#ill be posting the others over the next little while | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

soaps-mohawk · 8 months ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 39: Life

Summary: Something begins to throb in your chest as you lay there. Something thrums deep within you, something you haven’t felt in weeks.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 8,194 words

Warnings: Angst, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, PTSD, nightmares, POV changes, depression and anxiety, illness, language, slightly graphic imagery, very slight violence, rumination, lots of feels, and yes finally some comfort

A/N: Yes, it has finally arrived. The time has come. We are now in the comfort. This very much is a good place to end things for the next month. If you haven't seen my post then I'll say it here, I will be putting the fic on a brief hiatus for the month of October. I have Kyletober planned and trying to do CRCB at the same time will be too much. So this will be the last chapter for a couple weeks while I focus on other things and just give my brain a little break from CRCB. It's been eight months of just pumping out long chapters every week, or almost every week, so I need a little break to focus on other things. I'll still be writing and posting things here (and Ao3 of course) but there won't be another CRCB chapter posted until November.

But anyway, I hope you enjoy this one and the comfort starting and I'm super excited for what's coming next month (can't believe it's almost October)

11/30/24: **This chapter has been edited and rewritten from its original version**

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“I need you to be brave.” Christine says, staring up at him.

His heart thumps in his chest. How bad is it that not only did she summon him down here, but she’s asking him to be brave. He knows you’re sick, that you’ve fallen ill after your moment of anger earlier. She had informed them over dinner as she made some broth that you came down with a fever.

They had all been worried, sharing glances at the news. John looked like a dog that had been scolded. It was his fault, after all.

If anything happens to you, it is his fault.

Johnny swallows the lump in his throat, nodding slowly as he stares down at Christine. “I can be brave.”

Christine stares up at him for a long moment before nodding. She pushes the door open, leading him inside your room. The scent in the air is thick, tainted by the bitter scent of anxiety still lingering in the air, and the sour scent of illness. He misses the fresh scent of strawberries, he has missed it over the last few weeks. Your scent had taken on a bitter edge ever since the cameras were revealed to them. It’s only gotten stronger recently after the events that transpired.

All of their scents have been off lately.

It’s dark in the room aside from the bedside lamp. It casts a soft glow around the room, elongating the shadows in the corners. They loom threateningly, and his fingers twitch to turn on the overhead light.

You don’t like the overhead light. It’s too bright.

You always prefer softer light. Is it an omega thing, or is it just a you thing? He’s not quite sure.

How little they really understand you.

The lamp illuminates a pile of blankets on the bed, stacked one on top of each other to create a lump of soft fabric. You’re underneath that pile, he knows it. You’ve always liked blankets, always carried one with you in the barracks, eternally cold in the harsh world they existed in on base. This many blankets though? It was excessive even for you.

He approaches the bed slowly, scared at what he might find. Images of you laying in a puddle of blood, cold and stiff fills his mind. Images of a skeletal figure reduced to nothing but skin stretched over bones has his heart racing. What will he find on the other side of that pile obscuring you from his vision?

He swallows down his fear, reminding himself that he’s a soldier. He’s seen dead bodies before, he’s killed before. So why is he so scared now?

This isn’t war. It’s you.

He steps up to the side of the bed, looking down on you. You’re shivering, trembling under the blankets. Sweat beads on your forehead, skin dewy and clammy in your fever. You look more alive than the skeletal figure he had pictured in his mind, but you don’t look well.

You look near death.

“I’m worried about her.” Christine says, closing the door behind her. “She needs someone from her pack close. You’re making the most effort right now, and if anyone might get through to her, it’s you. She needs...someone.” Christine sighs. “Someone who can offer what I can’t.”

“She needs a member of her pack.” Johnny says, easily putting together what Christine was saying.

He knows what she’s asking. He’s scared. He’s not sure how you’ll react. The last people you want to see right now is your pack, including him. How will you react to having him so close?

��Exactly.” Christine says, stepping up right next to him.

Her fingers wrap around his wrist, and he lets her guide his hand to your cheek. It’s hot and clammy against his palm, a fire blazing under your skin. You let out a shuddering breath, the air fanning weakly against his wrist. Your head turns just slightly, pressing into his hand. It’s a good sign, despite the delirium you have to be stuck in. What are you imagining is happening right now? What is your brain telling you?

“Touch her, talk to her.” Christine says, releasing his wrist. He keeps his hand there, pressed against your cheek. “We need to try and get her back before this gets worse.”

Before they lose you.

She won’t say it out loud.

She doesn’t need to.

Johnny nods, turning his head to look at Christine over his shoulder. She looks exhausted, and not just because of the late hour. She’s done so much over the past few weeks watching you and caring for you. Maybe it is time one of them tries to step up and help her. You can’t avoid them forever, no matter how much you might feel like trying.

He has to try. For you.

“I know what tae do.” He says, his eyes flickering to the books stacked on your dresser, the ones Simon and John picked up.

Christine squeezes his arm. “I’m just across the living room if you need me.”

“I’ll try not to.” He says.

She stares up at him for a long moment before nodding. She understands. He doesn’t have to say much else. She leaves the door cracked and he doesn’t mind, moving away from you to look through the books on the dresser. A handful of them are new, or at least ones he’s never seen you read before. A couple are ones he knows are in your collection at the barracks. He picks one of those, some fantasy novel he’s seen you read more than once.

He looks between the bed and the chairs. He could pull one over and sit by your side.

No, Christine said it was better to touch you.

Instead he climbs onto the bed, sitting close enough he can feel the heat from your body. He cracks open the book, flipping through to the first page. He clears his throat, staring down at you for a moment before he begins to read.

Rain batters the roof, coming down hard outside. The wind is blowing, whooshing past the house, rattling the shutters. The storm blew in from the sea, dumping rain by dinner and then the wind picked up by the time they were all getting ready to settle in for the night.

It feels fitting, a storm blowing in at a time when a storm is brewing within their pack.

The storm he blew into their pack.

He lays there in bed, listening to it rage outside. It’s quiet in the house, Simon and Johnny already settled in, and so are you downstairs. Kyle is beside him, but not asleep. He’s laying awake again as they have done since their arrival. He can feel the heat of Kyle’s body against his arm as he lays on his back, Kyle on his side facing away from him.

“You just had to do it, didn’t you?” Kyle asks quietly, breaking the silence. “Can’t even go a week without trying to apologize knowing full well she won’t forgive you.”

John stays silent, having expected some kind of reprimanding for his actions. He really was selfish for what he did. Kyle is right. You won’t forgive him, no matter how many times or ways he tries to say sorry.

“You’re just making it worse.” Kyle huffs out. “You’re the last person that should try apologizing right now.”

“You’re right.” He finally says. “It was selfish of me to do that. I just wanted her to know-”

“She knows.” Kyle snaps, cutting him off. “She’s not stupid and oblivious. She knows we’re all feeling guilty, she knows how sorry we all are. She won’t let us apologize until she’s ready. Shows just how little you actually understand her, trying to do that.” Kyle pushes himself up to sit. “She doesn’t want words. She’s had words spewed at her, her whole life telling her what to do, how to feel, how to act. She wants actions. She wants us to prove to her that we do care, that we are sorry, that we’re making an effort to make things up to her. She wants us to prove that we’re putting her first by putting her first.”

John knows he’s right. Words won’t solve a situation like this. None of them know where to start, though. How do you try and make things up to someone when you’re not even sure that person wants you to try?

“She’s sick now, because of what you did.” Kyle continues. “If anything happens to her...” He trails off, shaking his head.

“I’ll let you take the first shot.” John says. “I know. I’ve been a miserable excuse of an alpha. It’s easy when you have the confines of the military to hold everything in place. When those expectations dictate your life and how to run a pack. It’s easy, when you can exist as a pack with those set routines and structures. The facade that makes everything seem like it's working.” He shakes his head. “We never would have worked outside of those confines.”

Kyle’s head turns slightly towards him, but his gaze is still on the far wall. “No, we wouldn’t have. None of us would have chosen this in the first place.”

“Probably not.” John agrees. “Then we got an omega added, an outsider that showed us just how weak we really were.”

“We were crumbling long before that.” Kyle says. “We weren’t ready for an omega, we shouldn’t have ever had an omega.”

“I should never have been head alpha.” John says. “Being an alpha is different from being a captain. It shouldn’t have been me.”

Kyle snorts. “He would have never agreed.”

“That delay might have saved us.”

“Or it would have made things worse.” Kyle says. “Shepherd wanted us to bond with her right away so his control over us would strengthen if he had to use that power. If those bonds weren’t put into place when they were, they might have tried to force it.”

“That would have only destabilized things further.” John says. Kyle isn’t wrong. Who knows what lengths they would have gone to, to ensure what they wanted would happen. “They were watching us from the start. They knew exactly how to play all of us.”

“Simon was right all along in his suspicions.” Kyle says, laying back down on the bed. Their shoulders are touching. It feels nice, having him close again. They’ve been close for the last few days, forced together by their sleeping arrangements, but it feels different now.

“He’ll be a better alpha than I ever could be.” John says quietly, almost speaking to himself.

“I think she will come to forgive you eventually.” Kyle says, turning his head to look at John. “You just have to give her time. A lot of time. You have to figure out how to prove yourself worthy of that forgiveness.”

“I want to take her to the beach.” John says. “Once she’s recovered.”

“If she recovers.” Kyle had pieced together the worry in Christine’s voice combined with her words. They all had.

“She will.” John says, sliding his hand across the sheets. “She’s a tough little thing. She’s not going to give up just like that.”

“I hope you’re right.” Kyle says. He doesn’t pull away as John’s fingers brush his hand.

“I may not have the best track record with being right currently, but I’m confident in her and her strength.” John turns his head to look at Kyle in the darkness. The storm is calming outside, the wind dying down and the rain lightening. “She’s stronger than all of us combined.”

The corners of Kyle’s lips twitch. “You are right about that.”

It smells good.

There’s a rich scent in the air as you begin to wake. It smells like Christmas, like spices and citrus. Warm gingerbread and cider. Freshly squeezed orange juice on Christmas morning just like every year. It had been your favorite, though you never understood the lengths your mother went to, the early morning and the hours spent in the kitchen on Christmas slaving away to make everything perfect. Everyone got something they wanted, something they loved. You never appreciated that effort until now.

Oranges. Spices. Warmth.

You know that scent.

It’s hot in the room, sweat soaking your skin as you lay on your right side. Heat surrounds you like a cocoon, just like the scent. Warm and soft and too much. You try to wiggle out from under the blankets but you can’t move, so instead you shuffle them off. Some of them hit the floor with soft plops, the others just barely hanging on the side of the bed, trapped under your body. You’re still stuck, still hot as you lay there, a comforting weight around you. The scent floods your nose, fills your body with a pleasant feeling as you lay there, breathing through your nose. Oranges, spices, warmth.

Someone is baking a pie.

It smells good. You want to bury yourself in it, press yourself into that scent until it’s the only thing you can smell. It brings you a comfort you didn’t realize you were missing. Something fills your chest, a weight beginning to press down inside of you.

Your hair sticks to your face as you lay there, tempted to get up and see who is baking and why. There’s weight pressing down on you from the outside as well. You can’t move. You’re stuck.

The weight around you moves.

No, it’s not pie.

It’s Johnny.

That’s why you know the scent. That’s why it feels so familiar, so comforting. It’s Johnny. Johnny is pressed up against your back, his arm tossed over your waist. That’s why it’s so hot, his body putting off warmth like a heater.

You should be angry at the breach of your clearly placed barriers. You should be upset that he would come in here and just climb in bed like this. You should be pissed that one of them would try something like this after your outburst yesterday.

You shouldn’t be crying.

Not out of relief.

Oh how you missed this.

Something begins to throb in your chest as you lay there, crying quietly in Johnny’s arms. Something begins to thrum deep within you, something you haven’t felt in weeks. Life? Hope? Happiness?

You should be upset.

You can’t be.

Johnny grunts quietly behind you, his arm leaving your waist as he stretches. He’s awake now, or maybe he hadn’t been at all and had been waiting for some sign of life, some movement from you, something to try and give him a hint at what you must be feeling. He doesn’t say anything, laying still as you sniffle in the silence. No one else is up yet, despite the blue light of dawn coming in through the gap in the curtain.

“Johnny?” You whisper, even the quiet sound hurting your sore throat. You’re thirsty, desperately so, but that’s a problem for later.

“It’s me, kitten.” He says hesitantly, the pet name making a sob tear from your throat.

“Johnny,” You cry, the tears falling in a cascade. You can’t stop them. You’ve lost complete control as you lay there sobbing. “Hold me.”

He doesn’t say anything else, his arms wrapping around you and tugging you close against his chest. He locks you in his embrace, holding you tightly against his chest as you cry. It feels good. Life and energy flows through you again for the first time in weeks. That empty space in your chest begins to fill slowly, warmth blossoming in your body despite the sweat soaking you both. Johnny offers no complaints as he presses his face into your hair.

How you missed this.

How you need this.

You seem more relaxed at dinner. Despite your angry outburst the day before, and your sudden illness, you look significantly less miserable than you did your first attempt at joining them for dinner. The yelling did a number on your throat, but even now it’s nothing compared to that first day. You’re having soup again, and this time there’s a side of mash and peas next to the bowl.

You even walked to the table without the crutch.

Simon sits beside you again, all of them taking their respective seats at the table. They’ve assigned themselves these seats, even when you don’t join them for a meal. You’re at the head of the table as you were the first time, Simon and Chrstine on either side of you. Kyle and Johnny are seated next to them, and John is across the table from you. You’ve been avoiding looking at him. You haven’t even so much as glanced up at him.

Simon is watching you carefully out of the corner of his eye, trying not to make it obvious. If you’ve noticed, you haven’t shown any disapproval. He’s ready in case he has to act fast again, but you are far more steady than you were that first time. There’s no tremble to your hand as you bring the spoon up to your mouth.

The others look happier than before too. Johnny has stopped crying. Not even a sniffle from him ever since this morning when he emerged from your room. None of them had said anything about it, though they have an inkling of what had happened, judging by Christine’s lack of reaction to it. Kyle looks happier too, sitting straighter like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. It probably has, with the lightening of the mood. Whatever happened with Johnny this morning, it’s made a huge change already.

John has never been much of a religious man, but god bless Johnny for whatever magic he worked this morning.

You don’t even look feverish as you sit there, spooning soup into your mouth. A lingering low-grade fever, Christine had informed them earlier that afternoon, but significantly less concerning than things had been yesterday.

He’s glad to hear it. He’s always glad to hear Christine’s updates on how you’re doing, how well you’re healing, at least physically. The body heals easily. Mentally...there’s still a long way to go. Healing physically will help mentally, but with all the trauma, years and years of trauma, it’s going to take a long time to heal from that.

The clink of your spoon in your bowl draws him from his thoughts and he glances up at you.

“Getting full?” Christine asks as you take a sip of your water, wincing slightly as you swallow it.

“Can I have some tea?” You ask.

“Sure,” Christine says, going to push her chair back, but John is already standing.

“I’ll make some.” He says, not offering any room for argument as he turns his back on the table to head for the kettle.

You’ve been drinking more tea lately, likely to soothe your throat. He never thought he’d see the day, given your determination to stand with Johnny on the side of coffee. It’s a bit late for coffee, but he does know it wouldn’t keep you awake in the slightest. You love your sleep, as most omegas do, and nothing will get in the way of it. Not even some late evening caffeine.

He sets mugs out on a tray, deciding to make tea for everyone. At least that way it’ll make it seem less targeted at you. He’s not doing it to try and impress you or win your affections back. He just wants to help take the load off of Christine’s shoulders. She’s done so much for you, for all of them, already.

He steeps the tea before bringing the mugs to the table along with some milk and sugar. He knows at least Simon and Kyle will drink some, and he will as well. He brings the kettle over, filling the mugs with tea. All of them sit there watching him, waiting tensely for what will happen next. Will you take the mug of tea he offers? Or will you refuse. Even if you threw it in his face, it wouldn’t make him mad. It would be horribly painful, yes, but he would deserve it.

Perhaps him doing this was a mistake.

He stares at the sugar and milk as he grabs one of the mugs. Do you like sugar or milk in your tea? He’s not sure. He doesn’t even know how you take your tea. He knows you like creamer in your coffee. But how do you take your tea?

What a sad excuse of a human being he is.

You don’t look at him as he sets the mug next to your water glass. You’re still eating your soup, your hand trembling just slightly now. Your scent is tainted still, a whiff of it filling his nose. Displeasure, a hint of burning anger.

This was a mistake.

He sets the milk and sugar next to you first, letting you finish making your tea. He won’t push that boundary and risk making it wrong. It would only add fuel to the fire, make it more obvious that he knows and cares so little for you. He doesn’t even know how you take your tea.

He takes his seat again as the others help themselves to the tea, even Johnny taking a mug. Whether he’s doing it because he wants to make the moment feel less awkward, or because he genuinely wants some, John will never know.

He made a mistake in doing that.

Still, despite the awkwardness, it felt good to do that.

Maybe that’s how they get closer to you.

The little things, things that take some of the pressure off Christine. She has to be getting tired, going nonstop all day. Anything they can do to help, they should. Things seemed to go well with Johnny, so maybe the others can have some success in their attempts to gain your favor once more.

John will have to stay away for now. Distance is what you need from him.

That’s alright. He has other things he can do.

He tries to hide the small grin on his face as you pick up the mug, taking a sip of the tea.

They’re fighting.

You stand at the back door watching them throw punches. They’re solid punches, nothing held back, no pulling them. They’re all breathing heavily, two of them watching the other two fight.

Simon’s fist meets Kyle’s shoulder, Kyle’s fist going for Simon’s head but he’s too fast, ducking before he drives his shoulder into Kyle’s stomach. Kyle hits the grass, disappearing from your view.

John steps forward, pulling Simon back and speaking to him, but you can’t hear from this distance.

“Still out there?” Dr. Keller asks, stepping up beside you.

“Yep.” You say, watching as Johnny takes Kyle’s place against Simon.

“John did say it would be good for them.” Dr. Keller says, wincing as Johnny’s fist hits Simon’s ribs.

“They’re gonna start a real fight.” You say, watching as Simon starts to get more aggressive. You can tell because you’ve been in that position before. You’ve seen when that switch starts to flip, when the alpha starts to take over. He was never this aggressive with you, but perhaps even his alpha could be rational given your obvious size and strength difference.

And the fact you’re an omega.

“Well, that’s their problem.” Dr. Keller says. “As long as they keep it out there.”

“They might make you patch them up afterwards.” You say.

She lets out a snort. “There’s ice packs in the freezer and a first aid kit in the bathroom.”

You try to hide your smile as you watch John get in between Johnny and Simon, speaking to Simon again. Maybe it will be good for them to get some of that pent up energy out. They’re all used to being so active and always having something to do. Being stuck inside has to be driving them stir-crazy. Simon has been going on runs in the morning, and you know John has been going on walks every so often.

You’re starting to feel a bit stir-crazy yourself. It’s taking you back to the days shut up in the barracks, unable to go anywhere or do anything, having to entertain yourself for hours while they were gone. At least there you had space and room to move around, even when you were being trailed, one of them constantly following you around. They might not be hovering quite as obviously here, but it still feels suffocating, like you can’t truly have a moment to yourself.

“I want to go for a walk.” You say, shifting on your feet. The likelihood of you going very far is slim, at least right now.

How far you’ve fallen from your running days.

“I suppose you could go for a little walk.” Dr. Keller gives you a sideways glance. “Might be good to help get your strength back. I doubt they’d let us go without one of them, though.”

“Probably not.” You agree, knowing they won’t even let you sit out on the porch without one of them watching. If you left the house without even telling one of them, all hell would break loose and you’d be condemned to your room once more.

The thought makes you wince.

You almost wish you could go out there and throw some punches at one of them. That might make you feel a bit better. Hell, line them all up and you’ll take turns beating the crap out of all of them. Maybe that might heal some of the anger and pain still stuck inside of you.

That’s an idea for a different day, though.

It’s oddly warm out today, or at least that’s what Ashley said. Soon the weather will turn, though, and the cold rain will come. Lots of rain.

Your eyes flick between Ashley and Dr. Keller. The three of you are seated in a circle around a table outside, steaming mugs of tea in front of you. Neither of them are staring at you, instead focused on each other as Ashley speaks.

Dr. Keller has a crush.

It’s not hard to tell. Her eyes are focused on Ashley, a smile tugging at her lips. Her gaze only flicks to you when you shift and move in your seat before she’s staring at Ashley again. You can’t blame her. You can hardly bring yourself to look away from Ashely too.

It makes you almost miss Kyle.

They have the same soft brown eyes and the same bright smile. They’re both perfect, like they were chiseled out of marble and brought to life. They even laugh the same, a genuine chuckle coming right from the chest.

It makes you want to laugh, even if you have no clue what was being said.

How has Kyle been handling this? You’ve hardly paid him any mind. His connection to John puts him too close to the source of your anger and rage and pain. Johnny cries, Simon is a brick wall, John reeks of guilt and misery. Kyle...you don’t know. He’s been a blank spot, a hazy figure in the distance.

It almost makes you feel bad. You’ve completely cut him off, isolated him. Has he cried? Has he been sulking? How miserable does he feel about everything? Does he feel guilty or miserable at all? He has to. They all do.

Good. You think. They deserve it.

“You do get stuck in your head, huh?”

Your gaze snaps up, looking between Dr. Keller and Ashley. They’re both staring at you quietly, a small smile on Ashley’s face. You did get lost in your thoughts again, stuck in your ruminations as you usually do. Lately it hasn’t been a problem, as you’re alone or with Dr. Keller often. You’re supposed to be thinking and processing. It just happens at the worst times.

Simon would hate it still.

“Something specific on your mind?” Dr. Keller asks.

You probably shouldn’t say anything. How would you explain how your mind went from Dr. Keller crushing on Ashley to hoping the guys feel guilty? You’re not even sure you should reveal that you know about Dr. Keller’s crush, especially if she hasn’t said anything yet. You don’t think she has. They’re not...close in the way a couple would be, a distance still between them. Does Ashley feel the same way? It’s hard to tell since you don’t know her quite as well yet.

Maybe that can be your goal, besides healing. Something to focus on, something to distract from the constant emotions and pain. Get Ashley and Dr. Keller together.

They’d be perfect for each other.

“Not really.” You finally say, looking down at the book in your lap. You’re about halfway through it. It’s fine. Nothing to write home about.

“What do you think of the book?” Ashley asks, sensing your end to that discussion. She doesn’t push. You like that about her.

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Kinda slow.”

“They are spending a lot of time on character development.” Dr. Keller says.

“We should keep a tally of how many times the phrase “his dark eyes” gets mentioned.” Ashley says, making you laugh.

“It’s good to hear you laugh.” Dr. Keller says, smiling at you.

“It...feels good to laugh again.” You say. “It’s nice to have something to laugh about.”

“Well then I’m going to make that my mission.” Ashley says, taking a sip of her tea. “Get you to laugh as much as possible.”

You don’t think you’ll mind that one bit.

“There’s something we need to talk about.”

You don’t turn to look as Dr. Keller sinks into the seat next to you. It’s raining again, the rain pattering against the window as you sit in front of it. They won’t let you go out in the rain.

“Something that is rather important.” She continues. “Something you should know.” She clears her throat, not waiting for a response. She knows she won’t get one. “When you told John that he left you there to be tortured...is that what Graves told you? Did he tell you they left you behind?”

Her words have something sinking in your stomach. Your insides are squirming, your intestines tying themselves in knots. You haven’t even thought about that. You’ve been so caught up in the emotions, swept up in the anger and devastation. The memories of what happened are still blurry, still stuck in the recesses while your body heals.

That pit in your stomach continues to drop as she stares at you, waiting for an answer.

You don’t want to answer.

“Hey,” She says softly, leaning to try and stay in your line of sight as your eyes begin to drop to the side. “We need to talk about this.” There’s a serious look on her face as your eyes slowly lift to stare at her again. “Do you believe they chose to leave you behind with Graves?”

Tears prick behind your eyes as you stare at her. Of course you do. Why wouldn’t they? They’ve left you behind so many times, what’s another? They don’t care that you were being tortured. They never cared that them leaving you before was like torture. Why would they waste the chance to go after Shepherd before he found a place to hide?

The job comes first.

“Yes.” You breathe, a tear sliding down your cheek. You want to say it, let all the thoughts rushing through your mind pour right out of your mouth but the tears choke you, keep you silent.

The serious mask on Dr. Keller’s face melts away to a sympathetic look. It doesn’t surprise you. It’s the look she often wears when she looks at you.

“Oh, honey.” She says, reaching out, but you withdraw yourself further away. “They didn’t leave you behind. They were doing everything they could to try and find where you were. John about blazed a path across the US to find you.”

You don’t want to believe it. It sounds too good to be true. Her words stir the bitter pot in your stomach, the anger at them and at yourself. You let yourself believe that they would care about you, but they led you to believe they cared. They left you so easily and you never said anything to them to try and keep them with you. They left you behind when they knew it was dangerous, and you believed Phil when he told you they had abandoned you.

Why would Phil tell you the truth? He wanted to torture you, wanted to take out his anger on you. It wasn’t your decision, nothing was your decision, but in the end the mark on your shoulder sealed your fate. You’d never belong to him. The more he could tear you and your pack down the better. The more hopeless you felt, the more you hated the members of your pack, the more satisfaction he would get.

He wanted to drive the wedge between your pack, and you fell for it.

Tears glide down your cheeks as you turn to face the window. They mirror the droplets of rain sliding down the glass. Your fingers curl against the fabric of the chair, your breaths starting to come in gasps as reality begins to settle in.

“You’re okay.” Dr. Keller says, kneeling next to the chair. “I was there with them, I saw just how desperate they were. They wouldn’t leave you like that. Trust me.”

Can you trust her? Can you trust any of them? Part of you would like to. The part of you that wants things to go back to the way they were, when things felt fine, when you still believed your pack loved you. Back when you could be delusional and believe something good could come of this entire situation.

Now you’re stuck with a pack that never wanted you. Now you’re stuck with the trauma of the last few weeks, trauma you should have never faced in the first place. Not if your pack truly cared about you. It was always a risk, but you always believed they would take care of you, they would keep you safe.

Now look at you.

A sob tears from your lips as you sit there, the thoughts quickly growing to be too much. Dr. Keller reaches for you but you pull away, pushing yourself up to stand. You move towards the bed, grabbing one of the plush pillows. You bring it to your face, letting out a long, muffled scream.

The scream dies in your throat as you jolt awake in bed. The book that had been in your hands when you fell asleep drops to the floor with a quiet thud as you jerk up into a seated position. You’re breathing heavily, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you try and calm your racing heart. It’s beating hard like it might beat right out of your chest. You’re shaking, your hands clutching at the baggy shirt you’re wearing like you’re trying to cling to some hope that it was all a dream, that you’re awake now and this is real life.

Sweat beads on your forehead as you sit there, shaking in the darkness. You need someone. The shadows are closing in around you, your nightlight unable to keep them completely away. You need someone to fight them back. You need someone to reassure you that it was all just a dream, someone that can wipe the tears streaming down your cheeks and whisper softly to you that it’s all okay. That it’s all over.

You need Kyle.

Where is Kyle? How do you get to him without waking the others? You could go upstairs but what if they think you’re an intruder? You don’t even know which room Kyle is in. You wish you had a phone. You wish you could call him. You wish you could just telepathically reach out and tell him you need him and only him.

You’ll wake them all anyway trying to find him.

You suck a breath in, your hands still shaking as they cling to your shirt. You have to do it. It’s the only way to get them all down here, to get Kyle down here.

You take a couple deep breaths before you scream.

Within seconds the house is alive, footsteps racing across the living room towards your room as others thud from above.

The overhead light stings your eyes, forcing them closed. It’s too bright, intrusive even with your eyes pinched closed. You can still see it behind your eyelids, harsh and too artificial. Just a price you have to pay to get what you need.

Dr. Keller’s hands are soft as they peel your hands off your shirt, your fingers trembling with nothing to hold on to. They open and close, seeking out something to grip, something to give you an anchor to reality. You’re still panicking, your breaths shaky as you shit there, trembling in fear.

“You’re alright,” She tries to soothe you, brushing your sweaty hair back. “It was just a dream.”

You wish it was.

“Kyle.” The name comes out as barely a whisper, stuttering out of your trembling lips.

“What was that, sweetie?” Dr. Keller asks, leaning in closer.

“Kyle.” You whisper louder now, the name shaky in the tense silence of the room.

“Kyle,” Dr. Keller repeats, standing up straight.

Quiet, hesitant footsteps approach the bed. Your eyes are still pinched closed against the harsh overhead light. You can’t bring yourself to be brave enough to open them, to face that harsh light. It might reveal the truth, that it was all just a dream, that this is still just a dream.

It might not be Kyle approaching the bed at all.

You can’t know. You don’t want to know. You’re afraid to open your eyes.

There’s a click as the lamp is turned on. You still can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. It’s supposed to be comforting, the soft light, but it could be used against you, giving you a false sense of hope and security.

You flinch as the overhead light is turned on, still too afraid to open your eyes. Your hands have closed around the blanket pooled at your waist, gripping it so tightly your fingers are aching. It’s real. You’re touching it, you can feel the texture of it in your hands. It’s real.

It’s real.

Your breaths are shaky as you breathe in and out, trying to catch a scent. Any scent. Something to tell you that you’re really awake, that it really is Kyle standing next to the bed.

