☆彡 Billie Jean ☆ミ
kento nanamixreader
you’re a full time college student, who typically enjoys the night life and the company of hookups. so, imagine your surprise when you take a pregnancy test as a joke at a party and it’s positive. yikes. you don’t know the father; it could be this guy, or that one. you break the news to your nerdy roommate, nanami, and you notice he starts to leave you leftovers and folds your laundry. what you don't know, is these favors are him trying to find a way to tell you to move out.
content: sfw, afab!reader, pregnancy trope, nerd!nanami, college!au, 86'd the sorcery
soundtrack ⋆｡°🎧ྀིི.⊹₊ ⋆ naked - ella mai
wc: 5.9k
inspired by this tweet. i'm not a huge fan of pregnancy tropes so i hope this reaches the target audience. <3
“Girls seriously have the craziest ideas for party games.”
Your friend Gojo leans back on the couch, shoulder-to-shoulder between Suguru and Shoko. He’s thrown one of his usual gatherings at the fraternity house, involving your whole friend group. You presently sit on the floor, next to your other friends Nobara and Utahime. Awkwardly enough, you hold a solo cup full of unused pregnancy tests in your hand.
“Well, who asked you?” Nobara snaps at him, leaning forward to pluck one of the tests from the cup.
Utahime and Shoko move to grab one as well, and that leaves one test in the cup for you. Now, the fun part, each girl goes into the bathroom, takes a test, and writes their initials on the back. Then, you will reveal them all at once.
It was a stupid idea you’d come up with. You know the chances of anyone being pregnant are very low, but it gets the suspense kicking and hearts racing.
Suguru lifts his beer into the air with a grin. “I hope all of you are pregnant, then we’ll get a new mini friend group.”
“Hell no,” Shoko shakes her head. “I’m dropping it off on your doorstep the minute it’s born.”
“‘It’ is not a very polite way to describe my niece, Ieiri,” Gojo says, matter-of-factly.
“I’m going first,” Nobara says, moving to stand, roughly pushing her way through all of the board games and empty solo cups that litter the floor.
It would be the most disturbing if she popped up pregnant out of everyone; she’s just a freshman. You’d taken her under your wing, and you’re not sure you could handle helping her through motherhood as young as she is.
She comes back a couple minutes later, and then Utahime goes, and when she’s done, Shoko heads off.
“Alright, your turn,” Shoko grins at you. “You’re the last one, so no peeking!”
You grin up at her and stand. “I won’t, fair is fair.”
You’re not the slightest bit nervous about yours being positive. You’d hooked up with a couple of no-names since your last period, but you’ve got an IUD. Nothing to worry about.
You stand up with your test in hand, and you feel Gojo’s eyes on you.
“Kinda funny how you’re all literally having a pissing contest,” he says, his tipsy eyes blinking slowly like a feline, a drunk smile stretching across his face.
You hear the girls snap at him as you make your way to the bathroom, shaking your head at his stupid joke. You sit on the toilet, open the test and do your thing. When you finish, you hurry to put the cap back on and get your initials written before it processes. Then, you flip it over on the counter with the rest of the girls’.
You leave the bathroom and join everyone back in the living room.
“We’ve got to wait at least three minutes for mine to finish,” you announce. “Then, we can all go in there together.”
“Yeah, six people to a bathroom, that’s not going to be awkward.” Suguru shakes his head.
You blink at him. “Well, we’re not holding you at gunpoint. You can stay here.”
He lowers his eyes into a glare. “I hope yours is positive. You could use a baby to soften your ass up.”
“Alright, ladies,” Gojo raises his hands in protest. “Let’s not lose our tempers.”
“Suguru is really just mad it wouldn’t be his,” Shoko snickers.
“Ew, never,” he retorts, but he doesn’t meet your eye.
You shake your head. “Okay, it’s surely been three minutes by now with all of this yapping. Everyone ready?”
Nobara nods ecstatically. “I would like the panel to know: if mine is positive, we’ll be taking a road trip. So, clear your schedules.”
Utahime kicks her in the ankle. “Bad joke!”
Nobara shrugs. “And I’m not joking. Outta my way, I’m itching to see the results.”
