I was thinking you could do a “5 times y/n told Harry she was pregnant” for the young!dad series !! That would be so interesting especially since in the last piece you mentioned that Harry already had a feeling she was pregnant before she even told him
The Thing About Having Six Kids
so i got this ask and a couple others that were kind of about the kids' birth/pregnancy a while ago, and went with five different instances about each kid in the youngdadrry universe. it's all surrounding their birth, finding out about pregnancies, etc. enjoy!
Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader
Simone
(a text conversation between Harry and Y/n)
Y/n: i'm pregnant
(one day later)
Y/n: Harry?
Harry: Are you sure?
Y/n: i'm sure
Y/n: i have four different pregnancy tests to prove it
Harry: I don't know what to say.
Y/n: the 24 hours it took you to respond kind of told me that
Harry: I'm sorry about that. It's just...a lot
Y/n: it's fine i guess. at least you finally responded.
Harry: Did you think I wouldn't?
Y/n: honestly? yeah. it's not like we're married or in love or anything. you don't even live in the same country as me
Harry: What are you going to do?
Harry: I know but I wouldn't just like disappear on you
Harry: I was just shocked that's all
Y/n: idk. i'm still trying to figure out a way to tell my parents
Harry: Shit my parents!
Y/n: that's kinda where i'm at right now
Y/n: but i think i want to keep it
Y/n: the baby
Y/n: fuck that sounds crazy to say. i have physics homework due tomorrow but let me stop and make a life altering decision really quick about whether i want to have a baby or not
Harry: I'm sorry. You know...
Y/n: for getting me pregnant? knocking me up? putting a bun in the oven?
Harry: It seems too early to joke about this
Y/n: it's keeping me from freaking the fuck out at the moment
(ten minutes later)
Harry: I want to talk about this properly and figure this whole thing out but I have to go
Y/n: please don't feel obligated or anything. this was just a courtesy
Y/n: i don't expect anything from you. i get it if your management wants you to delete my number and never see me again. i just thought you should know.
Harry: What are you talking about?
Harry: Y/n?
3 missed calls from Him <3
Collette
"Let's have another baby."
Y/n was close to nodding off, so it was very possible that she was dreaming. She looked behind her. It was dark in the bedroom, but Harry was close enough that she could see him, could see that his head was propped on his elbow so he could look down at her.
"What did you say?" she asked, because she needed to be sure.
"I...I want another baby," he said, voice soft even though they were the only two people in the room. Simone was fast asleep in her own bedroom, tuckered out after a long day of playing at the park and eating ice cream and fingerpainting with Harry. Now that One Direction was officially on hiatus, it was just the three of them—Y/n, Harry, and Simone. Y/n thought it would take some getting used to, living a relatively normal life. But their little family actually fell into it quite easily.
Perhaps a little too easily.
"Say something."
Y/n hadn't realized she failed to respond, but to be fair, that was a pretty big bomb her husband just dropped. Her husband. They'd been married for a few months now, but it still felt surreal, which was probably why the idea of having another baby felt too far from reality to comprehend.
"I just...I don't know what to say," Y/n said honestly. "I—I'm not sure we're ready for that."
"We weren't ready the first time," Harry said when Y/n finally flipped on her other side to face him. This seemed like a conversation he really wanted to have, so she thought facing him would probably be best. "I just think this might be the time, you know? I don't have an insane schedule anymore, there's no more management to say that we can't, and I've always thought about giving Simone a sibling. Don't tell me you've never thought about it."
"I...I have," Y/n said.
She did think about more kids. As young as she and Harry were and as impossible as their relationship seemed at times, Y/n couldn't help but think about wanting more. She loved Harry, and she'd been loving these moments they'd been able to share as a proper family recently. Harry was right, if they wanted to have another baby, now would be the time.
"Tell me what you're thinking," he said as she felt more than saw his hand push some hair away from her face.
"What happens when you start working again?" Y/n asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I know you, H," she said. "And I love you. Everything about you. And one of the parts that make you who you are is the music. This...this little bubble we're in, I love it too, but I know you'll want to go back to it someday. And then you'll go on tour for ten months, and I'll be alone to raise two kids by myself for a majority of the year."
It was harsh, but she trusted him enough to take it. This was the thought that always held her back. Y/n thought about the possibility of expanding their family on more than one occasion, especially in recent weeks when things have been practically perfect. But the reality was that Harry would want to go back to work. She knew, maybe better than anyone, the desire he had to make his own music, to create and write in ways he couldn't while in the band. And perform. Harry loved to perform live. Y/n knew that this time spent with just their family was fleeting, and she cherished every minute of it, the same way she knew Harry did. It was only a matter of time before he went back to work, and she wasn't sure she could raise Simone and a newborn without him.
"That's...That's all over now," Harry said. When Y/n tried to protest, he continued on. "What I meant to say was, the ridiculous schedules, the strict rules about when we can and can't spend time together, the separate hotel rooms. Mama, things can be different now."
"But management—"
"I bought out my contract," he said. "I haven't really given it much thought in a while because I just want to be present with you and Simone, but I've got a few people in mind for new managers. People who will prioritize our family."
This was certainly news to Y/n. It was hard to talk about Harry's management or the harsh thumb they pinned him under, so oftentimes it was a topic they avoided. Hearing him say this now, knowing how much money it would've taken to buy out his contract...that was a huge deal. As far as she knew, the other boys were just sticking with it until the contracts were finished. But Harry went and did what Y/n didn't even think was possible.
"Our family," Y/n repeated, and for a moment, she could see it. The three of them becoming four. It was crazy to think about, to think so far ahead into the future, but Y/n wasn't scared by it.
"Let's have another baby," Harry said again.
