#(at least where it concerns the idea of love)

[queenshelby]

The Accident (Part One)

Pairing: Reader & Cillian Murphy

Warning: Accident, Child Birth, Abuse, Religious Themes

Thank you @blondie-22 for this amazing idea!

The streets of Dublin buzzed with life. Cars were honking, pedestrians chatting, and the distant sound of laughter echoing against the stone buildings.

As you navigated through the chaos to attend one of your medical appointments that day, your thoughts were cloaked in a heavy fog of fear and regret.

With each bump of the road, you felt the weight of your current situation settling deeper into your chest, an anchor pulling you down.

“Is this all there is to my life?” you muttered under your breath, the question steeped in resignation as you were pregnant again and due to deliver your second child. You had dreamed of freedom, laughter, and love, dreams that now felt like whispers of someone else’s life.

The cityscape blurred as you maneuverer through the crowded streets, a painful reminder of all you had sacrificed.

“What if I run away from all this?” you thought to yourself, but just as quickly as this thought appeared in your mind, fear clutched at your heart. “Was it even possible and, if it was, where would you go?” you questioned yourself. You weren’t even meant to be here, in this country and you had no insurance, no visa, no rights.

Suddenly, a blaring horn sliced through your contemplation.

Bam! The jarring collision jolted you as your car jerked to a halt. "Fuck!" you cursed as you gripped the steering wheel, a wave of pain radiating from your abdomen. A moment of shock enveloped you. You glanced up to see the other driver, a sharp-dressed man with striking blue eyes, scrambling out of his car.

“What the hell were you thinking?” you shouted, pushing the door open and stepping onto the asphalt, your heart racing. Every nerve in your body was tingling with adrenaline and distress.

His voice was raised over the noise of traffic. “I’m sorry! I was—” He ran a hand through his gray-streaked hair, obviously flustered. “I was distracted!”

“Distracted? By what?” you retorted, biting back your anger as the stranger looked down at your swollen stomach, not bothering to answer your question.

“Are you okay?” the stranger asked as he took a step closer, his eyes widening. "We should probably get you to a hospital," he said, seeing how you were at least seven or eight months pregnant. "You need to get checked out," he told you but you shook your head.

"That's not necessary, just give me your insurance details," you snapped, feeling no worse than you did earlier that day.

He hesitated, clearly conflicted. “Look, I’m really sorry,” he said, his voice softer now, the concern in his eyes apparent. “I will give you my insurance details, but I think you really need to get checked out because you are pregnant," you could hear the tremor in his voice.

“I am fine, but I am also in a rush, so can you just give me your details," you reiterated as frustrations poured out like a dam bursting.

“Please, I—” he began, but you cut him off, the rising pain in your abdomen drawing your focus. A tightening sensation gripped you, radiating outwards like ripples in a pond.

“Shit!” The breath left your lungs as what felt like an actual contraction surged through you. You doubled over slightly, clutching your belly, eyes wide with panic.

The stranger’s demeanor changed instantly. “I will call an ambulance," he announced, but you grasped his wrist and shook your head.

“No!” You spat out, rising back to your full height, anger battling with the pain. “No ambulance," you insisted, your voice strained. “I can’t...fuck," you cursed as, suddenly, you felt a pop inside, a desperate prelude to the reality settling in. You were going into labor—now, and fast.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” His voice was insistent. You caught a glimpse of genuine concern twisting with urgency in those piercing blue eyes.

"I mean I can't!" you shouted, throwing your hands up in frustration. “You have to help me!”

“Help you? How? I’m not—” he stammered, fumbling with his phone, glancing back and forth between you and the device as if it could conjure a solution as he watched your water break, your breaths coming out in labored breaths.

“Just focus, will you?” you snapped, the urgency in your tone stopping him mid-thought. “You hit me! You deal with it!”

"I am calling a fucking ambulance, if you like it or not," he insisted, the panic pushing through as he stepped closer again and guided you towards your car. “You need to stay calm,” he said, trying to exude a confidence he didn't quite feel. “Just breathe with me, okay?”

You snatched your gaze up to meet his and for a brief moment, the emotional chaos unfurled like a ribbon between you; there was fear, pain, and something that echoed with unspoken possibility. You swallowed hard, trying to chase away the rising tide of panic.

“Don’t you dare leave me alone” you started, but another layer of pain sliced through you, cutting off your protest as you watched the stranger call the ambulance.

"Yes, she is defiantly in labor. Corner of O'Connell and Abbey Street. You need to hurry!" he spoke into the phone, his voice steadying with purpose. As he hung up and turned back to you, determination flashed in his eyes.

"It hurts so fucking much," you gasped, gripping the side of your car for support. Your knees felt weak, and the pavement beneath you was cold and unforgiving.

"I know it does." There was a calmness in his voice as he moved closely again, scanning the alley around you. "Can you walk? We should get out of the street."

You nodded slowly, though every step felt like trudging through molasses. The tightness in your abdomen ebbed and flowed, and before you could respond, another wave of pain surged through you.

“Breathe, just breathe. In and out,” he instructed softly, eyes locked onto yours. “I’m Cillian, by the way.”

“Great, now we’re on a first-name basis, huh?” you retorted, but there was a small semblance of humor piercing through the tension.

"I am Y/N," you gasped as he guided you towards a nearby alley, away from the cacophony of the street. The shadows cast by the old buildings felt oddly comforting, a temporary sanctuary from the chaos outside.

"Y/N, listen to me," Cillian said, his voice steady despite the circumstances. "You’re strong. You can do this."

You let out a weak laugh as another contraction rolled through you, shoving down the warmth rising from the connection you felt in those words. "I’ve never been strong," you gasped, clutching your belly. “I’m just… scared.” The truth slipped out, raw and unguarded amidst the chaos.

"Being scared isn't such a bad thing," Cillian replied, his brow furrowed in concentration. "It just means you're about to do something incredible. Let’s focus on what we can control. Can you tell me what you feel?"

Another wave hit, harder this time, sending a shudder down your spine. "It feels like…I can't explain it," you stuttered, struggling to keep your composure. “Like I need to push," you shook your head, tears threatening to spill over. "I can’t do this here. Not here! Please… I can’t."

He took a deep breath, grounding himself amidst the turmoil. “Y/N, look at me. We don’t have a lot of time. If you need to push, let’s get you in a position that helps.” His voice was calm, but it bore an urgency that broke through your fear.

“What do you know about childbirth?!” you practically yelled as another contraction washed over you, not even sure why you were so mad—perhaps it was instinct, or the result of the situation spiraling out of your control.

“Not much, but I've done this before, about sixteen years ago, when my wife went into labor unexpectedly," he replied, pretending to be confident even in the face of your escalating panic. He was a good actor, that's for sure, and he knew that what you needed the most right now was someone who alluded to calmness.

"Alright, fuck! Let's do this," you gasped as you reached beneath your dress to remove your undergarments and reposition yourself against the cool brick wall of the alley.

Cillian knelt beside you, his presence steady and reassuring. With a few quick breaths, he murmured "push when you need to okay?"

You nodded, and with each contraction, you could feel the reality of what was happening. The walls of the alley faded, and all that existed were the sounds of your heavy breaths and the warmth of Cillian’s encouragement beside you.

“Y/N, you’re doing great,” he said, a note of admiration creeping into his voice. “Just keep breathing. I’m here, okay?”

“Okay…” you gasped, trying to focus on his voice rather than the overwhelming pain. The sharp, twisting sensations rolled through your body, and instinct took over. You pushed.

“Good! Just like that!” Cillian encouraged, eyes fixed on you.

You gritted your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut as you bore down, feeling the fire behind the pain intensifying. “Shit! This hurts!” you cried out, the sound echoing off the brick walls.

“I know, I know! Just a bit more, Y/N,” Cillian urged, his hands steadying you as you leaned against the wall, the coolness against your skin somewhat soothing. “This is it! You’re doing it! Keep pushing, you’re almost there!”

The tension in your body coiled tighter as the next wave came crashing in, and with a primal instinct, you pushed again, feeling a surge of energy mingled with agony. A strangled scream tore from your lips.

“Come on! Just a bit more!” Cillian’s voice broke through the chaos, a beacon of hope.

With each push, you could feel the world narrowing down to just you and this moment, this life you were about to bring into the world. Finally, with one last, gut-wrenching effort, the pressure exploded outward.

"I can feel the head I think," Cillian encouraged, his voice barely a whisper as he leaned closer, intense focus etched across his features. “You’re almost there, Y/N!”

You gasped, struggles ebbing into a wild, raw energy that pushed through the exhaustion. “I can’t… I can’t,” you cried out, tears pooling as the sense of impending life overwhelmed you.

“Yes, you can,” he coaxed, unwavering.

With a determined breath, you clutched at the cold brick wall, grounding yourself as the pain peaked again. You pushed. A shout echoed down the alley, raw and primal, fueled by an instinct far deeper than the immediate ache.

Cillian’s hands were there, ready, steady. “That’s it! One more strong push, Y/N!”

This was the moment you had been waiting for, the glimpse of a brighter future despite the past's shadows looming over you.

“Push!” His voice rose with urgency, pushing you along with him.

And then, with a final forceful cry, you pushed once more, feeling the world blur around you. Darkness crept in at the edges of your vision, but you could hear Cillian’s voice, vibrant and reinforcing amid the chaos.

“Breathe, Y/N! Breathe!” he urged, and somehow, that single command kept you anchored.

Suddenly, you felt it: the unmistakable release as your baby slipped into the world. A rush of warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, the pain faded into the background, replaced by a wave of power and wonder.

With a final surge of energy, you felt your daughter’s small body leave yours entirely. A loud wail pierced the alley, sharp and full of life, echoing off the walls like a celebratory shout. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart racing not just with pain but with overwhelming relief.

"You’ve done it!” Cillian exclaimed, his voice breaking as he gently cradled the newborn in his hands. “It’s a girl!”

Your heart swelled as you glanced at the tiny being. Tears streamed down your face, a mix of exhaustion and joy flooding through you.

Without words Cillian took off his jumper and wrapped her up in it, having instantly recognized the importance of warmth. “She’s beautiful,” he said, his voice brimming with awe. You marveled at Cillian in this moment, so focused and competent, a stark contrast to the chaos and fear you knew from the life you were trying to escape.

You then broke out in tears , the full weight of everything crashing over you. “I…I can’t believe I just did that,” you whispered, struggling to catch your breath.

Cillian knelt beside you, cradling the swaddled newborn in his arms. “You did," he said softly, his eyes bright with admiration. “And she seems pretty perfect.”

As you gently touched your daughter’s cheek, a warmth spread through you, a flicker of hope igniting in your heart. “What do I…what do I do now?” you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

“First, let’s get you both some medical attention. I am sure the ambulance is on it's way and they will take you to the hospital." Cillian said but that was not what you were thinking about.

“No hospital,” you said firmly, your heart racing at the thought. It was an instinctive refusal, a protective urge that coursed through your veins.

“Y/N, you need to be checked out,” Cillian replied, his voice a mix of concern and insistence. “You just delivered a baby in an alley. You’re going to need care. For you and her.”

“No hospital,” you repeated but the wail of sirens echoed through the streets already, drawing closer. Relief washed over you despite the circumstances. You turned your gaze back to the baby cradled in Cillian’s arms, her little face turned towards you, tiny fists waving in the air.

“She’s so perfect,” you murmured, awe weaving through your voice.

“She is,” Cillian confirmed, his eyes sparkling with pride. “What are you going to call her?" he asked and you quickly responded.

“Mika.” The name slipped out of your mouth before you fully realized it was the one you had secretly cherished. “Mika… it means ‘new moon ,’” you whispered, hoping that with your second daughter having been born, you would find a way to new beginnings.

Cillian's gaze softened, understanding the significance. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he said gently just as the ambulance screeched to a halt at the mouth of the alley, its lights flashing an urgent dance of red and blue.

“See? Help is here,” Cillian said, glancing up as the paramedics jumped from the vehicle, faces serious but efficient.

You held your breath, part of you hesitant to let go of this moment—the intimacy of the alley, the fragile life cradled between you, and the bond you had formed with this stranger less than an hour ago. But reality swirled around you, heavy and looming.

“Okay,” you conceded, your voice barely a whisper. You took a shaky breath, rejuvenated by a flicker of spirit. “I’ll go with them to get checked out," you told Cillian who seemed instantly please.

“Good,” Cillian said, a small smile breaking through the worry etched on his face.

The paramedics approached, two women with kind but focused expressions, as you shifted from Cillian to their care. One of them knelt beside you, her tone warm and reassuring. “Hi there! You did such an amazing job. Let’s see that little one,” she said, her hands expertly taking Mika into her arms before turning to you, “and let’s make sure you’re feeling alright too.”

Cillian stepped back slightly, allowing the paramedics to assist. “It was nice meeting you Y/N,” he said, the pride and relief in his eyes shining through before he asked the paramedics which hospital they were taking you to.

You glanced up at him, the weight of everything beating hard in your chest. “Thank you, Cillian,” you said softly, ache filling your voice as you realized how much more than just a stranger he had been to you in the chaos. "I couldn't have done it without you," you said and Cillian held your gaze, his blue eyes flickering with an intensity you couldn’t quite understand.

“You did everything, Y/N. I just happened to be there,” he replied, his tone earnest and protective. "I will visit you and Mika at the hospital later if that's okay," he then added, his words filled with genuine concern.

"Really?" you asked, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over you. It felt strange to have someone who cared, especially after everything you had endured.

"Of course. I want to make sure you both are okay," he nodded, his expression serious.

The paramedic gently placed Mika into your arms, a fresh wave of overwhelming emotion coursing through you as you cradled her. She was so small, so fragile, and full of life. “You’ll be okay, little one,” you whispered, tears brimming again as you gazed down at her while the stranger quietly disappeared from the scene, attending some matters relating the accident as police too arrived and began to take statements from those involved and you wondered whether you would ever see him again.

"It's not every day an Oscar winner delivers your child now, is it?" one of the paramedics said teasingly after Cillian had disappeared and you did not know what she was talking about.

"What do you mean?" you asked she was already helping you into the ambulance with Mika swaddled close to your chest.

“Cillian Murphy? The guy who just helped you deliver your daughter," the paramedic explained, her voice tinged with excitement. “He’s a big deal around here. You're lucky!"

You blinked, momentarily stunned but didn't really care. You haven't watched a movie in years, and you most certainly did not feel lucky about the situation you were in.

Your life was a mess. It was awful and complicated, but as you sat in the ambulance, the warmth of Mika against you felt like the first tender thread pulling you from the darkness.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[womanenjoyeranduselesslesbian]

Her ever lasting grip

wc: 1209 ☘︎︎

Content: Manipulation and emotional abuse, Toxic relationships, violence, noncon touching, kidnapping, power imbalance.

If this fic was messy af I’m so sorry, it’s my first time writing 🂱

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Rio… I—I left you for a reason, that was at least what you would tell her if you ever crossed paths again.

Years ago, long before Agatha Harkness had her hands on the Darkhold, you were entangled with Rio. In the beginning it seemed perfect. The connection between the two of you was intense, almost intoxicating. But soon things began to change. She started telling you who you could talk to, who you couldn’t, what you could wear, what you couldn’t. It was subtle at first, disguised as concern or affection, but the control she exerted tightened day by day. She loved it, the way she could manipulate you, bend you to her will, drawing you into her toxic web.

You had no idea why you didn’t leave her earlier. Maybe it was because she was a stronger witch, her power looming over you like a shadow. You knew, deep down that no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t truly escape. Not without consequences.

Then, the rumors began to spread about Agatha Harkness, a powerful witch who had killed her own mother and now wielded the powerful Darkhold. In all the chaos you saw hope,If Agatha was all that powerful maybe she could help you with Rio.

One night, after Rio had finally drifted off to sleep you made your move. Heart pounding you crept out of the old house.You had heard Agatha wasn’t far, only a couple of towns away hiding deep in the forest. You followed the whispers of her dark magic and found her standing over another witch taking her power with ease. Agatha’s presence was chilling, but you were past the point of no return.

Falling to your knees, you begged her to take you with her, to free you from Rio’s grasp. Something in your plea seemed to strike a chord with her, and perhaps out of pity or curiosity Agatha agreed. She let you stay, but there were conditions. In return for her protection, you would help her in whatever ways she needed.

And then the Hex came. A distortion of reality created by Wanda Maximoff, drawing you, Agatha, and the others into the made up world. You played your role as the nosy neighbor’s wife and agatha as the nosy neighbor. But when Agatha broke free and lost the battle Wanda hexed you both once more, trapping Agatha in Westview’s fabricated reality and you along with her.

Months later, you and Agatha found yourselves on a case that felt all too familiar. Like something sinister was lurking beneath the surface. That’s when your boss introduced a new detective to join the case. The moment you laid eyes on her the fear creeped up on you. It was Rio. Though she seemed calm the sight of her sent a wave of dread coursing through you. She smiled like it was nothing but you felt the weight of her presence like a collar tightening around your neck making it hard to breathe. That night, while you and Agatha sat watching TV the doorbell rang.

It was Rio.

She stood at the threshold, a casual smile on her lips, holding a box of pizza. Agatha squinted, like she recognized her but couldn’t place her finger from where. You, on the other hand, knew exactly who she was and what she was capable of. The discomfort gnawed at you as the three of you settled in.

Then came a noise from upstairs, something crashing to the floor. Agatha leaped up, rushing to investigate but you stayed frozen in place. Moments later, Rio’s fingers brushed against your leg, slowly creeping higher until they rested on your thigh.

“What are you doing?” you stammered, your voice trembling.

“Just touching what’s mine,” she whispered, her breath warm against your ear. You felt her body press against your back, like a reminder of the hold she still had on you. Her voice was soft, but the possessiveness in her words was suffocating.

Thankfully Agatha came back pretty quickly. It was just some kid that broke in, and the interrogation that followed didn’t take long. Agatha and Rio stayed behind at the station but you seized the opportunity to escape. Rushing home you collapsed onto your bed, exhaustion pulling you into a deep slumber. But even in sleep, Rio’s presence lingered, haunting your dreams. You saw flashes of what might have happened if you had been alone with her just a little longer, the weight of her magic pulling you deeper into the nightmare.

Hours later, screams tore you from your sleep. Jolting awake cold with sweat you raced downstairs, fear gripping your chest. What you saw stopped you cold. Rio had Agatha pinned against the wall with a wave of her hand, her magic rippling through the room like a storm, destroying anything that gets in its way.

But that wasn’t what shocked you the most.

As you stood there, watching the scene unfold, memories you had long buried came rushing back. Memories of the torment, the manipulation, the way Rio had twisted every part of you until you were no longer yourself, your childhood, the day you met Agatha and so much more. Rio glanced over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming with malice.

“Be a doll and help me, won’t you?” she cooed, smirking.

You hesitated for a heartbeat before bolting towards the back door, but it was already too late. A sharp pain exploded in your head, and everything went black. You could hear her laughing, her voice echoing in the darkness as your body went limp. To her, you were nothing but a foolish girl, someone who still needed her to think, to act, to live.

With Agatha still pinned helplessly to the ground, Rio bent down and scooped up your unconscious body, holding you effortlessly in her arms.

“The Salem Seven will probably be here by dawn,” Rio chuckled, her voice dripping with satisfaction. Then, with a final cackle, she disappeared into the woods behind the house, carrying you away, powerless once more.

[triglycercule]

dust has definitely killed killer before fighting over papyrus's scarf. killer and dust both have opposing views on papyrus's scarf. killer doesnt like seeing others wear it and (SHUT UP I KNOW ITS NOT CANON!!!!) dust wears it in papyrus's honor and probably for self comfort. killer even ripping a thread on the scarf warrants dust to break his hand (because killer has his silly little backstory where he did the genos and everything hes wayyy more violent towards him than horror bc horror didn't kill everyone (HYPOCRITE!!! HYPOCRITE!!!!)) anyways when killer touches dust's scarf is one of probably the few times he can't win a fight against him

perchance i think dust should get to tear apart killer's soul right infront of his eyes while he screams in pain and dust gives him the coldest look ever to exist (and horror was watching with popcorn :3)

[jlf23tumble]

Some people think Brad is part of Harry's team as he spent so much time around Harry's managers and also the Full Stop crew. He was at a Full Stop meeting. Maybe he's a handler. He came more into the picture when Jeff took a step back. I hope he is part of the team anyway as I hate the thought of Harry being so body conscious that he always needs his trainer at his side.

I keep getting stuck on the idea that anyone can say for a fact Brad [Last Name Unknown to Me] was at a Full Stop meeting, lmao, or that he's the step dad who stepped up because Jeff's busy (??), but moreover, why anyone would care about his exact place in Harry's life at any given moment. Harry is surrounded by so many thumb-faced white men, I'm impressed people have the time in their day to not only document who they are but what meetings they've attended and what their roles are, ay yi yi

[solvicrafts]

*gently grabs and shakes Legend of Drizzt fandom*

listen guys as a former MCU stan I can safely say that even if I don't always like everything going on with drow and the LOD series I can safely say that Bob fucking cares about his characters and genuinely respects his fans

You guys seriously have no idea how fucking lucky we are

And if you don't believe me? Just look at what the fucking Loki and Gamora fans went through with Infinity War and Endgame

[poptartmochi]

completely unexpected turn of events this episode.. also the ending.. GIRL!!!!!!!!! GET AWAY FROM THAT THANG AT ONCE MISTER BOY!!!

[nereidprinc3ss]

kiss it better

in which spencer notices your bruised knees and tries to make it up to you

18+ (fluff, allusions to past intimacy) warnings/tags: gn!reader i believe, reader has bruised knees lol, guess why, implied intimacy, hurt/comfort, sorta implied d/s dynamics maybe?? spencer is so smart and not very smart, but forever my no. 1 cutie pie a/n: why do i love writing about smut like before and after smut way more than i actually like writing smut LOL anyways here is this cause i haven't been posting very much!!! (also ik I said I don't like babe as a pet name but shhh) and GIF :D

“Hey,” you grunt as you flop on the bed in your pajamas, rumpling the neat covers. “Pay attention to me.”

Spencer holds his Sudoku off to the side and watches, eyebrows raised, as you scoot closer, tossing your leg over him. Soon he’s abandoning the book and pen on the bedside table in favor of hooking his fingers under your knee and stroking your leg, much to your delight. 

“Okay. What kind of attention would you like?”

You allow him to put his other arm around you and settle your cheek on his shoulder. 

“This is pretty good.”

“Oh, good,” he says with only a hint of teasing, leaning down slightly to kiss your lips and then the tip of your nose. 

When he pulls away you can’t help smiling up at him like a lovestruck idiot. Obviously he’s perfect all the time, but in his glasses, with his hair messy, wearing a navy crewneck instead of a button up and tie… he’s just… he’s just so…

He’s just so alarmed?

“Honey, your knee.”

“My knee?” Your own brows furrow and you track his eye line, craning your neck to look down to the blotchy sprawl of purple and red marring your skin. “Oh.”

The pillow is soft under your head where it falls, unconcerned even as Spencer gawps at you, baffled by your nonchalance. 

“What did you do?”

You snort. 

“What did you do, Spencer?”

It’s cute, the way his lips move as he silently repeats the sentence, trying to discern the meaning of your words. 

“What do you mean? I did something?”

“Babe.”

The knot between his brows has not loosened any—in fact you’re worried he’s going to give himself a headache. Or at least make himself dizzy, with the way his eyes cycle between your own. You try again, covering his anxious hand on the bend of your leg with your own. 

“When we got back from Penelope’s thing, the other night?”

Slowly the understanding seeps into his expression—soft guilt in his eyes, and a deep red stain in his cheeks. At least his face relaxes. 

“Oh.”

God, he’s so cute. He can’t hold eye contact, looking down once the shock of embarrassment has faded and swallowing, a little frown twisting his features once more. You reach up, brushing his cheek with a thumb and adjusting his glasses. 

“What’s wrong?”

The question comes out too smiley, but you can’t help it. 

“I hurt you,” he says, quietly, utterly ashamed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“I kinda think you did,” you tease, and Spencer says your name with a serious edge. You try to quit grinning so much. “Baby, it’s fine. You didn’t hurt me. Don’t you ever get mysterious bruises?”