She shoves past everyone and enters the bathroom first, but waits for you, Shoko, and Utahime to enter before grabbing her test.
You reach for yours, keeping it overturned, until Shoko and Utahime are also ready. Despite your earlier spat, Suguru is right behind all of you, being as nosy as Gojo, ready to see the results. You take a deep breath. You have nothing to worry about.
“Okay, on three,” Utahime says, “good luck, ladies.”
“One…”
“Two…”
“Three!”
You flip your test over. It’s the kind that either says pregnant, or not pregnant. You read the word “pregnant.” But you don’t see the word “not.” You think you must not have seen right. You reread it over and over, but the result doesn’t change. Everyone around you is cheering at their negative tests for several seconds before anyone notices you standing in silence in the corner, shock all over your face.
You hear your name. Nobara walks up to you, putting her hand on your shoulder.
Her eyes fall on the test in your hand and she snatches it from you, but you still cannot move, nor can you speak.
“Very funny,” Gojo says. “You guys can’t keep a poker face for too long.”
Utahime leans over Nobara’s shoulder and then gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh…”
Suguru busts past Gojo in the doorway. “What? What’s everyone– oh.” His eyes fall on the pregnancy test.
Pregnant. Pregnant. PREGNANT.
The result keeps playing in your mind’s eye even though you no longer have the test in your hand. They’re passing around your piss on a stick like it’s some kind of toy. Meanwhile, Shoko snatches you up into a hug.
“Hey, whatever you decide, we’re here for you,” she says. “Is that what you wanted?”
“No, of course not,” you say, your voice dry as you manage to croak out the words. “What am I going to do?”
“Well… for starters, who’s the father?” Utahime asks.
“I… don’t know for sure,” you admit. “There’s a couple of contenders…”
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Gojo puts his face in his hands. “Well, you’ve gotta tell whoever they are. Especially if, you know, you’re not… keeping it.”
“I can’t bring myself to, um, not keep it,” you say, but your stomach feels like it’s in your shoes and your heart won’t slow down from its rapid beating.
Becoming a mother will be hard, and scary. You had always wanted to, just not right now. And without knowing who the father is, you’ll be all alone until the baby is born and you can take a DNA test. Even then, will either man be willing to step up to the plate? They were both random frat brothers who are only focused on partying and fucking. You can’t see them being willing to give all that up and join you in parenthood.
“I… I’m sorry,” you grab the pregnancy test back from Utahime, who currently has possession of it. “I need to go home. I need to think.”
“Can you drive?” Suguru asks, concern in his voice.
“I’m feeling quite sober, thank you,” you swallow thickly and push through the murmuring sea of people. Behind you, you hear a “boys, make sure she makes it to the car,” and it makes you cringe. You just want to be left alone.
You rush to the front door, but Gojo and Suguru are hot on your heels. They shout after you as you go down the stairs, across the lawn, to the road where your car is parked. Their voices feel so distant. Everything feels distant. You just want to curl up into bed.
They call your name in sync, and it finally gets your attention. You turn slowly, your fingers still gripping the test as if it might disappear if you let it go.
“Please, just let us know when you get home,” Gojo says. “We will figure this out as a team, okay?”
“I know we were playing around,” Suguru says. “But we’re serious about helping you. Please don’t feel like you are alone.”
“Thank you,” is quite honestly the only thing you trust yourself to say without breaking into full-body sobs. You go around to the driver side of your car and open the door, sinking down into the vehicle.
You can see the boys still standing in the lawn as you drive off. Though you are sobered, you are not clear-headed at all. You disassociate on your entire drive home.
When you pull up to your flat, your roommate’s car is out front. You had prayed he would’ve had a late night somewhere studying like he usually does - but of course, this is the one particular night that he’s home early.
You sit in your car for several minutes after pulling up, working up the nerve to go inside and be forced to at least make small talk with him. Luckily, the guy doesn’t know you very well, and will hopefully not detect that anything is wrong with you.
A few deep breaths to try and remove the flush from your face and a pep talk later, you exit your car and head to the front door of your flat. It's a delicate brownstone in the middle of a busy street, warm light pouring from the windows where your roommate has the living room and kitchen lit up. It’s late on a Saturday, and he’s indoors, probably watching golf. You’ve noticed he’s not much of a party animal like you are.