“I’m here.” A soft voice says, something hovering in the air next to you.

Kyle.

You know that voice. You’d know it anywhere.

You finally crack your eyes open, tears brimming as you turn your head to look up. Kyle is standing there awkwardly next to the bed, his hand raised as if he was reaching out to comfort you, but thought better of it. You’re glad he did. You might have spiraled into another panic if he’d touched you before you knew it was him.

You stare at his hand for a moment before you peel one of your hands away from the blanket. Your hand is shaky as you lift it, reaching out towards his own trembling fingers.

His fingers are warm and rough, just as you remember as they close around yours. You’re still shaking, a cold sweat forming on your skin as fear trickles down your spine.

What if this is a dream? What if this isn’t real?

“I’m here.” He says, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles.

You want to believe him. You really do.

You pull his hand closer, pressing your cheek against it. His skin is warm against your cheek, and like Johnny, he makes no complaints about your sweat smearing on his skin. You’ve been that close to them before, sweat mixing together, slicking skin. How far things have fallen since then.

Your tears drip onto his skin as you hold him there, just breathing him in for a moment. He smells like the sea, but with that soft, light scent underneath. You missed that scent, more than you realize you did.

You let out a quiet sound as you rub your cheek against his hand, almost like you’re trying to embed his scent under your skin.

He doesn’t say anything as you lean against his hand, tears still streaming down your face. The lamp is pushing some of the darkness away, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. You can still feel the eyes from the dark corners of the room, the shadowy figures just out of view threatening to reach out and tear you away.

A shudder runs down your spine, your fingers squeezing around Kyle’s in what has to be a painful grip.

“I’m here.” He says again, pulling you from the dark thoughts plaguing your mind. He’d know if someone was here. He’d know if anything threatening was nearby.

It’s his job.

The job.

The thing that’s kept you so separated from them, kept you at a distance. The thing that put your life in danger, that exposed them all as liars. The thing that’s left you an empty shell.

Maybe having him down here was a mistake.

But the shadows...

You tug on his hand, pulling him closer to the bed. He sinks down on the edge carefully, still a bit hesitant. You don’t blame him. It’s not like you’ve been the most welcoming of them. For good reason.

You need him right now. That need for safety and security far outweighs the conflicting emotions battling in your brain right now.

“Stay.” You say, the word tumbling out from your trembling lips.

“You’re sure?” He asks, his thumb still stroking your knuckles. You’re not sure if he even knows he’s doing it.

You nod, tugging him closer as you scoot over in bed. He lets you guide him, laying on top of the covers.

You try not to think about it too much.

It’s nice having him close. The shadows don’t seem quite as dark, the threats in them silent now that he’s here. He’ll keep you safe. He’ll protect you from the silent threats. That’s why you want him. That’s his role to play in all of this. They all have roles, they all have their places in the pack. They all have a part to play, not just for you but for each other.

They’ve been struggling.

They’re struggling because you’re struggling.

The silence is loud as you lay there listening to the hum of electricity. You’re not quite sure what to say, how to break the silence. What is there to say that you haven’t already conveyed by your silence? What is there to say beyond what you’ve conveyed in your anger? They all heard your outburst, they all know the source of your anger and what they did to cause it.

What’s left to say when you have nothing tying you together anymore except a claim and a half-broken bond? What is there to say when saying the wrong thing might fray that bond even more than it already has been?

“I’m sorry.” Kyle says, finally breaking the tense silence.

Of course he’d start with that.

You let out a huff, turning on your side to face away from him. “I know you all are. You don’t have to keep saying it.”

He lets out a sigh. He knows it. He’s not apologizing to you, for you. “Nothing can change what we did and we know that. We just...want you to know that we’ll do whatever it takes to help you and support you. We don’t want to push that boundary too far, but we’re all here if you need us.”

You let out a hum. You already know that too. That’s why Johnny came so willingly, that’s why he stayed. That’s why they all tiptoe around you and stare at you like you’re a wild animal that may strike at any moment.

Part of you wishes they wouldn’t.

Part of you wants to go back to the way things were. Part of you wants to pretend that everything is normal again, that you love them and they love you just as much. You want to go back to that comfortable, seamless flow of one around the other, the way they all moved in sync, aware of each other without even needing to look. You want to insert yourself into that flow again and let them guide you along with them. You want to trust them blindly again and know they’d catch you if you fall.

They proved they won’t though. They proved you can’t trust them to catch you. You’re on your own again, forced to catch yourself, forced to save yourself. You have to make that rope to catch yourself with.

Yet, a deeper part of you yearns for that connection. Your omega screams for it, for your alpha, for your pack. You want them back with you, you want the bonds to heal and to be stronger than they were before. You want them to do as they said and prove to you that they’ve changed, that they're putting you first.

The omega should be first. The omega should be the center. The omega should be the sun they gravitate towards, revolve around.

That’s what the book said. That book that’s sitting on your desk in the barracks. That book you read over and over, convincing yourself that it was true and they were a good pack like that book said.

They’re not.

We all make mistakes.

They’ve never had an omega before. How are they supposed to know how to have an omega in their pack if they’ve never had one before? None of them came from big packs. John is the only one who’s ever even dated an omega before. They’re just as new at this as you are.

You probably know more than them.

You spent years learning how to be an omega in a pack. You read the books and wrote the essays and did the research. You read that book.

Simon read that book too.

Yet he did nothing.

“Why did you want me?” Kyle asks softly, pulling you from your ruminations.

You turn your head to look at him, staring into those soft brown eyes. Brown eyes you’ve missed. Tears trail down your cheeks as you stare at him, wetting the paths of the ones that had slowed to a stop in your rumination.

Why did you want him and not Johnny?

Johnny was the one that came for you, that comforted you, that got you through your fever. Johnny was the one you asked to hold you, to give you that support you’ve been so desperately clawing for.

So why did you ask for Kyle?

You turn onto your back again so you’re laying side by side, your shoulder brushing his. He’s warm, and you just want to nuzzle into him and never let him go again.

Another tear slides down your face as you stare at him, at that concerned look on his face. “I need you to tell me it’s going to be okay.”

That concern morphs into understanding as he shifts slightly, reaching out for you. You let him, you let his thumb brush the tear sliding down your cheek away. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just staring at you as you lay there in the warm light of the lamp. The shadows don’t seem so close now, so threatening with him here. The things that lay in the darkness waiting for you to sleep so they can seep into your mind and stir up the horrible memories lying there in wait are at bay for now, fought off just simply by his existence in this room.

His thumb continues to brush your cheek, your skin tingling along the path it follows. “It’s going to be okay.” He says softly, quietly.

You’re not sure if he’s convincing you of that or himself, or perhaps both. You don’t know what he’s feeling, what he’s been feeling. You’ve been ignoring him, pushing him away out of fear that if you looked too closely, you’d break down. That bond will never break between the two of you, held tight with steel simply because of that claim your alpha and his alpha has on the both of you. No matter how much you hate John, that bond can’t be broken. It can’t be cut. It can’t go away. It can’t be denied. Not completely.

A small smile tugs at Kyle’s lips, a reassuring smile. His words are stronger this time, spoken with more conviction and surety, like he’s speaking it into existence, manifesting it for the future when things perhaps can be different.

When things are better.

“It’s going to be okay.” He says, cupping your cheek, staring right into your eyes as he speaks. “We’re going to be okay.”

NEXT ->

To be notified about new chapters, please follow HERE and turn on notifications

#call of duty #call of duty fic #poly 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #Johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #Kyle Garrick x reader #gaz x reader #John price x reader #captain price x reader #Simon Riley x reader #Ghost x reader #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega #omegaverse

2K notes · View notes

gojoest · 1 year ago

Text

𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns used, wc: 3.3k, flashback of how you met (1st part of the fic, past tense used, then we jump back to present, divider used to separate the two timelines. both take place on his birthday btw), suguru makes an appearance (as satoru’s wingman :3), established relationship (you’re married & have a daughter), reader wears a dress, first time face sitting + riding (oral, f! receiving), pet names (baby, my love), he cums in his pants, breeding implied at the end (sort of, to avoid spoilers)

a/n: happy birthday to my biggest mental illness ♡

side note: if the story of how you met sounds familiar to you, please note that it was from one of my talk posts from a while ago & i decided to make use of it : )

what gojo satoru wants — he always gets.

after all, it’s how he made you his as well.

“satoru, you’re staring way too hard at her”, suguru nudged him on the arm.

“think she noticed, too?”, satoru chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning slightly red from embarrassment, unsure if it was because he got caught or that it was too obvious he was checking you out.

“very likely. i mean, it’s hard not to notice an annoying pair of blue laser beams persistently invading your space”, suguru mocked. “are you going to talk to her?”

“yes”, satoru firmly replied, without peeling his eyes from you, “i’ll ask her out, i think”

“hey, hey. slow down there”

“nope”, satoru shrugged, almost like a stubborn child disobeying his parent, “i’ve made up my mind — i really want to make her mine”

it was a pure coincidence, or some might say fate, that you ended up in the same restaurant — he was there celebrating his birthday with a small circle of friends while you were present to honor your colleague that had just gotten a promotion at work.

satoru’s eyes relentlessly followed your every move, every gesture, from the moment you walked in and settled on the table next to his. it was rather unusual for him to be this interested in someone simply upon sight, in fact, even desiring to pursue something with someone so immediately. it was always the other way around — women would flock to him because of his looks and peculiar behavior, and of course — his money — but he would turn them down without batting an eye. love and seeking romance were never a priority for him, he did not have time nor any interest in them. but here he was, contradicting himself, being blatantly distracted by your presence while somehow trying to simulate an active conversation with his friends, more than frequently averting his gaze to look at you, his brain busy coming up with a plan to get your number by the end of the night.

it didn’t take him too long to finally make his move. he stood up from his chair and walked over to your table, stopping right behind your seat.

“excuse me”, he leaned in, placing one hand at the edge of the table and the other — at the back of your chair, “hello”, his face mere inches away from yours. taken aback by the way he, a complete stranger, had the guts to get this close to you, you turned to face him with a questioning look.

“i felt like i would regret it for the rest of my life if i didn’t come say hi to you”, he spoke.

truth be told, despite being astounded and a bit put off by his approach, you were slightly intrigued. he was handsome, pretty even — like that one oddly eye-catching cloud in a sky full of thousands that you notice as soon as you look up. the white henley shirt he was wearing made the blue in his eyes pop even more, the v-neck revealing a little bit of his well-crafted chest, just enough to leave you tiny bit wondering about the ridges of his abs beneath.

as much as the scenery up close made your cheeks feel hot, his boldness rubbed you up the wrong way, too much to let it just slide, and you snapped. “is that so? well, now that you’ve said your hi, you can go back to your table and live with no regrets for the rest of your life”, you rolled your eyes skeptically, pushing his hand off the table.

“oh, i am sorry”, he chuckled, brushing his hair back with a hand, “but there are three more things i need to do before leaving, i’m afraid”

you raised an eyebrow, questioning.

“first, let me introduce myself — i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children”, he smugly said. your eyes widening at the audacity of his declaration that left you at a loss for words. “second, i hope you don’t mind introducing yourself as well — as you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children — it’s only natural that i know your name”, he continued, “and last but not least — i am not leaving until you give me your number so we can make this all work”

wow. this man was really fucked in the head, you were sure of it — who in the right mind would speak such nonsense to someone they just met? “you have to be joking, right?”, you laughed in genuine disbelief.

“no. i am dead serious”, he replied in a heartbeat.

“is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?”, you narrowed your eyes.

“actually—”, suguru interrupted, placing a hand on satoru’s shoulder as he approached from behind, “no”, he spoke. “believe me when i tell you this — he’s never been this smooth in his entire life. i know he probably came off a bit creepy, considering the boldness of his actions — hell, even i am creeped out because it’s pretty unusual for him to act like this”, he laughed, glancing at satoru to let him know that he got his back on this. “but, what i’m trying to say is — my friend here seems to really like you as i’ve never seen him be so intense and interested in anyone before. he’s also a birthday boy today — so could you at least give him a chance before turning him down so quickly? you can come sit with us before you make up your mind on whether you want to give him your number or not?”

you thought for a second, weighing the options in your mind — he was pretty, although he annoyed you a little bit by being all bossy and arrogant as if you were compelled to belong to him just because he said so. but there was just something about him you couldn’t quite put your finger on that made you question yourself. were you actually drawn to him? you could say “no” and never hear from him again, occasionally pondering over the what-if’s and should-have’s from this night; or you could say “fuck it” and see where this strange encounter goes, and live your life without regrets — as he would say. there — he was already getting under your skin…

“well”, you sighed, “guess i’m down for that”

by the end of the night not only did you give him your number, but also a promise for a date the next day — the first of many to follow after.

“careful, you’ll wake her up”, you whisper, leaning against the doorframe of your 3-year old’s room and watching your husband place a soft peck on your daughter’s forehead.

“can’t help it”, he speaks quietly, “she looks like an angel”, before fixing the blankets around her, making sure she’s tucked in all cozily. “the nanny said she cried for papa while we were gone”, he puts a hand over his mouth to stop his lips from trembling, his eyes filled with nothing but love and tenderness, welling up and flowing from the corners.

“she’s such a daddy’s girl”, you sigh, a soft smile present on your face, “next year we can stay home and invite everyone else over — that way we won’t have to worry about missing her bedtime”.

“yea”, he hums, “let’s do that next year”, giving her one last kiss before turning off the night lamp and tiptoeing to you. “come on”, he puts a hand at the small of your back as you both walk out of the room.

“do you remember”, satoru speaks softly into your ear while walking behind you on your way to your shared bedroom, his front flat against your back, the hand at the small of it now circling around to rest over your navel, while the other — reaches for the handle of your bedroom door to push it open, “the night we first met on my birthday?”, he continues after carefully guiding you inside.

you stop in the middle of the room, his arms still wrapped around you from behind, your hands resting over his and playing with his knuckles.

“how can i not?” you chuckle, tilting your head back to let him rest his chin on your forehead, “that was one hell of a fortune telling you pulled on me back then”

“but i was right, no?”, he brushes his lips on your forehead before leaving a soft peck, “see — you’re all mine now, just like i said”, and then another, ”i made you my girlfriend first”, and another, “then i gave you my last name”, and a fourth one, “and then you gave me a beautiful daughter, made me a father”, before turning you around to face him.

“you partly owe it to suguru though — he eased me into the situation, unlike you”, you reply, humbling him like you always do. your head is nestled on his broad chest as one of his hands caress the back of it. still in his embrace, he slowly walks you towards the bed. sits at the edge of it and straddles you on his lap. his palms finding their way to the plush of your thighs draped over his, caressing them tenderly but needily as his fingertips press and then release against your flesh in quick repetitive motions.

“this is because i asked him to give me a hand in case you cut me off”, he admits, tilting his head to meet your lips, not to kiss but just to keep them brushing against each other as you speak. he loved doing this a lot.

“oh?”, you gasp into his mouth, pretending to be shocked to your core, “you wanted me so much that you of all people, the gojo satoru, had to ask someone else for help?”

“you have no idea. if that hadn’t worked, i would’ve fallen on my hands and knees and begged you to take me”, one of his hands reaching the side of your face, playing his fingers on the strands of your hair covering your cheek before tucking them behind your ear.

“hmm”, you doubt, “is that so?”, nuzzling your nose against his.

“mhmm”, he nods, “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, i thought you knew that by now. it kind of hurts my feelings that you doubt me actually”, he acts offended, pursing his lips and turning his head to the side to face away from you.

“oh my, what have i done now”, you knit your brows and press your cheek against his, pretending to be very, very sorry about what you just said.

“you made the birthday boy sad”, he huffs a silly, somehow obviously forced, pout, “you’ve got to make it up to me somehow”

“i’d do anything to make the birthday boy smile again — just say the word”, you sweetly pamper, patting the top of his head.

“really?”

“really.”

“anything?”

“anything.”

“you promise not to go back on your word?”

“i promise.”

he pulls his cheek away from yours and looks you in the eyes, the blue in his shining with a darker shade of mischief now. and considering the smug smile on his face, you sigh — perhaps you just got yourself played, falling face down into his little trap.

“then”, he points at his own face, “sit on it”

to say you were surprised by his request would be a lie. he’s many times tried coaxing you into doing this in the past but somehow you managed to avoid it, part of you still shying away from it. it’s not like his tongue has never been inside you before. but riding it as if it were his cock seemed way more obscene in your head than anything you two have ever done previously — and you’ve done pretty much a lot.

“well”, you sigh in defeat, seems like the time has finally come, “today’s your lucky day”, you say as you get up from his lap and turn your back — a signal for him to unzip your dress — to which, of course, he immediately complies.

“as it should be”, his crafty fingers work the slider down, slowly peeling the dress off your body and letting it fall on the floor, followed by your lace thong and bra, “it’s my birthday after all”

“the way you always find a way to make things go your way gets on my nerves so much”, you turn around again and push him on the bed and slowly climb on top of him to straddle his chest.

“make a wish before you blow the candle”, you look down at him, your pussy close to his face, the scent of you tickling his nostrils, and he, instinctively almost, takes a deeper breath, rolling his eyes back and hissing with delight.

“freak”, you quickly look away, embarrassed, but he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him again, “i want you to look at me as you ride my face”, his voice comes out breathy, “will you do that for the birthday boy?”

you nod into his palms, “you’re insufferable” — “suffocate me then”, he coos through a grin, grabbing your knees to pull you forward until you’re above his face.

“jerk”, you say, but softly, as you lower your cunt on his willing mouth, landing your softness on his face in slow motion, immediately earning a throaty groan from him that shudders through your pussy lips.

satoru breathes deeply in and out with your heat on his mouth, the scent of you hitting his lungs and even below, reaching all the way down to his groin to further nurture his cock already throbbing in his slacks. his hand reaching down to unbuckle them slightly, to give more space for his hard-on to grow freely.

“mowe”, he muffles incoherently into your pussy, grabbing a handful of your ass cheeks to push you against his face, tilting his head up and down, jutting his jaw up and out to meet you.

you whimper at the friction, your clit bumping and rubbing against his nose as his lips are kissing your folds, his tongue slowly poking at your entrance with the tip before darting in — twirling around your walls — and out.

“nghh…s-sa-t-to—”, you barely cry out his name, tugging at his hair, mercilessly pulling him into your heat. as much as you hated to admit it, you loved this position. your embarrassment long gone and forgotten, you ride his face in a haze, your pussy getting wetter against his mouth and your movements — faster and harder each moment.

“heawen on my fongwue”, he groans. if he could speak properly right now, he would probably make the nastiest, dirtiest remarks, shamelessly walk you through every single thing he was feeling as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding on his face. he would probably say something about your boobs, too. how they looked so pretty jiggling ever so slightly from the movement. he can’t speak right now, yes, but he can still get his thoughts reach you through actions — his hands run along your belly, gripping your breasts from below, squeezing and squishing them inside of his palms.

you clutch his hands with yours, “i can’t hold this position for too long”, and force them down on your hips for support. you hear him say something through a loud groan but it’s barely recognizable — most likely just him cursing “fuck” and “baby” from pleasure under your pussy, but also from the ego boost you just gave him — that he can make you weak but at the same time desperate enough to want to continue — despite your hips giving up — not only with his cock but his mouth alone, too.

you let him take over as you chase your high, weighing on his face as his hands grip on your hips, dictating your every move, composing the tune of your hips. his tongue is no more sliding in and out as he makes you grind harder on his face — it stays in, continuously licking your sweet spot clean.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck…”, you curse loudly, reaching your hands to grab the head of the bed and hammer your pussy harder into his face, squeezing every last drop of strength left in your already cramping muscles until you cum, shuddering on his mouth.

“mfff”, he groans throatily into your hole, sucking and slurping your juices. his hips buck in the air, helplessly searching for friction to soothe his aching cock. his half-unbuckled pants are drenched with precum, leaking out from his tip through his boxers and out through the cloth of his pants, visibly staining them.

you can’t see but it’s easy to figure out from the way the bed bounces up and down as his ass meets the mattress after every time his hips fall down. “how cute”, you utter as you try to calm down your breathing, cunt still resting over his face.

his eyes are half closed, rolling back and hiding their blue away. all he needs is a little push, a little rub, you know it. you know it by the way his tongue has stopped moving inside you, by the way his hands have loosened the grip on your flesh, by the way his shortened moans have grown into one long and steady groan coming from the bottom of his throat — his entire brain solely focused on the muscles of his lower body that is searching, almost beggingly, for relief.

you lean your upper body back a little, just enough to make it easier to reach his shaft while still sitting on his face. “since you’re the birthday boy”, you drag your words out as you place your hand on his clothed cock, feeling the wetness that’s emerged from beneath against your palm, “i’ll give you a hand.”

his ass cheeks tense and squeeze as he presses his hips against your touch, ferociously rubbing his clothed cock on the flesh of your open palm. his groans get louder as he bucks his hips under your hand, pushing them up to meet your hand harder and faster each time — just the way he forces his cock into your tight cunt as he nears — until the last three thrusts that he always prolongs in order to properly and completely pump his seed out.

the inside of your hand feels hot against his clothed cock as he seeps himself out, the stickiness of his cum absorbing itself into the material of his pants and emerging through it to reach the skin of your palm.

you lift yourself up a little only to plop your body down next to his. his mouth, cheeks, chin, even his nose, are covered in his spit and your cum, all mixed in.

“shit, baby”, he laughs, breathing deeply in and out of his mouth, overwhelmed by the whole experience, “what the hell did you just do to me”

“do you really need me to verbalize what just happened”

“yes”

“no”, you slap his cheek with the back of your hand, softly, before rolling on your side to rest your head on the left side of his chest, kissing it tenderly. “happy birthday”

“it really is”, he whispers, tracing a heart shape over the skin of your exposed cheek with his fingertip, “with you, it always is”

“did your wish come true by any chance?”, you tilt your head to look at him.

“not yet. but i’ll work on it later tonight. for now, i’ll let you catch your breath”

“wait, wait.”, you raise a brow, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“my love”, he clears his throat, “do you remember how i said, when we first met, that you’d be the mother of my children?”

“yea? am i not?”

“children”, he stresses.

“oh.”, it finally hits you.

“one more to go”

#ઈઉ — ai writes #[ ♡ ] — satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

5K notes · View notes

mononijikayu · 2 months ago

Text

killing me softly (with his song, telling my whole life with his words) — nanami kento and gojo satoru.

“You think this is relief, don’t you?” you murmured, watching the way his breath hitched at your words. “You think I’m staying because I still have hope for us.” He lifted his head slightly, blinking at you with bloodshot eyes, as if he didn’t want to admit it but couldn’t deny it either. “I….I do.” You took another drag of your cigarette, the tip glowing in the dim light of the kitchen. “But that’s not it, Kento. That’s not it at all.” “Then why?” His voice was desperate, strained, like he was afraid to hear the answer. You exhaled slowly, watching the smoke disappear into the air. “Because I don’t know how to leave. Not anymore……Isn’t that a tragedy?”

GENRE: alternate universe - actor/s au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, use of she/her pronouns, romance, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, hurt, love, fluff, humor, light-hearted, long-term relationship, marriage, loss, emotional distress, hatred, resentment, domestic, confessions, slice of life, distress, cheating, falling out of love, toxic relationship, drama, depression, bitterness, grief, trauma, illness, post-partum depression trauma, children, mention of blood, mention of birthing, mentions of pregnancy, mention of miscarriage, mention of bodily fluids, mention of depression, actor! nanami, actor! gojo, housewife! reader;

WORD COUNT: 15k words

NOTE: i know there's going to be other parts of nanami's part of this series, but the next chapter is going to introduce gojo satoru, since he's going to be part of this story and he has his own stuff going in, its best to go and understand his side of the story!!! i also wrote this while i was going through the heights of a friendship break up and a lot of depression. but anyway enjoy this one, i love you all <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip!

the good life ― masterlist.

YOU WERE EXPECTING IT, BUT YOU THOUGHT IT WOULDN’T HAPPEN YET. You were foolish to think that the paparazzi care about your feelings or your privacy. It happened on a Sunday. You hadn’t expected anything out of the ordinary for today, as after all, this was just downtime. And you weren’t that famous for people to flock to you like birds.

It was just a simple brunch with your kids, something you tried to do every other weekend now that your daughter Keiko was twenty-three and in university, and your son Kenshin was eighteen and practically living his own life. You had missed them, most days. The house was quieter these days to be sure, and you tried to hold onto these moments, no matter how brief.

But you realized it was better for them not to be around the house.

Especially with what has been happening lately, you didn’t want them to see.

It’s quite a blessing that your children were happy to stay off the grid in their day to day.

The three of you were seated in a cozy corner of a well-known café. It was one you had been coming to for years, where the baristas knew your usual orders and the scent of freshly brewed coffee always felt like a warm embrace. And it’s one you’ve come and met your children in for years now, at every little afternoon get together after school and sometimes your little bonding sessions during the weekends.

No one recognized you here, you were sure. If anything, it was because these parts of the city were not ones which many tourists come by. So you and your children were quite comfortable. You didn’t have to deal with the repercussions of being someone’s famous relative.

The dim lighting cast a soft glow over the wooden tables, and the gentle hum of conversations and clinking cups created a soothing background noise. Today was a rather slow day for the cafe, one which of course made it easier to enjoy the skies above and the conversations being heard.

Keiko leaned forward, her fingers wrapped around a steaming mug, bright caramel eyes alight with both excitement and exhaustion. “I swear, if I have to memorize one more obscure medical term, my brain is going to quit on me.”

She let out a dramatic sigh before taking a sip of her coffee, before looking at you. “I don’t know why you allowed me to go into medicine, mom.”

“You always say that before exams, and yet you still ace them, darling.” you pointed out with a small smirk. “Don’t worry too much. You’ll be fine!”

Keiko groaned. “That’s because I have no choice! Do you know how terrifying my professor is? He once failed half the class just because we didn’t label a diagram properly.”

Kenshin, sitting across from you with his arms lazily draped over the back of his chair, scoffed. “Oh, please. That’s nothing compared to the nonsense I have to deal with on campus. Just today, there was a full-blown argument in the student lounge over whose turn it was to clean the microwave. People were picking sides like it was a war.”

“You’re not serious, are you?” Keiko raises a brow.

“I’m not.” He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his iced coffee. “Honestly, some people have way too much free time.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Sounds like college politics at its finest.”

Kenshin smirked. “You have no idea. Someone even made a PowerPoint presentation about it.”

Keiko nearly choked on her drink. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was.”

As they continued bickering, you could only stare at your children warmly. They were just the same as when they were children. Keiko berating Kenshin for not stepping up as a responsible adult and Kenshin arguing that getting involved in petty campus feuds was beneath him.

You let out a small soundless chuckle as you leaned back in your chair, letting the warmth of the café and their familiar voices wash over you. For the first time in a long time, you felt something resembling peace.

And then you heard it.

The click of a camera.

The murmur of a voice.

And when you glanced over your shoulder — there they were.

You knew who they were, their faces, those paparazzi.

You froze, your heart plummeting into your stomach. They hadn’t approached yet. Still, you could see them as they linger by the wide entrance, but you could already feel it coming. The tension, the invasion, the violation of privacy. You turned back to your kids, forcing a smile.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” you muttered. “Let’s just finish our food.”

But it wasn’t fine. Because not two minutes later, one of them got bold enough to approach your table. A man, mid-thirties, camera slung around his neck, his phone already recording. And the second he opened his mouth, you knew.

“Excuse me, ma’am—”

You could see Kenshin’s jaw tensed.

Keiko’s entire jubilation just harshly fell.

You swallowed the bile down your throat.

“—Any comments about your husband, veteran actor Kento Nanami’s alleged affair? How do you feel about the reports claiming he’s been seeing another woman?”

Your heart stopped at the sudden question. You felt as though you could not move, your mouth open and shaking. And before you could even process what was happening, another reporter swooped in around you. Only this time a woman, shoving her phone practically in your face, making you uncomfortable and disturbed.

“Is it true you’ve known about his infidelity for years?” she pressed. “Is that why you’ve been absent from events lately? Have you separated from him, mam?”

Your daughter’s hand shot out. “Back off, already!” she snapped, her voice shaking. “She’s with her kids, leave her alone.”

But they didn’t care about all that.

“Ma’am, are you considering divorce?”

“Do your kids know about their father’s alleged mistress?”

“Is it true he cheated on you after you had your second child?”

Your breath was strangled in your throat. Your ears were ringing. It felt like the ground was collapsing beneath your feet. And the worst part was that your kids were right there, helplessly fending off all these people.

Kenshin was still so young but he was already dealing with the weight of being Kento Nanami’s son ever since he was announced to the world. And now, he was dealing with worse than that as he was staring hard at the table,.

His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were turning white. Keiko, who was barely an adult herself, looked seconds away from either crying or throwing her drink in one of their faces.

And you, well you always did what you did.

You faced your children well and fully smiled.

Like you always did, you wore the mask.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it, about me.” you said softly, reaching out to squeeze your son’s wrist. “Let’s just go home, alright?”

You stood up, taking your things as you continued hearing all the flurry of shutters and the murmurs of there she goes, she’s not denying it, she’s making it easy for us—but you didn’t flinch at what they were saying, no. Not one bit. You didn’t break. You kept your head high, your hands steady, your expression calm.

And as you pushed through the crowd of photographers with your two kids at your side, you heard one of them call out to you: “Mrs. Nanami, if you really don’t care, why haven’t you left him yet?”