His eyes are wide and honest on yours when he meets them again. 

“No. My iron levels are optimal.”

Naturally. 

“Okay, well, lots of people do. Sometimes I get a bruise and I have no idea what it’s from because it never hurt. These,” you look down, gesturing to your knee, “never hurt. It’s just what happens when your knees hit the floor.”

“Well you shouldn’t have been on the floor,” he scolds, countering with a sweet touch on your cheek. “I’m never letting you touch the floor ever again.”

Your shit-eating grin is back and better than ever. “Oh, so you’re going to carry me everywhere we go?”

“If that’s what it takes. I don’t like seeing you bruised up.”

“It’s okay. I bruised myself doing something I love.”

At this Spencer rolls his eyes and kisses you once more before gently pushing your leg away and getting out of bed. 

“Where are you going?” You ask, all smugness gone and more concerned than you ought to be as he flicks the bathroom light on. For a moment you receive no answer, but then he reappears bearing a white tube. 

“Give me your legs,” he says, sitting next to you on the bed. You swing your legs over his lap and watch on in mild interest as he dispenses lotion from the bottle and tosses it aside, carefully rubbing it into the bruised skin. Every few seconds he glances up to gauge your reaction, and though it’s definitely tender, you avoid wincing. “You don’t have to do that. I can tell it hurts.”

You laugh. 

“Yeah, well, it didn’t until you started trying to fix it.” The ointment is pungent and you make a face. “What are you rubbing all over me?”

“This is vitamin K and Arnica. It will make the bruises go away faster.”

“Aw. You don’t think they’re pretty on me?”

He sets the bottle on the nightstand and retrieves the pen he’d been doing Sudoku with earlier, uncapping it. Your heart swells as he draws tiny sad faces by the bruises on your knees, glasses slipping down his nose as he focuses intently. 

“I always think you’re pretty. I just never want you to be hurt, ever.”

“Are you done taking care of me now?” You ask, reaching out for him. The pen joins the bottle and suddenly he has no concern for your bodily health, practically crushing you with a hug. When he speaks it’s muffled by your shoulder. 

“Never.”

You hum, nose tickled in his hair and forming a dastardly plan. 

“You could kiss them better.”

Spencer laughs and presses his lips briefly to your neck. 

“I might just do that.”

[zoekrystall]

Hello hello excuse me why the absolute fuck can you not mute words on bluesky I am going to combust that is such a basic thing?? What the fuck?? I might not use it until they implement that bc what is this. I just tried to mute bc I glanced at my timeline and read bg3 and remembered oh. Right. The thing that makes me avoid all streams rn. (good game, specific character brings bad thoughts up, don't ask, twt is already agony since but not anyone's fault the mute function there sucks). Also like me and a lot of other people got more standard bad stuff they don't wanna see and don't want to start muting whole accs we follow??? There is a free extension I need to figure out how to get on mobile (shouldn't be too hard for me) but I shouldn't need to do that for such a basic and no brainer function. Idc if it comes later stuff like that should be there from day 1. Like even if no-one would post abt the most standard triggering topics literally everything can be a potential trigger for someone even the most harmless stuff.

[syluss-littlecrow]

better than the devil

<sylus x fem!reader>

where you find out if Sylus really has horns, and why he avoids letting you touch them

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, size kink (i mean bro is PACKING), breeding kink, sylus’s horns are ✨sensitive✨, dirty talk, sexual tension, missionary, a fuck ton of horn play, horny horns, cumming untouched, orgams galore!, so much cum♡

w/c: 2.9K

a/n: gotta thank the loml @bro-atz for helping me with this a little ehehehe >:) I hope this destroyed yall as much as this destroyed me to write it!!🥹

They say he takes the form of some dragon-like creature—with large black horns and wings. 

The first time you witnessed it with your own two eyes was when he choked out a serpent wanderer ten times his size before it got to you. You were semi-conscious at that point of time, the fatigue threatening to take over, but you had caught a glimpse of his silhouette—two thick appendages that curled proudly past his dirty silver hair, and large wings that hung off his back—before you blacked out. 

“Staring at me isn’t going to get any of your curiosities satisfied”, Sylus snaps you out of your thoughts. Your gaze flickers to his face, but Sylus has his eyes on his phone. 

Then his gaze shifts to you. 

“What are you thinking about, sweetie?”

Of course, you couldn’t just tell him outright that you wanted to see him magically grow his horns out of his head. You doubt even Luke and Kieran have seen it themselves. 

“Your horns.”

Sylus lowers his phone onto his lap, then he cocks an eyebrow, which turns to a furrow in seconds. 

“What gave you the idea that I grew horns?” He asks, his tone laced with mock and caution. His attention is fully on you now. 

Yeah, maybe that was not a good question to ask. Then again, being around someone as direct as Sylus had made you pick up his mannerisms quite a fair bit. 

“Nothing really”, you brush off, attempting to derail the conversation before something goes wrong. “I’m just curious.”

“Talk”, Sylus demands, albeit in a soft tone. “I’m listening.” 

His crimson eyes burn a hole into your head, and you now only realise the way he has you cornered on his couch, his large frame looming over yours. 

You sigh, realising he’s not about to let it go anytime soon. 

“A few weeks ago, during one of the battles we had, where I almost died-“

“Get to the point, sweetie”, Sylus cuts, seeing through your guise. 

You pout. “Right. Before I blacked out, I saw you appear right in front of me, with horns.”

Sylus raises his eyebrows, seemingly in amusement. “You sure you weren’t hallucinating?”

He earns a smack on his chest. You’re ready to let him disprove you further or whatever, but your body jolts when you feel Sylus snake his arms around your waist before he carries you effortlessly off the corner of the couch and onto his lap. 

You watch his eyes grow soft when he locks his gaze with yours. His expression is unreadable.

Your eyes widen in amazement when the thick pair of horns curl past his locks, the black a stark contrast with his white hair. He looks like he’s wearing bows in a funny, demonic type of way. Not that he has to know that. 

You continue to stare at his horns, visually taking in the rough yet smooth texture and patterns that run downwards as the horns grow thicker towards the base. 

“What are you really?” You wonder aloud, your fingers reaching out to feel the interesting texture of his horns, only for him to pull away quickly.

“It’s not the right time for you to know”, he replies curtly. You notice the glint of concern in his eyes, shrouded under the indifferent expression he wears. 

So you decide to leave it for now, at least. 

Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop you from annoying the ever-loving shit out of Sylus about his horns once you found out about it.

He would stare at you with his eyebrows furrowed, muttering that he should have never told you about his horns, only for you to bat your eyelashes at him, much to his annoyance. 

“At least let me touch them if you’re not gonna tell me more about them”, you would whine. With a frown, he would push your forehead with a finger, giving you his standard answer.

"No."

“Then could you at least tell me why you won’t let me touch your horns?”

He would rest his thumb and index finger on his chin, feigning a thinking stance before his expression drops deadpan and then the curt answer leaves his lips.

“No.”

You’re putting this right next to when you were fighting for your life to get that fucking brooch months ago. 

While the thought continues to eat into your curiosity, you mostly let Sylus off the hook after a while. For some reason, you’ve been noticing that Sylus has been walking around his mansion with his horns freely out. Maybe because he’s shown you his full horns once that’s why?

Or he’s just straight-up taunting you. 

You feign nonchalance, only stealing glances at the thick appendage that stood out against his pale locks from time to time, but never really bringing it up to him, for now at least.

You hear the raindrops patter against the large windows of Sylus's room one afternoon. At least the heavy clouds are hiding the sun on top of the dark curtains drawn, and it makes Sylus's rest a little more comfortable. 

He's sound asleep beside you on his bed, but you're seated up on your phone, the sound of the rain also slowly luring you to grow sleepy. You stretch a little, careful not to wake the male beside you. Sylus grunts softly, and you feel his hair tickle your thighs.

Through your peripherals, something catches your attention. The black on white is undoubtedly hard to miss.

Now that Sylus seems dead asleep, you're considering taking a chance to take a closer look at his horns, and maybe even touch them. 

Carefully, you shift your weight closer to Sylus, monitoring his expressions and movements. When the coast is clear, you lean closer, staring at his horns with much amazement. It's a lot different now that you're this up close to admire them. 

His horns aren't simply a simple shade of jet black–at different angles, you notice how the scales of his horns shimmer like an oil spill under the soft light. Close up, the base of his horns are thick, and as it extends, it curls, almost fully wrapping around his head. 

“So pretty”, you mutter to yourself. Your fingers are reached out as if by instinct, barely inches away from touching his pretty crown. 

You pause, weighing the risks of attempting to touch his horns. How fucked would you be if you actually did? 

Your eyes scan Sylus’s calm sleeping face. He doesn't seem to have even noticed his horns have grown out. 

“It’s just a little touch, he won't feel it anyways”, you convince yourself softly, your resolve firming as your curiosity begins to bubble over your rationale.

You let your fingers brush his horn, feeling the cold and scaly texture beneath your fingertips. Your eyes are sparkling in amazement even more, now that your curiosity has been satisfied. You press your fingertips onto the appendage, enjoying how nice and cool it feels to the touch.

Just then, you hear Sylus groan slightly. Your hand immediately retracts before you fully freeze, watching the way he presses his head against your leg, his eyebrows slightly scrunched before it returns back to relaxed. 

Close call. 

You obviously don’t learn your lesson, because your fingers are on his horns almost immediately once more. You grow more curious about the feeling of running your palm across his horns this round. 

So you do.

Your hand starts from the thick base, and you stroke it, following the horn's curl, enjoying the way the texture of the scales run smooth under your palm.

And then Sylus makes a sound beneath you. You squint in curiosity, wondering if you heard it right.

So you run your hand from his tip to the base this time. 

And this time, Sylus lets out another moan. You definitely did not hear wrong. 

Your cheeks are slowly flushing when you realise what you're doing to him. But for some reason, it makes you want to do it more.

So this is why he doesn't want you touching his horns? 

With a cheeky smile, you run your fingers along his horns in various ways and places, eliciting more pretty and erotic reactions from Sylus. 

You giggle to yourself, trying to ignore how he's making you aroused with all the noises he's making with every stroke you give his horns. 

You want to go for the next round, wondering how far you can take this.

Obviously not very far, because the next time you do, Sylus’s hand catches your wrist before you're about to touch his horns again.

He stares at you with half-lidded eyes, pink dusted on his cheeks and his breathing shallow.

“Are you having fun, kitten?” He asks with a frown.

Fuck.

You feign a smile, trying to wave your hand from his grip, of course, your attempts futile. 

Sylus’s other arm curls around your thighs, locking you from leaving the bed while Sylus lets his sleep leave his body from the rude interruption. 

“Denying me of satisfying my curiosity only makes it worse”, you shrug. Well, if only Sylus had just let you have a little touch…

The corner of Sylus’s lips pull up to a half smirk. 

“Right”, Sylus replies, a hint of annoyance and something else laced in his tone before he shifts above you in one swift motion, trapping you underneath him on his bed. 

“Then, I'm sure you don't have to be reminded that actions have consequences?”

You swallow hard. 

His hand that grabbed yours is placed on his chest, and he forces you to trail down his body, feeling his thick chest, then his abs under your touch, all the way down until he stops you right on his thick erection.

“You should take responsibility, don't you think?” Sylus asks with a raised eyebrow. 

You know it's pointless even attempt to escape when he’s devouring your lips like he hasn't eaten in days. It's so intoxicating. You would never admit your greed, but Sylus knows you well enough to feed you so good. You want to pull him so impossibly close.

In between breathless kisses, your warm hands trail from his biceps to his shoulders, to his neck, and right to his hair.

You test waters–letting your fingers rake through his hair, grazing the base of his horns. You get his green light when he doesn't swat you off, on the contrary, it makes Sylus grow more desperate in the kiss.

You confidently stroke his horn, from base to tip once more, and the moans that leave Sylus’s lips sound like fucking heaven. 

His crimson eyes finally meet yours, and he almost looks like he's in pain. 

“If you keep doing that–ngh–” Sylus trails off with another strained moan when the sensation of you stroking his horn buzzes right to his cock that he has shut his eyes to hold back. 

“This?” you tease, sliding your palm down to his base once more, rubbing the scaly appendage, watching him failing at trying to keep his composure. 

“Fuck”, he hisses, diving into your lips once more, eating you up. 

He pulls away briefly, pressing his lips just below your ear.

“You’re gonna be taking responsibility, kitten.”

He presses himself close onto you, so close that you feel his cock just pulsing against your pelvis, only separated by his black sweats. Sylus takes your chin in his fingers and steals your breath away once more, uncontrollably grunting with every stroke your hands play with his horns. You feel his cock twitch, then pulse before the feeling of warmth spreads across your skin, accompanied by a long, drawn out moan in your mouth.

It makes you dizzy with bliss, realising what you've done to him. 

Sylus pulls away once more, catching his breath, his eyes reflecting something more feral when you met his. 

But all you do is flash a cheeky smile at him, letting your fingers caress his cheek. 

His fingers tug at the waistband of your shorts and he yanks them off, almost growing feral for the second time when his eyes meet the sight of the way your pussy is glistening so much that a wet and thin string of arousal sticks itself in between your pussy and your soaked panties. 

Well, Sylus is holding the short end of the stick anyway, because when he tugs his sweats down, your heartbeat accelerates as your eyes land on his cock–thick, red and completely covered in white and thick cum, some staining his underwear, twitching slightly with dribbles of cum seeping past his cockhead when the fabric brushes past his balls. 

He looks so fucking delicious when he's messy like that. Shit.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself, staring at me like that”, he teases. He doesn't even look embarrassed.

“Maybe I should play with your horns more often”, you reply with a smile. Sylus narrows his eyes at you, his expression mixed with annoyance and affection. His fingers press against your soaking clit, enjoying the way the smile on your face gets wiped, replaced with a contorted expression of pleasure when he rubs it in slow circles. 

“I’m strongly against that idea, sweetie”, Sylus responds, leaning in to take in the expression of your mind slowly growing dumb and blank just from his slender fingers rubbing you out. “It’ll give you a little too much leverage over me.”

Through the hazy and building pleasure, you still manage to reply, “that's the whole point.”

Sylus only smiles at your reply, his fingers leaving your clit. You're about to protest, that is, until he grabs you by your hips, dragging you closer to him, then pressing your knees to your chest, before his wet cock slowly enters you from below. He watches your face contort in pleasure–your eyes rolling back and your eyebrows furrowed–while soaking in the fucking delicious feeling of your cunt warm and wrapped around his cock. 

“S-so good”, you whimper, his fullness knocking out any ounce of breath and sense out of you at a dangerous pace the his cock inches even deeper into you.

“Such a nice and warm pussy hole”, Sylus grits, pushing himself even deeper, his control slipping when he's buried himself all the way in. “Fuck, you're so good for me, kitten.”

You're clawing his pillows when Sylus starts fucking you, and you're looking at Sylus with such a glazed out expression–and you know it drives him fucking crazy. His palm rests on the bulge that his cock is pushing every time he enters you, and it makes your thighs shake. Your moans grow in pitch and tone on top of the sounds of lewd wet skin slapping. 

He lets you wrap your legs around his waist in return for letting him scatter love bites across your neck.

So you decide that it’s the perfect time to aim for his sensitive spots once more.

Your fingers tug against his scalp, then alternating to stroking his horns once more, throwing Sylus into another round of pleasured daze. 

You feel his cock fill you up even more, and it makes you greedy to how far you can push it.

“I really should make you regret this”, Sylus mutters, failing to suppress another groan when your fingers scratch against the base. 

His thrusts become more like ruts, his cockhead hitting your g-spot over and over as payback. Sylus sprouts a satisfied smirk as he watches you completely come undone on his cock. You throw your head back while stars flicker in and out of your vision. The pleasure is growing so fucking good that you're choking on your moans too. 

“Right there! Fuck, that feels so fucking good, Sylus”, you sob through wet lashes and heavy pants. 

Sylus is mesmerised by your pretty expressions and the pretty sounds you always make for him when he's breaking you apart. 

Maybe you finding out about his sensitive horns is his punishment for indulging in these sick pleasures. Nonetheless, he still wouldn't have any other way.

Your hands find his horns once more, and he falters for a split second. But he doesn't shake you off since he's much too focused on trying to force an orgasm out of you.

Your pussy squeezes him before it starts uncontrollably fluttering against his cock. Ah, his goal is slowly being fulfilled.

As your orgasm dangles above you, you react with periodical squeezes on his cock and his horns, which definitely draws a much larger reaction from Sylus. 

“So close”, you whine, your orgasm slowly filling the crevices of your brain, plunging you deep into pleasure. Your cunt clenches on his cock, and you unintentionally yank his horns.

Sylus fucking growls, pressing himself so fucking deep into you, his cum fucking spurting into you–so much that some is leaking out from your plugged pussy hole and onto the bed. 

He pulls his cock out momentarily, letting his cum ooze from his cockhead, his eyes darting to the loads seeping out of your hole, before he slides his cock into you once more. You gasp at the fullness, another squeeze to his horns, which only stimulates Sylus once more, and his cock fills you up with another warm and sticky load. 

He’s panting, but he musters his energy to meet your eyes. 

“Sweetie”, he calls out to you amidst his dick attempting to take over his brain. “If you don't get your hands off, your pussy won't be able to hold anymore, I guarantee.”

He's met with a fucked-out and sly grin from his partner. 

“And I thought you enjoyed challenges.”

Sylus scoffs at your comment, realising that he really has to teach his kitten a lesson to not touch things that aren't hers.

[catboyieejeno]

seventeen reaction ˚୨୧⋆˚

⋆ hhu ver.

oddly specific details/key points of their relationship with you

cw: sfw, 'girl' is only mentioned once in wonwoo's, mentions a period once, and mentions showering together in mingyu's but it's not sexual, npr!

masterlist

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ seungcheol

⋆ seungcheol, who refuses to wake you up when he leaves early for practice/schedules, no matter how much you insist that he should.

when you bring it up, he always promises you that he will next time, and in that moment, he really isn't lying! he fully intends on fulfilling your wishes and waking you up to let you know he'll be heading out; in fact, there's nothing he wants more than to selfishly wake you and bid you a proper goodbye each and every morning he has to leave for work. except on the day of, when his alarm rings at nearly six in the morning, his plans change completely. he spends the better part of an hour talking himself up to the grueling task ahead of him, reminding himself that you literally want him to wake you up.

after he's showered, gotten ready, and is moments away from heading out, seungcheol's eyes land on you, face poking out under all the blankets that you love hogging, cheeks smushed and drool gathering at the corner of your lip. that's when he realizes he doesn't have it in him to disturb your slumber, and he probably never will. ultimately, he breaks his promise, settling instead for leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek and a note or text where he expresses his apology and explains that you deserved the rest. secretly enjoys the earful he gets later, and makes it up to you so sweetly.

⋆ seungcheol, who doesn't let you lift a finger when it's not necessary: "don't worry, i'll take care of it."

it doesn't matter to seungcheol that everyone sees him as responsible and reliable—what really matters to him, is that you see it, too. has no problem with you being independent, but he definitely feels a healthy surge of pride at the prospect of being able to facilitate things for you. having you depend on him, or at the very least having you know you can depend on him for anything, is so important to him. no task is too grueling, and babying you is a partner privilege i can't see him not indulging in. the members definitely call him out for it if it ever happens in front of them, but he could not care less.

if your car needs an oil change, he'll go get it done while you're taking a nap so you don't have to worry about it later. if he notices any laundry piling up throughout the week, he'll do it while you run an errand so that you have one less thing to do when you get home. if you want to redecorate or renovate something, he's invested in your ideas, learning how build complicated furniture and polish floor tiles—anything it takes he'll do, as long as it means he can make you happy. very much an 'acts of service' kind of guy.

⋆ seungcheol, who calls everyday to check-in.

it might seem like it's the bare minimum, but when he works the job that he does and is as busy as he is, knowing that he puts time aside to call you throughout the day is so, so meaningful. especially when he's in a different time zone, staying up late into the night or getting before the sun so that he can wish you a good morning/night. always asks if you've eaten, what you're planning to do that day, etc. and he'll talk to you until he's confident that you don't feel neglected in any way. you're never a second thought to him, and he wants to make sure you feel like he's dedicating time and attention to you, even when he's not physically there to do so.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wonwoo

⋆ wonwoo, who replaces all of your favorite things the moment they run out.

the level of attention to detail he has for things involving you is both concerning and extremely endearing. he's so attentive to you and remembers all of the things you like and dislike. at the start of your relationship, it was pretty subtle: keeping your favorite drinks and snacks stocked up at his apartment for when you came over or buying a few pairs of shorts or sweats (since you’re obviously wearing his shirts) for when you’d stay the night. keeps them neatly folded in a drawer for you to wear on days need to cover up a bit more, like if Mingyu is around.

eventually, this evolves into restocking your favorite shampoo and conditioner when he's showered at yours and noticed you're out. same goes for your favorite perfume that's running low, and other house-hold things like your detergent or your favorite candle.

always makes sure you're taken care of during outings—brings hair ties and little battery-powered fans for hot days, and on cold winter days, opens his jacket so you can hug his waist and he can wrap it around you, swaying the two of you side to side. presses his cheek against yours to warm it up or kisses the icy tip of your nose.

⋆ wonwoo, whose love language is ambiguous

not only is he receptive to any love language you may have, he is somehow amazing at giving you all five (regardless of which one is your actual favorite).

gift giving? the most thought-through, special gifts for his special girl, as frequent as he deems necessary, too, because you deserve nothing less. quality time? one of his favorite things is sitting with you in a comfortable silence, making occasional jokes and comments to get you to crack a grin. a smile is his favorite look on you. acts of service? waters your plants, cooks for you, cleans or organizes things just how you like them so that you're at your most comfortable, massages your shoulders and feet after long days, runs warm, scented baths—you name it, he does it. physical touch? scoops you into his lap because he's obsessed with how warm you are, and the way your weight feels on him is so, so infatuating. likes leaving light and airy kisses on your cheek or pressing his lips into the crook of your neck. all of his kisses take your breath away, but the ones on your shoulder where he mumbles soft confessions of love are particularly awe-spiring. words of affirmation? don't be fooled by his quietness—he always has something he's eager to say to you, and if it's to pay you a compliment, there is no restriction to his words. loves telling you just how happy you make him, how pretty you are, how you're his safety-net and his soulmate and all of his favorite things put in one.

⋆ wonwoo, who sets aside time for you

you'd never have to ask him to put a book down or hop off a game. the moment you appear, he's putting everything aside to greet you and hold you and ask how you've been. if you're upset or sad, he'll glue himself to your side until you feel better. he seems like the type of person who feels very deeply for the people he cares about, so it's extremely important to him that you are always feeling your best, for his sake and yours. listens so deeply to your concerns and complaints for any matter—whether it's in an argument and you're sharing your views, or after a bad day at work where you ramble and rant about what went wrong.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ mingyu

⋆ mingyu, who is impatient when it comes to you

he's understanding of the fact that the two of you cannot always be together, considering his career and the fact that you're also busy at times; regardless, he has an inability to be away from you for longer than a few hours. it’s endearing, his neediness showing in the form of longing text messages or voice notes where he whines and mumbles, “what are you doing? i miss youuuu,”

his impatience is also evident in person, like how he runs up to the door when he hears your keys jingling because he's that eager to greet you. most of the time if he's cooking or tasting something, you end up tasting the food on his lips because he's never patient enough to wait until he swallows a bite of food before he kisses you.

⋆ mingyu, who is so gentle and thoughtful with you

loves pampering you, whether its by scrubbing your shampoo into your scalp as he sits behind you in a hot bath, or getting up before you to bring you breakfast in bed. most of the time, showering together isn't even sexual; he'll hold you close and mumble soft compliments or talk about his day, wrap you in a towel when you get out, dry your hair for you, apply lotion, whatever your regular routine is— and he truly enjoys every part of it. if he comes home after you've fallen asleep, he'll make sure your phone is plugged in and any alarms you may need are on. finishes any tasks around the house you may have forgotten to do prior to your slumber, like folding clothes you left in the dryer or washing any dishes in the sink.

treats you as if you were made of glass, covering the corners of tables when you walk by or holding your hand while you cross the street. pouts while he takes care of you if you're sick or injured, cooing and bandaging your cuts and scrapes or insisting you take your medicine around the clock and rest (perhaps even excessively... you could have seasonal allergies, and he'll still scold you for wanting to get out of bed).

