#i suppose ill visit you again soon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yandere-daydreams · 10 months ago

Text

Title: Nurture.

Paring: Yan!Geto Suguru x Reader x Yan!Gojo Satoru (JJK).

A Continuation Of Nursle.

Word Count: 11.0k.

TW: Dub/Con, Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Unhealthy Relationships, Emotional Manipulation, Implied Imprisonment, Mentions of Pregnancy/Childbirth, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Implied Semi-Public Sex, Forced Marriage, Panic Attacks/Disassociation, Mentions of Stalking, and Nonchronological Timelines. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

[Part One] [Part Three]

You were never supposed to meet Geto Suguru.

It’d been a misstep in the never-ending trudge that was the cosmic timeline; a mistake on behalf of the universe that left you on the doorstep of his temple, glancing between the rustic entryway and the scrap of paper one of your student’s mothers had slipped into your hand a few weeks prior. “They should be able to help with your little problem,” she’d explained with a wink, a knowing glance towards your stiff shoulders, the dark bags under your eyes. “One visit, and you’ll feel like a teenager again.”

You’d smiled politely and told her that you’d give it a try and shoved her note into a drawer below your desk to be swiftly forgotten. You went to a doctor, then a chiropractor, then a psychologist, then briefly considered making an appointment with a fortune teller before finally relenting and deciding that you were, in fact, desperate enough for a miracle healer. It took three trains, two taxis, and more than a handful of helpful strangers, but you’d arrived at the messily scrawled address in one piece. You could still turn around, try your luck with another specialist, another bottle of over-the-counter sleeping pills – sane solutions that sane people fell back on when they encountered problems that sane people had. You could go back to your flat, your ever-growing pile of ungraded tests, and pretend you’d never been here at all. You could do the thing that crazy, desperate people didn’t do, and you could leave.

You took a deep breath, braced yourself, and crossed into the entryway.

An attendant caught you as soon as you’d stepped inside. He was male, middle-aged, wearing the most strained, plastered-on smile you’d ever seen as he bowed his head to you. After a moment of nervous delay, you returned the gesture. “I—Uh, a friend of mine pointed me in your direction,” you stuttered out, doing your best to speak through your anxiety. “She said your head priest could…”

You trailed off, struggling to find the right words. Thankfully, the attendant cut in before you could make yourself look like a complete moron. “Geto-sama?” Impossibly, his smile widened even further. “You’ve come to the right place - he’s a truly miraculous healer. He’s seeing another poor, suffering soul at the moment, but you’re free to wait outside of his sanctuary.”

With a quick nod and a few words of thanks, you were swiftly taken to and abandoned in a small sitting room that, you could only guess, led into the innermost shrine. You sunk into a remarkably uncomfortable wooden chair and managed to sit still for all of three seconds before looking for your next distraction. Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to find.

Two girls sat on the other side of the room; sisters, you guessed, if not twins. One (Mimiko – it’d still be a few days before you learned her name) was perched on the edge of a chair identical to your own while the other (Nanako) sat cross-legged on the floor between her legs, fiddling with a hand-held console as her sister tried and failed to braid her hair. You couldn’t help yourself – a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you watched Mimiko clumsily fumble with the messily divided strands of hair, her frustration written clearly across her expression. You’d always been comfortable around kids, as much as you never wanted to have your own. You didn’t know much about healing priests or mystic illnesses, but you knew how to handle a struggling seven-year-old.

When she looked away from her work, seeming to notice you for the first time, you offered her a bright smile, a quick wave. “Having a hard time?” you asked, gesturing towards her messy handiwork. “I can show you a few tricks, if you’d like.”

There was a long moment of hesitation, a quick look shared with her sister. “I understand if you don’t trust my credentials, but…” You fished out a few spare hair-ties out of your pocket: bright pink and adorned with equally garish bows, the color and design enough to make Nanako’s eyes light up. One of your more absent-minded students tended to forget hers, and you’d gotten into the habit of carrying a healthy stockpile on her behalf. “I did bring my own supplies.”

A few minutes later, you found yourself dutifully combing out Mimiko’s hair while Nanako admired her new pigtails. They seemed reluctant to talk to you, but you did your best to make polite conversation – well, as much as you could with two stand-offish grade schoolers. “Are you two waiting for someone?”

Mimiko pursed her lips, but Nanako wasn’t so shy. “Our dad,” she filled in, the kind of pride only an idealistic child could have for a parent heavy in her voice. “He hates monkeys.”

“Oh.” You did your best to sound surprised, rather than confused. “Does he work for the temple?”

“Mhm – he’s really strong, and super important.” She waited for you to num in acknowledgement, then went on. “You’re here to see him, right? He can definitely help you, if you are.”

Your hands faltered, a lock of Mimiko’s hair slipping out of your loose hold. “Your father’s… the head priest?”

Nanako nodded enthusiastically, and for the first time, Mimiko chimed in, “He’ll probably get rid of your creepy friend.”

This time, you stopped moving entirely. “I’m sorry, my friend?”

Mimiko glanced over her shoulder, moved to speak, but the screen door leading into the shrine slid open before she could answer you. It wasn’t an attendant, this time, but a man in monk’s garb with hair that reached past his shoulders and a grin less strained but just as artificial as that of his attendants. Geto Suguru, although it’d still be some time before you knew to call him that.

His dark eyes found you first, before moving to his daughters. “Girls,” he started, tone more playful than chiding. “Are you bothering my guests?”

The twins exchanged a long, weighty look before Nanako pushed herself to her feet and hurried to her father’s side. With a sigh of mock exasperation, he leaned down, letting her whisper something into his ear as you rushed to finish Mimiko’s braid. You couldn’t make out what she was saying, but it was enough to earn a pair of pursed lips from Suguru, a languid shake of his head. Without responding to her, he straightened his back, already ushering you inside. You took a deep breath, then followed him into the shrine.

He made no attempt to put on a show of false hospitality. Wordlessly, he left you loitering in the center of the very empty, very large room while he stepped onto a raised platform and collapsed onto his side, propping his elbow on a cushioned, stand-alone armrest. This time, when he sighed, it seemed to be out of a more genuine exhaustion, his eyes falling shut briefly as he propped his chin on his fist and brought his free hand to his temples. “I have to apologize for my daughters. If I could watch them constantly, it still wouldn’t be enough.” He opened his eyes, and instantly, you felt the full weight of his stare. If it hadn’t been a feeling you were so used to, it might’ve been enough to send a chill down your spine. “Now, how can I be of service to you?”

You dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek, fighting the urge to fidget. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping, lately. There’s been this weight on my back, like—”

“Like you’re being watched?”

He spoke confidently, as if answering a question he’d written himself. With your hands clenched into fists at your sides, you nodded. Suguru’s head lulled to the side, his smile taking on a satisfied lilt. “I thought so. Tell me – have you had any scorned lovers in the past? Boyfriends, fiancés, that type of thing?”

“A stalker,” you admitted. “But, he passed a few months ago. There was an accident, and—”

This time, he cut you off with a snap of his fingers. It was brief, barely a flash of movement, but you caught something in the corner of your eye – an amorphous shape perched above your right shoulder, a thousand eyes spotted across its baggy skin and a hundred curling tentacles wrapped around your arms, your chest, your stomach. You shut your eyes, winced, and when you opened them again, the creature was gone and Suguru held a small, pitch-black marble between his thumb and forefinger. He took a second to evaluate it before letting out an approving hum and bringing the marble to his lips, swallowing it whole. In your shock, it didn’t even occur to you to look away.

“These things tend to linger.” It was a meager explanation, but you accepted it whole-heartedly. For the first time in months, you were able to straighten your back, to drop your shoulders, to stand up without a single part of you crying out in protest. You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so relieved.

“Thank you,” you nearly gasped, bowing at the waist. “Oh my god, I— I don’t have much money, but—”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask for compensation. Consider this—” A click of his tongue, a roll of his wrist. “—a favor between friends. The most I could ask for is a little of your time, in return.”

You would’ve given him your first-born child, if he’d asked for it. “Of course, anything. I really can’t thank you enough, sir.”

“It’s just— I’ve been trying to find a tutor for my daughters for the longest time, and they already seem fond of you.” For the first time since you’d stepped into his shrine, he sat up, facing you directly. “I understand that you’re a teacher?”

You left the temple a few minutes later, a new number programmed into your phone and a smile brighter than anything you’d worn in years painted across your lips.

You moved in with Satoru the same day he met Himari – as much being told to shove everything you couldn’t live without in a bag because you wouldn’t be coming back to your apartment could be called moving. You would’ve fought it more, but he’d been holding your daughter, and you couldn’t take that kind of risk with her. Not again.

Time seemed to pass in slow, thick clumps. Hours would pass in the blink of an eye and seconds would drag on and on and on until you couldn’t stand the idea of pretending you cared, anymore. A nursery was thrown together in one of Satoru’s guestrooms. When you mentioned that you’d never slept so far from her, Satoru cooed and kissed your cheek.

“It’ll be alright, baby. I’ve got enough monitors to last ‘till she’s eighteen. And, no offense, they’re a little more reliable than what you’ve been using.” Another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. “Besides, I don’t think you’ll want her sharing a room with us.”

Something pricked at the back of your throat. “I could sleep in here, with—”

“Nope.” He was kind enough to shut you down before you could so much as start to get your hopes up. “Honestly, she should count herself lucky I’m willing to share at all.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Instead, you closed your eyes, and when you found the strength to open them again, the world was dark and your body was cold.

Once the novelty wore off, you fell into a steady routine. Once or twice a week, you’d make the trip to Suguru’s temple and do your best to drill seven years’ worth of public education into Mimiko and Nanako while their father saw his unfortunate visitors. They were smart girls, even if they were more interested in your love life than multiplication tables, and when you thought about Suguru had done for you, you couldn’t say you minded spending a few hours of your weekend in a scenic, rural temple surrounded by Suguru’s (sometimes off-putting, but never unpleasant) congregation.

It took two months before you saw Suguru’s composure slip. It’d been a mistake – an accident on your part as much as it was on his – but you hadn’t thought of it in such fatalistic terms in the moment.

You kept your hands in your pockets as you wandered through the temple’s courtyard, stretching your legs while the girls finished a worksheet on long division (chosen by Nanako over English contractions, much to Mimiko’s protest). Idly, eager to give them as much time as you could, you made your way around the inner sanctum’s perimeter, rounding a sharp corner before abruptly coming to a stop.

Geto sat on the edge of the raised porch, eyes closed and his shoulder braced against the side of a support beam. You moved to flee, to apologize for interrupting his meditation, but you noticed his hunched posture, his slightly parted lips, and let out a breath of a laugh, your panic fading into pity.

Ah, the poor thing.

He was so tired, he’d fallen asleep sitting up.

As little as you’d expected to see a grown man sleeping in public, you weren’t surprised. Suguru was always running himself ragged; either hosting guests or holding sermons or running errands on the temple’s behalf, always coming back with a certain weight to his steps and an off-kilter quirk to his smile. With a sigh, you kneeled next to him and after a moment of hesitation, shrugged off your coat, taking care not to wake him as you draped it over his shoulders. Immediately, he relaxed – an ounce of the tension in his shoulders dissolving as he slumped into himself. You’d considered waking him up, but decided against it. Your own months of sleepless nights and never-ending days were still fresh in your memory. You didn’t want to be the reason he missed out on a few precious minutes of much-needed rest.

You heard a screen door slide open, a high-pitched voice call your name from the other side of the temple. You pushed yourself to your feet, but paused, spared another glance toward Suguru. It was a stupid, spontaneous thing to do, you didn’t give yourself time to think better of it before brushing his bangs away from his face and pressing a kiss into his forehead – the kind of kiss you’d give to one of your students in the wake of scraped knees and playground arguments. When he failed to stir, you pulled back and crossed your arms over your chest, doing your best to keep yourself warm as you started back to where his girls were waiting for you.

Satoru was at your door as soon as the bell rang.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you must’ve known he wouldn’t give up old patterns so easily. He loitered in the hallway while your hyper-active students filtered out, slipped inside as the last of the stranglers did their best not to gawk at the inhumanely tall stranger with unnaturally white hair. By the time he crossed the threshold, you and Megumi were the only ones left, the latter dutifully waiting for his daily busy work at the corner of your desk.

Satoru acknowledged him with a click of his tongue, a quick ruffle to Megumi’s hair before he moved onto you. “There’s my pretty girl,” he half-said, half-sung as he slung an arm around your neck, pulling you into his chest. “Had you on my mind all day. Couldn’t stop wishin’ I had your pretty ti—”

You cleared your throat into your hand, nodding pointedly towards Megumi. Satoru’s grin faltered, then collapsed into a pursed-lipped frown. He didn’t say anything, but his thumb dug into your shoulder, his cruel eyes flickering to you over the dark lenses of his glasses. You didn’t need any further instruction. If Suguru taught you anything, it’d been how to get rid of unwanted company.

“Megumi.” You waved him toward you, and despite the mix of distrust and exasperation written clearly across his expression, he stepped forward. Still, you braced yourself before going on. As little as you wanted to associate him with Satoru, to blame him for what Satoru did to you, you hadn’t been able to meet his eyes all day. Whenever you looked at him, you couldn’t help but think about Himari, and whenever you thought about Himari—

“You usually walk home with Tsumiki today, right?” He didn’t, but you couldn’t think of a better excuse. Lately, it was all you could do to put one word in front of another, let alone actually manage to clear away enough of the thick, buzzing static clouding your mind to form an intelligent thought. “You should really get going, before she starts to think you left without her.”

His gaze dropped to the ground. He mumbled something just a breath below audible, and you forced yourself to smile. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I don’t want to leave you alone with him.” His tone was clipped, his eyes narrowed. “He’s… He’s gross, and weird, and you shouldn’t talk to him.”

If he’d been any other kid, if Satoru had been any other adult, you might’ve laughed, chided him for speaking so rudely about his elders. Instead, you only sighed, your smile faltering as you brought a hand to his shoulder. “We’re just going to have a little chat, that’s all. I promise, I’ll be just fine when we see each other tomorrow.” You paused, lowered your voice into something playfully conspiratorial. “Between you and me, I think he’s pretty weird too. Thanks for looking out for me.”

His scowl deepened, but he didn’t protest. After tossing one more glare in Satoru’s direction, he trudged out of your classroom, letting the door slam behind him. You didn’t have time to feel relief or dread or much of anything before Satoru was on top of you – his knee planted between your thighs, one of his hands groping at your waist while the other caught your chin, holding you in place while his lips crashed into yours, the kiss mess and open-mouthed and desperate. “The brat’s annoying,” he muttered, as he pulled away. “But I can’t say I don’t see where he’s coming from. If you’d been my teacher, I don’t think I would’ve been able to stop myself from bending you over your desk ‘n earning a little extra credit.”

