#metallic figment
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izscha · 6 months ago
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Made a new look for Raimundo's casual outfit + Designed his Shoku warrior outfit, and also redesigned his Wudai (or I guess it's Shoku now) aura
I figured now that Raimundo is the leader, his warrior outfit would've completely changed and be drastically different from the other monks; not just from a color scheme perspective, but the general look overall. I kept the red, black and yellow (gold) color scheme from his temple outfit because, well, it makes sense. (Also the color scheme goes hard.)
For his Shoku aura, I wanted to change the color to be more of a golden yellow outline, as well as adding sparkling astral stars to help him stand out from the rest — signifying that he is the universe's chosen leader.
(Also for everyone wondering, in my headcanon and the fic I'm writing, I kept Omi's aura as blue instead of white. All is finally restored lol)
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izscha · 5 months ago
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I talked a bit about my Xiaolin OCs on this post, as well as made some sketches for them :D
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I also made this stupid animatic that explains JD's lore out of context lol
Anyone got any cool Xiaolin OC's I wanna hear about them 🥺🥺🥺
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soybean-official · 5 months ago
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Compiled the Disco Elysium style MGS2 portraits into 1 post!
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vankaar · 2 years ago
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Eddie twirled on himself to face Steve, throwing his arms around in anger.
"You're telling me that I cannot use my metal songs because you thought that the undead are pretty metal and that filtered in this shared reality and made them impervious to my fucking music??”
Steve shrugs a shoulder a little bashfully, not an easy feat while wearing full plate armor. It's not his fault Eddie pulled him into his weird fantasy mindscape. Steve likes to find the sunny side so he's kinda happy he's not strolling around half-naked anymore. The fur panties hitched like a bitch and he's really glad they were gone.
Eddie stomps around letting out frustration “Shit! Undead that are resistant to heavy metal.. Shit.”
Ok. Steve was man enough to admit that Eddie making him strong enough to bash in Vecna's face by playing that fast Dio's song was impressive.
But he's such a drama queen!
It wouldn't kill him to use something that's not metal, if that means getting out of this with all their organs still where they belong.
“Maybe you could..”
“No, nope! nonono don't say it! I know what you're gonna say, but just–don't. Don't say it.” He groaned with a hand on his face, eyes screwed shut.
Steve shook his head. Dramatic bitch.
The horde of undead was getting near, their moans and the crack of their rotten bones sickening in the silence of the night.
Steve sighed again unsheathed his morning star and started hitting the first undead in range with methodical efficiency.
Swing. Crunch. Rinse and repeat.
“umh.. Eddie? When you're ready– you know, some help would be nice,” he called out while bashing in a skeleton skull.
Eddie let out some more profanities and with a last scream of anger took up his guitar with a grimace. He started playing the first bar of a song, his expression as if in pain.
Steve looked at him with a startled laugh, eyes wide. He knew that song!
“Not. A. Word.” Threatened Eddie with a snarl.
As usual the rithmics, choirs, and all the parts of the song that Eddie wasn't performing got taken up by some local fauna, that seemed to pop out of thin air, with their tiny music instruments perfectly in tune.
It would look like Eddie were in a goddamn Disney movie if it weren't for the drums line being played by their enemies remains, using a couple of femoris as drumsticks.
That would count as metal, right?
Eddie started to sing.
“Sittin' here eatin' my heart out waitin'
Waitin' for some lover to call,
Dialed about a thousand numbers lately
Almost rang the phone off the wall”
Eddie was giving all of himself to the performance, like the pro he was, even if it wasn't his kind of music. Steve loved him a little more as he observed him shimmying his hips to the rhythm, hair swishing around.
It was stifling under the fucking armor.
“Lookin' for some hot stuff, baby, this evenin'
I need some hot stuff, baby, tonight
I want some hot stuff, baby, this evenin'”
The air in front of the undead started to shimmer and warble like the heat haze causing mirages, rising up from the asphalt in the hottest days of summer.
“Gotta have some hot stuff, gotta have some love tonight”
The scene was so surreal that Steve almost got beheaded by a skeleton as the choir made by three rabbit, a badger and a fox sang “Hot stuff” doing the silliest little dance.
He was a little bummed he couldn't give all his attention to his bard only because there were sword-brandishing zombies trying to cut off his limbs.
A pity, truly.
“I need hot stuff
I want some hot stuff
I need hot stuff”
With a thrust of his hips Eddie sent a small magic ball of fire from his guitar. The rippling air around them got lit with a deafening whoosh.
Flames roared high, licking the top of a nearby group of trees. One of his strings started glowing red, a clear indicator of an active spell.
“Wuoah! warn a man, would ya?” yelled Steve shielding his face from the scorching heat. If his eyebrows got singed they were going to have words.
A circular wall of fire sat between them and the horde of undead now. A half dozen of them didn't stop in time and walked right in, exploding in a pouf of sparks and ash. The others took some steps back from the heat and stayed there, looking at them with dead eyes. Swaying slowly. Waiting
“That's a cool trick," stated Steve with a smile while pointing at the barrier with his chin. "..but when the pyrotechnics are gonna fade we're still screwed.”
He felt a little guilty pointing out the obvious, Eddie was doing his best.
“Damn, I was hoping they would be more stupid,” said Eddie, drying some sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his blouse.
“We need a way to make them walk into the fire,” thought Steve, out loud.
Eddie tapped his lip, a mischievous smile slowly spreading on his lips. Steve wanted to grab him and taste that smile so much.
“How do ya feel about being a honeypot, big boy?” winked the metalhead twirling on himself to stop in playing position in front of Steve. Very close.
“Huh?” replied Steve unintelligently. His brain got this bug and it blue screened every time Eddie got so close he could smell him.
Eddie started directly from the chorus this time.
“If you want my body and you think I'm sexy
Come on sugar, let me know, ooh
If you really need me, just reach out and touch me
Come on, honey, tell me so, ooh”
He sang circling the other as he played and making the most over the top, silly, sexy faces.
A pink wave of glittery magic followed in his wake, surrounding Steve. The horde started to make sounds and swayed in Steve’s direction as one organism, getting near the thundering flames.
“He's actin' shy, lookin' for an answer
Come on, honey, let's spend the night together”
Eddie sang wiggling his eyebrow suggestively at Steve who answered with his bitchiest eye roll but was secretly impressed: Two of the guitar chords were glowing now, Eddie was keeping up two spells simultaneously. Not bad for someone that learned how that shit worked just that morning.
As the song continues the undead start to walk into the fire, going up in a popping series of blazers, sounding like popcorn and going out like insects fried in those bug zapper people use during summer’s nights.
Steve was glowing pink instead of violet like those lights but the concept was disturbingly similar.
When the last of the undead was gone, Eddie let out a deep exhale, his guitar stopped glowing, and everything went suddenly darker because the flames went out in a zap of red magic.
Eddie fell on his knees, propped up on his guitar, hair falling into his face. He was clearly exhausted.
Steve knelt beside him putting a hand on his shoulder
“You ok?” he asked softly.
“Yeah, yeah, give me a second. That was intense,” breathed out Eddie.
“Ok”
Steve pulled the other's bangs out of his eyes, tucking the longer strands behind Eddie's ear.
Big round eyes were looking at him with the expression of a deer caught in the headlights and Steve couldn't help himself.
“So… hot stuff, do ya think I���m sexy?” he said using an exaggeration of his most suave King Steve voice.
Eddie’s eyes narrowed and he slapped him repeatedly on the arm in a fashion eerily similar to Robin when Steve was being annoying on purpose.
Steve chuckled.
“You!!! You're on thin ice man– fucking thin ice!- he yelled, his pointer finger up menacingly like an angry teacher.
Steve saw Eddie fight the smile tugging at his lips and counted that as a win.
One day he's going to be braver and kiss this silly brilliant man.
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perry-88 · 1 year ago
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Swap thing.
EDIT: also a personality swap.
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meownotgood · 2 months ago
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arcane season 2 spoilers
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"Can you feel anything?" 
Viktor's foreign body shudders against his will; your fingertips trace down his chest, tingling, sparking, akin to little specks of light burning into his second-skin. The sound of your muddled voice barely registers. His head tosses back with a slight thud, hair fanned out as a halo. He allows your knees to bracket his waist, and keeps his arms sprawled above him — despite the aching in his dead heart to just touch you. The pulsing of the arcane beneath his system is hardly under control yet. 
It would be a risk he's willing to take, a necessary step to learn, if it were anyone else besides you. 
And Viktor does feel — so much, in fact, but it isn't anything explainable. The festering in his core, threatening to come up through his throat. The whirring, the throbbing of every muscle, rich with glowing rivers of purple. Shining with a mixture of magic and energy and his own blood. 
He's only distantly aware of your hand when it reaches his stomach, examining the juncture between cool metal and unholy flesh. Gears and bolts mimic the outline of ribs. Your touches are curious, distinctly gentle. Picking up on old habits, and trying not to break him, still. Then, your palm reaches up; it boldly cradles his cheek, brushes his pallid skin. And this, he can sense. 
It's familiar, human. Excruciatingly soft when your thumb brushes the space on his cheek, just above his beauty mark. It puts an easy feeling back in his chest, something he almost began to believe he'd forgotten. As warm as a shimmering sun, as molten as liquid gold. 
Nothing else matters but this moment, but you, and him. There is no outcome, across each expansive universe and every edge of the arcane, where the two of you would not meet again like this. You were meant to. Born and reborn to. 
Your gaze finds his, soft eyes glancing down at him, your expression crossed between pain and relief. You eclipse all of his vision: light fuzzy at your edges, your face a hazy memory that he'd still see with his eyes closed. You're a reminder of what it means to be alive. 
Viktor doesn't envy you. You've told him of nightmares, before. Dreams you had before this, of your mind putting yourself through the tragedy of watching him die ages before you truly had to. It must be difficult to see him like this, despite your best attempts to hide any uncertainty. 
Your hand shakes. He can feel it trembling, unsteady on his cheek. And every molecule in Viktor's system explodes, laced with the yearning to remember — to let hazy lovesickness swell within his palms and his new figments. To pull you closer, in an effort to convince himself you won't be taken away. 
Every echo of you is innate. Your voice, your name, your fingerprints. Your presence has the Hexcore — or what's become of him, what has embodied the Hexcore — blissfully, endlessly silent. The way you look at him, soft and brutally innocent, puts a chasmic, vivid hole in his center. Gods, you still look at him the same, just as you did when the two of you were young and innocent. The rot in him tells him he isn't worthy of it. 
Viktor's eyes swirl like kaleidoscopes. Drops of crimson swirling in pure water. Your brows pinch, a sight he finds frustrating and pretty, as you silently examine him. Emotions curl in your lungs, tearing and hungry and knife-like; stricken with attachment, or perhaps blaming yourself, Viktor figures. 
Exhaustion runs heavy in your expression, reminding him of looking into a mirror. He knows this look. You haven't slept. Haven't given yourself any form of a break, it seems.
So, he takes a chance. 
Your hand brushes some stray, messy strands of hair from his forehead, just as Viktor guides his weak arm to reach for you. You don't tense, don't move. He can hear your breathing, thinks he can still feel his. There isn't an ounce of fear in the way you look at him. You have always looked at him like he holds the world in his hands. And now, perhaps he does. 
His hand finds your cheek, same as yours. Copying, following. Thin, delicate, purple-hued fingers trace the edge of your face clumsily, still learning how to touch. Still afraid the line between hurt and healing might be blurred, and you are the one person left that he can't let get caught in the crossfire. You lean into his palm, trusting, and let go of a breath that makes your shoulders shake with the weight of it. 
Viktor thinks of crying, despite the press and pull in his chest that convinces him he shouldn't be able to. He can feel you. It isn't like the few touches he's experienced so far, or the aching, anomalous strength he's been forced to get used to. It contradicts the very constructs of everything he thought made sense. 
Your skin is so soft, sickly familiar. Viktor holds your face shakily, afraid to move. He can feel your individual atoms. Innumerable sparks just beneath his touch, galaxies upon universes of stars in your name, that beg to be grasped, possessed, cured. He cradles you with all of the devotion of a prophet, with all of the tenderness of a past friend: an almost-destiny, a saved seat at the edge of something more. 
Would clumsily pulling you in, and pressing his lips to yours feel wrong, or tangible — like nothing, or like everything? 
"Vik?" 
Your tone, sweeter than honeysuckle, sweeter than anything he might deserve, brings his vision back into focus. He blinks. Gaze never tearing away from his, your fingertips drop to thread the hard edge of his collarbone. A silent plea, can you feel this? You find each curve of his bones and his body easily, the details already memorized. Viktor senses the ghost of you, your touch gentle, something like home. 
"I'm not sure," Viktor finally answers; and the scientist, Hexgate creator, still-ambitious part of himself is hardly satisfied with that answer. His voice is quiet, distant. As though he isn't there, despite the lingering, familiar tenderness to his tone. 
The fried synapses in his brain can't yet separate a caress from a threat, he just perceives the lingering energy. He believes you could be the one to teach him the difference. 
This time, you let your palm press flat to his chest. There's a hum that attempts to mimic a heartbeat, a lack of coolness or heat. The action presses your form closer to his, guides you to lean part of your weight on him to bring your faces far too close. Sharing in the same reflection. Allowing each breath to be measured, along with every hesitation. 
What should he start with? Should he embrace you, holding you tight and close like you're sacrificial? Should he grab your hand in his, press his palm to your skin to measure your heartbeat? Lace his smallest finger with yours, to make you a promise like he used to? 
He can't promise you peace, nor the life you deserve, but if you came for him now, was it not a swear to follow him anywhere? 
There are still so many things left to feel, and every red thread has always begun and ended with you. 
Can you feel anything? 
Viktor guides a hand over yours, keeps it to his chest selfishly; he meets your gaze, he hums, "Are you eager to find out?" 
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xxsabitoxx · 1 year ago
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Pale Blue [Part One]
Geto Suguru x AFAB Pregnant Reader
READ PART TWO HERE
Warnings: THIS FIC IS CANON COMPLIANT, if you are not caught up on Jujutsu Kaisen's manga, or at the very least if you have not seen "gojo's past" you WILL be spoiled. This story contains darker themes, heavier topics, pregnancy and all the lovely details of it, and lastly explicit sexual content. Read at your own risk!
A/N: Here it is!! Part One!! This fic is super self indulgent for me and I'm very excited for y'all to read it. The idea literally came to me in a dream like a month ago and I woke up and immediately started writing. It's been a long ass time since I've written a plot heavy fic, and it's been well over a year since I've actively planned a multiple part story and gone through with it. So, this fic is kinda like... my baby lol.
Word Count: 19k | Playlist
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September 2007
Your mouth felt like chalk, hands trembling ever so slightly as you set the small wand on the countertop in your bathroom. You couldn't think straight, but that unfortunately wasn’t anything new, it had been that way for the last three weeks. Ever since he left, you had felt like your head was stuck in a fishbowl. People eyeing you with pity at the world you had been dropped into, their whispers muffled into incoherent nonsense as you walked by. Satoru was no better off, but he could at least tug his emotions off of his sleeves and place them in his heart where nobody could see them, except for you. At least you would be able to see them if he didn’t shut you out. 
Not that you had been any kinder, you had withdrawn too. 
The only one who seemed alright was Shoko, her reaction to Suguru’s deflection was nothing out of character. Not many things could shock her to her core, even something as absurd as what Suguru had done couldn’t wipe the gentle smile from her face when she saw him again. You envied her for that level of composure. You envied her for getting to see him again, just as you envied Satoru. For some reason, the man evaded you as if you were the plague. Or perhaps it looked like you were merely chasing after a ghost, a figment of your imagination. You kind of wished that it was true, that Geto Suguru had been someone you conjured up in your mind. 
But he wasn’t, he was a real, breathing human who had taken over one hundred lives…. Including his parents. The thought made your mouth taste like metal, everytime you zoned out too long and thought too hard, you’d bite your inner cheek until it bled. Three weeks later you still felt like you were moving on autopilot, the only thing that could pull you out of it would be his gentle embrace. You blinked a bit, the metallic taste coating your tongue as you unclench your jaw and look in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself, for a moment  you think you look just like him, and it's enough to steal the little air you had in your lungs. 
You had never thought you'd experience a heartbreak as severe as this one, and you especially didn’t think it would be dealt to you by Suguru. Though you saw all of the signs, the hundreds if not thousands he put out and never let you touch. No, his cries for help were always directed at Satoru. The white haired man never seemed to catch them, and if he did, he never said a thing. Suguru had refused to acknowledge his issues when he was with you, no matter how many times you tried to sit him down and get it out. He’d change the subject and move on. 
He’d sweet-talk you, making you forget why you had been so concerned in the first place because there, for a fleeting moment, was the boy you had fallen in love with two years prior. He’d fill your mind with nothing but good things, pretty noises, good feelings. Not stopping until his name was all you could utter, not stopping until you fell asleep in his arms, content and sedated. He was a master at avoidance, trying so hard to keep things perfect just for you. You were beginning to hate him for it, but even the idea of hating him made bile burn your throat. 
You were left in emotional turmoil, love mixing with hate mixing with rage and depression. No matter how many times the word hate flashed through your mind, it was never truly directed at Suguru. Rather the jujutsu world, the things they had forced upon him, the pressure he had been made to feel. You especially felt that bubbling hate for a certain man by the name of Fushiguro Toji, who caused this whole spiral. He was long gone now, Satoru had effectively put the man down and he would not be getting back up. Though it killed you to no end that he got the easy way out. You almost wished that Satoru had kept the man alive. 
You couldn’t stomach it as your back pressed into the cold wall of your bathroom, arms folded over your chest as you stared at nothing in particular. Eyes refusing to focus on anything of importance but making a point to avoid the developing test on the counter. 
Suguru had left you a note, shortly after his final conversation with Satoru. You had returned to your dorm to see it on your bed and you recognized his handwriting before you even read your name on the envelope. You could still feel your hands trembling as you ripped the paper, flinching as it cut your skin, crumbling as tears dripped down your cheeks. You read it three times before finally comprehending the words, the paper littered with tear drops and your blood. Every word was written with care, you could hear his voice as your eyes passed over each sentence, see his face before you as if he was speaking. 
It was an apology, his resolve and a goodbye all in one. Leaving you more empty than you had felt before. Still, it sat on your nightstand, you couldn’t throw it away. As if his sweaters weren’t still hanging in your closet, like the blanket he got you wasn’t still sitting on your bed. You held onto that letter like it was the last thing you had of him. Mourning him as if he had died, like he wasn’t still alive and breathing and walking around within the very city you were in now. You almost thought it would be easier if he had died. At least you’d feel some sort of closure, knowing he’s not coming back. But this, this was a form of torture for you. 
To know that you could bump into him at a restaurant, or even pass him on a busy street. He wasn’t gone, if anything he was doing better than he ever was. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and everyone else behind to pick up the shattered pieces. Still, you couldn’t hate him for that. No amount of anger would mend the torn pieces of your broken heart. You were fairly certain nothing would, the only cure was the one man you could no longer call your own. You’d spend the rest of your life with your heart ripped wide, an empty void filling the space. 
You inhaled deeply, pushing off the bathroom wall and taking a hesitant step towards the counter. The test was upside down, you couldn’t see the small little window that would show you the results, for a moment you wanted to pick it up and throw it in the trash without even looking. There was nothing stopping you from doing so either, but you held back anyways. The only reason you were taking a pregnancy test in the first place was because your period was two weeks late. You could easily chalk it up to stress, but at the same time you knew all too well that you and Suguru often went without protection. Idiot. 
Somehow, despite his inner battles, Suguru’s sex drive never slowed down. Maybe it was the craving for physical touch or maybe sex was a great way for him to forget about his issues for a while. Regardless, you had always been eager to oblige, even if it meant falling into his traps and luring your attention away from the real issue at hand. You had no idea how long it had been and if the damn thing was positive you were sure it would show up by now. So you picked it up and flipped it over in your hand, tired eyes scanning it. Your forehead creased for a moment, eyes squinting in frustration because you couldn’t tell if there was a second line or not. 
If it’s positive, it's too early to tell. Your grip tightens around the small plastic test, anger flooding your heart as you chuck it in the trash can with such force it rattles as it hits the wall. Once again you are left with uncertainty. It seemed nobody could give you a straight answer anymore. Truth be told, you weren’t sure what you wanted that test to say. The thought of being pregnant with his child would have elated you two months ago. Now the thought made your insides twist and turn, for a moment you thought you were going to puke again. At the very same time, the idea of the test being negative felt like a rug being pulled out from under you. 
As if you didn’t know that feeling well enough. 
In a twisted way, you thought that being pregnant would bring him back to you. As if it would erase every heinous crime he had committed and bring the man you loved back into your arms. You were foolish, but not foolish enough to really believe in those daydreams. You hauled yourself out of your bathroom and back into your dorm room, falling into your disheveled bed with a soft thump. His t-shirt was hanging loosely on your body, it still smells faintly of him. It’s the only shirt of his that you’d been wearing, too afraid to lose his scent on the others. 
It was still early enough for you to sleep for a few more hours before Shoko was knocking on your door and hauling you into the world. You hated it, but she assured you that you’d thank her for it in a couple months. You doubted it, and for some reason you felt like she did too. 
Your sleep was dreamless, it had been since Suguru left you. You weren’t quite sure if you were thankful for that or not. Suguru was still the last thing you thought about before falling asleep and the first thing you thought of when you woke up. His absence consumed your every thought, impossible to ignore, unable to forget. There had been a few tough nights where you dragged yourself down the hall towards Satoru’s room. The man was usually still up, sitting on his bed with a book in hand that you could tell he wasn’t reading. Just an attempt at distraction. 
He welcomes you without a word, scooting over a bit so you could sit beside him, head on his shoulder as he tosses the book to the floor. You remain like that until you fall asleep, no words spoken but nothing needed to be verbalized to understand you were both mourning the loss of a man who wasn’t even dead. In an odd way, you felt as if you were mourning Satoru as well. His smile, his jokes, the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, all of those things had dwindled. To his credit, he was managing to pull himself back together, at least better than you had been. 
A harsh knock at your door signaled that Shoko was there. You hadn’t even realized that you fell asleep, but you felt even more groggy than you had a couple hours prior. “I’m up.” It’s hoarse and unconvincing but you hear Shoko utter a small “ok”. You know she’s still there, she always waits for you to get dressed and emerge from your room yourself. If you make her wait any longer than fifteen minutes she's usually barging in herself to pull you from your bed. Your body aches as you sit up, stumbling across the room to the bathroom because you need to pee yet again. 
The air almost feels stale as you get your routine done in the bathroom, the test is still sitting in the small can beside your sink. It’s presence is heavy, to the point you question if you should take it out with you despite only having a couple tissues accompanying it. You decided against it when she knocked again. “Just getting dressed.” You mumbled softly, listening for her small “Hmph.” At least letting you know she heard you. Your uniform still felt foreign on your skin, it had for the last three weeks but you tried to ignore it. “About time.” Shoko smiled as you emerged, Satoru beside her. “Oh? You’re both here?” Your tone was questioning but not mad. 
