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stllmnstr · 2 months

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sacred monsters: part one

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, vampire au, slow burn

part one word count: 19.3k

part one warnings: swearing, blood and all sorts of other vampire-y things, semi graphic descriptions/depictions of violence, I don't know anything about publishing and wrote about it anyway, not quite as much in this part, but I want to forewarn you that while there is still nothing explicit, we do get a little ~sexier~ than most stllmnstr fics

note/disclaimer: I have been itching to write an enha vampire fic for ages because hello? the material is RIGHT THERE!! this is a story I'm super excited about, and it's definitely gotten me out of my comfort zone. in order to help build this world, I did draw from some outside sources. primarily, a lot of the vampire lore and some plot elements are inspired by the dark moon webtoon series. I did also pull some things from twilight and other well-known vampire myths. lastly, there is a section with "poetry" in it. these "poems" are translated lyrics from still monster, chaconne, and lucifer by enhypen. some are in their original form and some I altered slightly. everything else is straight from yours truly! as always, happy reading ♡

soundtrack: still monster / moonstruck / lucifer - enhypen / everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears / immortal - marina / supermassive black hole - muse / saturn - sleeping at last / everybody’s watching me (uh oh) - the neighbourhood

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A literature student in your third year of university, you’ve been dreaming of having your writing published for as long as you can remember. With a perfect opportunity dangling at your fingertips, the only obstacle that stands in your way comes in the form of a ridiculously tall, stupidly handsome, and unfortunately, very talented writer by the name of Lee Heeseung. Unwilling to let your dream slip out of reach, you commit to being better than the aforementioned pain in your ass at absolutely everything.

But when a string of vampire attacks strikes close to your city for the first time in nearly two hundred years, publishing is suddenly the last thing on your mind. And, as you soon begin to discover, Heeseung may not quite be the person you thought he was.

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The last sip of your coffee tastes bitter on your tongue. Acidic, like it was left to brew too long. Or maybe not long enough. Your limited knowledge of coffee extends to its effects on your alertness and little else.

Taste has always been an afterthought, something of little consequence. Besides, some bitterness is to be expected when you take your coffee black.

Suppressing the small wince that always follows your final sip, you set the reusable thermos down on your desk. Next to your open notebook and favorite ballpoint pen, it settles in nicely with your other class essentials.

Call it poetic or romantic or unbearably pretentious, but you actually do prefer to take your notes by hand. Partly because it feels more fitting for a literature major and mostly because your laptop is on its last leg and between tuition and rent, you don’t exactly have the funds to shell out for a new one.

Frowning at the bitter taste that still lingers on your tongue, you feel another pang of regret for forgetting to pack your water bottle this morning. But no matter. Today is a day for optimism. The bitterness now only means that your imminent victory will taste that much sweeter in comparison.

Because today is the last day of the fall semester of your third year. Which means that this is the last morning you’ll be sitting here in this lecture hall in the minutes preceding 9 am.

Which means that today is the day of your professor’s long awaited announcement. You still remember the day, nearly four months ago, when he first told the entire room of undermotivated, overcaffeinated students about it.

A publishing opportunity. A real, actual publishing opportunity. Something most literature students would sell their soul for.

Because Professor Kim, while a rather mediocre professor who prefers to dish out criticism and bite back praise, has an excellent eye for great writing. So much so that nearly twenty years ago, he founded his very own publishing house.

Known by the name New Haven Publishing, it’s a small operation that deals mostly in short pieces that are marketed more for niche literary circles than mass public appeal. Being published by New Haven may not be a straight shot to the New York Times’ Best Sellers List, but it’s still professional publishing.

And a week into classes, he announced that for the first time ever, he would be choosing one of you to not only intern at New Haven the following semester, but also to publish an original piece of short fiction with them.

You’ve been fantasizing about it for months now. You can already imagine it. A piece of your very own, marketed and edited by professionals. Published and complete with Professor Kim’s stamp of approval.

It’s what you’ve been craving ever since you decided to switch paths and pursue literature studies at the end of your first semester. It’s everything you’re sure you need. Validation that your writing is good, that your words are worth reading.

Hell, maybe it will even earn you the approval of your parents.

And, perhaps most satisfying of all, you will have officially beaten Lee Heeseng once and for all. You don’t want to speak poorly of the rest of your classmates and their writing abilities, but this has always been a competition between you and him.

Or, at least, it has been for you.

It’s the last day of the semester, and honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if Heeseung still had a hard time remembering that the internship was even happening. Then again, you wouldn’t exactly be shocked if he couldn't remember your name, either.

And if you were hard pressed to choose only one thing, that would probably be what annoys you the most about him. Not the way his hair is alway somehow perfectly mussed. Not the way his writing is painfully beautiful and poetic that you swell green with envy just thinking about it.

No, the root cause of your infinite ire when it comes to Lee Heeseung is how damn aloof he is. Like his classmates and professors and even his greatest rival aren’t worth the effort of remembering.

And it’s not like it’s because he’s got some kind of crazy social life outside of academics. Other than mandatory discussion groups, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him so much as talk to anyone.

But that’s just the way he is, you suppose.

Perfect Heeseung with his perfect hair and his perfect writing and perfect attendance record doesn’t need anyone but himself—

Wait.

Perfect attendance record.

Glancing at the clock mounted high above the front door of the lecture hall, you can hardly believe what you’re seeing.

8:59.

There’s no way. There’s no fucking way that the universe is rooting for you this hard, that the stars are aligning this perfectly.

Despite your doubts, the second hand continues its onward march. You suppress the sudden urge to bounce your leg in a matching rhythm.

He has five seconds.

Four. Three. Two. One.

And it’s official. A ridiculous amount of pent up tension drains from your shoulders as your spine straightens. You can’t believe it was that easy.

A semester of agonizing over every word, every sentence, every assignment you handed in for this class. A semester of panicking over missed buses and waking up way too early just to make sure you always beat the clock.

But today is the day where everything comes to a head.

And Lee Heeseung is officially late.

Professor Kim, at the beginning of the semester, had only two pieces of advice to offer his students that were suddenly all gunning for a shot at being published:

One: “Don’t make me read awful writing.”

And two: “Don’t be late to class. I have zero tolerance for tardiness.”

Heeseung has just broken a cardinal rule. One row down, nine seats to the left from where you sit. It’s the place that would usually be filled with an annoyingly broad set of shoulders and distractingly sharp jawline. In fact, Heeseung usually beats you here most days. Not that you’re keeping track, of course. And not that it matters.

Because this morning, this fateful morning, that particular seat, his seat, is glaringly, gloriously empty.

Your eyes flicker over to it again without your permission. But you can’t help it. You’re so antsy now, teeming with self-satisfied excitement. It’s almost unbelievable actually. A golden stroke of luck that he chose today, of all days, to be late.

In fact, you think the more you stare at the empty seat, Lee Heeseung is such a reliable presence that the entire lecture hall suddenly seems a bit off kilter. Tilted too far in some precarious state of imbalance.

Your smugness is still there, yes, but now there’s also a heavy feeling beginning to settle at the bottom of your gut. Why on earth is Lee Heeseung late?

You’re so distracted by his absence, the endless loop of possibilities and explanations running through your mind, that you almost miss the second abnormality of the morning.

Because now the clock reads 9:04, and Heeseung isn’t the only one missing.

All at once, your attention is on the podium at the front of the lecture hall. It’s empty, too. And Professor Kim may be a hardass, but he’s no hypocrite. Never once throughout this entire semester has he ever begun a class even a millisecond late.

Frowning, you pull out your phone to confirm that the clock on the wall is not playing tricks on you. Maybe there was a power outage or something, and maintenance hasn’t had time to correct it yet.

But your phone screen lights up, and 9:05 is the time that stares back at you.

Glancing around, no one else seems too particularly bothered by this. There are a few titters, a few annoyed grumbles that sound like hypocrite and double standard where they reach your ears.

But still, the clock ticks forward.

The minute hand has fallen another two notches when the front door finally opens, Professor Kim striding in unhurried. Despite his lateness, his steps are steady, even. There’s nothing frantic or apologetic about the way he sets his briefcase down next to the podium, pulling out his laptop and a small stack of notes before clearing his throat.

As the students around you fall silent, class begins as it always does. Other than the time, nothing is out of the ordinary.

But your spirits are still high, and you figure you can cut your professor some slack. Maybe he ran into a bad bit of traffic or spilled coffee all over his shirt. Maybe he’s too embarrassed to draw more attention to his error and has decided that not acknowledging it at all is the best course of action.

Oh, well. It’s no use ruminating on it now. Settling back into your seat, you do your best to focus your attention on the front of the room and not that damn empty chair. But the distraction isn’t necessary for long.

The clock is just striking 9:12 when a second late arrival draws the eyes of the class to the front door of the lecture hall. Like your professor, Heeseung maintains a certain air of composedness as he makes his way towards his seat wordlessly.

There’s a moment, a fraction of a second, where Professor Kim pauses, letting a sentence drift into silence.

Twelve minutes late. It’s a rookie mistake. For a fleeting moment, you almost feel bad for him. Because surely Professor Kim is about to make an example of him. No one walks into his lectures late and leaves unscathed.

Wincing, you remember a handful of weeks ago when a poor girl that sits a few rows behind you arrived late. Not only had Professor Kim stopped the entire flow of his lecture to draw attention to her tardiness, he had also assigned her an extra short story for homework. One on the merits of punctuality.

But the ebb in the lecture begins to flow again, the moment passing as soon as it comes. Heeseung settles into his chair. Your professor resumes his sentence.

For the remainder of the class, you do your best to pay attention, but you’re having trouble finding a point. It’s not like he can assign homework or an exam or a discussion on the last day of the semester.

Like you, most of your peers are fully zoned out, just waiting for him to get to what everyone has been dying to know for months.

Who’s interning at New Haven? Who’s getting published?

But distractions in this class have never been hard to come by. More than once, you find your wandering gaze drifting to the back of Heeseung’s head. Usually, you’d be bitterly admiring how soft his hair looks. But today, there’s only one question that plays in your mind as you stare.

What on earth happened that made perfect Lee Heeseung late?

Your thoughts are only interrupted by the sudden shuffle of small movement around you as everyone sits up a bit straighter in their seats.

“Ah,” Professor Kim glances at the time. “That wraps up our semester, then. As promised, I would like to announce the student who will be interning with New Haven Publishing this upcoming semester. And, of course, the student that will have the opportunity to publish an original piece with us.”

He pauses for a moment, looking down at his notes. You wonder if the people sitting close to you can hear the way your heart pounds in your chest.

Please be me. Please be me. Please be me.

The rushing in your ears is so loud that you almost miss it. But not quite. Because the sound of your own name is something you’d recognize anywhere.

Because it was your name that he said. Not anyone else’s. Not Heeseung’s.

You. You did it.

You’re officially going to be interning with New Haven. You’re going to be published.

When he asks you to stay a minute after class to discuss the details, it’s all you can do to nod. Butterflies are still scattered in your stomach.

As the rest of the students begin to file out, you pack up your materials with hands that shake slightly. It doesn’t feel real. It feels too good to be true. You poured your everything into this all semester long, and now it’s actually happening.

Your mind is a mess, and an erratic movement almost sends your empty thermos flying. Luckily, you snap out of it long enough to catch it before it hits the ground. With everything packed back into your bag, you make your way down to the podium on slightly unsteady feet.

A handful of passing classmates congratulate you on their way out, and you smile in return.

You’ve almost made it to the front of the lecture hall when a body blocks your path. It takes a moment for your brain to register the identity of the offender. And once it does, it spits his name with venom. Heeseung.

Oblivious and self-centered as always, he nearly knocks you over. Rolling your eyes, you move to step around him. Apparently whatever gift he was given for writing doesn’t extend to his spatial awareness or consideration for others.

But as you lean to the left, he follows the movement, still in your path. Your gaze snaps up, eyebrows raised when you find him already looking at you.

Oh. So it’s not a spatial awareness problem, then. He’s in your way on purpose.

As always, his expression is infuriatingly blank. You can’t get any sort of read on him, and it unnerves you. Irritates you. Here he is, blocking your path, and the only thing he has to offer you is an empty, silent stare.

You could just say excuse me, force your way around him, and be done with it. You should. The semester is over, your professor’s decision is made, and you have no stake left in this game.

But you’ve been biting back snarky comments and masking irritated expressions with mild indifference for months. The nerve he has to block you. The utter gall of it all. To physically stand in your way when he’s been your metaphorical obstacle to success all semester.

When every time you look at him, you still remember that one sunny afternoon, early in the semester. The time you tried, actually tried to be his friend. When he waved you off like a buzzing fly that was nothing more than a nuisance.

You inhale, weighing your options. His head tilts slightly at the movement, and it’s your last straw.

There’s poison in your voice when you bite, “Oh, what? Now that I’ve proved myself, you can spare some time out of your day to talk to me?”

Heeseung’s eyes widen, lips parting slightly. It’s the most emotion you’ve ever seen from him, and he’s wasting it on shock. As if he can’t quite comprehend why the girl he’s been giving headaches for months might not want to stop and have a friendly chat with him. Not that you imagine he’d even be capable of that if you tried.

Already, you regret your comment. In a perfect world, you wouldn’t have said anything. You’d be just as detached and cold and aloof as he was on that day you hate to think about. You still remember it like it was yesterday. Without your permission, the memory floats front and center to your mind.

It was warmer, then. The last clutches of summer were still holding on tight. Sunlight was bright in the sky, and it felt like a good time to breach the barrier of your comfort zone.

Class had just ended. Usually, Heeseung was one of the first to leave. You had to pack up abnormally quickly just to catch him in the quad right outside the lecture hall.

But you did catch up to him.

And in a voice braver than you felt, you asked, “Hey, it’s Heeseung, right?”

You’d been brighter, then. Still full of an energy you haven’t been able to muster since midterms. Not yet burdened by the weight of assignments and rejection, your disposition was as sunny as the sky above.

Heeseung hadn’t bothered to dignify your question with an actual answer, but he had at least stopped walking, and that seemed like an invitation at the time. Now, with the power of hindsight, you wince. You should have spared yourself the regret.

You remember watching as he pulled out his earbuds, tucking them back into his pocket before turning his attention to you. Or at least half of it. Even then, you never felt like he was truly looking at you, hearing you. His mind always seemed off in the distance, preoccupied somewhere you could never quite reach.

You recall being nervous, heat in your cheeks as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes tracked the movement like a cat tracks a ray of sunlight. Lazily, intently. With an energy you weren’t quite sure what to do with.

Instead, you had stuttered, “I, uh, I wanted to tell you that I thought your analysis today was brilliant.” The worst part is that it really was a brilliant analysis. Although you’d never admit that today, and much less to his face.

Instead, you cringe just thinking about it. You should have taken his blank stare as a sign. You should have just let the one-sided conversation die there. With at least a little dignity and some of your pride left to spare.

But you hadn’t.

“I never thought about the use of sunlight as a metaphor for life. I mean, now that you’ve pointed it out, it seems kind of obvious.” The memory of your nervous giggles settle like rocks in your stomach. “Anyway, I feel like I’m rambling, but if you ever want to get together and look through assignments or review each other’s analyses, I’d love to—”

You’d heard his voice before, of course. In class discussions and presentations. But never this close. And never directed at you.

He kept it short, his interruption, his response to your shaky offer.

“I’m busy.”

And that was it. Two words. Two fucking words. And not even an explanation or an I’m sorry or a sheepish expression to go along with them.

With that, you’d watched, a bit helplessly, as he pulled his earbuds out of his pocket, put them back into his ears and turned away from you before you could realize just how thoroughly you’d been rejected.

With a sudden haze in the air and hope dying in your heart, your friendly smile slipped into confused dismay as you watched him track a steady path across the quad.

If your cheekbones felt warm before, you were sure they must have been aflame by then. After all, it was your body’s natural response to the crushing weight of the embarrassment and thoroughly bruised ego he’d left you there standing with.

Fine then, you’d resolved after walking as quickly as you could in the opposite direction, sending a prayer to the heavens that no one from your class had just witnessed the most mortifying interaction you’ve ever had. If Lee Heeseung wanted nothing to do with you, the feeling could be mutual.

In fact, it was probably for the best. You were vying for that internship and if the past class discussions were anything to go by, Heeseung would be your only real competition. If he was too busy for you, then you would just have to be too busy for him.

Too busy perfecting every assignment and acing every exam. Too busy drowning in dictionaries and thesauruses and reference materials to make sure everything you submitted was perfect — no, scratch that — better than perfect.

Too busy to attempt another conversation or interaction or do anything but nod along politely whenever he did make an unfortunately great point in class.

So, no. Heeseung doesn’t get to dictate your time or attention or conversation now that you’ve actually been awarded with a publishing opportunity, now that all of your efforts and dedication and late nights have paid off.

If Lee Heeseung wants a bit of your attention on today of all days, at this moment of all moments, then you’re just going to have to be too busy to entertain him.

Standing in front of you, still blocking your path to the podium, Heeseung has the nerve to look confused. As if you have no reason to give him the cold shoulder. As if you’re the one being unreasonable here.

His brow furrows further. “What?” It’s the third word he’s ever spoken directly to you. It makes your blood boil. “No, I…” he trails off. You can practically see the gears running in his mind, like this wasn’t the conversation he expected to be having. Like he has no idea how to navigate it now. “I was just going to say that you should maybe reconsider.”

Your voice is ice when you ask, “Reconsider what?”

“Well…” He’s treading in dangerous territory, and he seems to realize it too. “The internship,” he clarifies, and it’s the second most insulting thing he’s ever said to your face.

You screw your eyes shut. Cold and detached. Blank and aloof. All the things you should be. But you’ve always run a little hot. And end of the semester exhaustion finds you more willing to throw caution to the wind.

“You have got to be fucking with me.” Eyes reopening, you’re met with that same expression of mild shock. Brows raised, lips parted. And god, he even looks good like that. “Yeah, right. Let me guess, so you can do the internship and publish a piece of your own? If all you came over to do is insult me, then save your breath.”

“What?” He still looks so damn confused. “No, I—”

You don’t want to hear it. “I have nothing to say to you.” If he won’t get out of your way, you’ll just have to go through him. The shoulder check is maybe slightly more intense than it needs to be as you shove your way past him. He barely stumbles back an inch. It makes you want to rip your hair out. “Besides,” you add, not bothering to turn back to look at him. “I’m busy.”

It’s a dig at him, yes, but it’s also true. You are. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, and Lee Heeseung is not about to ruin it for you.

To your unending gratitude, he doesn’t try to intercept you again. Your path to the front of the lecture hall is clear, and Professor Kim is just tucking his laptop back into his briefcase when you reach the podium.

Ultimately, it’s a watered down version of the million times you’ve imagined this moment in your head. Even coming on the tail end of the most annoying interaction you’ve had in months. Professor Kim congratulates you again, and hands you a printed schedule of when you’ll be expected at the publishing office for the first time.

There are also submission dates. Deadlines for you to submit drafts of the piece that you’ll be publishing. You take it all in with a beam and enthusiastic nods, mishap with Heeseung from minutes ago all but forgotten.

That is, until Professor Kim’s gaze lands somewhere over your shoulder after he tells you he’ll also send you a follow-up email with all the information you need.

You watch as his expression shifts, something uneasy, distrustful entering his gaze as he looks beyond you. “Something I can help you with, Mr. Lee?”

Following his gaze, you turn to look behind you. The lecture hall is empty, students cleared out from the class that dismissed nearly five minutes ago. All except for one, that is.

Gone is the shock from Heeseung’s delicately sharp features. Instead, he wears his mask of indifference again, betraying no emotion. You must be imagining the way it looks almost strained this time, as if he’s forcing his expression into neutrality instead of it there of its own accord.

Wordlessly, his gaze shifts to you.

And now it’s your turn to be confused, but you won’t let it last long. At least not outwardly. You’re quick to match his gaze with nothing but pure ire, venom dripping seeping from every inch of your glare.

Is he seriously still trying to ruin this for you? So much for being busy.

“No, sir.” Heeseung shakes his head. He’s addressing your professor, but he’s still looking at you. A muscle ticks in his jaw, betrays a hint of tension. “I was just on my way out.”

True to his word, he begins a steady descent towards the front door.

Your professor clears his throat, turns his attention back to you, resuming the wrap-up of your conversation.

You’re extra grateful for that follow-up email now, given the way movement in your periphery distracts you from Professor Kim’s last few statements. Instead, your focus hones in on the even footsteps that carry Heeseung to the door, allow him to slip through it silently.

It must be a trick of the light, must be a figment of your overworked, over irritated imagination. But you swear you see him linger there, just on the other side of the small glass window carved into the door.

Professor Kim says his parting words, and you thank him one final time. If there’s an unnatural quickness in your footsteps as you turn to leave, you tell yourself that it’s because you’re excited to get started on your draft, not because you have the sneaking suspicion Heeseung is still standing just on the other side of the door.

But you swear that’s his silhouette you see as you draw closer, shrouded in shadows but distinct all the same. You’re debating the merits of shouting at him or maybe accidentally shoulder checking him again as you pull open the door handle, a little more roughly than you intend.

But the only thing that greets you on the other side of the door is a nearly empty hallway, save for the pair of students bent over a laptop a few paces away. You ignore their twin expressions of shock as you let the door fall closed behind you, much more calmly than you opened it.

…..

The blank expanse of your notebook stares at you accusingly.

You’d stare back, if that would somehow make words appear on the page. Sighing, you reach for your long forgotten cup of tea sitting on your desk. Taking a slow sip, you realize it’s gone cold.

That just makes you double down on your frustration. How long have you been sitting here, waiting for inspiration to strike?

People always talk about the merits of a change in scenery, but ever since you started your first semester of university three years ago, your favorite place to write has always been here, at the small, simple desk that sits in the corner of your bedroom.

Back then, writing was a hobby. Something to do when the last of your biochemistry homework was finished. A way to release pent-up stress and tension from long days in the university lab and long hours feeling like you were drowning between all of the extra study sessions, TA workshops, and office hours.

At first, it had been worth it. You maintained high grades and high spirits. Mostly because of the small sprinkles of support your parents showered you with.

Every little You got this! that lit up your phone screen on dreary afternoons and We believe in you! that made your evening lectures a little more bearable felt like tokens of your parents’ affection. Something tangible to show for the care they held for you.

Most of all, you cherished the We’re proud of you messages. You can’t remember the last time you received one.

And it’s not like they were mad, exactly, when you told them you wanted to change majors. They did their best to be supportive in the ways that they knew how.

For your father, that was concern. “Are you sure? Literature? What do the job prospects after graduation look like?”

And for your mother, that was letting you know that she thought you were capable of more. Of better. “It’s not that literature is bad, sweetie. It’s just… Well, you’ve always been such a smart girl…”

You get it; you really do. All the questions and prodding comments that felt like criticism were wrapped in nothing but love. But that didn’t do much to soften the sting.

In the end, it was this desk that made you follow through with your change in major. Slumped in your hand-me-down chair late one Friday night, half finished lab report sitting untouched in your bag, the threat of tears burning at the corners of your eyes, all you wanted to do was write.

To put into words the feelings and emotions and fantasies and frustrations that you could never seem to express otherwise. To commit a piece of your soul to paper and wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was someone else out there who would read it and find a sense of solidarity, of common ground.

You submitted your official change request the next morning. You never regretted it once.

But your parents still make comments, still share their concerns. And for the last three years, you haven’t had anything to show for it except for empty promises. But now, you have something. A real something.

Publishing a story of your own is the exact validation that you need that your choice was the right one. And it’s the proof you need to assuage your parents’ fears, to show them that pursuing literature was the right call. That you can carve out a life for yourself with it.

You’ve fantasized about this for years. For the chance to have your voice heard, your words read. There are a million half-baked thoughts and partially written drafts scattered in your notebooks and digital documents and on the corners of takeout napkins that have been lying in wait for a moment just like this.

But no matter how hard you stare at the page in front of you, the words just won’t come. The more old drafts you scour, the more amateur your writing feels. The more you feel like maybe Heeseung should have won the internship over you.

It’s a miserable cycle your brain works itself into. The less you write, the more you criticize, the more you wonder.

What if he hadn’t been late that morning? What if Professor Kim was hoping to choose him instead? What if the reason he didn’t say anything when Heeseung finally arrived in class was because he was so disappointed that his first choice wasn’t an option anymore?

Groaning out loud to an empty room, your head falls on your desk with a muted thud.

It’s there, facedown on your desk, where an idea strikes you. If you can’t manifest a draft out of thin air, maybe you just need some parameters. A general guide to get the creative juices flowing.

Lifting your head back up, you push your notebook to the side and reach for your laptop. Opening a web browser, you navigate to New Haven Publishing House’s homepage.

It’s a simple website, reflective of its simple namesake. Chin in one hand, you click the link that reads Recently Published.

The list that pops up is modest. Unlike a larger, more corporate publishing house, your professor’s self-made enterprise is churning out new releases at a slower rate and smaller volume.

Perusing the titles and descriptions, you note that the vast majority of the works are short form fiction. There are very few full length novels. The majority is made up of essay and poetry collections, short stories, and memoirs.

Scanning the list again, a title close to the top catches your eye.

The Thirst for Revenge: An Analysis of Contemporary Vampire Activity. It was published less than a month ago.

Your cursor hovers over the link, brow furrowing. It strikes you as odd that something so… archaic would be published so recently.

Professor Kim has always come across as a discerning man. Someone that prides himself on his well curated taste.

But vampires… that’s hardly a headline worthy topic these days.

While most people still practice caution walking down dark alleyways at night and some even go so far as to carry charms infused with garlic cloves, monsters of the night are by and large a thing of the past.

The entire species of bloodthirsty, ravaging immortals were hunted to near extinction almost two hundred years ago. Those that survived relocated to remote areas. Some adapted to life in the countryside by learning to enjoy the taste of animal blood. Others found humans willing to donate small portions of their own blood intermittently. You won’t pretend to understand, but you suppose it’s preferable to the alternative.

Some still hunted in the traditional way, of course, but vampire attacks on humans are few are far between these days. After all, vampires, as a means of survival, have all but forsaken major urban areas. Population density spells demise for their species.

You’d have to confirm through research, but if you remember correctly, the last recorded vampire-related death in your city was nearly two hundred years ago.

Without bothering to click on the link, you continue scrolling down. Honestly, it was probably just a fluke. After all, who knows? Maybe there’s some niche circle out there that enjoys analyzing vampire literature, regardless of how outdated it is.

The next title seems a bit more promising. Shadowless Nights. The brief description marks it as a short story published half a year ago.

You click on it, take a sip of room temperature tea while the page loads.

Night was my favorite time of day, the first line reads.

I loved the stillness of it all, the all encompassing serenity. With the moon in the sky and stars in my eyes, every moment felt like a secret between me and the universe. Something we alone shared.

I whispered secrets to the earth and held hers in return. My days felt like dreams. Distant, blurry, faded. It was only then, in the distinct stillness of midnight, that I truly came alive.

Interesting, you think. It’s a bit more melodramatic than you expected, but maybe your professor prefers a poetic touch.

In the night, I earned peace. And in the night, I learned fear.

It came slowly at first, that sinking feeling of dread. The horrible suspicion that made the hair on the back of my neck feel sharp, the air in my throat feel shallow.

But if I have learned anything of monsters, it is that they revel in that fear. That sickeningly overt reminder of mortality, of humanity. The way I couldn’t help the racing of my pulse, the darting of my eyes.

He enjoyed it, toying with me from the shadows. Watching me become desperate, watching me become weak.

But it paled in comparison, I’m sure, with what came next. Every story has its climax, and every beginning has its end. For him, it was the sweet, clean taste of my blood.

Wait. Another vampire story? One was strange enough, but for the last two published works at New Haven to be vampire related doesn’t feel like a coincidence. Especially since the more you read, the more you realize it’s not as much of a story as it is thinly veiled anti-vampire rhetoric.

The dramatized descriptions of a weak, innocent female lead being victimized by a faceless, bloodthirsty monster. It just feels… strange. Outdated. Irrelevant, even.

Clicking back to the list, you scan over the next five entries. All of them are more or less the same. Some are more metaphorical than others, abstract in their rhetoric, but the topic is always the same. And the conclusion always affirms the immense, inevitable, irredeemable blight that vampirism is to the world.

It’s just bizarre. Especially considering that Professor Kim never once had you analyze any anti-vampire propaganda throughout the entire semester. In fact, you were never assigned to read anything vampire related at all.

If this type of literature is so central to his professional career, it doesn't make sense to you that he wouldn’t incorporate it into his class. Especially considering the fact that he was awarding an internship at New Haven to one of the students.

You take another long sip of cold tea. Well… you could try to come up with something that aligns with the current profile of New Haven’s recently published works. It’s not like you’ve ever written anything related to vampires. Maybe you just need to think of it as a writing exercise, a challenge of sorts. Producing a piece that feels relevant and fresh even if the central topic is a bit out of style.

According to the revision schedule Professor Kim gave you, your first draft issue in a week and a half. The same day that you’re set to go to New Haven for the first time and tour the office you’ll be interning at once winter break is over. It’s an ambitious timeline, but he did specify that he’s looking more for a solid concept than a well polished draft. But something in you wants to have more than just a concept. You want his approval, to impress him.

So you have a week and a half to come up with a draft that will catch his attention, that will convince him that you were the right choice for this opportunity. Not anyone else in your class. Not Heeseung. You.

A concept that will excite New Haven Publishing House’s usual reader base, that will maybe actually earn you some commercial success.

A story that will prove to your parents that literature was the right choice for you. That your words do matter, that you can make a name for yourself with your writing.

Well, you think, suppressing an internal groan, it looks like you have your work cut out for you.

…..

Despite your admitted lack of vampiric knowledge, once you have your topic, the words start to flow. You’re not sure if it’s your best work. You’re not even sure if it’s good. But it feels a hell of a lot better than staring at a blank page for hours.

This afternoon finds you in the corner of your favorite coffee shop. Mostly because they offer half priced lattes on Wednesdays. As you make a dent in yours, the pen in your other hand continues to fly over the pages of your notebook, occasionally stopping to scratch out a word or rewrite a sentence.

The bare bones are there. Just like in the handful of stories you perused on New Haven’s website, your plot features a young woman. It’s a historic setting, mostly because you still can’t quite bring yourself to write vampires into the modern day when the reality is so starkly different.

And it’s not a vampire story. At least not at first glance. Instead, you weave an enduring metaphor to symbolize a parasitic relationship between two lovers.

The woman in your draft is young, full of life and energy and optimism. And she dreams. Vivid, brilliant dreams that she clings to in order to escape the harshness of her reality as a lower class woman in the countryside.

Her husband, however, is a brute. Older than her and with a decidedly less sunny disposition. When he learns that his health is failing, he discovers that he can heal himself temporarily by stealing these dreams from her.

So, no. It’s not overtly about vampires. But it does fall into step with some of the more abstract anti-vampire tropes you came across in your preliminary research.

Crossing a dark line through the word you just penned, you sigh.

This is the fastest you’ve put a story together in ages. It’s cohesive, and the writing is solid. Your use of metaphor is strong and concise, and the prose feels true to your identity as a writer.

But something in you withers a bit with every new word you commit to paper. It’s not that you hate your topic. If anything, it’s just that you have no stake in it at all. It doesn't feel innovative or exciting or representative of your creativity.

No matter how easily the words flow out of you, something about it just feels… flat. One dimensional.

You need something new. A different angle or an alternative perspective or… Or a fresh set of eyes.

Struck with a sudden idea, you pull out your phone, plan taking form in your mind. The literature club at your university hosts bimonthly peer review sessions, and you haven’t taken advantage of them nearly as much as you should. They’re a chance for any writer, literature major or otherwise, to come together and workshop any piece of writing of their choice.

Tapping your finger impatiently on the table, you wait for the page to load. The fall semester did end almost a week ago, so it may be a long shot. You’re not sure if the club typically holds sessions over winter break. But as you pull up the club’s calendar of events, a small smile tugs at your lips.

Luck seems to be on your side this time. It’s written there in plain, bold font that there will be a session this upcoming Friday evening. That means that if you attend the session and get some solid ideas for revision, you’ll have exactly five days to refine your draft before you present it to Professor Kim.

The idea of having not only a topic, as the schedule outlined, but an actual complete, well-written draft to show him next Wednesday, turns your small smile into one that overtakes your features.

Energized with a new vigor, you reach for your pen again. It doesn’t have to be perfect, you remind yourself, even as a turn of phrase makes you cringe. Even as a piece of punctuation feels out of place. It just needs to be written. You just need to have as much content as you can to share on Friday.

Besides, you’re sure that a second opinion will help you fine tune this story into something you’re proud to share, something you’re excited to attach your name to.

The afternoon is quick to blur into early evening, and you’re still bent over your favorite corner table. Coffee long drained, you’re full of a new confidence. The thought of proving yourself suddenly doesn’t seem like such an unachievable, out of reach task.

And when you do finally gather up all of your belongings and make your way back to your apartment for the night, you’re sure that this is the exact boost you needed.

That same stroke of self-assuredness carries you all the way through a finished first draft. It’s rough and messy and littered with loose ends, but it’s tucked away in the bottom of your tote bag with a smile as you haul it to classroom number 105 in the university liberal arts building Friday evening.

You pause at the door to the classroom, only for a moment. The inhale you breathe in is deep, full. Nodding to yourself once, you push open the door.

You haven’t been to one of these workshop sessions since the second semester of your first year, back when you had just switched to a literature major. You remember being wide-eyed and incredibly protective over your work. It was hard to part with it, to let anyone else read over the sentences you were so unsure of. The writing you had little confidence in.

But your partner had been kind. Another girl in her first year, she had nothing but gentle feedback to give and reassurance that your writing was worth reading. Honestly, it was such an overwhelmingly positive experience that you would have come back for more sessions if you weren’t constantly struggling to find minutes to spare in the day.

You’re hoping that tonight will be just as rewarding as you enter the classroom, tote bag in tow. But as you survey the space around you, your face falls flat, easy going smile dropping from your lips.

You weren’t expecting a big crowd, considering that it is winter break and most students are deliberately avoiding campus right now, but you were hoping there’d be more than one other person in attendance.

Well, you think, deciding to look on the bright side of things. At least you’re not the only person.

The other attendee is sitting in the far corner of the room, occupying a desk near the front of the classroom. At the sound of your entrance, they turn to face you.

With that, your small disappointment is quick to snowball into an intense wave of exasperation. Because why is the universe so hellbent on playing games with you?

Your mouth drops open without your permission. “Heeseung?”

Your sudden outburst fills the room and lingers long into the awkward silence that follows. You hadn’t meant to say anything, but really, what are the god forsaken odds?

If he’s bothered by your reaction to seeing him, Heeseung doesn’t show it. Instead he looks strangely… relieved. It makes absolutely no sense for him to feel any sort of relief at the sight of you, but it’s hard to put a more apt descriptor to the way tension drains from his shoulders, crease between his brows softening as he looks at you, scans you from head to toe.

A moment of stilted silence passes between the two of you. Another. Your heartbeat feels too loud in your chest.

You exhale, a cross between a scoff and a laugh so humorless it could freeze a flame. Weighing your options, the most tempting by far is to just turn on your heel and exit the way you came.

Heeseung seems to read your intention before you can commit to it.

Breaking the heaviness in the atmosphere, he acts as if you’ve greeted him like an old friend, not as the source of all your recent headaches.

“Hi,” he nods, so tentatively you almost want to let your jaw drop open in shock. Almost.

Because what the fuck does he mean by ‘Hi?’ This has to be some kind of mind game, some way to get in your head and ruin this for you.

“Right.” Your lips pull into a tight line. You don’t bother to return his greeting. “I’m just gonna go, then.” Hiking up your bag on your shoulder, you turn to do just that. Your first draft will just have to be unpolished. Oh, well. You’re sure Professor Kim will have better feedback for you than Lee Heeseung ever would anyway.

Once again, Heeseung’s voice cuts across the classroom. “Wait.” There’s a command in his voice. Gentle, but firm. Insistent. So pervasive that you find yourself following without really meaning to.

Mind made up and dead set on leaving, now you’re just annoyed. What a waste of a Friday evening.

“What?” You turn back to him. You’re not sure if there’s more venom in your voice or your eyes.

And Heeseung, who commands a classroom with quiet grace, with his steady, unwavering presence, suddenly looks so damn unsure. As if tormenting you is uncharted territory. As if he’s never once left you in the cold with flaming cheeks and a thoroughly shattered ego.

“I…” he trails off, not quite meeting your furious gaze. “Didn’t you come here to get feedback?”

“Right.” You scoff again. “Because I’m sure you’d love nothing more than to tear my writing to shreds. Forgive me, but I’m not interested in being the butt end of your joke tonight.”

“What?” If you didn’t know any better, the ignorance he feigns would be rather convincing. “That’s not why I’m here.” He shakes his head. “I brought something I want reviewed too.”

Your brow arches. He can’t be serious. “Even if I did stay,” you counter, “you’re actually the last person I would want to read my work. Feel free to be offended by that, by the way.”

For a solid minute, Heeseung just looks at you. He wears that same damn deer-in-the-headlights expression he had after you brushed him off when he intercepted you in class the other day. He pauses, weighing words on his tongue. “Look, ____.” The sound of your name on his lips strikes a strange chord in you. Until now, you were certain he didn’t even know it. “Did I do something to offend—”

And no. Absolutely not. No way are you rehashing that day in the quad with him now.

“You know what,” you interrupt. You need to go. Now. You need an out. “I’m actually, like, super tired. I think I’m just gonna head back, and—”

But then it’s his turn to cut off your train of thought. “It’s your piece for Professor Kim, isn’t it?” Heeseung takes your silence as confirmation. “Publishing is a big deal. A second set of eyes will only make your work stronger. And if you hate my feedback, it’s not like you have to use any of it.”

You hate it. You despise the way his reasoning matches your internal monologue nearly word for word. The way your thoughts align exactly.

You pause, a decision weighing heavy on your mind. He is an excellent writer… There would probably be substance to his feedback. Real, actual, good substance that you could use to make your writing bloom into something truly amazing. He could be the exact spark you need to make your story come to life.

You purse your lips. “What’s in it for you?”

Heeseung smiles, a nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips. He knows he’s won. “Like I said, I brought something I’ve been working on.” There’s an intention you can’t quite read behind his gaze when he adds, “I want to know what you think of it.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

With a grumble, you take reluctant steps towards where he sits on the opposite side of the classroom. And if you slide down into the seat next to him with a little more force than necessary, well, it’s just because you’ve had a long week. No other reason. None at all.

“Fine,” you relent, reaching to pull your notebook out of your bag. “You get twenty minutes.”

“That’s not nearly long eno—”

“Thirty,” you concede. “And don’t push it.”

Sensing your disdain, Heeseung doesn’t respond. Instead, he accepts the notebook you reluctantly hand him with an outstretched hand and an open palm. The transfer between the two of you is gentle. You have the distinct sense that he’ll treat your work with care, in more than one way.

