euge

“No,” is all he says, suddenly taking your hand and squeezing it tighter than usual. “Can we go now? Please?”

That takes you completely off guard. Peter never acts like this, and specially not on a Friday afternoon, with the weekend just about to begin.

“Sure, but—”

“Excuse me?”

Even though you’re calm and apparently relaxed, a voice you’ve never heard makes you stand up and turn around.

A man, about your age, is standing in front of you, at a respectful distance. Just as you’re holding your son’s hand, there’s a little girl beside him, clinging tightly to his right hand and half-hidden behind him, peeking out shyly while still keeping her eyes on you.

You notice how Peter tenses up, which makes you realize there’s something you don’t know.

“Hello. First of all… Sorry for the inconvenience,” the man says again, keeping his distance. “I’m Leon Kennedy, and this is my daughter, Hope.”

The little girl shyly raises her little hand, though her gaze remains fixed on the floor.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” you reply, instinctively softening your tone as you can’t help but stare at Hope. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N, Peter’s mother.”

“Look, I won’t take up much of your time,” Leon continues bluntly and calmly. “We’ve just moved here. Hope started school this week.”

Your lips curve into a smile again, but Leon’s hesitation as he tries to keep talking makes your stomach knot up.

You know he isn’t going to tell you something good. You realize this the moment his gaze, now much sadder, shifts shyly from his daughter to your son.

“There’s something I thought you should know,” he says, keeping his eyes on Peter. Then, he crouches down next to Hope, wrapping his arm around her. “She’s having a little trouble adjusting. You know how it is: new place, new people… if it’s not easy for us, imagine how it is for them.”

You nod, still looking at the little girl.

“And, well… there are some kids who haven’t been very nice to her these past few days,” Leon adds.

You instinctively look at Peter, who’s now staring at the floor too.

“Pete?”

Your tone’s much more serious now. You keep looking at him, but he, of course, avoids looking at you.

“From what Hope’s told me, your son’s the one who’s been acting a little worse toward her.”

You stay silent, not knowing what to say. You feel a knot in your stomach, in your throat, and, above all, a deep sense of shame as you listen to Leon.

“Peter, look at me,” you say, your voice firmer. He doesn’t, of course. “Peter.”

You notice the little boy flinch slightly, finally looking up when you decide to squeeze his hand a little.

“What’s Mr. Kennedy talking about?” you ask him.

“It’s not—” he begins, but his voice trembles too much.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Did you treat her badly or not?”

He swallowed nervously.

“Yes…”

The confession hits you like a bucket of cold water. Now, you’re the one who can’t look at Leon Kennedy and his daughter because of the shame you’re feeling.

“Peter, can you tell me what’s going on with you?” you snap in a low but authoritative voice. “She’s new here and doesn’t know anyone,” you say, pointing at Hope. “Why on Earth would you even think of treating her badly?”

“It wasn’t just me! Everyone—”

“I don’t care what everyone’s doing!” you cut him off, raising your voice. “I’ve taught you, and I still teach you every single day, that you have to be kind to everyone. You shouldn’t have behaved the way you did toward her.”

Your son’s eyes begin to fill with tears, but that doesn’t stop you:

“I always tell you that we don’t hurt people, but we help them. And, specially, we do that when they’re new.”

Your son doesn’t say anything, of course, but your mind’s racing right now. You turn to Leon immediately, and the anger you feel toward your son turns to a bigger shame when you look into his eyes:

“I’m so sorry,” you say softly, completely ashamed. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah. I figured,” Leon replies.

Your gaze shifts from father to daughter. Hope's still hiding behind him, her little fingers clinging to the sleeve of his t-shirt.

You crouch down a little, getting down to her level. Hope just hides more, and you can’t help but feel both anger and pity.

“Hi, sweetie,” you say gently. “I’m so sorry Peter and the other kids have been mean to you,” she glances at you out of the corner of her eye, a little hesitant. “You don’t deserve any of that. Not even a tiny bit.”

Hope starts shifting nervously, looking at her father. He nods, smiling shyly to reassure her.

“It’s okay… I just wanted to make some friends,” she whispers, still looking down.

That breaks your heart into a million pieces.

You quickly stand up and turn toward your son, who’s standing more away from you than you’d like.

“Peter: apologize,” you order him. He hesitates, nodding his head, as if he was complaining. “Peter Y/L/N: apologize. Now,” you repeat.

