‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ hi i'm mel & i've recently gotten into writing for myself / for funsies again after some time away. this is my fun lil corner of the internet where i write about my fav characters and share art and have fun. soooo triflers need not apply!
a little about me: i use she/her pronouns! i studied english in university and very much into witchy shit, but i wanna keep this space primarily my writing. i love storytelling, absolutely obsessed with songs, movies, books, and stories that can do storytelling well.
current obsessions as of MAR 11TH: kpop drama rip heeseung, skiing, suguru fic im writing! dried mango slices too
currently working on: adorned (suguru x reader fic) ch6 & something reiner x reader coming soon hehehehehe
anyhoo, this blog is definitely NSFW, and it's safe to assume most of my writing is as well, but they'll be properly labelled so... MDNI !! kindly ensure your age is indicated on your page before engaging. ageless and blank blogs get blocked !!
what i write: i write what i want, i'm open to taking requests: i like to write character studies, relationship dynamics, dialogue, angst, fluff, and i guess smut LOL. it's my own version of smut.. door not open... door cracked. i also almost exclusively write from afab pov, also!
i won't write: aged up characters, minors, incest, noncon, anything i don't feel comfortable with!
find my masterlist of works on tumblr here! & my ao3 page here! // all owned by brujawrites. do not copy, translate, steal, plagiarize, or otherwise disrespect my work!
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔: "𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧," | masterlist | next chapter in progress
contains: suguru x female reader, shoko ieri, college au, modern setting, college!suguru, english major!suguru, pining, slow burn, inspired by lana del rey lyrics, 18+ ONLY MDNI
synopsis: suguru and reader get some alone time!!
a/n: thanks for ur patience <3 this chapter is abt 6.4k words so... something to chew on lmaoo - plot is developing and i actually finished plotting the entire story now. So.. expect a bit more of a direction with the story. This chapter ended up being longer than i expected so i decided to split it up. The next chapter should be up somewhat soon but ... hehe who knows. Ugh what do yall want to happen with reader and suguru? Would it be bad if there was drama??
ao3 - kofi - playlist - pinterest
"We're getting high now, because we're older. Me, myself, I like diamonds,"
— "Venice Bitch", Lana Del Rey
A bit breathless, but a few flights of stairs later you found yourself at the door entitled “rooftop access,” staring at a bright orange sticky note with a star drawn on it.
Subtle. You grinned, picturing Suguru rushing before class to leave this trail for you to follow. Opening the door, you were met with what you could only describe as a utility hallway. The narrow passage was probably just wide enough for two people to walk through side by side. Gray walls made of cinder blocks and cement were loaded with different gauges and meters that made you nervous to touch them and somehow throw off the delicate balance it took to keep the academic building lit and heated. As quick as your eyes traced through the space, they were drawn to the bookbag sitting in the corner.
Something about being able to recognize the bag as Suguru’s soothed you. It was as if you were finally able to take a deep breath and feel the tension leaving your upper back. He invited me up here, you thought to yourself in affirmation. There was nothing to be so nervous about. Taking in another deep breath, you slipped off your bag and placed it next to his before opening the door to the rooftop.
The bright and sterile winter sun flooded your senses with a brightness that, for a second, left you blinded and disoriented. As your eyes adjusted, it seemed like the world came rushing into view. Bright green shrubs, deep purple crocuses, vibrant pink camellias, golden tipped pansies... it was a rush of hue that rendered you even more speechless. The morning air was sharp with a crispness in your lungs that you hadn’t noticed on the walk to class earlier, but now, being on the roof and underneath the wide sky felt so freeing.
“I’m glad you made it,” Suguru’s voice seemed to interrupt what felt like a private moment, but in reality it was just a few seconds of trying to adjust your senses and getting distracted at the beauty of what appeared to be a rooftop garden. You couldn’t help but respond with a big grin when your eyes landed on him. In this light he had an almost angelic glow which softened his features. His eyes had a twinkle to them that made it impossible to look away and even harder to stop smiling.
He opened his arms to present you the garden as if he was your tour guide. The way he smiled at you made you wonder if maybe he opened his arms for a hug. As you made your way over to Suguru, he began to move through the rooftop, motioning you to follow. You did. Together, you made your way to a bench by a patch of blue pansies.
“I’ve never been up here,” you confessed, taking a seat next to him. The light of the late morning flattered him so well. Deep navy tones from his crewneck sweater brought out almost violet hues in his dark brown eyes. His eyes caught the light so well, it made you nervous. You kept looking around at the flowers, both because they were beautiful and you never expected them to be blooming this time of year, and also because catching Suguru’s eye contact meant losing your breath.
“It’s one of my favorite spots. And today’s a really nice day,” he said. You felt his eyes land on you, but you couldn’t quite meet them. The strange buzzing of anxiety in your stomach grew louder. “I come here to decompress, like when you get a paper assigned to you in the second week of class, or some bullshit like that.”
“Oh my, God -- she’s actually so insane for that,” you exclaimed. “I feel like we almost shouldn’t have brought her up when we were having pizza. It’s like we called this into existence,” you joked with a frown. Knowing Suguru also hated the idea of writing such an important paper this early in the semester made you feel less alone in your contempt. Suguru’s arms somehow managed to nearly cover the entire back of the bench as he stretched them behind the two of you. That moment on the rooftop was so strange to notice in real time. It seemed like even the moments of silence between you two were charged with electricity. You briefly thought to yourself that it was just your anxiety making a mountain out of a molehill. You yourself were turned in your seat, facing him. One leg folded underneath you, and a hand instinctively coming down to weigh the hem of your skirt down. It was hard not to admire the peaceful look on his face as he took a moment to breathe in the scenery around them. You had to fight the urge to jump back in surprise when his eyes suddenly met yours, right before he began to dig into his sweater pocket and pull out a generously rolled joint.