Still, something in your heart seizes at the thought of letting your work be read. Of letting him be the one to read it.

In return, he offers you a notebook of his own. Bound in brown, aged leather, it’s certainly much more refined than yours. Of course.

He hands it to you still closed. Staring down at the cover, you ask, “What page?” It feels intrusive to start flipping through his writing uninvited.

“There’s a bookmark.” Heeseung nods his chin towards the small piece of paper sticking out of the top edge that you missed at first glance.

And then the transfer is complete. A piece of your heart is spread open on his desk, and a piece of his soul is in your hands.

Ignoring the way your fingers tremble with a slight shake, you delicately open his notebook to the bookmarked page, letting it fall open on the desk in front of you.

At first glance, the writing strikes you as odd. The paragraphs are strange lengths, ending at random junctures instead of extending all the way to the margins. And then it hits you. They’re not paragraphs. They’re stanzas.

Poetry. Lee Heeseung writes poetry.

You sneak a sidelong glance at him out of your periphery. He’s already engrossed in the pages of your notebook, pausing occasionally to jot a note down on a scrap piece of paper. His brow is furrowed, and there’s a tension in his jawline that only makes it sharper.

Still, the image of his profile is shrouded in a distinct sort of softness. The kind of effortless beauty that feels like it should be reserved for intimate moments in the dead of night, secrets passed between lovers. It’s wasted under the fluorescent lights and patchy, beige walls of an underfunded classroom, but you waste another minute staring at him all the same.

For a fleeting moment, it’s not hard to imagine those hands, those long, delicate fingers maintaining an even grip on a ballpoint pen to write something as romantic as poetry.

Shaking your head, you clear the errant thoughts. Instead, you turn your focus back to the page in front of you and begin with the first poem. Forcing your eyes to focus, you read.

As if nothing happened,

She looks at me

With shadowless eyes.

But it is me who has been

Forgiven and reborn countless times.

You inhale. Exhale. Short and succinct with a distinct twinge of tragedy. That was… not what you were expecting. Pushing forward, you move onto the next entry.

Even the stars in the universe

Will close their eyes one day.

Underneath their watchful gaze,

All of these moments are precious.

For memory, for regret,

I will carve them

Into the repetition of the moment.

Again, you pause, taking a moment to breathe. It’s so… melancholy, so poignant in its evocation of pain, of regret. While you’ve been familiar with Heeseung’s ability to analyze the hell out of a novella, this was not something you thought you’d find in his repertoire. And the more you read on, the more you realize these aren’t flukes. This is his identity as a writer, or at least a significant part of it.

The world that abandoned us

Slowly turns to ash.

But I don’t feel the pain.

I only feel the cold.

My god. You nearly close the notebook on instinct. Without your permission, your eyes flick ove to the desk next to you. The broad set of shoulders that fill the seat. What has this boy been through? Why is he letting you read this?

Heeseung looks up. Not at you, but the movement is enough to startle you out of your staring. Returning your eyes to his notebook, you read the last entry on the page.

A shaded castle with no sun

The thick scent of dying roses never fades.

In a broken mirror, I see myself.

And my reflection whispers, “Monster.”

The breath you release is long. Audible. You’re overcome with the urge to run your fingers over his words, to feel the indents his pen made as he carved pain into the page. His writing is gorgeous. It’s beautifully, tragically haunting. Of that much, you’re certain. But you have no idea what to do with that information.

His words feel too raw, too terribly intimate. Like something that was never meant for your eyes. You can’t understand what on earth possibly possessed him to let — no — to encourage you to read these.

You can’t fathom any kind of feedback you could offer him. These feel like pieces of his soul, not something to be commodified or commented on in a writing workshop. Discussed in the cold, unfeeling walls of an old classroom.

Despite the discomfort that lingers with each passing stanza, his writing has an almost addictive quality. Over and over, you find yourself rereading each brief poem. You’re searching for meaning, for clarity, for something hidden between the lines that you missed on your first handful of reads.

Thirty minutes pass in a trance, and Heeseung, true to his word, is the one to break the silence when your half hour is up.

Mind still reeling, you realize with a sinking feeling that you have absolutely no feedback to give him at all.

Instead, you turn to face him. Throwing a meaningful glance at where your notebook still lies open on the desk in front of him. Doing your best to not look too hopeful, you ask, “Well?”

For a moment, Heeseung just looks at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Tension pulls at his temple, his jaw. Frustration seeps from beneath his skin, and you can’t tell where it’s directed.

“Oh, come on,” you prod when his silence extends even longer. “I know you’re dying to spill the gory details of how grossly incompetent I am and how horrifically amateur my writing is, so don’t—”

Heeseung wastes no fanfare. “This is awful.”

Your lips flatten. “Or just cut right to the chase.”

He’s quick to clarify. “But not for any of the reasons you just listed. I mean, sure, there are some craft issues here, but even those seem like a result of your concept.”

“What’s wrong with my concept?” The edge of defensiveness in your voice escapes without your permission.

Heeseung just levels you with a look. Returning his gaze to your notebook, he reads from your draft verbatim, “...Stashing away the light from her life. Tucking it into his back pocket like extra change just for the satisfaction of temporary happiness. It was never love that bound him to her, but the promise of a never ending fountain of life. Of wishes and thoughts and hopes and dreams that he could use to sustain himself as long as he subjected himself to the numbing pleasure of existing at her side.”

He raises an eyebrow, turns back to you. “I mean, really, ____? I’ve read some nauseatingly vitriolic vampire pieces in my life, and this just about has all of them beat. Besides, the whole vampire thing just feels so… irrelevant. Do people still read this stuff anymore?”

Your first instinct is to defend yourself, your work, even if his thoughts mirror your own. Before you can, Heeseung is pressing on. You don’t have the space to get a word in sideways. “I mean, what happened to the writing from that piece you presented back in September? I don’t remember all the details, but there was something about watching birds land on water and connecting it to the feeling of belonging but never truly fitting in.” He looks at you again. There’s more emotion, more glittering life in his eyes than you’ve ever seen from him before. “That was a fresh take and a well done metaphor.”

Your mind is reeling. It’s far too much information to take in all at once. But something stands out amongst the rest. Because that almost sounded like—

“Was that a compliment?” It seems unlikely, but you can’t find another way to take his words. “You paid attention to my presentation?”

You liked it? You don’t ask that question out loud, but the needier parts of you crave his answer anyway.

“Yeah, of course I did. Peer review was a mandatory component of the course.” Heeseung’s cheekbones remain the same, even, honey-tinted tone, but you swear you see a flash of embarrassment in the way he averts his gaze.

“Well, yeah.” It’s not a justification that holds much weight in your mind. “But you don’t exactly seem like the type to really pay attention to other people’s stuff. Especially if you think it’s not worth your time.”

“I just told you your presentation was good, didn’t I?”

You arch a brow. “Yeah, right after you finished calling my draft horrific.”

Heeseung shakes his head. “I didn’t say it was horrific…”

“Oh, please. Spare us both the semantics. That’s what you meant.” You’re not sure why your mind always goes back to that day in the quad, but you find yourself still sore from his rejection, his new assertion of your work poking at old wounds. Picking at poorly healed scabs. “And it’s not like you were jumping for joy at the chance to review my work back then, either.”

Heeseung’s brow furrows. You can practically see the gears turning in his mind. You’re not sure if it makes you feel better or worse, the fact that he doesn’t seem to remember that day at all.

In the end, you decide to spare him the effort of empty recollection. With a sigh, you spill your shame. At least this time around, you’re the only two that will bear witness. “That one day in class. Back at the beginning of the semester. We had to present our analysis of that one short story. You remember, the one about planting seeds in bad soil.” Heeseung nods, but there’s no spark of realization. Not yet.

Continuing, it only pains you slightly to admit, “Your analysis was brilliant, and I gushed about it in front of the whole class. Laid it on thick with the compliments. And then after class, I stopped you in the quad.” Something flickers over Heeseung’s features. A memory tugging at the back of his mind. “When I asked if you wanted to review each other’s pieces for the next assignment, you completely brushed me off.”

Brow still pulled downwards, Heeseung is thinking back to that day, too. But it doesn't seem to hold the same awful, leaden weight in his mind. “I didn’t brush you off,” he argues. “I think I said I was busy.”

It takes a lot of willpower not to let your jaw drop open. “That’s brushing someone off!” Your voice is too loud for the near empty classroom, for your close proximity. “Like literally the textbook definition. Everyone knows that ‘I’m busy’ is code for ‘leave me the hell alone.’”

Almost imperceptibly, Heeseung’s features soften as he watches yours strain. The fluorescent light bulbs that fill the room suddenly don’t seem quite as harsh when he says, “Well, that's not what I meant. I was busy.”

It’s hardly a satisfying answer. But you suppose it makes little difference. If he wants to stick to his story, you’ll continue to feign indifference. “Whatever. It’s not like it matters now anyway.”

And then your mind is back on his poems. His beautiful, tragic, gorgeously phrased stanzas scribbled in his handwriting. Fragments of vulnerability that he handed to you without hesitation.

It’s like comparing apples to oranges in a way, but there is no doubt in your mind that between the two of you, the writing he brought tonight is better. Better than your story, better than most things you’ve ever written, probably. The imagery is evocative, striking in a way you’ve never quite been able to achieve no matter how many seminars and workshops and lectures you attend.

Not for the first time, your brain dangles a dangerous thought in a place where you can’t avoid it. What if Professor Kim chose wrong? What if Heeseung hadn’t been late to class that day? Would you be sitting here with a mediocre draft and a raging inferiority complex?

You’ll never know, not really, but you find yourself asking anyway, “Why were you late to class that day?”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you wish you could take them back. It’s not like his answer will change anything. And it’s invasive. Far too personal to ask someone you barely know. That up until thirty minutes ago, you actively avoided.

But maybe the universe is on your side for once. Maybe you got ridiculously lucky and he didn’t hear you, despite the fact that it’s dead silent in this classroom. Maybe—

“What?”

Or not.

Well, you’re committed now. “The last day of class. When the winner for the publishing opportunity was announced,” you clarify. “You were late. Honestly,” you add with a wry smile, “you’d probably be the one writing overdramatic vampire slander right now if you hadn’t been.”

It’s a self-deprecating joke. It might land poorly, but you’re hoping it will lighten the atmosphere.

A dark shadow crosses Heeseung’s features. “Trust me, ___. You winning had nothing to do with me being late that day.”

If he thinks flattery will get him anywhere, he’s wrong. You can feel your frustrations bubbling in your throat, clawing at your mind. You won. You beat him. So why doesn’t it feel like it? Why doesn’t it feel like anything you do is ever good enough?

“C’mon, Heeseung.” He doesn’t deserve your anger. At least, not now. But he gets it anyway. Insecurities and inferiority and frustration all wrapped in rage. “You were practically a shoe-in, and everyone knows it.”

He’s just as insistent. Leaning towards you slightly, he looks anything but aloof now. “No I wasn’t. Professor Kim chose you to intern with him. He read both of our submissions all semester and chose you to publish with his firm. I told you, your writing is good. Really good.” Glancing down at your notebook, he adds, “Even if this one is a bit… uninspired.”

A compliment and a slight. His version of the truth, wrapped up in a bow and delivered right to your waiting ears. You don’t know whether to be furious or overjoyed. Maybe it would be best to feel absolutely nothing at all. It scares you, just how much weight his opinion holds.

But approval from him has its way of feeling like a long sought victory, and now the air feels fraught with something delicate, fragile. Precarious, even.

It’s early evening in a threadbare classroom. The most neutral territory imaginable. But it’s the two of you, alone, secluded. And suddenly, that frightens you.

“Right.” You won’t tell him ‘thank you’ for the compliment or ‘go fuck yourself’ for the criticism. Both options feel like you would be revealing too much.

Instead, you take a glance at the clock. It’s not late, but it’s an excuse. “I should probably get going.”

Heeseung exhales. Leans back in his seat. “Of course,” he concedes easily, reaching to hand you your notebook.

You do the same with his, almost sad to watch his poetry pass from your hands to his. It’s odd, the way his words already feel like something you’ll miss.

You realize then that he hasn’t asked you for your opinion on his work. For your advice on how to make it better. In all honesty, you’re relieved. You haven’t the slightest idea what you would say.

So instead, you busy yourself with repacking your tote bag. In your haste, you knock your pen off of your desk. The sound it makes as it strikes the thinning carpet can’t be loud, but it feels thunderous in your ears.

As you reach to pick it up, Heeseung does the same. There’s a moment, fleeting but unmistakable, when the skin of his hand brushes against yours.

Instantly, Heeseung recoils as if you’ve burned him. His hand is back in his own space at a speed so fast you nearly miss it.

It was an accident, a tiny blip with no real consequences, but the way he’s looking at you with those damn eyes makes you feel like you should be apologizing.

“Sorry.” The severity of his reaction stings like rejection. It’s not like he’s exactly your favorite person either, but at least you have the common decency to not look repulsed at the thought of touching him. At the accidental brushing of your hands.

Heeseung frowns. Shakes his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts. “No, I…” he trails off, letting his words hang in the air for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he concludes, but it feels disingenuous. And he doesn’t bother to elaborate. Looking over your shoulder, he reads the clock on the wall. “It’s getting kind of late. Where are you parked? I can walk you to your car.”

His hands are busy putting his notebook back in his back. It’s a considerate offer, but coming on the tail end of everything else, it doesn’t hold much weight with you. His words don’t match his actions, and you decide you’d be a fool to take them at face value.

“Don’t bother. I’m walking home, not driving.”

Heeseung freezes, hand still inside his bag. He’s not looking at you, but you feel the weight of his attention all the same. “Do you need someone to walk with you?”

The way he phrases the question makes you feel like a burden. He’s asking if you need someone to walk with you, not offering because he wants to. A subtle difference maybe, but the last thing you want is to feel like you owe him any favors.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” He does look at you now, concern painted across his features. “It’s getting dark earlier these days, and—”

His words are wasted on you. You’re already halfway to the door. “I’m sure.” But before you leave, you decide one more hit to your pride can’t worsen the damage that’s already been done. At least this time, it will be by your doing. Standing under the doorframe, you turn back to him. “Thank you for your feedback. It was good to hear an honest opinion.”

Your words sink into the air. Linger for a moment.

Heeseung nods. Something in his jaw tightens. “You know, if you do decide to change topics, I’d be happy to read whatever you write.”

It almost sounds like another compliment. Or maybe another insult. Either way, you’re sure that even if you figure it out, you’ll still have no idea what to do with it. You nod, only once, and then your back is turned again before you can linger too long on any of it.

But his words, the sweet ones this time, replay in your mind the entire walk home.

Maybe if you weren’t so distracted by the ghosts of compliments, you’d have noticed the pair of quiet, even footsteps that trailed after you in the distance. That only retreated once the front door to your apartment was pulled shut and locked tight behind you.

Then again, maybe not. Heeseung has always had a knack for going undetected.

…..

You wake up the next morning with Heeseung’s words replaying in your mind.

Awful. Irrelevant. And of course your favorite, ‘nauseatingly vitriolic vampire piece.’

In the faded glow of morning light, you groan out loud to your empty bedroom. The worst part of it all is that he’s not even wrong. But it’s Saturday morning, and your first draft is due on Wednesday. The thought of starting a new story from scratch and writing it to completion within that time frame is enough to make you want to curl into a ball and screw your eyes shut until you can pretend the world outside your bedroom is nothing but a figment of your imagination.

So no, you don’t think you can start over entirely. But maybe, just maybe, you can rework things. Tweak the narrative to feel less cliche, less outdated. More true to you.

Part of you wants to abandon the vampire concept entirely, convinced it’s what’s holding you down. The other part is hesitant to do so based on New Haven’s list of recently published works.

And while Heeseung’s criticism was the confirmation you needed that your story needs reworking, it’s not like he gave you any ideas as to what you should change. What direction you should take.

Nauseatingly vitriolic vampire piece. That seemed to be Heeseung’s biggest problem with your draft. Not that it alluded to vampirism. No, you think he disliked that it was a tired and rehashed propaganda piece on the inherent evilness of vampires.

Everyone knows that vampires were monsters. Writing about it, no matter how many metaphors and symbolic phrases you wrap it up in, just isn’t interesting.

That’s the route you’ll take, then, you decide. You don’t have to invent a new concept out of thin air. You just need to find a way to bring something new to the table. Something worth reading. Climbing out of bed, you switch your pajamas for clothes more acceptable in public.

And then you make your way to the university library.

Just as you suspected, it’s essentially empty. Between long rows of meticulously shelved books, vacant study rooms, and community computers, the only other person you see is the librarian that greets you as you arrive. Even her eyebrows raise in mild shock to see someone else during the break, and on a weekend at that.

Heading to the second floor, the first section you peruse through is historical records. But between old newspapers, reports, and journals, the content itself is quite cut and dry. Detached descriptions of vampire attacks that only contain details of the date, time, and death toll aren’t exactly riveting. And you don’t think they’ll do much for your feeble draft.

Before long, you move away from the nonfiction section. Navigating to supernatural fiction on the third floor, you start browsing titles. Vampire stories make up a rather small portion of the texts, and from what you can tell, the vast majority align with what you found on New Haven’s website.

From Demons of the Dark to Left in Cold Blood, you doubt that most of what you find will offer any kind of new perspective. But on your third, slightly desperate scouring of the shelf, you make a discovery.

It’s a small, nondescript book. The muted tones and faded lettering on the spine go easily undetected amongst the much flashier copies of anti-vampire propaganda it’s nestled between.

Pulling the book out from the shelf with a delicate touch, you flip the cover face-up in your hand.

Sacred Monsters: A Collection of Essays on the Origins of Immortality

It piques your interest. At the very least, it seems different from all the other novels.

Book in hand, you make your way to a nearby desk. Once you’re settled in, you pull out your notebook, opening to a new page with the intention of taking notes.

The book you lay on the desk next to your notebook seems like it’s lived a long life, the old scent of dust and aged paper and time all contained within its pages. Flipping open the front cover, you look for an author or publication date. But there’s nothing there, not even a title page or a table of contents.

Glossing over the slight oddity, you decide the beginning is as good a place as any to start.

The Taste of Blood, is the title at the top of the page.

And the first sentence begins:

It is neither sweet nor particularly savory. There is no distinct aroma, no compelling flavor profile, nothing that appeals to the eye or excites the taste buds. The only merit is the fact that it is necessary. For even those blessed with immortality know what it means to survive. And even those cursed to live forever know what it means to die.

Frowning, you flip back to the cover, as if that will provide any clarity for the strange passage you just read. But nothing is different. Nothing new stands out. Just the same, faded title. No author or indication of any kind of publication date.

Intrigued, you turn back and resume where you left off.

Some are said to enjoy the act. The purity of release, of giving in to the instincts that can be convinced into domesticity but never fully silenced. I have never found such relief. The ghost of my humanity has always been stronger than the voice of the monster, even as he screams with unbounded ferocity.

Without it, I feel incomplete. With it, I feel irredeemable. Even now, I dodge the truth, omit the profane. I have seen many moons, enjoyed their silver glow. I have stolen the very same pleasure from countless others. And yet, I struggle to call it by name. I cannot reconcile the battles waged in my bones, the war fought in my mind.

There is no winner in either. All that remains in the taste of it. Lingering on my breath. Haunting my waking dreams. That which I cannot name.

The taste of blood.

In my fervor, it soothes like honey. In my regret, it turns to ash.

And still, nothing changes. And still, nothing remains the same.

-- Anonymous

Well, if you were looking for something different, you found it. Because what the absolute fuck are you reading? If you didn’t know any better, you’d think it were written from the perspective of a vampire.

Then again, shelved in the fiction section, you suppose it’s plausible. Actual vampires may have housed little room in their consciousness for anything outside of bloodlust, but it is an interesting idea to think of vampires as conflicted. Haunted by the brutality of their innate instincts.

You’re not exactly sure how or if this will be able to influence your own story for the better, but something about it makes you want to keep reading.

Alone, tucked amongst the dusty shelves of a neglected section of the library, you lose yourself between the pages of the mysterious book.

As the title indicated, it’s a collection of essays. Most are quite short, around the same length as the first one you read. And none are claimed by an author. All are signed off with the same boldface type that spells Anonymous. There are subtle differences in the writing though, stylistic choices that make you think that more than one person wrote these essays.

Despite that, they’re all woven together by a common thread. The first essay, as you discover, was not a fluke. Every single one is written in first person from the perspective of a vampire.

The writing is compelling, humorous in places and deeply upsetting in others. It seems odd to you, just how much humanity is captured within the pages, within each turn of phrase.

You feel inclined to root for the narrator in some stories and abjectly horrified by them in others. But never once does the writing make you think that vampires are incapable of self-actualization, of reflection, of morality.

In all honesty, aside from Heeseung’s poems, it’s the most interesting thing you’ve read in ages. So much so that by the time you realize you’ve finished the last essay, the winter sun is teeming dangerously close to the horizon, and the library is nearing its closing hours.

The notebook page you intended to use for notes, to jot down points of inspiration, is still woefully blank. But as you make your way back to the front of the library, the small, strange book comes along with you.

Stopping at the front desk to formally check it out, the librarian frowns when she enters the number from the spine into the system. She clicks around on her computer for a moment longer before handing the book back to you.

“I’m sorry, but the book isn’t coming up in our system for some reason. Would you mind writing down your student ID number for me? I’ll have to enter the information manually.”

You oblige her request, tucking the book into your bag before you leave.

It’s chilly outside, the cold clutches of winter gaining a full grasp on the crisp, frigid air. After a long day in a stuffy library, the freezing air is almost soothing. Tucking your hands into your pockets, you turn towards the direction that will take you home.

You’ve barely taken five steps when a voice calls your name from behind. Pausing, you turn to find the source of the sound.

“Heeseung?” But there’s no mistaking it. That is most definitely Lee Heeseung, currently jogging towards you on the otherwise empty sidewalk in front of the university library.

He catches up to you easily, no sign of perspiration or even a hint of breathlessness when he asks, “What are you doing walking alone at night?” As if you’re the strange one in this situation.

You give him a once over. The loose jeans and dark winter coat he wears are nothing special, but he wears them well regardless. You suppress the urge to sigh. “I could ask you the same.”

“Fair enough.” His tone is too light, too casual. Like he’s forcing it. Like he’s hiding something. “Are you headed home? I’ll walk you there.”

And if you weren’t suspicious before, you sure as hell are now. Why on earth would he want to walk you home? “I’m fine, thanks.” You turn away from him, heading in the direction of your apartment and hoping he’ll take the hint.

Your wish goes ungranted. He matches your pace easily, even as you try to quicken it. “It’s after dark, ___. And there are a lot of…” He trails off, searching for the right word. “strange people out at night these days. I’m not letting you walk home alone.”

Lips tight, you don’t bother looking at him. The idea of Heeseung letting you do anything makes you want to throw things. “I’ll be fine.”

But he’s persistent. He’s all smiles and a strange amount of desperate when he says, “Either you let me walk you back or I’ll just follow you at a weird distance, which will be far more uncomfortable for both of us.”

That makes you stop in your tracks. And now you do turn to look at him. “Well, when you put it that way…”

Heeseung nods, “Exactly. So—”

You arch an unimpressed brow, crossing your arms over your chest. “It sounds like you’re the strange person at night I need to stay away from.”

Heeseung sighs, matches your eye. A strand of hair falls into his eyes, and he pushes it away with long fingers. “Are you gonna start walking or are we gonna stand here and argue a little longer?”

“You don’t even know where I live.”

“What a great night to find out.”

You stare at him a moment longer, lips tight. You don’t want to be the one to give in, to hand him any kind of victory, no matter how small.

But it is getting late. The walk from campus to your apartment is never one that’s made you uneasy, but it never hurts to have someone at your side. Besides, you think he was serious about following you. He’s made it clear that he’ll be tagging along one way or another.

“Fine,” you huff, arms still crossed over your chest. “But only because the streetlight a few blocks away is out.”

Heeseung inclines his head, a minute acknowledgement. There’s a hint of movement at the corner of his lips. “Naturally.”

You resume walking, and he falls into your pace with a practiced ease, hands in his pocket, eyes on the stars. It’s a cloudless evening. The sky above you feels vast, immense as the last rays of daylight lie to rest on the distant horizon.

With a slight shiver, you pull your jacket tighter around your body. Heeseung notices the movement. Parts his lips as if he wants to say something. Changes his mind. Closes them.

You’ve just reached the far edge of campus when he breaks the steady silence.

“How’s your draft coming?”

“It’s…” You trail off, not sure how well honesty will serve you here. It feels vulnerable, like a blatant weakness to admit that you’ve got nothing. But something about cold air and the vast expanse of night has you wanting to tell the truth. “Not great.”

Heeseung lets your response settle. Turns it over in his mind a few times. You’ve noticed that about him. He’s careful with his responses. Weighs his words before breathing them to life. “Still looking for inspiration?”

“I don’t know if it’s inspiration I need.” It’s easier to talk to him like this, when your eyes have something to focus on, when your body has the constant repetition of steps to occupy part of your mind. Without little distractions like these, Heeseung has a way of becoming all consuming. “I feel like I backed myself into a corner with the vampire concept. I’m not sure if there's really anything there to explore that won’t feel outdated and irrelevant.”

“Mm,” Heeseung muses. It’s noncommittal, neither an agreement nor an argument. “Maybe. You said it yourself; vampires are nothing but bloodlust. Riled completely by instinct. Nothing left of their humanity.”

Frowning, your footsteps almost falter. “I didn’t say that.”

“Forgive me.” If there’s a tinge of bitterness in his tone, you suppose it must be because of the cold. The fact that he’s wasting his Saturday night walking you home. “Heavily implied it.”

“Honestly, the only reason I even wrote that story was because there were a lot of similar ones on New Haven’s list of recently published works.” Your reasoning feels almost stupid when you admit it aloud like this. You’ve always prided yourself on your originality, your commitment to staying true to yourself as a writer. But when push comes to shove, you let your desire to impress your professor get in the way of that. “I wanted something that would align with their usual publications.”

You’ve admitted a weakness, a poorly made choice. You’re expecting ire, more of that haughty contempt. But Heeseung’s mind is going in an entirely different direction.

He’s not questioning your abilities, not even alluding to them at all when he asks, “What do you think of vampires, then?”

His question catches you off guard. Why on earth would he care about that? “What’s it to you?”

“My bad. We can just walk in awkward silence if you prefer.”

It takes a ridiculous amount of your energy to swallow the laugh that bubbles in your throat. Since when did Heeseung crack jokes? Since when did you have to fight the urge to giggle at them like a schoolgirl with a crush? You suddenly find yourself grateful for the cover of night, the way shadows make the heat on your cheeks undetectable.

But his question still lingers. Ruminating on it, your mind flickers to the small, odd book currently sitting at the bottom of your bag.

Sacred Monsters.

It feels like a strange combination of words, two concepts that shouldn’t fit together.

“I think it’s more complicated than that,” you breathe. You don’t know if it could possibly be true, the idea that creatures of the night have a high level of consciousness, the ability to moralize, to feel conflicted. But it certainly makes for a more interesting story.

“I mean, vampires had to have some level of base cognition, right?” You’ll never know for sure, but the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. “They were hunted to near extinction, but they put up a good fight. They hid. They fled. They tried blending in as humans. Some resorted to drinking animal blood. I guess there’s no way of knowing, but that doesn’t feel like pure biology or an evolutionary response alone. It feels like… something a human would do.”

“Wouldn’t that be worse?” Heeseung’s voice is low. If the faint hum of faraway traffic were any louder, you might not hear him at all. “For them to know what it means to be alive and still make the choice to take that away from someone else? To exist as a parasite.”

“It would certainly be tragic.” The words of the first essay come back to you.

For even those blessed with immortality know what it means to survive. And even those cursed to live forever know what it means to die.

“It’s a fatal flaw, a cruel design. They need blood to survive. The very thing that their bodies used to create on their own. It’s parasitic, yes, but that doesn’t make it animal instinct. I can’t imagine the horror of having to experience that with the burden of human consciousness.”

You feel the weight of Heeseung’s gaze on the side of your face. “It’s still evil, is it not?”

His words feel heavy, weighted under moonlight. Though you can’t imagine why, you have the distinct sense that your answer is important to him.

“Like I said, I think it’s more complicated than that. Taking someone’s life is evil, yes, but that was never unique to vampires. Is a vampire that chooses animal blood still evil just because they’re a vampire? Is a human that chooses to kill another absolved of their crime just by virtue of being human?”

Your words settle into the space between you.

“That,” Heeseung finally breathes, “would make a much better story than the one I read last night.”

This time, you do laugh, a light airy thing. It feels easy, lighthearted as some of the tension drains from the atmosphere.

“Unfortunately, I’m not so sure Professor Kim would agree. Based on everything New Haven publishes, he seems to have some weird anti-vampire vendetta.”

As you round the corner, your apartment comes into view. Nodding toward the staircase that leads to your front door, you tell him, “This is me, by the way.”

Heeseung glances at the stairs, then back at you. He shoves his hands into his coat pockets. “When is your draft due?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you groan. “Wednesday.”

“Mm,” he winces, an offer of understanding. “What time?”

“I’m supposed to be at New Haven by three, so—”

“What?” Heeseung cuts you off, expression suddenly tense, voice suddenly sharp. “You’re going to the publishing office?”

“Yeah.” You nod slowly, unsure why that would possibly warrant such a strong reaction. “I’m dropping off my first draft and getting a tour. The internship starts right when spring semester does, so he told me I could come in person to familiarize myself with the space first.”

“Right.” Heeseung nods. The tension in his jaw doesn’t relax.

It’s all so strange. He always seems to be speaking in riddles, dealing with invisible problems you can’t detect.

You’re tired and confused, and the moon that hangs above you doesn’t feel like a remedy for either of those things. In fact, it might be making things worse.

Because despite the way you feel like you’ll never quite understand him, bathed in the shimmering glow of moonlight, Heeseung looks…

He looks like all the things you’ve been trying to avoid calling him for the duration of the semester. Ethereal. Beautiful. Maybe even kind, at least when he wants to be.

After all, you’re standing at the base of your staircase with company, and it wasn’t due to any insistence on your end.

The silence lingers. A string somewhere is pulled taught.

You’re standing still, and you’re still a little breathless when you tell him, “I should go.” You don’t want to. You’re not sure why.

Again, Heeseung only nods.

The movement sends shadows dancing over his features. The bridge of his nose. The plane of his cheek. The line of his jaw. Things you’ve never let yourself linger on. Things you’re having a hard time looking away from now.

But he’s seen you home safe and sound, and even nights under the stars have their inevitable end.

It occurs to you then that you have no idea how he plans to get home, or even how far away he lives.

After he walked you home,it’s the least you could do to offer, “Do you live far? I could help you pay for a cab or something if—”

Heeseung shakes his head. He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It won’t take me long. Besides, I like to walk at night.”

“Okay.” It feels strange, trading these bits of kindness. You’re craving some normalcy, something unwavering. So with a final wave and a small goodnight, you climb the stairs to your door.

You couldn’t say for sure if his eyes follow you on the way up. You feel the heat of them, the weight of a steady gaze on your spine. But it’s a fickle sensation and you’ve been wrong before. And you can’t quite bring yourself to turn around and look.

The door closes behind you. Surrounded by the stillness of an empty apartment, you release a long held exhale. It drains out of you audibly. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath.

…..

Dawn breaks Wednesday morning and carries with it a certain kind of dread.

Despite your efforts, and there have been many, your draft remains far too close to its original state for your satisfaction. No matter how many times you pour over Sacred Monsters, you can never quite seem to find a way to make your submission more interesting while also staying true to New Haven’s general themes.

If anything, the book has been a distraction. Long hours that you could have spent editing or revising or rewriting were instead dedicated to detailed web searches with a variety of keywords and spellings that never seemed to bear any fruit.

It doesn’t matter which search engine you use. It doesn’t matter which database you browse. Other than the copy sitting on your desk, Sacred Monsters doesn’t seem to exist.

But the annoying, wonderful, awful thing about time is that it passes. Time doesn’t care that you haven’t found it in yourself to produce a draft you’re proud of. Time doesn’t relent just because you always feel like it’s slipping through your fingers.

And Wednesday morning turns to Wednesday afternoon with the same steady predictability as always.

You’d like to think that you know the area around your university quite well, but New Haven’s main office is in an entirely different part of the city. You’ll have to leave now if you want to catch the bus with a little cushion of time to spare. The last thing you want to do is be late to your first day. Especially since the draft tucked neatly into your bag isn’t one you can hand over with confidence.

To your relief, the bus is relatively empty. You tuck yourself into a seat and thank your lucky stars that you missed the afternoon rush.

Popping your headphones in, you’re searching for something to fill the time. There’s the draft sitting in your bag, of course, but the last thing you want to do is spend the next thirty minutes agonizing over it. For now, it will just have to be the mess of mediocrity that it is.

Instead, you reach for your phone. Maybe some mindless scrolling will be what you need to put your nerves at ease.

But when the app loads, the first post you see doesn’t have you giggling or rolling your eyes or scrolling on without a thought at all. Instead, your spine straightens, shoulders suddenly tense.

Because the words you’re reading are not something you ever expected to see in your lifetime.

Three dead in suspected vampire attack, the latest headline from your local news reporting channel reads.

Clicking on the article, the details are hazy, but that does little to lessen the grip of fear that makes a sudden grab at your throat. Fragments of sentences capture your attention as you scan the page.

Three bodies found near the river…

Bite marks on their necks…

No trace of recent animal activity in the area…

Eyes widening with every new piece of information, fear claws at your throat.

Bodies completely drained of blood.

Two hundred years. Two hundred years of the belief that vampires have all but been eradicated. Shattered in one fell swoop.

And in your city, of all places. At the river. Somewhere you’ve been. Somewhere you wouldn’t think twice about going. It’s not particularly close to your apartment or university, but it’s not exactly far enough away for comfort.

You shudder, suddenly grateful that Heeseung was there to walk you home last night. Not that he would be able to do much if you did stumble across the path of a vampire, but—”

Oh god. Oh god.

Heeseung.

You have no idea if he made it home safe after parting ways with you and you have no way of checking. He hadn’t made any indication as to where he lived before saying goodnight. For all you know, he could have been heading in the direction of the river. He could have been at the river. Right when the attacks occurred.

Doubling down on your phone, you scour the article for any information you can find on the victims. Objectively, it’s probably a good thing that they’re described only vaguely. Probably an intentional choice to protect the privacy of grieving friends and families.

But ‘three victims, two men and one woman, all in their early twenties’ does very, very little to assuage your terror. In fact, it only heightens it.

Blood pounding in your ears and dread pooling in your stomach, thirty minutes passes in the blink of an eye, you nearly miss your stop. But as you get off of the bus, you’re spiraling. Should you even be here? It feels wrong, leaving such a terrifying loose end untied.

But then you think it through a little further. Even if you got back on the bus, rode it all the way to the stop by your apartment, you have no idea where you’d go from there. You may have shared insults and confidence and a moment under the moonlight with Heeseung, but you don’t know anything about him. Where he lives, where to reach him, where he could possibly be right now.

But Professor Kim might. You’re sure that student information is strictly confidential, but if you explain the situation to him, he might be understanding, might just be willing to bend the rules a bit for you.

So with a heaviness in your heart and fire in your footsteps, you double check the address of New Haven’s office and start walking away from the bus stop. Your surroundings are not a primary area of your focus, but it does strike you as odd how deserted the whole area seems.

Other than a few residential looking buildings, the street you walk is mostly empty lots. Abandoned houses. Not the kind of place you would consider ideal for any business.

Despite the cold morning sunshine, the afternoon has brought a cover of clouds. Squinting towards the distance, you wonder if you should have brought your umbrella, just in case. It almost looks as if it’s going to rain.

When you do finally find the building, you have to stop to double check the address. Not only is there no signage, but New Haven’s supposed headquarters looks just as run down as all of the other buildings in the area.

Frowning, you reread your email. The address does match the faded numbers next to the front door, and Professor Kim seems too meticulous to make a mistake like an incorrect address. Then again, he also seems too well off to run his publishing company out of a decrepit building far away from any of the city’s major business centers.

But you won’t bother worrying about it now. Even your dreary first draft feels like an afterthought at this point. Who cares if the building’s not what you expected, if the location isn’t ideal? Right now, you need to focus on finding Heeseung, on making sure he’s okay.

Because the alternative…

No, you refuse to let yourself spiral there either. But the pressure of grief borrowed from the future is already pressing firmly against the backs of your eyelids, blurring your surroundings.

As you approach the front door, you notice a small, faded placard.

New Haven. Well, at least that confirms that you’re in the right spot. Even if it is a bit odd that they left off Publishing.

Standing at the door, you hesitate. Should you knock? Just walk in? You take a sidelong glance at the window, scanning for any sign of movement. But there’s nothing there. In fact, it looks as if the lights are off.

Dark, quiet, desolate. Strange, yes, but not something you’ll waste time ruminating on now.

You knock once. Twice. The sound echoes; the only response is the whistling of the wind.

Deep in the pit of your stomach, a sense of unease begins to build. It feels off, like something is wrong. Senses on high alert, you force the feeling aside. You need a way to find Heeseung, to make sure he’s okay. Besides, the lingering unease is probably just the anxiety of not knowing if he’s safe.

Steeling your resolve, you reach for the door handle, twisting it tentatively. It opens slowly, the hinges groaning in protest. As if the building itself doesn’t want you there. Stepping inside does little to shake the feeling. Dark and devoid of any decoration, the interior is nearly as gloomy as the sunless sky outside.

And even the layout of the building is strange. The front door opens to a long, dark hallway with no lights on. It’s eerily quiet. Too quiet. Too empty. You weren’t expecting a welcoming party by any means, but it’s hard to imagine anyone, much less Professor Kim, even being here.

“Hello?” You call, clutching your bag a little closer to your body, suppressing the shudder that licks at the base of your spine. “Professor Kim?” You wait a moment, but sustained silence is the only response.

Forcing your footsteps forward, you tread tentatively down the hallway. After all, you didn’t come this far just to turn around. Especially now that Professor Kim might be your only way of finding Heeseung.

Taking slow steps down the dark hallway, you pass two doors, both of them pulled shut. The end of the hall opens into a larger room, still empty of any furnishings. It certainly doesn’t look like a publishing house. It doesn't look like much at all. At the very least, there’s a bit more visibility here, faint traces of faded daylight streaming in through the half drawn blinds on the other side of the room.

Turning to your left, you see another door. This one is also pulled shut, but there’s a name placard on the front. Drawing closer, you read your professor’s name. It still doesn't feel right. Ducking down slightly, you check the gap between the bottom of the door and the hardwood floor for any sign of light, of movement. But it’s just as dark, just as quiet as the rest of the strange building.

As you stand back up to your full height, you raise a hand to knock. Just before your knuckles make contact with the door, you see it. An odd array of crimson stains near the handle. Peering closer, your brow furrows in a combination of disgust and confusion.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think it looked like blood.