That was the question that stayed with you all day. You didn’t answer. You didn’t turn around, didn’t spare them a glance. Instead, you just gripped your son’s wrist, wrapped an arm around your daughter’s shoulder, and walked straight to your car. The cameras were still flashing. The questions were still being thrown.

"Mrs. Nanami, can you confirm if the affair has been going on for years?"

"Are you planning to divorce him now that it’s public?"

"Do you have anything to say to the other woman?"

Keiko suddenly cursed under her breath and huffed, “Fucking vultures, the lot of them.”

“How the fuck did they find this place? We’re out of the Tokyo Metro!” Kenshin screeched, agitation all over his face. “Have they no shame?”

You purse your lips into a flat line. “.....Language.”

“Mom, this is not the time to correct us.” Keiko says in reply to you. ��I’m sorry, but I just….”

You just let your eyes stray somewhere else as you watched as she practically shoved her brother into the backseat and slammed the door shut. You took a breath before you opened the door and slowly slid into the driver’s seat, your fingers trembling so hard it took you three tries to get the key in the ignition.

All the sudden, there it was — that silence. No one wanted to speak, not you or your kids. Nothing was left but painfully, deafeningly silent. You didn’t want this for them, not one bit.But the deluge was here and there was nothing that could be done about it.

And when you finally pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, your son broke the silence. “…Is it true?”

Your stomach turned. “What?”

“What they said, about dad.” his voice cracked. “Did he cheat on you?”

You froze. In the rearview mirror, you could see the contortion on your son’s face. His jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle ticking, his fists curled in his lap like he was trying to hold himself together.

And your daughter Keiko, she was already looking at you, hot tears burning those furiously passionate eyes. It was as if she had already put the pieces together, even without you saying anything. As if they already both know what was going on, just by looking you in the eyes.

It was hard to look at your children at times, even when they were babies. It was hard to see the features of the man you loved, the man who hurt you, the man who had ruined you — in such innocent faces you had brought into this world. You knew Kento would say something different, he would say that the kids took after you more than him.

Yet you knew your children. Perhaps even better than he did. You had carried them in the depths of your body, endured the endless toil of raising them, and nearly died bringing them into the world. You knew them in ways he never could. And yet, they looked so much like him. Too much like him.

The memories were as vivid as if they had happened just yesterday. You remembered lying there on the hospital bed, blood pooling beneath you, the echoes of voices rising and falling in through the wide expanse of the room.

Remove it. No, don’t do it—she’ll die. Over and over again, a fevered haze of desperation. You understood what they meant. And in that moment, you wished they had done it. That they had let you go. That they had spared you from this suffering.

But they didn’t. You lived. And Kento was relieved. You knew that much.

Three pregnancies in twenty-five years. And yet, Kento had only been there for Keiko’s birth. He had wanted to be there, perhaps, but he couldn’t. Work had taken him out of the country.

It left you alone in that sterile hospital room, your five-year old daughter by your side, holding your hand with small, trembling fingers. And then the third, you were with your grown children, making sure you were alright as you sat there, finally losing the ability to bear the children.

Maybe that was why this was unbearable. You suffered quite a lot. Loving your children, loving your husband. This is why the weight of it threatens to crush you now. You held it in for so long. And you had lost all ability to let it stay here, dwelling contentment.

You wanted to break down, to tell the truth, to let the words spill free. But you couldn’t. You weren’t ready. You wanted to cling to the lie just a little longer. To lose yourself in the illusion, to drown in it, and never face reality.

God knows, you wanted to say no to them right at this moment. You wanted to tell them that it was all a fabrication, that their father, the man they had loved and looked up to their whole lives, was not the man the media was painting him out to be. He was not the person they had long loved for all their lives. Yet you wanted to protect them, the same way you always had. But you couldn’t.

Because the truth sat there like a bitter pill in your throat and you had already swallowed it once. You had long swallowed it and dealt with it. And that truth was crawling out of your throat, brutishly, wantonly, eagerly. You cannot keep it deep inside for much longer. You fixed the rear view mirror and finally met their eyes. You took a sharp breath.

“…Yes.” You finally say to them. “It’s true.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

The way their eyes surged with such devastation.

You didn’t want to ever see it again like that.

But god only knows that this will be all there is in their eyes.

Keiko’s face crumpled, like she had just been punched in the gut. “Oh my god…mom, you….”

Kenshin let out this strangled, bitter laugh — like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So it’s true, then. Those blind items from the past few years.” he muttered. “Dad’s a fucking cheater. A constant one at that.”

“Watch your mouth, Kenshin.” you tried to say — but your voice cracked. “You can’t just keep—”

“No, seriously, mom.” he scoffed, his voice laced with something ugly. “How long? Huh? How long has he been screwing around and doing this to you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “…I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie.” Keiko says, her voice cracking. “Just….tell us the truth mom.”

“I’m not lying,” you snapped, finally turning around in your seat to look at him. “I don’t know how long it’s been, okay? I found out years ago and—”

“Years?”

Kenshin’s face twisted at your slip up. It was like you had just physically slapped him across the face. Keiko gasped out loud, breathing out like she had no air in her lungs. You rested your head on the leatherbound headrest, closing your eyes.

“You mean he’s been doing this since we were kids?”

Keiko covered her mouth with her hand, tears already falling as she looked out the window, trying to keep a grip on reality. “Oh my god, what…..” she whispered again. “Mom, why didn’t you leave him? Why didn’t you tell us?”

And that…. that was the question that cut through you the deepest. Why hadn’t you left him? Why did you stay when you found that first message? Why did you stay when he came home smelling like perfume that wasn’t yours?

Why did you stay when you’d hear him in the bathroom, late at night, whispering to someone who wasn’t you? Why did you stay when every kiss, every touch, every moment of intimacy started to feel manufactured?

Yet, you already knew the answer.

And your kids probably also knew.

Because you still loved the bastard.

Even now, even after everything — you still loved Nanami Kento. How can you just erase such a love that has festered for almost all of your life in an instant? How do you undo every bit of your emotions and your laughter and your memories in that moment of grief?

As much as you hated him for what he did, you still loved him. Even if it was bitterly so, you loved him. It was the two sides of the same coin. Love and hatred, bleeding into one another until you couldn’t tell them apart.

They’ve become the same thing to you over time. They’ve become inseparable, untainted and dirty all at once. And the thought of walking away, of destroying your family, of breaking your kids' hearts — all of it just felt like an agony you weren’t sure you could bear.

“…I stayed because I loved him, you know that.” you finally whispered, tears spilling down your cheeks. “And because I thought… I thought it would get better. I thought if I loved him hard enough, if I forgave him, he’d come back to me. I thought……” Your voice cracked. “…I thought he still loved me the way he used to.”

Silence.

And then, your son let out the bitterest laugh you’d ever heard in your life.

Keiko narrowed her tearful face at her brother. “Kenshin, stop. Mom’s upset!”

“Well mom, congratulations.” he said hollowly, staring out the window. “Guess you were wrong about it all. Because if dad loved you, loved us, he wouldn’t have done this.”

His words cut deep through you. They hurt more than anything. Because you knew that was the truth. And you had been avoiding it for so long, that you were a fool. A girl was a foolish little child, but the woman is even more of a beautiful little fool, even more than a child, truly. Because when she continues to love a man who doesn’t love her truly, she is just never going to learn.

Later that night, your kids didn’t talk to Kento. Not once. They just refused to. When he got home from work, exhausted and carrying the same tension he always did, he expected the usual — a quiet dinner, maybe some small talk before you both retreated to your separate corners of the house.

Instead, your son walked right past him without a word. Your daughter didn’t even look at him.

You just stood in the kitchen, pretending to wash dishes like you hadn’t just destroyed your children’s entire worldview of the life they had known that morning.

Kento frowned, setting his keys down. “…Did something happen?”

You didn’t even turn around. “No.”

But your voice was hollow. Detached. And Kento could feel it. He was perceptive, so he knew. He knew that there was a shift, that there is a heavy weight, the unspoken heaviness that settled over the house like a death sentence.

When the kids had gone to bed and Kento finally pulled you aside, his voice strained “What’s going on?” he demanded softly. “Why won’t they talk to me?”

You smiled bitterly. “They know, Kento.”

You could sense that in that moment, his blood froze. “…What?”

You finally turned to face him and for the first time in years, you didn’t hide the devastation in your face. “Your cheatin’ heart, Kento.” you said quietly. “They know.”

Kento’s face was completely drained of color. “…How?”

You scoffed. “The paparazzi followed us all day and showed up at the cafe we go to, the one outside Tokyo Metro. They started asking questions and the kids….they just figured it out.”

Nanami Kento just stood there, all too pale like a sheet and all too silent like a devious saint. Like the weight of his own sins had finally come crashing down on him. And for the first time in twenty five years, you saw something in his caramel eyes you had never seen before.

Fear. Because now, it wasn’t just you who knew about his infidelity. It was his kids, the kids who viewed him for so long to be their beloved father, the man who could do no wrong in their eyes. And they wanted nothing to do with him.

YOU HAD DONE ALL YOU COULD, YOU HAD TRIED. You tried to do what you could to deescalate the situation burning into disaster in your once peaceful home. Your hands trembled as you set down the untouched cup of tea, its warmth doing nothing to ease the cold creeping into your bones. The air between you and Kento was thick with unspoken words, tension stretching like a wire on the verge of snapping.

Despite the suffocating ache in your chest, despite the bile that burned your throat every time you looked at him, despite the way your children couldn't even stand to be in the same room as their father. You wanted to do what you could to settle this properly.

“Kento.” you finally said, voice hoarse from too many nights spent crying in silence. “We can’t keep doing this.”

He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple as if you were just another problem on his never-ending list. “Then what do you suggest?” His tone was controlled, but you could hear the exhaustion beneath it.

You glanced toward the staircase, where you knew your children were hiding just out of sight, pretending not to hear. You couldn’t blame them. How could they bear to watch the man they once admired turn into someone they no longer recognized?

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice cracking. “But this... this isn’t working. We’re tearing everything apart.”

Kento’s gaze flickered toward the family portrait still hanging on the wall, the one taken before everything fell apart. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing at his lips. “You say that, but we both know the truth.”

Your fingers curled into fists on your lap. “And what truth is that?”

“That you’re never going to leave me.”

A shiver ran down your spine, not because his words were untrue—but because they were devastatingly accurate. He knew it all too well. No matter how unbearable things had become, no matter how deep the wounds ran, you couldn’t bring yourself to walk away. And that was exactly why you were both still stuck in this. A war neither of you had the strength to end.

The next few days were even more unbearable than the other days that had come to pass. Your son Kenshin didn’t even come down for breakfast, he refused to do so. Meanwhile Keiko, your daughter sat at the table, silently scrolling through her phone, pretending like her father didn’t exist.

Kento looked wrecked about all of it. He was pale, sleepless, disheveled. A far cry from the man who once carried the aura of effortless grace and unwavering composure on stage and on film, now looked like a ghost in his own home, a ghost no one wanted to interact with.

“…Good morning.” he tried to say to her.

Silence. “…Did you sleep well?”

Your daughter didn’t even glance up.

Kento looked desperate to have an interaction with your only daughter. He looked like a drowning man gasping for air. His hands were practically trembling as he tried to pour himself a cup of coffee, his voice cracking as he spoke.

“…I’m heading to the studio later. Filming should wrap early so maybe I can pick you up—”

“Dad, please stop.” your daughter interrupted, cold and bitter. “You don’t have to tell us where you’re going. We don’t care.”

Kento pursed his lips in a flat line. “.....I see.”

You saw it. The way his face crumpled, the way his jaw clenched like he was trying so hard not to break in front of his own daughter. And despite everything, despite the betrayal, despite the infidelity, despite the years of suffering — your heart still aches for him. So you did the only thing you could.

“…Honey, not right now.” you said softly, giving your daughter a pointed look. “Don’t be rude at the breakfast table.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” she laughed bitterly, snapping as she slammed her phone down on the table. “I’m being rude? To him?”

“Watch your tone—”

“No! No, I’m not watching my tone!” she spat. “You’re really just gonna sit here and pretend like everything’s fine? Like he didn’t cheat on you for years and years and that we’re all just gonna move on and are just supposed to have breakfast like normal?”

You flinched. “Keiko, look….”

“I don’t want you to keep making excuses for him, mom! Goddamn it!”

Kento’s breath hitched. “…Sweetheart, don’t scream at your mother—”

“Don’t call me that, you damn cheater.” she bit out, her voice shaking. “You don’t get to call me that. Not after what you did to Mom. Not after you lied to all of us for years—”

“I never—”

“Yes, you did!” she shouted, rising to her feet. “You cheated on her, Dad! Over and over again, and you let her suffer in silence, and you thought we wouldn’t find out! After all, you put her through? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Enough, stop. Please.” you finally snapped, your voice cracking under the weight of it all. “That’s enough, both of you.”

Your daughter turned on you, her face twisted in disbelief. “Are you seriously defending him right now, mom?”

“No, darling, I’m not.” you whispered, your voice hollow. “Believe me, I’m not. I’m just trying to keep this family from completely falling apart.”

Kento looked at you like you had just thrown him a lifeline. Despite it all, you were still to keep his relationship with your children amiable. Even now — after everything — you were still trying to hold everything together. Trying to keep your family intact. Trying to keep the peace. Trying to keep your kids from completely hating their father.

And you hated yourself for it.

He knew you hated yourself for it.

But you hated separation more.

That, you hate about yourself too.

“…I’m going to my room and pack. I can’t do this.” your daughter spat bitterly, grabbing her phone. “I’m going back to my apartment.”

And just like that, she was gone. The silence that followed was suffocating. Kento’s hands were trembling. His throat was visibly working, his face practically drained of color. And your son, he still hadn’t come downstairs. He probably wouldn’t. He would probably go back to his dorms tonight too. You already knew. Kento already knew.

Your heart clenched as you watched your daughter storm up the stairs, her hurried footsteps echoing through the house. You wanted to call her back, to say something, anything, that might make her stay. But what was left to say? You could feel her slipping away, just like everything else. The silence that followed was suffocating.

Kento exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “You shouldn’t have stopped her.”

You turned to him sharply, eyes flashing with something dangerously close to resentment. “Don’t.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m just saying—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Kento.” You swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in your throat. “I don’t want to hear anything from you right now.”

A flicker of something that crossed his face. You tried to name it. Regret, guilt, or maybe just exhaustion, but you couldn’t. After that, your husband didn’t argue. He only nodded, rubbing at his temple as if the weight of this entire mess sat squarely on his shoulders alone. As if you weren’t both drowning in it.

The sound of a suitcase zipping shut upstairs made you flinch. A part of you wanted to chase after her, to beg her to stay. But another part, the part that was just so damn tired, knew that maybe this was for the best for your children for now.

“I’ll drive her back, mom.” your son said quietly, standing near the doorway. You hadn’t even realized he was there. “....We’ll talk to you when we get back to Bunkyo.”

Your gaze softened. “You don’t have to.”

He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets, as he disappeared towards the steps of your massive stairway. “Yeah, I do. Please don’t worry about us, okay? Just give us space for now.”

You let out a slow, shuddering breath, your hands shaking as you rubbed at your face. “This isn’t how it was supposed to be.”

Kento sighed. “I know.”

You finally looked at him, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you?”

Because if he truly did, then why were you still here? Why were you still trying to stitch together something that had long since been torn apart? Why were you still afraid to let go? What do you seek to gain about staying here?

“…I’m sorry. I just…..” Kento finally choked out, his voice hoarse. “I’m so sorry.”

You hated how your body still responded to his pain. You hated how, even now, you could feel your heart ache for him, even after everything. But you do, you feel compassion for the man who had ruined you.

“…I know,” you finally whispered.

Kento swallowed hard, his voice cracking. “Do you… do you want me to leave?”

And that — that was the worst part. Because the answer was yes. You wanted him to leave. You wanted him out of your house, out of your life, out of the gaping wound he had carved into your chest. You wanted to be free of him, free of the suffocating burden of being the wife he had repeatedly betrayed.

But you couldn’t say it at all.

Because you still loved him.

And you hated yourself for it.

“…No.” you rasped, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Nanami Kento completely broke. He surged toward you, his hands clutching your face like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. Like you were the only thing keeping him from giving up and letting all the punishments come without hope.

“I’ll fix it.” he choked out, his voice wrecked with desperation. “I’ll fix everything. I swear to god, I’ll spend the rest of my life making this right. Just — please don’t give up on me. Please don’t leave me.”

You just stood there, embraced by this touch, unmoving as his heat continued to permeate your skin, the very skin you didn’t want him to burn even more. Still so empty, so hollow. Trying so hard not to collapse beneath the weight of it all. You stared at him for a good moment.

“…I already gave up on trying to let you fix things, Kento.” you whispered. “A long time ago. Because not even gold can fix these broken pieces and continue to be beautiful.”

You saw it in his eyes.

He knew those words to be true.

And he still wasn’t letting you go.

Kento’s grip on you tightened.

“No.” he croaked, his voice cracking with raw, desperate agony. “No, you didn’t. You didn’t give up on me. You wouldn’t still be here if you did.”

And fuck, you hated how his words still held power over you. You hated how he could still reach into the hollowed-out pit of your chest and stir something. Because he was right. You hadn’t left. You should have. But you didn’t.

“…I didn’t leave because of our kids.” you tell him almost too bitterly, your voice shaking. “Not because of you. Just because I still love you doesn’t mean I was willing to stay because of it. I stayed because you are still their father. That is all.”

Kento flinched. His face crumpled. His hands trembled as they cupped your face even closer to his, like he was desperately trying to ground himself in your presence. You tried to move away from him, but you knew you couldn’t.

You try and avoid his gaze instead, yet even in that you failed. He wanted to see you, all of you. In that brokenness, in that emptiness, in that hatred, in that toxic love. He wanted it all, until nothing was left.

“But you still love me.” he rasped, his voice raw. “I know you do.”

“…Don’t.” you choked, trying to pull away. You hated him for saying it out loud. “Don’t do this to me.”

But he wouldn’t let you, not now when this is the only time he could truly hold something so tangible of you. His hands tightened, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones like he was trying to memorize you. His breath was shallow, his face devastated.

“You do.” he whispered. “I can see it. Every day. You still look at me like you love me. You still stay—”

“Because I’m stupid, Kento!” you snapped, finally ripping yourself out of his grasp. “Because I’m a fucking idiot who doesn’t know how to walk away! You think that means anything?”

The look on his face, it absolutely destroyed you. Because for the first time — Nanami Kento really looked at you. Not like his wife. Not like the mother of his children. Not like the woman he had shared twenty years of his life with. But like a woman he had broken beyond repair.

“…I never stopped loving you, you know that.” he rasped, his voice wrecked. “Not once. Not even when I was being a piece of shit and — and sleeping with other women. I swear to god, baby, it was never because I didn’t love you. It was because I was drowning and I didn’t know how to—”

“Oh my god.” you laughed bitterly, actually laughing. “Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare make this about you, Kento. Don’t even….”

“I’m not.” he choked, his voice cracking. “I swear to god, I’m not. I just….I need you to understand. I was never looking for love. I was just….” his voice faltered, tears visibly burning his eyes.

“I was lonely, baby. You hated me. You didn’t touch me. You didn’t look at me like you loved me anymore. And I….I was so fucking weak. I was weak and I hurt you, and I hate myself every day for it—”

“Stop it. Not another word, you stupid fuck.” you spat, your voice shaking. “Stop talking.”

But he didn’t stop there.

“I love you, you know that.” he begged, his voice cracking. “I still love you. I never stopped. Please don’t let this be the end of us, baby. Please — please fight for us—”

And you lost it.

“Fight for us?” you screamed, your entire body shaking with rage. “What the fuck do you think I’ve been doing for the past twenty five fucking years, Kento? I fought for us when you left me alone with a newborn! Twice!"

You were so clear to his face now. "I nearly fucking died giving birth to your children. They nearly removed my uterus three times, including with the last miscarriage I had. And even with that, I was fucking alone!”

You stopped for a moment to try and steady yourself, but you were so exasperated. You gripped your hair, your face, your neck like you were possessed, like you had become a maddened woman who had lost all sense of reality. And then you screamed, and screamed. With the agony of a woman who has nothing left to give, nothing left to have.

“I could have been someone, Kento. I could have been more than someone’s fucking wife.” You started to say, breathless and anguished, hitching your breath at each word.

“I could have been a world famous chemist, saving someone’s life with my work. I could have been travelling around the world and enjoying my life. But no, I loved you too much. And I loved you so much, I fucking let myself be a footnote so you could have a fucking life!”

“Babe, please—”

“I fought for us when I had to pick myself up from postpartum depression alone! I fought for us when you cheated on me the first time — and the second time — and the third time! So don’t you dare stand here and ask me to keep fighting when I’ve been fighting alone for this fucking marriage for the past twenty five fucking years!”

Kento stood frozen, his mouth slightly open, his breathing ragged. His hands twitched at his sides like he wanted to reach for you, to pull you into his arms like he used to, back when love still felt like something tangible between you. But you weren’t that woman anymore. You weren’t the one who softened at his touch, who forgave with nothing more than a tired sigh and an aching heart. Not this time.

“You don’t get to beg now,” you seethed, voice still trembling. “You don’t get to cry now, Kento.”

The room felt too small, too suffocating, as if the weight of all the years, all the pain, all the silent suffering had condensed into this moment, crushing you from the inside out. Your nails dug into your scalp as you tried to steady yourself, but it was useless.

The rage, the grief, the betrayal—it was a storm that had been brewing for years, and now it was here, tearing through you without mercy. Kento took a hesitant step forward, his hand reaching for you, but you recoiled violently, like his touch would burn you alive.

“Don’t.” you spat, your voice raw. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

His shoulders slumped, his face crumpling with something akin to regret, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough to fix everything that had been broken. Not after everything. Not after all he had done to you.

“I—I know I failed you.” he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know I let you down. But I swear, I never wanted—”

“You never wanted what?” You laughed then, a hollow, broken sound that sent a chill through the room. “You never wanted to hurt me? To break me? To leave me alone while I bled, while I begged for you to just be there?”

He flinched like you had slapped him, but you weren’t done. Not even close.

“Do you know what it’s like, Kento?” you continued, voice trembling with emotion. “To cry alone in a hospital room after losing a baby we created? To be told I might never have another child while you were off doing god knows what in your movie sets? Do you know what it’s like to sit across from your husband at the dinner table, knowing he’s slept with someone else but still pretending like everything is fine—for the sake of your kids?”

You let out a sharp breath, shaking your head. “No. You don’t. Because you never had to. You had the privilege of being the one who could walk away whenever it got too hard. And I was the idiot who stayed.”

Nanami Kento paled, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. He couldn’t help but flinch, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t deny it. He couldn’t. Your vision blurred with tears, but you refused to let them fall. Not now. Not in front of him.

What could he say? What excuse could possibly justify the years of neglect, the betrayals, the loneliness he had forced upon you while expecting you to bear the weight of it all? Your chest heaved as you stared at him, your vision blurred with rage and grief.

Your fingers dug into your scalp, your nails pressing against your skin as if you were trying to physically hold yourself together. The room felt too small, the air too thick, like it was suffocating you over and over.

“You say you love me. Over and over.” you whispered, voice barely above a breath. “But love isn’t fucking leaving. Love isn’t lying. Love isn’t cheating. Love isn’t making me feel like I was never enough.”

You inhaled sharply, chest rising and falling with the force of your fury. “And I was enough, Kento. I was enough. You just never fucking saw it.”

Kento’s breath hitched, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I do see it, baby.” he murmured, his voice raw. “I see it now.”

You shook your head, a sad, broken smile tugging at your lips. “Too fucking late.”

The look in your face killed you. He saw that agony for the first time in your long marriage together. The mask had all but slipped off. Nothing was left to pretense now. He has to understand now, and he does. He looks like he does.

You had given him everything. Your body. Your youth. Your dream. Your career. Your life. And in return, he had given you nothing that had made you feel like this reality he had given you. Because with all those promises given and broken, all he had given you in the end was nothing but heartbreak.

“…I’m sorry.” he finally rasped, his voice shattered. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

And you just laughed. Bitterly. “Sorry doesn’t fix twenty years of betrayal, Kento. You’ve already killed me, long ago. You can’t fix what has already been slaughtered.”

“I know that.” he choked, his breath hitching. “I know it doesn’t. But please — please don’t leave me. Please don’t take our family away from me. I need you.”

You just broke down right in front of him then and there. This was the worst part. This outburst, this breakdown, this long awaited grief exploding right in front of him still means nothing at all. Because you still loved him.

You still loved him like you did when you were twenty and pregnant and terrified. You still loved him like you did when he kneeled beside you and begged you to apply to university. You still loved him like you did when he promised to give you a beautiful life before he destroyed it. And you hated yourself for it.

“…I’m not leaving, I already told you that.” you finally rasped, your voice hollow.

Kento’s entire body visibly crumpled with relief. He sagged forward, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as his entire body trembled. “Oh my god, thank god—”

You moved to the cabinet, trying to search for the cigarette. When you found it and took it, you could feel your hands shaking so badly that the flame flickered unsteadily, barely catching the end of the cigarette. You inhaled deeply, letting the acrid smoke burn your lungs, anything to distract you from the suffocating weight in your chest.

Kento watched you, still hunched over, his breath uneven, his hands gripping his knees like they were the only things holding him together. His body trembled, wracked with relief, but his relief was nothing compared to the exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders.

You had given him what he wanted, his dream.

Not love. Not forgiveness. But the simple fact that you were still here.

The cigarette bobbed between your lips as you exhaled, the smoke curling around you like ghosts of all the words you wanted to say but never would. You stared at him, your expression unreadable, and for the first time, Nanami Kento looked small.

He was so much smaller than the man you had once adored, the man who used to tower over you with quiet strength. Now, he was nothing more than a man drowning in the mess he made, clinging to you like you were a life raft in the middle of a raging sea. And maybe you were. Maybe that was the most tragic part of it all.

“You think this is relief, don’t you?” you murmured, watching the way his breath hitched at your words. “You think I’m staying because I still have hope for us.”

He lifted his head slightly, blinking at you with bloodshot eyes, as if he didn’t want to admit it but couldn’t deny it either. “I….I do.”

You took another drag of your cigarette, the tip glowing in the dim light of the kitchen. “But that’s not it, Kento. That’s not it at all.”

“Then why?” His voice was desperate, strained, like he was afraid to hear the answer.

You exhaled slowly, watching the smoke disappear into the air. “Because I don’t know how to leave. Not anymore……Isn’t that a tragedy?”

Silence. Perhaps with all the things you have said just now, it was the most honest thing you had said to him in years. Kento inhaled sharply, his hands gripping his knees even tighter, his knuckles turning white.

You could see the pain in his face, the way your words hit him like a physical blow. But he didn’t argue. He didn’t try to convince you otherwise. Because deep down, he knew it too. You weren’t staying out of love. You were staying because you had forgotten what life looked like without him.

YOU WILL NEVER GET USED TO THIS LIFE HE HAD FORCED ON YOU. The flashing lights had long since stopped making you flinch. The murmurs, the whispers, the hushed speculations that followed you wherever you went, those had become background noise. You were used to the weight of their stares, the scrutiny that came with your name, your existence.

But that didn’t mean you liked it. You had never wanted this. You had never asked to be someone the world felt entitled to watch, to judge, to pick apart piece by piece. Your name wasn’t just yours anymore, it was something the media used for headlines, something the public devoured like vultures picking at a fresh carcass.

And yet, this was your reality. This was the life you had been forced into, no matter how much you resented it. It didn’t matter if you stayed or if you left—your story would never truly be yours again. You would always be his wife, his scandal, his mistake. But perhaps that was where your power lay.

If the world insisted on keeping you in its grasp, then fine. You would let them have you, but only on your terms. Perhaps it was cruel, but Kento had given you this power the moment he destroyed you and your entire marriage in front of the world to see.

The moment he had made you a household name not for your accomplishments, but for your suffering and your grief, he had no other choice but to surrender. He had taken everything from you. Your peace, your privacy, your dignity and now, it was only fair that you took something in return.

His control.

So when the cameras flashed and reporters screamed your name, you stood taller. When the world speculated about the state of your marriage, you gave them only what you wanted them to see. When Nanami Kento stood beside you, silent and obedient, you made sure it was clear to everyone, he was the one following your lead now.

This was the price of his betrayal.

And he had no choice but to pay it.

That was your quid pro quo after all.

The award show was about to start and it was already damned and brutal, suffocating you whole. You were swallowed by all these smiling faces under the bright lights, overwhelmed by the cameras flashing as their loud voices asked you to pose.

Hundreds of people dressed in their finest, smiling like their lives were perfect.

Like nothing in this despotic life had fallen apart behind closed doors.

You were draped in a designer dress Kento’s stylist had picked for you. Something black, sleek, elegant, like you had asked. It was a beautiful dress, it looked well on you as it expressed the boldness of your assets, still unchanged from the moment Kento had introduced you to this world.

Yet, people whispered too well as they moved away from you. They think it was some sort of funeral dress, and in some ways they were right. You were mourning a death, you were mourning multiple, if you were being honest. Yet, you did not say a word. Instead, you smiled like your life depended on it.

On your arm was your husband, Nanami Kento, a veteran actor of thirty odd years, who was about to receive one of the highest honors of the night. And everyone was watching you. Because this was your first public appearance since the scandal broke.

