I Would Fuck Him Too Tho - Tumblr Posts

BACKSTAGE BACK ARCHER! toji fushiguro

★ summary: Toji has a little too much fun with his #1 biggest fan. The paparazzi can’t stand you and neither can his die-hard groupies.

cw: mean! dom toji, humiliation, semi-public sex, pussy spanking, degradation, oral (m/f) -> toji eating it from the back, almost caught, hair pulling, praising, squirting, manhandling, toji spits in your mouth, toji uses your moans as ad-libs for his song, creampies, brat taming, mdni.

★ note: re-post because this shit got flagged thirty mins after i posted it, dick riders man 🤷🏽‍♀️. this is edited from a old work that was a short drabble / hope u guys enjoy !! xx

“Behave yourself, little girl.”

You nearly rolled your eyes at Toji‘s words as you sat beside him in the big conference room that was surrounded by multiple journalists, paparazzi, and even some of Toji and his band‘s groupies— yet of course, his fans of women gave you weird stares, the bright lights of the camera glare nearly blinding you. They were all scheduled to have a public conference to talk and promote their next breakout twenty-track album titled ‘Soprano Screamer.’ Still, you couldn‘t believe just last week you managed to hook up with your favorite celebrity rockstar— Toji Fushiguro, it was like it was yesterday.

Ever since then, you‘ve been going with him everywhere. Toji didn‘t exactly mind— he figured that’s what all groupies acted like, he was the most conceited and arrogant of his band after all— maybe that‘s why he was the ultimate fan favorite.

. . . The more you listened to the journalists and publicists ask the four members a plethora of questions, you got bored. Really bored. Now you sort of regretted coming. They answered various questions about their album, and talks about their overly charged ticket prices— blah blah. You kept giving Toji occasional glances though, and he always looked so handsome. He was typically dripped in nothing but leather most of the time, his rich black hair nearly messy a majority of the time— some strands reaching near his thin obsidian-colored eyebrows. The skin-tight shirt he wore underneath his leather jacket perfectly exposed his jacked pecs— you couldn‘t help but stare. He was so fit. That’s when you decided to get bold and slide a hand underneath the long rectangular-shaped conference table, and rub your fingers against his knee.

“We all wanted the album to focus more on the aspects and downsides of Vegas—” Toji abruptly paused for a brief moment at your action, and you nearly giggle as his band-mates stare at him, confused about why he suddenly stopped speaking.

Toji grabs onto your hand underneath the table, and you feel his rough fingers rim and swipe against yours—feeling the numerous amount of his tungsten silver rings, the coldness of it rubbing against your hand as he squeezed your hand— probably a gesture for you to behave, like he said.

Minutes passed though— and you nearly ended up dozing off, about an hour‘s probably passed and they were all still talking. The paparazzi scattered in the room probably stole some embarrassing shots of you falling asleep beside Toji— though, you felt the strong urge to be a brat today. Toji gave you a brief glance as you did the cliche ‘oh, i dropped my pen on the floor’ scenario underneath the table. You crawled down right next to Toji and he doesn’t really think anything of it— so, he goes back to discussing with the publicists about their upcoming album that was for sure probably going to be another best-selling hit by them. You lay on your knees, staring at Toji as he was bouncing his right leg up and down as he spoke— was it to calm his nerves? He always told you how he despised conferences. But regardless— you scooted up close underneath the table between his legs and then Toji pauses his speech mid-sentence once again.

And that‘s when he heard you unzip the fly of his pants.

Toji glares down at you from underneath the table, not even realizing the interviewers were calling his name.

“Uh— repeat the question..?” He lowly rasps, wrapping his fingers around his water bottle, hearing the cheap sound of the plastic sing out a high pop and crackle.

You nearly let off a tiny chortle— your hands slowly and freely unbuttoning his tight leather jeans, small fingers slithering their way towards his personalized expensive designer ‘Fushiguro’ white and black boxer briefs— before single-handedly pulling out his already hard and erect length. Toji lets off a tiny grunt, feeling your hands wrap around him— but he doesn’t exactly stop you which catches you by surprise. He was just as long and thick as you remembered— a slightly curved upward shape, pink tip a bright angry red, leaning a bit from the inner part you couldn’t help but give it a few tiny kitten licks and kisses.