But that doesn’t make any sense. None of this does. You won’t pretend to know Professor Kim, but he’s never shown up to a lecture with so much as a hair out of place. Why on earth would he run his publishing company out of a building that’s nearly falling apart? Why would there be strange, suspicious looking stains on the door to his office? Why would it be empty at the time he asked you to come present your draft and tour your future internship location?

You have no idea what to do. Opening the door to his office and letting yourself in would feel like an inappropriate invasion of privacy, but you’re at a loss. This entire thing is so strange.

Before you can decide how to proceed, you hear something. A faint noise, barely there, but distinct from the wind that still whistles outside. It’s disjointed, arrhythmic like the sound of hushed voices. Overlapping. Arguing, maybe.

Inclining your head, your brow creases further. It sounds like it’s coming from your professor’s office, but how could it be? The noises are too muffled, too distant to be coming from right in front of you.

You lean closer. Deciding you’re past the point of maintaining decorum, you press your ear to the door, careful to avoid any of the suspicious looking stains.

For a moment, you hear nothing. Half convinced the voices were nothing but a figment of your overactive imagination, you almost pull away.

But then you hear them again. Still muffled, still indecipherable, but undoubtedly louder than before. Which means they must be coming from behind the door. The voices pause, suspend you in silence once again.

And then you hear another noise, different this time. Less like a voice and more like movement. Scuffling, maybe. Feet dragging against the floor. It’s punctuated by a strange gurgling noise. Something wet and thick and throaty. The kind of sound that makes you wince in a subconscious reaction.

And then a sudden thump has your bones jolting beneath your skin, everything muscle in your body tensing as you suppress an uninvited gasp. Because that didn’t sound far away. It was loud, too loud to be anywhere but right on the other side of the door.

Mild unease is quick to transform into sheer panic as you stagger backwards on shaky footsteps. You need to leave. You need to leave now.

You’ll find another way to get ahold of Heeseung, to make sure he’s okay. And maybe there’s a rational explanation for all of this. Maybe this is an old New Haven office and Professor Kim forgot to send you the new address. Maybe there’s an email in your inbox now, and he’s apologizing for the oversight and rescheduling your draft meeting. Maybe he’s—

The sound of the front door you walked in through minutes ago slamming shut kills the train of thought. This time, you can’t bite down the noise that crawls up your throat.

It’s stupid, from a logical perspective. A fatal flaw of human nature that your first instinct is to scream. To alert whatever danger surely lurks nearby of your exact location, the precise depth of your fear.

But the terror that leaves your lips is muffled. It comes from behind, the palm that covers your mouth. The outline of a body that presses into your back, forces you into submission with a hand around your wrist.

You thrash against the ironclad grip to no avail. Dig your heels into the ground but find little purchase in the hardwood floor as you’re dragged backwards, every nerve in your body singing with terror as you’re forced into a dark room. Even with your elbows flailing and head jerking, the grip on you remains steady, firm.

In the end, it’s a bite that frees you. The hand that covers your mouth drops away as soon as you sink your teeth into the flesh of your captor’s fingers. There’s a muffled grunt of pain in your ear as you spin on your heel.

Again, it’s stupid. You should be running, sprinting in the opposite direction, but everything in you is begging to know. To gain some sense of control over the situation. Eyes still adjusting to the dark and blinded by fear, you turn to find—

“Heeseung?” Your mind is spinning a million miles a minute. There are too many thoughts, too many emotions to keep up with. Relief. Fear. Confusion.

Relief, because he’s okay and he’s here, but—

“What are you doing?” You have a million questions that demand answers. “Why are you here? Why did you grab me like th—”

“Are you okay?” Heeseung takes a step closer to you, reaches his hands out as if to grab you again. Thinking better of it, he lets them fall back to his side with a slight shake of his head. There’s terror in his eyes too when he clarifies, “You’re not hurt?”

“No, I…” What the hell is going on? “I’m fine, but—”

A flash of relief makes itself apparent on Heeseung’s features before they’re morphing again, regaining all the urgency, the fear that was there before. He’s serious, gravely so when he tells you, “We have to get out of here.”

“Okay,” you stumble forward as he reaches for your wrist again, intent on tugging you behind him. “But I don’t understand. What’s—”

“I’ll explain everything later.” He’s frantic, you realize. Desperate. And so terribly afraid. Emotions you’ve never seen him wear. Not in the cool, calm mask of indifference he had in class. Not in the faint flickers of vulnerability from stolen moments under moonlight. This is different. This is so much worse. “But we have to go. Now.”

With that much command in his voice, that much fear in his eyes, you’re putty in his hands. But in the end, it makes little difference. The door to the room he’s dragged you into opens with a resounding bang before the two of you can make your escape. The sound is so loud, so frightening that you feel reverberations in your marrow as the door collides with the room’s interior wall, no doubt leaving a sizable dent.

And standing there, shrouded by the gray tones of sunless winter daylight, your professor blocks the room’s only exit.

Instinctively, you take a step closer to Heeseung. He does the same, pulling you towards him, behind him, until half of your body is covered by his. Peering over his shoulder, the sight that greets you is one that will haunt waking nightmares for a long time to come.

Professor Kim, who always prided himself on maintaining a neat, clean appearance couldn’t be further from that now. His clothes are ripped, hanging from his body at odd angles, adding an element of disfigured monstrosity to his silhouette.

And his eyes. His eyes. Bloodshot and so wide they must hurt, they dart around the room, narrow in on you and Heeseung like he doesn’t see humans. Only targets. Enemies. Prey. Mouth open and snarling, you swear you see a glint in his mouth, the shape of a tooth far too long and pointed to belong to any normal person.

But even those things you could force yourself to forget.

What horrifies you the most is the blood. Even in the shadows, the unnaturally potent shade of crimson is unmistakable. It stains him, covers him, drips from him. Seeps from his clothes and his skin and his mouth.

Panic clawing at your throat, you suppress the urge to vomit.

“Get behind me,” Heeseung whispers, low. “Now.”

But a split second of averted attention is all your professor needs. Professor Kim, lover of literature, beacon of taste, a role model you’ve looked up to since the first time you stepped foot in his class a handful of months ago, pinches a tiny object between his long, bony, blood-covered fingers. And then he throws it.

With startling precision, it whistles through the air, races through a hazy cloud of confusion and panic before it strikes its target true.

It doesn’t hurt, not really. The hand that flies to the side of your neck is instinct, more than anything. But the fingers that linger on your pulse point don’t find the smooth expanse of your unblemished throat that they usually would.

Because there’s something there now. An object lodged just beneath your jaw. Delicately, you draw your hand back in front of your face. There’s no blood on your fingers, but that doesn’t stop them from shaking.

As you look over Heeseung’s shoulder, the world starts to blur around the edges. Darken, as if your eyes are closing of their own volition, against your will. You see him retreat, the terrible ghost of your professor. In the dark, he looks almost forlorn. Regretful.

“Fuck,” Heeseung whispers. He doesn’t see the way your professor spins on his heel, runs in the opposite direction. His attention is trained fully on the space beneath your jaw. “Fuck.”

“Heeseung?” Your voice sounds strange to your own ears. Distant, muffled as if you’re submerged beneath water. You have so many questions.

But it’s suddenly so cold. And you’re so tired. Wouldn’t it be nice to just lay down? Rest for a moment? Surely that couldn’t hurt anything.

Your legs are wobbly beneath you, and you would collapse to the floor in an ungraceful heap if it weren’t for the two hands on your waist, supporting your weight.

“I’m here,” he tells you. Cold. When did it get so cold? Your eyes try to focus on Heeseung, but your vision is swimming. You wonder if he would be warm. “I’m right here. Just… fuck.”

Gently, he eases you both to the ground. The floor is hard beneath you, but it feels like a reprieve. You’re tired of holding the weight of your body upright. Your blinking is becoming slow, lethargic. Your head is suddenly far too heavy for your neck.

Slowly, Heeseung removes his hands from your waist, relocates them to either side of your jaw. With the care of someone well versed in patience, he delicately maneuvers your head to the side, exposing the length of your neck.

Whatever he finds there must be displeasing. You can’t imagine why. You can’t think much of anything. The world has taken on a sort of dreamlike quality in which everything feels loose, fluid and unburdened by the laws of any physics.

“Fuck,” he whispers for the fourth time. The curse scatters over your cheekbone like a kiss.

Pulling back slightly, he meets your half-closed eyes. “I’m sorry.” It sounds like a prayer. “This might…” he swallows, something in his resolve wavering. “This might hurt.”

Pain. You can barely conceptualize the sensation. It feels like a distant memory.

And then he’s tilting your head to the side again. His face draws closer, overcomes the last of your remaining senses, demands the full attention of what’s left of your consciousness.

You think he might kiss you. Whatever desire remains in you almost wishes he would.

Your eyes flutter shut, lips parting slightly as your eyelashes fan against the tops of your cheeks.

But his mouth never finds yours. Instead, you feel the soft caress of his lips against the side of your neck, a fleeting touch against the sensitive skin just beneath your jaw. Inhibitions whittled to nothing, you shudder against the sensation, release the airy ghost of a sigh.

He was wrong, you think. With his mouth on your neck, pain is the last thing you feel.

You feel his lips part against your skin, chasing away some of the cold that has only seeped deeper into bones, into the very essence of your being.

And then you feel it. Whatever capacity for sensation that remains all focuses on the sudden flash of agony as his teeth pierce the skin of your throat.

The tiny moan that escapes your lips is pitiful. Your ability to think, to rationalize, feels like something that’s dangling in front of you, just out of reach. Your body is too heavy, too weak to respond to the flash of searing pain as your skin is pierced deeper.

He can’t speak, but you feel the shallow vibration of a hum against your neck. Soothing, calming. His hand that doesn’t bear the weight of your head moves to push a stray strand of hair from your forehead. It’s gentle, reverent. In complete opposition to the war he wages against your neck.

Mouth still full of you, a groan escapes him. It’s heady, throaty, and you feel it travel the length of your spine, settle in the pit of your stomach. Sensation is the only thing tethering you to this world, and you can’t quite tell if this is pleasure or pain.

He pulls back, the absence of his steady heat leaving your jaw vulnerable to the chill in the air.

“Hold on,” you hear. You can’t pinpoint where the noise comes from. Sound surrounds you, washes over you in a strange uniformity. You feel the ground fall away, something warm and solid behind your shoulders and under your knees.“We’ll be there soon.”

Floating, you think. You must be floating. It’s hard to tell. Moments are bleeding into one another too quickly for you to keep up.

Eyes closed, body molten, you relax into the steady grip that carries you.

And the last thing you hear before reality loses its hold is the fervent, whispered sound of your name.

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

CONTINUED IN PART 2 (which can be found on my masterlist!)

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

note: THANK YOUUUUU for reading!!! this is pretty different from what I usually write plot wise, so I hope it made for a good read. vampire heeseung and this oc are near and dear to me, and I'm excited to continue their story. the rest of this fic is fully plotted and partially written. I'm actively continuing to work on it, and hearing your thoughts/theories/screaming/feedback/etc. is great motivation! as always, I love know what you're thinking. ♡

#heeseung fanfiction #heeseung x reader #heeseung fanfic #enhypen fanfic #enhypen x reader #heeseung x you #enhypen x you #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios #heeseung imagines

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heich0e · 4 months

Text

"can i call you later?"

the wind bites at your cheeks, but the sting you feel is as much from the smile on your face as it is from the chill.

"dunno," you muse, pursing your lips as though you're contemplating the question deeply. "can you?"

rintarou groans, but the sound isn't half as plaintive as it ought to be. you watch as his head hangs down defeatedly where his frame is folded over the railing that lines the front of the train station, his body pitched forward over the barrier like he's trying to reach you on the other side.

you've been saying goodbye for the past twenty minutes—or, you've been trying to. sort of. maybe. the train you'd planned to catch has already come and gone, and the next is set to soon arrive. one more and it will be the last of the night, but not even knowing that fact seems to be moving you closer towards the door to the station—content to stay here, like this, as the wind of the late fall night nips at your cheeks and the two of you muddle through your goodbye with the inelegance of two people who couldn't be less committed to it if they tried.

rintarou lifts his head to meet your gaze.

"i mean it, though." he says. "can i call you tonight?"

your stomach flips when he looks at you this way. when he keeps looking at you this way.

"we just spent hours together," you remind him, but your words are too breathy to make impact. too elated to be reproachful.

you've been on three dates with rintarou now. you think they're dates anyway, though it's never explicitly been stated. his invitations are always casual, sandwiched in between all the other texts he sends to you these days, so you might be reading into things too closely for your own good. but dinner doesn't just feel like dinner when rintarou has this way of looking at you like you're the only person he's ever laid his eyes on.

"i know," he answers. it's not an explanation, or an excuse, or even an apology. it's plain acceptance. a shamelessness you find wretchedly endearing.

you glance back at the station behind you, biting the inside of your cheek to temper your delight.

"my train is coming," you say.

he looks a bit crestfallen. laughably glum, considering the circumstances.

you drag the heel of your shoe back ever so slightly, not quite a step—at least not in any meaningful way—but inching in the direction of the doors at a glacial pace. continental drift seems positively hasty in comparison to your retreat.

"bye," he calls, his tone dejected. you watch as he lifts his hand weakly, still slumped over the railing, and waves at you with only a few fingers raised.

you want to laugh, but your chest is so full of something else—something syrupy and fluttering and good—that it's like there's no space for it underneath your ribs.

you call back to him just before you step into the station.

"rintarou—"

there are other people around, stepping between and around you both—rushing into the station to escape the cold, or moving briskly as they brace themselves and step out into it—but you hardly notice them when your eyes meet.

you smile.

"—call me later."

he calls you almost every night after that.

even as the cool autumn winds change with the seasons; carrying flakes of snow as winter blankets nagano, warming with the spring, turning heavy with humidity in summer, and then repeating the cycle anew.

even as your reluctant goodbyes turn from late nights outside of train stations to early morning words whispered under blankets as rintarou leaves for practice or away games.

even as the uncertainty of whether or not you're getting your hopes up—of whether those meetings were even really dates at all—melts away into nothing more than a memory.

you're not even sure what the two of you manage to spend so much time talking about on the phone. nothing, really. everything in its own right. rintarou's phone calls are something you come to look forward to at the end of a long day. something you anticipate when you have exciting news to share. a comfort when you're missing him and a relief when you need him most.

"is that the last one?" you ask, turning just in time to see your boyfriend—your live-in boyfriend now, officially—flop back on the sofa after he drops the last moving box atop the stack piled near the balcony door.

"yeah," he wheezes, evidently winded from the exertion—from the exhaustion—of moving house. you laugh a bit to yourself as you shuffle over to the sofa, leaning over the back so you can peer down at him where he lays sprawled against the cushions.

"aren't you a professional athlete?" you tease him. "shouldn't you have better stamina?"

rintarou cocks a brow, something sly swimming behind his gaze.

"i need better stamina?" he drawls. "you're usually complaining about the opposite."

you roll your eyes in the wake of his remark, grabbing a throw pillow from beneath his head and yanking it from under him unceremoniously, only to press it lightly against his face.

you shuffle back towards the kitchen where you'd left the box you were unpacking abandoned. you grab a plate from inside the cardboard and turn to place it on the shelf you'd decided would house your dinnerware.

"it's late," you tell him, reaching for the next plate in the box. "you should go wash up first."

you don't get a reply, and that surprises you. you creep over to the sofa again, only to find rintarou staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"hey," you laugh a little, leaning on your elbows against the back of the couch. "where'd you go?"

rintarou's gaze snaps back to yours. he still looks at you like he did on your first date. like he did outside the train station on your third. he smiles, bit it's a bit sheepish.

"sorry, was just thinking," he answers quietly. he reaches up from where he's lying on his back, brushing his thumb against your cheek. his smile turns a little bit giddy, then. boyishly charming. "can't believe we finally got a place together."

you lean into his touch, huffing a little breath through your nose—halfway to a laugh.

"guess you won't have to call me anymore," you joke, and rintarou's expression changes—falls slightly—but only for a moment. you realize what you've said, or at least think about the implications more, and you sort of understand the shift.

you fell in love through those phone calls.

you'll miss them—the ritual, the familiarity, the comfort—even though you know they've been replaced by something better.

you turn your face, pressing a fleeting kiss to rintarou's palm. "go wash up," you tell him again, heading back towards the kitchen and your (now twice abandoned) box of plates.

he seems to heed your advice this time, peeling himself up off the sofa and shuffling off in the direction of the washroom.

"don't use all the hot water!" you call after his retreating frame, and you hear him reply noncommittally under his breath before the door clicks closed behind him.

you've only got three dishes left to unpack before your box is emptied, but the shelf you'd been organizing doesn't seem to want to accommodate all of your bowls in the way you wanted, so you're left arranging and rearranging them as you try to find a way to get them to fit.

in the back pocket of your jeans, your phone begins to ring. with three plates balanced in one hand, you reach for it with the other—the movement muscle memory now, instinct more than volition, after all this time. you answer the call without even looking at the screen, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you continue juggling the dishes in front of you.

"oop—hello?"

you pause after you answer the call, realizing for the first time that you shouldn't be getting a call at all. not at this time of night. not in this apartment.

the line is quiet, just the sound of breathing that you could recognize anywhere to be heard from the other end of the call.

"why are you calling me?" you ask rintarou, but the words are light. too fond to be reproachful.

you hear rintarou laugh—from the other end of the call and from the other side of the bathroom door.

"just wanted to hear your voice," he answers you (the same way he has a thousand nights before when you've asked him that same question.)

"you're ridiculous," you tell him, completely enamoured.

"i know," he replies.

it's quiet for a moment as the two of you stand on opposite sides of your apartment. on opposite ends of your call.

you shift a stack of bowls a little to the left. it all fits now. just the way you wanted it to.

"y'know, the hot water won't run out as fast if we shower together—"

you hear the bathroom door open, and when you look over your shoulder, rintarou is peeking at you from around the edge of the door—his phone held to his ear, a smile on his face you know is mirrored on your own, and a look in his eye that's never once wavered.

he tilts his head.

"—wanna join me?"

#do not. look at me #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #hq drabble #hq writing #writing

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darkstaria · 4 months

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Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal AU.

Chapter 1:

----

Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5.

Dark pupils watched from the ceiling, their gaze affixed upon you. You sighed, deciding to ignore its presence.

An aggravated chitter interrupted you. Pausing, you watched as a little green bird jumped out of the bat’s shadow. It paced towards you, making a small leap to land on your outstretched finger. You smiled, extending your hand to pet the top of its head. The bird took a moment to consider the moment, head tilting with its beak outstretched as if it intended to bite you. It seemed to decide on sparing your finger, allowing you to give the bird some pets on the head.

However, it was time to resume your work. You turned back to your computer, a dismissal. The bird didn't like that. A quick flash, and the bird tittered about on your keyboard, messing up your setup.

“Robin!” You snap, reaching out as if to push the bird away.

You sighed. You disliked calling the bird Robin. It was the correct species, despite the bird being green, so it made sense to use the name. But.. you hated the connection it created between your soul bonded animals and the vigilantes of the city. Unfortunately, the bird didn't answer to any other name. You've tried.

The other robins were so much more agreeable than this newer one. Well, not that you could even call those three robin anymore. The newer robin was very possessive of the name, and you'd rather not have to search your room for more stray feathers that flew off in their next fight. Your soul animals were such a pain.

The flutter of wings distracts you from your musings. You look up, finding the very bat you had been so cautiously avoiding earlier descend onto your desk. The bat chirped a little, with the robin occasionally replying back with chirps of its own. They were having their own conversation.

You decided you were owed a break already, so you gave up on your dreams of getting work done in lieu of watching the ongoing conversation. It was rare for soul animals to talk. They didn't need to. Due to the nature of a soul bond, soul animals act on the innermost feelings of the soul they represent. The bond connects souls, so soul animals, which are a manifestation of the bond, are already intune with their soulmates.

The only instance in which soul animals did tend to talk, was if the soulmates themselves were talking.

Robin chittured with a snap, the bat in return giving a controlled chirr.

Oooh. You thought to yourself. This sounds like an argument. You wondered what it was about. Maybe Robin pecked one too many victims, or caused a mess again.

Ah. You were thinking of your bonded as just animals again. To be fair, it was fairly easy. The only things you knew of your soulmates were because of how the animals acted. Anything else, and you were in the dark. That's how you wanted to think, anyway.

Maybe while they were distracted… You scoot back a little in your chair, until you figure you’re out of their line of sight. You make for the door, tipping out of your seat as quietly as you can. You're almost out the door when a weight settles itself on your head.

You sigh.

“Robin. Get off me, please.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the presence doesn't budge. Obliging, you reach up to your head, feeling the bird’s little feet jump onto your hand. Bringing Robin to eye level, you stare at it, unimpressed.

A nearby bat of wings draws you out of your faceoff. Guess sneaking out on your own was too much to ask for, as always.

“Ughhh.” You whine. Your soulmates were going to push you into complete isolation at this rate.

“Fine. You two already know the drill.”

You point at the Bat. “You can never follow me, I mean it. A bat is way too ominous of a soul animal to be flying around. It's just asking for trouble.”

The Bat remains silent, watching. Always, watching. You really hated it sometimes.

In all honesty, a robin wasn't too great of a soul animal to have with you in Gotham either. But your robins came in odd colours, so people didn't always clock that the bird was actually a robin. Sometimes you said that your soul animal was a greenfinch or a swallow. It tended to work, as long as no one looked twice.

A bat was much harder to hide.

“So..”. You give up, gesturing to your bag. “Just get in already, I'll make the trip quick.” You always had to make any outings short with this particular robin. If you spent too long with someone it got snippy. Very, snippy.

The other three robins tended to be a bit more accommodating. Well, not by much.

Robin glides into your bag, a movement of precision and grace. Not for the first time, you wonder what your bonded was like in person.

Deciding to dismiss the thought, you unlatch your door, heading out.

Just another day, with your soulmates.

~ ~ ~ ~

Your parents told you about your birth. You were born to a bat watching your window. It wasn't such a red flag, at first. The maternity ward was flush with newborn babes, so your parents figured that the bat was bound to another child. It was what they had hoped for, anyway.

Plenty of children weren't born with soulbonds. It wasn't a concern. They could be the elder of a bond. Or, they could have a delayed bond. They weren't concerned.

But… then it followed you home. Your parents settled you down, snug in your crib. When they next came to check up upon you, it was there. Perched upon the crib, watching you. When they next blinked, it was gone.

The very next day, your parents awoke to the Bat watching you again. But this time, a smaller bird was snuggled to your sleeping face. It clung to you all day, refusing to disappear when they appeared like the Bat did. It was… very mouthy.

They had assumed this to be a good development, everyone knew The Night worked alone. They were happy.

They were happy, even when another robin appeared the subsequent day. A scruffy one, snappy. Its feathers were still growing out. Young.

Perhaps they should have expected then, that the dawn the next new day would bring another little bird to your crib. The youngest one, a nestling still developing pin feathers. Despite its age, it held a keen gaze at them.

There weren't any more animals that appeared after that. So they hid any evidence of the Bat, and instead allowed you to grow up freely with your three birds.

The Bat was evidently the oldest in your soulbond. It was protective, almost parental, in its movements. It had a sixth sense for when you were in any danger, always emerging from the shadows with perfect timing. If a bat wasn't such a symbolic image in Gotham, you'd probably be more appreciative of its efforts.

The eldest bird was silly, performing aerial tricks and jumps that always brightened your day. It was keen, focusing on you whenever you felt down. It had the uncanny ability to appear whenever you were under the weather. When you said the word robin, it snapped to attention.

You decided to call it Robin.

The second bird was protective. It wasn't as loud as the eldest, but there was a spark of kindness in its gaze. Originally the bird was a lot rougher, but it started to calm down a few years in. Became stable. It always seemed to find you when you got stuck on homework, or landed on your shoulder whenever you flipped through a book.

The third bird was small. You assumed it was only a year or two older than you, due to how the bird’s feathers grew in. It wasn't as affectionate as the other two. Solitary, it often lingered in the shade. It watched you. It watched your other soul animals too, when they appeared. It seemed a little tired. It took you a bit, but eventually you realised it was lonely. After that, you always had a comforting word.

That is… until the Batman gained a partner. A boy decked out in green and yellow, the same feathers on your eldest bird. The vigilante called itself Robin.

As the duo gained notoriety, you were hidden more and more. There was danger in soulbonds, and nothing was more dangerous than vigilantes.

Robin became Nightwing. Your eldest bird grew in blue feathers. The bird stopped responding to its name. A new boy became Robin. You spotted green and yellow feathers growing in on your second bird. It started answering to Robin.

You knew who your soulmates were. After that, it was no secret. Not to you, not to your parents.

Your parents weren't happy anymore. But you were safe. They could be content with that. They considered reaching out. The evidence was obvious, they knew it, and you knew it. Maybe you could be even safer, if the Batman knew where you were.

And then you watched your Robin die.

The little bird had been stuck to you recently, seeming to be in an argument with the Bat. When in conflict, soul animals gravitated to those they weren't in disparity with, and this was nothing unfamiliar to you.

You had been stroking the little bird, as it rested on your lap. But then it jumped. It started shaking. It started crying. Bleeding.

You panicked. You tried to comfort it, to whisper caring words, to give a reassuring touch. You were young, you didn't know what to do. There was nothing you could do.

When a soulmate dies, the soul animal dies too.

The little Robin died, crying in your lap.

You had never looked at vigilantes the same way again.

There was no point in denial, not after that. Your bat became the Bat, the eldest robin named Wing. A few days later, your youngest soul animal developed new feathers. Green… and red. You didn't have a name for the bird, but you suspected you would soon.

You took a week off school.

~ ~ ~ ~

“Please be quiet, this time.” You muttered down to the green bird resting in your bag. It started at you with a condescending gaze. Ugh. Younger soulmates.

You'd sigh, but you've been doing that far too much lately as is.

Time to get this over with.

You enter the supermarket, one of your very few weekly outings. You start perusing the shelves, picking out what was in your list. As you're walking though, you hear a frustrated bark. You peak out from the shelves, spotting a lone woman tugging a leashed dog along.

Ah. You knew what this was. Everyone did. The other shoppers in the store paused too, staring at what was going on.

It was a rejected bond. When feelings between single soulbonded individuals become too bitter, the soul animal dissipates. Well, it was supposed to, and then reappear when feelings improve. But if the animal was constrained in some manner, then the animal can't disappear and is forced to remain in a physical form.

Judging from the leash on the dog’s neck, this was that same scenario. It was rather bold of the woman to bring the soul animal out in public if it was rejecting her like this. Almost brave.

Gothamites rarely helped each other, but things became a little sensitive with soul animals. You wouldn't be too surprised if there wasn't at least one attempt to free the dog today. It certainly caught attention. It could even catch.. vigilante attention.

You frowned. It was a shame to cut one of your few outings short. Sometimes there was no alternative though. You certainly wouldn't be sticking around.

You jumped at the sound of a shriek, eyes darting down to your bag where Robin rested. Robin glared venomously at your shoulder, and you glanced at it.

Your shoulder where… Ah. That would do it. Your shoulder where Red rested. Your third robin. You felt like crying. Why, why this pair?

You didn't even feel the bird as it appeared. Was that a testament to Red's stealth or your lacking observational skills?

Robin glared daggers at Red, practically hissing. You didn't even know birds could hiss. Red paid him no mind, instead looking very settled on your shoulder. The bird even snuggled your face a little. What a smug guy.

Another bark caught your attention. You glanced forward, remembering the scene. Your soul animal’s squabbling would draw too much attention. If any of the vigilantes were watching, you'd be in trouble. One robin soul animal was potentially excusable. But two? That would get you caught.

You tried to shush the two, a small signal for them to knock it off. Naturally, because it was these two, they ignored you. You groaned. This was far too public.

You grabbed Red, snatching him off your shoulder as gently as you could. Placing him gently into your shoulder bag, you tried your best to pretend the resulting screech from Robin wasn’t noticeable. The flap of your bag was closed, so no one could spot them… They could certainly hear if they came close enough though.

Time to leave. You paid for what you picked up and dashed out. The sight of rejected soulmates was generally considered disturbing, so anyone watching could just attribute your rush to that.

Were you paranoid?

Mayhaps a little.

You've justified it by the fact that you're probably soulmates with Batman and 4 robins, so paranoia is practically a requirement for your soul.

____

Hello ^ ^ welcome to my soulmate au! I do hope you enjoyed.

If you have any questions about the au, please feel free to reach out :D

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livwritesstuff · 17 days

Text

“How was your day?” Steve asked his and Eddie’s oldest daughter Moe.

“Fine,” Moe shrugged before shoveling a handful of chips into her mouth. She finished chewing and swallowed before she added, “Some guy asked me to homecoming.”

Eddie felt himself freeze a little and he did his best to avoid glancing at Steve because she’s their oldest and she’s fifteen and Eddie’s pretty sure that this was the first time the notion of dating in any capacity has come up all on its own.

“Some guy?” Steve repeats nonchalantly.

“Well,” Moe clarifies, “Not some guy, I guess. He’s in my science class, and we sit together because we’re apparently the only two people who know how to shut the fuck up. He’s a lot dumber than I thought though.”

“What does that mean?”

“C’mon, Pop,” Moe says, looking at her dad like he’s a total moron, “Who looks at me,” she gestures down at her general self, “and actually thinks I’m looking for a boy to ask me to homecoming?”

And Moe is back to fishing around for viable chips in the mostly-empty bag, so Eddie doesn’t bother to hide the wide-eyed Look he sends Steve’s way because, sure, maybe Eddie and Steve have speculated (mused, pondered, wondered, et cetera) about whether or not their oldest daughter might lean more to the right on the good ol’ Kinsey Scale, but they’d never actually talked to Moe about it.

Steve only raises his eyebrows in response before his attention is back on Moe.

“So?” he prompts her, “Did you say yes?”

Moe just gives him another one of those judgy, teenager looks.

“No,” she says, like it’s obvious.

Steve narrows his eyes at her, “Were you nice when you said no?”

“Why should I have to be nice?”

“‘Cause he’s a person, Moe,” Steve reminds her. By no means is this the first time he’s had to give Moe an “other people have feelings”-kind of conversation, and Eddie didn’t feel like he was required to stick around for this one, so off he went.

(On his way to call Robin and let her know Nancy lost one of their bets).

#later eddie tells steve: one down two to go #steve: you can’t say that #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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midnightcrw · 8 months

Text

Provocative

Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader

Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of discrimination (this is fluff, by the way)

a/n: This is my first time writing for Alastor and anything related to the Hazbin Hotel, so I hope you all will like it. Please tell me if there's anything in this one shot that might offend anyone, and I'll do my best to change it or clarify my thought process.

Charlie was walking around in circles because of the fact that her dad was going to come over to the hazbin hotel for the first time.

And while everyone seemed quite unbothered, she couldn't calm down while Vaggie was currently helping Sir Pentious put up the decorations.

"You have been walking around in circles for the last fifteen minutes, darling," your voice was heard as you put a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

She stopped abruptly as she felt the weight on her shoulder and turned her head slightly to look into your eyes, "It's just been a while since I've seen him and I really want this to go well."

Her usual optimistic tone was much less energetic and confident as she started to look around, clearly avoiding your eyes.

You let out a sigh, a small smile finding its way to your lips as you cupped her chin between your thumb and forefinger, "There's nothing to panic about. I'm sure everything will go perfectly."

Your words seemed to calm the blonde down a bit as she gave you a slight nod, "I hope you're right," she muttered as you let go of her chin.

With that, Charlie made her way over to Vaggie to look at the decorations she had put up with Sir Pentious.

You just smiled at the sight when you suddenly heard a low static behind you, "She's been all over the place since the call," Alastor mused, his sharp grin never leaving his face.

Rolling your eyes at him, you opened your mouth to speak, "Let her be, she's trying her best."

"Oh, I know, my dear. I want the best for Charlie too," Alastor's words made you shake your head, knowing there was more to it, but even with you, he wasn't eager to share that information.

If you had known that you would be bound to him even in hell, you would have run as fast as you could in your mortal life.

But your 'lovely' husband had a way with words even then. Even if the two of you didn't marry for love, there was definitely something there.

Back in New Orleans, Alastor had a hard time because he was half Creole. He was always at a disadvantage because he did not fit into the standard, even though he tried his best to somehow blend in.

But radio was really the perfect solution and a passion of his. It even helped him because no one saw his face and only had to listen to his voice, which even he had forced to sound different, his usual deep tone becoming much higher to fit into the society.

And once he became famous, he even started to change his appearance. His usually dark brown wavy hair was straightened by him, while he also started to dress like the rest of the crowd.

But even then it never seemed to be enough. His tan complexion was still striking to some, as people began to gossip about him from time to time.

The prejudices against him never stopped, as people even started to question him because he wasn't married, making him out to be a cruel man who couldn't even find love, and that's where you came in, to get rid of at least one of the many talked about topics about him. At least then the people of New Orleans would know that Alastor really was a lovable man.

You really couldn't have cared less about the standards and the gossip that had made its way when Alastor started to pursue you back then. Even though he did not even reveal his intentions at first, you could still tell that there was more to it than just love in itself.

And even after he revealed his true intention behind a marriage, you accepted it. You didn't really have anything to lose anyway, and his charming words seemed to sway you somehow.

However, getting married and playing the role of a happily married couple had been a struggle. Both of you being at each other's throats, but never really being able to truly hate each other, was definitely odd.

But leaving that aside for now, there were more important matters at hand as you let go of your thoughts of the past.

"Just don't ruin this for her," your stern tone was obvious and with that you went over to help Niffty with cleaning up.

A few minutes passed and everything seemed to be perfect now, but not for Charlie.

"What if he hates the way the hotel looks?" She asked herself, her hands pulling tightly on her hair.

"He won't. You don't have to worry. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you at all," Vaggie said in a reassuring voice as she put an arm around her girlfriend's shoulder and gave her a small kiss on the forehead.

That little gesture made Charlie blush as she leaned against Vaggie, trying to calm herself, and when she felt ready, she made her way to the door.

"Okay everyone, it's showtime!" She said with a smile on her face, looking at everyone as the door was suddenly flung open by Lucifer, who said his daughters name and hugged her tightly.

Standing near the door, Alastor looked at the two of them with a crazy glint in his eyes and his never-ending smile showing his teeth.

And that's when you knew that this wasn't going to end well.

As Lucifer looked around the hotel, Alastor didn't seem happy at all, angry at the fact that he was being ignored.

"It's got a lot of character... What in the unholy hell is that?" Lucifer asked in a disbelieving tone, as a frown made its way onto his face.

Already knowing that Alastor wasn't going to hold back now, you let out a heavy sigh as you rubbed your temple.

"Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit of color, don't you think?" Your husband's voice was heard as Lucifer then proceeded to ask who he even was.

And with the blink of an eye, Alastor is now at Lucifer's side. "I'm Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure," he replied as he wiped his hand on his coat.

You were about to slam your head against the wall when you felt someone tugging at your dress. "He's a bad boy," Niffty said in an excited tone, staring at the King of Hell while you just felt a shiver run down your spine in disgust at your friend being lusted upon.

"You might have heard of me from my radio broadcast," Alastor said with a sinister grin on his face as he held his microphone. Knowing him, he loves to be acknowledged and it didn't look like Lucifer was going to give him any of that.

"Nope, I guess that's why Charlie called it the Hazbin Hotel," Lucifer said, emphasizing the 'haz'.

"Hahaha! It was actually my idea!"

"Hahaha! Well, it's not very clever!"

"Haha! Fuck you!"

Hearing that, you immediately made your way to Alastor as you and Charlie interrupted them, earning a look of shock from Lucifer.

"Is it really you?" Lucifer asked, his eyes wide as he looked at you. And before you could even answer, he threw himself at you, nearly crushing you to a second death and leaving you breathless.

"It's been years!" The King of Hell shouted as he let go of you to examine your face. You let out a chuckle, "It has indeed been a long time."

The interaction between the two of you naturally caught everyone's attention, as they all had a confused look on their faces, except for Alastor, who seemed to be losing his patience by the second.

Not even letting you two continue reminiscing, Alastor put an arm around your waist, causing you to gasp in surprise, as he wasn't usually the one to show off your relationship, especially to Overlords and anyone above that position.

"From where do you know him, my love?" Alastor's static-like voice was heard loud and clear as he pulled you even closer.

Before you could answer, Lucifer interrupted. "My love?!" He asked in disbelief and disgust.

"Oh, yes. 'My love,' the beautiful woman I'm so smitten by," Alastor was really putting on a show as he even planted a small kiss on your temple.

Your arm made its way around your husband's back as you pinched his waist in annoyance, eliciting a small static screech from Alastor.

"You really have some nerve, don't you?" you whispered in a caustic tone as your face came closer to his, wanting only him to hear it.

But even with that, the man dressed in red didn't shy away to take it completely somewhere else, "Just a few minutes, my darling. Then we'll have some time alone. Oh, and how she loves it, almost shameless, isn't she?" Alastor went on talking while you cursed him in your head.

You knew he was only doing it to rile Lucifer up, but of course the rest of them didn't know that.

"So Freaky Face does fuck," Angel Dust mused with a grin on his face as Husk slapped him on the back of the head.

"You sleep with that?" Lucifer asked in a disgusted tone as he ran towards you, pulling you out of Alastor's tight grip as he took a few steps away from your husband.

"Are you sure this is what you want for your future? Are you even sure it is worth of dating?" The short man asked you, almost even praying for you.

You apparently forgot to mention that you and Alastor have been married for decades, but you definitely wouldn't tell him that right now.

"It's a he," you simply replied.

"Well, I couldn't care less about it."

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor imagine #alastor fanfiction #alastor fluff #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fluff

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rvp32 · 2 months

Text

One Step at a Time

Mina is an idol, a princess, and an enigma. She was a star that burned brightly in the sky but always just out of your reach. She was a beauty like none other, like an angel who had descended onto Earth. She was your best friend, with whom you shared everything—everything except the one secret you kept hidden because you were scared of ruining the friendship you cherished the most.

“Mina, we need to leave soon. The music video shoot will start in a bit,” you reminded her as you finished packing some necessities.

Mina emerged from her room, her radiant smile lighting up the space. “Yes! Just one sec, I need to grab my Switch from the console,” she said, heading to the TV.

You watched her with a mixture of admiration and longing. She was effortlessly graceful, her every movement a dance, every glance a spark of life. Being her manager had its challenges, but the hardest part was hiding your feelings. You admired her from afar, cherishing every moment you spent together, yet always mindful of the line you couldn’t cross.

As Mina gathered her things, you took a deep breath, steadying yourself for another day of keeping your emotions in check. You loved her dearly, more than she could ever know. The way her eyes sparkled with excitement, her laugh that could brighten the darkest day, her unwavering dedication to her craft—every aspect of her drew you in deeper.

Your mind drifted back to the countless nights you’d spent talking about dreams, fears, and everything in between. She was your confidante, your muse, your everything. But you were just her manager, her best friend, the one who was always there but never close enough.