Looking at him, Y/n's heart squeezed in her chest. He'd been growing his hair out for a while now, and it was long enough that it reached just passed his shoulders. She loved it, thought it made him look older, more mature. And okay, hot. And Simone loved it too. She loved braiding it and putting bows and flowers in it or just twisting it around her finger. His shoulders were broad and lean, though he'd put on a little muscle in his arms from doing handiwork around the house, something he claimed he loved to do even though Y/n had heard him curse from another room while he worked on his latest project.
She looked at his face, the one that looked so different yet so similar to the one she'd met when she was seventeen. She wondered what those teenagers would think of the people they'd become, of the things they'd seen and experienced.
She thought about it. The baby-to-be. It would have Harry's eyes and smile, her nose and hair color. If it was a girl, she could wear matching outfits with Simone, if it was a boy...Well, they could maybe still match. Y/n thought about all the baby clothes—the adorable little onesies and shoes and mittens to keep the baby from scratching their face while they slept. She didn't let herself think of the late nights and sore boobs and dirty diapers. In this moment, she just thought about all the good feelings, every perfect moment that could be.
"You promise things will be different? I can't—I can't do it alone," she said, needing to hear him say it again.
Harry didn't try to kiss her, he didn't put his hands on her waist or pull her to his chest—all tactics he would normally use to distract her. This conversation was too serious, too important, and she loved him all the more for understanding that.
"I promise, Y/n," he said, taking her hand in his and squeezing it. "I will never make you regret living this life with me."
"That's not what I—"
"I know, but I just...I needed to say it."
He needed to make that promise to her, to himself. Life had not been easy, and Y/n knew Harry blamed himself for a lot of the hardships they faced.
"I don't," she said, kissing their joined hands. "And I won't. Ever. "
Harry grinned, and Y/n could tell even in the dark that his gaze was a little watery. Still, he inched forward and said, "So...?"
Y/n leaned forward and kissed him, her leg slotting between his. "Let's have another baby."
Maeve and Jules
"I'm sorry, did you just say twins?"
"I did. I'm seeing two heartbeats here. See?" The doctor said, pointing at the monitor she'd been observing closely the last five minutes.
Y/n couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. It was one thing to be pregnant (again), but an entirely different one to be pregnant with twins. "That's—"
"Amazing," Harry breathed.
Y/n turned her head away from the monitor to look at her husband, whose eyes were glued to the screen with a look of wonder in them. As she'd begun to process her own feelings about housing not one but two babies in her belly for nine months, she hadn't really considered how he might feel about it.
Looking at him now, she could tell he was ecstatic.
Y/n was still panicking a little, but seeing the elation on Harry's face was comforting. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it hard, needing to feel the warmth of his palm to ground her.
"Hey," he said softly, bending down to kiss the top of her head. "This is a good thing. Unexpected, but good."
"I know," Y/n said, letting out a shaky breath. "I know it's just...a lot. I mean...twins?"
"Nothing we can't handle," Harry said, kissing her cheek.
His confidence was reassuring. Maybe he was freaking out on the inside and not letting it show for her sake, but Y/n felt better about the situation at hand and was ready to continue with the appointment.
To the doctor, she said, "Are they healthy?"
The doctor smiled warmly. "They are. It looks like one of them is about a week behind, but that's nothing to worry about."
"Really? They're twins. That doesn't seem possible," Harry said, his brow furrowing adorably.
"It's rare, but it is possible. Fraternal twins can be conceived as much as twenty-four days apart," the doctor said.
Y/n understood perhaps a split-second before Harry, but when he did, he turned as beet red as she felt. The doctor didn't seem to mind their embarrassment, though she'd probably seen all sorts of couples and situations. Y/n imagined there wasn't much that the doctor hadn't seen before.
The appointment wrapped up pretty quickly after that. Harry snuck out of the hospital through a separate door while Y/n set up her next appointment. She met him in the staff parking lot, where he was standing by the passenger door to help her in. Harry gave her a quick kiss before closing her in and walking around to the driver's side. As he drove, Y/n was thinking about a number of things—twice the amount of clothes, twice the amount of crying, twice the amount of diaper changes. She was excited at the prospect of having a baby. It was a conversation she and Harry had before they started trying, but the idea of twins was a lot to wrap her head around.
She looked at Harry, wanting to ask how he felt now that they were alone, but she stopped herself.
Harry had one hand on the steering wheel, the other covering a wide grin. He was blushing a little too, and Y/n couldn't help but ask what had him smiling like an idiot.
"I'm trying to figure out which times," he said.
"What do you mean which—Are you kidding? Which times we conceived the twins?"
"Aren't you curious?" Harry asked. "Twice, babe. I put a baby in you twice. I mean, one of them had to be when we were on the yacht, right? I always feel good after we have sex, but I feel like we really outdid ourselves there. Clearly."
Y/n just looked at her husband in shock. "You are..."
"What? It's cool!" Harry insisted, but he was laughing too. "And it takes the edge off a little. Come on, you try."
So he was more nervous than he was letting on. That was comforting in its own way too, but Y/n appreciated his attempts to lighten the mood. They could have a serious conversation later, but for now it was fun to just forget all of that. Just for a moment.
Y/n gave him a dry look, trying to appear like she wasn't impressed until she eventually rolled her eyes and smiled. "Mm...I agree with the yacht, and...when you came back from London."
"Really?" Harry asked, more curious than surprised.
"Yeah," Y/n said with a little sigh as she remembered the night in question. "That was a good night."
It was one of those rare occurrences where Simone was in her own bed and Collette managed to sleep for more than a couple hours. They'd spent the whole night catching up and giggling like idiots and kissing and enjoying the pleasure of being truly alone with each other. Y/n loved those moments with Harry, where everything was just so simple and easy and it was just them having a little fun. They definitely should've been catching up on sleep while they could, but neither of them wanted to, so they stayed up with tired smiles and slurred movements until they heard Collette's cries through the baby monitor.