A wave of nausea washed over you. You couldn’t stop yourself from buckling forward, but Satoru had already moved on, found his way to the side of your neck. “Please, don’t talk about my students like—”

Your voice gave out as he bit down – burying his teeth in your throat in less of a love-bite and more of an effort to eat you alive. You barely managed to stop yourself from crying out, but panic quickly swallowed whatever pain you might’ve felt. It’d leave a mark, one you wouldn’t be able to hide, not completely. Against your will, your mind flashed to Megumi and, if you’d been just a little weaker, you might’ve collapsed, passed out while Satoru lapped the blood now trickling down your throat. If you’d been just a little luckier, you might’ve fallen apart entirely.

Your hands shot to his hair, and Satoru let out a throaty groan. His hands fell to your thighs, and before you could so much as think to struggle, you were laid across your desk, folders and worksheets pushed aside in favor of trapping your body underneath his. “Always wanted to do this,” he muttered into your shoulder, already pulling your skirt to your waist. “Might have to go into teaching, too – just so you can return the favor.”

He might’ve gone on, but you were done listening.

You would have to request a change of classroom, tomorrow morning.

Nanako returned your coat to you a week later, rolling on the balls of her feet and grinning from ear to ear.

You saw Suguru more often, after that.

Granted, not too often, and never for very long. He was still a busy man, and most of your interactions were limited to minute-long conversations as you found each other heading in the same direction, a few niceties exchanged as you dropped Nanako and Mimiko off at the door of his shrine. He never struck you as overly guarded, but you could count the number of times you’d heard him speak about himself on a single hand. If it hadn’t been for his girls, you probably would never have learned his given name.

Winter had begun its swift and relentless approach, and you found yourself standing outside of the temple’s gates, watching the sun slip below the horizon and debating if it would be worth it to cough up the cash for a taxi, rather than dragging yourself through the labyrinth that was public transportation in the dark. As you checked your phone for the dozenth time, you caught a flash of movement in your peripheral and glanced up only to find Suguru – changed out of his monk’s garb and into a plain shirt and a pair of sweatpants that made him look more like an exhausted college student than the head of his own temple. He nodded to you by way of greeting, and you flashed him a smile. “Waiting for someone?”

“Something like that.” You looked back to your phone and sighed. “I might have to make our next session a little earlier. I forgot how dark it could get and, well, you know what it’s like in the city.”

You withered, but Suguru only brightened. “Let me give you a ride.”

“Are you sure? I’d hate to—”

“Please, (Y/n).” You could see why he had such a dedicated congregation. When he spoke, it was impossible not to listen. “Just think of it as a favor between friends.”

You wanted to refuse, to tell him not to waste his time, but a streetlamp buzzed to life somewhere above you and the last trace of your resolve crumbled. A few minutes later, you were in the back of a sleek, black car – Suguru sitting next to you and his driver hidden behind a tinted partition. More time than you would’ve liked passed in tense silence before you, more motivated by discomfort than gratitude, broke the quiet. “I was surprised when I found out Nanako and Mimiko were homeschooled.” Before he could respond, you realized how it must’ve sounded and tried to backtrack. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that! It’s just—you’re always so busy, and they’re such bright girls. I’m sure that, if you ever did want to get them enrolled, they’d do very well. It’d free up a lot of your time, too.”

You thought you saw him wince, but it could’ve just been a trick of the light. By the time you turned to face him properly, his expression was unreadable – his lips pulled into a thin line and his dark eyes focused on some unseen point in the distance. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this,” he admitted, before letting an airy sigh. “But… I made a lot of bad choices, when I first took them in. The were a bad situation, and I was young and stupid, and I— I think I might’ve fucked things up. For them, at least. I probably would’ve ended up in the same place eventually.” Another sigh, a lengthy pause. When he went on, his tone was heavier, his usual confidence greatly diminished, if not absent entirely. “…you don’t think I made a mistake, do you?”

You took a second to think, letting your eyes fall to your lap. “I don’t,” you said, finally. “The girls seem happy, and you’re providing for them. They won’t have normal lives, but—” You hummed, shrugged. “Who does?”

He seemed to relax, the harsh edges of his expression dulling. His eyes shifted to you. “You’re not going to tell anyone, right?”

This time, you didn’t hesitate at all, shaking your head with a slight smile. “Consider it,” You let your tone dip into something teasing and secretive, raising your chin the way he tended to when talking to guests and members of his congregation. “a favor between friends.”

Your showmanship earned a dry chuckle, a softened gaze. After a long beat, he asked, “Would you mind if I, uh…” He trailed off, tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Would you mind if I tried something?”

Now, it was your turn to laugh. You’d assumed he was in his mid-twenties, but he must’ve been younger – he was acting like a teenager. “Go ahead, Suguru.”

Despite your reassurance, he stalled for a few seconds before, more than a little stiltedly, bending at his waist and resting his head gingerly on your lap. It was an awkward position, the back of the car too cramped for him to lay down properly, but his eyes fell shut and after the initial shock faded, you could only smile, raising a hand and combing your fingers idly through his hair. When you pulled the elastic band holding his half-bun together out of place, letting his hair fall loose over your thighs, he didn’t protest, only going that much more limp on top of you.

You two stayed that way for the rest of the trip; his head in your lap, your finger carding through his hair, the only noise that of traffic and the occasional muted hum when your attention started to drift. It was only when his driver pulled onto the curb in front of your complex that Suguru raised his head, blinking himself back into consciousness. You turned to let yourself out, only to feel him take up one of your hands – his fingers soon intertwined with yours. You didn’t have time to ask him what he was doing before you felt him cup your cheek, before you felt his mouth against yours.

The kiss was gentle but warm, shallow but lingering. He held you there, his lips barely yours, for a second, then another, before you snapped out of it and pulled away – your disgust as immediate as it was it was self-concentrated. If Suguru felt the same way, he hid it well. You could only make out the slightest trace of hurt in the down-turned corners of his parted lips.

He started to say something, but you were already rushing to apologize. “I’m sorry, Suguru. You’re a sweet kid, but I’m—” You forced yourself to laugh, the noise jolting and strained. “I’m nearly twice your age.”

He pursed his lips. “I don’t care how old you are.”

“Exactly.” You shook your head, dragging a hand over your face. “I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve been more clear about, I don’t know,” You gestured vaguely. “—everything. And I should really—”

Again, you moved to leave, and again, he stopped you. This time, he caught you by the wrist. “I’m not a kid.” You tried to pull away from him, but his grip tightened. You felt something in your forearm begin to ache. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll show you how serious I am.”

“Absolutely not.” You pried the door open and jerked away from him just in time to stumble out of his car and onto the pavement. You saw his posture straighten, his body tense as if he was going to try to lunge at you, but mercifully, he must’ve thought better of it. His anger was, instead, focused entirely into his unblinking stare, and you did your best to speak in spite of the way his eyes burnt into your chest. “I… I think it would be for the best if we didn’t see each other, for a while. Tell the girls I’m out of town, and—” You swallowed, dryly. “—I think you should get some rest, Suguru. You need it.”

As awful as it made you feel, you slammed the door shut before he could respond. He didn’t try to chase you, but his car hadn’t moved by the time you made it to your flat. With your doors locked and your blinds pulled shut, you watched it until, hours after midnight, you nodded off.

He was gone when you woke up, and you could only hope he’d be mature enough to mind his distance.

Satoru’s face was buried between your thighs when you heard his phone ring, his hands curled around your thighs and your body perched on the edge of one of his rarely used marble counters. You would’ve missed it entirely if you’d been a little closer to the edge, if he’d been just a little nosier as he moaned and grunted into your cunt, but you weren’t, and he wasn’t, and the sound of that melodic dial-tone cut through the haze like a knife through fog (relatively ineffective, but still violent enough to draw attention). You straightened as much as you could, combing your fingers through his hair and tugging, gently. “Satoru, I think—”

“It’s not important,” he muttered against your thigh, drawing back just far enough to be audible. “’s probably just the kids. They said they were coming over, but—” He flashed you a smile, bright eyes catching the light. “They can wait ‘till we’re done. I can’t just leave my pretty girl unsatisfied.”

Immediately, the haze stiffened and shattered into a panic-inducing, heart-racing clarity. You straightened, cursed under your breath, but Satoru tongue was already lapping over your soaked slit, the bridge of his nose grinding against your clit as he all-but worshipped your pussy. This time, you didn’t tug, but pulled – doing what little you could to pry him off of you, but all you earned was a throaty whine, his fingertips dug that much deeper into the plush of your ass. His tongue bullied its way past your clenching entrance, curling and thrusting, and it took everything you had not to snap your thighs shut around his head, not to give him what he wanted. “Satoru,” you spat, using the same tone you’d put on for a misbehaving student. “S-stop.”

It was more of an instinct than a decision, more of a reflex than a choice, but either way, it didn’t seem to make a difference. With his eyes blearily focused on your expression, his mouth latched onto your pussy like it was the last thing he’d ever taste, he fucked you open with his tongue until your toes were curling, your legs twitching, your vision burning pure white in a way that made you wish you could give up on sight altogether. He nursed you through your climax until the last of your energy was spent before pushing himself to his feet and slamming his mouth into yours – his teeth cutting into your lips and your taste heavy on his tongue. By the time he pulled away, you were panting and he was wearing that awful, careless grin. You never thought you’d miss Suguru’s calculated smile, and yet.

And yet.

You didn’t have time to be angry. The kids came first – a thought that, if you’d given yourself a chance to linger on it, would’ve been more of a cause for concern. “Go clean yourself up, I’ll take care of the kitchen. Call them back as soon as you’re finished.”

“I love it when you get bossy,” he said, with a dreamy sigh. “It’s hot in a, like, ‘put me over your knee and spank me’ way, y’know?”

Your only response was a quick shake of your head, a repulsed curl of your lips. Satoru only laughed, pecking your cheek and burying his face in the crook of your neck. “They’ll love you. Megumi likes to act shy, but he can’t shut up about you. Tsumiki’ll just be ecstatic to have a baby sister,” he mumbled into your throat. “You wouldn’t break their hearts, would you?”

It might’ve hurt less, if there hadn’t already been two little girls somewhere in Japan who knew that you absolutely would.

You called Suguru from the curb in front of your flat, your head in your hands and tears streaming openly down your cheeks. He let it ring once, twice, before answering. You could practically hear the smile in his voice, practically feel the smugness in his tone. “I thought we weren’t talking, dear?”

You swallowed back another ragged sob. “It’s back.”

He was there within the hour – alone, this time, no girls and no driver. You stayed where you were as he let himself into your flat, returning only a few minutes later with a thoughtful hum and a thin frown playing on his lips. “It’s rare, but it does happen,” he started, as he sat down next to you. He was dressed in street clothes, rather than his monk’s garb. Somehow, that only made it more difficult to look at him. “Particularly restless spirits can lie dormant before reappearing stronger and more attached to their living host. A standard exorcism might no longer be enough to banish it.”

You felt something heavy and pointed drop into the pit of your stomach. Calling it 'stronger' was an understatement – you couldn’t believe something so massive, something so awful had ever been attached to you. When you let your mind wander, you could still see its dripping, pitch-black arms writhing over the walls and ceiling of your bedroom, still feel its countless eyes burning into you – a hundred, no, a thousand times worse than it’d been when Suguru had first sent it away. You buckled at the waist, burying your face in your knees, and Suguru rested a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles into your shoulder. You were thankful for the comfort, even if it would’ve taken you another few weeks to completely forget the feeling of his hand around your wrist. “Can you…” You cringed, shrunk into yourself. “Can you help?”

“Oh, absolutely.” If he’d been just a little more cocky, he would’ve been purring. “But I’m afraid it’ll cost you more than a favor, this time.”

“I’ll do anything.”

“I know.” His hand went still, settling on your shoulder. “But I need you to give me something, this time.”

You didn’t hesitate. “Anything,” you repeated, with all the desperation of a sinner laid bare before the altar. “Please, Suguru. Anything.”

“I need an heir.”

You could practically feel your heart split open and shatter inside of you. “…an heir?”

“For the sake of my congregation,” he said, like that explained anything. “We’ll have to get married first, of course. You’ll be taken care of until the child’s born, and then, you’ll be free to go.” His hand fell to your own, squeezing gently. “Or to stay with us, if that’s what you prefer.”

Any other time, the idea alone would’ve been enough to make you sick. Any other day, you would’ve told him that he could have anything, anything but that.

But, in the moment, all you could seem to think about was your flat and the monster inside of it. You felt yourself nod and, before you could take it back, heard Suguru laugh, felt his lips against your temple. “You’re making the right choice,” he muttered, the words nearly lost against your skin. “I love you.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it back.

Tsumiki and Megumi were asleep in the guest room turned makeshift nursery. Megumi had been slow to warm, quick to hear Satoru introduce you as his ‘one and only’ and assume the worst (which, to be fair, wasn’t exactly wrong), but Tsumiki hadn’t been so stand-offish, and ultimately, whatever concerns an eight year old could have for your safety crumbled under his sister’s desire to fawn over your newborn. You were glad. You didn’t want him to worry about you. That was a mistake you’d made with Nanako and Mimiko. You’d let Suguru give them a reason to care if you left, and then, you’d left.

Your gaze drifted to Himari. She’d always loved attention (a trait you could only assume she’d inherited from her father), and she’d spent most of the afternoon and the entire evening basking in Tsumiki and Megumi’s adoration. Currently, she was sitting in your lap, giggling and clapping her hands together as you idly bounced her on your knee. The sight alone was enough to make your heart soar – any thoughts of Satoru and his wards fading into the background as you leaned forward and peppered her tiny face with kisses. It was a miracle that you loved her at all, let alone as much as you did. Pregnancy hadn’t been kind to you, and it wasn’t until the moment she was born that you could stand to think of yourself as a mother of a child, rather than just the incubator to a cultist’s pipedream. You’d never wanted children, but now that you had one, you couldn’t imagine letting anything in the world take her away from you.

Maybe, if he’d been a little kinder to her, if he hadn’t already had two daughters to spoil and adore, you might’ve been able to justify loving Himari less than you did, might’ve been able to leave her in his care when you pried a window open and fled in the middle of the night. He’d never been cruel to her, but no part of you believed that he wouldn’t have been if she’d failed to do what she’d been made for – if your love for her hadn’t been enough to keep you by his side. Even if you hadn’t loved her at all, you still would’ve taken her with you. No child deserved to be left in the care of a monster like Suguru.