“Like I said,” Suguru grinned at your expression. “I like to come here to decompress.” The word had a new meaning the second time around. A small smile crept onto your lips and you felt that slight wave of anxiety from earlier fade a bit. It was definitely in your head, but this Suguru felt like the Suguru you were with on Saturday night. Suddenly, you understood -- you had gotten past his first line of defense. He was letting you in. “So?” He vaguely motioned to the rolled up herb between his fingers. “Would you like to decompress with me?” A soft chuckle left you as you nodded. Suguru’s eyes softened towards you as he pulled the joint between his lips and began to strike at a flimsy matchbook with an equally flimsy matchstick. The air was full of your nervous giggles and his heavy silences as you watched in amusement while he worked to get the joint sparked. Handing it over to you, Suguru leaned back into his original spot while you began to inhale the warm smoke. “This might sound kind of... selfish, but I’m glad I don’t have to suffer alone.” In the midst of inhaling, you were a little thrown off by Suguru. Trying to process his words silently, you could only just stare at the man next to you quizzically. The problem for you, was that he stared back.
“What?” Smoke fell from your mouth as you asked. The acrobatics of inhaling smoke while trying to hold a conversation were soon in full swing, and unlike your pen, the high didn’t take a few seconds to settle in. The hazy feeling began to settle in as you handed back the joint. “Suffer? What do you mean?”
“This class, this professor... graduation, in general, you know?” His words began to sink in as he took his hit. There was certainly a lot of pressure to be dealt with at this point in your academic careers. For you, it had begun looming over you ever since Spring semester the year prior. All your friends that were seniors were getting ready to graduate, but you hadn’t realized how quickly it would be your turn. Suguru exhaled. Your eyes traced his jawline, briefly. A guilty pleasure you couldn’t deprive yourself of.
“It can be tough when you go through it alone.” He handed over the joint, his gaze locked on something near-by, but you couldn’t really see what. As you took your inhale, a thick silence followed Suguru’s words. You couldn’t help but wonder how lonely he actually was. The gears in your mind were turning in real time as you began to unpack that cool guy impression of him that you held. How tragic would it be if you mistook his social trauma induced behavior for being a nonchalant-too-cool-for-school type. The smoke sat in your lungs like the realization that you may have been projecting your entire impression of Suguru, momentarily before being expelled. “I don’t really hang out with anyone from the department,” Suguru finally added.
“Oh,” you let out, as casually as you could. “Yeah, I get that,” you spoke slowly through your exhale. A thin stream of smoke left the perfect O of your slightly rouge'd lips. Part of you wanted to share your shitstorm of baggage with him, but would that make him uncomfortable?
“Just so you know,” you started, almost cautiously, eyeing the way his fingers brushed yours as you handed off the joint. “You’re not missing out on... much. Other English majors are like... not pretentious, exactly, they just take themselves so seriously.” You thought back to freshman year and all rude awakenings you had over the course of two semesters. The awkward luncheons held by the department weren’t all that bad, as long as there was a speaker sharing something insightful like the lecture you attended about Oscar Wilde’s time in prison. Often times, though, those events would open the door to weirder interactions, like making small talk with the girl who used to compete against you unknowingly for another boy’s attention during orientation, or the self-proclaimed tortured soul of a poetry minor from your workshop class that would pop up on your walk to class to subtly mansplain Pulp Fiction to you before you manage to make an excuse and break off. Of course, you did run off to join greek life the second your expectations for what kind of people you wanted to be around weren’t met -- something you kind of hated yourself for. You looked up at Suguru as he inhaled, partly admiring his physique again, but also wondering if he could see those selfish & shallow tendencies in you. You wonder what he would think if he did.
“Well, so far,” he exhaled. “I like hanging out with you.” His voice sounded almost shy. Your heart fluttered at his sincerity. It was as if he read your mind & answered you aloud. Meeting his gaze introduced more fluttering, but this time in your stomach. Suguru began to hand you the joint, moving in his seat to face you slightly as he did.
“Oh, is that so?” Your eyes tore away from him with a pump of adrenaline as you said it. What a lame thing to say, but what else would you have said? It felt like eternity passed as you processed his words. As you lifted the joint to your smiling lips, you hoped for steady hands.
“Yes, that is so,” Suguru laughed at your response. Now that he was closer, he could see the flush on your cheeks a bit more clearly. He wondered if that was because of him as you inhaled from the joint carefully. An orange ring of embers lit up near the middle of the paper.
“Mmmm,” you hummed playfully through slightly squinted eyes. “Why is that?” Leaning forward as you asked, you clumsily repositioned your head to exhale and not blow smoke into Suguru’s eyes. The giggles that came up weren’t just a result of nerves, but from the lightness you felt in the moment.
The hand that he had resting on the back of the bench was dangerously close to falling forward onto your knee as you leaned forward. He had done that before, though. He thought back to the party and the feeling of your leg under his hand. Suguru hadn’t meant to get rough with you then, but he couldn’t help but think about how it didn’t seem like you hated it. It’s not like your voice hasn’t been playing ‘Sorry, I get touchy when I’m high,’ on a loop in the back of his mind since Saturday. He looked at you, your eyes alight with curiosity. He’d oblige. Picking up the joint, he took his inhale to mull over how he wanted to answer your question.