"It was. We should do that again sometime," Harry said. Taking Y/n's hand, he kissed the tops of her knuckles.
"You just want to go for triplets," Y/n teased, even though she knew that wasn't what he meant.
"I'm not that crazy," he said, but his smile told her he was thinking about the possibility. Maybe just a little. "I'm excited for this."
"Yeah? What do you think? Boys? Girls? A boy and a girl?"
Harry shrugged. "Our track record would suggest girls, but..."
"You never know," Y/n finished for him.
Geneva
"We have some pretty big news to share."
Once a month, the Styles family held a Zoom call with their friends and family who were scattered across the globe. Since lockdown began, there was a lot of adjusting—online school, not being able to go to the park to play, being at home all day. It was a lot for everyone, but Harry and Y/n did their best to make the adjustments smoother. And when they needed a break, they set up the monthly Zoom calls.
They were mostly just to catch up. Once all the children went to sleep, Harry and Y/n stayed up late talking to other adults about everything and nothing, maybe even played a different drinking game or two to round out the night before they went back to being parents. Tonight was a special night, though.
Multiple faces looked at Harry and Y/n expectantly through their computer screen. Both of them were sporting big smiles as Y/n leaned on Harry's side, one of his older sweatshirts covering her body and the almost imperceptible bump that was beginning to show now. Today was the first day she'd begun to show, and Harry nearly lost his mind with excitement. Finding out Y/n was pregnant had been somewhat of a surprise, but when she told him, he was over the moon. He's started to suspect, having recognized some of his wife's symptoms by now, but they'd been waiting for the right time to tell their families and friends, and tonight was the night.
"What's going on, darling?" Anne asked.
Neither Harry nor Y/n could barely contain their excitement, which probably gave away the news before they actually said anything. However, in their own eagerness to share the news, neither of them saw a few people on the call sporting knowing looks.
"We're having a baby!"
Cheers went all around as everyone congratulated the couple. Questions were asked about due dates and how far along they were and what they were going to do about the lockdown situation. Everything was just as Harry had hoped it would be.
And then things took an interesting turn.
"Who won?" Jeff asked.
"Won? What do you mean—"
"If my math is correct, which I'm pretty sure it is, I believe it goes to Gem," Sarah said, looking down at her phone. "She went with three and a half months. Glenne narrowly missed with three. No one had four so it goes to Gemma."
A collective groan went throughout the Zoom, leaving Harry and Y/n very confused.
"Did you place bets on us?" Y/n asked, sounding more astonished than offended.
"When lockdown became permanent, we knew it was a matter of when not if we would be getting the announcement," Jeff explained. "Someone has a physical copy of the pool somewhere."
"And all of you did this? Mum?" Harry said, brows raised higher than Y/n had ever seen them. When Anne nodded sheepishly, Y/n had to stifle a laugh. "So none of you were surprised?"
"I love you, dear, and I'm so so happy for you, but since you were seventeen, anytime you've come to me with big news, it's been about having a baby. For my own sanity, I've just come to expect it."
Harry looked down at Y/n, who was grinning behind her hand. For her husband's sake, her gaze softened as she reached up to kiss his cheek. "I mean, they have a point. Even you guessed it before I told you."
As the shock finally wore off, Harry smiled. He supposed it wasn't the worst thing in the world. So, he and Y/n were predictable, even though they hadn't really been trying this time around. They were in love and had a lot more time together currently. Things were finally back on track for them and their relationship troubles seemed behind them now. They were happy, and as long as his family was happy, some light teasing and bet placing seemed harmless.
He did pin everyone on the screen with a mock glare before moving on, though. "You guys made a whole pool. Really?"
"Yeah. Can you believe Jeff thought it would take eight months for you to get pregnant?"
"It was for the adjustment to lockdown period!"
"Eight months?"
And on and on it went. Harry just smiled and rested his hand over Y/n's belly, thinking about how much it would grow in just a few short weeks.
Natalia
"I want Mommy!"
Harry sighed and pulled his only son into his lap, pushing the curls away from his face and wiping the tears from his cheeks. "I know you do, JuJu."
Harry and the kids were waiting to hear from Y/n's mother, but he hadn't gotten so much as a text. He was anxious, worried that something was wrong, but Julian's crying served as a good distraction for the time being.
Julian continued to cry, still not understanding why he couldn't see his mother when he'd become so used to seeing her everyday. Harry would've been with Y/n had it not been for the little boy's crying, and he made the split-second decision to stay home while Y/n delivered the baby with her mother as support. He'd never missed any of his children's births, but for this, he could stay behind.
"She'll be back soon, bubba, I promise," Harry said, kissing Julian's cheeks and holding him close. "Should we go play with your Lego set? I know you've been excited to build it. Maybe we can build something to show Mummy when she gets home."
Julian shook his head and continued to cry into Harry's neck. Realizing his son was content to be miserable, Harry didn't ask again. He sat with Jules for a while, holding the boy to his chest and running a hand through his hair until his sobs turned into sniffles, and the sniffles into long, slow breaths. He waited a few extra minutes before taking Julian up to his room and setting him on his bed, making sure to place his favorite stuffed animal in his arms before leaving him to sleep off his troubles. As he walked away, Harry sort of wished he could do the same.
