#but the subject matter is a bit heavy
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untilyouremember · 1 year ago
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Sand Chronicles
Available digitally
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lyrebirdswrites · 1 month ago
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I actually made SUCH good progress on slaughterhouse chapter 6 tonight I wish I could talk about it (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) Every day it gets closer to being 100% done and now it really is a matter of two or three pages. The writer’s miracle has finally happened. The hyperfocus has kicked in and we are crossing that finish line guaranteed 💪😤
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lord-owlsnake · 4 months ago
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There are several things i wanna draw/write for the hurt/comfort of it all but im simply too chicken
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ultimatelyunassuming · 2 years ago
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I should make a ouran highschool host club au but with the carapacians. Itd be funny
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em-dashes · 2 years ago
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☆ You Are Now Entering Suddence ☆
Hello! I’m officially starting third draft edits on Suddence, my low sci-fi roadtrip novel, and I thought it’d be nice to give more excerpts from it as I go along!
I’ve gotten through the first few chapters so far (they’re very short chapters) and haven’t done anything more than line edits. There’s heavier work to come, I’m sure.
(As usual, there will be no taglist for this; I shrimply find it a little stressful. If you want to be notified, I’ll be tagging these updates with #Suddence Edit Updates and you can track that instead.)
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fvsm4x · 6 months ago
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𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 (you) !
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synopsis. Prince Satoru has just come of age, and it’s tradition in his kingdom for the crown prince to be presented with potential suitors. Despite his power and prestige, he’s lived a life of strict rules and sheltered isolation, knowing little about romance and even less about pleasure. His parents arrange for a tutor to guide him on how to properly fuck and pleasure a partner
+ warnings/content. Prince! Gojo S. + tutor fem! reader - satoru is a virgin and inexperienced - virginity lose - p in v - feral gojo a bit - royal au - gojo has a big dick - oral (fem. receiving) - fingering - size difference a bit - gojo is pussydrunk - shy/soft gojo
+ word count. 9.1k (Oppsie daisy)
a/n. This is prolly one of my favs works so I HOPE U LIKE IT
banner by unknown (tell me if u know from who it is!!)
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The doors to Prince Satoru’s chambers loomed before you, tall and intricately carved, a testament to the wealth and grandeur of the palace. Your fingers hovered just above the handle, and you took a steadying breath, reminding yourself of the role you were about to step into. The position was an unusual one, to say the least—both highly honored and slightly scandalous, whispered about only behind closed doors and far from the ears of the public.
When the queen had summoned you, you’d expected to be given a task of courtly refinement—perhaps tutoring Prince Satoru in diplomacy or etiquette, something befitting his status. But the court had other plans. Prince Satoru was soon to come of age, and despite his immense power and status, he had led a remarkably sheltered life. Royal duty dictated that he was to be groomed for the throne, but there was more to kingship than formalities and court rituals. To make matters more complicated, it was tradition that the crown prince be well-versed in… more intimate knowledge.
And so, here you were—his tutor for this secret, delicate subject. The court deemed it crucial that Satoru gain a proper understanding of how to navigate romantic and physical intimacy, skills thought essential to his future rule. And though this education would be handled with the utmost discretion, the weight of it wasn’t lost on you. This was about more than teaching the young prince; it was about shaping the experiences that would prepare him for life, even if it meant starting with things he’d never before dared to touch
One of the royal guards gave you a nod, signaling that the prince awaited inside, and with that final reassurance, you pushed open the heavy doors.
The room was grand, adorned with tapestries of deep blue and golds, velvet curtains framing the windows to keep prying eyes out. Soft candlelight bathed the chamber, casting warm, flickering shadows that seemed to make the room feel smaller, more intimate. And there, in the midst of it all, stood Prince Satoru.
He looked as regal as ever, his white hair falling around his shoulders in soft waves that caught the light, yet his expression was tense, the lines of his jaw just slightly taut as he took in your arrival. He stood tall, shoulders straight, but there was a nervous energy about him, a flicker of uncertainty in his piercing blue eyes. For all his power, he was, in this moment, simply a young man facing something entirely foreign.
He looked almost hesitant, his fingers curling at his sides as he took a few tentative steps forward.
“Are you… the tutor?” he asked, his voice soft but clear.
You bowed, folding your hands in front of you. “Yes, Your Highness. I’m honored to serve you.”
He returned your bow with a slight nod, his gaze hesitant but unwavering. “Thank you for coming,” he replied, his voice quiet and just a little rough around the edges. After a pause, he continued, “And please— call me satoru.”
You blinked at him before replying,“of course, Satoru.“
He continued,“I understand you’re here to… teach me certain things
There was a vulnerability to his words, as if he were admitting some private, embarrassing truth, and you felt a flicker of sympathy. “Yes,” you said softly, taking a step closer. “I’m here to help you learn at your own pace. We don’t have to rush anything. It’s perfectly normal to have questions, and we can take things one step at a time.”
He let out a breath, and a faint, almost sheepish smile flickered across his lips. “That’s… good to know,” he murmured. “To be honest, I’m not sure where to begin. I’ve read about some of it—romance, intimacy—but it always seemed… different in stories. Simpler. Or maybe more dramatic.” He paused, then quickly added, “But I have no practical experience. I don’t even know what’s expected of me.”
Was he really that inexperienced?
It was hard for you to believe. Prince Satoru was strikingly attractive, with an air of confidence that most people would expect from someone well-versed in such matters. Yet here he was, seeming genuinely lost. You’d have guessed he at least knew the basics—how to start, how to read a moment. But the way he looked at you, the way his questions hovered in the air with such uncertainty, made it clear that he truly knew next to nothing.
You nodded, taking in his words. “That’s perfectly alright,“
Satoru’s gaze flicked away, almost as if embarrassed by his own curiosity. “It’s strange. I’m supposed to lead a kingdom, yet I feel so… out of place when it comes to this.” His eyes returned to yours, vulnerable but resolute. “It feels almost… childish, not knowing these things.”
You smiled gently. “It’s not childish at all, satoru. You’ve been raised in a very particular way, with rules and responsibilities that few can understand. Besides, being inexperienced doesn’t make you any less capable.”
He studied you closely, his intense blue eyes absorbing your words, as if testing their weight before trusting them. There was a softening in his expression, a subtle shift from wary curiosity to a quiet resolve. “I think I understand,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But… where do I start? What do I need to know?”
Slowly, you stepped closer, letting him feel your presence before you closed the distance entirely. Your hand hovered in the air, close enough for him to notice, but not so close as to assume his permission. “May I?” you asked, your tone gentle but firm, a reassurance that he was in control of every moment.
He seemed caught off guard, his gaze briefly dropping to your hand before meeting your eyes again. There was a flicker of something—curiosity, perhaps a bit of nervous anticipation—but he nodded, his voice soft yet steady. “Of course.”
You reached forward, your fingers just grazing his hand, warm and slightly tense under your touch. Slowly, you guided his hand toward your waist, resting it there carefully. His fingers settled against you, his grip hesitant but steady. His hand was large, enveloping the curve of your waist, and the warmth of his skin seeped through the fabric, grounding both of you in this small, shared moment.
Satoru’s hand flexed, his fingers instinctively pressing into the soft give of your waist. His touch was cautious, like he was still testing the sensation, and you could feel him catch his breath. His eyes flickered down, watching his own hand as if seeing it in this position was almost surreal. Then his gaze lifted to yours, his expression a mix of awe and a little self-consciousness, like he was realizing just how new all of this felt to him.
For a moment, time seemed to still, the air thick with something unspoken. His fingers remained gently on your waist, his grip firm but careful. His eyes held yours, searching for something—maybe understanding, maybe comfort.
You felt the heat of his gaze as his eyes lingered on you, his expression searching, as if trying to find reassurance or perhaps permission. His attention felt heavy, intense, and you could feel your cheeks warming, a faint blush creeping over you. You forced yourself to brush it aside, focusing on him, on the quiet yet clear connection between you.
Drawing a breath, you leaned in, rising onto your toes until your face was just inches from his. Your eyes dropped to his lips, your gaze lingering there for just a second too long, and that seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. His eyes fluttered shut, and his fingers dug slightly into your waist, pulling you in closer with an unexpected urgency. Your breaths mingled in the narrow space between you before his lips met yours in a rush of movement.
The kiss was messy, uncoordinated, almost clumsy in its eagerness. His lips pressed hard against yours, his movements lacking the practiced finesse of experience but carrying a raw intensity that made up for it. He kissed you with an almost desperate enthusiasm, his lips parting messily against yours, the faint taste of his breath mingling with your own. There was a wetness to the kiss, his inexperience clear in the way he seemed to lose himself, following only instinct rather than skill. He kissed you with unabashed need, a little too much spit and an endearing awkwardness in the way his mouth moved against yours.
You could feel his inexperience, the way he struggled to find a rhythm, his lips and tongue a bit too eager, too messy. But there was a certain sweetness to it, a sincerity that made the kiss feel even more intimate. It was unrefined, almost childlike in its enthusiasm, yet it was deeply honest—a kiss from someone exploring a world he’d never known, trying to understand it one uncertain step at a time.
Slowly, you brought your hand up to his face, brushing your fingers along his jawline, gently guiding him to slow down. You felt his breathing hitch at the soft touch, and his lips stilled for a moment, eyes fluttering open to meet yours. His gaze held a mixture of surprise and something more vulnerable—a spark of uncertainty, as though he was asking if he was doing things right.
“You’re doing just fine,” you whispered, your words a gentle reassurance. You could see the tension ease from his expression, the smallest hint of relief softening his gaze. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and gave you a shy smile that felt so out of place on someone as commanding as him, yet so fitting in this moment.
With your guidance, he leaned in again, his movements now a bit more measured, a touch gentler. His lips met yours with newfound purpose, still a little messy, but now slower, as though savoring each second. This time, he lingered, allowing the kiss to unfold naturally, his lips brushing against yours with a sweet, unhurried warmth.
Your hands slid to rest on his shoulders, fingers tracing the lines of his frame, feeling the subtle tremor under his skin as he let himself fall into the moment. The kiss grew deeper, a quiet exploration, as though he were learning you, learning this intimacy he’d never experienced before. And in that moment, it felt like there was only the two of you—caught in this delicate exchange, each touch building a fragile new understanding.
After a long, breathless pause, he drew back, his expression softened yet still intense, eyes clouded with newfound desire. His lips, now slightly swollen from the kiss, parted as he looked at you, as if searching for something—permission, maybe, or reassurance. His hand remained at your waist, fingers tightening gently, grounding himself in the unfamiliar intimacy that had formed between you.
Without another word, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was harder, more confident than before, as though the hesitation had melted away. His hands slid down your waist, fingers tracing the shape of your body until they reached the back of your thighs. In one smooth movement, he lifted you, his strength evident as he held you firmly. A gasp escaped your lips, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms looping around his neck for support as he carried you with ease.
Your back met the cool, solid surface of the wall, and you felt a rush of heat at the sudden closeness, the way his body pressed against yours, anchoring you there. His hands, still beneath your thighs, slid upward slightly, fingers grazing the curve of your ass before giving it a small, tentative squeeze. The unexpected boldness of the touch sent a spark through you, and your breath hitched, a faint blush coloring your cheeks.
His lips found yours again, and he kissed you with a fervor that felt worlds away from the shyness he’d shown moments before. His mouth moved against yours with a raw intensity, devouring each kiss, leaving no space between you. You felt the heat radiating from him, the rhythm of his breaths growing heavier as he pressed himself closer, as though wanting to close any lingering distance between you.
The contrast was dizzying—just moments ago, he’d been so cautious, uncertain in every touch, every glance. And now here he was, holding you in his arms, his kisses almost desperate as if he’d found something he didn’t want to let go of. You clung to him, fingers tangling in his hair as you let yourself sink into the warmth of his embrace, the steady, grounding pressure of his hands keeping you anchored against him.
He kissed you with a fervor that left you breathless, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that seemed to grow with each passing second. His fingers tightened on your ass, his grip steady and possessive, pressing you more firmly against the wall as though he wanted to keep you there, close, unmovable. You could feel his heartbeat, fast and heavy, mirroring your own.
His mouth left yours only for a moment, his lips brushing along your jaw, trailing down to the curve of your neck. Each kiss was a mix of soft and hurried, as if he were savoring the taste of your skin but couldn’t quite hold back his growing desire. His breath was hot against your neck, and you felt a shiver run through you as his lips lingered there, taking his time to explore, to feel you.
The way he held you felt powerful yet tentative, as if he was discovering just what he could do, and it sent a thrill through you. You felt the tension in his hold, the slight tremble in his fingertips betraying a mix of nervous excitement and unrestrained want.
You whispered his name softly, and he stilled for a moment, lifting his head to look at you. His eyes, usually so confident and sharp, held a softness, a vulnerability that made your heart race. He seemed to study you, his gaze searching your face, as if he needed to see that you were still with him, still wanting this as much as he did.
“S’toru…” you murmured agaib, your voice barely a whisper, filled with all the unspoken reassurance and encouragement you could offer. He swallowed, his cheeks faintly flushed, and gave a small, hesitant smile, looking a little relieved, a little emboldened
With newfound determination, he pulled you closer, his lips capturing yours once more, this time slower, savoring the moment.
As Satoru’s kisses grew deeper and more assured, the intensity between you became undeniable, and you could feel his breathing growing heavier. His hands roamed along your thighs, fingers grazing over the fabric of your clothes, and each touch seemed to carry a little more heat, a little more urgency.
Then, suddenly, you felt it—a subtle but unmistakable pressure against your stomach. His hips had shifted closer in his fervor, and now you could feel him pressing against you, hard and undeniable. The realization made a shiver run through you, and you felt your own face flush, heart pounding at the sudden intimacy of it.
Satoru froze for a moment, as if only now aware of the way his body was reacting. His cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and he swallowed, his breath catching as he struggled to pull himself back, an awkward smile tugging at his lips.
“I… didn’t mean…” he stammered, clearly embarrassed, his gaze dropping as though he didn’t quite know how to handle his own reactions.
But before he could pull away, you brought a hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb gently along his skin, letting him know it was okay. “It’s alright,” you whispered, voice soft and reassuring. “Do what you please.“
He looked at you, relief mingling with something deeper, a flicker of excitement shining in his eyes. He leaned in, his lips meeting yours again, this time with a slower, more deliberate passion. As he deepened the kiss, his body pressed closer, and he stopped resisting the way his hips aligned with yours, letting himself feel the closeness without overthinking it.
Your hands slid over his shoulders, steadying yourself against him, feeling the strength in his frame as he held you, his body tense with barely restrained desire. The pressure against your stomach grew, a steady reminder of the effect you were having on him, and you could feel his hesitance melting away bit by bit. His kisses grew bolder, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, as though he didn’t want any distance left between you.
,S‘toru” you whispered against his lips, voice breathy and soft, and he drew in a shaky breath, his eyes heavy-lidded, as though he was barely keeping himself grounded. He was fighting to stay in control, to process the new sensations flooding through him, but he could hardly hold back.
“Feels s‘ good…” he murmured, his voice a low, shaky whisper. Slowly, his hips moved, pressing into you, creating a delicious friction as his hardness rubbed against you, even through the layers of clothing. The movement was tentative but grew more confident with each slow thrust, his breath hitching as he sank deeper into the feeling. His lips found the side of your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses there, letting his lips map the curve of your skin.
A quiet whimper escaped you, unintentional yet undeniable, and he froze, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes, still filled with that raw need, softened slightly, as if wanting to make sure he hadn’t gone too far. But when he heard the faint, breathy sound again as his lips brushed over the same spot, he seemed to realize just how much his touch affected you. A flicker of excitement flashed in his gaze, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to your neck again, this time more deliberately, letting his tongue graze the sensitive skin.
You whimpered again, the sound slipping from your lips before you could stop it, and you brought a hand to your mouth, instinctively trying to muffle the sound. But he reached up, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, pulling your hand away with a gentle yet firm hold. His gaze held an intensity that made your heart skip.
“Wanna hear ‘em… your moans,” he muttered, his voice low, the words dripping with newfound confidence. He leaned in, his lips trailing back to your neck, and this time, his tongue traced slow, heated lines against your skin, savoring the way you shivered beneath his touch.
Each kiss, each brush of his lips, became bolder, more purposeful, as though he was learning exactly how to make you feel every single touch. His hips continued to press against you in slow, unhurried movements, creating a rhythm that sent sparks through your entire body.
His fingers, which had gripped your Thighs with a firm intensity, began to trail upward, brushing against the fabric of your shirt. With his breath warm against your skin, he paused, looking up at you for a moment, his gaze filled with a mix of excitement and curiosity.
His hand moved to the top button of your shirt, fingers slightly trembling as he hesitated. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, searching for any hint of uncertainty. When you gave him a soft nod, a silent reassurance, his face softened, and with that, he began to slowly undo the buttons, one by one, his gaze never leaving yours as though anchoring himself in the trust you shared.
His breath caught as he reached the last button, letting your shirt slip from your shoulders to pool at your feet.
His gaze dropped, and his eyes widened, filled with awe as he took in the sight of you. His hands, initially tentative, began to trace gentle patterns along your shoulders and collarbone, his touch warm and reverent. He seemed captivated, almost in disbelief, as his fingertips trailed downward, lingering at the curve of your breasts.
Satoru swallowed hard, his cheeks flushed as he looked up at you, his gaze both shy and filled with wonder. “You’re… so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, as if he feared speaking too loudly might shatter the moment. With a hesitant hand, he reached out, his palm gently covering the soft curve of your breast, his touch both tender and careful, as though you were something precious.
Leaning in, his lips brushed softly against your skin just above your heart, leaving a trail of warm, reverent kisses as he explored with growing confidence. His hand, which had rested at the curve of your breast, wandered over the full softness, squeezing with a tentative pressure that sent warmth flooding through you. His thumb and forefinger found your nipple, giving a small, instinctive pinch.
The sharp pleasure made you gasp, a moan slipping from your lips, but you couldn’t help flinching at the unexpected intensity. “Not ser‘ hard… they’re sensitive,” you murmured, gently pulling his hand back. He froze, meeting your gaze with an apologetic expression, his face flushed even deeper.
“ sorry..” he whispered, genuine remorse in his voice, but the look in his eyes was also filled with curiosity and need. Without a second thought, he lowered his head, bringing himself level with your chest, and his lips brushed over your sensitive skin in a soft, almost reverent kiss.
Satoru’s lips wrapped around your nipple, his warm mouth enveloping the sensitive peak. He kissed it softly, savoring the taste of your skin, his tongue flicking out to tease you gently. The sensation sent electric currents racing through you, and you gasped, arching into him, encouraging him to continue.
As he continued to explore, he paused for a moment, pulling back slightly to look up at you with wide, earnest eyes. “I’m really sorry for being too rough,” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine remorse.
Then, as if his apology extended beyond you and into your body, he turned his attention back to your nipple, planting a soft kiss on it. “You just look s‘ perfect,” he added, the words barely escaping his lips.
He resumed his gentle kisses, trailing his mouth over the delicate skin around your breast, still mindful of your sensitivity. Each kiss was filled with a newfound tenderness, as if he was not only trying to please you but also to make amends. “Please forgive me,” he whispered against your skin, his breath warm, brushing over you like a gentle caress.
With each delicate kiss, he continued to express his reverence, kissing your nipple again softly as though it were a cherished treasure. “I promise to be better,” he vowed, his gaze intent, as if making a sacred promise to both you and your body. He lavished attention on your breast, his lips trailing kisses that were sweet and reverent, the gentle pressure of his mouth a stark contrast to the earlier clumsiness.
You couldn’t help but giggle softly at his earnestness, feeling a warmth spread through you, not just from his touch but from his sincerity. “You’re doing just fine, you‘re just learning afterall.” you reassured him, your voice breathy and filled with affection.
His eyes lit up at your encouragement, and he dove back in, his lips returning to your nipple, kissing it with a newfound tenderness, allowing the moment to envelop you both.
from your breast to your collarbone and back again, savoring each reaction he drew from you. The warmth of his mouth sent shivers down your spine, igniting a desire that only grew stronger.
But suddenly, he pulled back, his eyes shimmering with a mixture of excitement and determination. He gently wrapped his arms around you once ahain, lifting you with surprising strength.
He carried you effortlessly across the room, your heart racing as you held onto him, feeling the strength in his arms. The thrill of being so close to him, both physically and emotionally, sent a rush of warmth through you. As he approached the bed, he leaned down, carefully laying you onto the soft mattress, his gaze never leaving yours.
Once he set you down, he paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you stretched out before him. His heart raced in response to the intimacy of the moment, his breath hitching as he drank you in. “You’re really beautiful,” he whispered again, as if he couldn’t help but marvel at you.
Satoru leaned over you, propping himself up on his forearms, his gaze filled with a mix of admiration and longing. His fingers brushed through your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear, and he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours.
He pressed his lips against yours again, kissing you deeply as if trying to convey all the emotions swirling within him. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if memorizing every detail of you. You felt his weight resting against you, warm and safe, and it filled you with a sense of comfort and exhilaration.
As the kiss deepened, his hands wandered, fingers tracing along your sides and down your arms, drawing you into the warmth of the moment. He seemed to lose himself in you, his kisses growing more passionate, yet still tender, as if he were balancing the thrill of desire with a profound respect for the connection you were building together.
Satoru pulled back slightly, his breathing uneven, and looked down at you with an expression that held a perfect blend of desire and vulnerability. His eyes softened, and a flicker of concern appeared as he took in your face. “Are… are you okay?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with an almost shy uncertainty. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.
Your heart swelled at the thoughtfulness in his tone, and you nodded, feeling a warm sense of safety in his presence. “I’m fine,” you murmured softly, reaching up to brush a reassuring hand along his arm. “I should be asking you that.”
He nodded, his gaze briefly meeting yours before looking away, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “I’m… I’m okay,” he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper, almost as if he were still processing his own feelings. After a beat, he hesitated, then glanced back at you with a hint of nervous curiosity. “What should I do now?”
You sat up slightly, leaning forward so you could hold his gaze, though he quickly looked down, the blush deepening on his face. “Pull your clothes off,” you instructed softly, giving him a small, encouraging smile. “But leave your underwear on.”
Satoru’s eyes widened at your words, the blush spreading rapidly across his cheeks, almost as if he hadn’t quite expected the suggestion. “Yeah… okay,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of nerves and excitement as he reached for the hem of his shirt, hesitating only briefly before he began to lift it.
His hands trembled ever so slightly as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the toned lines of his chest and shoulders. His skin was warm, slightly flushed, and he kept his gaze averted, as if trying to gather the courage to keep going. He let the shirt fall to the floor, then took a deep breath before moving to undo his pants, casting a quick glance in your direction as if seeking reassurance.
When he saw your soft, encouraging expression, he continued, pushing his pants down and stepping out of them, leaving only his underwear as you’d requested. His movements were tentative, almost shy, but there was a certain determination in his actions that spoke of his trust in you.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, you watched Satoru, your heart pounding in sync with his as he settled in beside you. His eyes lingered on you, filled with curiosity and an unmistakable nervousness, though he gave you a shy smile when you met his gaze.
With a reassuring nod, you began to reach down, fingers slipping to the waistband of your pants. His eyes followed your movements, captivated, as you slowly slid the fabric down your hips, exposing the soft skin of your legs. You kicked the pants aside, leaving you in only your underwear, mirroring him. His breath hitched as his gaze roamed over you, the admiration in his eyes unmistakable.
Now both in only your most vulnerable layers, you shifted back on the bed, motioning for him to come closer. Satoru followed, his movements tentative but filled with a certain eagerness, as though he was soaking in every detail of the moment.
He settled between your legs, his body hovering above yours as he propped himself up on his hands. His eyes were wide, sincere, holding a quiet wonder that made your heart flutter. He seemed to lose himself in the moment, drinking in the sight of you with a softness that was almost reverent.
You reached up, placing a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat racing beneath your fingertips. His breaths were shallow, matching yours in rhythm, and a slight shiver ran through him at your touch. “Just take it slow,” you whispered, your voice soft, reassuring, as you leaned in close enough that your breaths mingled, faces only inches apart. “We don’t have to rush.”
He nodded, swallowing as his gaze remained locked with yours. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with gratitude and awe. Tentatively, he brought his hand to your waist, his fingers brushing over your skin with a gentleness that spoke of both caution and growing confidence. His touch was almost feather-light, his fingertips tracing small circles as though memorizing each curve and dip. You felt his hand tighten slightly, pulling you closer, grounding himself in the warmth of your body against his.
You leaned up, closing the space between you to press a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek, letting your lips linger there as you savored the warmth of his skin. Satoru’s eyes fluttered closed, and he exhaled a shaky breath, leaning into your touch, almost as if he were melting under your care.
When you pulled back just slightly, he turned his head to face you, his expression filled with an intense, tender gaze. His eyes flickered down to your lips, and for a brief moment, he hesitated, his lips parted as if caught between nervousness and longing. Finally, he leaned in, brushing his lips over yours in a kiss that was both tender and exploratory, filled with a sweetness that made your heart race. He kissed you slowly, savoring every second, as though he wanted to remember this moment forever.
His hands began to wander from your waist to your hips, his fingers tracing along the curve where your underwear sat against your skin. He paused, his fingertips grazing along the line of fabric, hesitating, as if seeking permission. You could feel his hand trembling slightly, both from his excitement and his nerves, his fingers brushing over the skin just above the waistband before moving back down.
Satoru’s gaze was locked on yours, his eyes a mixture of wonder and nervousness as his hands continued their tentative exploration along the edge of your underwear. He seemed to be gathering courage, his fingers tracing gentle, almost reverent patterns across your skin. Your own hand covered his, a soft reminder, and you murmured, “You can take them off, y’know…”
He paused, visibly swallowing, his blush deepening. “Yes… yes, I know,” he replied, voice barely a whisper as he gathered the courage to slide the fabric down your hips. He moved slowly, carefully, as if savoring every second. When your underwear finally slipped from your legs, he let it fall from the bed, his gaze turning back to you with a new, unguarded vulnerability.
When he looked down, his gaze dipped between your legs as you spread them slightly, giving him space to take in the sight of you. He was visibly struck by the intimacy of the moment, a hint of awe flickering in his eyes, and you could feel the weight of his gaze, making you equally self-conscious and drawn to his quiet, genuine curiosity.
This wasn’t something you’d ever imagined doing, especially not as a tutor. The queen’s request had surprised you, and even as you’d agreed to guide him, you’d never anticipated how intense and meaningful this moment would feel. But with Satoru, there was a warmth and care that put you at ease—a softness in him that made you want to help him learn, to give him this experience.
Satoru’s breath was uneven as he drew his hands up your thighs, the warmth of his touch making your skin tingle. His thumbs moved slowly, pulling your legs apart just a little more, his touch almost reverent as he brushed his thumb against the delicate skin of your inner thigh. The sensation made you shiver, a small gasp escaping you.
His gaze never left yours as he brought his hands to your center, his fingers trembling slightly as he parted your folds with his thumbs, exposing your most sensitive area to the cool air. You let out a quiet gasp at the sensation, your breath catching as he focused on the glistening sight before him, his eyes filled with awe. He seemed mesmerized, watching the way your body reacted, the soft, pulsing invitation of your skin against his touch.
For a moment, he simply watched,
Satoru’s fingers trembled slightly as he held you open, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and uncertainty. His gaze flickered to yours, a question forming on his lips. “I… I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do next,” he admitted softly, his cheeks flushed, looking for guidance as he tried to understand how to please you.
You reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his, your touch steadying him. “It’s okay,” you murmured, giving him a soft smile. “I can show you.”
He swallowed, nodding as he leaned in closer, visibly eager to learn. “Where should I start?” he asked, his voice low and sincere.
You held his gaze, feeling a sense of warmth at his openness. “See here?” you murmured, gently guiding his thumb to a small, sensitive spot at the apex of your folds. “This is the clit—it’s the most sensitive part, and it responds a lot to touch. You’ll want to start by focusing here.”
Satoru’s eyes lit with newfound understanding, his gaze turning to admiration as he looked down, processing your words carefully. His thumb brushed experimentally over the wet spot, his movements slow and cautious. You let out a soft, encouraging sigh, and he glanced up, his expression almost childlike in its intensity, clearly focused on learning how to make you feel good.
“So, you have to… prepare someone, right?” he asked, as if confirming his understanding. “Before anything else?”
You nodded, your voice soft. “Yes. You prepare a woman for… more,” you said, feeling a blush heat your cheeks. “Touching, kissing, and things like this—all of that helps get her ready, so it’s more comfortable. You have options, too. You could use your fingers, your mouth, or both… whatever feels natural for you.”
He seemed to absorb every word, nodding slowly, his brows furrowing with concentration. “I think I understand,” he murmured, his gaze flicking between your eyes and the sensitive spot he’d just discovered.
Satoru leaned in, his thumb brushing over your clit again, this time with more confidence, his movements gentle yet focused. You let out a soft sound, and he paused, eyes widening in wonder. He glanced up at you, a small, satisfied smile forming on his lips as he realized he’d done something right.
He leaned in, closer than before, pressing a slow, reverent kiss to your inner thigh, letting his lips linger, and you could feel the warmth of his breath as he explored with a gentle touch. You could tell he was savoring every new sensation, every slight shift and soft sigh. With each kiss, he grew bolder, moving closer to your core, his hands still steady on your thighs as he continued his careful approach.
Then, his lips brushed over your folds, his breath hitching as he pressed a lingering, almost worshipful kiss there. “So soft,” he murmured, sounding as if he were speaking more to himself than to you, awe evident in his voice. His mouth moved lower, placing another slow kiss before he began to taste you, his tongue moving hesitantly at first, as if familiarizing himself with each inch.
The first gentle stroke of his tongue made you gasp softly, and Satoru’s eyes flicked up, eager to see your reaction. Seeing the pleasure in your expression, he smiled, a slight, bashful grin, and leaned in further, letting his tongue explore with more confidence. The way he worked his mouth over you, savoring every taste, every sound you made, spoke to the intense curiosity and focus he was channeling into each motion.
“Fuck—” he whispered, his voice thick and slightly shaky, pulling back for a moment to catch his breath. His face was flushed, his pupils dilated as he looked at you with something close to worship. “Pussy’s s‘ sweet— tastes ser’ good,” he murmured, almost to himself, before diving back in with a new kind of hunger.
His tongue found your clit this time, pressing gently before giving it a soft, experimental bite that sent a shock of pleasure through you, making you arch into him. He continued, lapping at you with slow, broad strokes, as if he couldn’t get enough. His hands slid up, gripping your hips and pulling you even closer as he kissed and licked every inch, fully lost in the experience.
He seemed completely intoxicated by your taste, by the way your body responded to him. Each movement of his mouth became more confident, more eager, as he continued his relentless exploration, his tongue swirling around your clit before lapping at your entrance again, catching every bit of wetness as if it were precious. Satoru was utterly lost in you, pressing closer and moaning softly into your skin, entirely absorbed in the pleasure he was bringing you.
His hand slipped back to your thigh, gently squeezing as his mouth worked in perfect rhythm
Satoru’s grip on your thighs tightened as he became even more engrossed, his mouth moving over you with a hungry, eager rhythm. His eyes flickered up every so often, watching your reactions with an almost boyish awe as he learned exactly what made you gasp and arch into him. Each sound you made seemed to spur him on, fueling his growing confidence as his tongue moved with more purpose, more intent.
He let his tongue glide up from your entrance to your clit in slow, drawn-out strokes, savoring every taste, as though he couldn’t get enough. “Ser‘ good,” he murmured between breaths, his voice thick and heavy, almost reverent. “Can’t believe— fuck- how perfect ya taste.” His words were laced with genuine awe, and each syllable seemed to sink into you, heightening the warmth building deep in your core.
His lips wrapped around your clit then, and he sucked gently, sending waves of pleasure radiating through you. You gasped, fingers tangling in his soft hair, tugging him closer as your hips moved instinctively toward him, urging him deeper. Satoru moaned softly at the feeling of your hands in his hair, the vibrations of his voice against you only adding to the sensation.
“Just like that,” you whispered, your voice shaky as he continued, his enthusiasm and care blending into a perfect, overwhelming rhythm. He responded by doubling down, his lips pressing more firmly, his tongue flicking and circling, as if every movement were a way to learn how to make you feel even better.
As he continued, Satoru looked up at you again, his gaze dark with desire yet softened with admiration. “You taste like… everything I’ve ever wanted,” he mumbled against you, his voice muffled, but full of devotion. He leaned in once more, mouth covering you completely, tongue moving in long, slow strokes, savoring every drop and every reaction.
He became almost methodical, his mouth working in steady, purposeful motions, alternating between licking and gentle sucking, pulling quiet moans from your lips with every movement. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding you steady as he continued his eager exploration, his mouth mapping every inch of you, each touch bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
Finally, as his pace quickened and his movements became less restrained, you felt the growing heat build to a near breaking point. Your hips bucked against him, and he only gripped you tighter, pressing his mouth more firmly against you, tongue swirling and lips pressing as he pushed you right to the brink, lost in the need to give you everything he could.
Satoru’s eyes never left yours as he continued, his focus unwavering. Every gasp, every arch of your back seemed to spur him on, and as he watched you getting closer, a new determination filled his gaze. His hands slid up your inner thighs, his fingers brushing over your skin with a light touch before hesitating at your entrance. He glanced up, silently asking for permission, and at your encouraging nod, he took a deep breath, pressing a finger against your slick entrance.
Slowly, carefully, he pushed inside, his movements tentative as he watched your expression, making sure you were comfortable. His finger slid deeper, and he marveled at how warm and soft you felt, his gaze full of awe as he worked his finger gently, moving in time with the soft caresses of his mouth.
“Is… this okay?” he whispered, voice low and unsure, yet filled with genuine care. The gentle curve of his finger inside you was cautious, and when you let out a quiet moan in response, he seemed relieved, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“Yes, s‘toru,” you murmured, voice thick with desire, encouraging him to continue.
Emboldened, he began moving his finger slowly, curling it inside you as he searched for the spots that made you shiver. His mouth returned to your clit, tongue flicking in gentle, deliberate strokes, the combination of his movements creating a steady, delicious rhythm. Each motion was measured, his focus absolute as he seemed to get lost in the feel of you around him, the way your body responded to every touch.
As he gained confidence, he added another finger, stretching you just slightly, his gaze still attentive, looking for any hint of discomfort. But when he saw only pleasure in your expression, his movements grew a little bolder. His fingers curved and pressed deeper, brushing that sensitive spot within you, sending a wave of pleasure through your body that had you clinging to his shoulders.
“God, pussy‘s s‘… perfect,” he breathed against you, his tone filled with reverence, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real. His fingers pumped steadily, his mouth following their rhythm, drawing out soft moans that seemed to intoxicate him further.
Each gentle thrust of his fingers, each flick of his tongue was filled with growing intensity, a desire that seemed to drive him to bring you closer and closer to release. His face, now completely flushed, showed a newfound hunger as he became entirely engrossed in every moan
Your body tensed as Satoru’s fingers curled inside you, pressing perfectly against that sensitive spot, his mouth still worshipping your clit with a relentless rhythm. The pleasure built rapidly, each movement of his fingers and every flick of his tongue intensifying the sensation until it became overwhelming.