You choose, deliberately, to only think about Himari, to tell yourself that you only ever had to think about Himari. You couldn’t afford to break your own heart a second time.

Choosing not to think about Megumi and Tsumiki proved more difficult.

It was a courthouse wedding, the ceremony little more than a few signatures and a hesitant ‘congratulations’ from the officiant. Suguru’s assistant – a blonde woman who looked at you with equal parts sympathy and disgust – acted as the witness. Suguru explained that, after your first child was born, there would be a more elaborate ceremony, something with rings and dresses and flowers that the girls could participate in. You were too dissociated to point out that there wasn’t supposed to be anything after the child was born, let alone something that would leave you that much more bound to him.

You expected him to take you back to your flat, or the villa on the outskirts of the city you’d visited a handful of times when he couldn’t meet you at his temple, but instead, you found yourself standing in front of one of the tallest, brightest hotels you’d ever seen. “It is a special occasion,” he said, as you stared blankly at the entrance. “I wouldn’t be a good husband if I didn’t spoil my wife now and then, right?”

“Please,” you muttered, nearly under your breath. “Don’t call me that.”

“Whatever you say, my love.” His smile was giddier than you’d ever seen it, amusement heavy in his voice. “Let me give you a hand.”

The interior was no less agonizing than the exterior. You could feel a hundred pairs of eyes burning into you as you hung off Surugu’s arm, your own legs too weak to be trusted to support you. Rather than relief, dread coiled in the pit of your stomach as he led you to your room – a suite on the highest floor. You considered, briefly, trying to tell him that you were afraid of heights, but decided against it. Even in your own head, it sounded too childish to be believable, and you couldn’t imagine dragging this out for a second longer than it absolutely had to be.

You stepped into the room and were immediately reminded that Suguru had been the one to make the arrangements. A bottle of wine sat in a bucket of ice on a velvet-cushioned ottoman. Bouquets of roses and their disembodied petals had been carefully spread across every possible surface – painting the room with misshapen splotches of bright red. A colorless atrocity of white silk and lace had been laid across the king-sized bed. You got close enough to recognize it for what it was (bridal lingerie, veil and all) before turning away and collapsing onto the foot of the bed, your vision blurry and your heart racing.

You felt your mouth go dry, your throat tighten, but you forced yourself to speak. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the silence. “Am I—” A pause, a distraught glance towards the monstrosity. “Am I supposed to wear that?”

“I might’ve been a little overzealous,” he admitted, stepping in front of you. Slowly, he lowered himself onto one knee, taking your hands in his. “I’ll be gentle, if that’s what you’re worried about. The only thing I want you to feel is pleasure.” He brought the underside of your wrist to his lips. “I love you.”

You couldn’t be sure what it was. How sincere he sounded, maybe, or how young he looked kneeling in front of you, away from his temple and out of his costume. He kissed the back of your hand, and a ragged sob tore past your lips, all the tears you hadn’t been able to shed during the ceremony suddenly beading in the corners of your eyes. As you tried to keep them at bay with your free hand, Suguru’s smile wavered, and for the first time that you’d seen, fell away completely.

He posed the question softly, carefully. You wished he would’ve been just a little more eager to break you. At least, then, you could’ve hated him for it. “…you really don’t want to do this, do you?”

There was no point trying to lie. You shook your head and watched as Suguru deflated. His eyes had always been dark, but in that moment, you could’ve sworn they’d never seen any light at all.

Before you could brace yourself, his mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise. You tasted blood, felt his tongue rake over yours; whatever gentleness he’d promised to show you little more than a distant fantasy. As his mouth moved against yours, his hand slipped under your dress – two fingers dragging over your slit through your panties before his thumb found your clit through the thin material and he pushed a rough, impulsive pattern into the sensitive bud. You shrunk into yourself, your hands finding their way to his chest before you could stop yourself from trying to push him away, but Suguru didn’t seem to care, to notice. Your panties were torn away entirely, and like a man possessed, he fell back to his knees between your open legs and started to devour you whole.

Your thighs were pulled onto his shoulders, his hands curled around your hips as the flat of his tongue laved over your slit, teasing the entrance of your pussy and flicking over your clit. He alternated between tracing vague figure-eights into your cunt and lapping up the slick starting to drip from your poor, confused pussy – your exhausted body eager to accept any affection Suguru had to show you, if you could even call what he was forcing onto your affection. You tried to reach for him, to pull him away from, but you failed to so much as make contact before he let out a near-violent snarl, calloused fingertips burrowing into vulnerable flesh as he pulled you that much closer, hauling your ass off the bed and leaving you on your back, your arms crossed over your face and your ankles crossed over his back. You sobbed openly, now, but your disparate cries were interrupted by cracked whimpers and half-swallowed mewls – little, pathetic sounds you didn’t have the strength to suppress. Suguru didn’t stop. Honestly, you would’ve been surprised if he could hear you at all over the sound of his own heady panting, of his tongue fucking into your now-soaked cunt.

You almost regretted not taking him back to your flat that first night – when he kissed you like you were the most delicate thing in the world. If you’d given in right away, he might’ve had the self-restraint to hold back. Or, to try to, at least.

One of his hands left your waist, falling low enough for the pad of his thumb to press into your clit. Messily, roughly, he toyed with the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves as his tongue thrust shallowly into your cunt, curling and splitting apart the hot, clenching walls of your pussy. You felt a deep, full-chested moan reverberate up the length of your spine, and that was enough to leave you tumbling over the edge, to leave your thighs clenching around his head as you came undone on his tongue. He ate you out through the aftershocks, but didn’t stop - fucking you open with his tongue until you’d stumbled through another climax, then another, a mix of slick and saliva soon coating his chin and staining the sheets below you. By the time he pulled away, you were crying not from despair, but overstimulation; pangs of pure heat searing your nerves and leaving your cunt aching for reprieve. You were only vaguely aware of the mattress dipping beside you, of his chest pressing into yours as he kissed you for what felt like the hundredth time. As his lips pressed into yours, you decided that, if tonight was the last time you ever had to kiss someone, it wouldn’t be so bad. Not when compared to the alternative.

“I love you,” he mumbled, and then again as he pulled away, “I love you.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Your voice felt like something you were no longer entitled to use; a vague concept that’d been placed at an inconceivable distance by some cruel deity. Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Suguru bare his teeth in frustration. Your dress wasn’t so much removed as it was torn away from you, and you couldn’t help but wither without it. Modesty could only count so much when you could still see your arousal coating his lips, but still, it hurt.

With an arm wrapped around your waist, he pulled you into the center of the bed and haphazardly dragged his shirt over his head. You shouldn’t have been surprised. You’d seen his bare arms plenty of times, watched him lift Nanako and Mimiko clean off the ground without so much as a trace of strain, and yet, something inside of you still curled up and died as your eyes raked over his sculpted chest, the corded muscle that seemed to cover every inch of him. More out of shock than anything, you moved to sit up, to put some distance between yourself and a man who looked like he could’ve torn your head off your shoulders on a whim, but he was quick to stop you, to press a palm into your chest and force you back onto the bed. With his other hand, he dragged his pants down just far enough to free his cock and, instantly, whatever desolation you might’ve felt at the sight of his bare chest was multiplied ten-fold.

You didn’t realize you were shaking your head until you moved to speak, your voice shaking and small. “That’s not going to—”

“It will.” That authority – that tone of absolute control – was back in full force. Still, you couldn’t seem to make yourself believe him. “I won’t stop until it does.”

Your heart fell into your stomach as he dragged his swollen, leaking tip over your pussy – the flushed head catching on your abused clit and drawing an airy whimper past your lips. He was, by far, the biggest man you’d ever seen, let alone slept with. As if that wasn’t enough, he was already harder than you knew someone could be – thick, pearly beads dripping from his tip and down his shaft, his more prominent veins almost pulsing as he aligned with your entrance. Even his balls were fucking huge.

Fit for a breeder, something vicious and awful whispered into the back of your mind. You tried to ignore it, but you couldn’t disagree.

Your eyes darted to his expression and met his, already blearily focused on you. You opened your mouth, but anything you might’ve said was stolen away from you as his hips bucked forward and he thrust into you, bottoming out in the same motion.

You’d been right, when you’d tried to stop him.

He was going to kill you.

Already, he was too much. A fresh wave of tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his cock threatened to tear you apart. Suguru let out a raspy groan, his head falling forward and he drew back, pulling out of you until only his head remained in your pussy only to snap his hip and bury himself that much deeper, only to stretch you that much further. “See?” One his hands fell to your lower stomach, the heel of his palm pressing into the soft flesh like he could feel the outline of his cock. He might’ve been able to. You were too scared to check. “You’re a perfect fit.”

There was another grunt, another breathy groan as he fell into an unsteady pace – every thrust brutal and back-breaking. His hands found their way to the headboard, curling around its upper edge as he fucked into you. He didn’t so much find the right spot as find a way to hit every spot constantly, his cock filling your pussy to the brim, leaving you desperately trying to clench down around him to no avail. A high-pitched whine – fractured and pathetic – tore past your lips, and Suguru let out an airy chuckle. “Not gonna be able to get enough of this.” His pubic bone scraped against your clit and you threw your head back, your back arching off of the mattress. Your sensitivity was rewarded with another laugh, a hand brought down just to grope idly at your chest. “I can’t let you out of my sight, from now own. I think I’ll lose my mind if I have to go a day without feeling this perfect pussy wrapped around my cock.”

It was hard to think, let alone piece two words together. Still, you managed to spit something out, fighting to speak above the sound of skin against skin, hips against hips. “B-but, you said— the baby—”

“Fuck the baby. This—” He slapped your clit, his touch harsh enough to make you cry out. “—is all mine.”

A hand around your throat, a new brutality to his thrusts. His grip wasn’t tight, he wasn’t choking you, and yet, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think about anything other than his cock and the feeling of your cunt being split open around it. “You’re mine.” If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought he sounded relieved. “And you always will be.”

Meeting Suguru had been a mistake. Asking for his help had been a mistake. Agreeing to this terrible deal had been a mistake.

But, cumming around his cock as that final possessive sentiment trickled past his lips was the biggest mistake you’d ever made or ever would make, again.

Your cunt clamped down around him – a vice around his cock. With your fists balled around satin sheets and your legs wrapped around his waist, your body convulsed underneath his, your pussy doing everything in its limited power to milk him dry. You heard Suguru curse under his breath, his hips pushing flush against yours as something thick and searing flooded into your cunt. What little managed to leak out around the base of his cock was caught with two fingers and forced back in; no drop wasted.

With a heavy exhale, Suguru dipped lower, his lips grazing over your cheek, then the curve of your neck. You shut your eyes, letting yourself deflate. It was over. No matter how you might’ve felt, no matter how much you might’ve wanted to crawl out of your skin, it was ov—

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he pulled out of you, only to push back in; his rough, punishing pace only made slightly more bearably by the weight of his orgasm.

The next morning, you’d wake up to Suguru’s arm around your waist and a pregnancy test on the bedside table. It’d be too early to tell, but you wouldn’t bother to so much as open the box. Nothing could’ve kept Suguru from trying again, and again, and again in the days to follow.

Come to think of it, you couldn’t be sure if he ever stopped.

“How long is this supposed to last?”

Megumi and Tsumiki were walking a few yards ahead of you, stopping to stare into every other shop window before running ahead, and Himari was currently tucked against Satoru’s chest, occupying herself with a thorough (albeit, mostly oral) investigation of the collar of his shirt. You couldn’t cook and Satoru refused to do much of anything before noon, so the only choice left was to chase after promises of crepe trucks and cafes. Your question earned a hum, a glance toward you, but not much more. As little as you liked about Satoru, you were thankful he had such an even temper. Suguru was never so slow to react.

“Forever, preferably,” he answered, with a slight shrug. “Or until I die, at least – sorcerers have a pretty high mortality rate. I’m the best at what I do, but even the strongest ant gets crushed eventually.” He paused, pressed a quick kiss into the top of Himari’s head. “I’ll make sure to leave a big trust fund, though. You’re gonna be living off your daddy for a long, long time.”

You let your eyes fall to the sidewalk. “You don’t have to pretend you care about her. I know you’re only doing this because of him.”

If he’d denied it immediately, you wouldn’t have believed him. If he’d sworn that Suguru had nothing to do with it, if he’d dropped to his knees in front of you, if he’d told you that he loved you, you wouldn’t have believed him. But, in the end, he only pursed his lips, his head lulling to the side as he considered it. “At first, yeah,” he admitted, tracing patterns into Himari’s back. “I heard that he’d gotten with someone and… I got curious. I guess I was a little jealous.” He paused, his tone abrupt going light and sheepish. “I might’ve gone a little overboard, in retrospect – making the brats go to your school and following you around and all. I just wanted to see what kind of person could make Suguru go soft, but then I saw how you were with the little princess—” He lifted Himari above his head, grinning up at her while she spouted happy gibberish. “—and fell for you, head over heels. All I could think about was gathering you both up in my arms and takin’ you home.”

“You make us sound like stray animals.”

“I mean, you kind of are, right?” You jutted your elbow into his side, and he rolled his eyes dramatically. “Okay, okay, you’re runaways. I didn’t know you were so pedantic, (Y/n).”

He slotted Himari against his hip, his attention momentarily falling away from her as he shot a quick, teasing smile in your direction. “I like you.” His voice was soft, dull – like he was saying something you didn’t already know. Like he was giving something away. “And I want you to stick around.”

“I’m sure Suguru would’ve said the same thing.”

“I’m not like Suguru.” He found your hand, his fingers soon intertwined with yours. “I wouldn’t let you go so easily.”

You opened your mouth, but closed it again just as quickly. Ahead of you, Tsumiki turned on her heel and waved excitedly. She’d picked a café (presumably with minimal input from Megumi); a picturesque little spot with a sun-speckled patio and overgrown garden boxes. Satoru’s hand tightened around yours, tugging you forward, and just this time, you didn’t bother trying to pull away.

The man on his knees in front of you was older – his hair receding and dotted with grey. A salaryman, you guessed, judging by his wrinkled suit, the ink stains on his sleeves. You couldn’t see his expression, not with his forehead pressed against the floor of Suguru’s sanctuary, but you could hear the pain in his voice as he pled for Suguru’s help, see the slight tremble in his shoulders. You didn’t have to assume the cause of his distress.

You couldn’t be sure when you started to see the spirits – or, the curses, you mean. It must’ve been around the end of the first trimester; your little glimpses at crooked monsters and mangled beasts solidifying into full, unrelenting exposure. Suguru suggested (after he’d finished celebrating what he would, later on, refer to as the best day of his life) that it might be a symptom of the pregnancy, that carrying a sorcerer’s child may’ve triggered some pocket of laden cursed energy buried inside of you, but you couldn’t help but think of it as some kind of cosmic punishment, even if you couldn’t begin to guess what you were being punished for.