“Yeah, Yaga said we should take the day to be normal or something like that.” Satoru drawled, circular glasses sliding down his nose as he rolled his eyes. “Us? Normal?” You snorted, pulling your door shut as Shoko began walking down the hallway. “He just doesn’t know what to do with us at the moment.” Satoru offered in a low tone, Shoko would scold him for speaking like that, especially to you. The thing is, he wasn’t saying anything that you hadn’t already thought of yourself. “I don’t know what to do with us either.” You could assume Yaga was being vigilant, the guilt of not seeing what was happening with Suguru was weighing on him too. 
The flick of Shoko’s lighter was heard as you stepped into the morning air, laughter bubbling in your chest as you looked at her. “It was killing you, wasn’t it.” Yaga had been cracking down on her bad habit, trying to limit her by saying no smoking in the dorms. “Just a little.” She teased back, inhaling deeply before blowing the gray smoke past her lips. “Shoko, gimme one.” Your eyebrow cocked as Satoru stuck his hand out. Her eyes met you for a moment before begrudgingly handing the lighter and pack to him. “New habit?” You commented softly, watching as he stuck a cylinder between his lips and held his hand up to block the flame from the wind. 
Satoru shrugged, inhaling a bit before blowing out, moving to hand the pack to you. You hesitated, the test in your dorm trash can still lingering in the back of your mind. “I’m good.” You took them anyway, handing them to Shoko. Neither of them said anything but they shared a knowing glance, they couldn’t be mad at you for trying to quit a bad habit. “So where are we going?” You didn’t like the prolonged silence as the two of them puffed away. “I didn’t think you’d want to go anywhere, but if you want we can go get breakfast.” Shoko’s eyes flickered over both you and Satoru, as if she was looking at two temperamental children. 
“Breakfast sounds good.” Satoru offered, shoving one hand in his pocket while the other plucked the cig from his lips. “It does.” You added softly, stomach turning at the very thought of food but you couldn’t let them know that. You had lost your appetite shortly after he left, but you still forced yourself to eat at least one substantial meal a day. The nausea that had settled in your gut most days usually deterred you from anything else but plain rice and maybe some soup. Still, it was food and the only thing you could keep down at that. “Alright, I’ll call for a driver and we can go get something to eat.” Shoko pulled out her phone, clicking on a number she saved. 
“You’ve been eating, right?” You jumped a little, eyes sliding over to Satoru. His tone was low, just low enough for only you to hear. “Yeah, I’ve been eating… you?” He looked the same, tall and lean with broad shoulders. Satoru nodded, pushing his glasses up to sit on the bridge of his nose. “The car will be at the gates for us in five minutes so let's get going.” Shoko started walking, like always you and Satoru followed behind her like ducklings. Satoru’s question still lingered in your mind, his ability to read your thoughts nearly rivaled Suguru. 
You had to wonder just how much those six eyes of his could see. 
The three of you clamored into the car, Satoru taking the passenger seat while you and Shoko took the back. You had no idea where you were going, not even when Shoko gave an address to the driver. It was somewhere in the city, you knew that much, but you trusted her judgment and prayed they would have something plain for your stomach. None of you spoke as the car barreled forward, your eyes glued to the surroundings zipping past you, as if you’d catch him walking down the street on a busy morning. You knew you’d always be looking for him, everywhere you went, your eyes would search for him. 
You tore your eyes from the window, glancing at Satoru in the passenger seat. You couldn’t see his eyes, but his head was turned towards the window. If you had to guess, he was doing the very same thing. Looking for someone who would never appear. Unless you were Shoko of course, you still felt your throat tighten at the thought. You knew Suguru had chosen to reveal himself to her for a couple reasons. One being that she wasn’t nearly strong enough to take him down single handedly. The other being her easy going nature, he knew there would be little to no conflict or questions to answer with her. If roles were reversed, you’d do the same. 
“Hello?” You blinked, looking at Shoko with parted lips. “You okay?” her head tilted, brown eyes lingering over your features. “I… yeah.” You swallowed, the car was still moving so you didn’t space out for that long. “What are you in the mood to eat?” She repeated the question she had asked seconds prior while you were clearly on another plane of existence. “Something plain.” You offered lamely, hands clasping together in your lap. “Plain?” Satoru questioned, eyes shifting to look at you through the rearview mirror. “My stomach has been sensitive. Plain foods are all I can really get down right now.” You shrunk into the seat. 
Shoko hummed, eyes observing you intently now. You could almost hear her silently listing all of your physical symptoms, noting in her head the various things that could cause them. Most could be answered with heartbreak, but that didn’t typically make you sensitive to certain foods. Shoko and Satoru knew of Suguru's relationship with you. They knew you were serious about each other, that you often slept in the other’s dorm depending on the day. They knew you went on dates and bought each other gifts. They knew you had long since confessed your love to one another and were not strangers to holding hands when you thought nobody was looking. 
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the two of you slept together as well. 
~
“Quiet.” You sunk your teeth into the side of your cheek, struggling to stifle your noises as Suguru’s fingers curled inside of your tight heat. “You don’t want them to hear us, right?” he cooed again, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he pressed you harder into the empty desk, nearly pushing it into the wall of the classroom with the ferocity of his hunger. 
You shook your head, not trusting your voice in that moment to make any coherent sounds. Your nails dug into his bicep, legs splayed hazardously over the sides of the desk as you used your free hand to brace yourself. Two fingers continued to plunge in and out of you, curling perfectly and sucking the air from your lungs as he found that one particular spot. 
Suguru watched in fascination, dark eyes glazed over as they flickered between his hand and your face. Each draw back revealed the slick shine of your arousal on his digits, each push forward was accompanied by a squelch. It made his throat tight, arousal making him feel hot all over as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. 
“Sugu…” You choked, face warming considerably as you realized how desperate you sounded. “Hmm?” a gentle hum, his fingers burying deep and massaging your walls until your thighs twitched. “I need you.” Your head fell back, hand leaving his bicep to slap over your mouth in an attempt to silence the cry that left you. “You…need me?” 
Those words were jarring to him, as if a chain of firecrackers had been ignited under his skin. You nodded, helpless and at his mercy as you prayed Satoru and Shoko wouldn’t wander off to figure out where the two of you had gone. You couldn’t quite comprehend what happened next, the sudden retreat of his fingers left you feeling empty, clearing your foggy mind for a second. 
They were quickly replaced with something else, something wet and soft. Your eyes widened considerably when you looked down to see Suguru on his knees, hands gripping the plush of your thighs with his face buried between. He would have given you more if it weren't for his damn pants, he was too impatient to struggle with the high waisted fashion choices he made. 
You couldn’t think again, mind immediately fogging over as you focused solely on Suguru’s head between your legs. The flat of his tongue licking up your folds before delving further, bumping your clit with his nose and earning a strangled noise from you. You bit down on your fist now, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to silence yourself for a bit. 
Suguru didn’t mind, if anything he wanted them to hear you. He wanted to see the shocked look on Satoru’s face when he realized what was happening. He couldn’t lie, this whole rendezvous had started because of an offhand comment Satoru made. One about how he was likely better at pleasing women than Suguru. You knew that's why you were in here too, you felt like you needed to thank Satoru for pushing Suguru to this point, whether that was his intention or not. 
Heat continued to build in your gut, if you could trust yourself to stay balanced you would have let go of the desk and buried your hand in his hair. You wanted to tug the silky black locks from the confines of the bun he always kept them in, watch them cascade around his handsome face and turn messy because of your fingers. Then again, that may make it a little too obvious to your two awaiting friends. “Sugu…” 
You gasped, hand flying from your mouth to grab the desk as you nearly lost your balance. Suguru had started to stand, knocking you back as his arms wrapped around your lower half in a bear hug. Suguru was standing at his full height now, your knees bent over his shoulders while only your mid-back and shoulders pressed into the desk. You could have melted into a puddle the moment his eyes met yours, his mouth still pressed firmly to your cunt. 
“Suguru…” You choked again, hands moving to grip the sides of the desk for some kind of grounding. You could feel him smirk, eyes burning into yours as his tongue lavished you. It was all too much, too lewd, too risky. Your orgasm was building faster than you anticipated, the tingling arousal shooting down your spine and making your legs tense as he teased you. You came with a choked cry of his name, eyes squeezing shut as you rode out your orgasm. 
~
“We’re here.” You blinked, eyes scanning your surroundings as Satoru got out of the car. “Are you sure you’re okay? We can get the food to go and head back to campus.” Shoko’s words were out of concern but her tone was still relaxed. “I’m alright, I could use some time in a busy space.” You lied, the quiet of your dorm room had never sounded so inviting. “Thank you.” You muttered softly to the driver, his small smile told you he was well aware of what was going on. Satoru was already by the front door of the cafe, putting out the butt of his cigarette on a nearby trash can before dropping it in. Shoko did the same, following after you as you entered. 
Satoru’s looks tended to come in handy, his glasses sliding down his nose to show the startling blue of his eyes was all that was needed to get the three of you a seat and bypass the wait. “At least you’re good for something.” You teased him, watching him roll his eyes before smiling. “It’s my duty to get the two of you quick service and good food, even if I have to whore myself out.” For some reason, that had laughter bubbling in your chest, the genuine kind. “Such a noble sacrifice.” You laughed, the menu in your hand shaking as your shoulders bounced. You were too distracted to see the way Satoru’s shoulders seemed to sag in relief as he watched you, for a moment it was like nothing had changed.
If it weren't for the gaping, empty space in the booth beside him, he would have been convinced. 
“What are you going to get, Shoko?” She was the only one actively looking over the menu. “I’m not sure yet, but they do have some options that would be easy on your stomach.” You weren’t sure why but it made your heart ache just a bit, she had been more concerned over your meal than her own. At the very same time, it made you feel small, like you were a bit of a nuisance for having stomach issues… or whatever they were… in the first place. “Oh, alright.” You focused on the menu, aware of their eyes on you as you tried to find something small but appealing. You settled on tamagoyaki and asked for it to be made on the salty side rather than sweet. 
Shoko went for a traditional meal as well while Satoru ventured into their “western” cuisine. His choice sounded so sweet that the thought of it made your teeth hurt. “I don’t know how you do it, Satoru.” you sipped your tea slowly, letting the hot liquid slide down your throat and settle in your stomach. He only shrugged, smiling softly “I’ve yet to find something too sweet for me to handle.” Normally he would have added something flirty but he decided against it. Despite knowing you and Suguru were a couple, it never stopped Satoru’s flirtatious comments. It only bothered Suguru a little bit but he knew his best friend would never cross that kind of line. 
“You may go into cardiac arrest before you meet your match, Satoru.” Shoko snorted, sipping her coffee as she took in the surroundings of the busy cafe. For a moment, you wondered if she was doing what you and Satoru had been subconsciously doing for the last three weeks. “I keep waiting for him to appear.” Your tone was just barely above a whisper, as if even bringing up his existence would cause the world to implode around you. “Me too.” Shoko spoke softly, eyes still looking anywhere but the two of you. Satoru kept quiet, face unusually somber as he sipped his coffee. “I think I’ll eventually go insane.” 
You tried to sound lighthearted but the crack in your voice gave the opposite effect. 
Satoru’s eyes flickered up at that, making your shoulders shrink into the booth. You had quickly come to learn that both of your friends were treating you like fragile porcelain. Though you partially felt the same when talking to them, especially Satoru. Despite the frequent and long nights with each other, little to no words were ever spoken. “I’m fine.” You tried, voice a little stronger than before. “We can talk about these things without falling apart.” It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than them. Before anyone could speak, the waiter was walking over with your food, effectively stopping any further discussion. 
“Satoru…” You choked as the waiter walked away, eyes focused on the sugary, gooey concoction on the plate before him. “That’s your ticket to the ER.” Shoko was gawking at it too, a bite of food already halfway to her mouth. Satoru, on the other hand, looked like a kid on christmas morning, glasses sliding down his nose with a smile on his face. Your stomach grumbled as he cut into the pancakes, the feeling making you jump just a bit. You actually felt hungry, mouth watering as you looked down at your own plate and moved to take a bite. 
Silence fell over the table as you all ate, within minutes half of your food was gone and you were quietly wishing you had ordered something a little bigger.
“You need a napkin.” You laughed softly, handing Satoru your spare napkin so he could wipe the syrup off of his cheek. “Thanks.” For some reason you couldn't help but think he looked like a little kid. For another reason you couldn’t quite explain, it made sadness sink into your shoulders. He should be here with the three of you, eating and laughing and bringing you the comfort you always looked for in him. Your hands shook as you moved to eat more, not willing to let the surge of emotion get rid of the appetite you rarely had nowadays. 
As you finished your plate, you felt the bubbling wave of nausea build in your stomach. You inhaled slowly, trying to find a way to ease your worries and keep your food down. “Are you okay? You look a little green.” Shoko eyed you with concern, not even a second later Satoru was signaling the waiter for the check. “Y-yeah… told you my stomach was sensitive. That’s the most I've eaten at once in the last three weeks.” You couldn’t stand the embarrassment of making a scene or wasting money on the food you had just consumed. “I’ll be back.” You slipped out of the booth, your friend’s concerned eyes zeroing in on you as you disappeared for the bathroom. 
Luckily for you the bathroom was empty, the fluorescent lights making you flinch as you stumbled to the sink and turned the water on cold. You leaned over it, hands and wrists submerged under the running stream, chest heaving with the effort to remain calm. You were desperate to keep the food down, so desperate you could feel sweat forming on your temple as you tried to focus on anything but the nausea. Suguru’s face flashed through your mind and for a moment you were convinced your knees would give out from under you. 
~
“I told you to take it easy.” He huffs softly, fingers running through your hair as he rakes it away from your face. Carefully, he’s looping one of his elastics around your hair to keep it in place. Your head is still buried in the toilet, you had just finished throwing up for the third time in the last hour. “Are you still with me?” His hand is on your back now, rubbing slow but deliberate circles. Feebly you give him a thumbs up, throat burning from the sting of alcohol coming back up. 
“You didn’t eat much today and then you went and got shit-faced with Shoko.” Suguru stated the obvious, trying not to scold you because he knew you weren’t doing good right now. “I don’t think you have anything else to puke up, do you want some water?” You lifted your head now, reaching for toilet paper to wipe your mouth. “Water sounds good.” Your voice was weaker than Suguru had expected it to sound, his heart aching a bit as he sat beside you on the bathroom floor. 
“I’ll be right back, okay? Just yell if you get scared and I’ll be by your side before you know it.” You nodded, thanking him softly as he got up and disappeared out of your bathroom. You were only seventeen at the time, acting far older than you were and thinking you could get away with it. Now, you are facing the consequences of being naive. Typical for someone your age. Suguru had returned in under two minutes, handing you a glass of room temperature water. “It’ll be easier on your stomach at this temperature.” He chuckled as you grimaced. 
He moved to grab a washcloth from your cabinet, turning the sink water on cold. “And this…” he wrung it out twice before turning off the water “will help focus your attention on something other than the nausea.” He placed the cloth on the back of your neck, watching your shoulders sag in relief as something finally cooled your clammy skin. “Thanks, Sugu.” 
~
“Sugu… I’m scared.” Your voice was barely audible, tears burning your eyes as you squeezed them shut. Somehow it was working, your pain outshining the nausea as you tried to stop yourself from sobbing in the middle of the restroom. A year had passed since that moment in time, you were only eighteen now and yet you felt as if you had grown a decade. Yet, you were reduced to a scared and crying child because of nausea. Get it together. You forced yourself to straighten, hands slightly numb under the current of cold water. 
You forced yourself to make eye contact with your reflection, observing how stark the dark circles were under your eyes. Shoko had been right, you did look a bit green, but it was fading steadily as everything subsided. You let your hands sit under the water for a minute longer before bending over the sink and splashing some on your face. The door to the restroom opened as you straightened again, Shoko was looking at you with worry. “Did you get sick?” you shook your head, turning the water off and reaching for the paper towels. 
“Managed to fight it off… for now.” 
“Satoru paid already, there is a convenient store a couple shops down. We can get you some nausea meds and a barf bag for the ride back… just in case.” You nodded, smiling a bit. “That would probably be a good idea.” you followed her out of the bathroom and through the restaurant, Satoru was standing on the sidewalk with a new cigarette between his lips. “Damn, you really did develop a new habit.” He only shrugged, inhaling deeply before blowing more out. “I’ll get over it at some point.” Knowing him and his will-power, he probably would. 
“I’ll call for the driver, Satoru take her to the convenient store and I’ll catch up.” Satoru nodded, saluting her with a quick “yes ma’am” before grabbing your hand and dragging you along. You didn’t speak until Shoko was out of earshot. “Do you think it’s going to get better?” You appreciated the weight of his hand in yours, though you were certain he could feel how clammy it was. “I think it’ll get more bearable with time.” not better, but tolerable. The thought had your chest feeling heavy as you stepped inside of the small store. 
“Nausea meds and barf bags.” Satoru chuckled, reading the signs above each aisle until he spotted one that seemed like a good start. “You’ll have to see a doctor if this doesn’t ease up… how long has it been going on anyways?” You shuffled behind him, arms crossing due to him letting them go a moment prior. “Shortly after he left, after I found the letter.” Only Satoru knew about the letter that had been left behind. How Suguru managed to get back onto campus and leave it in your dorm was beyond him. You had even let him read it, breaking his heart again. 
“Shoko!” Satoru called, noticing her walk down the aisle before you could even turn your head. “I’m not good with this stuff, what should we get?” Satoru had already grabbed a box of blue cylindrical barf bags for you but the actual meds were basically foreign to him. “I’ll handle it from here, Satoru. You can wait in the car, he should be upfront by now.” Satoru’s brows furrowed, so did yours, but the look in Shoko’s eyes had him shrugging and handing the box to you. “Alright then, I’ll see ya out there.” 
He whistled as he strolled by, your eyes narrowing on Shoko. “What’s this about?” you watched her shuffle through the shelves, picking up one and reading the box before setting it down and moving onto the next. “I don’t know what you mean.” She commented offhandedly, plucking another box and reading it before sighing. “This one should work.” She turned, handing it to you while motioning you to follow her down the aisle. You read it over, nothing out of the ordinary so you truly couldn’t figure out what made this one different from the others. 
You stopped short when Shoko did, eyes scanning the aisle and feeling your stomach drop. “Shoko–” You sighed, she was standing in front of the pregnancy tests. “Listen, I know it’s probably the last thing you want to even think about but I think you should take one.” She was grabbing a box of the cheap tests, the same test that was still residing in the trash can of your bathroom. “Shoko, it's not necessary.” You couldn't bring yourself to tell her you already took one, for some reason you couldn’t tell her it was negative either. 
“I’ll buy them, and you’ll keep them. If this nausea doesn’t subside in like two weeks, I’m forcing you to take them.” You felt your face burning, clutching the nausea meds tightly in your hands as you looked away from her. “Fine.” You sighed, head tilted at her shoes as you followed her up front to the register. Everything was placed neatly in a brown bag so nobody could see the contents. Once in the car, you popped open the barf bags just to keep one ready in the event your nausea returned full force. “I figured you would forget this.” 
You looked up to see Satoru handing you a bottle of water, your lips parting in surprise. “You know me well, Satoru. I did forget.” you took it from him, grabbing the box of nausea meds and ripping them open. You took them and sighed, gulping down water when you realized how thirsty you had been. “If we have nothing else to do today, I think I’ll take a nap.” You were aching for your bed, more tired now than you had been after any missions. “Alright but we’ll wake you up for dinner if we don’t hear from you.” Shoko smiled, cracking the window to light a cig. 
“It’s not even 11am yet.” you snorted. “Yeah but you can sleep like the dead when you really need it, if we don’t wake you, you’ll sleep straight through till tomorrow.” You opened your mouth to deny it, about to use your frequent bathroom breaks as an excuse but stopped yourself. Saying that would only confirm the very thing Shoko was suspicious of. “Alright, fine, whatever.” You resigned with a playful huff, arms crossing as you turned to look out the window. Luckily for you, you managed to make it through the ride without needing to use the bag. 
“I’ll see you later.” You called after them, waving as you headed for the dorms. They both waved back, finding shade under a tree to enjoy more of the sunny morning. You felt your shoulders sagging with each step, your social battery diminished far faster now that Suguru wasn’t always by your side. You had almost grown a bit too dependent on him, thinking he would be a constant in your life. You inhaled shakily, the brown bag crumbling between your fingers as your emotions bubbled to the surface yet again. You couldn't seem to get yourself to your dorm fast enough, hot tears slipping down your cheeks as you shoved the key in the lock. 
It came in heavy waves, making you feel weak as you could only succumb to the sadness festering in your chest. You dropped the bag by the door, kicking off your shoes and shouldering off your uniform jacket. Moving on autopilot, you drew your curtains shut and took off the rest of your clothing, sliding his shirt over your head until you were enveloped in his scent. You were gasping for air by the time your body hit the mattress, curling in on yourself as you sobbed. “I miss you.” You hiccuped, rubbing your eyes as if it would stop the tears. 
God dammit, Suguru, why did you have to do this?
You buried your head in your pillow, trying to drown out your own feelings before sadness turned to anger and you ripped your whole room apart because of it. 
~
“Stop wiggling so much.” His voice sounded like gravel, rumbling the back of your head as he spoke. “Can’t help it.” You retorted, trying your best to settle into a comfortable position. Suguru had you wrapped in a bear hug, his favorite form of affection, especially since he knew you couldn’t get out of his grasp. His arms were covered in thick muscles, something you initially didn't expect because his uniform and choice of baggy clothing typically hid them.
 You could use all your strength and his grip wouldn’t falter.  
“Why not?” he mumbled again, if you had to guess, his eyes were closed as he spoke. “Cause it’s warm, Sugu.” you were both laying on top of the covers, little to no clothing on because of the heat and the broken air conditioning that the school was still trying to fix. Nothing but an old fan swiveling side to side to create some sort of relief. Still, Suguru couldn’t sleep unless you were pressed flush to him, warm or not. “It’s not that bad.” 
“Oh it absolutely is.” you immediately countered, turning your head back to try and look at him. “It could be way worse.” he tried again, fingers thrumming against your side. “Yeah, it could, but it could also be better. Like if you let me go for example.” You wiggled a bit, trying to create space before he pulled you tightly to him again. “Nice try, it’s not happening.” You groaned, going limp in his arms as he began to laugh. “I could totally make it worse for you.” He added softly, lips ghosting your ear. Despite the heat, you shivered. 
“The weirdest things turn you on, Sugu.” 
“Hey, it’s not nice to call yourself weird.” 
You slapped his arm, earning another rumble of laughter as he moved to hover over you. “C’mon, if I make you sweat, it’ll make the breeze from the fan feel colder.” You rolled your eyes, studying his features as he looked down at you, hair framing his face and ghosting yours. “That’s counterproductive, you know.” Your hands were running up his biceps anyway, moving to wrap around his neck and pull him close to you. “Maybe it is, but you can’t say I’m wrong.” 