⋆ mingyu, who dedicates a section of his phone to you

loves candid pictures and loves your face. simple.

there's a hidden photo album on his phone with all the pictures he has of you and with you and there are various playlists dedicated to you, too. any song that reminds him of you is on a playlist with a cheesy name. another playlist consist of songs he knows you like or even thinks you might like. plays these for you on drives where his hand clutches yours and the windows are down.

if you're an individual who gets their period, he has your period tracker on his phone so he can plan accordingly and make sure he's extra sweet to you around that time. has recipes you like/he wants to make for you set aside in a pinterest board or bookmarked on his search page. also keeps your favorite shopping apps with the cart full of things you mentioned so he can get them for you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ vernon

⋆ vernon, who can't watch shows without you

there's certain tv shows that he completely avoids unless you're there to watch them with him. even if the guys beg him to watch it, he'll refuse and lock himself in his room so there's no chance it might be spoiled. when he's with you though? a few nights of the week, the two of you sit down with snacks and sugary drinks to watch your favorite series together like an old married couple watching their nightly programs.

loves when you you curl up in his lap, both of you wrapped under one blanket with your head resting on his shoulder and his arms circled around you. his gasps and laughs and overall reactions are so loud by your ear but it's adorable and it's such a domestic and comfortable experience. it feels very familiar, and more often than not, both of you prefer this to going out.

⋆ vernon, who rests the best when he's around you

needs his afternoon naps, but specifically, he needs them with you. limbs tangled and light conversation before you drift off that just becomes slurred, pointless babbling. quiet snores and soft breaths take over as the early afternoon hours go by. just the warmth of having you near makes his heart so happy and his rest so fulfilling, especially before practice or after long hours of travelling.

it's a treat to wake up beside him after these catnaps, too. the sleepy features and tousled hair are so very boyfriend, and the way he looks at you when his eyes peek open is so cute.

⋆ vernon, who always tries new things with you

a yes man, any time, all of the time. whether you ask to go on a grocery run at two in the morning or a hike at dawn, he's saying yes. whenever you want to try something new, vernon is your partner in crime and your greatest alliance. he's not only your boyfriend, but your best friend, and it makes everything so fun. always puts a smile on your face, too. he's so goofy and easy going that it's difficult to not feel great around him.

enthusiastic and supportive when you wanna try new hobbies. always asks so many questions so you know he's interested and invested, and will get you any tools or resources you need to excel. trying new foods and restaurants is also high up on the list of things the two of you like to do. he might like keeping a little list of your favorite spots so he can find similar ones to try with you.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

[devilishcupid]

CARBON COPY | Miguel O'Hara

☆ premise: trying to find miles morales in earth-42, he encounters you. or at least, a version of you.

☆ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!alt universe!reader

☆ warnings: across the spiderverse spoilers, pregnant!reader, clueless!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, miguel's pov, some swearing

☆ a/n: oh my god. across the spiderverse is literally a masterpiece. into the spiderverse already is, but the spiderverse team said, "we can do better." they didn't have to, but they did.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Jessica asked through the commlink. "This is risky, even by your standards."

"It doesn't matter. The quicker we find Miles, the quicker we get out of here." Miguel muttered into his earpiece as he walked through the busy streets of Earth-42's New York.

"Yes, but blending in? For all we know, a version of us exists here."

"Which is why you need to stop talking and start looking, Jess." Miguel hissed a little too loud, earning looks from a few passerbys. He winced. Jessica had a point. If a version of them did exist in this universe, it would be best not to bring attention to themselves.

"Miguel!"

And... that was now thrown out of the window. Cursing under his breath, he turned around reluctantly to face the person who called him—only to find that it was you.

His eyes widened, and his lips parted at the sight of you. Never in a million years did he expect to see her again. But here you were, the absolute spitting image of her. Your clothes were exactly the same things she would wear, your hair and makeup done the same way.

Finding different versions of people in different universes was not uncommon. There's literally a society uniting the different universes' own Spider-people, for God's sake. But Miguel didn't expect this. He didn't expect a carbon copy of his dead wife on a universe where Spider-Man did not exist.

He should've said he wasn't Miguel, that you were mistaking him for someone else. Hell, he shouldn't have stopped and turned around in the first place. He didn't know what came over him, but in a second, he had his arms wrapped around your body.

"Miguel, hon, are you okay?" You asked, your voice laced with surprise and concern. You had no clue that the man who was hugging you was not your husband. At least, not your husband in this universe.

Miguel grunted in response, his ability to string words together to form a sentence rendered broken by your presence. He squeezed you tighter. He couldn't believe he was holding you in his arms.

You weren't the same woman he fell in love with. He knows this. But he couldn't help himself. You looked exactly like her. Felt exactly like her. Sounded exactly like her. Shit, you even smelled like her.

"Damn it, Miguel, keep it together! She's not your wife!"

Hearing Jess' voice snapped Miguel out of his stupor. Remembering his mission, why he was there in the first place, he pulled away from you. He didn't want to. He wanted to hold you longer. But he knew that if he did, he wouldn't have been able to stop.

"Honey, what's wrong?" You asked, cupping his face in your hands. God, how he missed feeling the warmth of your palms. "You're acting weird."

"I'm fine, sweetheart." He gave you a small smile, his hands wrapping around yours and his lips pressing a kiss on each of your wrists. "I just missed you, that's all."

You laughed. "What are you talking about? You saw me this morning."

Miguel could only chuckle in an attempt to hide his sadness. What was only hours for you was months for him. "Right. I did."

"Are you sure you're okay, though?" You asked again, eyebrows furrowing and the corners of your lips downturned.

"Don't worry about it, darling. I am."

He wasn't. But you didn't need to know that. You didn't need to know that in another universe, the two of you were married. You didn't need to know that you had a daughter together. You didn't need to know that he loved you and your daughter more than life itself, only for him to lose you both.

"Listen, I have to go. I'm having lunch with a friend. But I'll see you later at Doctor Nguyen's, okay?" You placed your hands on your stomach, a smile forming on your face. "I can't wait to see her again."

Miguel swallowed the lump in his throat before forcing himself to smile. Only now he noticed the bump on your stomach, carrying a different Miguel's Gabriella. "Yeah, me too."

With a kiss goodbye on his cheek, you walked away, blissfully unaware that he was not your Miguel. He watched as you disappeared around the corner, knowing it was the first and last time he was ever going to see you again.

But that didn't matter. He'll find Miles. He'll make sure the canon isn't destroyed. He'll make sure another version of himself wouldn't have to suffer the loss of his family the same way he did. He'll make sure you and your kid were safe.

[wheneverfeasible]

Continuation “fix it” of this ficlet where Steve changed himself to try to earn Eddie’s love.

Steve missed his polos.

He missed his light wash jeans, his music, watching his favorite movies, he even missed his stupid plaid walls.

Eddie had laughed at them the first time he’d been in Steve’s room, back before they’d even started dating. Technically they were still there, they were just covered up with posters of bands Steve only knew about because his boyfriend liked them. Eddie had teasingly gifted him a Black Sabbath one back when they had just been friends to give his room more “personality” instead of his mostly undecorated room, which…okay, fair, because Steve had admittedly not done much of it himself just because he couldn’t be bothered.

(And he did, actually, kind of like the poster because it was their own little inside joke. It made him smile when he saw it, even to this day, even if he thought he could still taste the damned demobat sometimes.)

It wasn’t like he really knew much of who he was to begin with. He still had the bowling pin he and Tommy had stolen from the bowling lane their sophomore year (Steve’s idea, though only to impress his friend), and the picture of the car he had bought on a whim because Tommy had said he wanted a car just like it. Any other knickknack had either been gifted or purchased for a similar intent.

Now, that car picture was collecting dust in his closet, replaced by the Black Sabbath poster that Eddie had pinned to the wall slightly askew for ‘aesthetics,’ though it being slightly off-center and at an angle made Steve a little itchy. Soon, however, other posters soon followed, some given to him by Eddie and some he purchased himself after learning what bands Eddie liked, with a large Dio one taking up space by his bed.

Flyers of Corroded Coffin shows or other band merch dotted around the room as well, which he didn’t really mind because he liked supporting his boyfriend, though the clutter and disorganization slightly bothered him. Eddie had grinned at the sight however and called him a ‘real boy now’ for looking like the room of a young man and not a ‘30-something corporate stooge,’ so that would have to be fine too.

But he still missed his room looking like his room, instead of a replica of Eddie’s. It made Eddie feel more comfortable however, so he tried not to think about how it wasn’t his aesthetic at all, because he could learn to like it. He could change for the better. He could be what Eddie wanted. He could be good enough.

Which was why he was confused, staring at the garment box on the kitchen table where he’d been circling car ads in the classifieds, trying to find something cooler than his bimmer. Eddie had come over with a wide grin, sliding a box he recognized from one of the department stores he used to shop at before dating Eddie.

Eddie had proffered it with a flourish, grinning expectantly, practically vibrating with anticipation as Steve had carefully lifted the lid and moved the tissue paper aside to reveal the piece of clothing inside. A polo shirt in a soft, buttery sort of yellow with thick vertical white stripes running vertical over it.

Steve looked up at Eddie with a furrowed brow. “I…you got me a polo?” he questioned, confused and also concerned, knowing the department store was definitely outside of Eddie’s usual price range.

“Yeah!” Eddie confirmed happily, moving to sit in the chair next to Steve, looking down at the soft material Steve had yet to pull from the box. “The check from the gig came through, and I remember you looking at this shirt a couple weeks ago. I’ve been waiting to be buy it ever since.”

Steve blinked at that. He hadn’t known Eddie had caught him admiring the shirt in the window while he and Eddie had been walking around downtown. He felt a flair of panic at the thought, annoyed at himself for slipping up, for reminding Eddie that he was a stupid preppy rich kid. Eddie didn’t look upset though, or at least…he hadn’t. Now his eyes were darting over Steve’s expression with growing worry, chewing on his lower lip.

“Is that…is that all right? Was it a different one you wanted? I-I still have the receipt, we can return it and get the one you wanted,” Eddie rushed to say.

“No,” Steve quickly said, his fingers of one hand tightening slightly on the box while his other reached out of their own accord to slightly touch the shirt within. “I…Eddie,” he breathed, not knowing what else to say, what this meant. Why would Eddie buy him something like this? “You shouldn’t waste your hard earned money on…something like this.” Shouldn’t waste your money on me, he wanted to say. “It’s your first paying gig.”

Eddie shook his head quickly, an almost embarrassed smile curling his lips with a slight blush. “I wanted to, Stevie. You always buy me things, I wanted to return the favor. You’ve been so supportive of me and I wanted to…I don’t know. Thank you.” He glanced down at the polo with a soft expression, though he did frown a little too afterwards. “I haven’t seen you wear your polos in a really long time,” he murmured quietly.

Steve tensed at Eddie’s words. Of course he hadn’t. Polos weren’t cool. Polos weren’t good enough for Eddie. It was why he was so confused at this gift. He didn’t understand why Eddie would buy him something that wasn’t metal. That wasn’t suitable for his boyfriend.

“I know that you’re experimenting with your style and all, and I won’t deny you’re hot as fuck in these,” Eddie grinned, moving to pinch the loose sleeve of Steve’s tee between his fingers. It was from some band he didn’t actually know before he’d bought the shirt, something called Leatherwolf, though he had bought their tape as well so that he could pretend to be a fan and know some of their songs. “But you look hot in your polos too. I miss them.”

Steve sat up straighter at that, his eyebrows flying up in surprise. Eddie…liked his polos? “Aren’t the polos…kind of lame?” he asked carefully.

Eddie snorted, smiling as he leaned in to press a kiss to Steve’s neck, causing a startled smile to erupt over Steve’s own lips as he squirmed at the slight tickle of Eddie’s lips and hair. “There’s nothing lame about you, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, voice roughened with his tease. He pulled back though, a touch of his worry on his expression again. “Do you like it?”

Of course Steve liked it. He loved it. It was exactly the one he had been looking at before, even though he’d tried to hide it, which meant that Eddie really had noticed it and really had been waiting to buy it for him. With his first paycheck from Corroded Coffin’s first real paying gig.

There had been the fear that Eddie’s involvement with the band would limit their options, that no one would want to listen to a band that had a member who was suspected of grisly murders. Eddie had been prepared to step down, to let the others move on without him, had offered it even though Jeff and the others had vehemently opposed the idea. They’d said that Corroded Coffin wouldn’t exist without Eddie and if he wasn’t part of it then they didn’t want to do it anymore.

In a surprise twist that probably shouldn’t have been all that surprising, Eddie’s infamy had actually helped the band. The news of his believed guilt and then later innocence and injury from the actual killer that he had tried to stop had spread even beyond Hawkins, drawing a crowd for their nights performing at The Hideout who began to see more patrons than ever before.

Then they’d been invited to participate in a Battle of the Bands, which they hadn’t won but they’d placed second, and the random shows they’d throw themselves at the quarry or wherever else saw larger crowds than usual, even the one they threw to celebrate Gareth graduating, and they’d even been asked to play at the fair, though it was a free gig.

Then, most recently, someone had approached them after one of their shows and asked to hire them for an event in Indianapolis. A paying event in Indianapolis. With it was the promise of possible future paying gigs as their fanbase grew and spread. There was even talk of a possible scout being at the gig.

Dustin had joked that maybe ‘86 hadn’t been his year, but ‘88 could be, though Eddie had just grinned and denied it, saying that ‘86 had been his year after all. He hadn’t said why, but he gave Steve a secretive smile and reached out to tangle their fingers together.

Steve felt a flare of warmth beneath his skin as he stared down at the polo again, hesitating before giving a brief nod. Eddie’s previously nervous smile bloomed into a joyous one, and he leaned in quickly to plant a smacking kiss to Steve’s cheek. Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t prevent his own smile from growing on his lips.

“Thank you, baby,” Steve murmured, sliding a hand over Eddie’s neck to draw him in for a slow kiss. He didn’t know what it meant still, Eddie buying him a polo of all things, but it made him more determined than ever to be good enough for his boyfriend.

When they pulled back, Eddie soft with happiness, Steve made the decision. He needed to go all in if he was to keep Eddie happy. He drew in a deep breath and moved to take Eddie’s hand, his finger lightly tracing one of the scars there.

“I was thinking of growing out my hair. Maybe even dying it. Or maybe shaving i—”

“Don’t you dare!” Eddie interrupted, expression and tone absolutely scandalized as he squeezed Steve’s hand. Steve jumped slightly at the sudden explosion, blinking wide eyes at Eddie, causing the other to flush slightly in embarrassment. “I mean. You can, obviously, if you really want to, it’s your hair after all, but…” Eddie let out a small whine of protest as his gaze moved up to take in Steve’s hair.

Steve self-consciously reached up with his free hand to pass his fingers through his hair, which wasn’t quite as voluminous as he used to style it, but was still the last real testament of his former style. His former personality. The bullshit one.

“I mean,” Steve hedged, glancing away with a small roll of a shoulder in an aborted shrug. “It’s not exactly metal is it?” He looked back at Eddie with a slightly strained smile, rolling his eyes as though in commiseration. “I don’t want to embarrass you by making people think you have a prep for a boyfriend,” he laughed.

Eddie’s expression changed immediately as he stilled almost unnaturally, falling into a blank neutrality, even his eyes shuttering as he slowly pulled his hand from Steve’s grip. The response caused Steve to start panicking, worrying he’d messed up in some way, that he reminded Eddie of all the ways that he was lacking.

Steve opened his mouth to start apologizing, ready to apologize for anything, but Eddie held up his hand palm out to stop him, causing Steve’s mouth to shut with a soft click of teeth.

Eddie’s gaze dropped from Steve as his brows slowly began to furrow, a calculating expression settling over him as his eyes fell to the soft yellow polo still in the box. His lips twisted into a frown. After several excruciating moments, his eyes moved towards Steve’s shirt, an even more pinched look settling over his expression.

“Who are you wearing?” Eddie asked, his voice low and slow.

Steve glanced down at his shirt, the panic in him spiking, before realizing that this was a test. He had to prove to Eddie that he could like metal too (he didn’t, not really, though he could appreciate some of it) and wouldn’t be an embarrassment. He could do this.

“Leatherwolf,” he answered, thankful that he had done his job well enough to answer this pop quiz. He straightened his spine and pulled up the information he memorized with a slightly relieved smile. He could do this. “They’re from California. They were founded in, um, 1981.”

“What’s your favorite song of theirs?” Eddie asked, and there was something slightly off in his tone, but Steve couldn’t place it, not when he was frantically trying to recall the titles of the songs he’d made himself remember.

“Um. Cry Out?” he hesitantly asked more than answered, which caused Eddie’s lips to press into a thin line. He felt his breath catch at the obvious displeasure on Eddie’s face, wondering if he’d answered wrong. Was that a bad song? “O-or no, um, not that one. Uh. I like…um. I like…Magic Eye?” Fuck no, that wasn’t right. “Magical Eyes, I mean,” he corrected himself hastily.

Eddie’s eyes slowly dragged over Steve, his lips compressing again into a thin line as he drew in his own deep breath through flared nostrils. “Fuck,” he muttered, obviously not meant for Steve but it caused Steve to panic anyways as Eddie looked away, his brow furrowing in thought as his gaze settled on the newspaper on the table and the circled ads there.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, though he wasn’t certain what he had done wrong this time. Maybe Eddie didn’t like that band?

“Steve…” Eddie heaved a heavy sigh, rubbing his hand over his face before he looked over at Steve again. “I had thought you were just…trying things out. Experimenting. Lord knows your folks never let you be your own person,” he muttered before waving a hand as though to swat that thought away. “I didn’t realize you were actually trying to change.”

Why did Eddie sound so appalled by that? Wasn’t that a good thing? He was willing to fundamentally change who he was just for Eddie, to become someone deserving of Eddie, who fit in Eddie’s life. Didn’t Eddie want Steve in his life?

“Why are you upset about me changing?” Steve huffed, his worry turning into annoyance in his tone. “I thought that was a good thing. Not being the douchebag I used to be.” He scowled, crossing his arms with a roll of his eyes to cover his unease.

Eddie just looked at him in that way that made it seem like he was seeing inside Steve, which normally Steve liked because no one ever actually saw him, but now it just made him uncomfortable. Like he had done something wrong. He was just trying to be a good boyfriend, however. Besides, it’s not like he had come up with the plan on his own.

Everyone always talked about how different he and Eddie were. Always pointed out how preppy he was, made fun of Eddie for falling for a jock, had even asked at the start when they first came out publicly to their friends who was blackmailing whom into the relationship. Steve knew he had to change. They were too fundamentally different. It was the only way to keep Eddie.

Except Eddie didn’t look like he was going to be kept. He had started slowly shaking his head, pulling back, his eyes skittering over Steve again but in a way that said he wasn’t liking what he was saying. Steve’s panic spiked again.

“Eddie. This is good. I’m willing to change for you, that’s how much I love you,” Steve breathed, reaching out to grab Eddie’s hand with desperation. “I listen to your music now, and I play Dungeons and Dragons, and I don’t even talk about basketball around you anymore. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Don’t you see? Isn’t that all that matters?”

Eddie’s lips turned down into a sharp frown. A shuddering breath left him before he all but yanked his hand from Steve’s, his dark eyes turning even darker as he pulled away from Steve and said those damning words:

“But I’m not happy, Steve.”

Steve felt all the air leave his lungs, felt all the blood first rush to his head and then drain out of him, felt his mouth and tongue and throat shrivel into dryness as his eyes widened in horror. Eddie was shaking his head, stumbling out of his chair and back, an unreadable expression on his face as he distanced himself from Steve and this revelation.

“This wasn’t what I wanted, Steve. This doesn’t make me happy.” Eddie’s took another step back when Steve stumbled from his own chair, putting the table between them. “I…I need to go. I need to think.”

Steve knew with certainty that if he let Eddie leave now, that this thing between them would never be the same. His heart clenched in his chest painfully, and he felt his eyes sting with encroaching tears. “Eddie, please…” he begged, his words cracking.

Eddie only shook his head, sending his hair arcing around him, before straightening his spine. “This isn’t you. I don’t want this to be you. I love you Steve, but this version of you? The one that I created—” This time it was Eddie’s voice that cracked.

Clearing his throat, Eddie backed away. “No. No, this isn’t what I wanted. I’m sorry, Steve, but I need to go. I need to think. I can’t be here right now. I’m sorry.”

And with that, Eddie spun on his heels and all but ran towards the door, escaping from Steve’s incompetence, his unworthiness, his undesirability while Steve could only stand there in frozen horror, the tears he couldn’t hold back any longer slowly dripping down his cheeks.

Because he knew. He knew this would happen. He knew that no matter what he did, he would never be good enough. He knew that Eddie would leave him one day. Knew that he would never be able to keep the one he loved.

Knew that he, like his love, would always be complete and utter bullshit.

-

Part 3

-

tag list: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

[starkeyisthelastname]

can you plzzzz write more pornstar!rafe i love him !!

pornstar!rafe is a different breed of dirty 😿

Pornstar!Rafe who had no idea what he was doing at the door of your apartment a few weeks after the scene you had shot together. He had fucked a lot of women, on and off camera. Never did he once go back for seconds, he just wasn’t that type of man. Maybe it was perverted of him to pay your agent to give him your address, but nonetheless it worked for him as he knew it would. He kept thinking about you, and he didn’t know why. Sure he fucked a lot of pretty girls, but something about you made him want more.

You looked up in surprise when you heard a late-night knock on the door, wondering who could be visiting at such an hour. Due to your line of work, you didn't have many friends or family, so unexpected visitors were a rarity. Slowly getting up, you made your way to the door and looked out the peephole. “Rafe?” You whispered to yourself, feeling your stomach drop. How did he know where you lived? What was he doing here? It made you nervous but in such a curious way.

As you opened your door, you immediately noticed his towering figure. His piercing blue eyes met yours, drawing you in. It had slipped your mind just how imposing his height was, even when dressed casually. A baseball cap concealed his messy blonde mullet, while a simple t-shirt and loose-fitting jeans accentuated his broad physique. You saw the familiar smirk come to his face, making your pussy flutter and forget any concerns you had on why he was there in the first place.

“Keep your fuckin legs up.” Rafe spat, a head full of dirty blonde hair in between your spread thighs as he ate your pussy like a starved dirty man.

It had been all of 15 minutes and this man already had you on the brink of an orgasm by just his tongue. The way his head moved back and forth, smearing your sweet and sticky juices across his thick mustache, had you gasping while you tried to hold your legs back. Your body was becoming limp though, his pert nose rubbing against your swollen clit as his tongue rapidly licked through your soaked folds.

One hand that was hooked on the underside of your thigh, fell as your stomach tightened and eyes started rolling back. You felt two thick digits slide into your creamy hole, pushing themselves to hit your G-spot. “O-oh fuck…Rafe.” You mumbled, eyebrows squeezing together as your eyes came back to watch him.

“Greedy fuckin hole likes gettin' finger fucked, huh?” His words were dirty, only making you clench around them as he shot you that cocky smirk.

You nodded, mouth falling open as he drilled them in and out of your leaking cunt with brutal force. You wondered if he would be just as nasty off camera, but never thought you'd see him again unless you filmed another scene together. (At least you were hoping you two would.) He was proving to you that his porn acting was who he was as a person, and he was just as filthy as he was on camera.

That smirk faded as you refused to answer him, his blue eyes darkening into something a little more sinister. Abruptly pulling his fingers out, he shoved them inside your open mouth, pushing them deep until you gagged. His other hand came to your poor pussy, slapping it roughly as you squealed around his digits at the hard smack. It wasn't until he shoved three fingers in without warning that you realized he was not playing.