Every birth had been different. When Y/n had Simone, it hadn't been extraordinarily long, but it was extraordinarily stressful due to their young age. Collette was a fairly quick birth, perhaps a little too quick, seeing as Y/n barely made it to a hospital bed before the baby started crowning. The twins came early, which was apparently common for twins, but that didn't make it any less surprising to Harry and Y/n, especially because Harry was at the grocery store and Y/n was at the park with Simone and Collette and a nanny who was also there had to call an ambulance. Even still, Geneva's birth was probably the scariest, only because of all the rules and regulations brought on by Covid. Y/n's mother quarantined for two weeks so she could stay at the house while Harry and Y/n went to the hospital, as Y/n could only have one person in the room with her.
And now a year later, they were doing it all over again. Harry had been confident that this birth would go off without a hitch, that everything would be just fine, but the lack of word from his wife or mother-in-law made him nervous.
Later that day, Harry was still waiting. He'd gotten a text from Y/n's mother, which let him know that Y/n still wasn't ready to push but that they were getting close. That was an hour ago, and Harry had to believe that it was all happening now.
And he was missing it.
He knew being here with the rest of his children was important. That they were worried about their mother and probably found Harry's presence comforting. He just wished they could all be there in the waiting room instead of at home and fifteen minutes from the hospital. The not-knowing was killing him, and he was pretty sure his kids could sense it.
"Daddy?"
Harry's eyes flicked to where Collette was standing in the doorway of his bedroom. She was in her pajamas, a shirt and matching pair of bottoms with her favorite cartoon on them. Harry had been pacing around his room, his phone gripped tightly in his hand as he waited for someone to call him, but seeing his second daughter standing there, squinting at the light from his bedside table lamp told him he was up a little later than normal.
"Hi, peanut. What are you doing out of bed?" he asked.
Collette shrugged, her hair catching the light. She wiped at her nose and stepped further into the room until she stood in front of him. "Mommy always braids my hair before I go to sleep."
"She does, doesn't she?" Harry agreed. "She's kind of the best, huh?"
Nodding, Collette turned toward his bed and climbed up on it, looking at him expectantly. Even after having four daughters, Harry wasn't an expert at braiding hair. The girls always went to Y/n before school, and she did each of their braids or ponytails or pigtails happily. Harry always made sure to watch with a keen eye, and practiced on Y/n when she let him. He supposed now it was time to put all his practice to work.
The braiding didn't take long, and Harry didn't do half bad, in his humble opinion. Collette was just going to sleep in it anyway, so he wasn't too bummed by the few loose strands that he'd somehow missed.
He'd finished rather quickly, though Collette didn't slide off the bed to go back to her room. In fact, she nestled under the covers on Y/n's side of the bed, mumbling, "Night Daddy," before falling asleep. Harry didn't really mind. It wasn't the first time one of the kids stayed in his and Y/n's bed, and tonight, he figured he could use some company.
What he wasn't expecting was all of his children to stumble into his room. First it was Maeve, then Jules, then Simone, and finally Harry went to get Geneva, just so it was a proper sleepover. No one fought for space—which was a first. All the kids just found their spot and went back to sleep as if they were in their own rooms. Harry resisted the urge to take a picture so as not to wake anyone up with the flash of his phone's camera.
He hadn't planned on falling asleep. One moment he'd been watching a football game with the volume off, and the next he was blinking his eyes open as the sun began to stream in through the curtains. All of his little ones were still fast asleep, though Harry knew that would change soon. Maeve and Simone woke up early to watch morning cartoons, and Geneva would want her bottle within the hour.
Harry began to shuffle around and prepare for the usual morning routine—brush teeth, ok prepare the bottle, make breakfast for the early risers—when his phone rang. Startled, Harry rushed over to where his phone was plugged in, a huge grin splitting his face when he realized it was a video call from Y/n.
"Hi," Harry whispered, careful not to wake anyone up. "How are you? How's the baby? Is everything—"
"I'm fine, H. Everything's fine. Everything's perfect," Y/n said, a sleepy smile on her face.
Hearing that helped his heart stop racing, but only a little, as excitement flooded his veins. Y/n called him, which could only mean that—
"Wanna meet your daughter?" Y/n said, and even through the phone, Harry could see tears line her eyes.
Harry nodded, too overwhelmed with love and anticipation to form words. Quickly, he found an unoccupied spot on his bed and carefully sat down.
Y/n passed the phone to her mother who angled the phone so that Harry could see the baby, whose face was just barely visible through a pink blanket. He immediately felt tears well in his eyes, his throat going dry as he looked down at his daughter. Even through the phone, he felt every emotion he'd ever experienced when meeting his children for the first time. It was the most unique experience, Harry always thought. He'd seen and done so much, yet he still thought there was nothing like looking down at his newborn baby for the first time.
"Is that baby sister?"
Harry looked behind him to find Julian peering over his shoulder. Jules looked at the sleeping baby curiously, taking in his sister's little nose and tiny fingers and pouted lips. Then, he said, "Is Mommy there too?"
The camera panned up to Y/n, who was smiling and blowing kisses to Julian. "Hi JuJu, my love. I've missed you!"
"Mommy!"
"Mommy?"
"Mommy's home?"
Now everyone was up and crowding around Harry, taking turns talking to Y/n and baby sister, who had yet to be given a name. No one seemed to mind, though. If anything, they were more concerned about when Y/n and the baby would be coming home so they could have a party.
"Soon, my loves. The doctor wants me and the baby to stay one more night to make sure we're healthy. You think you can be good for Daddy?"
There was a chorus of yeses before everyone said their goodbyes, the novelty of a new baby sister wearing off when there were cartoons to be watched downstairs. Harry kept Y/n on the phone while he got Geneva's bottle ready, wanting to stay on the phone as long as possible.
"I know you must be tired," Harry said an hour later. He was in GiGi's nursery and watching her toddle around and play with her toys while talking to his wife.
"I'll hang up soon. I want you to get as much screen time as possible before I go," she said, turning the camera to where the baby was sleeping in the bassinet beside her hospital bed.