Your breath hitched, and you felt yourself teetering right on the edge. “Satoru… I’m close…” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. He looked up at you, his eyes darkening with both determination and awe, as if he couldn’t believe he was the one bringing you to this point. Encouraged, he kept going, maintaining that steady pace, his fingers pumping and curling with just the right pressure, his mouth warm and relentless against your clit.
Your body arched, and the pleasure surged through you in a powerful wave. A gasp escaped your lips, turning into a cry of pure ecstasy as you reached your climax, your body trembling under his touch. Satoru didn’t stop, his fingers and mouth working you through every second, letting you ride out the pleasure fully, his gaze fixed on you, captivated by every reaction.
He slowed only as he felt your body begin to relax, his fingers gradually easing their rhythm until they finally stilled. His lips pressed one last, tender kiss against your clit before he withdrew his hand. You watched, breathless, as he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean, savoring every taste as if he couldn’t get enough.
“Pussy’s so sweet,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, a mix of awe and raw need thickening his tone. His pupils were blown wide, his face covered in the remnants of your release, and he made no effort to hide his pleasure, licking his lips, his tongue tracing over the faint glisten left on his chin. “Want more…” he breathed, voice low and desperate, as if even this closeness wasn’t enough to satisfy the pull he felt toward you.
With a shuddering breath, he shifted, his hands moving to his briefs, and without hesitation, he slid them off, tossing them somewhere off the bed. He wrapped a hand around himself, giving a few slow, steady strokes, his own arousal now fully bared before you.
You couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped your lips as you took him in. He was big—thicker and longer than you’d expected, his arousal flushed with a deep, heated pink at the tip, beads of precum already forming and trailing down along the pale, veined length. The sight alone made you clench in anticipation, a mix of nerves and longing swirling within you.
Satoru looked down at you, his cheeks and chest flushed, the intensity in his eyes making him look almost dazed, drunk on the need coursing through him. “Can’t… can’t wait any longer—” he murmured, a slight tremor in his voice. He leaned closer, his tip brushing against your clit in a teasing tap, smearing his precum around your entrance.
“Please,” he whispered, almost as if pleading. “Please… let me… I need to feel you. Need to be inside…”
You felt his desperation in every word, his restraint fraying with every second that passed. His gaze held yours, dark and pleading, and you gave him a soft nod, granting him the permission he so earnestly sought.
“Please…” he whispered again, positioning himself carefully, his gaze never leaving yours, even as he slowly began to press forward, inch by aching inch.
A shiver ran through Satoru as he began to sink into you, every inch he pressed forward met with a quiet gasp or soft sigh that only seemed to make him more desperate. He moved slowly, his gaze fixed on your face as if wanting to memorize every reaction. The stretch was intense, his thickness filling you in a way that had you curling your fingers into the sheets, and he took his time, his movements careful and deliberate as he entered you.
“God—” he whispered, a tremor in his voice as he tried to keep his control, his brows knitting together in concentration. His hands found your hips, gripping firmly but gently, anchoring himself as he slid further. He exhaled shakily, and his breathing turned ragged, his lips parting as he lost himself in the feeling. “Feels so good…*hic* better than I imagined—” he murmured, almost to himself, as if he couldn’t believe he was actually inside you.
As soon as Satoru pressed fully inside you, he froze, his whole body tensing as if he’d been struck by lightning. The heat, the way your walls clung to him, warm and tight, had his eyes fluttering shut, his head falling back in pure, unfiltered bliss. A deep groan escaped his lips, raw and needy, and he gripped your hips so tightly you could feel the tremor in his fingers.
“Fuck—” he choked out, his voice thick, barely coherent, as he tried to process the overwhelming sensation. His head dropped forward, gaze dazed, his pupils blown wide as he looked at you, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was feeling. “So… s’ fucking tight,” he muttered, almost in disbelief, his words catching as his hips gave an involuntary thrust. “God—you’re… clenching around me so perfectly—”
You felt his fingers digging into your hips as he rocked into you again, the motion instinctive, almost primal. His restraint shattered in an instant, and he began moving with a newfound hunger, his hips snapping against yours with an intensity that had his head spinning. Each thrust made his eyes flutter, his lips parting as he gasped for breath, his mind barely able to focus on anything but the sensation of you wrapped around him
He buried himself deeper, his pace turning relentless, desperate. His lips found your neck, teeth grazing over your skin as he panted, “Feel so fucking good, can’t—can’t stop…fuck!” He sounded wrecked, completely undone, his tone almost pleading as he kept moving, his rhythm wild and unrestrained.
Satoru’s eyes rolled back as he lost himself in the feeling, the pleasure flooding through him too intense to control. “Pussy’s so *hic* warm,” he slurred, his words muffled as his lips brushed over your skin, his hips pressing into you harder, needier, every sound you made only pushing him further. Each thrust felt deeper than the last, his breaths ragged, desperate as he surrendered completely, letting the sensation consume him.
Satoru’s movements became a frenzy, his hips snapping against yours with a desperation that was almost uncontrollable, his breathing erratic and voice reduced to hoarse groans. Every inch of you enveloped him in a warmth so tight that his composure shattered with each thrust, his hands gripping you as if afraid to let go.
“Fuck—can’t… can’t get enough,” he mumbled, his voice rough, eyes half-lidded as he stared down at you with a dazed, almost feral hunger. His mouth found yours, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss, messy and demanding, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he kissed you deeply. He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath coming in heavy pants as he looked at you, captivated, overwhelmed.
Your moans and gasps only fueled him, every sound you made seeming to push him further over the edge. His hands roamed your body, fingers digging into your skin as he tried to pull you even closer, his thrusts rough but filled with raw need. “You feel… so fucking perfect,” he murmured, barely able to get the words out as his rhythm grew erratic, his hips moving instinctively as he chased the building pleasure that was consuming him.
Lost in the sensation, his pace faltered, his movements growing sloppier, more desperate. He pulled you tighter against him, his body shuddering with every thrust, his head falling to your shoulder as he let out a deep, broken groan, his voice strained and breathless.
“God… can’t… gonna come…soon” he whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of awe and helplessness as he felt himself teetering on the edge, holding on only by a thread as he lost himself completely in the warmth of you.
With each thrust, Satoru’s body trembled, his breath hitching as he felt himself nearing that precipice. The warmth enveloping him tightened further, the way your walls pulsed around him driving him wild. His movements grew more frantic, instinct taking over as he chased the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him.
“Please—please..” he gasped, desperation lacing his words as he quickened his pace, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the room. He was lost, intoxicated by the feeling of being inside you, and it was as if everything else faded away. The world outside ceased to exist; it was just the two of you, tangled together in a whirlwind of passion.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, the heat pooling in your core intensifying with every movement. “S’toru… yes—yesss just like that,” you encouraged, your voice breathy as you matched his rhythm, pushing him closer to the edge. Your words seemed to ignite something primal within him, and he let out a deep, guttural growl, thrusting into you with abandon.
“Fuck—so good… you’re so good,” he gasped, his eyes rolling back again as he felt the pleasure building rapidly, tension coiling tightly in his belly. Every sound you made, every gasp and moan, drove him closer to madness. He could feel the pressure mounting, an almost unbearable intensity that threatened to consume him completely.
“I can’t hold back much longer,” he warned, his voice low and strained, nearly a whine as he fought against the overwhelming need to release. “I want to feel you—want you to feel me…”
With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you completely, his body shaking as he let go, pleasure crashing over him like a tidal wave. “Oh—fuck!” he cried out, his voice echoing with a mix of ecstasy and disbelief as he came, filling you with warmth. His body quaked with the intensity of his release, and in that moment, everything faded into pure bliss, leaving only the two of you tangled together, breathing heavily in the aftermath
As the waves of pleasure began to fade, Satoru’s breath came in uneven gasps, his eyes still glazed with the aftereffects of the ecstasy he’d just experienced. He looked down at you, the warmth of your bodies still mingling, and a sudden thought struck him—a spark of wild desire that seemed to take over his senses.
“Marry me,” he blurted out, the words tumbling out with an urgency that surprised even him.
Your eyes widened, momentarily caught off guard. “Wha—what?” you stammered, disbelief flickering across your face.
“I know it’s crazy since we just met, but… you’re just—so amazing, and I don’t wanna let you go! That was—” he hesitated, a dreamy look crossing his face as he recalled the sensations. “Your pussy’s s‘ good. I can’t just… I can’t just walk away from this. I don‘t want anyone else now..”
You let out a soft laugh, a mixture of incredulity and amusement bubbling up inside you at his unfiltered honesty. What is happening? you thought, still trying to process the whirlwind of events that had brought you here. “You don’t even know my name!” you exclaimed, shaking your head in disbelief.
“I don’t need to know,” he replied, leaning closer, his eyes half-lidded with that intoxicating mix of lust and affection. “I just know you’re incredible. It’s like—like fate or something. I want you to be mine, like— forever.”
His words, though impulsive, were laced with sincerity, and you could see the way his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, even as excitement radiated from him. This is insane, you thought, but there’s something so genuine about him. “You’re serious?” you asked, searching his eyes for any trace of jest, but the sincerity in his gaze was unmistakable.
“Dead serious,” he confirmed, his expression earnest but still slightly dazed, the effects of what had just transpired clearly clouding his thoughts. “I don’t want to waste any time… so, uh, what do you say?” His voice wavered slightly, betraying his nervousness despite the confident facade he tried to maintain.
Could this really be happening? you thought, your heart racing at the idea of such an impulsive commitment. You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest at his unexpected proposal. “Alright, let’s see where this goes, Prince,” you replied teasingly, excitement bubbling beneath the surface. “But you better be ready for more than just this.”
“Y-yeah! Totally!” he stuttered, his enthusiasm shining through the haze of lust. “I’m all in. Just… just tell me your name, and I promise to be the best husband ever.”
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© fvsm4x : do not translate, plagiarise or steal my work.
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noredemptionhere · 28 days ago
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𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂 ⚝ 𝚆𝙸𝙵𝙴!𝚂𝙴𝚅𝙸𝙺𝙰 𝚇 𝙵𝙴𝙼!𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁
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warnings: some of these are a bit unsettling and darker than arcane’s usual tone. if that’s not your thing, scroll. no need to tell me sevika is a pookie wookie she wouldn’t hurt a fly—i promise i do not care.
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⚝| sevika has an uncanny patience when dressing you. sliding silk over your shoulders, fastening buttons, smoothing down fabric. but when she undresses you, it’s different. she never rips, never rushes, but the way she peels each layer off feels clinical, like she’s dissecting something precious.
⚝| sevika never corrects you when you’re wrong. but when someone else does, she just looks at them, quiet and unreadable, until they shift uncomfortably and drop the subject. later, in private, she murmurs the right answer against your skin like a prayer.
⚝| she never raises her voice at you, ever. but her silence cuts deeper than any shouted argument. when she’s upset, she just watches you, eyes heavy lidded and still, until your nerves unravel and you start apologizing before you even know what for.
⚝| sevika has a ritualistic way of loving you…every night, she brushes your hair in long, slow strokes, unraveling every tangle with near-reverence. it’s soothing, but you don’t realize it’s a form of control until you miss a night and she grips your wrist, jaw tightening, voice low “sit down. i’m not asking.”
⚝| sevika feeds you with her fingers, not utensils. no matter how messy, no matter how impractical. she never lets you take the food from her hands, only lets you open your mouth and accept. sometimes she waits too long, lets the food linger between her fingers, watching your lips part in hesitation before she finally presses it to your tongue.
⚝| sevika doesn’t like locked doors, not yours, not hers. you don’t even have a lock on your bedroom anymore; she removed it one day while you were out. didn’t say anything about it, didn’t acknowledge it. but when you ask, she just raises a brow. “what do you need a lock for?” and there’s something in her voice that makes you feel ridiculous for asking.
⚝| sevika keeps your old nightgowns, the ones that have worn too thin, the ones that smell too much like you. she never tells you why. you only find them later, folded neatly in the back of a drawer you don’t open often, tucked away like something sacred.
⚝| sevika is obsessed with your warmth.. but only when you’re sleeping. when you’re awake, she touches you gently, reverently. but when you sleep, when you can’t see her, she holds you differently. arms locked, face buried against your skin, inhaling deeply like she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she lets go. some nights, you wake up gasping, feeling like you were being suffocated, but she’s just there, still, unmoving, barely breathing.
⚝| sevika remembers everything you say in passing. weeks later, she hands you something you forgot you even mentioned wanting. she repeats things back to you, word for word, like a recording. sometimes, she tells you things you don’t remember saying at all. and she never lies. you know she never lies. so you believe her.
⚝| sevika has a way of making you feel small without making you feel weak. it’s in the way she stands close, in the way she speaks low, in the way her hands find your waist so easily. she makes you feel delicate, precious, something to be handled carefully. and you like it. you like it so much it scares you.
⚝| sevika hates hearing you apologize. it doesn’t matter what it’s for. every time the word slips past your lips, her jaw tightens, her fingers flex like she’s holding herself back from something. “don’t,” she says, firm, steady. but the next time, you still say it. and the next time, she doesn’t say anything at all, just looks at you for a long, long time before shaking her head.
⚝| sevika kisses you like she’s taking something. it’s never harsh, never forceful. just deep, lingering, like she’s breathing you in, keeping something for herself. and when she pulls away, you always feel a little.. lighter. like something small has been plucked from you, but you can’t tell what.
⚝| sevika doesn’t like when you smell different. if you use a new soap, a new perfume, she notices immediately. her fingers trail over your pulse, slow, deliberate. “this isn’t yours,” she murmurs, barely above a whisper. there’s no accusation in her voice, but something about it makes you feel guilty.
⚝| sevika picks out all your clothes.. not just your nightgowns, but everything. you never really noticed when it started. now, when you try to choose something yourself, you hesitate. your hands hover over the fabric, uncertain, like you’re waiting for her approval even when she isn’t there.
⚝| sevika wears glasses when she reads.. a rare sight, one you can never resist. the moment they rest on the bridge of her nose, you’re on her lap, draping yourself over her like a silken shawl. you press kisses along her cheekbone, her jaw, whispering saccharine nothings against her skin, drunk on the contrast of her sharpness and your softness. she exhales like she’s indulging you, like she’s letting you win.. but she never takes the glasses off. she keeps reading, one hand turning the page, the other resting heavy on your thigh.
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rhaeheartzsquirrelz · 4 months ago
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Late Night “Talks”
Sevika x Reader
Smut with a bit’a fluff.
Warnings: Sex: degradation, ass slapping/griping, strap-on, crying, fingering, streching out your hoo-haa, and biting. (r! receiving)
Summary: You wake up in the middle of the night to find Sevika grousing in her thoughts. Where would the night lead you? Cozied up with your girlfriend or being roughed up by her? (You already know where this shit’s going idek why i put a summary…)
A/N: I couldn’t find any fuckass photos for this fic. Pinterest ain’t freaky enough!!
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✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
With a dry swallow, you stirr in your sleep. Groggily waking up and looking around. Sevika wasn’t in bed, and it was midnight. Maybe a work emergency? Probably out late gambling again. Would she really ditch you for a card game? You still couldn’t help but wonder if she was alright. Great risk came with being Silco’s second, both you and your girlfriend knew that. She was probably cleaning up after Jinx? You thought. Maybe even doing whatever her scrawny boss told her to do; her boss who you, very much, hated.
Shifting to a sitting position, you reached for the cup on your nightstand. Empty. Groaning with frustration, you pushing off the bed, and go to grab a cool cup of water. Making your way towards the kitchen, you hear rustling in the living room. Curious yet scared, you take careful steps and peak towards the room. Thinking it was you about to get robbed, you were expecting a man. Maybe even multiple.
Then again, if you had gotten robbed, one scratch on you and Sevika would go crazy. You’re talkin’ search the entirety of Zaun and find the asshole(s) who even thought of touching you.
But, to your surprise, it was your girlfriend. Sitting on the couch, hands inbetween her spread legs, and body tense. “Sevi?” You called out, slowly approaching her. She was leaned heavily onto the couch, looking surprised to see you. “Fuck..” Mumbling under her breath, she turned her head to you. “Did I.. uh, wake you?” Her voice a grumble as she patted the empty space beside her. You accepted her invite and plopped down next to her. Thighs touching, she huffed softly before her prosthesis arm came around your hips. “No, no.. I woke up to get some water.” You answered.
Judging from her eyebags and the smell of alcohol, she was drained. It was twelve fourty-eight at night and Sevika hadn’t had a wink of sleep. “You look exhausted, let’s go to sleep?” Bringing a hand to her hair, your slim fingers ran through her dark locks in order to untangle any knots, even brush away her tension. She grunted into the touch, clearly trying her best not seem weak.
Sevika had grown to think affection was weakness, it was to her pathetic in a way. So, your job, as her girlfriend, was to show her it was okay to open up, to express even the tiniest bit of vulnerability.
“Was it work? Again?” You tilted your head to try to get a better look at her face. Lidded red eyes and furrowed brows, she was definitely not okay. “Nah, just..” A weary sigh left her lips, “you should go back to sleep.” Of course she’d kept a wall between you and her job. No matter what, she’d made it clear she wanted you no where near what she did for a living. To stay out of her profession life. “At least.. give me an answer?” Hands now in your lap, you fidget with the hem of your red pajama shorts. Feeling grey eyes on you, you know you’re about to get a no. About to be shot down with a change of subject.
“Jinx.” She said, leaning forward with her arms on her spread legs. “That’s all you’re gettin’..” At her response, you silently thanked her for being, at least, a bit truthful, it was better than nothing. Letting her answer hang for a second, you smile widely and try to brighten up the mood. “I knew it!” Shoving her arm with yours, she chuckled lowly before placing her heavy hand on your thigh. “Hm, ‘course you did, you little brat.” Her voice was full of fondness, a hint of exhaustion still lingered as her thumb traced the inside of your thigh.
“Y’know I don’t want you gettin’ involved with my shit, right?” She’d said that a million times, but this time it was.. a little more heartfelt. She was protecting you, and you knew that. “Yeah, I do. But I expect you to give me some sort of explanation, instead of shuting me out. Yeah?”
The first few months of dating were rough. Sure, intimacy was sky rocketing but not so much the trust part. Emotions were usually bottled up by Sevika, and fucking you was her way of getting them out. Horrible coping mechanism, you’d tell her. Your girlfriend was more protective than a guard dog, hovering over you and staring you down whenever the two of you would head out. As nice as it felt to feel owned, it was irritating having her get riled up over small-talk with a friendly stranger. But, thank to your understanding, you and Sevika had grown out of the bad habits.
“Yeah, yeah..” She muttered out, resting her back against the couch with a huff. “I try to.” With that, the room held a comfortable silence. For a few seconds, Sevika’s words hung for a moment too long before she gave your thigh a squeeze, coaxing out a response. “Better than nothing.” Is what she got, which she smiled and shook her head at. “Anyways..” Voice less still, “What’d this pretty little thing do today?” Thumbs grazing over your soft, delicate skin.
Masterbate? Why?
“Books and this lame ass TV.” You lied, smiling and trying to hide the truth. But, this had happened countless times and Sevika was used to it by now. Used to your.. horniess. Patting your thigh and inching closer to your core, she spread your legs. “And, you expect me to believe that?” Voice amused and sultry, she moved to wrap her prosthetic around your hip and pullled you onto her lap. Your chest against hers, she grabbed the back of your neck and drew you into a much needed kiss.
Tongue entering your mouth, running along your lips, and then dancing around your own tongue, Sevika was completely aware of what she was doing. As much as you tried to keep your noises to herself, the feel of her biting your bottom lip and gripping onto your ass was what made you unable to restrain yourself. Whining for more you arch into her and cup her heated face. It was hard to ignore the pulse of your pussy. It was yelling for contact.
Sevika whispered a soft, “I feel it.” With a chuckle inbetween the kiss. Obviously, it made you embarrassed. You didn’t expect your cunt to be so fuckin’ needy, especially after a small peck on the lips. Pulling away, your girlfriend slid her giant, flesh hand up your shorts and rested her fingertip against your clit. A squeak escaped your lips and you had already begun to feel yourself getting wet. “Shit’s got a pulse, Baby..” She teased out, a cocky smirk on her face as her prosthetic arm gripped onto your hip to keep you still. “I know..” You huff out, resting your sweaty palms on your girlfriend’s shoulders.
“Let’s fix that, give you the satisfaction you’re clearly needing.” With that, she moved your underwear to the side and immediately slid her finger in. Being wet, you were already lubed up and ready. She took advantage of that and added another one of her big fingers. It filled you up, like.. completely. One more and you’d be streched out like some whore. Even though Sevika would fuck you like one.
Moaning at the movement, you shift your hips to find a comfortable position. Legs spread more evenly, back arched, and head coming to land onto Sevika’s shoulder. “There y’go..” Words murmured into your ear, she began moving. Curling against your g-spot, she slid her fingers in an out.
God, you wish she’d use her strap.
“Be a good bitch and stay still.” You obediently kept your hips still even though they were begging to be shuddered, to be able to tremble. Each in and out had you moaning and filling the living room with your lewd noises. Sevika’s eyes stayed on your figure before her prosthetic arm shifted to grip your tits, twisting your bud with enough pressure to make you whimper. “Sevi, baby..” Voice shaky and barely audible, you couldn’t contain the lewd noise that interrupted your sentence. “Faster?.. please?” — Pleading, you were fucking pleading. Sevika gave you a scoff, smacking your ass with her prosthetic arm before sinking her teeth into the skin of your shoulder. “You dirty little thing.” Was all she said before fastening her pace, even placing a thumb on your clit to give you more than one sensation to deal with. Circular motions on your bud as her two fingers worked inside of you to release the pressure bubbling up.
Each rub, touch, was enough to send you over the edge. But you wanted it to last longer, considering you’d been waiting to be fucked the whole day. Even masterbating didn’t work, your fingers were too slow for your liking. No dirty words were being whispered into your ear, which made the experience boring. Not to mention the absence of your girlfriend’s groans and huffs.
“Y’like that, don’t you?” She groaned inbetween biting and marking your shoulder and neck. “You’re getting fucked harder than this, Princess.” And with that, Sevika gave you the final rub to get you shuddering and whimpering out with pleasure. Arms tightly wrapped around your girlfriend, you cried out. You were at your peak, letting go of the tension in your body and completely melting against your girlfriend. Fingers sliding out, she made sure to clean them off with her mouth. Tongue licking off your cum, Sevika gave your ass a squeeze before pulling you to wrap your legs around her waist. Carrying your weary body towards the bedroom, she made sure to grab her thick strap-on.
Tossing you onto the bed, she stripped you naked with agressive, yet careful tugs. “Let’s see if you last long with a cock up your cunt.” She’d grunt out, taking her time to undress and stare over your perfect figure. Every curve, dip, and turn left her breath to hitch. She, herself, began to undress. Pulling her clothes off her toned and muscular body. The sight had your pussy thirsting for her. Tightening on her strap, she pulled you by the calves and held them up to her shoulders. You were positioned on the edge of the bed, legs spread as you laid on your back with Sevika’s strap dug halfway into your entrance. Enjoying the sight of you, she gave out a smug little grin.
“You’re gorgeous, baby..” Adoration and lust in her husky voice, she tilted her head to bite into your trembling legs. “Wanna see you writhing for me.” With that confession, she thwacked her cock into your pussy and it felt like your body had went numb for a second.
Sevika’s strap was thick, much thicker than her two fingers; which you could barely handle. So, for her to shove something so large in your cunt was new and a little painful.
Whimpering, you bring your shaky hands to your forehead and rest them there, letting your girlfriend thrust deep and hard until the sting of the strech was gone. Sure, it took some time, but afterwards you couldn’t help but cry out in pleasure— literally. You were crying. With each blow, your body was quivering. With your head spinning and heart pounding, you were a mess. “There you go, just like that..” Sevika smiled out, enjoying seeing those tears on your disheveled face. “Cry like the slut you are.” Leaning down to kiss your forehead, she held onto your hips as her thrusts became increasingly deeper, more steady, and stronger. “Fuck.. I.. I’m close!..” Head tilted to the side, you watched as Sevika placed a pillow under your hips.
Immediately, you felt the tip of her strap hitting your weak spot and you immediately gasped. The position was new and you knew for a fact that Sevika had done her research. “Shit.. Vika.. I… it’s too good..” You’d breath out, “S’fuckin’ good..”
You had found your new favourite position.
Hands gripping the sheets, you stare at the visibility of Sevika’s strap in you. You could see the way it went in and out, giving your flesh a bump. “Like seein’ it?” Your girlfriend huffed out, slapping your thighs before fucking you faster. “Yeah..” You nod, your moaned out answer a plead. “You’re fuckin’ filty for this cock, aren’t ya’?” She said, turning your pussy into a sex-toy with how rough she was drilling into it. The pressure was building up, heat pooling in your stomach as your body prepared for the release.
With the few final hammers, you let out a cry as your orgasm hit. Hands covering your face before sevika smacked ‘em away, your hips writhing and shaking at the intensity of your release. She enjoyed every second of your reaction. Furrowed brows, mouth open, eyes shut, cheeks a light red, and voice raspy from straining moans.
Holy fuck, that was probably the best sex you’d ever had.
Sliding out her cum-drenched strap, Sevika pulled your folds apart to see how much she’d streched you out. Your hole was ruined, completely owned by your girlfriend. Just as she liked it.
Body weary and sore, you gasped for air. Yeah, that was the definitely the last round. Head clouded and dizzy, you reach for your girlfriend as she pulled you against her chest with her prosthesis arm. The cool metal making your heated skin stand up with goosebumps. Grabbing a few extra-soft tissues, she wiped you clean. Shaking, you nuzzle into your girlfriend’s neck and breathed in that metallic, sweet smell of hers. You would always crave her smell when she was at work, even spraying some of her old cologne around the apartment to help with the loneliness. Eyes fluttering closed as you let your girlfriend clean you up, she rubbed your back with her flesh hand. Then, Sevika’s thick lips pressed loving and proud kisses on your shoulder and neck. Specifying going over the love-bites she’d left behind from earlier.
Your girlfriend was always good with aftercare, especially after ripping your pussy open, she knew you needed some time to cool down. Relax and regain your energy.
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endearng · 5 months ago
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Tie
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Pairing: switch!Spencer Reid x sub!fem!reader Summary: Spencer gets unreasonably jealous of you. You let him take control to comfort and reassure him. That's what loving girlfriends do. WC: 3.6k Warnings: smut - oral (f receiving), edging, overstimulation, kinda softdom!Spencer, reader is compliant to everything he says, he's just as desperate as her, sir kink, creamp1e (i long for a better word), bondage, unprotected pinv, dirty talk (they yap), pet names, pussy slapping. Jealous Spencer deserves a warning of its own. Minors, please, do not interact. A/N: I have no excuse for myself (I'm ovulating). This is pure filth and indulgent because I was being tortured with thoughts of Spencer.
Feedbacks are always welcomed and appreciated <3 Masterlist
Subtle touches from Spencer all night had you going crazy. Well, they weren’t exactly that subtle.
During a particular conversation you were having with Rossi about Italian cuisine (you were an enthusiast, both of cooking and eating Italian dishes like nothing else existed), Spencer, who had an armed slung over the chair you were sitting on, started twirling your hair in his fingers. When you laughed at some remark about how French people are insane for combining dairy with fish, your boyfriend pulled your hair rather crudely. You glared at him from the corner of your eye.
You got somewhat angry because it was uncomfortable for you to be that intimate around others, but his teasing worked wonders on you. Now, you wanted his touch to be bolder, thirstier, needier, just to match your own sinful thoughts and wants. Right now, Spencer was saying goodbye to Rossi, who was waiting for a cab to take him and his wife back home. Spencer's hand rested at the small of your back. The wine you sipped all through the night, combined with Spencer's bratty behavior, was now making your pussy throb with need for your boyfriend. Nevertheless, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you all worked up in public. "Goodbye, Krystall, and again, happy birthday. Thank you for including me! It was incredible," you said to the woman, who hugged you warmly and thanked you with a smile on her face. "Looking forward to those cooking sessions you mentioned earlier," you said, a big smile on your face as you gave David Rossi a hug.
"Anytime, bellissima." He said simply as you pulled away, smile gracing his face. You held out your hand to Spencer to walk back to his car.
The nickname had struck a nerve. He wasn't jealous, no, he trusted you with his body and his soul, even if he, as a man of science, didn't believe in the latter — that's how much he loved and trusted you, and it was Rossi, for God's sake... Still, he was just another man. Another stupid, territorial man. He opened the door for you and you entered the car, giving him a peck on the lips, "Thanks, handsome."
"Anytime, bellissima," he said through gritted teeth after he closed the door and as you fastened your seatbelt, out of your earshot. He turned around to enter the car, taking the driver's seat.
You went home silently, but you could sense the heavy atmosphere between you on the way there. As you entered your apartment, he got down on his knees to take off your shoes for you. He always did it, no matter what. Apparently, acting weird was no exception to his care with you. You bit your lip, a little apprehensive to bring up the subject. "Thank you, baby," you said softly instead.
"You're welcome, darling." he said, not looking at you and taking longer than necessary in his task.
You sucked in a breath. "Okay, baby, what was that? We need to talk about it."
"What was what?"
"Just when we left the restaurant. I said thanks and you basically ignored me all the way here," you explained, even if you knew he definitely knew what you were talking about. your hand found the nape of his neck, making him look up at you. He had a guilty look on his face.
Busted.
He sighed, "I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I was mean." He apologized, eyes sincerely searching your form and hands reaching up to rest on the sides of your hips.
"Why did you do it, then?"
"Bellissima. You know what it means. I just got... jealous? I should be the only one complimenting you," he said, now standing at full height in front of you. Kissing your lips, hands caressing your waist, touch light as a feather, "telling you how much you mean to me," you sighed as his lips brushed the skin of your neck, "how much it drives me crazy just seeing you," he bit the sweet spot just behind your ear, "my beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend. Mine."
You pulled on his hair so he could see your features. Looking him dead in the eye, with an almost angry look on your face. You wanted him to pay for everything he had done that night. "Baby, you were touching me all night, knowing that you were driving me insane. knowing you're the only one who gets to do that," you leaned in to kiss him softly. "And then throw a tantrum like the spoiled little thing that you are just because someone said a word to me? You know compliments mean nothing when it comes from someone who's not you, baby. Thought you knew better."
Silence. He looked at you like you kicked his dog. 
"Remind me, then," he retorted, looking you in the eye. "Remind me how much you're mine and mine only."
One of your favorite things about your relationship with Spencer was that, in public, your dynamic was totally different from what you were like between four walls. When you were surrounded by people, Spencer acted like a gentleman, always making sure to cater to your every whim, opening car doors, taking off your shoes for you, picking nice places to take you on dates, accepting your suggestions of what to wear — it was no coincidence that he looked a lot more styled lately, but you also loved his usual attires. It was how you met him and how you fell in love with him, after all.
But, in the bedroom (or wherever he decided to have you), it was totally different. You were compliant to everything he said, letting go of the control you had over yourself, over your relationship, over everything so he could take you to fucking heavens. You obeyed everything without so much a "yes, sir", and he fucking loved it.
He unzipped the skin-tight dress after leading you back to your shared room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, you stood before him, whose tie was loosened around his neck. "Is this all for me?" he asked as he saw what you had underneath your dress all night long, absolutely sick with the slightest idea that someone else could have that.
You sighed as he kissed your neck and trailed down to your breasts, easily unclasping your bra. "Yes, sir, all for you."
Just like clockwork, all his attention drifted to your breasts. One of his large, calloused hands held your waist securely and the other played with one of your nipples as he licked the other, his hot tongue circling the nub, making you whimper and sending a rush of wetness through your core. "mmm, always need my mouth full of you, angel."
"nnngh, it feels so good."
He smiled on your skin, biting your nipple afterwards. The sting made you see stars and desperate to feel him in some sort of way, you'd take anything he had to offer you. You just needed to be touched. As he continued your ministrations on your breasts, switching from one to the other, you moaned, your hands finding his hair. "Sir—ah—, can you please—touch me?"
He stopped his movements and looked up at you, laughing mockingly. "Is that all it takes, pretty? A few minutes of my mouth on you and you're already so pliant? So eager for me to touch you?"
"Yes, sir. I need you so bad."
"Tell me, then," he scoffed, "where do you want me to touch you?"
Your incoherent babbles meant nothing, so he just laughed at your poor attempt at an answer.
"You're so good at begging, aren't you?" You nodded, licking your lips with the sight of his wet ones. "Wanna kiss me, baby?"
"Always do. Can I?"
"Yes, you can." No matter how dominant he was, he could never deny you a kiss.
You leaned down to kiss him. The brush of your lips alone made Spencer crazy, craving more and more. He could spend hours just kissing you, never getting tired of the mind numbing sensation it had on him. You deepened the kiss, your tongue caressing his, earning a moan from his end. You smiled. "I love kissing you." You whispered as you barely pulled away, breathless.
"I know you do, pretty."
His hands trailed on the sides of your body, earning a shiver from you. Just as he reached the hem of your panties, they traveled up again, grazing the skin of your arms instead. As he found your hands, he gave them a gentle squeeze. He stood up and looked down at you, in for another kiss. "You have no idea what you do to me," he groaned. His words only spurred you further. "Take off my shirt. Slowly." he commanded. And you complied, taking every chance to brush your fingers against his hot skin, desperate to rake your nails on his chest, to make him shiver for you, too.
Spencer turned you around gently so you could see yourself in the big mirror placed in front of the bed. You watched as he pushed your hair out of his way, resting it on your left shoulder to give him access to your neck, his hands finding your breasts so he could play with them, too. He started with light kisses on your neck, lips barely brushing the area, making goosebumps soon erupt on your skin. His caresses got gradually more aggressive, making you blatantly moan his name when he bit the sweet spot behind your ear and grinded his clothed dick against your ass. You whimpered, overwhelmed with so many stimuli.
Turning you to face him, again, he sat you on the edge of the bed, covered only by your underwear in front of him. You could see the tent in his pants and you were desperate to taste him, to take him in your mouth in order to make him as crazy as he made you. God, the things you'd do to hear him whimper like he knew you loved to hear...
"Thinking about something, angel?" He chuckled, mocking you yet again when he saw what were you looking at and the position you put yourself in: cunt in full display after you placed both feet at the edge of the bed.
You nodded violently. That was how you always found yourself pleading for him. It didn't take much, honestly. "Please, sir, I'll do anything. jus', please, let me feel you,"
Anything...
"Aw, pretty, you're so desperate for me," his tone was condescending. "thought you'd wanted someone else for a moment tonight."
"No! No! Never, sir. Never. I only want you. I only want you to touch me."
Leaning down, his fingers raked over your stomach, ghosting over the fabric of your panties. Spencer groaned as he touched the wet patch on your underwear, glistening, begging for attention.