“Not a big fan of repeating myself. Yeah, slut? So I suggest you answer my fuckin question.” His voice low as he stood up to lean over you. He removed his fingers from your mouth, wrapping a hand around your throat to squeeze.

His left hand moved inside you at a rapid pace, repeatedly bruising your sweet spot as he choked a reply out of you. This man was on a whole other type of level, and you knew you couldn’t hold back any longer. “Please… k-keep fingering me. D-don’t stop. Gonna cum so hard.” Your voice strained as he applied pressure against your neck.

You could feel your eyes rolling back again, head spinning and cunt pulsing as one more push of his fingers did your climax hit. In the porn industry, you weren’t known for being a squirter. There you were though, letting a fountain of clear liquid spray both of your bodies as you completely let go.

You barely had time to recover, before you were flipped over with ease, thick cock cramming itself in your sopping cunt as he yanked your hair back. “You better fuckin start listening to me. I don’t ever fuck a girl twice, even on camera. Feel lucky I wanna make you my own personal whore.” He rasped in your ear, the butterflies hitting your tummy at the thought of having this deranged man in your guts over and over again.

[kitkatscabinet]

Don't feed him he'll come back (3)

Simon riley x neighbour reader

summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment block is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: making out, alcohol consumption.

Part 1 here, Part 2 here.

You start the next day riding the high of the previous night. You feel ridiculous, you’ve had relationships before, had been in love before, but the butterflies that stir in your gut whenever you so much as think of Simon put anything you’ve ever felt to shame.

It’s a little pathetic, you haven’t even kissed him. Not to mention you’ve no idea how he even feels about you. Simon’s an incredibly difficult man to read, where you wore your heart on your sleeve, Simon kept his cards incredibly close to his chest. You knew he at least held some affection for you, otherwise he’d never tolerate you dragging him from his apartment into yours. Something that feels dangerously like hope swells in your chest when you remember how tenderly he’d tucked you in and you desperately tried to stamp it out.   

Casting your mind back, you attempt to pinpoint exactly where along the path you’d fallen so thoroughly and irrevocably in love with the mysterious neighbour that scared the shit out of so many tenants. Was it when you’d first seen his face? 

No that wasn’t it, although, Simon was one of the most stunning men you’d ever seen. You’d been speechless when he’d revealed his face, something you’d been teased for relentlessly, his cocky smirk appearing in the subject of your dreams. 

It had to have been before that though, because even if Simon was the ugliest man alive, you’d still love him. 

Perhaps it had been when he’d first sat down across from you at the small kitchen counter, large bulk and dark clothing incredibly out of place against the backdrop of your colourful and plushie-filled apartment. It was the first time you’d ever seen him nervous, or rather the first time you could tell he was. But for all that he initially seemed out of place, seeing him in the sanctity of your home made your heart sing with affection. 

(Though a part of you acknowledges that your heart has belonged to Simon Riley from the moment he laughed at one of your stupid jokes, it just took a while for your brain to catch up to what your heart already knew.)

You’d never meant to fall in love with the neighbour who’d reeked of loneliness, loneliness that you’d unfortunately recognised and silently vowed to do your best to alleviate. You’d never intended for your feelings to bloom and grow into a garden that now centred around Simon Riley.  

But they had. They had and no matter what you did you knew they weren’t likely to be stomped out any time soon. 

Knocking on his door that night you try to douse the disappointment that fills you when he doesn’t answer. It wasn’t often that Simon was called away so abruptly that he didn’t even have time to let you know but it still happened occasionally. Sending him a swift text you wish him a safe deployment and sign it off with a new joke you think he’d appreciate. 

The days pass much the same. You wake, think about Simon, send him a text and continue about your day. Although you're used to the radio silence it’s like the acknowledgement of your feelings makes the worry and restlessness ten times worse. 

When the three-month mark hits with no indication that Simon has even seen your texts, your worry starts to turn into an all-encompassing panic. More than once you’d been so distracted that you’d made a mistake at work, earning the concern of your coworkers and friends as you were unusually out of it. 

You want to reassure him but you can’t even reassure yourself. What if he was dead? Would you ever even find out? You weren’t family, there would be no obligation to let you, a random stranger, know. Is this how you were doomed to spend the rest of your life, wondering what had happened to your beloved Simon?

Another two months pass and you’re nothing short of a nervous wreck, your dreams and waking thoughts filled with awful scenarios of Simon being tortured, dying or dead. You can’t sleep, can’t even bring yourself to cook, because it reminds you so painfully of him. 

The perpetual state of simply not knowing starts to become too much to bear and you’re on the brink of doing something truly desperate when you run into your landlord. You’re on good terms but he’d not exactly someone you’d ever gone out of your way to speak to. Now, however, you were practically tripping over yourself to catch his attention, not even bothering with small talk. “Have you heard anything from Simon?”

The man’s confusion is palpable and it takes a few minutes of stilted and baffled conversation before he discerns who you’re asking after. “Ah, the man with the mask,” he gestured towards his face, “he terminated his lease a few weeks ago, odd really, still had half a year left.” The conversation may have continued for a little longer but you didn’t hear, your responses filtering through on autopilot. 

The soft material of your quilt against the bare skin of your arms, signifying your return to the safety of your bed, is what finally snaps you from your dazed stupor. All of the frantic worry, concern, fear morphing into an apoplectic level of sheer fury. Because Simon was apparently fine. Not only was he fucking fine, he was doing the one thing you’d never thought him possible of, ignoring you. 

He was fucking ghosting you. 

They say there are five stages of grief. You’ve completely skipped over denial and are stuck on anger, bargaining and acceptance won’t happen and you refuse to let yourself be depressed. Thus, anger it is, and boy is there months of pent-up rage. 

Work becomes central to your life, the only thing stopping you from completely crashing and burning, Icarus falling from grace, punishment for falling too hard and too fast for what was unattainable. 

You work yourself to the bone just so you can sleep at night without the visage of brown eyes and soft ashy curls infringing on the corners of your consciousness. It’s not sustainable, you know it, your friends know it and your boss knows it. You must look destroyed too because you don’t think your boss has ever encouraged someone to take a break in her entire history working for the company. 

It only takes one day of rest before the anger-fueled agitation thrumming through your veins has you pacing relentlessly, your nails are chewed down to stubs and you think you may actually hurt someone if you don’t do something. It’s a bit of a Hail Mary, you know, but you still let out a scream of irritation when none of your friends are free to get blind on a weekday for an impromptu night out. Still, it’s a minor setback and one that your agitation-fueled self won’t be put off by. 

Your room is a mess, clothes strewn out all over your bed and floor as you try to find the sluttiest thing you own. Bingbong meows discontentedly as you shove him off a pile of your tops and you simply scowl at the little fat fuck that usually brought you so much joy. However, you do give him goodbye kisses when you finally amble out of your front door and call an Uber.

To your dismay, the man driving you is chatty, even when you give short, terse answers that could not be more clearly a screaming invitation to leave you the fuck alone. He throws you hungry looks in the rearview mirror that makes you want to pull your skin off. You may have dressed to get attention but not from this kind of creep. The car barely rolls to a stop before you jump out, booking it double time to get yourself double parked with some drinks. 

You’ve sequestered yourself at the edge of the bar counter, away from the crowd but still close enough to call for drinks on demand. It’s about five drinks in, sculled far too fast for you to keep up properly when you sense a man slide into the seat next to you. Dark hair, blue eyes, devilish grin and when he opens his mouth a delicious Scottish accent flows out. The complete opposite of Simon. 

Perfect. 

“Buy you a drink?” You were never one to turn down free drinks, especially not from handsome men, not even when your heart still screamed for Simon. Firmly pushing down all thoughts of puppy brown eyes you flash your own version of a flirty smirk, turning to face the man so your knees brush his. 

The conversation flows so naturally that for those few moments suspended in time, you really do forget about Simon. It’s clear that both of you are simply searching for some carnal relief and that knowledge helps you to release your last few inhibitions. Just when you contemplate sliding off the stool and leading him away to a dark corner to have your way he slips up and mentions his team. 

“Team?” You croak, a mixture of disbelief and dread building. 

“Aye, me taskforce. Am in the military.” He must see the way the corners of your mouth are now downturned, your left eye twitching slightly as your mind once again flits toward the blond man who had stolen and then shattered your heart. “Bad experience with a military lad?” There’s no hostility in his tone, just genuine intrigue and you allow yourself to relax once more, focusing intently on his baby blues. 

“Two actually” you snort exasperatedly, chest panging a little at the thought of your deceased brother. Swallowing, you regained your nerve, stepping between his spread legs and loosely swung your arms around his neck. “Best not make it a third yeah?” you whispered against his lips, liquid confidence flowing in your veins after far too many cocktails. 

A moan reverberates in your chest, caught by Johnny’s, he’d told you to call him Johnny, tongue as his warm hands pulled you to sit on one of his thighs. The muscled flesh grinding upwards and causing you to yelp, your hands grabbing onto his shoulders to stabilise yourself. Somewhere the logical part of your mind, the part dulled dangerously by spirits, is screaming that you’re still very much in public but the heartbroken and horny part wins out as you continue to make out with the Scottish stranger built like a god. 

His mouth attaches itself to your neck and your eyelids flutter shut as your hands move to tangle in his hair, tugging harshly to ground yourself from the onslaught of sensations Johnny’s providing your pent-up body with. 

Just as one of his palms slips below your shirt you’re suddenly being ripped off the man with a surprising gentleness that you don’t have much time to ponder on before you’re shrieking as you watch Johnny get punched in the jaw. 

The alcohol has thoroughly distorted your vision and the dim lighting doesn’t help but the fire in your veins is doused with icy despair as you quickly recognise the large bulk of the man who’d just laid out poor Johnny. The tattoos covering his arm and that goddamn skull mask were simply unmistakable. 

“Simon!” Your shrill voice is joined by Johnny’s own pained and confused groan as all three of you struggle to assess what’s just happened. 

“Wait, Johnny?” Simon sounded equally as confused, though his chest was still heaving in… anger?

“You know each other?” You cross your arms defensively, drunk brain trying to catch up on the turn of events. You refuse to look at Simon, instead staring at Johnny as he pulls himself up and you wait for an explanation. 

“Teammates” Johnny spits out a little blood and you can’t help the somewhat hysterical laugh that bubbles forth. 

Teammates. 

What were the fucking odds? Of all the attractive men and women frequenting this specific bar you almost shack up with one of Simon’s presumably closest friends. The evil vindictive part of you screams to go through with it anyway, though given Johnny’s sudden wariness and dawning horror as he connects some sort of mental dots you doubt that would be happening. 

Huffing, you turned from the two men and gathered your belongings as quickly as possible, hoping to make a hasty escape in the confusion. Hoping to escape before Simon could see you cry. 

Whatever deities existed seemingly weren’t on board with your plans and your attempt to skirt around Simon is instantly thwarted as he firmly but gently grabs your bicep. 

“Let me go,” you curse the way your voice wavers traitorously even through gritted teeth and you wince when you realise you can’t even bring yourself to say your name. Simon remains silent and if anything his grip even tightens a little, as if he were afraid you would slip through his fingers into nothingness. Incredibly audacious of him considering what he’d put you through these last few months. 

“Simon lad, I’m sorry, I dinnae ken they were-” Simon cuts off Johnny’s apology with a wave and curt nod that’s very clearly dismissive. Johnny, the traitorous bastard that he is, simply smiles, bids you farewell and then leaves you to deal with the brute that broke your heart. 

Stubbornly you refuse to face him, even when his gruff voice begs you multiple times. Evidently, Simon gets tired of your refusal and forces your eyes to focus on his with a forceful, guiding hand on your chin. Equal parts dismay, arousal and anger wage war in your body at the action and you bite the inside of your cheek so hard you taste the metallic rust of blood. 

The silence is damning and though his grip loosens it remains cupping your chin and sliding up to caress your cheek. He’s wearing that stupid skull balaclava and as such you can only see his eyes. Those godforsaken pools of weariness and tenderness that threaten to pull you in until you drown in them. His thumb gently caresses your lip, still swollen from Johnny’s machinations and you force yourself to speak, to display your hurt before he somehow worms his way back into your good graces. 

“What? What could you possibly want from me Simon? Haven’t you done enough?” There’s a vulnerability, a defeatedness in your voice that you hadn't meant to let slip but the man catches it, you know he does. Because though you hate to admit it, at this point, even after months apart, you think Simon might know you better than you know yourself. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s a pathetic notion and when he doesn’t elaborate it causes you to finally wrench away. You barely make it over the threshold of the exit when suddenly Simon is there once more, crowding into your space with the desperation of a man starved. His arms wrap around you like a vice, trapping your back against his chest. 

“Please.” His voice is a hoarse whisper carried away by the wind, just for your ears. “Please, I know I fucked up, please just let me explain.” His body shakes a little against you and you stand there in the cool night air fighting an internal battle. Simon Riley hurt you. 

Hurt you far greater than any man or woman had ever managed. 

And yet. And yet. 

You still loved him so much it burned. 

“Ok.” Your voice is croaky, reedlike and thin as your mouth moves without your brain’s permission. 

“Ok?” Simon’s head darts up from where it had been resting against you, voice watery and full of childlike hope that you find yourself nodding. 

“Ok. But you only get one chance.” Simon all but goes boneless against you, apologies and thanks spilling past his lips like wildfire but you interrupt him before he could go too far. “Not here, my apartment,” you don’t particularly want him in your space, but you can’t do this in public either, “until then just… don’t speak.” Your voice cracks towards the end but neither of you acknowledges it, standing in strained silence as you wait for your ride home. 

Simon’s eyes burn holes in the side of your head but once again you refuse to look at him, staring out the window into the darkness of the cityscape as you try to mentally prepare for what’s about to come.

Tags: @innercollectivecomputer @cooliofango @pertinentpostmortem @ghostslillady @domaniquessidehoe2 @ilovehyperfixating @pauphs @skotchi @bunnyreaper @tokusho @ohworm-writes @penismonkey @daisychainsinknots @taman-a @guess-whos-now-a-mood @leclercdream @justarandommom @iwannabealocalcryptid @dd122004dd @actuallyhiswife @alexisv15 @perfectus-in-morte @waves-against-a-cliff @fog-sama @juvenillia

[delirious-donna]

The Temporary Assistant [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: I’ve been obsessed with the exhausted lawyer for some time now, but this is the first time I’ve written a fic for him… please be kind cause I baby.

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: NSFW, pwp, established relationship, reader is assumed to be a little bit on the booby side, pseudo boss/subordinate dynamic, spit as lube (don’t do this folks), Higuruma is a breasts man, nipple play, little prep, cumshot

Masterlist

“She quit. What do you mean, she quit?”

Higuruma massaged his tired eyes in steady circles, huffing out a laugh at your exasperated questioning and the equally perplexed look on your face.

“Darling, I don’t know how else to phrase it other than the young lady no longer works for me,” he offered with fatigue lacing his tone. It was late, and he didn’t want to be having this conversation for the third time today. The first had been with his partner at the law firm they jointly owned, and the second with the agency supervisor his previously employed assistant worked for.

Nanami hadn’t been surprised at the news, a fact that bothered Hiromi more than he cared to admit. His partner was not one for pulling his punches, so Hiromi was accustomed to his sometimes blunt manner of speaking, but it still hurt to think that Kento had seen something coming that he had been blindsided by.

“I’m only surprised she lasted this long.” Those were his parting words as Hiromi stalked dejectedly back to his office at Nanami’s insistence that his assistant would be far too busy to spread her attention to them both. Not words he’d been happy to hear.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr Higuruma. That’s not like her, but I’m afraid it’ll be at least two weeks until I can provide a replacement.” The agency supervisor sounded genuinely shocked at the sudden resignation, and his day simply went from bad to worse.

Hiromi flopped onto the couch, his head lolling back with his eyes sliding shut from the weight of his fatigue. It had been mounting all day, and now that he was home, where he should be finding solace in the comfort of his surroundings and his loving wife’s embrace, he was hit suddenly with a fresh reminder of the shit he’d landed in.

A soft hand caressed the side of his neck, inducing a shiver of relief. It was followed by the weight of your body settling over his spread thighs, your head resting against his shoulder. His suit jacket still hung from his lithe frame, the button undone and the shirt beneath badly wrinkled from the long commute home, but you didn’t care about his untidiness. 

He felt every quiet exhale fan his throat, the ghost of a smile finding its way to his face despite it all. Your nimble fingers burrowed into the knot of his tie, loosening it until you could pull it free and toss it away. “What are you going to do, Hiromi? I know you have that court date coming up… it’s a busy time. How about Nanami’s assistant?”

“Not an option. I already tried,” he muttered with a shrug. 

Opening his eyes, he peered down at you tucked into the crook of his neck, a hand inside the collar of his shirt and your nails grazing gentle patterns over his collarbone. He chewed his lip, fearful to broach the idea planted by his partner when his foot was almost out the door. “You could always ask your wife…”

Selfishly, he indulged himself in your affections, your scent that permeated every corner of the home you shared and let his fingers, stiff from the cold, warm against your feminine curves. You might not be so keen to indulge him once he suggested you work as his temporary assistant, so he would take what he could until push came to shove.

“Your fingers are icy, Hiro. Come here,” you chided with a click of the tongue, though he knew it was only born of concern for his health. Hiromi hummed happily, grateful when you pressed his palms together with yours on either side and blew hot air to dispel the chill.

“What would I do without you?” He whispered, sitting upright and nudging your nose with his when you glanced at him. Hiromi’s eyes drooped, heat dusted his cheeks at the proximity, and when you let out an airy giggle… he swore he swooned all over again. Just as he had when he first met you and fell in love.

He doubted he would be in the position he was today had it not been for you. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he would be here at all if he hadn’t met you when he did, but that was a story for another day.

You admired the side profile of your husband, eyes low and hazy with appreciation of his strong jaw and prominent nose that hooked just so at the end. “Good thing you’ll never have to know.”

Hiromi groaned aloud, burying his face between the soft skin of your décolleté. His cool lips skimmed the tops of your breasts, first on one side then turning to the other, making you shudder and hum. Your fingers threaded through his black hair, tugging firmly at the roots just how he liked, and his hips jerked in response.

A great fuck and a good night’s sleep would fix him, you were certain of it. It wouldn’t resolve his work issue, but Hiromi worked better with a clear mind, and you knew it was murky as bog water right now. Your man was a brilliant lawyer, dedicated to working towards a more just legal system for those normally underrepresented along with his partner, but he was a terrible workaholic.

You couldn’t count the nights he traipsed home from the office at an ungodly hour only to drag his tired body into his home office to continue where he left off. Only coming to bed when you physically dragged him away from his keyboard and desk with threats of pain and not the kind he typically enjoyed.

It couldn’t be easy to be his assistant, though you knew damn well that he was a good man. The poor girl probably had enough of the endless expectations and incessantly long hours which were necessary to get through all of his demands because he refused to finish at five like normal people. On the few occasions you’d stopped by his office, you could see the fraught expression written all over her young face and how her eyes pleaded with you to distract her boss enough so she could catch up with the mountain of requests waiting for her attention. Poor girl…

Ready to go to town on your poor overworked and stressed husband, you rocked your pelvis against the seam of his zipper, pushing his head further into your chest whilst his cock twitched and hardened beneath you. Hiromi practically purred, the sound muffled and vibrated right down into your soul. The possibilities were endless, and you were considering if you should slide to the floor and bathe his cock in your spit or ride him until all that wicked tension left his body when he suddenly paused.

His hands moved to your waist, the pressure firmer than expected and he gently slid you back along his knees so you were no longer planted over his poorly concealed erection. The flicker of guilt burnt in his whisky-smoked eyes, and it soured your smile. Hiromi shook his head and exhaled deeply, his eyes flitting away from yours.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered.

“You… can’t fuck your wife?” Your voice broke into a laugh that had nothing to do with amusement and everything to do with the bitter twist of uncertainty in your stomach. “Since when?”

“Don’t say that. I want to, but I need to ask you something first.” Hiromi cupped your face in his hands, leaning in to press what he hoped were reassuring kisses to your forehead, cheeks and lips. “Then you can decide if you still wanna… y’know.”

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion forming like a snake ready to strike, and your arms folded tightly across your chest. He swallowed nervously, struggling not to ogle your beautiful breasts that he would be fully buried in by now and likely suckling on had it not been for his damned conscience. 

“Spit it out, Higuruma.”

Oh, he was in trouble.

Hiromi cleared his throat and fixed you with a beseeching look. “Will you be my assistant?” He rushed on when you visibly bristled. “It’s only for two weeks until the agency can find me a replacement and, and… it was Kento’s idea!”

“Throwing Kento under the bus isn’t going to save your hide, Mr Higuruma!” You slid sideways onto the couch, ignoring the groan of disappointment from beside you. “You know very well I am in the midst of my PhD. How could you think it would be feasible for me to come work in your office as an errand girl for a fortnight?”

“Well… I have a plan,” he said, both pointer fingers coming together as he continued to give you the best impression of those adorable dogs with the droopy eyes.

When he didn’t elaborate immediately, your eyebrows rose and you nudged his knee with yours. 

“R-right. I know you’ve been writing your paper here at home. So, I thought that maybe I could also work from home. You could help me out and continue your work in between the things I need.”

Dammit, that wasn’t quite the terrible idea you had initially anticipated. You eyed your husband from head to toe, and he desperately tugged at your folded arms until he could take your hands into his. He kissed across your knuckles, nuzzling his cheek, rough from a faint five o’clock shadow, into the back of your hands.

“Hiromi…” you warned, but he was almost too overjoyed to hear his given name once more to heed the warning in your voice.

“Two weeks. That’s all. And I promise not to ask for too much, only the absolute necessities that I can’t manage myself. Please?”

How could you deny him when he asked so sweetly and especially when you knew just how under the cosh he was with his upcoming trial? It would only interfere with your deadlines if he didn’t uphold his promises, but you chose to believe that he would. After all, Hiromi was rather keen on keeping his balls attached to his body.

“Fine, but you owe me.”

~

The first week went by without incident. It was an adjustment, to say the least, but once you found your feet and Hiromi got used to not having to leave at the arse crack of dawn, it was rather lovely to see more of your handsome husband.

Being able to sit down at the small kitchen table to eat lunch together was a daily treat, and it filled you with triumph when he would eagerly seek you out in the kitchen with his nose sniffing out whatever delicious treat you had prepared that day. Ensuring Hiromi ate during the working day was, more often than not, a struggle, with several text messages bouncing back and forth until he acquiesced–but not now.

Maybe it was the lure of stolen kisses or the giggles shared when you called him Mr Higuruma, breathlessly pressing your body into his and squealing playfully when he pawed at your backside in turn.

You’d be lying if you weren’t enjoying the pseudo roleplay of boss and subordinate. Playing pretend with a power balance that didn’t translate to your relationship outside this current scenario. There was no top or bottom, no dominant or submissive, just two people enraptured by each other. Sometimes you led, and other times he did. Your marriage was well-balanced, and you loved that about Hiromi. He wasn’t threatened by a woman that initiated, in fact, he loved it—loved you. So this new experience, where he was large and in charge at all times, was certainly thrilling, but not everything was smooth sailing. 

Hiromi was demanding, to say the least. When he was engrossed in a specific piece of work, he had a way of speaking that made you want to smack him round the head with one of his many manila folders, preferably one of the thicker ones.

No wonder his assistant had quit if he regularly spoke to her in the clipped manner you had heard on more than several occasions now. Only your intimate knowledge of the man kept your tongue in your head and your hand away from the folders. Niceties were time-consuming when he was against the clock. He didn’t mean to be cold, and you told yourself this over and over, but it still hurt, just a little.

Higuruma could get used to this. 

He idly wondered how he would feasibly make the transition back to office working once this temporary fix came to an end. He didn’t miss his morning commutes, the packed trains that felt like being crammed into sardine tins, nor the chill of the office before the heating had a chance to warm the rooms sufficiently. 