"Have you given her a name yet?" he asked.
Y/n shook her head. "I know we decided on one, but I wanted you to be with me when I said it for the first time."
"I love you," Harry said as his heart melted to mush.
"I love you too," Y/n said. She lifted the baby out of the bassinet, cradling her head with the expertise of someone who'd done it for years. Looking at Harry through the phone she said, "You wanna do the honors?"
Laughing out of pure bliss, he nodded. With all the tenderness and care he would've used if he'd been there in person, he said, "Welcome to this crazy, crazy world, Natalia Styles."
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𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ “Stacey’s Mom has got it going on” — Gojo Satoru
Synopsis: You can’t help eyeing your daughter’s pretty boyfriend when he’s just so sweet, and he can’t help himself either when you’re the best he would ever find.
— word count: 4.2k
— A/n: idk if this qualifies as dc (I don’t think so) but it has like, idk age gap and cheating concepts so take care
— warnings: smut!! MDNI!! Age gap (Gojo is 20 and you’re bordering late 30s); cheating; sort of asshole representative? But how else would something like this work; hair pulling; body worshipping; oral (f! Receiving); dub-con (slightly?); Satoru is a shit boyfriend to your daughter; hinted domestic abuse; mentions of scars; almost subby! Satoru? (There’s no definite concept of who’s dominant- and if satoru then a lot of soft dom); slight spitting; riding; simultaneous orgasm
21-7, Shinjuku 3-chome, Shinjyuku, Tokyo.
He had the address memorised, down to the number of windows in your house and the exact shade of the monotonous white your husband had deemed “minimalist”.
19 he was now, you stood at an elegant 37—arriving in the vicinity at an estimated 5 years ago, your husband’s property, he’d guessed.
Gojo Satoru was 14 when he first saw you, puberty making its way into the young boy’s mind—you did none but encourage the certain downfall in the way you tapped his cheek when he offered to help you in carrying the many bags.
Over the years, Satoru saw you a lot, and also, didn’t at all.
Satoru saw you in the afternoon haze, dealing with the heat—staring obnoxiously when you took off your floral shirts, standing in front of him in those tight leggings and tank tops—but he also saw you at times that you didn’t know about.
And when he didn’t see you physically, you were present on his mind.
At least up until his 18th birthday, you knew of his presence when he would come to meet you.
What had begun as an innocent tap on his cheek for being adorable had developed into an innocent friendship on your accords, smiling wide every few months when he would zoom past your house on his cycle.
The routine was simple then, left-right-right-left, 15 minutes of a way from his house, and there he would be, at your gate—somehow always when you had grocery to carry.
The routine was simple now too, 11 p.m. he would sneak out of his dorm room, a smirk on his face as he used his infinity—making his way into your house, all so quietly, to watch your pretty face as you slept—sometimes even snickering when he caught you being fucked by your husband, snickering at that bored expression on your face, knowing just how much better he could treat you.
He’d never been inside however, general courtesy to be shown, not as a kid—never yet as an adult.
Back then you’d giggled when a 17 year old Gojo had brought his shy friend to meet you, both their cycles parked outside your house as you tended to their boyish smirks, he doubted you’d giggle knowing that the same friend, Geto, was the one he sent your pictures to when he found you sleeping.
But Satoru wasn’t dumb, he knew you’d realise at some point and so, he did what he had to.
In his head, it was all your fault too, so oblivious to everything that he had to choose the second best, your daughter.
“I know she’s like hot and what not but you gotta let her go dude,” Suguru’s voice was a drag—partially dry from all the alcohol he’d consumed.
Satoru’s 20th birthday was approaching, a week left, the celebrations of course had to last a month.
Satoru chuckled beside his best friend—almost wasted he noted—“it’s not like I wanna fuck her or something,” he grinned, he knew wanted to, he knew he possibly couldn’t, “it’s just, I could treat her so much better you know? That stupid little house-”
Suguru smirked, “-don’t bring money into it you pervert,” his eyes bore into his best friend’s, “her daughter ain’t that bad ya know,”
Satoru snorted at that, “which is exactly why I went for her too,”
Just at that, Geto snorted too—mindlessly, shamelessly, both of them.
-ring!!
Slow, both their eyes panned onto Satoru’s phone, ‘my love’ the screen flashed, Suguru snorted again, “Ironic,”
With a roll of his eyes and a short smirk, he shook his head—knowing she’d only be calling because she was needy, at least that’s all he remembered her to be.
“Mmhmm baby, gonna drop by in half an hour yeah? Yeah, yeah, miss you too, bye,”
He always sounded sweet- that was what your daughter rambled about, Satoru Gojo was the sweetest guy ever, and you were glad mostly, a little jealous? You weren’t sure.
It just wasn’t something you ever had.
As Satoru got up to leave though—“you ever let your girl go though, hit me up alright?”
Satoru eyed his best friend with a grin- that was something he could do—“have our own fucked up family eh?”
“Satoru?” You smiled, “long time honey,”
‘For you’, he thought, smiling smugly, “I keep you in well wishes all the time so, not so much Ma’am,”
You chuckled at his words—ever the gentleman he’d been, “that’s adorable, is that how you charmed my daughter too?”
His heart ached at that—only a little however, no, it was all only for you, all the charm—all for his only woman.
Thoughts flashed onto his own girlfriend, he remembered the night well—it wasn’t much, her 16th birthday, he’d just turned 17 too— he’d dropped by, getting you those medicines you’d requested a week or so ago—they were only found near his vicinity, he could only oblige.
Curiosity often killed ended up killing the cat.
-
He’d racked his brain, he thought of it for endless nights—he didn’t want to accept it, not so easily, not when you made it seem simple.
Each of what you’d asked him to get was a pain killer.