“Well, you’re kind of like me,” He began, exhaling. “You might be better.” His words grew softer as he spoke them aloud. His gaze fell slightly, and though it was slight, it was enough to make you wonder if he was feeling the same kind of fluttering you did. You leaned in, watching him intently. It seemed like there was more he wanted to say and you didn’t want to miss it.
“But, I think it’s nice being around you,” he looked into your eyes when he said it, a sweet smile painting his expression. He liked seeing you like this. Like you were amazed by him. Suguru wondered if that was selfish to think.
“Like you, how?” You were even more curious about what he meant now. Inhaling as you watched him search for his words, you couldn’t help but grin at the look on his face when he’s thinking. The heat of the lit joint was making its way closer to your fingers as it passed between the two of you, but the herb felt so nice. Exhaling towards the sky, you leaned back and admired the tall leaves of the plants around you against the winter sky. Suguru laughed at you. It was like you were in your own world. Not having your heads in the clouds, but your eyes were certainly on them. Taking the time to think and appreciate the view you’ve given him of a pretty girl basking in the sunlight, he came to his conclusion and placed his hand on your knee to get you attention. The familiar touch was electrifying for you. You had been leaning back, but the pressure of his hand on the knee of your crossed leg was enough to snap you forward. When you both locked eyes again, it was no secret you both were pretty blitzed. Heavy lids, soft grins, & lots of giggles were some dead giveaways.
“Like me, like you can see through a lot of bullshit.” He picked up your left hand and passed himself the joint. His hand went back to your knee, his other hand holding the joint as he inhaled. You tried not to be frozen, but when he picked your arm up, you felt like jelly. The heat in your face had to have been extremely obvious, but you somehow managed to keep your cool. Tilting your head cockily, you grinned at the handsome boy in front of you. Your hands carefully found their way to his as it rested on the thin layer of your nylon stocking.
“And... how am I better?” You couldn’t contain your giggles as you fluttered your lashes, dramatically relishing in the positive attention. All the while, your hands both began to discover the new terrain presented to them. Suddenly, you didn’t care about seeming shallow or selfish. You just wanted to sit in peace on the rooftop with Suguru, smoking weed and playing with his hands.
“Oh my God,” Suguru laughed between the puffs of a shrinking joint. “Look at you,” he mused, laughter erupting from both your chests, flowing into one another. The theatrics were more than welcomed by Suguru. It felt so nice to let off some steam. Small eyes, wide smiles, this moment felt magical to him. His hand had since flipped over, allowing the tips of his fingers access to tickle your palms. It was such a fickle, but soothing sensation that had made you feel safe enough to melt.
Without realizing it, you let yourself get carried away, and maybe that would have been a good thing, but it was undeniable that something shifted with Suguru’s comment. A cool sensation brushed your lips as you began to feel yourself shrink back from Suguru. Since you saw the initial on the note that invited you here, your gut had been fluttering. Of course, you figured it was butterflies, but in this moment it felt like you suddenly developed a fear of heights. It could've been the high, but you knew it was the rush of what you were feeling. Did being this high up just remind you of how much it would hurt to fall? It was one thing to be playfully bratty, but being called out made you want to recluse. Call it a break in character, but the worry building in your gut now was completely based on how you were being perceived. Suguru barely spoke to you before this semester, so what did he even think of you before? It all began to feel like too much, which was difficult to even admit to yourself without bringing up the stinging feeling that you didn’t really belong anywhere.
The next thought you were getting ready to spiral into was interrupted by Suguru’s hand quickly flexing, gripping yours as it began to float away from his palm. That single movement jolted you back to reality as his warmth radiated into your fingers. Picking your eyes up from the ground, you slowly traced your way from the joint in his right hand over to your hand being enveloped his left. There weren’t any words being spoken, but when you looked up his eyes were silently asking you what your deal was. What could you possibly say? The jelly response from earlier was taking effect from feeling Suguru pull you closer towards him. Now, your right knee was hovering centimeters away from Suguru’s shin as he held your hand like he was asking for it -- the way you saw in the old paintings at the art museum, where the gentlemen bowed and kissed the women on their knuckles like they were sacred treasures.
“Come on,” he grinned, content with how the space between you had shrunk. “Don’t get all shy on me, you were being funny.” His thumb swiped over your knuckles affectionately. You fought the urge to scream aloud. That electric feeling from Saturday night in Satoru’s room suddenly made itself known somewhere in your gut, next to your small rib. Between the struggle to catch your breath, slow your mind, and respond to him, you were fighting for your life. A whirlwind in a split second. The part of you that felt frozen from fear was beginning to thaw under his gaze. A wave crashing here, while a butterfly lands there. You could only blame yourself for the silence that followed. Too embarrassed to acknowledge your embarrassment, you silently crumbled instead. You were worse than a deer in headlights. You had become straight up roadkill. Any distraction was highly welcomed at this point. A breathy chuckle left his nostrils as he noticed you glancing down at the diminishing joint in his hand. He shook his head slowly, a silent tsk tsk tsk resounded from his expression.
“Here you go,” his voice had dropped down to a lower register as he lifted the joint to your mouth, his palm turned out so you could take your hit. The gelatinous feeling was starting to wear off. Warm smoke, that almost stung your already dry throat, brought back with it the coherent flow of thoughts again. Suguru is so hot, was a loud, resounding thought as you gauged how turned on you were by both his words and his actions. Especially now, with his fingers brushing against the soft skin under your chin and his eyes boring into yours as you inhaled and exhaled slowly.