It was a treat to be able to roll out of bed and right into his desk chair. If he wanted to start at 6am, he could, though you would chastise him thoroughly if he dared to. He knew you liked your morning snuggles, and so did he. Waking slowly to your soft snores which he liked to call purrs, and soaking in the smell of your sleep-soaked skin whilst his hands roamed every inch of your softness he could reach. It made it easier to escape the clutches of sleep, knowing you were waiting for him.

However, the star attraction of the current situation was you. Never had he cast an appreciative eye over one of his assistants, not even before he met you, but you were his wife, and he couldn’t help but gawk at his sheer dumb luck. There was something altogether forbidden about the fantasies in his head which, of course, made them all the more alluring.

The first few days at home he had stayed in comfortable clothing, favouring the sweats he’d wear around the house on the weekends and his old college sweater, but quickly, he realised that this didn’t work for him. He needed the structure of his routine even if he wasn’t venturing past his front door, so the suits returned—starched collars and a black tie at his throat. As if to match his energy, you started to dress formally too, and what a treat that was.

Pencil skirts that he didn’t think he’d ever seen, blouses that nipped in your waist, pinafore dresses that swished around your thighs and most decadent of all–lace-topped stockings. 

You were driving him to distraction, and the worst of it was that he was certain you didn’t realise. It made him sound shorter than he liked, his words coming out clipped, and his pleasantries sounded cursory rather than heartfelt. You were doing your best to accommodate his needs whilst still working on your paper, and here he was, wishing to bend you over his desk to run his nose and mouth over your squidgy thighs, the meat of your backside and the seat of your underwear until it soaked through with his saliva.

By the time the second week rolled around, Higuruma was a volcano, ready and raring to erupt at the slightest breeze or incident. The lunchtime kisses were no longer satiating his desires, nor were the evenings spent worshipping at the altar of your puffy, spit-covered pussy. It wasn’t enough to scratch this very specific itch.

“I’ve made the copies you asked for, Hiromi. I’ve also updated your calendar with the pre-agenda meeting that came through from the opposing side. Was there anything else for now?”

Hiromi audibly moaned when your wrist grazed his fingers, setting down the documents in question and lingering by his side, waiting for an answer. He tugged sharply at the knot of his tie, feeling choked for air—starved of logic. 

As he glanced up at you, he paused. Your bottom lip was held fast between your teeth, eyes positively alight with playful mischief. So maybe you were more aware of the thick-as-sticky treacle tension than he gave you credit for. He fixed the cuffs of his shirt in an attempt to mask the shake of his hands, setting his pen down before leaning back in his chair. It creaked in protest, and you raised a hand to stifle a laugh. 

“Actually, there is something else, and it cannot be put off a moment longer,” he drawled with a tone that suggested he was going to dictate a letter or something equally menial. 

You were not expecting him to spin his chair towards you and yank you down by the arm into his lap. The shriek that left you was genuine, only silenced towards the end by the firm melding of warm, insistent lips. His hands were everywhere and all at once; squeezing the tops of your arms, ripping at the buttons that hid your cleavage from him and skimming beneath the tight hold of your skirt until it rucked around your hips.

There was such urgency to his movements that you struggled to catch up, but finally, you broke apart from his mouth, saliva strands webbing and breaking apart as your tongue passed through them and across your swollen lips. “Mr Higuruma! What would your wife say?” 

It was meant as a spicy joke, a nod to the little games that had been at play and the dynamic the two of you had fallen into, but you sensed immediately that it didn’t go over well. He stopped fumbling with the buttons of your blouse, half of them free from their holes and the lace of your bra now prominently on show, breasts firmly squeezed together given the constraints of the material.

“I-I would… never. I mean…” You watched the desire in his eyes shift to panic, and you shushed him with a finger over his lips. Your heart ricocheted in your chest at the sincerity, and if you believed you couldn’t love him any more than you already did, it proved untrue when you witnessed the devotion that shone in those whisky-coloured eyes.

“I know. It’s okay,” you murmured, closing the distance and trailing your lips over his jaw and up to his ear. “I like it… keep going, please?”

Oh gods, how could he have ever deserved a woman like you in his life? Hiromi whimpered, his eyebrows pinched together, and he felt that final strand of restraint snap clean in two. His lip trembled for a second before he was on you again. Hungry kisses pathed down your throat, a hand at the back of your head to keep you close and manoeuvre you exactly as he wanted.

You scrabbled at his tie, pulling it free with a whip crack until you could toss it behind you and return your focus to his shirt so you could scratch at his chest and leave red welts across his skin.

“No.” The frantic lawyer shook his head, pressing his fingertips over the fresh mark he’d sucked into your neck simply to watch you whine from the pressure of the blooming bruise. “Belt, now.”

Jumping at the ragged command that rasped from Hiromi’s throat, you complied without teasing or complaint. Working the tail of his leather belt through the buckle and sighed at the clatter of the metal when it rattled free to join his tie somewhere unseen in the room.

“Fuck… take it out, please.”

He didn’t wait for you to say anything, nor did he wait for you to pop his top button or lower his zip. He was too focused on freeing your bountiful tits and taking them into his mouth. Your eyes raised to the heavens when his hot needy tongue licked around your nipple, the lace cups shoved down to push your breast up and into his face. 

For long moments, you only watched as he laved you with his spit, lips drawn around your pert buds to elicit that deep-seated squirm of pleasure that echoed between your thighs. Hiromi lifted his gaze to your face, making sure you watched as he sandwiched your breast together with his broad palms so he could suckle both nipples at once. Your jaw slackened, your stomach sucked in, and your hips undulated atop his thighs.

It invigorated the tightness of your hold on his cock, drawing it out of his briefs followed by his heavy balls to stroke him hard and fast. He could take it, you knew that, his purpled cockhead sticky from precum that painted your fingers and palm. You paused with his foreskin pulled back, fingers ringing his base to use your other hand to tickle the seam of his balls. He jerked up with a muffled grunt, a resounding pop echoing in the study when his lips pulled free of your breasts.

“Need you, Sir. Please, want this,” you paused to squeeze his shaft in emphasis, “Inside me.”

“Little fucking temptress, you know that? Should’ve bent you over this desk days ago…” He growled against your collarbone, marking it with his teeth.

Higuruma stood abruptly. You squealed and anchored an arm around his neck, refusing to give up your possessive grab of his throbbing dick. He turned and shoved the back of his chair flush against the edge of his desk to stabilise it before dropping you into the leather seat and folding your legs back to your chest. 

His rough fingers pinched into the fat of your thighs, fiddling with the sticky bands of your lace stockings and damn near ripped them. You would have complained had it not been for the raw emotions written all over Hiromi’s face, his eyes fixed on the seat of your underwear and the obvious stain that was caused by his ministrations.

Bending his knees to drop closer to you, he savoured your mouth with his tongue pushing past the seam of your lips to curl over your teeth. He filled his hands with the fat of your ass, pulling the cheeks apart and massaging the roundness with little gentleness. It was all you could do to moan, the sounds swallowed greedily only to be replaced by a pleading keen when he tugged your underwear away from your cunt. The fabric bunched around your knees, and you assumed he’d move back to remove them fully, but he didn’t. Instead, he twisted the material until it was tight around the bend of your knees, pinning you in place. 

His long slender fingers stroked your pretty slit, coming away with remnants of your arousal and using it to mix with his precum that continued to weep onto your hand. Hiromi’s head sagged forward, black hair falling into his eyes as a long string of saliva fell from what he’d gathered behind his teeth to your sensitive clit. He smeared it around the bundle of nerves, scissoring his fingers until he could tug it feverishly.

“Hiro… fuck me already. Goddammit, I’m gonna blow,” you whined, painfully aware that you were dangling by a thread.

You helped him lead his cock to your entrance, tapping it against your folds to see the tendons in his neck strain and giving you some semblance of smug satisfaction. When he finally notched where you needed him most, your breathing was coming so rapidly you faintly worried you might pass out from this. The air was so thick you struggled to inhale, drowning in this faux forbidden tryst.

He groaned, long and low. His nose nudged into your warm cheek as he bent even lower and pushed into your velvet heat. “That’s it. This pretty pussy is sucking me in—fuck—oh, you like that?” He teased, his hips drawing back only to plunge in again, and deeper this time when he felt you clench around him.

You gripped his forearms, head lolling against the headrest when his cock reached your depths, and the coarse midnight patch of hairs at his pelvis rubbed delicious friction into your pert little pearl. 

“Mhm… mhm. Keep going. Don’t stop.”

Higuruma could have laughed at the absurdity of your words. What made you think he could stop even if he wanted to? You were hugging him too perfectly, pulling him back in each time he withdrew his hips. The rhythmic pap of his full-to-bursting balls against the split of your ass rocketed him closer and closer to the finish point, enough so that he fisted the base of his dick to stave off his looming orgasm. He wasn’t ready for this to end, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop either.

The tails of his shirt escaped his trousers and obscured the view of his cock disappearing into your warm cunt, and he growled in frustration. You were so close to the precipice of your orgasm that you didn’t realise why he was growling, only moaning at the primal noise and clenching down hard enough that Hiromi’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

Releasing his hold on your thighs, he grinned wolfishly at the imprints of his fingertips on the backs of your legs. With his heart pounding rapidly, he ripped his shirt up his torso and gripped the material between his teeth. His cock sawed in and out at a pace that was losing its rhythm at an alarming rate. 

He’d never looked like this before, crazed with desire and burning heat covering the apples of his cheeks. The whisky smoke in his eyes was barely visible due to how blown out his pupils were, and you lifted a hand to caress his cheek. His eyes cut to you, hips rotating whilst buried against your cervix, and with a sharp nod, he asked you to cum for him. His thumb sought out your clit, working it from side to side whilst his balls drew painfully tight and the first lick of molten heat dripped at the base of his spine.

Your eyes rolled over, limbs going lax and pliant pinned between the chair and his body. Your toes curled within your stockings, thighs trembling and butterflying open onto the arms of the chair. Hiromi rode out your high, slowing himself just so, but he couldn’t hold back for too long.

With a willpower that shocked him, he pulled out at the last moment and pumped himself until thick viscous spurts of cum shot across your exposed breasts and stained the blouse covering your stomach. He convulsed so intensely his knees nearly buckled, long drawn-out whimpers ripping from his throat, and you watched it all through hooded, blissed-out eyes. 

Hiromi sagged forward, his forehead pressed against yours as he fought to catch his breath. His cock twitched as it softened, the sensation worsened by your toying little fingers exploring his sensitive skin and rubbing the mixture of his and your arousal into his pelvis and across his balls. He didn’t know what to say. The fantasy lived out was so much more than his imagination could conjure, but he still felt a little vulnerable now it was over.

He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth and licked over his parched lips. Words caught in his throat, but they were cut off by the trill of his phone on the desk as it vibrated across the wood. You handed it to him with a shy smile, and he answered it after smoothing back his hair.

“Mr Higuruma?”

“S-speaking,” he answered, clearing his throat urgently.

“I’m calling from Clerical Angels. Unfortunately, I have bad news. It is going to be another week before a new assistant can start. I’m sorry for the delay, I know it must be an inconvenience…”

Your eyes widened at the conversation you could hear as clear as day, meeting his steady gaze with cheeks that burned with a combination of mild embarrassment and intrigue. One more week.

“Not at all. I think I can cope, my wife is happy to bend over backwards for me.”

Oh, Hiromi would pay for that comment… but not for at least another week.

[xxsabitoxx]

Pale Blue [Part One]

Geto Suguru x AFAB Pregnant Reader

READ PART TWO HERE

Warnings: THIS FIC IS CANON COMPLIANT, if you are not caught up on Jujutsu Kaisen's manga, or at the very least if you have not seen "gojo's past" you WILL be spoiled. This story contains darker themes, heavier topics, pregnancy and all the lovely details of it, and lastly explicit sexual content. Read at your own risk!

A/N: Here it is!! Part One!! This fic is super self indulgent for me and I'm very excited for y'all to read it. The idea literally came to me in a dream like a month ago and I woke up and immediately started writing. It's been a long ass time since I've written a plot heavy fic, and it's been well over a year since I've actively planned a multiple part story and gone through with it. So, this fic is kinda like... my baby lol.

Word Count: 19k | Playlist

September 2007

Your mouth felt like chalk, hands trembling ever so slightly as you set the small wand on the countertop in your bathroom. You couldn't think straight, but that unfortunately wasn’t anything new, it had been that way for the last three weeks. Ever since he left, you had felt like your head was stuck in a fishbowl. People eyeing you with pity at the world you had been dropped into, their whispers muffled into incoherent nonsense as you walked by. Satoru was no better off, but he could at least tug his emotions off of his sleeves and place them in his heart where nobody could see them, except for you. At least you would be able to see them if he didn’t shut you out. 

Not that you had been any kinder, you had withdrawn too. 

The only one who seemed alright was Shoko, her reaction to Suguru’s deflection was nothing out of character. Not many things could shock her to her core, even something as absurd as what Suguru had done couldn’t wipe the gentle smile from her face when she saw him again. You envied her for that level of composure. You envied her for getting to see him again, just as you envied Satoru. For some reason, the man evaded you as if you were the plague. Or perhaps it looked like you were merely chasing after a ghost, a figment of your imagination. You kind of wished that it was true, that Geto Suguru had been someone you conjured up in your mind. 

But he wasn’t, he was a real, breathing human who had taken over one hundred lives…. Including his parents. The thought made your mouth taste like metal, everytime you zoned out too long and thought too hard, you’d bite your inner cheek until it bled. Three weeks later you still felt like you were moving on autopilot, the only thing that could pull you out of it would be his gentle embrace. You blinked a bit, the metallic taste coating your tongue as you unclench your jaw and look in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself, for a moment  you think you look just like him, and it's enough to steal the little air you had in your lungs. 

You had never thought you'd experience a heartbreak as severe as this one, and you especially didn’t think it would be dealt to you by Suguru. Though you saw all of the signs, the hundreds if not thousands he put out and never let you touch. No, his cries for help were always directed at Satoru. The white haired man never seemed to catch them, and if he did, he never said a thing. Suguru had refused to acknowledge his issues when he was with you, no matter how many times you tried to sit him down and get it out. He’d change the subject and move on. 

He’d sweet-talk you, making you forget why you had been so concerned in the first place because there, for a fleeting moment, was the boy you had fallen in love with two years prior. He’d fill your mind with nothing but good things, pretty noises, good feelings. Not stopping until his name was all you could utter, not stopping until you fell asleep in his arms, content and sedated. He was a master at avoidance, trying so hard to keep things perfect just for you. You were beginning to hate him for it, but even the idea of hating him made bile burn your throat. 

You were left in emotional turmoil, love mixing with hate mixing with rage and depression. No matter how many times the word hate flashed through your mind, it was never truly directed at Suguru. Rather the jujutsu world, the things they had forced upon him, the pressure he had been made to feel. You especially felt that bubbling hate for a certain man by the name of Fushiguro Toji, who caused this whole spiral. He was long gone now, Satoru had effectively put the man down and he would not be getting back up. Though it killed you to no end that he got the easy way out. You almost wished that Satoru had kept the man alive. 

You couldn’t stomach it as your back pressed into the cold wall of your bathroom, arms folded over your chest as you stared at nothing in particular. Eyes refusing to focus on anything of importance but making a point to avoid the developing test on the counter. 

Suguru had left you a note, shortly after his final conversation with Satoru. You had returned to your dorm to see it on your bed and you recognized his handwriting before you even read your name on the envelope. You could still feel your hands trembling as you ripped the paper, flinching as it cut your skin, crumbling as tears dripped down your cheeks. You read it three times before finally comprehending the words, the paper littered with tear drops and your blood. Every word was written with care, you could hear his voice as your eyes passed over each sentence, see his face before you as if he was speaking. 

It was an apology, his resolve and a goodbye all in one. Leaving you more empty than you had felt before. Still, it sat on your nightstand, you couldn’t throw it away. As if his sweaters weren’t still hanging in your closet, like the blanket he got you wasn’t still sitting on your bed. You held onto that letter like it was the last thing you had of him. Mourning him as if he had died, like he wasn’t still alive and breathing and walking around within the very city you were in now. You almost thought it would be easier if he had died. At least you’d feel some sort of closure, knowing he’s not coming back. But this, this was a form of torture for you. 

To know that you could bump into him at a restaurant, or even pass him on a busy street. He wasn’t gone, if anything he was doing better than he ever was. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and everyone else behind to pick up the shattered pieces. Still, you couldn’t hate him for that. No amount of anger would mend the torn pieces of your broken heart. You were fairly certain nothing would, the only cure was the one man you could no longer call your own. You’d spend the rest of your life with your heart ripped wide, an empty void filling the space. 

You inhaled deeply, pushing off the bathroom wall and taking a hesitant step towards the counter. The test was upside down, you couldn’t see the small little window that would show you the results, for a moment you wanted to pick it up and throw it in the trash without even looking. There was nothing stopping you from doing so either, but you held back anyways. The only reason you were taking a pregnancy test in the first place was because your period was two weeks late. You could easily chalk it up to stress, but at the same time you knew all too well that you and Suguru often went without protection. Idiot. 

Somehow, despite his inner battles, Suguru’s sex drive never slowed down. Maybe it was the craving for physical touch or maybe sex was a great way for him to forget about his issues for a while. Regardless, you had always been eager to oblige, even if it meant falling into his traps and luring your attention away from the real issue at hand. You had no idea how long it had been and if the damn thing was positive you were sure it would show up by now. So you picked it up and flipped it over in your hand, tired eyes scanning it. Your forehead creased for a moment, eyes squinting in frustration because you couldn’t tell if there was a second line or not. 

If it’s positive, it's too early to tell. Your grip tightens around the small plastic test, anger flooding your heart as you chuck it in the trash can with such force it rattles as it hits the wall. Once again you are left with uncertainty. It seemed nobody could give you a straight answer anymore. Truth be told, you weren’t sure what you wanted that test to say. The thought of being pregnant with his child would have elated you two months ago. Now the thought made your insides twist and turn, for a moment you thought you were going to puke again. At the very same time, the idea of the test being negative felt like a rug being pulled out from under you. 

As if you didn’t know that feeling well enough. 

In a twisted way, you thought that being pregnant would bring him back to you. As if it would erase every heinous crime he had committed and bring the man you loved back into your arms. You were foolish, but not foolish enough to really believe in those daydreams. You hauled yourself out of your bathroom and back into your dorm room, falling into your disheveled bed with a soft thump. His t-shirt was hanging loosely on your body, it still smells faintly of him. It’s the only shirt of his that you’d been wearing, too afraid to lose his scent on the others. 

It was still early enough for you to sleep for a few more hours before Shoko was knocking on your door and hauling you into the world. You hated it, but she assured you that you’d thank her for it in a couple months. You doubted it, and for some reason you felt like she did too. 

Your sleep was dreamless, it had been since Suguru left you. You weren’t quite sure if you were thankful for that or not. Suguru was still the last thing you thought about before falling asleep and the first thing you thought of when you woke up. His absence consumed your every thought, impossible to ignore, unable to forget. There had been a few tough nights where you dragged yourself down the hall towards Satoru’s room. The man was usually still up, sitting on his bed with a book in hand that you could tell he wasn’t reading. Just an attempt at distraction. 

He welcomes you without a word, scooting over a bit so you could sit beside him, head on his shoulder as he tosses the book to the floor. You remain like that until you fall asleep, no words spoken but nothing needed to be verbalized to understand you were both mourning the loss of a man who wasn’t even dead. In an odd way, you felt as if you were mourning Satoru as well. His smile, his jokes, the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, all of those things had dwindled. To his credit, he was managing to pull himself back together, at least better than you had been. 

A harsh knock at your door signaled that Shoko was there. You hadn’t even realized that you fell asleep, but you felt even more groggy than you had a couple hours prior. “I’m up.” It’s hoarse and unconvincing but you hear Shoko utter a small “ok”. You know she’s still there, she always waits for you to get dressed and emerge from your room yourself. If you make her wait any longer than fifteen minutes she's usually barging in herself to pull you from your bed. Your body aches as you sit up, stumbling across the room to the bathroom because you need to pee yet again. 

The air almost feels stale as you get your routine done in the bathroom, the test is still sitting in the small can beside your sink. It’s presence is heavy, to the point you question if you should take it out with you despite only having a couple tissues accompanying it. You decided against it when she knocked again. “Just getting dressed.” You mumbled softly, listening for her small “Hmph.” At least letting you know she heard you. Your uniform still felt foreign on your skin, it had for the last three weeks but you tried to ignore it. “About time.” Shoko smiled as you emerged, Satoru beside her. “Oh? You’re both here?” Your tone was questioning but not mad. 

“Yeah, Yaga said we should take the day to be normal or something like that.” Satoru drawled, circular glasses sliding down his nose as he rolled his eyes. “Us? Normal?” You snorted, pulling your door shut as Shoko began walking down the hallway. “He just doesn’t know what to do with us at the moment.” Satoru offered in a low tone, Shoko would scold him for speaking like that, especially to you. The thing is, he wasn’t saying anything that you hadn’t already thought of yourself. “I don’t know what to do with us either.” You could assume Yaga was being vigilant, the guilt of not seeing what was happening with Suguru was weighing on him too. 

The flick of Shoko’s lighter was heard as you stepped into the morning air, laughter bubbling in your chest as you looked at her. “It was killing you, wasn’t it.” Yaga had been cracking down on her bad habit, trying to limit her by saying no smoking in the dorms. “Just a little.” She teased back, inhaling deeply before blowing the gray smoke past her lips. “Shoko, gimme one.” Your eyebrow cocked as Satoru stuck his hand out. Her eyes met you for a moment before begrudgingly handing the lighter and pack to him. “New habit?” You commented softly, watching as he stuck a cylinder between his lips and held his hand up to block the flame from the wind. 

Satoru shrugged, inhaling a bit before blowing out, moving to hand the pack to you. You hesitated, the test in your dorm trash can still lingering in the back of your mind. “I’m good.” You took them anyway, handing them to Shoko. Neither of them said anything but they shared a knowing glance, they couldn’t be mad at you for trying to quit a bad habit. “So where are we going?” You didn’t like the prolonged silence as the two of them puffed away. “I didn’t think you’d want to go anywhere, but if you want we can go get breakfast.” Shoko’s eyes flickered over both you and Satoru, as if she was looking at two temperamental children. 

“Breakfast sounds good.” Satoru offered, shoving one hand in his pocket while the other plucked the cig from his lips. “It does.” You added softly, stomach turning at the very thought of food but you couldn’t let them know that. You had lost your appetite shortly after he left, but you still forced yourself to eat at least one substantial meal a day. The nausea that had settled in your gut most days usually deterred you from anything else but plain rice and maybe some soup. Still, it was food and the only thing you could keep down at that. “Alright, I’ll call for a driver and we can go get something to eat.” Shoko pulled out her phone, clicking on a number she saved. 

“You’ve been eating, right?” You jumped a little, eyes sliding over to Satoru. His tone was low, just low enough for only you to hear. “Yeah, I’ve been eating… you?” He looked the same, tall and lean with broad shoulders. Satoru nodded, pushing his glasses up to sit on the bridge of his nose. “The car will be at the gates for us in five minutes so let's get going.” Shoko started walking, like always you and Satoru followed behind her like ducklings. Satoru’s question still lingered in your mind, his ability to read your thoughts nearly rivaled Suguru. 

You had to wonder just how much those six eyes of his could see. 

The three of you clamored into the car, Satoru taking the passenger seat while you and Shoko took the back. You had no idea where you were going, not even when Shoko gave an address to the driver. It was somewhere in the city, you knew that much, but you trusted her judgment and prayed they would have something plain for your stomach. None of you spoke as the car barreled forward, your eyes glued to the surroundings zipping past you, as if you’d catch him walking down the street on a busy morning. You knew you’d always be looking for him, everywhere you went, your eyes would search for him. 

You tore your eyes from the window, glancing at Satoru in the passenger seat. You couldn’t see his eyes, but his head was turned towards the window. If you had to guess, he was doing the very same thing. Looking for someone who would never appear. Unless you were Shoko of course, you still felt your throat tighten at the thought. You knew Suguru had chosen to reveal himself to her for a couple reasons. One being that she wasn’t nearly strong enough to take him down single handedly. The other being her easy going nature, he knew there would be little to no conflict or questions to answer with her. If roles were reversed, you’d do the same. 