The boy takes a step forward, his shoulders slumped. He looks at Hope’s father and, then, at her, quickly looking away, clearly ashamed.

“I’m sorry…” he mutters.

“Do it right, Peter,” you insist once again. “I didn’t teach you to apologise that way.”

He sighs, and this time he actually looks at the girl:

“I’m sorry, Hope. I shouldn’t have been mean to you.”

The girl stares at him, not quite sure if he meant it or if you’d just made him say it. Finally, she nods shyly and replies with a very, very quiet okay.

“Do you want to play?”

That question takes you both by surprise. Above all, you’re quite shocked by how the girl leans forward to Peter, who’s as surprised as Leon and you.

“Uh… okay.”

You don’t even know how, but within minutes, the kids are already talking normally, as if nothing had happened between them. They can’t stop laughing, chasing each other, and running back and forth.

“Kids…” you murmur, crossing your arms as a smile spreads across your face.

Leon stands beside you, just as shy as his daughter, and lets out a sigh.

“We should be more like them,” he says, crossing his arms as well. “When it comes to solving problems and letting things go, I mean…” he adds.

You turn to look at him, then look away the moment he turns to look at you, hoping he didn’t catch you. Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, with your head down and shaking it, tells you that, of course, he did.

Your cheeks turn red as you see Hope spinning around and jumping while Peter seems to be gesturing to her with his hands, signaling something.

“She’s so sweet,” you say softly.

“She is,” he simply replies.

You look at him again, though this time you don’t look away when your eyes meet his.

“Well…” you begin, not quite sure where you want to lead the conversation to. “Since, apparently, they seem to be best friends now… we should keep an eye on them before they cause any trouble or something.” Leon follows your gaze as the kids keep running along the sidewalk outside the school. “There’s a park right down the street, about a 5-minute walk. The teachers usually come out at this time… and they often complain that kids shouldn’t be playing here,” you explain. “They’re idiots, if you ask me.”

“Sure. Great,” he smiles at you, slinging Hope’s Spider-Man backpack over his shoulder.

“Peter! Don’t go too far! We’re going to the park!” you call out.

“Okay, mom!”

While your son’s completely focused on his game, Hope shyly approaches her father.

“Go with Peter,” Leon tells his daughter, smiling at her and stroking her head softly. “We’ll go with him and his mom, okay?”

Peter and Hope don’t wait for you: you’re the ones who have to pick up their pace so you don’t lose sight of them. You follow them through the narrow path lined with trees on its side you know too well until you spot the playground.

Hope can’t stop laughing as Peter tries to beat her to the swings.

You force yourself to slow down when they start going down the slide, knowing that at least, your son, and probably his new friend, encouraged by him, would spend at least ten minutes in there not only sliding, but also making up all sorts of games.

Leon walks beside you with his hands in his pockets, also watching the children, way more relaxed now that daughter seems to be in her own world.

“You handled that pretty well,” you admit, turning toward him. “The thing with Hope and Peter, I mean. By the way… sorry again. I didn’t raise my son to be an asshole the way he’s been to yours,” you clarify. He waves his hand dismissively, no longer making a big deal of it. “You’re the first parent I’ve ever had a problem with, but I’m convinced that if it’d been anyone else, they would’ve reacted much more angrily.”

“My daughter’s everything to me, but I know that, if I get angry, it wouldn’t help the situation. You know that kids tend to imitate us in everything. I don’t want to set that example for Hope.”

You swallow hard and lower your head, worried about what she just said and, above all, that he might actually think your son’s copied your behavior and that’s why he acted that way toward his daughter.

You decide to stay silent, not quite sure what to say, as you keep walking, approaching a bench that’s right across from where your children are playing.

“So… did you just move here?” you ask, curious.

“Yeah. We arrived a couple of weeks ago.”

“That’s a big change, especially with a 6-year-old girl.”

“It is, but Hope’s more than used to it. This isn’t our first move,” Leon explains.

“Really?” you raise an eyebrow, curious.

Leon nods, taking his time to answer as he watches Hope climb the small ladder leading to the top of the slide.

“We tend to move around a lot because of my job. Not just between cities, but also between countries,” he explains. “It’s been that way for quite a few years. It’s tiring, but you eventually get used to it.”