His head was lowering, giving into your pull with no hesitation. “You’re right, I can’t say you’re wrong. But… I want to.” You smile, pulling him further until your lips melt together. He was radiating warmth, his teeth grazing your bottom lip to ask for entrance. Your lips parted, hands snaking up into his hair and tugging at the strands until he groaned. Suguru braced himself on one hand, making the mattress dip just by your head. The rest of his weight was settled on his knees, caging your hips in so you truly couldn’t get away from him. Not that you wanted too now. 
You felt small beneath him, his bare skin radiating warmth as he used his free hand to push your shirt up. You could ignore the heat for the time being, more focused on the steady beating from between your thighs. “Sugu…” You parted with a gasp, watching him lean up and pull you with him, allowing him to drag your shirt over your head and toss it to the floor before pushing you down again. His lips didn’t return to yours, instead they moved to your neck, kissing along your pulse point until you were whining. “Quiet, baby, don’t forget we’re in my room.” 
Satoru was asleep next door, that realization set in like ice water being dumped over your head. “Suguru.” You choked as his head dipped lower, licking along your collarbone before moving to one of your breasts. He wasn’t going to answer you, and you knew that for a fact by the way his lips curled into a smirk against your skin. “You’re evil.” You gasped, hand fisting his hair tightly as he scraped his teeth along your breast, nipping at the soft skin. Your other hand found its home on his shoulder, nails scratching lightly as his muscles flexed under your grasp. 
You sunk your teeth into your cheek when his lips wrapped around your perked nipple, arousal making it pebble slightly as he sucked. Suguru’s tongue lavished your skin, flicking the bud until your back was arching into his touch. It wasn’t nearly enough, your breath coming out in short pants as you tried to pry him off and focus on your other breast. “These would look so pretty if they were full of milk.” You choked, eyes wide as he looked up at you through his lashes. “Don’t you think?” You couldn’t breathe for a moment, stunned into silence by his comment. 
“C’mon baby, don’t act so shocked.” He cooed softly, the tip of his tongue trailing up your sternum. He didn’t stop until he reached your lips, kissing them softly before dipping his head again. His hand toyed with the breast he had just teased endlessly, brown eyes observing the rate of your breathing before lowering onto your other breast. He repeated the same motions, nipping and sucking the senstive skin until you were squirming from the wetness between your legs.
“You haven't answered me, sweetheart.”
“B-because I don’t know how to answer that, Sugu.” You knew exactly what he was implying, but you couldn’t form a coherent response for him. “You just have to tell me if you agree, it’s pretty simple.” He chuckled, pushing himself up to look down at you. Your hands fell to your sides, his neck just out of your reach. “Just think about it, pretty girl.” You watched him, completely entranced as he pulled his briefs down and his erection sprang free. “Because I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” 
“You have?” You sat up a bit, fingers shakily pulling off your own underwear to save time. “I have.” He confirmed, cheeks turning a shade of red that you could see even in the moonlight. His hand slid along his length, spreading the precum drooling from his tip while his boxers rested at his mid-thigh. “Take those off, Sugu.” You smiled a bit, reaching for the waistband and pulling them taut before letting them snap back against his thigh. “So demanding.” He snorted, letting himself go to push the material off, tossing it to the floor just as you had done with your underwear. 
“So are you, demanding an answer for something so…so…” you couldn’t find the right words, not when his eyes were on you, devouring you whole. “…so what? How does it make you feel?” He redirected, pumping himself leisurely as your thighs fell open for him, still supporting yourself on your elbows as you waited. “How does what make me feel?” A stupid question but you were still reeling from the initial statement. Suguru laughed, hand still gliding over his length as he sat on his knees.
“How does it feel knowing I think about getting you pregnant… all the fucking time.” You couldn’t deny the thought made you feel hot, hotter than you felt from the heat and arousal mixing. Like molten lava was running its way through your bloodstream. “F-feels fucking…” you squirmed a bit, legs moving to close involuntarily until his hand shot out and stopped them. “Go on, pretty girl. Tell me.” You sat up, glaring at him with warm cheeks. “How about you fuck me. Then, maybe, I’ll tell you how I feel about your little fantasies.” Suguru groaned, head falling forward for a moment. 
“Sounds like a good deal to me.” He moved forward, pressing you back into the mattress as he pulled your thighs towards him. Your lips found his neck, sucking on it harshly as he ran the dull head of his cock between your slick folds. You let him move you however he pleased, your legs being pushed almost painfully to your chest as he pressed into you. You gasped in unison, his cock stretching you open easily despite no prep. “Shit…” his head fell forward again, nearly bumping yours as he bottomed out, no space left between the two of you. 
Suguru stayed in place, eyes shut as he focused on the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around him, unable to stay still. Your nails dug into his scalp, pulling a groan from his lips as you tried to relax but couldn’t. He was big, bigger than any fling or partner you had in the past. No matter how easily your cunt accepted him, it still stung for the first few seconds. You had grown to love the deep ache, the weight of him inside you, the way his tip would brush your cervix depending on the position. Like now, with your legs pressed so tightly to your body. 
“Can I move?” his voice was soft, eyes peering into your own once he gained his composure. “Y-yeah.” You breathed out, the feeling of his hands on your skin still sent shockwaves of arousal through you. Especially when his grip tightened, bracing himself on you as he drew his hips back half way before rolling into you again. You moaned, eyes squeezing shut as Suguru found his rhythm, hips meeting yours with a soft slap. “D-Don’t forget Satoru is…” You wailed softly, pleasure building quickly as he moved. “I know…” 
But the smirk on his face told you he no longer cared, he’d gladly listen to his white-haired best friend bitch and moan in the morning about being woken up by you. Suguru’s rhythm only sped up, hips angling perfectly to brush along that one particular spot as he thrust into you, cock head brushing your cervix every few thrusts until your vision was blurring. The pleasure ebbing through your body was more than enough to block out how uncomfortable your current position was. 
A wet squelch started to emit between your legs, loud enough to be heard over the drone of the fan as Suguru pounded into you. “So…” he started, voice strained as sweat dripped down his temple. “... can you tell me how it makes you feel now?” You blinked, awestruck that he was still hooked on getting an answer from you. “S-suguru…” you whined, head falling further into the pillows. “I’m not letting it go…ha… Tell me how it makes you feel.” he ground out, hips slowing just a bit. When you didn’t speak, he pressed more of his weight into you so one hand could break free. 
You moaned, loud and unrestrained as his fingers ghosted across your swollen clit, the sudden contact making you see stars. “Tell me how it makes you feel.” he repeated, watching your face go slack as his fingers and hips worked in tandem. “Makes me hot…” You admitted with a heavy breath, eyes struggling to focus on him. “I want you to do it, Sugu… fuck me till I’m pregnant.” The look on his face had you shrinking further into the mattress, an almost animalistic look taking over his eyes as he stopped moving all together. “Say it again.” 
“I want you to fuck me ‘til I’m pregnant, Suguru.”  
~
You woke up in a sweat, gasping for air as you stumbled out of bed and barreled to the bathroom. You couldn’t stop the nausea this time, knees hitting the tile floor with bruising force as you heaved into the toilet. You hadn’t even remembered falling asleep, but your dream was enough to send you into a death spiral. Tears burned your eyes as the little bit of breakfast you hadn’t digested came back up. Luckily for you, you had slept long enough that your food from this morning wasn’t a total loss. Nothing more than bile was left as you finally calmed down. 
You reached for toilet paper, wiping your tears and blowing your nose until you could at least breath without difficulty. Aching, you got up, flushing the toilet and washing your hands and face. You had no idea what time it was but you assumed it wasn’t late enough for dinner if Shoko never came to wake you up. At least that’s what you thought as you stumbled back into your dorm room slightly sweaty. That’s odd… The sun had begun to set just beyond your window, your eyes flickering to your alarm clock. 7:23pm stared back at you in big red numbers. 
I slept for over eight hours? You looked for your phone, seeing the missed text from Shoko. 
Shoko: I decided against waking you up, I figured you could use the sleep. Just text me when you’re awake and I can bring you dinner
You were partially grateful for her decision, your face still warm as your dream lingered in your mind. Dreaming of the past, how cliche. You sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. You had woken up so suddenly, adrenaline blocking out the sleepiness at first. Now, your body seemed to thrum with a dull ache, the headrush coming back around to kick you while you were down. You reached over to turn on the small lap residing on your nightstand, eyes squinting for a moment as you adjusted. Your eyes focused on the brown bag from earlier, the one you discarded on your floor after coming back. 
You knew there was water in there still, so you got up and grabbed it, looking at the bag contents in disdain. You emptied it on your desk, nausea meds, barf bags and the box of pregnancy tests. You studied then as you gulped down some of the water, easing the burn in your throat. The pregnancy tests Shoko had insisted on were identical to the one you took this morning. Weirdly enough you wished she had grabbed the more expensive digital ones. That way you wouldn't have to strain yourself trying to figure out if a second line was present or not. 
“Fuck it.” you sighed, dropping the now empty water bottle in the small barrel you kept beside your desk. You still had one more test in the box from this morning, you’d take another one just because of the memories lingering on your mind. Your face felt warm as you recalled that particular night from a few months back. Suguru had been pretty adamant after that, fucking you raw and in ernest with every intention of knocking you up. You, stupidly, let him because you love him and loved the idea of having a family with him. “Idiot.” 
You scolded yourself again, ripping the foil wrapper and tossing it in your trash with the now empty box. You went through the same process as you did that morning, peeing into a cup and dipping the absorbent end into it for ten seconds before capping it and discarding the rest of the contents. You forced yourself to leave the bathroom this time, convinced it would make time go by faster. The text Shoko had sent was still left unanswered, you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel hungry at that moment in time. 
You’d text her in a little while though, or else she’d likely come breaking your door down thinking you had run away. Just then, your phone vibrated with the ringtone you had set for Satoru. You grabbed it, flipping it open to see what he had to say. On the screen there was a message from him, asking if you wanted to hang out on the rooftop to watch the stars later on. You smiled a bit, it was rare for Satoru to ask things so formally. You clicked out a message, telling him yes and that you could use some fresh air. 
It took him no time at all to send a happy emoticon, one that had you rolling your eyes as you typed back that you’d meet him at his dorm when you were ready. You backed out of the chat, eyes lingering on a particular contact, your message to him was naturally left unanswered. You had given up texting Suguru’s number when the messages no longer got delivered. You figured he’d discard his phone, throw away any direct contact he had with the three of you. You snapped your phone shut a moment later, you’d text Shoko after you got dressed.
Opening your closet was still proving to be a bit difficult, especially as your fingers trailed over the material of the clothing Suguru had kept in your room. They smelt like the laundry detergent he used as well as his cologne, it took your breath away for a moment. You forced yourself away, grabbing some comfortable clothes that were actually yours before shutting the door. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to discard his clothing, despite knowing he wasn’t coming back to you. 
You pulled his shirt over your head, grabbing your own and replacing it. You pulled on a pair of shorts after, rubbing your face with your hands as you looked at your appearance in the mirror. No amount of sleep seemed to help the dark circles under your eyes or the sickly look to your complexion. You could only hope Satoru was right, with time it would become more manageable. You glanced at your alarm clock, 7:48pm stared back at you now. The sky outside your window had turned indigo, the sun minutes away from being completely out of sight. The summer was coming to an end, filling your chest with melancholy.
You couldn’t stand being alone in that moment, grabbing your phone and shoving it in your pocket as you made a beeline for your door. You made your way down the hall, remembering as you passed Shoko’s dorm that you needed to text her. Stopping in your tracks, you figured it would just be easier to see her in person. “Shoko?” you called, fingers tapping the door softly because she hated when people knocked too loud. “Coming.” You heard her rustling around her room before the door opened, a half smoked cigarette hanging from her lips. 
“Thought Yaga told you no smoking inside.”  
“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, and my window is open.” 
You smiled, “I’m hanging out with Satoru on the roof if you wanna join us.” Shoko exhaled, puffing just a bit of smoke in your direction. “I’d love to but I spent the whole afternoon with him ‘cause you were sleeping.” You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck “my bad.” but Shoko was waving you off. “Don’t apologize, you need sleep… I’ll trust Satoru to feed you if you’re hungry.” She smiled as you rolled your eyes “Alright alright, enjoy the rest of your bad habit and I’ll take Satoru duty.” The look in Shoko’s eyes made your smile falter for just a moment. 
They looked oddly wistful, but it vanished just as quickly as your smile faltered. “Aye aye captain.” Shoko started to shut the door as you turned to leave, watching you go for just a moment before shutting it completely. “Satoru.” You drawled, banging on his door so you could be heard over the music he was playing. “Oi, keep it down!” the door swung open a moment later, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked at you. “Ready to go?” He looked cozy in an oversized black hoodie and sweats, sunglasses resting on top of his head. 
“Sure am.” you returned his smile, the ache in your chest easing just a bit. It was more bearable when you had someone who understood the pain you felt deeper than surface level. You watched him turn, shutting off his music and the lights before stepping into the hallway. “Are we going to take the normal way or are you going to test out your blue?” Satoru’s eyes seemed to sparkle as you suggested he use his curse technique. “If you insist on blue…” You couldn’t even make a sound as his arm wrapped around your waist, hauling you off of your feet. 
In the blink of an eye, you were exposed to the cooling night air. “Damn.” You laughed as he set you down, shuffling over to the small lock box you kept up here with spare blankets and, as Shoko claimed, “necessities”...Which were just two cartons of emergency cigarettes. “Didn’t disorient you, right?” Satoru was standing on the edge, observing the glow of the city in the distance. “Not even a little, you’ve improved a lot, Satoru.” your back was turned to him, so you missed the way his eyes widened slightly, cheeks turning pink. 
“Thanks” 
You turned back to him, blankets in hand. “So…” You walked over to where he was standing, taking a seat just before the edge and letting your legs dangle off. “...So?” Satoru looked down at you, watching you settle. “Why did you want to come up here… I’d love to gaze at the stars but it’s not like we’ll actually see any with all the light pollution.” Satoru sighed, dropping down to squat beside you. “I guess I just wanted your company… ya know since you’re probably the only other person that understands this.” his tone was awkward, it wasn’t often that you were sentimental… or serious for that matter… with each other. 
“Your welcome to have my company any time, Satoru. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you.” It was so heartfelt it made you feel strange. “Sorry.” You added, a bit meeker than before when he stiffened a bit. “Don’t be sorry, just not used to being so… serious with you.”  He sat fully now, shoulder brushing yours as a silent invitation for you to rest your head. You did, just as you always had, watching the lights of the city a few miles away. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” You spoke in a gentle tone, hoping he knew what you meant. 
“It is. Knowing he’s there, that he’s okay… while we’re sitting here sulking like idiots.” There was a small bite to his tone as he finished, one that quickly left when he exhaled. “It pisses me off.” It made you upset too, anger bubbling in the back of your mind like a pot of boiling water that was going to overflow at any second. “It pisses me off too, because I truly can’t understand it. I’ve killed myself over the last three weeks trying to understand, to make sense of it. I can’t and I don’t think I ever will. But it’s not my place to reason with it, you know?” 
Satoru was silent, waiting for you to continue. “It’s not my life, it’s his. I tried for months to get it out of him, I tried so goddamn hard to get him to open up and he never did. Always redirecting, always avoiding.” You sounded defeated by the end, blinking away the tears that blurred your vision so you could regain composure. “Why didn’t you come to me?” Satoru questioned softly, letting your words sink in like an anchor. 
“He gave you so many signs, Satoru. If you couldn’t see them, it wasn’t my place to assist.” 
Satoru felt like that should have made him angry, but it didn’t. Mostly because you were right, it had been obvious from the start but he had naively pushed them to the side, pretending it wasn’t true. He was just as much at fault, if anything he was willing to shoulder all of the blame. Because at least you tried. He couldn’t say the same, and he knew that far too well. “Suguru made up his mind the moment he entered that village. There is no stopping a man who is set in their resolve. You said it yourself, Satoru. He looked healthier, happier, content.” 
Satoru took in a shaky breath, leaning into you just as you leaned into him. “I just don’t get why he needed to kill his parents.” Your eyes closed, that was the thought weighing heaviest on your mind. “He needed to prove to himself that he was doing the right thing. That nobody, not even his parents, were an exception to his newfound ideology.” It killed you to say it, especially since you had met his parents last winter break. They were kind, at least his mother was. His father was a bit colder but there was still an undeniable love for his son. They had welcomed you so openly, they were proud of the son they had raised. 
Now they were gone, nobody but Suguru was to blame. 
“In a fucked up way, I don’t care that he killed those people.” The words felt bitter on your tongue, but his letter flashed through your mind and for a moment you understood him. Those two little girls, beaten and caged, scared and facing death for things they never did. Hell, had you gone on the mission with him, you may have encouraged his choices. That realization felt weird as it settled in your gut. “I… I don’t really care either.” Satoru admitted softly, thinking back over the last year, thinking about Amanai. He had been seconds away from doing the same thing. 
But Suguru had been his voice of reason, stopping him with a simple command. It should have been obvious then, that Suguru’s life was completely altered from that moment forward. “It was so obvious.” He hissed softly, head falling forward just a bit as anger squeezed his heart. “There is nothing we can do now, Satoru. Nothing we can do will reverse the damage that has been done.” You wished you could believe your own words, part of you wanted to catch a train into the city and barrel into that religious group he took over. 
You weren’t even sure what you’d do if you did. Hit him, yell at him? Crumple into his arms like the sucker you were. Maybe a mix of all three, no, it would definitely be a mix of all three. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react if he saw you again. He made it clear in his letter that he loved you, he still loved you, he would always love you. If you made the choice to leave, would he welcome you in with open arms. Or was he resenting you already for not doing so sooner. Was he waiting for you? Or was it nothing more than sweet-talk. 
“You’re not breathing.” Satoru muttered softly, tilting his head just a bit to look down at you. “Oh…” You inhaled deeply, laughing a bit  as you exhaled “got lost in thought.” You felt Satoru relax again, head resting against yours. “I get it.” You fell into a comfortable silence, watching as the sky steadily turned from a deep blue to pitch black. There, if you squint hard enough, you could make out a couple of sparkling stars. 
You knew if you asked, Satoru could probably whisk you somewhere far away. Somewhere clear so you could actually see the stars with no obstructions. 
Yet you were too comfortable, too warm. 
Sitting where you were now was more than enough for the time being. That feeling of content actually took the air from your lungs for a moment, blinking steadily as you took in your surroundings. There was a fleeting moment where your heart felt light, that aching heaviness that had been plaguing it for the last three weeks wasn’t present. You wondered quietly if Satoru felt it too. Given the way his body seemed completely relaxed into yours, you assumed he did. 
~
You were stumbling down the hall like a drunkard. Your mind felt numb as you moved, head tilted down and expression blank. If anyone were to cross your path at that given moment, they probably would have been unsettled by the sight of you. A zombie moving on autopilot, your brain moving so quickly that it had reduced everything to a quiet, droning buzz. 
Murder. 112 people. His parents too. He’s gone. He snapped. He’s a murderer. Suguru is gone. 
Nothing made sense, not a single bit of the information you had received made any sense. The fact that Suguru wasn’t answering your frequent texts wasn't making sense. The fact that you had woken up to an empty bed wasn’t making sense. The fact that people were telling you Suguru, your Suguru, had taken over a hundred lives in the span of one night wasn’t making any fucking sense. 
Your knees nearly gave out the moment your hand met the wood of your door, pushing it open so quickly it slammed into the wall with a loud thud before coming back at you. Not that you cared, at that moment you could be set on fire and you wouldn’t blink an eye. 
You stood in the middle of your dorm room, eyes scanning the room as if it were something foreign. Nothing was making sense, not even your bed looked like your own. It was the pressure cracking down on you already, sinking its claws into your shoulders and forcing you to your knees as the weight of your new reality hit you like a freight train. You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry in that moment, too shell shocked over the report Yaga had read to you and Satoru. 
Satoru. 
You had stumbled away shortly after the report was finished, barely registering the way he had started to yell. You hadn’t looked back, but it wasn’t like either of them tried to stop you. Despite having just stumbled away from him, you found yourself moving to leave and find him again. At least you would have if your knees didn’t give out on you. You gasped, more out of surprise than pain as your legs made contact with the wooden floor. You sat there for a moment, arms feeling equally as weak as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. 
You felt your chest tighten, every breath felt strangled as you tried to inhale. A cold sweat seemed to cover your skin, fingers shaking slightly as you pushed your hair from your face. You couldn’t move, completely paralyzed by shock. It felt like your heart was shattering, every shaky inhale deepening the wound. Still, your tears would not come. Not even as black spots began to obstruct your vision, chest heaving as you began to hyperventilate. 
Despite your body vibrating in distress, you felt a nearly silent calm. Like someone had flicked off the switch and stole your ability to hear.
Nothing and everything all at once. 
~
“Hey? Y/N wake up…” You jumped a bit, hand coming up to touch the wetness on your cheeks. “You were crying in your sleep.” Satoru muttered softly, hand smoothing over your hair as he cradled you. “I-I was?” You didn’t even realize the change in position or the change in scenery. You were no longer sitting by the roof’s edge, instead you were sitting in Satoru’s lap, his arms holding you tightly as he looked at you with worry. 
“You were.” he confirmed, letting you go just as you woke up fully. “Sorry for worrying you, I was just thinking about him… it’s so strange. I’ve been having such intense dreams of the past… I've had dreamless sleep for the last three weeks… so why now?” Satoru sighed, watching you get up to stand and stretch your limbs. “I don’t know. I’ve been having odd dreams about him but I don’t really remember how most of them go by the time I wake up.”
“It’s the universe’s way of torturing us… as if we haven’t been tortured enough. Wait, how long have I been asleep?” The temperature had dropped significantly, the moon was shining high in the sky now. “About an hour or so, I was actually going to bring you back inside but you started to cry and… well here we are now.” Satoru got up, stretching dramatically as you sighed. “You’d think after sleeping for eight hours I wouldn't be tired.” 
You walked to the edge of the roof again, feet pressing firmly to the ledge as you looked down. “Being depressed will suck the soul out of you.” For some reason you couldn’t help but laugh. “You seem pretty wide awake, Satoru.” He joined you on the ledge, pushing you a bit to the side. Your training gave you quick reflexes so you didn’t flinch when he did it. “Oh please, you know I’m right.” You glanced at him, laughing softly. 
“You are, but so am I. We can be depressed morons together.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, earning another laugh as you punched his shoulder. “Touche, Gojo” 
“Yuck, never call me that again.” His face had morphed into a scowl as you used his last name. He never liked hearing you call him anything other than Satoru. “Fine.” you crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling the cool air. “I think I’m gonna go shower and maybe make something small for dinner… Just so Shoko doesn’t string the two of us up on a lamppost.” Satoru nodded, watching you step off the ledge and move about the roof to put the blankets away. 
“I’ll accompany you.” he jumped down, trailing behind you as you moved to open the door that would bring you downstairs. “In the shower? I’m flattered but–” the way his eyes rolled were enough to stop you mid-sentence. “Joking, Satoru.” he sighed out an “I know” closing the distance to haul you up. “Using the stairs is boring.” Within the blink of an eye, you were back inside and standing in front of your dorm room. 
“Text me when you’re done showering and we can go get food.” 