He’d disliked your husband before, but since after, he was sure he hated him.
That night, he’d sat outside your house with your daughter, she was smoking—he was used to it, he hated the smell.
“Aren’t you too young to be smoking?” He’d teased, exactly how he used to Suguru and Shoko—except she didn’t entertain the jokes, never had, never would.
However, before a mean retort could fall off of her lips, a crash sounded all too loud.
Not accidental, Satoru knew that.
He was quick to get up, he was no hero, but his life be sworn if he let you suffer such—a hand held him back.
“Don’t get into it,” she warned, your daughter did.
He didn’t, it wasn’t his place to.
Your husband cheated that night, as he had countlessly, your daughter found her first boyfriend—you wept that night, Satoru’s heart did too.
-
“Can’t lie I keep a special bank reserved for my uh…mature ladies,” a wink he passed, he made you feel young, alive.
A shake of a head you passed and a knowing laugh.
You noted his lingering gaze, the bruise on your forearm ever present, never you said a word- never him.
The silence engulfing and nauseating.
“Your uh,” his words were rough, “anniversary yeah? Round the corner isn’t it?”
You giggled, almost as if it mattered, “So he remembers? And your own, isn’t it?” A look of slight confusion masked your face, he grinned, “a week after yours, it’s my birthday though, on the same day that is, you always mess it up,”
An apologetic smile you passed this time around, “why, I’m sorry, let me make up by baking you a pie honey?”
A thin smile adorned his face—shaking his head, he ushered you back in, waiting patiently for your daughter to bounce back, to remind him of his reality.
But just as you did turn, “wait, by the way,” his eyes lay stuck upon the bruises you didn’t care to hide, “how’re things going?”
His eyes gazed upon the sheer material of your shirt, “how’s…Mr Y/l/n?”
Almost a sneer, as if, you stared, “perfectly fine, Toru—how’re things with Y/d/n?”
He stared blankly this time around—“perfectly fine Ma’am.”
-
“Pass me the lighter,”
Satoru stared at his best friend’s outstretched hands—your daughter’s pretty smile as she handed him hers—the same smile that had intrigued Satoru to even look at her, the only feature on her face that resembled you.
“What are your plans for the anniversary?” The words registered in Satoru’s ears—he wasn’t sure who the speaker was, he didn’t exactly care, “I could help around your house,” a mutter, as if unsure to why—but certain that he wanted to.
Cocked brows looked at him confused, “…isn’t it your 20th birthday though?”
He nodded.
“Who wastes their 20th birthday helping around random houses?” Suguru’s tone was almost annoyed, as if he knew—or could’ve guessed why.
Satoru’s girlfriend laughed, “You know he’s screwed a little right? Can’t stop him if he doesn’t want to,”
Satoru nodded again—it gutted him onto how well she bothered to know him—and yet, he perhaps didn’t even bother knowing her favourites most of the time.
“No no,” head shaking, a grimace fell onto Suguru’s face, “pretty boy here can do whatever he wants,” a knowing look they both passed—“but 20s don’t happen again, go big or go home,”
Satoru chuckled, of course he had it all planned out, “I’m going big and going home,”
Another charming smile, another wink—just something you couldn’t become a fool too.
A slight frown rested on your lips, “You sure hon? You don’t have to waste your evening like this…”
It was almost motherly, the way you showed concern—in ways Satoru had barely experienced.
He scoffed, “Time well spent is never wasted,”
“You’re going to mow a lawn baby,” you chuckled, “y/d/n isn’t home either- you know her sleepover- I don’t see how-”
“-anything to please and help you is almost the best kind of work I could do,” you’d have smiled usually, at his words—a tiny flirt you always deemed him—laughing about it to your husband, even though he barely cared.
You didn’t care of it either, an empty marriage, so be it—hollowed from both ends, slow.
But this time, this was different.
This time you’d perhaps bask in his help—no husband to taunt by complimenting little Satoru, no daughter to tease by complimenting little Satoru.
Satoru wasn’t all so little, you realised—your daughter and husband weren’t home—just you, Satoru and his praises.
-
6 p.m. — 7 p.m. — 8 p.m.
Satoru didn’t remember a time to the when he’d done all so much work for his own mother- but he was content, with a pair of earphones and a creative little mind, he was intent to impress you.
It amused him, to actually how big of a lawn you actually did have—and he wondered at the almost pristine look of it if you managed it yourself.
Even if you did, he would be your helping hand now—he grinned ear to ear as he thought the countless many scenarios.
‘Desperate’ , a little voice in his head called—“my pretty good boy” your voice, the one you used in his thoughts, fought away all doubts.
But all to quick his train of thoughts paused, “you missed a spot there Toru’”
And most of the time, he’d be pissed on to anyone who dared to correct him—with you he’d nod obediently and carry on—but normally, even your normally, you didn’t step out in front of him in just a small, pretty pink towel wrapped around you.
Satoru Gojo had pretty eyes, a decent imagination too—he’d thought about you plenty of times.
Naked, spread open, on your knees, having him between your knees—many and every and any position but absolutely nothing could’ve compared to the way seeing you covered just enough—in a small towel got him hard.
Satoru Gojo had pretty eyes and for a second they were wide as saucers.
His eyes panned onto the spot you pointed at—he had indeed missed a spot—he nodded slowly.
The music rang in his ears—
Stacy's mom has got it goin' on
Stacy's mom has got it goin' on
Ironic.
“I’ll get to it, going for a bath?”
It shouldn’t have been that casual—him asking you your schedule such—you let it be so.
“It’s getting late, want to stay the night? And yeah—yeah, a bath,”
Stay the night.
There the offer lay and his temptation—he watched the careless way you held the towel, all so small that decency was the only thing that stopped him from staring shamelessly at your exposed thigh.