“How romantic,” you teased him, suddenly brought back to life by the inhalation of marijuana. What seemed like a flush of warmth washed over Suguru’s face, but before you could really tell, he pulled his hand back to take another hit for himself. The tip of your tongue silently found its way to your upper lip, trying to taste the residue of the paper, trying to chase the feeling of being practically held by Suguru, but only meeting the smoky herb flavor the weed left behind.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever gotten that before,” Suguru said with an exhale of smoke, his voice sounding flat. His sight locked in the near distance when he spoke, a small change that triggered the feeling of being far apart from him, even with your hands still enveloped in one another. Was he that easy to get used to? By the time the joint had shrunk down to a nub that neither of you wanted to scorch your throats on, you were genuinely lost in thought -- mind floating somewhere away from your electrified body. Sitting inches away from Suguru on the school’s rooftop garden. Holding hands. The haze in your mind made it a bit difficult to fully wrap your mind around the situation. It felt nice, but it was strange how easy it was to feel this nice. The moment of silence you shared allowed you to really think, or just sloppily ruminate on the situation. This is what you wanted... right? Something about it felt a little unreal. Suguru motioned to you, nonverbally asking to repeat the intimate gesture of feeding you the next hit. You politely shook your head, looking into his eyes. You wondered silently if he was going through the same thoughts as you.
“What have you gotten?” You heard yourself ask. Once the words left your lips, your top teeth clamped down on your lip, like it needed a restraint to keep it from moving before asking what you really wanted to know. Suguru’s deep brown irises pulled you in just to leave you dizzy with their vastness. You were stirring again -- treading water to avoid drowning in him. He must have felt you coming back to yourself, opening yourself up for him. Suguru smirked.
“Mmm,” he tilted his head mischievously, fingers twiddling against yours as he feigned contemplation. “I don’t know if I should reveal all my cards...” He dropped his expression, eyes meeting yours in an attempt to measure your reaction.
“What cards?” you practically blurted out. The high rushing through your system had reared itself through lack of filtered speech. “I mean, we’re already holding hands,” you buoyantly tapped his fingers back as a physical reminder. “How well could these alleged ‘cards’ be tucked away?”
He stayed silent for a moment while his hands stilled. Eyes on the tiny remnants of the joint you smoked together as he fiddled with it between his free hand’s thumb and forefinger. What he was thinking was a mystery to you. All you could do was try to study his expression through heavy lids, but Suguru was a professional at keeping a poker face. Of course he can keep his cool while he’s high.
Then you remembered what happened a few days ago. The feeling of his hand crashing down on your skin. The way the air felt electrically charged afterwards. A small voice in your head woke up and whispered, you’re not imagining things, and suddenly his poker face wasn’t all that intimidating to confront. “That’s what I thought,” you said, with a lot more confidence than the girl who had to host an entire council meeting in her head should probably have. Suguru’s laugh brought your focus back, just as you were starting to feel in control of the whole situation.
“What’s what you thought?” He asked, his voice a little defensive. The lack of stoicism caught you off guard. He placed the butt of the joint on the cement planter behind his right shoulder, causing his hand to slip from your grasp. As cool as the air between you felt, you chose to pretend like it didn’t mean anything to lose that skin to skin connection with him.
“I didn’t mean to strike a nerve,” you said, arms up like you’d been caught robbing a bank. Feigning innocence only made you look more guilty in his eyes, and you could tell. His expression seemed like it was almost rooted in disbelief -- furrowed brows and a growing smile. Suguru parted his lips multiple times to speak, but no words came up. You, however, were more than able to make some noise. Throwing your head back dramatically, you practically cackled at him. He sat there in what seemed like shock, mouth agape, fighting back an amused expression. This time you could read him, relishing in the attention -- even if it was a mixed response. You couldn’t help but become even more emboldened by him.
“Don’t worry,” you began, leaning forward into his personal space, you condescendingly tapped him on the nose like you would a dog. “I’ll stop teasing you so much... maybe.” You smirked as you lifted yourself up, weight shifting slightly to your shins as you hovered above your seat briefly. Before you began to settle in your seat once more, and in that split second Suguru’s hands flew up to grab you at your waist. Now it was your turn to be breathless. The smile painted on your face shrunk while Suguru’s grew wider. A shifting of tides you could’ve expected, but didn’t. And how could you while treading water? His hands held you steady, keeping you in place. If you wanted to lean back into your spot on the bench, you would’ve had to remove yourself from his grasp. You knew you’d never want to pull away from him.
So, there you were. Being propped up by Suguru. Caught up in a web you didn’t even realize you were roping yourself into. His hands felt much bigger than they did when they were feeding you the joint a minute ago. You had to silently remind yourself to breathe while the gentle pressure of his grip held your small rib together. Once you were able to meet his gaze and notice the calm expression behind his low lids, you felt unsteadied all over again. The air in your windpipe got caught and while you tried to clear your throat, you began to lose your balance. Your hands landed on his shoulder, unintentionally closing the gap between the two of you.
He didn’t seem bothered by this though. Suguru’s eyes traced your features, taking in every slope, curve, every movement of your shaky irises as they tried to make sense of what they were taking in. He watched you try to steady your breath and let out a little laugh once you caught yourself against him. Cocking one of his brows, Suguru couldn’t hide his amusement -- amusement totally based in arrogance.
“So, you don’t tease me anymore, huh?” His hand slid up your waist, dipping behind your shoulder blade and stopping at the center of your spine. Opening your mouth to respond, you couldn’t. The same fumbling of words you had just made fun of him for was now happening to you, coming back to bite you in the ass. Thankfully the distraction of the pain from your knees made itself known. You quickly glanced down, shuffling uncomfortably. Suguru must have noticed this as well. “Here,” he said sweetly, his hands manipulating your positioning to twist you, bringing you closer to him and taking the pressure off your knees. “Is this alright?” In all honesty, the question took you by complete surprise. As did the rest of this scene unfolding before your eyes. You were practically pressed against Suguru’s stomach as he held you by your right side, your faces only a few inches apart. Was this alright? You weren’t too sure, yourself. With your right arm pinned against his chest, your left arm tried floating away from his shoulder where it previously lay. Suguru smiled a smile that almost gave you chills.