You shove your key into the door and with a few clicks, the door slides open with its usual creaking noise to greet you.
There sits your roommate, Nanami, on the couch, dozed off, his glasses falling down his nose. Blond hair sticks up wildly around his head, and his blue shirt is unbuttoned a few. You’d never seen him so disoriented.
You are grateful that he’s sleeping. It means no conversation. But when you go to close the door, it creaks again, somehow louder this time - and he stirs awake.
“Oh, you’re home,” he mumbles sleepily, swiping his hand across his face and blinking away sleep. He pulls his glasses back up into their normal position, and his hazel eyes meet yours.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” you blurt out, standing with your back against the door. “We really ought to tell maintenance about that creaking.”
“With all due respect,” Nanami says, pulling his glasses off and lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe the lenses - exposing a bit of chiseled stomach (and is that a blond happy trail?) and you have to avert your eyes to the ceiling. “I like the creak. What you do in your free time is your business, but you typically go out alone, and it lets me know that you’ve made it home safe.”
The sweet words warm the parts of your chest that aren’t tight. You smile bleakly at him.
“Well, I appreciate that,” you say. “Not to be rude, but I’m really tired and I just want to get to bed.”
“Oh, alright,” he says, but there’s something unrecognizable in his voice. “I suppose I should turn in, too.” He yawns and you smile and nod.
“Goodnight, then,” you say, but something in you hesitates.
You notice he’s not making immediate moves to get up. He notices you’re not walking away. Maybe you don’t really want to be left alone with your thoughts. But you have still not fully processed them. And you’re not sure how to break the news to Nanami. After all, if you plan to have a baby here, this is his house too.
“I’m pregnant.”
The words come out before you can stop them. You cover your mouth with your hand as if that’ll put the words back in there. But you can’t take it back. And now he knows.
“Hm?” he says, but his furrowed eyebrows confirm he had very much heard you the first time.
You close your eyes, and at the same moment, the tears that had been boiling behind your eyes begin to stream down your face.
“I… I know I just moved in,” you blurt out, faster than you can stop yourself. “And I know that this isn’t what you signed up for, but I’m keeping it.”
He doesn’t respond. He looks at you through your tears with an unreadable expression. But it’s not angry. That doesn’t matter. His silence is still disturbing to you. You can’t look at him any longer, so you speed down the hallway to your bedroom, sobs coming from deep within your throat.
You hear him calling after you, but you ignore it. You bust into your bedroom and crash down on your bed, burying your face into the duvet. You feel all of the fear and pain and confusion overtaking your body. You decide to let yourself feel everything because tomorrow, you will still wake up pregnant, and you’re going to have to be clearheaded when you come up with a plan to take care of this baby.
The following morning, you wake up with a headache. You can’t remember the last time you’d eaten. Besides, you’d probably drank your body weight at Gojo’s party last night.
Gojo. Oh no. You scramble around your bed to find your phone, which had slipped from your pocket overnight. Tons of missed calls. The group chat has hundreds of new messages.
Toru 🐻❄️: EVERYONE CONFIRM YOURE HOME
Kugisakiiii 😛🫰🏼: home!
Uta 💜: Homeee :)
Shoko 🍒✨: Made it.
Suguru 🙄: Y/N?
Toru 🐻❄️: HELLO??? Are u alive
Missed FaceTime from Toru 🐻❄️.
Missed call from Suguru 🙄.
New Voicemail (x2)
10:37am
You: sorry i crashed as soon as i got home
Toru 🐻❄️: o thank god ur aliveee
The group chat continues to go on, but you turn your phone back over and decide to take the morning to yourself. You need to grab something to eat, first, for sure.
You clamor out of bed and make your way to the kitchen. The house is quiet. It seems Nanami is either still sleeping, or already out for the day. When you open the fridge, you find your answer on top of a container of rice and salmon, along with a note.
“Extras from my breakfast. Enjoy :)”
Since when did he cook extras for you? There is an entire piece of salmon. Surely, he knew he wouldn’t be able to eat all of it. You blink away your confusion and take the food without more hesitance.