It had to be a punishment, though. If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be watching a small swarm of winged, imp-like creatures bite and scratch at the cowering salaryman, each swipe of their claws and nip of their pointed teeth enough to leave ragged, bloody stripes in his arms, his back. You felt bile rise into the back of your throat, but forced yourself not to shut your eyes, to keep your expression one of unbothered neutrality. Suguru would help him, just like he helped you.

As if by way of encouragement, you let your nails scrape over his scalp. After you started showing, the only job Suguru deemed you capable of was that of his new headrest. He took care of everything else – petitioning for maternity leave, moving you out of your flat and into the villa he shared with his girls, rewriting every little aspect of your life to better the role you’d inhabit for the next nine months: his pregnant wife. Currently, he was on his side, on leg bent at the knee and his head propped on your thighs, your fingers threaded through his hair. You’d cringed at the idea, at first, but Suguru insisted that it wouldn’t be an issue. The perks of leading your own cult, you guessed. No one could challenge his authority when he was the only authority they could possibly look to.

After a moment longer than you would’ve liked, Suguru cut off the salaryman’s incoherent rambling with a slight hum. Immediately, the salaryman fell silent, and Suguru let his head lull to the side, leaning into your palm. “Manami,” he started, addressing his assistant. She’d been called in shortly after the salaryman made his entrance. “How long has it been since our honored sponsor’s last donation?”

She glanced toward her tablet. “It’ll be five months this week.”

The salaryman scrambled to apologize. “I—I’m sorry, my store went out of business, and I—”

The corner of Suguru’s lips quirked downward. The entirety of the swarm descended onto the salaryman before you could so much as flinch away.

To say they tore him apart would be an understatement. One second, he was there, bowing in front of you, and the next, little more scraps of fabric and disembodied viscera decorated the floor of the sanctuary. Suguru snapped his fingers and, in an instant, the creatures vanished – leaving behind only gore and the thick stench of copper hanging in the stagnant air. Your hand stilled in Suguru’s hair. You might’ve passed out, if you’d been able to process what you’d just watched.

Suguru took notice of your distress quickly. That, or he just wanted to bask in his kill more privately. “If I could be alone with my wife for a moment, Manami.”

Her eyes flickered to you, lingering for a moment before she bowed her head. “Of course, Geto-sama. I’ll fetch someone to clean up this mess.”

Once she was gone, Suguru rolled onto his back, letting his eyes fall shut. “These fucking monkeys,” he sighed, with a shake of his head. “I swear, they’ll be the death of me. They can’t even seem to die without causing more trouble than they’re worth.”

“You can control them?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, dear.”

“The spirits.” And then again, with more urgency, “You can control them?”

His exasperation was swiftly replaced with self-satisfaction so potent, you could nearly taste it. “Would you expect anything less from me? Only a handful are strong enough to be helpful, but even pests can be put to good use.”

You felt like an idiot for asking. You felt like an idiot for having to ask, but you just couldn’t seem to stop yourself. “My spirit. The one I came to you for.” It felt like your tongue was coated in salt and ask. “Was he one of the stronger spirits?”

A beat lapsed in silence, then another.

Finally, Suguru let out a long, raspy exhale and brought a hand to your stomach. “I hope it’s a girl,” he muttered, almost absent-mindedly. “I hope she looks just like you.”

You took a single, stilted breath.

When you met your daughter a few months later, impossibly tiny and infinitely lovable and so agonizingly helpless, it would almost be a relief to see Suguru’s face staring back at you.

“She has your eyes.”

You heard his voice before you saw his face, but you would’ve known Suguru from aura alone. You froze in the doorway of the unlit nursery, searching for him in the darkness, but Suguru didn’t make himself hard to find.

“Not the color, but the shape.” He was standing next to the cradle, a soft smile painted across his lips and your daughter in his arms. She was sleeping, and you were thankful for it. You’d kept Himari away from him as much as you’d been able to in the weeks leading up to your escape, but even their minimal exposure had seemed crushing, at the time. Above all else, you never wanted your daughter to be able to recognize her father’s face. “Oh, but she must have my temperament. I’ve heard she rarely cries, even with nuisances like Satoru around.”

You’d left your phone in the living room. Satoru wasn’t home and he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning, but maybe, if you screamed, someone would hear you. Maybe, you’d be able to run while Suguru tore them apart, limb by limb.

In the end, it was all you could do to make yourself speak – your voice thin and prone to catching in your throat. “Get out of my apartment.”

“But this isn’t your apartment, is it?” With a quiet, hushing sound, he lowered Himari back into her cradle and turned to face you. “Honestly, if I’d known you were just going to run into another man’s arms, I would’ve been more careful with you. I wonder if you’ll feel more loyal to your husband with a chain around your neck.”

“You manipulated me. You made me have a ba—”

“I loved you.” He cut you off with all the delicacy of a rusty knife sawing through flesh. “I do love you, even if I’m starting to question how much of it you deserve.”

He stepped forward. You wanted to turn away from him, to run, but your body was uncooperative, too rigid to do anything more than shake as he came to stand in front of you. “Can you say it back to me? Just this once.” He brought a hand to your cheek. “I’ll forgive you for everything, if you do.”

You tried to. Not for him, but for your daughter – made expendable by her failure to keep you bound to Suguru. You tried to, but all that slipped past your parted lips was a wordless cry, torn and anguished and far from what he’d asked for.

“No?” He feigned disappointment, letting out an airy sigh. “I guess that’s to be expected.”

He took a deep breath, then rested his head against the dip of your shoulder. His hand fell to your stomach as he spoke into your skin.

“Maybe, after we have our second, you’ll change your mind.”

3K notes · View notes

chipsinsalsa · 2 years ago

Note

Super excited for your next peeta/josh hutcherson fic! Hoping you can make more for his role of Josh Futturman!! Keep up the amazing work!! 💗

Missing You

Josh Futturman x Fem! Reader

Plot: What happens when you catch your boyfriend doing something he's not supposed to.

A/N: Changed it up a bit last minute and decided to write a Josh Fic based upon those steamy Gifs on here from Futureman! Thank you everyone for the support and interactions once again! I love it! I do apologize if fics come in late I am super busy with work but once summer roles around ill be free as a bird! Let me know if you want more like this :) <3 (sry for any typos)

contains: smut, switch Josh, catching in act,masturbation

It had been 5 long days since you had last been inside you and your boyfriend's apartment.

You had gone to visit your mother who had gotten sick and had no one to take care of her. He couldn't come along as he was too busy working at his job as a Janitor. Which may not have been the best job but ultimately the building he worked for had a greater cause.

But after your aunt flew in to take over, you managed to come back home in one peace.

You knew Josh didn't get home from work until much much later so as soon as you came in you made yourself comfortable, throwing the luggage to the side and plopping yourself on the couch.

As you sat there, you took a deep breath and looked around the apartment. Not much had changed except a few dirty dishes in the sink which you made a mental note to clean up before Josh came home.

So you decided to take a quick shower to freshen up after your long trip.

Once you came out you wrapped a towel around your body making your way to your bedroom to change. But that's when you heard it, the sound of your name being called.

You froze for a moment, unsure if you had really just imagined it or if it was actually real. You listened carefully, but there was no sound. That was until you took another step closer and heard your name again, clear and coming from a voice that sounded almost desperate to call you.

Your heart rate began to increase as you realized it was indeed someone calling your name from the other side.

You wrapped the towel tighter around your body and cautiously made your way toward the source of the sound. Both afraid and curious you slowly opened the door to your bedroom.

That’s when you saw him, your boyfriend sitting on his gaming chair. His eyes closed, face lost in pleasure. You looked down and realized his hand was slowly stroking his cock as he called out for you.

You gasped in shock and quickly backed away from the door, crossing your legs, feeling warmth in your core.

You were shocked he was home and maybe even a little offended that out of everything he could be doing he was pleasuring himself without considering waiting for you. But on the other hand, the sight of him had turned you on, and you couldn’t deny it.

You decided to open the door again.

Josh’s eyes flew open as he saw you, he quickly tried to cover himself up. He looked embarrassed, and you could see the flush in his cheeks.

“I-I I’m sorry,” he said, barely managing the words while looking at you with apologetic eyes. “I didn’t know you were home. I-I thought you were still at your mom’s.” He spoke panting.

“You must have not heard me shower then-” You said as you took in the sight.

“I couldn’t help myself, I-I missed you,” his face now blushing uncontrollably.

You took a step closer to him, letting the towel fall from your body. “You know” you whispered, as you walked over to him climbing onto his lap.

“Now that im here,” You spoke slowly pulling off the blanket he had covered himself with, exposing his throbbing cock.

He whined at the feeling of your hands grasping it. “What did you imagine me doing to you,”

He began to whimper uncontrollably as he bucked his hips into your hand desperate for friction. “I-I fuck,” He gasped unable to speak.

You smirked as you continued to stroke him, enjoying the control you had over him. “Tell me, Josh,” you whispered in his ear. “What do you want me to do to you?”

He moaned loudly, his hands grabbing your hips tightly. “Anything,” he said breathlessly. “Anything you want, just please don’t stop.”

You leaned in closer to him, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke.

“Anything?” you asked, your voice low and sultry. “You missed me that much?”

He nodded eagerly, his eyes filled with desire. “Yes,” he gasped. “P-Please, dont stop.”

You smiled wickedly as you continued to stroke him, enjoying the way he writhed beneath you. “Then promise me,” you said, still whispering in his ear.. “You won't ever touch yourself again without me.”

Josh’s eyes widened at your demand, but he didn’t hesitate in his response. “I promise, I’ll do anything, just keep going please,” He begged.

You chuckled softly at his desperation, enjoying the control you had over him.

Slowly, you leaned down and captured his lips in a heated kiss, your tongue tangling with his as you continued to stroke him. He moaned into your mouth, his body shaking with pleasure.

As you continued to kiss him, you could feel his hands beginning to roam. His hand moved up to your breast as his thumb rubbed your nipple.

You broke the kiss looking at him with a stern look. "I didn't say you could touch me yet," you spoke firmly, your hand still wrapped around his cock. "You said we could do anything I wanted?"

He looked you up and down his hands hovering over your body. “And you dont want me to touch you?”

As much as you wanted to be dominant you gave so easily into his touch. He brushed his fingers down your stomach making his way to your warmth. You shivered grinding into him. “But your already so wet-” he said teasingly before stopping abruptly. "But I won't keep touching you until you let me-”

“You can-” You spoke now craving him more than ever.

Before you could finish your sentence, Josh's lips crashed onto yours, his hands finally finding their way to your body gripping at your thighs. You couldn't help but moan into his kiss as he explored every inch of you with his hands, driving you crazy with desire.

He picked you up off the chair and onto the bed laying you down.

As he broke the kiss, he looked at you running his hands through your curves. “Now I think it's my turn to get what I want-”

Josh grinned down at you,

"And what is it that you want?" you asked, his hands still roaming your body.

"I want to be inside you," He spoke without hesitating, and he quickly positioned himself between your legs, and slowly began to insert himself into you.

As he slid inside you, you moaned loudly, feeling his hardness filling you up completely. Josh began to thrust in and out of you, his movements becoming more frantic as he got closer to the edge. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him on as he picked up the pace, each thrust hitting that spot deep inside you that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Your hands roamed over his back, scratching at his skin as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the tension building inside you, the sensations becoming almost too much to bear.

Josh's hands moved up to your breasts, squeezing and massaging them as he continued to thrust into you with increasing urgency “You dont know how much-” He spoke between thrusts. “I fucking wanted you-”

You couldn't speak your mind lost in ecstasy.

You moaned in response, the pleasure consuming you as Josh's movements became even more frantic.

The sounds of your moans mixed with Josh's groans and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, creating an intense atmosphere of passion and desire.

As Josh's thrusts became faster and more powerful, you felt yourself approaching the peak of pleasure. Your body shook with ecstasy as you reached the brink of orgasm, and with a final thrust, Josh pushed you over the edge.

You cried out in pleasure as the orgasm washed over you, your body convulsing with waves of pleasure. Josh continued to thrust into you, riding out your orgasm before finally reaching his own release.

With a final moan, he collapsed on top of you, his body slick with sweat.

He turned to you caressing your face as he covered your naked body.

“As long as you dont leave me I promise to keep my hands away-”

#josh hutcherson #josh futturman #jhutch #joshhutcherson #peetamellark #peetasmut #josh hutcherson smut #future man #futureman #peeta x reader #peeta smut #peeta my beloved #peeta supremacy

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shy-blue-blossom · 1 year ago

Text

Day Off

Hajime Sugoroku (Nanbaka)

When the guards of building 13 heard that supervisor Sugoroku would not be coming in as he had asked for a couple days off they began to panic as he is a workaholic and it must have been something serious for him to ask the warden for a couple of days. Kiji and Kenshirou were also shocked. They were the only supervisors who knew so far as they were going to be taking turns to look in on building 13.

At the Sugoroku's home.

Hajime was in the kitchen making some soup when he heard tiny pitter patters of feet making their way to him. Turning around he spotted his little girl standing in the doorway rubbing her eyes as she dragged a blanket behind her.

"What are you doing out of bed y/n?" He asked as he walked over to her to pick her up. She snuggled into him after he picked her up and her eyes closed again.

"I wanted you." She told him and Hajime almost had a heart attack with how cute she was being.

"Alright." He gave a small smile before going back to the soup and finishing it while keeping her awake by talking to her.

He soon told her to go and sit down while he got the soup for her. She waddled over to the table and got onto the chair with little trouble. He sat down next to her and helped her with eating it and making sure she did not burn herself. Once she had finished he left y/n at the table as he took the plates back to the sink. As he made his way back over to the table he noticed some paperwork that was due that day that he was supposed to have taken in but could not because y/n fell ill.

"Y/n how do you feel about seeing Uncle Hitoshi?" He questioned.

A smile made its way into her face as she nodded her head and held her arms out towards him. He picked her up and made his way to her room to help her change.

Meanwhile in building 13.

The inmates of cell 13 was wondering why they have not heard anything from Hajime. As Kiji was making his rounds he passed cell 13 and was asked by the inmates why he was there.

"I am making rounds as supervisor Sugoroku as he has asked for a couple days off." He explained to them.

They looked at one another and asked where he really was. Kiji told them the same thing and then carried on with his rounds. Uno looked towards Jyugo and they nodded their heads to one another and got both Rock and Nico in with the plan to escape and see where Hajime really was.