“So why did you decide to settle here?” you ask, your curiosity getting the better of you. You immediately regret it. “Sorry for asking— It’s just that—”

“I want to give Hope the stability I haven’t been able to give her over the last five years of her life,” he interrupts, looking at you, completely calm. “My job isn’t as demanding as it was a few years ago, so I thought it was the perfect time to bring some calm into our lives.”

Even you know there’s more behind those words, you don’t ask him anything else. You look back at the kids.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it when she’s older.”

Leon doesn’t answer, but he nods. Deep down, he hopes that’s the case, and that he isn’t ruining his daughter’s life way more than he thinks he’s already done.

“What about you? Have you been living here for a while?” he asks cautiously.

“My whole life, actually,” you sigh softly and force a completely fake smile onto your lips.“I mean, I’m not here exactly by choice. I always planned to leave as soon as I graduated from college to start over somewhere where no one knew me…” you explain.

“And what stopped you from doing that?”

You hesitate for a moment, but end up pointing to your son.

“Getting pregnant with Peter,” you continue. “The plans I had, my priorities… Everything changed overnight,” you shrug when you notice Leon looking at you with pity. “It was the most stable situation I could afford given how unstable it’s to get pregnant without even planning it,” you continue. “I worked as much as I could until almost the moment I gave birth, and I paid the rent for the studio where we still live the best way I could…” you look back at your son. “It’s not what I imagined, of course, but as of today, it’s not something I regret either.”

“Are you doing this on your own?”

Leon asks you that cautiously, knowing it could be a delicate topic. When you look at him, you realize he’s not judging you at all, which you appreciate because it’s not the norm, specially with the men you’ve tried to go on dates with, who always run away when you mentioned your little boy.

“Yeah. Single mom.”

“Same here.”

Maybe you shouldn’t jump to conclusions… but that takes you completely by surprise. Yes, you haven’t seen a wedding ring on him and, yes, he doesn’t have to wear one even ig he’s married…

“Really?”

“Yeah,” is all he says.

You tilt your head slightly, still looking at him, curious about his story. Considering that he’s barely shared any information with you about his work other than the constant moves he’s made, you figure he’s not the type to share personal details with anyone, so you don’t ask any more questions.

“I had Hope when I was 21. With my ex-girlfriend.”

You widen your eyes and lean toward him, though you correct your posture immediately, trying not to make him feel uncomfortable.

“It wasn’t exactly planned, to be honest,” he sighs.

“It seems like history’s repeating itself,” you smile. “I was 20, almost 21, when I had Peter,” you confess. Judging by his expression, he seems to relax a little. “What happened between you and…? If you don’t mind me asking, of course…”

Leon’s gaze drifts back to his daughter. You see him bite his lower lip and fidget with his hands, clearly nervous, trying to find the right words without giving too much away.

“Hope’s mother hasn’t been around for a while. That’s all.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It is how it is,” he says, shrugging. Then he gives you a slight smile. “At this point, Hope barely remembers her.”

That makes you feel a little bad.

“Peter’s father’s never been around, if that’s any consolation…” you confess again, lowering your voice.

“Not even at the beginning?”

You shake your head.

“It’s hard,” Leon says again. “No kid should’ve to go through that… Neither should we,” he adds to your surprise.

“Sometimes it’s still hard… but you end up getting through it. You end up figuring it all out on your own, and that’s an amazing feeling, you know?”

He nods, and your eyes meet again. However, this time you both laugh, lowering your heads at the same time, without saying anything else because someone interrupts you.

Hope’s calling you. Both of you.

You look up toward where the little voice is coming from, and the little girl is waving.

“Daddy! Peter’s mommy! Look!”

After saying that, she goes down the slide with her little arms raised, Peter right behind her. Then, when she reaches the bottom, she waits for Peter to catch up before climbing back up again.

“You’ve done a good job with him,” Leon blurts out, without taking his eyes off your children. “He admitted he messed up earlier. That’s not easy for a kid.”

“Yeah, well…” you exhale carefully, still a little angry about the situation and, above all, disappointed. “He was the one who started all this shit. He knew that it was either apologize to Hope or no cartoons and no going to the park for a month… at least.”

Leon gives you a small smile.

“And Hope… she’s such a kind girl, even after Peter made things pretty difficult for her these past few days,” you add.

“She has a good heart,” he says. “A little shy, but I guess she takes after her father.”