As you wait for it to heat up in the microwave, you remember that you had left your laundry in the dryer last night before you left. Usually, Nanami piles it into a basket and leaves it outside of your bedroom door. But when you go to find the basket, it’s not there. You continue down the hallway to the laundry closet.
There, on top of the dryer, are all of your clothes folded neatly. Your face heats a little at the thought of him coming across your underwear. But it’s too late to worry about that now.
You find yourself standing in the laundry closet, scratching your head. Why all of the nice gestures suddenly? Nanami has always been a gentleman to you, but for the most part your worlds are completely separate.
It can’t be because you told him you’re pregnant. At most, you’re only a few weeks, anyway. There’s no need for him to treat you like you’re nine months’ pregnant, unable to take care of yourself anymore.
You sigh, unable to come up with an answer before your food beeps in the microwave. The minute you begin to walk back towards the kitchen, the man of the hour himself comes through the front door.
Standing in the foyer, Nanami hasn’t noticed you yet. He’s looking down at his Apple Watch, tapping it furiously with his index finger. You realize why when you notice the droplets of sweat dripping from his hair, the tight compression shirt clinging to his torso, and the grey gym shorts that hug his thighs. He must have just come back from a workout.
You pause and clear your throat. “Um, good morning.”
Nanami takes a moment to pry his eyes away from his watch, but when he does, he stares at you through his glasses with an expression that feels like it could cut paper. “Hello. How did you sleep?”
The truth is, you’d slept like a baby. You wish you could tell him you slept awfully, but a crying session always results in the best rest.
“I slept very well,” you say, avoiding using verbiage about a baby. “Thank you for the breakfast.”
He nods his head and smiles, rather bleakly, you might add. “I know it’s not your traditional eggs and toast. But you’ll need more protein now, anyway.”
“Oh,” you bite your lip and look away. “Guess I do, huh?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” he sighs as he trails off. “You, uh, don’t seem very happy about the news.”
“I don’t know how to feel just yet,” you admit, walking towards him, trying to get back to the kitchen. “Sorry for running off last night.”
“It’s alright,” is all he says. Nothing more.
He’s being awkward. Something about him is hesitant, like he’s hiding something.
“Okay, well, I’m gonna go eat now,” you say, even more awkwardly, pointing to the kitchen as you walk past him.
“And I’m going to shower,” he says, taking a deep breath. “Ran four miles. Real stinky.”
“I don’t smell anything,” you say, more to yourself, trying to keep your eyes on the steaming fish as you pull it out of the microwave.
“Good to know,” he murmurs back, and then you hear his footsteps receding down the hall.
You bring your plate to the small kitchen table, which sits in front of a large bay window overlooking the sidewalk outside. Nanami has already pulled back the curtains or - maybe he never closed them from last night. You watch as people walk by. Couples. Singles with their pet. Mothers with their babies.
You suddenly see yourself. Rolling down the street with a stroller. The thought isn’t so bad. People love babies. You’d get all sorts of attention, make new friends.
You begin to eat. Your headache begins to subside almost instantly. You don’t feel nausea, yet. You don’t know if, or when, morning sickness is supposed to kick in. That’s the part that scares you. But morning sickness doesn’t sound nearly as scary as being all alone while raising this baby.
The next week goes by, and you make a doctor’s appointment. They tell you you’re six weeks’ pregnant with a healthy baby so far. You come home with a copy of the ultrasound and a recording of the heartbeat. It’s set in for you, now. You sit both in your room, tucked away, as if avoiding looking at it would make it disappear.
You haven’t seen your friends since last Saturday. You can hardly face them. This doesn’t stop them from checking on you every single day without fail, reminding you not to isolate yourself. But it’s hard. You’re embarrassed. You feel like you’ve already failed your baby. They’re doomed to not grow up in a traditional family.
As you sit on the couch feeling sorry for yourself, on a Friday night you might add, there’s a knock at the door. You aren’t expecting anyone, so you cautiously peek into the peephole. Nothing is there except for a package on the ground.
You haven’t ordered anything. It must be Nanami’s. You open the door and retrieve the package. It’s an odd size, not large enough to be furniture, but not small enough to be something that can sit on a shelf. The part that really throws you, though, is the box having your name on it.
Yep. Your name, this address. You shut the door with your foot and try to remember if you’d made any random purchases long ago. Nothing comes up.