“Yeah,” you practically whispered, eyes matching his intense gaze. From this angle you had to look up at Suguru and his grin. His face with all those flowers in the immediate background made it hard for you not to smile back. This was starting to make sense now. You were finally making out the full picture. The last couple of years were not a completely misread cue. That felt good to realize. You tried to speak to him telepathically, you wanted to tell him how right it felt being held by him. The silent moment between you felt louder than the busy intersection below them. “I mean,” you cleared your throat, trying to gain control of your ability to speak. “Is this alright with you? You’re kinda... you know,” your left hand motioned all around the two of you, gesturing to the lack of space between you and the intimate gaze you worked together to uphold. “Unless, this is just what being friends with you is like --,”
“You want to be friends?” Another metaphorical punch to your gut. Again, you found yourself at a loss for words, trying to comprehend him, but genuinely unable to believe the words coming out of his mouth. A vast warmth spread from your gut and into your face, leaving you breathless.
“Uh,” you started, trying to look anywhere other than straight at Suguru, an impossible task. He remained stoic, however. He pressed his lips together slightly as he watched your reaction to his words. His right hand floated up to find your left hand and brought it to his chest. Hot, you thought to yourself hurriedly, taking in a deep breath of air in an attempt to soothe the rushing feeling you were experiencing in your stomach. It felt inadequate to name them butterflies at this point. It was kind of comical the way he had you. The way you were so easily pushed to this point. Suguru was surprised to hear you let out a giggle.
“What?” He asked, laughing back at you with a sweet expression. You weren’t sure what to say to him as he eagerly waited to be let in on the joke.
“I’m just not sure what we’d be if we weren’t friends,” you responded, calmly. Yet, you remained anything but calm on the inside. It felt like you were at a negotiation table. Like any misplaced word would blow the entire deal being made. You glanced down at his lips, curious if you were able to get him by his tongue like he did to you. Suguru had been nibbling on the inside edge of his lower lip. Brows furrowed slightly, you could tell there were gears turning in there. The question was in which direction they were turning in. You couldn’t ever tell when it came to him.
“Well,” he started, eyes breaking away from yours to find your left hand again, his other arm still around you, still holding you. Suguru picked it up, his fingers dancing across your palm. You let it tickle, your eyes waiting for the next drop of a syllable from his lips. “We could be really close friends,” the pads of his fingers lined up with yours. He sort of applied pressure, almost pushing your hand back, using the resistance to move both your hands in a little dance. The hair on the back of your neck stood up at his words. You fought the urge to cock an eyebrow in obvious intrigue as he continued to speak. “You know --”
“The kind that cuddles on a bench after class in the rooftop garden?” You finished his sentence for him, playing into whatever shy game of beat-around-the-truth he was playing. Looking up into his eyes, you thought you saw a hint of surprise. You laughed again, your fingers dropping between his, interlacing themselves -- beating him to the punch. Suguru didn’t look shocked, but he did look somewhat impressed with you. “What?” You asked, wanting to confirm what you already believed to be true; that you were tripping Suguru up as badly as he was tripping you up.
“Well, shit,” he admitted some sort of defeat, a smile painting his lips. His fingers that were interlaced with yours had come to life. Soft passes of his thumb over your skin sent distracting waves of excitement to the storm in your gut. Suguru was fanning the flames of a fire, and you refused to think he wasn’t privy to the fact. Your eyes fell to your hands entwined with one another -- his tan skin against yours, the subtle movement of his hair, anything was better than looking at the boy in front of you. Trying to read his expression constantly was beginning to tire you out. “Maybe I’m getting carried away,” his voice caught you by surprise. He wasn’t looking at you either, but softly into the distance beyond the two of you. “Sorry,” Suguru concluded, beginning to stir in his seat.
“Sorry for what?” You asked, noticing the movement from his thumb stop and you started to hope the question would be enough to keep him there and in the moment with you. You weren’t even sure what you wanted from him, but you know you didn’t want him to pull away.
“I don’t know,” Suguru responded, his tone reticent. The silence that followed felt more burdened with his resuming of eye contact. “I think I might be coming on a bit... strong.” His words escaped from his lips like a confession. Without realizing, his voice had gotten quiet, like he was embarrassed by himself. Something rang loudly inside of you. It was a stunning scene to take in: Suguru’s confidence being leveled by his own humility, his own inability to wear a mask.
He really is like me, you thought to yourself as you began to recognize the ways he was putting up walls that were just laid down for you, the doubt that swam behind his eyes as his touch began to falter into something less secure. Most of all, you could see the slight shame that came with all of the racing thoughts. Maybe ten minutes ago you were in the same position. It was Suguru that coaxed you out of that mindset when he took your hand in the first place. The two of you were inches from one another, you were practically laying in his lap, his biceps flexed as they held you close to his body -- how did he feel so far away?
The hand that you had resting against his chest found its way to one of the pieces of Suguru’s hair that framed his face, wrapping it delicately around your index finger. Nervously chewing the bottom of your lip, you watched as his gaze rose up to meet yours. You were so close to touching his face, but that felt like such a direct violation of his personal space -- too intimate. Without words, you tried to talk to him, to tell him he was safe. It was like trying to replicate the results of a ritual; the blueprint Suguru created of how to bring someone out of their head. Fighting to avoid eye contact with him, you continued to playfully twirl his hair. The silent, subtle pressure building between the two of you while you did your best to break back in was hard to ignore.