“Hello?” You blinked, looking at Shoko with parted lips. “You okay?” her head tilted, brown eyes lingering over your features. “I… yeah.” You swallowed, the car was still moving so you didn’t space out for that long. “What are you in the mood to eat?” She repeated the question she had asked seconds prior while you were clearly on another plane of existence. “Something plain.” You offered lamely, hands clasping together in your lap. “Plain?” Satoru questioned, eyes shifting to look at you through the rearview mirror. “My stomach has been sensitive. Plain foods are all I can really get down right now.” You shrunk into the seat. 

Shoko hummed, eyes observing you intently now. You could almost hear her silently listing all of your physical symptoms, noting in her head the various things that could cause them. Most could be answered with heartbreak, but that didn’t typically make you sensitive to certain foods. Shoko and Satoru knew of Suguru's relationship with you. They knew you were serious about each other, that you often slept in the other’s dorm depending on the day. They knew you went on dates and bought each other gifts. They knew you had long since confessed your love to one another and were not strangers to holding hands when you thought nobody was looking. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the two of you slept together as well. 

~

“Quiet.” You sunk your teeth into the side of your cheek, struggling to stifle your noises as Suguru’s fingers curled inside of your tight heat. “You don’t want them to hear us, right?” he cooed again, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he pressed you harder into the empty desk, nearly pushing it into the wall of the classroom with the ferocity of his hunger. 

You shook your head, not trusting your voice in that moment to make any coherent sounds. Your nails dug into his bicep, legs splayed hazardously over the sides of the desk as you used your free hand to brace yourself. Two fingers continued to plunge in and out of you, curling perfectly and sucking the air from your lungs as he found that one particular spot. 

Suguru watched in fascination, dark eyes glazed over as they flickered between his hand and your face. Each draw back revealed the slick shine of your arousal on his digits, each push forward was accompanied by a squelch. It made his throat tight, arousal making him feel hot all over as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. 

“Sugu…” You choked, face warming considerably as you realized how desperate you sounded. “Hmm?” a gentle hum, his fingers burying deep and massaging your walls until your thighs twitched. “I need you.” Your head fell back, hand leaving his bicep to slap over your mouth in an attempt to silence the cry that left you. “You…need me?” 

Those words were jarring to him, as if a chain of firecrackers had been ignited under his skin. You nodded, helpless and at his mercy as you prayed Satoru and Shoko wouldn’t wander off to figure out where the two of you had gone. You couldn’t quite comprehend what happened next, the sudden retreat of his fingers left you feeling empty, clearing your foggy mind for a second. 

They were quickly replaced with something else, something wet and soft. Your eyes widened considerably when you looked down to see Suguru on his knees, hands gripping the plush of your thighs with his face buried between. He would have given you more if it weren't for his damn pants, he was too impatient to struggle with the high waisted fashion choices he made. 

You couldn’t think again, mind immediately fogging over as you focused solely on Suguru’s head between your legs. The flat of his tongue licking up your folds before delving further, bumping your clit with his nose and earning a strangled noise from you. You bit down on your fist now, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to silence yourself for a bit. 

Suguru didn’t mind, if anything he wanted them to hear you. He wanted to see the shocked look on Satoru’s face when he realized what was happening. He couldn’t lie, this whole rendezvous had started because of an offhand comment Satoru made. One about how he was likely better at pleasing women than Suguru. You knew that's why you were in here too, you felt like you needed to thank Satoru for pushing Suguru to this point, whether that was his intention or not. 

Heat continued to build in your gut, if you could trust yourself to stay balanced you would have let go of the desk and buried your hand in his hair. You wanted to tug the silky black locks from the confines of the bun he always kept them in, watch them cascade around his handsome face and turn messy because of your fingers. Then again, that may make it a little too obvious to your two awaiting friends. “Sugu…” 

You gasped, hand flying from your mouth to grab the desk as you nearly lost your balance. Suguru had started to stand, knocking you back as his arms wrapped around your lower half in a bear hug. Suguru was standing at his full height now, your knees bent over his shoulders while only your mid-back and shoulders pressed into the desk. You could have melted into a puddle the moment his eyes met yours, his mouth still pressed firmly to your cunt. 

“Suguru…” You choked again, hands moving to grip the sides of the desk for some kind of grounding. You could feel him smirk, eyes burning into yours as his tongue lavished you. It was all too much, too lewd, too risky. Your orgasm was building faster than you anticipated, the tingling arousal shooting down your spine and making your legs tense as he teased you. You came with a choked cry of his name, eyes squeezing shut as you rode out your orgasm. 

~

“We’re here.” You blinked, eyes scanning your surroundings as Satoru got out of the car. “Are you sure you’re okay? We can get the food to go and head back to campus.” Shoko’s words were out of concern but her tone was still relaxed. “I’m alright, I could use some time in a busy space.” You lied, the quiet of your dorm room had never sounded so inviting. “Thank you.” You muttered softly to the driver, his small smile told you he was well aware of what was going on. Satoru was already by the front door of the cafe, putting out the butt of his cigarette on a nearby trash can before dropping it in. Shoko did the same, following after you as you entered. 

Satoru’s looks tended to come in handy, his glasses sliding down his nose to show the startling blue of his eyes was all that was needed to get the three of you a seat and bypass the wait. “At least you’re good for something.” You teased him, watching him roll his eyes before smiling. “It’s my duty to get the two of you quick service and good food, even if I have to whore myself out.” For some reason, that had laughter bubbling in your chest, the genuine kind. “Such a noble sacrifice.” You laughed, the menu in your hand shaking as your shoulders bounced. You were too distracted to see the way Satoru’s shoulders seemed to sag in relief as he watched you, for a moment it was like nothing had changed.

If it weren't for the gaping, empty space in the booth beside him, he would have been convinced. 

“What are you going to get, Shoko?” She was the only one actively looking over the menu. “I’m not sure yet, but they do have some options that would be easy on your stomach.” You weren’t sure why but it made your heart ache just a bit, she had been more concerned over your meal than her own. At the very same time, it made you feel small, like you were a bit of a nuisance for having stomach issues… or whatever they were… in the first place. “Oh, alright.” You focused on the menu, aware of their eyes on you as you tried to find something small but appealing. You settled on tamagoyaki and asked for it to be made on the salty side rather than sweet. 

Shoko went for a traditional meal as well while Satoru ventured into their “western” cuisine. His choice sounded so sweet that the thought of it made your teeth hurt. “I don’t know how you do it, Satoru.” you sipped your tea slowly, letting the hot liquid slide down your throat and settle in your stomach. He only shrugged, smiling softly “I’ve yet to find something too sweet for me to handle.” Normally he would have added something flirty but he decided against it. Despite knowing you and Suguru were a couple, it never stopped Satoru’s flirtatious comments. It only bothered Suguru a little bit but he knew his best friend would never cross that kind of line. 

“You may go into cardiac arrest before you meet your match, Satoru.” Shoko snorted, sipping her coffee as she took in the surroundings of the busy cafe. For a moment, you wondered if she was doing what you and Satoru had been subconsciously doing for the last three weeks. “I keep waiting for him to appear.” Your tone was just barely above a whisper, as if even bringing up his existence would cause the world to implode around you. “Me too.” Shoko spoke softly, eyes still looking anywhere but the two of you. Satoru kept quiet, face unusually somber as he sipped his coffee. “I think I’ll eventually go insane.” 

You tried to sound lighthearted but the crack in your voice gave the opposite effect. 

Satoru’s eyes flickered up at that, making your shoulders shrink into the booth. You had quickly come to learn that both of your friends were treating you like fragile porcelain. Though you partially felt the same when talking to them, especially Satoru. Despite the frequent and long nights with each other, little to no words were ever spoken. “I’m fine.” You tried, voice a little stronger than before. “We can talk about these things without falling apart.” It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than them. Before anyone could speak, the waiter was walking over with your food, effectively stopping any further discussion. 

“Satoru…” You choked as the waiter walked away, eyes focused on the sugary, gooey concoction on the plate before him. “That’s your ticket to the ER.” Shoko was gawking at it too, a bite of food already halfway to her mouth. Satoru, on the other hand, looked like a kid on christmas morning, glasses sliding down his nose with a smile on his face. Your stomach grumbled as he cut into the pancakes, the feeling making you jump just a bit. You actually felt hungry, mouth watering as you looked down at your own plate and moved to take a bite. 

Silence fell over the table as you all ate, within minutes half of your food was gone and you were quietly wishing you had ordered something a little bigger.

“You need a napkin.” You laughed softly, handing Satoru your spare napkin so he could wipe the syrup off of his cheek. “Thanks.” For some reason you couldn't help but think he looked like a little kid. For another reason you couldn’t quite explain, it made sadness sink into your shoulders. He should be here with the three of you, eating and laughing and bringing you the comfort you always looked for in him. Your hands shook as you moved to eat more, not willing to let the surge of emotion get rid of the appetite you rarely had nowadays. 

As you finished your plate, you felt the bubbling wave of nausea build in your stomach. You inhaled slowly, trying to find a way to ease your worries and keep your food down. “Are you okay? You look a little green.” Shoko eyed you with concern, not even a second later Satoru was signaling the waiter for the check. “Y-yeah… told you my stomach was sensitive. That’s the most I've eaten at once in the last three weeks.” You couldn’t stand the embarrassment of making a scene or wasting money on the food you had just consumed. “I’ll be back.” You slipped out of the booth, your friend’s concerned eyes zeroing in on you as you disappeared for the bathroom. 

Luckily for you the bathroom was empty, the fluorescent lights making you flinch as you stumbled to the sink and turned the water on cold. You leaned over it, hands and wrists submerged under the running stream, chest heaving with the effort to remain calm. You were desperate to keep the food down, so desperate you could feel sweat forming on your temple as you tried to focus on anything but the nausea. Suguru’s face flashed through your mind and for a moment you were convinced your knees would give out from under you. 

~

“I told you to take it easy.” He huffs softly, fingers running through your hair as he rakes it away from your face. Carefully, he’s looping one of his elastics around your hair to keep it in place. Your head is still buried in the toilet, you had just finished throwing up for the third time in the last hour. “Are you still with me?” His hand is on your back now, rubbing slow but deliberate circles. Feebly you give him a thumbs up, throat burning from the sting of alcohol coming back up. 

“You didn’t eat much today and then you went and got shit-faced with Shoko.” Suguru stated the obvious, trying not to scold you because he knew you weren’t doing good right now. “I don’t think you have anything else to puke up, do you want some water?” You lifted your head now, reaching for toilet paper to wipe your mouth. “Water sounds good.” Your voice was weaker than Suguru had expected it to sound, his heart aching a bit as he sat beside you on the bathroom floor. 

“I’ll be right back, okay? Just yell if you get scared and I’ll be by your side before you know it.” You nodded, thanking him softly as he got up and disappeared out of your bathroom. You were only seventeen at the time, acting far older than you were and thinking you could get away with it. Now, you are facing the consequences of being naive. Typical for someone your age. Suguru had returned in under two minutes, handing you a glass of room temperature water. “It’ll be easier on your stomach at this temperature.” He chuckled as you grimaced. 

He moved to grab a washcloth from your cabinet, turning the sink water on cold. “And this…” he wrung it out twice before turning off the water “will help focus your attention on something other than the nausea.” He placed the cloth on the back of your neck, watching your shoulders sag in relief as something finally cooled your clammy skin. “Thanks, Sugu.” 

~

“Sugu… I’m scared.” Your voice was barely audible, tears burning your eyes as you squeezed them shut. Somehow it was working, your pain outshining the nausea as you tried to stop yourself from sobbing in the middle of the restroom. A year had passed since that moment in time, you were only eighteen now and yet you felt as if you had grown a decade. Yet, you were reduced to a scared and crying child because of nausea. Get it together. You forced yourself to straighten, hands slightly numb under the current of cold water. 

You forced yourself to make eye contact with your reflection, observing how stark the dark circles were under your eyes. Shoko had been right, you did look a bit green, but it was fading steadily as everything subsided. You let your hands sit under the water for a minute longer before bending over the sink and splashing some on your face. The door to the restroom opened as you straightened again, Shoko was looking at you with worry. “Did you get sick?” you shook your head, turning the water off and reaching for the paper towels. 

“Managed to fight it off… for now.” 

“Satoru paid already, there is a convenient store a couple shops down. We can get you some nausea meds and a barf bag for the ride back… just in case.” You nodded, smiling a bit. “That would probably be a good idea.” you followed her out of the bathroom and through the restaurant, Satoru was standing on the sidewalk with a new cigarette between his lips. “Damn, you really did develop a new habit.” He only shrugged, inhaling deeply before blowing more out. “I’ll get over it at some point.” Knowing him and his will-power, he probably would. 

“I’ll call for the driver, Satoru take her to the convenient store and I’ll catch up.” Satoru nodded, saluting her with a quick “yes ma’am” before grabbing your hand and dragging you along. You didn’t speak until Shoko was out of earshot. “Do you think it’s going to get better?” You appreciated the weight of his hand in yours, though you were certain he could feel how clammy it was. “I think it’ll get more bearable with time.” not better, but tolerable. The thought had your chest feeling heavy as you stepped inside of the small store. 

“Nausea meds and barf bags.” Satoru chuckled, reading the signs above each aisle until he spotted one that seemed like a good start. “You’ll have to see a doctor if this doesn’t ease up… how long has it been going on anyways?” You shuffled behind him, arms crossing due to him letting them go a moment prior. “Shortly after he left, after I found the letter.” Only Satoru knew about the letter that had been left behind. How Suguru managed to get back onto campus and leave it in your dorm was beyond him. You had even let him read it, breaking his heart again. 

“Shoko!” Satoru called, noticing her walk down the aisle before you could even turn your head. “I’m not good with this stuff, what should we get?” Satoru had already grabbed a box of blue cylindrical barf bags for you but the actual meds were basically foreign to him. “I’ll handle it from here, Satoru. You can wait in the car, he should be upfront by now.” Satoru’s brows furrowed, so did yours, but the look in Shoko’s eyes had him shrugging and handing the box to you. “Alright then, I’ll see ya out there.” 

He whistled as he strolled by, your eyes narrowing on Shoko. “What’s this about?” you watched her shuffle through the shelves, picking up one and reading the box before setting it down and moving onto the next. “I don’t know what you mean.” She commented offhandedly, plucking another box and reading it before sighing. “This one should work.” She turned, handing it to you while motioning you to follow her down the aisle. You read it over, nothing out of the ordinary so you truly couldn’t figure out what made this one different from the others. 

You stopped short when Shoko did, eyes scanning the aisle and feeling your stomach drop. “Shoko–” You sighed, she was standing in front of the pregnancy tests. “Listen, I know it’s probably the last thing you want to even think about but I think you should take one.” She was grabbing a box of the cheap tests, the same test that was still residing in the trash can of your bathroom. “Shoko, it's not necessary.” You couldn't bring yourself to tell her you already took one, for some reason you couldn’t tell her it was negative either. 

“I’ll buy them, and you’ll keep them. If this nausea doesn’t subside in like two weeks, I’m forcing you to take them.” You felt your face burning, clutching the nausea meds tightly in your hands as you looked away from her. “Fine.” You sighed, head tilted at her shoes as you followed her up front to the register. Everything was placed neatly in a brown bag so nobody could see the contents. Once in the car, you popped open the barf bags just to keep one ready in the event your nausea returned full force. “I figured you would forget this.” 

You looked up to see Satoru handing you a bottle of water, your lips parting in surprise. “You know me well, Satoru. I did forget.” you took it from him, grabbing the box of nausea meds and ripping them open. You took them and sighed, gulping down water when you realized how thirsty you had been. “If we have nothing else to do today, I think I’ll take a nap.” You were aching for your bed, more tired now than you had been after any missions. “Alright but we’ll wake you up for dinner if we don’t hear from you.” Shoko smiled, cracking the window to light a cig. 

“It’s not even 11am yet.” you snorted. “Yeah but you can sleep like the dead when you really need it, if we don’t wake you, you’ll sleep straight through till tomorrow.” You opened your mouth to deny it, about to use your frequent bathroom breaks as an excuse but stopped yourself. Saying that would only confirm the very thing Shoko was suspicious of. “Alright, fine, whatever.” You resigned with a playful huff, arms crossing as you turned to look out the window. Luckily for you, you managed to make it through the ride without needing to use the bag. 

“I’ll see you later.” You called after them, waving as you headed for the dorms. They both waved back, finding shade under a tree to enjoy more of the sunny morning. You felt your shoulders sagging with each step, your social battery diminished far faster now that Suguru wasn’t always by your side. You had almost grown a bit too dependent on him, thinking he would be a constant in your life. You inhaled shakily, the brown bag crumbling between your fingers as your emotions bubbled to the surface yet again. You couldn't seem to get yourself to your dorm fast enough, hot tears slipping down your cheeks as you shoved the key in the lock. 

It came in heavy waves, making you feel weak as you could only succumb to the sadness festering in your chest. You dropped the bag by the door, kicking off your shoes and shouldering off your uniform jacket. Moving on autopilot, you drew your curtains shut and took off the rest of your clothing, sliding his shirt over your head until you were enveloped in his scent. You were gasping for air by the time your body hit the mattress, curling in on yourself as you sobbed. “I miss you.” You hiccuped, rubbing your eyes as if it would stop the tears. 

God dammit, Suguru, why did you have to do this?

You buried your head in your pillow, trying to drown out your own feelings before sadness turned to anger and you ripped your whole room apart because of it. 

~

“Stop wiggling so much.” His voice sounded like gravel, rumbling the back of your head as he spoke. “Can’t help it.” You retorted, trying your best to settle into a comfortable position. Suguru had you wrapped in a bear hug, his favorite form of affection, especially since he knew you couldn’t get out of his grasp. His arms were covered in thick muscles, something you initially didn't expect because his uniform and choice of baggy clothing typically hid them.

 You could use all your strength and his grip wouldn’t falter.  

“Why not?” he mumbled again, if you had to guess, his eyes were closed as he spoke. “Cause it’s warm, Sugu.” you were both laying on top of the covers, little to no clothing on because of the heat and the broken air conditioning that the school was still trying to fix. Nothing but an old fan swiveling side to side to create some sort of relief. Still, Suguru couldn’t sleep unless you were pressed flush to him, warm or not. “It’s not that bad.” 

“Oh it absolutely is.” you immediately countered, turning your head back to try and look at him. “It could be way worse.” he tried again, fingers thrumming against your side. “Yeah, it could, but it could also be better. Like if you let me go for example.” You wiggled a bit, trying to create space before he pulled you tightly to him again. “Nice try, it’s not happening.” You groaned, going limp in his arms as he began to laugh. “I could totally make it worse for you.” He added softly, lips ghosting your ear. Despite the heat, you shivered. 

“The weirdest things turn you on, Sugu.” 

“Hey, it’s not nice to call yourself weird.” 

You slapped his arm, earning another rumble of laughter as he moved to hover over you. “C’mon, if I make you sweat, it’ll make the breeze from the fan feel colder.” You rolled your eyes, studying his features as he looked down at you, hair framing his face and ghosting yours. “That’s counterproductive, you know.” Your hands were running up his biceps anyway, moving to wrap around his neck and pull him close to you. “Maybe it is, but you can’t say I’m wrong.” 

His head was lowering, giving into your pull with no hesitation. “You’re right, I can’t say you’re wrong. But… I want to.” You smile, pulling him further until your lips melt together. He was radiating warmth, his teeth grazing your bottom lip to ask for entrance. Your lips parted, hands snaking up into his hair and tugging at the strands until he groaned. Suguru braced himself on one hand, making the mattress dip just by your head. The rest of his weight was settled on his knees, caging your hips in so you truly couldn’t get away from him. Not that you wanted too now. 

You felt small beneath him, his bare skin radiating warmth as he used his free hand to push your shirt up. You could ignore the heat for the time being, more focused on the steady beating from between your thighs. “Sugu…” You parted with a gasp, watching him lean up and pull you with him, allowing him to drag your shirt over your head and toss it to the floor before pushing you down again. His lips didn’t return to yours, instead they moved to your neck, kissing along your pulse point until you were whining. “Quiet, baby, don’t forget we’re in my room.” 

Satoru was asleep next door, that realization set in like ice water being dumped over your head. “Suguru.” You choked as his head dipped lower, licking along your collarbone before moving to one of your breasts. He wasn’t going to answer you, and you knew that for a fact by the way his lips curled into a smirk against your skin. “You’re evil.” You gasped, hand fisting his hair tightly as he scraped his teeth along your breast, nipping at the soft skin. Your other hand found its home on his shoulder, nails scratching lightly as his muscles flexed under your grasp. 

You sunk your teeth into your cheek when his lips wrapped around your perked nipple, arousal making it pebble slightly as he sucked. Suguru’s tongue lavished your skin, flicking the bud until your back was arching into his touch. It wasn’t nearly enough, your breath coming out in short pants as you tried to pry him off and focus on your other breast. “These would look so pretty if they were full of milk.” You choked, eyes wide as he looked up at you through his lashes. “Don’t you think?” You couldn’t breathe for a moment, stunned into silence by his comment. 

“C’mon baby, don’t act so shocked.” He cooed softly, the tip of his tongue trailing up your sternum. He didn’t stop until he reached your lips, kissing them softly before dipping his head again. His hand toyed with the breast he had just teased endlessly, brown eyes observing the rate of your breathing before lowering onto your other breast. He repeated the same motions, nipping and sucking the senstive skin until you were squirming from the wetness between your legs.

“You haven't answered me, sweetheart.”

“B-because I don’t know how to answer that, Sugu.” You knew exactly what he was implying, but you couldn’t form a coherent response for him. “You just have to tell me if you agree, it’s pretty simple.” He chuckled, pushing himself up to look down at you. Your hands fell to your sides, his neck just out of your reach. “Just think about it, pretty girl.” You watched him, completely entranced as he pulled his briefs down and his erection sprang free. “Because I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” 

“You have?” You sat up a bit, fingers shakily pulling off your own underwear to save time. “I have.” He confirmed, cheeks turning a shade of red that you could see even in the moonlight. His hand slid along his length, spreading the precum drooling from his tip while his boxers rested at his mid-thigh. “Take those off, Sugu.” You smiled a bit, reaching for the waistband and pulling them taut before letting them snap back against his thigh. “So demanding.” He snorted, letting himself go to push the material off, tossing it to the floor just as you had done with your underwear. 

“So are you, demanding an answer for something so…so…” you couldn’t find the right words, not when his eyes were on you, devouring you whole. “…so what? How does it make you feel?” He redirected, pumping himself leisurely as your thighs fell open for him, still supporting yourself on your elbows as you waited. “How does what make me feel?” A stupid question but you were still reeling from the initial statement. Suguru laughed, hand still gliding over his length as he sat on his knees.

“How does it feel knowing I think about getting you pregnant… all the fucking time.” You couldn’t deny the thought made you feel hot, hotter than you felt from the heat and arousal mixing. Like molten lava was running its way through your bloodstream. “F-feels fucking…” you squirmed a bit, legs moving to close involuntarily until his hand shot out and stopped them. “Go on, pretty girl. Tell me.” You sat up, glaring at him with warm cheeks. “How about you fuck me. Then, maybe, I’ll tell you how I feel about your little fantasies.” Suguru groaned, head falling forward for a moment. 

“Sounds like a good deal to me.” He moved forward, pressing you back into the mattress as he pulled your thighs towards him. Your lips found his neck, sucking on it harshly as he ran the dull head of his cock between your slick folds. You let him move you however he pleased, your legs being pushed almost painfully to your chest as he pressed into you. You gasped in unison, his cock stretching you open easily despite no prep. “Shit…” his head fell forward again, nearly bumping yours as he bottomed out, no space left between the two of you. 

Suguru stayed in place, eyes shut as he focused on the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around him, unable to stay still. Your nails dug into his scalp, pulling a groan from his lips as you tried to relax but couldn’t. He was big, bigger than any fling or partner you had in the past. No matter how easily your cunt accepted him, it still stung for the first few seconds. You had grown to love the deep ache, the weight of him inside you, the way his tip would brush your cervix depending on the position. Like now, with your legs pressed so tightly to your body. 