Grabbing a pair of scissors, you shred through the tape and open the box. Immediately, the package inside begins to expand. It’s… a grey pillow. Not just any pillow. But one of those huge, curvy ones for pregnant people.
You blink in surprise, realizing this was sent to you. But by whom? You quickly send a text to the groupchat. Over several minutes, everyone confirms it wasn’t them. Only one other person knows about your pregnancy…
The front door creaks open. You remain on the floor with the torn box, packing peanuts and your comically large pillow sprawled across your lap. You look up like a guilty child. There’s Nanami.
“It’s here,” he says blankly. “Well, I hope you like the color.”
You don’t. There’s nothing special about the color. What’s special is the purchase.
“You got this for me?” you question in disbelief.
You notice he stumbles when he walks into the door. He pretends it didn’t happen `as he shuts it, adjusting his thin-framed glasses.
“Least I could do, I suppose,” he says. “You had an appointment today, didn’t you?”
You freeze. “I did. How’d you know that?”
“These walls are paper thin, darling.” He smiles lazily and makes his way to the couch, flopping down on it and leaning his head into his hand. “I heard you talking to someone about it on the phone.”
You wonder just what else he’s heard, if that’s the case.
“Well, thank you for the pillow,” you say. “My appointment went well, um, if you care.”
“That’s wonderful,” he says, but he’s still breathing hard. “I may have had one too many glasses of Brandy.”
“You’ve been drinking?” you question innocently.
Nanami laughs dryly. “We really don’t know much about each other, do we?”
You shake your head. “We’ve only been living together a couple of months, and we never agreed to be friends.”
“Maybe that is best,” he says, rubbing his temples. “I do hate to ask, but could you grab me a glass of ice water?”
“Oh, of course.”
You scramble to a standing position while Nanami watches. He throws his hands forward, his eyes wild.
“Don’t hurt yourself, please,” he breathes.
“I’m not fragile, Nanami.”
You roll your eyes and head into the kitchen, grabbing a tall, clear glass and filling it with ice - before pressing it against the fridge to retrieve cold water. Satisfied with the amount, you head back into the livingroom, and Nanami has removed his glasses.
This is the first time you've seen his face without his eyewear, and you must admit that while he looks handsome either way, you definitely prefer him without the glasses. You can see his face clearly, his sharp jaw, the small lines in his forehead from stress.
He’s at the top of all his classes, from what you’ve heard. He skips outings to study. He’s even picked up extra classes over summer. He is far too young to work himself like he does, and yet, you admire it.
“Here’s your water,” you say, holding it out to him.
He opens his eyes and looks up at you. Though you know his sight is limited, you can’t help but feel like he’s staring harder than usual.
“Hm, do you come with the drink?” he grins sheepishly. “Uh, what am I saying? Sorry about that.”
You hope he cannot see the heat that has risen in your cheeks, undoubtedly changing their color. “It’s alright. You have been drinking, after all.” You watch as he takes the water from your hand. “I knew you weren’t just some celibate nerd.”
“Hey now,” he furrows his eyebrows in playful offense. “I resent that. I just get a little bold when I drink.”
“Really,” you tease. “I’m sure you’re popular amongst the ladies when you try hard enough.”
He doesn’t respond. He’s chugging his water like it’s his last night on earth. When he’s done he lets out a deep breath, clearly refreshed, and sits the cup down.
“I truly hope you like the pillow,” he says, followed by a yawn. “Pardon me, I’m just going to shut my eyes for a second.”
You know what that means. It’s not even thirty seconds later that his head is leaned back, his mouth agape, heavy breaths coming from it to indicate he’s lost in a deep sleep.
You sigh and move to stand in front of him, leaning over him to grab the blanket behind his head.
He stirs and you freeze.
“Mm. You smell good,” he murmurs, and to your complete surprise, his hand shoots out, and his fingers entangle in the bottom of the shirt.
You swallow thickly, but continue to grab the blanket, and you then pull yourself away from his grip. His hand falls back into his lap as you unfold the blanket, laying it over his body and tucking it around his shoulders - making sure he’s fully covered before you back away and admire your work. Or maybe you’re admiring him.