You could feel it all coming down on you. The stares, the whispers, the flashing cameras catching every angle of your face. Your fingers curled around Kento’s arm, but it wasn’t out of affection. It was out of necessity. Because if you let go, you weren’t sure if your legs would carry you anymore.

Kento’s hand covered yours, his grip desperately tight. Like he knew — he fucking knew — you didn’t want to be here. But he asked you to come over and over again, even when you said no. It got to the point that he was begging on his knees as you stood before him.

“Please.” he’d whispered last night, his voice cracking. “I know you hate me. I know you don’t want to be seen with me, but please… please just come. Let them see that you’re still here. I can’t do this alone.”

Still, you had stood there, unmoving, arms crossed over your chest as you stared down at the man who had once sworn to protect you but had done nothing but destroy you. His hands gripped your waist like you were the only thing anchoring him, his forehead pressing against your stomach as he whispered broken apologies into the fabric of your shirt.

“I know I don’t deserve to ask this of you, baby.” he had murmured, voice hoarse from exhaustion, from guilt, from the weight of all the ways he had failed you. “But I—I need you.”

You had inhaled sharply, closing your eyes as the familiar ache in your chest grew heavier. “You need me?” The bitterness in your voice was sharp enough to cut. “Where was that need when I was begging you to come home? When I was drowning in loneliness, in grief, in everything you left me with?”

Kento had squeezed his eyes shut, his grip tightening as if he was afraid you would slip through his fingers. “I know.” he whispered. “I know, and I’ll never forgive myself for it. But please… just this once, please help me.”

And fuck, maybe you were still too weak to say no to him. You had wanted to say no. God, you had wanted to let him suffer, to let him face the mess he created on his own. But deep down, you knew the truth. So here you were. Standing beside him like the perfect wife.

And then you saw her.

Fushiguro Toji’s wife.

And she was staring back at you.

A very prominent and established veteran actress, someone who’s won award after award. Just like that husband of hers, who stood beside her. She was gorgeous, vivacious and vibrant. She was the kind of woman who naturally commanded the attention of a room.

Your husband worked with her a long while ago, well multiple times. The most prominent was that film they did in Paris, that film which encapsulated your marriage to bits. When you watched it the first time, you tried to imagine yourself as her, as that actress. And honestly, you cried. For a long while, you did.

But you know her more than that, you like to think. You knew her as someone who without a doubt had an affair with your husband for a long while. It was so obvious to you. She was bright as a starlight and she was incredible, everything you had been so long ago.

Perhaps that was what attracted your husband to her in the first place. She was an escape from the misery you were. She represented the spirit of the woman you used to be. You and her all the same, were the other woman.

You had already known and yet, she had come to you and told you. It was the first time you had ever found yourself in contact with her. She had messaged you, five years ago. Over text, and what she wrote was a one line apology.

“I’m sorry. I broke it off with him. It will never happen again.”

And you never forgot her because of that.

She was the only one who had ever apologized.

She was the only one who truly meant it.

So when her eyes finally caught yours across the room, you quickly felt it. The sharp, sudden guilt that flashed through her expression. Her lips parted like she wanted to say something to you but you didn’t give her the chance.

Instead, you smiled. You smiled, let go of Kento’s arm, not replying to Kento as he asked you where you were going. You merely walked straight toward her, not caring for anything else. And her face visibly crumpled at the sight of you getting closer.

“…I’m sorry, I am so…I am so sorry, Mrs. Kento.” she blurted, the second you were within earshot. Her voice cracked. “God…. I’m so sorry. I never….I never wanted to be a part of your misery. I swear. I didn’t know—”

And you just stared at her. You could feel Kento’s burning gaze from behind you. There was panic, desperation, guilt blending in his eyes. But you ignored him. Instead, you tilted your head slightly, your voice cold and unwavering.

“…It’s not your fault.”

The woman froze. “…What?”

The silence stretched between you like an open wound. It was obviously still raw, gaping, impossible to ignore. She didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. The way her breath hitched, the way her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides, the way her entire body seemed to shrink under the weight of your words. It was enough.

You knew that silence. You had lived in that silence. You had spent years drowning in it, in the unspoken guilt that was never yours to carry, in the suffocating weight of a love that had never been real to begin with.

“…Yeah.” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Same here.”

She exhaled sharply, like your words had knocked the air right out of her lungs. You could see the cracks forming in her carefully constructed composure, in the way her lips trembled, in the way she refused to look at her husband.

Fushiguro Toji—her wonderful husband, her loyal partner—was still laughing with Kento, pretending this wasn’t happening between the two of you. Still pretending he wasn’t the reason his wife was standing here, breaking apart in real-time.

You followed her gaze as it flickered towards her own husband, watched as her face twisted into something painful, something angry, something exhausted. And suddenly, you recognize yourself in her.

You knew what it was like to stand on that edge, to realize that the life you thought you had was nothing but an illusion. To realize that the man you had built your world around had done nothing but use you, lie to you, break you.

The only difference between you and her was simple.

You weren’t that woman anymore.

You had already been shattered.

You had already lived through the aftermath.

But her?

She was just beginning to fall apart.

And when her eyes finally met yours again, glossy with unshed tears, you did something you never thought you’d do. You reached out and took her hand. She stiffened at first, startled, but then slowly, her fingers curled around yours.

Because in this moment, in this mess of betrayal and grief, there was only one person who understood what she was feeling. And it was you. Only a miserable woman like you would understand what it was like to feel this misery.

Tears visibly welled in her eyes, and she opened her mouth like she wanted to say something — but she didn’t. Instead, she just stood there, swallowing her apology over and over again like it would fix the past.

But it wouldn’t. And so, instead of dragging this conversation out, you simply leaned in — your voice so low, so sharp, it cut her to the bone. “…Do you still love him?” you asked quietly.

And her face was completely crumpled.

Tears burned her eyes, and her bottom lip trembled.

Still, she opted to not say anything, she couldn’t.

She didn’t have to. Because you already knew.

“…Yeah….” you exhaled bitterly, pulling away. “I get it.”

And before she could say another word, you turned around and walked straight back to Kento, your head high, your smile poised. Like you were completely unaffected. But you weren’t. And when Kento grabbed your waist. You looked up to him.

His voice was low and frantic as he asked, “What did she say to you?”

You didn’t answer him.

You just smiled for the cameras.

And he didn’t force you anymore.

Instead, he smiled right beside you.

Because this was the life you chose to stay in. This is the life he chose to continue to live, even if there was nothing but bitterness left in it. This life is full of betrayal, broken promises, and a love that you couldn’t let go of, no matter how much it destroyed you.

The award show dragged on. You sat beside Kento, your fingers laced with his, as the ceremony went on like nothing had ever happened. Like you weren’t the wife of the man who humiliated you in front of the entire world. Like you hadn’t just spoken to one of the women he fucked. Like you weren’t suffocating under the weight of it all.

Kento wouldn’t stop looking at you. You could feel it, his gaze burning into the side of your face, his thumb nervously stroking the back of your hand, like he was trying to gauge if you were okay. Like he was praying you wouldn’t get up and walk out.

But you wouldn’t. You never did. And when they finally announced Kento’s name. They were honoring him with the Lifetime Achievement Award, for his influence in the industry after thirty years in the industry.

The entire room exploded in applause, like he wasn’t the current eye of criticism and controversy. You stood up with him, as you always did and you clapped. You continued to smile for the cameras like the perfect wife.

Kento’s hand clutched yours, ever so desperately, so painfully tight like he was terrified of letting you go. And the moment he turned to you, full of emotion as he memorized your face. He could feel himself shaking, his voice cracking.

“I love you, baby.” he whispered, his eyes wild with emotion. “I mean that. I know I don’t deserve you. But I love you. Please believe me.”

And you smiled. The same cold, practiced smile you’d been perfecting for the last decade. “…Go get your award, Kento.”

And you swore for a brief, fleeting moment, you just watched how his face shattered at your words, full of utter devastation. But then the cameras were on him, and he had no choice but to let you go. So he did.

You watched him walk up the stage. Watched as the applause roared, watched as he smiled for the cameras, watched as they played a heartfelt montage of his three-decade career. And somewhere in the middle of it, you saw her once again.

Fushiguro Toji’s wife. No, no, she was more than that. She was herself an actress. You corrected it in your head. You didn’t want to treat her as just his wife. You shouldn’t treat her the way the rest of the world had treated you.

She was seated in the same row, just across from you. And she wasn’t watching Kento. She was watching you. Her eyes were still wet. Her face still crumpled with guilt after all this time, after you had already made peace with ehr. And when your gazes met — she mouthed it again.

“I’m sorry.”

And you didn’t respond. Because what was the point? She wasn’t the one you were married to. She wasn’t the one who destroyed you. She wasn’t the one who kissed you every morning and fucked other women at night.

Nanami Kento was.

And when his speech finally started, you couldn’t even hear it. His voice which was once so warm and electrifying was now just white noise to you. But then you caught the tail end of it, which you could hardly care for.

“…And lastly, to end this speech.” Kento’s voice cracked. “I… I need to thank my wife.”

The cameras immediately cut to you And you smiled for the camera, almost like an actress yourself. God, you smiled so beautifully. Like you weren’t dying inside.

“I know I’ve thanked my kids but this woman, right in front of you all, she’s the reason I’m here today.” Kento’s voice trembled. “Nearly twenty five years ago, she gave up her entire life for me. She put her dreams on hold, sacrificed her future, and stayed by my side, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

His eyes burned as he looked right at you. “I caused her quite a lot of grief, with how long I was working and going on so many work trips over the years. She had to take care of everything, take care of our children, and me. And every single day… she still chooses to stay and continue to be the best of wives and the best of women.”

The crowd awed.

That had irked you.

But you still smiled.

Kento’s voice cracked. “I don’t deserve her. I never did. But she’s the love of my life. And for as long as she’ll have me… I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to her.”

The applause was thunderous. People around you stood. Clapped. Smiled. Because how beautiful this was. A broken marriage, no, the media’s framing it to be a tough road in the marriage, courtesy of Kento’s PR team.

Somehow it’s working. He was standing before everyone else, a man still fighting to earn his wife’s love back. The cameras stayed on you longer than they should’ve, capturing the delicate tremble of your lips, the soft glassiness of your eyes.

Because they thought you were emotional.

But you weren’t, you really were not.

You were fucking numb, to all of it.

And the second Kento stepped off the stage, the award clutched tightly in his hands, he went straight to you. Dropped to his knees in front of you, in front of the entire goddamn audience, and clutched your waist like a dying man.

“I love you, so so much.” he choked, his voice desperate. “I mean it. I swear to god, I mean it.”

You just smiled. “…You did great, baby.” you whispered softly.

Then you leaned down, kissed his forehead, and smiled for the cameras again. Because what else were you supposed to do? Expose him in front of millions of people? Walk out and confirm the rumors? Ruin the perfect facade he so carefully crafted for himself?

No. You did what you always did. You smiled. Stayed. Supported him. Because you were too far gone to leave. Because you wanted him to be eaten by that guilt. You wanted him to suffer. You wanted the world to know you loved him and how you were good, you were far too good for him. That you deserve so much better than him.

And Kento fucking knew it.

So when the show finally ended and you were walking hand-in-hand toward the exit — he kept glancing at you, like you were the only one in his world. Kept searching your face, like he was hoping for something. Forgiveness, maybe.

But you didn’t give it to him. That would be too easy. That would be too perfect. You didn’t want to give it and he knew that. Still, that was just how it was. You will remain married, he will remain miserable. So long as he has you by his side, so long as he can still be your husband.

And when you finally got in the car, the silence thick and suffocating, your husband Kento completely broke. He looked like he was losing it, feeling overwhelmed by everything that happened. Most especially because of her.

“…What did she say to you?” he asked hoarsely. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “Toji’s wife. What did she say?”

You laughed. Actually laughed. “She said she was sorry.”

Kento’s jaw clenched. “For what?”

Your smile was cold. “For being a part of my misery.”

Silence.

Kento’s breathing visibly picked up. “…And what did you say?”

That was when you finally turned to him, your voice low, cold, dead. “I told her it wasn’t her fault,. you whispered. “I told her it was yours. It was her husband’s fault.”

Kento looked like you stabbed him in the throat. His knuckles cracked around the steering wheel, his throat working on nothing. “…Baby, please don’t—”

“Don’t what?” you laughed bitterly. “Don’t tell the truth? Don’t say that you’re the reason I lost everything? That he’s the reason she lost everything?”

Kento completely broke. “Baby…..”

“No, no, you shut up.” you snapped, tears burning your throat. “You don’t get to tell me to stop. You don’t get to act like your little speech on stage fixes anything. You broke me, Kento. You fucking broke me. And the worst part? I’m still here.” Your voice cracked. “I’m still here. I never left. I’m too weak. Because I’m a fool.”

The silence in the car was suffocating.

Kento didn’t speak.

You didn’t either.

Maybe that was for the best.

IT WAS ABOUT AN HOUR WHEN YOU GET TO THE AFTER PARTY VENUE. When you and Kento got out of the car, you were greeted with a warm welcome from the media, who continued to ask both of you for poses and pictures.

The flashing lights were blinding, the roar of the media an unrelenting tide of questions, camera shutters, and eager voices calling out your name.

"Over here!"

"You look stunning tonight!"

"Is it true you and Kento are working things out?"

"Can we get a shot of you both together?"

You plastered on a practiced smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach your eyes, and let them have their pictures. Kento, ever the professional, played his part seamlessly, still posing, signing autographs, offering polite nods and charming remarks while his hand remained firmly at the small of your back. His touch was warm, steady, familiar.

You hated it.

When it was finally time to go inside, you barely muttered a farewell to the crowd before stepping into the grand venue, the heavy doors closing behind you like a seal trapping you in a world you wanted no part of.

The afterparty was an explosion of extravagance. A crystal chandelier dripped from the ceiling like frozen diamonds, casting a golden glow over the room. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls overlooked the glittering Tokyo skyline, a breathtaking view wasted on you.

Champagne flowed like water, clinking in the hands of celebrities who moved with an air of effortless luxury. The music pulsed, a deep bass vibrating through the very foundation of the building, weaving through the sound of laughter and conversation.

It was a world you had long grown accustomed to. And yet, you had never felt more out of place. You could barely register the greetings thrown your way, barely mustered the energy to return the air kisses and polite pleasantries. Your smile was mechanical, your laughter nonexistent.

Kento kept his hand at the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd as if you were still the couple everyone thought you were. As if nothing had changed. As if you weren’t suffocating in the very life he had built for you.

And that was the worst part, because nothing had changed. You were still here. Still standing beside him. Still pretending. Your throat tightened as you caught sight of the countless eyes on you. Some admiring, some curious, some scrutinizing, as if they could peel back the layers of your marriage with just a glance.

You inhaled deeply, trying to keep yourself from unraveling.

You just wanted to go home.

Kento turned to you, his face still shattered. “…Please don’t go far, baby.” His voice cracked. “Stay close to me tonight. Please.”

You didn’t even look at him. “…I’ll do what I want, Kento.”

But then you heard it.

“…She’s even prettier in person, isn’t she?” someone murmured. “Jesus, even with her age, she looks so good!”

“Oh my god, that’s her, isn’t it? Nanami Kento’s wife?”

“She still stayed after everything? Jesus.”

Your throat closed.

“…I’d leave him. No fucking way I’d stick around after that.”

Your hands shook.

“Poor thing. You can see the misery on her face.”

That was when you broke.

You turned sharply to Kento, your voice tight. “I need a minute.”

“Baby, please don’t—”

“I need a minute, Kento.”

And you walked off.

You weren’t even sure where you were going. And you didn’t care. All you needed was some fresh air right this instant.You needed to be somewhere that wasn’t suffocated by pitying eyes. You eventually found your way to a quiet balcony and you were two seconds away from crying again.

“…Hello?”

Your head snapped up.

And there he was.

Gojo Satoru.

One of the successful, most in-demand actors in the industry. Tall. Devastatingly handsome. A smile so sharp it could cut glass. You’d seen his face plastered across billboards, heard his name endlessly repeated on award circuits — but you’d never met him in person. You haven’t been introduced to him by Kento.

“…Yes?” you managed, still dazed.

“Sorry, I just—” He smirked as he gave you a once-over, like he was memorizing you. “I recognized you. And I figured it’d be rude not to say hello.”

You blinked. “You… recognized me?”

His smile widened. “Of course. You’re [last name] [name], aren’t you? And also Nanami Kento’s wife?” His head tilted, his voice dropping into something softer. “But you know — I’ve actually known about you long before the scandal.”

Your stomach turned. “…What?”

Gojo’s gaze burned into you. “You went to Tokyo University, right? Studied chemistry?”

Your blood ran cold. “…How do you know that?”

The blue eyed man merely smiled at you. It was almost one which pretended to not be sly. And all at once genuine in its amusement. Like he was in on something you weren’t.You blinked at his reaction, as though you were trying to make sure it wasn’t just a haze of the moment.

“…I have my sources.” He tells you, lowering his glasses, meeting his bright eyes. “Well, I doubt that matters, no?”

You stared. “I should like to hope it does, Mr. Gojo.”

“Oh, please, don’t call me Mr. Gojo. That’s my father! And I don't like that! Call me casually instead, like Satoru–kun or something!” He waves his hand at you, laughing. “And don’t worry. It’s not like I’m a stalker or anything.”

“Isn’t that what a stalker would say…..Satoru–kun?” You say, your eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. “This feels unreal.”

He chuckled. “I just… heard a lot about you. Back then. Everyone did.”

Your stomach tightened. “…Why?”

All of a sudden, Gojo Satoru’s face shifted at your question. Just a little, as though he was a little sad. As though, he was upset that you would ask that question. All the sudden, he was carefully choosing his next words, still looking at you.

“…Because you were brilliant.” His voice was quieter now, less playful. “Top of your class. Always ahead in labs, in every recital, every presentation. Polished and precise. No one could keep up.”

“That’s—”

“Everyone said you were gonna do something big in chemistry. Something revolutionary.” His eyes burned. “And then you became his stay at home wife, mother of his children. And you disappeared.”

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. For a moment, the party, the music, the laughter. All of it had gone and faded into static. The weight of Gojo Satoru’s words settled heavily on your chest, pressing down like an invisible force, one you had spent years trying to ignore.

And yet, here it was.

Here he was.

Dragging it all back to the surface. Your fingers curled at your sides as you studied him, trying to gauge his expression. He wasn’t mocking you. If anything, there was something almost… regretful in his gaze, something unbearably knowing.

You licked your lips, voice barely above a whisper. “…And what did they say after that?”

Satoru tilted his head slightly, a wry, almost sad smile tugging at his lips. “Nothing that matters.”

“Everything else matters.”

“It doesn’t if it’s not praising the woman you are.” He says to you, smiling wider. “You deserve better than that, don’t you, [last name]-san.”

Your breath hitched. Gojo Satoru stood before you, watching you with an intensity that made your chest feel too tight, like he could see right through you. Like he wasn’t just looking at the woman you were now, but the woman you used to be. The woman you were supposed to have become.

Your fingers twitched at your sides, nails digging into your palm. Everything else matters. That was what you had told him. That was what you had always believed. Because even the whispers, the pitying murmurs of what a waste and she had so much potential.

They mattered too. They had cut into you like tiny, invisible blades over the years, leaving scars that no one could see. And now, here was Gojo Satoru, brushing them off like they were nothing. Like the only thing that should matter was you.

Your mouth felt dry. “That’s easy for you to say.”

He let out a small chuckle, but it was humorless. “Yeah. It is.” His voice was quieter now, but no less firm. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. I never am.”

You blinked, searching his face for something. For mockery, pity, some sign that this was just another conversation to him. But all you saw was sincerity. A quiet, unwavering belief in his own words. A belief in you.

You didn’t know what to do with that.

So you looked away. “Well… It doesn’t change anything.”

Satoru hummed, tilting his head. “Maybe not.”

“But–”

Then, after a pause, he added, “But it should.”

You swallowed, a bitter taste lingering at the back of your throat. “What do you mean by that?”

“It means exactly what it does. It should change.”

"It should?" you echoed, forcing out a dry laugh. "What exactly should it change, Satoru–kun?"

His bright eyes flickered, studying you carefully. “You tell me.”

Your jaw clenched. You didn’t have an answer. Or rather, you did. Perhaps you just didn’t want to say it out loud. That maybe, for the first time in years, you were realizing how much you had truly actually lost.

That maybe, for the first time in years, you were questioning if it was all worth it. Your silence stretched between you like a fragile thread, tension humming in the air. And then, as if sensing your reluctance, Satoru leaned in slightly, lowering his voice.

"You could still change things, you know." he murmured, his tone almost coaxing. "You don’t have to stay where you are just because it’s where you ended up."

Your stomach twisted. You hated how much his words affected you. You hated how a part of you—some deep, hidden part you had spent years ignoring, wanted to truly believe him. But reality had a way of crushing dreams before they could even take shape.

"You don’t understand at all." you muttered, shaking your head. "It’s not that simple."

Satoru clicked his tongue, exhaling sharply through his nose. "It is, though." he said, unwavering. "You just don’t want to believe it."

His words settled over you like a heavy weight, pressing down on something you weren’t ready to confront. And so, like always, you pushed it away. You didn’t want to think about it. Because if you do, if you take it seriously — what would that do? What would you do?

"You’re awfully invested in my life for someone I just met, Satoru–kun." you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Satoru smirked, but there was something unreadable in his gaze. “Like I said, I heard a lot about you.” He paused. “And maybe I just don’t like seeing something brilliant go to waste.”

Your breath hitched again, but this time, you didn’t let him see it. Instead, you forced a smirk onto your lips, tilting your head slightly. "Sounds a lot like pity, Satoru-kun."

His smirk widened, but his eyes burned. "Not at all, [last name]-san." he murmured. "It's not a pity party. I would never do that to you.”

You raised a brow at him. “Oh? And what is it truly?”

“It's frustration."

You felt your pulse quicken. "Frustration?"

Satoru leaned in, his voice dropping just above a whisper. “It’s only right, no?”

“And you feel that for me, more than I do?”

"Yeah." he said, and for the first time, there was no teasing, no playfulness in his tone. Just raw, unfiltered honesty. “I have a big heart for it, you know?”

You snicker. “And why is that?”

"Because the woman they all used to talk about, a trailblazer of a woman, someone they thought would revolutionize everything, the woman who was going to change the world is still standing right in front of me. And she doesn’t even realize it."

You inhaled sharply. And just like that, the fragile wall you had built around yourself cracked. Maybe just a little. You wanted to laugh. Or maybe scream. Or maybe both. Because for the first time in years, in decades, someone had looked at you and seen more than just a wife, a mother, a woman standing in the shadow of her husband’s legacy.

Gojo Satoru saw you.

He saw the truth of you.

He saw nothing but you.

Not as you were now. Not the exhausted, bitter, drained of everything you once held dear. But as you had been. As you could be. And you hated that. Hated the way his words dug under your skin, the way they cracked open a part of you that you had buried so deep you had convinced yourself it didn’t exist anymore.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head, shoving down the emotion clawing at your chest. "That woman is gone, Satoru–kun." you muttered, voice hollow. “She’s not here anymore.”

But he only tilted his head, a small, knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "Is she?"

You swallowed, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "Yeah, I think so." you whispered. "I think she is."

Satoru studied you for a long moment, then hummed softly, like he didn’t quite believe you. Like he was waiting for you to prove yourself wrong. Before you could say anything else, a voice called your name from across the room.

Your husband Kento.

You stiffened, the moment shattering instantly as reality came crashing back in. Gojo Satoru saw the way your expression closed off, how your shoulders tensed as you turned toward your husband. How you were suddenly back in that gilded cage.

And he hated it.

But he didn’t say anything.

He really shouldn’t.

Even if he wants to.

He only smiled, stepping back, giving you space. “Well…..” he murmured, his tone lighter now, but no less sharp. “It was nice seeing you again.”

You hesitated. Then, before you could stop yourself, you asked, "Again?"

Satoru’s smirk widened slightly, and there was something unreadable in his gaze.

“Of course.” His voice was almost teasing, but something about it sent a shiver down your spine. "You just don’t remember yet."

“Shouldn’t you make me remember this?”

He laughs for a moment, heartily so. “But where would be the fun in that, [last name]-san?”

“Satoru–kun—”

“Spoilers!” He says to you, smiling brightly. “See you around, [last name]-san. Say greetings to your husband for me.”

And with that, he turned, disappearing into the crowd, leaving you standing there. With your heart pounding, mind racing, a strange sense of unease settling in your chest.Your fingers curled into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms.

"Again?" The word echoed in your mind, unsettling and insistent.

You didn’t remember ever meeting Gojo Satoru before tonight. You would have remembered. How could you not? He wasn’t the kind of man who blended into the background. He wasn’t the kind of man anyone forgot. And yet, he spoke with certainty. Like he knew you. Like he had always known you.

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably. Before you could even begin to process it, Kento’s hand was on your arm, his touch firm, grounding—possessive. “What were you two talking about? What did Gojo say?” His voice was low, casual to anyone who might be listening, but you heard the tightness beneath it.

You turned to him, meeting his gaze. “Nothing important.” you murmured.

And maybe that was a lie. Or maybe it wasn’t. Your husband Kento studied you, his caramel eyes searching, but whatever he was looking for, he didn’t find it. He smells like alcohol, you think. You were just gone for a little while. But it seems he’s already drunk.

“I see.” he finally said, his grip loosening just slightly. “Come on. We have people to talk to.”

You let him guide you forward, through the glittering crowd of Tokyo’s most elite, through the flashing lights and murmuring voices. You played your part, smiling when necessary, nodding politely, keeping your posture perfect.

But your mind was elsewhere.

Because even as you moved through the party, even as Nanami Kento introduced you to people whose names you barely caught, even as you answered questions with the same rehearsed ease you had perfected over the years.

You could still feel Gojo Satoru’s gaze on you. Like he was still watching you like a hawk. Like he knew something you didn’t. And it made your skin crawl. You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to focus. This wasn’t the time to entertain strange riddles or cryptic men with piercing blue eyes. This was your life. This was the reality you had chosen.

So why did it feel like, for the first time, you weren’t sure if you had chosen correctly?

THE AFTERPARTY WAS GOING TO LAST FOR A WHILE, BUT THEY’RE NOT STAYING. There were still work schedules in the morning, after all. The night seemed to just stretch on forever, like this would never come to an end.

Gojo Satoru watched the city still alive with distant laughter and the soft hum of passing cars, smoke against his lips and his hands on his pockets. Standing beside him was Geto Suguru, way too exhausted about having to socialize with people than he was with presenting the main awards tonight.

The afterparty had been far too suffocating for their liking, it’s really not their type of scene. Even with their reputation, everything about the awards afterparty just didn’t seem to vibe with them at all. There were too many people, too many flashing lights, too much performance. Out here, in the cool air, it was quieter. More honest.

Suguru flicked the ash from his cigarette, his sharp gaze never leaving Satoru. He knew that look on his friend’s face all too well. It was troublesome, not the type of thing that Satoru just easily lets slip, given his ability to mask his truest of emotions very well.

“You disappeared for a while, you know that? Your manager was asking about where you were.” he said, voice casual but laced with curiosity. “Where did you end up, anyway?”

Satoru took his time answering. He leaned back against the sleek black car behind him, his frame relaxed, but there was something calculated in the way he dragged out the moment, taking a slow inhale from his cigarette before finally exhaling. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“I saw her. She was here tonight.”

Suguru’s brows lifted slightly. His fingers stilled mid-motion, cigarette hovering near his lips. “…Her?”

Satoru’s smirk widened. “Her.”

Suguru exhaled through his nose, shoulders tensing just slightly. “Don’t tell me—”

“What?” Satoru cut him off smoothly, feigning innocence. “I like keeping tabs on her.”

Suguru let out a slow, measured breath, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was already exhausted by the conversation. “Satoru….”

The blue eyed man raised a brow. “What?”

“Satoru, you shouldn’t meddle too much. Especially with what you know she’s dealing with, privately and publicly.” he said, his voice tinged with exasperation. “Let her realize on her own.”

Satoru scoffed, rolling his eyes as he took another drag. “I waited long enough.”

“And what if she never does?” Suguru’s voice was quieter now, edged with something resembling a warning.

For a split second, Gojo Satoru didn’t answer. He simply stared at the glowing ember of his cigarette, watching it burn down, watching as the smoke curled into the cold air, twisting into nothing. Then, he jovially chuckled back at his friend.

“Then I’ll just have to remind her.”

Suguru closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head. “You’re insane.”

Gojo Satoru exhaled, his expression unreadable behind the haze of smoke.

He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t upset. He was sure of all of this.

He had never been more sure about anything in his life than her.

“No,” he murmured, his voice slow, deliberate. “I’m just a devoted man.”

And the worst part?

Geto Suguru knew he meant it.

That’s what’s worrying him.

Suguru didn’t respond right away. Instead, he took another slow drag from his cigarette, watching the way the smoke curled up into the night sky, dissipating into the city lights. He knew better than to argue with Satoru when he got like this, when his mind was set on something, when he wore that smug yet unsettlingly determined expression.

Still, it didn’t stop the uneasy feeling twisting in his gut.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, aren’t you?” Suguru finally muttered, flicking the ash off his cigarette.

Satoru grinned, tilting his head slightly. “Isn’t that what makes it fun?”

Suguru shot him a dry look. “For you, maybe. For her? Not so much.”