"'s just how much I want you..."
"Look at you, angel, begging me to have my way with you," he sneered, "so pretty..." he muttered, getting down on his knees.
Through your soaked underwear, Spencer caressed your mound and outer lips, almost as if he was drawing your cunt from scratch, tracing every single feature, making it cling even harder to the garment. Each touch made you feel eager. Want something, say something, right?
He teased you for what felt like hours, but when you were finally able to form a sentence, he pushed your panties to the side and he moaned lowly at the sight of you. "Spence—sir..." You started, but were cut by a breathless grunt that raked through you as he licked a broad stripe on your slit.
"You are soaked, princess, had to have a taste of you... you were sayin'?"
"Please, don't stop, sir," your hands flew to his hair, trying to push him back to what he had started.
"Nuh-uh, princess," he tsked, gathering his tie from the floor, "You don't deserve to touch me after the little show you put up today. I’m gonna have to tie you up, alright?" 
There it was. Your punishment.
One thing about Spencer is that he always made sure to tell you whatever he was planning on doing with you, both so that you could say no if you wanted to and also because it turned you on beyond limits. It made your heart soar, he was so careful with you, making every man on earth seem like straight up Neanderthals. You whined at his plan as he looked at you to see if you were okay with the idea.
You jutted your lip out, brows furrowing, but you couldn't disagree with him. Adorable, he thought. He tied both of your hands behind your back, using his fucking tie. "... Yes, 's alright. I jus' wish I could touch you so badly," you complained.
"I know, pretty," he cooed, "that's why I'm gonna give you a chance to be good for me, and when you prove to me you can do it, you can touch me all you want."
"O-okay," you stuttered as he started placing teasing kisses on your inner thighs. You sighed.
"You smell so good. Want me to taste you too, hm? You're soaked, your pussy is begging me to do something about it."
"Yes, yes, I do!" you almost yelled. "Please, sir, I'll be good for you."
"I know you fucking will." he stated. Just then, he started licking your pussy, delicately at first just so you could get used to the feeling of finally having him the way you wanted. His hands held your hips in place to stop you from moving. He was the one in control, after all.
Then, once he sucked your clit between his lips, he started flicking his tongue against the nub, eliciting moans from you. The taste of you in his tongue was something he could never get used to, every fucking time felt like the first. He felt addicted to the power it had over him. The best he could do was at least try to be in control. You squirmed, almost like you wanted to get away from him, but his firm hands held you in place. "Be good and stay still," he muttered against your core, slapping your pussy once. You nodded, whining, too lost in the feeling after the sting, in the feeling of his tongue punishing you in a rhythm that put you in a frenzy. Spencer's middle finger slowly pushed inside your fluttering walls. "You're dripping all over my fingers. What a messy girl."
Knuckle deep inside your cunt and mouth feverishly and steadily working on your clit, your boyfriend started to feel more and more desperate by the second with the sounds coming from your mouth. You, on the other hand, could almost taste your release, a complete mess on the bed, chants leaving your reddened lips from all the biting, "yes, sir! You make me feel s'good, you're s'deep in me. Fuck! I'm your good g—" as he heard your words tinged with desperation in a high pitched voice and felt the muscles in your pussy tighten, he quickly stopped his actions.
He would bet money that it hurt him more than it did you.
"Noooo..." you whined, like a spoiled brat. A breathless, messy, spoiled brat. You knew what you were in for from the moment he took off your shoes. "Please, please, sir. You can f-eel how desperate I am for you," you blabbered, trying to argue. "Can I show you?" You decided to take matters into your own hands. Well, as best as you could.
He stood up. "Let's see what you've got, princess." He gripped his shaft in front of you, making saliva pool in your mouth. "You're not even being fucked yet, and you're already this dumb, baby?" He sneered at you. You looked up at his face, taking in his dilated pupils watching you. You looked like any man's wet dream, perfect pussy on display, chest heaving with anticipation of what was coming next, face contorted in the filthiest expression in the world.
He would be happy just to watch you, but he was actually able to taste, touch, see, smell and hear the whole thing.
He was the luckiest man in the world.
Half sitting on the bed, back against the headboard and already off of his slacks and briefs, he beckoned you over to his lap. You kneeled somewhat awkwardly on the bed to hover on his lap, cunt dripping arousal on his belly as you did so. He groaned, the dominant facade faltering for a moment. He had to be the most indulgent dominant man ever, because he was barely able to resist you and your seducing ways. "See how wet you make me?" You whispered, eyes focused on his, which looked directly at the sheer liquid pooling on his stomach.
"You're such a good girl, baby" in a weakened voice made its way out of his mouth. "Since you asked so nicely and you have proof, why don't you show me how much you love riding me, huh? Come on, pretty, sit on my cock. Ride me." His commanding sentences made your cunt gush yet again.
"Yes, sir!" you exclaimed, ready to obey his commands.
Spencer gripped his base and rubbed his dick against your folds. He groaned, biting his lip and it took every single ounce of self control not to kiss him senseless. After some more teasing, he muttered, "You can do it now."
You sat down on him, slowly, pushing the tip in. "Fuck," hoarse voice, just the way he loved it, "you feel so good, sir. And you're not even fully in yet."
"Come on, nice and slow, princess."
You sank a little further, his girth stretching you out so deliciously that it made you shut your eyes closed as goosebumps erupted on your skin, pure bliss running through you. "Fuck—ah— you're so, so hard, sir," you hissed.
"Yes, that's it," he grabbed your hands in one of his. He felt you clench around him. "Gonna make sure you get off on my cock alone."
Recalling his demand, you obeyed. Nice and slow, savoring the feeling of having him buried to the hilt inside of you. each time you pulled back just to slam his dick inside again made you feel dizzy. Spencer was mesmerized by the sight before him. First, your expression told him how much you enjoyed riding him, mouth agape to let out the dirtiest moans and words, unlike the poised woman he liked to brag about to whoever listened. "Fuck, you're so deep. 's so good, love it when you let me ride you, sir."
Spencer kept silent for a moment, still admiring your form. He watched as the hair on your skin shivered each time he started to meet your thrusts, eager to make you his. his eyes drifted to your breasts, bouncing with every movement of your bodies. It was wanton, watching you get off on top of him, using him to chase your own high, but the sight that got him enthralled was your pussy making his cock glisten with your arousal. "Yeah, pretty? So what do you say? D'you remember you have to be nice?"
"Thank you, sir"
"Thank you for what?" he urged.
“Thank you for letting me sit on your cock. Ah! I'm all yours, sir! Yours."
"That's right. You're taking me so well, princess, fucking hell," he cursed. "Such a tight pussy, baby, so perfect for me."
At this point, Spencer was a goner below you. You rocked your hips and he met you thrusts ruthlessly, focused on chasing your high. You slowed your movements, clit grinding against his pubic bone, dick still rock hard inside of you. You felt the telling signs of your orgasm approaching and, mind filled with thoughts of all the filth you've done with him. You still wanted to do much more. "Fuck, pretty girl—you're so good at taking me."
You leaned down to whisper in his ear, your tits brushing against his skin adding to the whirlwind of sensations. "Can I come, sir? Please! I want to come all over your cock," all your sentences sounded like heavenly, pathetic whines to Spencer's ears.
"You hafta take it, princess," he groaned, hands guiding your movements. "Take. It." He urged, words emphasized by two particularly hard thrusts. “Wanna come inside of you.”
"Yes, please! I'm all yours—Spencer!" You yelled out his name as your orgasm washed over you, still grinding against him.
The sound of his name leaving your lips was enough to follow you not shortly after. “Gonna come—fuck—inside you.” He gritted. After spilling inside you, he kept fucking his cum back inside with a few sloppier thrusts.
You crashed beside him, taking a minute to catch your breath. Spencer quickly reached to undo his tie on your wrists, kissing the soft skin after removing the garment. You chuckled at his care. “Don't ever stop me from touching you again,” you muttered.
“What are you going to do, angel? Stop me?” He laughed softly.
He cleaned you both up and you had your hands free to caress your boyfriend’s skin all night long.
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The next morning, Spencer had you on the phone as he walked in the bullpen, saying “yes”, “of course”, and a series of different agreements, gleeful expression on his face.
He heard Derek Morgan chuckle. "Aw, Reid, she already telling you what to do?"
"There's no time for her to start, you know that, Derek," Emily quipped.
They had no idea you were telling him about the wet dream you had about him fucking you in the middle of the bullpen.
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milkteabinniechan · 6 months ago
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♡Sweet Like Honey - Chan
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MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST
pairing: husband! Chan x fem! reader
summary: As if meeting your husband for the first time at the altar wasn't nerve-wracking enough, now you two are on your tropical island honeymoon and you still haven't told him you're a virgin!
warnings: fluff, virgin reader, heavy kissing, cunnilingus, beach sex, insecure reader, soft Chan
Chan sleeps peacefully for a while longer before finally stirring, his eyelids fluttering open. As he sits up, he rubs his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of his nap. His gaze falls upon his new wife, sitting nervously in a beach chair. “Hmm, you're still here.”
You turn your attention from the ocean waves to Chan’s face, giving him a curious look. “Did you think I'd run away?”
“I was half expecting you to.” He chuckles, his voice gruff from sleep. “Considering we barely know each other, and the fact that this was all arranged.” He shrugs. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”
You let out a long sigh of relief. “That's good.” You whisper as you turn your attention back to the sand, mindlessly drawing different shapes and patterns with your finger.
Chan watches you for a moment, studying your profile. He finds himself intrigued by your quiet demeanor and the way your fingers move absently in the sand. After a while, he speaks up again, his voice softer this time. “You know, we should probably talk about some things.”
Your shoulders tense as he speaks but you keep your face turned away from him. “Like what?”
“Like the fact that I’m a bit of a workaholic.” He grimaces. “And I snore when I sleep on my back.” He ticks off his fingers as he lists his quirks. “And I’m a bit of a clean freak.”
You chuckle softly, your shoulders already falling a bit as you begin to relax more and more by the second. “Well, I can be a tad messy at times,” you confess, “and I don't eat very well.”
Chan smiles at your response. “Okay, fair enough.” He pauses for a moment before broaching the subject he’s most nervous about. “And how about...physical matters?” He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Have you ever...?” his voice trails off but his honest eyes tell you what he's thinking without saying it. 
You shake your head slowly. Something squeezing your heart as you try to get the words out. “I've never had sex.”
His eyes widen slightly at your confession, a flicker of surprise and something else - perhaps understanding or even a touch of nervousness - crossing his face. He takes a deep breath before responding. “I see. Well, that's...okay. It's nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I'm not ashamed.” You respond quickly. And that was true. You had never been ashamed of waiting until your wedding day. But now that the day has finally arrived… “I'm just nervous.”
He nods, his expression gentle. “I understand. It's natural to be nervous about something so...intimate.” He sits up a bit straighter, his arms wrapping around his knees as he looks out at the ocean. “We can take things slow, okay? There’s no rush.”
You turn your body towards Chan. You were desperate to look into his eyes and search for any hint of malice or deception. “You mean that?” You whispered.
He turns to look at you again, his dark brown eyes meeting yours with sincerity. “I absolutely mean that.” He reaches out to gently take one of your hands in his. “This marriage may be arranged, but that doesn't mean we can't build something real together.”
Your heart swells at Chan's words. The honesty within them coats you like a warmth you had never felt before. Before you could catch yourself, you start to move towards him, your mouths just inches from one another. His breath hitches as you lean in, his heart pounding in his chest. The air between the two of you seems to still, the only sound is the distant rhythm of the ocean waves. Gently, he closes the distance, your lips meeting in a soft, exploratory kiss.
The first kiss you shared was at the altar when you said “I do.” It was so formal and uniform. But this kiss was different, more intimate. Like it was leading somewhere new. Chan deepens the kiss slowly, his hands coming up to cradle your face. His touch is gentle yet firm, coaxing you to open up to him. As the kiss becomes more passionate, he pulls you closer, so that you're sitting on his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck. Soon your hands move from his neck to his hair, letting your fingers tangle and comb through the dark locks. Your hips start to grind and move involuntarily against his lap. He breaks the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. His arms tighten around your waist, stilling your hips with a low chuckle. "Easy there, sweetheart," he murmurs, nuzzling your neck. He nips gently at your neck, soothing the sting with another soft kiss. His hands roam up your back, tracing the curve of your spine through the light fabric of your nightgown. His voice is low and gruff as he speaks against your skin. “We should…”
“Yeah…?” You mumble against his neck.
“Go inside...” He trails off as your hips move against him once more, his body instinctively reacting to the innocent gesture. He groans, his forehead dropping to rest against your shoulder. “Before this goes too far on the beach.” He pulls back to look at you, his pupils dilated with desire.
You turn your head to either side, scanning the now deserted beach. The moon is now the only source of light for miles around. “Well, there isn't anyone else here.” You smirk. Your eyes were full and hopeful that Chan would get the hint. The sight of your king sized bed in that luxury suite was almost too much to bear. The thought of “performing” for the first time in a bed felt like too much pressure. But the beach…
He lets out a low laugh, his body shaking slightly beneath yours. He captures your lips in another deep kiss, his hands slipping down to your backside, squeezing gently. As the kiss deepens, he lays you back against the sand, covering your body with his own. You let out a soft whimper as your still shaking hands move across Chan’s broad chest. He captures your wandering hands in one of his own, bringing them up to his lips to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. His other hand trails down your side, fingertips grazing the edge of your nightgown. "We can stop at any time," he murmurs, his eyes searching yours.
You take a deep breath. Your eyes flicker from his lips to his eyes as the two of you breathe in unison for a moment. “I trust you.” You murmur.
Chan smiles softly at your words, a genuine warmth in his eyes. Slowly, he tugs at the hem of your nightgown, pulling it up and over your head. He takes a moment to admire your form in the moonlight, his hands skimming reverently over your dips and curves. “Beautiful.”
Your face turns a deep shade of red as Chan’s eyes roam over your naked form. Your hands move to cover your face almost reflexively.
"Don't," he says softly, gently pulling your hands away from your face. “Don’t hide from me, my love. You’re absolutely beautiful.” He leans down to capture one of your rosy peaks in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud. Your back lifts up and off the sand at the new sensation. Your legs already begin to spread apart from the heat that is growing. He lavishes attention on your breasts, alternating between soft suckles and gentle nips. His hand trails down your stomach, fingers splaying across your lower abdomen. He kisses a path down your body, his destination clear as he settles between your thighs. "I want to taste you,”
You bite your lip and nod your head softly. “No one has ever…”
Chan looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire and tenderness. "Then let me be the first, and the last." He dips his head, his tongue parting your folds in a slow, deliberate lick. He groans at your taste, the sound vibrating against your most sensitive flesh. He takes his time exploring you with his mouth, learning every inch of you, committing your responses to memory. He focuses on your clit, circling the bud with the tip of his tongue before suckling gently. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he pleasures you.
Your head falls back and presses into the sand beneath you. Your moans mix and mingle with the sounds of the waves crashing. He continues his sensual assault, alternating between long, slow licks and quick flicks of his tongue. He can feel you tensing, your thighs beginning to quake around his head. He doubles his efforts, determined to bring you to your peak. “That's it, my love…”
Your hips move in a new and unexplored rhythm against Chan's face as you work to ride out your orgasm. He holds you steady as you ride out your high, his tongue lapping up your release. He gentles his touch as you come down, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs. He crawls up your body, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
He lets out a low groan as your heat presses against the hard ridge of his arousal still confined in his pants. He reaches between your bodies to unfasten his pants, shoving them down his hips. He lifts your hips, positioning himself at your entrance. He captures your gaze, his eyes seeking yours.
Everything stopped for a moment. Even the waves seemed to silence. Like the entire world was waiting to see what you would do next. The sand still felt warm beneath your head and the towel brushed against your skin as you opened your legs wider. An open invitation for Chan to take you to that new place. For him to be your first and your last. With a gentle yet firm thrust, he buries himself inside you, stretching you in ways you never thought possible. He pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling of being completely inside you. Then he begins to move, his hips rocking against yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm. “Mine.”
You lie still at first, your entire body unsure of what was going to happen next. But the familiar sensation of pleasure washed over you again. The waves crashed against the sand again. Chan kisses you tenderly, his touch becoming slow and languid. He takes his time, his hands caressing your body as he moves inside of you with slow, deep thrusts. Two souls once separate we're becoming one. The cool air danced around you as the two of you, bathed in moonlight, found a new home within each other.
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wordsofwhimsy · 4 days ago
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𝓘𝓯 𝓘 𝓦𝓪𝓼 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭…☆━━━━━━━…‥・
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Pairing: Main!Mark Grayson x f!Reader
Warnings: A little suggestive, nothing too crazy
Tags: Fluff, kind of obsessed, little bit of foot worship lmao
Word Count: 4,695 (got a little carried away - didn't mean for it to be this long lol)
Inspiration: “If I Was Your Girlfriend” – Prince
Synopsis: Mark just needs to be close to you dammit and he can’t stand that you’ll be that way with your girl friends but not him >:(
Mark had never been the jealous type.
When the other kids on his baseball team would hit homeruns as a child, he would just cheer loudly; happy for their success and never once weighing them against his own shortcomings. In school, if his friends aced a test he would smile warmly and give them an encouraging pat to the back – even if he himself had barely managed to pull off a C+. He never viewed others as competition, truly believing there was enough goodness and success in this world to go around.
So why, then, did he so often now find himself leering at your friends?
You all were apart of the same clique in high school, eating lunch together and mingling in the halls between classes. The girls of the group, however, naturally seemed to gravitate toward one another, their conversations often filled with hushed chatter and occasional high-pitched giggles as the sweet smell of candy and flowers lingered in the air around them. It was both intoxicating, and intimidating.
He’d sit with William, only a few feet away but feeling like he might as well have been on the other side of the planet. And to make matters worse, William seemed to have the ability to easily flow between conversations – talking with Mark one minute then turning out of nowhere towards the feminine energy, picking up on something in the girl’s discourse that piqued his interest. They’d welcome his input, it always seeming to inevitably end in a chorus of laughter. How the hell did William do that? And why couldn’t Mark do the same?
Through the muddled noises of the girl’s tittering together, Mark always managed to single out your voice. It called to him like a siren’s song, his eyes lingering on the side of your perfect face as you smiled, lips parted and eyes closed. God, you were so perfect.
Occasionally, he’d find some buried courage within himself to try and join in the laughter – sliding a bit closer in your direction as he chuckled unsurely. And every time, the groups giggles would quickly die away, suddenly everyone seeming to need to clear their throats and look away. But not you. Your smile would linger as you turned your beautiful eyes onto him, leaving Mark struck dumb.
Most days though he would just watch from the outside as you all conversed together, his stare growing heavy as he looked between the other girls. Why were they all so greedy? Wasn’t Mark allowed in on the fun too? He wanted to laugh, dammit, and be in on the joke with you. In fact, he wanted you to laugh at his joke for once, and curl your lips upward because he said something that you liked. Was that really too much to ask for?
His internal struggle only seemed to worsen as he graduated high school and you both moved on to college. He was over the moon when he found out the two of you shared a class – introductory to physical geography. Mark was notoriously bad with this subject, and for once that seemed to work in his favor as study sessions became the new norm between the two of you.
And that brought him to where he sat today, cross-legged on your dorm room floor surrounded by textbooks, maps, and a heap of highlighters.
Your space was cozy, warm with the soft glow of a desk lamp accompanied by the quiet hum of music in the background. You were laid on your stomach across the bed, flipping through notes with a furrowed brow as you lost yourself in the studies.
Mark glanced up from the textbook in his lap, but his eyes didn’t land on the topographic map he was supposed to be memorizing. Instead, they found you.
You were chewing on the end of a pen, brows drawn together as you underlined something in your notebook. You looked tired—but beautiful. God, even the way your foot swung lazily in the air behind you had him captivated. He wasn’t even sure he was blinking anymore.
“You okay?” you asked suddenly, not looking up.
His heart jumped. “Huh? Yeah. Totally. Why?”
You finally lifted your head to look at him, and it took everything in him not to melt under your gaze. “You’ve been staring at the same page for, like, five minutes.”
“Oh.” He chuckled nervously and looked back down at the map, heat rising to his cheeks. “Guess I’m just... zoning out.”
You hummed, rolling onto your side so you could face him properly. “Want me to quiz you on drainage patterns again?”
He groaned theatrically and flopped back onto the floor, covering his eyes with one arm. “Not the drainage patterns…”
You laughed—really laughed—and he felt it bloom inside him like warmth from a sunbeam. It was such a rare sound, at least when he was the cause of it, that it left him stunned for a moment. He peeked out from under his arm to see you smiling, chin resting on your hand.
“What?” he asked, softer this time.
You shrugged, but your gaze didn’t leave his. “Nothing. You’re just funny sometimes.”
“Funny ‘haha’ or funny ‘weird’?”
You pretended to think for a second, then grinned. “A little bit of both.”
He grinned back, because God, that was something, wasn’t it? He could take ‘a little bit of both’ if it meant you were looking at him like that.
For a beat, neither of you said anything. The music in the background shifted to a slower track, something dreamy and low, and Mark let himself imagine—just for a second—what it would be like to move from this floor to your bed, to lay beside you and talk about the constellations or your favorite song or whether you ever thought about kissing someone like him.
And before he could stop himself, he said:
“Can I dress you?”
You blinked. “What?”
His brain practically short-circuited. “I—I mean not like that! I mean—not in a weird way! Not like… dress you-dress you. Just like, clothes. You. I mean—” He groaned and ran a hand down his face. “I heard you’re going to that concert this weekend and I thought… maybe I could help you pick out an outfit?”
You raised an eyebrow at him, clearly amused but unconvinced. “Mark… what are you even on about?”
He blinked, a little stunned by your reaction—like he’d genuinely expected you to take him seriously. You turned back to your notes, head lowering to refocus on the page.
But Mark didn’t move.
He stared for another second, then leaned forward, brows pulling together as something clenched in his chest.
“Aren’t we friends?” he asked suddenly, voice low and a little sharp around the edges.
You paused, pen halfway to the paper.
“I mean,” he went on, gesturing vaguely toward the room, the books, you, “you go shopping and hang out with your girl friends all the time. You laugh and do all this fun, random stuff with them, and no one thinks it’s weird when they pick out your outfits or tell you what shoes to wear or whatever. But I say one thing—one slightly weird thing—and suddenly it’s like I’m crazy.”
You turned your head slowly to look at him again, this time blinking in surprise.
Mark huffed, crossing his arms. “I just thought it would be fun. Like, something friends do.”
He sounded a little pouty now, and maybe he knew it, but he wasn’t backing down. Not when he’d finally gotten a tiny bit of the closeness he’d wanted for so long. Not when he could almost taste what it’d be like to be on the inside of your world, just a little more than before.
“You never let me in,” he muttered under his breath. “Not really.”
You stared at him, mouth parting like you wanted to say something—but the words didn’t come right away. The moment stretched out between you, thick and awkward and a little bit raw.
“I didn’t mean to make it weird,” Mark added quickly, voice softer now, “I just… I don’t know. I wanna know you like they know you.”
You sat up slowly, brow furrowed, clearly trying to make sense of everything he just said.
“Of course we’re friends, Mark,” you said, your voice careful but confused. “But… I mean… girls do that stuff. We help each other pick out outfits, and gossip, and vent about boy problems—”
“Boy problems??” Mark cut in, practically lurching forward.
Your eyes widened. “What?”
“Are you having boy problems?” he repeated, eyes narrowing with an intensity that would’ve been comical if he didn’t look so genuinely concerned. “Is someone bothering you? Who is it? What’d he do?”
You blinked. “Wait—what? No, that’s not what I meant—”
“Because if a guy is messing with you,” he went on, his voice rising a little, “I swear I’ll—”
“Mark!” you said, loud enough to cut through his minor spiral. He froze mid-sentence, still visibly buzzing with protective energy.
You stared at him, unsure if you were about to laugh or throw a pillow at him. “Oh my god. I meant in general. Like, when girls talk to each other, that’s what we talk about. I wasn’t saying I have some guy hurting my feelings right now.”
“Oh,” he said, deflating slightly. “Right. Yeah. That makes sense. Totally.”
He looked away for a second, rubbing the back of his neck, and muttered under his breath, “...would’ve kicked his ass, though.”
You snorted despite yourself, grabbing a pillow off your bed and tossing it lightly at him. “Mark.”
He caught it with a grin that he tried to hide behind mock indignation. “What? I’m just being a good friend, remember?”
Your expression softened a little, but the confusion didn’t leave your eyes. “You’re a very… intense friend sometimes.”
Mark shrugged, half-smiling. “Guess I just like being around you more than most people.”
There it was again—that earnestness. It clung to his voice like honey. Not quite a confession, not really a joke. Just enough to leave you wondering what exactly he meant.
You gave him a look—equal parts fond and exasperated—but didn’t press the weirdness any further. The moment seemed to settle, the earlier tension dissolving into something more comfortable. You turned back toward your notes, laying flat on your stomach again, chin propped in your hand as your other foot swayed lazily in the air.
Mark watched you for a moment from the floor, half-expecting his heart to settle too. It didn’t.
His eyes drifted to your foot.
It was moving rhythmically, back and forth like it had a mind of its own. He followed it with his gaze, fixated. A quiet little thought popped into his head—uninvited, but not unwelcome.
Before he could question it, Mark stood up and made his way over to the bed. Without thinking, he sat right beside you, staring down at your foot like it had personally challenged him to a duel.
“Maybe I could paint your toenails,” he said.
You didn’t respond at first, clearly thinking you’d misheard him.
“…What?”
Mark’s hand was already around your ankle, gently lifting your foot like it was the most normal thing in the world. He looked at it thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly. “Yeah. I could totally do it. You have good feet for it.”
“Mark!”
He looked at you innocently. “What? I’m serious! I’ve got a steady hand. I could do, like… stripes. Or little flowers. Maybe stars? That’d be cool.”
You stared at him like he’d just offered to build you a rocket ship out of Q-tips.
“I cannot tell if you’re messing with me or having a mental breakdown in real time.”
“Can’t it be both?” he said, smirking now, still cradling your foot like it was the most natural thing ever.
You covered your face with your hands, muffling a laugh into your palms. “Oh my god.”
“What color would you go for, anyway?” he asked, gently wiggling your toes like he was already imagining the polish. “Something bright? Black? Maybe that dusty pink thing you wore last month?”
Your hands slid down your face just enough to peek at him through your fingers. “You noticed my toenail color last month?”
“I notice everything about you,” he said plainly.
And the thing was—he did. He really, truly did.
He noticed the way you scrunched your nose when you were concentrating. The way you flipped your pen between your fingers when you were trying to remember something. The way you always tugged your sleeve over your hand when the AC was too strong in the classroom.
And yeah—he noticed your feet.
It wasn’t like a thing, not really. He didn’t plan to notice them. It just… happened. Like the way your sneakers would dangle from one foot when you were sitting cross-legged, or how your toenails always seemed to be painted in these soft, thoughtful colors. Once, you’d had tiny stars drawn on your big toes, and he hadn’t been able to stop glancing at them the entire group study session.
Now he was actually holding one of those feet.
His thumb moved without him really telling it to, tracing gently along the arch, then rubbing slow circles into your heel. Your skin was soft. Warmer than he expected. And your toes were so... cute. Ridiculously cute. Delicate, even. The kind of detail he wouldn’t normally think twice about, but now it felt like he was touching something private. Sacred.
A weird warmth coiled low in his stomach, catching him off guard. He swallowed hard.
Wait.
No.
No, no, no.
He wasn’t a foot guy. He wasn’t. That wasn’t his thing. That had never been his thing.
So then why was his brain stalling? Why was his heart picking up speed like this? Why was he imagining kissing the tops of your toes and thinking it would be the most intimate thing in the entire universe?
What the hell is wrong with him?
He shifted slightly, trying to hide the rising flush in his cheeks, still absently rubbing your foot as if he hadn’t just mentally broken into an entirely new category of emotional—and maybe physical—confusion.
God. If William ever found out about this, he’d never hear the end of it.
But you weren’t pulling away. You were still laying there, letting him touch you, your shoulders gently rising and falling with your breath.
And somehow that made the heat in his chest worse. Made the moment feel heavier. Like something he wasn’t supposed to have—wasn’t even supposed to want—was suddenly right here in his hands.
Mark’s thumb brushed slowly across the top of your foot again.
You still didn’t move.
He blinked, watching your body for any kind of reaction—any twitch, any hint of discomfort. But all he could see was the slow rise and fall of your back as you laid there, face turned slightly away, quiet and calm.
And still, your foot stayed right there in his hand.
His heart skipped a beat.
Wait... is she into this?
He froze, eyes locked on your ankle like it had suddenly become a sacred object. His brain scrambled—grabbing at signs, trying to piece together the puzzle like it was some kind of test with no answer key. You weren’t pulling away. You weren’t laughing at him. You were letting it happen.
Holy shit.
Holy shit.
She’s letting me touch her. She’s letting me hold her like this. Maybe—maybe she wants this?
And in a sudden wave of breathless, clumsy, Mark Grayson confidence, the kind that usually came right before he got punched in the face by a supervillain, he thought:
Just do it.
No more thinking. No more waiting.
Just do it.
He leaned in. No hesitation this time. And without another word—without asking, without explaining—he pressed his lips to your toes. A soft, warm kiss. Tender. Deliberate.
It wasn’t sexual. It wasn’t even romantic in the traditional sense. It was something else entirely—quiet and reverent, like he was thanking them for carrying you through the world, for letting him be this close, just for a second.
And when he pulled back, heart thudding in his chest, he didn’t move.
He just looked up at you.
Waiting.
Mark pulled back slowly, eyes wide and searching your face for any sign of… anything, really. He had no idea what was going on right now, but something was happening, and it was either going to go terribly wrong or way better than he had imagined.
The silence between you stretched out longer than he expected. You didn’t move—didn’t say anything—just stayed still, propped up on your arms, your foot still gently in his hand. But the weight of the moment was thick, pressing against him, making his stomach churn.
And then, slowly, like a wave crashing toward him, you turned your head.
Your eyes found his, a flicker of confusion dancing in them as you met his gaze. You didn’t say anything right away. You just looked at him, your brow furrowing slightly. Then, you parted your lips, exhaling just a little as you said, barely above a whisper, “Mark…”
His heart hammered in his chest. Oh God. Oh God, what the hell was she thinking?
He quickly glanced away, biting his lip nervously. “What? I mean… what’s the big deal? Isn’t this what friends do?”
It came out so much faster than he meant, a forced attempt at nonchalance that was painfully obvious. His eyes were wide, maybe a little too wide, but he couldn’t help it. Oh God, I can’t believe I said that.
“You know, like… helping each other out, right? With stuff. I thought… I thought you might want me to do something nice for you or whatever.” He was spiraling now, digging himself deeper and deeper. “Like, friends help each other pick out outfits or—”
But then he trailed off, realizing how insane he sounded.
Your expression didn’t change much—still that slight confusion, but now something else, too. A spark of humor? A glimmer of something else he couldn’t read?
He swallowed hard. He had no idea what to do next. His whole body was practically vibrating with the intensity of everything he’d just done.
“Well?” he managed, trying to salvage some kind of dignity. “Isn’t that what… what friends do?”
You stared at him for a beat longer, just long enough to let the silence hang heavy between you. Mark was practically sweating, looking anywhere but directly at you, and it was… almost adorable. Almost.
Then, a small smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Just a hint of mischief, something playful, but not mean. You tilted your head ever so slightly, and the words tumbled out before you could stop them:
“Friends, huh?” You let the word hang in the air, slowly leaning back on your elbows. “So, you’d do this to… oh, I dunno, William?”
Mark froze, his eyes snapping to yours like he’d been slapped with cold water. His mind scrambled to catch up with your teasing tone.
“Wha—what?” he stammered, now visibly flustered. “No, I mean, not William! I—I’m just—look, it’s different with you! You’re my… my friend, and—”
You raised an eyebrow, your smirk only widening at his increasing panic. “Different, huh? So you’d kiss William’s toes? Is that what you’re saying?”
Mark’s eyes widened even further as his brain absolutely went haywire. “I—I—No! No, of course not!” he blurted, hands flailing awkwardly. “I didn’t mean—God, that’s—no, just—look, you’re—you’re different, okay?” He paused, biting his lip like he was trying to hold back an entire speech that he couldn’t quite figure out. “I just… you’re… you. And I…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
You couldn’t hold back anymore. You leaned back on your arms, grinning slyly, watching the storm inside his brain, thoroughly enjoying every second of it. Slowly, deliberately, you spread your toes apart—just a little—enough that the movement caught his eye, the stretch of your foot making the room feel even closer.
“Is it my toes you like,” you asked, voice teasing, “or maybe, is it… me?”
Mark froze.
His heart skipped a beat, then pounded loudly in his chest. He blinked rapidly, face flushed as his gaze locked on your foot once again. He could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks, a mix of confusion and something else he wasn’t sure he had the courage to face.
“You—you—what—what are you—” His words faltered, his brain scrambling to make sense of your teasing tone and the way your foot had just moved. Were you playing with him? Testing him? Or were you serious?
No. No, no, no, she couldn’t be serious. This was a joke.
But his heart was thudding too loudly in his ears for him to think clearly.
The corner of your mouth twitched upwards as you leaned in just slightly, your playful smirk never fading. “Well, Mark,” you said, your voice low and almost teasing, “are you gonna answer me?”
Mark’s mind went blank. His pulse was racing. His whole body tensed, frozen in a mix of terror and need. He could feel his chest tightening as your words hung in the air, spinning in his head like some impossible puzzle he couldn’t solve.
He was spiraling.
If he didn’t answer—if he didn’t say something now, this moment, this tension, was going to stretch out forever, and it would be so much worse than just admitting it. His palms were sweating, his heart pounding in his throat.
Just say something. Anything.
His eyes flickered between your smirk and the way your foot rested in his hand. Then, without thinking—without considering how ridiculous it sounded—he blurted it out in a single breath:
“You. I like you. All of you.”
He swallowed hard, the words coming out faster than he could stop them. “Not just your toes. I mean, yeah, your toes are cute and all, but... that’s not the point! I—I like you, okay? All of you.”
The confession hung in the air like a heavy weight.
Mark’s face flushed a deep red as he realized what had just tumbled out of his mouth. He opened his mouth again, ready to apologize, or explain, or somehow unsay what he’d just said. But no words came.
Instead, he just sat there, staring at you, his eyes wide with shock and embarrassment, waiting for whatever came next.
The words hung in the air between you like a live wire, crackling with unspoken meaning. Mark was still sitting there, frozen in place, completely vulnerable, his mind still trying to process everything that had just escaped his lips. His heart was beating so fast he thought it might burst.
You didn’t say anything right away. Instead, you just watched him, your gaze intense, studying him like you could see straight through him. Your chest rose and fell, just slightly, and Mark couldn’t help but notice how close the two of you were now, the tension practically vibrating between you.
And then, after what felt like an eternity of silence, you spoke.
Your voice was quieter now, softer—but laced with something Mark couldn’t quite place. Something daring.