“Got it! Let’s go,” Mina called out, breaking your reverie. She flashed you a smile, and your heart ached with the weight of your unspoken words.

As you made your way to the car, you stole glances at her, committing every detail to memory. The way her hair caught the light, the subtle scent of her perfume, the way her eyes twinkled with anticipation. Each detail was a precious fragment of the person you loved but could never claim.

“How are you feeling today? Are you ready for the shoot?” you asked, occasionally stealing glances at Mina through the rearview mirror.

“Yes! Thanks to you I got some much-needed rest. If you hadn’t taken my Switch, I might have ended up playing the entire night,” Mina said with a playful smile.

You chuckled. “Well, someone has to look out for you. You know how you get with those games.”

“I do, I do. And you’re always there to keep me in check,” she replied, her tone affectionate. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You felt a pang in your chest but kept your voice light. “Probably pull a few all-nighters and show up to shoots with panda eyes.”

Mina laughed, the sound like music to your ears. “True! And then you’d have to deal with a grumpy, sleep-deprived me. Not a pretty sight.”

“Hey, I’ve seen you at your worst, and you still look like an angel,” you said before you could stop yourself.

She blushed slightly, looking out the window. “You’re too kind. Really.”

There was a comfortable silence for a moment, filled with the hum of the car and the city sounds outside. You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your unspoken feelings settle back into place.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today’s shoot?” she asked, changing the subject.

“It’s the final scenes for the music video. Lots of choreography, some close-ups. The director wants to capture that ‘ethereal princess’ vibe you do so well,” you explained.

Mina nodded, her excitement palpable. “I love those kinds of shoots. They’re always so magical.”

“And you make it look effortless,” you added, your admiration clear.

She glanced at you through the mirror, her eyes soft. “I have a good team behind me. Especially you.”

Your heart swelled with emotion. “Just doing my job.”

“More than just your job,” she said quietly. “You’re always there for me, in ways I can’t even begin to describe.”

You swallowed hard, the intensity of your feelings threatening to spill over. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Right,” she echoed, her voice filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

*****

The shoot went smoothly, finishing no later than late afternoon, much faster than scheduled due to Mina’s professionalism.

“Good work, Mina! You were amazing out there!” you complimented her.

“Thank you! I’m so tired,” Mina said, walking toward you to grab the drink you were holding.

“So, what else is on the schedule for today?” she asked, sipping her drink.

“You have group practice coming up later this evening, and by 8 p.m., you should be done and free to go home,” you informed her.

“Yay! I can’t believe I’m getting out so early today!” Mina cheered.

******

Later, you drove her to the JYP Entertainment building. Mina was in high spirits, humming along to the radio as you navigated through the city traffic. Upon arriving, she waved at a few familiar faces and headed towards the practice rooms.

As you walked down the hallway, Mina spotted Hyunjin from Stray Kids. He was leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. When he saw Mina, his face lit up with a warm smile.

“Noona! Great to see you,” Hyunjin greeted, straightening up.

“Hey, Hyunjin! It’s been a while,” Mina replied, returning the smile.

The two of them chatted for a bit, catching up on their busy schedules. You watched them interact, noting the easy camaraderie between them. They laughed and teased each other, the conversation flowing naturally. At one point, Hyunjin playfully ruffled Mina’s hair, and she swatted his hand away, giggling.

“You’re always messing up my hair,” she complained, but her tone was light and affectionate.

“Just keeping you on your toes,” Hyunjin teased back.

The moment was sweet, a reminder of the strong bonds formed within the industry. You felt a pang of jealousy but quickly brushed it aside. Mina’s happiness was what mattered most.

“I’ve got to head to group practice now,” Mina said, glancing at the time. “Catch you later, Hyunjin!”

“Good luck!” Hyunjin called out as she turned to leave.

Mina walked over to you, her smile still lingering from the interaction. “Ready?” she asked.

“Ready,” you replied, leading her to the practice room.

Inside, the other members were already warming up. Mina joined them, her focus shifting seamlessly to the task at hand. You watched from the sidelines, admiring her dedication and skill. She moved with a grace that was both powerful and effortless, her presence commanding the room.

As practice continued, you kept an eye on the time, making sure everything stayed on schedule. Mina’s energy never wavered, her passion for performing evident in every move. You felt a swell of pride, knowing that you played a small part in supporting her journey.

When the clock struck 8 p.m., practice wrapped up. The group exchanged a few words of encouragement before heading out. Mina approached you, her face flushed with exertion but glowing with satisfaction.

“All done for the day,” she said, a hint of relief in her voice.

“Great job today, Mina. You were incredible,” you praised.

“Thanks to you,” she replied softly.

You smiled, your heart full. “Ready to go home?”

“You go on and head home, Hyunjin wanted to grab some food so I am going to meet with him and have him drop me home,” Mina says

Hearing Mina’s gratitude made your heart swell, but it also brought a sharp pang of longing. A part of you wanted to stop her from going, to hold her back and keep her close, but you knew you had no right to do that. Being powerless in this situation, you could do nothing but nod and say, “Okay, good night, be careful!”

She gave you a warm smile. “Good night. See you tomorrow!”

You watched her walk away, every step pulling her further from you. The ache in your chest grew, but you forced a smile, hiding the turmoil within.

After Mina left, you made your way to your office to pack up. The room felt emptier than usual, the silence almost suffocating. You gathered your things, trying to focus on the tasks at hand, but your mind kept drifting back to Mina. The image of her smiling face, and her gentle words, lingered in your thoughts, a bittersweet reminder of what you could never have.

As you headed home, you took a detour through the parking lot. That’s when you saw them—Mina and Hyunjin. They were standing by his car, talking animatedly. Then, to your dismay, Hyunjin pulled her into a hug. She hugged him back, her expression relaxed and happy.

A wave of jealousy crashed over you, raw and intense. You gripped the steering wheel, your knuckles turning white. The helplessness you felt was overwhelming, the realization that you had no place at that moment, no right to feel this way, cutting deep.

Mina and Hyunjin broke apart, and she got into his car. You watched as they drove away, the taillights disappearing into the night. The sense of loss was almost tangible, a hollow ache that settled in your chest.

When you finally arrived home, the emptiness of your apartment felt even more pronounced. You dropped your bag by the door and sank onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. The events of the evening played over and over in your mind, each memory tinged with longing and regret.

You closed your eyes, trying to push away the thoughts, but they persisted. The sight of Mina and Hyunjin together, the easy affection between them—it was a stark reminder of everything you couldn’t have. The love you felt for her, unspoken and unrequited, weighed heavily on your heart.

Reaching for your phone, you scrolled through the photos you had taken during the shoot. Each picture was a testament to Mina’s beauty and talent, but also a painful reminder of the distance between you. You lingered on one photo, in particular, a candid shot of her laughing. It was a moment of pure joy, unguarded and real. You wished you could be the one to make her laugh like that, to share in her happiness in a way that went beyond friendship.

But you knew it was a dream, a fantasy that would never come true. Loving Mina from afar was all you had, and it had to be enough. You had to accept that.

******

This was the last music show Twice would be on for this comeback. The comeback had gone exceptionally well, with the group winning numerous awards. After this final performance, all the members were given some well-deserved free time to relax and enjoy themselves. As everyone waited in the dressing room, the atmosphere was filled with laughter and excitement.

You were busy making sure everything was in order when Hyunjin appeared at the door, carrying bags of food and drinks. He wore a bright smile, his presence immediately lifting the already jubilant mood.

“Hey everyone! I brought some snacks and drinks to celebrate your amazing comeback!” Hyunjin announced, his voice full of enthusiasm.

The members of Twice cheered, grateful for the thoughtful gesture. “Hyunjin! Thank you so much!” they chorused, crowding around him to take the treats.

You watched as Hyunjin handed out the food and drinks, your eyes inevitably drawn to Mina. She accepted a drink with a grateful smile, and then, to your dismay, Hyunjin made a beeline for her. They began chatting animatedly, their laughter filling the room.

You tried to focus on your tasks, but your attention kept drifting back to them. The way Hyunjin leaned in slightly when he spoke, the way Mina’s eyes sparkled with genuine happiness—each detail stoked the fire of jealousy burning in your chest.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Mina gently touch Hyunjin’s arm, her gesture full of warmth and familiarity. It was a small act of affection, but it cut deeply. You felt powerless, standing there with your heart aching and your mind racing.

Trying to shake off the feelings, you busied yourself with organizing the room, making sure everyone had what they needed. But the image of Mina and Hyunjin together was seared into your mind.

Finally, you stepped outside for a moment, needing some air. The hallway was quieter, offering a brief respite from the whirlwind of emotions. You leaned against the wall, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths.

******

It had been two weeks since the holidays started, and as of today, it was the eighth time you were driving Mina to meet with Hyunjin. Each time hurt just as much as the first, and you had finally decided that this would be the last. You had asked to be transferred to a different department, and today you would tell Mina about it.

The drive was quiet, the air filled with unspoken tension. You stole a glance at Mina, who was looking out the window, a small smile playing on her lips. It made your heart ache, knowing this was the last time you’d be doing this.

When you arrived at the café where Hyunjin was waiting, you parked the car and turned to Mina. “Mina, can we talk for a moment before you go in?”

She looked at you, her smile fading slightly. “Sure, what’s up?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “I’ve asked to be transferred to a different department.”

Mina’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? Why?”

You forced a smile, trying to keep your voice even. “I think it’s time for a change. I’ve been with you and the group for a long time, and I feel like it’s time to explore new opportunities within the company.”

“But… I need you,” Mina said softly, her eyes searching yours. “You’ve always been there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your heart clenched at her words, but you pushed forward. “You’ll be fine, Mina. You’re strong and talented, and you have a great team to support you. It’s not like I’ll be gone completely; I’ll just be in a different department.”

She looked down, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag. “I guess… I just didn’t expect this. It feels sudden.”

“I know,” you said gently. “But I’ve been thinking about it for a while. It’s not an easy decision, but I believe it’s the right one for both of us.”

Mina took a deep breath and nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “If this is what you want, then I won’t stop you. But I’ll miss you. A lot.”

You smiled, trying to hide your pain. “I’ll miss you too, Mina. More than you know. But this isn’t goodbye forever. We’ll still see each other around.”

She reached out and took your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself. And if you ever need anything, you’ll let me know?”

“I promise,” you said, squeezing her hand back. “You take care of yourself too. And keep being the amazing person you are.”

Mina nodded, her grip on your hand lingering for a moment before she let go. “I should go. Hyunjin’s waiting.”

You nodded, watching as she got out of the car and walked towards the café. As she greeted Hyunjin with a warm smile and a hug, you felt the familiar pang of jealousy and heartache. But you knew this was the right decision, for both of you.

******

The next few weeks had been the worst. No matter what you did, you always thought about Mina, missing her laugh and her silly conversations. You knew it was for the best to avoid her because you needed to get over your feelings for her. So you drowned yourself in work, starting a new project on the production team for a new music video. All you did was eat, work, and sleep, not going out or even meeting with any of your friends.

One night, just as you were about to sleep, the doorbell rang. To your surprise, it was Jihyo. She was one of the other members you were close to.

“Hey, what is this I’m hearing? Are you no longer Mina’s manager?” she questioned.

“Yeah, it’s been a few weeks since I was transferred. Did she not tell you?” you replied coldly, not wanting to continue the conversation.

“She did, but the reason you gave her makes absolutely no sense. I know you, and you would never leave Mina, no matter how bored you got with the work. Otherwise, you would have never been her manager. So tell me, what is the real reason you left?” Jihyo asked her tone firm yet concerned.

You sighed, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. “Jihyo, it’s complicated. I... I have feelings for Mina. And it was getting too hard to be around her, especially when she’s spending so much time with Hyunjin.”

Jihyo’s eyes softened with understanding. “Oh, I see. But from what I can see I don’t think they are dating. He’s been supportive during her comeback, but I don’t think there’s anything more than that.”

You shook your head, the pain still fresh. “It doesn’t matter. I needed to distance myself. It was too painful watching them together, even if they were just friends. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine.”

Jihyo looked at you thoughtfully. “I get it. But you know, Mina misses you. She’s been asking about you a lot. She doesn’t understand why you left so suddenly.”

“She’ll be fine, Jihyo. She has you and the rest of the group to support her,” you said, trying to convince yourself as much as her.

Jihyo sighed. “You’re right, but it’s not the same. You were always there for her, more than just a manager. She needs you, even if she doesn’t realize it.”

“I appreciate you coming here, Jihyo, but I’ve made my decision. I can’t go back. It’s too much,” you said, your voice filled with resignation.

Jihyo nodded slowly, seeing the determination in your eyes. “Alright. But if you ever change your mind, know that we’re here for you. And if you need to talk, about anything, I’m here.”

“Thanks, Jihyo. It means a lot,” you replied, feeling a small sense of relief from her understanding.

After Jihyo left, you thought a lot about what she said and how much you missed all the other girls. Realizing how your decision had affected not just Mina but also the rest of the members with whom you were close, you began to reconsider. Though you were busy with work, the occasional messages from them reminded you of the bond you shared.

A few months passed since your conversation with Jihyo. After the shooting of the music video and the comeback schedule finished, you were promoted to the head manager of Twice. It wasn't something you were particularly excited about, but the significant pay rise made it an offer you couldn't refuse. Still, you knew it was going to be challenging.

Not long after your promotion, you found out that Mina was dating Hyunjin. The news hit you hard, but you chose to ignore it and focused on your work. It was painful, but you buried yourself in your new responsibilities, determined to make the best of the situation.

Despite your busy schedule, you found solace in spending time with Jihyo. Whenever the two of you had free time, you would hang out and talk about various things, with golf being a frequent topic of conversation. Jihyo had insisted you try it, and to your surprise, you found it quite enjoyable.

One afternoon, after a particularly long day, Jihyo invited you to the driving range. "Come on, you need a break. Let’s hit some balls and unwind," she said, her tone light and encouraging.

You smiled, grateful for her persistence. "Alright, Jihyo. Lead the way."

As you both practiced your swings, the conversation flowed easily. Jihyo’s laughter and positive energy were infectious, helping you forget your troubles, even if just for a little while.

"So, how are you holding up with all the new responsibilities?" Jihyo asked, adjusting her stance.

"It's been a lot, but I'm managing," you replied, taking a swing. "I just try to stay focused on the work and not think too much about... other things."

Jihyo nodded, understanding. "I know it’s tough, but you’re doing great. We all appreciate everything you do for us."

Her words brought warmth to your heart. "Thanks, Jihyo. That means a lot."

As the sun began to set, you both sat down on a bench, enjoying the peaceful evening. "You know," Jihyo said thoughtfully, "I'm really glad we’ve been spending more time together. It’s nice having someone to talk to about things outside of work."

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it’s been good for me too. I’ve needed the distraction."

Jihyo smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Well, anytime you need to vent or just hang out, I’m here. We’re all in this together, right?"

"Right," you agreed, feeling a sense of camaraderie and support that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

*******

Walking through the halls after taking a few printouts, you were suddenly pulled into a room. "Oh my god! What the fuck?" you screamed out of surprise.

It was even more shocking because it was Mina, who you hadn’t spoken to about anything other than work since you came back as the head manager. “Oh Mina, what happened? Is anything wrong?” you asked, trying to be professional despite your racing heart.

Mina’s eyes flashed with a mixture of emotions. “What’s wrong? You tell me! Ever since you came back, you’ve been avoiding me. You spend all your time with Jihyo now. What’s going on?”

You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Mina, it’s not like that. I’m just trying to do my job and—”

“Do your job? You barely even look at me anymore! We used to be so close, and now it’s like I don’t even exist to you unless it’s about work,” she interrupted, her voice rising.

“Mina, please understand. I needed some distance. It’s not personal,” you explained, your voice gentle but firm.

“Not personal? It feels pretty personal to me!” she shot back, her frustration clear. “I see you laughing and talking with Jihyo all the time. Why can’t you be like that with me?”

You sighed, struggling to find the right words. “Mina, it’s complicated. You have Hyunjin now, and I—”

Mina cut you off, her eyes narrowing. “What does Hyunjin have to do with this? This is about us. Our friendship.”

Before you could respond, she stepped closer, her eyes searching yours. “I miss you. I miss us,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

Your heart ached at her words, but you knew you had to stay strong. “Mina, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you too. But things are different now.”

Her eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and determination. “Why can’t we go back to the way things were?”

As you tried to explain, she suddenly leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a brief, impulsive kiss. Shocked, you gently pushed her away, your heart pounding. “Mina, you can’t do this. You’re with Hyunjin.”

Mina stepped back, her face a mask of confusion and hurt. “I—I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. “It’s okay, but we can’t do this. You need to figure out what you want.”

Mina nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “I just… I don’t understand why this is happening. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not losing me, Mina. I’m still here, just in a different way,” you said softly. “But you need to be honest with yourself and with Hyunjin.”

She wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself. “You’re right. I’m sorry for putting you in this position.”

She left you alone in the room, and you collapsed to the ground. Kissing Mina was something you had always dreamed about, but somehow this wasn’t how you wanted it to be. It was overwhelming because you wanted nothing more than to give in to your desire, kiss her, and enjoy every single second of it. You wanted to hold her close and never let her go, but you knew this was something impulsive. Mina was confused, and at the end of the day, she would go back to her boyfriend.

Sitting there on the cold floor, you buried your face in your hands, trying to calm your racing heart. The weight of the situation bore down on you, and the reality of your feelings hit you harder than ever before.

After a few moments, you managed to pull yourself together and stood up, taking a deep breath. You knew you had to stay focused and professional, even if it felt like your heart was breaking.

As you walked back to your office, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The memory of her lips on yours was vivid, but you pushed it aside, knowing that dwelling on it would only make things worse. You had a job to do, and you needed to be strong.

Over the next few days, she kept her distance from you. You coordinated schedules, managed logistics, and ensured everything ran smoothly for Twice’s upcoming projects. The busyness helped to distract you, but it couldn't erase the ache in your chest.

During one of your breaks, you found yourself sitting with Jihyo in the practice room. She noticed the tired look in your eyes and gave you a concerned glance. “You okay? You seem a bit off lately.”

You forced a smile, not wanting to burden her with your troubles. “Just a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Jihyo raised an eyebrow. “Does this have anything to do with Mina?”

Her perceptiveness caught you off guard, and you sighed, unable to hide the truth from her. “Yeah, we had a bit of a... moment the other day. It’s complicated.”

Jihyo frowned, leaning closer. “What happened?”

You hesitated but then decided to share. “She kissed me. It was impulsive, and I know she’s confused. I had to push her away because she was with Hyunjin. But it’s been eating me up inside.”

Jihyo’s expression softened with understanding. “That’s tough. But you did the right thing. She needs to figure out her feelings, and you can’t let yourself get caught up in that mess.”

“I know,” you said, your voice heavy with resignation. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

Jihyo reached out and squeezed your hand. “Hang in there. Focus on the positive things, like our golf sessions. You’ve been improving a lot, you know.”

You chuckled and she hugged you, appreciating her attempt to lighten the mood. “Thanks, Jihyo. It means a lot to me to know that I have

Jihyo smiled warmly. “And remember, you’re not alone. We’re all here for you. Don’t be afraid to lean on us when you need to.”

You didn’t let go of Jihyo for a few minutes because it felt calming, but that wasn’t the best idea. Mina walked into the room and saw it, her face contorting with fury. Not caring about anything else, Mina stormed towards you, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the door. Her grip was tight, her nails digging into your skin.

“Mina, stop! Where are you taking him?” Jihyo screamed, panic in her voice.

“Jihyo, stay out of this!” Mina screamed back, her voice echoing through the room. It was rare to hear Mina that loud, and Jihyo, shocked, decided to let you both figure it out yourselves.

Mina dragged you into an empty room down the hall, slamming the door shut behind her. She let go of your hand, and you rubbed the red marks left by her nails. "Mina, what the hell? What's going on?" you demanded, trying to keep your anger in check.

"What's going on?" Mina shot back, her eyes blazing. "You tell me! I walk in, and I see you all cozy with Jihyo. What am I supposed to think?"

"Mina, Jihyo was just trying to comfort me," you said, trying to keep your voice calm. "We're friends. That's all."

"Friends? You think I don't see what's going on?" she yelled, her voice breaking. "You’ve been avoiding me, spending all your time with Jihyo. Do you know how that makes me feel?"

"How it makes you feel?" you echoed incredulously. "Mina, you're the one who kissed me and then went back to Hyunjin like nothing happened! How do you think I feel?"

She flinched at your words, tears welling up in her eyes. "I... I don't know. I was confused. I still am. But seeing you with her... it hurts."

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Mina, I’ve been trying to deal with my feelings. It’s hard seeing you with Hyunjin, knowing I can't be with you the way I want to be. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you."

She stepped closer, her voice trembling. "I miss you. I miss us. I don't know what to do with these feelings, but I can’t stand seeing you with someone else."

You felt a pang of guilt and longing, but you knew you had to stay strong. "Mina, you need to figure out what you want. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, to Hyunjin, or me. It's not fair to any of us."

She looked down, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

You reached out, gently lifting her chin so she could meet your gaze. "It’s okay to be confused, Mina. But you need to be honest with yourself and with Hyunjin. Only then can we figure out what comes next."

She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I will. I promise."

It was an improvement because there was some hope for you and Mina, as she was feeling something similar to what you were! But it was still confusing, and you needed time to think, especially after all that had just happened. You called in sick and left the set immediately, deciding to grab a drink to cool down a little.

You found a quiet bar a few blocks away and took a seat in a dimly lit corner. The bartender approached, and you ordered a drink, hoping it would help settle your racing thoughts. As you took your first sip, the events of the past few weeks replayed in your mind. The kiss, Mina’s outburst, the tension, and the hope of something more—it was all too much to process.

The bar was relatively empty, the low hum of conversations and soft music providing a comforting backdrop. You nursed your drink, trying to make sense of your feelings. Mina's confession had given you hope, but her confusion and the reality of her relationship with Hyunjin kept you grounded.

After a couple of drinks, you went home and eventually crashed.

It was the weekend, and you had no plans whatsoever. Planning to drown yourself in alcohol and play games the entire day, you settled into a routine of indulgence and distraction. Eventually, you fell asleep again in front of the TV, watching some stupid videos. You were woken up by a sudden knock on the door. Groggily walking to the door, disheveled, you opened it to find none other than the one woman in this entire world you were trying to avoid.

“Mina.”

She stood there, looking almost as disheveled as you felt, her eyes wide and filled with a mixture of determination and hesitation. "Hey," she said softly, biting her lower lip.

"Hey," you replied, unable to hide your surprise and confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to see you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Can I come in?"

You hesitated for a moment, but then stepped aside, letting her enter. The room was a mess, a testament to your recent attempts at distraction, and Mina took it all in with a concerned glance.

"I didn’t know where else to go," she admitted, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. "I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about. About us."

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep and the fog of alcohol. "Mina, I don’t know if this is the best time..."

"I know," she interrupted, her eyes pleading. "But I can't keep avoiding this. Avoiding you. We need to talk."

You sighed, gesturing for her to sit down. "Okay, let’s talk."

Just as you were about to turn around to get her some water, she grabbed you and pulled you into a kiss and yet again you pushed her away.

“MINA!” You screamed.

"I ended things with Hyunjin," she began, her voice steady but her eyes filled with emotion. "It wasn’t fair to him, and it wasn’t fair to you. I needed to be honest with myself and with you."

Your heart raced at her words, a mix of hope and fear swirling inside you. "Mina, that’s a big step. But where does that leave us?"

"I don’t know," she admitted, her voice trembling. "All I know is that I miss you. I miss us. And I can’t stand the thought of losing you."

You looked into her eyes, seeing the sincerity and vulnerability there. "I miss you too, Mina. But this is complicated. We can’t just pretend everything’s okay."

“Fuck complicated! I need you right now. Those kisses are so intoxicating, it's like a drug, and I can’t live without it,” Mina said, already frustrated. You could see she was trying to hold back as much as you were.

You could no longer hold back either and finally gave in, pulling Mina into you and kissing her. The kiss was so passionate, tongues dancing. Her hands freely explored your body while yours did the same, tracing every curve and line, memorizing the feeling of her against you.

"Mina," you murmured against her lips, the word a mix of desire and need.

She responded by pressing closer, deepening the kiss, her fingers tangling in your hair. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, lost in the intensity of the moment. You could feel her heartbeat, rapid and strong, matching your own.

As your hands roamed, exploring every inch of each other, you felt a surge of emotions. Desire, yes, but also love and longing, things you had tried to suppress for so long. You broke the kiss, both of you panting, eyes locked.

"Mina, are you sure?" you asked, needing to know she wanted this as much as you did, despite the complications.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice breathless but certain. "I've never been more sure of anything."

You pulled her back into another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate, savoring each second. The tension between you, built up over months, finally found release in the shared intimacy. It was like nothing else mattered but the two of you, here and now.

You carried her to the couch, your movements urgent but careful, laying her down gently. She looked up at you, her eyes dark with desire and trust. "I've wanted this for so long," she confessed, her voice soft.

"Me too," you admitted, leaning down to kiss her again, your hands exploring the soft skin beneath her shirt, skin as smooth as silk. She fit so perfectly in your hand.

Your hands sneak underneath her bra, playing with her boobs, her nipples hard as a rock causing her to moan. The bra was a disturbance so you unclasp it and take it off Mina.

“Mina you are so fucking perfect. You don’t know just how happy I am right now,” you say. Not able to contain your excitement, you bite Mina’s neck you knew it would leave a mark but you didn’t care because right now she belonged to you and no one else.

“Ngh! Y/N slow down, it’s going to leave a mark,” Mina says as she tries to push you away.

Pulling away from Mina you look into her eyes and say “That’s what I want. I want everyone to know that you belong to me now.”

Mina’s face turned red, “hey! Don’t say that,” Mina said as she buried her face in her hands.

“Alright, I will do it somewhere no one can see then,” you say before you begin nibbling just above Mina’s right breast. Mina’s breasts must have been a sensitive spot for her because as you nibbled on her breast, you could hear her moan and her grip on your head tighten.

To ensure that Mina’s other breast is equally attended, use your hand to play with the nipple. After giving her boobs the appreciation they deserved, you began to place kisses all over her body, memorizing every inch of her perfect body. She had a few moles on her body and you placed kisses on them multiple times before moving on. Mina’s moans echoed through the room as you worshipped her body. Once you reached her pants you looked up at Mina, asking for permission and she nodded, but before you took off her pants you said, “If we are going to do this then I would rather have my first time with you on a proper bed.”

Grabbing Mina’s hand you pull her with you to the room, once you are inside, you kneel in front of her. Pulling her pants down along with her panties, placing kisses on her thighs near her but not touching it.

The pants now discarded, Mina stood in your room naked, a scene that you never thought would become reality. Taking one of Mina’s legs you place it on your shoulder, her wet pussy on full display for you.

“D-don’t stare,” Mina says, shy from how vulnerable she is.

“Artwork such as this needs to be admired, baby,” you say, not noticing the endearment you had just used. Not wanting to keep her waiting, you dive into her pussy, licking it. Her pussy was delicious, something that you would never get tired of eating.

Mina grabbed your hair, trying to keep her balance and not fall. Her moans get louder every second. The pleasure slowly took over her brain, her pussy throbbed around your fingers every time you flicked her clit.

“CUMMINGG!” Mina screamed before squirting all over your face. Her balance was completely lost, she was leaning completely on your body and was able to stand with some help from the bed frame.

But that balance soon gave in and she ended up falling onto the bed, recovering from her orgasm, still panting and shaking. You joined her on the bed, lying down next to her, waiting for her to come back to reality.

“Fuck, This is the first time, I came that hard,” Mina says, after coming down from the high.

“My turn now,” Mina says before getting up to undo your pants and get rid of them. She slowly pulls down your underwear and your dick pops out and hits Mina in the face.

“Someone’s eager,” Mina says, grabbing your cock she starts to stroke it, slowly using her spit as the lube. After stroking it for a few seconds, she took your cock in her mouth. It was warm and just as perfect as you imagined it would be.

Mina began bobbing her head, trying her best to take more of your cock, she was struggling to take your entire length but you didn’t mind because the way she looked at you made you go feral, her look was that of someone wanting praise.

“Fuck! Mina, I want to fuck your mouth so badly,” you said, doing your best to hold back and not scare her away.

Mina pulls your cock out of her mouth, panting and coughing from how much she was pushing herself. “Do it the, fuck my face please, I want to make you cum the same way that you did to me,” Mina said, looking up at you with those captivating eyes, begging to be used for your pleasure and who were you to say no.

She slowly puts your cock back into her mouth and begins bobbing and pushing herself as deep as she could. Grabbing the back of her head, you push her head further into your body until her nose touches your pelvis bone, Mina gagged a little but she didn’t resist.

You pulled it out a little before you started pounding her face, “Fuck, I’m going to cum!” you groaned before pushing Mina’s head down your dick and releasing all your cum down her throat.

After you stopped cumming, Mina swallowed up all your cum, without any complaints at all.

You watched as Mina walked to the washroom, to clean up a little, her as swaying from one side to the other. With every step her ass cheeks bouncing. This turned you on a lot more than you thought it would.

As soon as Mina came back you pushed her onto the bed and got on top of her, pinning both her hands above her head.

“How are you so fucking gorgeous? It's driving me crazy,” You say to Mina, looking deep into her eyes. They soften at your compliment, it wasn’t just out of lust but out of pure admiration for her and she knew it.

“I could ask you the same thing, how is it possible that you don’t have women dying for you because I would do anything to be with you,” Mina says.

Closing the distance, her breath touching your skin, “Then prove it to me!”

Mina closes the distance between you, lips touching and moving in harmony. “Enough, please fuck me, I have wanted this for so long, I can’t wait anymore,” Mina says, you can hear how desperate she is.

“Nor can I baby,” you say before positioning your cock at Mina’s entrance, slapping and teasing it. Her wet pussy juice sticking to your cock.

“Stop teasing and put it in,” Mina whined and you obliged, slowly pushing your tip into her, god was she tight, she was gripping onto your tip so hard. You continue to push into her slowly but stop all when you hear Mina scream.

You start to pull out a little because you don’t want to hurt Mina, “No!! Keep going please, just slowly,” Mina says as she grips your arms.

“Baby, you need to relax, you are too tense and that's why it’s hurting you,” You say to Mina before leaning in to kiss her.

Mina’s focused on the kiss, tongue in your mouth, taking this opportunity, you push into her again slowly

“HGNH” Mina groaned again but she relaxed, focusing more on the kiss.

Once you were in her completely you stayed still allowing her to adjust and not wanting to hurt her. After a minute or so Mina pulls away from the kiss and says,” You can move now,”

You begin to move slowly in the beginning. You tried different angles to find Mina’s most sensitive spot. Moans filled the room, louder every time you hit a certain spot. Pleasure building up Mina wanted more,

“Harder, you can go harder,” Mina managed to say in between her moans. Obliging with her commands your thrusts get harder. It was truly a sight to take in, Mina’s tits bouncing out of control, her moans loud enough to be heard by your neighbors, and the most erotic expression on her face.

“Ahh fuck! Keep going! Oh my fucking god,” All sorts of obscenities were coming out of Mina’s mouth, her elegant image was being destroyed and you were the reason for it.

You couldn’t hold on much longer but you didn’t want it to end. Without pulling out, you picked Mina up, holding her in your arms as you continued to pound her. Your dick now hitting much deeper.

“Oh fuck! Keep going, I need you so badly!” Mina moaned as her hands gripped onto your back, nails digging in, and her legs on your hands as you thrust into her.

After thrusting into Mina’s tight pussy for many minutes, “CUMMING!” Mina screams as she squirts all over your cock. Your dick slips out of her and is now coated with her liquid.

Soon recovering from her orgasm still in your arms she whispers something that you didn’t expect to hear. “Let me ride you,”

It was a shocking suggestion but one that you welcomed. You set her down on the bed and join her on the bed, She is now sitting on you, her legs on each side of your body. Her pussy lips are right above your cock.

Not wasting much time, Mina pushes your cock into her, it wasn’t that hard as now she was a little more relaxed once it was fully in she began bouncing on it like no tomorrow. She was amazing, it was like nothing you had ever felt, the way she moved was immaculate.

Mina leans down to kiss you as she continues to ride your cock. Given how much her pussy was throbbing it wouldn’t be much longer before she was cumming all over your cock again.

You grab a hold of her ass and push her down harsher, it takes her by surprise causing her to yelp. You were thrusting into Mina’s G-spot causing her to scream in pleasure. The room was filled with nothing but the sound of skin slapping and the profanities that came out of Mina’s mouth.

“Fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” Mina warned this time before she orgasmed all over your cock again but this time you didn’t stop.

“F-fuck.. I can’t- ‘s too much,” Mina cried, tears staining her pretty cheeks as you continued to thrust into her even though she just came

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Mina cried, a clear stream of liquid gushing out from her pussy

“There we go, that’s a good fucking girl,” you praised, thrusts getting sloppier as you approached your second orgasm. “God baby, you’re gripping me so hard. Gonna cum in that tight little pussy okay?”

Mina’s head was so empty, nodding absentmindedly as her eyes threatened to close shut. “Fuck” you groaned loudly, bottoming out inside her and allowing your seed to fill you up. Some of it dripped down your thigh as he pulled out.

Mina was panting hard in an attempt to catch your breath, the body still spasming as you let her fall limp against your chest. “you’re a meanie,” Mina pouted tiredly, feeling your pussy flutter at the newfound emptiness.

“I know I am baby, but you did so good, took it so well” you chuckled, gripping the flesh of her ass as you kissed softly down the delicate skin on her neck.

After both of you came down from the high of your orgasms, you finally realized what just happened and how big this was.

“Mina, this means that we are dating, right? Because I don’t think I could ever face you as anything but your boyfriend after what we just did,” you said, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of your words.

Mina looked up at you, her eyes softening as she took in the seriousness of your expression. She reached out, cupping your face in her hands, and smiled. "Yes, it does. I want us to be together. I’ve wanted it for a long time."

Relief and joy flooded through you, and you leaned down to kiss her again, this time with a sense of certainty and commitment. The kiss was tender, full of promises for the future.

The next morning, you woke up with Mina in your arms, her presence a comforting warmth against your side. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Mina stirred, blinking sleepily as she looked up at you.

"Good morning," she whispered, her voice still husky with sleep.

"Good morning," you replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "How are you feeling?"

"Happy," she said simply, snuggling closer. "And a little scared, but mostly happy."

You nodded, understanding the mix of emotions. "Me too. But we’ll figure it out, together."

She smiled, her fingers tracing patterns on your chest. "Yes, together."

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of adjustments. You had to navigate your new relationship while maintaining professionalism at work. There were moments of awkwardness, but also moments of pure bliss as you both found your rhythm.

You and Mina kept your relationship private, sharing it only with those closest to you. Jihyo was ecstatic when she found out, giving you both a knowing smile and a heartfelt hug. The other members were equally supportive, happy to see Mina truly happy.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you and Mina found yourselves on the company rooftop, a favorite spot for a quiet escape. The city lights twinkled below, and the cool breeze provided a perfect backdrop for a heart-to-heart conversation.

"Can you believe how far we’ve come?" Mina mused, leaning against you.

"It feels surreal," you admitted, wrapping an arm around her. "But I wouldn’t change a thing."

She turned to face you, her expression serious. "I know this won’t always be easy. There will be challenges, both personal and professional. But I want to face them with you."

"We will," you assured her, kissing her forehead. "One step at a time."

As the night grew darker, you both sat there, comfortable in the silence and each other's company, knowing that no matter what came next, you were in it together.

#mina smut #twice x reader #twice smut #kpop smut #twice jihyo #twice #twice mina

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xxsabitoxx · 8 months

Text

Pale Blue [Part Two]

Geto Suguru x AFAB Pregnant Reader

READ PART ONE 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 she is, months overdue, but here she is. I know nobody will want to read my author note considering the behemoth before you but I just want to thank you for sticking with me for so long. I am, of course, already working on part 3 and will continue to work on it as I continue my hiatus. The only thing I ask of you is to take your time and enjoy! I know I am going to be returning to inactivity very soon but your comments, reblogs, and asks are always welcomed and always appreciated. I love y'all endlessly and I hope you enjoy it.

WORD COUNT: 36.1K | Playlist

September 2007

Two weeks had passed since you discovered you were pregnant with Suguru’s baby. Now you were sitting in a dull waiting room, blinded by fluorescent lights as you waited for your name to be called. Shoko had taken the news well, not that you expected her to be shocked in any capacity. She had said something along the lines of “I knew it.” when you had told her the next day, Satoru, who was by your side, was slightly disappointed she didn’t have a bigger reaction. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go back with you?” Shoko had leaned closer to you, whispering so other people in the waiting room wouldn't hear. “I’m sure, Shoko. I’ll be okay.”

It had taken weeks to see a doctor, mostly because she had been booked out. Your morning sickness hadn’t gotten much better, so you assumed you were still lingering somewhere in your first trimester. September was slowly coming to an end, with October looming on the horizon the world had slowly begun its transition to reflect that. This transition brought you the weather you really needed, allowing you to wear comfortable baggy clothing. “The perfect time to hide a pregnancy.” you had mused, much to Satoru’s disdain. Your leg bounced at the memory, your hand coming to rest on your stomach. It was a habit that you had picked up shortly after the test came back positive. You felt the urge to protect them, even though they were as safe as they could be, snuggling in your womb. There was truly no place safer for them right now.

Things hadn’t gotten all that easier either, within the past two weeks, you had to live through the one month anniversary of Suguru’s deflection. It had been harder to swallow than you thought it would be, the sinking reality that four weeks had passed since you had seen his face was unbearable. Going from seeing him nearly every second of everyday to nothing at all felt as cold as the air at night. You had to wonder what he was doing at that very moment, maybe he was up making those girls breakfast. The idea of him being a father already, caring for those two little girls, it made your heart flutter and sink at the very same time. You wanted to be there, you wanted to help him, you wanted to tell him you were pregnant, that he got what he wanted.

“Y/N Y/L/N?”

You blinked back into reality as Shoko hit your arm, a nurse dressed in light pink scrubs was looking around the waiting room after calling the next name on her list. You nearly jumped out of your chair, motioning for Shoko to stay where she was as you got up and made your way over. You ignored the small grumble from her, it seems she had still intended on following you back for the appointment despite your reassurance of being okay to go alone. “Good morning dear, follow me.” You mustered the best smile you could in response,uttering a soft “morning” as she grabbed the door handle to enter the portion of the office that held the exam rooms. You went through the routine process, having your weight and height checked before being brought into a private room. It was different from other doctors offices, there was an ultrasound set up and various posters about sexual health and pregnancy scattered about. It made you feel a bit dizzy.