“I don’t know-”
An attempt, simply a stupid attempt to save him and you—“-I insist and what song is that?”
He stared blankly, “Stacey’s mom,”
“How I love that song,”
Of course you did- he watched you walk away as the song continued playing.
Stacy, do you remember when I mowed your lawn?
Your mom came out with just a towel on
I could tell she liked me from the way she stared
And the way she said
"You missed a spot over there"
Down the drain, his character, perhaps yours—then relationships you’d held, everything.
Another nod.
-
“I’m staying the night Suguru,”
“Hah?!”
An eye roll, an obnoxiously pitched questionnaire, “The fuck? It’s your damn birthday tomorrow—why did you make me get that damn cake?”
Jaw clenched, he stared at the recently mowed lawn—10:00 p.m.
It was too late.
“Better get a taste of her damn pussy if you’re staying the night fucker,”
Satoru shook his head, a smile, “Shut up, talk about her nicely,”
“I’ll talk to her nicely when your girlfriend talks to me nicely when I’m dicking her down, really got yourself a brat huh?”
The smirk was evident in his tone- Satoru wanted to feel betrayed, he couldn’t.
“You’re such a bloody fucker,” he muttered through, “Take care of her,”
“Always have—you take care of her damn mom,”
And he always had too.
-
10:15 p.m.
He found it simply, weird, that you were in the shower all so long—shaving?
It was your anniversary tomorrow, a loyal wife, a good wife—you’d present yourself well—he thought.
He wasn’t entirely wrong either, was he?
Foggy, your bathroom mirrors stood as you prepared yourself just right, shaven smooth—a guilty heart panged in your chest.
You watched the many scars lingered upon your body, natural, provided—all yours and you doubted it, doubted the mere fact that Satoru would even think about touching you the way you fantasised.
It was wrong—just a fortnight ago and he was the sweet boy you used to adore and having by, just a week ago he was the boyfriend of your daughter that made your relationship all the more insecure, just tonight he was growing into his age.
Head hung back, you stared at the ceiling- so wrong and so right.
Almost melancholic, your train of thoughts was, and his too as he sat by the window of your room—“Please clean these windows too,” you’d said with a smile, breasts pushed together as you held your hand in front of you—the little pink towel did nothing, you knew that.
His hard-on was obvious, you’d had that effect on guys all the time—but then, maybe it wasn’t for you, maybe he just saw the sight and it reminded him of- maybe-
“God~ fuck-!”
Your ears perked up, maybe that was a moan.
Not maybe, it was—it was all too certain a breathy moan.
And before the better judgement was to be passed, there you were, the pink towel wrapped around all the more perversely as you twisted the knob of the door—entering your room to the prettiest sight in a while that you’d seen.
“Satoru?”
Eyes all so wide, the ministrations came to an immediate halt—“Mrs- Mrs- I- shit,”
You watched him scramble about, struggling to get the pants that he’d pulled down to his ankles, back in place—pale cheeks tinted with the embarrassment he held-“I’ll leave right now,” and you knew your figure standing about, almost naked, did not help.
A giggle you passed, “Satoru, it’s fine baby, what’re you so embarrassed about?”
That, he didn’t expect, neither did you.
A low ‘huh’ dropped from his mouth,a hardened cock hanging out for you to ogle at.
“Yes I mean,” you continued, slowly moving towards him, “it’s all…natural isn’t it? You’re a big boy now too,” your voice was sweet as honey, pulling him, reeling him in.
He watched, estranged, as you swayed your hips, moving in, pulling him—pushing him and there he lay in your bed.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
“Tell me Satoru,” you whispered, nimble fingers grasping the hem that covered you—“are you all grown up? Still my big boy?”
A silent nod, your towel fell.
A smile etched across your face as you saw his mouth widen-“l-like what you see?”
A slight stutter, you were nervous too—just as him.
And it was entirely a surprise to you then, when his were the hands that grasped your hips rough—flipping the both of you over so he was on top.
Lips attached to your neck—his hands ran wild as they explored every bit of you—“So much, so so much, you’re gorgeous,”
Frenzied moans, hefty touches—it was almost as he’d been dying to touch you—and he had.
His lips moved fast—faster than his fingers, moving across every inch of you—a slight tingle you felt as wet and sloppy kisses he left across your shoulder blades, your hands tugging at the white tuft of his hair.
“So soft,” he murmured against your skin— “so fuckin pretty,” he was skillfull, almost, in the way he managed to completely disregard your needs in the moment.
Not a single brush of his fingers or crotch against your pussy—a tease.
You wanted to cry, pleasure hit you hard—and in the way he lingered seconds too long upon every scar that your husband had given you, at every bruise that you held—in the way he handled you so carefully, not as if you were fragile but as if you were his desire personified.
“Tell me, Satoru,” you snickered, at the breathy moans he let out, “how long have you waited for this,”
“Forever,” he breathed out—the crystal blue eyes finally met you then, “God forbid I just- please, please let me?” A whine he let out still, so desperate.
“Always this needy hm?”
He shook his head fast, “Only for you,”
And you knew that just there he was begging all so easily.
“Please- ple-ase,” his voice was a drag, as if afraid that he’d lose this moment all so soon, “please let me…let me touch you- feel you,”
A twinkle in your eye, “if you’re good, yeah?”
He bobbed his head at that- “on your knees for me baby,”
And that he did, so obedient, “Show me how much you’ve yearned,”
It was a dynamic, if anything—you held the control surely, and you lay naked too—sprawled out as your head rested upon the pillows steadily, his between the plush of your thighs.
An airy gasp you let out as you felt him spit upon it, “fuck you’re glistening,” he whined, “So wet from just the thought of me?”