“That’s kind of exactly what I thought after you dropped me off at home on Saturday,” you broke the silence with the small confession. Watching him closely, you saw him search for meaning in what you just told him. Placing pieces together, recalling the events that took place not that long ago. It was Suguru’s turn to raise a brow at you.
“Do you not get touchy when you’re high?” He asked, struggling to conceptualize what exactly you meant. You couldn’t help but laugh at his question considering how close the two of you had gotten during a private smoke session. Letting go of his hair, your hand found itself under his jawline, near his neck -- almost cradling him.
“You’re so cute,” you admired him between giggles, bringing levity to the compliment that slipped from your mouth. If Suguru caught it, he didn’t react. “I definitely get touchy when I’m high, if it wasn’t already obvious,” you said, lifting up your intertwined hands as proof of said touchiness. “And if you were coming on too strong... I don’t know,” you started, but because you were unsure exactly how much you wanted to reveal, you paused. All it took was remembering how Suguru had gotten you out of your own personal spiral. He took a leap himself in grabbing your hand. In pulling you closer to him. “Do you think I don’t like it? This whole ‘coming on strong,’ business?” You asked, taking in his reaction as you spoke without realizing how closely he had been listening to you all along. Taking in every word, but somehow struggling to accept them while you held him so sweetly.
Suguru’s silence was slightly concerning just because you couldn’t seem to get a solid read on what he thought of this whole thing; what he thought of you. His eyes silently maintained contact with you, even when you weren’t speaking. The air between the two of you remained empty, even when you thought he’d be responding to you by now. Silently wondering what Suguru’s deal was, your thumb slipped over his jaw bone tenderly, giving him the same silent reassurance he had given you with his thumb. You didn’t expect to find his pulse, and as you tried decoding his stoic expression, you certainly did not expect to find his pulse racing as rapidly as it was. At that very moment, you remembered being in the car with him on Saturday night and being confused at what he was thinking. Your thoughts had pushed themselves into a self conscious territory based on his lack of reaction to your touch, but he had the same expression painted on his features then as he did now.
His dark eyes were just boring into yours -- the more you gazed back into them, the more confused you felt... the more drawn in by him you felt, the more intoxicating it felt to be in his arms and as close to him as you were. Your palms may have started to itch as you felt them warm up. As his hands moved from holding yours, to sliding down the small of your back to bring you closer, your mouth went dry. Unable to form words, you surrendered to retaining the memory of his hands along your spine and how warm your hand felt being gripped by his. Breathless, without words, you must have expressed your confusion, your frustration, your curiosity through your expression. Suguru squeezed your hand gently once before pulling you even closer with the other. The two of you were less than an inch apart. Just as you registered your pulse racing, he leaned forward to erase the space between you entirely.
18+. the many times you & higuruma get caught at work.
I. case one: the evidence locker ( 8:12 PM )
higuruma hiromi is dark pressed suit, two rings on his long fingers & a moral compass that always points north. you’re a paralegal with skirt 3cm below the dress code & a magnet in your molars that has hiromi’s compass swiveling south.
you’re tugging on his tie now. “come onnn, ‘ruma. please?”
a paralegal should not be referring to their boss as ‘ruma. they also should not be dragging him into the evidence locker at 8PM to look for a ‘missing file’ he swears doesn’t even exist. you’re currently doing both. and higuruma lets you.
your lips are summer sticky & far too hot. your hand’s in his hair now, nails on his nape, his palm bunching at the folds of your skirt. your breath’s ridiculously hot in his mouth as you huff & puff against his tongue, shoving him against the lockers. hiromi slaps your ass when you dare to let out a whine.
BANG !
the loud sound jolts your bodies apart. higuruma’s palm is still on your thigh—“hiromi ?!”
“the auto-lock,” his palms drag over his face. he breathes, “it’s eight-thirty. the basement seals automatically till the morning shift.”
he lets out a low, frustrated groan that vibrates through your rib. even now, you’re still pressed against him, half-clothed tits pressed into his chest as his thumb grazes circles on your hip. he dials a number with his other hand, ignoring the sloppy, gloss-drenched kisses you leave on his jaw as he speaks to the security desk at the end of the line.
half-an-hour later—after higuruma’s stewing & you calming him down with apology head, complete with your hair tied in a sympathy bun of course—the heavy metal door drags open. a security guard armed with a flashlight walks in. he’s greeted with the sight of higuruma buttoning your shirt, sympathy bun long come undone.
you’re free. and you’re in so much trouble.
★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.
offense: UNAUTHORIZED AFTER-HOURS ACCESS & BREACH OF SECURITY
punishment: Written warning & $500 Penalty fine for Emergency Override.
issued by: Levi Ackerman, Chief of security.
CC: Higuruma Hiromi, [Y/N] [L/N]
‘the evidence locker is no place for ‘private deliberations.’ and keep in mind all audio is recorded. in no world should the word ‘tight’ be moaned in an emergency distress call.
II. case two: encrypted outlook thread ( 12:21 PM )
higuruma hiromi ought to teach you a lesson.
frankly, you’re the worst paralegal he’s had the mispleasure of working with since joining pearson hardman. he can’t help but envy his rival, phoenix wright, and his paralegal, maya fey!
you’re much too forgetful, too busty, too disorganized. at 9AM today the files for the high-priority danganronpa case were due on his desk. they didn’t reach him till eleven, and you had the audacity to add on a sticky note labeled ‘sorry!’ and ‘meet me downstairs for some apology head ;)’. higuruma hiromi has concluded that you never learn.
so he decides he’ll teach you himself.