“Mr. Fushiguro, are you listening . . ? We wanna hear more about your uh— groupie,” An interviewer speaks, it’s a middle-aged woman with frizzy auburn hair, freckles scattered everywhere on her face and a poor attempt of hiding her cleavage through her blazer. “Y/N . . is that her name? Is she your girlfriend?”

“She‘s— she’s not my damn groupie,” Toji subduedly grunts— facial expressions starting to slightly contort once he‘s feeling your warm lips start to wrap around his length. This was so risky. He knew you had some sort of spunk, but not this kind of spunk. He‘s impatiently tapping his fingers against the wooden table— feeling you slowly and teasingly work your way to the top, starting from the very bottom of his hefty base. The way your tongue swiped against his skin before it trails up and up slowly, feeling his veins on his length against your tongue before reaching the tip again. “No, we aren’t dating. She’s just another fan of mine. That‘s all..”

Ouch.

You couldn‘t really be bothered by that, Toji and you were always hooking up on the low— not that you minded, really. It was really no strings attached, or was it?

“….Brat,” he quietly grumbles underneath his breath before clearing his throat— preventing himself from letting off a raspy moan once he feels you starting to gag purposely on his erect phallic. “. . . Shit,” he choked, feeling your right hand softly wrap around his base, you were so sloppy— spit trickling down the sides of your mouth while he stared down at you, pretty natural long lashes fluttering— eyelids starting to before half-lidded just a bit. “Dirty bit—”

“Yo. Toji,” one of his bandmates that sat directly next to him says— Ripper, nudges him on the arm, making him draw back and pay attention. “What‘s up with you, man? Talking to yourself again? And where did Y/N go?”

Toji‘s eye twitches— feeling himself growing closer and closer and you kept sucking him off, going at a reasonable pace yet agonizingly slow. The way you went up and down, eyes flickering at him while he watched you briefly rotate your wrist in a clockwise circular motion— your hand completely mimicking your moves in the process. The way your tongue brushed against the sensitive parts of his tip sent him shivers to run their course all throughout his body before he subtly bites on his lip, “Don’t,” he swallows— letting off a low grunt, and that’s when he shoves you down further on his length— hearing you gag. “. . . Don’t worry ‘bout her. She’s busy.”

“…Whatever man. Pay attention to the damn press.” He scoffs, shrugging before taking a sip of his rhinestone-covered glass bottle, the name of the band plastered on the side with bold black and white letters.

Within about ten minutes— Toji came, right down your throat. He pretended to have a cough attack, and it was overly dramatic— in attempts to hide his own release as a thick load poured into your mouth. You happily took him, your tongue was soft and loose, tracing over his tip while he’s got a firm grip on your hair before you realize the band‘s promotional press conference was over.

“Get up.” Toji glares.

You crawled from underneath the table, swiftly swiping your tongue against your lips— noticing how everyone had already left and it was just you and Toji now before he grabs your hand, dragging you out of the room.

“The conference‘s over already?” You giggled.

“Shut up,” He mutters, and you can barely keep up with his pace— he sounded so angry, you couldn’t help but have a smug grin appear on your face. Maybe a part of you wanted to slightly get Toji back for humiliating you with what happened the first time you two met. The whole tinder date incident— so embarrassing. Having you moan all loud while your date was on the other line listening. “Someone forgot to know their place.”

You gasped— Toji having you over his lap as he sat in the black squeaky chair inside his personal music studio, presenting you with spank after spank after spank until it rang into your ears as if they were wedding bells.

“You’ve got some nerve, brat,” Toji murmurs in a raspy voice— he hears your cute whines, having your fingernails dig into rich fabric of his pants leg. “Sucking me off.. while I’m at a press conference? Couldn’t fucking wait, huh? Just had to have something shoved down that needy little throat,” and then he scoffs, gripping the fat of your ass for a brief moment before spanking you again. “Bet it got you wet too.”

“. . . I was bored,” you moaned— nearly chewing on your bottom lip as if it was candy— Toji gave you multiple spanks, the palm of his hand kissing your right ass cheek, but it felt good. So good regardless of the harsh sting. He‘d pause for a few moments to softly caress and rub against your rear only to spank you again, causing you to fumble over the words you were about to spit out in that sweet tiny voice, “F-Fuck Toji..”