At that, Gojo Satoru’s expression flickered. It was barely noticeable, just a fraction of a second where his smirk wavered, something unreadable flashing in his eyes. Then, just as quickly, it was gone.

“She’s not stupid, Suguru. She’s the smartest person I know.” he said, voice softer now, but still laced with confidence. “She’ll figure it out eventually.”

Suguru sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “And if she doesn’t?”

Satoru took another drag, exhaling as he leaned back against the car. He looked up at the sky, watching the stars barely visible past the city lights. “…Then I’ll wait a little longer.”

Suguru shook his head, muttering something under his breath. “You’re unbelievable.”

Satoru chuckled. “No, I’m just patient. And a patient man always wins, no?”

There was a brief silence between them. The distant sounds of Tokyo buzzed in the background. There was the occasional honk of a car, the occasional muffled bass of music from the afterparty, the distantly quiet chatter of passing strangers.

Then, Geto Suguru spoke again, voice low. “You really think you’ll succeed with this?”

Satoru didn’t answer right away. He stared at the cigarette between his fingers, watching the ember slowly burn down, watching as the ashes crumbled and fell. He smiles at his friend, warmth all over his face. He only gets like this when he’s thinking of you. At least, that’s what Geto thinks.

“…She knew of me once.” He says almost too wistfully, almost to wishful-thinking. “She will again, no doubt.”

Suguru frowned, but Satoru wasn’t looking at him anymore. He was lost in thought, his expression unreadable. And for the first time that night, Geto Suguru wondered—was this really about winning? Or was this about something else entirely?

The purple eyed man studied his friend for a long moment, cigarette dangling between his fingers. Gojo Satoru’s cryptic words, the unwavering certainty in his tone—it was starting to make sense now.

“You’re really not going to give up, huh?” Suguru exhaled, shaking his head.

Satoru just grinned, tapping the ash off his cigarette. “What can I say? I’ve got persistence. Lived with that all my life, hm?”

Suguru hummed, eyeing him. “And where did all this persistence even come from?” He narrowed his gaze slightly. “How the hell did you even meet her?”

At that, Satoru’s grin widened. It wasn’t his usual type of smug, teasing one, but something quieter, almost reminiscent. His fingers toyed with the cigarette, rolling it between them as if considering his answer. Then, he simply chuckled.

“Spoilers.” he murmured.

Suguru let out an unimpressed sigh. “You’re insufferable.”

“Hey, patience is a virtue, Geto Suguru.” Satoru smirked, tapping a finger to his temple. “You’ll find out when you’re meant to.”

“Or, you could just tell me now and save me the headache.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

Suguru shot him a deadpan look before exhaling another cloud of smoke. “So, in other words, you’re full of shit.”

Satoru only laughed. “That, and a deep, undying devotion. ‘specially if you love someone.”

Suguru rolled his eyes. “If this turns into a full-blown love story, I’m out.”

Gojo Satoru flicked his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out with his shoe before shoving his hands in his pockets. He turned his gaze toward the night sky again, the city’s glow reflecting in his pale blue eyes.

“Who said it wasn’t one already?” he murmured.

Geto Suguru didn’t have a response for that. And when their managers’ cars finally pulled up, he realized that maybe Satoru really had been waiting long enough. And just maybe, he’ll finally win in the end.

Well, once you realize that you deserve something better than Nanami Kento.

433 notes · View notes

philosians · 3 months ago

Text

little things | sylus.

✧. Sylus making your favorite drink and breakfast before he heads to bed, because you’re waking up and getting ready to head to work. Whether it be coffee or tea or matcha, he’ll make it. He does this regardless of how tired he is, especially after a business deal (or one gone wrong), because that routine he craves is also a reminder that you’re in his life and he gets to do domestic things like this when he comes home.

✧. Sylus who dries your hair after you shower because you’re too tired to. If you’re tired from work, he’ll take the towel and dry it before grabbing the hairdryer. Sometimes it’s a longer process than others, sometimes it’s not. What’s consistent with it though is that every time you end up falling asleep on him while he’s doing it.

✧. Sylus, who usually asks for his chef to do things, gradually transitions to using his kitchen himself because he finds enjoyment in cooking. More importantly—cooking with you. He finds himself indulging in cooking and baking, too. He finds himself filling with a bit of pride whenever you sink your teeth into one of the cupcakes he’s made and watches your eyes roll back in bliss from the sweet treat. And he can’t help but laugh under his breath at the icing all over your face once after you shoved the whole cupcake in your mouth when you thought he wasn’t looking.

✧. Sylus who ends up carrying your groceries into your apartment every LI does this prove me wrong with one hand and not breaking a sweat whenever he comes over and catches you post-shop. It pisses you off because it takes you at least two trips and a victory-dessert afterward. He shrugs it off like it’s nothing, but when he sees you scoff about it, he can’t help his amusement.

“Sorry, kitten. I’ll try a little harder next time.”

“Don’t. That’ll make me more mad.”

He raises his brows, chuckling. “If you say so.”

✧. Sylus is the one that takes you shopping for the first time with his card because you told him you had no idea where to even start with his black card aside from your favorite food stores. His eyes soften as you hide your embarrassment from him. But when he gently grabs your chin and tells you he’d be more than happy to help you make a dent in his bank account, he finds his own heart filling at the sight of your excitement.

✧. When you’re sick, Sylus drops all his business deals for the next week, potentially two depending on how your immune system works against your sickness. He’s in your apartment at the kitchen making food and making sure you’re taking medicine. He’s helping you through the worst of it with a warm cloth on your forehead; using his muscle to gently lift you up on the bed enough to help you eat some soups and drink hot liquid to soothe your throat and incessant coughing so your eyes aren’t watering from the soreness.

Sylus, who frowns in the other room every time he hears your deep and sickly coughs that you find embarrassing waking you from your needed sleep, ends up mentally praying to whatever deity that’s watching over you to make you better faster. Because he hates it when you’re sick; he can do nothing but watch as you teeter between health and illness, and he hates it.

When you’re better, he sees your teasing smile as you joke about how much he cares about you and him taking care of you over the last several days.

But it’s you who’s caught off-guard by him as he places a chaste kiss atop your head and says in the softest voice you’ve heard.

“Now why wouldn’t I take care of my most prized treasure?”

a/n: dusting off my ol’ writing chops hehe! I might do some with the other boys as well. feel free to send in ideas to my inbox! all LIs are welcome!

#༄ kasswrites.#sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x y/n #sylus x mc #sylus qin #sylus fluff #l&ds sylus #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #divider belongs to @enchanthings

456 notes · View notes

lustlovehart · 4 months ago

Note

Might've sent this already but I saw it in my notes while looking for something, so just ignore if you've already seen it.

Can you imagine the reader getting sick while they're with the monsters? I can imagine Riddle and Cater being utterly helpless trying to get to Trey, Ace or Deuce as soon as they realize it. Oh after getting us the proper care I can imagine Riddle inch his spectral hand close to our forehead to cool even a bit of our fever. I don't know how zombies work that much but I'm all for pathetic boys so I can imagine their limbs coming off while trying to carry us inside if they couldn't find Trey immediately.

Out of Octavinelle boys the only one who'd have much knowledge about humans would be Azul and if he is out to get whatever plants/medicine necessary in his limited human form, tweels would be a disaster let's be honest they don't see sick things in the sea cuz those creatures usually die so quickly from the harsh environment so they are out of their element, their cold skin might help with fever but too much would make it even worse. I can see Floyd trying to squeeze us to make it better but after seeing it made us nauseous he just stops. Jade is trying to remember his land facts with a serious face all the while.

Sickness Kills, Sickness no more

Another adorable idea!! I really don’t know what else to add on it as I could really see what you said about how they react!!! (≧◡≦) ♡. If it’s a simple cold, i’m sure you could just tough it out and they would never notice. Buut, if it’s genuinely something detrimental to your health, they begin to notice and panic. I thought this was cute and wrote something up! I really wanted to write Chenya in this post, but after those few Chenya asks in the past, current;t struggling on what to make him😭 Will it be kitsune or nekomata, a struggle indeed 😞

CW: (Heavy) Obsession, Jealousy, Rook is being a weirdo, Reader Has a high fever, They want to turn you into a monster too, They change your clothes for you, Implied/Wanting Murder and Actual murder (Fellow, Neige and Skully)

Featuring: Heartslaybul, Savanaclaw (Jack mentioned), Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Idia, Diasmonia, Rollo, Fellow, Skully, Neige

Heartslaybul might be the best location to fall ill actually! As all of them are formerly human, unlike the others. But… that just aids them in their guilt so it might have backfired for them. Riddles' experience as a Doctor has him feeling the most responsible for your well-being. How utterly careless… he let you get sick. What would his mother think of him? What will you think of him?

Ace and Deuce are practically rushing around to grab whatever Riddle orders for your health. When they find themself not fetching stuff and standing by your side, Ace is cursing you to stay alive, even without magic, he’ll find a way. Deuce is placing his forehead on yours, hoping his cool (dead) skin will calm down that fever. When your warmth reminds him of his failures, all he can do is sit by your side and hope you’ll say anything to him.

Trey stands next to you, being the one who moniters your body temperature when Riddle is incapable of taking human form. He’ll be silent attempting to calm everyone down, but he can’t be very useful in that regard when the bolts in his neck trickle electricity every now and then (he has shocked everyone else from stress) or even when his limbs fall out of place fromte pressure, though not nearly enough as Deuce’s; they continue to detach and crawl over to you, their own mind having them pat your head or hold your hand.

Cater… Is very scarce in this case. As you heave in your hot and cold body, you think he doesn’t care very much, which you don’t mind, everyone else is much too worried. Little do you know Cater was given the special mission of collecting life force if you end up falling to this disease. He’s determined to do just that. They’ll have everything prepared for your new afterlife. When he comes back, you can only quirk a brow at the smile he has on his false face.

It was only a backup plan… But your laugh, the way the sun hits you reminds them you’re just a frail human. Perhaps… It’d be better if you’d never have to suffer in that mortal body. Stay forever in the shadows of this hospital.

Savanaclaw is only a third qualified, as Ruggie has never been human, and Leona was cared for by other people whenever he was ill. Their biggest problem when you fall sick is they don’t really have the proper knowledge nor materials to deal with it, unlike Heartslaybul who consists of all humans, and quite literally reside in a hospital.

When your heaves grow heavier and heavier with each passing moment, Leona rests you on his tomb (if you were conscious you would’ve freaked out at him, but luckily, you’re not), taking whatever water they can salvage from Savanaclaw, they try their best to cool your fever down. The pale wraps Leona already has on your body increase in quantity, acting as makeshift blankets while he brushes your fevered face.

Meanwhile Ruggie is the one who makes mad dashes around people houses, stealing whatever possible fix there is for illnesses. When Leona is busy cooling you down within whatever his power gives, Ruggie takes his place by your side tending to your every need, albeit with confusion.

If even for a moment you cough a little too hard, or even breath too rough, their backup plan in case all fails comes closer. Though, this backup plan would be their first, if it wasn’t for a certain—hunter… Telling them you’d hate them for all time. But even then, what’s affection if a little hate isn’t there? In truth, they wouldn't mind if you despised them, as long as you’re safe.

Then again, the act of them taking the vitality of innocents for your survival, would no doubt put guilt in your heart.

When you get better, all they can think about when they look at you is how they won’t be there when you really need assistance… What better way than to leave you in this tomb with a mummy?? After all, those bandages are the only sliver of protection you have from being killed so easily… Perhaps they should ask him, how to make you stay for eternity.

Octavinelle is the exact opposite of Heartslaybul it’s actually kinda funny. (Not to them, oh goodness how do they help fevers?!?). You being sick is one of the few times Jade’s so serious, the lack of double-sided compliments scaring you more than your fever. While Floyd is desperately squeezing the cold from his body into your skin, Jade comes from behind and holds your face in his hands, cooling it down from the oceans temperature. Neither attempt works, but they don’t stop.

Azul is urgently collecting every form of marine medicinal herb there is in the sea, even going true form and grabbing ingredients the size of ships. He’ll even do the wretched ‘running’ on land if it means getting you what you need. Magic can only take him so far, those human books he read didn’t need to tell him, he already knows as much.

When Azul comes back he hurriedly tells them to lay you down for treatment, having the two diligently perform every task he asks them. Jade isn’t cracking back-handed jokes and Floyd is entirely focused and still, only time to time fidgeting as he waits. If you weren’t so dazed you’d question if they were really the sea monsters you know.

The sounds of splashing water, the feeling of hands, tentacles, and tails all simultaneously work on ridding that fever. Somehow, it lulls you to sleep.

Your body remains floating in the water as all of them have you wrapped up in their limbs. When you come to, you realize they must’ve stolen someone’s clothes as a new pair are on you, as your new wardrobe is no longer soaked in sea water. You didn’t notice at first, but as soon as you woke up, their eyes were staring deep into your skin, almost like they’re searing the memory of you well and breathing into their memory.

The longer they look at you, the more they think about you. The dangers on land are so horrible… They never get such scenarios like that in sea… that means you must stay where such illnesses can’t reach you.

When you get sick in Scarabia, Kalim will beg you to make a wish, telling you he can make you better if you just ask. It’s one of the few times you genuinely want to make one, but your voice is much too hoarse for it to come through. You open your mouth and any words are too quiet to be commanded, with each syllable replaced with a cough. While Kalim is fretting over your well-being, Jamil is staring from the side, forked tongue hissing everyone once in a while.

This Jamil is capable of being a proper servant towards other monsters, as he knows their makeup… but with you, it’s a bit of a harder case. You don’t eat humans (he thinks), neither do you have tough skin, or enhanced ability, you are a mortal through and through.

Surprisingly, it’s Kalim who pushes through and knows what to do, albeit only slightly. He’ll tell Jamil you need water, and… and…! He can name some of the materials, but sometimes he trails off. It’s been so long since…

Jamil pinches Kalims ear to recenter his attention before slithering over with the needed supplies. He’s dabbing your face with water, taking a cloth and repeatedly dunking it into the liquid. When he takes the rag to dip back into the pitcher, he halts when you weakly grab at his wrist. It’s a weak sight, a vulnerable one, yet it makes his heart race because of how… weak you look. He watches you take his hand and place it on your forehead, eyes fluttering shut as soon as that cold touch hits you.

Right… Cold blooded…

Kalim wraps you in a makeshift blanket to keep your body warm, yet not too warm, while Jamil continues to switch between both hands to keep you cool, his tail wrapped around you. The touch of your skin on his reminds him just how warm you are.

When you finally get over your ailment, Kalim has you wrapped around himself, hugging you tightly as if you’d disappear. While Jamil isn’t nearly as affectionate, every time you walk around the desert the underlying feeling of eyes following you, persists every second… A silent statement of the danger you face all alone, telling you to stay and never harm yourself again.

Pomefiore with another human, except while not as medically skilled as Riddle, much better than everyone else due to his upbringing. Though, this knowledge gets outshone by Vil and Rook, who somehow, do know how illnesses work.

“Rook, do not caress them so… Just feed them the necessary remedies.” Vil sits by your side, ridding your body of the heavy clothes you adorn, until you’re left in much thinner cloth. All while he glares at the way Rook serandes your sweating face. Even in your current state, you can’t help but judge Rooks poor timing of poetry.

“Ah, amour… Even in such a vulnerable condition... I can’t help but believe your glisten is just as beautiful as yesterdays...” you feel his wispy hand stroke your cheek, wiping away your sweat, whispering something under his breath. If you had the energy, your would’ve walked away, but alas, you don’t. You look back at the ceiling, focusing on a single crack in the flawless interior, hoping the beating in your head would leave.

A particularly hard ache in your head as you lift your hands to hit the pain out, but you’re hands are stopped by Vil and Rook taking hold of each of your limbs. Rook whispers a ‘non non’ while Vil continues dabbing cool water on your skin, reprimanding you for such a harmful action.

All this action has you wondering where Epel could be… Come to daytime, the only interval where all of them are essentially harmless unless in the shadows, Epel finally shows himself when they’re both gone. His face isn’t too visible, as the shadows inside the mansion block out all light. You open your mouth to say something, but it’s quickly covered by an apple, teeth grazing the skin. For a moment you hesitate, but your hunters has you crunch into the fruit. You watch him bring the apple to his eyes, examining the marks before smiling.

“They were so worried about the fever, they forgot about food.” he brings the apple to his own lips, fangs piercing the same place you bit, your bites unionized. You’re none the wiser to Vil and Rook in the shadows, realizing, you don’t deserve an illness like this… It’s simple, just like Epel realized, the fragility of human and deciding to rid himself of that… they shall show you the same ephiany.

Ignihydes Underworld isn’t exactly the type you can wander around in… Which is why when Idia sees you resting your fevered head on his shoulder, he panics at the sight flickering in and out of your body. No… You shouldn’t be dying yet—!

And then he comes to the realization, if you died, without any ties to reality, you and him… Would never be alone again. He’s eerily silent as you cough, eyes darting back and forth at the suggestions in his mind. When you lean into him, he stays quiet, draping part of his cloak around your body, both of you trapped in the warmth of the fabric. If you died peacefully, you wouldn't become a ghost and join Heartslaybul… You wouldn't have to worry about the fear of a brutal death and suffering through life, is this not a mercy for you?

He hugs you tighter the more you cough, an ongoing war in his mind. You would never see those guys again… He wouldn’t have to worry about them, or you preferring their company over his—

“Idia…” your voice is horarse as shivers peak through your speech, “Please…”

Are you asking to die? Are you asking for him to be the one who guides your soul? Are you… wanting to be with him? He’s already preparing a scythe in hand, but when you flip your head up to look him in the eyes, he stops all motion.

“I don’t want to…” … You don’t have to finish for him to know. He knows when a person is desperate to live, and you’re one of them. No matter how much envy consumes him when you’re with those fiends, he won’t take your life, not until you truly wish to pass on.

But, that doesn’t mean the vermin around you are spared from his dark occupation. If anything, Idia will see to it they’re sent to the next life sooner than intended.

Diasmonia is an interesting case… They all do care for your current state, and your health of course, yet there’s a lack of urgency somehow… They cater to your sickness yet do it as if they’re only fawning over you rather than saving your life.

Malleus will take a humanoid form, holding your hands as he hums a tune, retelling tales you’ve told him. Occasionally, he will place his palm on your forehead, humming when he sees it’s just as it was when he last checked. There’s no point in asking what he’s doing, he’ll only smile with a tilt of his head before returning to stone, an ominous ‘Don’t fear, you’ll feel better soon enough.’ If you let him walk out, the cycle will repeat a few hours later, furthering your worries. If you grab onto eroding stone, though, he’ll turn back and hear your whispers, not real words but vespers of some. He’ll take his other rough-edged palm, pulling your hands to his lips. For a moment, you see regret in his eyes, but it doesn’t seem to last long when he says ‘it’ll be over soon.’

Lilia feeds you his food, one that’s… particularly not consumable for humans or monsters, yet he beams as if you’ll accept it. You somehow escape from the quick end you would’ve met had you eaten it, Lilia telling you it’s better to get accustomed to their food if you’re going to stay with them… You remind him you’ll be leaving soon enough, and he laughs… you don’t know why.

Sebek… Is very confusing in his behaviors. One moment he’s asking you ways to slightly ease the pain if he spots you wincing, next he’s flinching like he suddenly remembered something and telling you to stay sick for the monster's well-being. It’s conflicting, especially in your current state, everything only seems dizzying. When you wake up from your rest, you don’t feel any better, but there’s a single flower laid on your chest. It’s not much, but the sweet scent helps you forget your headache for a little.

Silver is the only one who remotely seems worried about your human form withering away. When the others are gone he’s next to you actually performing duties to rid your fever, quickly hiding the materials whenever he senses their arrival. He’ll shush you when everything becomes too much, whispering for you to sleep; he’ll rid you of any bad dreams you could encounter, you’ll only dream of your desires. So please, sleep. You never expected such behavior from the other three at all… Until it dawns on you when they overhear their words.

“Yes, the others only seem to ponder the idea, never act on it.” You hold back a cough while you lean against the wall, listening intently to whatever Malleus tells the other. “I wish to care for them until they’re much too weak to walk anymore.” He doesn’t mean… “And then we’ll do what all of them are much to meek to do.” You feel your body crumple under your weight, built arms scooping you up.

Silver… There’s a sorrowed look in his eyes as he looks at you, mouthing a quiet ‘sorry’ under his breath.

“… When they’re not human, they’ll never wish to leave this castle again.”

In the following days they continue to act like it’s your last day in the living, like your fate is predetermined. Malleus and Lilia lavish you in affection, while Sebek instructs you on ways of the dark as if you’re marrying to his family, albeit with a very distancing tone.

Every time they appear and go, you cling to Silver like your last life line, your grip is weak yet the look in your eyes acts like a command to him, insisting he better you.

And fortunately for you, you’re cured. Unfortunately for them, you’re cured.

Sages Quarter

- Rollo goes about the fever like any other one you’ve had, simply because everytime you have had one, it’s him who diligently sits by your side and aids you. (nevermind Jack… And Neige… He’s your main, he thinks, he hopes.) He’ll calmly talk you through the fever as he dabs your forehead, changes your wear, and feeds you in bed. It’s nothing he's never done before. But that’s only if the fever is normal; if it’s the high type, his demeanor take a shift and he looks much deadlier than he did before, his eye bags only increasing in depth.

“Do not move, you will strain yourself.” He watches you open your mouth, the glint in your eyes the kind you make when you’re about to throw a joke at him. Your pretty voice doesn't come out to his disappointment, only a whisper. The occurrence has him panicking, chastising you for silently laughing at your failed retort. “Is it really that funny that you can’t even talk?” he watches you mouth words, placing his hand on your lips, halting anymore movement.

You must be delirious from the fever, as you don’t protest but rather, smile at him. His chest tightens but he’s not sure from what emotion.

For a moment, your eyes go blank, and he’s swift to remove his palm, leaning into you with urgency. It was only for a moment, anyone else would’ve missed it, but not him; he remembers your eyes. He sighs when he sees the light reappear, taking his spot at your side once more.

“Do you take enjoyment in watching me worry?” you don’t have to do much for him to know you’re laughing at him, the look in your pupils tells him all he needs to know. Your hand hesitantly reaches for his cheek, brushing the back of your hand against pale skin. He takes possession of your palm, inhaling before letting the limb go again.

“M… Maybe… I do…” he can tell the effort it took to say just those few words. He watches you close your eyes before taking his handkerchief from his pocket, neatly folding the fabric on your chest.

“You… Truly—I can’t leave you like this…” … A wonderful thought. Maybe he just shouldn’t leave you, ever.

- Skully is quite literally screaming in panic, what exactly is he meant to do?!?! He basically webs you an entire luxury bedroom in your ail, gently coaxing you to lay down on the swindles of web. He smiles at your acceptance, ready to care for you with diligence! But then he remembers, that the entirety of this forest is dead. Any sign of life is quickly caught by him for consumption, any water has disappeared from streams, and plants have been desecrated for so long.

… How is he supposed to help you?!?

He can’t just wait for a wandering traveler to appear! That takes weeks or even months, he can’t wait that long! And even then, he can’t resort to feeding you the human…! It’s barbaric! For you at least... He does it all the time, but that’s because he’s a monster!! He doesn’t do it in front of you… you already seem so disappointed in him when you spy anyone just caught in his webs, the thought of you only looking at him with more fear in those eyes is unbearable—!

“Skully…—” he jumps at the feeling of you leaning on his shoulder, sweat glistening. He panics at the sight, picking you up with four of his arms while the other two set up your bed again.

“Please stay right here dear! I’ll find a way for you—” You pull his head down, close to your face, staring into all his eyes. You huff a single breath into his ear, the word ‘town’ the only audible thing. He knows himself, he stands out way too much to blend into society, so he really shouldn’t… But he can’t stop himself when he lifts you off the bed, a torn blanket he stole wrapped around him like a cloak.

He really shouldn’t… But for you he would break all manner of rules. Even, if he must be ungentlemanly, and leave a trail of webs and red in his wake, he’ll do it all, for you.

- Fellow turns his haunted head, his false joints bending to walk towards you. Thing strings begin to surround you like snakes, not touching, only moving around you.

“Fellow…? What are you…?”

“Shhhh, I thought sick people like you need sleep? My, don’t worry, you’ll be perfectly safe in my care!” the strings quickly push you towards him, Fellow’s false body and intricately designed clothes sound from the force you bump into him. Your head slowly turns up to look at the puppet, his face only a mere inches away from you. If he was a human, there’s no doubt he would be infected by now.

With each step he takes your hand weakly grabs his neck, the fox-themed marionette humming as the strings behind him follow close behind. You open your mouth to question what exactly he’s doing, but only a cough comes out. For a split second, Fellow looks down at you with pain, remembrance of something, something you don’t know. He’s back to the cunning showman persona just a moment later. With the opening of his fake mouth, words come from him.

“As I said, my valued hunter, I will make sure your visit to my stage…” your eyes flutter shut from exhaustion, your last feeling being hard lips placing a chaste kiss on your temple. “You will never feel fear in your life again, dear puppeteer, for the rest of this stage is yours.”

A puppeteer… One that controls the doll on stage… Is that really the case here?

You wake up to the instant feeling of rejuvenation. Just what happened?

The sight of Fellow cleaning his strings bloodied with crimson, tells you It might be better to not know just how you’ve been cured.

- Neige lets you rest your head on his chest as his ivory wings envelop you in a warm embrace, telling you you’ll get better soon, he promises.

It’s not like you can deny his oath, not without a voice. Even then, if you did have one, you don’t think you would’ve anyway, it would be too cruel to tell Neige you don’t trust him to fix you. He’ll lay pristine white covers over you as he flies out the window, a sense of urgency in the angel that he never feels very often unless it’s about the dear human he’s meant for.

When he gets back, he’ll tend to you with tenderness and a gentle touch. Each dab of a towel is soft yet effective, and every spoon of remedy kind as it goes down. He’s certain it’ll work, especially with each blessing he gives you, it must, it has to.

But it doesn’t. You still lay in bed coughing, your speech disappearing with each passing moment. It doesn’t do good for his heart, and he’s not even a human yet it hurts, it hurts seeing you frail like this. But, then his breathing hitches when he realizes a certain feeling swelling inside him.

Wrath. He’s angry that the world won’t let him help you, even more so that the earth feels to do this to you in the first place. He puts on a smile for you as he sits at your bedside, but the way he clenches his fist tells you there’s something else.

“Neige…—”

“It’s okay! I’m going to fulfill my promise, okay?” his eyes sparkle with determination, and all you can do is nod.

The next time he flies over, word of an all-healing elixir reaches his ears, and so, he finds the seller, giving them the kindest of greetings in disguise. He offers up the price everyone spoke of, telling the vendor about your condition. He's hopeful this will work when he gives it—!

“No.” … What? Any other words the seller had to go out one ear and the other, only the way they looked at him seared into his brain. The next moment is a blur for Neige, only the repeated word of ‘Greed’ repeating in his mind.

… When you get better, he folds his wings far away from you, hopeful that you won’t see the black scattered amongst the ivory. Even then, he will commit all manner of sin, even fall from grace, to make sure you stay so heavenly.

A/n: If MH!Reader got a high fever when Crowley is around, you can bet money they’re coughing into a napkin and shoving it in his face to get him sick. If their illness ends up being something really bad, plague? Even better (for them, not everyone else cuz now you have the worst illness ever??? For Crowley too cuz wtf why’d you try giving him the plague?!?)

659 notes · View notes

fr33time · 5 months ago

Text

A/N: Made this because I was sick a couple months ago, I’m very sure I had covid. I had a really bad fever, my body was aching horribly, everything was just agonizing. Made these because I had the idea while I was sick, but I wasn’t able to actually write anything because I slept for most of the days that I was in bed! This was self indulgent but I made sure to keep it open ended, I finally just finished it! Next time I’ll just make separate parts instead of writing them all together because that took so long… but enjoy these! Smooches! (Btw this is not proofread… bare with me)

♡Taking care of an MC thats sick♡

divider credits @baexywth

Genre: headcanons, fluff

Characters: All of them!

Requesting rules here! (Just a heads up, submissions are closed right now but check back later to see if their open)

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Jin

Stays in bed with you, he doesn’t care if he gets sick, but he just wants to stay with you and sleep. He stays on his side of the bed most of the time, he tells you that it’s because he doesn’t want to get coughed or sneezed on. The germs aren’t what he minds, it’s that he doesn’t want to feel it on his skin.

Calls Tohma to grab stuff for you, Jin has pretty much moved you into the frostheim house to keep you away from everyone. Jin doesn’t want to get up, so he tells Tohma everything that you need from the campus store.

Being in Frostheim is probably the best for your fever. Even though you feel like you’re freezing, Jin feels your temperature and can tell that you’re burning up majorly. He takes off your blankets despite your whining, and puts his cold hands on your head to cool you down. He’ll give you socks, or cuddle up to you if you shiver too much, but he needs to cool you off immediately.

Tohma

Tells you that he’ll be there at your beckoning call, he doesn’t want to move you over to Frostheim because he thinks it’ll put too much stress on you to be in a different environment. Because of this, he promises that he’ll get you whatever you need while you’re ill. That if it’s in the middle of the night, you’ll need to call him so that he hears it.

Gives you a stuffed animal to sleep with, he doesn’t want you to be alone in the day so maybe a little buddy would help you. It may seem childish but he can’t get too close to you, he has too many duties to take care of and if he’s sick then who will babysit Jin? He’d much rather be with you honestly, but he can’t abandon his post for long periods of time.