“Can I move?” his voice was soft, eyes peering into your own once he gained his composure. “Y-yeah.” You breathed out, the feeling of his hands on your skin still sent shockwaves of arousal through you. Especially when his grip tightened, bracing himself on you as he drew his hips back half way before rolling into you again. You moaned, eyes squeezing shut as Suguru found his rhythm, hips meeting yours with a soft slap. “D-Don’t forget Satoru is…” You wailed softly, pleasure building quickly as he moved. “I know…” 

But the smirk on his face told you he no longer cared, he’d gladly listen to his white-haired best friend bitch and moan in the morning about being woken up by you. Suguru’s rhythm only sped up, hips angling perfectly to brush along that one particular spot as he thrust into you, cock head brushing your cervix every few thrusts until your vision was blurring. The pleasure ebbing through your body was more than enough to block out how uncomfortable your current position was. 

A wet squelch started to emit between your legs, loud enough to be heard over the drone of the fan as Suguru pounded into you. “So…” he started, voice strained as sweat dripped down his temple. “... can you tell me how it makes you feel now?” You blinked, awestruck that he was still hooked on getting an answer from you. “S-suguru…” you whined, head falling further into the pillows. “I’m not letting it go…ha… Tell me how it makes you feel.” he ground out, hips slowing just a bit. When you didn’t speak, he pressed more of his weight into you so one hand could break free. 

You moaned, loud and unrestrained as his fingers ghosted across your swollen clit, the sudden contact making you see stars. “Tell me how it makes you feel.” he repeated, watching your face go slack as his fingers and hips worked in tandem. “Makes me hot…” You admitted with a heavy breath, eyes struggling to focus on him. “I want you to do it, Sugu… fuck me till I’m pregnant.” The look on his face had you shrinking further into the mattress, an almost animalistic look taking over his eyes as he stopped moving all together. “Say it again.” 

“I want you to fuck me ‘til I’m pregnant, Suguru.”  

~

You woke up in a sweat, gasping for air as you stumbled out of bed and barreled to the bathroom. You couldn’t stop the nausea this time, knees hitting the tile floor with bruising force as you heaved into the toilet. You hadn’t even remembered falling asleep, but your dream was enough to send you into a death spiral. Tears burned your eyes as the little bit of breakfast you hadn’t digested came back up. Luckily for you, you had slept long enough that your food from this morning wasn’t a total loss. Nothing more than bile was left as you finally calmed down. 

You reached for toilet paper, wiping your tears and blowing your nose until you could at least breath without difficulty. Aching, you got up, flushing the toilet and washing your hands and face. You had no idea what time it was but you assumed it wasn’t late enough for dinner if Shoko never came to wake you up. At least that’s what you thought as you stumbled back into your dorm room slightly sweaty. That’s odd… The sun had begun to set just beyond your window, your eyes flickering to your alarm clock. 7:23pm stared back at you in big red numbers. 

I slept for over eight hours? You looked for your phone, seeing the missed text from Shoko. 

Shoko: I decided against waking you up, I figured you could use the sleep. Just text me when you’re awake and I can bring you dinner

You were partially grateful for her decision, your face still warm as your dream lingered in your mind. Dreaming of the past, how cliche. You sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. You had woken up so suddenly, adrenaline blocking out the sleepiness at first. Now, your body seemed to thrum with a dull ache, the headrush coming back around to kick you while you were down. You reached over to turn on the small lap residing on your nightstand, eyes squinting for a moment as you adjusted. Your eyes focused on the brown bag from earlier, the one you discarded on your floor after coming back. 

You knew there was water in there still, so you got up and grabbed it, looking at the bag contents in disdain. You emptied it on your desk, nausea meds, barf bags and the box of pregnancy tests. You studied then as you gulped down some of the water, easing the burn in your throat. The pregnancy tests Shoko had insisted on were identical to the one you took this morning. Weirdly enough you wished she had grabbed the more expensive digital ones. That way you wouldn't have to strain yourself trying to figure out if a second line was present or not. 

“Fuck it.” you sighed, dropping the now empty water bottle in the small barrel you kept beside your desk. You still had one more test in the box from this morning, you’d take another one just because of the memories lingering on your mind. Your face felt warm as you recalled that particular night from a few months back. Suguru had been pretty adamant after that, fucking you raw and in ernest with every intention of knocking you up. You, stupidly, let him because you love him and loved the idea of having a family with him. “Idiot.” 

You scolded yourself again, ripping the foil wrapper and tossing it in your trash with the now empty box. You went through the same process as you did that morning, peeing into a cup and dipping the absorbent end into it for ten seconds before capping it and discarding the rest of the contents. You forced yourself to leave the bathroom this time, convinced it would make time go by faster. The text Shoko had sent was still left unanswered, you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel hungry at that moment in time. 

You’d text her in a little while though, or else she’d likely come breaking your door down thinking you had run away. Just then, your phone vibrated with the ringtone you had set for Satoru. You grabbed it, flipping it open to see what he had to say. On the screen there was a message from him, asking if you wanted to hang out on the rooftop to watch the stars later on. You smiled a bit, it was rare for Satoru to ask things so formally. You clicked out a message, telling him yes and that you could use some fresh air. 

It took him no time at all to send a happy emoticon, one that had you rolling your eyes as you typed back that you’d meet him at his dorm when you were ready. You backed out of the chat, eyes lingering on a particular contact, your message to him was naturally left unanswered. You had given up texting Suguru’s number when the messages no longer got delivered. You figured he’d discard his phone, throw away any direct contact he had with the three of you. You snapped your phone shut a moment later, you’d text Shoko after you got dressed.

Opening your closet was still proving to be a bit difficult, especially as your fingers trailed over the material of the clothing Suguru had kept in your room. They smelt like the laundry detergent he used as well as his cologne, it took your breath away for a moment. You forced yourself away, grabbing some comfortable clothes that were actually yours before shutting the door. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to discard his clothing, despite knowing he wasn’t coming back to you. 

You pulled his shirt over your head, grabbing your own and replacing it. You pulled on a pair of shorts after, rubbing your face with your hands as you looked at your appearance in the mirror. No amount of sleep seemed to help the dark circles under your eyes or the sickly look to your complexion. You could only hope Satoru was right, with time it would become more manageable. You glanced at your alarm clock, 7:48pm stared back at you now. The sky outside your window had turned indigo, the sun minutes away from being completely out of sight. The summer was coming to an end, filling your chest with melancholy.

You couldn’t stand being alone in that moment, grabbing your phone and shoving it in your pocket as you made a beeline for your door. You made your way down the hall, remembering as you passed Shoko’s dorm that you needed to text her. Stopping in your tracks, you figured it would just be easier to see her in person. “Shoko?” you called, fingers tapping the door softly because she hated when people knocked too loud. “Coming.” You heard her rustling around her room before the door opened, a half smoked cigarette hanging from her lips. 

“Thought Yaga told you no smoking inside.”  

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, and my window is open.” 

You smiled, “I’m hanging out with Satoru on the roof if you wanna join us.” Shoko exhaled, puffing just a bit of smoke in your direction. “I’d love to but I spent the whole afternoon with him ‘cause you were sleeping.” You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck “my bad.” but Shoko was waving you off. “Don’t apologize, you need sleep… I’ll trust Satoru to feed you if you’re hungry.” She smiled as you rolled your eyes “Alright alright, enjoy the rest of your bad habit and I’ll take Satoru duty.” The look in Shoko’s eyes made your smile falter for just a moment. 

They looked oddly wistful, but it vanished just as quickly as your smile faltered. “Aye aye captain.” Shoko started to shut the door as you turned to leave, watching you go for just a moment before shutting it completely. “Satoru.” You drawled, banging on his door so you could be heard over the music he was playing. “Oi, keep it down!” the door swung open a moment later, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked at you. “Ready to go?” He looked cozy in an oversized black hoodie and sweats, sunglasses resting on top of his head. 

“Sure am.” you returned his smile, the ache in your chest easing just a bit. It was more bearable when you had someone who understood the pain you felt deeper than surface level. You watched him turn, shutting off his music and the lights before stepping into the hallway. “Are we going to take the normal way or are you going to test out your blue?” Satoru’s eyes seemed to sparkle as you suggested he use his curse technique. “If you insist on blue…” You couldn’t even make a sound as his arm wrapped around your waist, hauling you off of your feet. 

In the blink of an eye, you were exposed to the cooling night air. “Damn.” You laughed as he set you down, shuffling over to the small lock box you kept up here with spare blankets and, as Shoko claimed, “necessities”...Which were just two cartons of emergency cigarettes. “Didn’t disorient you, right?” Satoru was standing on the edge, observing the glow of the city in the distance. “Not even a little, you’ve improved a lot, Satoru.” your back was turned to him, so you missed the way his eyes widened slightly, cheeks turning pink. 

“Thanks” 

You turned back to him, blankets in hand. “So…” You walked over to where he was standing, taking a seat just before the edge and letting your legs dangle off. “...So?” Satoru looked down at you, watching you settle. “Why did you want to come up here… I’d love to gaze at the stars but it’s not like we’ll actually see any with all the light pollution.” Satoru sighed, dropping down to squat beside you. “I guess I just wanted your company… ya know since you’re probably the only other person that understands this.” his tone was awkward, it wasn’t often that you were sentimental… or serious for that matter… with each other. 

“Your welcome to have my company any time, Satoru. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you.” It was so heartfelt it made you feel strange. “Sorry.” You added, a bit meeker than before when he stiffened a bit. “Don’t be sorry, just not used to being so… serious with you.”  He sat fully now, shoulder brushing yours as a silent invitation for you to rest your head. You did, just as you always had, watching the lights of the city a few miles away. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” You spoke in a gentle tone, hoping he knew what you meant. 

“It is. Knowing he’s there, that he’s okay… while we’re sitting here sulking like idiots.” There was a small bite to his tone as he finished, one that quickly left when he exhaled. “It pisses me off.” It made you upset too, anger bubbling in the back of your mind like a pot of boiling water that was going to overflow at any second. “It pisses me off too, because I truly can’t understand it. I’ve killed myself over the last three weeks trying to understand, to make sense of it. I can’t and I don’t think I ever will. But it’s not my place to reason with it, you know?” 

Satoru was silent, waiting for you to continue. “It’s not my life, it’s his. I tried for months to get it out of him, I tried so goddamn hard to get him to open up and he never did. Always redirecting, always avoiding.” You sounded defeated by the end, blinking away the tears that blurred your vision so you could regain composure. “Why didn’t you come to me?” Satoru questioned softly, letting your words sink in like an anchor. 

“He gave you so many signs, Satoru. If you couldn’t see them, it wasn’t my place to assist.” 

Satoru felt like that should have made him angry, but it didn’t. Mostly because you were right, it had been obvious from the start but he had naively pushed them to the side, pretending it wasn’t true. He was just as much at fault, if anything he was willing to shoulder all of the blame. Because at least you tried. He couldn’t say the same, and he knew that far too well. “Suguru made up his mind the moment he entered that village. There is no stopping a man who is set in their resolve. You said it yourself, Satoru. He looked healthier, happier, content.” 

Satoru took in a shaky breath, leaning into you just as you leaned into him. “I just don’t get why he needed to kill his parents.” Your eyes closed, that was the thought weighing heaviest on your mind. “He needed to prove to himself that he was doing the right thing. That nobody, not even his parents, were an exception to his newfound ideology.” It killed you to say it, especially since you had met his parents last winter break. They were kind, at least his mother was. His father was a bit colder but there was still an undeniable love for his son. They had welcomed you so openly, they were proud of the son they had raised. 

Now they were gone, nobody but Suguru was to blame. 

“In a fucked up way, I don’t care that he killed those people.” The words felt bitter on your tongue, but his letter flashed through your mind and for a moment you understood him. Those two little girls, beaten and caged, scared and facing death for things they never did. Hell, had you gone on the mission with him, you may have encouraged his choices. That realization felt weird as it settled in your gut. “I… I don’t really care either.” Satoru admitted softly, thinking back over the last year, thinking about Amanai. He had been seconds away from doing the same thing. 

But Suguru had been his voice of reason, stopping him with a simple command. It should have been obvious then, that Suguru’s life was completely altered from that moment forward. “It was so obvious.” He hissed softly, head falling forward just a bit as anger squeezed his heart. “There is nothing we can do now, Satoru. Nothing we can do will reverse the damage that has been done.” You wished you could believe your own words, part of you wanted to catch a train into the city and barrel into that religious group he took over. 

You weren’t even sure what you’d do if you did. Hit him, yell at him? Crumple into his arms like the sucker you were. Maybe a mix of all three, no, it would definitely be a mix of all three. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react if he saw you again. He made it clear in his letter that he loved you, he still loved you, he would always love you. If you made the choice to leave, would he welcome you in with open arms. Or was he resenting you already for not doing so sooner. Was he waiting for you? Or was it nothing more than sweet-talk. 

“You’re not breathing.” Satoru muttered softly, tilting his head just a bit to look down at you. “Oh…” You inhaled deeply, laughing a bit  as you exhaled “got lost in thought.” You felt Satoru relax again, head resting against yours. “I get it.” You fell into a comfortable silence, watching as the sky steadily turned from a deep blue to pitch black. There, if you squint hard enough, you could make out a couple of sparkling stars. 

You knew if you asked, Satoru could probably whisk you somewhere far away. Somewhere clear so you could actually see the stars with no obstructions. 

Yet you were too comfortable, too warm. 

Sitting where you were now was more than enough for the time being. That feeling of content actually took the air from your lungs for a moment, blinking steadily as you took in your surroundings. There was a fleeting moment where your heart felt light, that aching heaviness that had been plaguing it for the last three weeks wasn’t present. You wondered quietly if Satoru felt it too. Given the way his body seemed completely relaxed into yours, you assumed he did. 

~

You were stumbling down the hall like a drunkard. Your mind felt numb as you moved, head tilted down and expression blank. If anyone were to cross your path at that given moment, they probably would have been unsettled by the sight of you. A zombie moving on autopilot, your brain moving so quickly that it had reduced everything to a quiet, droning buzz. 

Murder. 112 people. His parents too. He’s gone. He snapped. He’s a murderer. Suguru is gone. 

Nothing made sense, not a single bit of the information you had received made any sense. The fact that Suguru wasn’t answering your frequent texts wasn't making sense. The fact that you had woken up to an empty bed wasn’t making sense. The fact that people were telling you Suguru, your Suguru, had taken over a hundred lives in the span of one night wasn’t making any fucking sense. 

Your knees nearly gave out the moment your hand met the wood of your door, pushing it open so quickly it slammed into the wall with a loud thud before coming back at you. Not that you cared, at that moment you could be set on fire and you wouldn’t blink an eye. 

You stood in the middle of your dorm room, eyes scanning the room as if it were something foreign. Nothing was making sense, not even your bed looked like your own. It was the pressure cracking down on you already, sinking its claws into your shoulders and forcing you to your knees as the weight of your new reality hit you like a freight train. You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry in that moment, too shell shocked over the report Yaga had read to you and Satoru. 

Satoru. 

You had stumbled away shortly after the report was finished, barely registering the way he had started to yell. You hadn’t looked back, but it wasn’t like either of them tried to stop you. Despite having just stumbled away from him, you found yourself moving to leave and find him again. At least you would have if your knees didn’t give out on you. You gasped, more out of surprise than pain as your legs made contact with the wooden floor. You sat there for a moment, arms feeling equally as weak as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. 

You felt your chest tighten, every breath felt strangled as you tried to inhale. A cold sweat seemed to cover your skin, fingers shaking slightly as you pushed your hair from your face. You couldn’t move, completely paralyzed by shock. It felt like your heart was shattering, every shaky inhale deepening the wound. Still, your tears would not come. Not even as black spots began to obstruct your vision, chest heaving as you began to hyperventilate. 

Despite your body vibrating in distress, you felt a nearly silent calm. Like someone had flicked off the switch and stole your ability to hear.

Nothing and everything all at once. 

~

“Hey? Y/N wake up…” You jumped a bit, hand coming up to touch the wetness on your cheeks. “You were crying in your sleep.” Satoru muttered softly, hand smoothing over your hair as he cradled you. “I-I was?” You didn’t even realize the change in position or the change in scenery. You were no longer sitting by the roof’s edge, instead you were sitting in Satoru’s lap, his arms holding you tightly as he looked at you with worry. 

“You were.” he confirmed, letting you go just as you woke up fully. “Sorry for worrying you, I was just thinking about him… it’s so strange. I’ve been having such intense dreams of the past… I've had dreamless sleep for the last three weeks… so why now?” Satoru sighed, watching you get up to stand and stretch your limbs. “I don’t know. I’ve been having odd dreams about him but I don’t really remember how most of them go by the time I wake up.”

“It’s the universe’s way of torturing us… as if we haven’t been tortured enough. Wait, how long have I been asleep?” The temperature had dropped significantly, the moon was shining high in the sky now. “About an hour or so, I was actually going to bring you back inside but you started to cry and… well here we are now.” Satoru got up, stretching dramatically as you sighed. “You’d think after sleeping for eight hours I wouldn't be tired.” 

You walked to the edge of the roof again, feet pressing firmly to the ledge as you looked down. “Being depressed will suck the soul out of you.” For some reason you couldn’t help but laugh. “You seem pretty wide awake, Satoru.” He joined you on the ledge, pushing you a bit to the side. Your training gave you quick reflexes so you didn’t flinch when he did it. “Oh please, you know I’m right.” You glanced at him, laughing softly. 

“You are, but so am I. We can be depressed morons together.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, earning another laugh as you punched his shoulder. “Touche, Gojo” 

“Yuck, never call me that again.” His face had morphed into a scowl as you used his last name. He never liked hearing you call him anything other than Satoru. “Fine.” you crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling the cool air. “I think I’m gonna go shower and maybe make something small for dinner… Just so Shoko doesn’t string the two of us up on a lamppost.” Satoru nodded, watching you step off the ledge and move about the roof to put the blankets away. 

“I’ll accompany you.” he jumped down, trailing behind you as you moved to open the door that would bring you downstairs. “In the shower? I’m flattered but–” the way his eyes rolled were enough to stop you mid-sentence. “Joking, Satoru.” he sighed out an “I know” closing the distance to haul you up. “Using the stairs is boring.” Within the blink of an eye, you were back inside and standing in front of your dorm room. 

“Text me when you’re done showering and we can go get food.” 

You nodded, one of the perks of attending school in Tokyo was the fact that the city never slept. You could go find a place to eat at three in the morning and they’d still serve you hot food. Your body sagged against the door of your dorm after shutting it. Flicking on the lights lit the room in a warm, golden glow. For the last three years you considered your room a sanctuary, it was your happy place after a long day of training. Now, it feels oddly cold. 

You walked over to your dresser, pulling the top drawer open to grab a fresh pair of underwear and pajamas for after. You tossed them on your bed, reaching down for your bottom drawer to grab a particular towel you liked. It didn’t take you long to put your hair up, not in the mood to wash it just yet, and head to the bathroom. You squinted a bit as the nearly white fluorescent lights filled the room, if you had your way you’d change them to something softer. 

It took all of five seconds for your world to come crashing down around you again, eyes zeroing in on the pregnancy test sitting on your counter. I fucking forgot about it…

You set your towel down on the counter, holding your breath as you took the step and reached for the test. You gave yourself no time to prepare, eyes scanning the results once before it hit you like a ton of bricks. You dropped it, letting it clatter on the porcelain counter as a jagged sob ruptured from your chest. Your hand came up to cover your mouth, the other resting on your chest, your heart thumping so wildly you were certain it would burst. 

There, on the test, were two lines. It was positive. 

You nearly fell forward, dropping down to the trash can beside your sink and rummaging through it without hesitation. Your fingers wrapped around the plastic test from this morning, yanking it up and looking at the results again. There, on the initial test from that morning, were two lines. You didn’t drop it this time, eyes staring at the results as if they’d change. Positive, this whole time it had been positive. You just hadn’t let the first test develop long enough. 

“When… How…” You uttered softly, the logical part of your brain screaming at you to be realistic for a second rather than acting so surprised. The irrational side of your brain was still reeling from the revelation. As if Suguru hadn’t been adamant in trying to knock you up for months. “You fucking bastard… you get your way and leave me with the aftermath.” You were struggling, there was no way you’d be able to pinpoint when it happened until you found out how far along you were. For some reason, that was what made reality really set in. 

Hot tears streaked your face, sobbing so harshly that it felt like your lungs would collapse on you. You moved in a blur, legs carrying you out of your dorm and down the hall until you were pushing open Satoru’s door. “Woah there, sounds like someone’s hun…” He looked up, the teasing tone in his voice dropping immediately when he saw the tears streaming down your face. “What the fuck happened? Are you hurt?” Satoru crossed the room in two long strides, hands cupping your face as your lips wobbled. 

You couldn’t get the words out, crying harder as he ran his hands over you searching for some type of wound. “C’mon, what happened?” His tone had more of a bite to it than he intended but you were causing panic to seep through his veins. You couldn’t breathe, legs nearly buckling under the weight of your reality. Satoru seemed to catch this, hands shooting out to support you as he brought both of you to the floor. “Y/N, please.” he urged you, throat feeling tight. 

You shook your head, still sobbing as you raised your hand meekly, the positive pregnancy test out in the open for him to see. Blue eyes widened significantly when he saw it, he didn’t even need to see the two lines to understand why you were so hysterical. “Oh…oh.” he swallowed, hand shakily taking the test from your hand to look at it. “Oh fuck.” it was just barely above a whisper, arm holding you just a little tighter as you cried into his chest. 

At least part of you was aware of the possibility, Satoru on the other hand felt completely blindsided. “You two didn’t use protection?” He uttered softly, rocking you slightly without thinking as your cries continued, you couldn’t think at that moment, unable to calm yourself down. You managed to shake your head in response, unable to feel embarrassed as you admitted to not using condoms when with Suguru. “Fuck… did you ever use protection with him?” 

He knew the answer, of course he fucking knew the answer. Suguru was utterly obsessed with you, so in love it was nearly nauseating. You shook your head again, confirming that you’d never once used protection with him. “Hey… c’mon…” he started softly when your body shook with the force of your cries but you were no longer making any sounds. He wanted to say it would be alright but he wasn’t sure if it would be. 

That answer relied on you. 

He couldn’t expect you to be alright, you had your heart broken three weeks prior by the man who often talked about proposing to you as soon as you all graduated. If those were the kind of conversations Suguru was having with him, he couldn’t imagine the conversations Suguru had been having with you. Well, that was a bit of a lie. Considering your reaction to the test results, it seemed this was a long sought after goal. Your cries were from heartbreak, not fear. 

~

“I’ve been looking at rings.” Satoru glanced up, noodles dangling half way from his lips. “Hah?” He watched Suguru grimace a bit, some broth splattering as Satoru questioned him. “I’ve been looking at rings for Y/N.” Suguru stated again, a little more cautiously now, watching Satoru slurp the rest of the noodles into his mouth. “Suguru, we haven’t even entered our third year.” 

“I know, but…” he shrugged, unable to formulate the right way to say it. “...But? You’re not even eighteen yet, neither is she.” It wasn’t that Satoru didn’t think it was okay, he just figured you were both way too young to even fathom those things. “I don’t intend on proposing to her until we’ve graduated. Listen I know it seems fast but…” Suguru's hands fidgeted with his utensils for a moment, eyes avoiding Satoru until he was ready.

“I love her, Satoru. I didn’t even think it was possible to love someone as much as I love her.” 

Satoru blinked, a bit taken back by such a bold declaration over a bowl of cheap ramen. “I’m not doubting that you love her, Suguru. I just think it’s a bit crazy to think about these things so young.” Suguru sighed, watching Satoru with weary eyes as he moved to eat more noodles. 

“We’re sourcers, Satoru. A long life isn’t guaranteed.” 