“Then prove it.”
Mark blinked, his stomach lurching at the words.
He felt his breath catch in his throat, his pulse spiking again. His eyes widened, and for a moment, it was like everything around him disappeared. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.
All he could do was stare at you, completely caught off guard by your response.
You weren’t laughing. You weren’t shying away. You were just looking at him—waiting. Quietly, calmly, but with a certain expectation in your eyes.
The weight of your words pressed down on him like a thousand pounds.
Prove it?
His brain sputtered. What did that mean? How did he even begin to prove something like this? He could barely even comprehend what was happening right now, let alone how to react.
But deep down, he knew. He knew exactly what you were asking. And he knew—knew—there was only one way forward.
Without thinking, without hesitation, Mark leaned in closer, his hand falling away from your foot as his body instinctively moved toward you. His heart was hammering in his chest, clouded eyes never leaving yours as the tension between you both thickened with each passing moment.
He slowly crawled up the bed, inch by inch, as if his body was acting on its own, taking over, moving closer to you with a sense of inevitability. He stopped above you, staring down at the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—your hair fanned out around your head, the soft rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips looked so inviting, so right.
He swallowed hard, his arm trembling on either side of your head as he held himself up above you. But then, without thinking about it any longer, Mark leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. The contact was light, hesitant, just a test—an almost unsure kiss. He pulled away quickly, unsure of what he was doing, his heart racing in his chest. Was it too much? Too soon?
But you didn’t pull back. You didn’t shy away.
That was all he needed. His breath hitched, and before he could second-guess himself, Mark dove back into the kiss. This time, it was deeper, firmer, the hesitation melting away as he found himself falling into it, like a man starved. His lips moved against yours with increasing urgency, his hand finding your face, gently cupping it, as though he couldn’t bear to let go.
The kiss was clumsy at first, raw, desperate—Mark couldn’t help himself. He wanted you. Needed you. And you were finally here, pinned beneath him, in this moment. His body pressed against yours, his chest tight, his hands roving across your skin, his fingers trembling as he explored.
His lips parted nervously, but you immediately reciprocated – was this all a dream? His tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting you like this for the first time. He couldn’t help the groan that rumbled through his chest, his hips subconsciously pressing down harder into yours. And you, in turn, back immediately painfully aware of the hard length pulsing against your inner thigh.
After a time that felt way to short in Mark’s opinion, you gently pushed him away, just enough to create some distance between you. Mark’s chest heaved as he pulled back slightly, his eyes wide, still clouded with a mix of desperation and shock. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body still buzzing with the intensity of the kiss.
His hands hovered uncertainly in the air as if they didn’t know what to do without you there. “Wait… what—what’s happening?” he gasped, his voice a little shaky, trying to make sense of what just happened.
You smiled softly, teasingly, a playful glint in your eyes as you looked up at him, enjoying the way his expression was still a mix of confusion and urgency. You let your head fall back down into the bed, your posture relaxed, while his body still felt tense, like he was poised to dive right back into it.
“Yeah,” you said with a little shrug, “that’s not what friends do, Mark.” The teasing smirk on your face only deepened, and your voice lowered into something more playful as you added, “You really gonna tell me that friends kiss like that?”
Mark blinked, looking almost flustered by the teasing, but his expression quickly morphed into something more determined—more sincere. He leaned in a little closer, his voice barely above a whisper, his words coming out with a mix of uncertainty and raw honesty.
“If the friend is you?” he said, his gaze intense, “Then God I hope so.”
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girlsworldillusion · 4 days ago
Text
When pretending doesn't matter anymore  
Alpha!Aemond - Omega!Reader
Summary: An unexpected heat. An unclaimed Omega. An Alpha fighting for control. An intense combination of events that change your life completely.
Rated: Explicit (+18)
Ella's Notes: This story, as the summary says, explores a bit of the A/B/O dynamic. Which, of course, touches on subjects like heats and ruts, secondary designations, bonding bites, knots and the like. I tried to approach it in a simpler way, because I understand that this universe is very complex and goes beyond such things. Anyway, if this is something that sparks your interest, enjoy!! It was a challenge in some parts, but I'm pleased with the result. I hope you like it too.
(I left out a good portion of the dance events excluded in this story, since the goal was to focus on the Alpha and Omega dynamic. So it's very subjective whether there's a dance about to happen or not, and I'll leave that to your imagination.)
Happy reading!
Word count: 11k
Dividers: @saradika-graphics
English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you may find.
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You couldn’t remember ever feeling so immensely uncomfortable as you did now.
“No, no, no…This can’t be happening now.”
You felt heated and heavy in your body, as if you had been soaking in a steaming bath for too long. As if you had been lying too close to the scalding breath of your dragon’s flames. Your fever was getting worse. Your steps were starting to stagger slightly, sweat dripping down your forehead as you let yourself lean against the stone wall of the hallway for a moment.
There was no doubt what was happening, you had been in enough heat over the years to know when you were sinking into one. The thing was, you weren’t supposed to be in one, not for at least another whole month. In fact, up until a few minutes ago you had been stuck at a normal dinner with your family, listening to Aegon’s disgusting and disrespectful jokes and trying to calm the silent tension between Lucerys and Aemond. Nothing was different there. Everything was going as dull and tedious as ever.
That is, until Aemond reached out to grab a piece of bread from your side. And that simple, seemingly harmless gesture was the catalyst for everything that was deeply held inside you. The movement brought his side closer to yours, almost unnecessarily closer you would say, and you were about to voice that thought out loud to him when it hit you.
The scent.
You couldn’t say what was different, what made you so intimately aware of that smell, since you had been around the man since you were children. Maybe it was the unprecedented fact that you were sitting next to each other at the dinner table after the deliberate distance you had forced upon yourself and him over the past few years. Maybe he was about to come into a rut of his own and hadn’t even noticed yet. Or maybe Aemond had been drinking some tea or some herbal substance to suppress the worst of his own smell all this time and for the first time he was free of it...
The thing was, with that simple movement of picking up a damn piece of bread from the table, he had shoved into your nostrils a whiff of the most delicious scent you had ever smelled in your life.
Dragon scales, the burning flames of a fire, open parchments and green apples. The memory of childhood, of an old feeling. Familiar and comforting, soothing your inner omega, making you want to delve deeper into the scent and wrap yourself around him. But it also aroused you. His scent was undeniably masculine and Alpha, with a dangerous and dominating richness that made you want to submit - right there, at the dinner table, in front of the whole family.
The whole thing mixed together in a spiral of aromas that flowed straight into your lungs, pulling an absolutely embarrassing and undignified meow from your lips before you could even realize it. Judging by the annoying chatter that continued at the table, no one had noticed that sound, thankfully. No one except Aemond - who was right there next to you, unfortunately. He stared at your tense profile with a sharp gaze, his hand extended for the bread, but frozen in the air before he could reach it, not even disguising that his focus was now elsewhere.
Even staring fixedly at a bowl of sauce on the table as if it were the only thing in the world that mattered, you could clearly notice when he was about to say something and, at the same time as he parted his lips with a sigh, a strong and sudden tightening in your lower abdomen was present, the space between your legs contracting and relaxing to emit a pool of absolutely unexpected moisture on the delicate fabric of your underwear.
Your body's reaction horrified you so much that you immediately pushed your chair back, the loud creak of the wooden legs on the stone floor drawing the attention of the others at the table. You could only quickly mumble that you weren't feeling well, that you were going to get some sleep and asking please for no one to worry, before practically running out of the place, barely hearing your mother say that she would send someone to check on you later.
Which brings you to the present moment.
Emotions were already starting to get the better of you. The intensity of the sensations leaving you on the verge of tears, the sheer desperation born of falling into a heat without being in the least bit prepared for it making your fingers tremble.
Usually there would be a prelude, signs that would serve as a warning of the approaching heat, giving you time to properly prepare yourself for the intense days ahead. But this time you seemed to have skipped all the stages straight to the peak of the sensations, without warning and without preparation.
All you could do was force your staggering body through the hallways to your bedchamber, knowing there was no other alternative. The heat was here, whether you wanted it or not. And despite everything, this was one of those few moments when you felt grateful to have been born into such a noble house.
Omegas comprised the smallest part of the population, followed by Betas and Alphas. But although fewer in number, omegas were violently desired - especially by alphas. Their smaller, gentler build, delicate features, natural predisposition to submission and, of course, their heat, were just a few reasons why the rest of the population would go to great lengths to keep an omega for themselves. And you knew what happened to those poor omegas scattered throughout the streets of King's Landing and throughout the Seven Kingdoms, without any choice over their own desires, nothing more than slaves to their unfair biology.
There was no mercy when one of them went into heat, yearning intensely for the claim of an alpha - no matter who was. Which led to unwanted pregnancies, sexual slavery, omega trafficking and other heat-induced atrocities. The alphas, in turn, gave in to their most basic instincts when faced with such need, acting more like animals than humans. The brutal confrontation for the claim of an omega most often ended in blood and death - not only of alphas, but death of the omega in question many times, caught in the middle of such unbridled violence.
Despite being rare and desired for their instinctive subservience, omegas were constantly discriminated against, treated with disdain and irrelevance once they are claimed; as pariahs of society, nothing more than perfect breeding mares for the alphas. More than once you vehemently cursed the gods for making you one of them. The burden caused by your designation was almost unbearable. You would give anything to be a Beta; to fit into a standard of normality in the eyes of the people for once in your life. Wasn't it enough to suffer ridicule and discrimination for the questionable origin of your and your brothers birth? Did the gods still need to come and make you an miserable omega?
Ever since you had your first heat at fourteen, you had suffered this fate alone, since any omega of noble lineage could only be claimed when they were of suitable age to marry. Servants stocked your bedchamber with everything you might need in the days following the heat; the finest towels and blankets for your nest, personal beta guards posted day and night at your door for protection, servants discreetly entering to change your bath water and replenish your food and drink supplies. You had all the comfort and privacy that wealth could offer, but your body still yearned for an alpha — your omega begging for a knot, for large hands to hold you close, for sharp teeth to sink into your flesh to claim you as his. It was instinct, uncontrollable, a need so primal and overwhelming that you cried for days, sweating and writhing in the large, lonely bed as you screamed for an Alpha.
But when your heat was gone and this ordeal finally came to an end, you felt grateful to be safe within these walls, hidden from the violence of the alphas who would only desire you for your secondary designation.
And your foggy mind whispers it to you once more. Despite everything, you are safe. Just go to your chamber, make your nest at some point of relief and you will be fine. Like always.
And so you almost do - the large, ornate doors of your bedchamber visible at the end of the hallway, making you sigh in relief. Until a voice halts your final walk.
“Do you need help, Princess?”
The booming, recognizably Alpha voice makes you flinch where you stand, eyes widening as you turn to the source of the sound. Standing there is one of your Personal Guards, Ser Adrian Redfort.
“I-I’m fine, Ser.” You reply hoarsely, straightening your posture as best you can to support your false statement, your heart racing in your chest at being in front of an Alpha just as your heat begins to build.
“Are you sure?” he asked slowly, tilting his head slightly in curiosity — but also with something hard to describe shone there, something dark and shrewd. “You don’t look well.”
And by the gods, you really didn’t. Your face was flushed to the point where you could feel the heat radiating from your skin, a few loose strands of hair beginning to stick to the sides of your face from the sweat. Your intricate dress were wrinkled and uncomfortable on your body where it clung to your damp skin, and you were breathing hard, as if there wasn’t enough air in the castle.
“Yes, I-I’m sure!”
You had never been afraid of the man in front of you — he was one of your Personal Guards after all, someone who was there to protect you. And that was why he was never around when your heat gave signs, replaced by Beta Guards. For your safety. His being assigned to protect your chambers tonight was proof that this heat shouldn’t have happened now.
He sniffs you, a slow twitch of his nostrils that could have sent your entire world crashing down, growling low in his throat at whatever scent he can pick up coming from you. The alpha in front of you is tall, with a dark mess of curls on his head and equally dark eyes. The stubble on his tanned cheeks makes him look rough and sullen. His broad shoulders beneath his armor seem to swell even more under your shy scrutiny and his posture straightens to full height, a show of strength to win over a potential mate.
You weren’t afraid of him. Ser Adrian Redfort, despite his intimidating appearance, was a man of honor, you knew.
But not even the most honorable men were immune to the powerful pheromone an omega released during a heat. They were all alphas, after all, driven by the primal instinct to claim a small, unmated omega.
And when he stares into your eyes like that, his expression as intense as a forest fire, alpha pheromones seeping from his pores so suffocatingly that you might as well have a bag over your head, you feel like you’ve never in life truly experienced the instinctive compulsion to bow and submit to a male like you do now.
And that’s what you’re afraid of.
You’re afraid because you know it’s not you wanting it. It’s your instincts, your pheromones reacting to his and he reacting to yours in an endless loop, the stupid biological compulsion to let an alpha take over your body and use you as he best serves him. Be good, be good for the Alpha.
You know that very soon your mind will be so consumed with heat that you won’t have such qualms or uncertainties, you’ll want — no, you’ll need — an Alpha, and you’ll beg for it, no matter who it is. But there’s still some coherence and lucidity left in your mind, reeling as it is. And using that shadow of sanity, you shiver just thinking about Ser Adrian with you in your nest; his hands on your body, his teeth in your flesh, his knot deep in your cunt.
No, no. Wrong. It’s wrong.
“I could help with that, princess.”
He proposes and you both know very well what he’s referring to. The darkness in his gaze more prominent; a thin, golden ring at the edges — evidence that his alpha was taking control of his emotions.
It’s wrong, but still you feel more moisture forming between your legs, making a sticky mess on your inner thighs, reacting against your will to the alpha pheromones exuding from the man - and you almost sob, because it’s horrible. It’s horrible and no one talks about it; about how absolutely terrifying it is to have no control over your own body, even when you’re undeniably uncomfortable with a situation like that.
Your mother had raised you fierce and resilient, just like Daemon had when he came into your life as another father figure, but you still felt like a child after all, holding back tears and clenching your fists. Your only salvation was your stubborn nature and thirst to prove yourself, to prove that you were more than just a delicate and submissive omega.
Yes, a part of you was aroused to the point of being intoxicated by the sensation, but the more rational side, which was disappearing by the second, fought even harder, squirming and grunting, rebelling against your most basic instincts. Fearing the alpha more than you wanted his knot. The pungent smell of stress and heartbreak tangling deep in the air with the sweet scent of your heat.
This alpha was no good...not the right one.
"N-no, thank you," you reply, gathering all your willpower, desperately trying to think of a way out. You were trapped in an empty hallway, at the beginning of your heat, with a strong, intimidating alpha - it was not a good situation.
"Please," you find yourself arguing with him suddenly when he doesn't back down, your mouth moving before you can even think, "I know you're not that kind of alpha, Ser Adrian, it's just the pheromones getting the better of you, you'll regret it once your mind clears. I said no, please listen to me."
He steps forward anyway, invading your personal space. And as scared and aroused as you are (an honestly disturbing mix of emotions to have) you find yourself baring your teeth at him - a small growl building in your throat, standing up to the alpha who dared to disrespect your decision.
"Poor thing," Ser Adrian chuckles, the golden ring in his eyes growing more evident, your little, thoughtless act of confrontation only stirring the alpha inside him. "You don't know what you need, omega, not really. But I do."
The next thing you know, he’s advancing, so much so that you immediately back up against the wall in response, flattening your feverish, sweaty body against it as best you can to get away from him. A whimper leaves your lips as he reaches out, your body disgusted and craving the action in equal measure, making your eyes brim with tears. He’s going to touch you, he’s going to do it. He’s going to do it and still claim that you wanted it, because…well...you don’t want it, but you do too, don’t you?
A sound rings out behind the two of you.
“Get away from her, Ser Adrian.” You recognize Aemond’s voice quickly; a sharp, relieved sigh in response, your omega instantly perking up inside you. “Now.”
His voice is as calm and deep as ever, but you hear the warning there; the dark tone gnawing at the edges - a tone that promised danger if not heeded. It does something to you, fills your stomach with little butterflies - all fluttering their wings at once. A purr wanting to escape your throat. Safe, the Alpha will keep you safe. Finally.
Ser Adrian’s expression darkens as he senses your relief through the pheromones in the air, slowly turning his body to face the unwelcome presence. He shows no submission at all when he sees Aemond standing there, even though he knows he was his prince. You know he’s too far gone for that now. No hierarchy matters here. It's just two Alphas facing each other over an Omega.
He exchanges an intense look with Aemond, obviously communicating that you are worth the confrontation.
"What are you going to do?" Ser Adrian challenges, his hand slowly descending to rest on the hilt of the sword strapped to his waist. "I bet you don't have the guts, boy."
You swallow hard, trembling for Aemond, scared at the prospect of a fight. Your omega, once relieved, is now agonized at the thought of this Alpha getting hurt.
Aemond, for his part, remains seemingly unfazed by the older man's threat - in fact he smiles at the guard's words. A cold and sharp smile, disdainful really, tilting his head in mock consideration, his hands still casually clasped behind his back. "Do you really want to test that theory?"
Ser Adrian pulls his sword a little from where it is kept, offended by the younger Alpha's reaction, but he still doesn't remove the blade completely from his waist. Aemond, though he makes no move toward his own sword, stares at him with such acidity and defiance in his eye that it’s almost as if that was the only weapon he’d need tonight.
Alphas fighting over an omega in heat become wild, territorial, aggressive. Ser Adrian, from where you can see, is vibrating with tattered restraint, with the tension of a possible confrontation unfolding. He’s acting on instinct. But Aemond isn’t. Although there’s a hard shadow in his one good eye, a warning to his dark and unpredictable interior - he keeps himself perfectly in control. His hands are clasped behind his back, a provocative smile on his lips.
“She doesn’t smell like you,” the other Alpha growls through his teeth, straightening his shoulders, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.
“Hn, maybe I’m a gentleman and I’m going slow so as not to scare her,” Aemond replied in affront, the corner of his lip still pulled back in a lazy smile. "A concern that has not crossed your mind, obviously."
The older Alpha grunts in displeasure in his throat, casting an appraising glance at you over his shoulder, his nostrils flaring to catch your scent. And if you had control of your legs, you would be long gone by now. But not only is your heat consuming your to worrying levels, but the overwhelming pheromones that both Alphas exude in this confrontation are strong enough to make you flinch in response, exhaling your own cornered and fearful scent into the air.
"Are you saying you are this Omega's Alpha?" Ser Adrian snorts in annoyance, turning his narrowed gaze to Aemond.
"Yes." He doesn't even hesitate before answering. "Do you have anything to say or...do...about it?"
The clean and immediate statement coupled with the unspoken challenge makes you gasp, your legs shaking and threatening to give way beneath you, the viscosity in your pussy increasing in response to that easy words.
Did...did he say he was your Alpha?
Could it be that you heard him correctly? Could it be that the only man you'd ever wanted to be courted by had felt the same way all this time?
A thought you'd never dared to voice out loud, knowing full well that doing so would be nothing short of a confession. And you definitely didn't feel ready to confess any tender feelings for Aemond yet. Despite what your stupid heart told, you knew what a conflicted person he was. His sarcastic and unpredictable personality, even his tendencies toward cold words and actions at times.
But he was also...he could also be...
The truth was, you knew how you felt about him. You knew it all too well.
And while you usually managed to keep your unwanted feelings well caged and hidden from outside knowledge, falling into a sudden and intense heat like this made it significantly harder to maintain this charade, especially when his scent hung imposingly and proudly over the other alpha, all possessive and icy intentions. And especially when he so easily claimed to be your alpha.
Amidst the surprise of the declaration, you almost forgot about the challenge between both men, only coming back to the present when Ser Adrian growls something between his teeth (something that sounds very much like a curse), shoving his sword back into its sheath with much more aggression than necessary. He straightens himself before the other alpha - but even so Aemond towers over him, with his imposing height. The older one reluctantly steps away with a murderous look at the prince, maintaining contact as long as he can - it was not in an alpha's nature to give in, especially in the presence of another. Which shows that, on some level, Ser Adrian was still there, clinging to the shreds of control he had left over his own primal instincts.
Aemond holds his gaze, but looks at you again as soon as the guard disappears around a bend in the hallway, his steps deliberately heavy and dissatisfied.
"Come," he says as he approaches where you're leaning against the wall, his cold, affronted expression giving way to one that's almost angry. You feel yourself wilt a little at the abrupt change, but try not to show it, for fear of upsetting the alpha even more. "Let me take you to your chamber, it's not safe to be out here with so many alphas around the castle, especially when you smell like that."
He takes a step closer and you meow in response, your body so fragile and small next to his, his scent invading your nose again. Green apples and parchment, dragon scales and fire. Your omega immediately purrs, wanting to snuggle into this Alpha, let him protect you and take care of your needs.
“Can you walk?” He asks slowly, looking much more tense with you than he had when he’d challenged an older, more experienced alpha, his jaw clenched and his violet gaze refusing to stay on yours.
You feel something ache in your chest, not understanding why he was suddenly being so distant, even though he’d proudly defended you not long ago.
“Y-yes, yes, I can.”
Your legs are definitely shaking, but you still force yourself to take the final steps to your chamber, your dress clinging to your body in the most uncomfortable way, your damp thighs rubbing against each other and creating a friction that makes your skin crawl all over.
Aemond stands rigidly beside you, walking at a respectful distance, looking like he’s barely breathing. Clearly wanting to avoid smelling you. But…but why? Doesn’t he like the way you smell? Don’t you please the Alpha?
You suddenly feel frantic, scared by the knowledge that you’ve lost him before you’ve even reached him.
This is something you could handle normally. Gods, you could handle worse than this, normally. You’ve been putting up with your conflicting feelings for him for years. The heat is just making you feel silly and sad and…pathetic…
But knowing this doesn’t make it any better. It doesn’t help. And before you can stop yourself from doing something stupid, your mouth is moving.
“Why did you say that?” You ask as he opens the door to your chamber for you to enter, staggering and panting, nearly tripping until you fall onto the ornate sofa to catch your breath as if you had run all the way across the Red Keep to get here.
“What?” He asks vaguely, glancing discreetly into your chamber, but not entering it. Looking at your space. Where the things that please your omega are. No alpha has ever had such a view. But he can, you decide. You want him to look.
“Why did you say you were my Alpha?”
For a few seconds, all you can hear is the rapid beating of your heart and your breathing. He had left you in your chamber as he promised, and you began to fear that he would simply ignore the question and leave now.
“I don’t know,” he finally answers, interrupting his checking of the environment to look at you; though his gaze is vacant and distant, as if he is trying hard to just pretend to look at you. "I thought that would drive him away without the need for a physical confrontation. You wouldn't have been satisfied with such aggression, I imagine."
You bite your lip to contain a moan as you feel a strong wave of cramps in your lower abdomen, your head swimming in the rising heat, as if reacting instinctively to those words. He worried about you, about what would leave you unsatisfied.
And later, you would tell yourself that the next question was solely guided by your messy, chaotic hormones, by his enchanting scent filling your sensitive nose. Anything to exclude your conscious guilt.
"What if it were true?"
Aemond blinks, finally looking at you. For real this time. "If it were true what?"
You take a deep breath, your heart beating so fast you can feel it straining against your ribcage.
"That you're my Alpha." You mumble, cursing your own mouth as soon as the words come out. But it was too late and he had already heard each one of them. "What if...what if you really were?"
For a long moment he says nothing, just stands there, stoic and magnificent in his white hair flowing over his shoulders, dark clothes and hands behind his body, staring at you with an almost alarmed expression. And you are so nervous, so messed up with all these intense emotions and this miserable heat burning your body that you find yourself mumbling to fill the maddening silence he maintains, your hands fidgeting as you gesture them in the air.
"Y-you could come in. You could stay here, with me, if...if you wish, of course. I really-"
Aemond shakes his head suddenly once, his gaze darkening at you.
"That's not a good idea."
The way he says it, so firm and direct, his expression hardening into something determined, makes you shut up immediately. The saliva in your mouth is suddenly too thick, your heartbeat painful.
“Oh.”
The rejection stabs you like a sharp dagger, piercing your chest through to the other side in one fell swoop, and you feel like crying. Your bottom lip trembles, and you stare at the opposite wall, nodding weakly. Honestly, how many more ways did the gods plan to humiliate you?
All those years of hardening your feelings for him, keeping yourself away to keep them from growing any further. And you were doing well. Everything was going well. But then, the one time you let yourself harbor a small flame of hope, he rejects you so easily that you wish you could eat the words back, pretend it never happened.
“Right, yeah,” you mumble, limiting yourself to a few words in case you start sobbing out loud. “I understand. You don’t…” You sigh, hurt in a way that only an omega rejected right during their heat, the most vulnerable moment, could sound. Stupid, stupid hormones, you hate feeling this way. “You don’t want me. It’s okay.”
“Wait — what? You think it’s because I don’t want —” Aemond breathes out an incredulous laugh, finally pulling his hands from behind his back to rub them down his face, frustration clear in each of his sharp lines, making your omega shrink even further inside you. Alpha is dissatisfied, help him, calm him down. Despite your increasingly stronger instincts, you manage to stay in the same place, with your shoulders slumped and your breathing anxiously in your chest. "Of course I want you. You have no fucking idea, Y/N, I swear. But this..." he points to your body, to your disheveled condition and watery eyes, "...this is just the heat. You don't really want me to come in there with you. It's just the heat and when it passes, you'll regret this request."
You sigh shakily at his statement, at the restraint he's showing even as he lowers his clenched fists to his sides; jaw tense, preventing himself from breathing too deeply and taking in more of your scent. The intensity in his gaze making your heart race as he stares at you, his brow furrowed in an unreadable expression.
It all makes sense now.
So that's it, huh? He was trying to stay away because he thinks you only want him because of the heat. He thinks you would regret this. He thinks you only want him because he is an unbonded alpha who conveniently happens to be here at this moment.
God heavens, you wish that was all it was.
"It's not just the heat."
You whisper to the imposing room and he sighs deeply.
"Y/N..."
"Let me speak, please."
He holds your gaze firmly and dominantly, almost making you tilt your head down in a natural response of submission, but to your relief he ends up giving in after a few seconds with a stiff nod of his chin.
You wet your lips. "Yeah, I'm going into a sudden heat and I might be partially driven by instincts here..." You mumble weakly, the heat making your body shiver and your mind swim, but you fight to keep yourself together as much as you can in order to convey to him what you really need.
"But Aemond, I shouldn't even be having a heat right now, I'm nowhere near my normal cycle. Y-you, oh fuck -" you gasp in pain as an intense cramp makes you curl up completely over your own body on the sofa. Aemond instinctively reaches out to help, but stops when you hold up an open, shaking palm to him. "N-no, wait. I need to finish saying this." He doesn't look pleased, but he does as you say, waiting impatiently as you shift back into a sitting position, breathing slowly through your teeth to try and calm yourself.
“Do you know what sent me into this sudden heat in the first place?” You ask quietly when you’ve finally gathered yourself enough, your watery eyes glaring at the man in front of you, begging him to hear what you really mean.
“What?” He asks back, holding your gaze with just as much intensity.
You take a breath. “It was you. It was your scent, Aemond.” Your brows furrow at him, trying to hide the shiver that shakes your body as another painful cramp wracks through you. “I-I’m surrounded by unbound alphas here at the Red Keep; Aegon, a few Gold Cloaks, the Kingsguard, my Personal Guards, a few nobles from the court. Every day I see them and interact with them and yet none of them have ever sent me into an uncycled heat. Never. Only you.”
His gaze is dark and heated, a stormy violet, his expression tense and expectant.
"B-but even if my omega didn't feel that way, even if you weren't an alpha...heavens, you could be a beta and I'd still want that, with you." Your mouth is worryingly dry, which you find to be a fair contradiction to how absolutely soaked the middle of your legs is. "Because I've always liked you. Ever since we were children and you would teach me Valyrian late into the night in the library, hidden from our parents and the guards, far better than any Maester could. Or when I claimed a dragon and you were so genuinely happy for me, even though you didn't have your own dragon then. And when everyone laughed at me at court? They made jokes about my birth, but you always defended and protected me - even if you happily let my brothers be fed to the wolves." You smile shakily with the little self-control you have left, which elicits a small snort of disdain from him. "Y-you've taken care of me and protected me all along the way and I've always felt safe with you. And that had nothing to do with your designation."
Aemond exhales heavily, a husky and unmistakably masculine sound, his alpha clearly pleased to hear that you felt safe with him. A shiver runs through your body in response to that primal sound, your belly tightening and you want nothing more than to beg him to take you, or to leave altogether and let you take care of yourself - alone and apart, as you always have, but this time suffering from the rejection of the only alpha you've ever truly wanted.
Still, you force yourself to continue.
"B-but then you introduced as an Alpha and I as an Omega and everything changed. I pulled away because you didn't seem like the same Aemond I knew. You had changed. You were quieter, more mysterious, darker. You didn't invite me to go to the library or to fly with you and Vhagar. You pushed me away. I-I didn't know how to deal with it, it felt like a wall had been built between us and I didn't know how to deal with it...walking away was the easiest way, I guess. But I never, I swear I never forgot...I just-"
You didn't realize you had started to cry. Then everything you had said just hit you like a punch in the stomach. How exposed you had left yourself to him, open and raw as a nerve. But there was no going back.
"If you don't want me, that's okay. I-I'll deal with it. But I need you to know that it's not just the heat, Aemond."
You end with an almost anguished sound, another storm of emotions rising up inside your chest, too strong to be repressed. Your hands release their grip on the upholstery to move restlessly up to the scent glands on your neck, scratching and clawing at the sensitive, pulsing skin with a degree of desperation that only makes your true feelings clear. Everything hurts, everything burns, everything screams for relief, for large hands and sharp teeth. The Alpha's scent so close, yet so far away...
You're going crazy as he remains silent and it's almost like torture, his presence becoming both a delight and a punishment for your omega. The next wave of heat hits so intense that it makes every hair on your body stand on, a shock of cold and extreme heat on your flushed skin. You bite your lip hard to stop from moaning, legs squeezing together to ease the aching throb in your clit - the torturous emptiness of having nothing inside your body when it's all it's needs.
"P-please, if you don't...if it's not what you want...leave me alone. I need to be alone now Aemond-"
“I always know when your heat is here —” he cuts you off in a calm voice, his nostrils flaring slightly as he inhales deeply; a husky, appreciative sound vibrating in his throat as he allows himself to feel you properly for the first time all night. He enters your chamber with careful steps after that, but it’s the sight of his hand splayed on the wood of the door that makes you feel like you could faint right there; thick veins beneath pale skin, fingers long and elegant, adorned with thin, regal rings. You hold your gaze there as he gently pushes the wood shut with an audible click that makes you shiver in response, heart thundering in your chest.
He’s here, in your place. Just the two of you. The Alpha is here.
“No matter how much your mother, your maids, and the Guards do their best to hide you in this secluded chamber, I can always tell when you’re in heat. Even from across the Red Keep I can still smell you — warm, buttery, sweet as vanilla and cinnamon; like something that just come out of the oven, familiar and comforting like home. Like you belong to me —”
Aemond’s bright gaze is fixed on yours, watching you with predatory focus, like a carnivore about to sink its teeth into the tender flesh of a poor deer. Your chest tightens. Instantly, it’s as if an imaginary rug has been pulled out from under you and you’re weightless, even sitting as you are. The moment stretches between you like caramel, tantalizing and promisingly sweet. You arch your back and undulate your hips against the soft upholstery, as if that will soothe the itch. Instead, it spreads across your abdomen like a cloud of fire. You shiver and moan.
“I hear you crying, screaming as your heat is at in peak, begging for a knot. The whole damn Red Keep can hear it, sweetheart.” You’re panting and very, very aware of the slick slide of your poor cunt sandwiched between your thighs as you moves in restless undulations, of the blood roaring in your ears, and of the hungry look in Aemond’s eye, whose pupil is so dilated that his eye, once a pale shade of violet, is almost entirely black. He breathes very slowly, savoring the increasingly intense pheromones you exude. "Aegon usually runs to a brothel whenever you're in heat, as do most of the castle's Alpha Guards. But not me. I stay here...smelling your disturbing scent, enduring the miserable torture of hearing every muffled sound - fucking my cock between my fingers as I imagine doing this, giving in to your tearful plea. You have no fucking idea how many times I've had to stop myself from walking through these doors and giving you what you so desperately beg for, pup."
"Alpha," you sigh, cry. You've never called him that — or any other man directly — but the familiarity and naturalness tastes like molasses on your tongue now, and you repeat it helplessly. "Alpha…"
You could hear his harsh breathing, see his hands tightening into fists. He tried to hold back, but all you could think about was having him buried inside you. Having him rock his hips against you. "You were right, all this time. Ever since we received our designations I feel like something in me has changed. Sometimes it's like I have no control over this new side of me..."
Your breath hitches in your chest and you unconsciously lean into him, breathing him in. "W-what side?"
He sighs; hoarse, troubled. "This side that desperately wants to bend you and fill you until you're leaking with my seed, until the only scent that comes from you is mine...only mine. To sink my teeth into your soft flesh to claim you, to make everyone know who you belong to. It's maddening. It's dark. I'm constantly consumed by primal desires that scare even myself."
"Aemond," you beg, savoring the name, rolling it across your tongue like caramel.
He crouches on the floor, right in front of you, letting your heights equalize for the first time, both hands resting on your knee. You moan at that, tilting your head closer to him to breathe him in, letting the strong, warm, and safe scent of this alpha wash over you.
Your stomach tightens and you grip his arm tightly, bracing yourself, gasping as your inner muscles flex and spasm. Aemond strokes your knees with his thumbs as you shiver. The weight of his hand on you is equal parts comforting and tempting.
You were in the prime of your life and you were going to die.
There was no other explanation for the way your heart was beating fast, like a rabbit’s, at the way he lingered on your skin — at the way Aemond remained still and stared at you, in a way that, frankly, would have been quite flattering if it weren’t for the way his nostrils kept flaring.
“I’m sorry for putting you through this,” you truly did, but you also felt like you couldn’t take it anymore, “but I want you so much, Aemond. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Don’t be. I want you too,” he growled, leaning down to whisper against your ear, his nose gently brushing the curve of your neck. "So fucking much."
Submission was instantaneous then, without the slightest hint of reluctance or rebellion. Your neck tilts back, throat exposed to the alpha, letting him nuzzle your scent gland and inhale deeply, whimpering happily at having him there, his warm, familiar scent enveloping you safely. Omega condescending. But it’s more than that. Omega eager, the scent of your heat intensifying, overflowing between your thighs, which open instinctively as he encloses you with his hands braced on the sofa, and your happy little cry turns into a needy mewl.
His nose slowly moves up to caress your face, gently nudging the curve of your cheekbone. “Can I kiss you? Fuck, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for years.”
You nod enthusiastically against him before he even finishes the question, your eyes closing as his sweet, warm breath blows across your lips. You’ve dreamed of kissing him too, ever since you could remember.
The first touch of his lips against yours was like coming home, so right and so familiar that it almost scared you, if only the heat haze wasn’t disorienting your mind.