Leon and you wander back and forth, sitting down whenever you feel like it, joining in to play with your children while you talk about a little bit of everything and let time pass, to your surprise, way too quickly.

Hope and Peter are lost in their own world, running back and forth, stopping to discuss strategies for the games they’ve made without really knowing what they’re doing. At one point, your son even takes the game too seriously, climbing onto a step that was too high, and ends up falling so dramatically that it makes little Kennedy laugh too hard.

“He’s going to end up hurting himself…” you murmur, shaking your head and smiling.

“Probably,” Leon replies, crossing his arms. “But that’s just how kids are, right?”

You see how Peter heads toward a seesaw, sitting down on one of the seats while looking at Hope, waiting for her to join him. To your surprise, the little girl stands still, her gaze lost… until it meets yours.

You’re surprised that, even she seems quite hesitant, she starts walking toward the bench where you and her father are sitting with a shy smile on her lips.

“Hi, Hope,” you say as she lowers her steps.

The little girl stops in front of you, looking you up and down shyly. Still smiling at her, you see her features more closely: her cheeks are round and very, very red, covered in freckles; her hair, an ash-blonde similar to her father’s, is wavy, and her eyes… are exactly like Leon’s, except they’re closer to a rather beautiful greenish hue.

“Hi…” she says softly, looking down.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Now she’s the one looking you up and down, curiously, as if trying to figure out if there’s more to you than just being Peter’s mom.

“You’re really pretty.”

You’re stunned, and next to you, Leon freezes completely. Just like you, he doesn’t know what to say.

A little giggle of surprise escapes your lips before you can hold it back.

“Oh… Thanks, Hope. You’re very pretty too.”

“And I really like your hair!”

Following the little girl’s finger, almost instinctively, you tuck a strand behind your ear. You feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Really?”

“Yes. It’s really pretty!”

For a few moments, neither of you says anything else, not even Leon. You notice Hope’s expression shifts from a full smile to one that suggests she’s about to say something else.

Her eyes widen and dart from her father to you, until they settle on you:

“Are you going to be my new mommy?”

That, of course, takes you completely off guard. You let the silence settle between you, mulling it over in your head, trying to come up with an answer simple enough so that the little girl…

Shit.

You look at Leon, who’s clearly just as surprised as you are. You see him part his lips slightly, as if he’s about to say something, but he ends up closing them. Just like you did earlier, you see his cheeks turning red, perhaps out of embarrassment at his daughter’s question.

Fair enough.

“Well…”

You try to speak, but the words vanish.

What were you supposed to say to her when you’d only just met her father?

Hope looks at you with wide, innocent eyes, encouraging you to answer a question that, of course, seemed like the most common one she could’ve asked you.

“Well… that’s a pretty important question,” you lean forward, a sigh escaping your lips. “And also a little bit difficult. I might need some time to think about it.”

“Really?” she asks, innocently.

You nod, a smile spreading across your face.

“Okay, Peter’s mommy.”

You think that’s the end of it, but your son comes running up to you, placing his hands on his knees and catching his breath, as if he’d just stepped out of a cartoon.

He stares at his new friend, not even bothering to look at you or Leon.

“What are you doing with my mom?”

“I asked her if she’s going to be my new mommy,” the girl replies immediately.

Peter doesn’t seem very surprised by the question. It seems… normal to him. It seems that normal that he turns to Leon and, of course, lets his innocence appear:

“Wait…” he narrows his eyes, pointing at Leon. You see his face, and you realize that, just like you, he knows where this is going. “Does that mean you’re going to be my dad now?”

You press your lips together and try to calm yourself down, struggling to keep your composure.

You notice how Leon’s looking at Peter. The surprise on his face gradually turns into a smile much wider, and even more sincere, than the ones you’ve been seeing all afternoon.

“Wow, buddy, that’s such an important question, too,” he replies calmly.

“You’re so, so cool, Mr. Kennedy.”

“Appreciate that, bud.”

A nervous laugh escapes your lips, and you turn around when you notice Hope, still by your side, gently tugging at your sleeve to get your attention.

“But you could be my new mummy, right?” she continues to insist with complete confidence.

“Yes, and you can be my dad too, Mr. Kennedy!” Peter adds quickly, jumping in front of Leon.

You exchange a glance with Leon.