You shake your head and move to clean up the mess on the floor, trying not to be too loud. This time, he doesn’t wake back up. You take the pillow off with you to your room and shut the door, laying it across your bed. It will proceed to become your cuddle buddy for the foreseeable future.
After that downright confusing Friday night, time begins to fly. Before you know it, you’re entering your second trimester, and you can no longer hide the baby bump that has begun to appear. Your classmates and family have begun asking and you’ve begun telling. And your friends - bless them, hold true to their promise not to abandon you.
It feels like every weekend, Uta and Shoko are dragging you out of the house to go baby shopping. Out of respect for Nanami, you keep everything locked up in your bedroom, but you are quickly running out of space.
He has continued on with his small gestures around the house, like leaving food for you; more like, he fully cooks for the two of you fatefully every other day. You have continued on with your separate lives, hardly speaking unless necessary, neither of you addressing the night he’d come home drunk.
But something has changed. He doesn’t sit out in the living room anymore, as if he knows he will have to encounter you if he does. He mumbles a greeting here and there, otherwise he just bows his head to you in passing.
It’s beginning to take a toll on you, feeling so alone in your own house, despite your friends encouraging you and being there for you. It’s already painful not having the baby’s father by your side. Must Nanami make it worse?
Finally, one summer evening, you walk into the house after a shopping spree and your frustration completely consumes you. You finally catch Nanami; he’s sitting at the kitchen table with a book open, a pencil scritching away on a piece of notebook paper.
“Kento.”
You watch as his shoulders and his pencil freezes. He slowly turns his head to look at you over his shoulder.
“Kento?” he questions sarcastically. “I must be in trouble.”
“Don’t play games with me,” you breathe. “You haven’t spoken to me in months. And I want an answer. If you’re embarrassed about something…”
He lets out a deep breath, tilting his head to each side as he cracks his neck. “We have never carried on conversations for long, Y/N. Why is it suddenly an issue?”
You feel rage creeping up through your chest. You aren’t sure if it’s the hormones, or him blatantly trying to downplay what you know to be true.
“Something shifted,” you say. “It’s like… you do nice things for me, but you can’t even look me in the eye. I’m just confused. I know that you didn’t expect this when I moved in with you."
“No, I didn’t.” His voice has suddenly changed. He spins in his chair and fully faces you. “Your pregnancy is going by rather quickly. You will be going into labor in only a few months. And… I don’t feel that this is the place for you to raise a baby.”
So, there it is.
He hadn’t known how to tell you that, essentially, you need to get the fuck out. And it hurts. Because it makes sense. But you have nowhere to go. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have moved in with a random man out of desperation.
“So why didn’t you just say that?” you snap, but your voice is dry and daring to crack.
“I didn’t know how,” he sighs. “You are rather vulnerable. I don’t feel right just throwing you out. If you have no where else to go, I would rather you stay than be on the street.”
“It’s alright,” you shake your head. “I’ll be out by next month.”
"Y/N, that’s not—"
“No, don’t worry about it,” you turn away and begin to walk down the hallway.
But you hear him standing. And he’s right behind you. You can practically feel his breath on your neck.
“We can talk about this,” he insists, following you down the hall. “We can come up with a plan.”
“No, I don’t need your help!” you shout. “I’m already doing this alone.”
“What?” you hear him say, just as you begin to turn into your bedroom. “But, you have your friends…”
“Friends?” you laugh, but there’s no humor behind it. “I don’t need friends. I need my baby’s father. But I don’t know who it is, Nanami. Sure, when I want to go to the park, I’ll have my friends. But when I’m up at three am with a crying baby, I will be alone.”
You watch each word hit him, and all he can do is blink at you with pity in his eye. This somehow makes you angrier.
“I didn’t know,” Nanami says. “You don’t have to leave, Y/N, we will figure it out.”
“We aren’t going to do anything,” you say. “You owe me nothing. It’s not like it’s your baby.”
He moves towards you. You’ve always known his frame to be large, but this is the closest he’s ever stood to you, and right now - he’s rather intimidating like this. You find yourself frozen against the frame of your bedroom door, unable to do anything but stare up at him with your eyebrows still furrowed. Yet, you find that your anger is melting away.