You wanted to enjoy it more, to take it slow, but by all the gods, the level of desperation in your body was unhealthy.
Your lips open like a flower beneath the alpha, hands gripping those long, silky silver strands, pulling him closer and closer. Feeling his jaw move rhythmically beneath your fingers as he opens and closes his mouth to lick your tongue, catching your bottom lip between his teeth in a teasing bite. Your legs swing to wrap around his waist, pressing inch by delicious inch of your bodies together. You moan into his mouth, feeling your pussy rub indiscreetly against the hard planes of his stomach, blood rushing to your groin as sticky moisture flows dramatically from your intimacy.
Aemond was perfect, you swore the alpha tasted like chocolate and wine on your tongue, that he felt like heaven against your fingertips. You could smell the arousal in the air, the way he growled into your wet kisses, and the way his large hand clenched in the fabric of your dress on your thigh.
He nestles his hands between your ass and the upholstery, helping your hips sway against his body, not wanting to let you go. His gorgeous, dilated gaze flickers to you as he breaks the kiss, gently kissing your tear-stained cheek.
“Sweetheart…tell me you accept my claim,” he demands in an eager tone, tracing the soft skin of your jaw with his lips to brush the nape of your neck again, where your swollen scent gland burns and throbs. The gentle pressure of his lips there has you squirming, practically melting into his strong hands. “I need you to understand what I’m asking. Please, focus on me, omega.”
You nod, tears weighing down your lashes. “I do, I do. It’s always been just you. Please, Aemond!”
He pulls back at this, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his pale skin as his breathing becomes shallower. His scent seems to increase, overwhelming every inch of your chamber with his pheromones. Running the tip of his tongue over his upper teeth, you see a glint of his slightly elongated incisors. The golden ring at the rim of his eye. His body, no doubt, reacting to the omega’s pheromones, pushing him into his own rut. You feel like you can vibe to this, the omega pleased to know he has this effect on the alpha.
“A-alpha, it hurts,” you whisper.
“Shhh, I got you, love,” he soothes you, though he’s losing control himself, gently nuzzling your noses together. “Put your arms around my neck. That’s it, good girl.”
He stands with you wrapped around him, carrying you toward the four-poster bed. The thin silk of your skirts soaks where his forearm braces your thighs.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet.” Aemond barely holds back a rough groan as his lips come close to your ear, clearly enjoying the way your body is already ready for him. His knot. You whimper, licking the salt from his throat and moaning. You try to straddle his waist once more, try to lower yourself and bend over, feel the thick, hard line of his cock, the bulge of the knot you know is already forming.
You barely realize you’re being placed on the bed. You barely notice his fingers undoing the knots of your corset and pulling the delicate fabric of your dress off your body. You barely notice the gentle words he whispers in your ear, the praises for your omega. The haze of heat takes over your mind and leaves you adrift, confused, needy. It's all a blur of desperate pleas and crying.
It's only when his body, naked and as absurdly heated as yours, lies on top of you that some coherence returns. The sensation of his feverish skin on yours makes you shiver all over, your cheeks burning - although you can't tell if it's just from the heat or the embarrassment of feeling him like this.
He looms large over you, as alphas tend to be, but in a way that makes you feel secure rather than intimidated. His lean, elegant muscles tense endlessly beneath his soft skin, the flames of the fireplace bathing his pale, sweaty complexion in a beautiful orange glow. The tips of his hair slide hypnotically over your skin, sending shivers down your spine with each contact.
"There she is..." he shivers with satisfaction when he feels the heat allow some of your consciousness to return, his hand wrapping around the delicate curve of your jaw to drag you into a feral kiss while he presses your body against his as if he would die without it. Rut, your confused mind answers. He is falling too. And yet, you were still empty and needy. 
"N-no nest...there is no nest, Alpha...I couldn't make it...I didn't know, I d-didn't have time - please, I'm so sorry -" You stammer between gasps and sobs on your lips, your omega dissatisfied with not having a nest where the Alpha could curl up comfortably with you, let his knot sink in and keep you warm and safe throughout your heat.
"You're such a good omega, worrying about this..." he mumbles, kissing your chin and jaw, his hands fidgeting at your sides. "But it's okay, love. Your heat will last for days and I'm not going anywhere. We'll have time. We'll use the breaks between heat waves and I'm sure you'll make the most comfortable, cozy nest for us. I can't wait to see it, omega. Promise you'll make a good nest for your Alpha?"
"Yes, yes! I'll make the best nest, alpha..."
"Yeah you will, my good girl..."
When his mouth reaches your glans on your neck again, you know it's red and raised, waiting for him to touch it. 
"Stay still baby," he whispers and you're not sure if he's talking to you or to himself.
His first lick against that spot hits you right in the heart. Your breath is ragged with each press of his tongue, and you can’t help the small purr that escapes your chest. When he growls in response to the sound, vibrations coursing through your glans, your hands grip his broad shoulders in desperation.
“Please, gods, please—alpha, please!” Your skin is feverish and taut, tight as a coiled spring, and you need…more. Your hips roll upward, and at the feel of him hard and solid and huge against your core, you almost come right there. Your wrists move, one behind his ear and the other toward the top of his shoulder, and you rub them subtly against his skin, the only thought in your head is for him to smell like you.
“Alpha, please—” That needy plea seems to be enough to rob Aemond of what little control he has left. He wraps those soft lips around the glans and sucks hard, making your eyes roll to the back of your head, your entire body trembling and flushing with heat.
“Omega,” he growls into your drooling skin, his primal instincts kicking in harder than a sword blow, thrusting his wet cock into your belly. “Tell me what you need.”
You barely blink before begging. “Fill me, please.” Your fingers tangle in the leather of his eye patch, pulling it away so you can take in the full extent of your alpha’s immaculate beauty as he takes you. The turquoise stone glows for only a few seconds before you sink your fingers into his silky hair, guiding his mouth back to yours, pulling him in for another heated, hurried kiss.
And with that touch of his lips, you both lose yourselves. With a guttural sound that goes straight between your legs, Aemond is everywhere.
A large hand is on your neck, his thumb pressing against your chin, opening your mouth for him as his tongue meets yours. Using his other hand, you feel the gentle pressure of a finger against your swollen, throbbing clit, eliciting a cry from your mouth clamped to his. You’re lifting your hips, stroking your own tongue against his as he rolls your clit on his thumb, his cock sliding against your hip again and again, leaving your skin wet with pre-cum.
It’s all a cacophony of sensations, too much and not enough. It’s magnificent, but not what you need.
What you need is him, right now. 
Gods, you wanted to enjoy this moment, this first time, savor every touch, every new sensation, every taste and smell, but you both knew that you were at the height of this unexpected heat. Anything other than him inside you at this moment would only be torture for your body and your needs. You sob with desire on his lips, tears streaming down your face as your arousal reaches a level beyond painful; unbearable.
He pulls his face away from yours.
Pupil dilated and his tongue darting out to wet those sinful lips, flushed and swollen from your kisses.     
Hungry. 
He looks hungry. 
"Y/N," he says breathlessly, dropping the designations for a moment, even giving up his own rut-driven instincts, to call you by name, and your eyes widen in response, pupils dilated like an endless abyss. "Do you want my knot? Is that what you need right now, baby?" You hold his gaze with a lucidity that no longer exists, but unconsciously understanding the seriousness of this moment.
"Please, please, I'm going to go crazy if you don't do this. I need it, Aemond. Now."
His growl vibrates in his chest and through yours, making you moan in response and wrap your legs around his waist. Your pussy is absolutely soaked with your own arousal. You had never produced so much fluids before, even during your heats. On the other hand, you had never had an alpha promise to give you his knot before.
Something itches in your mind, driving you to present yourself to him now, whispering for you to turn your body and let him take you from behind, this position would be better - more chances of a successful knot. Instinct, obviously, since you wouldn’t have any previous experience to draw on. And you almost do, placing your hands on his shoulders to push him away. The turn, however, is interrupted by large hands on the sides of your waist, firm but still gentle as he keep you lying with him between your legs.
You frown at him in confusion.
“Please, no. Not this time.” He whispers feverishly, leaning his sweaty forehead against yours, breath puffing across your parted lips. “I know instinct tells you otherwise, just as they are telling me, but I want to see your face. I need to see your eyes as I take you for the first time, sweetheart.”
It’s not an order. Not exactly. It’s more of a request than anything else. But you obey anyway, captivated by his need to have you in this way, for his strength in resisting his own Alpha's demands and take you the way he, the men, wants.
Warming up to the desperate cadence of your low mewls, he lines his hardened member up toward your center, your omega more than ready for this. The tip pokes a few times into your soaked folds, seeking warmth as he settles himself.
It’s an almost sacred moment, even in the haze of heat.
The chamber goes silent as he enters you for the first time, thrusting inside, slowly and steady, one hand coming up to the side of your face, the other gripping your hip possessively, his gaze locked on yours. Your hearts beat in sync, the fierce need to be joined to each other growing like a wildfire. The head of his cock barely enters before the world simply stops. He begins to rock his hips, slowly at first, so slowly that it’s almost provocative, but it’s delicious and cathartic, and you never want it to end.
Besides his hungry gaze on yours, the second thing your drunken brain registers is that it doesn’t hurt.
First time penetration should hurt, right? You’ve never had sex before, obviously, but you know that the first time should be uncomfortable, at the least. However, your body accepts him with easy submission, with your own abundant sticky wetness easing the way, and all you can feel is the same relief that his arms offer, the smell of him. You moan between teeth, satisfied, and reach out to grip his arm as he thrusts into you, feeling the muscles ripple under your touch. He groans your name once more and his erection pulses against your walls.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he demands. “Tell me you’ve kept that perfect pussy for me all this time.” 
Of course you were his. The fact hadn’t always pleased you, but you’d known that since you were children and running through the halls of the Red Keep. You always knew you were made for him, and you held on to that bitter dream even when you tried to pull away from him. So it was only natural to let your animal instinct take over, exposing the truth as if it were the only thing that mattered.
“I’m yours, Aemond. I’ve always been yours.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. "Only yours."
“F-fuck,” he stutters, your pussy greedy and desperate as it molds itself to accommodate him. “You’re going so well for me, pup. Such a good little omega.”
His lips press against your cheek as he pants, struggling to hold himself together as he feels the full length of his cock inside your folds. And you sense that this is your weakness. Green apples and parchment, flames and dragon scales. He’s warm and comforting, fitting between your legs like he belongs there, like you’re his home. It’s divine how you mold yourself to accommodate him. Easy, as if it were a normal thing, and you had done this together a thousand times before.
Aemond takes a deep, shuddering breath.
And then he begins to thrust. Slowly.
You were soaked and desperate, but Aemond was an Alpha and, well, you were a virgin just a few minutes ago. His restraint was understandable. But you wanted more, needed everything he could give you...
You didn’t realize you were speaking out loud until he answered. “I’ll give you. Fuck, I’ll give you anything you want, baby. I’m yours.” His voice took on a deep, husky tone that sent goosebumps across your skin. “But I need to make sure you’re ready first.”
You whimper. “I can take it,” you promise. “Come on, Alpha. Make me yours!”
Aemond’s large body trembled with the restraint of going slow, his muscles contracting restlessly beneath your fingers. At your words, he groans and suddenly thrusts deep. The air rushes from your lungs, and you dig your nails into his back, gripping tightly as your body struggles to adjust to the massive intrusion.
He pulls back to get a better look at your face, to make sure you’re not uncomfortable. And by the gods, you’re not. Your omega rolls over and shows the belly, satisfied and purring, vibrating with joy at finally having his alpha take you. His thrusts don’t stop, his gaze never leaving yours.
“Fuck, fuck, you’re so beautiful, omega, so fucking beautiful. So good for me, pup.”
Your eyelids flutter with the long, delicious drag as he pulls out, pussy clenching his cock like it doesn’t want to let go, and the emptiness he leaves hurts, no matter how quickly he pulls away. Then he thrusts back in and you breathe once more.
“Yes!” you cry out, wrapping your arms and legs around him, clinging to his lean but strong body. “More, Alpha. Please!”
Aemond curses and then sets a steady, pulsing rhythm in his hips. Each entry was slow, each thrust back hard and intense. He fucked you like he flying on Vhagar’s back: confident and assertive, teetering on the edge of control but never losing it. The extent of his control was crystal clear as he breathed into your lips, his gaze keeping yours, his forehead sweaty and his eyebrows furrowed, even as you shuddered and moaned and clawed at his back.
You were wetter than you’d ever been, drops running down between your thighs to soak the sheets. The sounds of your joining were loud and filthy, filling your chamber with moans and growls, the wet, rhythmic slapping of skin on skin, and the harder he went, the more animalistic you both became. You were soon moaning and sobbing with every thrust, while he grunts and growls in your face.
When he swallowed hard, his gaze was, without any choice, drawn to his throat; the Adam’s apple bobbing, the veins high in his neck, his scent glands. He nods at your gaze, and you’re suddenly overcome with the need to touch him — to taste him.
You lean forward and place your mouth over his gland, alternating your tongue and lips between sucking and licking the heated skin, panting into his skin in time with his thrusts. He groans, broken and hoarse, his hips slowing to fuck you less hard, more slowly.
“Y/N, fuck, I need—”
He’s worryingly heated against you, his own rut peaking, silver strands of hair sticking to his sweaty face.  
“Me too, Aemond...I need it so bad it hurts,” you cry, pressing your face against his scent gland, breathing hard. He nods, settling into a rhythm that, while less frenetic than it was a moment ago, is brutal in its intensity. Your thighs tremble around his waist, though Aemond is definitely the one doing the heavy lifting. His knot nudges against your pussy, pressing, clamping, and pushing against your entrance with each thrust.
“I can feel you getting close,” he whispers in your ear. “Do you want to come in my knot, pup?”
Your head falls back and you moan loudly as he hits you again, and again, hard and stand, and you’re right on the edge — close enough that you can feel your orgasm building in your lower back, threatening to overtake you at any second.
Yes, yes, yes, your omega cries out in response to his question. It’s all you want, all you need. To come with the Alpha’s knot inside you.
“Yes,” you sob. “Please!” 
As his knot begins to force itself inside you, everything becomes shockingly clear. You know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were made for this. To take his knot, to sit on it, to come and clench around him until he paints your insides with his seed.
“Oh, good girl, almost there—” His voice grows lower, rougher, darker. “Yeah, that’s it, spread those pretty legs a little wider and let me—fuck, yeah, that’s it, puppy—”
Your purpose is singular now, as his knot stretches your entrance. He forces your opening almost to the point of pain, even as wet and stretched as it already is, but biology is on your side. You strain for his next thrust, and with a searing ecstasy, you feel his knot push a little deeper inside you.
The next movement, like everything else tonight, is guided only by instinct and basic need. You hold the back of his neck, guiding his lips to the junction of your neck and shoulder, tears streaming down the sides of your face until its soak the sheets.
"P-please, make me yours, Alpha. In every way."
Aemond sighs longly on your skin, leaving wet kisses there, his breath warm and tense. His body is so intimately attached to yours that each thrust makes your breasts drag against the hard planes of his chest, teasing your sensitive nipples. Each undulation of his hips rubs your throbbing clit against the trimmed hair of his pelvis. It is torture, the most delicious torture.
"You're going to fucking kill me, love." He half smiles half growls, gently nipping at your shoulder, just a shadow of what you really wanted from him there. You grip him tighter, frowning as you mewl dissatisfiedly through your teeth.
He silences your mumbled protests with whispers of your name and designation, intoned in an encouraging tone against your skin as he guides you closer and closer, and you feel your thighs tremble around his hips as you prepare to be pulled under. Your toes clench, body ready to jump into the waters that threaten to drown you, all you need to do is let yourself sink. Let your body surrender to what you were designed to do.
“Come for me, Y/N,” he growls into your shoulder, the vibrations coursing through your body, his fingers digging into your hips, leaving marks on your skin that your omega accepts with pleasure. “Come for your Alpha and then I'll give you my knot, I swear.”
And with that encouragement, you submit completely. The command to surrender to the pleasure was all your body needed. A primal scream rips from your throat, and your body shudders beneath his. Your pussy clench around his cock, desperate and needy for what only he could give you. And it’s nothing like cumming with your own fingers.
Aemond, feeling your walls tighten around him, thrusts harder; a long groan through his teeth before biting down hard on your shoulder, his sharp incisors tearing the skin until you’re screaming. Despite the shock of pain, your fingers dig into the back of his neck, pushing his face into the bite, wanting more. He growls at this, thrusting his hips forward one last time, burying his cock deep as his knot finally expands inside your pussy, locking him in place and joining you together.
Your spine arches, your breasts pushing against his chest with a long, broken groan that seems to escape straight from your core, your body clenching around his cock before contracting almost painfully. Aemond grunts, nearly falling on top of you as he shoots inside your pussy, filling your insides with his cum.
Entire galaxies shimmer behind your eyes as a second orgasm rips through you, just by the sensation of it being his, irrefutably. And you cling to your Alpha as he graces you with slow, shallow thrusts, his seed filling you beyond your limit. You can almost feel it filling your womb, spilling from your core and dripping down from where your bodies join to coat the sheets beneath you.
He licks your raw flesh when he releases you, whispering praise as he wipes away the blood dripping down your skin, and the throbbing in his cock begins to slow.
But though your orgasms are over for now, you know you’ll stay glued together until his knot comes undone. Your arms tighten around his shoulders until he sags, letting the weight of his body collapse onto yours, and you savor the comfort of being smothered by him. Your omega purrs, rubbing your cheek against his sweaty shoulder, trying to cover yourself with as much of his musk as possible.
The chamber is silent, except for both heavy breathings and the crackling of the fireplace.
It takes you a moment to recover. Your mind is drunk but relaxed, satisfied. And then a hand slides down your arm, broad and warm and absolutely everything you need. He takes your hand in his, so small and fragile in comparison, noting how both are trembling before lowering his lips and placing a kiss on your knuckles.
Your eyes open into lazy slits at the feeling and it’s only after what feels like an eternity that you realize it’s raining; thunder rumbles around the castle as flashes of light illuminate your chamber through the windows. But you don’t feel afraid. Because inside you are warm and safe beneath your Alpha. You both gasp together as he locks his gaze with yours, his lips swollen and a little red with your blood. An unspoken question flashes across his expression, the tops of his cheeks flushed and his skin sweaty, his gaze beginning to return to its usual violet hue. You smile in response, something vague and lazy, but enough to show that everything is okay.
With a relieved nod, Aemond can’t help but gently stroke the damp hair stuck to your sweaty, flushed face, slipping an arm under your back to cradle your head with his other hand. “Good?” he asks, his voice hoarse and rough, punctuated by another small burst of semen that makes you shiver and laugh softly.
“You’re big,” you say, flexing slowly with a fragile sigh, eliciting a breathy laugh from him as well - his head turning in a weak reprimand, as if he doesn’t surprise with your cheeky response at a time like this.
When he rolls to the side, you hum happily as feel him wrap your body around him to bring you with him, still intimately embraced and joined by the knot. He lies on his side, arranging one of your legs over his hip, your head hidden in the crook of his neck. Both of you bracing yourself for the time it would take for his knot to deflate.
You feel completely exhausted, sated now that you’ve received what you needed from the Alpha. Your mind is clearer and more aware, finally letting the extent of what you’ve just done sink into your bones. But you know it won’t last long, another wave will soon arrive, your heat had only just begun and the days ahead would demand a lot from both of you.
“Shhh, just sleep, pup. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Aemond whispers into your hair as he feels your restlessness begin, a large, warm hand slowly running up and down the curve of your back and thigh in a soothing gesture, the other arm stretched out beneath your head to serve as a pillow. “I’ll take care of you from now on. Trust me.”
With those words your eyelids begin to grow heavy, the almost painful stretch of Aemond’s knot, still deeply trapped inside you, fading into a comfortable tingle. And with a sigh of relief, you allow yourself to snuggle closer to his body, his familiar scent now ingrained in every inch of your body, feeling protected and cared for - without any doubt that he would keep his promise. The soft throb of his bonding bite on your shoulder confirming it.
He is yours now. And you are his.
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xxsabitoxx · 2 years ago
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Pale Blue [Part One]
Geto Suguru x AFAB Pregnant Reader
READ PART TWO HERE
Warnings: THIS FIC IS CANON COMPLIANT, if you are not caught up on Jujutsu Kaisen's manga, or at the very least if you have not seen "gojo's past" you WILL be spoiled. This story contains darker themes, heavier topics, pregnancy and all the lovely details of it, and lastly explicit sexual content. Read at your own risk!
A/N: Here it is!! Part One!! This fic is super self indulgent for me and I'm very excited for y'all to read it. The idea literally came to me in a dream like a month ago and I woke up and immediately started writing. It's been a long ass time since I've written a plot heavy fic, and it's been well over a year since I've actively planned a multiple part story and gone through with it. So, this fic is kinda like... my baby lol.
Word Count: 19k | Playlist
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September 2007
Your mouth felt like chalk, hands trembling ever so slightly as you set the small wand on the countertop in your bathroom. You couldn't think straight, but that unfortunately wasn’t anything new, it had been that way for the last three weeks. Ever since he left, you had felt like your head was stuck in a fishbowl. People eyeing you with pity at the world you had been dropped into, their whispers muffled into incoherent nonsense as you walked by. Satoru was no better off, but he could at least tug his emotions off of his sleeves and place them in his heart where nobody could see them, except for you. At least you would be able to see them if he didn’t shut you out. 
Not that you had been any kinder, you had withdrawn too. 
The only one who seemed alright was Shoko, her reaction to Suguru’s deflection was nothing out of character. Not many things could shock her to her core, even something as absurd as what Suguru had done couldn’t wipe the gentle smile from her face when she saw him again. You envied her for that level of composure. You envied her for getting to see him again, just as you envied Satoru. For some reason, the man evaded you as if you were the plague. Or perhaps it looked like you were merely chasing after a ghost, a figment of your imagination. You kind of wished that it was true, that Geto Suguru had been someone you conjured up in your mind. 
But he wasn’t, he was a real, breathing human who had taken over one hundred lives…. Including his parents. The thought made your mouth taste like metal, everytime you zoned out too long and thought too hard, you’d bite your inner cheek until it bled. Three weeks later you still felt like you were moving on autopilot, the only thing that could pull you out of it would be his gentle embrace. You blinked a bit, the metallic taste coating your tongue as you unclench your jaw and look in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself, for a moment  you think you look just like him, and it's enough to steal the little air you had in your lungs. 
You had never thought you'd experience a heartbreak as severe as this one, and you especially didn’t think it would be dealt to you by Suguru. Though you saw all of the signs, the hundreds if not thousands he put out and never let you touch. No, his cries for help were always directed at Satoru. The white haired man never seemed to catch them, and if he did, he never said a thing. Suguru had refused to acknowledge his issues when he was with you, no matter how many times you tried to sit him down and get it out. He’d change the subject and move on. 
He’d sweet-talk you, making you forget why you had been so concerned in the first place because there, for a fleeting moment, was the boy you had fallen in love with two years prior. He’d fill your mind with nothing but good things, pretty noises, good feelings. Not stopping until his name was all you could utter, not stopping until you fell asleep in his arms, content and sedated. He was a master at avoidance, trying so hard to keep things perfect just for you. You were beginning to hate him for it, but even the idea of hating him made bile burn your throat. 
You were left in emotional turmoil, love mixing with hate mixing with rage and depression. No matter how many times the word hate flashed through your mind, it was never truly directed at Suguru. Rather the jujutsu world, the things they had forced upon him, the pressure he had been made to feel. You especially felt that bubbling hate for a certain man by the name of Fushiguro Toji, who caused this whole spiral. He was long gone now, Satoru had effectively put the man down and he would not be getting back up. Though it killed you to no end that he got the easy way out. You almost wished that Satoru had kept the man alive. 
You couldn’t stomach it as your back pressed into the cold wall of your bathroom, arms folded over your chest as you stared at nothing in particular. Eyes refusing to focus on anything of importance but making a point to avoid the developing test on the counter. 
Suguru had left you a note, shortly after his final conversation with Satoru. You had returned to your dorm to see it on your bed and you recognized his handwriting before you even read your name on the envelope. You could still feel your hands trembling as you ripped the paper, flinching as it cut your skin, crumbling as tears dripped down your cheeks. You read it three times before finally comprehending the words, the paper littered with tear drops and your blood. Every word was written with care, you could hear his voice as your eyes passed over each sentence, see his face before you as if he was speaking. 
It was an apology, his resolve and a goodbye all in one. Leaving you more empty than you had felt before. Still, it sat on your nightstand, you couldn’t throw it away. As if his sweaters weren’t still hanging in your closet, like the blanket he got you wasn’t still sitting on your bed. You held onto that letter like it was the last thing you had of him. Mourning him as if he had died, like he wasn’t still alive and breathing and walking around within the very city you were in now. You almost thought it would be easier if he had died. At least you’d feel some sort of closure, knowing he’s not coming back. But this, this was a form of torture for you. 
To know that you could bump into him at a restaurant, or even pass him on a busy street. He wasn’t gone, if anything he was doing better than he ever was. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and everyone else behind to pick up the shattered pieces. Still, you couldn’t hate him for that. No amount of anger would mend the torn pieces of your broken heart. You were fairly certain nothing would, the only cure was the one man you could no longer call your own. You’d spend the rest of your life with your heart ripped wide, an empty void filling the space. 
You inhaled deeply, pushing off the bathroom wall and taking a hesitant step towards the counter. The test was upside down, you couldn’t see the small little window that would show you the results, for a moment you wanted to pick it up and throw it in the trash without even looking. There was nothing stopping you from doing so either, but you held back anyways. The only reason you were taking a pregnancy test in the first place was because your period was two weeks late. You could easily chalk it up to stress, but at the same time you knew all too well that you and Suguru often went without protection. Idiot. 
Somehow, despite his inner battles, Suguru’s sex drive never slowed down. Maybe it was the craving for physical touch or maybe sex was a great way for him to forget about his issues for a while. Regardless, you had always been eager to oblige, even if it meant falling into his traps and luring your attention away from the real issue at hand. You had no idea how long it had been and if the damn thing was positive you were sure it would show up by now. So you picked it up and flipped it over in your hand, tired eyes scanning it. Your forehead creased for a moment, eyes squinting in frustration because you couldn’t tell if there was a second line or not. 
If it’s positive, it's too early to tell. Your grip tightens around the small plastic test, anger flooding your heart as you chuck it in the trash can with such force it rattles as it hits the wall. Once again you are left with uncertainty. It seemed nobody could give you a straight answer anymore. Truth be told, you weren’t sure what you wanted that test to say. The thought of being pregnant with his child would have elated you two months ago. Now the thought made your insides twist and turn, for a moment you thought you were going to puke again. At the very same time, the idea of the test being negative felt like a rug being pulled out from under you. 
As if you didn’t know that feeling well enough. 
In a twisted way, you thought that being pregnant would bring him back to you. As if it would erase every heinous crime he had committed and bring the man you loved back into your arms. You were foolish, but not foolish enough to really believe in those daydreams. You hauled yourself out of your bathroom and back into your dorm room, falling into your disheveled bed with a soft thump. His t-shirt was hanging loosely on your body, it still smells faintly of him. It’s the only shirt of his that you’d been wearing, too afraid to lose his scent on the others. 
It was still early enough for you to sleep for a few more hours before Shoko was knocking on your door and hauling you into the world. You hated it, but she assured you that you’d thank her for it in a couple months. You doubted it, and for some reason you felt like she did too. 
Your sleep was dreamless, it had been since Suguru left you. You weren’t quite sure if you were thankful for that or not. Suguru was still the last thing you thought about before falling asleep and the first thing you thought of when you woke up. His absence consumed your every thought, impossible to ignore, unable to forget. There had been a few tough nights where you dragged yourself down the hall towards Satoru’s room. The man was usually still up, sitting on his bed with a book in hand that you could tell he wasn’t reading. Just an attempt at distraction. 
He welcomes you without a word, scooting over a bit so you could sit beside him, head on his shoulder as he tosses the book to the floor. You remain like that until you fall asleep, no words spoken but nothing needed to be verbalized to understand you were both mourning the loss of a man who wasn’t even dead. In an odd way, you felt as if you were mourning Satoru as well. His smile, his jokes, the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, all of those things had dwindled. To his credit, he was managing to pull himself back together, at least better than you had been. 
A harsh knock at your door signaled that Shoko was there. You hadn’t even realized that you fell asleep, but you felt even more groggy than you had a couple hours prior. “I’m up.” It’s hoarse and unconvincing but you hear Shoko utter a small “ok”. You know she’s still there, she always waits for you to get dressed and emerge from your room yourself. If you make her wait any longer than fifteen minutes she's usually barging in herself to pull you from your bed. Your body aches as you sit up, stumbling across the room to the bathroom because you need to pee yet again. 
The air almost feels stale as you get your routine done in the bathroom, the test is still sitting in the small can beside your sink. It’s presence is heavy, to the point you question if you should take it out with you despite only having a couple tissues accompanying it. You decided against it when she knocked again. “Just getting dressed.” You mumbled softly, listening for her small “Hmph.” At least letting you know she heard you. Your uniform still felt foreign on your skin, it had for the last three weeks but you tried to ignore it. “About time.” Shoko smiled as you emerged, Satoru beside her. “Oh? You’re both here?” Your tone was questioning but not mad. 
“Yeah, Yaga said we should take the day to be normal or something like that.” Satoru drawled, circular glasses sliding down his nose as he rolled his eyes. “Us? Normal?” You snorted, pulling your door shut as Shoko began walking down the hallway. “He just doesn’t know what to do with us at the moment.” Satoru offered in a low tone, Shoko would scold him for speaking like that, especially to you. The thing is, he wasn’t saying anything that you hadn’t already thought of yourself. “I don’t know what to do with us either.” You could assume Yaga was being vigilant, the guilt of not seeing what was happening with Suguru was weighing on him too. 
The flick of Shoko’s lighter was heard as you stepped into the morning air, laughter bubbling in your chest as you looked at her. “It was killing you, wasn’t it.” Yaga had been cracking down on her bad habit, trying to limit her by saying no smoking in the dorms. “Just a little.” She teased back, inhaling deeply before blowing the gray smoke past her lips. “Shoko, gimme one.” Your eyebrow cocked as Satoru stuck his hand out. Her eyes met you for a moment before begrudgingly handing the lighter and pack to him. “New habit?” You commented softly, watching as he stuck a cylinder between his lips and held his hand up to block the flame from the wind. 
Satoru shrugged, inhaling a bit before blowing out, moving to hand the pack to you. You hesitated, the test in your dorm trash can still lingering in the back of your mind. “I’m good.” You took them anyway, handing them to Shoko. Neither of them said anything but they shared a knowing glance, they couldn’t be mad at you for trying to quit a bad habit. “So where are we going?” You didn’t like the prolonged silence as the two of them puffed away. “I didn’t think you’d want to go anywhere, but if you want we can go get breakfast.” Shoko’s eyes flickered over both you and Satoru, as if she was looking at two temperamental children. 
“Breakfast sounds good.” Satoru offered, shoving one hand in his pocket while the other plucked the cig from his lips. “It does.” You added softly, stomach turning at the very thought of food but you couldn’t let them know that. You had lost your appetite shortly after he left, but you still forced yourself to eat at least one substantial meal a day. The nausea that had settled in your gut most days usually deterred you from anything else but plain rice and maybe some soup. Still, it was food and the only thing you could keep down at that. “Alright, I’ll call for a driver and we can go get something to eat.” Shoko pulled out her phone, clicking on a number she saved. 
“You’ve been eating, right?” You jumped a little, eyes sliding over to Satoru. His tone was low, just low enough for only you to hear. “Yeah, I’ve been eating… you?” He looked the same, tall and lean with broad shoulders. Satoru nodded, pushing his glasses up to sit on the bridge of his nose. “The car will be at the gates for us in five minutes so let's get going.” Shoko started walking, like always you and Satoru followed behind her like ducklings. Satoru’s question still lingered in your mind, his ability to read your thoughts nearly rivaled Suguru. 
You had to wonder just how much those six eyes of his could see. 
The three of you clamored into the car, Satoru taking the passenger seat while you and Shoko took the back. You had no idea where you were going, not even when Shoko gave an address to the driver. It was somewhere in the city, you knew that much, but you trusted her judgment and prayed they would have something plain for your stomach. None of you spoke as the car barreled forward, your eyes glued to the surroundings zipping past you, as if you’d catch him walking down the street on a busy morning. You knew you’d always be looking for him, everywhere you went, your eyes would search for him. 
You tore your eyes from the window, glancing at Satoru in the passenger seat. You couldn’t see his eyes, but his head was turned towards the window. If you had to guess, he was doing the very same thing. Looking for someone who would never appear. Unless you were Shoko of course, you still felt your throat tighten at the thought. You knew Suguru had chosen to reveal himself to her for a couple reasons. One being that she wasn’t nearly strong enough to take him down single handedly. The other being her easy going nature, he knew there would be little to no conflict or questions to answer with her. If roles were reversed, you’d do the same. 
“Hello?” You blinked, looking at Shoko with parted lips. “You okay?” her head tilted, brown eyes lingering over your features. “I… yeah.” You swallowed, the car was still moving so you didn’t space out for that long. “What are you in the mood to eat?” She repeated the question she had asked seconds prior while you were clearly on another plane of existence. “Something plain.” You offered lamely, hands clasping together in your lap. “Plain?” Satoru questioned, eyes shifting to look at you through the rearview mirror. “My stomach has been sensitive. Plain foods are all I can really get down right now.” You shrunk into the seat. 
Shoko hummed, eyes observing you intently now. You could almost hear her silently listing all of your physical symptoms, noting in her head the various things that could cause them. Most could be answered with heartbreak, but that didn’t typically make you sensitive to certain foods. Shoko and Satoru knew of Suguru's relationship with you. They knew you were serious about each other, that you often slept in the other’s dorm depending on the day. They knew you went on dates and bought each other gifts. They knew you had long since confessed your love to one another and were not strangers to holding hands when you thought nobody was looking. 
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the two of you slept together as well. 
~
“Quiet.” You sunk your teeth into the side of your cheek, struggling to stifle your noises as Suguru’s fingers curled inside of your tight heat. “You don’t want them to hear us, right?” he cooed again, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he pressed you harder into the empty desk, nearly pushing it into the wall of the classroom with the ferocity of his hunger. 
You shook your head, not trusting your voice in that moment to make any coherent sounds. Your nails dug into his bicep, legs splayed hazardously over the sides of the desk as you used your free hand to brace yourself. Two fingers continued to plunge in and out of you, curling perfectly and sucking the air from your lungs as he found that one particular spot. 
Suguru watched in fascination, dark eyes glazed over as they flickered between his hand and your face. Each draw back revealed the slick shine of your arousal on his digits, each push forward was accompanied by a squelch. It made his throat tight, arousal making him feel hot all over as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. 