He has fixed times to check up on you if you don’t text him that you want something. At the beginning of the day, lunch, dinnertime, and nighttime. He has papers to get around campus anyways, so he might as well check up on you while he does it. When you can’t sleep and you message him, he comes over, asks you to lay down, and rubs your head while he sits beside you.

Lucas

He tries every hack that is known to man, most of them he’s learned while growing up. Some of them… are a bit unique, but even if he knows that it won’t actually work, he still tries because it will bring you relief and that’s enough for him. He tries out herbal medicine as well, you’re not sure where he finds the time to grab all of these things but he lets you know that the general shop has a herbal medicine corner?

He believes that you should get the best rest that you can, so he leaves you alone for the most part and won’t allow people to visit you. You can’t spend your needed energy on other people, so please let him do all of the work… he needs you better. On occasion he’ll rub your shoulders and scoot you back to bed, it won’t take you long to go back to sleep anyways

Lucas is… very hesitant to go near you, he cares about you but he can’t risk his own health as well. What good is he to you if he isn’t feeling well, plus he needs to train, he’ll lose lots of his progress. But when you need him most then he’ll be there rubbing your back and keeping your temperature down. If you get really bad, he sleeps on the floor in case you need anything, you must be suffering and he hates to see you in pain when he can’t prevent it from happening.

Kaito

He makes you so much food that you probably can’t eat. You’ll have to save most of it in the fridge, but with your low appetite all you want are small portions of food. When Kaito realizes this, he gets embarrassed and profusely apologizes, he runs back out and gets ingredients to make you soup. He wants to make sure you eat properly but he jumps to conclusions during the process.

Insists that he does everything for you, it gets to be a little too much and you’ll probably have to tell him that you just want someone beside you. It got to the point where he would micromanage you. But if you tell him, he’ll sit down and chat with you. He doesn’t mind getting sick if it’s because of you, so he sits beside you on the bed and hangs out. He practically moved into the place…

When someone tries to visit you, he tries to get them to leave as fast as possible. He considers this his time with you, and gets a teensy bit snappy at the guests.

Alan

He’s not exactly sure how to deal with a sick person… he uses everything he can to help you out though. He’ll run errands for you and get whatever he thinks is necessary. He comes back with stuff that seems a bit overkill though, he says that this is what the store clerk recommended but it really just seems like he wanted more money out of Alan… but when he remembers back to when he was sick, he gets better at navigating how you feel.

While you’re laying down he tries to put on TV for you but has some difficulty, the remote seems really confusing to him. You try to help him but he lays you back down and figures it out himself… it took a while but he managed to put on a show that you like without opening 4 different tabs.

He feels like he can’t help you that much but he lends an ear out to you, since he’s a ghoul and he tries to upkeep with a healthy life style he hasn’t been sick for a while. He understands that you’re in a lot of pain so if you complain about how you feel then he won’t mind, he tries to accommodate you and if you ever want some quality food then he’ll get Sho to make something for you. He doesn’t show much affection but he’ll pat your head to let you know that he’s there for you. You don’t have to worry about it.

Leo

Leo legitimately tells you that he doesn’t want to touch you with a ten feet pole. He finds it gross when you blow your nose, or cough, and makes fun of how sick you look. Even when you’re sick, he will not calm down with making fun of you.

Makes you put on a mask before he goes near you, he puts on his own mask and sits beside you to scroll through tiktok. You probably don’t want to do any activities, so he’ll mindlessly scroll and show you funny things, or rant about things that pissed him off that day.

He’ll have Sho make you soup, or something you generally crave. Eating when you’re sick is difficult, so he wants you to eat something delicious. He gets some for himself, of course, you end up complaining though because of how much spices he puts on his food. It stings your nose,

Uses you like a test subject to try out trending “home remedies” for your sickness. Most of them prove to be ineffective…

Shohei

Sho comes around and brings food with him every single time. He doesn’t have much experience caring for people when they feel ill but he doesn’t want you to be weak when you get better. Eating is important and even if you can’t taste it very well, you can tell he tried his best to make it look appealing to you. He doesn’t mind feeding you, you’re weak! You should rest.

When he’s with you his phone blows up from either Leo or Alan. When you ask what’s going on he just shuts off his phone and reassures you that it’s nothing… come to find out later that he totally ditched something to come and see you, Leo definitely knows that Sho came to see you and makes remarks about it all the time for the next week. Sho doesn’t care all that much, you needed him to be there for you, so he was there.

He comes up to rest on the bed with you and talks for a while. He thinks that you must be lonely so if you want his company then he’s more than glad to welcome the idea. He buys you cough medicine from the local shop to hopefully help you sleep, it isn’t much but waking up in the middle of the night is painful when you’re sick. He pours a small cup and waits beside you until you fall asleep.

Haru

Animal therapy! Haru is inconveniently busy at all times, he has so many things to worry about and having you catch a sickness adds to his stress. Bringing over the safest animal to keep you company is the least he can do. He uses the animal as an excuse to come see you, he needs to feed it and you can’t since you’re weak so he might as well do it himself! He cares about you and he can’t bare the thought of you having no company around.

As soon as he gets a break, he’s there in a flash. You’re concerned about how quickly he comes around because his stigma overexerts his body when he uses it, he brushes it off when you bring it up and tells you that you’re more important. He makes sure to bring all of the necessities for you, when he’s gone he gets you to text him a list of things you need so that he can pick them up on the way.

He loves to give you massages when you’re feeling ill. Your body tenses up all day from the way you sleep, and how stressed you feel in general. Loosening those muscles are a sure way to give you some comfort in your own little hell. He massages you for however long you want, and puts you to bed afterwards with some water so you don’t cramp up. If he isn’t careful, he can end up sleeping right next to you because this is the only break he has, and you make him comfortable enough to feel sleepy in your presence.

Towa

Towa uses your sickness as an excuse to see you constantly. He’s another person that doesn’t really mind if he gets sick, but you’re not exactly sure if he can get sick anyways. He sees you every night because Haru still needs Towa at the house, but he brings back many flowers for you. Most of them he tries to get you to eat, there’s also some herbs stuffed in there but he insists that they’ll help you. It actually surprises you when most of your pains are gone.

Cuddles you constantly, and plays with your hair, but it’s very relaxing on your aching head. While you drift off to sleep, Towa tells you love stories that he hears about, and hums little songs to soothe you over. In his arms, you feel comforted, and glad that someone’s there for you.

He gives you a bunch of his sweaters to wear while you’re sick. Mostly because he wants you to remember him constantly while he’s away for the day. He makes to bring food when he comes so that he knows you’re eating and giving yourself nutrients that you need to recover.

Ren

Ren doesn’t directly tell you… but it shows on his face that he’s disgusted whenever you blow your nose. He doesn’t want to get sick, it’s inconvenient for him, so he keeps his distance when he’s around you. He stays within your vicinity though, since taking care of you is whats getting him out of doing chores around the safari, but he won’t tell you that he’s worried about you. After all, you’re what gets him through this hell.

Brings over many movies to watch. Honestly he knows that you probably aren’t paying attention, but he needs something to do. He eventually makes his own space on your bed to lay with you… but he makes a pillow barricade so he doesn’t come into contact with your “germ infected side” like he puts it.

He’ll do your dailies for you and log into the guild that you’re both in so that you don’t get kicked out. He doesn’t want you to miss out on rewards, so he’ll do it when you don’t have enough energy to do so.

Runs out to get you stuff but he makes sure to let you know how much of a pain it is. No matter what he tells you, he does it with ease. He makes simple dinners for you like cups of noodles, he has all the time in the world to make sure you’re taken care of.

Taiga

Taiga… is not very well equipped to take care of another person. You fell asleep while he was blowing up your phone and he came looking for you with a bunch of guards. You didn’t really have a say in your door being taken down from its hinges, you woke up immediately, very confused. You tried to explain that you were sick and all Taiga asked was “is kitty-cat sick?” and sent away his goons.

He doesn’t really care if you’re sick for the most part, he actually tells you that he doesn’t give a shit. He got his goons to move you over to Sinostra to make it easier on himself. Throughout your bed rest, it’s mainly his lackeys that take care of you, they get you food, prepare clothes, the whole deal. Mainly because they don’t want a gun to their head if you die.

He doesn’t leave his room much anyways, so he’s always around you. He thinks that it’s better for his luck when you’re around him, so it’s a win-win, he gets luck and you get taken care of. You’re constantly sleeping with Taiga doing the same thing next to you, it’s very peaceful since he doesn’t forget who you are. When you can’t sleep he’ll grab a deck of cards and play with you until you’re passed out. You’re stuck with him until you’re healthy enough to leave.

Romeo

Romeo is possibly the last one that wants to take care of you… He absolutely can’t get sick and he finds everything icky about how ill you are. He may care about you but he sends someone that works for him to take care of you. When he does visit, he stands on the far opposite end of the room from you. Even when you wear a mask he doesn’t dare come near your germ infested area.

He says that if anyone outside of Sinostra comes and visits you, cough on them, he makes sure to emphasize this point towards Frostheim and Mortkranken. If you’re sick, then you might as well temporarily knock down competition for him as he puts it.

If he feels bad enough for you, he’ll try and be closer to you to relieve some pain. You haven’t gotten up from bed for a few days and haven’t gotten the chance to take a shower. He takes it upon himself to help you clean since you’re too weak to do so, once he’s finished and gets you into bed he is out of there so fast. He needs to shower to make sure he doesn’t get sick… if he does, he totally blames it on you.

Ritsu

Honestly his first instinct was to lecture you on the ways that you need to maintain your health since you two are business parters. He can’t have you incapacitated, what if he needs you and you’re not around? It falls on deaf ears though, you aren’t even paying attention because of the pain. He just sighs loudly and presumes the role of taking care of you, it’s probably the least he can do because of everything you’ve done for him… he doesn’t put it like that in his head though, he pieces it like his obligation to take care of you as his partner.

In his free time he comes to check up on you, he knows that it’s after business hours but he can make an exception for you. While he’s there then he might as well tidy up the place and put on soothing music. You need to keep the place in top conditions, especially while you’re recovering. He checks your temperature with his hand often and puts a wet towel over your head to cool off the brain.

He knows that he doesn’t show much sympathy for people, especially in his line of work where you can be recorded and have things used against him but he will be there to take care of you. You’re with him alot and he misses having you around because other people don’t have the patience to tolerate his schemes. When you’re feeling better he actually smiles at you and says “it’s good to see you’re well.” He is so happy you’re back.

Subaru

Subaru brings Lavender from Hotarubi and hangs it around the Clementia house. He wants you to sleep peacefully, and the smell of Lavender is supposed to help you. He sets up a bath for you, and buys bubble bath that smells like lavender as well. Your muscles tense up from stress and he believes that a bath will help you with that, he sets the temperature on the hotter side to clear your sinuses.

He makes you tea with honey to soothe your throat. You need tons of liquid, but water can irritate your throat sometimes and he wants to make the process as painless as possible for you.

When you want something, he’ll go get it himself. He goes back to his dorm to sleep, but if you call in the middle of the night because you need something, he’ll rush over right away, even if it’s when you can’t sleep and want comfort. He finds a way to get out of what he’s doing to check on you.

Haku

He visits you quite frequently, he would bring you over to Hotarubi but he doesn’t want to risk anyone else getting sick. Despite this, he doesn’t really mind visiting you and brings over a care package that him, Subaru, and Zenji collaborated on. It includes small remedies, snacks, some flowers, and a cute little get well card signed by everyone. He wants to show you that everyone hopes you get better soon.

Haku tries to come as much as he can, but he needs to help around Hotarubi and won’t be able to be at your beckoning call sometimes. He makes it up by doing whatever you want while he’s with you though. He mostly tries to leave you alone so that you can rest, or he can stay close by doing his own thing. He wants to keep an eye on you in case you get worse

When you wake up you find little surprises waiting for you, he gets you little trinkets that he thinks will make you happy. He doesn’t need your thanks but he’ll smile and assure you that it’s nothing. While you’re asleep he rubs your head and looks at you for a while, he doesn’t really care what happens to him but he’ll make sure you’re up and running in no time. If he gets too careless then he’ll fall asleep right beside you and end up getting himself sick, but that just means he’ll have the joy of being taken care of by you.

Zenji

Oh how he worries for you… he visits you all of the time to make sure you’re ok. At some point, he starts to camp out at your place so that he can be with you. Since he can’t get you anything, he gets Haku to buy you groceries.

He’s the best at comforting you and staying with you so that you don’t feel lonely. It’s tough on you, being stuck inside at all times of the day and dealing with a constant cycle of being in pain. Zenji gets emotional with you and tells you that he can’t imagine what you must be going through. After the fact, he gets inspired and tells you about a story of a girl with chronic illness that watches the love of her life enjoy the outside world without knowing that she exists.

He writes a note inside of Mortkranken that you’re sick. He hopes that Jiro or Yuri will notice it and provide you with medicine. He likes to watch over you, but it pains his dear heart that you’re so weak and fragile.

Edward

Edward doesn’t immediately come to your aide since it’s the middle of the day when he hears about your sickness. When you’re about to go to sleep, you hear a knock at the window and discover a bat. You realize it’s Edward and let him in, he doesn’t stay for long, he only came so that he could tell you that you can be sick with him…

Once you’re pretty much moved into Edwards room, he does not help one bit. The only thing he does is watch youtube with you, and act like he’s too weak to get stuff for you, and messages Rui… it’s basically Rui doing all the work for you two, it’s not like Rui minds that you’re there, he’s very ecstatic that you’re staying over but he glares at Edward when he makes a mess of the room with his left over clothes.

He clings to you like you’re his lifeline, he keeps his air conditioning cold so that you can be huddled up to him under many blankets. In the middle of the night when you can’t sleep, surprisingly, Edward goes to the garden and grabs a flower that’s he explains can put you to sleep. It’s your best bet, and he says that it shouldn’t have any dangerous side effects to humans, it’s your choice if you want to trust him on human anatomy…

Rui

He takes this opportunity to move you into Obscuary temporarily! He’s been waiting for the chance to have you stay over, even though he’s glad that you’re finally staying, he wished it was on more fun terms. But it doesn’t dim his mood too much, he gets to take care of you while you’re sick! He promises that he’ll give you the best treatment while you sleep over.

Rui focuses on you so much that he stops picking up trash around Edwards room, and tries to convince Lyca to do everything that Rui usually does around the place so that he can take care of you… He cooks you food, makes sure you shower, drink water, sleep, and limit your exposure to outside stresses. He pretty much just wants you to himself, when you need it, he’ll come inside your room and sit down to talk for a while.

He can’t touch you but oh he wishes he can. He would be by your side the entire time and makes sure to let you know that he’s sending the biggest hugs and kisses your way. He suggests that he should sleep on the ground so he can always make sure you’re fine, but you question it a bit since Rui is literally right next to your room. It’s up to you though!

Lyca

As soon as he hears that you’re sick, he piles up a make-shift den with a bunch of clothes around you on your bed. It’s what makes him feel comfortable when he isn’t feeling good, so why wouldn’t it work for you? He also piles in things that you may need, like Kleenex, cold water, a fan, chapstick, and out of his generosity he gives you items that he likes… but honestly they are super random, like a ribbon that he likes to fiddle with during class. It’s his get well gift to you…

Lyca’s knowledge of sick humans comes from Neros, since Lyca doesn’t get sick very often in the first place. So he goes by what he was taught and gives you space, makes you soup (even though his food making skills are a bit questionable), and makes sure you sleep. Sometimes he kinda just sits outside of your room and growls at people that want to see you, because he thinks that you should rest at all times of the day, WITHOUT visitors.

He goes to Subaru to get more knowledge on how to take care of you while you’re sick, so he also goes by what he says. Lyca doesn’t remember the last time he was sick, so he’s carefree about going near you. If you’re feeling lonely he’ll sit in the den with you and keep you company. He’s still learning about how to take care of a human, it’s been a long time so be patient with him.

Yuri

Yuri rushes to your place right away with Jiro when he hears that you’re sick. They have equipment in tow to do a home check up on you, diagnosing what you have on the spot. He’s very methodical about it and go through treatment plans with you, but it’s a lot of thinking to do when all you want is to go to bed…

You’re pretty much moved into the lab against your will, this is so they can keep constant tabs on your condition. Yuri checks up on you very often, despite saying how he has many patients that he needs to see. He lectures you pretty often on what you shouldn’t do while you’re sick, you have to let him know how much pain you’re in to make him go easier on you.

When it’s nighttime and everyone’s clocking in for the day, he comes in and sits down on a chair beside you. Mainly to see how you’re doing, but he’ll never admit that he wanted to be with you. It’s basically his time off but he doesn’t treat it as such. When you tell him that you’re lonely from sitting in this bed all day, and that you want him to stay longer he’ll get super flustered, but he stays for a very long time. He ends up sleeping with his head on your bed with how sleep deprived he is, you should tell him to go to his bed but he won’t wake up.

Jiro

He is as by the book as possible. When you tell him you’re sick he comes over and says that he’s going to do a complete check up on you. Afterwards he tells you what you have and which medications you should be taking.

When a symptom appears, he describes what’s happening in your body that could be causing it. He tells you pretty knowledgeable trivia about the body and it seems like he enjoys sharing it with you. Like how a fever is the bodies response to a virus, it heats up to kill it and you end up shivering because your body is at a lower temperature than what your brain thinks it should be, so the body shivers to raise it. (I personally love this fact)

Texts you from time to time to make sure you’re doing fine, and new symptoms haven’t appeared. He’ll come over if you need it, but you’ll need to tell him what you want directly, he’s not doing all that guess work. When he comes over he stays a bit longer than he should, Yuri tries to call him but Jiro ignores him for a little bit until you’ve fallen asleep. He pats you on the back or the head because he was once told that this is how he should comfort people.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

556 notes · View notes

nanivinsmoke · 1 year ago

Text

Picture Perfect

just want to apologize for not posting in a while, I was recovering from an illness .

toji f. & shiu k. x f!reader

we all want to be stuffed by these two, right?

summary : your two hot older neighbors agree to stuff you on camera, a viral sensation.

warnings and tags : rough fucking, age gap (readers in her early twenties, the other two late thirties), blow jobs, multiple orgasms, spit play, smoking, porn (making it duh), some anal, nipple play, boob jobs, degradation, etc…

“hello everyone,” you spoke to your webcam, waving at your viewers that were currently tuned in with your livestream. you grabbed a claw clip that was on your desk, putting your hair up before continuing.

“today’s stream is going to be very interesting. remember those two neighbors i was telling you guys about? how i was fantasizing about them fucking me? well, today’s the day!” you said with a giggle, teasing yourself through you ruby red laced bra.

you had been a camstar for a year now and your page was doing really good. at first you were really nervous about showing your face and body to a bunch of random people, but when you got the hang of it; it became natural and unnerving. you only showed from your lips, downward and would blur out the rest of your face and any guests you would be having on the stream. you were making bank, this was a good source of extra income.

you grew really popular, starting off with just some solo play before collaborating with other cam stars, who you became really close with—to now, about to fuck your hot neighbors. they were all for it when you asked them a few days ago, as they have been wanting to fuck the shit out of you for the longest.

the two of them were tired of getting stiff boners watching you walk through the apartment complex, bending over to pick up packages or simply jogging around in your small little outfits; while they shared their daily cigarette. and just like they watched you, you watched them. toji, the one with those hypnotizing green eyes, lived right next door to you; and you could hear everything that went on in his place—and you knew what how good he was.

as for shiu, he lived across the hall from the both of you and would always be at his best friend toji’s house. you weren’t strangers, but after today you would be more than acquaintances.

“when are you gonna stop talking to that camera and come over here, so we could fuck that pretty little mouth of yours?” toji’s deep—panty wetting voice alerted you and your plump lips contorted into a smile. “mmm, can’t keep them waiting. enjoy the show~” you reached behind and unclasped your bra, showing off your plump breasts—before getting up from your plush seat.

sashaying over to your bed, where the two half–naked men awaited, you kicked off your heels and joined them on your king sized bed; pulling toji into a kiss while you reached over and palmed shiu through his briefs. the kiss immediately became hot and sloppy as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, dominating you with ease. freeing shiu from his underwear, you stroked him—his precum sticking to your hand as you moved.

he grunted as he watched you give him the best hand job he had ever received. your manicured hand was soft and your grip around his thick eight inches had him bucking his hips up; wanting more. breaking away from your kiss with toji, you used your one free hand to pull off your soaked panties, tossing it aside; before squatting down on toji’s clothed bulge.

“not wasting any time, are we? guess we really gotta fuck you good now” toji chuckled, grabbing you by your plush thighs and hoisting you onto his face; planting your wet cunt onto his scarred lips—which made you lose your grip on shiu’s cock. a loud moan left your tongue, as toji swirled his on your throbbing clit—sucking and slurping on the swollen bud; your eyes closing shut from the pleasure. but, you had completely forgotten about shiu. that is until you felt his fat tip being smacked onto your plump lips.

his precum became smeared on your lips as he rubbed himself on your mouth, before pushing his way inside of your warm—wet mouth. “shit..” he breathed out while you didn’t hesitate to slobber all over his girth, your moans vibrating against him while toji continued to pleasure you with his tongue.

you started off with using one hand to grip shiu’s cock while you frenched it, tongue swirling around his tip and underneath his cock—causing a low moan to leave his mouth. the way your mouth felt was so euphoric for him. the way your cheeks puffed up and suctioned as you took him, the way your sex filled eyes were brimming with tears and the way spit pooled out the corners of your mouth; had driven him to insanity.

your eyes widened even more when you felt shiu’s big hands grip the sides of your head and push you further onto his cock, making his tip hit the back of your mouth; stuffing you completely. he didn’t let you get used to his roughness, he slammed his hips into your chin; fucking your mouth to his liking.

“yeah, take it like a good little slut—fuck, no hands.” your hands fell to your sides while he proceeded to make a mess out of your mouth. he was so rough, it made your head spin. the more he pumped his fat dick inside, the more your desire increased and everything about his cock turned you on. the smell, the taste and the shape made you hornier; and your throat slowly relaxed—allowing him to push himself deeper inside.

your face was so fucked out and sloppy, coated with slobber as he continued to make your mouth his personal fuck toy. some might find this to be dirty, but he found it arousing—so arousing that he was going to cum real soon, and you knew it too. your clit was pulsating uncontrollably in toji’s mouth. your sweet juices flowing out and into his mouth while he happily lapped them up, dipping his tongue in and out of your hole; building up your orgasm as well.

you couldn’t help but moan and grind your hips on his face, adding some more stimulation to your clit. “shit, y/n—g’na cum in that pretty little mouth,” and a few seconds later he did. he painted the inside of your mouth white, the taste and the warmth only made you want to swallow it and hopefully milk him for more. you wanted to keep sucking, but he pulled out of you with a pop. finally able to breathe right, you gasped and let out a loud moan, as toji sucked on your clit hard; causing you to cum right on his mouth.

“oh f-fuck!~” toji gripped the fat of your ass while you grinded against him, cumming hard all over his face. licking every last bit of your cum, toji pulled you off of his face and pressed his lips onto yours—the mixture of your cum and shiu’s swirled around in your mouths—before the two of you separated, breathless.

shiu immediately grabbed you by your hips and placed you near the edge of the bed where he was standing at, pushing you into the doggystyle position. the sight of your ass was beyond sexy and he couldn’t help but dive his face in between your cheeks, his tongue and the hairs of his mustache tickled you, but it still felt so good. mewls spilled out of your mouth as shiu licked from your ass all the way down to your clit, sending you into a frenzy.

you never been pleased like this before and having your ass ate was such a new, thrilling experience and you craved more. you rocked your hips back onto his face, the fat of your ass smothering him which he loved. it was no doubt that shiu was an ass man.

while shiu pleased you from the back, toji decided to see how good your head game was. “how good is it?” toji asked his best friend, when he finally came up from air, alluding to your mouth. “way too damn good, toj. and fuck her mouth hard, she loves that.” hearing his best friend’s approval, the raven haired male pushed his fat—leaking tip into your mouth, groaning at the feeling.

his dick was so much fatter than shiu’s, your cheeks were spread past its normal size due to his thickness. he tasted so good too, you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head, sucking him like it was an ice pop on a hot sunny day. “too fucking good….shit, this bitch is g’na make me cum already,” toji grunted, pulling himself out of your mouth, so he wouldn’t cum too early before he could fuck your mouth like he wanted.

“told you,” shiu spoke before he stood up from his spot and grabbed his head, pushing it into your slick coated entrance. you couldn’t help but gasp as he stretched you out, which resulted in choking on toji’s cock. “dick too big mama, hm?—it’s alright, you can take it,” toji coached, one of his hands resting on your throat while he restarted to make a mess out of your mouth.

you were in pure bliss while the two men filled both sides of you. your cunt was drenched with your juices and your mouth ached in a way that you found pleasure in. these men were going to break you and you were loving every bit of it.

the pornographic sounds of shiu’s balls smacking your wet cunt, along with the slurping sounds you were making; filled the room the more the two men pounded both of your ends. your live stream was going crazy. it was dinging each time someone joined and subscribed; they were enjoying seeing you get dominated by two older men, and you were as well.

and that’s when you smelled the pungent smell of nicotine. you looked up at toji and saw a cigarette in his mouth, before he took a pull from it and reached over to hand it to shiu. the two of them were smoking while they ravaged you, and you couldn’t help but get turned on from it. “oh? did this just turn you on? seeing us smoke, while we fucked you?” shiu sent a smack to your ass, causing you to moan which vibrated around toji’s eight inches.

“you like that mama? here~” toji removed his cock from your mouth and blew some smoke in it, before a wad of his spit followed along with it. you swallowed it and moaned, sticking out your tongue for more; which made the male chuckle. “so fucking nasty,” he let out another drop into your mouth and shoved his cock right back in, his tip hitting the back of your mouth repeatedly.

shiu could feel how much your walls were clenching around him crazily and knew you were close, “cum for daddy baby, let daddy see how much this pretty pussy cums.” and it didn’t take much for you to let go afterwards. a few more hard strokes with his tip hitting your spot, you creamed around his dick—eyes rolling back in your head as you did. “shit—look so damn sexy when you cum….g’na cum too~” toji breathed out before he emptied his balls into your mouth, with you swallowing his load immediately after.

a trail of spit mixed with his cum followed once he pulled out and you let out a series of moans when you felt shiu’s cock repeatedly slam into your cunt—still sensitive from cumming. a warm filling sensation followed shortly, making your womb feel full with his cum before he pulled out as well.

you laid there breathless, stuffed with cum and a sore aching mouth; until you were flipped over onto your back—being met with toji’s green eyes once more. “my turn~,” he said with a smirk plastered onto his face, before he aligned his tip with your entrance and pushed himself in.

you couldn’t believe it. you were about to have your third orgasm for the night and you were completely fucked out and cock drunk. your cunt gushed as toji pounded into you, his cock stretching you and hitting your g-spot with each stroke. your hair was sweated out and all over the place, but you didn’t care—it was just another sign you were being fucked good.

shiu on the hand was playing with your tits. showing your hard sensitive buds some attention, leaning down to lick on them; while his cock brushed onto one of them. the stimulation sent jolts of electricity to your clit and you loved the feeling from it. “again…mmm do it again”

“where’s your manners, princess?” toji asked, spanking your clit; earning a whimper from you. “please….do it—….again, daddy~.” you locked eyes with shiu and he smirked, before he rubbed his cock against your nipples some more. “good girl”

you were overstimulated to say the least and you could feel your orgasm coming, the two of them were close behind as well. “think she can squirt?” toji asked his best friend, keeping his finger in your clit while he pounded you. shiu looked at your fucked out face and smirked, “definitely.” and he didn’t waste no time in trying to get you to squirt. he thumb swirled on your clit, while his strokes became harder; your orgasm coming at you hard.

“im cumming—im cumming!” you repeated, eyes rolling back into your head as you did and just like shiu said, a stream of clear liquid left your cunt—drenching toji and the sheets beneath you.

“fuck, that was hot. g’na cum too” shiu began stroking his cock, keeping his left hand on one of your breasts—before he painted them with a thick coat of white. and soon, toji was right behind the both of you. after a few more sloppy, hard strokes, your womb was filled once again—tummy full with both of their seeds.

you laid there dazed and out of breath, while shiu stroked your hair and lit up another cigarette. toji sat on the bed and began to massage your sensitive legs, so they wouldn’t be too sore the next day.

“good job mama. maybe next time we could do this again”

and you would definitely take him up on his offer, fucking them on and off camera again.

1K notes · View notes

nubsdolls · 6 months ago

Text

SYPNOSIS ; g/n reader x sparring partner! bakugou, fluff, not proofread .. matching bracelets , enjoy ! xoxo, jord .ᐟ

A/N; this was supposed to be a lil drabble but this came out longer than i intended .. anywaayss. I PROOOMISEEE im gonna start posting more i’ve disappeared for sosososso long.. in the meanwhile take this, luv u guys !!!!!

sparring partner! bakugou that swears he only bugs you 24/7 to “get your ass to training grounds” because you need to improve. no other reason because of course, he cant stand you.. or anything about you, for that matter.

so no, it doesnt “mean” anything when sparring partner! bakugou comes up from behind you to, “fix” your form. adjusting you by signaling you to rotate to the side by giving your hips a little push, nudging your elbows up so your face is protected by your hands.

sparring partner! bakugou who always insists to be near you, discreetly, if he can. because he obviously doesnt want it to seem like he cares, because he doesnt. even during training or maybe even an attack on the school? near you. covering you and making sure warn you of the sneak attacks from behind you.

and even though you practically hate sparring with him, because hes so damn ruthless, ensuring a trip to recovery girl by the end of it, its weirdly the highlight of your days. hearing the ding! of your phone, followed by the usual message from him.