“So we had you take a urine sample and get your blood while you waited, I have the results of the urine test but not the blood yet. That should be ready for you once the doctor is ready to come in and perform the exam… in the meantime let’s go over the basics” She was typing on her laptop as she spoke, looking at you briefly as you nodded. Your hands were clasped together in front of you, feeling cold and clammy at the same time. You shifted due to your nerves, the paper below you crumpling as you fidgeted. The nurse went through the basics, making sure your insurance information and home address was correct. “You’re in college?” she questioned absentmindedly, as if trying to make small talk with you. “No, not yet. I graduate high school in the spring.” You felt your face grow warm as she let out a soft “oh.”

Luckily for you, she didn’t press further and hid her judgment within seconds. You kept your eyes trained on the floor as she continued her interrogation, getting your basic health and allergies on file before shutting her laptop and gracing you with a fake smile. “Alright then, that’s it for my portion of the exam. The doctor will be in shortly to discuss your results.” You nodded, thanking her quietly as she left the room. Silence rang in your ears as you were left alone with nothing but your thoughts. hands still clasped tightly together as you dragged your eyes away from the floor and observed the examination room. There were shelves on the wall with various pamphlets, all of them geared towards women's reproductive health and pregnancy.

You used to laugh at those things when you were younger, wondering if anyone would even bother taking them. Now, you were tempted to get up and go grab a few for yourself. But as you moved, the paper crinkled so loudly that it made you still again. It reminded you of just how silent the godforsaken room was, it reminded you of how alone you were. Now, as you sat there, you wished you had just let Shoko get up and follow you back here. You needed someone to talk you off the ledge, it was likely Shoko would have been allowed back here with you, considering most women brought their partners with them. It would have brought you two a good laugh for the nurses to assume you were a lesbian couple.

You could hear Shoko now, coming up with some asinine plot to what the nurses probably thought was going on with the two of you. Probably contemplating who your “real” partner was considering Shoko couldn’t get you pregnant. Though, your partner still wasn’t aware of his child growing within your body. Suguru should be here in this room with you, sitting in the empty chair across from the exam table you sat on. He should have been filling this empty space with jokes about how nervous you looked, making you laugh and forget why you were scared in the first place. But he wasn’t. You were doing this alone. That was the part that hurt the most, because this whole “doing it alone” thing was your choice.

At some point during your storm of emotions, you had begun to blame yourself for Suguru not being with you. Your brain took the liberty of twisting the events in your mind so harshly that they had deteriorated all together, you couldn’t recall the truth anymore. Somewhere along the way, you had convinced yourself this was your choice, that Suguru wasn’t here because you were keeping him away. A quick couple of knocks on the door signaled the doctor’s arrival, effectively pulling you out of your forlorn daze. “Good morning, how are you?” A short, plump woman entered the room with a cheery smile, one you couldn’t help but return. “I’m alright.” Which was pure bullshit, but she didn't really need to know your whole life story.

“Ah, that’s better than most answers.” she chuckled to herself, setting her clipboard down on the counter and reaching for soap so she could wash her hands. You found yourself flinching, suddenly feeling bad for lying to a woman who hadn’t known of your existence until walking through that door only seconds prior. “I have the results of your blood test…” she started, scrubbing her hands until they turned visibly soapy. “If it were bad news, I’d be telling you a lot more formally than this. However, your results were looking very good! You’re definitely pregnant.” You let out a shaky sigh of relief, hand resting over your stomach again as you smiled. “That’s wonderful news.” because, despite everything, it really was. You could now look at this as a shimmering ray of hope peaking out among your storm clouds.

The doctor smiled, turning off the water and reaching for paper towels. “Your results indicate you are roughly around the eleven week mark. You’re nearly done with your first trimester.” That was a bit jarring to you, and by the look on the woman’s face, she could tell. “It’s not unusual for some women to go a while without realizing, some women don’t even know they are pregnant until they go into labor and assume it’s kidney stones. Have you missed your cycle?” She was pulling blue gloves over her hands as she spoke. So much information being thrown at you that you had to blink for a moment before uttering “I’ve been going through some things in my personal life, I suppose my last cycle was sometime in June then… I assumed it was stress.”

“That would line up with the HCG levels, you likely got pregnant early to mid-july. But don’t worry, I should be able to pinpoint it a little more accurately with an ultrasound.” Your heart skipped a beat, you hadn’t expected to see your baby this soon. You watched her move to turn on the machine, brows creasing as you began trying to shift through your hazy memories. You figured it was likely useless to try and pinpoint when Suguru could have gotten you pregnant, because the damage was already done at this point. You realized you hadn’t responded, clearing your throat a bit as she walked over to the machine and began turning it on. “So, I’ll be entering my second trimester soon? I-is it alright that I didn’t know for this long? I-is the baby okay?” You felt your lip tremble as you spoke, suddenly more anxious than before.

“Oh honey…” the doctor stopped what she was doing and reached out a hand to place it over your own. “You are perfectly fine, baby should be doing good too. We’ll get to hear their heartbeat in just a few minutes and I’ll be able to give you a rough timeline for the rest of your pregnancy. I can assure you, it’s okay that you didn’t know until recently. We’ll get you on some prenatals and other vitamins to keep you and baby in tip-top shape.” Her presence was grandmotherly, it set your racing mind at ease. Mentally you would have to remember to thank Shoko for finding this woman for you. “Thank you.” you breathed out as she placed some of her supplies on the metal tray beside the exam bed. You had so much you could say at that moment but thanking her was the only thing that would come out. “No problem, honey.”

A few beats of silence passed before she spoke again. “Alright, I’m going to have you lay back and lift your shirt for me, pull down your sweatpants a bit as well.” You took a shaky breath, nodding as she moved around the table to flick off the main lights. The exam room was left in a golden glow from the small lamp on the desk in the corner, paired with the fluorescent-ish glow from the ultrasound screen. You did as she instructed, lifting your shirt and pushing down the waistband of your sweats so your stomach was no longer obstructed. “The gel is going to be a little cold, but it warms up quick.” Your throat felt dry, so you nodded, hands clasping tightly together to rest on your chest as you watched her squirt some of the clear liquid on your abdomen. “I’m also going to have to press down a bit, which may cause some discomfort at first but I assure you that the baby is safe while I do this.” You nodded again, mouth feeling too dry to respond verbally at that moment. “Alright, let’s see your baby.”

You gave a shaky smile, eyes immediately focusing on the black screen as she pressed the ultrasound’s wand to your stomach. You flinched a bit before getting used to the feeling of the wand pressing so deeply. “Sorry, honey. At this stage the baby is so small that we really need to get in there… if this doesn’t pick them up then I may have to do an internal ultrasound.” She was walking you through each step, which you were abundantly grateful for. After a little bit of searching, she let out a happy sigh as something small and vaguely baby shaped appeared on the screen. “There they are! At this stage they are just starting to kick and stretch, but they are too little for you to feel it yet.” You couldn’t breath, eyes zeroing in on the tiny little thing that was your child. The doctor was smiling, using her other hand to take pictures and measure.

“Ah, what an over achiever, they are nearly two inches in length right now! They are measuring a little ahead.” You couldn’t help but smile, eyes turning a bit glossy. “Just like their daddy, he’d be so proud.” The words felt foreign but at the same time they felt just right, your head would surely implode if you dwelled on it for too long. The doctor only chuckled, clicking some buttons on the keyboard to snap more pictures as she moved the wand around your stomach. You were thankful she didn’t inquire further about the father, though you were sure it was probably against practice to ask such personal things outright. “Well, mama, would you like to hear their heartbeat?” You inhaled sharply, eyeing her suspiciously to make sure she wasn’t joking. “I-I would love to.” your tone was shaky, hands curling at your sides as she smiled. “Alright, one sec.”

After a small stretch of silence, you heard it. Through the speakers, the strong and steady heartbeat of your baby met your ears. You let out a choked sob, the noise surprising you as your hand shot up to cover your mouth, it was probably the best thing you’ve heard over the course of the last month. You didn’t want it to end, you wanted to sit there on that table and look at your baby, hear their heartbeat, for as long as you possibly could. “They are doing wonderful, mama. It’s too soon to tell the gender, but the baby is doing great. You have nothing to worry about.” you nodded, heart aching a bit as she turned the sound off and pulled the wand away.

“I’ll have those pictures printed so you can take them home.” She wiped the gel off of your stomach, tossing it in the trash before moving around the table to turn the lights on again. You sat up, wiping your eyes as you pulled your shirt down and readjusted your sweats. “That would be wonderful, thank you.” you chuckled a bit as she handed you some tissues for your face and nose. “Now that we’ve got all the fun stuff out of the way, I’m going to prescribe you some prenatals and other vitamins like we discussed earlier. If you’ll give me a few minutes, I’ll go get things in order so you’ll leave here feeling a little less overwhelmed.” You smiled, thanking her again as you resituated yourself on the table. She stepped out a moment later, still grinning.

Once again you were “alone”, but this time it didn’t feel all that lonely.

—

“Did you really mean what you said last week?” You set your pen down, looking across your room to see Suguru sitting at your desk. You were both working on different assignments but still wanted to spend time together. “Hmm?” Suguru set his own pen down, turning his body to look at you where you sat on your own bed. “About… ya know… wanting to get me pregnant.” You watched a shy smile pass over Suguru’s face as he sighed. “Yeah… I meant it.” He started softly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. You had to chuckle at the fact that Suguru had stuffed an extra pen through his bun, just in case the other died while writing. “I guess you could say I have baby fever.”

“Baby fever, huh?” you teased, putting your notebook to the side as you did. “Yeah, baby fever. I just… fuck I don’t know it’s been a thought on my mind for a while now. I keep seeing these happy families, their small children giggling and playing and… I started daydreaming about what it would be like to be a father. When I envisioned our baby, fuck my heart just melted.” he sighed, face turning a little red before he continued on. “I started thinking about how cute you’d look pregnant, how cute you’d be as a mom. How sweet it would be to hear their little voice calling you mama.” Your lips parted, completely entranced by the world he was painting you.

“Suguru.” you stated rather bluntly, smiling as his head shot up to look at you. At some point in his rambling, he had begun staring into space, as if envisioning the things he talked about. “Y-yeah?” You laugh softly, crawling off your bed and crossing the small space until you stand before him. “Come here.” You smile, hands gently cupping his cheeks and forcing his head to look up at you. “ I love you so much.” You started softly, thumb gingerly brushing along the plains of his cheekbone. Suguru swallowed, brown eyes observing every inch of your face. “I love you too.” He breathed, subconsciously leaning into your touch. “If you’re serious, if you truly want a baby…”

“I do.”

Your lips parted before you smiled brightly, giggling a bit at his instant reassurance. “... then I am more than willing to try and conceive.” You hadn’t intended for it to come out so seductive, but the way Suguru’s breathing hitched told you it had a dual effect. “Really?” You nodded, thumb still gently caressing his cheeks. “I know we’re young and all, but I think there is no time better than the present to chase your dreams.” You snorted at your own cheesiness, laughing as Suguru’s arms came around your waist to hug you tightly. “Thank you.” his voice was soft, just above a whisper. “You know, I have to ask, Suguru… especially since you seemed to put a ton of thought into this.”

“Yeah? Anything. Ask away.” You reached up and tugged the pen out of his bun, fingers moving to delicately pull his hair out of the bun itself. You always enjoyed it when he had his hair down. “What was the moment that made you realize it was more than just a desire, that it was something you actually wanted. I know you said you saw families and all that but… you’re a man of purpose. Something in particular egged you on and I’m dying to know what.” From the way his cheeks turned red, you knew you had hit the nail on the head. He wasn’t lying about the baby fever, but you knew him too well to know that it wasn’t just an accumulation of events.

One thing in particular had been his “breaking point” of sorts.

“Alright you caught me.” he sighed deeply, eyes glancing away from you before looking up again. “Remember that weekend I went home to visit family?” You nodded, hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders. Suguru’s arms opened, allowing you to climb onto his lap as he spoke. “Well, my cousin had just had her baby a few weeks prior. Since she knew I was coming home to visit for the weekends, she came over with her new baby to introduce us.” You nodded again, humming thoughtfully as you twirled some of his hair around your fingers. “I don’t think I’ve ever held a baby before.” He added, cheeks a rosy pink instead of flaming red.

“And when she put that little baby in my arms I… fuck I just melted.”

He swallowed, finding it endearing that you were so invested in every word he spoke. “I just remember thinking that… there was nothing more special than that bond. The bond between mother and child… between father and child. I found myself imagining what it would be like to hold my own newborn… and I was serious when I said every time I envisioned it, they always looked like you.” He relaxed a bit when you leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek before pulling away again. “That’s a beautiful reason, you know.” You hugged him after saying it, letting your chin rest on his shoulders as his arms encompassed your waist and squeezed.

“I want to be a dad, I’ve known that from the very moment I held that baby. But I… if you aren’t ready… I don’t want to force you to do anything.” The vulnerability in his voice made your heart squeeze, it was very rare that Suguru was openly shy about something. “No time better than the present, ya know.” You whispered it again, feeling his breath stutter as you spoke. “Really?” he breathed out again, as if in disbelief that you were saying yes despite already agreeing once before.

You nod, trying to contain your smile. “It’s not like it’ll happen right away, it takes time. Most couples have to try for a while before they strike gold.”

“I guess that is true, there are a lot of factors that go into this… it’s a miracle that women are even able to conceive in the first place when you truly look at it.” you felt yourself giggling, finding it cute that Suguru had clearly put some research into this whole idea too. He wanted it, so bad, you couldn’t bear the thought of not trying to give it to him. “So… what do you say, shall we start now?” you pulled away from his hug, grinning deviously at him. “Right now?” Suguru looked shocked, eyes wide and lips slightly parted before he was able to collect his thoughts. “Yeah, right now.” studies could wait, of course they could. Suguru knew that just as well as you did.

Suguru answered you with a kiss, lips melting against your own as his hands clung to your waist.

—

“So this… is the baby?” Satoru’s glasses hung low on his nose, blue eyes observing the glossy paper intently. “Yep, that’s the baby.” You were laying on the couch, head resting on Shoko’s lap as she absentmindedly played with your hair. “Are you… sure?” Satoru was having a difficult time comprehending that the white, vaguely human-shaped blob on the glossy sheets of paper was a baby. “Positive, Satoru. They don’t start looking like a real human until around the twenty week mark.” Satoru shot you a glance over one of the photos, a smile tugging on his lips as he spoke “So what you’re saying is you’re carrying an alien for a while.” This time it was Shoko to interject, shooting Satoru a glare as she threw her lighter at him. “Be nice, Satoru.”

You, on the other hand, had begun to laugh. “I’ll take away uncle privileges, Satoru.”

“Hey! Let’s not get too hasty there, Mothership.” Satoru looked mildly offended at the idea of you pulling his uncle privileges before he could even get them. You sat up now, eyes meeting Shoko’s before you burst out laughing. “Did you just call me mothership?” You would be offended if it was anyone other than Satoru using the nickname. “...Maybe.” Satoru had set the photos down on his lap, no longer holding them up to examine like he was looking for a hidden secret. “You’re so mean, Satoru.” Shoko sighed, sad that your warmth was no longer on her lap. “She’s laughing, Shoko!” Satoru tried to defend his honor, it was still a rare sight to see you laughing.

“What is with all the commotion?” The three of you fell silent instantly, heads turning to see Yaga enter the common room. You had yet to inform the principal of your pregnancy, he had absolutely no idea that you were carrying Suguru’s baby. You had intended on telling him after you told Shoko the following morning, but you chickened out and had yet to find the courage. “Nothing major, just hanging out.” Careful as possible, Satoru was sliding the ultrasound pictures behind the arm of the couch so Yaga couldn’t see them. Luckily for the three of you, his eyes were mainly focused on you. “I hadn’t heard your laugh in a while, y/n. I thought you may have lost it.”

“Ah, well, leave it to Satoru to find it for me again.” You smiled, an almost real smile that still felt foreign on your lips. You were certain you would never feel the joy of a real, genuine smile until Suguru was in your arms again. Though, that day may never come. You were still heavily weighing your options, knowing the choice you wanted to pick was the one that would cost you the things you had within your reach. Your love for Suguru would never blind you from the fact that you loved Shoko and Satoru just as dearly… at least you hoped it wouldn’t. “Ah, he’s good for something I suppose.” His tone was teasing, earning snickers from both you and Shoko.

“You wound me, principal!”

Yaga just shook his head, smiling a bit before moving to leave the room. “Remember, you three, I’m always a call away.” You all shared a knowing glance before nodding your heads. With that, Yaga left the common area, leaving the three of you to relax again. Satoru was careful as he pulled the ultrasound pics up again, looking them over one last time before folding them neatly and reaching across to give them to you. “That was close.” he offered with a grin as you took them and set them face down on the coffee table. “It was, but you managed to hide them well, Toru.” You grinned as you settled back again, lying comfortably with your head on Shoko’s lap.

“See, Yaga isn’t wrong, he is good for something.” Shoko laughed as Satoru rolled his eyes, flipping her the finger before reaching for the lighter she had chucked at him. “You seem to forget I can keep this.” He taunted her with her favorite lighter, you weren’t even sure why she threw it in the first place considering Satoru’s infinity was able to block it. It had bounced off of his barrier and landed on the couch cushion beside him. Again, you three were lucky that Yaga hadn’t seen it, he was pretty convinced Shoko had given up on the smoking habit. “Give it back, Satoru, I’m too comfy to have her moving.” You whined as Shoko tried to get off the couch.

“You heard the pregnant lady, give it.” Shoko taunted, knowing she had already won the battle thanks to you. “Fine, fine, here.” he tossed it over, uttering out “nice catch” as Shoko caught it with one hand. “So, back to business.” Shoko smiled as she twirled the lighter around her fingers. “How are we telling Yaga that little miss here is pregnant with the problem child’s baby?” You made a noise of annoyance at Shoko’s words, smiling a bit as she raised her eyebrow at you. “Well, I don’t think it will be easy telling anyone… Besides you, Shoko. You took the news like a champ.” Satoru was still reeling over how calm she had been about the whole thing.

—

“Are you sure you want to tell her right now?” Satoru was buttoning his uniform top, you two would still have to continue on with your lives like it was any other day. “She needs to know, there is no way I could keep this from her.” She basically already knew, but you couldn’t say that to Satoru yet. Just in case Shoko had the opposite of the reaction you were anticipating. The whole concept still felt foreign to you, so did the fact that it felt natural for your hand to rest on your abdomen. You didn’t think you should be adapting to this so quickly, then again what were you supposed to do?

“I know that, I’m not saying we never tell her. But you still seem to be pretty in shock over this.”

“Which is exactly why I need to tell her.” If anything goes wrong in your life, Shoko has always been the person you ran to. It wasn’t until Suguru left that you had started running to Satoru instead. Part of you felt guilty about that, like you were leaving her in the dust. She knew you and Satoru’s pain just as well, it hurt you to know you had started seeking comfort in him rather than her. “If you insist, I’ll back you up all the way.” he grinned as you pouted, feet kicking idly.

You had snuck off and gotten dressed before he even woke up. Now all that was left was to rip off the band-aid and reveal to Shoko that she had been right all along. “I’m glad you aren’t scared of Shoko’s wrath.” you laughed as you pushed off of his bed, shuffling to the door with a grin. “I’m not the one that got you pregnant, her wrath isn’t directed at me.” You felt your cheeks grow warm as you shook your head, pushing his door open and heading into the hall. “You’re too blunt sometimes, Satoru.” You felt mildly embarrassed about how he put it, that and an odd sense of possessiveness.

“Well it’s the truth, Suguru is the one that knocked you up.” He shrugged as he followed you out into the hall, turning to shut the door just as you reached up and smacked his shoulder. “And you’re fucking vulgar! Be kind!” your tone was a mix of teasing and annoyance, one Satoru knew quite well. If he had to work you up to get glimpses of your old self, then so be it. “I am being kind, you’re just being sensitive.” risky thing to say to a woman, nevermind a pregnant woman.

“You are a menace, Gojo Satoru.” You huffed, crossing your arms to glare at him as he replied with a sheepish grin. “Hey, sorry, I can’t help it sometimes. You’re just so easy to tease.” He made a kissy face at you, watching your nose scrunch in amusement before turning to head down the hall. “I’ll have to work on making things harder for you, Satoru.” You sighed as he whistled. “Don’t quite know how Suguru would feel about that.” He was laughing when you turned to swing on him, a smile pulling at your lips as he blocked you. “A menace and a perv… I’ll start sharing Shoko’s bed.”

“Hey! No way! You’re so warm, I like having you in my bed.” Satoru pouted, as if you were a cat looking to find a new home. “Eh, don’t know how Suguru would feel about that.” You mimicked him, smiling widely now as he rolled his eyes. “I guess you’re right.” Ever since you realized, it has become a little easier to say Suguru’s name. You had to wonder why, your emotions were still a stormy mess but… speaking about him didn’t really hurt that bad right now. Maybe you were just riding on a high of emotions, but compared to the low from the night before… you had doubts.

“Shoko!” you knocked on her door, glancing back at Satoru as he shoved his hands in his pockets. He was pretty sure he was masking his anxiety well, but you knew better than anyone that Satoru was mentally shitting his pants at the idea of informing Shoko about your predicament. “One minute!” Her voice rang from the other side of the door, mildly surprised in tone to hear you. She had expected Satoru, just as she had been expecting him every morning to go pull you out of your depression pit dorm room. For you to be at her door too… something was up.

“What’s with the welcome party?” Shoko’s door swung open, eyes traveling over the two of you with a quirked brow. “Got some news for ya…” you started bold, not missing the way Satoru inhaled sharply. “News for me? About?” she had no idea where you could be going with this, but she assumed any direction you took would lead to Suguru somehow. “Well you see… that conversation we had yesterday…” and Shoko knew immediately. “Shoko, I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, okay.”

“That… you’re fucking kidding me! That’s IT?” Satoru looked completely appalled at the woman’s casual response. You were a bit surprised yourself but that didn’t stop you from laughing at Satoru’s over reaction. “Yeah, that’s it. Am I supposed to scream or something?” Shoko was stepping into the hall, turning to shut her dorm room’s door before turning back to face you and Satoru. “So what do we do now?” Satoru couldn’t believe it, from the gut wrenching sobs you had made, he half expected the world to implode when it was time for you to tell another person.

So…when it didn’t… he couldn’t quite get over it. “That’s a great question, honestly I have no idea.” You sighed, feeling a little antsy as you turned to walk down the hall. “Ya know, this isn’t fair.” Satoru pouted, arms crossing as he followed after you with no hesitation. “What isn't fair?” Shoko questioned as she fell into step beside you. “That you got the easy reveal and the easy reaction. She nearly gave me a fucking heart attack last night! I mean really I felt my balls shrivel.”

You nearly tripped over your own two feet at that, laughter so genuine bubbling out of you that it made the previous night feel like a distant memory. “Ew TMI Satoru.” Shoko plugged her nose, sticking her tongue out as the three of you made your way down the stairs and out to the sunny day ahead. “It’s the damn truth.” Satoru mumbled under his breath as you pushed through the double doors, shoving his sunglasses further up his face in an attempt to block out the blinding sun.

“I mean I’ll side with him this time, Shoko. I really did scare the life out of him. I thought he was going to faint.” You had collapsed into his arms, if anyone was about to faint, it would have been you. “That’s only half true.” Satoru mumbled in defeat, throwing himself down on a picnic table bench and watching as you and Shoko clambered into the other side. “It’s not important right now, what’s important is trying to figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do now. I don’t want anyone knowing besides the two of you. Not Yaga, not Utahime, Meimei, Nanami…”

“We get it.” Satoru stuck his tongue out, feeling far cheekier than usual this morning. Maybe it was because he was still partially convinced he had smacked his head and this was all a dream. “So rude this morning, Toru~” there was a hint of a smile on your face though, one that had the tips of his ears burning pink as you turned to look at Shoko. “The first thing we need to do is get you a doctor. If the tests came back positive, it still needs to be confirmed with blood work. Along with that they need to make sure the baby is actually growing.” Shoko pulled out a pack of cigarettes as she spoke.

“Okay, so, doctors is the next step… then what?” Satoru questioned, watching the flame ignite on the end of Shoko’s lighter. “Then I grow the baby till they are ready to be born.” You said in a bored tone. You knew what Satoru was implying but you weren’t ready to cross that bridge yet. Suguru needed to know, you were still hanging onto that fact. You couldn't do this without him. “Oh gee I would have never guessed.” Satoru deadpanned as he snatched Shoko’s pack, ignoring her glare as he also snatched her lighter. “I’m not in the mood to discuss that part yet, Satoru.”

Your tone was final, so much so that Shoko merely nodded, eyes glaring holes into Satoru’s head so he wouldn't dare push the topic. He swallowed his words, putting the cigarette to his lips before mumbling out “fine, I’ll drop it… for now.”

—

The day had come and gone, night had fallen once more and you found yourself lounging in Satoru’s bed. He was showering at the moment so you had it to yourself, the dim light of the little lamp on his desk was just enough for you to admire the ultrasound photos. You had been looking at them on and off all day, still struggling to comprehend that it was your baby. “It’s crazy that you’ll continue to grow into a living, breathing, talking person. You’ll have your own personality, your own thoughts, your own voice…” you hummed softly, hand resting on your abdomen as you spoke to your baby’s pictures. It all felt so damn surreal.

“I wonder what your daddy would think…” You felt your voice crack as you whispered those words out loud. Your heart was still aching from his absence, but with your child growing, it was hard to feel totally alone. Part of him was growing within you, you just needed him to know it. You straightened the moment Satoru’s bathroom door opened, wiping your eyes in an attempt to make it look like you were yawning instead. “Not visiting Shoko tonight?” Satoru smiled, white shirt hanging on his lean frame, a towel resting on his shoulders and collecting the water droplets from his damp hair. “Nah, she said she needed to get some stuff done.”

“She’s such a procrastinator, the deadlines for those med-school applications are like two days from now.” You nodded, you weren’t quite sure how your friend intended on getting the seven applications done in time. “I highly doubt she’ll be truthful to them anyways.” You laughed, she was determined to get in with no prior college experience or any experience in the medical field save for her curse technique. But, if there was anyone who could cheat their way into med-school, it would definitely be Shoko. “She’ll somehow be fine… she always is.” Satoru chuckled as he moved about his room, picking up his towel to dry his white locks.

With his back turned to you, he nearly whispered what he said next. “You’re sad again.” You felt your brows twitch before forcing them into perfectly maintained neutrality. “When have I not been sad, Satoru?” you tried softly, folding the ultrasound pictures neatly together again from their extended accordion strip. “You know what I mean, y/n. You were crying before I came in.” You stopped folding, inhaling shakily before turning to meet his gaze. “I wasn’t crying yet. You actually interrupted me, Satoru.” you weren’t even sure why you had been trying to hide it in the first place. There was no sneaking anything by him. Those six eyes of his were always on alert, always observant, even more so nowadays.

Satoru was still quiet, his towel resting on his shoulders again as he turned to observed you. “I miss him terribly, Satoru. Nothing is going to fix that.” You could tell he was stewing on something, but he was holding himself back. “Say it, whatever it is you're thinking, say it.” This time, he looked mildly surprised, not used to being the one so easily read. “You’re not going to see him.” He stated rather plainly, but you could see his jaw clenching after he uttered the words out loud. You felt your stomach twist in the same way it had with your morning sickness… morning sickness you had become quite acquainted with at this point.

“I didn’t plan on it.” You shot back, lying through your teeth like he wouldn’t be able to pick you apart in an instant. “Yeah, bull shit y/n. I’m not stupid.” You felt anger bubbling over the nausea, not particularly enjoying the way he was talking down to you. “Watch your tone, Satoru.” Dangerously low, full of promise. It was enough to snap him back into reality for a second. “Sorry.” he started “I’ll be more mindful. However, that doesn’t change my previous statement.” You felt your head tilting, eyes narrowing as you sized the strongest sorcerer up. “You do not get to decide what I can and cannot do, Satoru.”

There, you finally said it, maybe it was very indirect but Satoru knew exactly what you meant with those words. He looked stunned, but at the same time if he had any fight left in him, he wasn’t going to push upon the matter. Your gaze didn’t soften, rather it continued to size him up until his shoulders sagged. “Forget I said anything, you’re right. I don’t get a say in it.” Yet, you could tell he was saying it just to maintain peace. You weighed your options, was it really worth giving up your sanity for a fight you weren’t willing to have yet? In the end, you swallowed your emotions, wondering if it was possible that your hormones were already causing mood swings. “We can discuss this when we are both ready… not weighed down by our own baggage.”

Finally, your gaze had returned to its normal, slightly sad state. Satoru found that it was easier for him to breathe again, so he pulled the towel off his shoulders and turned to enter his bathroom. “I agree.” He called as he hung the damp towel over the top of his curtain rods, letting it air dry till morning so he could put it in the hamper to be washed. “Let’s talk about something else, yeah?” He emerged with a smile, the tension in the room subsiding considerably as you relaxed back into his covers, comfortable under his blankets. “Gladly.” You teased him, turning onto your side as he flopped down beside you. “Do you have any name ideas yet?”

You blinked, not thinking that was the route he was going to take. “Oh-uhm… well I’ve certainly thought about it over the last two weeks. I don’t know if I want to find out their gender… I’m tempted to wait until they are born. Makes it more fun that way but… I’m eager.” You confess with a dreamy smile, one that has Satoru’s lips parting in awe for a moment before he quickly recovers. “I don’t know how you’d do it, I’ve been itching to know since you told me.” He confessed softly, eyes lingering to where your hand had found its new home. He didn’t think a day had gone by in these last few weeks where he didn’t see your hand resting on your stomach.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it, Satoru. When the time comes, when she asks if I want to know the gender… I don’t think I’ll be able to say no.” You laughed softly, you were indifferent to what your baby’s gender would be. You didn’t care if they were a boy or a girl, you would be over the moon with either. But you were dying to know so you could buy them things, settle on a good name, look at baby furniture… “Are you going to share the name ideas or are you keeping them a secret?” He questioned when he saw you were starting to space out. He had been keen on trying to ground you in the present lately.

“Oh well…” you started softly, suddenly shy to share the names you and Suguru had discussed what felt like centuries ago at this point. “For a boy, we discussed names like Ren, Ritsu, Isamu… oh and we really liked the name Hajime.” For some reason it felt very intimate to share this information. “But of course… it all depends on what he looks like. We can pick any name we want but really you can’t make the decisions till you meet them.” Satoru nodded, “I would go out on a limb to suggest Satoru… pretty solid name in my opinion.” You started to laugh, slapping his chest lightly “You’re relentless, Satoru.”

“I may be relentless, but you love me.” He countered as you rolled your eyes. “I, unfortunately, have to agree with that.” You smiled at him, settling further into the bed before he spoke again. “How about girl names?” Satoru questioned, genuine curiosity shining in his eyes. “Oh well, we have way more of those than we do boy names. Suguru is particularly attached to Ayame and Sachi.” Satoru felt his cheeks redden, it seemed that it was just now hitting him how intimate this moment was. “I rather like Sachi and Ayame too but I really like the name Hanako.” There were a few others but you knew those three were the top contenders for a baby girl.

“I mean Satoru can be a unisex name…” He added softly, trying to lighten the mood a bit because this was all starting to feel way too personal. Not that he really minded, it was more for his sake than yours. Laying in bed beside you, discussing baby names, it was playing with his head. “It is fully a male name, I would not name my little girl Satoru.” You laughed softly, trying to stifle your yawn as you pushed his shoulder. “Okay fine, I’ll drop the Satoru name agenda… for now.” You just smiled at him, shaking your head in an attempt to ignore the way your eyelids were steadily dropping. “You’re trying to fight your sleep?” this time, Satoru pushed your shoulder.

“I guess I am…” you yawned, eyes watering “... I just like talking to you, Toru.” You felt warm and safe snuggled under his blankets and under the gaze of his watchful eyes. “I like talking to you too but…” his voice had cracked, heat flooding his cheeks as your eyes closed a little more. “But you need your rest, you’re literally growing another human inside of you. I’ll be here in the morning.” You nodded, eyes nearly closed completely at this point. “I guess you’re right…” he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Always guessing and never just admitting I’m right… good night.” He finished in a way you couldn’t argue with, leaving you to just sleepily hum in acknowledgment.

—

He would stay awake longer than he wanted to, simply to watch your chest rise and fall as you slept soundly. He would remind himself with every small flutter of your eyelashes that you were dreaming, you were alive, you were breathing. Most importantly, he’d try and make himself believe that you weren't on your way out the door, leaving him behind just as Suguru had.

But he knew better, god dammit he knew better and he hated himself for it.

He could see it, with each passing day, each passing hour, your heart was choosing its path. The path that led straight out of his life and into the arms of the man you really loved. How he wished it was him, how desperately, selfishly Satoru wished it were him that you loved. The guilt would gnaw at his chest, making it feel like someone was ripping his heart open tendon by tendon, the blood leaking out an inky black. So weighed down by his guilt that it was tainted.

He had tried, for years he had tried to suppress it. But nothing in this universe could block out the love he held for you so deep in his chest that it took the air from his lungs. He loved you, with every fiber of his being, even now he couldn’t understand how he had gotten so close to you without cracking and shattering to the floor like fine china. Satoru knew that even a month ago, the idea of holding you as you cried would have seemed like an impossible task.

Not because he couldn’t restrain himself, god he couldn’t even think of you in that way without feeling immense guilt. But because he didn’t think he would ever be able to let you go. Initially he had been right, he had struggled, albeit for a fraction of a second, but he had let you go. Had you told him two months ago that he would be falling asleep with you beside him, he would have fainted on the spot, he was sure of it.

Because even though he finally had you beside him, it wasn’t in the way he truly wanted.

The way he truly wanted would forever be unattainable, for you were not his to keep. You had been right, you had been so god damn right when you said that he had no say in what you could and couldn’t do… and it killed him. Fuck did it kill him in every way but literally. If he could, he would keep you by his side forever, away from the man he still considered his one and only best friend, he would raise your baby with you so you didn’t need Suguru to feel whole.

But that was not the route you were going to take, and he knew it. He knew it was only a matter of time until you ripped his chest wide open and left him only a fraction of the man he was. Suguru already had one half of his heart, if you were to leave, you would be taking the only half Satoru had left with you. Leaving him with nothing, completely and utterly alone. Why couldn’t you see he was more than enough for you?

He was convinced he could give you a good, if not better life than what Suguru could offer you. He could provide for you and your child and you would never have to lift a finger for the rest of your life. You wouldn’t have to be a jujutsu sorcerer, you wouldn’t have to work to make money. He could give you and your baby everything you could ever desire. It was a selfish thought, the selfish desire to have someone he couldn’t.

Somewhere along the way, amid his heartbreak over Suguru, he had foolishly believed he could win your heart. As if Suguru’s deflection would suddenly make it easier, make it okay for him to pursue you. What a childish thought, what a selfish, naive thought. He loved you too much to put you in that position, he loved Suguru too much to betray him like that… even though Suguru had arguably done much worse.

He inhaled shakily, watching your lips wobble as you must have dreamt about something. It grounded him for a moment, making everything in his room feel a little too real yet not real at all. Like he hadn’t been aware this whole time that he was alive, that this wasn’t some nightmare. For a moment, he was certain he would black out from the crushing weight of the realization.

So he forced his eyes to close, squeezing shut so tight that colors and odd shapes began to blossom behind his eyelids. It didn’t help the way his chest had begun to rise and fall in a pattern that was starting to look like a panic attack. He didn’t know who to go to, he didn’t know who he could go to for help. The two people he always ran to were the two people he couldn’t.

How was it possible he felt so alone when you were sleeping right beside him? How was it possible that he still ached for you when he knew you would take his heart and stomp on it. You were a ticking time bomb, and it was only a matter of days until your timer went out. So why wasn’t he savoring this? Why wasn’t he soaking in every second he had with you before you left?

How was he already mourning you when you were right beside him?

—

Late November 2007

“It…It…” you huffed, trying to force the buttons of your white top together. “It doesn’t fit?” Shoko questioned with an amused face, watching you lose your breath as you tried to make the buttons clasp. Your stomach had grown considerably over the last few weeks, it was now becoming increasingly difficult to hide the fact that you were twenty weeks pregnant. “It–” you huffed out again, whining as the button you closed popped back open. Defeated, you flopped onto Shoko’s mattress, uttering out a weak “It doesn’t fit.” as she began to laugh.

“Linen like this isn’t forgiving. You’re going to have to hope your jacket fits at least, or else you’ll be telling Yaga whether you want to or not.” You whine again, hands coming down to rest on the swell of your stomach. It had been an experience to learn you were pregnant a few months back, but to see and feel the physical proof of your child was even more surreal. You had managed to sneak past Yaga for the most part, something Satoru couldn’t even grasp. “Shoko, I give up.” She quirked an eyebrow at you as you struggled to get up. “Already?”

“Yeah, already. I’m not going to be able to fit into my uniform and I don’t think I have the energy to try it.” The second trimester had been more forgiving than the first, but you had found yourself quickly running out of breath and stamina. It was only a matter of time until you had to take a break walking up a single flight of stairs. “I’m telling Yaga today. Fuck this.” With your white button up still only covering your breasts, you pushed out of Shoko’s bedroom and marched down the hall towards Satoru’s.

“Satoru! Give me some clothes!” you yelled before even making it to his door, banging on it only once before he was pulling it open, visibly confused. “What in the hell happened to you?” He tried not to snicker, looking over your half-assed appearance. Luckily your uniform skirt was covering your ass but even then, it really didn’t fit you. “Give me some clothes, none of mine fit me anymore, Toru.” You pout, chest rising and falling a little faster than it usually did.

“Alright, alright, come on in.” He pushed his glasses up his face, trying not to show any sort of amusement at the way your bump was fully out in the open. Turning, he made his way to his dresser and pulled out a knit sweater and some sweatpants. “They may be too big for you, we’ll have to go shopping later for a new wardrobe that fits you.” You caught the knit as he tossed it, you could have easily gone down the hall to your own room and gotten some of Suguru’s clothing. But, for some reason, you had chosen Satoru.

He hated to admit it but it gave him butterflies.

“I’m going to have to tell Yaga.” you grumbled as you undid the few buttons you had managed to get shut, tossing the garment to the floor a moment later. “Oh? We’re already at that point, huh?” Satoru leaned against his dresser, watching as you pulled his knit sweater over your head, effectively masking the fact that you were twenty weeks pregnant. “We are, I’m not in the mood to keep sneaking around him.” You shimmied out of your too tight skirt, whining as you kicked it away. You have certainly gotten more whiny and irritable over the last few days.

Maybe it was because you were antsy, with each passing day your child grew. Meaning that Suguru was going on with his day to day life, completely unaware. You had finally decided on your resolve not too long ago, while showering one night in your own room. He needed to know, you couldn’t live with yourself if you grew this baby and birthed them without Suguru ever knowing. “Are we going the second you’re done getting dressed?” Satoru shifted his weight from foot to foot as you stepped into the pair of sweatpants he had given you.