“Well…” you begin. As you try to find the right words, you brush a few strands of hair away from Hope’s face with your hand. “Getting a new dad and a new mom takes a while.”

“Why?” the little girl asks, furrowing her brow.

“Because people need time to get to know each other first,” Leon explains gently.

You turn your head, thanking him with your eyes. He smiles back at you, crossing his arms as Peter curls up on his lap, looking up at him.

“Like playdates?” she asks, looking at Leon, who bursts out laughing.

“Something like that, yeah,” you confirm.

Hope’s face lights up completely, and she also plops down on her legs, only to immediately start jumping in circles around the bench where you’re sitting.

“Then we can do that!”

“Yes! Please!” Peter insists, joining her.

“All right, all right!” you say, laughing as you stand up. Leon follows your lead, and Peter doesn’t let go of your legs. “Let’s take one step at a time, okay?”

Without hesitation, Hope takes your hand. At the same time, you notice that Peter seems to want to do the same with Leon but, instead, he stays by his side, close enough so he doesn’t feel left out.

Leon realizes that, even it might not seem like it, he’s as shy as Hope is.

“You two are moving fast, huh?” Leon asks, running his hand through Peter’s hair and then placing his hands on his shoulders as they walk together, your son in front of him.

“I could say the same about the two of you,” you point out, while Hope, standing next to you, laughs. “Seems like now you’re pretty good friends.”

“Like you and me!” Hope shouts from beside you, jumping up again. Then she lifts her little head and looks at you. “Can we go play a little more?”

“Of course.”

The little girl smiles and lets go of you right away, running toward the playground with Peter following her, shouting to her to wait for him.

“Well… wow,” you murmur under your breath.

“Yeah. They’re… intense.”

You turn toward Leon, who’s sitting on another bench. You do the same, though this time you sit a little closer to him. He seems to notice, so he looks at you and smiles shyly. You decide to move away a little in case you’re bothering him, but you’re surprised when he tells you it’s fine.

“I guess we’ve both made a really good impression on our kids. And, at least my opinion… on each other.”

Leon’s words catch you completely off guard, and you feel a little more embarrassed.

Could it be…?

You shake your head. That’s impossible: a single father wouldn’t be trying to hit on you, a single mother. And certainly not considering that your son’s made his daughter’s life miserable for the past week.

“Um…”

Leon turns toward you, moving even closer, though still keeping his distance.

“Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry about earlier. About Peter and how he behaved with Hope…”

Leon shakes his head immediately.

“Hey, no. You don’t have to apologize. We’ve already talked about this before. Don’t worry about it,” Leon insists.

“I know I’ve apologized before and all, but…” you look at Peter, seeing him laugh as Hope chases him across the lawn. “I’m embarrassed. That’s not how I raised him, so I wouldn’t want you to think badly of me,” you admit.

“Given the way you’ve treated my daughter and scolded your son, that’s the last thing I’d ever think of you,” Leon says with complete sincerity.

“Well… And then there’s this whole thing about him telling you to be his dad… He doesn’t think before he speaks. I try to teach him that words are very important, but he still doesn’t listen to me…”

“I’ve noticed. It’s okay, really,” he insists. “Besides, I should also apologize for Hope’s question about you becoming her new mom.”

You look back at the little girl. Now that you’re closer to them, you can hear him explaining the rules of a game they just made up to your son.

“She says exactly what she thinks. Plus, she’s really, really cute,” you turn toward Leon, who you catch looking at you as if he wants to say something. Seeing that he doesn’t, you decide to speak up, a little worried: “Is there something wrong?”

He quickly shakes his head.

“No, no… It’s just that… what do you think about us organizing playdates? I mean, if you want to, of course. If not, it’s no big deal—”

“You serious?” you ask, surprised, cutting him off.

“Hope would love to have, at least, one good friend. And considering how the week started, and how things are now…” at first, you’re concerned by his words, but you gradually relax when you notice the playful tone behind them. “Maybe it would do them both some good.”

“I’d like that, too. It’d be nice, yeah,” you smile.

You notice how Leon seems to relax. You also notice how, once again, it looks like he’s about to say something, but only this time he beats you to it before you can keep talking:

“Maybe… we could grab coffee sometime, too. Just the two of us.”

Now that really catches you completely off guard.

“You don’t have to do that, Leon,” you reply nervously, fidgeting with your hair.

“I know.”