~

“Breathe, please. You’re going to pass out.” Satoru’s hand was slapping your back as you coughed, the tears had finally begun to slow but you still weren’t able to form a coherent sentence. “Please…” he tried again, watching you try your best to take a deep breath. It was followed by another, this time it wasn’t superficial. After a couple more, you were able to rub the tears from your eyes and look at him without blurry vision. 

“S-satoru I’m so so-sorry.” you hiccuped, your throat feeling raw from your crying. “You have nothing to apologize for, stop feeling like you have to apologize for everything you do.” he let you go a bit, motioning for you to get up with him and sit on his bed rather than the floor. He watched you crawl under his covers, curling up against his pillows, sniffling softly. Despite the weight of the conversation you were about to have, Satoru couldn’t help but chuckle. 

He crawled onto his bed as well, sitting beside you but above the covers. “So… I guess the best place to start is… how did this happen. By that I mean, was it intentional?” You sighed, toying with the end of his pillow case as you spoke. “Suguru had been trying to get me pregnant for months now.” You felt warmth flood your cheeks, it felt awkward admitting something like that. “I knew the bastard had a breeding kink.” Satoru said it more to himself than you, but that didn’t stop the shrill yell of his name as you slapped his arm. 

“I’m being honest! He just seemed like the type.” Satoru shrugged, holding back laughter as you rolled your eyes and settled back into sulking. “I shouldn’t be so blindsided by this, but it’s fucking ironic that he got what he wanted after he fucking left me… us.” you corrected softly, feeling selfish for being so focused on yourself when Satoru was hurting too. “The universe knows how to play cruel jokes, I’ve thought that my whole life. But, that’s beside the point. We can’t sit here and sulk over it, we need to talk about what to do next.” 

You looked up at Satoru, eyes red from crying. It hurt his heart, you looked like a kicked puppy. In that moment he realized how heavily he relied on Suguru, because even now he found himself itching to grab his phone and call him for advice. What was worse, you were now looking to him for help, when really he was just as scared as you. “The next logical step is I need to find a doctor who can run a blood test and confirm the store bought tests are accurate. After that, they need to tell me how far along I am so I can pinpoint when this happened.”

Satoru nodded, you’d both have to fill in Shoko in the morning, she’d be able to help with all the medical bits. “I… I know this seems a bit invasive so please don’t take offense… but are you going to keep it?” Satoru fidgeted a bit, eyes watching as you seemed to zone out and think. Your initial answer was yes, of course, but were you really capable of raising a baby on your own? Then again, you didn’t think you could stomach giving them away for adoption, and you certainly didn’t want to get rid of them. Not after you chased this goal for months, regardless of the way things were right now. “Yeah, as terrifying as it is, I want this baby, Satoru.” 

“Okay, so we got two of the biggest things out of the way. Now, the hardest…” you huffed as he trailed off, you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to answer the next question. “What do we do about Suguru, that’s what you’re going to say, right?” It was Satoru’s turn to huff now, nodding as he looked away from you to stare at his hands.

“He… he needs to know.” 

“No the fuck he doesn’t.” 

You both stared at each other, completely scandalized by the other’s response. “Satoru… He needs to know… he…he’s the fucking dad? How am I supposed to jus–” Satoru shook his head, hands coming up to rub his face before letting them fall back to his lap. “Suguru is a fucking criminal now, he murdered people. Hundreds of people I should fucking remind you and you just want to waltz back into his fucking life and tell him that shit?” You sat up now, eyes burning holes into his skull as you waited for him to at least look at you. “Do you hear yourself?” 

You were seething, that same anger you held for Suguru leaving was now bubbling at Satoru for uttering his name like it was pure filth. Satoru stiffened, eyes turning to glare at you. But, every ounce of anger seemed to drain from his body when he saw nothing but hurt glowing in your tired and puffy eyes. “I fucking get it, Satoru. I know what Suguru did but fuck, how am I supposed to just get over him? How am I supposed to carry his child for nine months and push it out of my body just to raise it on my fucking own and never tell him? He’s the one that wanted this in the first place!” Tears glossed your eyes over, hands shaking as they fisted in his sheets.

His mouth opened before closing again, eyes looking away from you because he knew he'd never be able to try and talk sense into you when you looked at him like that. “And what if the child is unable to see curses?” he sounded defeated. “What then, Y/N? What if you give birth to this baby and they lack the ability to see them? That baby would be the very thing Suguru hates.” You froze, it felt like someone had poured ice water down the back of your neck. “If he didn’t spare his own parents, he won’t spare his own child.” Satoru swallowed, looking like he wanted to say so much more but didn’t. He let the words hang there, heavy and dark. 

The silence stretched on between the two of you, mostly because you knew he was right. Just because both parents had the ability to see into the curse world and use curse energy, it didn’t guarantee that their offspring would also carry the same blessing. You blinked, hand subconsciously moving to rest over your stomach, as if it would do anything to protect them. “Suguru he… he wouldn’t…” Your words were weak and at that moment Satoru couldn’t bring himself to really fight with you. “But he would, y/n that’s the fucking issue, he would.” his voice was breaking, unsure if he should say what he wanted to say next. 

“Then what am I going to do?” You were going to dissolve, tears burning your eyes again as the harsh reality began to sink in. “Let me help you, let me help you raise the baby. I can easily provide for the two of you.” He turned to look at you now, eyes burning with such intensity it stole the air from your lungs. “What?” you hadn’t meant for it to sound offended, you were shocked to say the least, but still the hurt that flashed through his features made you feel the urge to reach out and hug him. “Satoru I didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh…” You moved forward, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and hugging him. 

It took a second but his arms came up to wrap around your middle, holding you tightly. “It’s okay, it was a bold statement to make so suddenly.” he soothed you when really you felt that you  should be the one soothing him. “No it’s fine, really it just caught me by surprise and…” you hugged him a little tighter, burying your face in his neck. For a moment you nearly stiffened, that was something you usually did to seek comfort from Suguru. In that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, finding comfort in Satoru’s reassuring embrace. “You don’t have to answer me tonight.” He hushed you, hand coming up to smooth your hair as he kept you close. “I doubt you have an appetite now, how about we just sleep?” 

“I still need to shower.” You pulled away, laughing softly when you remembered what you had been in the process of doing before your world flipped. “Okay, then go and shower but please come back to me when you’re done.” His tone was quiet, something in it held no room for you to disagree. So, you let go of him reluctantly, nodding as you crawled over him to stand. “Again, you don’t have to answer me tonight, or tomorrow, or even next week. But please, think about what I said.” He stayed on his bed, watching you shakily grab the pregnancy test before heading for his door. “I will, Satoru. Keep my spot warm.” you smiled at him over your shoulder, heart still heavy as you disappeared through the open door. 

The hot water on your skin wasn’t enough to wash away the dread growing in your chest. You found your hands absentmindedly running along your abdomen, still finding it hard to believe something was there, something that would grow into a living breathing human in a few months time. A mix of you and Suguru, how strange. This wasn’t how you imagined it would happen, nor were these the feelings you expected to experience when the time came. If anything, it made you more upset. You should be happy, you should be fucking estatic. You should be basking in the euphoric state of knowing you’d be having a child with the man you adored. 

Instead, you had sobbed in the arms of his best friend, completely hysterical. And the man you loved had no idea you were even pregnant, that the very thing he wanted had been achieved and he wouldn’t even get to know. At least not yet. You had taken Satoru’s words into consideration, of course you did. But in the back of your mind, you knew there was no way you’d be able to go on with your life without ever telling Suguru. He would know, he would know of his child, you were already set on that. You twisted the knob, the water turning off a second later as you got out and dried yourself off a bit before wrapping the towel around you. 

Your body was aching from the events of the last few hours. Returning to Satoru’s room and sleeping in his warm bed sounded like heaven to you. Sleeping next to someone again felt like heaven to you. You had to wonder what Suguru would think if he knew you were sharing his best friend’s bed – albeit nothing sexual was occuring between the two of you. And even then, Suguru had broken up with you in that letter, you were technically no longer his. The thought made you feel sick as you reached for the clothing you had laid on your bed. You pulled the shorts on first, reaching for the oversized shirt second, trying to ignore the nausea building in your gut. 

You moved around your room without thinking, flicking the lights off before heading out the door and back down the hall. Satoru had changed into his own pajamas, hair damp from the shower he must have taken while you went to take yours. He only had his bedside lamp on, the pace beside him vacant and waiting for you. “Are you sure you don’t want food?” he questioned softly as you shut the door behind you. “I’ll eat a good breakfast if my morning sickness allows.” Those words felt foreign, referring to your nausea as morning sickness felt so bizarre. “Alright but if you wake up in the middle of the night starving don’t hesitate to wake me up.”

You laughed softly, huffing out an “okay” as you crawled over him and under the covers once more. Satoru pulled the blankets up over both of you before reaching over and flicking off the light. “Goodnight.” he spoke softly, settling into his bed as you rolled onto your side to get comfortable. “Night, Satoru.” You whispered back, eyes already feeling heavy, the comfort his bed offered was no match for the gnawing reality you were facing. For now, you were thankful for it. 

~

“Think fast!” You laughed, hurtling one of the poles directly in Satoru’s direction. He turned, using infinity to block it just before it hit his face. “Nice! Your reflexes are getting faster.” You picked up another weapon, Suguru was watching you intently, an easy smile on his face. “Sugu!” You called, aiming to throw another pole. “Think fast.” you repeated, arm going back before using every ounce of strength to beeline it straight at him. Suguru smiled, summoning a curse easily to deflect it. “Not bad.” you winked, watching him roll his eyes as the curse disappeared.

“Y’all are gross.” Satoru drawled, pushing his glasses up his nose. “We didn’t even say anything?” Suguru countered, stepping out of the shade and into the sun. “You don’t need to say anything, the tension is almost unbearable.” Shoko chimed, twirling her lighter around her fingers as she watched the three of you. This time you couldn’t help but laugh, letting Suguru close the distance and wrap an arm around your waist. “See, gross!” Satoru sighed dramatically as you kissed Suguru’s cheek. “It’s called being in love, something you wouldn’t get, Satoru.” You stuck your tongue out at him, laughing as he rolled his eyes. 

“Well if you’re gonna be all gross and lovey with one another, go do it in private.” 

“Okay.” 

You and Suguru spoke in unison, a shrill laugh leaving you as he bent down and hauled you up and over his shoulder. Naturally Shoko faked a gagging noise, watching as he carried you away with a smile. “They’re so gross.” Satoru commented again, eyes following the two of you until you were completely out of sight. Though, he couldn't deny the small smile tugging at his lips. 

“Suguru.” you slapped his back lightly, he was still carrying you over his shoulder even after entering the dorm buildings. “Hmm?” he paid you no mind as he climbed the stairs, his end destination would be your dorm room… more specifically your bed. “You can put me down now.” You knew he wouldn’t, so you opted for running your hands along his back, feeling his steps falter for a moment before composing himself. “I’ll put you down when I’m good and ready.” 

You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his ass. “Alright, that's it. You’re getting punished.” His words were very matter-of-fact, so much so that you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Okay dad.” Suguru didn’t miss a beat, stalking down the hallway towards your dorm room. “Yeah, I’m trying to become one so it would help me out if you cooperated.” You made a strangled noise, it had been three weeks since Suguru admitted to wanting to get you pregnant. Needless to say, he wasn’t giving up any time soon. 

“You just want a reason to fuck me.” You tried to counter, jumping a bit as he pushed into your dorm room and kicked the door closed behind him. “I don’t need a reason to fuck you, baby.” You couldn't describe the noise you made, whiplash taking over as he tossed you onto your bed. “I guess that’s true…” You pushed up on your elbows, watching him pull his white shirt up and over his head, knocking his hair out of his bun in the process. “You’ll be good for me right?” He was dropping to his knees before you, a gentle plea of his name leaving your lips.

“Atta girl.” he murmured, warm fingers hooking in the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down. You watched him with parted lips, watching the way his eyes observed you. “Already wet? How fucking filthy.” his hands splayed along your thighs, pushing them wide open so he could really look at you. “Just because I picked you up? Or maybe it was from wrapping my arms around your waist?” He teased, pulling one hand from your thigh to spread your cunt open instead. “Tell me, pretty girl… what has you so worked up already?” 

“All of it.” You’re breathless as you look at him, no shame in your eyes as you admit how badly you want him. Suguru smiled, fingers keeping you spread as he watched the arousal pool at your entrance. “All of it, hmm? I make you that horny?” His tone was light but the look in his eyes was anything but. You could feel him devouring you whole. “Yeah, you fucking do.” You tried to keep your hips still, praying he’d do something other than watch you grow wetter by the second. “Tell me something, would you?” he pulled his eyes away to meet yours. 

“Anything.” You comment softly, waiting to hear what he had to say. Suguru smiled, fighting the urge to reach up and tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.” His voice was barely a whisper, pupils blown wide as he looked at you. You audibly groan, face feeling warm as your head falls back. “Eat me out, Suguru.” You drawl, no longer embarrassed by the things he makes you say. “As you wish.” He couldn’t even tease you for such an honest answer. Suguru’s head dipped lower, tongue licking up your inner thighs, teeth grazing the skin eagerly. 

“Sugu…” You whined out, his lips growing closer to your aching cunt. “... can I suck you off after?” 

Suguru’s whole body jolted as you uttered those words, mouth moving to lick and suck along your folds as his honest answer. You took that as a yes. You couldn’t help but squirm as his hands began kneading the flesh of your thighs, all the while his tongue was lapping at your cunt. Each movement sent electricity up your spine, one hand shakily reaching out to hold his head as his lips wrapped around your pulsating clit. “Oh fuck… Suguru…” you were embarrassed by how quickly he had learned to make you cum, the pressure already building in your gut. 

He didn’t slow, rather he slipped two fingers into your slick entrance and scissored them in time with his sucking. He loved to put on a show for you, going as far as to slurp your juices just so he could hear you cry out. You couldn’t think straight when his tongue was wiggling against your clit, stopping every few seconds to suck until your back arched. Suguru continued this until he felt your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling harsh as your moans turned into breathy gasps. He pulled away with a slick pop, smiling deviously as your head shot up to glare at him. “Suguru!” You wailed, letting go of his hair angrily. 

“Not yet, I don’t want you coming yet.”  

“No fucking fair!” you whined, head falling back against the mattress in defeat. “So selfish.” Suguru laughed as he pushed himself off the floor, now making a show of pulling the rest of his clothing off. “There goes your chances at getting head.” you chided, watching as that shit eating grin remained on his lips. “You think this is funny!” you whined again, the echoes of your denied orgasm making you close your thighs to try and alleviate the pressure. Suguru watched you, cock throbbing as he kicked his pants off the rest of the way and tossed them to the side. 

“I do think it’s funny, mostly because you look so cute when you’re so worked up.” his hands wrapped around himself, pumping languidly as you spread your thighs again, eager for more. Suguru smirked, always defiant until his cock was out. “Nah baby, I don’t think you deserve this right now.” he continued to stroke himself, head falling back just a bit as his own aching arousal was finally being relieved. “Sugu…” you choked out in a hushed whisper, mouth watering as he let out a breathy sigh, fingers toying with the sensitive tip. You were regretting your earlier statement. 

“Sugu…” you spoke softly, watching him lift one leg to plant his foot on the mattress, hand still gliding along his shaft as his jaw slackened. He ignored you, continuing to get himself off. He was waiting for you to do something, that realization had you pushing yourself up, pulling your shirt up and over your head and tossing it to the ground. You pulled your legs off the side of the bed, maneuvering yourself until you sat on your knees before him. “Let me suck you off.” breathless, hands folded neatly on your lap as you waited for his response. 

Suguru smiled at you, watching the mattress move as your hips squirmed. “I thought you said the chances of me getting head were gone.” he teased, hand massaging just before the head of his cock, making his own voice falter as he spoke to you. “I never said that.” which was kind of true, you didn’t say those exact words. Suguru cocked an eyebrow, unable to maintain his stern demeanor as your tongue moved to wet your lips, eyes completely focused on his fist. “Please, your hand is so boring Suguru, especially when you could have my mouth.” you tried again, eyes sliding up his torso, admiring the dips and plains of his muscles. 

“When you put it like that, it’s hard to say no.” he murmured softly, letting his cock go. You scooted closer, until your knees were nearly off the edge of the mattress. “Thank you.” You whispered softly, watching his face flush a shade of pink, eyes quickly looking away from you to try and regain some sort of composure. The first touch was always enough to make him weak in the knees, your tongue gliding gently over his weeping tip before lowering to the underside of his shaft. He met your eyes, face still flushed as you looked at him with such adoration. All the while your mouth was doing sinful things to him, your duality was enough to induce whiplash. 

His fingers came up to rake through your hair, guiding you as your jaw slackened, head moving to engulf him in the wet heat your mouth had to offer. “Oh fuck…” Suguru choked when you didn’t stop moving, throat constricting as your nose brushed the unruly mess of black hair at his base. You held yourself there, drool dripping down your chin as your cheeks hollowed. Slowly you dragged yourself back, watching the shiny coat of saliva covering his shaft in your wake. You repeated those motions, finding a comfortable place to bob your head at, his length heavy on your tongue. “So good for me… fuck you’re so good for me… I don’t know what I did to deserve you…” 

You merely hummed, ignoring the slow but steady ache building in your jaw as your hand moved along his shaft. You could tell he was starting to really feel it, his cock twitching every few motions, head tilted back as his eyes fluttered shut. You had to admit you were impressed he managed to stay on his feet. Most times, when Suguru dared to eat you out while you were standing, you were nearly a dead weight in his grasp by the end. The only thing keeping you up was the wall he stuffed you against and his shoulders because he tossed your legs over them. You stopped when you felt him twitching violently, jaw clenched tight as his head shot forward to look down at you.

“Gonna make me cum, pretty girl.” He choked out, hands cupping your cheeks to guide you as you moved your head again. Your hands shot out, holding his thighs tightly as you let him use your head how he pleased, guiding you to a pace that made your eyes water before he stilled all together. You forced yourself to relax as Suguru spilled down your throat, letting you greedily swallow all of it before pulling off of him with a lewd pop. “Fuck…” he nearly fell into the bed, dick still hard as he crawled onto the matress with you. “How about we do this…” he sounded breathless, laying on his side and guiding you to do the same. You knew what he wanted, swollen lips parting as you sighed, settling with your back just barely touching his front. 

You let Suguru grab one leg, lifting it up slowly to create enough space for himself. “Lazy boy…” You teased over your shoulder, letting his arm hook under your neck, large hand resting on your chest. “Maybe I am, but you fucking love it.” You couldn’t complain, not when he was angling his hips and pressing the weeping tip of his cock at your entrance. He pressed into you, adjusting both of your bodies until he found a comfortable position to properly rut his hips into you. All you could do is let him, whining loudly as he split you open, stuffing you full. “How’s that, hmm? Does it feel good?” Suguru whispered against your ear, panting as your walls constricted around him and tried to push him out at the very same time. “F-feels so good…so good…” You whined loudly. 

Suguru didn’t give you a verbal response after that, instead focusing all of his attention on finding a good rhythm to fuck you too. You couldn’t stop the noises that spilled past your lips, each drag of his cock in and out of your heat was enough to make your vision blurry. It took everything in you to at least keep your head up, tilted downwards to watch where he disappeared and reappeared between your legs.  “Suguru…” a breathless plea, one that turned into a steady mantra as all you could think about was him and what he was doing to you. Had you not been so overwhelmed you would have heard his quiet grunts of praise each time your bodies connected. 

Suguru watched a shaky hand slide down your front, in your whimpering daze you managed to slip two fingers down there to rub sloppy circles on your clit. “Gonna cum, aren’t ya?” Suguru gasped, his cock twitching violently as your cunt suctioned to him, nearly making his thrusts falter. “Y-yeah…” you managed to get out, no longer having the strength to keep your head up. You let it fall, resting snuggly in the crook of the arm he was using to support you. “Then come for me, pretty girl. I wanna feel you come all over my cock… then maybe I’ll fill you up, yeah? You’d love that…” you responded with a loud whine, walls fluttering around his length each time he pushed it back in. 

“There we go, come for me.” He encouraged again, warm breath ghosting the shell of your ear and earning a shiver in response. You could feel it, the aching build of a damn that was on the verge of breaking, every breath you made was nothing but a labored pant. Your heart was beating erratically, just as you were about to fall over the edge, Suguru gasped. You couldn’t help but gasp with him, his release pumping into you, hot and sticky. “F-fuck sorry…” he grounded out, his own orgasm sneaking up on him and completely catching you by surprise. Not that it mattered to you, that strained and embarrassed apology was all you needed before you felt yourself coming as well. 

You both essentially collapsed, Suguru holding you tightly as he angled himself to remain inside of you, to keep his cum inside of you. “You okay?” he mumbled softly, hand lazily reaching for the one you had used to rub your clit and bring it to your lips. You whined as he popped the shiny fingers in his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue. “Yeah, I'm good…great really.” You chuckled, eyelids feeling heavy as he hummed. “Good.” he mumbled softly, pulling your fingers from his mouth to kiss them gingerly. “You know I love you, right?” Suguru’s voice was tender, so tender it nearly pulled the air out of your lungs. “Yeah, of course I know that Sugu… you know I love you too, right?” 

“I know.” was all he said in reply, you had to wonder why he was suddenly so sentimental. Suguru was typically softer with you after sex, aftercare was one of his specialties. But something about his tone felt different, something about his question felt like there was more meaning behind it. You had been noticing the bags under his eyes for the last few weeks, but every time you asked he always brushed you off. “Is everything okay?” you tried to turn your head to look back at him, but the angle he had you in proved to make movement difficult. “Mmhmm, just want to make sure you’re okay.” but he hadn’t  been that rough with you. “Yeah, I’m okay… but you haven’t answered me.” He stopped kissing your hand, setting it down gently as he moved to kiss your shoulder. 

“I haven’t?” 

“I asked you if you were okay.”

“Well, I did answer you. I said yes.” he didn’t sound offended, more or less he sounded amused. “Mmhmm isn’t a yes, Suguru.” You, on the other hand, sounded a little less enthused. “I’m okay, baby. Is that better.” you couldn’t see it but you could hear the smile on his lips. “Yeah, that’s better.” But for some reason, you couldn’t shake the worry clinging to your heart. 

~

“Hey… hey…” you woke with a gasp, eyes wet as you tried to remember where you were. “You okay? You started crying in your sleep again.” A worried but groggy voice was speaking to you, one that was familiar but your brain couldn’t seem to catch up. “Y/N? It’s me, it’s Satoru.” There it was, you nearly fell back into the pillow with relief as he spoke. “Shit I’m sorry… I was dreaming and it just… fuck it felt so real. I couldn’t remember where I was…” you wiped your eyes, slowly adjusting to the dark room again. “It’s okay… you’ve been dreaming a lot.” Satoru sighed, he remembered you saying that your nights had been pretty dreamless for the last three weeks so why was that changing now? 

“I know… it just started happening too. Maybe it's because of the baby.”

Your hand lowered to your stomach, palm resting flatley against it. You still couldn’t process the fact that there was something in there, something that was growing, a mix of you and him. “Can pregnancy make you dream more?” Satoru chuckled, blue eyes shifting to read his alarm clock. It was just past four in the morning. You had slept pretty well until a few minutes ago. He had been watching you, woken up by your body growing restless. He woke you up the moment he heard you start to sniffle. “I dunno, maybe.” you sighed, eyes feeling heavy again. “Sorry for waking you, Toru.” You didn’t hear the way his breath hitched, your yawn effectively shutting it all out. 

You hadn’t called him by that nickname in weeks, he hadn’t really realized how much he missed it. “Don’t apologize, I told you to stop that.” Not stern, just tired, he wanted you to go back to normal but he knew that was impossible. Things would never go back to how they were. “Oh, yeah… I guess you have told me that.” You chuckle, turning on your side to face him in the dark. “I won’t apologize for forgetting this time, okay?” You grinned, eyes closing and unaware that he was able to see it in the dark. “Okay.” He sighed, a grin creeping up his own face as he let his eyes shut again. Hopefully you’d sleep through to his alarm at 8:30am, you had a busy day ahead. 

~END OF PART ONE~

Thank you for reading! I hope you look forward to part 2 <3333

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