: training grounds. 5 mins

even when its five in the goddamn morning. you never fail to meet him there.

and after a small while of this cycle, you make the (probably) safe assumption you guys are, friends? acquaintances?..hell, maybe you were even on kirishima’s level of ‘friend’. toleratable? at the least.

so while on one of your free days afterschool, youre shopping with the bakusquad. mina, jirou, denki, sero, kirishima, and obviously, bakugou. god knows how they convinced him to tag along.. you get lost in a cute little merch store, spotting matching all might bracelets. ew, corny. who would even get those?

ca—ching! “aaand heres your change, have a nice day!”

you would.

though, you probably shouldve thought this out.. who were you gonna match with? ofcourse, it could always be mina, but she also didnt absolutely fixate on all might. but, there was, one person you had in mind..

and sometime in the week after the hangout, at the end of your—no less than brutal, training session, you tiredly brought it up.

“the other day—while we were at the mall, i saw these matching all might bracelets—“ pant, “i kinda just bought on it on sight, annnd i didnt really think of who to give the other half to before i did.. but i know you like him, so..”

you trail off, simply suggesting it as you move over to sit down on a bench, taking a drink of water, while also, pulling out the bracelets from your pockets and reaching your free hand up to show him.

sparring partner! bakugou scoffs upon seeing the bracelets in your hand. golden age and bronze age all might bracelets.

“thats stupid. im not wearing that shit.” he growls, crossing his arms. his voice a little panted from training. you were getting better. not that he would tell you that directly, of course.

“chill, dynamight.” you roll your eyes playfully, emphasizing his hero name on your tongue. “i was just suggesting it, if you dont want it its fine.” you explain casually. even if, the sentence did hurt your feelings a little.

“ill just give it to izuku.” you shrug, you guys were friends, pretty close if you did say so.

and you almost swear you saw bakugou’s eye twitch. a glint of, jealousy? in his eyes as you bring up the green haired boy’s name.

he lets out an amused huff, rolling his eyes. “tch. whatever, give it to that nerd. not like i care.” before he reaches down next to you for your water bottle, taking a swing, airsip.

setting the bottle back down next to your thigh, he speaks up again. “‘aight, hurry, we arent done. round two.” he adds harshly, motioning with his hand for you to get back up.

“come on. please? one more minute. its so eaarlyyy.” you whine, almost pouty as you throw your head back. still exhausted from the sparring just a few minutes ago. 6am and hes annoyingly productive.

“hurry or i can blast your ass right here.” he glares down at you, grumbling through gritted teeth.

“im getting uupp, geeez.” you groan, lazily getting up from the bench and almost coming up to meet his full height.

later in the day, during class training, you figure you should probably find izuku to give him the other matching half, one already on your wrist.

you couldve sworn you remembered putting it back onto your other wrist so you wouldnt lose it. maybe it was in your dorm instead? whatever, youd just have to give it to him tomorrow.

today, you were working in partners, testing out new possible moves, strengths, weaknesses, and overall just trying to improve on any weak spots.

and like always, sparring partner! bakugou was next to you. basically having claimed you as his designated partner for anything by now, glaring at anyone who even suggested you work with them and not him.

and as your throwing hits at him, trying to catch him off base with your quirk, you notice a glint coming from under his gauntlet, you pause a moment.

its the matching half of your bracelet, all might’s golden age bracelet.

he notices this. feeling his ears dust the slightest pink from, embarrassment? and he uses this moment of weakness to gain the upper hand, pinning you down on the floor.

and youre completely shocked by the sudden move. somehow flipped on your chest to the ground, arms tucked behind your back with his knee holding you down.

“stay focused.” he hisses, reprimanding you for your bad habit.

“thought you said it was stupid?” you mutter. tilting your head to the side ever so slightly to look at him. a sly, cheeky smirk on your face.

“it is.”

maybe it wasnt so stupid after all.

#bakugou katsuki #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #my hero academia #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha #fluff #bnha x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki fluff #gender neutral reader #boku no hero academia #mha drabbles

940 notes · View notes

504py · 1 year ago

Note

Do you have any thoughts on yandere SDV Harvey?🤔

i sure do!!!! i think i got a little carried away 😭😭😭 i hope i delivered!

Yandere Harvey Relationship Headcanons

Gender neutral, no use of Y/N, munchausen syndrome by proxy, implied murder, implied NSFW, Harvey's a little weird about bodily fluids and food, long post ahead!

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

How the relationship started...

Let's say, he knows you outside of his work, and somehow, you're the one person in Stardew Valley who has never entered his clinic before. Honestly, you'd have drawn his attention right then and there because of your strange imperviousness to harm or disease.

Like... You? That farmer who goes down into the mines every other day to fight monsters has never been injured? You, who works day and night to the point of exhaustion has never gotten sick and required medical assistance?

The fact that you weren't one of his patients would worry him to his bones.

Even if you weren't one of his patients, he'd have befriended you outside of work. Perhaps at the saloon, after hours, and one of the very rare times he's seen you relax.

He notices the slight limp as you enter, different from your usual gait. When he asks, you chalk it up to a rock in your boot. Harvey sends you a disapproving stare and a furrowed mustache, and you loosen up.

You tell him you tripped while running away from a slime in the mines. And that you maybe pulled something while running. And maybe you lifted something wrong yesterday and hurt your back. And-

Harvey takes off his glasses to rub at the space between his eyebrows, stressed.

"And not once did you think to come visit me?"

"Thought it would go away if I just slept and drank enough water."

His gaze softens.

"..I really do advise it. Please."

Your fingers play with your glass. He can see a bruise forming on the side of your wrist, and the cuts and calluses on your skin.

"...I'll do it tomorrow."

He sighs slightly.

"Well, since I can't do anything for you right now, I'll at least buy you a drink."

"You can do that?"

"Hey, it numbs the pain. Painkiller." He jokes, and you laugh and shake your head. He realizes he likes the sound of your laugh.

"But- wait, don't take that as real medical advice. Really. Please."

That pulls another laugh out of you, louder, and pink warms his cheeks as he laughs heartily alongside you.

The next evening, Harvey waited all day for you to come in. It was nearing closing hours, and he was worried you had disregarded his advice, but right as he got up to start closing the clinic, the door opens, and there you are, leaves in your hair and your muddy shoes leaving a track on his tiles.

He's elated, he knows he shouldn't be, considering why you're even here, but he's so glad you listened to him, so glad you're here. He looks noticeably flustered, his hair is slightly out of place, his glasses are sliding down his nose, and his tie is loose.

"O-Oh, hey there. You finally came in."

"Were you waiting for me? I apologize. It looked like you were about to close up."

He waves your worries away with a dismissive hand, "Ah, what's one more patient? Come on, you look like you really need my help, anyways."

You follow him into a room, cringing at the muddy mess you leave on the floor.

"Sorry for that- I can clean up after we're done."

Harvey insistently shakes his head, sighing your name, "No, no, can't have you doing that, not in the condition you're in." He motions over to the bed, you sit on the edge of it.

"Besides, I haven't even started my assessment of you yet, but I already know you're gonna need a few days of rest at least. Doctor's orders."

He smiles softly at your annoyed expression, donning his stethoscope as you straighten your posture slightly, readying for him to place the other end of the apparatus on you.

"...See, you've got an abnormal heart rate for someone who is at rest."

He notes the warmth of your skin under his palm, resting against your back.

"Have you been feeling ill recently? Runny nose, coughing, headaches, anything of the sort?"

"U-Uh, no." You shake your head, playing with the fabric of your trousers. Nervous.

"...You seem rather flustered. Any reason?"

Your eyes glance up at his, he cocks his head, and you immediately look back down to your feet.

"...Nah."

Harvey smiles, knowingly, and the rest of the appointment continues as normal.

Expectations...

Following this, he'd be more obvious in his attempts to court you. His courting attempts would feel rather old-fashioned, but I think there's a lot of heart in them. I feel like Harvey would be a little bit of a sucker for romantic things, so you'd definitely be receiving letters, all from a secret admirer, of course.

He is confident that he likes you, but he'd carry a lot of anxiety about being so upfront about it, and that perhaps you wouldn't feel the same way.

The letters he sends you would be brief yet sweet. Short messages to pick you up for the day, just wanting to be a part of your life.

"If you ever feel like all the work you do isn't appreciated, know that I am always here, and I always do. You are doing great."

You'd tell him about the letters you've been receiving, during one of your evenings together at the bar. It'd make him blush. Oh, his letters were so important to you that you had to gush about them to a friend?

"And... What do you think of them? The letters?" His eyes are slightly wider than they should be, but the reflections on his glasses hide his faintly, much-too focused expression.

You shy from his eye contact, "...I think they're really sweet. But honestly, I wish they'd just... say it to me directly instead of hiding like this. I want to communicate, talk to them, y'know? Have a conversation, and stuff.."

Harvey blinks, wets his lips.

"What do you think you'd do if he-" He clears his throat, "-they did?"

You frown a little, mulling over the thought for a bit.

"...I'd go on a few dates with them, see if things work out."

His exhale is shaky, he takes a sip of his whiskey.

"Who do you think it is?"

You meet his gaze. His eyes are warm, his cheeks are red too, but that might be the alcohol... Though you realize he's not the type to get flushed when drunk.

"...Is it you?"

His fingers around his glass tremble, and his bottom lip quivers.

"I.. w-well..." He pushes his glasses up, nervously running a hand through his hair. You giggle, and he relaxes.

"Yeah." He smiles warmly.

"Yeah?" You chirp out a laugh again, "I figured."

Although Harvey was usually one who didn't have any problem holding eye-contact at all, now he found himself unable to look at you for too long without getting giddy like a schoolgirl and having to look away to save his racing heart.

That night, you two would be declared a couple. He teased you, wondering where that "first few dates then we'll see how it works out" phase went. You said it was different if it was him, and he had to hide his face in his hands to conceal his boyish, cheesy grin.

His first show of affection would be the next morning, when he brought you a bouquet of flowers to your doorstep, but upon arrival, seeing your expansive field of vegetation, he realized it was perhaps a bit stupid to gift flowers to someone who grows them.

Nonetheless, you accepted them from an embarrassed Harvey gratefully, saying you've wanted to try growing these for a while. Lo and behold, the next time he shows up, with a more thought-out gift this time, he sees a few new flower pots on your front porch.

Harvey as your boyfriend is strangely rather maternal. He tends to be quite the worrywart, always fussing over any cuts or bruises you may get while going about your day, making sure you eat and get enough rest, and always making sure you're dressed properly.

Oh, the different kind of monster Harvey turns into during the winter LOL. He will stay posted by your door, making sure you don't step a foot outside without a thick coat or gloves.

He does enjoy more than he likes to admit, though, when you still feel cold and he has to give you his coat or his scarf. It makes him all smiley and he thinks you look adorable in his clothing.

I think, his deepest desire, is for you to always stay safe, and that he is the one to provide that safety. I mean, with him being a doctor, he is the only person qualified to look after you anyways, but he still does get jealous.

He gets really upset when he's out of the clinic for a bit, and finds out that Maru was the one who tended to your wounds instead of him.

He gets more jealous when you tell him about the work you did that day, and another person was with you.

What do you mean you spent the evening fishing while conversing with Elliott? That could've been him...

What do you mean you spent the afternoon in the library with Penny? Wha- Gunther winked at you!?

Harvey really does want to spend more time with you, but he has a duty to attend to.

Unless...

Punishments...

Maybe, one day, Harvey will stop worrying so much over your health. He'll let you do your thing as you please, though it would hurt him to see you going about your day so haphazardly. But he'll hold back on his usual worried malewife nagging, and just let you do you.

One day, your dangerous lifestyle will catch up on you, and maybe you'll catch a cold, or you'll break a bone. Harvey will be there immediately, much too prepared.

Even though this is what he wanted from this plan, he still cries. He hates seeing you so beat-up, but he couldn't think of any other way to always be by your side. At least the tears blow away any suspicion of his part in this.

It could be a tiny fracture, but he'll still insist you'd need a cast, and that you'd need a wheelchair for the first few weeks. And, of course, Harvey's there to coddle you and help you around.

Maru says she can look after you while Harvey runs the clinic, but he gets uncharacteristically hostile at the mere suggestion of this. If Maru were to keep prying, if she were to find out that your injuries aren't as bad as he says they are, then Harvey might have to resort to more drastic measures.

Murder would be a very difficult thing for Harvey to do, but when he thinks about the life you two have right now- having you rely on him for everything, taking care of you everyday, spending every single moment with each other- his heart feels like it could fall out of his chest at the thought of anyone taking that away from you two.

His access to such a wide array of chemicals and medicines would be terrifying. If anyone threatens this peaceful, perfect life between you two, he could simply inject them with a certain concoction during their routine check-ups, say they needed it, that it was medicine, and it wouldn't even show in an autopsy.

Unfortunately, his tampering with human life extends to you.

Harvey, I think, would get much too enamored by this life you two have made since you've gotten injured.

Being able to dote on you with no restraint, being by your side for every single moment, it was all he could ever dream of.

But all good things come to an end, and your fractured bone would start to heal.

He never thought he'd be capable of lying, not sure if he'd ever done it before, but it's a newfound talent to him. Worries him how good he is at it.

He tells you you need to keep that cast on. That even if you're allowed to use crutches now instead of a wheelchair, that you still need his assistance. He insists that you need him.

Any sort of push-back from you would have his heart pounding. No, no, you can't get up and go back to work. You can't be doing chores on your own, he'll do that- You cannot leave.

Munchausen syndrome by proxy from an actual doctor would be a horrifying thing to go through. Not just any other doctor either, but Harvey, a man who seems so gentle and kind-hearted, a man who is supposed to be your partner.

Sad to say, but I don't think you'd have any way out of this. Your best course of action would be to just let him take care of you as much as he pleases. In due time, he would want to see you get better, so you'll be back to having your freedom in a few months, maybe...

Rewards...

It is pretty comedic saying this after that punishments portion, but Harvey, on more normal days, really is a passive man. He doesn't really have any strange obsessive habits, though he's probably a little weird about fluids...

By that, I mean he'd probably slip a little bit of his saliva or semen into his cooking. He gets a really euphoric rush when he sees you eating that tainted food he made for you. He enjoys that idea that a part of him is mingled in your body now. The other way around goes, too.

When you're sleeping, sometimes you drool, did you know that? You probably don't, because Harvey always wipes it off and licks it. It gives him shivers whenever he does, makes him way more excited than it should.

His libido is not the highest, but that's because I think he makes an active effort to suppress himself. Wants to be good for you. Harvey does have these dirty thoughts pretty often, but he usually just excuses himself to the bathroom for a second to relieve himself when it gets too unbearable. Even then, he dislikes this, since he feels like it'd be a waste of his release, since it's not inside you.

Every day would feel very domestic, he'd tease that you two already act like an old married couple, but he'd secretly hope you'd catch on to the idea he's putting down.

Harvey really does want to get married to you. He honestly, strangely, would act a lot more normally if you two were to be wed. It's like, there is something that exists that ties you two together, so even if you two aren't always by each other's side, he at least finds some comfort in knowing you two are bound forever.

Let's just, uh, hope you don't divorce him... Honestly, at this point, he may have already taken care of Mayor Lewis, so that option won't even be open to you anymore.

Harvey would probably try to pop the question during a little picnic he prepared for the two of you. The box for your engagement ring hidden in the picnic basket, amongst carefully wrapped sandwiches and lunchboxes.

You would pick it up while looking through the basket, wondering what it was. You open it, and Harvey feels like he could faint from how fast his heart is beating.

He stutters a lot, being unable to look you in the eye, then you rest a hand on his shoulder, and he feels alright again.

"I... I'd really like to get married with you, my love. Whaddya say?"

You smile at him, you say yes, and Harvey literally shouts in joy, before roughly taking you in his arms.

He quickly apologizes for being so erratic, but he swears he's never been happier. He just loves you so much.

Even though you two were only fiancés at this point, he'd call you his husband/wife/spouse from time to time, just a slip of the tongue, but he does get shy about it.

Your life together would be relatively the same now, just with some more added affection.

He'd get more comfortable around you, kissing you more often, getting more touchy, wearing less clothing around the house.

Of course, his main core value is still there; to care for you.

When thinking of Harvey's love language, you would, rationally, expect it to be acts of service. However, I posit this; his love language would be allowing himself to be taken care of.

He does get tired, and you do notice. You try to do his chores, try to take care of yourself so he'd have some time to relax, but he always gets fussy about it.

He insists that he can still do it, that he can still do things for you. Perhaps, he's scared that if he's unable to please you, that you'll go elsewhere, fall out of love with him.

You can sense that fear, and you tell him you'll still be here. You tell him to go lie down and rest, and you'll join him when you've finished cleaning up.

The wrinkles on his forehead soften up, so does his gaze, and he nods.

"I... Alright, sweetheart. I'll be waiting. Don't take too long, okay?"

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

1K notes · View notes

crossingthedreams · 7 months ago

Text

do better — gregory house x f!reader

a/n: I got a little carried away, per usual, and now I’m late with day 04 of the angstober challenge (still a wyp), but I plan on finishing it and posting later today. but, omg, I can’t believe I'm posting day 05 — do better on time! this is also part of @angstober‘s challenge, which I'm having a blast writing. I do love some angsty vibes. please, feel free to comment or dm me!

summary: a relationship between the boss and his employee has a million ways to go wrong. one, in particular, hurt them the most.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: angst. House is an asshole. mentions of family death. mentions of cancer. struggles with immigration. inappropriate relationship. mentions of smut.

Let medicine be thy food.

That's the quote, or at least you think it is. After a particularly long shift, words in English seemed to scramble together a bit, with it being your second language and all. Usually, you’re a natural, perfect, fluent speaker. There are moments, however, when understanding what your peers are saying or formulating cohesive sentences becomes a herculean task. You didn’t make yourself unintelligible, but it was a little awkward to be with a patient who clearly had no idea how globalized the world was and how many doctors in the United States were not native English speakers, and who looked at you like you had just robbed the white coat from a “proper doctor”.

Sure, dealing with people was shitty sometimes. “Doctors don’t treat people, they treat illnesses”, your boss had once said. But in your mind, people weren’t that bad. The long hours, the sleep deprivation, the lack of a social life — that was the really bad part. And there were, of course, the very short lunch breaks.

Medicine was fun, but it had nothing on a full plate of pasta with those weird looking meatballs. What once was disgusting, now seemed appetizing as hell. Not eating once while working for the whole night could do that to a person. Medicine was not food, at least not literally.

You had taken off your sweater and your white coat a while before going to the cafeteria, where the rest of the team was. As of right now, you and Chase had spent thirty-six hours working. Cameron and Foreman had taken the long straws and gone home last night while you and the prettiest doctor around worked on some lab tests.

That man who, right now, was not really trying to hide how he lustfully eyed you up and down, stopping on your cleavage. You didn’t blame him for looking, though. Firstly, you did spend the night working together and you mentioned that you did not have sex for the last six months, and secondly, you had nice boobs, which was both a blessing and a curse. Also, he was very much exhausted. Thinking about your coworkers in an unfashionable manner to keep awake was better than falling asleep atop of a patient during a lumbar puncture — you had done both, so you could tell, oops.

“I’ll die if I have to do any more thinking”, the pretty doctor said, accent even more prominent, letting his head drop to the headrest of his seat behind him.

“Yes, thinking just doesn’t come naturally to some people”, you laughingly replied, sitting down next to Foreman. He scooched over, making more room for you and your tray. There was enough pasta on your plate to feed two, not to mention the salad, the dessert, the can of Coke and the can of energy drink.

“Damn, kid, do you not have food at home?” You eyed Foreman, a little annoyed at the comment. Why did men think they had the right to comment on women’s food choices and bodies all the damn time? “Don’t give me that look, you know that’s a lot, especially for a girl who skips lunch every other day”.

“Not by choice” you said, taking a lot of pasta into your mouth. “Nof ba chos”, you replied, mouth full, making everyone at the table let out a tired laugh.

It was an uneventful meal. The team was really tired, especially Chase, who almost dropped his head on his plate twice. The four of you rushed upstairs when lunch was over, after being paged by your boss.

The man himself was pacing back and forth in the conference room, brows furrowed and looking extremely aggravated. Nothing new, then, you think, sitting down across from Cameron.

Allison Cameron and you had been friends since med school, and getting to work together was pretty nice. Women in STEM need each other, of that you were sure. The thing is, she was in a weird place romantically, which made you feel weird about getting along with the people about whom she was confused — which hardly makes sense, but it is what it is. She had a crush on your boss for the longest time, and that didn’t work out at all. And then there was Chase, who she had slept with, but had no interest in further pursuing.

Hanging out with Chase knowing he’d seen her naked was a little weird, but the fact they’d slept together wasn’t the problem. He liked her, and that was her problem. Your boss, well, he was everybody’s problem.

Particularly yours, considering… you know. The one-night-that-became-every-night. The HR-nightmare. The doing-the-devil’s-tango. The seeing-each-other-scars. The kissing-and-absolutely-not-telling.

It was fairly easy sneaking around. He was inappropriate, sure, but not big on PDA. He treated you like any other dumbass employee with boobs. If anyone saw the two of you leaving the hospital together? You worked together. If you were seen going towards the same place? You’re neighbors, duh. And if anyone happened to see the two of you having breakfast together in the little café a block around his place? Well, it was a coincidence meeting him there!

If they saw you giving him head while he tried to play the piano, well… There’s no explanation for that.

You looked at him coming and going, and you knew his leg must be killing him. Yesterday when you left his home in the morning to pick up your stuff for the day (which turned out to be the day, the night and the next day), he was popping more pills than usual. Shit.

“New case?”, Cameron asked, looking at the limping man with worry and care in her eyes. You liked her a lot, but she had to stop thinking about your limping man with such care.

Sure, she liked him first. And she probably worried for him just as she would anyone else. And it was ridiculous to be annoyed at your long-time friend for caring for her boss. Still, there was a sting of jealousy that made you want to bitch-slap her.

He finally stopped and looked at all of you. When his eyes finally met you, he looked right at your low cut top and let out a “Yowza!”. When you blushed and stood up to pick your white coat, he called your last name, and said, nonchalantly: “Nice boobs”.

You raised a hand to pinch at the bridge of your nose as you sat down. It might seem like sexual harassment — and at first, it was a little bit —, but now it was just him being as inappropriate as always. Hiding from his feelings, keeping his distance with pathetic remarks and cold attitudes. It made you sad when you started working for him, but right now, you pinched your nose to stop you from giggling like a sixteen year old cheerleader being noticed by the boy on the football team. Or rather, the boy on the bench cursing at the stupid players.

Dr. Gregory House had a massive crush on you, and that made all the shit he did go away.

You realized Chase started updating House on the patient you spent all night testing and monitoring. Truth is, that guy didn’t stand a chance for a normal life here on forward. At best, he had a benign hereditary chorea. Worst case scenario, it was Huntington manifesting earlier than it should, as you’d been saying from the beginning.

“Shut up”, House said to Chase, making those blue Australian eyes widen. Poor guy, he looked beyond exhausted. “I understand how DNA testing works. I went to med school too, remember?”

“Yeah, but that was seven hundred years ago”, you let out before you could think twice. You teased House a little for being older. Scratch that, you gave him a lot of crap for being older. You just didn’t do it in front of the team, which was why they all looked at you horrified.

Horrified, but Foreman was holding in a laugh.

The ‘old-man’ hit his cane on the desk, turning the attention back to him. “Ouch”.

You smiled, playing it off like a remark made by an exhausted overworked young woman who disliked her boss. House half-screamed some orders to all of you, even though he already knew you had clinic duty.

The hours left to finish on the clinic were manageable, so you could finish it after you did some of the tests House asked.

Time passed by too quickly, and as your day went by, you remembered you had to talk to Wilson as soon as possible. It wasn’t a life or death matter, but a peace of mind kind of thing. You decided to stop by his office before you It was then that you overheard something you shouldn’t have.

Well, that brought the high school memories right back.

It was the middle of the afternoon, also known as the beginning of your third shift in a row, and you were stopping by Wilson’s office to discuss a private matter. A family member of yours had cancer, and then another one. By the time your fourth relative came down with the diagnosis, you decided to check your genetic predisposition. Although the tests came back clean, meaning you were safe for oncology purposes, you still wanted to know his opinion on how you could be even safer.

You looked cancer in the eyes many times. You didn’t want to look at it in the mirror too.

For some godly reason, you stopped before knocking. That’s when you recognized your boss’s voice, complaining about something, per usual.

“She’s a baby! She had never watched Grease, for crying out loud”, the voice and the footsteps made their sounds in harmony. You leaned in closer to the door, to try and listen better.

“Well, you two barely know each other, now it’s the time to know if there’s a future in this relationship or not. And would you ever marry her?”, Wilson’s voice, and the words made you freeze.

“Not everyone has marriage on the brain 24/7, Wilson”, House replied. Even from behind the door, you could almost hear the engines in his brain turning. “And God, no. I could never marry her. I can do better than a gullible third-world princess”.

You froze.

Of course he’d say that. Of course. Even if he didn’t mean it.

The realization came like an electrical shock flowing through your body. You felt it, and it made the hairs on the nape of your neck rise.

You meant nothing to him.

As an immigrant, the feeling of never belonging is constant. You don’t belong in the place you now live, but you don’t really belong in the place you were born.

You had felt for a fraction of a second that you could find your place here. In House's department. Perhaps, even with House. God, you were stupid. You were a device for him to finish his puzzles, and an object to finish… Well, to finish himself off.

As you left your transe and heard the voices again, you ran as fast as you could back to the clinic, where you had a couple hours left to finish. There was something you needed to arrange with Cuddy, too.

Hours later, you were in the department’s room reading some exams when House walked in.

He eyed you up and down again, eyes lingering on your breasts a little longer than a boss’ eyes normally would. “So”, he took his bootle from his jacket and opened it, popping a couple of pills, “your place or mine?”

“You suck”, you murmured, angrily, but pouting a little. He’d never admit it, but he loved seeing you a little aggravated, crossing your arms in front of your body in a way that made your already eye-catching torso irresistible.

He smiled a little, putting the medicine back in his pocket. “No, sweetheart”, he now fully grinned, “that’s you.”

You rolled your eyes, but let your arms fall and a cold smile creeped into your face.

“Yes, I do, actually”, you rose up from the chair and walked all the way towards him, hitting your hand towards his chest and pressing the paper you were holding against him. “I’m a full on sucker, and ass-kisser, as you like to point out. That’s why your so called mortal enemy offered me a job in New York”.

He took the paper, blue eyes never leaving yours.

“Consider this my two weeks notice”. It was hard to say, but it felt a little good, too. Logically, there were no downsides in this opportunity. Then, why did it hurt so much? “I guess everyone was right. I can do better”.

The double meaning was not lost on House.

Your hand finally left his chest, and he didn’t look back as you left.

Looking at it now, it all seems so simple. It never is, though, is it? Especially with House. And you, an intelligent, kind, talented and ambitious young woman, could definitely do better than attach yourself to a crippled, bitter, odious older man.

You were doing better now. So, why, pray tell, why did this still hurt so much?

809 notes · View notes

that-weird-thing-in-the-woods · 6 months ago

Text

~{ Heyy so I’m on a redoing thing so expect some of my older stuff getting a redo but I’m not getting rid of the old one and sorry for being gone so long lol now onto the post! }~

🪷Queen Danny🪷

The G.I.W fucked up

They have created a Nuke full of Core and other things to take out The Ghost Zone which would have killed them soon after but due to the Ghost Zone having semi-Sentence (No actual thoughts, just Vibes ) when the G.I.W threw it in the Ghost Zone just hit it back to them and when it was thrown back it sent it hit one of the sensor that made it go off on the G.I.W but not only them but the whole dimension and it took everything and one out in one go but Danny

Due to being the only half-ghost in existence ( Vlad was not a Halfa, he was just possessing his own corpse ) all the Nuke did was kill him fully but due to what was in the Nuke it destroyed whatever chance for anyone else from his dimension to turn into a ghost but it did do a number on him as he was in and out of consciousness as he floats though the Ghost Zone

Until he feels a large hand grab him and start to pull him but Danny is to out of to really ask questions or even respond to whatever is happening and he just closes his eyes and hope this person will help.When he wakes up and is coherent enough to actually respond to things and look around( Not well but respond none the less ) he sees a very familiar face, The face of the Ghost king Pariah Dark and just when Danny was about to panic Pariah Dark stops him and explains

That he was let by clockwork so he could help him because clockwork himself can’t help due to him being busy with the timelines and other things he does and when looking for him, he found him full ghost just floating while injured so he took him back to the castle and has been taking care of Danny himself and that calms Danny down a bit because if he wanted to hurt him than he would have done so when he was unconscious or incoherent so Danny chills out a bit and just talks with Pariah Dark

Over the next few weeks while Danny is getting used to just being a full ghost and just broadcasting his emotions for comfort or anything really as well as the rules of being a ghost with Pariah Dark and over this time he and Danny grow a Father-son relationship with each other and because very close with each other

(Pariah Dark wanted to have kids before he died but was killed on the battlefield so he never got the chance and with Danny he gets that chance so he is the overprotective father he was mean to be! And Danny he never really got the fatherly love he just got the Jack love when he was actually paying attention which was almost never so he’s fine with this.)