Subject: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case
From: Higuruma Hiromi
To: [L/N], [Y/N]
Y/N,
Not only were the documents I requested for prep late, they were also extremely disorganized. This is a serious case regarding kidnapped and murdered children, and I suggest you exercise some more seriousness and be more meticulous in your conduct. You also left an implicit sticky-note attached to the files. I suggest you come visit my office, lest I file a formal complaint.
Regards,
Higuruma Hiromi
—
Subject: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case
From: [L/N], [Y/N]
To: Higuruma, Hiromi
Counselor,
Are you threatening me with a complaint? I’m just doing my job. I did notice your tie was a bit crooked today, though, so I’d be happy to come fix it for you when I swing by your office. Or take it off completely. Let me know when you’d like me to drop in and fix those files!
Regards,
Y/N L/N
—
Subject: RE: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case
From: Higuruma, Hiromi
To: [L/N], [Y/N]
Y/N,
You can come fix it now. And then I’m going to fix the way you think you can talk to a Senior Associate. I will lock the door, and you will not be released till you admit exactly how much of a headache you’re deliberately trying to be. Don't test me, [Y/N]. I’m a very patient man, but even I have limits.
Higuruma Hiromi.
ー
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case
From: [L/N], [Y/N]
To: Higuruma, Hiromi
ruma,
i suck at corporate speak 😭 are u saying ur gonna eat my pussy orrrrrr
—
Subject: [SECURITY ALERT] KEYWORD FLAG / SERVER SCRUB
From: Hange Zoë (IT Department)
To: Higuruma, Hiromi; [L/N], [Y/N]
CC: Human Resources (General Inbox)
Hi Hiromi, [Y/N],
Just a friendly heads-up: I’m running the quarterly server audit and the 'harassment/explicit' keyword filter just went off like a fire alarm on your thread. Specifically because of the word 'pussy.’
Sorry to intrude on your corporate sexting session! I’ve paused the sync to the main server, but the automated log has already been forwarded to the Senior Partners. You guys might want to check your calendars. Erwin at HR just opened a new 'Conduct Investigation' folder with both your names on it (uh oh!)
Best of luck to you both! And Y/N, I could be wrong, but I think his last message was implying BDSM; though I don’t doubt he’d be willing to eat you out as well!
Happy eating!
Zoë Hange
★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.
offense: MISUSE OF COMPANY COMMUNICATION CHANNELS / EXPLICIT DIGITAL CONDUCT
punishment: Mandatory 2-hour 'Digital Ethics' Webinar & temporary monitoring of all outgoing firm emails.
issued by: Erwin Smith, Head of Human Resources.
CC: Higuruma Hiromi, [Y/N] [L/N]
‘It has come to our attention that the Danganronpa Case thread was used for ‘personal negotiations,’ that which our investigative committee has concluded were most likely inappropriate. Please refrain from using the firm’s Outlook servers as your personal Wizz/Tinder moving forward. And Higuruma, we expect better from you. Please report to room three on floor six after lunch break. The door will not be locked.’
III. case three: company zoom meeting ( 5:04 PM )
higuruma hiromi thinks he’s so fucking smart.
he also thinks he’s the king of calendar invites. so when he tells you to send out an email for a company zoom meeting for 6PM but set the zoom’s actual time to five, he supposes his intellect rivals god.
“you’re late, y/n,” higuruma’s voice is close to guttural. he’s laid back on his desk chair, tie loose, legs spread, hair impossibly messy. and you’re knelt on your floor, laptop on your thighs.
you’re sporting the cutest little bath robe higuruma has ever seen. you’re grinning at the screen, cheeks peach-dappled & lips bent in a clumsy smile,
“hi, ‘ruma! wanna see my tits?”
lord, how higuruma adores you !
and who is he to say no? he leans back against his seat, swivel chair groaning with a creeeaaak. he’s already unzipping his pants as you begin to shrug off your pretty pink robe, breasts glazed over & supple in the fluorescent light.
a tiny, bright green notification pings at the bottom of the screen.
[Participants: 48]
higuruma freezes. then rises up, palm curling off his shaft & inching towards his keyboard.
slowly, agonizingly, he clicks on gallery view.
forty-six pearson hardman employees stare at him back.
erwin smith looks like he just witnessed a war promised to him 2000 years ago. hange zoë has a measuring tape held up against the screen. his rival, phoenix, is making a face that reminds him of the many memes of that one streamer you’d often send him—i show meat? levi ackerman has already left the meeting—he knows because the notification flashes at the corner of the screen.
and right there in the center box? harvey specter, senior partner of pearson hardman ltd, has his chin in his hand & eyes intensely locked on to the screen.
is he looking at your breasts ?
oh right, you! you’ve been calling out for the past one minute now, completely unaware of the other forty-six employees watching your wet nipples glisten in the light.
“‘ruma? ‘ruma? ugh, is this thing on?”
higuruma slams his laptop shut. it bangs louder than the gunshot that killed charlie kirk.
★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.
offense: PUBLIC INDECENCY / TOTAL BREACH OF FIRM REPUTATION
punishment: Termination of Employment (Effective Immediately)
issued by: Harvey Specter, Senior Partner ; The Board of Directors.
CC: Higuruma Hiromi (RESIGNED), [Y/N] [L/N]
‘Hey guys! Harvey here. So after a meeting with the rest of the board, we’ve come to the decision to terminate your employment. Higuruma, your resignation letter has been duly received. Gonna be completely honest, that was the last thing I ever expected to see in a corporate meeting. But you two really spiced up my evening, thanks! I tried to negotiate with Jessica and the other directors on your behalves, but sadly they weren’t having it.’