“Sugu…” You choked, face warming considerably as you realized how desperate you sounded. “Hmm?” a gentle hum, his fingers burying deep and massaging your walls until your thighs twitched. “I need you.” Your head fell back, hand leaving his bicep to slap over your mouth in an attempt to silence the cry that left you. “You…need me?” 
Those words were jarring to him, as if a chain of firecrackers had been ignited under his skin. You nodded, helpless and at his mercy as you prayed Satoru and Shoko wouldn’t wander off to figure out where the two of you had gone. You couldn’t quite comprehend what happened next, the sudden retreat of his fingers left you feeling empty, clearing your foggy mind for a second. 
They were quickly replaced with something else, something wet and soft. Your eyes widened considerably when you looked down to see Suguru on his knees, hands gripping the plush of your thighs with his face buried between. He would have given you more if it weren't for his damn pants, he was too impatient to struggle with the high waisted fashion choices he made. 
You couldn’t think again, mind immediately fogging over as you focused solely on Suguru’s head between your legs. The flat of his tongue licking up your folds before delving further, bumping your clit with his nose and earning a strangled noise from you. You bit down on your fist now, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to silence yourself for a bit. 
Suguru didn’t mind, if anything he wanted them to hear you. He wanted to see the shocked look on Satoru’s face when he realized what was happening. He couldn’t lie, this whole rendezvous had started because of an offhand comment Satoru made. One about how he was likely better at pleasing women than Suguru. You knew that's why you were in here too, you felt like you needed to thank Satoru for pushing Suguru to this point, whether that was his intention or not. 
Heat continued to build in your gut, if you could trust yourself to stay balanced you would have let go of the desk and buried your hand in his hair. You wanted to tug the silky black locks from the confines of the bun he always kept them in, watch them cascade around his handsome face and turn messy because of your fingers. Then again, that may make it a little too obvious to your two awaiting friends. “Sugu…” 
You gasped, hand flying from your mouth to grab the desk as you nearly lost your balance. Suguru had started to stand, knocking you back as his arms wrapped around your lower half in a bear hug. Suguru was standing at his full height now, your knees bent over his shoulders while only your mid-back and shoulders pressed into the desk. You could have melted into a puddle the moment his eyes met yours, his mouth still pressed firmly to your cunt. 
“Suguru…” You choked again, hands moving to grip the sides of the desk for some kind of grounding. You could feel him smirk, eyes burning into yours as his tongue lavished you. It was all too much, too lewd, too risky. Your orgasm was building faster than you anticipated, the tingling arousal shooting down your spine and making your legs tense as he teased you. You came with a choked cry of his name, eyes squeezing shut as you rode out your orgasm. 
~
“We’re here.” You blinked, eyes scanning your surroundings as Satoru got out of the car. “Are you sure you’re okay? We can get the food to go and head back to campus.” Shoko’s words were out of concern but her tone was still relaxed. “I’m alright, I could use some time in a busy space.” You lied, the quiet of your dorm room had never sounded so inviting. “Thank you.” You muttered softly to the driver, his small smile told you he was well aware of what was going on. Satoru was already by the front door of the cafe, putting out the butt of his cigarette on a nearby trash can before dropping it in. Shoko did the same, following after you as you entered. 
Satoru’s looks tended to come in handy, his glasses sliding down his nose to show the startling blue of his eyes was all that was needed to get the three of you a seat and bypass the wait. “At least you’re good for something.” You teased him, watching him roll his eyes before smiling. “It’s my duty to get the two of you quick service and good food, even if I have to whore myself out.” For some reason, that had laughter bubbling in your chest, the genuine kind. “Such a noble sacrifice.” You laughed, the menu in your hand shaking as your shoulders bounced. You were too distracted to see the way Satoru’s shoulders seemed to sag in relief as he watched you, for a moment it was like nothing had changed.
If it weren't for the gaping, empty space in the booth beside him, he would have been convinced. 
“What are you going to get, Shoko?” She was the only one actively looking over the menu. “I’m not sure yet, but they do have some options that would be easy on your stomach.” You weren’t sure why but it made your heart ache just a bit, she had been more concerned over your meal than her own. At the very same time, it made you feel small, like you were a bit of a nuisance for having stomach issues… or whatever they were… in the first place. “Oh, alright.” You focused on the menu, aware of their eyes on you as you tried to find something small but appealing. You settled on tamagoyaki and asked for it to be made on the salty side rather than sweet. 
Shoko went for a traditional meal as well while Satoru ventured into their “western” cuisine. His choice sounded so sweet that the thought of it made your teeth hurt. “I don’t know how you do it, Satoru.” you sipped your tea slowly, letting the hot liquid slide down your throat and settle in your stomach. He only shrugged, smiling softly “I’ve yet to find something too sweet for me to handle.” Normally he would have added something flirty but he decided against it. Despite knowing you and Suguru were a couple, it never stopped Satoru’s flirtatious comments. It only bothered Suguru a little bit but he knew his best friend would never cross that kind of line. 
“You may go into cardiac arrest before you meet your match, Satoru.” Shoko snorted, sipping her coffee as she took in the surroundings of the busy cafe. For a moment, you wondered if she was doing what you and Satoru had been subconsciously doing for the last three weeks. “I keep waiting for him to appear.” Your tone was just barely above a whisper, as if even bringing up his existence would cause the world to implode around you. “Me too.” Shoko spoke softly, eyes still looking anywhere but the two of you. Satoru kept quiet, face unusually somber as he sipped his coffee. “I think I’ll eventually go insane.” 
You tried to sound lighthearted but the crack in your voice gave the opposite effect. 
Satoru’s eyes flickered up at that, making your shoulders shrink into the booth. You had quickly come to learn that both of your friends were treating you like fragile porcelain. Though you partially felt the same when talking to them, especially Satoru. Despite the frequent and long nights with each other, little to no words were ever spoken. “I’m fine.” You tried, voice a little stronger than before. “We can talk about these things without falling apart.” It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than them. Before anyone could speak, the waiter was walking over with your food, effectively stopping any further discussion. 
“Satoru…” You choked as the waiter walked away, eyes focused on the sugary, gooey concoction on the plate before him. “That’s your ticket to the ER.” Shoko was gawking at it too, a bite of food already halfway to her mouth. Satoru, on the other hand, looked like a kid on christmas morning, glasses sliding down his nose with a smile on his face. Your stomach grumbled as he cut into the pancakes, the feeling making you jump just a bit. You actually felt hungry, mouth watering as you looked down at your own plate and moved to take a bite. 
Silence fell over the table as you all ate, within minutes half of your food was gone and you were quietly wishing you had ordered something a little bigger.
“You need a napkin.” You laughed softly, handing Satoru your spare napkin so he could wipe the syrup off of his cheek. “Thanks.” For some reason you couldn't help but think he looked like a little kid. For another reason you couldn’t quite explain, it made sadness sink into your shoulders. He should be here with the three of you, eating and laughing and bringing you the comfort you always looked for in him. Your hands shook as you moved to eat more, not willing to let the surge of emotion get rid of the appetite you rarely had nowadays. 
As you finished your plate, you felt the bubbling wave of nausea build in your stomach. You inhaled slowly, trying to find a way to ease your worries and keep your food down. “Are you okay? You look a little green.” Shoko eyed you with concern, not even a second later Satoru was signaling the waiter for the check. “Y-yeah… told you my stomach was sensitive. That’s the most I've eaten at once in the last three weeks.” You couldn’t stand the embarrassment of making a scene or wasting money on the food you had just consumed. “I’ll be back.” You slipped out of the booth, your friend’s concerned eyes zeroing in on you as you disappeared for the bathroom. 
Luckily for you the bathroom was empty, the fluorescent lights making you flinch as you stumbled to the sink and turned the water on cold. You leaned over it, hands and wrists submerged under the running stream, chest heaving with the effort to remain calm. You were desperate to keep the food down, so desperate you could feel sweat forming on your temple as you tried to focus on anything but the nausea. Suguru’s face flashed through your mind and for a moment you were convinced your knees would give out from under you. 
~
“I told you to take it easy.” He huffs softly, fingers running through your hair as he rakes it away from your face. Carefully, he’s looping one of his elastics around your hair to keep it in place. Your head is still buried in the toilet, you had just finished throwing up for the third time in the last hour. “Are you still with me?” His hand is on your back now, rubbing slow but deliberate circles. Feebly you give him a thumbs up, throat burning from the sting of alcohol coming back up. 
“You didn’t eat much today and then you went and got shit-faced with Shoko.” Suguru stated the obvious, trying not to scold you because he knew you weren’t doing good right now. “I don’t think you have anything else to puke up, do you want some water?” You lifted your head now, reaching for toilet paper to wipe your mouth. “Water sounds good.” Your voice was weaker than Suguru had expected it to sound, his heart aching a bit as he sat beside you on the bathroom floor. 
“I’ll be right back, okay? Just yell if you get scared and I’ll be by your side before you know it.” You nodded, thanking him softly as he got up and disappeared out of your bathroom. You were only seventeen at the time, acting far older than you were and thinking you could get away with it. Now, you are facing the consequences of being naive. Typical for someone your age. Suguru had returned in under two minutes, handing you a glass of room temperature water. “It’ll be easier on your stomach at this temperature.” He chuckled as you grimaced. 
He moved to grab a washcloth from your cabinet, turning the sink water on cold. “And this…” he wrung it out twice before turning off the water “will help focus your attention on something other than the nausea.” He placed the cloth on the back of your neck, watching your shoulders sag in relief as something finally cooled your clammy skin. “Thanks, Sugu.” 
~
“Sugu… I’m scared.” Your voice was barely audible, tears burning your eyes as you squeezed them shut. Somehow it was working, your pain outshining the nausea as you tried to stop yourself from sobbing in the middle of the restroom. A year had passed since that moment in time, you were only eighteen now and yet you felt as if you had grown a decade. Yet, you were reduced to a scared and crying child because of nausea. Get it together. You forced yourself to straighten, hands slightly numb under the current of cold water. 
You forced yourself to make eye contact with your reflection, observing how stark the dark circles were under your eyes. Shoko had been right, you did look a bit green, but it was fading steadily as everything subsided. You let your hands sit under the water for a minute longer before bending over the sink and splashing some on your face. The door to the restroom opened as you straightened again, Shoko was looking at you with worry. “Did you get sick?” you shook your head, turning the water off and reaching for the paper towels. 
“Managed to fight it off… for now.” 
“Satoru paid already, there is a convenient store a couple shops down. We can get you some nausea meds and a barf bag for the ride back… just in case.” You nodded, smiling a bit. “That would probably be a good idea.” you followed her out of the bathroom and through the restaurant, Satoru was standing on the sidewalk with a new cigarette between his lips. “Damn, you really did develop a new habit.” He only shrugged, inhaling deeply before blowing more out. “I’ll get over it at some point.” Knowing him and his will-power, he probably would. 
“I’ll call for the driver, Satoru take her to the convenient store and I’ll catch up.” Satoru nodded, saluting her with a quick “yes ma’am” before grabbing your hand and dragging you along. You didn’t speak until Shoko was out of earshot. “Do you think it’s going to get better?” You appreciated the weight of his hand in yours, though you were certain he could feel how clammy it was. “I think it’ll get more bearable with time.” not better, but tolerable. The thought had your chest feeling heavy as you stepped inside of the small store. 
“Nausea meds and barf bags.” Satoru chuckled, reading the signs above each aisle until he spotted one that seemed like a good start. “You’ll have to see a doctor if this doesn’t ease up… how long has it been going on anyways?” You shuffled behind him, arms crossing due to him letting them go a moment prior. “Shortly after he left, after I found the letter.” Only Satoru knew about the letter that had been left behind. How Suguru managed to get back onto campus and leave it in your dorm was beyond him. You had even let him read it, breaking his heart again. 
“Shoko!” Satoru called, noticing her walk down the aisle before you could even turn your head. “I’m not good with this stuff, what should we get?” Satoru had already grabbed a box of blue cylindrical barf bags for you but the actual meds were basically foreign to him. “I’ll handle it from here, Satoru. You can wait in the car, he should be upfront by now.” Satoru’s brows furrowed, so did yours, but the look in Shoko’s eyes had him shrugging and handing the box to you. “Alright then, I’ll see ya out there.” 
He whistled as he strolled by, your eyes narrowing on Shoko. “What’s this about?” you watched her shuffle through the shelves, picking up one and reading the box before setting it down and moving onto the next. “I don’t know what you mean.” She commented offhandedly, plucking another box and reading it before sighing. “This one should work.” She turned, handing it to you while motioning you to follow her down the aisle. You read it over, nothing out of the ordinary so you truly couldn’t figure out what made this one different from the others. 
You stopped short when Shoko did, eyes scanning the aisle and feeling your stomach drop. “Shoko–” You sighed, she was standing in front of the pregnancy tests. “Listen, I know it’s probably the last thing you want to even think about but I think you should take one.” She was grabbing a box of the cheap tests, the same test that was still residing in the trash can of your bathroom. “Shoko, it's not necessary.” You couldn't bring yourself to tell her you already took one, for some reason you couldn’t tell her it was negative either. 
“I’ll buy them, and you’ll keep them. If this nausea doesn’t subside in like two weeks, I’m forcing you to take them.” You felt your face burning, clutching the nausea meds tightly in your hands as you looked away from her. “Fine.” You sighed, head tilted at her shoes as you followed her up front to the register. Everything was placed neatly in a brown bag so nobody could see the contents. Once in the car, you popped open the barf bags just to keep one ready in the event your nausea returned full force. “I figured you would forget this.” 
You looked up to see Satoru handing you a bottle of water, your lips parting in surprise. “You know me well, Satoru. I did forget.” you took it from him, grabbing the box of nausea meds and ripping them open. You took them and sighed, gulping down water when you realized how thirsty you had been. “If we have nothing else to do today, I think I’ll take a nap.” You were aching for your bed, more tired now than you had been after any missions. “Alright but we’ll wake you up for dinner if we don’t hear from you.” Shoko smiled, cracking the window to light a cig. 
“It’s not even 11am yet.” you snorted. “Yeah but you can sleep like the dead when you really need it, if we don’t wake you, you’ll sleep straight through till tomorrow.” You opened your mouth to deny it, about to use your frequent bathroom breaks as an excuse but stopped yourself. Saying that would only confirm the very thing Shoko was suspicious of. “Alright, fine, whatever.” You resigned with a playful huff, arms crossing as you turned to look out the window. Luckily for you, you managed to make it through the ride without needing to use the bag. 
“I’ll see you later.” You called after them, waving as you headed for the dorms. They both waved back, finding shade under a tree to enjoy more of the sunny morning. You felt your shoulders sagging with each step, your social battery diminished far faster now that Suguru wasn’t always by your side. You had almost grown a bit too dependent on him, thinking he would be a constant in your life. You inhaled shakily, the brown bag crumbling between your fingers as your emotions bubbled to the surface yet again. You couldn't seem to get yourself to your dorm fast enough, hot tears slipping down your cheeks as you shoved the key in the lock. 
It came in heavy waves, making you feel weak as you could only succumb to the sadness festering in your chest. You dropped the bag by the door, kicking off your shoes and shouldering off your uniform jacket. Moving on autopilot, you drew your curtains shut and took off the rest of your clothing, sliding his shirt over your head until you were enveloped in his scent. You were gasping for air by the time your body hit the mattress, curling in on yourself as you sobbed. “I miss you.” You hiccuped, rubbing your eyes as if it would stop the tears. 
God dammit, Suguru, why did you have to do this?
You buried your head in your pillow, trying to drown out your own feelings before sadness turned to anger and you ripped your whole room apart because of it. 
~
“Stop wiggling so much.” His voice sounded like gravel, rumbling the back of your head as he spoke. “Can’t help it.” You retorted, trying your best to settle into a comfortable position. Suguru had you wrapped in a bear hug, his favorite form of affection, especially since he knew you couldn’t get out of his grasp. His arms were covered in thick muscles, something you initially didn't expect because his uniform and choice of baggy clothing typically hid them.
 You could use all your strength and his grip wouldn’t falter.  
“Why not?” he mumbled again, if you had to guess, his eyes were closed as he spoke. “Cause it’s warm, Sugu.” you were both laying on top of the covers, little to no clothing on because of the heat and the broken air conditioning that the school was still trying to fix. Nothing but an old fan swiveling side to side to create some sort of relief. Still, Suguru couldn’t sleep unless you were pressed flush to him, warm or not. “It’s not that bad.” 
“Oh it absolutely is.” you immediately countered, turning your head back to try and look at him. “It could be way worse.” he tried again, fingers thrumming against your side. “Yeah, it could, but it could also be better. Like if you let me go for example.” You wiggled a bit, trying to create space before he pulled you tightly to him again. “Nice try, it’s not happening.” You groaned, going limp in his arms as he began to laugh. “I could totally make it worse for you.” He added softly, lips ghosting your ear. Despite the heat, you shivered. 
“The weirdest things turn you on, Sugu.” 
“Hey, it’s not nice to call yourself weird.” 
You slapped his arm, earning another rumble of laughter as he moved to hover over you. “C’mon, if I make you sweat, it’ll make the breeze from the fan feel colder.” You rolled your eyes, studying his features as he looked down at you, hair framing his face and ghosting yours. “That’s counterproductive, you know.” Your hands were running up his biceps anyway, moving to wrap around his neck and pull him close to you. “Maybe it is, but you can’t say I’m wrong.” 
His head was lowering, giving into your pull with no hesitation. “You’re right, I can’t say you’re wrong. But… I want to.” You smile, pulling him further until your lips melt together. He was radiating warmth, his teeth grazing your bottom lip to ask for entrance. Your lips parted, hands snaking up into his hair and tugging at the strands until he groaned. Suguru braced himself on one hand, making the mattress dip just by your head. The rest of his weight was settled on his knees, caging your hips in so you truly couldn’t get away from him. Not that you wanted too now. 
You felt small beneath him, his bare skin radiating warmth as he used his free hand to push your shirt up. You could ignore the heat for the time being, more focused on the steady beating from between your thighs. “Sugu…” You parted with a gasp, watching him lean up and pull you with him, allowing him to drag your shirt over your head and toss it to the floor before pushing you down again. His lips didn’t return to yours, instead they moved to your neck, kissing along your pulse point until you were whining. “Quiet, baby, don’t forget we’re in my room.” 
Satoru was asleep next door, that realization set in like ice water being dumped over your head. “Suguru.” You choked as his head dipped lower, licking along your collarbone before moving to one of your breasts. He wasn’t going to answer you, and you knew that for a fact by the way his lips curled into a smirk against your skin. “You’re evil.” You gasped, hand fisting his hair tightly as he scraped his teeth along your breast, nipping at the soft skin. Your other hand found its home on his shoulder, nails scratching lightly as his muscles flexed under your grasp. 
You sunk your teeth into your cheek when his lips wrapped around your perked nipple, arousal making it pebble slightly as he sucked. Suguru’s tongue lavished your skin, flicking the bud until your back was arching into his touch. It wasn’t nearly enough, your breath coming out in short pants as you tried to pry him off and focus on your other breast. “These would look so pretty if they were full of milk.” You choked, eyes wide as he looked up at you through his lashes. “Don’t you think?” You couldn’t breathe for a moment, stunned into silence by his comment. 
“C’mon baby, don’t act so shocked.” He cooed softly, the tip of his tongue trailing up your sternum. He didn’t stop until he reached your lips, kissing them softly before dipping his head again. His hand toyed with the breast he had just teased endlessly, brown eyes observing the rate of your breathing before lowering onto your other breast. He repeated the same motions, nipping and sucking the senstive skin until you were squirming from the wetness between your legs.
“You haven't answered me, sweetheart.”
“B-because I don’t know how to answer that, Sugu.” You knew exactly what he was implying, but you couldn’t form a coherent response for him. “You just have to tell me if you agree, it’s pretty simple.” He chuckled, pushing himself up to look down at you. Your hands fell to your sides, his neck just out of your reach. “Just think about it, pretty girl.” You watched him, completely entranced as he pulled his briefs down and his erection sprang free. “Because I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” 
“You have?” You sat up a bit, fingers shakily pulling off your own underwear to save time. “I have.” He confirmed, cheeks turning a shade of red that you could see even in the moonlight. His hand slid along his length, spreading the precum drooling from his tip while his boxers rested at his mid-thigh. “Take those off, Sugu.” You smiled a bit, reaching for the waistband and pulling them taut before letting them snap back against his thigh. “So demanding.” He snorted, letting himself go to push the material off, tossing it to the floor just as you had done with your underwear. 
“So are you, demanding an answer for something so…so…” you couldn’t find the right words, not when his eyes were on you, devouring you whole. “…so what? How does it make you feel?” He redirected, pumping himself leisurely as your thighs fell open for him, still supporting yourself on your elbows as you waited. “How does what make me feel?” A stupid question but you were still reeling from the initial statement. Suguru laughed, hand still gliding over his length as he sat on his knees.
“How does it feel knowing I think about getting you pregnant… all the fucking time.” You couldn’t deny the thought made you feel hot, hotter than you felt from the heat and arousal mixing. Like molten lava was running its way through your bloodstream. “F-feels fucking…” you squirmed a bit, legs moving to close involuntarily until his hand shot out and stopped them. “Go on, pretty girl. Tell me.” You sat up, glaring at him with warm cheeks. “How about you fuck me. Then, maybe, I’ll tell you how I feel about your little fantasies.” Suguru groaned, head falling forward for a moment. 
“Sounds like a good deal to me.” He moved forward, pressing you back into the mattress as he pulled your thighs towards him. Your lips found his neck, sucking on it harshly as he ran the dull head of his cock between your slick folds. You let him move you however he pleased, your legs being pushed almost painfully to your chest as he pressed into you. You gasped in unison, his cock stretching you open easily despite no prep. “Shit…” his head fell forward again, nearly bumping yours as he bottomed out, no space left between the two of you. 
Suguru stayed in place, eyes shut as he focused on the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around him, unable to stay still. Your nails dug into his scalp, pulling a groan from his lips as you tried to relax but couldn’t. He was big, bigger than any fling or partner you had in the past. No matter how easily your cunt accepted him, it still stung for the first few seconds. You had grown to love the deep ache, the weight of him inside you, the way his tip would brush your cervix depending on the position. Like now, with your legs pressed so tightly to your body. 
“Can I move?” his voice was soft, eyes peering into your own once he gained his composure. “Y-yeah.” You breathed out, the feeling of his hands on your skin still sent shockwaves of arousal through you. Especially when his grip tightened, bracing himself on you as he drew his hips back half way before rolling into you again. You moaned, eyes squeezing shut as Suguru found his rhythm, hips meeting yours with a soft slap. “D-Don’t forget Satoru is…” You wailed softly, pleasure building quickly as he moved. “I know…” 
But the smirk on his face told you he no longer cared, he’d gladly listen to his white-haired best friend bitch and moan in the morning about being woken up by you. Suguru’s rhythm only sped up, hips angling perfectly to brush along that one particular spot as he thrust into you, cock head brushing your cervix every few thrusts until your vision was blurring. The pleasure ebbing through your body was more than enough to block out how uncomfortable your current position was. 
A wet squelch started to emit between your legs, loud enough to be heard over the drone of the fan as Suguru pounded into you. “So…” he started, voice strained as sweat dripped down his temple. “... can you tell me how it makes you feel now?” You blinked, awestruck that he was still hooked on getting an answer from you. “S-suguru…” you whined, head falling further into the pillows. “I’m not letting it go…ha… Tell me how it makes you feel.” he ground out, hips slowing just a bit. When you didn’t speak, he pressed more of his weight into you so one hand could break free. 
You moaned, loud and unrestrained as his fingers ghosted across your swollen clit, the sudden contact making you see stars. “Tell me how it makes you feel.” he repeated, watching your face go slack as his fingers and hips worked in tandem. “Makes me hot…” You admitted with a heavy breath, eyes struggling to focus on him. “I want you to do it, Sugu… fuck me till I’m pregnant.” The look on his face had you shrinking further into the mattress, an almost animalistic look taking over his eyes as he stopped moving all together. “Say it again.” 
“I want you to fuck me ‘til I’m pregnant, Suguru.”  
~
You woke up in a sweat, gasping for air as you stumbled out of bed and barreled to the bathroom. You couldn’t stop the nausea this time, knees hitting the tile floor with bruising force as you heaved into the toilet. You hadn’t even remembered falling asleep, but your dream was enough to send you into a death spiral. Tears burned your eyes as the little bit of breakfast you hadn’t digested came back up. Luckily for you, you had slept long enough that your food from this morning wasn’t a total loss. Nothing more than bile was left as you finally calmed down. 
You reached for toilet paper, wiping your tears and blowing your nose until you could at least breath without difficulty. Aching, you got up, flushing the toilet and washing your hands and face. You had no idea what time it was but you assumed it wasn’t late enough for dinner if Shoko never came to wake you up. At least that’s what you thought as you stumbled back into your dorm room slightly sweaty. That’s odd… The sun had begun to set just beyond your window, your eyes flickering to your alarm clock. 7:23pm stared back at you in big red numbers. 
I slept for over eight hours? You looked for your phone, seeing the missed text from Shoko. 
Shoko: I decided against waking you up, I figured you could use the sleep. Just text me when you’re awake and I can bring you dinner
You were partially grateful for her decision, your face still warm as your dream lingered in your mind. Dreaming of the past, how cliche. You sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. You had woken up so suddenly, adrenaline blocking out the sleepiness at first. Now, your body seemed to thrum with a dull ache, the headrush coming back around to kick you while you were down. You reached over to turn on the small lap residing on your nightstand, eyes squinting for a moment as you adjusted. Your eyes focused on the brown bag from earlier, the one you discarded on your floor after coming back. 
You knew there was water in there still, so you got up and grabbed it, looking at the bag contents in disdain. You emptied it on your desk, nausea meds, barf bags and the box of pregnancy tests. You studied then as you gulped down some of the water, easing the burn in your throat. The pregnancy tests Shoko had insisted on were identical to the one you took this morning. Weirdly enough you wished she had grabbed the more expensive digital ones. That way you wouldn't have to strain yourself trying to figure out if a second line was present or not. 
“Fuck it.” you sighed, dropping the now empty water bottle in the small barrel you kept beside your desk. You still had one more test in the box from this morning, you’d take another one just because of the memories lingering on your mind. Your face felt warm as you recalled that particular night from a few months back. Suguru had been pretty adamant after that, fucking you raw and in ernest with every intention of knocking you up. You, stupidly, let him because you love him and loved the idea of having a family with him. “Idiot.” 
You scolded yourself again, ripping the foil wrapper and tossing it in your trash with the now empty box. You went through the same process as you did that morning, peeing into a cup and dipping the absorbent end into it for ten seconds before capping it and discarding the rest of the contents. You forced yourself to leave the bathroom this time, convinced it would make time go by faster. The text Shoko had sent was still left unanswered, you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel hungry at that moment in time. 
You’d text her in a little while though, or else she’d likely come breaking your door down thinking you had run away. Just then, your phone vibrated with the ringtone you had set for Satoru. You grabbed it, flipping it open to see what he had to say. On the screen there was a message from him, asking if you wanted to hang out on the rooftop to watch the stars later on. You smiled a bit, it was rare for Satoru to ask things so formally. You clicked out a message, telling him yes and that you could use some fresh air. 
It took him no time at all to send a happy emoticon, one that had you rolling your eyes as you typed back that you’d meet him at his dorm when you were ready. You backed out of the chat, eyes lingering on a particular contact, your message to him was naturally left unanswered. You had given up texting Suguru’s number when the messages no longer got delivered. You figured he’d discard his phone, throw away any direct contact he had with the three of you. You snapped your phone shut a moment later, you’d text Shoko after you got dressed.
Opening your closet was still proving to be a bit difficult, especially as your fingers trailed over the material of the clothing Suguru had kept in your room. They smelt like the laundry detergent he used as well as his cologne, it took your breath away for a moment. You forced yourself away, grabbing some comfortable clothes that were actually yours before shutting the door. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to discard his clothing, despite knowing he wasn’t coming back to you. 
You pulled his shirt over your head, grabbing your own and replacing it. You pulled on a pair of shorts after, rubbing your face with your hands as you looked at your appearance in the mirror. No amount of sleep seemed to help the dark circles under your eyes or the sickly look to your complexion. You could only hope Satoru was right, with time it would become more manageable. You glanced at your alarm clock, 7:48pm stared back at you now. The sky outside your window had turned indigo, the sun minutes away from being completely out of sight. The summer was coming to an end, filling your chest with melancholy.
You couldn’t stand being alone in that moment, grabbing your phone and shoving it in your pocket as you made a beeline for your door. You made your way down the hall, remembering as you passed Shoko’s dorm that you needed to text her. Stopping in your tracks, you figured it would just be easier to see her in person. “Shoko?” you called, fingers tapping the door softly because she hated when people knocked too loud. “Coming.” You heard her rustling around her room before the door opened, a half smoked cigarette hanging from her lips. 
“Thought Yaga told you no smoking inside.”  
“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, and my window is open.” 
You smiled, “I’m hanging out with Satoru on the roof if you wanna join us.” Shoko exhaled, puffing just a bit of smoke in your direction. “I’d love to but I spent the whole afternoon with him ‘cause you were sleeping.” You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck “my bad.” but Shoko was waving you off. “Don’t apologize, you need sleep… I’ll trust Satoru to feed you if you’re hungry.” She smiled as you rolled your eyes “Alright alright, enjoy the rest of your bad habit and I’ll take Satoru duty.” The look in Shoko’s eyes made your smile falter for just a moment. 
They looked oddly wistful, but it vanished just as quickly as your smile faltered. “Aye aye captain.” Shoko started to shut the door as you turned to leave, watching you go for just a moment before shutting it completely. “Satoru.” You drawled, banging on his door so you could be heard over the music he was playing. “Oi, keep it down!” the door swung open a moment later, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked at you. “Ready to go?” He looked cozy in an oversized black hoodie and sweats, sunglasses resting on top of his head. 
“Sure am.” you returned his smile, the ache in your chest easing just a bit. It was more bearable when you had someone who understood the pain you felt deeper than surface level. You watched him turn, shutting off his music and the lights before stepping into the hallway. “Are we going to take the normal way or are you going to test out your blue?” Satoru’s eyes seemed to sparkle as you suggested he use his curse technique. “If you insist on blue…” You couldn’t even make a sound as his arm wrapped around your waist, hauling you off of your feet. 
In the blink of an eye, you were exposed to the cooling night air. “Damn.” You laughed as he set you down, shuffling over to the small lock box you kept up here with spare blankets and, as Shoko claimed, “necessities”...Which were just two cartons of emergency cigarettes. “Didn’t disorient you, right?” Satoru was standing on the edge, observing the glow of the city in the distance. “Not even a little, you’ve improved a lot, Satoru.” your back was turned to him, so you missed the way his eyes widened slightly, cheeks turning pink. 
“Thanks” 
You turned back to him, blankets in hand. “So…” You walked over to where he was standing, taking a seat just before the edge and letting your legs dangle off. “...So?” Satoru looked down at you, watching you settle. “Why did you want to come up here… I’d love to gaze at the stars but it’s not like we’ll actually see any with all the light pollution.” Satoru sighed, dropping down to squat beside you. “I guess I just wanted your company… ya know since you’re probably the only other person that understands this.” his tone was awkward, it wasn’t often that you were sentimental… or serious for that matter… with each other. 
“Your welcome to have my company any time, Satoru. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you.” It was so heartfelt it made you feel strange. “Sorry.” You added, a bit meeker than before when he stiffened a bit. “Don’t be sorry, just not used to being so… serious with you.”  He sat fully now, shoulder brushing yours as a silent invitation for you to rest your head. You did, just as you always had, watching the lights of the city a few miles away. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” You spoke in a gentle tone, hoping he knew what you meant. 
“It is. Knowing he’s there, that he’s okay… while we’re sitting here sulking like idiots.” There was a small bite to his tone as he finished, one that quickly left when he exhaled. “It pisses me off.” It made you upset too, anger bubbling in the back of your mind like a pot of boiling water that was going to overflow at any second. “It pisses me off too, because I truly can’t understand it. I’ve killed myself over the last three weeks trying to understand, to make sense of it. I can’t and I don’t think I ever will. But it’s not my place to reason with it, you know?” 
Satoru was silent, waiting for you to continue. “It’s not my life, it’s his. I tried for months to get it out of him, I tried so goddamn hard to get him to open up and he never did. Always redirecting, always avoiding.” You sounded defeated by the end, blinking away the tears that blurred your vision so you could regain composure. “Why didn’t you come to me?” Satoru questioned softly, letting your words sink in like an anchor. 
“He gave you so many signs, Satoru. If you couldn’t see them, it wasn’t my place to assist.” 
Satoru felt like that should have made him angry, but it didn’t. Mostly because you were right, it had been obvious from the start but he had naively pushed them to the side, pretending it wasn’t true. He was just as much at fault, if anything he was willing to shoulder all of the blame. Because at least you tried. He couldn’t say the same, and he knew that far too well. “Suguru made up his mind the moment he entered that village. There is no stopping a man who is set in their resolve. You said it yourself, Satoru. He looked healthier, happier, content.” 
Satoru took in a shaky breath, leaning into you just as you leaned into him. “I just don’t get why he needed to kill his parents.” Your eyes closed, that was the thought weighing heaviest on your mind. “He needed to prove to himself that he was doing the right thing. That nobody, not even his parents, were an exception to his newfound ideology.” It killed you to say it, especially since you had met his parents last winter break. They were kind, at least his mother was. His father was a bit colder but there was still an undeniable love for his son. They had welcomed you so openly, they were proud of the son they had raised. 
Now they were gone, nobody but Suguru was to blame. 
“In a fucked up way, I don’t care that he killed those people.” The words felt bitter on your tongue, but his letter flashed through your mind and for a moment you understood him. Those two little girls, beaten and caged, scared and facing death for things they never did. Hell, had you gone on the mission with him, you may have encouraged his choices. That realization felt weird as it settled in your gut. “I… I don’t really care either.” Satoru admitted softly, thinking back over the last year, thinking about Amanai. He had been seconds away from doing the same thing. 
But Suguru had been his voice of reason, stopping him with a simple command. It should have been obvious then, that Suguru’s life was completely altered from that moment forward. “It was so obvious.” He hissed softly, head falling forward just a bit as anger squeezed his heart. “There is nothing we can do now, Satoru. Nothing we can do will reverse the damage that has been done.” You wished you could believe your own words, part of you wanted to catch a train into the city and barrel into that religious group he took over. 
You weren’t even sure what you’d do if you did. Hit him, yell at him? Crumple into his arms like the sucker you were. Maybe a mix of all three, no, it would definitely be a mix of all three. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react if he saw you again. He made it clear in his letter that he loved you, he still loved you, he would always love you. If you made the choice to leave, would he welcome you in with open arms. Or was he resenting you already for not doing so sooner. Was he waiting for you? Or was it nothing more than sweet-talk. 