Meanwhile, Hajime has just got to the visiting area with y/n of building 13 and has asked for Hitoshi and Seitarou. Hajime was holding y/n in his lap as they were waiting and making sure that she still wanted to see them. She softly nodded her head and cuddled into his chest while she was waiting. As they chatted to one another, Hajime had been so focused on making sure y/n was okay and comfy that he had forgotten about the troublemakers of building 13, cell 13.

Seitarou made his way to the visitor room after he was told supervisor Sugoroku was there waiting for him. While he was doing that, cell 13 had broken out and looked around building 13 to try and find Hajime but they saw Hitoshi making his way to the visitors area for building 13, which they found odd as he is from building 4. In the room, Hajime was giving the paperwork to Seitarou as he introduced him to y/n who waved shyly at him as she stayed cuddled in Hajime's lap. That is until Hitoshi walked in through the door and walked over to pluck her out of Hajime's arms.

Cell 13 followed after Hitoshi soon barraged into the room and stopped when they saw a little girl in Hitoshi's arms. Y/n was happily talking to her uncle and asking if he was going to be long as she wanted his cuddles once he got home. Hitoshi smiled and talked to her while promising cuddles. While they were in their own world Hajime was beating the inmates and had Seitarou take them back to their cell. Hajime had y/n say goodbye to her uncle and she would see him later. They said their goodbyes before leaving and making their way back to their home.

They cuddled on the sofa while watching films and playing some games until they fell asleep.

The end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist

#x reader #reader #nanbaka #nanbaka x reader #x child reader #x daughter reader #x child!reader #x daughter!reader #hajime sugoroku #hajime sugoroku x reader #anime #anime x reader #day off

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sunflowersbones · 5 months ago

Text

The Hand That Feeds - I

Warnings: This fic will contain eventual NON-CON, eventual DUB-CON, abuse of power, violence, emotional manipulation, guns, alluded to Mafia!Bucky. My warnings are not exhaustive, proceed at your own risk.

18+ only. This is a dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary : Your best friend’s and yours entire lives have revolved around violence, death, greed and fear. You’ve always had each other and took comfort in the fact that none of this was your doing; you never had a choice. But what happens when time winds its roots around you, such that even when given the opportunity to leave, he neither leaves nor lets you leave. {mafia au}

NOTE: So this is my very first fic on tumblr!. i wanted the first to be a one shot but, oh well. Do feel free to send me your thoughts!. Reblogs are really appreciated, this is tumblr after all. I hope you enjoy!.

DIVIDERS: @firefly-graphics

You’ve always loved Bucky, since the very beginning and you’ve always known it, he was your best friend after all. It was your responsibility to love him, to protect him, and to take care of him— you’ve always tried your best.

Whenever Steve would take it upon himself to start unnecessary fights with the older boys, Bucky would step in to support him, to save him and both idiots would end up getting their ass’s whooped. You were the smarter one you knew how to pick and choose your fights, you would run to find the nearest teacher and complain about the senior boys and they would take care of the rest.

So you always knew that, when he needed you; you’d be there for him. But you never knew if he felt the same way, or if he even liked you at all, Steve always did seem to be his first priority.

You were badly jealous of the boy, but you never wished ill on him, especially because of how frail he was and how often he’d fall sick. You supposed everyone prioritized him…

Both your father and Steve’s worked for Bucky’s dad. Considering how dangerous it is and how enemies would stoop so low as to hurt the children, Steve’s mother’s paranoia seemed valid.

But you were too young to realize all of that; after all, there’s only so much an 8-year-old can understand. You seemed quite content with your life; little did you know that everything would change soon enough.

You remember that day very clearly, even now, long after the incident. You’d had a big fight with Bucky, about him leaving you to see Steve because he was sick again! In his defense, he did ask you to come, and you did want to visit Steve. But Sarah was not your biggest fan; she simply tolerated you and was more often than not, not very welcoming of your family. You remember your mother saying something about them being more rich due to old money.

Although you supposed that it was mostly, due to the fact that while other kids were out playing; her son was more than often stuck in bed.

As you opened the door and entered your house, you hadn’t noticed the stillness in the air. The house was very quiet, but then again, it always was. Your dad was out for work, your mom; busy with the housework, you were quiet the small family.

Just as you enter the kitchen, you’re alarmed as somebody holds you and covers your mouth, and just as you are ready to scream; as much as your trembling voice will allow you to, you stop. Mortified to see your wailing mother screaming and crying to let you go, her hand’s tied; as 3 men stand around her.

You had never seen her so scared before; seeing tears in her face scared you even more; she had always been the brave one, the one you run to, whenever you had a nightmare.

Right next to her was your dad, his forehead bleeding and his lips split. The man questioning him seems to have stopped in your presence; he stared at you and his face seemed to hold a mixture of pity and guilt.

He continues to question your father. It’s all too much; Your mother��s cry, your father’s helplessness, and the tight grip of the man holding you—your mind starts to get hazy.

All of a sudden, the front door crashes open, a ear-bleeding, loud bang resonates through the air, and the person holding you falls on to the floor. By now, a lot of men are in your kitchen, their guns pointing to each other.

You hear none of their conversations; you try your best not to look at the dead man lying beside you; you get a glimpse of the blood splattered on the wall, terrified; you close your eyes for a second and look straight ahead, only to find the man questioning your dad on the floor, his head underneath the sole of Bucky’s dad’s feet.

Somebody helps your mum up, and she runs to your side; she holds you close to her as they escort the two of you outside into a black limousine. Just as you climb up, you hear another gunshot; you no longer wish to know who was shot.

Time seems to be moving in a different pace and before you know it, you’re at the Barnes household. Your parents seem to be discussing something but you couldn’t pay any attention to it.

All you could feel was the ringing sensation in your ear.

Bucky entered the mansion just around that time, his initial reaction to seeing you at his place was surprise; a small smirk forms on his face, but it slowly turns into confusion as he looks around.

He slowly comes up to you, takes your hand in his, and leads you to his room. As you sat on his bed, he prepped his pillows up to make you more comfortable and sat down next to you.

You assumed that he would ask you what was wrong or what happened. Your disheveled state would have made the distress obvious. But he never did; he just sat next to you, staring at you, yet you felt more comfortable sharing this silence, than you did the whole day.

Eventually he left and came back after some time with a glass of water in his hand. He gave it to you as he sat down next to you, even closer this time; and hugged you .

He’d been out for much longer than what would be required to get a glass of water.

So you assumed that he must have pestered around and made his mother spill everything. Mrs. Barnes was a sensitive women and Bucky always had his way with people.

He hugged you a little tighter as he said “It’s OK; you’re safe now. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, ever.”

And in that moment, you realized that he loved you back as well.

#dark!bucky barnes #dark!fic #marvel #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia au #dark!bucky x reader #x reader #x reader fic #bestfriend!Bucky #Bestfriend!bucky barnes #bf!bucky x reader

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thoughtsforsoob · 8 months ago

Text

beomgyu x y/n

tw: this is a piece surrounding the death of the reader. please read with caution. if somthing i wrote here is off or insensitive, please send me a private message or an ask. i haven't had to deal with a close death to this extent so i might get something wrong. again, please let me know if i did.

1.3k words

it had been only a few weeks since the doctor had broke the news of your condition but it never got easier. it never got better because you knew you would not be able to make it out of this. you saw no light at the end of the tunnel. there was no end of the tunnel. just a void you’d keep existing in for ever and ever. you hated to think of it this way but you couldn’t help yourself. your permanent state of misery would allow you nothing else.

your boyfriend on the other hand, he was a mess. he didn’t want you to go. no one did. his friends and bandmates had to comfort him so that he wouldn’t break in front of you. he didn't want to worry or scare you in the last moment of your life. even if you told him it was okay to cry in front of you, he refused to do it. if he felt himself letting tears slip, he would run away and hide from you. you just wanted to see him but he wouldn’t allow it.

he took the opportunity, when he wasn’t crying, to take care of you. since your illness had left you confined to your bed, he would slip under the sheets next to you and just hold you. he wanted to provide as much comfort as possible. he knew you were feeling scared and didn’t want to show him. he would also do his best to make you laugh. he would prepare all of the best jokes for you and tell you when he got some time alone with you. he would also save all of the best tiktok videos and instagram memes to show you when he would see you.

if there was something he hated more than your condition, it was the fact that he had to work while you were wasting away. he didn’t want to go to schedules and he made it very clear. the boys did their best to help convince their company to give him some time to spend your last days with you but they didn’t understand. they didn’t care.

he would do his best to end schedules early so he could run off to see you. his favorite day was when he woke up to a group texts from his band mates saying to skip work and go see you. they would cover for him. that day, he left bed with a giant dorky smile on his face and it stayed there when he arrived to your home. he got ready and made sure to look presentable for you that day. little did he know, that day would be one of your favorite too…but one of your last.

two days later, the nurse was there when he arrived after work. this was never a good sign because it meant something was getting worse. they were usually quick visits but…this nurse was supposed to be gone a long time ago.

the nurse pulls him aside and gives him sympathetic eyes. “she’s going soon. please just prepare for a goodbye within the next few hours. i’ll stick around if you need anything.”

he starts to fall apart from the inside. not showing it outwardly. he couldn’t. it was impossible to let you know what he was feeling. he didn’t want you to cry of be scared.

he walks in the room with a big smile but it soon faded when he saw how your condition had worsened. you looked paler than usual, thiner, and more than he was willing to let himself notice. you had your oxygen rubes in your nose this time. you hadn’t needed them in weeks. it physically hurt his heart to see you like this.

he sits next to you in your usual spot and smoothes a hand over your hair.

“hey, beautiful. i missed you all day today. what have you been up to today?”

he look up at him with your sunken eyes. you looked red and puffy. “well…i’ve been in bed. i can’t exactly move from here, silly.”

he smiled at your name for him and rolled his eyes, “ugh i know. I'm so sorry. i wish i could take you outside. maybe some fresh air would do you good.”

he give him a mischievous smirk. “let’s sneak out. you’ll have to drag me out though. i can’t exactly walk.”

he sighs and looks at you with a loving smile, “just as funny as always. you know, no one will ever be funnier than you. you’re an actual comedian.”

you don’t reply. you grab his hand and hold onto it, pressing it to your face. he noticed how cold your skin was getting and reality hit him once again. you were only on your way out. you’d be gone within hours, according to the nurse. had you know? had you been told?

he didn't ask. he didn’t want to know.

he had one final opportunity for this and he was going to make it happen now.

he uses his thumb to rub your cheek and you smile up at him. you look so tired. you were holding on just for him. you didn’t want him to see you go but you were getting ready to let go. how could you possibly tell him though?

he uses his other hand to reach into his jacket pocket. his clumsy hand searched and finally found what he was looking for. it was a small, simple ring. one he’d been wanting to give you for a while. now was the perfect time. you’d be able to keep it forever.

he pulls the ring from his pocket and shows it to you. “do you like this ring?” you looked a little shocked but had a shy smile painted on your face. “of course i do. it’s pretty.” he smiles. “I'm glad you like it. it’s for you. i know we can’t get married now but when you’re gone and I follow you eventually, you’re gone be there waiting for me. right? we can get married then.”

you start to let tears fall. something you hadn’t done in front of him in a long time. you pull him into you with what little strength you had left and just sobbed uncontrollably. the nurse peaked in the check in but once they realized what was going on, they left to give you some privacy.

once you gained your final ounce of composure, you looked up at him, “of course i’ll wait. there no one else i love more in the world than you.”

he slips the ring on your frigid finger and presses a kiss to your hand. “i love you.”

your eyes rapidly start to flutter shut. it was happening. your speech was getting slower and you stared up at him. “lay with me.” that was your last request to him. the last thing you’d ever ask him for.

you got comfortable with him and finally started to let yourself go. you hated to do this to him but you know that he didn't care. as long as he was close to you.

“i love you, beomgyu.”

the life slipped from your body and only then, when he was sure you were gone, he started to cry. it started with silent cries and escalated to desperate screams for you to come back. he’d never felt so vulnerable in his life.

hours later, you were being taken away. he watched your body being hauled of the continued to let out screams and cries of agony. his bandmates had come to comfort him. they rubbed his back and wiped his tears but he still screamed and cried.

that night, he didn’t leave your apartment. he didn’t leave for the next three days. he sat on your bed, crying. he wanted you back but all he had were your clothes and your other stuff. your scent still lingered about the apartment and he held onto it for as long as he could.

his bandmates finally got him out of the apartment but he couldn’t help but take some of your things.

a hoodie, your shared bear stuffie and your perfume.

he missed you desperately.

he’d miss you until he was finally with you.

#txt #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt post #txt headcanons #txt reactions #tubatu #beomgyu x reader #txt angst #beomgyu angst

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herlondonboy · 2 years ago

Text

I Miss You, I’m Sorry

pairings: Taylor Swift x gn!reader (platonic)

Summary: in which you’ve been at everyone of Taylor’s opening shows in the pit since the Fearless tour, but you’re not at the opening of the eras tour

warnings: angst, unspecified chronic illness, reader death, this was supposed to be happy, spelling mistakes, sad Tay.

word count: 1.5k

You had been to everyone of Taylor Swift’s tours. It was a known fact between the Swifties. So much so that people went go up to you at the beginning of the Reputation Stadium Tour and asked for your autograph.

You and Taylor weren’t necessarily friends, but she was well acquainted with you and how your wear obscure outfits to each show. She often found herself scouring the front rows of each show for a familiar, comforting face.

Many videos had showed how Taylor’s eyes would light up when she saw you and vice versa. How she’d wave giddily, and hold back a laugh at your costume and how you’d bounce up and down, screaming the lyrics louder than anyone else.

You weren’t the first Swiftie, but you had been crowned the biggest Swiftie.

At the end of the Glendale show, you had stayed behind to take a mass amount of photos in your costume. That was the first time you were taken backstage. Part of you thought that you were being kidnapped (three men in all black, looking all emotionless and brooding leading you somewhere dark was suspicious to say the least), but then Taylor was stood in front of you with a wide smile.

Your eyes were wide and your mouth was agape, not to mention that you could hear your heart beating in your ears. “H-Hi?” You squeaked out, afraid that if you spoke too quickly you’d wake from this dream.

“Hi! Y/N, I’m-“

“Taylor-fucking-Swift,” you cut her off with a gasp.

Tears welled up in your eyes. You were supposed to meet her at the Reputation Secret Sessions in New York, but something had come up, so you didn’t get to. Part of you wished this had happened three years ago when you weren’t so weak, but it was happening nonetheless.