“Yep.” you were curt, worn out already from an action as simple as putting on clothes. “Do we even have a game plan?” Shoko’s sudden appearance made you both jump, your head whipping around so fast it would have been comical to the two of them if they didn’t know any better. Pregnancy mood swings were no joke, Satoru learned the hard way only a few days prior when teasing you and nearly losing a finger to your curse technique. “No, but I don’t see why I need to dance around the obvious. I tell him I’m pregnant and we move on.”

You shrug, struggling to tie the string of Satoru’s sweatpants due to your stomach. “Here , let me.” Satoru closed the distance and easily tied the string in a quick knot, laughing a bit as you huffed out a thanks. “So you’re just going to drop an atomic bomb on the poor man and move on?” Shoko questioned curiously as she flicked her lighter. “Yeah, I am. And then the two of you are coming with me to go get maternity clothes.” You sigh, hand smoothing over your now barely visible bump, smiling a bit at the fluttering kick baby gave you. “Baby agrees, so no declining.”

Satoru saluted you “whatever you say, sergeant.” That made you laugh, tension from your clothes not fitting melting off of your shoulders as you turned to leave. “Oh wow, so we’re going right now.” Shoko fell into step beside you as you marched down the hall, leaving Satoru to scramble and get his dorm door shut before following after you. “No better time than the present, I want to get an early start with my day… you know I’ve been tiring easier nowadays.” One thing you hadn’t fully been prepared for was the amount of physical changes your body would go through.

Sure you knew the basics like your stomach would grow, your breasts would get bigger, you would get bloated… but you hadn’t thought about how strenuous the whole thing would be. Though, it made sense when you sat down in Shoko’s bed one night with your laptop. “Oh, so baby pushes all of my organs out of the way…” To which Shoko had made a fake gagging noise. You used it as a way to antagonize Satoru the next morning, watching the man turn a shade of green as you proudly explained why you had been losing your breath.

“I guess that’s true… it’s almost nine in the morning so I assume Yaga will be in his office.” Satoru sighed as he walked just a step behind you, pulling out his flip phone to file through a few news articles as you three walked. “Good, that means he’ll already be sitting when he gets the shock of his life.” Shoko sighed, pocketing her lighter and unlit cigarette as the three of you left the dorm buildings and began walking through the courtyard towards Yaga’s office. “I mean, I don’t really think it's that big of a deal.” You shrugged, waddling slightly as you moved.

“You’re carrying the black sheep’s baby, of course it's a big deal.”

You glared at Satoru as he finally had enough space to walk beside you. “I don’t mean it in a bad way, it’s just… a lot has happened. The man already beats himself up over the whole thing and now one of his students who he has been trying to watch so diligently… has hid the fact that she’s like five months pregnant. That's even more of a mindfuck.” That made you stop walking for a second, your nonchalant attitude towards it all seemed pretty selfish now that you had heard what Satoru said. “I…shit…I didn’t think about it like that.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault, you’ve had like three whole months to cope with this and sort things out. It's normal for you now, sometimes it’s hard to see it from new perspectives once you’ve gotten so used to it.” Shoko had listened intently, eyes shifting between you and Satoru. “You’re awfully philosophical this morning, Satoru.” The white haired man immediately pushed his glasses further up his nose, cheeks dusting pink as he shrugged. “I dunno, I’ve just had time to think.” She dropped it, focusing her attention back on you as you seemed to inhale deeply.

“I… I’m still telling him. I’ll be gentle with my delivery but I have to rip off the bandaid.” And with that you were walking past them again, leaving the two to follow behind you as you carried yourself with a new purpose. “Do you want us to go in with you?” Shoko asked softly as the three of you crossed the courtyard and entered the building “No… It's best for it to now be some sort of show.” You knew they’d find a way to listen in on the conversation anyways. “Alright but if we hear screaming or the thud of a grown man passing out, we’re coming in.” Satoru sounded uninterested but you knew him better than to believe his facade.

“Yeah, got it.”

With that, you were heading up the steps to the second floor. Yaga’s office was the last door on the left, you couldn't even collect your thoughts enough to practice what you were going to say. At this point, it was better to just let it happen naturally. Your hands smoothed over your covered bump one last time before you stood in front of his doorway “Here goes nothing, little one.” It was still comforting to you to know your baby was always with you. “Principal? Are you in there?” you knocked softly, hoping your voice carried through the thick wood of the door.

“Y/N? Yes, I’m in here, come in.” You let out a shaky breath, pulling at Satoru’s knit to make sure your bump wasn’t visible at all. You pushed the door open, relishing in the feeling of the cold wood under your fingertips before stepping into his office. “Good morning, principal.” you spoke softly, shutting the door behind you with a soft click. Yaga was sitting at his desk, papers scattered over his desk and a couple resting in one of his hands. “Good morning, Y/N… is something wrong?” You rarely came to his office to speak with him, you knew that much would have his suspicions up within the first seconds.

“Nothing is wrong…per say.” Your hands clasped behind your back. “But you need to tell me something, don’t you?” he questioned softly, setting the papers in hands down as you began to rock on your feet. It felt as if a swarm of butterflies were fluttering around your lungs, making it almost hard to breathe as you nodded in confirmation. “Please, come sit.” but your feet wouldn’t move, gluing you to the small space where you were rocking back and forth on your heels. “Please, sir, I’m very antsy so I think it’s best for me to say this while standing.”

“A-alright, Y/N you’re making me a bit nervous. So please…” He swallowed, hands clasping together on his desk as he looked at you expectantly. “...If it is about Suguru…” and you nodded, eyes downcast on the two chairs before his desk. “Listen, this… I don’t even know how to spit this out so forgive me if it’s harsh.” You cleared your throat, not liking how hoarse it was already sounding. Yaga didn’t answer, instead he nodded his head even though he could tell your focus wasn’t on him. “Suguru and I… we had been dating since our first year here.”

“Yes, I know that much…” Soft and unsure, he couldn't quite understand where you were taking this conversation. Though he could certainly guess a handful of routes, what alarmed him most was the fact that Satoru and Shoko weren’t by your side. “We… We were very serious about each other, Principal. He always spoke to me about getting married, starting a family…” you looked up at him then, teeth worrying into the side of your cheek as you tried to get the next part out. Yaga’s forehead had creased in worry “Okay… Y/N have you had contact with him since?”

“I- no, I haven’t heard from him since the letter he left me before he left. No contact sir, that’s not what I’m trying to get at anyways…” You huffed, hands unclasping and reaching up to rub your face as you grew frustrated with yourself. “Principal I… I’ve been hiding something from you for months now and I am no longer able to hide it any longer.” That had him straightening in his chair, eyes narrowing as he waited for you to continue. You took a shaking breath, knowing there were no words that would make this any less jarring for your principal.

“Principal Yaga I…” carefully you grabbed the hem of Satoru’s knit sweater, pulling it tight so it hugged the swell of your baby bump. “... I’m twenty weeks pregnant with Suguru’s baby.”

You watched as the man’s narrow gaze turned considerably wide before softening. “Oh…wow.” He cleared his throat, pulling the sunglasses that had been hanging low on his face off all together. You let the knit go slowly, hiding the bump again as your principal reached up to rub his eyes. “Are you… principal are you crying?” you sounded mildly aghast at the sight. “No no I…” but he was. After a moment he set his hands down, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “I’m sorry I'm sure that’s not the best reaction to receive after telling someone you’re…”

“Yeah it’s… well it’s not as bad as I feared.” you cut him off, laughing a bit because among all the emotions you could sense, anger was not one of them. “I’m sorry you felt the need to hide this from me for… damn nearly five months…” he mulled over the fact that you had said you were twenty weeks into this, well into your second trimester. “I just didn’t know how to go about it sir… only Shoko and Satoru are aware of my… circumstances.” Yaga nodded, muttering a soft “I figured that much.” before sighing heavily. “Suguru has no idea.” he spoke softly, watching you nod with a sad look on your face. “I found out two weeks after he…left.”

So not only had you been dealing with the defection of your boyfriend - whom you loved with your entire being - you had also been reeling with the news of your own pregnancy. “I… you’re so young and you’ve already gone through so much.” Yaga spoke more to himself than you, that didn’t stop you from trying to lighten the mood. “A complicated life comes with the job of being a sorcerer. You know that Principal.” You laughed, hands finding their home on top of the swell of your stomach. Seeing you smile eased some of Yaga’s concerns.

“I suppose… I’m glad you were able to tell me. I… take it you won’t be fitting into your uniform from here on out?” he looked you over, recognizing the clothes to likely be Satoru’s. “Oh yeah, it’s not happening from here on out.” You laughed a bit “If it’s alright with you, I’ll be heading into the city with Satoru and Shoko to get some clothes that fit me… I can look for some clothes reminiscent of our uniform.” you laugh a little more, watching a smile crack on his features. “Or I could see about getting you a uniform altered to fit you as you grow. Either way you’ll need some normal clothing that fits you…” he sighed as you nodded.

“You three be careful, I know you’re all more than capable but… still.” He sighed, voice raising a little bit “If either of them get hurt, I’m blaming you, Satoru.” Behind you, the wooden door flung open. “Hey!” But, realizing he and Shoko had been caught for eavesdropping, Satoru’s cheeks flushed pink. You whirled around, bursting out in laughter as Shoko’s hand covered her own mouth in attempts of hiding her own giggles. “I stand by what I said… Now go, have fun.” He sighed, arms unfolding as he sat forward in his chair to continue mulling over paperwork.

“Alright, thank you, Principal. I appreciate you for being so understanding.”

He gave you a warm smile and a soft nod, watching you exit with the other two. Once Yaga’s door was shut with a soft click, once he heard your voices and feet fading down the hall, his smile dropped. “That poor girl…” he wasn’t mad that you were pregnant, nor was he mad that you had hidden it from him. He was more so sad that you had felt the need to hide it, especially regarding your circumstances with Suguru and all.

Which opened a whole new can of worms, he couldn't quite believe that you would keep such news from Suguru… maybe that’s why he’d noticed Shoko and Satoru always by your side.

Maybe it wasn’t just to support a dear friend going through heartbreak. Perhaps they felt it too, felt that you were going to slip through their fingers just as Suguru had.

—

“Are you sure clothes shopping is the task you really want to complete right now?” Shoko puffed out smoke as she talked to you, navigating the busy sidewalks with ease as Satoru led the way. “It needs to be done, I can’t wear Satoru’s clothing forever.” Shoko understood that ideology and all, but you had been ready to blow your brains out this morning over a linen dress shirt not buttoning. At this rate, she was certain just about any clothing not fitting you would get you worked up like the world was ending. “She can borrow my clothes any time.”

Satoru laughed as he looked back at you, finding it hysterical that even with the sweats tied, you had to keep pulling them up. At this point, they were nearly at your chest, relying solely on your stomach to keep them from falling down. “All due respect, Toru. I look like a fucking clown in these pants… your tops may not be safe from me but I need pants that fit.” Satoru shook his head, an amused smile as he finally found the clothing store you loved.

“You can help yourself to my shirts and sweaters any time, Y/N. You know that.” You scrunch your nose, shaking your head a bit as you stop in front of a store he had walked right past. “I’ll try this one first.” You could hear Shoko laugh as the automatic doors open for you, Satoru’s feet slapping the pavement as he stomped back to where you were. “Don’t get pissy cause you strolled right by, Toru.” But he only grumbled, falling to the side as Shoko shoved him teasingly.

You spent the next fifteen minutes browsing the racks, finding things in various sizes that you’d unfortunately have to try on. All the while, Satoru had found his home on a bench in the middle of the bustling store, his legs crossed as he sorted through things on his phone. “I think this one will be cute, but you’ll have to try it on in this size and this size.” Shoko handed you a knit sweater similar to the one you were already wearing, a smile on her face as she spotted something else. “We’ll have to find a proper maternity store.”

Shoko mumbled as she filled through the racks again for the article of clothing in your size range. “Satoru, go see if they have a baby store around here.” Shoko ordered the man who didn’t move a muscle. “Yeah, no way.” You snickered as you dropped a few more items on his lap. Dutifully, he held them there with one hand while looking at his small phone screen. “I’ll just go ask one of the employees here.” you wandered off after saying that, hearing Shoko scold Satoru for making the pregnant woman go look for help.

You moved with ease through the busy aisles, walking past the floor to length mirrors as you did so. Just beyond the windows was the busy sidewalks of downtown Tokyo, mid-day sun making it look much later than it was due to the shortening days. You weren’t sure what possessed you to be so observant as you walked the length of the store, really you should have been looking for an associate. But there, across the street, visible between the people passing by, was a person you would recognize anywhere. You felt your heart stop at the sight.

You questioned it for only a split second, feet frozen in place as you watched two young girls come bouncing out of a cafe with drinks in hand. He smiled at them, a smile you had only been able to see in your dreams, before turning to head down the sidewalk with them in tow. It took you all of two seconds to collect yourself enough to move. Without thinking much beyond the fact that Suguru was across the street from you, you moved as fast as your feet could carry you without breaking out into an all out sprint.

You couldn’t hear anything beyond the ringing in your ears, had you been able to you would have heard the confused calls of your name from Shoko and Satoru as they watched you run out the door. You couldn't breath as you moved down the sidewalk, eyes laser focusing on the back of Suguru’s head as he moved among the many bobbing heads. Your inability to breathe in that moment stopped you from calling out to him, though you doubt he would have been able to hear you anyways. Still, you pushed through the people flooding the sidewalk, not acknowledging a single disgruntled look as your feet carried you towards him.

Move. Move faster. Fucking move faster!

You screamed inside of your own mind, ignoring the way your body screamed in protest from the amount of physical movement. For the first time in months, Suguru was in your reach and yet you couldn’t seem to close the distance. It was like some nightmare, no matter how fast you moved, Suguru never seemed to get any closer to you. Yet, you still saw the back of his head, he was still there, you wouldn’t give up until you couldn’t see him anymore. It was creeping up on you with each and every step, the deep rooted heartbreak from his departure.

For some reason, it felt like you were ripping open a wound that hadn’t even begun to heal yet. Yanking each carefully placed stitch with nothing more than dull fingernails. It came undone easily, blood leaking out in time with the pounding of your heart as Suguru’s head disappeared around the corner of an intersection. A feeble cry of “No!” left your lips, just as labored as your breathing as you reached the end of the sidewalk and looked right in the direction he had turned. But, there was no sight of him anymore, gone from your view once again.

You felt the steady build in your chest, creeping up your throat as you felt the urge to sob violently where you stood. Yet the tears wouldn’t come, catching somewhere in your throat so you truly felt like there was no air in your lungs. “What the fuck was that?” Satoru’s voice pulled you from your daze, your head turning to see a concerned Shoko and Satoru panting as they caught up to where you now stood. Yet, you couldn’t hold Satoru’s bewildered gaze for long, eyes returning to the street once more. “I…” you started, barely hearing yourself as you spoke.

“I saw… I saw him. It was him.” you managed to spit out, lips parted as you tried to force air in your lungs. “Him? As in Suguru?” Shoko spoke for Satoru, had you been able to turn your head and meet his gaze you would have seen that he had turned as pale as a sheet of paper. You could only muster a nod, shoulders shaking with the force of your breathing as you tried to ground yourself in reality once again. So many emotions were running rampant through your head that it was turning into a dull buzz where none of them could make their way up to the surface.

“You’re… positive it was him?” Shoko closed what little distance there was, hand resting on your bicep as if she was afraid you’d take off running again. “P-positive. I’d know him anywhere… The little girls were with him too.” You felt your baby kick, your hand flying up to rest on the swell of your stomach as you were finally grounded by their movement. “Sorry honey… I didn’t mean to scare you.” you spoke downwards, soothing your hand over the knit sweater to comfort the child within your womb. You doubted it would really comfort them, more so it was to comfort you.

You pulled your gaze away from the busy street, head turning to look at Satoru but the man was already taking off in the direction you had claimed to see Suguru go. “S-satoru?” Shoko’s head turned with yours, watching him stalk down the busy sidewalk. “He…” You started, but your voice sounded hollow as Shoko began guiding you back in the direction you had come from. “But… he…” Your head followed Satoru until Shoko had guided you away from the intersection and down the sidewalk. “Leave him be.” Shoko spoke slowly, head trained forward.

“But he… Satoru…” Shoko cut you off with a tug a little harder than the others “Satoru is a big boy, you are pregnant. You are in no condition to be booking it out of a store and into the busy road, did you even bother looking before you crossed the street?” For the first time ever, you could hear anger in Shoko’s words. Your silence was more than enough of an answer for her, a scoff leaving her lips as she pulled you over to a small area cut off from the endless streams of people making their way through the city’s center. “You cannot fucking do that, Y/N.”

But she could tell by the look in your eyes that you were anywhere but this moment in time.

“You are pregnant. Carrying a baby inside of your body, who is reliant on you and you alone to keep them safe. You almost got hit by a fucking car. Do you even know that? You ran out into that street in front of cars Y/N.” Shoko’s voice wavered, to add to the many firsts that were occurring in these moments, her voice had begun to waver. As if she were scared… in truth she was. She had nearly witnessed you and your unborn baby be killed and yet you were completely oblivious. You caught sight of Suguru and you had left everything behind.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, amidst all the buzzing in your head and ringing in your ears, you were processing the gravity of the situation. Your actions had so blatantly given away your inner thoughts, thoughts you hadn’t intended on letting out. You would, without fail, everytime, follow that man if given the chance. It made your heart ache, the same deep rooted ache that you were certain would never leave you until he was in your arms again. “Satoru…” Shoko spoke softly, your head whipping in the direction Shoko was looking.

Satoru was making his way back up the sidewalk, face pale and eyes hollow. “I lost him.” he spoke softly, somehow still audible over the roaring of the city. ��You saw him?” Shoko questioned, her grip on your bicep lowering to your wrist because she really couldn’t trust you to not run away from her. “Only for a moment, he was getting into a car. The thing was driving off by the time I reached the spot where it had been parked.” Then, finally, knowing he was long gone by now, you could breathe again. The urge to run was gone, leaving you drained.

“I want to go home.”

“Yeah, me too.” Satoru uttered softly, arm coming up to rub the back of his neck. He seemed just as disconnected as you felt, leaving Shoko to look between the two of you in concern. “I’ll call for the car.” She pulled out her phone, clicking a number she had on speed dial and waited. Your day had effectively been ruined, leaving you and Satoru in shambles all over again. “We can try this again another day… but you need clothes that fit sooner than later.” Shoko knew she was practically speaking to herself at this point, flipping her phone shut and shoving it in her pocket.

The three of you stood quietly off to the side, waiting for the car to pull up to the curb and take you home. Your mind was still reeling of course, so many thoughts at once that it had essentially gone blank. But there, amidst the haze of your confusion, one question was burning brightly. “Why didn’t you use infinity?” Your tone was gravelly, eyes meeting Satoru’s dissociated gaze. “...what?” he questioned back as if there was no air in his lungs as he spoke. “Why didn’t you use infinity?” you say it again, a little stronger this time.

You had no intentions for it to come out accusatory, nor did you mean it to be rude. You were just stupidly unaware at that moment, your brain so clouded that it had reduced you to nothing. “Why didn’t you use your curse technique?” he countered, knowing your own technique would not have been able to stop Suguru from getting out of your grasp. “Why didn’t you look before crossing the street? Why didn’t you run faster?” Satoru spat at you when you didn’t answer, regret dawning in the back of his mind when he saw your eyes brim with tears.

“That is enough, Satoru.” Shoko interjected before you could even mumble out a feeble response, sniffling harshly as you rubbed your watering eyes. “You are both hurt. There is no god damn point in sitting here asking the other why they didn’t do something because it’s done and over with now.” Shoko’s head was focused on Satoru, glaring at the man harshly as he schooled his features into stoic disinterest. “Better yet, you two were so fucking shell shocked by his sudden appearance that you lost all sense of reason, so there. That’s why infinity wasn’t used.”

But still, Shoko was staring at Satoru. It angered you a bit, sniffling a little harder as you couldn’t seem to control the watery whimpers that fell from wobbling lips. She should be mad at both of you, and instead she was primarily scolding Satoru and treating you as a frail object. But, given your hopeless and teary eyed gaze, Satoru didn’t blame Shoko for focusing her anger on him. He regretted it almost as soon as he spoke the words out loud, having read your intentions wrong. But he couldn’t swallow his pride and apologize for it just yet, still too overwhelmed.

You were both saved from her wrath due to the car pulling up to the curb. “We’re going home, and you two are sitting in the back seat.” she tugged you along, reaching for Satoru’s wrist and tugging him too. “We’ll figure out your clothing situation another day.” She grumbled as she pulled the door open for you “for now, just wear Satoru’s clothes… or Suguru’s.” she added the last bit softly, glancing up to see Satoru shoot her a look as he rounded the car to get in on the other side. “Next time, it’ll just be the two of us going out.”

You only nodded, sinking into the soft back seat of the school’s car and letting Shoko shut the door for you. Satoru settled in beside you, making a point to keep his distance and look out the window as the car began to drive off. You ignored it, not in the right headspace to even tackle what the man’s withdrawn behavior could really mean. You’d just assume he was upset with you until he was ready to talk, because right now all you wanted was your own bed, in your own room, and to sleep until you couldn’t remember why your heart was so heavy in the first place.

—

December 24th, 2007 [1:00pm]

twenty five weeks.

You were twenty five weeks into your pregnancy which meant you had roughly fourteen weeks left until your baby was born. Still, Suguru had no idea. Over half way through your pregnancy and the father of your baby had no idea you were even pregnant. “It’s christmas eve, little one.” You spoke softly as you sat alone in your dorm room, one of your own sweaters sitting snugly on your body, your pregnant belly was too big to hide at this point. “I can’t believe you’re going to get bigger…” you cooed softly, rubbing your stomach as you sat at your desk.

You haven't really been speaking to anyone, especially after your near encounter with Suguru back at the end of November. You and Satoru had made up to an extent, but you could still feel a strain on your relationship. That strain was leaking into your relationship with Shoko as well, isolating you from the feeling of comfort the two once brought you. You had ended up sleeping in your own room that night, not responding at first to either of them when they pressed you. “I just need space to think.” you had finally caved late that night when Shoko wouldn’t stop texting.

You hadn’t returned to either of their beds since, finding comfort in your not so alone solitude. You had your baby with you - in you - you were never truly alone nowadays. For some reason, neither of them pushed you further about the sudden switch of wanting to be alone. In the following weeks of Suguru’s deflection, you couldn’t stand being in your once lively dorm room… despite not being able to drag yourself out of bed most mornings. Now, Satoru and Shoko saw you sparsely, so long as you were on campus, they supposed it was alright to leave you alone.

It took a few days for the realization to settle in, but your reaction to seeing Suguru again had really done a number on them. “I’ll be out of their hair soon enough…” You murmured to your quiet room, pen scratching the notepad on your desk fervently as you expressed your sorrow. A faint smile was present on your lips as you wrote down your goodbye note to Shoko, a weight slowly being lifted off of your tired shoulders with each sentence you neatly scribbled down.

You would be leaving Jujutsu Tech tonight.

And if you could help it, you would never be coming back.

That was your final decision roughly one week after the whole incident, the guilt of feeling like a burden had been weighing on you since. You would be going to see him tonight, for the first time in four months you would be seeing Suguru… but he would have no idea it was you. It was all planned out, like clockwork really, you had worked through every fine detail of your departure. Your bag was packed and shoved under your bed, a duffle filled with some sentimental clothing items, your personal belongings and things that meant a lot to you.

Most of your dorm room would be staying behind, just as Suguru had.

You were - intentionally and not at the very same time - following in his footsteps. Albeit you’d have it a little harder because you had a funny feeling Satoru, Shoko, and Yaga already suspected you were ready to jump ship… they just didn’t know when. You set your pen down for a moment, stretching each finger and flexing your hand to shake out the wariness. You would be leaving soon after the sun had set, while everyone who was still present on campus attended the annual christmas party. You would feign a migraine, something you had been doing quite frequently so it wouldn’t come off too strange when Shoko or Satoru came knocking.

Once you were certain the dorms were empty, you and your baby would be off. Only two pit stops on your way out the door, Shoko’s dorm and Satoru’s dorm, so you could leave them your letters before disappearing into the night. The first stop after that would be the hotel room you had booked in Shinjuku, you’d place your bag there and get ready. You would be meeting with Suguru at 6pm, under an alias and disguise. You had called his assistant on a pay phone only a few days ago, begging for an appointment on christmas eve with the “mighty healer” taking pity on you, she ran it by Suguru and he agreed.

The only reason you were doing this under a disguise was because you needed to get your emotions sorted. If you saw him for the first time again in months, face to face with nowhere to run, you were positive you would break down immediately. So, you’d ease into things as best you could. If things worked out, you would only have to live inside a hotel room for less than a week. But if things didn’t work out like you prayed they would, you and your baby would figure it out as you went. You just couldn’t bear the weight of your guilt any longer, you felt as if you were dragging everyone down.

Carefully, your pen was picked up and you began scratching your thoughts. Satoru’s letter has been finished for three days now, sitting neatly in an envelope on your bottom drawer. You were finishing Shoko’s now, front and back of each paper so the letter itself was nearly four pages long. Satoru was shorter, a single page because if you let yourself get carried away, you were certain you would run out of paper before you could finish your thoughts. Your teeth sunk into the flesh of your lower lip, worrying it deeply as you tried to conclude her letter.

Your pen froze on the paper as you stared at what you had written, for some reason it was hitting you now. Tears were welling in your eyes as you sniffled, trying to blink them away while trying to avoid them landing on the paper and soiling it. “C’mon now… it would be so unfair to her to litter this with my tears.” You pushed the paper away, getting up from your desk to make your way into the bathroom. Splashing cold water on your face seemed like the best solution, bending over the sink as best you could you let the water pool in your hands.

A couple rounds later you were able to regain your composure, reaching for the towel you kept hanging on the wall and using it to dry your face. You stood in the all too bright lights of your bathroom, looking at your reflection just to find it felt foreign for a moment. Twenty five weeks into your pregnancy, your stomach had certainly popped at this point, making it hard for you to believe it would continue to get bigger. “The human body is fascinating.” you muttered softly, turning to the side so you could see how you looked with your sweater on. “You’ll be difficult to conceal, little one. Though, your daddy won’t know it’s me…”

You were still going to put effort into trying to hide your pregnancy. That was a part of your plan you truly couldn’t explain, it just didn’t feel right waltzing in there with your pregnant belly on display while he had no idea it was you and his child. “Let’s finish Auntie Shoko’s letter, shall we?” You needed to get through it, you had no time to really delay things further. The sun would be setting in a few hours, the party would start at five, you had four hours total left for your time at Jujutsu Tech. Not a single second of it could be wasted.

You sat down again, inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth as you picked up the pen with shaky hands. You reread everything you had written thus far, all the way up to your half done sentence. You picked it up front here, finishing your thoughts and concluding the letter within twenty minutes. With a labored sigh of relief, you pulled another envelope out of your drawer and folded the letter neatly, slipping it inside and sealing it. Your hand trembled tenfold as you wrote Shoko’s name neatly on the back. “Done… it’s done.”

December 24th, 2007 [3:30pm]

You had drawn your blinds, got a hot pack ready, set medicine and a glass of water on your nightstand. Now, you laid in near darkness, counting down the seconds until Shoko or Satoru appeared at your door. You had planted the first seed an hour prior, telling Shoko you felt a migraine coming on over text and that you’d have to lay down for a bit to see if it would pass. She had responded with an “okay” and let you know she or Satoru would be checking on you within the hour. If they stayed true to their word, it would be any time now.

You passed the time by looking out your window, despite the blinds being drawn you could still see slivers of the darkening sky. “Winter is such a melancholic season, little one.” not even evening yet and the sky was changing from blue to orange and finally fading into indigo. “I’m glad you won’t be born in the dead of winter… rather somewhere in early spring.” It was odd to think that the year was nearly through, that Christmas was looming just hours away. This was arguably the least festive Christmas you had ever experienced.

“Ya know, this isn’t how I thought my first pregnancy would go.” You whisper to your empty room, knowing it didn’t matter how quietly you talked, your baby would hear you. At least, that’s what you liked to think, that one thought always brought you comfort. “I swear mommy is going to fix this, my little love. You will be so cherished and so loved by me and your daddy.” You exhaled slowly, not expecting your own rambling to tug at your chest the way it did. “Soon, soon my little love, soon it will be okay.” You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as you struggled to roll onto your side, placing the hotpack on your head once more.

It took all of five minutes for footsteps to approach your door, a gentle rasp of fingers hitting the wood and a soft call of your name. “Come in.” You didn’t have to try and sound weak, the frog in your throat aiding you. “Well, this is a depressing Christmas eve… how are you?” You struggled to roll over yet again, squinting as the hall light flooded your room, silhouetting Satoru’s lanky figure. “Not good, I don’t think I’ll be able to go, Satoru.” You could see him shifting from foot to foot. “Do you… want me to stay with you?” and for a moment you had to school your expression from the sheer panic that nearly pulled your features.

“N-no, god that would be useless. Go enjoy your christmas eve, I have my pain meds and I’ve got some pregnancy safe sleeping meds. I’ll be out like a light within the next hour. Have fun, Satoru.” You urged him, praying he wouldn’t be stubborn. Reluctantly, you heard him sigh. “Are you positive?” You weren��t sure why him giving up so easily made your heart ache. For the sake of your plan, you couldn’t let him stay. But, for some reason, it made your chest heavy that he didn’t put up more of a fight. So different… Why are things so different? “Positive.” You gave him a weak smile, still squinting because of the hall light.

“Alright… well… merry christmas, Y/N. I’ll give everyone your well wishes.”

“Thank you, Satoru… Merry christmas.”

You watched him leave, a gentle click of your door shutting flowed by his feet padding down the hallway again. It wasn’t until silence was the only thing ringing in your ears that the choked sobs you had tried to hold off all day came forward. You couldn’t catch your breath with the force of them, clutching your chest as you curled in on your side. Deep, guttural sobs shook your frame until they turned completely silent. In the dark of your room, you gasped for air that would not enter your lungs. Your cries so wheezy and silent that you were certain you would pass out if you could not get a grip and catch your breath.

It hurts… god it fucking hurts… What went wrong? Where did I go so horribly wrong? Your own thoughts seem to bounce off the cavern of your skull, echoing in your ears as hot tears ruined your pillowcase. You forced yourself into a sitting position despite your body screaming in protest, your baby’s fluttering kicks urging you to relax before you sent them into distress along with you. “I'm sorry…I’m sorry.” You could barely speak, stumbling out of your bed and towards your bathroom, blindly searching for the knob as your vision was clouded with tears.

All you could think about was cold water, splashing cold water on your face would ground you for a moment. Though, cold water certainly could not cure a breaking heart. Your slowly swelling eyes remained shut as you flicked on the LED lights of your bathroom, blindly walking to your sink and turning the cold water on. It contrasted starkly with the hot tears that had been streaming down your cheeks, filling your nose and making it run. You hated it, every second of it, so utterly hopeless and confused. You never wanted to leave on a bad note, but it didn't seem like something that could be helped. Not now at least…

You bent down, eyes opening a fraction to see the crystal clear water pool in your cupped hands before overflowing. After a moment, you splashed it up on your face, gasping as it seemed to shock your system out of its haze. You did it again, and again, and again, until the tears stopped and you could breathe without needing to think about it. “There we go… I’m so sorry, little one. Mommy didn’t mean to frighten you like that…” Slowly, your baby’s hyperactivity slowed, relaxing with your calming heart. “I’m still learning… I promise I’ll get the hang of it.”

“You are pregnant. Carrying a baby inside of your body, who is reliant on you and you alone to keep them safe. You almost got hit by a fucking car.”

Shoko’s words still hung heavy on you from that day. Ever since, you have become all too aware of your baby. Especially since you had begun spending so much time alone, every waking thought was about them and their well being. Even at doctor’s appointments you were certain Shoko only accompanied you so you wouldn’t use it as a chance to run off. “I think it’s almost time for us to go, little one.” You had told your doctor that you didn’t want to know the gender, as much as it killed you to wait. You wanted Suguru present when it was revealed.

With a heavy sigh you grabbed a towel, drying your face and tossing it in the hamper to never be washed. Your mind was still filled with ten million and one thoughts, but you needed to try and stay level headed if you wanted to get off of campus without being spotted. You gave your bathroom one last glance over, three years this room had been your home. After tonight, you would likely never see it again. With a small amount of hesitation, you flicked off the lights and shut the door. Now you were faced with every step that needed to be taken to pull this all off.

The first step was to lock your door, you couldn’t bring yourself to breathe until you did so. Crossing the short distance, you held the knob title and turned the lock until it clicked. That pulled a fraction of the stress off of your shoulders, allowing you to move a little more freely about your bedroom as you got yourself ready. You weren’t particularly in a rush, though the racing of your heart certainly made you feel like you should be. It took you about twenty minutes to sort through the contents of your bag before throwing a few more things inside of it.

By now the sun had set, 4:00pm was staring at you in big red letters on your nightstand.

I’ve got time. You spoke to yourself, shuffling over to your desk to pull the bottom drawer open. You had been strategic, burning and disposing of any information you had kept hidden in there. Not that there was truly anything worthwhile, you just felt a bit paranoid leaving it behind. Now, all that was left were the two letters you’d be placing in their dorm rooms. This was how you’d make sure they had actually left for the party. You had plenty of excuses made up in the event they were still inside their respective dorm rooms. “Alright little one, let’s go.”

You carefully placed the letters inside of your coat, shielding them from unwanted eyes in the event things turned for the worse. You tried to move with no real direction, if you seemed intent on getting somewhere, it would easily give you away. At least that’s what you figured while unlocking your door and heading out into the quiet hallway. Squinting, playing the part of someone who had a raging migraine, you shuffled down the hall towards Shoko’s bedroom. Your sock covered feet seemed to echo with each soft tap, your body carrying you down the halls you had considered your one and only home for nearly three years.

“Shoko?” you knocked on her door, speaking loud enough that if anyone was in there, they’d hear you. After a moment of no answer, you grabbed the knob and pushed it open. Shoko’s room was dark, all lights off save for the festive holiday lights she had strung up around the perimeter of her dorm room. It’s really been that long… I had no idea she even did this… the weight of that realization made it hard to breathe again, chest tight as you made your way forward while tugging the envelope with her name on it out of your coat. Her room once felt so safe to you, so homey and secure… Now it felt as if you were walking into a stranger’s dorm.

It was astonishing how quickly relationships could change over one “small” event in time.

Your heart was still pounding in your chest as you dropped the note on her desk. You didn’t want to waste another second, turning on your heels and shutting the door as if you had never been in there to begin with. Next was Satoru, his room just a little ways down the hall. Your feet seemed to move slower than before, one hand resting on the swell of your stomach as you waddled to the door you had opened and shut so many times over the years you’d never be able to keep count. You could feel it again, the frog forming in your throat as you held your hand up.

But you stopped mid-way to the door, you never knocked before entering Satoru’s dorm room. That would immediately raise suspicions if he still happened to be inside. So, one last time, for old time sake, you pushed into his unlocked dorm room and heaved a heavy sigh as you were greeted with nothing in return. Satoru had left his desk lamp on, leaving the room in a golden glow despite nobody being inside. You couldn’t understand why you felt disappointed about the fact that he wasn’t there. Just as you couldn’t describe the heaviness in your chest when he didn’t put up a fight only a little while ago. Such stupid emotions… stupid stupid stupid.

You shut his door behind you as you entered his dorm for what would be the very last time. It seemed to suck the air from your lungs as you stepped further into the room you had once been so familiar with. Only a few weeks had passed and yet you felt as if an eternity had expanded across the short period of time. It almost felt foreign as you stepped towards the bed you had spent so many nights in, eyes roaming over his disheveled covers from his hazardous bed making skills. You pulled the letter out of your coat, laughing a bit as you realized your stupid mistake, not that it mattered now. You’d be out the door in less than ten minutes.

You left the envelope neatly on his pillow, holding back tears as you turned away and walked out of the room all together. There was no point in reminiscing, no point in wishing for things to return to how they once were, you needed to do what you deemed best for yourself and your child. That meant being with your baby’s father, that meant doing what you could to rebuild the things Suguru had destroyed. For some reason, that seemed easier than staying at Jujutsu Tech. You pulled Satoru’s door shut, adrenaline flooded your veins as you processed the fact that all you had left to do now was grab your few things and leave.

You moved down the hall quickly, feet carrying you faster than they had in a long while. Every step you took, out in the open, felt like you were begging for someone to accidentally stumble upon you. You could heave a sigh of relief as your dorm door was in sight once again. You pushed into your dorm room again, throat feeling dry as you grabbed the duffle bag off of your bed and slung it over your shoulder. You looked around one last time, pregnancy hormones making you suddenly sentimental over everything you’d be leaving behind. They are nothing more than inanimate belongings, get a hold on reality. You scolded yourself as your eyes welled with tears, you’d have plenty of time in the future to gain new sentiment over such trivial things.

Right now, you need to get out. He was waiting for you, unknowingly Suguru was waiting for you. You’d be damned if you gave up the opportunity now. With a heavy heart, you crossed the distance one last time and turned off the lights of your dorm before stepping into the hall. With a click that felt almost deafening, it was time for you to make your way out of the dorm building without gaining any unwanted attention. You placed everything on your fellow classmates being at that damned christmas party, you just prayed it was a safe bet to make. You moved equally as fast as you had moments prior, feet carrying you and your child down the wooden halls you could no longer call your home. Each step seemed to creak loudly as it bounced off empty walls.

Your feet hit the landing of the first floor and you felt like they’d give out beneath you, Everything was too silent, though you supposed that should be a good thing for your sake. It made you feel uneasy regardless, every fiber of your being seemed to come alive with each step you took. The air in your lungs seemed to be frozen as your hands met the cool metal of the back door, one push and your fate would be sealed. For the first time that day, you didn’t second guess a single action you made, pushing it open to be greeted with a gush of cold air.

Freedom.

Had you not been so heavily pregnant, you would have taken off in an all out sprint. You didn’t realize how badly you ached to do so until the ability was taken from you. Instead, you moved as fast as your feet would allow you to, hand resting on your stomach to try and minimize the amount of bouncing the action was causing you. You would be off campus within seconds, out into the real world and on the subway before you could process it. It seemed as if the universe put wind on your sail again, the only thing thundering in your ears was the sound of your own racing heart. It was within your reach, so close you could taste it, the happiness you so desperately longed to feel again, it was coming back.

“Y/N?”

You stopped short, the air leaving your lungs just as it had left your metaphorical sail. You turned slowly, bracing yourself for who you’d see calling your name. Much to your surprise, it was the last person you had expected to see. “...Nanami?” The blonde was looking you over with creased brows, nodding a bit as you stated the obvious. “Yeah, it’s me uh…wow.” he commented softly, taking a timid step towards you. “I came for the party though I didn’t really want to… I see you’ve got a lot going on.” He cleared his throat, it dawned on you in that moment that he had no idea you were pregnant until this very second. “I-yeah. You could put it like that.”