You felt his fingers spread your folds out, he felt so cold against the warmth of your pussy, “Didn’t even need me to spit huh? But had to mark you didn’t I? Remind you that I am the one who gets you this way- has your husband ever gotten you this way huh?”
His words seemed almost feral, a growl with every word as he kept lowering his head— he focused upon your clit.
Your legs lay spread wide open for him, one his hands resting upon your thigh, rubbing soft soothing circles—while the hand finger fucked you.
His finger slipped in so easily, a groan both of you let out together, “so fucking warm I- your pussy’s pratically begging to be ruined,”
You squirmed at his words—already dumb at the way his middle and ring finger pumped inside of you,
“More please,” you moaned out, “need more,”
A smirk he held as he lowered his lips, nipping at your pussy lips, “More what Ma’am? More of what hm?”
A loud whine you let out at his word- “Fuck Toru’ not tonight, please just touch me—want you,”
Enough encouragement, in fact it was all he needed before landing his tongue flat upon your clit, swiping it back and forth upon the little nub.
“Scream my name please,” rough hands pulled at your legs—resisting you from closing your legs—“Arch your back and scream my name, let your neighbours know I’m the one in your silly fucked marriage that gets you so worked up and not that fucker,”
His words barely registered in your head—thrashing at the liable pleasure he held onto you, “Sh-it Toru’ I- right there! Yes please,”
He grinned as he looked up at your face briefly, before diving right back in, suckling at your hardened clit as his fingers prepared your cunt to be ruined by his cock.
“God I should film you being so needy for me,” another groan as his tongue lapped upon your core—“should teach em how to please the perfection you are,”
You whimpered at his words, eyes rolling back at the way he provided just the right kind of pressure- until you weren’t.
A loud whine and groan as he pulled out of your cunt, he grinned, “Want you to cum on my cock when you do — wanna feel you clamp down hard,”
You looked into his eyes, hesitant? Neither of you.
“Taste yourself,” and before you could pull away, shoved into your mouth were his two fingers as you sucked onto it—“Fuckin’ delicious,” he muttered as he pulled away the fingers too.
Needy, he wanted you needy.
Slow, he moved about, rising about and pulling you with him as he kissed your arms—“someday, I’ll leave such pretty marks on you, those are the ones you deserve,”
You bit your lips hard- he did too, as you straddled his lap—“please,” he whimpered and you giggled, “how many times do you think about this?”
All the time.
Any and everytime he was alone, just you on his cock bouncing to chase your euphoria.
You cupped his face as you stared at him, such a pretty innocent look he held—you grinned devilishly as you lined your entrance upon his tip.
"yeah. 'think about it a lot. want you to use me, please, just have me. i'm y — ohhh god, oh fuck me, y-yes please — fuck i'm yours!" his words, bound to be a mess now that you've lowered yourself to meet level with his cock.
It throbbed inside you, it looked so pretty, when you imagined sucking on it— with that curve you always felt pressing against your walls when he would be balls deep inside your pussy- just as now.
“Tell me Toru,” you but down in your lips hard, red, “how many times do you think?”
He gulped hard as he watched you move, unable to hold himself as your warmth spread all over his cock, “J-just some- sometimes, when I- I miss you, when I c-can’t get enou- oh god- can’t get enough,”
He moaned softly, head fallen aback and eyes shut close as you rode him slow, rolling your hips—it took your all to just not give in and fuck yourself dunb over his cock.
“In the shower…after- after practice,”
You giggled at his words, oh how you felt like a filthy girl in the moment, “all sweaty and dirty? Think bout fuckin me in shower?”
“Yeah…” his voice lay a rasp, “think bout you when I’m alone,”
Your words, actions—he was dizzy with pleasure, legs squirming beneath you—toes curling in pleasure and hips stuttering as he reeled in for more.
“Think of you when I fuck your daughter too,” and just at that he thrusted harshly into you, gripping your hips as he moved you fast—“you’re too slow,” he grunted.
A low moan escaped you at his words—him too.
Filthy.
Wrong.
You didn’t care.
"d-you think of me too, when- when you can’t touch it? When it- it d-doesn’t feel right?" his question almost sounded innocent, eager to hear your response.
"Course’ i do. think about my pretty boy all the time. i miss this cock so bad sometimes, 'can't get off the same with any of my toys."
He groaned at that—you could feel him twitching inside you.
11:55 p.m.
You weren’t sure when or how you lost all that time- it didn’t matter.
It was your anniversary in 5 minutes and his birthday.
Your hands grabbed his face and pulled him close—your boobs thrusted into his face, “cum with me ok? Hold on just a pretty while yeah?”
Your words were a lullaby to him, he nodded mindlessly, attaching his lips onto your nipples, swiping his tongue over your nipples.
Your soaking cunt engulfed his cock as you bounced upon it, head hung back as you chased your high—his hands kneaded your skin—one pinching your nipples while the other massaged your ass.
If you could, you’d have seen the adoration in his eyes as you fucked your self onto him—breathy moans and shy grunts, the smell of your sex wafted through the air.
Just another minute.
“S-So good to me-” He stutters, nails latching onto your skin to bounce you more aggressively on his cock as his flustered state slowly dissipates.
So close, both of you—a babbling mess underneath you,Satoru was purely pussy drunk—and just like that, the clock strung 12:00 a.m.
You both drew each other’s orgasm.
You stay there on top of him for a second, panting and heaving you both lay—nuzzling as his fingers drew circles on the small of your back.
Circles, you weren’t aware, those circles were actually his name crafted carefully upon your skin for he knew you were finally his.
“You good?”
A slight smile on your face as you asked him, he lay beside you in your bed—“Happy Birthday Toru,”
“Best birthday I’ve had,”
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