“Can i hug you?” Taylor asked.

You nodded rapidly and Taylor leaned forward to wrap her arms around you. You melted into the hug, sniffling softly, “I can die happily now.”

Taylor chuckled, “I missed you at the Secret Sessions,” there was a frown in her voice that made you feel guilty.

“I caught the flu,” You lied, “I didn’t want to make you or anyone else sick. I really wanted to go, though.”

The blonde smiled, still hugging you, “Well, when my next album comes out, I’ll have a super secret session just for you. Since you’re my biggest fan,” She said and there was some truth behind her words.

You had been invited to Taylor’s house to listen to the songs on Lover a few days before the first Lover Secret Session. To say you adored each song (Death By A Thousand Cuts being your favourite) was an understatement.

Taylor didn’t notice how jittery you got when Soon You’ll Get Better was playing. It seemed like you had related especially to that song, whether you were the best friend of the person in the hospital room or you were the person in the hospital room.

Your sister, who was also a big fan of Taylor and had been accompanying you to each tour, had always skipped that song whenever playing the Lover album in order, it hurt.

When Midnights came out, you were practically promised a world tour since the Lover Fest was cancelled due to the global pandemic. That was a hard time Your you and your older sister. As if you weren’t sick enough as it was, you had caught the coronavirus and had been forced into a hospital where your family couldn’t visit you for months.

But it got better. The rerelease of Fearless and the release of Folklore came and some people had spammed your instagram account with the news of finding out that you had helped Taylor write the bonus song. Then not long after, you had been allowed visitors and your sister never left your side again.

Though you were bedridden, you kept a smile on your face. Most people weren’t bothered by your sudden disappearance, it had happened a few times in the past whenever you had gotten sick, because you always came back with a brighter smile.

Then Midnights came out and Taylor announced her Eras tour and TikTok was going wild. Some fans were complaining about the price, some were wondering if you had gotten tickets. That led to people beginning to worry. You had never been gone for two years, and worse, your sister was gone, too.

So, when March 17th rolled up, and Taylor opened the tour with Miss Americana And The Heartbreak Prince, Taylor and her fans searched for you in the crowd. You weren’t there. And the second night in Glendale, you weren’t there either, but your sister was.

And that gave Taylor a little bit of hope. She waved at your sister, who waved back, fiddling with bottom of the top that you wore to the opening of the Fearless tour back in 2009.

At the end of the show, your sister had been led backstage where Taylor had changed and attacked her with a hug. The blonde broke away with a grin, “Hi! How are you? It’s been ages!”

“I’m good, yeah, it has.” Your sister responded, “Life’s been cruel, you know?”

The blonde nodded and looked down, “Where’s?-“

“Y/N told me to give you this,” Your sister held out a diary, making Taylor falter.

“What’s this?” She asked, frowning at the title of it.

Your sister sniffled, “They said- They said that they’re sorry that they couldn’t make it this year, that something came up. They really wanted to be here, Tay.”

The blonde felt her cheeks begin to dampen as your sister continued talking.

“They wrote this when they realised that they wouldn’t-“ A sob tried to claw its way out of your sister’s throat. “M-make it.”

The blonde shook her head.

Whilst the two of you weren’t necessarily friends, you knew each other well enough to know that you didn’t need to label whatever it was going on between the two of you. Your sister’s shoulder’s shook slightly as Taylor took the diary and hugged the woman.

“I’m so sorry,” She apologised profusely. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

A few days later, It was the Las Vegas shows. And, though Taylor hadn’t quite recovered from the news, she couldn’t just not go and perform. So, swallowing down her tears, she made her way onto the stage and sang like she wasn’t feeling all of these negative emotions.

And when it came to her surprise songs, she was sat at the piano, blinking away her tears. She cleared her throat and looked at her fans with a small smile, “So, uh, How is everybody?”

They began screaming on top of each other, making her chuckle slightly.

“Um, I’m sure you’ve all heard by now, but my good friend, Y/N Y/L/N past away last year. Their- their sister told me after the second show in Glendale and they wrote down a diary, wording every thought that had ever crossed their mind about me. They said- they said if they ever died and we became friends they wouldn’t want me to cry for them because they’re ’no one special,’ but they were probably one of the best people that I have ever met.

“Y/N drew a sketch of what their next outfit to one of my tours would be,” The image went up on the screen, before a series of photos of you at tours, smiling at Taylor and the camera. “I just- I wanted to say that even though we didn’t do labels, you were probably my best friend, Y/N,” She sniffled, “And I love you.”

The chords to your favourite song began and as Taylor tried to keep the lump in her throat down and her tears at bay, and a slideshow that your sister had composed began playing in the background.

Your life played out in front of everyone from beginning to finish, from 1994 to 2022. All twenty eight years. The people in the audience watched as you lost your parents and then yourself.

And then in the end, a photo of you grinning tiredly flashed onto the screen as the song faded out. And just as it ended, your voice sounded through the speakers.

Is this recording? Yeah? I’m going to assume it is. Okay, um, it’s February 21st— Happy Birthday, Joe. Uh, i don’t know what I want to say. I mean, thank you to everyone that has made my life worth living. I mean, at fifteen I wore a stupid outfit to a Taylor Swift concert and now I’m friends with her? It’s kind of sad knowing that I’ll never get to hear Speak Now Taylor’s Version, but oh well.

I’m going to be honest, I’m so scared to die. Every night for the past six months I’ve been scared to fall asleep, knowing that there will be a chance that I don’t wake up. I don’t want to die, I’m terrified. I don’t want to leave my sister alone and I know that she doesn’t want me to know, but she’s been crying herself to sleep since we got the news.

I just want to know if you’ll look after her for me? I’m all she’s got. Thank- thank you. I love you.

There was silence followed by Taylor’s small, ‘I love you, too.’ And then cheers from the crowd. Some people were announcing their admiration for you and some were crying.

“I miss you, Y/N.” Taylor whispered. “I’m sorry for not being there with you.”

—

What’s your favourite Taylor Swift song?

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vesuvianhermitcrabs · 3 months ago

Note

HC for how the M6 would react if after the upright ending, the black plague happened.

HOW THE ARCANA CHARACTERS WOULD REACT TO THE BLACK PLAGUE:

(A/N: this was supposed to be funny... it is not funny... also this has been marinating for so long i can't finish all of the m6 so it's just asra and nadia I'M SORRYYYYYY)

For context: The red plague is over, you tell the devil to suck it, you and your LI are happy and in love and then some dumbass gets too up close and personal with a rat, beginning the black plague.

Asra

You're coming home from a trip with him when you enter the city and notice the streets of Vesuvia are completely empty

Before you can even reach your shop you know something is terribly wrong

Asra turns to look at you, worried

You decide to visit the palace, surely Nadia would be able to explain what was happening

When you get there, a single guard is posted inside the gates wearing a plague mask

"In light of the recent plague outbreak, the countess will not be seeing any visitors," the guard says, unmoving, monotone as if they had turned away many before you

Plague?

A moment of stunned silence passes before you feel Asra grip your hand with his own

He's shaking

Asra's brain is so hectic that the only thing he can think of doing is getting you away from here. So he takes you back to the shop and he's stuffing everything he possibly can into a travelling bag

They're completely unresponsive when you speak to them

...but when you take both of their wrists in your hands and ask them how they're feeling they immediately shatter

Full blown panic attack

He can't stop thinking of your charred bones in the ground, can't stop imagining you so ill that you can't walk, can't stop dreading that you'll want to stay in Vesuvia and try to help people and end up dead all over again

He can't stop

They're sobbing now, wrapping their arms around your waist and burying their face into the space above your clavicle so they can listen to your heart beating through the pulse point in your neck

You stay like that for hours

He's no fool and he knows he can't mourn you like this when you're still with him, so when he finally parts with you, it's to ask you to run away alongside him

Asra's begging you to leave with him, but he's not going to go without you. Not again

If you choose to leave with him, he's taking that chance to whisk you away as soon as you're ready

Takes you to his cottage in Nopal so you can both lay low until the new plague relents

If you're adamant about staying, he'll stay with you

Knows that if you fall ill and he's not there to help you he won't ever forgive himself

He's willing to stick with you in Vesuvia, but just know he'll hate every second of it. Every moment is spent filled with his fear for the both of you

Whatever you choose, the whole ordeal digs up your shared traumas, so, yk, all in all both of you are doing pretty terribly

You're having constant nightmares about being cremated alive

He's having nightmares about finding your bones in the ground, about being unable to save you and all of your loved ones

On nights like those, you cling to each other and try to offer the most comfort you can

Nadia

Before the outbreak even happened her intuition told her something bad was going to happen

As soon as her suspicions are even slightly confirmed she's sending out warnings to all Vesuvians

To the average person she appears uncannily composed about the whole ordeal, but you know how much of a toll it has taken on her

Nadia's people are dying around her AGAIN and she's as frantic and upset as you've ever seen her. She is so very determined to do better than last time

She wants to be a better ruler

She's imposing rules on quarantines, finding ways to supply food and water without spreading the disease, attempting to help those who are already sick, she is trying

Her stress levels have long surpassed even Julian's

She's overworking herself and most days you think you're the only thing keeping her sane

It consumes her

Part of the reason the plague affects her so heavily is because she knows you died from it

The very fact that someone as wonderful and lively and beautiful as you could have their life torn away from them haunts her. She can't let that happen if she has any say in it at all

Wants to keep you safe despite the fact you're the court magician, tries to keep you away from it all but isn't sure if that means sacrificing the rest of Vesuvia

Nadia might actually explode so be nice to her please...

Lucio

FUCK.

It's no longer Lucio's good time party town it is now trauma central

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana hc #the arcana mc #cringe culture is dead

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elliebyrrdwrites · 2 months ago

Text

The Marriage Law Trope:

It doesn’t even matter what kind of person you are. Good, bad, total fucking wack-job? You could be a fucking Saint and it wouldn’t matter. Because the world is made and it is ruled by a few. Just a handful of people who decide what we do. They decide what the rules are and we just fucking follow them.

Because all we are, to them, are sheep. Sheep that are soldiers who give up everything for their gain. Not our own. They gain more money and more power and we die. Eventually, we just die, all broken and battered. Often, we die tragically.

It’s all by design. We are like a cancer, growing and growing. We are metastasizing into something that cannot be stopped. So, the powers that be, they take us and give us a purpose. The purpose, it serves them and them alone.

Because people breed like fucking mice. We fuck and fuck and pop out little clones of ourselves programmed to do the same fucking thing. So, the little handful of powerful people take advantage of it. And we just keep going, fucking and surviving. We migrate and fuck other races and we evolve. We grow accustomed to the climate changes, the ecological conditions that seem ever changing.

At least, that is the way it’s supposed to happen. Survival of the fittest, right?

But the funny thing is, wizarding kind isn’t like people.

We’re special. We have magic and we can cure illness and create potions that regenerate our organs and our bones. We rarely get sick. But when we do, it’s devastating. And, we’re worse than pandas. Because we fuck and we fuck, often by force, and we still cannot produce enough offspring to give our kind any hope of survival. Because we’re not the fittest. Despite all of the blood purity garbage, we are not supposed to be here.

I’m not supposed to be here.

And the point is, that no matter how hard my father tries, he is not one of those few powerful men. Because it took three years for Shaklebot to start losing pull after the war ended. Three years for him to start losing popularity amongst the rich and greedy. Three years for him to cave into the roll of every other minister before him. A puppet. Which is what my father wants me to become. Which is why all of this is fucking beautiful and sick.

And the sick fucks can see that our kind is at risk for becoming endangered. Soon, if we don’t migrate and acclimatize to a new environment, we will die off. We will become extinct. We we ill be exterminated by our own bigotry.

Oh, the irony.

And the point is, I am not attracted to my fiancé. It has nothing to do with how frail and sickly she is. I’ve never liked her. Not before our fathers signed a contract promising us to each other, not before and not a second after.

When your libido drops, you do things that help you feel like a man. Because I can’t fuck my fiancé and that is embarrassing. So, I work out. I run every day, sometimes for hours. I visit old classmates and we get drunk and we fight. sometimes with each other, sometimes with others. It took three years for her to come down with some rare blood illness. And the point is, the night before I was supposed to walk down the aisle and marry Astoria Greengrass, a decree came down from the minister himself, stopping me from my impending doom.

The point is, the ministry decided that it was time to stop fucking our cousins and began to turn to muggle born witches for breeding. We must marry half bloods and mudbloods in order to save Wizarding Kind. We must fuck them, fill them with our seed and produce heirs who will, eventually, taut their blood status. Because, in a handful of years, twenty or thirty, the law will be revoked and then the heirs of the sacred twenty eight wont know that their blood is tainted by mud. They will be able to stick their fucking noses in the air and start the cycle all over again.

Like I said, survival of the fittest, right?

And I don’t belong here because right now, there’s a solicitor standing in our foyer, breaking the news to me and to my parents. they’re breaking the news to Astoria and to her parents.

She is too sick and, essentially, useless. They need to grow the population. They need to create new alleles that will be passed down and down and ensure that we survive.

I’m lounging on the settee and I’m watching the solicitor rub at the back of his neck as he attempts to tell the Malfoy’s and the Greengrasses why they cannot go through with the wedding that has been planned for the past three years.

“James,” My father calls the man by his name because he knows him. James was one of those men who used to bustle in and out of my fathers studies. He was supposed to accept his bribes and push my fathers agenda. My fathers agenda was power for the Malfoy name.

But a couple of weeks ago, the man stopped stopping by. Things were getting tense. Because there had been a decision that didn’t involve my father and his money.

“You’re expecting us to cancel a wedding that has cost us a small fortune, and all for what?”

“It’s a direct order from the minister, himself, Lucius.” James is rolling and rolling the parchment with the declaration that mine and Astoria’s nuptials would be unlawful. Because as of midnight tonight, the law will be passed. And just as my father chose and sold me off to the highest bidder within the pureblood circle, the minister has ordered me to do the same. But not to Astoria. No, the minister has had his finest men and women put their heads together and come up with some sort of formula that has decided who would work best with my magic, and be more willing to accept my see.

“Can we at least, petition for a half breed?” My mother asks and everyone’s eyes dart to her. Astoria is pale as ever, terrified of what her future may bring. She doesn’t know if she will be paired with some mudblood wizard, or if she will be deemed to sickly to be sold off. Too weak to enslave.

“Isn’t it better than a mudblood?” Mother says to father, who purses his lip and lifts his eyebrows in assent before we all look back at James for a response.

“I’m afraid the matches will be non-negotiable.”

“That’s absurd!” My father growls.