“No, no, what I mean’s…” you lower your gaze, biting your lip. “You don’t have to be nice to me just because our kids—”

“I’m being completely serious,” he replies. “Our kids seem to enjoy each other’s company, and I’m having a pretty good time with you today, too. Besides… I’d like to get to know you better.”

The confession catches you completely off guard, but you’re glad to hear it even though a part of you, deep down, thinks Leon is only doing this out of a sense of obligation.

You look away once again with a smile, completely flustered, before looking back at him:

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this.”

“That’s not why I’m doing it. I’m doing it because I really want to. I’d really like to get to know you better,” he repeats.

“Okay…” you reply shyly. “Playdates and coffees with you sounds pretty good.”

“Really?” he replies, and you’re not sure if he’s surprised or relieved.

“How about we start tomorrow after we drop the kids off at school? Is it okay with you?”

Leon smiles from ear to ear, and you can’t help but smile back.

“Yeah. A coffee with you is more than okay with me.”

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! Feedback, as well as comments and/or reblogs, are very much appreciated! My inbox is also open in case you want to make a request or talk to me! 💖

you let satoru do as he pleases, threading your hands through his hair as his hand dips between your inner thighs. he hums into your neck when you scratch his scalp. “suguru,” you breathe, “how’d you two even get here? coach toji’s gonna kill you guys.”

“kiss,” satoru interrupts. you tilt your head towards him, eyes still on suguru as gojo presses his lips to yours.

suguru’s face twists in disgust, but he doesn’t comment. “satoru bribed him. paid him a couple hundreds to see you for five minutes.”

“right—” your voice strains when gojo gropes your ass once again. “and you followed him because?”

geto is already looking away. “he bribed me too.”

you snort, but it turns into a shiver as satoru sucks on your earlobe. he hums, pleased, when your fingers tighten in his hair.

“mmh… got an away match,” he kisses your jaw. “wanted to see my girl first.”

you’re not his girl, you know you’ll never be, but you still laugh when he squeezes your waist & presses hurried kisses to your cheek. you shove him away & his grin is cocky.

“gonna score for you,” he tugs you back, dipping his head to your ear. “and then you’ll treat me, yeah?”

you hum when his arms snake around your hips once again.

“only if you score the winning goal.”

2. POST MATCH SEXCAPADES !

satoru comes back too late.

you’re not sure exactly why—maybe overtime, maybe the team stopped somewhere to celebrate their win—but you don’t let the thought plague you. you’re more concerned about the fact that it’s nearly evening & you can hear a ball kicking against the gym walls. you’re still in your cheer uniform, tiny skirt & sheer top, standing at the metal doors as you watch gojo dribble on his own.

he stops dribbling to catch his breath, wiping sweat off his chin. and then he’s off to sit at the bleachers, letting water slide down his neck as he chugs from a bottle.

you take it as your cue.

you have your hands behind your back, padding all slow, steps soft as you make your way to him. gojo keeps his bottle pressed to his lips but he sees it. how your skirt clings to your thighs. how your breasts ripple under the thin material. he lets out a low hum as you sit yourself on his lap.

you loop your hands around his neck. “hi.”

his lip tugs. “hi,”

he squeezes your waist as you press yourself into him. your tits smush against his chest, nipples hardening, and his fingers are already tracing the hem of your skirt & gliding up your thigh.

“how was the match?” you mumble.

“was good,” he mutters, but his thumb has already found your panties underneath your skirt. he rubs a slow circle over the bud. “you miss me?”

“no,” you sass, but he presses his thumb into your clit & your hips stutter. satoru laughs.

“i know what you like now,” he hums, left hand gliding up your side as the other rubs slow circles over your panties. “know it only takes a little.”

his thumb finds your nipple through your thin shirt. he rubs a circle over the pebbled peak, slow, but then he raises a brow. “no bra?”

you can’t respond. your breath hitches as your head falls into his shoulder.

“so cute,” he murmurs softly. he lets you press against him, leaving your panties to grope your heavy tits in his palm. he squeezes and fondles, pressing light kisses to your cheek as you make pretty noises in his ear. your hips buck into him.

“needy,” he scoffs, but his hands come up to guide your hips as you rut against him. he’s already hard and your panties are soaked thin and you let the material cling between your folds as your clit rubs against him. he flips up your skirt to find you drenched & slobbering. he bites his cheek.