All you could do was stare down at the carpet floor of his well-kept studio— bent over the rockstar‘s lap. “Stop. moaning. every. time. I. spank. you,” he emphasized, pausing through each smack against you. His raspy low words only made you let off louder whines as you gripped onto his ripped jeans— before you let off a giggle that you didn‘t mean to slip out. Toji was about to present you with yet another spank but stops— and you left off a soft whine, pathetically starting to miss the faint sting hitting against your bare cheek, the way your pretty pink and denim shorts were so close to the very edges— you could have basically been wearing underwear. Toji didn’t even have to take them off, he just lazily pulled them up just enough to have your ass on full display for him. “You’re not supposed to be enjoying this, slut.”

“Sor—”

“Shut up and bend the fuck over,” Toji cuts you off— and you nearly gasp once the bassist sits in his chair, lightly shoving you forward to where your chest rams against the keyboard propped in front of you. He watches you slightly arch your back, he didn‘t even have to tell you— you had both arms crossed and folded against your chest as you awaited his next move— letting off a tiny moan once you feel him yank your shorts down to your thighs before spanking your pre-soaked pussy. “Need you to do something for me while I eat this bratty little cunt out. You’ll listen, right?”

You sibilate a tiny whimper once his hand thwacks against your throbbing wet folds. “Y-Yesss,” you whined, feeling Toji teasingly rub a hand between your legs before spanking near your soaked folds again— dragging out a whimper from you.

“Put those headphones on,” he instructs in a low voice— feeling you wriggle your ass just a bit. You stared towards his desk where lots of scattered sheets of bawled-up lyric papers, sheet music, and music equipment remained, “Play my unreleased track,” he continues, and his voice gets dirtier and dirtier— you let off a tiny whimper once you feel Toji race a thumb down your throbbing slit. “Turn on the mic, and moan as loud as you want while the song plays. Want my fans to know how much of a nasty girl my number one fan is when I release this shit to the public.”

“Okay…” You uttered in a small voice— picking up the black folded headphones that had Toji‘s last name ‘Fushiguro’ in gold printed on it. There was some tape wrapped around the sides— and as you put the headphones on, starting the track— the music was calm at first, the bass that was being played by Toji was blaring, hearing the sound start out with Toji singing a few words in his raspy low voice— an alluring low voice that was responsible for the many dropped panties of his thousands of female fans.

Toji swipes his tongue against his lips at the sight of you bent over his desk— shorts hanging down your sides with your pretty laced panties nearly torn because of him. “That's my good girl,” he purrs before bringing a chaste kiss to your left ass cheek before abruptly smacking it hard without warning again— making you whine. As the music sings to your ears— you‘re hearing the drums start to play before feeling Toji‘s tongue introduce itself to your pulsating clit. “So sweet,” he murmurs before out of nowhere— he starts slurping, barely giving you any time to adjust. “Moan into the mic, whore.”

Your mouth slightly opens as the chorus starts to play— the rock music ringing into your ears as your noises slither it‘s way into the mic-piece attached to the headset— Toji‘s slowly and seductively lapping his tongue against your folds at a sensual pace that’s enough to send you on a crazed high, in an almost dizzy trance. Some of his black hair strands tickled against your skin and you gasped— hearing the loud suuuuck noise Toji made with his mouth, slurping you completely dry. His eyes were closed as he ate you out— rough scarred hands both spreading your ass— as well as your pussy in the process as his tongue dragged up and down slowly, making your mouth hang low. “Mhmmm- Fuckkkk Toji,” you cried out, nearly forgetting how sloppy he was. If you tried to squirm away he’d just grip onto your hips tighter— low grunts escaping his lips as he made sure to graze his tongue from up to down, not missing a single spot. “S—Shit…”

As he‘s slowly flicking his tongue— the lyrics of Toji’s song continued to blast through the headphones— the thumping repetitive beat vibrating in your ears as if it was a gaming controller. Toji’s tracing all sorts of shapes, numbers, and even letters with his tongue, he’s sucking against your puffy slit, chin already starting to shine and glisten with your sheeny pretty slick. Your eyes nearly started to roll back within seconds— he‘s happily slurping everything out of you, occasionally giving you a spank to keep the arch on your back. “Good girl,” he grumbles, and you whimper softly— feeling the soft tip of his nose brush against your pulsing folds. “Moan louder in the mic.”

“But—”

“Y/N.” he spats back instantly in a low voice— departing his lips for a brief second, making you whine from the sudden lack of stimulation. You were so close to release— so so close. His voice was full of dominance with a big rasp to it as his pink glistening lips weaved together from just saying your name.