“It’s Suguru’s, isn’t it?” he questioned softly, finally dragging his eyes from the swell of your stomach and up to your face. “It is, he just doesn’t know it yet.” Yet. Nanami wasn’t stupid, seeing the duffle bag slung over your shoulder he knew you were leaving. “I take it that’s where you’re heading now?” his voice was achingly quiet, though he had never been one to talk loudly. “It… yeah it is. I…umm… Nanami, they don’t know I’m leaving.” You started, your throat feeling dry as you tried to figure out how to proceed. “You’re not coming back.” he stated it more than questioned. Carefully, you nodded. “I’m not coming back.” you repeated with a sad smile.

“I understand. Trust me, if anyone is to understand where you’re coming from with that logic, it’s me.” You felt the tension melting from your shoulders “Nanami, promise me you won’t say a word… I left them letters I just… I can’t have them stopping me now. Not when my mind is made up.” The blonde nodded slowly, eyes roaming over your body and back to your baby bump. “You have to do what you think is best for you and your baby. If leaving this all behind, if going to Suguru is what you deem best, then nobody has the right to disagree with you.” He stated it matter-of-factly to you, arms crossing as a gentle smile crossed his face.

“Take care of yourself, and your baby, Y/N. Tell Suguru I said hello, and I promise your secret is safe with me.” As quickly as it started, it seemed to stop. Nanami had always been a man of purpose. “I will… thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, Nanami.” The blonde nodded, still smiling a bit as he turned away from you. “This never happened, I’m sure you’re on a tight schedule.” But his tone was lighter for once, making you smile a bit as you uttered out a soft “yeah… see you later, Nanami.” You took off again, feet carrying you down the dirt paths with ease. Unknowingly to you, Nanami was watching you go, not moving from his spot until you had disappeared from his sight. He sighed deeply before finally moving the other way.

“I hope you find your peace, Y/N.”

December 24th, 2007 [4:45pm]

You held onto the iron pole of the subway cart as it barreled down the tracks. Standing where you were now, surrounded by people heading home to spend the holidays with their families, fluorescent lights nearly blinding, you felt unreal. As if this was all a figment of your imagination and you’d wake up in your bed, in your dorm room, hopelessly alone again. It hadn’t been until you arrived at the station that you realized just how suffocated you had felt at Jujutsu Tech. Satoru and Shoko had been so strict in hopes of keeping you from flying the nest, instead it had the polar opposite effect. I guess I should thank them.

You didn’t hold any malice towards the two, but it did sting when you thought of how quickly they changed. You could, arguably, understand where they were coming from. By no means were claiming innocence to anything that had gone down between the three of you. It was crazy to you how less than forty five minutes of freedom was already giving you a level head and better perspective. Though you doubted you’d be able to cling onto sanity for much longer, with each minute that ticked by you were closer to seeing Suguru. That alone made your heart swell.

Based on the lights above your head, you’d be at Shinjuku Station in less than three minutes. From there it would be taking a taxi to the hotel you had booked a room at. Then, so long as check-in went smoothly, you’d be in your room and getting ready before 5:30. You knew Suguru’s religious group was a fifteen minute walk from your hotel, but a taxi would get you there in five. Either way, you’d get there by 6pm, you didn’t care how. Your heart was thumping erratically, you knew you’d need to disconnect your phone once you got off the train.

You prayed with each passing second that you wouldn’t feel it buzz, that nobody would ring your line because truthfully you didn’t think you’d be able to handle knowing they knew. You’d rather be selfishly, blissfully unaware of when their worlds came crashing down for a second time. You would need to destroy your phone once you arrived at the station, you could worry about buying a new one after the holidays had passed. Truthfully, there was no reason for you to remain in contact with anyone anymore, what was done was done and that was simply it. It did make your heart ache though, but you were a big girl, you made the bed and you now had to sleep in it.

The subway cart came to a halt, sending you forward a bit as your clammy hand gripped the pole a little harder. An automated voice came over the speaker to announce that you had arrived at Shinjuku station. With that, the doors were sliding open, crowds of people moving to exit the train just as people flooded to enter it. Luckily for you, people could see your state, knowing you were pregnant, many moved out of the way just a bit to accommodate you as you walked by. You had ended up standing the whole train ride despite many offering you their seats. You had assured them you were fine, antsy even and it would help your nerves to stand.

Your feet felt as heavy as led as you carried yourself through the brightly lit station towards the escalators that would carry you back up to street level. With your phone clutched tightly in your hand, you activated your curse technique. You could feel it now, the metal and glass that made up your flip phone crushed until it resembled nothing more than a flattened soda can. Completely unusable, utterly destroyed. You dropped it in a passing trash can, body feeling significantly lighter now that there was no way for them to directly contact you. Your feet hit the moving platform a second later, carrying you upwards, a step closer to your goal.

December 24th, 2007 [5:45pm]

You were early, you couldn’t help it. You had taken as little time as possible once you arrived at your hotel room, throwing together an imperfect disguise. You had managed to successfully hide your pregnancy, a disposable face mask was hiding the lower half of your face. Suguru would recognize your eyes, you knew that, so even though the sun had long ago set, you slotted a pair of sunglasses over your face. Your hair was neatly tucked under a beanie, the hood on your sweatshirt being dragged overtop. You had to wonder if this appearance would raise any suspicions with him, but you had to assume he was used to people being ashamed of wanting to be “healed”. Either way, you prayed he wouldn’t question it.

Your weight shifted from foot to foot, eyes peering up at the looming and honestly overwhelming building that made up the temple. You had a handful of steps you would need to climb to reach the entrance, which had been part of your desire to get here as soon as you could manage. Climbing up stairs had become your mortal enemy at this point, one flight in and you were wheezing for air. “Bear with me, little one.” You let your hand smooth over your stomach one last time before starting your torturous climb. Each step was shaky, your breath warm on your face as the mask shielded you from the cool air. Still, labored breathing was enough to have faint puffs of your breath turning visible in the air.

The added layers weren’t helping your cause, either. But you would manage, all because Suguru was just beyond the walls of the temple that loomed before you. For months you had to live with the fact that he was alive and well within miles of you. Just out of your reach, leaving you to pick up the shattered pieces of the life you had so carefully tried to build. You had been angry, sad, depressed and disappointed. You had gone through every stage of grief and then some. But right now, as you ascended these steps, it suddenly didn’t seem to matter anymore. How foolish you could become when blinded by such devoted love. “Are you here to meet with Master Geto?”

You glanced up at the sound of a woman’s voice, recognizing it from when you spoke on the phone a dew days prior. “I-I am.” you huffed out, finally reaching the top of the platform in which the temple rested upon. “You’re quite early, Mast Geto will appreciate this.” She smiled warmly at you but you could tell by the ugly crinkle in her smile lines that it was forced. “I’m glad.” You managed to squeeze out, trying to calm your racing heart as your baby’s kicks fluttered around your stomach. Always so active. You mused to yourself as the woman turned away from you. “He’ll likely be waiting already, he just finished with a client. You’re the last for the year. Quite the honor if I say so myself. You’re very lucky.” Very lucky, huh?

You didn’t have to bother hiding your amused smirk, the face mask providing you all the security you needed as she guided you towards the temple’s entrance. “I hope you don’t mind my appearance.” You started, testing the waters to see how poorly she thought of you based on one glance. “It’s alright, Master Geto understands some of the people that come to him are doing so against their family’s wishes. Anonymity is welcomed in his eyes.” You felt your brow twitch, humming out a “oh good” as the temple doors seemed to open on their own. “Before you meet with him privately, I do have a small handful of rules.” Rules? She took your silence as a go-ahead, holding her clipboard tightly to her chest as her hips swayed with each step.

“Master Geto asks you to wash your hands before meeting with him. He also requests that you do not touch him unless he reaches out to touch you. Granted the most the man will touch is your hands or shoulders. He will never venture any further.” You assumed that had to do with his newfound hatred for non-sorcerers, anything of the sort was likely considered filth to him. So how peculiar was it that he would go out of his way to heal them. If you could pick his brains apart, you would. You prayed wholeheartedly that you’d be given the chance. All those countless nights, sitting beside Satoru, trying to wrap your head around Suguru and his choices.

He owed you the deepest, most thought out and intricate explanation he could manage. You still couldn’t fathom why this was the answer to his jumbled thoughts. “You may use this sink to cleanse yourself.” You blinked, head turning to the stainless steel sink fitted right to the wall outside the doors that would lead to Suguru’s quarters. It was brand new, clearly installed within the temple’s construction only a few months prior. You exhaled slowly as you pushed up your sleeves, this was by no means the Suguru you remembered. But you couldn’t let your doubt drag you down yet, you still hadn’t seen him, spoken with him.

You set the water to cold, scrubbing your hands thoroughly with the soap provided. You swore you could still feel the clammy, dirty metal of the subway pole on your hands despite washing them when you got to the hotel. It only made you scrub harder, anxiety creeping into your neck as the crushing reality began to settle in. Within minutes… no within seconds really, you’d be seeing Suguru again for the first time in nearly five months. “You may use the towels to your right to dry your hands once you are done.” The woman chimed softly behind you, looking down at her clipboard so she could cross off your name – an alias you had given – the last on his list.

You felt a moment of hesitation as you reached up to turn off the water. As if the anticipation for this moment would feel more overwhelming than seeing him in person again. You found yourself fearing the disappointment that may come with this meeting. It took you a moment, but you pushed forward, grabbing the knob and turning the cold water off. “Alright, Miss.” You grabbed a towel, drying your hands thoroughly before dropping it in the bin beside the sink. “Alright.” You repeated, turning to face her, sight dimmed from the darkened corridor and the shading of your glasses. “If you’ll allow me to check in, Master Geto should be ready for you.”

Your heart had begun to hammer in your throat, over the roaring in your ears you uttered out a weak “Okay.” As she strolled past you and pushed through the large door, just enough to peak her head and upper half of her body in. A little muffled, but you heard her speak “Master Geto, your last client is here. Are you ready for her?”If he responded, you couldn’t hear it, your own heartbeat pulsing in your ears as she turned to smile at you.

“Master Geto is ready to see you, please, head in.”

Here went everything, everything you had thrown away had led to this very moment. You nodded, taking one step forward, then another, until somehow your legs managed to hold out on you and carry you into the large prayer room. The door shut behind you, nearly making your feet falter as you took in the expanse of the room. It was absurdly large, mats rolled up and leaning against the wall, you assumed it was for his worshipers. The room itself was lit primarily by candle light, yet it was still bright enough to make out everything before you.

A small flight of stairs led to a raised podium, an arm rest screwed into the ground to support Suguru as he lounged. “Welcome.” Your eyes landed on him, his fist pressed into the side of his cheek as he smiled at you. Behind him was a large altar, barren likely due to the temple being closed until the new year after tonight. “Please, dear, come up and sit before me.” His voice, smooth and melodic, just as it had always been. But this time around it carried a level of authority and hospitality that was foreign to you.

You swore stars were starting to spot your vision, so utterly overwhelmed by his presence that you had to force air into your lungs as you climbed more godforsaken steps. “Thank you for meeting with me, Master Geto.” You choked out, doing a horrible job of hiding your genuine emotions. “Of course, I couldn’t say no after hearing how urgent your needs were. Think of this as a Christmas gift from me to you.” He spoke softly, eyes roaming over your appearance. “So, please, do tell me of your problems. Something horrid seems to be ailing you.”

You knelt before him, praying it didn’t look awkward as your stomach nearly made it impossible to get into such a position inconspicuously. “I just… I’m not even sure what is ailing me.” You started softly, hand reaching up to adjust your absurd disguise. “I’m desperate, I figured if anyone could help me, it would be you…” For a moment you nearly uttered Suguru, your throat felt dry as you quietly finished “...Master Geto.” You stared at him through the lenses of your sunglasses, wondering how Satoru dealt with wearing the cursed things all the damn time.

As Suguru’s eyes roamed over you, studying you intently, you felt reality weighing on you once more. Suguru was right there, in front of you, less than two feet. It felt utterly surreal, maybe that's why you felt so disconnected from the moment. Two weeks of pure, agonizing grief over his departure only to be cut off by the realization that you were pregnant with his baby. Sure that didn’t fix your broken heart, at first it had even managed to make it worse. But it kept you busy, and has continued to keep you busy over the course of September, October, November, and now at the end of December. Yet it hadn’t been enough to bring you to your senses.

“You seem troubled, and I’m so sorry you’ve been having such a difficult time.” he uttered softly, straightening from his lounging position as he let his arm rest to support him instead of having his fist pressed to his cheek. Everything thus far had brought you right to this moment, right back into his arms… almost. You blinked, swallowing nothing at all and nearly choking. For a split second it felt like Suguru was talking directly to you, your Suguru. Not the Geto Suguru who was the new head of the old star vessel religious group. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, hands folded neatly on your lap despite having to strain to reach it.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Master Geto. Please, what are you going to do to aid me?” For a foolish moment, you wondered if maybe there was some invisible curse clinging to your back and weighing you down. “I will do the best I can to heal you, my dear.” You inhaled slowly, nodding as you spoke “Thank you, but may I ask how?” it had slipped past your lips before you could stop it, a genuine question you prayed wouldn't come across as offensive. After all, it’s how you lost Satoru’s trust. “Of course you may, it’s human nature to be curious, my dear.” He started softly, a grin on his face as he moved to sit up fully, no arm rest to keep him balanced.

“I could preach to you about how there is good and there is evil, how the strong prey on the weak and use it to their advantage. But that is common and dismal knowledge at this point, that is not what you are looking for either.” You nodded, eyes still soaking in every inch that made up the man before you. As much as the sunglasses were annoying you, you appreciate them for allowing you to so shamelessly admire your lover. “You’re tired, aren’t you? You feel as though you are being weighed down.” He questioned you softly, watching you nod as he found a small starting point for your ailments. “Did something happen to you recently?”

For a moment you swore you felt your heart stop beating in your chest. That question was far too loaded for you to answer, so you cleared your throat a bit, muttering a soft “yes” but not willing to go further. Suguru seemed to understand that, nodding softly. “You, by no means, need to explain yourself to me, my dear. I will do what I can to ease your burdens.” you watched his hands, noticing every little detail as they reached for you. “Are you alright with me taking your hands?” So soft you nearly missed it over the thundering of your heart.

“Y-you may.” Shakily, you stuck your own hands out, feeling a bit awkward at the clamminess of them. For the first time in months, Suguru’s skin was on yours again. It brought a wave of relief you thought you would never feel again. The warmth of his hands in your own, worn and calloused but somehow perfectly soft and cared for. They encompassed yours, his grip strong but not strong enough to hurt, mindful of you. Tears welled in your eyes, throat constricting in a way that you knew meant tears were going to flow freely before you could stop them.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you, Y/N.”

—

“Master Geto, there is a potential client on the line and she is very adamant about meeting with you on the 24th of December.” Suguru stopped reading over his paperwork, eyes glancing up at the secretary he had hired only a few weeks back. “That so?” he mused softly, tapping his pen against the polished oak of his desk. “I really didn’t want to take many people that day, considering Mimiko and Nanako…” he started with a hum, pondering it for a moment longer. “Did she say her name, her intentions, anything of interest?” He was far too tempted to flat out say no.

“She seemed very nervous, she’s said she's not been feeling very good recently and you’ve become her last resort. She can’t keep going on like this.” The secretary repeated your urgent, mildly-overdramatic words. “Sounds dire.” Suguru spoke softly, still mulling over his thoughts. For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to utter the words "tell her no.” Instead, after a brief pause “Let her know I’ll be able to meet with her on the 24th of December, 6pm.” The secretary nodded, moving to leave once more but stopping short as Suguru called her name. “She will be the last client for this year, please let any new potential clients know that I will not be able to meet with them until after the new year.”

She nodded quickly before departing, leaving Suguru alone again as he reached for the paperwork he set down. “What a kind heart you have, papa Geto.” Suguru hadn’t even been able to read the next sentence, laughing softly at Mimiko’s comment. The brunette girl was kicking her feet, coloring intently beside her sister on the plush rug Suguru had put in just for them. “It’s important to help people in need, you know. She seemed like she could really use it.” He smiled fondly at the two sisters, listening to Nanako hum softly as she scribbled onto the page.

“I guess you’re right.”

“You guess I’m right?”

Mimiko nodded, stopping her coloring to look up at Suguru behind his desk. “Yeah, I mean you really don’t need to help anyone. But you choose to do so even when you don’t have to. You have a kind heart, papa Geto.” The small girl repeated her initial statement, smiling softly as Suguru’s expression morphed into one of genuine surprise. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, watching her small head turn back to the paper she was drawing on, starting to hum along with the tune Nanako had set. Suguru sat there, wondering how a child could think of such things.

He saw himself as anything but kind-hearted at this point in his life. But still, he didn’t have the heart to say those things, especially not to a six year old. Suguru had barely reached for his paperwork again when your face crossed his mind, making him freeze once more. You had been a constant thought in his mind since the day he left. Not even an hour had gone by where you didn’t consume his thoughts, knocking the air from his lungs and paralyzing him for a moment. He missed you. Fuck he missed you terribly and it was enough to render him utterly immobile at points.

Slowly, he forced air back in his lungs, your smile leaving a permanent mark engraved in his mind. He didn’t regret anything he did up until this point, well maybe except for one particular thing. He didn’t take you with him the day he left. He knew he loved you too much to force you into this kind of life, he needed it to be a choice you made out of your own free will. Something cheesy about loving someone meant setting them free when the time came had crossed his mind when leaving you that letter. Leaving it on the bed he once called his own, so long as you were in it, it was his.

But still, the choice to leave it all up to your own free will did nothing to fill the void beside him each night. How desperately he wished you were laying beside him, curled perfectly into his embrace, face snuggled into the crook of his neck. Your natural musk mixing with your perfume, your hair tickling his hands as he held you tight, your chest rising and falling evenly as you slept. He ached to hold you again, finding it hard to fall asleep each night in your absence. But he had made this choice, he had to own it, even if that meant you weren’t a part of his life right now.

“But he knew, deep down, that it was only temporary; you'd come back to him.”

—

He had been right, of course. He just hadn’t expected it to come so soon, as if whatever forces in the universe heard his consistent, unwavering, silent prayer. The moment those doors opened, he knew it was you. From the moment you stepped foot in the prayer room, he could feel you. His soul would never not recognize you, no matter how hard you tried to disguise yourself. He had felt it then, that shaky, stuttering breath as you walked so cautiously into the room. It had taken every ounce of his willpower to not get up and go to you. Based on your appearance, it was clear that you didn’t want to be recognized by him.

“Welcome.” He started, praying you wouldn’t hear the tremor in his voice as his heart pounded erratically in his chest. “Please, dear, come up and sit before me.” Carefully, he trained his emotions into neutral ease, watching you shakily make your way towards him. It was you, fuck it was really you. For a moment Suguru was certain he would pass out from the intensity of your presence. How often had he dreamt of you, how often had he silently wondered what you were doing. How often had Nanako and Mimiko listened to him blabber about you with such fondness? Probably too many times to count, bless them.

Suguru watched you climb up the steps, your voice sending his heart into a death spiral. “Thank you for meeting with me, Master Geto.” There it was. The voice he had longed to hear for months now; your voice had always been so utterly hypnotic to him. “Of course, I couldn’t say no after hearing how urgent your needs were. Think of this as a Christmas gift from me to you.” He had to wonder if he was being transparent, it was impossible to hide the sparkle in his eyes as his whole world sat down before him. “So, please, do tell me of your problems. Something horrid seems to be ailing you.” His brow twitched as he looked you over, worry flooding his veins that you had been over exerting yourself in his absence.

He noticed you had struggled for a moment, leaving him to ponder further. Were you hurt? Had you gone on a mission recently and injured yourself? “I just… I’m not even sure what is ailing me.” Suguru’s heart ached at the sadness in your tone, you sounded so detached as you continued. “I’m desperate, I figured if anyone could help me, it would be you…” he noticed you hesitate for a moment, as if nearly choking on the wrong words before uttering out “Master Geto.” His family name sounded foreign coming from your mouth, a mouth he couldn't even see under the disposable face mask you adorned. There you were, kneeling before him after months of waiting, and he couldn’t even see your beautiful face.

Suguru looked you over, eyes soaking in every inch of you despite how covered you were. “You seem troubled, and I’m so sorry you’ve been having such a difficult time.” the words nearly got caught in his throat, coming out so soft that it nearly wasn’t audible. It was almost too genuine, for a brief moment he had forgotten, speaking to you as if nothing had changed at all. He had to wonder if you heard it. All thoughts died before they were even fully formed, the prolonged silence between you being shattered as you spoke “I appreciate the sentiment, Master Geto. Please, what are you going to do to aid me?” You sounded… defeated.

“I will do the best I can to heal you, my dear.”

But, he could tell you didn’t seem overly satisfied with that answer. “Thank you, but may I ask how?” he couldn’t help the way his lips quirked at your question. “Of course you may, it’s human nature to be curious, my dear.” his smirk turned into something softer, a genuine smile. You hadn’t changed a bit, your blunt curiosity still shining through. “I could preach to you about how there is good and there is evil, how the strong prey on the weak and use it to their advantage. But that is common and dismal knowledge at this point, that is not what you are looking for either.” He watched you nod, aching to know what was going on inside of your head.

“You’re tired, aren’t you? You feel as though you are being weighed down.” He watched you, brown eyes analyzing your every movement, his heart aching as you nodded. “Did something happen to you recently?” it slipped out, he didn’t want to seem like he was prying even though he was very well aware that the “something” that happened was none other than him. Still, nothing could have prepared him for the ache in his chest as you uttered out a soft, broken “yes.” The urge to soothe you had nearly caused him to lean forward; the need to pull you into a tight, crushing hug to try and soothe your sorrows was becoming too much.

You deserve none of the emotional turmoil he put you through.

“You, by no means, need to explain yourself to me, my dear. I will do what I can to ease your burdens.” he breathed out, not knowing how else to soothe you if he couldn't touch you in the ways he desired. So, he dared to ask “Are you alright with me taking your hands?” Suguru couldn’t breathe after asking it, the idea of touching you again after months of being apart was almost too much for him to handle. “Y-you may.” There, for a brief moment, was the Y/N he fell in love with a few years back, so outgoing but so shy the moment he tried to initiate anything. It made his heart clench, the feeling of nostalgia washing over him in waves as he reached forward.

Your hands were trembling as he took them in his own. For a moment, Suguru’s shoulders sagged. Your warm skin pressed to his was something he had missed so dearly. No words could describe the relief he felt, your hands wrapping so gingerly around him as his grip tightened. He was afraid you would pull away, being mindful to not squeeze you too tight. Suguru couldn’t quite believe it, every word he had practiced, every speech he had thought of for when this moment arrived. None of it mattered. Not a single word was able to claw its way out of the depths of his mind. Too overwhelmed by the fact that you were before him.

Before he could stop himself, before the moment became awkward from the long stretch of silence. Suguru uttered the only words that came to mind.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you, Y/N.”

—

You blinked, not that he could see it from behind the shades of your sunglasses. Still, you were stunned into silence. Your brain was struggling to catch up, processing the words Suguru had spoken two, three, four times before finally registering. “Wha–” was all you could manage, the syllables dragging out as Suguru chuckled softly. “I didn’t mean to unveil your secret before you were ready, Y/N. But no disguise you could wear would be able to conceal you from me. I’d know it was you every single time.” he swallowed, eyes shifting down to your clasped hands as if he was getting shy. “I’ve missed you so terribly… and I know I don’t have any right to say that because this is all my fault but... I’ve missed you.”

Still, you were speechless.

“Y/N… my sweet girl… Please say something.” Suguru wasn’t going to move until you responded to him, too afraid of overstepping your boundaries. Your mouth opened and closed again, swallowing the lump in your throat as you uttered out a soft “hi.” You couldn’t think of anything else, every thought in your mind was too jumbled to truly form a proper sentence. “Hi.” he repeated back to you, the same level of adoration in his tone that you’ve always known him to have towards you. “Can I take these off?” He was already letting go of one of your hands to reach for your sunglasses as you nodded. Your heart was erratic as his fingers ghosted your temple.

You felt it then, the tremor in his hands as he gently took the sun glasses off of you. For the first time in four months you were seeing Suguru without any barriers. “There you are.” He smiled, letting go of your other hand so he could gingerly pull the face mask off of you. You couldn’t contain it then, a smile making your lips twitch as your face was fully exposed again. “My beautiful girl.” Suguru breathed out, eyes memorizing every feature like they weren’t already burned into his memory. “My handsome boy.” your words nearly got caught in your throat, eyes watering as Suguru carefully took off your hood and revealed your hair. His smile matched yours, his lips quivering as he struggled to say anything in response.

So much to say, but you were both in silent awe of each other.

It dawned on you a second later that Suguru still had no idea you were carrying his baby.

“Suguru I…” you choked a bit, reaching to hold his hand again just as he reached for yours. “I’ve missed you too, terribly.” He watched you, brows creasing a bit as his face grew solemn. “It was never my intention to hurt you like this, Y/N.” For some reason, you couldn’t muster any of the anger you figured you would feel when seeing Suguru again. “I know it wasn’t” So soft it was barely audible but Suguru clung on to every word. “But it still happened, I still hurt you. I…” he swallowed, holding your hand a little tighter. “My only regret is not taking you with me the night I left. But I couldn’t do that to you, I couldn’t force you to run away with me after what I did. I don’t regret a single action I’ve made besides that.”

“I would have left with you, I hope you know that. Wherever you are is where I want to be.” And for a moment you swore you saw tears welling in Suguru’s eyes. “No amount of apologizing will make up for the hell I caused you.” he looked down at your clasped hands before meeting your eyes once more “But I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, if you’ll let me.” For a moment your heart ached so deeply it nearly scared you, your baby’s fluttering kicks reminded you of the hurtle you still needed to clear. “You don’t have to do that, Suguru. Keeping me by your side is all I could ever ask for… provide for me and…” You stopped, eyes closing for a moment as you breathed out a laugh. “Suguru.” He straightened at your tone change.

“Yes?” You could hear the concern lacing his words, as if you were suddenly going to say “forget it” and get up and go. Instead you steadied yourself “There is something very important you need to be aware of. It’s something I realized only two weeks after you left me and…” you didn’t like how bitter the words left me felt coming off your tongue. You had no reason to harbor any concern over the standing of your relationship, it was evident that neither of you considered yourself broken up from the other. “Go on, I’m listening.” He encouraged you, faced settling into a look of concern because he wasn’t sure where you were taking this. “Suguru, I wish I could have told you sooner.” You let go of his hands, smiling he held them a little tighter.

“I’m just standing up, Sugu.” You reassured him, heart fluttering as he gave you a sheepish smile. Suguru lets you go, watching you struggle to stand for only a second before leaping in to help you up. “Did you get hurt trying to come here?” he questioned, something so concerned and innocent that it almost made you laugh. He truly had no idea, you had to pat yourself on the back you supposed. Your disguise had worked out well enough in that sense. “No, no nothing like that, Sugu.” You smiled as you straightened, watching him take a tentative step backwards. “I really wish I could have told you sooner, but it’s better late than never.” Your fingers shook as you reached for the zipper of your oversized hoodie, dragging the cool metal down and shouldering the material off as your pregnant belly was revealed to Suguru’s eyes.

You watched his face morph from concern to shock. “I’m almost twenty five weeks along, Sugu.” You let the hoodie fall to the floor, leaving you in a long sleeve shirt that was clinging to the swell of your stomach. “You may have left, but you didn’t really leave me alone.” You pulled your eyes away from his face to look down at your bump, hands lovingly caressing it. “I don’t know their gender, I didn’t want to find out unless you were with me.” You didn’t mind his silence, you knew it was likely a very overwhelming piece of information to learn. Suguru didn’t have the ability to speak anymore, instead he opted to close the distance between the two of you. With hesitant curiosity, Suguru’s large warm hands came down to cup your stomach.

“You’re pregnant.” He uttered the obvious, as if trying to confirm he wasn’t dreaming. “You’re pregnant with my baby.” He said again, this time his tone was a little more possessive. You nodded, hands coming down to lay on top of where his hands sat. “Been carrying our baby this whole time, Sugu.” You heard him hum in acknowledgment, eyes full of wonder as your baby kicked. “They’re happy to finally hear their daddy’s voice.” You whispered, looking up at him through your lashes as he met your gaze. “I love you, with my whole being I love you.” you could hear it in his voice, nothing put pure love and adoration for you and your unborn child. “I’m so sorry you had to find out after I left…” He added softly, heart aching at the very thought.

“I had Satoru and Shoko… they didn’t really make up for you not being present, Suguru. But they tried their damn hardest and I’ll forever be grateful for that.” He nodded, thumb gingerly brushing the skin below his hand. “Do they know you’re here?” He questioned you, eyes falling back to your stomach. It was almost too surreal to believe. Not only were you in front of him again, but you were very pregnant with his baby. “I left them letters. They have no idea I’m gone and they likely won’t know for a few more hours. I don’t have any intentions of going back.” You let the words hang in the air, you were certain Suguru wouldn't expect you to turn around and leave once this night was through. That didn’t stop the butterflies swirling in your chest out of anxiety anyways. “I have no intention of letting you go.”

You couldn’t think in that moment, body pushing up on your tiptoes as if no time had passed at all. Your stomach hindered you a bit, pressing snuggly to Suguru’s front as your hands cupped his cheeks. Suguru caught on, of course, bending down and guiding you to him as your lips met in a soft kiss. You felt it then, the same tears burning your eyes as they shut tightly. Melting into Suguru’s lips felt like home, slowly piecing back the pieces he shattered to make you feel whole again. You could tell he wanted to deepen it, devour you whole in that moment so you’d never go. Instead, he pulled away with flushed cheeks that mirrored your own, pupils blown wide as he observed you. “I love you.” He repeated, looking at your lips as you replied back

“I love you too.”

Suguru kissed you again, cupping your face just as you cupped his, holding you in place and bending down further so you didn’t have to strain so hard to meet him. The tears you had tried to whole back were flowing freely at this point, mixing with the kiss as it turned slightly sloppy. It took you only a minute to pull away again, eyes wet as you gasped for air. “S-sorry the pregnancy hormones they—“ but Suguru hushed you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears as they fell. “You have nothing to apologize for, my sweet girl.” He kissed your forehead, pulling back as he guided you away from the edge of the platform and closer to the barren altar behind him. “There are not enough words in the universe for me to convey how sorry I am for everything I’ve put you through. I’ve said it already, but so long as I am alive, so long as you are willing, I will do everything in my power to make it up to you.”

“Keep me by your side, Suguru. That is all I ask of you.” You sniffled, tears flowing even faster as you restated your earlier request. Tenderly, Suguru brought your knuckles to his lips and kissed each one softly. “I will do more than that, my love. You will never have to work another day in your life, you will know nothing but love and comfort.” He promised as he flipped your hand over and placed a kiss on the center of your palm. “You, me, Nanako, Mimiko, our baby… our future babies.” He added with a small grin, causing you to laugh softly through your tears. “The five of us, and whoever else may join us in the future. I will keep you safe, happy, loved.” He promised as he kissed your wrist, feeling your pulse race under his lips.

You nodded, using your free hands to wipe your face as Suguru’s lips trailed further. You felt a shiver pass through your body as Suguru’s lips made their way up your arm. “I’ve missed you.” he repeated, tone huskier than before as he placed a kiss on your bicep. “So many nights alone…” he placed another kiss but this time it was on your shoulder. “I’ve been dreaming of you…” This time his head was dipping to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, inhaling the smell of you and groaning. “I missed you.” he murmured again, lips pressing to the pulse point in your neck as he let himself get wrapped in the scent of you. The scent he had missed so desperately. You felt it then, something you hadn’t felt in months. The bubbling heat pools in your gut, spreading throughout your body as Suguru’s tongue licks up your neck. Arousal.

“S-Suguru please…” Your hand found its way into his hair, holding him in place as both of his hands wrapped around your waist. “Please what?” he murmured, teeth scraping your neck as he moved his head up towards your jaw. “Please… make me yours again.” He groaned, so low you could feel it vibrate against your jaw as he kissed it slowly. There was a tremor in his hands as he held you tighter, pulling you closer until the swell of your stomach was pressing tightly to his. “You’ve always been mine, my beautiful girl.” He promised you as he moved to kiss your lips again, the kiss was gentle but sloppy, your fingers twitching as you buried them in the fine silks of his robes. You gave in, body melting into his familiar touch as you let his tongue slip past your lips letting him dominate it, just as you always had.

The feeling of his tongue sliding against your own drew whines from your lips, clinging on to Suguru just a little tighter as he began to guide you. The steps were awkward, drawing a breathy laugh from Suguru as he pulled away from you. “This will be a lot easier.” He assured you before bending down a bit to haul you up into his arms. You couldn’t help but squeal, surprised he was able to pick you up so easily even with the extra weight of your baby. “Suguru!” You cling to him, curious about his intentions as he moves to sit you on top of the bare altar. “Isn’t this a bit…” but he shook his head “don’t worry about it.” He placed you on top of the smooth wooden altar with a grin, making it so you were equal height now.

“It’s a special Christmas offering.”

He offered you as your brows were still creased in concern. “Suguru!” You squealed after, face feeling hot as his hands landed on your thighs, squeezing the flesh and making you shiver as his lips found yours yet again. “I’m taking my time with you.” He muttered between quick kisses, lips shiny with your saliva as your breath mingled. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.” You encouraged him, heart doing backflips at the idea of Suguru having his way with you again. You knew you missed him, of course you knew that, but sex hadn’t even been on your mind lately. Now, in this moment, you realized how badly you ached to be touched again, loved again.

Suguru left out a breathy moan, head falling forward for a moment before looking up to hold your gaze. “Have I mentioned just how badly I’ve missed you?” he teased, watching your lips quirk up as you tried to wiggle closer to him from where you sat on the altar. “I think you may have mentioned it once or twice so far…” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer since you weren’t getting anywhere fast. “But that's enough with the talking, Sugu.” You moved so your lips were ghosting his ear, whispering seductively “Show me how badly you missed me.” He shivered, only fueling your desire as you got a little more bold. “Show me how badly you missed my body.” Suguru’s knees nearly buckled, you were too good to be true.

Suguru took your request to heart, not wasting another moment by talking. His fingers easily found the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head with your assistance. He couldn't help it, taking a small step back just so he could admire how you looked with your stomach swollen, carrying his baby so prettily. You felt your heart beating, chest rising and falling just a little faster than usual as the anticipation in your gut built. The warm amber of his eyes seemed to be swallowed whole by his dilated pupils, throat feeling dry as his eyes trailed up to your breasts. “These swelled up, didn’t they?” He asked in a teasing tone, mouth watering at the sight of your engorged breasts spilling over the top of your bra. “S-suguru.”

“Well, they have, pretty girl. They’ll be full of milk soon enough, to nurture our little baby.” You couldn’t breathe, the overwhelming need for him to touch you nearly dizzying. “They’ve been so sore.” You offer quietly, looking at him through your lashes just to see his lips part. He seemed utterly entranced, warm hands sneaking around the back of you to find the clip of your bra. “Well, we can’t have that now, can we? Let me make them feel better, my love.” You nodded, feeling no shame or embarrassment as your bare breasts were exposed to his hungry gaze. Suguru had seen you naked so many times over the course of your relationship. Even with the rather extreme changes your body was going through, you still felt gorgeous when he looked at you the way he was now. “So pretty… they look so heavy… let me.” He breathed out carefully.

You could feel the air getting caught in your lungs as Suguru’s hands gingerly cupped both of your breasts. The noise you made couldn’t be helped, lips wobbling as you whimpered at the sensation. “Oh? Are they more sensitive?” Suguru teased you, shamelessly fondling your breasts just to see you squirm. You nodded, one hand gripping the edge of the altar to balance you while your other hand shot up to grab his wrist. “Please, Sugu, they're really sensitive.” You whined, heat throbbing between your legs as he moved to pinch your nipple. “Even more sensitive than before?” He murmured, eyes focused only on your face as he rolled one of your perked buds slowly. “Y-Yes!” your back arched, forcing your bump to press into Suguru. “That’s good to know, pretty girl.” He squeezed just a little harder, smirking as you cried out.

“So mean to me…” you wailed, as if nothing had changed at all. Suguru hushed you with a kiss, lips slotting against yours sloppily as he toyed with your breasts. You felt dizzy, completely intoxicated by the feeling of Suguru’s hands on you. You wanted him bad, needing to feel his skin rather than his robes. “Suguru…” you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as you uttered “Take your clothes off, please I don’t want to prolong this part.” He could take as much time with you as he wanted, but you were certain you would lose your mind if you didn’t see and feel his skin. “Whatever my lady wants, my lady gets.” He kissed you again before backing away. You sat on top of the altar, watching intently as Suguru undid the mildly-intricate layers to his robes.

“C’mere” you murmured as Suguru was left in nothing but a pair of flowing navy colored pants. The material matched the robes, hugging his waist tightly and accentuating how broad he was. You hadn’t forgotten how he looked, but the last time you saw Suguru in person, he had thinned. Now, he was broad, covered in muscles, tanned even in the winter. It was the Suguru you had known before the world had changed his views. He walked towards you, a sense of pride in his steps as he displayed his new physique to you. “My handsome boy.” You murmured again, hands making contact with his soft skin and feeling him release a shuddering breath in response.

Your touch never got old, every single time it felt like it was the first time you were laying your hands on him. You were mindful of where you put your hands, letting them dance across the plains of his chest before moving to his biceps. Suguru watched your hands move with baited breath, goosebumps erupting in their wake as your fingers moved lower. He couldn’t suppress the shiver that passed through him as your hands left his arms and moved to run along his sides. You were always so unpredictable with your actions, maybe that was why you were so elusive to just about everyone you met. Even when he thought he knew you like the back of his hand, you still managed to catch him by surprise. He could never get enough of it.

Your hands rested on his waist for a moment, leaning forward to the best of your abilities to place a chaste kiss on his chest. One kiss led to two, then three. Before he could even utter a word, you were littering his chest and neck in soft, sweet kisses. There was no hiding his arousal, even in the loose fitting pants of his daily attire, Suguru’s cock was straining heavily against his briefs. “Y/N…” it sounded awfully similar to a plea, making his cheeks flush pink at the sound. You looked up at him, placing one last kiss on his sternum before moving back. Your hands left his waist, but not before trailing all the way up his sides and slowly sneaking around his neck. “Suguru.” you finally stated once you were pleased with your actions.

“It’s my job to please you, you know. I don’t deserve any of this.” but you shook your head, hushing him softly. “Suguru, I love you with every fiber of my being. I have missed you for the nearly five months you have been away from me. I am going to shower you in the love I have been holding onto for all this time. Don’t you dare let your guilt taint the way you feel about me giving you my love.” You could tell he was struggling, after a moment of silence he nodded. It was a reluctant nod at that, but you knew it would take time for Suguru to overcome the weight of his guilt for leaving you in the first place. That was a battle for another day.