“You’re not breathing.” Satoru muttered softly, tilting his head just a bit to look down at you. “Oh…” You inhaled deeply, laughing a bit  as you exhaled “got lost in thought.” You felt Satoru relax again, head resting against yours. “I get it.” You fell into a comfortable silence, watching as the sky steadily turned from a deep blue to pitch black. There, if you squint hard enough, you could make out a couple of sparkling stars. 
You knew if you asked, Satoru could probably whisk you somewhere far away. Somewhere clear so you could actually see the stars with no obstructions. 
Yet you were too comfortable, too warm. 
Sitting where you were now was more than enough for the time being. That feeling of content actually took the air from your lungs for a moment, blinking steadily as you took in your surroundings. There was a fleeting moment where your heart felt light, that aching heaviness that had been plaguing it for the last three weeks wasn’t present. You wondered quietly if Satoru felt it too. Given the way his body seemed completely relaxed into yours, you assumed he did. 
~
You were stumbling down the hall like a drunkard. Your mind felt numb as you moved, head tilted down and expression blank. If anyone were to cross your path at that given moment, they probably would have been unsettled by the sight of you. A zombie moving on autopilot, your brain moving so quickly that it had reduced everything to a quiet, droning buzz. 
Murder. 112 people. His parents too. He’s gone. He snapped. He’s a murderer. Suguru is gone. 
Nothing made sense, not a single bit of the information you had received made any sense. The fact that Suguru wasn’t answering your frequent texts wasn't making sense. The fact that you had woken up to an empty bed wasn’t making sense. The fact that people were telling you Suguru, your Suguru, had taken over a hundred lives in the span of one night wasn’t making any fucking sense. 
Your knees nearly gave out the moment your hand met the wood of your door, pushing it open so quickly it slammed into the wall with a loud thud before coming back at you. Not that you cared, at that moment you could be set on fire and you wouldn’t blink an eye. 
You stood in the middle of your dorm room, eyes scanning the room as if it were something foreign. Nothing was making sense, not even your bed looked like your own. It was the pressure cracking down on you already, sinking its claws into your shoulders and forcing you to your knees as the weight of your new reality hit you like a freight train. You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry in that moment, too shell shocked over the report Yaga had read to you and Satoru. 
Satoru. 
You had stumbled away shortly after the report was finished, barely registering the way he had started to yell. You hadn’t looked back, but it wasn’t like either of them tried to stop you. Despite having just stumbled away from him, you found yourself moving to leave and find him again. At least you would have if your knees didn’t give out on you. You gasped, more out of surprise than pain as your legs made contact with the wooden floor. You sat there for a moment, arms feeling equally as weak as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. 
You felt your chest tighten, every breath felt strangled as you tried to inhale. A cold sweat seemed to cover your skin, fingers shaking slightly as you pushed your hair from your face. You couldn’t move, completely paralyzed by shock. It felt like your heart was shattering, every shaky inhale deepening the wound. Still, your tears would not come. Not even as black spots began to obstruct your vision, chest heaving as you began to hyperventilate. 
Despite your body vibrating in distress, you felt a nearly silent calm. Like someone had flicked off the switch and stole your ability to hear.
Nothing and everything all at once. 
~
“Hey? Y/N wake up…” You jumped a bit, hand coming up to touch the wetness on your cheeks. “You were crying in your sleep.” Satoru muttered softly, hand smoothing over your hair as he cradled you. “I-I was?” You didn’t even realize the change in position or the change in scenery. You were no longer sitting by the roof’s edge, instead you were sitting in Satoru’s lap, his arms holding you tightly as he looked at you with worry. 
“You were.” he confirmed, letting you go just as you woke up fully. “Sorry for worrying you, I was just thinking about him… it’s so strange. I’ve been having such intense dreams of the past… I've had dreamless sleep for the last three weeks… so why now?” Satoru sighed, watching you get up to stand and stretch your limbs. “I don’t know. I’ve been having odd dreams about him but I don’t really remember how most of them go by the time I wake up.”
“It’s the universe’s way of torturing us… as if we haven’t been tortured enough. Wait, how long have I been asleep?” The temperature had dropped significantly, the moon was shining high in the sky now. “About an hour or so, I was actually going to bring you back inside but you started to cry and… well here we are now.” Satoru got up, stretching dramatically as you sighed. “You’d think after sleeping for eight hours I wouldn't be tired.” 
You walked to the edge of the roof again, feet pressing firmly to the ledge as you looked down. “Being depressed will suck the soul out of you.” For some reason you couldn’t help but laugh. “You seem pretty wide awake, Satoru.” He joined you on the ledge, pushing you a bit to the side. Your training gave you quick reflexes so you didn’t flinch when he did it. “Oh please, you know I’m right.” You glanced at him, laughing softly. 
“You are, but so am I. We can be depressed morons together.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, earning another laugh as you punched his shoulder. “Touche, Gojo” 
“Yuck, never call me that again.” His face had morphed into a scowl as you used his last name. He never liked hearing you call him anything other than Satoru. “Fine.” you crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling the cool air. “I think I’m gonna go shower and maybe make something small for dinner… Just so Shoko doesn’t string the two of us up on a lamppost.” Satoru nodded, watching you step off the ledge and move about the roof to put the blankets away. 
“I’ll accompany you.” he jumped down, trailing behind you as you moved to open the door that would bring you downstairs. “In the shower? I’m flattered but–” the way his eyes rolled were enough to stop you mid-sentence. “Joking, Satoru.” he sighed out an “I know” closing the distance to haul you up. “Using the stairs is boring.” Within the blink of an eye, you were back inside and standing in front of your dorm room. 
“Text me when you’re done showering and we can go get food.” 
You nodded, one of the perks of attending school in Tokyo was the fact that the city never slept. You could go find a place to eat at three in the morning and they’d still serve you hot food. Your body sagged against the door of your dorm after shutting it. Flicking on the lights lit the room in a warm, golden glow. For the last three years you considered your room a sanctuary, it was your happy place after a long day of training. Now, it feels oddly cold. 
You walked over to your dresser, pulling the top drawer open to grab a fresh pair of underwear and pajamas for after. You tossed them on your bed, reaching down for your bottom drawer to grab a particular towel you liked. It didn’t take you long to put your hair up, not in the mood to wash it just yet, and head to the bathroom. You squinted a bit as the nearly white fluorescent lights filled the room, if you had your way you’d change them to something softer. 
It took all of five seconds for your world to come crashing down around you again, eyes zeroing in on the pregnancy test sitting on your counter. I fucking forgot about it…
You set your towel down on the counter, holding your breath as you took the step and reached for the test. You gave yourself no time to prepare, eyes scanning the results once before it hit you like a ton of bricks. You dropped it, letting it clatter on the porcelain counter as a jagged sob ruptured from your chest. Your hand came up to cover your mouth, the other resting on your chest, your heart thumping so wildly you were certain it would burst. 
There, on the test, were two lines. It was positive. 
You nearly fell forward, dropping down to the trash can beside your sink and rummaging through it without hesitation. Your fingers wrapped around the plastic test from this morning, yanking it up and looking at the results again. There, on the initial test from that morning, were two lines. You didn’t drop it this time, eyes staring at the results as if they’d change. Positive, this whole time it had been positive. You just hadn’t let the first test develop long enough. 
“When… How…” You uttered softly, the logical part of your brain screaming at you to be realistic for a second rather than acting so surprised. The irrational side of your brain was still reeling from the revelation. As if Suguru hadn’t been adamant in trying to knock you up for months. “You fucking bastard… you get your way and leave me with the aftermath.” You were struggling, there was no way you’d be able to pinpoint when it happened until you found out how far along you were. For some reason, that was what made reality really set in. 
Hot tears streaked your face, sobbing so harshly that it felt like your lungs would collapse on you. You moved in a blur, legs carrying you out of your dorm and down the hall until you were pushing open Satoru’s door. “Woah there, sounds like someone’s hun…” He looked up, the teasing tone in his voice dropping immediately when he saw the tears streaming down your face. “What the fuck happened? Are you hurt?” Satoru crossed the room in two long strides, hands cupping your face as your lips wobbled. 
You couldn’t get the words out, crying harder as he ran his hands over you searching for some type of wound. “C’mon, what happened?” His tone had more of a bite to it than he intended but you were causing panic to seep through his veins. You couldn’t breathe, legs nearly buckling under the weight of your reality. Satoru seemed to catch this, hands shooting out to support you as he brought both of you to the floor. “Y/N, please.” he urged you, throat feeling tight. 
You shook your head, still sobbing as you raised your hand meekly, the positive pregnancy test out in the open for him to see. Blue eyes widened significantly when he saw it, he didn’t even need to see the two lines to understand why you were so hysterical. “Oh…oh.” he swallowed, hand shakily taking the test from your hand to look at it. “Oh fuck.” it was just barely above a whisper, arm holding you just a little tighter as you cried into his chest. 
At least part of you was aware of the possibility, Satoru on the other hand felt completely blindsided. “You two didn’t use protection?” He uttered softly, rocking you slightly without thinking as your cries continued, you couldn’t think at that moment, unable to calm yourself down. You managed to shake your head in response, unable to feel embarrassed as you admitted to not using condoms when with Suguru. “Fuck… did you ever use protection with him?” 
He knew the answer, of course he fucking knew the answer. Suguru was utterly obsessed with you, so in love it was nearly nauseating. You shook your head again, confirming that you’d never once used protection with him. “Hey… c’mon…” he started softly when your body shook with the force of your cries but you were no longer making any sounds. He wanted to say it would be alright but he wasn’t sure if it would be. 
That answer relied on you. 
He couldn’t expect you to be alright, you had your heart broken three weeks prior by the man who often talked about proposing to you as soon as you all graduated. If those were the kind of conversations Suguru was having with him, he couldn’t imagine the conversations Suguru had been having with you. Well, that was a bit of a lie. Considering your reaction to the test results, it seemed this was a long sought after goal. Your cries were from heartbreak, not fear. 
~
“I’ve been looking at rings.” Satoru glanced up, noodles dangling half way from his lips. “Hah?” He watched Suguru grimace a bit, some broth splattering as Satoru questioned him. “I’ve been looking at rings for Y/N.” Suguru stated again, a little more cautiously now, watching Satoru slurp the rest of the noodles into his mouth. “Suguru, we haven’t even entered our third year.” 
“I know, but…” he shrugged, unable to formulate the right way to say it. “...But? You’re not even eighteen yet, neither is she.” It wasn’t that Satoru didn’t think it was okay, he just figured you were both way too young to even fathom those things. “I don’t intend on proposing to her until we’ve graduated. Listen I know it seems fast but…” Suguru's hands fidgeted with his utensils for a moment, eyes avoiding Satoru until he was ready.
“I love her, Satoru. I didn’t even think it was possible to love someone as much as I love her.” 
Satoru blinked, a bit taken back by such a bold declaration over a bowl of cheap ramen. “I’m not doubting that you love her, Suguru. I just think it’s a bit crazy to think about these things so young.” Suguru sighed, watching Satoru with weary eyes as he moved to eat more noodles. 
“We’re sourcers, Satoru. A long life isn’t guaranteed.” 
~
“Breathe, please. You’re going to pass out.” Satoru’s hand was slapping your back as you coughed, the tears had finally begun to slow but you still weren’t able to form a coherent sentence. “Please…” he tried again, watching you try your best to take a deep breath. It was followed by another, this time it wasn’t superficial. After a couple more, you were able to rub the tears from your eyes and look at him without blurry vision. 
“S-satoru I’m so so-sorry.” you hiccuped, your throat feeling raw from your crying. “You have nothing to apologize for, stop feeling like you have to apologize for everything you do.” he let you go a bit, motioning for you to get up with him and sit on his bed rather than the floor. He watched you crawl under his covers, curling up against his pillows, sniffling softly. Despite the weight of the conversation you were about to have, Satoru couldn’t help but chuckle. 
He crawled onto his bed as well, sitting beside you but above the covers. “So… I guess the best place to start is… how did this happen. By that I mean, was it intentional?” You sighed, toying with the end of his pillow case as you spoke. “Suguru had been trying to get me pregnant for months now.” You felt warmth flood your cheeks, it felt awkward admitting something like that. “I knew the bastard had a breeding kink.” Satoru said it more to himself than you, but that didn’t stop the shrill yell of his name as you slapped his arm. 
“I’m being honest! He just seemed like the type.” Satoru shrugged, holding back laughter as you rolled your eyes and settled back into sulking. “I shouldn’t be so blindsided by this, but it’s fucking ironic that he got what he wanted after he fucking left me… us.” you corrected softly, feeling selfish for being so focused on yourself when Satoru was hurting too. “The universe knows how to play cruel jokes, I’ve thought that my whole life. But, that’s beside the point. We can’t sit here and sulk over it, we need to talk about what to do next.” 
You looked up at Satoru, eyes red from crying. It hurt his heart, you looked like a kicked puppy. In that moment he realized how heavily he relied on Suguru, because even now he found himself itching to grab his phone and call him for advice. What was worse, you were now looking to him for help, when really he was just as scared as you. “The next logical step is I need to find a doctor who can run a blood test and confirm the store bought tests are accurate. After that, they need to tell me how far along I am so I can pinpoint when this happened.”
Satoru nodded, you’d both have to fill in Shoko in the morning, she’d be able to help with all the medical bits. “I… I know this seems a bit invasive so please don’t take offense… but are you going to keep it?” Satoru fidgeted a bit, eyes watching as you seemed to zone out and think. Your initial answer was yes, of course, but were you really capable of raising a baby on your own? Then again, you didn’t think you could stomach giving them away for adoption, and you certainly didn’t want to get rid of them. Not after you chased this goal for months, regardless of the way things were right now. “Yeah, as terrifying as it is, I want this baby, Satoru.” 
“Okay, so we got two of the biggest things out of the way. Now, the hardest…” you huffed as he trailed off, you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to answer the next question. “What do we do about Suguru, that’s what you’re going to say, right?” It was Satoru’s turn to huff now, nodding as he looked away from you to stare at his hands.
“He… he needs to know.” 
“No the fuck he doesn’t.” 
You both stared at each other, completely scandalized by the other’s response. “Satoru… He needs to know… he…he’s the fucking dad? How am I supposed to jus–” Satoru shook his head, hands coming up to rub his face before letting them fall back to his lap. “Suguru is a fucking criminal now, he murdered people. Hundreds of people I should fucking remind you and you just want to waltz back into his fucking life and tell him that shit?” You sat up now, eyes burning holes into his skull as you waited for him to at least look at you. “Do you hear yourself?” 
You were seething, that same anger you held for Suguru leaving was now bubbling at Satoru for uttering his name like it was pure filth. Satoru stiffened, eyes turning to glare at you. But, every ounce of anger seemed to drain from his body when he saw nothing but hurt glowing in your tired and puffy eyes. “I fucking get it, Satoru. I know what Suguru did but fuck, how am I supposed to just get over him? How am I supposed to carry his child for nine months and push it out of my body just to raise it on my fucking own and never tell him? He’s the one that wanted this in the first place!” Tears glossed your eyes over, hands shaking as they fisted in his sheets.
His mouth opened before closing again, eyes looking away from you because he knew he'd never be able to try and talk sense into you when you looked at him like that. “And what if the child is unable to see curses?” he sounded defeated. “What then, Y/N? What if you give birth to this baby and they lack the ability to see them? That baby would be the very thing Suguru hates.” You froze, it felt like someone had poured ice water down the back of your neck. “If he didn’t spare his own parents, he won’t spare his own child.” Satoru swallowed, looking like he wanted to say so much more but didn’t. He let the words hang there, heavy and dark. 
The silence stretched on between the two of you, mostly because you knew he was right. Just because both parents had the ability to see into the curse world and use curse energy, it didn’t guarantee that their offspring would also carry the same blessing. You blinked, hand subconsciously moving to rest over your stomach, as if it would do anything to protect them. “Suguru he… he wouldn’t…” Your words were weak and at that moment Satoru couldn’t bring himself to really fight with you. “But he would, y/n that’s the fucking issue, he would.” his voice was breaking, unsure if he should say what he wanted to say next. 
“Then what am I going to do?” You were going to dissolve, tears burning your eyes again as the harsh reality began to sink in. “Let me help you, let me help you raise the baby. I can easily provide for the two of you.” He turned to look at you now, eyes burning with such intensity it stole the air from your lungs. “What?” you hadn’t meant for it to sound offended, you were shocked to say the least, but still the hurt that flashed through his features made you feel the urge to reach out and hug him. “Satoru I didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh…” You moved forward, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and hugging him. 
It took a second but his arms came up to wrap around your middle, holding you tightly. “It’s okay, it was a bold statement to make so suddenly.” he soothed you when really you felt that you  should be the one soothing him. “No it’s fine, really it just caught me by surprise and…” you hugged him a little tighter, burying your face in his neck. For a moment you nearly stiffened, that was something you usually did to seek comfort from Suguru. In that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, finding comfort in Satoru’s reassuring embrace. “You don’t have to answer me tonight.” He hushed you, hand coming up to smooth your hair as he kept you close. “I doubt you have an appetite now, how about we just sleep?” 
“I still need to shower.” You pulled away, laughing softly when you remembered what you had been in the process of doing before your world flipped. “Okay, then go and shower but please come back to me when you’re done.” His tone was quiet, something in it held no room for you to disagree. So, you let go of him reluctantly, nodding as you crawled over him to stand. “Again, you don’t have to answer me tonight, or tomorrow, or even next week. But please, think about what I said.” He stayed on his bed, watching you shakily grab the pregnancy test before heading for his door. “I will, Satoru. Keep my spot warm.” you smiled at him over your shoulder, heart still heavy as you disappeared through the open door. 
The hot water on your skin wasn’t enough to wash away the dread growing in your chest. You found your hands absentmindedly running along your abdomen, still finding it hard to believe something was there, something that would grow into a living breathing human in a few months time. A mix of you and Suguru, how strange. This wasn’t how you imagined it would happen, nor were these the feelings you expected to experience when the time came. If anything, it made you more upset. You should be happy, you should be fucking estatic. You should be basking in the euphoric state of knowing you’d be having a child with the man you adored. 
Instead, you had sobbed in the arms of his best friend, completely hysterical. And the man you loved had no idea you were even pregnant, that the very thing he wanted had been achieved and he wouldn’t even get to know. At least not yet. You had taken Satoru’s words into consideration, of course you did. But in the back of your mind, you knew there was no way you’d be able to go on with your life without ever telling Suguru. He would know, he would know of his child, you were already set on that. You twisted the knob, the water turning off a second later as you got out and dried yourself off a bit before wrapping the towel around you. 
Your body was aching from the events of the last few hours. Returning to Satoru’s room and sleeping in his warm bed sounded like heaven to you. Sleeping next to someone again felt like heaven to you. You had to wonder what Suguru would think if he knew you were sharing his best friend’s bed – albeit nothing sexual was occuring between the two of you. And even then, Suguru had broken up with you in that letter, you were technically no longer his. The thought made you feel sick as you reached for the clothing you had laid on your bed. You pulled the shorts on first, reaching for the oversized shirt second, trying to ignore the nausea building in your gut. 
You moved around your room without thinking, flicking the lights off before heading out the door and back down the hall. Satoru had changed into his own pajamas, hair damp from the shower he must have taken while you went to take yours. He only had his bedside lamp on, the pace beside him vacant and waiting for you. “Are you sure you don’t want food?” he questioned softly as you shut the door behind you. “I’ll eat a good breakfast if my morning sickness allows.” Those words felt foreign, referring to your nausea as morning sickness felt so bizarre. “Alright but if you wake up in the middle of the night starving don’t hesitate to wake me up.”
You laughed softly, huffing out an “okay” as you crawled over him and under the covers once more. Satoru pulled the blankets up over both of you before reaching over and flicking off the light. “Goodnight.” he spoke softly, settling into his bed as you rolled onto your side to get comfortable. “Night, Satoru.” You whispered back, eyes already feeling heavy, the comfort his bed offered was no match for the gnawing reality you were facing. For now, you were thankful for it. 
~
“Think fast!” You laughed, hurtling one of the poles directly in Satoru’s direction. He turned, using infinity to block it just before it hit his face. “Nice! Your reflexes are getting faster.” You picked up another weapon, Suguru was watching you intently, an easy smile on his face. “Sugu!” You called, aiming to throw another pole. “Think fast.” you repeated, arm going back before using every ounce of strength to beeline it straight at him. Suguru smiled, summoning a curse easily to deflect it. “Not bad.” you winked, watching him roll his eyes as the curse disappeared.
“Y’all are gross.” Satoru drawled, pushing his glasses up his nose. “We didn’t even say anything?” Suguru countered, stepping out of the shade and into the sun. “You don’t need to say anything, the tension is almost unbearable.” Shoko chimed, twirling her lighter around her fingers as she watched the three of you. This time you couldn’t help but laugh, letting Suguru close the distance and wrap an arm around your waist. “See, gross!” Satoru sighed dramatically as you kissed Suguru’s cheek. “It’s called being in love, something you wouldn’t get, Satoru.” You stuck your tongue out at him, laughing as he rolled his eyes. 
“Well if you’re gonna be all gross and lovey with one another, go do it in private.” 
“Okay.” 
You and Suguru spoke in unison, a shrill laugh leaving you as he bent down and hauled you up and over his shoulder. Naturally Shoko faked a gagging noise, watching as he carried you away with a smile. “They’re so gross.” Satoru commented again, eyes following the two of you until you were completely out of sight. Though, he couldn't deny the small smile tugging at his lips. 
“Suguru.” you slapped his back lightly, he was still carrying you over his shoulder even after entering the dorm buildings. “Hmm?” he paid you no mind as he climbed the stairs, his end destination would be your dorm room… more specifically your bed. “You can put me down now.” You knew he wouldn’t, so you opted for running your hands along his back, feeling his steps falter for a moment before composing himself. “I’ll put you down when I’m good and ready.” 
You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his ass. “Alright, that's it. You’re getting punished.” His words were very matter-of-fact, so much so that you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Okay dad.” Suguru didn’t miss a beat, stalking down the hallway towards your dorm room. “Yeah, I’m trying to become one so it would help me out if you cooperated.” You made a strangled noise, it had been three weeks since Suguru admitted to wanting to get you pregnant. Needless to say, he wasn’t giving up any time soon. 
“You just want a reason to fuck me.” You tried to counter, jumping a bit as he pushed into your dorm room and kicked the door closed behind him. “I don’t need a reason to fuck you, baby.” You couldn't describe the noise you made, whiplash taking over as he tossed you onto your bed. “I guess that’s true…” You pushed up on your elbows, watching him pull his white shirt up and over his head, knocking his hair out of his bun in the process. “You’ll be good for me right?” He was dropping to his knees before you, a gentle plea of his name leaving your lips.
“Atta girl.” he murmured, warm fingers hooking in the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down. You watched him with parted lips, watching the way his eyes observed you. “Already wet? How fucking filthy.” his hands splayed along your thighs, pushing them wide open so he could really look at you. “Just because I picked you up? Or maybe it was from wrapping my arms around your waist?” He teased, pulling one hand from your thigh to spread your cunt open instead. “Tell me, pretty girl… what has you so worked up already?” 
“All of it.” You’re breathless as you look at him, no shame in your eyes as you admit how badly you want him. Suguru smiled, fingers keeping you spread as he watched the arousal pool at your entrance. “All of it, hmm? I make you that horny?” His tone was light but the look in his eyes was anything but. You could feel him devouring you whole. “Yeah, you fucking do.” You tried to keep your hips still, praying he’d do something other than watch you grow wetter by the second. “Tell me something, would you?” he pulled his eyes away to meet yours. 
“Anything.” You comment softly, waiting to hear what he had to say. Suguru smiled, fighting the urge to reach up and tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.” His voice was barely a whisper, pupils blown wide as he looked at you. You audibly groan, face feeling warm as your head falls back. “Eat me out, Suguru.” You drawl, no longer embarrassed by the things he makes you say. “As you wish.” He couldn’t even tease you for such an honest answer. Suguru’s head dipped lower, tongue licking up your inner thighs, teeth grazing the skin eagerly. 
“Sugu…” You whined out, his lips growing closer to your aching cunt. “... can I suck you off after?” 
Suguru’s whole body jolted as you uttered those words, mouth moving to lick and suck along your folds as his honest answer. You took that as a yes. You couldn’t help but squirm as his hands began kneading the flesh of your thighs, all the while his tongue was lapping at your cunt. Each movement sent electricity up your spine, one hand shakily reaching out to hold his head as his lips wrapped around your pulsating clit. “Oh fuck… Suguru…” you were embarrassed by how quickly he had learned to make you cum, the pressure already building in your gut. 
He didn’t slow, rather he slipped two fingers into your slick entrance and scissored them in time with his sucking. He loved to put on a show for you, going as far as to slurp your juices just so he could hear you cry out. You couldn’t think straight when his tongue was wiggling against your clit, stopping every few seconds to suck until your back arched. Suguru continued this until he felt your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling harsh as your moans turned into breathy gasps. He pulled away with a slick pop, smiling deviously as your head shot up to glare at him. “Suguru!” You wailed, letting go of his hair angrily. 
“Not yet, I don’t want you coming yet.”  
“No fucking fair!” you whined, head falling back against the mattress in defeat. “So selfish.” Suguru laughed as he pushed himself off the floor, now making a show of pulling the rest of his clothing off. “There goes your chances at getting head.” you chided, watching as that shit eating grin remained on his lips. “You think this is funny!” you whined again, the echoes of your denied orgasm making you close your thighs to try and alleviate the pressure. Suguru watched you, cock throbbing as he kicked his pants off the rest of the way and tossed them to the side. 
“I do think it’s funny, mostly because you look so cute when you’re so worked up.” his hands wrapped around himself, pumping languidly as you spread your thighs again, eager for more. Suguru smirked, always defiant until his cock was out. “Nah baby, I don’t think you deserve this right now.” he continued to stroke himself, head falling back just a bit as his own aching arousal was finally being relieved. “Sugu…” you choked out in a hushed whisper, mouth watering as he let out a breathy sigh, fingers toying with the sensitive tip. You were regretting your earlier statement. 
“Sugu…” you spoke softly, watching him lift one leg to plant his foot on the mattress, hand still gliding along his shaft as his jaw slackened. He ignored you, continuing to get himself off. He was waiting for you to do something, that realization had you pushing yourself up, pulling your shirt up and over your head and tossing it to the ground. You pulled your legs off the side of the bed, maneuvering yourself until you sat on your knees before him. “Let me suck you off.” breathless, hands folded neatly on your lap as you waited for his response. 
Suguru smiled at you, watching the mattress move as your hips squirmed. “I thought you said the chances of me getting head were gone.” he teased, hand massaging just before the head of his cock, making his own voice falter as he spoke to you. “I never said that.” which was kind of true, you didn’t say those exact words. Suguru cocked an eyebrow, unable to maintain his stern demeanor as your tongue moved to wet your lips, eyes completely focused on his fist. “Please, your hand is so boring Suguru, especially when you could have my mouth.” you tried again, eyes sliding up his torso, admiring the dips and plains of his muscles. 
“When you put it like that, it’s hard to say no.” he murmured softly, letting his cock go. You scooted closer, until your knees were nearly off the edge of the mattress. “Thank you.” You whispered softly, watching his face flush a shade of pink, eyes quickly looking away from you to try and regain some sort of composure. The first touch was always enough to make him weak in the knees, your tongue gliding gently over his weeping tip before lowering to the underside of his shaft. He met your eyes, face still flushed as you looked at him with such adoration. All the while your mouth was doing sinful things to him, your duality was enough to induce whiplash. 
His fingers came up to rake through your hair, guiding you as your jaw slackened, head moving to engulf him in the wet heat your mouth had to offer. “Oh fuck…” Suguru choked when you didn’t stop moving, throat constricting as your nose brushed the unruly mess of black hair at his base. You held yourself there, drool dripping down your chin as your cheeks hollowed. Slowly you dragged yourself back, watching the shiny coat of saliva covering his shaft in your wake. You repeated those motions, finding a comfortable place to bob your head at, his length heavy on your tongue. “So good for me… fuck you’re so good for me… I don’t know what I did to deserve you…” 
You merely hummed, ignoring the slow but steady ache building in your jaw as your hand moved along his shaft. You could tell he was starting to really feel it, his cock twitching every few motions, head tilted back as his eyes fluttered shut. You had to admit you were impressed he managed to stay on his feet. Most times, when Suguru dared to eat you out while you were standing, you were nearly a dead weight in his grasp by the end. The only thing keeping you up was the wall he stuffed you against and his shoulders because he tossed your legs over them. You stopped when you felt him twitching violently, jaw clenched tight as his head shot forward to look down at you.
“Gonna make me cum, pretty girl.” He choked out, hands cupping your cheeks to guide you as you moved your head again. Your hands shot out, holding his thighs tightly as you let him use your head how he pleased, guiding you to a pace that made your eyes water before he stilled all together. You forced yourself to relax as Suguru spilled down your throat, letting you greedily swallow all of it before pulling off of him with a lewd pop. “Fuck…” he nearly fell into the bed, dick still hard as he crawled onto the matress with you. “How about we do this…” he sounded breathless, laying on his side and guiding you to do the same. You knew what he wanted, swollen lips parting as you sighed, settling with your back just barely touching his front. 
You let Suguru grab one leg, lifting it up slowly to create enough space for himself. “Lazy boy…” You teased over your shoulder, letting his arm hook under your neck, large hand resting on your chest. “Maybe I am, but you fucking love it.” You couldn’t complain, not when he was angling his hips and pressing the weeping tip of his cock at your entrance. He pressed into you, adjusting both of your bodies until he found a comfortable position to properly rut his hips into you. All you could do is let him, whining loudly as he split you open, stuffing you full. “How’s that, hmm? Does it feel good?” Suguru whispered against your ear, panting as your walls constricted around him and tried to push him out at the very same time. “F-feels so good…so good…” You whined loudly. 
Suguru didn’t give you a verbal response after that, instead focusing all of his attention on finding a good rhythm to fuck you too. You couldn’t stop the noises that spilled past your lips, each drag of his cock in and out of your heat was enough to make your vision blurry. It took everything in you to at least keep your head up, tilted downwards to watch where he disappeared and reappeared between your legs.  “Suguru…” a breathless plea, one that turned into a steady mantra as all you could think about was him and what he was doing to you. Had you not been so overwhelmed you would have heard his quiet grunts of praise each time your bodies connected. 
Suguru watched a shaky hand slide down your front, in your whimpering daze you managed to slip two fingers down there to rub sloppy circles on your clit. “Gonna cum, aren’t ya?” Suguru gasped, his cock twitching violently as your cunt suctioned to him, nearly making his thrusts falter. “Y-yeah…” you managed to get out, no longer having the strength to keep your head up. You let it fall, resting snuggly in the crook of the arm he was using to support you. “Then come for me, pretty girl. I wanna feel you come all over my cock… then maybe I’ll fill you up, yeah? You’d love that…” you responded with a loud whine, walls fluttering around his length each time he pushed it back in. 
“There we go, come for me.” He encouraged again, warm breath ghosting the shell of your ear and earning a shiver in response. You could feel it, the aching build of a damn that was on the verge of breaking, every breath you made was nothing but a labored pant. Your heart was beating erratically, just as you were about to fall over the edge, Suguru gasped. You couldn’t help but gasp with him, his release pumping into you, hot and sticky. “F-fuck sorry…” he grounded out, his own orgasm sneaking up on him and completely catching you by surprise. Not that it mattered to you, that strained and embarrassed apology was all you needed before you felt yourself coming as well. 
You both essentially collapsed, Suguru holding you tightly as he angled himself to remain inside of you, to keep his cum inside of you. “You okay?” he mumbled softly, hand lazily reaching for the one you had used to rub your clit and bring it to your lips. You whined as he popped the shiny fingers in his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue. “Yeah, I'm good…great really.” You chuckled, eyelids feeling heavy as he hummed. “Good.” he mumbled softly, pulling your fingers from his mouth to kiss them gingerly. “You know I love you, right?” Suguru’s voice was tender, so tender it nearly pulled the air out of your lungs. “Yeah, of course I know that Sugu… you know I love you too, right?” 
“I know.” was all he said in reply, you had to wonder why he was suddenly so sentimental. Suguru was typically softer with you after sex, aftercare was one of his specialties. But something about his tone felt different, something about his question felt like there was more meaning behind it. You had been noticing the bags under his eyes for the last few weeks, but every time you asked he always brushed you off. “Is everything okay?” you tried to turn your head to look back at him, but the angle he had you in proved to make movement difficult. “Mmhmm, just want to make sure you’re okay.” but he hadn’t  been that rough with you. “Yeah, I’m okay… but you haven’t answered me.” He stopped kissing your hand, setting it down gently as he moved to kiss your shoulder. 
“I haven’t?” 
“I asked you if you were okay.”
“Well, I did answer you. I said yes.” he didn’t sound offended, more or less he sounded amused. “Mmhmm isn’t a yes, Suguru.” You, on the other hand, sounded a little less enthused. “I’m okay, baby. Is that better.” you couldn’t see it but you could hear the smile on his lips. “Yeah, that’s better.” But for some reason, you couldn’t shake the worry clinging to your heart. 
~
“Hey… hey…” you woke with a gasp, eyes wet as you tried to remember where you were. “You okay? You started crying in your sleep again.” A worried but groggy voice was speaking to you, one that was familiar but your brain couldn’t seem to catch up. “Y/N? It’s me, it’s Satoru.” There it was, you nearly fell back into the pillow with relief as he spoke. “Shit I’m sorry… I was dreaming and it just… fuck it felt so real. I couldn’t remember where I was…” you wiped your eyes, slowly adjusting to the dark room again. “It’s okay… you’ve been dreaming a lot.” Satoru sighed, he remembered you saying that your nights had been pretty dreamless for the last three weeks so why was that changing now? 
“I know… it just started happening too. Maybe it's because of the baby.”
Your hand lowered to your stomach, palm resting flatley against it. You still couldn’t process the fact that there was something in there, something that was growing, a mix of you and him. “Can pregnancy make you dream more?” Satoru chuckled, blue eyes shifting to read his alarm clock. It was just past four in the morning. You had slept pretty well until a few minutes ago. He had been watching you, woken up by your body growing restless. He woke you up the moment he heard you start to sniffle. “I dunno, maybe.” you sighed, eyes feeling heavy again. “Sorry for waking you, Toru.” You didn’t hear the way his breath hitched, your yawn effectively shutting it all out. 
You hadn’t called him by that nickname in weeks, he hadn’t really realized how much he missed it. “Don’t apologize, I told you to stop that.” Not stern, just tired, he wanted you to go back to normal but he knew that was impossible. Things would never go back to how they were. “Oh, yeah… I guess you have told me that.” You chuckle, turning on your side to face him in the dark. “I won’t apologize for forgetting this time, okay?” You grinned, eyes closing and unaware that he was able to see it in the dark. “Okay.” He sighed, a grin creeping up his own face as he let his eyes shut again. Hopefully you’d sleep through to his alarm at 8:30am, you had a busy day ahead. 