You nodded, one of the perks of attending school in Tokyo was the fact that the city never slept. You could go find a place to eat at three in the morning and they’d still serve you hot food. Your body sagged against the door of your dorm after shutting it. Flicking on the lights lit the room in a warm, golden glow. For the last three years you considered your room a sanctuary, it was your happy place after a long day of training. Now, it feels oddly cold. 
You walked over to your dresser, pulling the top drawer open to grab a fresh pair of underwear and pajamas for after. You tossed them on your bed, reaching down for your bottom drawer to grab a particular towel you liked. It didn’t take you long to put your hair up, not in the mood to wash it just yet, and head to the bathroom. You squinted a bit as the nearly white fluorescent lights filled the room, if you had your way you’d change them to something softer. 
It took all of five seconds for your world to come crashing down around you again, eyes zeroing in on the pregnancy test sitting on your counter. I fucking forgot about it…
You set your towel down on the counter, holding your breath as you took the step and reached for the test. You gave yourself no time to prepare, eyes scanning the results once before it hit you like a ton of bricks. You dropped it, letting it clatter on the porcelain counter as a jagged sob ruptured from your chest. Your hand came up to cover your mouth, the other resting on your chest, your heart thumping so wildly you were certain it would burst. 
There, on the test, were two lines. It was positive. 
You nearly fell forward, dropping down to the trash can beside your sink and rummaging through it without hesitation. Your fingers wrapped around the plastic test from this morning, yanking it up and looking at the results again. There, on the initial test from that morning, were two lines. You didn’t drop it this time, eyes staring at the results as if they’d change. Positive, this whole time it had been positive. You just hadn’t let the first test develop long enough. 
“When… How…” You uttered softly, the logical part of your brain screaming at you to be realistic for a second rather than acting so surprised. The irrational side of your brain was still reeling from the revelation. As if Suguru hadn’t been adamant in trying to knock you up for months. “You fucking bastard… you get your way and leave me with the aftermath.” You were struggling, there was no way you’d be able to pinpoint when it happened until you found out how far along you were. For some reason, that was what made reality really set in. 
Hot tears streaked your face, sobbing so harshly that it felt like your lungs would collapse on you. You moved in a blur, legs carrying you out of your dorm and down the hall until you were pushing open Satoru’s door. “Woah there, sounds like someone’s hun…” He looked up, the teasing tone in his voice dropping immediately when he saw the tears streaming down your face. “What the fuck happened? Are you hurt?” Satoru crossed the room in two long strides, hands cupping your face as your lips wobbled. 
You couldn’t get the words out, crying harder as he ran his hands over you searching for some type of wound. “C’mon, what happened?” His tone had more of a bite to it than he intended but you were causing panic to seep through his veins. You couldn’t breathe, legs nearly buckling under the weight of your reality. Satoru seemed to catch this, hands shooting out to support you as he brought both of you to the floor. “Y/N, please.” he urged you, throat feeling tight. 
You shook your head, still sobbing as you raised your hand meekly, the positive pregnancy test out in the open for him to see. Blue eyes widened significantly when he saw it, he didn’t even need to see the two lines to understand why you were so hysterical. “Oh…oh.” he swallowed, hand shakily taking the test from your hand to look at it. “Oh fuck.” it was just barely above a whisper, arm holding you just a little tighter as you cried into his chest. 
At least part of you was aware of the possibility, Satoru on the other hand felt completely blindsided. “You two didn’t use protection?” He uttered softly, rocking you slightly without thinking as your cries continued, you couldn’t think at that moment, unable to calm yourself down. You managed to shake your head in response, unable to feel embarrassed as you admitted to not using condoms when with Suguru. “Fuck… did you ever use protection with him?” 
He knew the answer, of course he fucking knew the answer. Suguru was utterly obsessed with you, so in love it was nearly nauseating. You shook your head again, confirming that you’d never once used protection with him. “Hey… c’mon…” he started softly when your body shook with the force of your cries but you were no longer making any sounds. He wanted to say it would be alright but he wasn’t sure if it would be. 
That answer relied on you. 
He couldn’t expect you to be alright, you had your heart broken three weeks prior by the man who often talked about proposing to you as soon as you all graduated. If those were the kind of conversations Suguru was having with him, he couldn’t imagine the conversations Suguru had been having with you. Well, that was a bit of a lie. Considering your reaction to the test results, it seemed this was a long sought after goal. Your cries were from heartbreak, not fear. 
~
“I’ve been looking at rings.” Satoru glanced up, noodles dangling half way from his lips. “Hah?” He watched Suguru grimace a bit, some broth splattering as Satoru questioned him. “I’ve been looking at rings for Y/N.” Suguru stated again, a little more cautiously now, watching Satoru slurp the rest of the noodles into his mouth. “Suguru, we haven’t even entered our third year.” 
“I know, but…” he shrugged, unable to formulate the right way to say it. “...But? You’re not even eighteen yet, neither is she.” It wasn’t that Satoru didn’t think it was okay, he just figured you were both way too young to even fathom those things. “I don’t intend on proposing to her until we’ve graduated. Listen I know it seems fast but…” Suguru's hands fidgeted with his utensils for a moment, eyes avoiding Satoru until he was ready.
“I love her, Satoru. I didn’t even think it was possible to love someone as much as I love her.” 
Satoru blinked, a bit taken back by such a bold declaration over a bowl of cheap ramen. “I’m not doubting that you love her, Suguru. I just think it’s a bit crazy to think about these things so young.” Suguru sighed, watching Satoru with weary eyes as he moved to eat more noodles. 
“We’re sourcers, Satoru. A long life isn’t guaranteed.” 
~
“Breathe, please. You’re going to pass out.” Satoru’s hand was slapping your back as you coughed, the tears had finally begun to slow but you still weren’t able to form a coherent sentence. “Please…” he tried again, watching you try your best to take a deep breath. It was followed by another, this time it wasn’t superficial. After a couple more, you were able to rub the tears from your eyes and look at him without blurry vision. 
“S-satoru I’m so so-sorry.” you hiccuped, your throat feeling raw from your crying. “You have nothing to apologize for, stop feeling like you have to apologize for everything you do.” he let you go a bit, motioning for you to get up with him and sit on his bed rather than the floor. He watched you crawl under his covers, curling up against his pillows, sniffling softly. Despite the weight of the conversation you were about to have, Satoru couldn’t help but chuckle. 
He crawled onto his bed as well, sitting beside you but above the covers. “So… I guess the best place to start is… how did this happen. By that I mean, was it intentional?” You sighed, toying with the end of his pillow case as you spoke. “Suguru had been trying to get me pregnant for months now.” You felt warmth flood your cheeks, it felt awkward admitting something like that. “I knew the bastard had a breeding kink.” Satoru said it more to himself than you, but that didn’t stop the shrill yell of his name as you slapped his arm. 
“I’m being honest! He just seemed like the type.” Satoru shrugged, holding back laughter as you rolled your eyes and settled back into sulking. “I shouldn’t be so blindsided by this, but it’s fucking ironic that he got what he wanted after he fucking left me… us.” you corrected softly, feeling selfish for being so focused on yourself when Satoru was hurting too. “The universe knows how to play cruel jokes, I’ve thought that my whole life. But, that’s beside the point. We can’t sit here and sulk over it, we need to talk about what to do next.” 
You looked up at Satoru, eyes red from crying. It hurt his heart, you looked like a kicked puppy. In that moment he realized how heavily he relied on Suguru, because even now he found himself itching to grab his phone and call him for advice. What was worse, you were now looking to him for help, when really he was just as scared as you. “The next logical step is I need to find a doctor who can run a blood test and confirm the store bought tests are accurate. After that, they need to tell me how far along I am so I can pinpoint when this happened.”
Satoru nodded, you’d both have to fill in Shoko in the morning, she’d be able to help with all the medical bits. “I… I know this seems a bit invasive so please don’t take offense… but are you going to keep it?” Satoru fidgeted a bit, eyes watching as you seemed to zone out and think. Your initial answer was yes, of course, but were you really capable of raising a baby on your own? Then again, you didn’t think you could stomach giving them away for adoption, and you certainly didn’t want to get rid of them. Not after you chased this goal for months, regardless of the way things were right now. “Yeah, as terrifying as it is, I want this baby, Satoru.” 
“Okay, so we got two of the biggest things out of the way. Now, the hardest…” you huffed as he trailed off, you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to answer the next question. “What do we do about Suguru, that’s what you’re going to say, right?” It was Satoru’s turn to huff now, nodding as he looked away from you to stare at his hands.
“He… he needs to know.” 
“No the fuck he doesn’t.” 
You both stared at each other, completely scandalized by the other’s response. “Satoru… He needs to know… he…he’s the fucking dad? How am I supposed to jus–” Satoru shook his head, hands coming up to rub his face before letting them fall back to his lap. “Suguru is a fucking criminal now, he murdered people. Hundreds of people I should fucking remind you and you just want to waltz back into his fucking life and tell him that shit?” You sat up now, eyes burning holes into his skull as you waited for him to at least look at you. “Do you hear yourself?” 
You were seething, that same anger you held for Suguru leaving was now bubbling at Satoru for uttering his name like it was pure filth. Satoru stiffened, eyes turning to glare at you. But, every ounce of anger seemed to drain from his body when he saw nothing but hurt glowing in your tired and puffy eyes. “I fucking get it, Satoru. I know what Suguru did but fuck, how am I supposed to just get over him? How am I supposed to carry his child for nine months and push it out of my body just to raise it on my fucking own and never tell him? He’s the one that wanted this in the first place!” Tears glossed your eyes over, hands shaking as they fisted in his sheets.
His mouth opened before closing again, eyes looking away from you because he knew he'd never be able to try and talk sense into you when you looked at him like that. “And what if the child is unable to see curses?” he sounded defeated. “What then, Y/N? What if you give birth to this baby and they lack the ability to see them? That baby would be the very thing Suguru hates.” You froze, it felt like someone had poured ice water down the back of your neck. “If he didn’t spare his own parents, he won’t spare his own child.” Satoru swallowed, looking like he wanted to say so much more but didn’t. He let the words hang there, heavy and dark. 
The silence stretched on between the two of you, mostly because you knew he was right. Just because both parents had the ability to see into the curse world and use curse energy, it didn’t guarantee that their offspring would also carry the same blessing. You blinked, hand subconsciously moving to rest over your stomach, as if it would do anything to protect them. “Suguru he… he wouldn’t…” Your words were weak and at that moment Satoru couldn’t bring himself to really fight with you. “But he would, y/n that’s the fucking issue, he would.” his voice was breaking, unsure if he should say what he wanted to say next. 
“Then what am I going to do?” You were going to dissolve, tears burning your eyes again as the harsh reality began to sink in. “Let me help you, let me help you raise the baby. I can easily provide for the two of you.” He turned to look at you now, eyes burning with such intensity it stole the air from your lungs. “What?” you hadn’t meant for it to sound offended, you were shocked to say the least, but still the hurt that flashed through his features made you feel the urge to reach out and hug him. “Satoru I didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh…” You moved forward, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and hugging him. 
It took a second but his arms came up to wrap around your middle, holding you tightly. “It’s okay, it was a bold statement to make so suddenly.” he soothed you when really you felt that you  should be the one soothing him. “No it’s fine, really it just caught me by surprise and…” you hugged him a little tighter, burying your face in his neck. For a moment you nearly stiffened, that was something you usually did to seek comfort from Suguru. In that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, finding comfort in Satoru’s reassuring embrace. “You don’t have to answer me tonight.” He hushed you, hand coming up to smooth your hair as he kept you close. “I doubt you have an appetite now, how about we just sleep?” 
“I still need to shower.” You pulled away, laughing softly when you remembered what you had been in the process of doing before your world flipped. “Okay, then go and shower but please come back to me when you’re done.” His tone was quiet, something in it held no room for you to disagree. So, you let go of him reluctantly, nodding as you crawled over him to stand. “Again, you don’t have to answer me tonight, or tomorrow, or even next week. But please, think about what I said.” He stayed on his bed, watching you shakily grab the pregnancy test before heading for his door. “I will, Satoru. Keep my spot warm.” you smiled at him over your shoulder, heart still heavy as you disappeared through the open door. 
The hot water on your skin wasn’t enough to wash away the dread growing in your chest. You found your hands absentmindedly running along your abdomen, still finding it hard to believe something was there, something that would grow into a living breathing human in a few months time. A mix of you and Suguru, how strange. This wasn’t how you imagined it would happen, nor were these the feelings you expected to experience when the time came. If anything, it made you more upset. You should be happy, you should be fucking estatic. You should be basking in the euphoric state of knowing you’d be having a child with the man you adored. 
Instead, you had sobbed in the arms of his best friend, completely hysterical. And the man you loved had no idea you were even pregnant, that the very thing he wanted had been achieved and he wouldn’t even get to know. At least not yet. You had taken Satoru’s words into consideration, of course you did. But in the back of your mind, you knew there was no way you’d be able to go on with your life without ever telling Suguru. He would know, he would know of his child, you were already set on that. You twisted the knob, the water turning off a second later as you got out and dried yourself off a bit before wrapping the towel around you. 
Your body was aching from the events of the last few hours. Returning to Satoru’s room and sleeping in his warm bed sounded like heaven to you. Sleeping next to someone again felt like heaven to you. You had to wonder what Suguru would think if he knew you were sharing his best friend’s bed – albeit nothing sexual was occuring between the two of you. And even then, Suguru had broken up with you in that letter, you were technically no longer his. The thought made you feel sick as you reached for the clothing you had laid on your bed. You pulled the shorts on first, reaching for the oversized shirt second, trying to ignore the nausea building in your gut. 
You moved around your room without thinking, flicking the lights off before heading out the door and back down the hall. Satoru had changed into his own pajamas, hair damp from the shower he must have taken while you went to take yours. He only had his bedside lamp on, the pace beside him vacant and waiting for you. “Are you sure you don’t want food?” he questioned softly as you shut the door behind you. “I’ll eat a good breakfast if my morning sickness allows.” Those words felt foreign, referring to your nausea as morning sickness felt so bizarre. “Alright but if you wake up in the middle of the night starving don’t hesitate to wake me up.”
You laughed softly, huffing out an “okay” as you crawled over him and under the covers once more. Satoru pulled the blankets up over both of you before reaching over and flicking off the light. “Goodnight.” he spoke softly, settling into his bed as you rolled onto your side to get comfortable. “Night, Satoru.” You whispered back, eyes already feeling heavy, the comfort his bed offered was no match for the gnawing reality you were facing. For now, you were thankful for it. 
~
“Think fast!” You laughed, hurtling one of the poles directly in Satoru’s direction. He turned, using infinity to block it just before it hit his face. “Nice! Your reflexes are getting faster.” You picked up another weapon, Suguru was watching you intently, an easy smile on his face. “Sugu!” You called, aiming to throw another pole. “Think fast.” you repeated, arm going back before using every ounce of strength to beeline it straight at him. Suguru smiled, summoning a curse easily to deflect it. “Not bad.” you winked, watching him roll his eyes as the curse disappeared.
“Y’all are gross.” Satoru drawled, pushing his glasses up his nose. “We didn’t even say anything?” Suguru countered, stepping out of the shade and into the sun. “You don’t need to say anything, the tension is almost unbearable.” Shoko chimed, twirling her lighter around her fingers as she watched the three of you. This time you couldn’t help but laugh, letting Suguru close the distance and wrap an arm around your waist. “See, gross!” Satoru sighed dramatically as you kissed Suguru’s cheek. “It’s called being in love, something you wouldn’t get, Satoru.” You stuck your tongue out at him, laughing as he rolled his eyes. 
“Well if you’re gonna be all gross and lovey with one another, go do it in private.” 
“Okay.” 
You and Suguru spoke in unison, a shrill laugh leaving you as he bent down and hauled you up and over his shoulder. Naturally Shoko faked a gagging noise, watching as he carried you away with a smile. “They’re so gross.” Satoru commented again, eyes following the two of you until you were completely out of sight. Though, he couldn't deny the small smile tugging at his lips. 
“Suguru.” you slapped his back lightly, he was still carrying you over his shoulder even after entering the dorm buildings. “Hmm?” he paid you no mind as he climbed the stairs, his end destination would be your dorm room… more specifically your bed. “You can put me down now.” You knew he wouldn’t, so you opted for running your hands along his back, feeling his steps falter for a moment before composing himself. “I’ll put you down when I’m good and ready.” 
You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his ass. “Alright, that's it. You’re getting punished.” His words were very matter-of-fact, so much so that you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Okay dad.” Suguru didn’t miss a beat, stalking down the hallway towards your dorm room. “Yeah, I’m trying to become one so it would help me out if you cooperated.” You made a strangled noise, it had been three weeks since Suguru admitted to wanting to get you pregnant. Needless to say, he wasn’t giving up any time soon. 
“You just want a reason to fuck me.” You tried to counter, jumping a bit as he pushed into your dorm room and kicked the door closed behind him. “I don’t need a reason to fuck you, baby.” You couldn't describe the noise you made, whiplash taking over as he tossed you onto your bed. “I guess that’s true…” You pushed up on your elbows, watching him pull his white shirt up and over his head, knocking his hair out of his bun in the process. “You’ll be good for me right?” He was dropping to his knees before you, a gentle plea of his name leaving your lips.
“Atta girl.” he murmured, warm fingers hooking in the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down. You watched him with parted lips, watching the way his eyes observed you. “Already wet? How fucking filthy.” his hands splayed along your thighs, pushing them wide open so he could really look at you. “Just because I picked you up? Or maybe it was from wrapping my arms around your waist?” He teased, pulling one hand from your thigh to spread your cunt open instead. “Tell me, pretty girl… what has you so worked up already?” 
“All of it.” You’re breathless as you look at him, no shame in your eyes as you admit how badly you want him. Suguru smiled, fingers keeping you spread as he watched the arousal pool at your entrance. “All of it, hmm? I make you that horny?” His tone was light but the look in his eyes was anything but. You could feel him devouring you whole. “Yeah, you fucking do.” You tried to keep your hips still, praying he’d do something other than watch you grow wetter by the second. “Tell me something, would you?” he pulled his eyes away to meet yours. 
“Anything.” You comment softly, waiting to hear what he had to say. Suguru smiled, fighting the urge to reach up and tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.” His voice was barely a whisper, pupils blown wide as he looked at you. You audibly groan, face feeling warm as your head falls back. “Eat me out, Suguru.” You drawl, no longer embarrassed by the things he makes you say. “As you wish.” He couldn’t even tease you for such an honest answer. Suguru’s head dipped lower, tongue licking up your inner thighs, teeth grazing the skin eagerly. 
“Sugu…” You whined out, his lips growing closer to your aching cunt. “... can I suck you off after?” 
Suguru’s whole body jolted as you uttered those words, mouth moving to lick and suck along your folds as his honest answer. You took that as a yes. You couldn’t help but squirm as his hands began kneading the flesh of your thighs, all the while his tongue was lapping at your cunt. Each movement sent electricity up your spine, one hand shakily reaching out to hold his head as his lips wrapped around your pulsating clit. “Oh fuck… Suguru…” you were embarrassed by how quickly he had learned to make you cum, the pressure already building in your gut. 
He didn’t slow, rather he slipped two fingers into your slick entrance and scissored them in time with his sucking. He loved to put on a show for you, going as far as to slurp your juices just so he could hear you cry out. You couldn’t think straight when his tongue was wiggling against your clit, stopping every few seconds to suck until your back arched. Suguru continued this until he felt your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling harsh as your moans turned into breathy gasps. He pulled away with a slick pop, smiling deviously as your head shot up to glare at him. “Suguru!” You wailed, letting go of his hair angrily. 
“Not yet, I don’t want you coming yet.”  
“No fucking fair!” you whined, head falling back against the mattress in defeat. “So selfish.” Suguru laughed as he pushed himself off the floor, now making a show of pulling the rest of his clothing off. “There goes your chances at getting head.” you chided, watching as that shit eating grin remained on his lips. “You think this is funny!” you whined again, the echoes of your denied orgasm making you close your thighs to try and alleviate the pressure. Suguru watched you, cock throbbing as he kicked his pants off the rest of the way and tossed them to the side. 
“I do think it’s funny, mostly because you look so cute when you’re so worked up.” his hands wrapped around himself, pumping languidly as you spread your thighs again, eager for more. Suguru smirked, always defiant until his cock was out. “Nah baby, I don’t think you deserve this right now.” he continued to stroke himself, head falling back just a bit as his own aching arousal was finally being relieved. “Sugu…” you choked out in a hushed whisper, mouth watering as he let out a breathy sigh, fingers toying with the sensitive tip. You were regretting your earlier statement. 
“Sugu…” you spoke softly, watching him lift one leg to plant his foot on the mattress, hand still gliding along his shaft as his jaw slackened. He ignored you, continuing to get himself off. He was waiting for you to do something, that realization had you pushing yourself up, pulling your shirt up and over your head and tossing it to the ground. You pulled your legs off the side of the bed, maneuvering yourself until you sat on your knees before him. “Let me suck you off.” breathless, hands folded neatly on your lap as you waited for his response. 
Suguru smiled at you, watching the mattress move as your hips squirmed. “I thought you said the chances of me getting head were gone.” he teased, hand massaging just before the head of his cock, making his own voice falter as he spoke to you. “I never said that.” which was kind of true, you didn’t say those exact words. Suguru cocked an eyebrow, unable to maintain his stern demeanor as your tongue moved to wet your lips, eyes completely focused on his fist. “Please, your hand is so boring Suguru, especially when you could have my mouth.” you tried again, eyes sliding up his torso, admiring the dips and plains of his muscles. 
“When you put it like that, it’s hard to say no.” he murmured softly, letting his cock go. You scooted closer, until your knees were nearly off the edge of the mattress. “Thank you.” You whispered softly, watching his face flush a shade of pink, eyes quickly looking away from you to try and regain some sort of composure. The first touch was always enough to make him weak in the knees, your tongue gliding gently over his weeping tip before lowering to the underside of his shaft. He met your eyes, face still flushed as you looked at him with such adoration. All the while your mouth was doing sinful things to him, your duality was enough to induce whiplash. 
His fingers came up to rake through your hair, guiding you as your jaw slackened, head moving to engulf him in the wet heat your mouth had to offer. “Oh fuck…” Suguru choked when you didn’t stop moving, throat constricting as your nose brushed the unruly mess of black hair at his base. You held yourself there, drool dripping down your chin as your cheeks hollowed. Slowly you dragged yourself back, watching the shiny coat of saliva covering his shaft in your wake. You repeated those motions, finding a comfortable place to bob your head at, his length heavy on your tongue. “So good for me… fuck you’re so good for me… I don’t know what I did to deserve you…” 
You merely hummed, ignoring the slow but steady ache building in your jaw as your hand moved along his shaft. You could tell he was starting to really feel it, his cock twitching every few motions, head tilted back as his eyes fluttered shut. You had to admit you were impressed he managed to stay on his feet. Most times, when Suguru dared to eat you out while you were standing, you were nearly a dead weight in his grasp by the end. The only thing keeping you up was the wall he stuffed you against and his shoulders because he tossed your legs over them. You stopped when you felt him twitching violently, jaw clenched tight as his head shot forward to look down at you.