What mattered was this moment. “Kiss me, please.” His request was so gentle, you couldn’t say no to him if you wanted to. Arms still wrapped around his neck, you pulled him to you and crashed your lips together once more in a heated kiss. Your body seemed to thrum with desire, every nerve ending sparking with electricity as the anticipation of what was to come built. You craved him like you craved air, so much so that if you were ever to go without him again you were certain you would not survive. Suguru’s hands lost their heistance once more, dull nails dragging up your back and causing you to arch into him.

You couldn’t pull away, not when one of his hands found their home on the back of your neck. He kept you in place while his other hand snuck around from your back and found its way to your breasts once more. Your lips part easily, a cry ripping from your throat as Suguru’s fingers pinch one of your sensitive buds. He took the opportunity before him once more, tongue dancing around yours as he pulled and massaged the tender flesh of your swollen breasts. You squirmed on top of the altar, feeling your arousal clinging to your underwear as you moved. It only caused you to feel hotter, the deep rooted desire to feel him inside of you once more was becoming too much for you to bear in that moment.

Your legs spread to accommodate him better, scooting yourself forward so your covered sex was pressing to Suguru’s abdomen. He could feel the heat radiating through your bottoms, making his head spin with the desire to feel your cunt once more. “Fuck I missed you.” He nearly hissed as he pulled away from you with spit covered lips, swollen from where your teeth had been pulling at them. “Show me how bad.” You slurred, eyes lidded as you tried pulling him back to you. Suguru doesn’t hesitate anymore, letting you bend him to your whim. His lips find their home on yours once again, teeth and tongue clashing together as your hands wander his body.

Suguru’s teeth are sinking into your bottom lip, pulling at the pliant flesh and trying his hardest not to smirk as you whimper at the sting. His hands are mimicking your own, gliding over every ounce of bare skin he can reach, dull nails scraping until he feels you erupt in goosebumps. He pulls away again, leaving your head spinning from the constant changing contact. Before you can even open your mouth and complain, Suguru’s head is burying itself in your neck. He knew your weak points like the back of his hand, teeth scraping against the column of your neck before finding the perfect point to bite down. A shrill moan left your lips, no longer muffled by Suguru’s lips on your own. His canines were creating the perfect amount of pressure, sending your heart into a frenzy as if you were preparing for him to pierce your skin.

Suguru eased up a moment later, his hand slipping down between your bodies to press his fingers against your covered cunt. The sensation sends sparks of arousal through you, making your thighs twitch as he lapped greedily at the teeth indents he left behind. “Mine…” he gasped between licks “all mine.” Your mind blanked the moment his fingers found their way to your nipple again, twisting and pinching the sensitive bud until you felt tears burning your eyes. “Sugu, please!” You tried to jerk away, fingers threading in his silky locks as you tried to create some sort of relief for yourself. Everything was too sensitive, the ache forming so deeply within your body that you were certain you would lose your mind before he made you cum.

“Please what?” He rasped, sucking at your skin until it bruised. “Fuck me.” You begged, tears pricking your pretty eyes and driving him absolutely wild. “Fuck you?” Suguru smirked, tugging your nipple until those pretty eyes shed the tears you were holding back. “Fuck me… oh fuck please, Suguru.” Your tone turned whiny, higher than usual as desperation won over your pride. You’d get off this altar and beg him on your hands and knees if you had to. Even if it would be a bit of a struggle with your rather round stomach. “How am I supposed to say no to that?” he soothed you, hands abandoning your breasts to cup your cheeks. He kissed you again, this time it was softer, with the intent to take his time even if it killed you.

You felt drunk, chasing his lips even as he pulled away. Shakily, Suguru’s hands moved down your body, holding your hips as his head lowered to trail wet kisses down your neck. You caught on to his intentions as he moved lower, kissing your collarbone before moving to your chest. Suguru’s tongue ran along your sternum, pulling a whimper from you as he placed not one but two loving kisses on your sensitive breasts. “You’re so perfect.” He smiled up at you, lips hovering over the swell of your stomach. “Such a good mama already.” So gentle it nearly made you cry, that sadistic side of him fading quickly with the overwhelming desire to please you took over his original intentions. Months apart didn’t allow for him to tease you in the way he once did. Not now at least.

“So beautiful.” He added one last time before kissing your stomach. He showered your pregnant tummy in kisses, nose nuzzling you softly as your baby’s fluttering kicks reached him. You felt your face burning up as Suguru moved lower, as if he hadn’t been all over you for the last few years of your life. “I missed this cunt…” he mewled softly as he lowered to his knees before you. “Dreamt of it every time I got lonely…” he huffed out a laugh “which was very often.” His fingers were hooking into the waistband of your pants, eyes meeting yours as if to confirm one last time that this is what you wanted. You nodded, lips parted as quiet gasps shook you. “Take me, Suguru. I’m all yours, always have been.” His eyes fluttered closed, inhaling deeply to try and ground himself before he lost all self restraint he had. “Whatever you want, you’ll get.”

You lift yourself awkwardly, giving Suguru enough room to pull your pants and underwear off in one easy swoop. You grimaced slightly as your bare skin met the smooth wood of the altar, it still felt rather wrong, but now wasn’t really a time to be questioning your morals. Suguru was shameless as he admired what he had been missing so dearly, not even his wildest fantasies could compare to you. “Fuck.” So soft you barely heard it, but still enough to have your thighs twitching as you spread them further for him. Your hands met the smooth wood behind you, leaning back to get comfortable and push most of your weight on your hands and arms so Suguru could access you better. “May I?” His breath was hot on your inner thigh, nearly panting. “Of course you may, is that even a question, Suguru?”

“I guess it’s not, but I just want to make sure.” He didn’t give you a moment to respond, lips pressing to the plush of your inner thigh and sucking softly. You felt your lips tremble, eyes nearly tunneling as you focused on the top of his head over your baby bump. Suguru sucked bruises into your skin, inhaling your natural musk as he did so. One hand rested on your thigh, thumb brushing the skin beneath him tenderly as his other hand sank lower. Suguru groaned, vibrating your skin as his own hand brushed over his covered cock. Your heart was beating erratically, waiting not-so patiently for Suguru to do what he really wanted. Which was to devour you whole, but still, ever the patient man, he was taking his time. “Suguru…” you breathed out, hips moving forward just a bit to silently encourage him to cut the teasing.

He didn’t answer you, nose trailing along your inner thigh as he palmed himself through his pants. He was savoring every second of you being before him again, so much so that he couldn’t help but take his sweet time with this part. Though, his self control could only be stretched so far before he, too, couldn’t take it. Your hands nearly balled into fists as he retracted, a moment later his warm breath was fanning over your glistening cunt. “Thank you for this blessing.” He offered slowly, dragging each syllable out until you felt its message vibrating the base of your skull. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of torture, Suguru placed an open mouth kiss on your slick folds. One kiss led to two, three, four, then his tongue was slipping between and running along your slit. You moaned, loud and unashamed as Suguru collected your juices on his tongue.

One hand was still groping himself, alleviating some of the ache but not nearly enough to satisfy him. His other hand was now squeezing your thigh rather than gingerly rubbing it. He had missed your taste, fuck had he missed your taste over these months apart. Your arousal was sticky, its flavor unique and utterly addicting. He could do this for hours if it meant tasting every drop of your cum. Your head was falling back, your thighs no longer twitching and tense. Rather, they fell apart with no resistance, leaving your cunt completely at his mercy. Suguru’s tongue was still gliding up and down your slit, stopping at your clit every few passes to flick at it, feeling your muscles jump under his ministrations before moving down towards your entrance. This was just another game of him teasing you until you were making a mess atop the altar without even coming.

“Suguru…” you choked out, the arousal in your body thrumming with the need to be satisfied not tortured. Maybe he could hear that desperation in your tone, his nose bumping your pulsing clit as he pushed his tongue past your entrance. “Oh fuck.” You mewled, eyes nearly rolling back from the pure sensitivity. You hadn’t realized how reactive pregnancy would make you. Even the slightest of touches had your toes curling. It had always felt good, Suguru’s tongue had always managed to work unspeakable wonders on you. But now? It felt as if everything had been amplified, your lips trembling as the faintest signs of your impending orgasm began creeping up on you. Suguru was mindful of his position, using his nose to his advantage as he began to tongue fuck your cunt. “P-please… oh fuck…” your arms were feeling weak, causing you to adjust you your elbows in order to not fall flat.

Suguru’s tongue buried as deep as he could manage, using his nose to nuzzle your clit until your pants had turned to rapid gasps. If he wasn’t so preoccupied, he’d tease you for how sensitive you had become. It seemed every little action he made was causing your hips to jerk, a shrill cry leaving your pretty lips as he toyed with your cunt. Feeling you twitching beneath him, Suguru pulled his tongue away from your entrance to focus on your clit. His nose could only do so much, after all. You couldn’t take it, the dizzying feeling of Suguru’s lips wrapping around your aching clit and sucking so harshly your back arched. Pleasure shot straight through you, making your thighs tense as you clenched around nothing. He was going to make you cum in record time at this rate. That realization had you burning up, eyes squeezing shut as you tried not to scream his name for the whole temple to hear.

Though that didn’t really help you much, loud and unrestrainable cries left your lips amidst a jumble of pleas. Suguru’s name was intertwined into every profanity, begging him to let you cum. Suguru’s hand left your thigh, instead shooting up to dip two fingers between your drenched folds. You sucked him in greedily, your cries only turning shriller as he began roughly massaging your walls. Tears leaked down your cheeks in fat globs as you clenched around him, causing his fingers to stutter their pace in the process. Not that you noticed, your vision was already spotting with stars as your orgasm grew nearer. “S-Suguru fuck… I’m gonna cum… you��re gonna make me cum Sugu… please… fuck please let me.” You were drunk off of your own lust, eyes lidded as you pleaded with him in nearly incomprehensible babbles.

He responded by curling his fingers, digging into your walls just right. His tongue was still flicking over your clit, the varying sensations were making your head spin. “Sugu please…” You cried again, walls clamping around his digits so tightly he struggled to thrust them at all. He moved even faster, how that was possible you didn’t know, but stars were sparkling across your vision as you came hard. That didn’t cause him to slow down, actually it was quite the opposite. Suguru continued to fuck his fingers into you at a rapid pace, moaning wantonly as your slick squelches only turned louder in volume. Your orgasm had reached its peak but it wasn’t slowing, your wails turning into silent gasps as Suguru began to overstimulate you. It wasn’t until he finally pulled his lips away from your cunt that your body relaxed.

“Good girl… such a good girl.” Suguru murmured, eyes memorizing the sight of two of his fingers disappearing inside of your glistening cunt. You couldn’t form a coherent sentence if you wanted to at that moment, arms feeling shaky as you tried to keep yourself propped up. Suguru caught on after another few seconds, pushing up from his kneeling position to stand before you again. You watched him stick the two digits in his mouth, sucking them clean before speaking again. “Don’t tell me you’re already worn out, my love.” He smiled at you, chin and lips covered in your shiny cum. You shook your head slowly, despite clearly wanting to utter a weak “yes”. Suguru’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a sitting position so he could kiss you properly. You let him do as he pleased, just like you always did, letting his lips sloppily cover yours so you could taste your own release. After a minute, he pulled away with reddened cheeks.

“Fucking you… it…” he stuttered a bit, suddenly turning shy as he tried to figure out how to word his question. “It won’t harm the baby… will it?” You felt your eyes widen, lips twitching into a smile as you shook your head. “Sex while pregnant is actually very safe, Sugu.” You assured him, not at all ashamed in the research you had done on the matter only a few weeks back. “Positive? It won’t harm you or the baby?” He asked for your reassurance despite having his fingers buried in your cunt moments prior. Not that his fingers were anything in comparison to his cock. “I’m positive, no harm can be brought to me or the baby during the act… You’ll just have to be easier on me, Sugu… I’ve gotten a lot more sensitive.” You felt your cheeks heating up, regardless of everything you’d just gone through. “Alright…” he kissed you again, softer, before pulling away.

You watched him with lidded eyes, a ghost of a smile on your swollen lips as Suguru began undoing the waistband of his pants. You were focused on the way his veins seemed to jump out as he undid the buttons, the sight making your jaw clench. Inch by inch, tanned and toned skin was revealed to your hungry gaze. Suguru was trying to hide his excitement as his cock was freed from the confines of his pants. You whined at the sight, even your fantasies did nothing to compare to the real thing. For a moment you nearly groaned about how much you had missed him. You managed to hold it in, not willing to subject yourself to his endless teasing, at least not right now. Right now, what you wanted was “Please… you’re taking way too long, Suguru. I want you so bad…” You were repositioning yourself the way you had been when he went down on you, this time forcing your legs up to rest your feet on the edge of the altar.

A position that you typically didn’t have to think much about was now causing you some difficulty, but you could push that aside if it meant he’d move a little faster. Suguru stepped out of his bottoms and discarded them off to the side with the rest of your crumbled up clothes. “Old habits die hard, you know. I can’t help but draw things out, my pretty girl.” He closed the distance again, hands resting on your knees and unintentionally alleviating the pressure with his support. “I know, but I want you so bad… I want you inside of me, Sugu.” He was twitching, precum leaking steadily from his irritated looking tip. “Fuck… okay… okay…” one hand left your knee to wrap around the base of his neglected cock. Carefully, he gave himself a few harsh tugs, groaning as mild relief flooded his veins. You wanted to grumble about how you couldn’t see him over the swell of your stomach, especially since he knew how much you enjoyed watching him.

“May I?” Suguru asked, eyes meeting yours but you tilted your head. “Words, Sugu… I can’t exactly see down there right now…” You held in a giggle as his lips parted before closing again, rosy cheeks deepening as he realized his fatal mistake. “Oh.” laughter was laced with those two words, causing you to smile back. “May I use your cum as lube?” Suguru spoke slowly, smirking at you as your small smile turned into a look of surprise. “I-Oh… fuck.” You choked, the back of your hand pressing to your mouth for a moment before you squeaked out a “yeah.” Suguru moved a second later, guiding the dull head of his cock between your folds and spreading them. You breathed out, low and stuttering as his head passed over your still sensitive clit. He repeated the motions a few times, watching you jump as he’d get caught on your entrance before moving up again. Suguru only stopped once he couldn’t tell what was covering him more, his own pre-cum or your arousal.

His fist began dragging up his length, spreading it until he felt it was good enough for your comfort. “Lay back… if you can.” Suguru’s tone had turned soft, yet again giving you whiplash from the constantly revolving tones and emotions. You nodded, pushing yourself further up the wooden altar. You weren’t quite sure what Suguru had in mind at that moment, watching you get yourself situated so your whole body was on top of the platform. You leaned back, resting your body weight on your elbows but stopping when you felt your body begin to strain. “Kinda hurts…” you mumbled, cheeks feeling warm as you tried to find a comfortable position with your swollen belly. “I bet it’s too much pressure to be on your hands and knees, right?” His eyes had softened, admiring you with a small smile as he watched you nod. “Would it be easier if you had support under your back?” Your brows creased, contemplating for a moment before nodding.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try.” Again, you didn’t quite know how Suguru was going to go about helping you with that. But he was walking away from you, over to his discarded silk robes, and you felt your face burning up with the realization as he began to fold them. “These are soft, if I place them under your back it should offer you some comfort.” he grinned as he walked back towards you on the altar, the fine robes folded in a neat pile. “Sugu… what if we get them…” but he shook his head, helping you sit up again so he could place them behind you. “If they get dirty, they can be cleaned. I have a few backups of these, you know.” You shook your head, fighting off your laugh as he motioned for you to try and lay back again. “How is that?” Suguru watched you carefully as you tried to get comfortable. “If it doesn’t help, I can figure something else out.” You had to avert your gaze for a moment, eyes lingering on his leaking cock before meeting his eyes.

“I doubt you’ll be able to think straight for much longer, Suguru.”

His eyes widened, cheeks flushing red as he was rendered speechless by your comment. “This feels fine, Suguru. Just get up here with me.” You were leaning back on your elbows again, this time to watch him climb up on top of the altar with you, opposed for comfort purposes. “Show me how much you missed me, Sugu.” He couldn’t help himself any longer, moving to climb on top of you as you leaned back completely. It certainly wasn’t the most comfortable position or location you had been fucked in, but it would do. Especially when he was right there in front of you again. Nothing else mattered but him. “Fuck I love you.” he nearly choked as he pressed his lips to yours, hands bracing himself by flattening on either side of your head. Your legs fell open easily, allowing him to press up against you as you locked your ankles behind the small of his back. Your hands found their home on his biceps again, the warmth of your bodies pressing to one another was as dizzing as the kiss. “You good?” he rasped as he pulled back.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You assured him, knowing he was worried about putting any weight on you. “I’m a little sensitive but I’m not fragile, Sugu.” You would say anything at this point if it meant he’d get inside of you quicker. “Please just… tell me if something isn’t right.” You could feel his hips grinding up against you, cock sliding along your cunt but not going further. “I will… fuck I promise I will but Suguru please… I need you inside… so bad…” you whined, losing sense of your own rationality again as he teased you unknowingly. “Okay…okay…” desperation was lacing his own words, one hand moving down to wrap around his shaft and guide his cock to your entrance. “It’s been a while, I’ll try to go slow.” You grumble out some sort of response, too worked up to care as his head pushes between your folds. Suguru feels your breathing stutter as he slips in, your cunt stretching to accommodate him. It didn’t hurt, but you could feel the pressure ebbing its way down to your thighs, inhaling deeply as you tried to relax.

Suguru was focused, leaning back a little bit so he could watch himself disappear inside of you. “Almost half way, sweet girl.” you whined out an “okay”, eyes looking past him to the ceiling of the temple above you before moving back down to the top of his head. It felt like you needed to keep making sure this was real, that he was really in front of you, nevermind inside. Your walls were suctioning to him, clenching involuntarily as he finally bottomed out after what felt like an eternity. “There we go… oh fuck…” your face was contorted in pleasure, watching Suguru fall apart from simply entering you was more than you could handle. “Fuck I missed you… I almost forgot how good you feel… shit.” He couldn’t move yet, even though his hips were restless. Suguru was certain if he moved, he would cum then and there. He wasn’t even sure how he had managed to keep it together while entering you, cock twitching so harshly he was certain he would have blown his load half way in. “Suguru…”

His name was one of the few words you could remember at that point, the most your brain was willing to offer as it melted into a puddle of mush. “I’m right here.” he cooed, leaning down again to press his lips to yours once, twice, three times before showering the rest of your face in chaste reassuring kisses. “You’re doing so good for me, sweet girl. Taking me so well after so many months… you’re so perfect… so fucking perfect.” he breathed, forehead pressing against yours as his body contorted around the swell of your stomach. “Just tell me when I can move, okay?” he had gotten himself together somehow, now all he wanted was to hear you tell him it was okay. You nodded, inhaling deeply before uttering out “okay… you can move… just start slow.” Suguru let out a shuddering breath, kissing you one last time before he drew his hips back halfway.

Suguru had always relied on harsh, quick snaps of his hips for you, knowing you enjoyed things rather rough. The request to be easy, start slow, be gentle with you, it was a change of pace he hadn't been prepared for. You whined for him, finding pleasure even as he rolled his hips into you to try and find a pace that felt good for him. Your cunt hadn’t changed, still warm and tight, squeezing him to the point it was nearly hard to move. “A-are you okay?” breathless “You’re so tight… it’s not uncomfortable for you, right?” You nodded, face warming as you tried to find the right words. “I-i’m okay it feels really good… just… sensitive…” you moaned as he rolled a little deeper, brushing that one particular spot. You clenched, somehow growing even tighter and causing Suguru to groan loudly. “Y-you’re doing so good, Suguru…” His eyes opened, meeting your gaze to make sure you weren’t just saying it to appease him.

“I mean it.” you added, lips falling open as another breathy whine left you. Suguru’s hips continued to roll into you at an agonizing pace, sending shivers straight down your spine as molten pleasure settled in your gut. “Y-you can speed up when you’re ready too…” It was your not so subtle way of showing your impatience, earning a low chuckle from Suguru as he rolled his hips at a faster pace. Your whines only grew in pitch, words of encouragement falling from your lips as Suguru worked towards a pace where he’d be able to thrust into you without overwhelming you. “I missed this cunt so bad…” he choked out, eyes lidded and mouth hanging open partially as he let himself get lost in the embrace of your body. “So fucking soft…” he coudln’t get over it, the way your velvety soft walls clung to his cock with each movement.

It wasn’t until his hips began to snap into you, watching your breasts bounce with each connection of your hips that Suguru realized how close he was to coming.

“Oh fuck…” he choked, face heating up as his hips stuttered in their pace. “Is something wrong?” you nearly cried out, eyes welling from pleasure as you looked at him. “I-Shit.” he gasped, hips unable to stop their movement. “Gonna… fuck I’m gonna cum.” he got it out finally, head falling foreward because of embarrassment. He hadn’t had this issue since the first time you two slept together, back then it was from pure inexperience. Now, it was because he’d gone too long without you. “O-oh…” you gasped out, back arching near painfully as he passed over that one particular spongy spot again. “...s’okay if you cum…Sugu… I don’t mind… ha…” You were close again yourself, pregnancy causing you to become more sensitive than you thought possible. You couldn’t recall a time where you had cum without any other stimulation to pair with Suguru thrusting into you. “I-are you sure…” his head lifted, face completely red as he tried to concentrate on not making an absolute fool of himself.

“J-just because you come it doesn’t mean you have to pull out.” you added weakly, accidentally clenching around him and causing you both to moan in unison. ��G-give me your all, Suguru.” Your plea was enough to have him curling into you, head resting on your chest as his hips stuttered into your cunt. You couldn’t decipher what he was saying as he came, the words sounding like nothing more than mumbled nonsense. It was only when your own breathing settled that you realized what he was saying. “Thank you… thank you… thank you…” Over and over, quiet praises, thanking you again and again. Shakily your hand came up to run through his sweaty hair, your other hand resting on his bicep. “I’ve got you…” you added softly as you felt wet tears littering your chest. How odd it felt to see a grown man fall apart in every sense of the word. Suguru relaxed on top of the altar, slowly pulling himself back together as he looked at you. “I love you.” he uttered with pure adoration in his eyes.

“I love you too.” You whispered back, hand slipping from his hair to his cheek, cupping it. “You’re so pretty, Sugu.” you smiled as his eyes closed again, nuzzling into your palm. “So are you… ya know.” he cleared his throat a bit, hips still buried deep. “I’m…” he laughed a bit. “I’m still hard.” You laughed with him, a bit worn out already “I know, I can feel it.” Your hips wiggled, Suguru watched as your face contorted in pleasure as you pushed him further into that one particular spot that had you seeing stars. “You still need to come, pretty girl.” he was regaining his composure with each passing second. “You’ve already made me come once.” But you knew he was having none of that, five months apart did not equate to one orgasm. “We both need to get off still.” he corrected, watching that pretty smile take over your features as your hands moved to wrap around his neck. “Alright, if you still have the energy…” You teased him softly, pulling him closer to ghost your lips across one another. “Make me yours, again and again.”

“Always.” he kissed you, softer than any kiss you had shared that night. Slowly he found his rhythm for a second time, hips drawing back and forth into your spent cunt. Everything was hotter, wetter, thanks to Suguru’s release. Every moan was swallowed by his lips, tongues dancing around each other as Suguru’s hand slipped down between your bodies. Even with your pregnant stomach, even with the position you were in, he still managed to sneak his fingers down to your clit, rubbing it harshly until you were nearly yelling. Your body reacted to every touch, your orgasm building again, this time much faster than before. “Oh-oh fuck…” you were babbling again, fingers clawing at Suguru’s arms as your cunt clenched tightly around him. Saliva was smeared across your swollen lips, Suguru broke the kiss just to hear your noises properly. “Come for me… fuck I know you’re close… come for me…” Suguru pleaded with you, hips growing sloppy again from his own sensitivity. You let out another loud cry of his name before spilling all over him, cunt clenching tightly as a warm gush of your own arousal dripped down to the altar below you. That was enough for Suguru, a string of curses flooding his mouth.

Still sensitive from his first orgasm, Suguru seemed to feed off the aftershocks by spilling into you a second time. You both laid there for a moment, panting heavily in the large, echoing chambers that surrounded you. “Merry Christmas.” You offered weakly, a hint of laughter coating your words as Suguru’s head fell to your chest with a breathless laugh. “Best christmas gifts I could have ever received, ya know.” He looked up at you, cheeks still a bit flushed as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I know it’s still a lot to process… but you’ve got a home with me if you’re willing to take it… I know I said I wouldn’t let you go but…” Still hesitant, you smiled softly at him, hand cupping his sweat cheek as you soothed his worries. “My home is with you, Suguru. From now on, where you go, I go.” Suguru’s shoulders visibly sagged in relief, leaning down to kiss your forehead for a second time with his eyes closed.

“Let’s get cleaned up and go home then, my sweet girl.”

Despite everything, you found yourself praying once more that this wasn’t just a dream. “Yeah, let’s go home.” You smiled as his eyes opened, watching him straighten and kneel before you. You felt him slip out, making you both groan before his hands were reaching to help you up. “What a mess…” you were quiet as you looked down at the ruined altar top. “It needed to be replaced eventually.” Suguru reassured you, getting down off of the polished wood and assisting you to the best of his abilities. “Do you think you can walk?” you felt your brows creasing at his question, wondering if your legs would be able to support you and your baby if you were to get off of this altar. “I… guess we’ll find out.” But Suguru’s arms were on you in a second, supporting you almost entirely as he helped you get down to the floor. You had to admit your legs did feel jello, shaky and weak as you tried to stand without support. “That won’t do.” Suguru chided, more so mad at himself for not taking it easy on his pregnant girlfriend.

“It’s okay, just help me get dressed so we can get out of here… I need a shower.” Suguru’s release was starting to drip down your thighs, warming your face as older memories entered your mind. “Yes ma’am.” He grabbed your things one at a time, helping you get your bra on, then your shirt. Next he got his own robes on so he could leave the room to get you a washcloth for the mess he made between your thighs. He returned a minute later with a warm, wet cloth in one hand and a fresh dry one in the other. “My stuff is at a hotel, Suguru. We’ll need to get it before heading home.” While you could survive on Suguru’s clothes for a day or two, you desperately craved the silky maternity pajamas you had bought yourself a while back. “Alright, I’ll have the driver called to pick us up. He’ll bring us to that hotel and I’ll retrieve your things. Then we’ll head home. Nanako and Mimiko are going to be so ecstatic to meet you, sweet girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought, the two little girls Suguru had taken in would be waiting for their honorary father to return home. But what about you? “Are you sure? They know I exist?” you questioned as you spread your legs, letting Suguru gingerly clean up the remnants of his release and your own. “I’ve told them all about you, they refer to you as Mama Y/N.” Mama. You blinked, maybe it was the pregnancy hormones making you sensitive, but that brought tears to your eyes. Suguru had never once spoken badly of you in your time apart, going as far as to speak about you so lovingly to these two little girls that they referred to you as mama without even meeting you. There was still so much that needed to be sorted out, so many emotions to pick apart, but for now it was christmas eve. Those things could wait for a day or two, for now all you needed to focus on was you, Suguru, and your baby growing within you.

December 24th, 2007 [Somewhere around 6:30pm]

“Cheer up, Satoru. It’s christmas eve and you’re moping around.” Shoko pressed his arm, watching his unfocused eyes snap back into reality just to see her. “What?” She sighed, shaking her head as she moved to lean against the wall Satoru had planted himself against. “I feel bad that she isn’t here, too, Satoru. But she said she wasn’t feeling good…” But Satoru shook his head, pushing himself off the wall for the first time that evening. “She’s withdrawing from us, she has been for the last few weeks… ever since…” But he couldn’t say it, for some reason he found himself choking up trying to utter Suguru's name. “Ever since she saw him, I know.” Saying his name wasn’t exactly smart given the people in the room with them. “She’s just… she’s alone on Christmas Eve, Shoko. That’s not fair… we should be with her or she should be with us.” He began shifting from foot to foot, for the first time that night he felt antsy enough to get off the wall he glued himself to and move. “I agree, Satoru, but she doesn’t feel good…”

“I think she's full of shit, using it as an excuse.” he spat with more venom than necessary, not really directed at you but more so directed at himself. Shoko studied him for a moment, unsure of how to continue considering they were in a room full of close friends. Friends who all felt the absence of three particular people… Haibara, Suguru, and of course, you. It was a much quieter Christmas eve than previous years. So, reluctantly, Shoko pushed off the wall “Let’s get some air, Satoru. I think you could really use it.” Satoru met her gaze, lips parting before closing again and shoving his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Without a word, he unpeeled himself from the wall and trailed after Shoko. The two had barely stepped foot into the cold air before Satoru was seething again. “She’s distancing herself from us, Shoko, don’t you realize that?” Shoko was pulling a cigarette and lighter out of her pocket, bringing the cylinder to her lips as she mumbled out “Of course I recognize that, Satoru.” for a moment he bit his tongue, the urge to scream at her for her casual nature was making him feel weak to his own emotions.

“Then what do we do? We’re going to lose her if we don’t figure this out…” if he hasn’t already. Satoru couldn’t shake the pit in his stomach, the feeling that he had already lost you was weighing him down. He had let Suguru slip through his fingers, and now it seemed he was letting it happen all over again with you. “I have no idea, Satoru. I won’t lie, I’m not as close with her as you are… I mean you guys just seem to have a much deeper bond than friendship…” Shoko corrected when Satoru’s head whipped in her direction. She loved you dearly, and she knew that you loved her right back. But she would be an idiot to deny the fact that you and Satoru seemed to have a bond much deeper than friendship. “I don’t know what you mean–” Satoru choked, lips pressing into a thin line as he nervously pushed his glasses up again. “Don’t lie, Satoru. You know exactly what I mean.” But Satoru was not going to openly admit to his feelings for you right then. “You love her in a different way than me, Satoru. You have since our first year here.” But it seemed Shoko was more than willing to take the opportunity for him.

“Now isn’t the time…” but he could feel his voice trembling as he spoke, head turning away from her to glance across the courtyard. “Then when is it time, Satoru?” Again, something he didn’t have the answer for, something he probably would never have the answer for. “I…fuck I don’t know okay? But right now definitely isn’t the time.” He looked as if he wanted to jump out of his own skin, Shoko inhaled her smoke deeply before pulling the cig away and letting out in one breath. “Go to her, if you think that is what’s right. But don’t come back at me if she bites your head off for waking her.” Maybe Shoko had a little too much faith in your capabilities to remain strong. Satoru, on the other hand, felt like he was racing against a timer that may have already hit zero. “Alright.” Was all he could push out in that moment, feet moving before his mind could even process it. “But we do need to have this conversation at some point, Satoru!” Shoko called but he was already halfway across the courtyard. “Some Christmas Eve this is.” She huffed, watching the smoke slip past her lips again as she let her head fall back.

If she could, she would run to you right now and hold you close. But things had grown so complicated, for some reason she couldn’t find the strength to sit down and pull the information out of you. Deep down, even though she didn’t want to admit it, she knew it was only a matter of time before you disappeared just as Suguru had. She couldn’t say she blamed you, had she been in your shoes she would likely do the same. She knew how dear he was to you, how much love you held in your heart for him even after his deflection. Now you were carrying his child. Shoko could come to terms with the fact that her support and her presence was small in comparison to the support and love Suguru would shower on you and your unborn child. Satoru, however, could not swallow that pill and keep it down. He loved you, much more than a friend. Shoko has known that since your first year at Jujutsu Tech, as much as Satoru had been pining, Suguru had beat him to you… and inevitably won your heart. She knew it ate him alive to this very day.

—

Satoru couldn’t figure out why his hands were trembling as they gripped the railing. Every step he took, every step that carried him up towards your dorm floor had his legs threatening to crumble. He couldn’t shake the doom gripping at his heart, as if he somehow already knew that something was terribly wrong. Still, he pushed forward despite his heart threatening to break out of his ribcage and fling itself out the nearest window. It was quiet as he hit the landing, so quiet it felt empty, as if there was no human life inhabiting the floor. Satoru’s stomach was dropping with each step he took, forcing air into his lungs just to exhale slowly as he approached your dorm’s door. His hand raised, knuckles rapping against the door. “Y/N? You Awake?”

No answer.

Satoru’s hand wrapped around the cool metal of the doorknob before twisting and pushing it open. “Y/N?” he took a step inside, surprised to see your desk lamp on. It took Satoru another second to process that you weren’t present in the room. He blinked slowly, eyes traveling over a room that now felt foreign to him. Inch by inch, he noticed that things were missing. Your room feels emptier than usual, and not just because of your absence. “Shit.” He chokes, walking further into your dorm room to assure himself that he wasn’t imagining it. Usually, he’d never invade your space in such a way but Satoru found himself ripping your closet door open and cursing louder when he realized a majority of the hangers were empty.

He couldn’t see straight, not as he stumbled backwards and out of your room. Satoru’s legs carried him on autopilot, straight down the hall to Shoko’s empty dorm room. He pushed the door open, flicking on the lights and checking her bed to make sure you hadn’t snuck in to it. As expected, it was empty. The door slammed so hard it rattled the frame, but Satoru couldn’t even hear it, not over the roaring of blood in his ears as he stumbled down to his dorm room. He swung the door open so hard it hit the wall and ricocheted back at him, but he was already in the room and out of its path. His eyes were frantic, wide and unnerving as he looked at his empty bed… a note neatly sitting on his pillow, his name written in your scrawling font.

Bile burned Satoru’s throat, without even picking up the envelope he knew it was a goodbye.

The bile burning his throat wasn’t going back down, panic ebbed through his veins as he turned on his heels and stumbled into the bathroom. Satoru puked the little contents he had left in his stomach, tears blurring his vision as he tossed his glasses onto the tile floor. It wasn’t until he heaved a third time that his knees gave out on him, hitting the cold tile below him with a sickening thud. He couldn’t see through the tears, a mix of broken sobs and curses falling from his lips as saliva filled his mouth and his stomach squeezed painfully tight. For a minute he thought it would be impossible to pull air into his lungs, maybe the universe would grace him with blacking out. Maybe when he woke up he’d realize this was all a bad dream.

But the universe wasn’t that kind to Satoru, it probably never would be.

There, on the bathroom floor, the strongest sorcerer was reduced to a crying mess. All because of you, all because of his mistakes, all because of things he had let slip through his fingers. How childish could he be? To mess up so badly the first time that he failed Suguru. The eyes that were supposed to see everything had let his best friend fall with no one to catch him. Now, it was you, right before his very eyes he watched you slowly decay into a shell of your former self. But, again, he ignored the warning signs and you had slipped right through his grasp. He couldn’t process anything else in that moment, fingers gripping the sides of the toilet as he heaved again.

Satoru wasn’t sure how long he remained a crumpled heap on his bathroom floor, but eventually there was nothing else that could come out of him. In a daze, Satoru pulled himself off the ground, flushing the toilet’s contents, standing to grasp for the faucet’s knobs and pulling until cold water rushed from its opening. The cold water grounded him, forcing air into his too-tight lungs, one after another, until tears were flowing freely down his cheeks again. Was this a panic attack? Is that what it felt like? Like you were drowning on dry land? He wasn’t sure, but he knew he needed to read whatever you left behind in that envelope.

He needed to have some idea on why you did this, even if he knew why you did this. He turned the water off, silence ringing in his ears as he dried his shaking hands and stumbled into his too cold bedroom. Satoru wiped his eyes, over and over and over until the tears stopped long enough for him to see clearly. Grabbing the envelope, he sat himself down at his desk, letting the lamp’s golden glow illuminate the words he was too scared to read. He stared at it, blinking slowly as he looked over your handwriting. How did he let this happen, not once but twice? That anger from earlier was bubbling in his stomach again, threatening to reduce him to a scared child as he hurled anything left in his stomach. This time he swallowed it down.

The paper was cold in his hands as he ripped open your neatly put together work. Inside the envelope was one piece of paper. One piece of paper was all you needed to say goodbye. His heart clenched, lips forming into a scowl at the very thought. Maybe he had been a fool all this time, a fool to think he meant anything of significance to you. The urge to rip the single page nearly overtook him, not willing to let you explain yourself and just throw it away. You had thrown everything away, after all. What harm was him ripping up one, useless, pathetic letter?

He set it down before doing something that irrational, his mind going through a mix of emotions that he could only describe as grief. Mourning someone who wasn’t dead all over again.

Satoru stared at the letter, heart squeezing so tightly in his chest as he spotted water marks. Water stains where your tears had smudged the ink slightly. Every ounce of anger in his body seemed to vanish the moment he saw them, something so small that delivered such a big message. He inhaled deeply, trying to find some sort of sanity to cling to before picking up the page and reading everything you had written for him. It was you after all, no matter how upset he got, he’d never be able to do any of the things he had contemplated only seconds prior. Shakily, he picked it up, holding it at an angle where he could easily read its contents.

Satoru,

I don’t know where to start, so maybe it’s best if I don’t even try. If I were to sit here as I am now, writing down every single thing I ever wanted to say to you I’d run out of paper and time. So, although you deserve far better than this letter, I will try and keep it short and to the point.

You have done everything for me over these last five months, and there is nothing I can do that will ever amount to something worthy of returning the favor. I will forever be thankful for everything you have done for me. I would not have survived these last few months if it weren’t for you, Toru.

I don’t want you to blame yourself, because my choice is completely my own. There is nothing you could have done to change my mind. I think we both know that, whether you want to believe it or not. I can’t imagine the pain I’m causing you by doing this… I’m not going to ask for your forgiveness because truly I don’t deserve it and I don’t expect it.

I cannot go about my pregnancy without Suguru knowing. This is something that is meant to be precious to me, cherishing every minute of my baby growing inside of me… but I haven’t been able to enjoy it. My child deserves a happy mother and their father to be in their life. The only thing you are unable to provide for me, Satoru, is bringing Suguru back to our side.

I have no choice but to go, for the sake of myself and the sake of my baby, I need him to know.

This isn’t how I wanted things to happen, you know. I don’t think that needs to be said because of course I didn’t intend on getting pregnant and Suguru losing his mind. I didn’t intend on leaving you or Shoko. I didn’t think I’d ever have to say goodbye to you, Satoru. Nevermind having to say it through a shitty letter. God this is fucking stupid. You deserve so much more than a fucking letter.

Please, find your happiness, Satoru. I love you.

Your Y/N

Tears were burning his tired eyes, distorting your words as he tried to read it for a second time. Time seemed to stretch on forever in that one moment, leaving him to feel like a hollow shell of the person he once was. His heart was no longer within his chest, he was sure of it. Half of it had been taken by Suguru when he deflected. Now, the other half was long gone, tucked away in whatever belongings you had taken with you when you left. Nothing but a hole was left in its place, the broken halves of his heart were somewhere far away with the two people who meant more than anything to him. Maybe they’d do him a favor and stitch the halves together again.

~ END OF PART 2 ~

Thank you so much for reading, I hope I didn't hurt you too much. As always, likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are always welcomed and greatly appreciated... till we meet again in part 3 :) - May 🩵

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