“I must admit that you have intrigued me since the day you moved in,” he says, but his voice is dangerously low - by dangerous, you mean for him. If he keeps talking like that… “You are so bright and yet so naive at the same time.”
You huff. “So, you think I’m stupid?”
“I didn’t say that,” he furrows his brows. “I would never say that.”
“That’s what naive means,” you turn your face away defiantly. You refuse to look him in the eye because you don't trust yourself.
“Naive just means someone who doesn’t see the whole picture of something,” he sighs. “Honestly, I was taken aback when you came home and told me you were pregnant. I thought it was obvious that I was jealous.”
“Jealous?” you blink stupidly up at him, pretending not to notice that one of his arms has extended against the wall above your head. “I don’t understand. Are you infertile?”
This gets a rise out of him, as he chuckles loudly.
“I don’t think so,” he says, his face creeping towards yours, prompting him to bring his voice even lower. “Maybe I did a better job at hiding my, uh, crush on you than I thought.”
His words come as a shock to you. It was obvious he at least found you attractive, and you figured he’d eventually try to sleep with you just for the fun of it. But you had no idea it ran that deep.
“Anyway, you can imagine the pain in my chest when my crush tells me she’s having another man’s baby before I even get the nerve to ask her out.”
“Crush?” you shake your head, clearing it of your spiraled thoughts for just a moment, and then you begin to laugh. “But you said it yourself. We barely even talked.”
“Do you think that matters when you’re slowly becoming infatuated with someone?” Nanami murmurs. “Every conversation, bumped shoulder in passing, is like feeding a little bit of a drug to an addict. It doesn’t matter how big or small. Being around you is enough for me. But…” he sighs. “I let my ego get in the way. I felt rejected. And the truth is, I just didn’t want to have to be faced with you raising the baby alongside whomever the father is, while I watched.”
You swallow. You don’t know what to say. This is a lot of information at one time.
“And when did you realize the father wouldn’t be around?” you question.
“Well… early on, but I had it in my head that you would move out anyway,” he says, a regretful sigh following. “So I thought my feelings would go with you and it didn’t matter. It’s just impossible as long as you’re still around.”
“So you wanted to throw me out so you could get over the disappointment of not fathering my baby?” you say, making sure you’re understanding clearly, since he thinks you to be so naive.
“Ridiculous, isn’t it?” He chuckles dryly.
“Well,” you giggle, a bit nervously, but mostly sincere. “The position of the father is currently open…”
He smiles but it’s a little sad. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that.”
“But it could,” you bite your lip. “Who has to know besides us?”
“Hold on,” he holds up a hand. “What are you saying, exactly?"
Maybe it’s your hormones talking. But something about his thoughtfulness, him checking on you and treating you like you might break if touched too hard has definitely not been lost on you.
You could just be lonely. But that doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you want him, and he wants you. And it doesn’t seem like he needs anything more than that from you.
“I don’t know if you know this, but the highest form of love is consideration.” You smile, reaching up to grab his hand, slowly pulling it towards your waist as you babble on. “Any girl goes crazy over a man who simply considers them. That happens to be you, Nanami."
“Well,” he smiles, satisfied, his hand finding the dip in your hip with ease - as if it’s always belonged there. “Then I suppose we have a deal, don’t we? But how are you going to suddenly explain that you know who the father is?”
“We’ve got five months and then we can pretend we took a DNA test,” you nod. “And admit that we hooked up in a drunken stupor several months prior. Nine months prior, to be exact.”
He full-body laughs at your preposterous idea, but you can tell he’s on board. His head has come dangerously close to yours now, to the point of seeing yourself in the reflection of his glasses.
“We can work on making it even more convincing, if you’d like,” he murmurs.
You feel like you can’t breathe. In a good way. Your heart is pounding out of your chest. Something about all this still feels wrong, unreal even. But maybe for once, you should just let your guard down and let this happen.
“And what do you suggest we do to achieve that?” you question… naively.
And oh, does he show you. Just by the way he pins you to the mattress like he has a point to prove, and ends up turning you every way except loose.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
omg i hope this isnt super unrealistic, i didnt wanna make it drag on, and i also had like three diff endings and ultimately step daddy nanami won. LMFAO..
ok enjoy idk erm bye!!