~END OF PART ONE~
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Thank you for reading! I hope you look forward to part 2 <3333
Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated ;3
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bosbas · 3 months ago
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Chapter 4: uh oh, I'm fallin' in love
series masterlist previous part || next part
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pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!daphne's best friend!reader WC: 2.3k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love, anthony being a big softie, mostly fluff, i still ship y/n and daphne tbh
Summary: At her wit's end after Anthony's multiple attempts to scare away her suitors, Daphne employs her best friend's help to keep her brother distracted while she tries to find a husband. It's a foolproof plan, except it ends up working a little too well. (or, a Bridgerton version of The Taming of the Shrew/10 things I hate about you)
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June 16, 1812 - “How’s Mr Norwood?” you asked Daphne, sitting on the couch next to her in the Bridgertons’ tea room, her legs on your lap as the rain steadily poured outside.
Your best friend and her hopefully-husband-to-be had been looking particularly cozy as of late, and you knew that you had played no small part in making that happen. Unfortunately, Daphne’s happiness was often overshadowed by the small pang of guilt you felt every time you had a particularly lovely afternoon with her oldest brother.
“Oh, he’s lovely. I do think he’ll propose in the next few weeks,” she said excitedly, her legs dancing excitedly on your lap.
You squealed in response, absolutely elated at the prospect of seeing your best friend in a wedding gown before the end of the season. It’s practically all she’d dreamed about, and you couldn’t believe the time was so close.
“Where will you live? After you marry, I mean,” you asked, twirling a lock of your hair around your index finger. “If I have to travel to another country to see you, I’ll riot.”
Daphne paused, unsure. “We haven’t particularly discussed it. I think his family has a home a few hours away, but surely his older brother will inherit that…”
You sat up straight, realizing this was a sensitive subject. “That’s quite alright, I’m sure your dowry will be more than enough for a simple estate somewhere nearby,” you reassured, patting her legs comfortingly.
If they were truly in love, it wouldn’t matter how small or large their home was. But Daphne only hummed in response, looking out distractedly at the raindrops hitting the window.
Deciding not to press your best friend and potentially cause her more distress, you changed the subject.
Playing with the hem of Daphne’s dress, you said nonchalantly, “I suppose I’ll end things with Anthony right before Phillip proposes. There’s no real point in continuing the façade if Phillip has to ask Anthony for your hand anyway, so it’s not like we can keep going longer than that.”
Daphne narrowed her eyes at you, smiling slightly. “Really? I thought you two were having a lovely time during your courtship.”
You paused, your hand going still for a moment. “Well, of course. We get along quite well. But it’s not real, Daphne. I don’t really have feelings for him and he doesn’t really have any intention of marrying me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure!” you laughed at the absurdity of your best friend’s suggestion, sounding a bit panicked. “I couldn’t truly be interested in him!”
Just then, you heard the front door open and heavy footsteps coming down the hallway.
Recognizing her brother’s footfalls, Daphne called out, “Anthony, I didn’t know you’d gone out riding. It’s absolutely pouring outside!”
“I can’t believe it actually rained,” he groaned, his voice carrying across the hall. “I thought Colin just said that to be a nuisance.”
He peeked his head into the tea room, looking completely disheveled from what you could only assume was a hectic horse ride. His hair was soaking and stuck to his forehead, his sleeves were dripping water onto the carpet, and he was shivering slightly from the cold. And yet, you thought to yourself, he still looked more handsome than any other man in the ton.
“Y/N!” he yelped as his eyes fell on you, sitting comfortably on his couch as Daphne had her legs propped on your lap. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I’m sorry, I would’ve looked more… presentable. Or at least dry.”
It was the oddest thing, he suddenly seemed impossibly shy. You only laughed and shook your head, waving off his apology.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” you smiled, recalling how reckless young Anthony was when it came to riding.
Anthony crinkled his nose, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s different now, though,” he insisted, still sounding out of sorts. “I can head upstairs quickly to make myself presentable and greet you properly.”
“No, that’s quite alright,” you insisted, finding Anthony entirely too endearing at the moment. “I should probably head home anyway; I’ve been here the better part of the afternoon.”
“Let me walk you home at least,” pleaded the positively soaking man at the entrance of the room. “Or even just call a carriage.”
Your home was only a few minutes’ walk away, and you were usually happy to do it on your own. However, looking out the window you realized it probably wasn’t the best idea to head home in this weather.
“Very well then,” you conceded, finding it impossible to say no to Anthony.
“Alright, give me five minutes, then. Just let me change out of these clothes and I’ll be back,” he yelled over his shoulder, already out the door and rushing upstairs.
“So it's all just pretend, then?” asked Daphne smugly once Anthony was gone.
“Oh, shush,” you grumbled, shoving her legs off you.
But Daphne only laughed gleefully, a knowing twinkle in her eye.
---
June 19, 1812 - Anthony had gone into town on a fine Friday afternoon in search of a new pair of hunting boots when he spotted you some distance away. You were accompanied by your lady’s maid, and you seemed to be leaving the modiste.
Apart from noticing how stunning you looked, even in a simple day dress, Anthony realized a few things.
First, you were far enough away from him and positioned in such a manner that there was no chance that you would see him. He could easily just go on with his day, quickly find the pair of hunting boots he came for, and make his way home.
However, the second thing he took note of is that a gentleman such as himself would always go out of his way to greet the lady he was courting. Perhaps it was time to shift away from the tiring rake act he so often put on and act like a Bridgerton.
And finally, he noted that, in reality, he could come back for a pair of hunting boots at any time. However, he couldn’t unexpectedly run into you every day.
So, with all this in mind, Anthony determinedly shouted your name. When you didn’t hear him and kept walking, he yelled your lady’s maid’s name, who turned around to look at who had called for her. Spotting Anthony through the crowd of summer shoppers, your lady’s maid tugged at your sleeve, turning you around so you could see him.
“Oh, Anthony, what a surprise!” you called, unable to help the bright smile that lit up your face.
How gentlemanly, you thought, for Anthony to go out of his way to say hello. Perhaps he had left behind his rakish ways.
“It’s rather hot today, isn’t it?” said Anthony as he reached you, leaning down to kiss your hand in greeting. “What do you say about going across the street and enjoying some tea?”
Your eyebrows raised in surprise. Greeting you unexpectedly and asking to spend time together? This was quite unusual indeed.
“Is there something you wanted to talk about?” you said, somewhat nervously. Had Daphne somehow let her plan slip? “We were due to see each other this evening at the Featherington ball."
Anthony laughed, enjoying your confusion. It felt quite good to be a gentleman, he thought. “Not at all, I just thought I’d take advantage of the fact that I saw you. I’m not particularly keen on depriving myself of the company of a wonderful lady such as yourself.”
You felt your face growing hot, completely floored by how lovely Anthony was being. It was like his usual charm turned up by a factor of ten.
Looking over at your lady’s maid, you raised your eyebrows to ask if it was alright with her if your plans were derailed.
“Nowhere else to be,” she shrugged her shoulders.
“Perfect, then, let’s go,” you smiled at Anthony.
Hooking your hand into the crook of his arm, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your stomach. Bit by bit, you were realizing you were in far over your head. So far you couldn’t even see the ground anymore. Anthony was turning out to be completely unexpected.
And though you were practically giddy every time you saw him now, you were also fighting to bury the uncomfortable thought that you might have made a grave mistake trying to mastermind your courtship with him.
---
June 23, 1812 - “Well, I suppose I should get going,” Anthony said to Colin, getting up from his chair as he looked at his watch. “Y/N will surely be expecting me, seeing as how we went to a ball yesterday evening.”
Upon hearing Colin snickering in response, the eldest Bridgerton shot his younger brother an annoyed look.
“Do you think this is funny? Wait a few years and you’ll be doing this, too,” Anthony scoffed.
“It’s not that,” said Colin, still chuckling to himself. “It’s just that she’s been here since this morning. I ran into her and Daphne a few hours ago.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” asked Anthony in disbelief.
Colin shrugged. “I thought you’d surely seen her. You’re the one courting her, after all.”
“Why didn’t she ask for me?” grumbled Anthony, mostly to himself. “Well, even more reason to go see her now. Goodbye, Colin. I would say it was a pleasure speaking with you but based on the last two minutes I don’t particularly think it was.”
In response, Colin half-heartedly crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at his brother. “Say hello to your wife for me,” he teased, knowing Anthony’s aversion to marriage.
But his jab was only met with a slammed door. Anthony was too focused on finding you.
How on earth had he not noticed your presence in his home the whole day? To be fair, before you started courting, you spent copious amounts of time at the Bridgerton residence, with or without Daphne, and he wasn’t always aware until after the fact.
You had practically already been a part of the family, but it felt different now. He felt panicked that he hadn’t already greeted you, and he was worried you would hold it against him.
Rushing down the stairs, he ran into Daphne, who was shuffling through a stack of letters in the foyer.
“Who are you expecting correspondence from? A suitor?” he questioned suspiciously.
“She’s in the sitting room,” answered Daphne curtly.
Without a second thought, Anthony dashed across the hall, bursting into the sitting room.
There, he found you and Hyacinth sitting next to each other on the pianoforte bench. Your hands were on hers as you guided her nine-year-old fingers over the keys to form a melody. Startled, you dropped Hyacinth’s hands and turned to look over at the doorway.
“Is something the matter, dear?” asked Violet calmly from the other side of the room, quite used to the antics of her eight children.
“No, no- not at all,” gulped Anthony, not expecting to have seen you with his youngest sister. “I just heard Y/N had stopped by, is all.”
“That’s kind of you,” you said, smiling softly at the man you were courting. “Hyacinth seems to be a natural at the pianoforte.”
“Better than Gregory anyway,” said Hyacinth haughtily, eliciting a hearty laugh from you.
“Well, run along, then, Hyacinth,” urged Anthony. “I believe I should like to speak with Y/N.”
Hyacinth groaned, “She’s not yours Anthony. I believe I should like to stay," she said petulantly. "I was having such a lovely time with Y/N before you interrupted.”
She hugged you tight, lest Anthony tried to make her leave by force. Laughing, you hugged her back, patting her head soothingly.
“No one’s making you leave, Hyacinth,” you shot Anthony a playful glare. “I apologize for not finding you earlier, Gregory has just learned how to play chess and wanted to play a match. And then Hyacinth came in and thought it quite unfair that I had spent such a long time with Gregory and not her. And then, well, you know how they are…” you explained, your voice full of fondness for the youngest Bridgertons.
“Oh, do I,” said Anthony, walking over to ruffle Hyacinth’s hair affectionately. “Who won the chess match?”
Resigning himself to the fact that his little sister wouldn’t leave, Anthony made himself comfortable on the couch closest to you. And though he was hoping to spend some time alone– well, chaperoned– with you, he couldn’t deny that his heart was doing all sorts of gymnastics in his chest at the thought of the care you had for his siblings.
“We each won one and the third was a stalemate,” you responded, winking at Anthony and running your fingers through Hyacinth’s hair. “He’s quite good.”
“I want to learn how to play chess,” whined Hyacinth, detesting the fact that you and Gregory shared something she couldn’t join in on.
“I can teach you next time I stop by,” you promised, smiling fondly at her. “It’s quite a fun game, once you understand the rules.”
And at that very moment, Anthony knew he loved you. It had happened slowly, and then quite suddenly he was extremely aware of it. Much like you had made your way into the Bridgertons’ lives, you had made your way into his heart.
He knew he would be a fool not to see it. All he ever wanted was to take care of his family, and seeing you feel the same way was doing all sorts of things to his heart that he found impossible to ignore. You cared so deeply about his family, and it was difficult not to imagine the pair of you having a child of your own.
Anthony had decided. This was the first and last courtship he would ever have. He was falling faster than he could imagine, and he didn't particularly want to do anything to stop it. 
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reiding-writing · 5 months ago
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could you pretty please write something where spencer visits unsub!reader and she’s incredibly beat up and only responding in slurs and spencer’s like wtf why has no one taken her to the doctor
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THE GUARDS’ HEAVY HANDS
spencer & gn!unsub!reader | 1.3k | unsub!reader masterlist.
main masterlist.
a/n— unsub!reader is in remission babyyy
WARNINGS | reader has been on the receiving end of physical violence from prison guards without medical treatment.
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Four days until the board of appeals made their decision.
Four days until you would know if you truly were going to spend the rest of your life inside a concrete box or be moved to a psychiatric facility and have your psychology picked and prodded at by doctors.
You’ve been ‘visited’ almost every day over the last week, half of your singular recreational hour spent talking to some stupid appeal board official every day for the last multiple days.
You were sick of it.
You knew that they were only bothering you in the hope you’d crack, that you’d say something that could condemn you to your solitary hell and save them the effort and money in placing you in proper psychiatric care.
But you refused to placate them. You refused to let your seething frustration manifest verbally or physically, no matter how much you wanted to.
Four days. That’s all you had to last.
They weren’t making it easy though. Of course they weren’t. Because why would anything in your life ever be easy?
No. Instead you were questioned on the same mundane topics over and over by the officials, dragged harshly from meeting to meeting by the guards, and subjected to torment whenever there was a minuscule break in the monotony.
Your most recent ‘accident’ involved one of the guards shutting the food hatch whilst you still had your hand in it.
‘Accident’, because it definitely wasn’t one, and now you were dealing with a fractured index finger on top of all of the other shit that is making you want to rip your hair out.
Although you couldn’t do that either, considering you had a sizeable bruise spreading over your left temple and onto the side of your head after you’d been pushed straight into one of the phone boxes as an encouragement for you to pick it up.
It was bordering a black eye a few days ago, a mulled purple mark that stretched through your eyebrow and mottled your eyelid, but it was slowly turning green, and it’d stopped hurting now. For the most part anyway.
No use crying over spilt milk. Or a possible concussion.
There’s a sharp bang on your cell door from the side of a fist to garner your attention, along with the grating metal on metal sound as the food hatch slides open.
“Up you get freak, you’ve got a visitor.”
Another stupid visitor.
Another half an hour spend enduring the most relentlessly idiotic questions and torment of your life that you literally had to bite your tongue to stop yourself replying to and dumping all of your progress down the drain.
“Oi!” Another sharp bang. “Didn’t you hear me? Get your ass up!”
“I’m coming—” You bite back the groan that threatens to echo in your tone, muttering a curse under your breath as you’re all but dragged from your cell and thrust down the corridor into the visitor’s room.
Every minute you spent sat at that stupid concrete table in those stupid handcuffs that were way too tight made you want to rip your own hair out, or anyone’s in a five metre radius.
Four days. Then you could forget about this damn appeal and give your ‘handlers’ a piece of your goddamn mind.
And then the door opens.
“Doctor Reid,” You almost sound surprised as you pick up the visitor’s phone. “What brings you here?”
Spencer adjusted his satchel, his gaze fixed on the table where you sat, hands cuffed, a rough bruise blooming along your cheekbone. There was a fresh cut on your lip, a bit of dried blood near the corner of your mouth. The sight made his stomach twist.
He sat down slowly, his brow knitting with concern as he took in the other injuries: your knuckles scraped raw, the angry red welts visible just beneath the collar of your prison jumpsuit.
He was used to violence, certainly, but seeing it on you, someone he considered something close to a… friend, or whatever it was, made him tense with anger.
You didn’t look at him any differently despite it all. When he met your gaze, your expression was flat. Detached, indifferent. He could still tell you’d been through hell though, and as much as he hated it, he hated it. "What happened?" he asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.
For a moment, you just blinked, and then that small sliver of intrigue disappears from your irises to be replaced with distaste.
You scoffed, muttering something under your breath that he couldn’t quite make out. It sounded like you were slurring, words broken, as if the energy it took to have a full conversation was almost too much.
Spencer leaned his elbows onto the table, his heart hammering. "Did they hurt you?" he asked. "The guards… have they been—?"
You interrupted with a barely audible sneer, tossing out a curse that barely registered as coherent. A string of profanity. You spat them out, each word slower and more incoherent than the last.
"Is anyone taking care of you here? Any doctors?" Reid asked, his voice filled with disbelief.
You laughed, a hollow sound that sent chills down his spine. "Doctors," you scoffed. "Sure. Lots of those. Right after the love they give with their fists."
Spencer's jaw clenched. "Has anyone done anything about this? Filed a complaint?"
Another empty laugh. “Who’s going to report them, huh? Me?” you muttered, the words broken by gasps of pain. “And who’s gonna do anything about it?”
The part of Spencer that had learned to remain neutral, clinical, started to unravel. This was wrong. Whatever you had done in your past, this treatment wasn’t justice; it was plain cruelty.
He glanced back toward the door, contemplating the confrontation he wanted to have with the prison staff. But he knew what would happen—they’d brush it off, say you were exaggerating, a troublemaker who’d gotten what you deserved. And maybe they’d even be right… but he couldn’t ignore the bruises, the hollow look in your eyes.
Spencer reached across the table, his fingers brushing the cold plexiglass between you in what’s an almost subconscious want to wipe the blood stain from your mouth. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll try to get someone to check on you.”
You met his eyes again, expression clouded. He could see that behind the apathy, some tiny part of you was surprised. Maybe even grateful.
“Why do you even care?”
Spencer swallowed, the weight of the question settling over him. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with sadness. “But I do.”
You watched him in silence, as if searching his face for a reason, an answer he couldn’t give. Then, a flicker of something softened your gaze—just for a moment, like the smallest fracture in a stone wall. You’d probably deny it later, but he saw it. A spark of relief, of trust, maybe.
He didn’t know if he’d ever get through to you, not completely. But he could try. And that would be enough.
“So, uh,” Spencer fiddles with the phone cord between his fingers. “How are you feeling, about the appeal?”
And you deflate all over again.
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sglossmin · 20 days ago
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Muse | MYG
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Plot: What happens when the man you practically simp over in high school, is right now, sitting across you after almost 10 years of not seeing him? Worse? You're here for an appointment for therapy and he's your psychologist.
Pairing: SeniorStudent!Yoongi x JuniorStudent!Reader ---> Psychologist! Yoongi x Artist!Reader
Genre: Fluff, slight age gap, slice of life, a bit of angst, schoolmates to lovers(?)
Warnings: talks about mental and death...erm lemme know if you found any disturbing heh
Word count: dunno
A/N: This is...actually some sort of based irl looll (only the high school scenes, most of it) This is my first one shot work! Let me know if I'm lacking something. The current series that I'm still working rn is still not even half finished T_T T_T So I thought I might give it a try---write a oneshot heh I just started here to write in tumblr so I still don't know that much stuff. Feel free to comment so I can improve!! Ik some of those thing weren't even a thing at that time...
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"Shit..." I muttered right as I saw the man in a white coat, a clipboard in his arms while his hair softly falls down in his brows, reading his next patient's data. Just like the last time I saw him. Weird, huh? It's been years, yet... he still looks just the same.
Our eyes met, for the first time in a while. He frowned, it was so subtle and fast, no one would even know. But I did. Every little actions that he did, I always notice it. No matter what. I keep saying that the Y/n who just hit her puberty is no longer me, yet with my emotions right now, I can feel like my hormones are all over the place.
"Sit down," he smiled, gesturing the seat across him.
His voice so deep it sounds like soothing lullaby... Eyes so tired that I can tell he works so well... The warmth in his smile makes my heart skip a beat, forgetting why am I here in the first place...
Snap of it!
It took me a second to realize that I stared at him for too long. I cleared my throat, wishing my embarrassment would also go away. I smiled as I took the seat.
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Our session ended without him saying that he at least recognize me. Did it made me upset? Yeah... sort of. I mean, I didn't go there and paid him to reminisce our high school days, but still...
I huffed as I crumpled a paper.
"Ugh! Really? Y/n? Still drawing him?"
I uncrumpled it and stared at the newly drawing for a while. I leaned back in my chair and sighed... "I'll give it to him. He looks hot in that coat." I chuckled and stuck the paper back in my notebook. "I'm keeping it because I drew him too good, not that I still like him or anything. That would be just so stupid."
Ha! Right! Nothing else. I smiled, pleased with how I gaslight myself.
I stretched my back and arms. My body ached for having a shrimp position for a long time.
And before I know it, I fell asleep (again) in my studio.
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Summer 2010
Our last subject just finished and it's still raining heavily. I have no umbrella so my friends and I were forced to run. Reaching the covered court, I groaned. "Why call it summer when it rains this heavy??"
"Do they really think—us—high school students are waterproof?" Exclaimed by Sana while Chaeyoung just chuckled beside us. Our clothes were pretty wet but not that drenched.
We went upstage since there's some chair in there. Putting our bags down, we wait for the rain to stop. Us juniors only have to spend half day in the campus. Lucky, huh?
"Stay here, hm? You both can't leave me just because you guys have umbrella to share and your house are close." I glared at the both of them while they just snickered. They won't leave me otherwise, I know that.
It's been an hour, yet the rain don't seem to plan on stopping. It's about 1 now, we think. Seems like we're the only junior students in the campus. Suddenly, the seniors from the front building went outside. They went in the cover court. They were wearing some sort of costumes. It was ridiculous—Okay, not really. They seemed like they're going to dance.
We sat still from above across them and watch them prepare.
"Hey, Chae, wanna play?" I grinned as I whispered. Sana was too occupied with her phone that's why it was just the two of us who played.
We played Smash or Pass with every senior guy that I pointed. Until finally, I pointed it to the guy who's wearing a Thai hat(?) The gold ones, it seems like part of their costume.
"Hm... Smash!" Chaeyoung laughed and I did too. Cause miraculously, SAME.
We had a great laugh realizing we'd say smash.
We watched them dance and sing along with the music that were playing. Thinking about it, we might actually look like idiots. They can practically see us sing and dance with them since we're upstage.
After a while, I asked Chae, "What nickname should we give him?" It's our thing. Giving nicknames to people whether they look good or annoying. I think it's every friend groups should do.
"He looks like a cat and his eyes disappear too when he smiles... Kitty?"
"Kitty...?" Sounds weird so I proposed to change it. "What about Neko? Same meaning but doesn't sound weird." She agreed and since then, we called him Neko. With his sharp eyes and pale tone, he does looks like a kitty.
Few moments after, we planned a scheme. We went down to compare our height to his. We walked towards him as if we were just passing by and about to go to the canteen instead.
My and Chae's eyes went wide open. Gasping and staring at each other, the signal were sent.
Gosh, he's tall.
Oh gosh, he is.
A day or two passed since that. We randomly saw him when we went to buy in the canteen.
Then again.
And again.
And again.
Untill a few days have been passed and I keep on seeing him. To the point that... maybe... just maybe, it wasn't really a coincidence anymore.
New character unlocked?
When we were about to go back in our room, we met Hani. My bestfriend in elementary days.
"Y/n! Come here! Imma show you something. Actually—no—It's a someone." Hani dragged me and Chae went along with me.
Hani rant about how this guy looks so good, that in the first time in a while, they found someone who actually looks good in this campus.
Chae and I eyed each other. Were we thinking who we're thinking?
As we reached the third floor of the first year's building, across it was the senior's building. We stopped our track right in front of the exact room. The windows were open and from our spot, we can literally see him studying.
"Neko?"
"You know him?" Hani asked in which I nod.
I think we just found our sweet spot.
Chae and I sometimes went up there just to catch a glimpse of him. It was stupid and fun.
Until that day came.
As usual, Chae and I went to the third floor once again. We stayed in the balcony that faces their room. It was break time so everyone was all over the place. Then I felt it. Chae poked my side and pointed my front. I frowned and followed her finger. There was it, his teacher raising her brow at me. Then his classmates turned their heads toward me... 'till lastly, he did. Everyone was looking at ME. I noticed Chae was hiding on the wall divider of the balcony. I looked back at the teacher who's still looking at me.
"Do you need anything, Ms?" We were quite far but it was still audible.
"H-huh..?" That was all I could muster. It was even barely a whisper. My mouth was slightly open due to not knowing what to do nor say. It lasted like that for a few more seconds. Until I mustered all the courage and pride I have left in my body and shrugged it off and walked away. Frowning as if they got it wrong and I was simply hanging out there.
Walk
Walk
RUN
I went back to our room as soon as I noticed Chae was following me. When we get back, we were panting and sweating. Our classmates looked at us with weird looks. Not that I can blame them. One of our classmate asked us and we did tell the story.
It was our last time going in there.
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I felt someone flick my head. I groaned in annoyance.
"Noona, wake up!"
I grumbled as I sit up straight, realizing I fell asleep in the studio again.
"You know you don't have to flick me. Between the two of us, I'm the light sleeper." I mumbled while my eyes were focusing on the big guy in front of me.
He rolled his eyes at me. Up to this day, I wondered who did he got it from. "Eomma wants you to eat lunch with us."
I chuckled. "Your mother did? Wow, what a pleasure." I sassed.
He groaned and plopped himself at the couch. "Can't believe you still resent her."
"Kook, what kind of a daughter am I if I don't?"
Jungkook threw a pillow to me as he stood up. "Still. Eat with us."
And just like that, he walked away.
Life goes on, that's what they say.
I must've been nuts for going to therapy yesterday. It's not like, I'm seriously depressed.
Right..?
Living alone in the house that came from the paycheck of my drawings must be really the best accomplishment I've had. Who would've thought the high achieving in academics girl would end up in this job. It was pure mystery.
I stared at my empty fridge. I smiled. The only thing that kept me sane nowadays is this...
"Looks like, I need to go... shopping."
I grinned ear to ear while I spent my fortune.
"Who needs therapy, when you can go and do your grocery."
I picked out the foods I knew I'd eat while I finish the new dramas. I was about to get the last stock of my fave gummies until someone practically snatched it. Fast.
"H-hey-" I cut off myself from shouting when I realized who it was.
It was him. In normal clothes. Am I dreaming? Impossible. He wouldn't have clothes in the first place if I am.
"Oh, Ms Jeon." He smiled.
Smiled?
He has the nerve to smile after taking that gummy?
But... then again, who need those gummy bears when his gummy smile is practically the sweetest.
He cleared his throat. "Seems like we'll be seeing each other more often."
Uh...what? Is he trying to say that I have a severe mental illness so we'll literally see each other more?? This fucker...
He probably noticed my frown as he chuckled and shook his head. "Uhm, that might've come off the wrong way. I meant, I just moved in in this neighborhood."
Sorry, what..?
I laughed my nervousness away. It's not like we'll be neighbors. This neighborhood is way too big for us to see each other.
Is that why it was my first time seeing him in this grocery store?
"Well, welcome to the neighborhood." I chuckled, probably awkwardly and excused myself.
Damn it. It could've been my chance for us to talk and stuff, but I refused. I mean, with my looks right now? No thanks.
I skipped my lunch and didn't go to our family's house. I plopped myself on my bed and took out my old sketchbook.
Staring at my old drawings of him, it sure did bring back of the memories.
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2010
It's been a month yet we still don't know his name. We already did a lot of different shenanigans just to know it. He must be really like having a low profile. We found his classmate's account yet his are nowhere to be found. Maybe he doesn't go online...
I was staring at my computer, scrolling on whatever stuff pop up, then it hits me. Her sister. Hani's sister!
They're in the same year, so maybe, just maybe, she knows his name.
I quickly typed in to ask her. A girl from our year had a picture with him posted. I sent it to her.
"Hi eonni, can I ask u a question? Is there a chance that you know him?"
*Photo sent*
It took a while for her to respond.
"Uhm yeah, he's from our year"
"Can you tell me his name?"
"Min Yoongi"
"I think that's his name"
Min Yoongi... cute. It suits him.
Hours and hours later, I still couldn't find his account. Then as I was searching, there was this account, he was friends with Hani.
My eyes widen. "Min Suga? Could it be?"
I stalked the account and it was really him. No wonder I couldn't find his account—he wasn't using his real name! Likes to keep a low profile? Bullshit. He has more than 5k followers!
Moreover...he really...looks good.
I wonder if his face reflects his personality.
I added him as a friend and waited for the request to be accepted. I told Chae that if he didn't accepted it within 24 hours, I'll delete my request. I still have pride you know. Don't want to be one of those girls in his inbox.
It hasn't even been an hour and I got the notification. He accepted it! I squealed and danced in my room.
This is what being a youth, right?
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I clicked my tongue as I chuckled bitterly. "Youth is never coming back."
As I turn the pages more, my bell ringed. Jungkook never ring first, he just comes in whenever he wants to. I should really change the passcode. As for my mom, she never really bother coming here.
Expecting no one, I opened the door, only to gape at the man in front of me.
"You...like pies?"
Min Yoongi, in front of me, holding a pie, not just holding, but giving..?
"Uh...how close is your house exactly?" I didn't mean to sound rude, but rather genuinely curious.
He hesitatingly pointed the house across me.
The Kim's house?
"It was my friend's grandparents who lived there. He took them to take care of them and then he sold this house to me." Yoongi explained. His face going like this :]
"So you really did mean that we'll see each other more often..." I mumbled in which he caught. He laughed and gave me the pie.
"My mom kept on nagging me on giving pies. She really worked hard on it. Hope you like it!"
She's here?
I nodded and thanked him. He went back and I did too. The smell of the freshly baked peach mango pie really did things to my stomach.
For the first time, Min Yoongi gave me something.
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Spring 2011
"Let's go hoomeee. Forget it! I'm not going to give it to him!" I murmured while we wait in the senior's balcony. A few steps away from him, we waited. "I knew it I shouldn't have contact him." I mumbled. "He didn't even read my text..." I mumbled. Chaeyoung was practically dragging me. "Look, he seems busy too."
"Would you rather let your drawing and efforts be wasted then?" Chayoung argued.
Then for the meantime, we waited. We walked towards his classroom but he was nowhere. He was just right there few seconds earlier.
"Stupid text."
A week ago...*
Should I really text him? The classes have been cancelled. I'm not sure whether it's a good idea to do it now. Should I make myself known? Or should I keep it anonymous? But I really wanna take a picture with him...
Ugh! My head hurts. Forget it, I'm just gonna do it.
"Hi uhm... So I just randomly draw one of my mutuals and it happened to be you.."
*Photo sent*
"Perhaps you like it?
"I was about to give you this at school tomorrow but they cancelled the classes so... Hope you like it<3
Was I too formal?
It took him hours to reply.
"Oh wow, what a nice piece!"
"Yes I like it, thanks!"
HE REPLIED!!! I muffled my squeal with my pillow as I looked back at his text. It took me hours to see the message and reply too.
"Guess... I'll just give it to you when we bump into each other, maybe(?)"
"Ugh goshhh how am I going to give you this at schoolT^T"
"Just don't give it yet if you're still not ready^^"
End*
I went home feeling defeated. Not able to give him the drawing.
I stared at my bedroom's ceiling before deciding to go online.
2+messages
It was sent an hour ago. I quickly opened the message. He replied to my text earlier in the morning, when I told him to meet up.
"Sorry, I just saw your text message"
"I don't have an internet at school, that's why"
"It's fine, so,I'll just give it to you tomorrow?"
"Okay, sure"
Saying it was fine when I was literally sulking in my room like a child. But that's when I haven't read his message.
Min Yoongi apologized to me.
I giggled like an idiot in my room as I stared at the text messages we shared.
The next day...
"AAHHHH! Let's go hoomeee. Forget it! I'm not going to give it to him!" I whined, it wasn't just Chae and Sana was there for me, but some of my classmates too. They were waiting for me—like usual, we go home altogether. "I knew it I shouldn't have contact him. This is really a stupid stupid idea!!" I ran around the court in attempt to go home.
We're here, in front of the senior's building. Waiting...again.
One of my classmate proposed that they'll just call him to go down. Two of them went upstairs to his room.
Why does he always keeping me on waiting. Does he think he's some sort of a king?
I huffed and were literally losing all my shits. Till I heard them.
"He's here!!" They squealed. Too much of an opposite, I composed myself and cleared my throat. Thank God he's tall so when I'm looking forward all I can see is his chest. I gave it to him and our hands brushed. It was so quick and subtle, yet it already made my heart warm.
As practiced, Chaeyoung smoothly asked him if we can take a picture—for business purposes. I felt too stiff. This is too good to be true. Then I felt it, he leaned closer. Our arms touching, he smiled to the pic.
My heart was about to get off my rib cage. My insides were going crazy, yet, thankfully, I look completely normal outside.
When I got home, he texted me, thanking and saying that he really appreciates it. A warm feeling spread across my whole body.
The next day, my classmates and I talked about the event yesterday. They were bitching about how Yoongi didn't even thanked me and just left. I laughed so hard when I heard that. Because he did. Yoongi did thanked me before leaving, it just happened that it was loud enough for only me to hear it. Now, it felt more special.
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"Have you ever thought of the probable major reason for what you're feeling?"
Here we go again.
How can I focus on what's wrong with me, when you're right here? Worse, as my doctor.
3 more appointments with him. I paid for this, I should at least gain something.
"Maybe... because up to this day, I still blame myself for his death." My head hung low as I mumbled it.
Why do you always have to see my flaw, Min Yoongi?
This infatuation is slowly turning to hatred...
"You know it wasn't your fault."
I turned my head to him with a frown. So, he does remember me?
A tear fell from my cheek. I wiped it before he can even notice. I turned my hands into fist. 6 words. It was only 6 words yet he can already open my bare self.
"I-if I wasn't stubborn. He'd still be here. He followed me. You saw that. If only he didn't. He'd still be here."
I felt a lump in my throat. Those memories. It was too vivid as if it just happened yesterday.
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Spring 2012
"I told you, I don't want to!"
Another day, another argument to have with my mother.
Why is she so pushy on making me go to states?
"It's for your own sake! Studying here at this campus will let you go nowhere."
"What? So eager to get rid of me?!" I yelled while we drive to campus.
"Jeon Y/n! Don't you dare shout at your mother." My father said sternly as he drives.
As we were near the campus, I lost it.
"Drop me off." 1.. 2.. 3... "I said, drop me off, dad." Keeping my voice low yet so stern it could cut apples.
My father stopped the car and I get out of it.
I was mindlessly crossing the road that I didn't notice a four wheeler truck coming at me.
Then I felt a pair of hands pushed me hard, and before I knew it, screams were heard. My mom's loud cries were ringing in my ears. Tears were coming out of me uncontrollably. Blood all over him. I crawled, oh so slowly and trembling. Before I could even reach him, my mom pushed me aside and called for help.
Minutes later, I heard the sirens of the ambulance. I was just there. Staring at him. No words coming out.
It started raining. It was a light rain, yet even with those subtle touch, it made my whole body flinch and freeze.
Till I felt someone's embrace. Someone was covering me with their jacket. Who could possibly care for me if it wasn't my father.
Slowly, I turned my head towards the person.
Why it has to be you?
"Everything's gonna be okay. The ambulance is taking your father already."
He spoke in a soothing tone. Yet no matter how warm or soft his voice is, I can't somehow get out the ice cage I'm in.
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"Do you think your father would want you to think that way? It's been years Y/n, what happened that you're back at this again?"
part 2 read here^^
A/N: okay, I lied. Maybe this isn't gonna be a oneshot... maybe I'll have 2 parts? 3 maybe? I just cut this off here cause I think it was too long. So readers can have breaks hehe. Gonna post the next part tomorrow maybe...
Comment your @ if u guys wants to be added on the taglist^^
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