“Well, at least your money won’t be a total waste. There can still be a wedding.” James gestures to the flowers filling the foyer. White flowers fill the entire manor. Spilling into the halls and out into the gardens, where the ceremony was to be held.

“Who is it, then?” I finally ask, before taking another sip of my drink. The thing is, I’m barely present. I know what’s going on, but it’s like the volume on the world is turned down and there’s a blanket thrown over the speaker, muffling all of the noise and my movements feel heavy. Like I am trudging through mud deep under the sea.

“Most wont know their matches until tomorrow afternoon.”

Most are not Malfoy’s. They are not wealthy and semi-powerful.

“But, I did manage to look at yours,” He nods to me before his eyes shift, uneasily, toward my father.

The name falls from James lips and something incredible happens. My father’s face turns a shade of red, speckled with green bits around and just under his eyes. His lips pale out, turning almost white instead of pink. Because, James has just said the name of a witch I hadn’t seen or heard from in at least three years. The name of a witch I hadn’t even recalled for the past three years.

I can't decide if this name being thrown onto me like a cold cup of water is a miracle or a my impending doom.

Hermione Granger.

Granger probably wants to cry. No, worse. She probably wants to rage. She probably wanted to tear down the walls of a world that had betrayed her. Over and over again, she was betrayed. She probably felt skinned alive and abandoned. Maybe she wasn’t enough, because she was a mudblood. She was a hero. She was too much, because she was insatiably hungry for knowledge. She was their only hope, because she was a muggle born.

Because she was a muggle born, they needed to take her and use her. She was to be caged and used like an animal. Nothing more than a mare meant for breeding.

And she had no say in the matter. They probably waxed and tweezed and groomed her until her cheeks were red and the skin between her thighs stung.

She was probably being thanked for her bravery. Praised for her contribution to the good of wizarding kind.

But, really, they were dooming her. They hadn’t even given her a choice. The ministry had decided her fate that had been calculated by people who didn’t even know her.

She knew things had changed, and that things had become dark again. Because she was smart. Granger was the brightest witch of our age.

But this.

This was pure evil. Granger probably felt like she had been plucked right out of her life and inserted into the middle of a dystopian future where Voldemort had won and the pure bloods ruled.

And in a way, we did. Because we still hold the vast majority of the riches. They still held the most garner and control of the Wizengamot.

Perhaps she had been naïve and ignorantly secured in her little bubble. Perhaps her and her two puppy dogs had failed to realize that the real war was not held on battlefields. It was inside of the dark, smoky studies of pureblood wizards.

And they had won.

But this wasn’t about war. This was for the good of Wizarding kind, they probably told her. They probably told her that she really was the golden girl, savior of the world!

Because she will be cornered by ministry officials and order her to pack her things. They will order her to answer a summons from the minister himself. Because she was going to be forced to marry someone she hated. Someone she had not seen in three years and when she last saw him, was probably terrible to her. Because I am that kind of a wizard. I am my fathers son. I am a good little asshole. I say terrible things to wonderful people and I never think of them again.

And the point is, that is a lie.

Because I have thought about Granger. Nearly every morning, I wake up with the memory of a dream that gets leaves me with a painful erection. Every night, I blink and drift off into lucid dreams that borderline on erotic. Sometimes they are pointless. None of them ever make sense.

Because I’m a prisoner and prisoners tend to hold onto the little things from their past. Little moments that keep them going. That allow them to survive in conditions meant to break them. And I am. I’m broken and dirty and terrible.

I’m everything my father wants me to be.

Except that in my mind, there is Granger and her big sunset eyes. Her sunset eyes are golden brown and they shine on me from across the space of the school library. It’s not even a moment, it’s a snippet of a moment that meant nothing. Nothing at all, except that they are warm eyes and when I sit in my cold, frigid cell, I use it. I use the memory of the warmth and bask in it.

I’ve learned how to Occlude. Dodd insisted, actually. Told me to build my walls and compartmentalize all of my anxiety and stuff it into some sort of a box inside of my head and lock it away. But with this new ability, I found that there is this little nugget of gold just laying there.

Granger, sitting across the library, studying and I’m just watching her. Waiting. For what, I can’t tell. I don’t know. But when she looks at me, her eyes are all bright and warm and her lips lift in a little smile and then I’m finding the memory to be special, precious even. And it doesn’t make sense, because I’m a Malfoy and she is a mudblood and I hate her.

Always have, and always will.

The point is, she doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t belong in my world and she doesn't belong in my head. Still, I wonder what she looks like these days. I heard that she was going to school, again. What a novelty. Hermione Granger couldn’t stop studying. She couldn’t stop getting praises for her high marks and the fucking genius that she was.

But those are thoughts that only come to me when I’m gone, drifting high above the earth while I dream.

And when I’m awake, I don’t think of her. I think of nothing.

Because that’s what I am.

I am nothing. Because I do not belong here. This world is for mere men and I am something more, something ancient and tired. Life is tedious and boring.

And Granger is probably in the ministers office right now, screaming her argument until she’s blue in the face. She’s probably trembling at the idea of becoming the former Death Eaters little wife. Forced to let him fuck her as he pleased. She wouldn’t go down without a fight.

The realization of a pink faced, bright eyed Granger causes a bit of a stir somewhere deep inside of my guts. It’s warm and prickly all at once. It feels like waking up in the morning with a full nights rest only to find yourself in the middle of a barren cell with no heat clinging to the cold stone walls.

Trust me, I know.

#fanfic #dramione #dramione fanfic #draco malfoy #draco x hermione #hermione granger #hermione x draco #dramione fanfiction #dramione fan fiction #dramione ship #dramione drabbles

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fortheloveoffanfic · 10 months ago

Text

Prettier When You're Mine

Dark!Andy Barber x Reader

Author’s Note: Two more chapters on this one

Summary: One year into working with a young, bright and beautiful junior prosecutor, Y/n, who bears an almost uncanny resemblance to Andy’s late wife, Laurie, he finds himself developing feelings for her. Though, when she brushes off his advances, Andy proves that he’ll do whatever it takes to recreate his family.

Disclaimer: 18+ This work contains dark themes, including stalking, dub-con, infidelity and manipulation. Read at your own discretion.

Masterlist Playlist Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Weeks after her visit to Andy's house, Y/n makes an unsettling discovery and Andy reveals an even more sinister truth Warning: mentions of forced sex, mentions of stalking, possessiveness, mentions of pregnancy

Twelve weeks Later

Food poisoning. Stress. A newly developed food intolerance. Some sort of undiagnosed illness.

Off all the things that could have caused the wave of symptoms she’d been experiencing, two faint, pink lines on a little plastic stick was the last place Y/n figured she’d find her reasoning. Holding the edge of the bathroom counter in a white knuckled grip, she shut her eyes and bent her head. Sniffling softly, she felt a slow, warm trickle down her cheeks and it was a task in itself to quiet her sobs.

It wasn’t possible- it wasn't supposed to be possible.

Unless-

“Babe?” A knock on the locked bathroom door made Y/n jump, and hastily wiping at her eyes, she checked her reflection over while emitting a sound of encouragement. “I’m almost ready to leave-”

“Already?” After capping the test and shoving it into the waistband of the back of her pants, she pulled the door open abruptly, causing James- who had been leaning on it- to stumble forward a little. “I didn’t realize it was seven already.”

He glanced at his watch and flashed her a look of concern, “Its actually seven thirty,” reaching out, he cupped the side of her face and she tried to smile, hoping that the sting in her eyes would wait till he’d left. “You’re still sick?” He frowned deeply and then chuckled halfheartedly as he teased, “I thought you were better, you had half a pizza last night.”

Swallowing thickly, Y/n smiled faintly and laid her hand on his forearm, “I’m fine,” she lied. It was hard to keep it together, but the last thing Y/n wanted was to have to explain everything to James when she could hardly make sense of it all herself. “Its just um…my hair is being uncooperative.”

He didn’t look like he believed her, but played along anyway, “Looks great to me,” he bent his head a little too swipe a kiss off her lips. When he pulled away, James searched her eyes and furrowed his brows, “You’re sure that you’re okay?” He moved his hand to slip two fingers under her chin, “Because if you want to stay home, I’ll stay with you or-”

“I’m fine,” Y/n forced herself to smile, “Go to work,” she tiptoed and kissed him again.

He sighed, “Alright. Alright. And you’re sure you don’t want a ride?” Y/n shook her head in refusal, already deciding that she had other plans and wanting to get out of her current situation as soon as possible. “Okay,” his smile faltered, “Well I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah,” Y/n blinked quickly, barely holding it together, it was getting harder to lie to him by the second, and all she wanted was a few minutes to break down in peace, “Later.”

“Love you,” James said softly before kissing her one last time, and with a subtle, unnoticed break in her voice, Y/n returned;

“Love you too.”

Later that day

Letting out a long, slow breath, Y/n wrung her hands together. She was shaking in her shoes and barely holding it together; it felt like her whole life was falling apart while she’d been reduced to nothing more than a powerless spectator.

She was late to work that morning, having impulsively decided to detour to a local women’s clinic. A free one that time so she wouldn’t have to use insurance or her banking information- the last thing she needed was James finding out about it from anyone but her. It, up to the minute she’d seen the little grainy image on the blueish screen, Y/n had taken to calling the baby in her belly ‘it’. Because it wasn’t possible; it wasn’t supposed to be there. It was going to ruin everything.

But then she’d seen it and within a second, everything had changed. She fell in love.

And she was so scared of that love.

The nurse at the clinic had been alarmed by her very expressive outburst; loud wailing and messy tears. She’d asked if something had happened to put her in that situation, if she needed to see a social worker or wanted a pamphlet on termination. Y/n had refused both.

“Okay,” Y/n exhaled heavily, touching her lower stomach, “Let’s do this.”

Another breath.

Clenching her fist so tight she could feel her nails leaving crescent shaped bruises on her palms, Y/n knocked on the door. She would have just gone in, she wanted to, but Y/n also wanted to prolong her final moments spent in denial.

“Come in.”

Another breath. A bigger one.

Turning the knob, Y/n crept inside and shut the door behind herself. Her throat suddenly felt dry and when he looked up from his work, and when he flashed her an unsuspecting, innocent gaze she felt rage boil in her center. They hadn’t talked about what had happened at his house, Andy for one had seemed to have forgotten, making Y/n wonder if he’d been that drunk.

She’d even started wondering if it had all been a dream because how could he forget when she thought about it everyday?

“Y/n,” he folded his arms, “You’re-”

Late. For a lot of things.

“I know,” she cut him off hastily, “We need to talk.”

It might have been her tone, or just the weight of her words, but Andy sat up straighter, relaxing into the back of his chair and knitted his brows. Frowning, he asked, “What is it?” Y/n hesitated, and he though he encouraged her to sit, she remained standing, “Sweetheart if you don’t-”

“Please don’t call me that,” she cut him off hastily, shaking her head, “You have no idea-” Her voice broke with emotion and she sniffled loudly.

"Hey," Andy crooned, standing and crossing the floor to come near her. Though, when he reached to touch her face, Y/n filched, and his jaw tightened in response. With a scoff, he raised his hands in mock surrender and stepped away to lean on the edge of a bureau against the wall while she lingered near the chairs at his desk

Peeved by his reaction but still crippled with anxiety, Y/n whispered, “This is really important.”

“I wouldn’t know, you haven’t told me yet,” he shrugged and she wasn't sure if his disregard was coming from his annoyance with her or just the fact that he seemed to enjoy seeing her vulnerable. When she still didn’t speak, Andy started again, “I want to help you, but-”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out, refusing to look at him.

Andy huffed, straightening his back as his grip on the edge of cupboard loosened, “Congratulations.”

Lifting her head, her jaw dropped when she realized his apparent amusement, “No, you don’t understand,” Y/n explained in a panic, “I’m twelve weeks pregnant and....." For a moment, she considered telling him about James' infertility, but Y/n didn't think she wanted him to know that much about her personal life. "It doesn't matter," she shook her head, "You're probably the father." Most likely.

Andy scoffed a chuckle, “I know. How's that for your ten percent?”

Her lips quivered and Y/n felt like the room was spinning. As heavy breaths threatened to turn into a full on panic attack, she reached for the back of the closest chair for support. “What?”

“I know,” Andy repeated, licking his lips before he stood, slipping his hands into the pockets of his black trousers, “I know...everything. About James; the accident and his……little problem.”

Slapping her hand to her mouth, Y/n emitted a choked sob. “Oh my god,” her words were muffled into her palm, “You knew.” Andy came to stand behind her, laying one hand on her shoulder while the other snaked around to flatten on her stomach. There wasn’t a visible bump there yet, but there was a distinct firmness that she’d only started noticing earlier the last week.

“Don’t touch me,” as a whirlpool of emotions engulfed her, Y/n shoved him off, “How did you know?”

A car wreck when he was sixteen temporarily left James paralyzed from the waist down and had permanently left him unable to have children. He’d been up front about the whole thing when they’d first started getting serious, and they’d even had a battery of tests run after they’d moved in together, just to be sure. For years, Y/n had promised, him and herself, that she didn’t care that they would never have biological children, and for years, it was true. She was okay with it being just the two of them for the rest of their lives, she was okay with adoption if they ever decided to have children.

But then she’d seen that couple at the doctor’s office and the most intense mixture of jealousy and heartbreak had overwhelmed her to the point of wondering if she actually was okay with never being able to get pregnant, or if she was just going along with it because she loved him.

“Give a dirty cop three thousand dollars and he’ll show you the world,” Andy taunted, reaching out to touch her face and clicking his tongue when she slapped his hand away, “You don’t have to be upset, I'm giving you what you want.”

“I didn’t want it like this!” She laid a hand over her stomach protectively, “You can’t do this to me, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Andy stepped forward to box her in, “Have a abortion? I know you don’t want that, else you wouldn’t be here right now. And don't you think for a second that you’re gonna pass my baby off as his.”

“Who’s to say you can stop me from doing either?”

The thought had crossed her mind when she determined that Andy was her baby’s father; she could lie to James and let him think they’d run into a miracle, or she could have an abortion at the women’s clinic and move on with her life. But Andy was right, she wanted that baby and lying to James for the rest of their lives wasn’t something she could bring herself to do. Their relationship had been built on trust and honesty, if they raised that child together and he somehow found out that it wasn’t his, he’d be devastated and everything they had would be ruined.

And Andy deserved to know that he had a baby out there, at least, that was the fact that Y/n had convinced herself of on the cab ride over to the office.