“Gonna make me cum, pretty girl.” He choked out, hands cupping your cheeks to guide you as you moved your head again. Your hands shot out, holding his thighs tightly as you let him use your head how he pleased, guiding you to a pace that made your eyes water before he stilled all together. You forced yourself to relax as Suguru spilled down your throat, letting you greedily swallow all of it before pulling off of him with a lewd pop. “Fuck…” he nearly fell into the bed, dick still hard as he crawled onto the matress with you. “How about we do this…” he sounded breathless, laying on his side and guiding you to do the same. You knew what he wanted, swollen lips parting as you sighed, settling with your back just barely touching his front. 
You let Suguru grab one leg, lifting it up slowly to create enough space for himself. “Lazy boy…” You teased over your shoulder, letting his arm hook under your neck, large hand resting on your chest. “Maybe I am, but you fucking love it.” You couldn’t complain, not when he was angling his hips and pressing the weeping tip of his cock at your entrance. He pressed into you, adjusting both of your bodies until he found a comfortable position to properly rut his hips into you. All you could do is let him, whining loudly as he split you open, stuffing you full. “How’s that, hmm? Does it feel good?” Suguru whispered against your ear, panting as your walls constricted around him and tried to push him out at the very same time. “F-feels so good…so good…” You whined loudly. 
Suguru didn’t give you a verbal response after that, instead focusing all of his attention on finding a good rhythm to fuck you too. You couldn’t stop the noises that spilled past your lips, each drag of his cock in and out of your heat was enough to make your vision blurry. It took everything in you to at least keep your head up, tilted downwards to watch where he disappeared and reappeared between your legs.  “Suguru…” a breathless plea, one that turned into a steady mantra as all you could think about was him and what he was doing to you. Had you not been so overwhelmed you would have heard his quiet grunts of praise each time your bodies connected. 
Suguru watched a shaky hand slide down your front, in your whimpering daze you managed to slip two fingers down there to rub sloppy circles on your clit. “Gonna cum, aren’t ya?” Suguru gasped, his cock twitching violently as your cunt suctioned to him, nearly making his thrusts falter. “Y-yeah…” you managed to get out, no longer having the strength to keep your head up. You let it fall, resting snuggly in the crook of the arm he was using to support you. “Then come for me, pretty girl. I wanna feel you come all over my cock… then maybe I’ll fill you up, yeah? You’d love that…” you responded with a loud whine, walls fluttering around his length each time he pushed it back in. 
“There we go, come for me.” He encouraged again, warm breath ghosting the shell of your ear and earning a shiver in response. You could feel it, the aching build of a damn that was on the verge of breaking, every breath you made was nothing but a labored pant. Your heart was beating erratically, just as you were about to fall over the edge, Suguru gasped. You couldn’t help but gasp with him, his release pumping into you, hot and sticky. “F-fuck sorry…” he grounded out, his own orgasm sneaking up on him and completely catching you by surprise. Not that it mattered to you, that strained and embarrassed apology was all you needed before you felt yourself coming as well. 
You both essentially collapsed, Suguru holding you tightly as he angled himself to remain inside of you, to keep his cum inside of you. “You okay?” he mumbled softly, hand lazily reaching for the one you had used to rub your clit and bring it to your lips. You whined as he popped the shiny fingers in his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue. “Yeah, I'm good…great really.” You chuckled, eyelids feeling heavy as he hummed. “Good.” he mumbled softly, pulling your fingers from his mouth to kiss them gingerly. “You know I love you, right?” Suguru’s voice was tender, so tender it nearly pulled the air out of your lungs. “Yeah, of course I know that Sugu… you know I love you too, right?” 
“I know.” was all he said in reply, you had to wonder why he was suddenly so sentimental. Suguru was typically softer with you after sex, aftercare was one of his specialties. But something about his tone felt different, something about his question felt like there was more meaning behind it. You had been noticing the bags under his eyes for the last few weeks, but every time you asked he always brushed you off. “Is everything okay?” you tried to turn your head to look back at him, but the angle he had you in proved to make movement difficult. “Mmhmm, just want to make sure you’re okay.” but he hadn’t  been that rough with you. “Yeah, I’m okay… but you haven’t answered me.” He stopped kissing your hand, setting it down gently as he moved to kiss your shoulder. 
“I haven’t?” 
“I asked you if you were okay.”
“Well, I did answer you. I said yes.” he didn’t sound offended, more or less he sounded amused. “Mmhmm isn’t a yes, Suguru.” You, on the other hand, sounded a little less enthused. “I’m okay, baby. Is that better.” you couldn’t see it but you could hear the smile on his lips. “Yeah, that’s better.” But for some reason, you couldn’t shake the worry clinging to your heart. 
~
“Hey… hey…” you woke with a gasp, eyes wet as you tried to remember where you were. “You okay? You started crying in your sleep again.” A worried but groggy voice was speaking to you, one that was familiar but your brain couldn’t seem to catch up. “Y/N? It’s me, it’s Satoru.” There it was, you nearly fell back into the pillow with relief as he spoke. “Shit I’m sorry… I was dreaming and it just… fuck it felt so real. I couldn’t remember where I was…” you wiped your eyes, slowly adjusting to the dark room again. “It’s okay… you’ve been dreaming a lot.” Satoru sighed, he remembered you saying that your nights had been pretty dreamless for the last three weeks so why was that changing now? 
“I know… it just started happening too. Maybe it's because of the baby.”
Your hand lowered to your stomach, palm resting flatley against it. You still couldn’t process the fact that there was something in there, something that was growing, a mix of you and him. “Can pregnancy make you dream more?” Satoru chuckled, blue eyes shifting to read his alarm clock. It was just past four in the morning. You had slept pretty well until a few minutes ago. He had been watching you, woken up by your body growing restless. He woke you up the moment he heard you start to sniffle. “I dunno, maybe.” you sighed, eyes feeling heavy again. “Sorry for waking you, Toru.” You didn’t hear the way his breath hitched, your yawn effectively shutting it all out. 
You hadn’t called him by that nickname in weeks, he hadn’t really realized how much he missed it. “Don’t apologize, I told you to stop that.” Not stern, just tired, he wanted you to go back to normal but he knew that was impossible. Things would never go back to how they were. “Oh, yeah… I guess you have told me that.” You chuckle, turning on your side to face him in the dark. “I won’t apologize for forgetting this time, okay?” You grinned, eyes closing and unaware that he was able to see it in the dark. “Okay.” He sighed, a grin creeping up his own face as he let his eyes shut again. Hopefully you’d sleep through to his alarm at 8:30am, you had a busy day ahead. 
~END OF PART ONE~
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Thank you for reading! I hope you look forward to part 2 <3333
Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated ;3
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months ago
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I’m depressed…act three better bring home my baby girl or I swear- I need to post Viktor fluff to keep my sanity.
You’ve had been overly affectionate with Viktor as of late, not that he was complaining as he found himself more than complicit in just letting you hold his face and kiss it senseless, all the while running your fingers through his hair that had grown a couple inches.
‘You’re so beautiful and pretty it should be fucking illegal.’ You murmured against his cheek as you kissed his jawline and down his neck, feeling the cool metallic skin greet your lips deliciously the thou couldn’t help but take a little nibble, which was a foolish thing to do on your part as your teeth did barely anything other then make a chuckle leave Viktor’s lips.
‘Did you just try to bite me?’ He asked humorously, his brow raised as he looked at you with a smile stretching across his face. You pouted as you rested your head against his, fiddling with the strands of hair that touched his shoulders, just to make sure this man was real and not a figment of your imagination.
‘Yeah.’ You pouted.
‘Didn’t go to plan did it?’ He inquired, knowing the answer way before you said it.
‘No..it kinda hurt my teeth to be honest with you.’ You huffed and Viktor couldn’t help but chuckle at your inherent adorableness as he pressed a kiss of his own against your forehead, breathing you in as he often found that a weight was taken off his chest whenever he got these soft, sweet moments like these with you.
‘My silly, silly love.’ He whispered against your forehead, kissing it again and then at brief time before pulling away to rest against you. ‘Always know how to make me smile and forget my worries don’t you.’ You smiled as you cuddled up to him, kissing his shoulders and neck before resting your head there and just letting this calm moment sink into your skin, and smiling to yourself as you appreciated having Viktor by your side to share this moment with.
‘I try my best for my beautiful hard working man.’ You replied as you lifted a hand to his chin, moving his head towards you as you kissed Viktor on the lips, humming in content as you pull away. ‘I love you my dear heart.’ You add softly.
Viktor lifted a cool hand to hold you by the chin, keeping you in place as it was his turn to kiss you sweetly on the lips and smiling whilst doing so before begrudgingly pulling away. ‘I love you too my beloved.’ He said and you both fell into a comfortable silence as you enjoyed the presence of the other on a day as beautiful as this one.
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kasagia · 3 months ago
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Skin and bones
Pairing: Halbrand/Annatar/We know who x fem!elf! reader Summary: Ever since Galadriel revealed Halbrand's true identity, you've been having some very strange dreams… dreams that aren't the innocent figments of your imagination you thought they were. Warning: I HAVEN'T WATCHED THE RINGS OF POWER. All my knowledge is based on fanfics, short scenes posted on yt and uncle google. I just couldn't get this guy out of my mind... And I don't regret anything. Inspired by: David Kushner - "Skin and bones" Halbrand's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist
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"Y/N…" A cold shiver runs down your spine as you feel HIS hot, quiet, velvety whisper in your ear. You keep your eyes tightly closed, not wanting to see what image your mind, tired from today's meetings, has put before you this time.
For days now, your imagination had been tormenting you with strange dreams. Dreams in which you were haunted by him.
Halbrand.
You avoided speaking his true name. Somehow, the face of the one you should have hated with all your heart did not match the face of the one who had spent so many weeks by your and Galadriel's side.
And it scared you immensely. So much so that you weren't sure you could pretend to the light elf that you were haunted by the shadows of your past.
Galardiel once told you that to know true light, one must touch the darkness. But what do you do when that darkness becomes more attractive than light? What do you do to resist that magnetism? How do you enjoy the glow of pure light on your skin again when you still have spots of darkness on you in the shape of HIS fingerprints?
"Y/N." Another whisper, another brush of warm air against your cool skin, this time on your neck. Goosebumps rise up your spine, your hand shakes uncontrollably, trying to desperatly grasp something you can't see. "Let go. Just let go. I'm waiting here for you. With open arms, mime írima kal (my lovely light)."
The feathery touch of HIS lips against your earlobe sends a shiver through your body. Even though you are in complete darkness, you are perfectly aware that he is near, that his presence is right next to you.
Physically you could be miles away from each other but spiritually... spiritually he has made sure that he will haunt you every night.
"You miss me. You miss the feeling of power I gave you. The darkness you could hide in, when you were too tired of playing the hero no one appreciates as they should. Just as I miss your light. Your laugh. Your mind. Your lips. Your body..." His lips move with each sentence down your cheek and to your neck, leaving a gentle kiss as if he was appreciating your skin and paid tribute to it.
He was right. You missed this. Him. He was addictive. And like any addiction, you should cut yourself off before it goes too far... but hasn't it gone too far already?
"Do you think you can hide from me? That any elven friend of yours could disrupt my vision of you? That I would stop watching you at night in the darkness of your chambers, waiting for the moment when you finally realize that the cold you feel is caused by my lack of physical presence with you? Tell me, my beautiful, stubborn elf, when will you realize that the warmth you long for is found in my darkness and not in the light of your golden sunlight?"
You gasp as HE suddenly grabs you by the neck and uses his fingertips to force you to turn your head towards him. His mouth attacks yours with a huge force of possessiveness, anger, frustration, lust, as if he were going to conquer you by using only his soft lips and a silver-tongue trained over the centuries he spend on seducing others to his will.
And you promised yourself that you wouldn't be the next victim of his games and manipulation.
That's why you let him kiss you. Not because you enjoy it and miss the feeling of his lips on yours. You tangle your hands in his hair, shivering as you feel the cold metal of his spiked crown against the pads of your fingers.
You managed to let his guard down, letting his tongue tangle with yours in a familiar, passionate dance you used to indulge in when you knew him not as a Dark Lord but as a mere blacksmith. An electric jolt runs through you, stealing all the air from your lungs and making your mind cloud with lust—but not strong enough to make you completely forget about your plan.
Before he can realise it, you bite his lower lip and push him away from you. You summon all your power that he hasn't timed in your sleep and push him out of your unconscious mind. You can hear his loud growl of rage and the clang of his metal armour against the rocks as you fall into nothingness.
A loud thud echoes through the room you and Galadriel have rented as you fall from the small bed onto the wooden floor. You groan, propping yourself up on your elbows and cursing under your breath as you wake up from yet another dream HE has taken over.
"Another one? Which one is it this week? Third?" You sigh at the question from the elf sitting on the bed across the small tavern room. You nod reluctantly and stand up, dusting off the dust and dirt from the floor.
"I'm not counting. I lost count about a two months ago anyway." You mumble, ignoring the fact that these dreams started much earlier. You turn your back to her, hiding the blush that blooms on your cheeks as you remember how… naughty your dreams were.
Before you realized that your… night visions weren't just yours, you and he… were doing all sorts of things. Most of them weren't really things you could speak about out loud. And as much as you're ashamed of them, you have to admit they were the best nights of sleep you've had since… you found out the truth about him.
"I keep wondering how he creates this connection with you? It's a bridge that shouldn't be created without… the willingness of both sides."
“It’s Sauron.” You reply, making sure to pronounce his name with just the right amount of disgust in your voice. "He has powers that allow him to break the rules. You know that."
"Still… they shouldn't be that strong."
"Are you suggesting something, Galadriel? Do you think I would really seek him out willingly? He has deceived us. He has deceived you and me. He wants to destroy Middle-earth, do you think I would willingly seek contact with him for any other purpose than to finally kill him?"
Your accusatory tone comes out a little stronger than you intended. You wrap your arms around yourself and take a few calming breaths, trying to calm the anger boiling inside you.
"I trust you. If I trust anyone, it's you, Y/N. I'm not your enemy here." She responds calmly and walks over to you. She cups your cheeks in her hands and rests her forehead against yours.
"I am highly aware." You respond and place your hands on the sides of her neck. "I'm just... tired. That's all." You sigh and rest your chin on her shoulder, snuggling into her.
You hold each other like that until she gently pulls away from you. She grabs your hands and looks you in the eyes.
"We all are. War is coming. Darkness is descending upon more of our lands. But together we will prevail. Sun and moon. We must work together if we are about to defeat him and Morgoth." Galadriel spoke, tightening her grip on your hands.
"I know." You mumble and shake your head. You remove your hands from her grip and turn to face the window, watching the sun slowly rise. “Which doesn’t mean he won’t see it coming. Because he will. We have to move faster, think five step ahead than he does if we want the light to break through his army of darkness.” You say not turning to face her since you're too afraid of what she'll find in your eyes. Galadriel sighs but doesn't try to catch your attention anymore.
"I guess we won't get any more sleep tonight. Get ready. I'll go find Erlond." She looks at you a little longer, her gaze burning on your back, but you stubbornly stare out at the valleys lit by the glow of the sun breaking through the morning mist, not yet feeling ready to face what is outside.
You breathe a sigh of relief as the door closes behind her. You turn one of the rings forged by HIM, which you have placed on your necklace, in your hands, quietly wondering if you should really do what you were about to do. But since he's decided to play dirty against you for weeks... you might as well start returning his little blows, too.
You close your eyes and place the ring on your finger. You hold your breath as the familiar surge of power makes your blood pump a little harder and your eyes sharpen to your surroundings. The outlines of the valleys in the distance become much clearer, and you can almost smell the forest that lies miles away.
You know he can sense where you are if you let him. So you take a little risk and remove the protective shield that keeps you away from him. And Sauron bursts through your slightly ajar door as if into a rabbit hole.
"If you're out there somewhere… if you can hear me… know that you've given me enough darkness to rip your black heart from your chest without blinking, mime melin cotumo."
Maybe calling him your dear enemy wasn't the best thing to end your threat, but the only thing that could leave your lips when you addressed him were such nicknames. Never the names you knew him by. Especially the name under which he hid when you so naively gave him part of your heart.
"Are you, Y/N?"
His whispered question echoes through the empty room. You immediately throw him out and slam the door on his ghostly presence, blocking his vision of you again. You want to celebrate this small victory over him, showing him that you are still in control, but you both know it's just an illusion. An illusion you're desperately trying to fall for. Unfortunately, you guess you're not as good at them as he is.
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"I don't like him." You say to Galadriel, eyeing Annatar carefully.
You held little Celebrían in your arms and watched as Celeborn, Celebrimbor, and Annatar chatted in the distance, enjoying the party Celebrimbor had thrown for your arrival.
"He is… quiet around us. But that doesn't mean we have to be hostile towards him right away. We can't be overly suspicious." Galadriel says and takes her daughter from you, who begins to cry quietly. You sigh, looking at the child in her arms.
"In these times we can be as suspicious as we want, Galadriel. Middle-earth is even more divided; we elves do not have such a solid, strong united front. If Sauron decides to attack with his orcs, they will crush us one by one. We must act, not be stuck in pointless parties."
"Parties are also part of diplomacy. I'm off to melt the hearts of the ladies of other lands with this sweet little bundle. Try not to spit venom at others. We need allies, as you well noticed." And with that, she leaves you to drown your bitter thoughts in a glass of wine completely alone.
You snort, not paying attention to what's going on around you. The ring that hangs around your neck under your clothes burns your skin mercilessly as you try with all your might to push away the memories of the nap you took after arriving.
Warm, black furs clung to you as you slept soundly in your soft bed. In the background, you could hear the crackling of the fire burning in the fireplace. You were tucked into warm pillows and blankets, the tip of your nose exposed to the cool air outside, being the only thing that was bothering you from resting in your bed.
After a while it turned out that it wasn't just one thing that was supposed to bother you.
You gasp as a strong arm suddenly wraps around your waist. The blankets are lifted, and the cool air assaults your skin, sending goosebumps up your spine. A moment later, you feel yourself pressed against someone's bare, muscular chest.
"Is my queen comfortable enough?" He whispers teasingly in your ear and nuzzles your temple, tightening his grip on you as you try to squirm out of his arms. But he doesn't give you that chance.
He grabs both of your wrists and presses them to your chest as he straddles you. Black fur clings to his back, the only covering he's wearing.
"Do you intend to defile me in your dreams when in reality you cannot lay even the smallest fingertip upon me? You grow more pathetic with the passing centuries." You growl at him angrily, kicking beneath him and trying to break free from his grip.
"You will beg for my touch. I will make your cries heard throughout all the Middle-Earth." He murmurs a promise against your lips and leans down, capturing your lips in an aggressive, passionate kiss that sets every fiber of your being on fire.
The surroundings around you change rapidly. Suddenly, you are completely alone in a black and gold throne room. The only source of light is the rays reflected off a golden throne engraved with a sun.
You glance around frantically, searching for him and a weapon you could use against him. You take a few steps back, heading unconsciously toward the two thrones on the dais. You gasp as your foot touches the tiled mechanism beneath you.
The throne room begins to change, darkness giving way to light, the black marble turning white. But the entire chamber, instead of being divided in half by two colours, blends into grey. The golden throne turns white, and the black as night one becomes a lighter shade of black, almost greige. You turn your face to the landscape outside the window and gasp at what you see.
All of Middle-earth. Divided, but still... a coherent whole. Each of the lands was arranged so as to separate races that got in each other's way, where conflict could arise. The lands of the Orcs were in a barren wasteland, where life could not have arisen anyway, but they made their kingdom on it. All separated from each other by walls of mountains so high that even from the height where the palace was located, it was difficult to see the top of their mountains and the paths of the passes.
You shiver as the heavy, cool metal of the crown settles against your temples. He quickly grabs your shoulders and digs his fingers into you. He holds you against him, forcing you to stare at the land before you, a land you barely recognise anymore.
"We could have that. All of that. I would place a crown on your head, make them all bow to you. Make them bow to us. I would heal Middle-earth of strife and war, make them all live in harmony in their own worlds."
"Would you confine them within the boundaries of their lands? What if they run out of space? Would you move mountains? Would you remake the world? You won't fix them this way; you can't avoid wars and bloodshed. Who do you think you are to decide how the world is suspposed to look like?" You ask him angrily, turning in his arms.
You bravely hold Halbrand’s watchful gaze as he analyses your words carefully, probably thinking of ways to make you join his side, ways to make you see his case in a completely different light.
And you hope you'll have the self-control to reject every single one of them - every little tempting suggestion of the future he wants to show you.
"Amil! (Mommy!)" The joyful cry of a child and the dull thud of tiny feet hitting the floor later are the only warning you get before something small pounces on your legs.
You stubbornly don't look down, but into the eyes of the man in front of you, because you know that once your eyes land on the little projection of a child he wants to show you, you'll be haunted for the rest of your life by the image of what you could have had with him.
“You won't even look at our son, Y/N?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you, daring you to show him how much you don’t care or care about the future he has to offer you.
So you gather all the strength you have inside you and lean down to take the little boy into your arms. He mumbles something, playing with the necklace around your neck.
The boy has his dark hair. And your eyes. And he's too damn cute for you to ever forget the vision he shows you, that he created to torture you forever.
"How long would it take you to instill your dark, poisonous thoughts in him?" You ask with a trembling voice, giving him a look full of pain and dismay.
"I've told you many times, mime melin hon. With you by my side I would have no darkness within me." He mumbles and reaches up to stroke your cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I will make you mine. Even if it was the last thing I would do. With or without your consent, I will bind you to me and make you who you were always meant to be: My queen."
You shiver as he places a tender kiss on your forehead. You hold back a broken sob as the weight of the baby on your hip begins to fade and his touch becomes just a hazy memory as you wake from this beautiful and terrifying dream.
“Can you do me the great honour of dancing with you, my lady?” You shiver when you suddenly hear someone's voice next to you. You turn around and barely keep a grimace from forming on your face when the platinum hair of the hated elf catches your eye.
"Lord Annatar. I thought you weren't dancing tonight?" You say in a forced, pleasant tone of voice and nod towards the elf whose invitation to dance he declined. He becomes embarrassed at this and clears his throat awkwardly.
"I simply have been saving my first dance in the hope that my lady of the sun would consent to grace me with it." You present him with your practiced smile, internally cursing him for being so thoughtful with his choice of words. Refusing him would be like spitting in his face - something Galadriel would clearly disapprove of.
"How could I be so cruel in this situation and refuse you, Lord of Gifts?" You tease him flirtatiously, seeing an opportunity in his obvious little affection, and offer him your hand.
You tremble as an electric shiver suddenly runs through you. The strange reaction to his closeness makes your brain buzz with thoughts. Especially when the ring hidden under the material of your dress begins to heat up.
"I may be… but right now I feel like I've received the greatest gift from you, my lady." He says, placing a soft kiss on the top of your hand. He confidently leads you onto the dance floor and pulls you close, wrapping his arm around your waist and being a little too close than was required for this particular dance.
