches you, leaning down to the tiny baby with his albino hair and blue eyes — his exact likeness. “Thank you, my love, thank you, thank you, thank you…” His voice breaks as you raise a weak, exhausted hand toward him, but with a serene smile on your lips as you whisper how much you love each other.

He immediately wraps his fingers around yours, your wedding rings sparkling as they brush together like stars sealed for eternity.

✧ a/n: how i love desperate men, hihi! 🤭 hope you all enjoyed this one-shot!

✧ tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobees @drippymcdrippison

[alwaysshallow]

divorced simon...... or still in the court, your husband (almost ex) that doesn't want to let you go.

not only because he loves you (and in his mind, it should be clear; no matter if he says it or not) but because he owns you. he said "till death do us part" and as a person who almost died, multiple ways, it has a meaning to him.

it means that no matter what, you're gonna be here. and he's gonna be here too—crawling to you from the deepest, darkest depths of hell just to lay in the same bed as you, in his home, and you’re gonna be in his arms.

simon’s always been possessive, not only when you two got married, but when you two were dating too, so that’s not a surprise he doesn’t let go things easily. he gives your attorney dirty looks, provoking him whenever he feels like it, checking if he doesn’t have funny business with you. if he’s only your attorney. 

it’s only right that he got himself one; the best he probably could find here, a shark who definitely wants too much money, but simon ain’t gonna go cheap on you. if it means he’ll get you back—this way or another, but he prefers to do it in a civilized way—he’s gonna spend every penny chasing you.

and it feels pretty good after a few months of battling in court. your pissed glances at him only get him worked up more, and the two of you can feel exactly like when you were just fresh into your relationship. 

you’re not really one for the arguments, never were—his good girl knows better than that, knows how to talk to him rather than argue. an art he didn’t learn even to this day—so it’s not a surprise he eventually corners you in the women’s bathroom. locks the door so your mother or anyone else won’t interrupt you two. 

“what are you—”

“—sssh.” it’s probably the first situation in months that only the two of you are alone. completely alone. without all of the judges, attorneys, and family. it’s no surprise he wants to talk to you in private, but you know exactly why you avoided him.

his brown eyes; hands, full of scars, full of blood of his enemies, caressing your waist and his body that press against you when he wants something badly. just like it does right now, when he whispers something to your ear, and you’re not sure what because you can only focus on his cock pressing against your ass.

“—so, let’s go home.”

“it’s my house, simon,” you try to reason with him, clearing your throat out of all the saliva that’s been building up. “the court—”

“—built it with our money, with my own fuckin’ hands, ‘m not gonna listen to some guy that knows better.” his hand travels down, right under your skirt. “my favourite color, and you expect me to just watch you?”

yeah. yeah, maybe it was a moment of weakness, maybe longing, but when you leave the bathroom with disheveled hair, a wolfish grin on simon’s lips, you know you’re fucked with the divorce.

quite literally.