In an instant, Andy had her by the neck, holding her against the door. His grip wasn't tight enough to completely cut off her air, but it was firm and hurt. “You won’t,” Andy snarled, letting her throat go in favor of grabbing the the neckline of her blouse and pulling her up to his face, “You get rid of this baby and I will fucking kill you,” he shoved her against the door again, eliciting a frightened gasp, “And you tell him that its his, or try to run away or do whatever that brilliant little mind of yours can come up with and I will hunt you down and kill him with my bare hands. And you will never see this child again.”

“Why are you doing this?” She shuddered, voice quiet and scared.

He was proving to truly be a monster. To be all the things she’d heard about him; the kind of man that could raise a murderer- because he was capable of being one himself.

When he let her blouse go, his demeanor shifted completely. With newfound gentleness, Andy's eyes softened and he smoothed his hand over the wrinkles on her blouse. Trailing his fingers down her body he stopped to cradle the front of her hips, thumbs rubbing slow circles in the area a couple inches below her navel. “How can you ask me that?” He frowned, “I’m doing this for you- for our family. I just want our family back.”

A hitched noise contained in her throat followed the return of a thought she’d had back at his house; it was never about her. “I’m not her, I’m not Laurie.”

Andy’s long lashes fluttered as his gaze flitted to meet hers, “You’re not,” he agreed, touching her face gently, “You’re so much better. She was weak and stupid. She killed my baby boy,” he leaned his forehead against hers and while she was scared to the point of her blood running like ice water, Y/n didn't dare move away, “But you’ll protect our baby, I know it. You'll be such a good wife and an even better mother, I knew it from the moment we met.”

“I love my fiancee,” she whimpered.

“No,” his mood shifted suddenly and Andy grabbed her by the shoulders, holding Y/n to the door, though not violently. “I see the way you look at me. You feel the same way I do,” he pressed urgently, “This is the way its supposed to be.”

“This the way you made it,” Y/n counted fearfully.

He scoffed, bemused again, “Call it divine intervention.” Though his grip on her shoulders was bruising, Andy used his thumb to trace affectionate circles into the fabric of her coat, "Now,” his tone dropped again, “I’ve told you what happens if you make the wrong decisions. So you’re going to do as I say, and we’re going to fix this, together.”

#chris evans #andy barber #chris evans x reader #andy barber x reader #defending jacob #fanfic #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x you #andy barber x you #prettier when you're mine #prettier when you're mine chapter 7

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dragon-kazansky · 9 months ago

Text

Symphony of dreams

Morpheus x Female Reader

Once upon a time, a loving sister gave her brother a gift. That gift would be the most important thing he ever had, but it took a while to get there. Dream had no intention of falling in love, but when he fell, he fell hard.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Warnings: Cuteness overload. A single use of Y/N.

Chapter Six - When the stars aligned

☆☆☆

Loneliness was not something Dream thought much about. He was very much focused on his role as the Dream Lord. There was not much else he took pleasure in.

Death was fond of humanity. All their quirks, wishes, and pleas. Each one was unique and different. They reminded her of her own family. Each with a different role to perform.

When Death looked at Dream, she saw the loneliness buried deep within but knew better than anyone, not to mention it. Yet, she couldn't ignore it. How could she pretend her brother was not suffering in silence.

Death swore to herself she would change this. She would help dissolve his loneliness. At first she attempted to simply spend tike with him, but she soon realised it wasn't enough.

As humanity began to grow, and learn, and love, she saw what he needed.

What could be more romantic than dreaming of love? Human or not, every living being was capable of such an emotion, even if they denied it.

To deny love was to deny yourself the pleasure of experiencing such feelings.

Dream pushed such feelings away.

Not any more.

Death was determined to find someone special. To find him his soulmate. He would know what happiness was in its purest form.

Death gave him a gift.

You.

A woman so warm and pure. You were not judgmental. You did not hold ill feelings without reason. You were not cruel, unkind, or dishonest. You were pure. You were true. You were perfect.

Death visited you with a wish.

"My brother is lonely. He does not know love. I want you to show him."

You had listened to her request.

☆☆☆

Dream had no idea why he had been summoned by his sister. When he came to her, he was not expecting to see her with anyone. His eyes lingered on you for a good few moments before he sat down in front of his sister.

"Brother."

"Sister."

The two looked at each for a moment. The silence was strange, heavy. Death smiled. You relaxed.

"What is it?" Dream asked.

"This is Y/N."

Dream turned his blue eyes back to you. You stated back at him. He was not quite what you were expecting. Long dark hair, sharp eyes, and sharper cheekbones. His skin was pale and smooth looking. His lips turned down in the corners as he looked at you.

"And?"

"I am giving her to you."

"I do not require a slave."

"Not a slave, brother."

"Then what?"

A few moments of silence pass between them. You remain quiet, watching.

"A companion?" He asks.

"A friend," Death smiles.

"I do not need friends."

"No? She is quite something. I think you'll grow fond of her. Quite fond of her."

"What are you implying?"

"Nothing," Death says, looking at him.

"You do not fool me, sister."

"Nor am I trying to."

Dream's eyes glide back over to you. You have not said a word. You have been watching, listening. He looks you up and down, not so subtly. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

He was so intimidating.

How were you supposed to show him love? This would not be easy.

"My answer is no."

Death sighs and looks at you. "I'm sorry about my brother. He is a moron. He will see sense."

Dream narrows his eyes slightly at you both.

"I understand." That's the only thing you say. You do not speak again. Dream does not want you. He knows Death knows he does not want you.

However, his sister was nothing if not persistent.

☆☆☆

"What are you doing here?" He asks, seeing you standing in his throne room.

"You sister let me come here."

"That was not her decision to make."

"I am sorry."

Dream looks at you. You avoid his eyes. Your hands are entwined in front of you. You look guilty.

"Jessamy will show you the way out."

"Jessamy?"

"My raven."

The raven in question came flying in and landed by your feet. She looked up at you with curiosity. Her master gave her a look, and she understood.

You looked back at Dream.

"Your sister told me you would try to get me to leave. She said to hold my ground. So I shall stay."

Dream narrowed his eyes at you.

"And who are you to defy what I want?"

"No one. I am no one of significance, but your sister is kind, and she asked me to do something. Do it, I shall try." You stand there determined.

"Do what?"

"Show you love."

Dream goes quiet. Your words go round in his head. Show him love? Nonsense. What would Death get out of that?

"Pity."

"Hm?"

"Does she pity me?" He asks softly.

"I do not think so. I think she worries."

"Worries? What for? I do not ask for such pointless things. My realm and I are doing just fine. She need not interfere."

"I do not see it as interfering," you say.

"Then what do you see it as?"

"An experience."

Dream falls quiet again. He regards you cautiously. A few moments of silence pass before he turns around and walks away.

☆☆☆

You stand on the bridge to the palace, looking out at The Dreaming. You have never seen anywhere so beautiful before. All these magical and wonderful things.

Dreams. Adventures. Stories.

It was wonderful. It's just simply wonderful.

"You may leave. You need only keeping following this road."

You do not turn around as he approaches from behind. You keep your eyes on the wonderful things around you. The bright sky, the dragon above you, the fairies flying over the bridge.

"I have no intention of leaving."

Dream looks at you. His face does not give away anything, but if you look hard enough in his eyes, you may catch a slight glimpse of amusement.

"No?"

"I was given to you by your sister as a gift. It would be rude to return a gift."

"People are not usually gifts," he says firmly.

"I'm special."

"How?"

"I shall live forever."

He looks at you curiously. Immortal? You truly were a gift then. One his sister intended for him to have forever. How interesting.

"I see."

You turn to look at him. "Can I explore?"

"The Dreaming?"

"Yes." You smile. "Can I see your realm?"

"Fine, but be careful. Dreams are not the only things that roam my kingdom. There are plenty of nightmares too."

You stare at him. "I am not afraid."

His lips twitch. "No?"

"Will you not guide me around your kingdom?" You ask.

"No."

You appear to deflate slightly. His rejection puts a damper on your mood. For some reason Dream does not like that look on you.

"Do as you wish."

With that, Dream walks away.

☆☆☆

You walk into the throne room and look up at the tall stained glass windows. Just below them sits a throne. You stop at the bottom of the steps to see the king sitting in his throne with a book in his lap.

"How was your walk?"

"What are you reading?" You avoid his question.

"A book."

"Yes, but what book?"

His eyes lift from the pages and focus on you. He closes the book carefully and holds it up in one hand. "Your book."

"My book?"

"Your life. I wanted to know where my sister found you and why she brought you to me."

"I told you."

He says nothing. Dream puts the book down and stands up. Slowly, he descends the stairs. "Do you know what I am? What my sister and I are?"

"You are Endless." You confirm. Death had told you all you needed to know. "There are others too. You are siblings."

Dream says nothing as he comes to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.

"You are Dream. The lord of dreams and nightmares. When people go to sleep, they come here. You keep their dreams alive."

He remains silent.

"I think that's wonderful."

Dream looks like he wants to say something, but his attention is drawn to something behind you. You turn to fine Lucienne waiting to talk to her king.

You excuse yourself.

His eyes follow you.

☆☆☆

You have been in The Dreamkng for a little while now. Dream has since stopped suggesting you leave and find his sister. He just let's you be. He does not spend much time with you.

Dream works a lot, you have discovered. He puts a lot of his time into his realm and his duties. You do not see much of him. Just fleeting moments here and there.

One day, you find yourself in a gorgeous field. Grass so green it looks impossible. Trees so tall they do not look real. Life thrives in this meadow.

"How did you get here?"

You turn slowly and find the Dream Lord watching you. He looks so out of place here.

"I was walking and then... I was here."

"Impossible."

"Hm?"

"This is Fiddler's Green. Not just anyone can be here." Dream looks at you curiously. His mind is running with thoughts.

"I told you. I'm special."

Your smile stirs something deep inside him. As he looks at you, he feels like he is seeing you for the first time. True beauty in its purest form. He has never felt anything quite like it.

"What are you?" He asks.

"Human, or I was."

"Why did my sister grant you immortality?"

"So you would never be alone."

"Why?" He asks. He almost sounded like he was pleading.

"She wanted me to show you love."

He stares at you. He feels... lost.

"What is love?"

You smile again. Dream can not look away. Your smile is... beautiful. Why was something so small affecting him so much?

"Let me show you."

☆☆☆

Everything you did was unexpected to him. You had reached for his hand and did not let go. There was a smile constantly on your face as you walked with him through his palace.

He had never just walked through his realm before. He normally walked with a purpose, a job to do. You were walking with him simply because you wanted to.

"What are we doing?" He asks, not once taking his eyes off of you.

"Just walking."

"Where to?"

"No set destination. We're just going to walk together."

Your hand was smaller than his. So soft. So gentle. So warm. He glances down at your entwined hands, fascinated by the way they looked together.

"Sometimes you just need to walk and see."

He doesn't say anything as you both keep walking.

"What do you wish for?" You ask him.

"I have no wish."

"Everyone has a wish."

You look at him to see his expression as stoic as ever. Those eyes were hard to read, but somehow, you could understand him.

"Do you want to know my wish?"

"I feel you will tell me either way."

You giggle.

"I wish you were happy."

Now that caught him off guard. Of all things he thought you might say, that wasn't one of them.

"Who says I am not?" He asks you, his voice stern.

"Your sister. I also see that loneliness in your heart. Is it such a bad notion to let someone in?"

He stares at you.

Perhaps not.

"I don't need someone."

You smile.

Yes, you do.

☆☆☆

Dream sits with his back up against the tree. Your head rests in his lap. He's not sure how he came to this, but here he was. You were looking up at him with bright eyes.

"Do you not believe in love?"

He looks down at you. His lips slightly parted. You ask him the most strange questions sometimes.

"Of course I do. It is a fundamental part of human life."

"What of the Endless?"

"We do not need it."

"Is that what you think? I don't agree with you. I think you're scared of falling in love with someone."

"Scared?"

"Yes. It's foreign to you. You're not used to receiving it, nor giving it."

He states at you silently.

"I have so much love to give," you tell him. "Can I give it to you?"

Dream finds himself unable to think. He feels his heart racing in his chest. Why do you keep making him feel like this? What is this spell you have cast on him?

"Why?" He asks.

You smile. "Because I want to."

Dream states at you, breath caught in his throat, thoughts running wild in his head.

What if he let you?

What would happen?

☆☆☆

You smiled as you ran up behind him and hugged him from behind. He was startled by your sudden hug. Your arms wrapped around his torso and settled on his chest. He could feel you hide your face in his back.

Slowly, he reached up and placed his hands over yours.

"You sound happy."

You smile and look up, but remain behind him where he can not see you.

"I am."

"What happened? Why has such happiness befallen you?"

You chuckle.

"Jessamy told me something."

"Did she? What did she tell you?" He asks, curious about what his raven was sharing with you.

"She told me you were jealous when I left to visit Death. She said you were lonely without me."

Dream says nothing. He does nothing.

"Did you miss me?" You ask.

More silence.

"I'm back now. We can spend some time together. Shall we visit Fiddler's Green again?"

His hands remain enclosed around yours. A small smile appears on his lips.

"Yes please."

☆☆☆

Dream was in love.

You were dancing among the flowers singing a happy tune. You were so carefree and happy.

He was falling in love with you. Hard.

You took a deep breath, taking in the fresh air. The sun was shining down on you. This was your dream. It was beautiful, just like you. You looked... phenomenal.

You stop when you catch him looking at you.

You have been living in his realm for quite some time now. You had made this place your home. You belonged here, with him.

He loves you.

His heart yearns for you.

"What is it?" You ask, looking at him.

Dream walks over to you slowly. You stand there watching him. You're trying to read the expression on his face, but it is unlike any you have seen on him before. He reaches out and gently pulls you closer by your waist.

Your cheeks tint pink. You can feel your heart racing.

"Marry me."

Your eyes widen. You stare at him. Did he say what you think he said? You're not quite sure. He's staring at you intensely.

"Huh...?"

"Marry me," he says again, even more firmly.

You stare at him for a moment before you smile and wrap your arms around his neck. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes.

You take the chance to kiss him.

He loves you.

☆☆☆

You look up at your husband with a smile. He smiles back at you. His arm is snug around your waist as she holds you close to him. The light filters through the stained glass windows, casting you in a beautiful glow.

"You're beautiful."

You blush softly.

"You're beautiful," you tell him.

Dream paused. He had never been told that before. He began to smile again.

"I love you," he whispers.

You smile and caress his cheek. "I love you too, Morpheus. Now and always."

Dream leaned into your touch.

The Dream Lord did believe in love. He believed in your love. He would have to make sure to thank his sister when he saw her next.

For now, he was going to show you just how much he loved you.

☆☆☆

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#symphony of dreams #morpheus x reader #the sandman #female reader #dragon writes

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