His closeness overwhelms you. Not in a positive way. He seems suspiciously too familiar. Your body doesn't react to him as to a stranger; on the contrary, you immerse yourself in his touch as if it were familiar, comforting. You sense that something is wrong, but you can't say what yet.
"Do you like the rings we've been forging lately? Galadriel probably won't be too keen on his... idea."
"Because he follows in Sauron's footsteps. Perhaps we can dissuade him from this path. Together." You see his jaw tense slightly at your words. His grip on you tightens a little and he seems... flustered.
You narrow your eyes at him slightly, trying to understand his reaction, as well as why with every little touch he makes the ring on your chest burns like it's on fire.
"I truly believe we would be a great unit, úrin-o i world." You tremble when he calls you the sun of the world just as you tremble when he places his hands on your hips and lifts you.
He's in no hurry to put you down. It's as if he was deliberately prolonging this moment, and you let yourself be caught in the hypnotized state that his eyes bring you to.
For a moment, nothing exists except the two of you. It's just you and him. The dancing couples swirling around you momentarily become a blur.
You gasp when, for a moment, instead of Annatar's face, you see Halbrand. His mesmerising blue eyes pierce through you, making it all you can do to lean closer to him.
Your vision ends the moment one of the couples crashes into you. You land awkwardly on Annatar's chest, only his arms keeping you from falling. The couple apologizes and he just nods, pulling the two of you to the sidelines to a more secluded place.
You sigh, staring at him, your breathing heavy, not from the exertion of the dance, but from what you saw when you danced with him. Or rather, who.
"What are you?" You ask suspiciously, but he raises a surprised eyebrow at you, as if your sudden hostility was unfounded.
"You know who I am. Don't you, my Lady of the Sun?" You swallow hard at his question, but before you can answer him, Galadriel steps between you and him. A very angry and irritated Galadriel.
"He is of an unsound mind. How can he ignore what is so obvious? No one who follows the path that Sauron trod can call himself anything but his ally. I am leaving first thing in the morning. We cannot waste time while he is somewhere nearby, preparing an army against us."
"Perhaps you are giving him too much thought, my lady?" Annatar makes a sarcastic remark, but Galadriel ignores him and walks furiously away from the two of you, not even waiting for her husband, who has just reached the three of you.
"Galadriel..." You call out to her but she ignores you. "Galadriel!" Celeborn nods apologetically and follows the elf with the child in his arms. You stand in shock in the middle of the room and stare at the leaving elves.
"I don't blame them. You know what they're talking about... and about who they're talking." Annatar says, nodding at Celebrimbor. He stands alone in the corner, looking around nervously. "It would be best if you followed your lady." He advises you like a nasty snake that coils around your leg and whispers unwanted things in your ear.
You flinch and turn so you can fully look at him. He liked to play games. So he'll get one from you. You won't leave this palace without a promise from Celebrimbor to join you in case... if HE tries to attack.
Galadriel wanted to resort to desperate measures—she wanted to warn Adar that Sauron lived and wanted to use orcs in his plan to change Middle-earth. If you were to choose allies, you would rather heal the mind of an elf in whom you saw even a shred of light.
"I am my own lady. I do not have to follow anyone. Besides, I think you could use some help here, dear Annatar." You reply with a sweet smile. You see his jaw tense a little at your words. He clearly didn't want you around - that's why you had to stay here and see what the Lord of Gifts - the supposed envoy of the Valar was really doing in Eregion.
"Hm... that would be an honour to have you as our guest, my lady."
He says, smiling mysteriously at you. A shiver runs down your spine, and you already know that this won't be as much fun for you as it will be for him.
As if on cue, you drift off into blissful, dark unconsciousness.
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"Fighting by your side… I felt like I could hold onto that feeling. Bind it in my very being."
"I felt it to." You mumble, staring at Halbrand's slightly bruised and scratched face.
You often had dreams like that. Flashbacks of past events. Sometimes they were real, and sometimes he was just playing with you in dreamland again, reenacting past events and laughing in your face, mocking you as you relived the same thing.
So I guess nothing has changed… if, knowing who I am, you still kiss me with such burning passion, my sunshine.
Cheap line. You managed to punch him for it many times. But that only seems to make him more cocky. So you stopped and instead looked for some way to get out of these dreams.
But now, as he leaned down and kissed you as sweetly as he had before... you could do nothing but moan and grab his hair in your fist as you pressed yourself against him, hating every bit of armour that covered your bodies and was separating you from him.
"The Valar must have spent aeons crafting those raspberry-sweet lips." He mumbles against your lips and cups your cheek in his hand. He pushes you back gently, your back pressing against the tree trunk you were sitting on.
You pretend you didn't notice that that little comment never came out of his mouth back then, and you take advantage of his moment of distraction. You take out your dagger and press it to his neck, pushing him away from you.
He needs a moment to process what happened. He chuckles raggedly and shakes his head slightly—just enough so that your blade doesn't even scratch his skin.
"What gave me away?"
"Sweet lips?" You mock him, pinning him against the rough tree trunk.
"I tried to be romantic with you, my beloved nemesis. Almost the same as that Lord of Gifts of yours, wasn't it?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. The cocky smirk doesn't leave his face even as you straddle him with the blade at his neck. You want to pierce all of his arteries, but his comment about Annatara catches your attention more than the murderous urge he's inspired in you.
"Jealous?"
"Intrigued. Do you like him?" He corrects you and asks a question that makes you want to laugh. As if there was anyone else besides him who could hold your attention for longer…
"Are you afraid that it will take your place as the worst, most venomous snake I have ever encountered?"
"Oh please… we both know that's not the only thing I'm best at. I remember one night perfectly, when…" You press the metal of the blade to his neck and draw blood from him. A black stream runs down his skin, soaking into the tree trunk, which instantly rots. "I understand. You want to be the one to dominate today?"
You snort in frustration at him and push yourself away from him. You take a few steps away from him and watch him closely as he slowly stands up and catches up with you.
"Only if you let me plunge my blade into your black, cold heart."
"Only if you acknowledge the fact that it beats only for you." He whispers and gently cups your cheek with his hand. You tremble, unable to move away from him or make any movement except to stare at him. Anger and something else—a feeling you're terrified to admit to—boil inside you like crazy. And that's all because of him.
"As if you could love anyone but yourself." You answer shakily as he leans toward you. He kisses you again, more gently, more tenderly.
He lifts your chin with two fingers, demanding full access to your mouth, as if the way he kisses you is to prove to you that he is capable of love—that he is capable of giving himself over to a mad passion that he cannot control, as if you were truly his lady.
And it is out of fear that he will manage to squeeze out of you that little challenge that he so desires that you reach for the dagger you had abandoned earlier and brutally plunge it into your heart, bypassing the plates of your armor.
You gasp, tearing yourself out of the dream he has entangled you in, but only to find yourself in a real nightmare.
You look around in panic as you see only orcs above you. The dead body of a dark elf is being torn apart by them, as if they were performing some kind of ritual over the dead. They are talking to each other in the black language, clearly too distracted to pay much attention to you.
You reach out for their abandoned weapon beside you, but you can't move much. You groan as a foot steps on your wrist, hard enough to pin your hand in place but gentle enough not to break or crush your bone.
You lift your head and bite your lip, drawing blood when you see who is standing over you.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, my sweet nemesis." Annatar says and nods to the two orcs closest to you. They walk over and hold you by the arms, lifting you to your feet.
"Sauron." You snap at him furiously, putting as much venom and hatred as you can into saying his real name.
"Hello, darling. Many years, centuries even, but it still seems like one day, right?" He mockingly responds to your seething fury. You watch him closely and freeze when you see that he holds not only his crown in his hand but Galadriel's ring as well.
He had two of the three forged for the elves. The last one... hung around your neck. And he could have taken it anytime he wanted. But he would have to pry it off your dead body if he really wanted it.
"You were more handsome as a brunette." You spit insults at him, trying to stay as calm as you can as he begins to walk forward. The orcs lead you right next to him.
"I can transform back into Halbrand just for you. Would you prefer that, my lady?" You press your lips together in a thin line, about to answer him, but he's already using his powers, and before you can do anything, Halbrand appears before your eyes.
You turn your gaze away from him and try to focus on the burning desire to draw some blood that the orcs' touch on you inspires as they lead you toward what looks like a camp.
"I'd rather have you rotted in Mordor."
"Ahh… such ugly words on such a joyous day? After all, you don't get married every day, do you?" He asks casually, too excited for your liking; if the orcs weren't forcing you towards the large tent, you would have stopped dead in your tracks and stared at the back of his head in complete shock.
"Married?" You repeat his words stupidly. The orcs hand you to him after you enter the large tent and quickly flee at their lord's beck and call. Halbrand... Sauron sets his crown down at the foot of the makeshift bed and turns to regard you, a huge, cocky grin on his face that you once found sexy. In the current situation, it only irritated you more.
"I promised you I would make you a queen. My queen. I have a crown, an army, and land. The only thing that is missing is you by my side—exactly as the Valar planned." He’s been explaining this to you for the umpteenth time, as if you were a carefree child to whom he had to explain something in a simple, banal way. You clench your fists and take one deep, calming breath.
"I'd rather die."
"No, you don't. Don't blaspheme like that. We both know that's what you want. I'm only doing you a favour by taking away your free will, giving you the illusion that I'm forcing you to do this against your will, so you don't have to feel guilty about acting on your heart's desires." He answers confidently, stubbornly, in a tone you knew—a tone he had used a thousand times when negotiating with kings, queens, and nobles.
Back then, when you thought he was just a man, you were charmed by his chearism, his self-confidence, and his unwavering actions. Now you saw how dangerous that was.
"You don't know my heart's desires." You whisper as he stops in front of you. But he doesn't move to touch you, does nothing but stand there and watch you.
You want to curse him for turning back into Halbrand and for showing you this illusion. It was much easier for you to reject Annatar than him... ironic, since it was Halbrand that betrayed you more than any other being.
"Another lie. I think you've gotten a lot better at it than I have in my absence, my dear sunshine."
You snort when he calls you that. The moment you open your mouth to answer, he leans in and steals your kiss and your breath. He pulls you to him by the material of your dress and perfectly ignores any thumps in your chest you give him. You jerk against his grip, bite his lip, and do everything to pull away from him. But he doesn't let go. Not until you're gasping for air and your lips are swollen, your clothes and hair a mess just like all of you.
"You know... I am not surprised you lied to me all this time. I mean... living for so long can trick your mind. You probably don't know your true self anymore, do you? When was the last time someone called you by your true name? Not with insult or fear, but with affection, maybe even sympathy?"
"Why? Want to change that, I úrin -o mime coiv- (the sun of my life)?" He asks, slowly pulling away from you. You ignore your instincts to follow his touch and stand frozen in place as he walks over to his abandoned crown.
"Are you just going to rule them? In the hopes that they won't kill you again? That I won't convince them to do so?"
"Fear is a powerful ally. And something tells me you'd rather have me alive than dead." He answers calmly and places his crown on your head. You frown as the cool metal settles on your temple.
You let him play with you for a moment and treat you like a doll he can do anything to. You waited for the perfect moment to attack, to throw him off balance. You wouldn't give in to him without a fight. Not when you still had at least a shred of strength to resist the darkness calling out to you.
"Not as powerful ally as love." Your response makes him more thoughtful. He stares at you, contemplating the sight of you in his crown, as if trying to forever engrave the image in his mind… to bind it to his very being.
"Indeed. But you either have one of them." He nods and runs his fingertips over your exposed shoulder. You shiver as he grazes the metal of your necklace.
"And what did you want? From me?" You see him soften noticeably at your question. Something like affection… maybe even tenderness or love appears in his eyes as he moves his hand to your neck, cupping it gently.
"You know my heart's desire, Y/N. Just as I know yours." He mumbles your name barely audible and leans in closer to you. You shiver as his bearded cheek brushes against yours, his soft lips caressing your earlobe as he whispers: "I don't have to say it out loud for you to know it."
"No… you don't have to." You respond and cup his cheek in your hand. He freezes at the sudden display of affection from you and involuntarily buries his face in your palm, closing his eyes. You lean down and press a small kiss to his cheek. He sighs tiredly, as if he had travelled a truly polynomial distance, and allows himself to melt in your touch. "Because I'd rather cut your tongue out than listen to another lie from you."
Before he can react, you're already reaching for his dagger. You press it to his neck, but he shakes off your little seduction and pushes you away from him roughly. You fall with the yak onto the mattress behind you, the crown falling off your head with a clatter to the floor as you stare at him intently, both of you aiming your blades at each other.
"In some races dagger is considered as one of the love's language." She mocks you, wiping the black blood off his neck with her free hand. He licks it off—a demonstration at which you hold your breath for a moment. Bloody bastard.
"I always preferred to consider it death's language." You respond and lunge at him again. He blocks your blade with his own and grabs your arm. You hiss at the hard, painful swipe of his fingers against your skin as he leans toward you, giving you one of his long, enigmatic, dark stares.
"You know what the difference is between me and them, Y/N? They fear you, what you can do, the power you wield with such grace, like it's nothing. But I'm willing to burn in the light of your sun if it means having you by my side."
"Rather, if it means gaining that power for yourself." You growl and kick him. He falls on his back in surprise at your strength, which you take advantage of and run forward—straight to the exit of the tent.
You run through the camp and quickly take the ring from your neck. You put it on your finger and, using the power it gives you, cast illusions on yourself, becoming invisible to the orcs. You hear Halb... Sauron's shouts behind you, ordering the orcs to find you and bring you alive to him. He himself gives chase through the forest. And you have to admit that he is not so far from you.
You run as long as your legs give you strength. You stop in some clearing with a small stream. You try to find a safe hiding place, hide, and wait out the mad pursuit. And just when you think you've made it, he emerges from behind the trees.
"Y/N! I know you are here! I can feel you! I will always..." He pauses, his voice shaking, and you realise this is the second time you've seen him so... vulnerable and open. It's a dangerous reaction from him. Either it's real... or he's using it as a card in his game to win yet another game he's playing with you. "I would make you a queen. In a heartbeat. You don't have to do anything. Just come with me."
And you really wish it were that simple. But you don't know if you could look at yourself in the mirror if you just so blatantly betrayed them and everything you know for… him and his lies. As beautiful and tempting as they were.
"Queen of slaves like you!" You scream, comming out from your hidding place and attack him.
"Yes! I am a slave! I am a slave to you, Y/N. At least I have the courage to admit it to myself and to you. And you, my queen?" He says each sentence every time your blades strike each other with a metallic clang.
"Don't forget about Mogoth, my king." You mock him and hit him more and more aggressively, each of your blows a precise attack on him.
"You're going to bind to me. Willingly or not, and I will relish every moment of it." He growls and finally knocks the blade out of your hand, and he grabs your wrists, twisting your arms behind you and pressing your back against his chest, the blade at your neck gently teasing your skin, as do his lips against your temple. "Let go. Just let go. I know you are tired. Let me help you. Let me carry for you all your worries and the hatred of the Middle-earth. Let me make you my queen. Heal this world with me."
"Only if you will made ma a crown from your skin and bones." You gasp, fighting his grip, trying to twist from the iron grip his arms have on you, but it's not as easy as it might seem. He pins you to the ground, straddling you, and stares at you, breathing heavily.
"I will wrap you in them, if that's what I need to keep you at my side!"
His cry echoes through the empty clearing. For a moment, you stare at each other, not making a move. The sound of the stream around you is the only other song playing in accompaniment to your heavy heartbeat, which you can hear in the deafening emptiness that surrounds you. The world stops. Again, when you're close to him.
"I did not desire power as much as I desire you. You hurt me more than Morgoth ever did; you poison me more than the darkness. I think of you every morning, afternoon, and night. You are like a poison that I cannot draw from myself. You are the light that blinds me, that destroys me, but I cling to it like a child in the dark. Even though the darkness has been a much longer and more loyal companion to me than you." He mumbles, pressing wild kisses to your face.
You moan as his lips and rough beard abuse your neck worse than the blade he had brought to you moments ago, which he had driven into the ground beside you. You had nothing. No weapon to attack him with, to protect yourself from his sweet lips and the burning touch that stirred desires so shameful and so familiar in you.
"A pathological liar." You gasp as he hastily undoes your dress. But you do nothing to stop him. You can't anymore.
You feel exhausted, both mentally and physically, all the running away from him, all the fighting with him. Maybe you really were a lost cause; maybe you were always meant to blend with his darkness and try to balance it with your light. You don't know that. What you do know is that he feels too good against you for you to fight him any longer.
"Both of us. But I'm the only one here who doesn't deceive myself."
"I'd rather deceive myself than allow myself to think that I could desire someone like you." And it's awful that as you say that, you reach for him and help to undress him.
You were only proving that you really were a terrible liar and hypocrite. But how long could you hold back from touching the darkness that called out to you so sweetly?
"We both know this is much more than simple lust." He whispers, stroking your hair tenderly and pressing his lips to your forehead. His hands roam your exposed body, caressing every little part of you. And if you concentrate hard enough, you can forget for a moment who he really is—you can only see Halbrand and not HIM. "Tell me… what's it like to want to simultaneously pierce me with a sword, burn me at the stake, and cherish me in the privacy of your chambers, my dear sun?"
"Maddening." You whisper shakily, admitting what you feel.
A single tear rolls down your cheek—a tear that he quickly licks from you. He groans at the sweet-salty feeling of your tears and holds you tightly with his one arm as the other slowly begins to toy with your most sensitive place, preparing you for complete failure and defeat.
All you can feel is blissful pleasure as the darkness is touching you.
And just when he is about to bring you great pleasure, when he is about to unite the two of you as one after so long, he stops completely. You fidget, toss, and turn, seeking renewed contact with him that he does not grant you.
"I'll come for you. In one form or another. I'll make you my queen, whether you want me to or not. I may be a fraud, Y/N, but I don't have the strength to deceive myself. You'll understand when you will be my age. And I'll wait for that. I will wait for you to realise that I am the only one who sees you, accepts you, and adores you as you truly are. All you have to do is call for me." You almost cry in frustration as he pulls away from you, leaving only a ghostly touch on your skin as he continues to hold your wrists. "The sun is also having an eclipse, Y/N. I am your eclipse. And you will beg me to give you my darkness."
He places one last kiss on your forehead and then disappears. You sigh, looking around you, and realise with a shiver that he was never really there.
He tricked you. He connected with you through the ring you still wore on your finger and entered your mind as another illusion. You cry, your hand shakily pressed to your mouth as you try to keep from making any sound for fear that he and the orcs might still be nearby and sense you.
You bite your fingers as a pitiful cry wants to escape your lips; it starts as your mouth forms a cry of his name, but at the last moment you stop yourself. You grit your teeth and stand up from the ground. You dust off your dress and look around you.
The rising sun illuminates your face, but you no longer feel the familiar warmth spreading throughout your body as you greet the morning light. You feel emptyness. A festering, burning emptiness. And the visible touch of HIS lips on your neck...
Sauron may have defeated you in your dreams and mind, but when it came to duels, when you faced each other in your own skin and bones, he lost. In the crucial moments, when he was about to make you his, you managed to slip away from him. You only fear how long you will be able to do so.
Especially since he has robbed you of all joy in the light and awakened a lust for the darkness you have touched with him...
And as you stared at the rising sun, you already knew that there would be no salvation for you, nothing that would make you forget about the electric thrill you felt every time you embraced the darkness with him.
Halbrand, Sauron, Annatar, whatever form he took, you were drawn to him. And you could either die, try to fight it, or accept it and try to save the little bit of light that was left in both of you. You didn't believe that after all the darkness he'd poured into you, he wouldn't get an ounce of your light from you in exchange. And if that tormented him as much as his darkness tormented you... then you felt at least a little less pathetic for falling in love with the Dark Lord of the Rings.
506 notes · View notes
hocktuah · 20 days ago
Text
casualties
☆ n. hischier ☆
summary: you & nico agreed to keep things casual, but ten seconds into the third period of tonight’s home game & a costly injury changes the fate of your affair indefinitely. (warning: mentions of bodily injury, allusions to smut, and a reference to my blurb, ‘learning the game’ — read at your own discretion!)
genre: angst + happy ending
word count: 3.9k
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You swear the last eight seconds were a nightmare Nico would wake you up from with his husky voice and dewy lips against clammy skin. As the gaps between his eyelids remain dazed, and the grimace on his face persists, though, you find yourself pinching the skin on your forearm for confirmation. What you just witnessed on his flat screen wasn’t a figmentation—the team captain you love was undoubtedly harmed on the ice. It is a vast juxtaposition to the end of the second period, where he’d scored his second natural hat trick of his career and beamed under the rain of toques, baseball caps, and what looked to be a fairly immodest brassiere. You take no acknowledgment of the last-mentioned and instead celebrate with him as though you are in the rink with the rest of the chanting crowd. At one point, you whipped out your cell phone and texted him: So proud of you, call me when you can! <3 In the quiet apartment located on the outskirts of New Jersey, you cheered boastfully during the swap of the goalie nets, and squealed to nobody in particular, “That’s my boyfriend!”
There was nobody you could announce it to. As far as your friends and family know, your relationship with Nico hasn’t passed into the territory of exclusive, which was true at the start. A few coffee dates here, and a Sunday hike there are all that you’ve indulged their prying ears in for the last year. The late-night phone calls, extra team hoodie with his last name and number emblazoned on the back, and key to his home you now shared stayed confidential. Even Nico’s teammates–the ones he would go as far as to call “brothers”--probably knew less than your mother did.
The idea of keeping your relationship private never bothered you much, though. You’d never been the type to kiss and tell. (A hottie lamottie ice hockey captain is no exception.) Plus, Nico’s inclination to protect you from both the limelight and vulturous media teams made the option to object when he insisted it would be best for the two of you a moot point. Were you exhilarated by the late-night rendezvous spent in some hole-in-the-wall dive bar, or the thrilling mission to keep what you two had like a dirty little secret? Not necessarily. But you trust him with your whole heart, and that is reason enough for you.
★☆★☆★ ★☆★☆★
“Any reason for the undercover gear?” Nico’s eyes did all the gesturing for him as he viewed your ensemble. He vowed to be the only person present at The Prudential Center (or “The Rock” as he refers to it) for your private tour of his workplace. True to his word, the arena is soaked in an eerie silence with only two bodies occupying it. Minus the rooting fans, referees and red uniforms, it could pass for a game night. He refused to spill how he managed to have this okayed by the building owners, management, etc. You remembered him shrugging at your gawk when he first proposed it, flashing his teeth as he answered, “Perks of being captain.”
This time, it was you who played innocent. As you stared up into his curious eyes, you hoped he wouldn't read your lustful intentions easily. “Just wanted to try something new.” The khaki dress mimicking a trench coat skirted your calves as he guided you past the bleachers, penalty boxes and player seating. When you adjourned to the locker rooms, an unmistakable flare of sweat and metal singed your nostrils but Nico paid no mind to it. As long as he’d been working here, he’d probably ask what smell you’re referring to if you commented on it.