And when Danny was able to actually walk around again not that he really was he just floats around or Pariah Dark carry’s him around the Observers started to lose their shit over Danny and how “He defeated the king!” And to put him in one of the nap time box’s let’s just say clockwork shut that down real fast but the Observers were still going on about what to do with Danny until one of them said something about making him Queen and that was the only thing they could agree on so now Danny’s queen now.

Pariah Dark had a lot of paperwork to do from his time in the nap box and when he does it he can’t take care of Danny who was still healing so he brings in two hand maids Haru and Mizuki two little girls who died due to illness so he brings them in to take care of Danny what he was not expecting was for them to claim Danny as their mother and because very protective of him and Danny love them just as much so Pariah Dark can’t get rid of them even if they call him a ”Barbarian!” And tell him to “Put down our Grace!” But they fight when Danny isn’t looking Danny knows, he just finds this funny and doesn’t stop them

And yes Pariah Dark, The Ghost King is have beef with two 12 year old girls over his now 16 year old adoptive son affection

But everything was perfect for Danny so he was happy with how his afterlife was going and he hopes it stays that way..

A emergency meeting was called by one of the members of JLD, John Constantine

But when everyone gets there [ Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, Green Lantern, Green arrow, Marian manhunter, Aqua man ] but the Flash is missing and as the other hero’s start asking questions

John starts to explain that one of the strongest beings to exist have taken The Flash and that they need to convince some of the other strongest beings who have the title of “Ancients” that the Flash has been doing good with his powers and to let him go

And than John makes them a portal to get them to the Ghost zone.

~{ It than goes as the song “God Games” which this au is based on with Danny being Hera and the other Ancients being the other gods }~

Danny outfit and appearance [ can be changed to different clothes but the main idea is this ]

This for his outfit [Haru and Mizuki like to dress Danny up like this, it makes them happy and Danny doesn’t have the heart to tell them no]

With this color scheme for Danny

~{ And that’s about it for this Au! I hope you gremlins like it and remember the rules you use my stuff tag me! Now byeeee }~

353 notes · View notes

shirefantasies · 1 year ago

Text

LoTR Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)

Back with more parent AU because it's some of my favorite fluff! Consider this a Part 1 to an anon request that’ll be on its way hehe (also an AU where something happens with Celebrían apparently 😥)

Warnings: conception, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms mentioned, very long post lol

Aragorn

✧ Neither of you had made any concrete plans. No set in stone hour of your marriage reserved for the growth of your family or dubbed too early. Thus, you are unsure how your husband will feel about your news, the fact that you got yourself checked out the first moment of illness, mother's intuition in full service already, it would seem. You cannot keep your smile to yourself, though, as you stroll in search of Aragorn, hand hovering about your own waist as if in disbelief. He had just returned from a hunting trip when you found him, smiling shakily at his amusement when you pulled him immediately aside into the next room over. "What troubles your heart?" The man had intuition of his own, years of silent observation- there was no lying to him. "I just learned that I am with child, Aragorn," you took his hand, seeing no point in being anything but direct, "due for the birth next spring if all goes well." "With blossom comes the next blessing of my kin," your husband replied, that wise look in his blue eyes causing you to shake your head fondly, "what could be more beautiful? What a gift you have given me and how could I ever repay it?" Shaking your head once more, you simply grinned and, sighing with relief and anticipation alike, replied that being the amazing father you know him to be will be all you need. Leaning forward, Aragorn laid his head against yours, brushing your noses as he held you.

✧ Looking out upon the kingdom, the realization that is is his kingdom still sinking in, and that he has made this place a home for new life as well. That this is the very reason he fought for a safe world. It brings such a rush to his heart that he goes off in search of you at once, kissing you warmly and caressing your still-small bump.

✧ Aragorn loves doing anything he possibly can to make your days easier, treating you like the queen you quite literally are! He pampers you with treatment like massages, washing your hair for you, drawing you baths, and the like.

✧ While you no doubt have many people at your disposal, quite similarly your husband enjoys cooking for you by hand and memorizes everything that makes you sick if anything as well as the random foods your cravings make you obsessed with, trying to creatively incorporate them into everything.

✧ You knew it already, but your pregnancy brings about the reminder that this man has such a way with encouraging words, his voice the only thing that cuts through the clouds of your changing moods.

✧ Aragorn is the one who tells you not to be so hard on yourself, that you are doing an amazing thing and you are desirable as yourself, no more and no less. No need to hide yourself, no need to perform, no need to feel anything less than the beautiful soul you have always been. Remember, he tells you, he is going nowhere, and you will endure all together.

Legolas

✧ For so long had you and Legolas hoped for your little life, long enough of trial and hope that you’d all but given up until you felt a shift. Felt on the brink of illness at nearly all times, seeking healing for a mystery illness and leaving with news that had your husband holding you for minutes on end, tears sliding down his cheeks, and refusing to let go of your hand all day. Holding you like you might shatter, his other hand wrapped gently around your waist where his hand can brush the curve of your soon-to-be-growing belly. “We did it, my love. We will finally be three.”

✧ Your husband grows wistful, getting a distant look in his eyes before smiling and reminiscing on his younger days. “What demeanor shall our little one have, do you say? I would not mind having two of you,” he teases, while you say a child like him would be much easier!

✧ “Both of your little ones sound quite healthy.” “Both?” You are shocked, but Legolas’s grin never falters, nor does his surprisingly tight, hearty grip upon your shoulders. “Twins,” he keeps repeating in wonder throughout the day.

✧ You and Legolas have a bet running on the twins, if they are to be identical or not. You think they are both boys, while Legolas thinks he has a little girl waiting for him, too. “Wishful thinking,” you tease him. “Absolutely,” he agrees, smiling softly at you.

✧ As time passes, he does tease you about your waddle. “Shall I slow down a bit?” Cheeky prince, but that’s why you love him!

✧ Legolas’s eyes never fix you with anything but awe. He is simply amazed at all the wonders your body is capable of and what it endures. Even though that wonder also manifests as him almost constantly asking if you are alright, it is worth it when your husband looks at you as though captivated by a goddess.

Boromir

✧ Boromir caught you with your eyes bulging out of your head, not a single chance of delaying your discussion. Such news as you have just received can only be considered a blessing, and yet you still are shaken to the core with the spiking precursor of excitement and hope, hope that your husband would be happy. Your words burst forth the moment he took your hands, asking you whatever was wrong and nodding faster and faster with each step of your detailed medical visit. His smile grew and grew until he could hardly help himself, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that more than assuaged your worries. “Why do you look so worried? Such a wonderful blessing was beyond anything I could imagine,” he tells you, a hand reaching to rest gently upon you.

✧ He all but tackles you to bed that night, kissing again and again your lips, your cheeks, and down finally to your belly.

✧ Boromir’s appreciation of your body never ceases your entire wait. His hands always caressing you, his words always sweet upon your ears, especially to cut through the deprecating ones your own lips utter. It baffles your husband that you cannot see how utterly glowing you are.

✧ One hundred percent though will he be teasing you about the odd cravings you get; even as he goes to fetch them he’s making faces, asking if you’re sure, joking about what strange taste the little one has.

✧ You suspect you are carrying a son while Boromir’s guess is a little girl. After you remind him that a mother knows, he rests a hand over your bump and replies with a teasing grin “Why can’t a father know as well?” “Because you do not have to carry him for the better part of a year!”

✧ One of Boromir's favorite things in this world is the sight of how his lent garments fit you tighter and tighter, bringing a twinge to both the loving and the possessive sides of his heart...and his hands to wrap around you or cup your cheeks and pull you into a kiss!

Gimli

✧ His intuition is off the proverbial charts. It is he who first makes any mention of your chances, stating you should not strain yourself in your condition. You are confused, you even protest, but in the end you have your little appointment and your husband has a smug little moment of ‘I told you so’ before the realization of just what he’d been sensing hits him, dropping his jaw and sending his arms flying about you, lifting you up into the air with a hearty laugh. “The mighty line continues! And thanks to such a beautiful lassie no less! You'll want for nothing, I promise you, and no harm'll come to either of you while I yet draw breath."

✧ Has strong opinions about how well you should be eating, so barring you being stricken with sickness Gimli will be making or otherwise providing for you the heartiest of meals, all the things he believes are necessary to raise up a strong little dwarfling. Thank the fortitude and solace of his people, but you are sick very little your entire journey with this and all other little ones you share!

✧ Given the strength of dwarven genetics, you both assume that you are expecting a boy; thus, your husband insists on crafting a tiny axe for him. “For when he’s older, of course!” Gimli assures you, waving his hands defensively.

✧ No worries about your pregnancy weight here- suffice it to say that a dwarf finds the extra pounds quite appealing and has no hesitation about showing you such!

✧ Any exhaustion you feel is the only thing that stops Gimli from taking you around to all his friends and loved ones and likely anyone else who will listen and announce that he has a child on the way!

✧ Nesting is a very strong instinct of his! Gimli builds and crafts by hand all of your baby's furniture and decor, even an adorable mobile of horses, little dwarves with pickaxes, and little effigies of your favorite animal all dangling above his crib! Leaning his head against your belly, he asks the baby "Well, what do you think? Only the finest for my little flame!"

Frodo

✧ Your husband wasn’t sure at first. Not sure if he would feel whole enough after all he endured to bring a life into this world, but you, oh, you… The one who brought life vividly rushing back to his heart, color returning to his life and comfort to his pain. One day a pang struck his heart and he realized it would mean the world if after it all he was able to create life, and more importantly to have something so amazing come of your love. Soon after you both eagerly hoped for the signs, and it took but a few months. Frodo worried you would be sick, but confirmation comes after weeks without your cycle, nothing more. For once, no pain shall come to Frodo Baggins or those he loves.

✧ Your health is his greatest concern, so much so in fact that Frodo has soon befriended practically every midwife in the Shire, melting them with his endearing eagerness to know all he can about your possible afflictions and what you need. His concerns soon gather you the proverbial village of help should you ever send Frodo off for something beyond his breadth.

✧ It breaks Frodo's heart when his nightmares or moments of panic coincide with your own fragile emotions for the first time, for he should be caring for you, not the other way around, but when you hold each other, tears soaking into the opposite shirt, he realizes that what you two have is an understanding and trust strong enough to fortify each other even in darkness.

✧ In case you were not already aware, you are so lucky in your choice of husband! Discussing names soon emerges into your conversation and it almost takes you aback how quickly agreements on a girl and boy name are reached!

✧ The one time during your entire wait for your little one that brings tears to Frodo’s eyes is the day you bring home a bolt of fabric and when he asks what it is for, you answer to make him and your new arrival matching garments.

✧ You catch him smiling widely at you, love glowing in his bright blue eyes as he watches you do even the smallest things, your little waddle or the way you practice folding diaper cloth. All you can imagine is those same eyes fixed upon a babe in his arms, shooting Frodo the same look right back.

Sam

✧ It seemed that every other conversation you shared with your beloved Samwise revolved around babies, so much so that your few still-unmarried friends had grown sick of it. Anyone with a baby in the Shire, though, knew who to look toward for care! You and Sam gushed over little clothes, little hands, went on for goodness-knows-how-long about how much you'd like a little Sam and he wants a miniature version of the loveliest girl he'd ever seen followed of course by you saying why not both? Sam loved life so much, saw beauty in growth and creation and every joy in it, so of course he wanted a big family and all his infectious sunshine on the subject just made you fall in love with him more and more. Months of trying passed, though, before you came to Sam in a daze, before you cupped his precious face in your hands and whispered to him we did it. Before he tackled you to the soft grassy ground and held you, weeping tears of joy and kissing your hands, your cheeks, finally your lips once he'd spoken how much he loved you.

✧ Takes to sleeping a bit lower, his head nuzzled against your torso. In the night you can feel his nose and lips ghosting over it and even hear little whispers when you both can't sleep, but you say nothing, letting Sam have his moments with the little one.

✧ The worry he has about everything the first time around. "Are you sure you can eat that? I don't want you to get sick." "Is that too heavy?" "Don't trouble yourself a mite when I'm right here, I'll bend over for it." "Alright, only if you're certain nothing will happen to the baby, sweetheart." As much as you want to remind him that you are still a fully functional woman, you know that Sam is an action man and this is his way of showing he cares.

✧ The meals he cooks you. You will be eating like a queen all because Sam wants to keep the baby strong, of course! As a bonus, it truly is like he knows what sets you off and avoids those things without even having to ask.

✧ “Imagine all the wee feet running through here,” Sam muses in bed one night, your head tucked in the crook of his neck. “The little hands grasping ours,” you add. “All the little ribbons we can tie in a girl’s hair.” “Taking your little boy out to the garden!” Once again, your friends act positively sick of how sweet you are, but inside anyone can see how deliriously happy you and Sam are and feel warmed by it.

✧ “When the time comes,” Sam always assures you, your hand tightly in his, “I’ll be right here. Wild horses could hardly drag your Sam away.”

Merry

✧ Your reveal is made a bit anticlimactic thanks to your husband’s teasing ways. “You’re knitting.” Glancing down at your work, you simply nod. “Yes.” “You never knit.” Merry’s eyes narrow. “Is it for somebody?” “If you must know,” you set your needles carefully in your lap and tease back, “this is for your child. Any complaints now?” “My child?” Jaw dropping, Merry looks at you like you’d just offered him the whole of Middle Earth. “That’s right,” your voice softens, even cracking a bit with emotion at the sight of his smile, “you’re going to be a father, Merry.”

✧ Merry’s adorable little habit of making you a pillow pile to lay on during your time of the month carries right through to your pregnancy. And of course it continues even when you remind him you’ll not be able to stand up from in because he will be right there to help you up!

✧ Because you've taken up knitting, Merry wheedles with all his charm and love and kisses an additional creation from you: a sweater made from the same yarn as baby's. "You are lucky to be so adorable," you tease him, looking up from your work to kiss his lovely lips. Maybe, you thought, a whole matching set for three would be in order, though…

✧ Another one who teases you, joking about how he is finally able to outrun you!

✧ The type of father to chastise the baby whenever they kick you too hard, lecturing to the front of your dress about hurting your mother and how that simply won’t do, then looking up at you with a humored smile.

✧ Compliments increase at least twofold upon your revelation, Merry never sparing the kindest words about your strength, certainly, but mostly your beauty. Never once during any pregnancy do you feel unloved, unwanted, unattractive, for even when your eyes can find no light within your reflection there your husband is practically worshipping every corner of your form.

Pippin

✧ Desire for a family was something that had drawn you two together as a couple, though you may have found yourself talking Pippin down from ten children! “Maybe start with five,” you would always tease him. So the moment your hypothesis is tested and confirmed, a grin you can’t remove spreads across your face and you run to collect everything for your surprise. Surprise is the only word you can use when Pippin opens his gift and sees the tiny knitted hat you’ve placed inside the box. “What is this for? Little small, is it not?” “If it was for us, perhaps.” It ended up taking you reaching out for his hand and resting it upon your lower belly for the massive grin to spread across his face, but once it does Pippin is laughing loudly and giddily, swinging you back and forth in ecstasy!

✧ Runs to get you whatever your need with barely an question. After all, who is he to say what it's like being with child, and if you want it, you shall have it. Hot water bottle? Certainly. A cup of tea? Of course. Three more pillows? Why, he'll strip your whole bed down. Panics a little if the request is to relieve pain, so prepare to hear a crash or the shuffle of a trip or two before you have the item in hand or on body.

✧ "What is this for?" "What are these?" Lucky you love him, your husband does have many a question of all the supplies you gather for after your new addition is welcomed. "Oh, to keep the hands safe? That makes sense." "Wait, you need to wear that... to catch the bloo- oh, my." He gulps. "I'm going out right now. I'm getting you a cake and some jewelry and some flowers and anything else you'd like."

✧ Can barely keep his hands to himself. Pippin was always the most affectionate husband you could ask for, but now? Now you two are practically a package set and nary can you travel without his arm around you, hand about your waist and gently running up and down over your little growing bump.

✧ Your baby seems to have inherited your husband’s personality, for even before the birth many signs of how active your little one is are present! Those poor ribs of yours will get kicked more than a few times with all the fluttering your little one stirs up inside of you! Pippin, of course, wants to feel it all and luckily he is never far from the scene. If he is, though, you bet he will run!

✧ Pippin is always laying with his cheek resting on your belly, talking to the baby about anything from how his day’s gone to how they have the most amazing and beautiful mother. Your heart can’t help fluttering every time.

Faramir

✧ Faramir has the most uncanny way of reading you like a book, a habit endearing as it is frustrating. Thus the moment he catches you smiling to yourself he is smiling back, approaching you with teasing question of what has you so happy. For once, though, you have the satisfaction of catching your husband off guard, resting your head against his shoulder and a hand upon his chest as you tell him you just cannot wait to see him as a father. "Someday, my love," he takes your hand and kisses it, "if I am so blessed." Giggling, you shake your head against him. "Blessed indeed! Someday shall be this fall," you answer, and peeling back from him you receive another spike of satisfaction at his wide blue eyes, the drop of his jaw and the race of his heart beneath your hand. "Are you certain?" You nod. This time, he takes both of your hands in his and with tears in his eyes thanks the heavens for you even as he shakily laughs, your bright demeanor never failing to put a smile upon his face. "Our child will be so loved." "I know."

✧ Your husband finds himself lost in reverie more and more often, drifting out of reality into some distant, but nowhere near out-of-reach, dream of your family, seeing you as a mother the most beautiful sight he can conjure.

✧ Faramir adores holding you from behind, his hands curled gently over where your bump forms and his head resting gently upon your shoulder, flowing hair tickling your cheeks and neck lightly.

✧ "One for each of us," is Faramir's joke when one of Gondor's finest medics grants you the knowledge that you are not expecting one child, but two. Your husband is there in the storms, the waves of anxiety rolling within you over being there for your twins. "You are not alone," he always reminds you, a hand joined with yours right over the twins' little hearts.

✧ If you wanted a husband who actually does his due diligence learning all he can about growing babies, birth, and postpartum care, then Faramir is another excellent choice! He’ll be spouting off facts about the whole thing ranging from what size the babies currently are to why you might have contractions after giving birth. Your mood determines whether you listen in or tell him to kindly stop.

✧ Just as with you, Faramir’s insecurities sometimes get the better of him, but they also fuel him, bringing a fire you can see to his fair eyes as he speaks with determination how he will love all his children equally.

Eomer

✧ Pride glows upon your countenance as you flit about the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the roast you'd made for dinner. A kingly feast is in order, for not only had you heard your husband performed exceptional drills this day, but you yourself are the host of something exceptional. Eomer and you have been enjoying each other's company much these days, so the news is not so much of a shock as it is a celebration, exuberance at a line enduring, two dreams fulfilled as one, especially for your husband, who speaks often of how he longs for a full, boisterous home. Six if he's lucky. Well, you can hardly wait to help him along, pulling Eomer into your arms for an enthusiastic kiss before he can even toe his boots off, and when he chuckles and asks what has taken hold of his beautiful wife you let your news fly. Shouting for joy with abandon, Eomer lifts you up into his arms bridal-style, kissing your lips again and again. Dinner is all but forgotten as he kneels before you, holding your waist and pressing kisses all over the bodice of your dress and thanking you for making his day, nay, his life, perfect.

✧ Eomer is always proud of you, but the moment he finds out you are with child that feeling swells and positively drips off of him, every outing with him suddenly seeming quite like a chance for him to show you off. An arm around you at all times, a smile of great joy and satisfaction, news shared to all who dare make conversation with you both, and even kisses in public! Eomer is simply on top of the world and not a thing will topple his spirits.

✧ As somebody who never much studied the workings of women, though, Eomer is… a bit out of his depth. You will have to teach him some things like why your emotions swing so or what to look out for to know when your water breaks. This man has been in battle, seen heads roll in the most literal sense, and yet when you describe the eventual passing of your placenta his entire face contorts in a look of horror that has you all but doubled over in laughter.

✧ “You look so beautiful with child,” Eomer purrs, “we’ll have to do this again sometime.” You smack his arm, but cannot resist giggling at the way your husband still gives you butterflies.

✧ Your new addition had not even arrived yet and Eomer is commissioning a child-sized saddle, unable to contain his excitement as he describes all their future rides to you!

✧ As you dream up names, Eomer has many suggestions from the great halls of his own people, ancestors and great warriors alike, but making considerations of your own background is equally important to him, so he is more than willing to go back and forth for the perfect solution.

Eowyn

✧ No one had thought it possible, but they should have known. Impossible was not in Eowyn’s lexicon, and that was exactly why you loved her, one part within many of why you became her wife. And now, the healer confirmed you were carrying her child. …Very well, technically her banner-bearer’s child as the two of you had been forced to get a bit creative, but to have support and help from those who had begun with such uncertainty meant the world. Even Eomer had come around, having offered similarly, but of course you had to remind him that Eowyn wanted a child of her own, not a niece or nephew! Without Guthláf’s, er, donation, you would never bear witness to the broad and beautiful smile on your wife’s face, the tears glistening in the gorgeous blue of her eyes. “A child…” “Our child,” you add, leaning forward until your foreheads touched and noses brushed, a tearful smile upon your own face as your wife gently held your waist.

✧ Having worked so many times as a nurse lends well at least to Eowyn, for she is firm and unrelenting in her urging, nay, forcing, you to rest. No ifs, ands, or buts are to be accepted from your strong-willed beauty, let her dote on you, for she does it with great pleasure. And besides, the harder you fight, the harder she'll work to keep you lain down.

✧ Understanding the pain and symptoms of your time of the month completely also translates; thus Eowyn is ready with remedies for your aches and pains, hot water and herbs awaiting you. She rarely snaps back at your moods, choosing to be silent in the worst of times because she knows. Really, she does.

✧ She cooks for you, and whether you say anything about that or not likely depends on how willing to hide your honesty behind the hormone excuse if it is not taken well.

✧ Reminds you constantly how strong you are. In your lowest of moments, the times you struggle to stand and straighten your aching spine, feeling massive and utterly useless, Eowyn is there to hold your hand and tell you that you are hosting and creating life as she so speaks. You have made the ultimate sacrifice of your body and the greatest of pain to bring just as great a blessing to yourself and your wife. Far from useless, you are divine.

✧ “What does it feel like?” Resting her head on her hand, the one that wasn’t lain against your fluttering belly, she questions you as the baby kicks. “For you?” Part of her wishes to have this experience herself someday, while another takes your descriptions with trepidation. She does not enjoy being restricted, after all.

Haldir

✧ “Lie down, please, my love.” Haldir’s concern with your sickness increased daily as did the pain of seeing you feeling so weak and ill. You tried to push through and for as much as he loved your strength, your husband was not having it this time. Pride was not worth seeing you doubled over again, whether from pain or, arguably worse, illness. You relented in the end, resting and beneath the spinning of your head at the end of the day feeling not a seed of energy to protest an inspection. Healing herbs had you perking up a bit, and perked up you needed to be when the dark-haired, round-faced healer nodded sagely and with a wide smile told you you were with child, and these early days were likely to be the worst. For the first time in days the sobs that escaped you were accompanied by a smile, your face utterly breaking as Haldir held you against his chest, weeping too and thanking you for all you would endure for this blessing.

✧ Physically carries you places as often as he can be spared to do so. Lifts you up bridal-style to move you across your home and sits you up before he feeds you. Your illness brings out a tender, caring side you have never seen in your strong, stoic husband, but it makes your heart swell that much more for him and for the life you two are to have with your child.

✧ Another symptom you experience is the aching and swelling of your feet, but Haldir sits you down facing him and makes the best work of them he can, hands gentle as always as they soothe your skin.

✧ Even in the later months as your illness abates, though, your husband remains protective as ever, standing between you and any potential harm with the fiercest look upon his face and a hand upon your middle, even if the threat is an object you’ve hurt yourself on.

✧ The way shock melts into a wide, ecstatic smile unlike your husband’s typical demeanor when the healer repeats that yes, she could definitely hear two heartbeats beside yours is worth more than any gold in the world. Haldir pulls you into his arms, chuckling deeply. You feel his head shake slightly, slowly, atop yours in wonder.

✧ When you sleep, Haldir will always be holding you close, whether it is an arm draped over your bump loosely if you’re hot or need space or else you fully tucked into your husband’s warm embrace.

Galadriel

✧ Galadriel is actually the one who assuages your worries that your dream will not come true, having full faith in you as much as the magic of this world. And she is right, of course, confidence proven in the aid you receive from a member of her guard and even the way she knows it to be true before the healer even confirms the news. As much as she jokes about seeing a glow around you, the width of her beautiful blue eyes, the shine therein, tells you that your wife is as elated to hear it beyond a shadow of a doubt as you are: you are hosting a little life for you both to nurture.

✧ You being pregnant only aids in her mysterious nature. She can be convening in a council with the wisest of minds from afar and will use you as an excuse to step away at her will. "If you will excuse me. My wife is with child." They are not even aware she is married. Some of them may not understand how it all works, but before they can ask any clarifying questions Galadriel has already slipped away to be with you.

✧ One tendency you unwittingly adopt is falling asleep in the oddest of places, your exhausted body giving out upon its own terms. Always will you wake up draped in one of your wife’s shawls or blankets, however, no matter how odd the spot.

✧ Both of you can hardly resist the allure of tiny garments, smiling every time you see them. It also rings a bell of realization within your minds as you hold a tiny gown up to your midsection. Truly as you speak, there is a tiny body within you! What magic it is to be a woman!

✧ What magic indeed, you later reflect as another pain strikes your back not long after. Hosting tiny bodies came with all the assorted blessings and curses of your kind, one not long without the other. Sighing, you make to approach the chaise across the room and soon your wife is with you, moving its drapes aside and lowering you gently to its cushions, a soothing hand tracing up and down your aching spine.

✧ "I hope she looks like you," you both turn to each other and say simultaneously, mothers' intuition firmly aligned in your hearts, from which so much love for each other pours from, Galadriel immediately drawing you closer to press her lips to the crown of your head.

Arwen

✧ Elrond had been quite hesitant about your relationship with his daughter at first- were you the best choice for her? Could someone like you keep her safe? And how, of course, would she be given the child she so desired? Questions you yourself had posed to her, but she refused to listen, telling you her mind, and heart, were sealed. Little do you know, however, that all of Rivendell would come to love you as their own, see and praise the way you cared for Arwen, and in Lindir’s case even provide the healers with a chance at you giving your wife the family you both yearned for. The moment you tell her the healers’ method worked and she is to he a mother, you both are, her features lighten, taking on the wondrous joy of youth again as she grabs your face, falling onto you with a kiss of pure love.

✧ So accusing if you've overexerted yourself, leaning in closer with a look of sometimes-teasing, sometimes-serious scrutiny. "Surely you did not carry that up the stairs all by yourself, right?"

✧ Do not even bother trying to fake feeling up to anything, whatever the task, for Arwen can see right through you and will insist you sit down, taking your hands in hers. "Rest. You have your burden- let me take the others. My heart bears no ill."

✧ Her affection gets softer, light touches to your waist and hands resting over yours. One hand upon your hip or belly and one on your shoulder as you two sway gently, foreheads pressed together.

✧ Arranging your nursery is one of Arwen's favorite pastimes: painting a gorgeous meadow mural upon the wall, stitching a soft toy to lay within the crib, asking you which fabric you prefer for blankets.

✧ Your bundle of joy can make sleep difficult, but one silver lining Arwen points out in a low whisper one morning is how many sunrises you’ve now gotten to share with each other.

Elrond

✧ Reservations about having a fourth child so long after the others disappeared every time Lord Elrond caught sight of you holding a neighbor’s child or even just showing the loving care that had him convinced he would be well even marrying a second time at all. Every smile, every sweet thing you did, all of it came back to Elrond in a rush when you told him he was to become a father again. For once he did not feel too old, too tired, nothing but the elation of his every desire unfurling to him before his very eyes from your warm embrace. To be chosen as the father to your child was the greatest honor the lord of Rivendell could imagine.

✧ Your every ailment is minimal, for Elrond knows exactly what is best for each and every one. Nausea? The perfect tea blend awaits to calm the waves you feel. Aches and cramps? Your husband is happy to give you the most heavenly massage, his hands finding every needed spot as if by magic. A swell of emotion? He does not speak unless bidden to, simply holding you through sudden waves of tears, frustration, or both until he feels your body relax against his.

✧ Being married to an elf with the gift of foresight comes with the benefit of worries soothed, but also a joke shared between you both. For many a time you teasingly chastise him not to look too far and spoil the surprise of whether you have a son or daughter on the way!

✧ Standing behind you, Elrond rests his hands around your middle and presses a kiss to your cheek. Just when you think the bliss of this moment, of having your whole little new family all together within your husband’s arms, cannot increase is when Elrond shifts his hands, taking on the great weight you carry. Peering up into his soft blue eyes, your whole body deflates in a sigh of sweet relief as he holds you.

✧ He can never truly understand your experience, but Elrond has witnessed this process. All he wishes is to tell you all your pain shall pass, even the worst memories will fade and ease, but such words will sound insensitive, so all he does is continue to hold your hand and stand proudly at your side.

✧ One thing your husband cannot resist is showering your future little one with gifts, even jewelry for when they are a bit older and the tiniest circlet to place upon the beloved head, matching Adar's perfectly.

Want to meet the little ones? Part 2 coming soon 😉

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch | Message/Reply/Ask to join 🥰

1K notes · View notes