P.S: ‘Nice cock, Hiromi! Very impressive both length and girth wise. And sorry for sneaking a peak at your chest, Y/N. At the very least, your boob job looks very natural. Best of luck to you both!’
It's really funny how art can be so important and enriching and sometimes downright life-changing but every single piece of art about how important and life-changing art is is the lamest shit ever.
lot of people online who were not shot in the head by the taliban at age fifteen for insisting on their right to go to school while being a girl have a lot of opinions about the woman who was shot in the head by the taliban at age fifteen for insisting on her right to go to school while being a girl
never lose hope. somewhere, a middle-aged, gender ambiguous person with an advanced degree in an esoteric field and a fiber arts hobby could be crashing out and pinning all their remaining mental health on getting obsessed with your otp. any day now, the most elegantly written 100k fanfic you have ever read is going to hit ao3. it could happen. it has happened.
It IS true that being on here gives you a tumblr accent. This morning my mother asked me something and i replied "i don't know i've never heard these words in that order" and she nearly choked laughing. It wasn't even that funny
at my old job i had a coworker who was tired and made a coffee with like 6 or 8 shots of espresso and i just casually went up to them like “are you trying to meet god?” and not only was this absolutely hilarious to them but they brought it up in future conversations they thought it was so funny but to me this was just as casual as saying “woah that’s a lot of coffee”
Being funny on Tumblr and then going to be funny in real life is like traveling to a foreign country and baby the currency exchange rate is biased in your favor
the kids were left at your parents’ house for the weekend, giving you and toji some much-needed alone time.
dinner was barely touched. the second the front door clicked shut behind the last goodbye hug with the kids, toji’s big hands were already sliding under your shirt, mouth hot against your neck, mumbling about how he’s been dying to get you alone like this for weeks.
now you’re here.
face down, ass perched right on the edge of the bed, legs dangling, trembling. toji stands tall behind you, thick thighs spread, one hand palming the fat curve of your hip while the other guides his heavy cock to your dripping entrance.
“arch that back baby, yeahhh that’s it… get that pussy over here.”
his voice is low, gravelly, dripping with that lazy hunger only he can pull off. the fat tip nudges your sopping folds apart and then he sinks in slow, stretching you so wide, forcing your walls to yield around every pulsing inch.
a broken little whimper spills from your lips the second he breaches you.
“fuuuck… still so tight, ma. swear i fucked this little cunt open a million times already,” he groans, hips rolling forward another inch just to hear you gasp. “and you’re still chokin’ on me like it’s the first time.”
your fingers scrabble at the sheets, legs already shaking from the brutal stretch, your body trying to crawl forward on instinct.
his big palm cracks down hard on your ass.
“where you goin’? c’mere.” he yanks you back by the hips, forcing another thick inch inside. “y’said you wanted this dick, remember?”
you whine, high and needy. “t-tojiii… s’too much…!”
“quit whinin’ now. you always take it so good f’me, don’t you?” he coos, his tone mean and sweet at the same time.
one more deep thrust and he bottoms out completely, balls pressed tight to your clit, tip kissing your cervix so hard your vision whites out for a second.
then he starts moving. long, heavy, delicious strokes that make the whole bed creak. your back stays perfectly arched because his fist is tangled in your hair now, keeping you right where he wants you. face buried in the sheets, drooling into the pillow, sobbing and screaming into the cotton while he fucks you senseless.
“just like that… biiig stretch, yeah?” he growls, watching the way your pussy creams around his shaft, slick dripping down your thighs. already forming creamy white rings around the base. “feel that, ma? feel how deep i’m hittin’?”
“y-yes! yes— oh god, tojiii—!”
“uh-huh.. i know baby, i know.” he leans over you, chest to your back, sweaty skin sticking together. he turns your head to the side with a rough tug on your hair so he can shove his tongue into your mouth. he spits right on your tongue before kissing you again, swallowing every little needy cry you give him.
his free hand snakes around to grab your throat, not choking, just holding. “gonna breed this pussy tonight,” he rasps against your lips. “fuck another baby right into you. make me a daddy again, hm? that what you want?”
you can barely think, let alone speak, but your hips push back anyway, greedy for more. “y-yes… wan’ it… wan’ your baby…!”
“that’s my good girl.” another hard slap to your ass, then both hands grip your waist so he can really rail you, hips snapping so fast the sound of skin slapping skin fills the whole room. “fuuuck— look at you… just layin’ there gettin’ fucked like a perfect little slut. lettin’ me use this tight cunt however i want.”
your legs kick uselessly, toes curling, pussy fluttering and gushing around him every time he kisses your most sensitive spots.
you’re dumb on it already. mind blank except for the thick drag of his cock and the way he’s splitting you open over and over.
“g’nna cum— tojiii—!”
“go on then. cream on this dick while i stuff you full.” he grinds deep, hips circling, making sure every ridge catches your sweet spot. “gonna pump you so full you’ll be leakin’ me for days.”
you shatter with a loud wail, walls clamping down so hard he hisses through his teeth. he doesn’t stop. keeps fucking you through it, chasing his own release until he finally slams in one last time and unloads, hot and thick cum filling your insides, flooding your womb while he groans your name low.
he stays buried inside long after, lazy shallow thrusts to push every drop deeper, hand rubbing slow circles over your lower belly. as if he knows it’s already there.
“maybe another kid doesn’t sound so bad after all…” he murmurs, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to the back of your neck. “bein’ a dad looks real fuckin’ good on me, don’t it, pretty?”
you’re still panting, twitching, smiling stupidly into the sheets.