“fuck, baby,” he rasps, sliding your panties over your aching cunt. you’re still humping him. “why’s your pussy so fucking wet?”

you only whimper as he presses his thumb to your sticky clit, rubbing hard circles over the bud. his other hand gropes your hip, guiding you faster over him. your breathing shudders as his thumb circles your clit faster and harder, until your hips are stuttering & he’s cupping your pussy so you cum in his palm.

you whimper, tears pricking at your lashes as you come down from your high. satoru kisses your cheek slow. “mmh, good job, baby.”

he’s still rubbing his palm over your pussy, massaging your warmth all slow & lazy. your eyes drop to his bulge, his cock practically twitching in his shorts. you reach a hand to glide over it, palming him so his hips twitch. he inhales sharply, “fuck—”

“not in my uniform,” he steals your hand, kissing your jaw. “gonna be a nightmare to clean.”

you glare at him through your lashes. “it’s already dirty, idiot.”

he laughs at your pretty face glaring up at him. your cheeks are still flushed, lashes wet, and your lips are in a frown but satoru swears you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. he folds his hand over yours and dips his head to kiss you warm & slow. you gasp as his tongue pushes in, a soft moan leaving your lips as his tongue grazes yours.

“another time,” he murmurs against your lips. “no pouting, yeah?”

you pout anyways, and satoru kisses it off.

3. NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND !

satoru is driving too fast.

his jaw is tight, knuckles white against the steering as you clutch your seatbelt beside him. your heart hammers against your ribs but the engine soon slows, his foot easing down on the breaks as the car comes to a stop at a traffic light.

today’s match went bad, really bad, so bad to the point that afterwards you’d tried to console him and he’d simply walked past. you try not to let it get to you. you know how men are when it comes to losing in sports.

but satoru’s breathing settles beside you, so you try once more.

“you played good today.”

silence.

"i know you're upset," you continue, voice soft. "but it's just one game, and you'll get them next time.”

silence again. his jaw only ticks, face illuminated by the traffic light’s red glow. the seconds seem to stretch into minutes, and you fumble with your skirt.

“you did your best,” you turn to him. “that’s all that matters—“

“can you stop?”

you freeze.

satoru doesn’t look at you. his fingers tap against the steering as he lowers his foot to the gas pedal. he’s not speeding anymore, but the silence stretches & you can feel a lump clawing at your throat.

you bite your lip. and satoru’s mad, yes, but he’s got no right to talk to you like that or take his anger out on you. so you suck in a breath, try to correct him. “i was only trying to help. you don’t have to take it out on me—“

“do you ever get tired of talking?”

“what?”

but satoru continues. “you always have something to say, don’t you? you’re not my fucking girlfriend. and i don’t need your fucking comfort.”

you blink. the words don’t register at first, but soon your throat is closing up, and you’re nodding obediently before you can think any better of it. your skirt bunches in your hands as you try to keep your breathing steady. god forbid you give him a reason to snap at you once again.

“you’re right,” you try for sass but it fails. “and i won’t act like it again.”

but satoru sees you through the rearview mirror. your eyes are on your lap, like you’re still trying to process what just happened, your thumbs fiddling with the hem of your skirt. satoru only swallows, glances away. if he ignores you long enough, you’ll be just fine, right?

your breath hitches beside him and he crumbles immediately.

he’s already pulling over, unbuckling his belt to reach over the console. “no baby, i’m sorry,” he pleads, and maybe he shouldn’t because it only makes tears fall from your eyes. “shh baby don’t cry, i’m sorry, i’m so fucking sorry.”

he smushes your face into his chest, carding his fingers through your hair. you try to push him away but he takes your hand and presses it to his chest.

“didn’t mean to snap at you,” his breathing is ragged as he cups your face. “don’t cry baby, you know i hate it when you cry.”

you sniffle as he swipes a thumb over your wet lashes. “then what are we?”

satoru doesn’t answer. instead he presses his lips to yours, slow and warm, head tilting to deepen the kiss. “you’re my girl,” kiss. “my baby,” kiss. “my everything,” kiss.

he doesn’t say my girlfriend. but he doesn’t need to, right?

footballer!gojo doesn’t do relationships. and cheerleaders like you don’t make good girlfriends anyway. so you swallow the lump growing in your throat & let him part open your thighs.

SCORE, end