“Alright, Schatz, let’s put some gear on you and I think you’ll be ready to skate.” Nico unlatched the hinge to a spare locker, where spare padding was stowed away from prying eyes. While his back was toward you, a tentative hand began toying with the bound knot at the front of the gown. “I hope you don’t run cold, I forgot to sneak an extra pair of gloves in here since the last game. What are you wearing under there anyway?” He turned back to face you and stiffened at the sight of your naked figure, and the aforementioned dress forgotten in a pile beside you.
“Oh…” He didn’t hesitate to approach you with a slow-building smirk. Mirth lingered in his eyes as his fingers took purchase of your hips and drew your body closer to his. A chill trickled down your spine from the icy fingerprints that left indents on your skin, and you could feel your nipples begin to harden with the lack of cloth. Scratchy chuckles echoed throughout the room, as desire rolled off of you in waves. The mutual yearning was palpable in his voice.“Guess that answers my question.”
“What can I say? We wagered. And I’m a woman of my word.” A delighted hum escaped him, as he started rubbing teasing circles in the spaces of your lower ribs.
“That you are.”
The wager in question was a spur-of-the-moment stake you offered last night prior to the game. You were wishing him luck from the other side of the phone after flipping to the channel the game would be broadcasted from, and his confidence was deflating by the second as he rambled on about how the last few practice days were going awry, and the games before those were an even bigger shit show. He needed motivation, and you were elated to offer it.
“Why don’t we make things interesting?”
“What do you mean?”
Biting your lip, you asked him “Is anyone around?”
“Just me. Why?”
“Every goal you score, I’ll reward you.”
“Reward me, huh?” His voice morphed into a more uppity tone. “How so?”
“Use your imagination. And tell me what you come up with…good luck, baby.”
“Wait, Y/N-” You hung up the phone before he could ask if you were insinuating what he thought you were. No more than an hour later, he’d be scoring the first natural hat trick and beaming for two different reasons.
“I’ve thought of a few different ways you could reward me…” his hot breath and coarse mustache tickled the shell of your ear as he pressed a kiss below it. “You ready?”
“I’m all yours, cap.” Minutes later, the placid locker room was overflowing with moans and pants and other debauchery.
★☆★☆★ ★☆★☆★
“I’ll tell you now folks, this is the nastiest hit we’ve seen one of the Devils take in a while. Let’s see that again.” Per the commentator’s cue, the television and all its high-definition project the casualty from a new (and arguably better) angle. The rubber puck glides in the air of the rink after being whomped by the stick of an opposing team member. Against the wall of the rink, Nico never takes his eyes from the disc until the last moment, when a burly player sporting a jersey of differing colors checks him harshly against the bordering plexiglass, and the wobbling saucer collides into the shield protruding from his helmet.
You couldn’t hold back your wince at the gruesome replay, much like analysts who are now rattling off about a possible power play for the home team. You wish to see how bad the extent of his injuries truly are instead of what caused them with a small clue that “Hischier will be taking a visit to the sports med in the dressing room for that one.” The camera cuts back to his red jersey retreating past the stands as he clutches his side and limps away with assistance from one of the refs. When the cameraman pans over to the sanitization team scraping crimson droplets from the ice, you are already exiting the door with Nico’s car keys clutched in a fist.
Amidst your night drive to Prudential Stadium, you listen hopelessly to the radio static while flipping from station to station. The dimly lit street lamps and traffic only build your anxiety to new heights, as you cruise through any side roads at her disposal. “Come on, come on…” you murmur, unsure if the plea is for the next station to be discussing tonight’s game or hoping the wind will catch your begs and carry them to Nico’s ear. The unharmonious crackling and overplayed pop hits persist, before being broken up by two familiar voices.
“...been a monumental night for the New Jersey Devils as they’re close to celebrating the fifth win of their season.”
“Yes.” You hiss victoriously.
“And it looks like we’re still waiting on an update from the medical team on the captain, Nico Hischier, who took a pretty hard hit earlier tonight.” A knot slowly tightens in your stomach as you press your foot to the gas pedal and barrel through a yellow light. “It didn’t look pretty when he was being escorted off the ice, and I know some fans watching the game tonight are pretty devastated. The rest of the team is staying determined though, as the opposing player at fault only got put in a two-minute penalty during the powerplay at the beginning of this quarter.” Your grip around the steering wheel tightens.
“Bastard shouldn’t be allowed back on the ice at all.” You spit.
As you navigate through the congested arena’s parking lot for a free space, you feel foolish. What would he think to see you in person at one of his games? Drawing unwanted attention and interrogative questions about the relationship that neither of you had discussed proper answers to is all the reason for keeping this affair hush-hush. Would he pretend like you’re just another fan in the crowd supporting her home team? Would he drop his eyelid in a wink and skate off with a smug smirk? More importantly, what would you do in that position? How would you even get inside without a pass—
How are you expected to be let inside at all?
Before you can fall victim to a deeper thought spiral, the sound of your boyfriend’s name brings your attention back to the radio.
“And it looks like the medical team is coming to us with an update on Hischier. We’ll be back with that after these messages from our sponsors.”
“Unbelievable.” You scowl and lean back against the rough polyester car seat. The silence and not knowing are becoming torturous for you minute by minute. Sparing a glance in the rearview mirror, red watery eyes woefully greet you. “Please be okay, baby, please…” You cry out, yearning for his warm embrace or his fuzzy voice to sing you a lullaby or scruffy beard to tickle your skin in between relieved kisses. “Please be okay.” Your voice comes out raspy as you turn your gaze to the glove box. Feeling sticky and snotty from the tears, you unlatch the compartment’s handle and relish in the sight of his secret stash of drive-thru napkins. Your clammy, trembling hands grab a few for good measure but halt at the sight of a red, velvet cube peeking out of the rest of the impromptu tissues.
You peer from car window to car window, observing the empty parking lot and settling your gaze back on the box. Wasting no more time, your napkin-free hand rushes to grab it and flick on the interior light in the process. You fling the lid open and almost begin crying again. The gemstone encrusted in diamonds glints beneath the yellowed wash, and it takes little time to deduce that the ring wasn’t a simple splurge, but one of the first steps to forever with Nico.
As the commercials over the radio conclude, your phone begins buzzing in sync with it. Jumping in fright, you delicately close the box to tuck it away in your hoodie pocket. The phone illuminates the inside of the car even more with a photo of Nico taken just a month ago.
★☆★☆★ ★☆★☆★
His eyes peeled open at the sound of a camera shutter, and your whispered swears. The cool bed sheets splayed over your bodies coaxed him awake, as he exhaled sharply through his nose, and while you fiddled distractedly with the volume of your phone, Nico took the chance to tighten his hold on your hips and position himself above you. You squeaked between devious giggles, hand still clutching your phone with a small smile. He drew his face closer to yours and relished in the sweet aroma of your conditioner. In a few instances, his hair reeked of the same sugary fragrance and you had to bite back a smile at his usual excuse: “s’not my fault yours smells better.”
“Whatcha doin’?” He asked innocently.
“Nothing.” Your response was just as harmless, but his eyes flickered down to the phone being pressed further against your chest, and he quickly became skeptical. He emitted a low hum, and you bit your lip to shield a grin.
“That so?” He tried again.
“Yup.” The answer is curt and accumulated more suspicion when complemented by reddened cheeks. Another low hum escaped him as he nuzzled his bearded face into the crevice of your neck and shoulder. After he pressed a chaste kiss to your skin, he rambled something in German, far beyond your comprehension.
“Du hast glück, dass ich dich liebe, Schnügel.”
“You love me and want to…snuggle?” You tried translating anyway and earned a few quiet laughs in response. The vibration of his laughs against your body kindled a homely warmth in the depths of your stomach. You never dealt with the fabled butterflies when it came to Nico, only a burning comfort that never seemed to be extinguished.
“I want you to show me what you’re hiding.” He once again attempted to reach for your phone, which you slid beneath the pillow, barely out of his grasp.
“Uh-uh, don’t think so.”
“Is it a sequel to Hockey for Dummies?” He guessed. You scoffed and shook your head.
“Nope.”
He gasped and raised his eyebrows. Something tantalizing swirled in his eyes as he continued to prod, “Is it…a naughty picture of you?” His voice lowered to a whisper.
“No.” You whispered back and giggled, squirming embarrassed beneath him. “You got to see all of me last night, anyway, perv.”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He shrugged. “So what is it then? Do you have a secret shrine dedicated to me that you’re adding to, or something?” You snorted and rolled your eyes.
“If a couple of old t-shirts and a bottle of your shampoo count as a shrine, then yes. That’s precisely it.” He gasped.
“That’s all?” Feigning agony, he flopped down to his original spot on the mattress. Like a soldier wounded on the battlefield, his hand that was once teasing the skin around your hip reached up to clutch his heart. “Here I was, thinking you truly loved me. I have books you’ve read, a blanket you’ve knitted, even the perfume you wore to dinner last night.”
“Maybe because I brought that bottle of perfume over last night, you goof.” The knitted blanket was gifted to him last winter by her, too. You’d be more offended had he not mentioned it. Playfully, you poked him. “Anyway, I’d probably have more of your stuff to show off if you…” Your voice trailed off, as did her gaze on the comforter still haphazardly covering them. Nico knew where you were going with the sentence, though. He admitted to you and himself on several occasions you weren't deserving of the commute to his home, nor the excuses of work always getting in the way of nights they could be spending together at your humble abode. And humble, it was. The first night he stayed over at your studio apartment he felt like he’d been crammed into a pintrest-ified dollhouse. You argue that the limited space makes it more “cozy” .
“I know, meine liebe, I know." His hand rose to entangle in her locks, and the feeling of his digits as they ran through her messy tendrils was near orgasmic. You reached to reclaim her phone beneath the pillowcase and frowned at the screen which still displayed a photo of him as he blissfully snoozed.
“Sometimes it gets hard, not waking up next to you.” The realization dawned on Nico, then. This was not about having two separate places to talk, eat, and sleep together whenever they preferred. It’s about the fact that they have not discussed narrowing it down to one. He shifts his gaze to the nightstand, where your retainer case stayed. Then they flickered to the top drawer of his chest, where a piece of your cheeky briefs dangled precariously on the corner. Your body wash settled in the corner of his bathtub rail. You, a mesmerizing sight to behold as you laid lackadaisical in his shirt and under his sheets. Nico concluded he didn’t want bits and pieces anymore. He wanted the whole damn package. He wants all of you.
“Come on, up.” He insisted as he jostled her arm.
“Huh?” Confused, you followed his lead and crawled out of bed anyway to join him at the foot of it. “Where are we going?” He couldn’t hide his grin. There had been no him or her since their first month together. It was always both of them.
“To make a copy of my house key for you.” Your eyes widened, and now he’d felt unsure for jumping at the opportunity. “Unless you plan to pick the lock every time I’m not here–”
Your body collided with his in an instant, aglow with radiance and devotion for the man that stood in front of you. “Yes, please.” You answered as though it were a proposal, rather than a gentle command on his part.
Proposal. He pondered the word to himself on the drive to the nearest handy store, sparing glances at you every few moments that you weren’t looking back. Is that what’s next for the two of you?
“Did you want to stop for coffee on the way? You never got to make your morning cup.” You gently reminded, before adding with a sly smirk, “Plus, we did keep each other up pretty late last night.”
But Nico didn’t need to keep second-guessing with you.
All the answers were simple because all of them were yes.
★☆★☆★ ★☆★☆★
Through her discovery and onslaught of tears, you muster a fond smile and answer the call.
“N-neeks?” You get out through stuttering breaths.
“Love, are you crying? What happened?” You wanted to hug him and slap him across the face at the same time for the idiotic question.
“What do you mean ‘what happened?’ Twenty minutes ago you got slammed to the floor and a hockey puck to the face, that’s what happened!” You catch a quiet wince on the other end of the line and are now wanting to slap yourself. “Are you okay?”
“I’m…I’m fine.”
“Nico…”
“I swear I’m okay. Just had a bruised rib and a couple of cuts on my cheek. The sports doctor just left and cleared me for our game two weeks from now.”
“No broken bones?”
“Nope.”
“Heart’s still beating?”
“It better be, or my girlfriend’s gonna kill me.” He coughs out a few laughs, but you can feel the hurt behind them.
“Um…I was so freaked out when I saw them lead you to the dressing room that I drove here.” You sniffle, looking up at the car’s roof.
“Wait you–you’re at the stadium right now?”
“Yeah, pretty stupid of me considering I can’t go inside.” Nico wants to ask what’s stopping you before it dawns on him; you have no ticket, no pass to the locker rooms, not even acknowledged to be related to any member of the team like the other WAGS (“As in Wives and Girlfriends” he remembers you telling him).
“Meine Liebe, where are you parked?” Amidst all of the turmoil tonight’s put the two of you through, you manage a dry laugh.
“Nico, you can’t sneak out in the middle of your own game.” Part of you hopes his injury warrants omitting the post-game interviews, photo ops, and everything else in between, so you won’t be wasting much more time in the humming car.
“What? No, of course not.” He insists, “I’m sneaking you in.” Your laughter turns to a choke.
“Excuse me? That’s a ridiculous idea!” You want to add the fact that nobody would recognize you, let alone be as amicable as they are to Nico. As pure as your intentions are, you’re still a stranger. A foreign body. (And to some very appreciative fans, a threat.)
He exhales something between a breath of relief and a humored laugh. You hear it bounce off of the locker room walls. “Petal, I don’t know if I can hide you any longer. I-I don’t want to. Do you?” He volleys you the question, and the weight of the velvet box nestled in your pocket increases ten-fold.
“No. I don’t think I’ve wanted us to be a secret for a while…” You admit through a wobbling lip.
“Where are you parked?” He asks once again. The buzzer sounds through his end of the phone, and this time you aren’t reluctant to answer.
His appearance was like a car wreck you couldn’t look away from. The disheveled hair (once slicked and combed) and patchwork of bandages and bruises on ivory skin was gut-churning to view up close, but before you could properly scold him, his swollen lips were greeting yours in a sentimental reunion. Bodies we’re filing into the corridor as you did so. A chattering stream of staff, coaches, players, and WAGS come at you head on like a wave.
“Woah, Hischier! We leave you alone for half a period and you manage to find a girlfriend?” A deep, accented voice slices through the invisible line your mouths convene at, and you turn your attention to the source. A brawny figure topped with blonde hair marches up to you in a striking red jersey matching Nico’s. You glance at the number 63 on his sleeve, and it only confirms your assumptions. Jesper Bratt was exactly as Nico described him to be, chaff jokes and all.
Another body donned in red pushes past Jesper’s to stand before you. He leans down, and says with a monkeying smile and voice just loud enough for those around to hear, “Ma’am, if you’re in any danger, blink twice.” You glance down at his sleeve, too. 86. Luke Hughes, you think, or is it Jack?
“Oh, fuck off!” Nico’s arm stretches out to shove him away, before situating the limb around your waist. When his hand bumps into a firm object poking out the side of your pocket. He stiffens beside you immediately, and you gulp as if you’d done something worthy of punishment. Of course, you were going to bring it up one way or another to him later in the night after all the post-game chaos had ticked by, but you suppose him finding out this way works just as well. The players forming a crowd around the two of you only grows, and they’re too caught up in laughing at their antics to notice their captain’s ungiving posture.
“Well, you gonna introduce us, or what?” Luke, (definitely Luke) queries. In the center of eyes and lingering questions, Nico’s whiskey ones connect with yours for a silent proposal. Without wasting any more time, you nod.
“Everyone, this is Y/N, my fiancée.”
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robolvrr · 1 month ago
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pop 'n lock it! *⁠.⁠✧。⁠☆
rodimus prime x gn! flirty bounty hunter reader
sexy aliens at hotspots near you! • rodimus has learned that maybe cybertronians aren't as feared by the rest of the galaxy as he thinks.
warnings: nsfw, sexual content. (fisting, valveplay, friends with benefits.) non-cybertronian reader.
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"come here often?"
your fingers rub absently on the safety lock of a battered pistol. the sizzle of raw laser still sends a wave of nausea through your system, before your internal servers have forwarded through past memories and interactions to positively identify the cocky voice rumbling through your communications system.
your lips playfully pull upwards.
"how'd you get my line, roddy? don't remember giving you this frequency babe."
the laughter that follows is painfully confident. so much so, that you can easily pick the chuckles apart and find the nervousness coursing beneath. he's about to snip back at you but that's just so predictable, especially since he's much more fun tongue-tied.
"daww, you missed me pretty thing? and here i thought you were too busy being a lil commander. if you wanted me so bad you coulda just told me the last time."
rodimus lets out the equivalent of a bark. you turn your attention to the sky, squinting in an attempt to see if he was piercing through the atmosphere or not.
"oh, you're mean! you know, sometimes i think you just like to project. i get you that riled up, sweetspark?"
that's how he wants to play tonight? cute.
you make eye-contact with a ball of flame and melted metal dancing across bright, magenta skies like a comet out of hell. humming, your pistol meets your hip, belt heavy with equpiment.
"your paint job gonna hold, hm? coming down awfully hot, needy."
"am not."
"uh-huh. sure, speedy. you want me to buff it better later?"
"just get that expression off your face. ugh."
that smile is downright cheshire. this planet's entire warmth and core couldn't force his frame any hotter than the sly smirks you design. it's your plotting grin.
the possibilities send a nice shiver down to his pedes.
"good mechs get rewards. stop playing coy and admit you're stressed and you missed me."
silence, for once, fills your comms. he can imagine you sucking your teeth with a feigned, sour pout.
"... be ready."
your head tips back when you giggle. legs drape over a slender, glossy bike before it sets to hover over rusted terrain, helmet clicking into place as your suit whirs to function.
[ welcome back, user. where to? ]
wrists twist back until the engine purrs. you wonder if rodimus will too.
"the usual. clear my night and tell trax the job is done."
your bike and you shoot through the desert in a blur, leaving the approaching prime and your disintegrated target of ash far behind.
---------
rodimus knows he shouldn't be interacting with you on any level. like, at all.
it's not as if you're a major threat. he's learned the hard way not to leap to conclusions, though you've never made a point of following through with any threats and you're cute, kind of intimidating. almost some figment of his imagination that flits in the corners of his optics.
he hasn't told anyone, anyone, on the ship about you.
for one, they just wouldn't get it.
rodimus prime, captain of the lost light, dirty pervert who enjoys interfacing outside his species every once in awhile. who is hopelessly intoxicated by a being hundreds of feet shorter and yet lets 'em run him up a wall.
for two, he's sure it isn't "ethical." magnus wouldn't look at him the same and he already was in hot water.
for three? well for three, you should be in prison. he's not sure where or which one, but from his research and your blunt pride, you're not exactly a good person.
not entirely. you've gotten rid of some awful corruption and he doesn't like how he's starting to question where his morals and your efficiency mix, because he's certain you don't fry his processors that bad to the point he's losing his sense.
you do.
rodimus lands on the planet's surface, fields buzzing too much to remember the name or care about proper docking. it's not as if he's sticking around for long, per your request.
which is cool. totally cool.
rodimus feels like shareware when he transforms into alt-mode, aware you're probably already waiting. his pistons roar and he fights the urge not to ding you again, because yeah, he's needy.
so what if he misses your mouth? missed your skin, synthetic and otherwise, missed your foreign technology analyzing his ticks and limits?
he needed this. he deserves this, that much was true.
the crackle of his comms make his wheels bite rock aggressively.
"don't make me wait."
----------
he arrives not even five minutes later. you're too static to care about or remember his measurement of time. it's quick and to your standards and that's all that matters.
his chassis is dusty. sure enough, there is visible damage upon his descent. you don't look up, or over, your shoulder until he drawls in bratty greeting.
"you know, most hosts are a little more attentive."
there he goes. classic rodimus, always misbehaving. biting what he could chew and choking instead.
you let the silence grow awkward before you give him what he wants. you can sense the way he's unsure by how his vents vary, fans slowly whirring as they lower the temperature down a degree.
"and most guests are more polite. who said i invited you?"
poor thing looks like a kicked pet. his optic ridges droop and his dermas screw up, stubborn.
"i can be good. it's just... i need you, okay? that's what you wanted to hear, right? just give me tonight. please."
he slips down the concrete wall as steps, practiced and nonchalant, drift his direction. all his insecurities and want bubble to a nasty concoction and his legs part without command.
he can feel it. your stare, right on his closed array. the visual, physical culmination of his obsession dripping and oh, primus. your mouth is opening and you're letting it fall on your tongue.
"hahhh.. frag." he stores the image in a file far away.
"like candy, roddy. i can forgive you for intruding if you haven't been touching yourself like i asked, darling."
he groans and his digits scrape the foundation. you suck your finger and he's shaking.
"sure tastes like it."
frag it all. you make him so desperate it's embarrassing.
he nods his head fast and his panels pop and lock open.
leaning forward, you make a mental note to see just when your schedule will open up again this lunar cycle. while his spike is just as pretty as he is, an curved phallic throb of silver metal with sparkling, ruby bio-lights, you dip lower instead.
rodimus didn't have time to ask, hearing the whoosh of your thrusters and suddenly tongue and spit find his node with turbokitten licks.
"ooohhhh, okay, hah! w-warn somebody before you just g— guhh..!"
you never ask him to mass displace when intimate. it's partially the reason he feels so gross. there is no reason for him to be this broken already.
he should be breaking you. you should be under him, unable to take an inch. unable to think straight, or walk straight—
you're nibbling.
the rounded knob is rubber and thick. solid. firm, but slippery. you're not worried about harming him, though you do bite harder than necessary to ensure he's getting stimulated.
transfluid starts to drench your chin as you swirl and slobber, forming a warm suction that earns you a glitched moan.
"yes, yes, yeeeeeeaaahh... j-jhust like. ah! that.."
eager fingers circle his valve. he hiccups his approval.
then, your hand. he has to focus on not crushing it but from the yelp and helm bumping the ceiling, he wasn't expecting the action at all. you dreamily continue to coat him in your saliva as your wrist slithers in.
rodimus is sure he's going to offline.
you're not big. that's been established. but he still has to ease his calipers, legs trembling as you shove more and more of your forearm in him.
"please don't stop. i-i'm sho sorry. i'll be good. i'll be so good fhoure yew."
lubricant coats his faceplate when he hears your wicked amusement murmur against his valve instead.
his processor is fuzzy. he can't grab at anything because his strength will collapse the support beams, or you'll shoot that domineering leer that makes him feel like he's tipped over a vase.
rodimus whines, bleats. after lapping and swallows, your mouth has lost patience and drifted to his pulsing shaft instead. your lips are so much softer than a cybertonian, pillowy and velvet.
meanwhile, you are lazy. still pumping up to the elbow, in and out, in, out, innnn, outttt.
"let me see you cry, honey. so cute when you do. so handsome. so pretty."
the captain ex-vents sharp. his optics are cerulean. they glow in the darkness and drink you up.
"y-yeah?"
greedy! he's too obvious.
"you're the prettiest cybertonian i have ever seen." there it is, that engine growl. it vibrates your form with a tickle.
"my little light. my perfect...", you know what you're saying is going to make him overthink. you keep going because you feel how close he is already. "perfect prime."
that does it. rodimus tries to reboot his vocalizer as he shrieks out, dopey and bursting. a large, pink pool puddles at his aft, a single servo snatching you by the waist by instinct and dragging you up, up, up, up.
his glossa shoves down your throat and you paw at his helm.
he wants this burnt into his very being. his spark is thrashing.
"give. more. c'mon."
smoothing away tears, you suckle. his glossa slithers out and spit and fluid makes spider-web bridges between your mouths.
"you know i am not that mean, right? relax your pistons."
rodimus looks at you, albeit too tenderly. you close your eyes and distract you both instead by kissing him again.
"hah. as if. you're evil."
"you seem to have a habit of letting evil people around you, roddy." clink. the suit on your body phases off. he looks like he wants to stick you in his intake, drool and all.
"... touché."
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izscha · 5 months ago
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Recently got a new CSP brush set and wanted to test them out by doodling some of the XS cast (and also some of my OCs as well)
It's also an excuse for me to show you guys how I color code them in doodles and small comics in the future lol
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ineylesian · 2 months ago
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SEPARATION ANXIETY
— RUSSELL ADLER X FEM! READER SERIES
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SYNOPSIS — Adler believed he had left you behind in the Cold War. Unbeknownst to him, you were festering in the very shadow of terror he was chasing.
GENERAL WARNINGS — fem! anatomy reader, smut (undetermined if explicit or mentioned), mentions of mind control (MK Ultra, Cradle), spoilers for BOCW and BO6, weapon violence, depictions of insanity, hallucinations.
GENERAL NOTE — this series is in the works and plans are still in development. any ideas or comments are welcome!
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Amidst the faded movement of Harrow’s face, the camera pans, catching the glint of metal and a static laden voice that sends chills down his spine.
“Cut the feeds, we’re being watched.”
Adler never believed he’d see you again. He had watched you fall to your death in the jungles of Vietnam 20 years ago. Yet, here you are, casting a glare that seems to pierce through the screen before the footage dies.
He’s unaware of the clamming of his hands and paling of his face until all eyes are suddenly on him.
“…shit.”
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PART ONE | DEAD IN WINTER HARBOR
He thought this was a figment of his imagination. Sleepless nights riddled with guilt and regret, staring at him like he was a speck of dust in the air. Yet, it was real, you were real, real as the cold press of the barrel on his head.
This was madness.
PART TWO | NO WIND OF BLAME
If you cannot recover, you can no longer live. It’s time to wake up.
PART THREE/ EPILOGUE (TBD)
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siri-ike · 24 days ago
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Empty, chapter 3
A dp x dc crossover fic
P.S. if you notice a spelling errors in any of my posts, please let me know so i can fix them.
Chapter 1 chapter 2
It's hard to tell how long they were sliding for. It felt like ages, yet only a moment. It felt like they had become friends, though they had never spoken. He didn't even know what her life had been like, why she had run away or why she chose this day. He only knew that he wanted to help her. And if that meant leaving all that conflict behind, so be it. He can find more elsewhere.
Eventually, they stopped at a far away park. The sun had gotten low enough that no matter where you looked, you had a 50% chance of being blinded. He made sure to drop her in a patch of grass so as not to hurt her. She was quick to get up and run into the park. Didn't even question the ice. He supposed he could leave her to her plans, but it's not like he had any of his own. So he followed.
All the way to the other side of the park where an officer picked her up like a wet cat. She kicked and scratched, but her limbs simply weren't long enough.
"Out late, are we? Do your parents know where you are, Maggie?" He asked, not putting her down.
Maggie? Oh, right, that other guy called her Margaret before. They must know each other.
"Let's take a look in that bag, shall we?" He took the bag and dropped her to the ground.
"NO! NO! It's mine! You can't have it!" She screamed desperately, trying to reach it. And that's enough. He swooped towards the cop and then through him. Leaving him half frozen, holding her bag. Now that he was still, she could jump up and grab it.
The sun was setting by the time she stopped running. They were at a train station underground. Light barely made it in to outline every surface with an orange glow.
The girls shadow got fainter the deeper into the tunnels they went. And it almost looked as though he had one of his own.
She stopped at a rusty old train cart. She had to put her bag down in order to force the door open. The inside looked like a museum. Everything had been taken out to make room for plastic cases full of jewelry like broaches, necklaces, and earrings, but also things like cutlery, candle holders, shiny wrapping paper. Most of the stuff here looks worthless.
Oh, no.
He was helping a thief. Worse than that, he was helping a kleptomaniac. Was that officer trying to help? Did she steal from the guy who was yelling before? Stupid. How could he be so stupid?!
Klank!
He looked down to the source of the sound. A menorah had fallen to the ground. The sound echoed through the train car and down both tunnels. Who steals a menorah? Sam would be furious.
A better question is: who is Sam?
His gaze wanders back to the girl, surprised to see she's looking at him too.
She just stares at him. Not directly. More so at his torso area. He tries moving over but her eyes follow, sort of. He looks behind him, and there it is.
His shadow. It looks human. Like if a person were just floating in the air. But, that can't be. He's not-
"you're not real." Her voice is much smaller this time. "you're just a filament of my imagination" She insisted, unconvincingly.
"Ok, even I know it's figment, and I'm one of the dumbest people I know." He floats lower. "But, you're right. I'm not real." He sits down on the cold metal train floor. "I might have been once. A long time ago. Sometimes I can see people, in my mind. they're blurry. But they're always the same ones." He lets out a breath of cold air. "A boy with glasses and a girl wearing all black. Those two are usually together when I picture them. Then there's a taller girl with red hair, she feels so warm even though I can't touch her. Then there's a man and a woman, he's big and square and she smells like oil, all the time." He brings his knee to his chest. "I'm not sure if they were real either. Maybe I just made them up." He curls up, trying to hide what would be tears if he could produce them. "Sometimes I, I-" he pauses to gather the courage to confess.
"I hope I made them up."
For a moment, he sits there. Letting the guilt consume him. But after a while with no response. He looks up.
The whole train car is frozen. Icicles have grown from the ceiling the display cases are incased in layers upon layers of ice.
And an 8 year old girl stands in front of him. With a look of horror, permanently carved on her face.
Chapter 4
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inkedinfusions · 11 days ago
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𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | eren jaeger one shot
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⊱❦︎⊰ | You encounter Eren again after a year of not seeing him. Still, things could not be more different than when you first parted. You stand on opposite sides of a cell trying to piece together that which separated you after years of close friendship.
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⊱❦︎⊰ | masterlist of works
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𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭
word count: 2k
content warnings: hurt no comfort, angst, mentions of violence but nothing you haven't seen in aot, spoilers for s4 ig, gaslighting on erens part because he is in his lets make everyone hate me era. I'm like 99 percent sure there are not markers for gender or height or anything else here so this is gender neutral reader. Can be read as romantic or platonic.
a/n: Yeah, idk where this came from either. I was chilling, trying to write for the key listening to music, and then BAM i love you by billie eilish came on and inspiration hit me in the back of the head with a metal tray. This is my Christmas gift to ya'll, so I hope you like it. Happy holidays!
Thanks for reading!
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 holding cells are kept was humid, decrepit. It smelled of decay, of burned out dreams and untold desperation. The stones that made up the walls were held together by the sheer will of those who sentenced the unfortunate tenants – those that found themselves on the other side of rusty bars, lit only by the faint light emitted by the hellfire torches. 
Your footsteps echoed in the small hallway that led up to the cells, and you were guided by this same light, following like a moth to a flame, knowing just as well that the probability of getting burned climbs higher the farther you walked. 
The sway of your cardigan kept your warmth against the cold of the dingy place, where not even the fire that lit your way was able to warm up. You fiddled with the hem of your sleeve, pockets empty except for the feeble hope that kept fighting inside you, not getting extinguished no matter what the higher ups told you, what your eyes had witnessed back in Liberio. 
The gruesome memories from the raid left a bitter taste in your tongue, only stoked by the death of your friend. It had been unexpected to say the least; there had only been a bang as the bullet left the firing chamber, a thud as Sasha’s body hit the floor. The desperate pleas from you and everyone else and then the tenderness of her last breath, succeeded by the limpness of her body. 
She had gotten a burial in the common grounds, just as many of your departed comrades before her – she had left behind people who loved her, just as many of your departed comrades before her. 
It had hurt like hell when you arrived on the island, it had hurt even more later, when you arrived to Shiganshina. The city was cleaned from the pandemonium that had happened oh so many years ago, and still the traces of the Wall’s fall could be found in those who survived it. And now you had gone and inflicted similar pain on the nation who had been responsible. 
Innocent civilians –children, mothers, brothers, humans– were caught in the crossfire as they so often are. The blood they had shed was nothing but the price to be paid for winning the game those in the high chairs played, their hands so easily wiped from the crimson liquid. And you, a simple soldier, weren’t in the position to afford such a sanctified handkerchief.  
The uniform that you had donned in your early days as a cadet had been white, odd in theory but practical in the field. Titan remains evaporated in just a few seconds – minutes in worse cases – and so there wasn’t much of a problem when time came to clean them.  
It had only been when your enemies started to be human that there had been a change to make them black, a color in which permanent blood splatters would show less. 
The journey back on the airship was nothing but a figment of time in your memory, numbed by the loss you had felt, by the expected reunion that had done nothing but confuse you, melt your perceptions and flush them down the drain. 
Your feet finally took you to the end of the cell row, having passed endless empty ones. Each time you approached a new one, each time the wall partition revealed the inside of the bars, each time your heart jumped, your stomach churned. 
You felt like a lovesick teenager again, with butterflies in your guts, with clouds messing with your thoughts, with heat spreading across your face. But now there were no warm embraces, no teasing words, no glances exchanged when on opposite sides of the room. There was only silence as you met Eren’s eyes from across the metal bars – his, devoid of feeling; yours, anguished, betrayed. 
The faint crackling of the torch to your right set the atmosphere, the small candle at the side of his mirror followed it in its dance. 
“...You changed your hair,” you said, breaking the silence, cutting it with a butter knife. 
“I did,” he replied. 
A beat passed. His clothes rustled as he stood up from where he was sitting on the bed, walking so he would be situated directly in front of you. Divided by the iron beams, by the way neither of you stood close to them, you continued to watch him, drinking in the essence of the boy you hadn’t seen in a year. 
But the person in front of you was a boy no longer, but a man with a scarred mind, one burdened with the knowledge of things yet to come. You surveyed his figure as you often did before, lessons learned from the many brawls he seemed to get himself into, from the many injuries he used to try and hide from your watchful eye, giving in when you traced the bruises that marred his skin. 
That little routine stopped when he got his titan powers, now it being the thing that kept his flesh unblemished, no longer needing the healing of your touch and yet longing for the comfort it offered. 
Just as the fire danced, you had too, stepping in between lines, playing with the tether that held you both together, tugging and tripping and twisting until the relationship you both shared could not be defined by any spoken words. 
Still, you tried. 
“Yours looks the same,” he said, as coldly as his first statement. 
It did. You hadn’t let it grow, and neither had you taken scissors to it and cut until it resembled a haircut no more. It had been stagnant just as you, left to rot behind with the progress that wasn’t going anywhere in this world of broken hopes. 
You nodded, losing your words just as easily as you had lost him.
The candle in the cell kept dripping, wax falling off the candle holder and forming small drips along its side. The torch kept flickering, changing your shadows so that no moment was the same. 
“Why are you here?” Eren asked. 
“I just wanted to see you–”
“Let me rephrase,” he interrupted. “How are you allowed to be here?”
You hesitated. Hange had been clear with your squad. None of you were allowed to make contact with Eren, given his current traitor status to the island, given your emotional ties to him. Coming down here would be only detrimental to your position in the military machine if all that were to be true. 
And still, moments after Hange had left the holding cells after talking to Eren for the first time in the better part of a year, they had summoned you to the building. The higher ups had been against it at first, but it became clear that you were the person that Eren would be more likely to talk to. And by the Walls, did that admission hurt. 
“...Hange thinks you’ll talk to me,” you said. “I chose to believe them.”
“Talk to you?” he said. “What do we have to talk about?”
His question strung your heart along, puncturing it like the sharp headed arrow that it is. You knew he had changed – it was as obvious as the ripples a stone forms in the sea. Yet you wanted to pretend that beneath the hardened surface, he would still treat you like the boy you used to know did. 
The more you thought about it, the angrier you got. How dare he disappear without a trace, how dare he make you worry for a year, how dare he send letters with instructions with no regards for your being, how dare he return as cold as a winter day. How dare he treat you with scorn, worse than a stranger, for strangers don’t have bonds that can be ruptured. 
“Nothing to talk about…?” you started, slowing your words down to push their meaning through. “Nothing to talk about?”
You clenched your fists, fire burning in your guts, your heart, your eyes, threatening to set you ablaze. 
“You left with no warning, on a strange land not one of us had been to before, suddenly sent letters basically ordering us to follow your plans for a raid, and then when I finally see you again you tell me we have nothing to talk about?”
You didn’t notice how your breath pattern became increasingly more erratic, how you began to wildly gesture with your hands. Your body language was deservingly sharp against him, and yet Eren remained frustratingly calm through your rant. 
“You summarized it nicely,” he said after a moment. “Well? I’ll tell you no more than what I told Hange.”
“I want to hear it anyways,” you said with barely contained exasperation. 
Eren took a step forwards, closer to the iron bars, closer to you and still so far away. 
“You might think I am a prisoner here, but there is no cell that can hold me now,” he said. “You remember me taking the War Hammer Titan back at Liberio. You know I can leave whenever I want.”
“So why haven’t you?” you asked. 
Once again there was no outwards response on Eren’s part. His eyes flashed with something, but that was it. There was no agitation, no remorse. 
“Why should I tell you?” he said. “You are the one who said the higher ups sent you.”
“So now you're just–” you made a disbelieving gesture with your hand, “keeping secrets? You know I won’t tell them if you ask me to.”
This time the flash in his eyes was far clearer. Surprise. Wonder. 
“You would commit treason then?”
You scoffed. “You sound surprised. I've been charged with insubordination before.”
All three of you had. Eren, Mikasa and you went against Levi’s orders back in Shiganshina, with the only purpose of saving Armin’s life. It shouldn’t be a surprise that the same determination be applied to him. 
His face hardened. “You won’t get anything more from me.”
“...Whatever. I don’t care why you haven’t broken out,” you started. “But I want to know why you left us.”
“Left you, you mean?”
His words cut deep, and he could see that. You felt heat making its way through your guts, up your esophagus, threatening you with its bitter raspiness. You were dazed, confused. What had happened to warrant such a drastic change?
“It's simple really,” Eren said. “I keep moving forward, while you get stuck behind. Our paths were never meant to stay together for long.”
“You don’t mean that,” you said, the heat turning to tears that you were barely holding back. 
“I do,” he answered. “I may look like I’m the prisoner here, but you are the one who cannot escape the guilt that trails behind. Guilt at surviving, guilt at desiring better, guilt at failing to do so. It’s people like you, who claim to want to be free and yet lock themselves in the comfort of their own cages that disgust me.”
You had said your piece, he had said his. And now there was only one thing left behind to tick away, one last statement before everything went crashing down, one last dance before the music ended abruptly, the orchestra destroyed by those they performed for. 
“I love you,” you said, a single tear running down your cheek. 
“That was your mistake,” Eren said. 
You choked on a laugh, disbelieving. You remembered warm days spent dazing on the shadows of a swaying tree, of late nights and graveyard shifts, of lingering touches and heartfelt words. You remembered the boy who loved you, one who you were sure was trapped under layers and layers of falsehoods. 
Eren didn’t move, when once upon a time he would've been the first to comfort you after seeing the droplets that fell out of your eyes. But he just stared, as still as a statue when you turned to the hallway, taking your leave, walking away with the last breath of the melted candle. 
Living as a soldier was brutal. You had lost friends, endured broken bones and cracked ribs, known the primal fear that comes with being on the wrong side of a weapon. And yet nothing hurt as badly as the few cutting words Eren had imparted upon you. 
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gogogodzilla · 1 year ago
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day 18, orgasm control
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johnny silverhand x reader warnings: nsfw 18+,dirty talk, creampie, fingering, light angst at the end, johnny doesn't have a body but he also does???, reader is referred to as "v" kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3
Johnny Silverhand was a parasite. But, he was your parasite, and as much as you wanted to hate his constant presence, it comforted you in a way. 
You tossed and turned under your thin covers, frustration brewing in your chest. Your mind raced with all the ways you could lull yourself into the unconsciousness you so desperately craved. 
Finally, you landed on an option, and you scanned your apartment, checking for that annoying figment of your imagination. He was nowhere to be found; you couldn’t even feel the slight burn from the smoke of his cigarettes in the back of your throat. 
You cautiously slipped a hand under your sleep shorts, waiting for him to appear in your peripherals. Slowly, you relaxed and began drawing slow circles onto your clit. You bit your lip, your frustration growing when you couldn’t get the right angle. 
You shimmied out of your shorts and underwear and kicked your blanket to the side. A sigh left your lips as you spread your legs, goosebumps covering your body as the nighttime air hit you. You tugged your shirt over your head and threw it to the side, moving a hand up to knead your breast while the other slid through your folds. 
You dipped a finger into your entrance before circling back up to your clit, teasing yourself. It’d been too damn long since you’d had any action, and you were close already. 
You slid a finger inside yourself and pumped it a few times before adding another one, stretching yourself. You extended your thumb to glide across your clit. The sounds of your core squelching with your movements filled the room, and you arched against the mattress. 
Your movements became hurried as your climax rapidly approached. You were so fucking close. 
“Damn, V,” Johnny breathed from the other side of your room, and your legs snapped shut. 
Your eyes darted open and met his, and you scrambled to cover yourself. His arms were crossed as he leaned against your bedroom wall, eyes scanning over your body. 
He shrugged, “Don’t stop on my account. I was enjoying the show.” 
“Fuck off, Johnny,” you snapped, pulling your covers closer. “You ruin everything.” 
He tsked and disappeared for just a moment before his form flashed to the end of your bed. He leaned back onto his hands and turned his head to look at you over his sunglasses. 
“I could tell how close you were, V. It’s a shame I couldn’t watch you cum all over those pretty fingers,” he hummed, and you couldn’t deny how your core ached at his words. 
You huffed and rolled your eyes, your dripping core contrasting your annoyance towards him. 
He disappeared once again and you thought you’d gotten rid of him for the night before he appeared, kneeling in front of your covered legs. His sunglasses were tucked neatly into his vest, allowing you to meet his eyes.
“Lemme help you,” he urged, a corporeal hand sliding up your calf. You knew he wasn’t actually there with you but, damn, it felt real. You still couldn’t wrap your head around how real his touch felt against your skin, but you’d given up trying to figure it out a long time ago. 
You relaxed in his touch and bit your lip. “I was doing just fine without you.” 
“I know,” he replied, breathless as his hand skated across your thigh. His free hand tugged away the covers to reveal your naked form. You instinctively moved to cover yourself with your hands, but he pulled them away. 
He nudged your shoulder so you were lying down, and he took up the space between your thighs. He ran his hands over your thighs, the cool metal of his hand making your muscles twitch under his touch. 
His hand moved to swipe through your folds, collecting your slick onto his fingertips. He circled your clit, and you arched against his touch, whining a little. His metal hand moved up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple between two of his fingers. 
He sunk a finger into your core, pumping it a few times. A breathy whine escaped you as he took his time with you. You’d expected Johnny to be the type of guy to get right to it when it came to fucking you. Clearly, you were wrong. 
His finger was quickly joined by another one, and you let a sigh as he worked you toward your release. 
He palmed himself through his jeans as he watched your greedy pussy swallow his fingers. He extended his thumb to rub against your clit, and a breathy moan left you. 
“You ever think about me while you’re playing with yourself, baby?” he questioned as he jutted his fingers deeper inside you. 
You nodded, reliving all the times your mind drifted to him while you touched yourself, wishing it was him instead. He groaned at your response and curled his fingers inside of you, reaching that spot that had your toes curling. 
Your release was dangerously close, and your walls fluttered against Johnny’s fingers. He panted as he continued to drive his fingers into your seeping core, filling your tiny bedroom with lewd noises. 
You rested a hand on his forearm, desperate to touch him. Just as you were about to teeter off the edge,  he removed his fingers. The whine you let out was borderline pathetic. 
“Johnny,” you mewled, tears of frustration dotting the corners of your eyes. 
He took his fingers into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you. He removed his fingers and popped the button on his jeans. His hand drifted past the waistband of his briefs, and he pulled out his cock. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him stroke himself a few times. 
“Wanna see you cum all over my cock, baby,” he grunted as he slid his cock through your dripping folds. He plunged inside you without much resistance, and your legs wrapped around his hips. 
You knew this wasn’t really happening. It was just your brain malfunctioning and your neurons sending signals when they shouldn’t, but his cock buried inside you felt as real as anything you’d ever felt. 
His breathing quickened as you clenched around him, getting used to his length. After a few moments, he started moving his hips. Johnny fucked you like he meant it, and you expected no less. Every thrust of his hips was like he was trying to prove a point— like he was trying to prove that he was there. That it was his cock drawing those pretty noises out of you, and no one else’s. 
He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss. You ran your tongue over his bottom lip, and he groaned against you. Johnny’s hand trailed over your thigh and to where you were joined, drawing lazy circles against your clit. 
He pulled away to leave wet kisses against the column of your throat. He nipped at the exposed skin, and you briefly wondered if he’d actually leave a hickey. 
His thrusts became short and rough as you neared your climax, once again. You wrapped your arms around him, bringing him impossibly closer. Your nails dug into the flesh of his back as arousal coursed through you. Johnny pressed his weight against you, hissing as you scratched him. He jutted into you like he was trying to convince you that he was real. That he was here to stay. 
“You feel so good, baby. C’mon, cum for me. Wanna feel you cum,” he pleaded, his words slurring together. 
At his words, you were coming undone, thanking whatever deity out there that he finally let you cum. You moaned out his name as he rutted inside you, chasing his own high while allowing you to ride out your own. His hips faltered and he groaned against you, his release coating your walls. You felt him fill you, and you swore you could feel his cock twitch within you.
He stilled within you as you both caught your breath. You snapped your eyes shut, savoring his touch. Your chest ached at how much you wanted him to be there with you— actually there with you and not just a figment of your imagination. 
He rested his head on your shoulder, pressing a kiss there before pulling out of you. He soothed the whine that left you with his lips against yours. You found yourself suddenly craving a cigarette, his own desires mixing with your own. 
You blinked, and he vanished before reappearing at your side with a cigarette dangling between his lips. His sunglasses were back in their usual spot, and he leaned his head against your headboard.
“Tired now?” he questioned, looking down at you. 
You turned on your side, resting your head on your arm, the ache in your chest growing. “Yeah, thanks.” 
“Don’t mention it.” 
Your throat tightened, and you weren’t sure how much of it was his sadness and how much was your own. You wished you could meet his gaze. You wished you could touch him, and you wished he was yours. You wondered if he felt the same way. 
“Johnny,” you called out, your voice thick with emotion. He hummed in response. You sighed, “I wish we had more time.” 
“Maybe in another lifetime, kid.”
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