You whimper, cutely thwacking your left fist softly against the keyboard that you laid against on the desk— tears nearly poking in the corners of your eyes, moaning loudly into the mic piece of the headphones— the song was quite long, it’s probably passed seven minutes by now. You let off a tiny moan, feeling Toji spit on your drenched folds before sucking harder, and that makes your thighs start to shake and shake violently. “I-I’m close Toji. Gonna come Toji.”

Toji hums to himself— pink tongue dipping against your folds, it was a slow pace but still was enough to make your knees buckle and your tongue nearly loll out of your mouth as if you were some dramatic exaggerated character. “Pretty please,” Toji grunts, the swift movements of his tongue growing faster— he was so hungry for the taste of your cunt, your moans only grew louder and louder. The bass reverberates against your ears through the headphones as you kept listening to the sultry lyrics being sung by Toji, hearing your own whines and moans echo back against you and it was embarrassing. “Say it.”

Immediately you stammered. “Pretty p-please,” and you felt shockwaves start to heavily crawl everywhere on your body— preparing yourself to see pure splotches of white while Toji‘s tongue worked itself against your savory candied folds.

“Go ahead.” He purrs— seconds later, and he watches you fidget and squirm, letting go on his tongue and your climax is so loud and overly dramatic as always— he finds it so cute.

You’re sent into immediate convulsions as your body spasms— you‘re quivering as Toji’s still holding both sides of your thighs apart before chuckling, warm breath fanning against your pudenda.

Toji stands up and you watch him lean against his desk— where the keyboard was and pressed a button to stop the music before removing the headphones off your head before he stares down at you with half-lidded green eyes. He was so pussy-drunk, you were caught by surprise when he pulled you into a deep sloppy kiss.

He lifts you up and sits you up on his desk, one hand lightly wrapping around your neck and you moaned into his mouth— tasting the sweet sticky mess that he made from eating you out, tasting yourself. It was so filthy. Toji tasted like liquor— the cheap kind that you can almost never get enough of, it was purely intoxicating. Enticing. His lips were smooth against yours— you gasped, feeling him between your legs with yours wrapped around his slim waist— and he brings a free hand down to squeeze and maneuver circles around your sensitive cunt. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close, and you could practically hear your heart beating through your ears like a drum. You couldn‘t help but start to question yourself each time you were intimate with Toji, your idol— your favorite rockstar.

Were you… starting to fall in love?

Just thinking that thought made you cringe in the slightest— you knew Toji had a wife before, but that was quite some time ago before his fame. He’s never been one to settle down after their explicitly public messy divorce— but you were sure he’s had his fair share of many various hookups with women. So what made you any different?

Yet here you were making out with him— and there were moments where he was gentle with you, somewhat protective as well. He beat up a paparazzo who took pictures of you without you knowing once— and you‘ve never seen him that pissed before. On the media, Toji was described as a arrogant, heartless, and highly conceited man who cared about nothing but himself— alas of course this lead to him being the fan favorite of his best-selling rock band. Perhaps it was his stoic charisma that drew people in. That drew you in.

Toji pulls away for a brief second— and he cups your chin while staring down at you. “Heyyy,” he purrs lowly, a thumb tracing against your dampened lips. “I know you’re nasty. But are you nasty enough to let me spit in your mouth, pretty girl?”

Your facial expression is a cute look of surprise at his words— seeing the salacious smirk tugging against his lips as he watched you slightly open your mouth with his fingers still gripping your chin, slowly formulating out your answer.

“Y-Yes.”

“Really . . You’re so weird. I’d figure you’d tell me no,” He chuckles before making you tilt your head back just a little, a thumb rubbing against the side of your mouth. “Heheh. But whatever, little girl. Stick out that tongue and open that mouth for me.”

Your eyes become half-lidded as your tongue slightly lolls out— Toji‘s staring down at you, gathering a good amount of spit before watching it trickle down inside your mouth. You moan at the taste of his sweet saliva— he‘s still gripping tightly onto your chin with another rubbing against your cunt that’s still sensitive from climaxing— the stimulation was enough to completely cloud and fog up your brain.

“Swallow,” Toji mutters in a raspy voice before smirking, watching you immediately swallow before you stared up at him. “Good. Now gimme another kiss, baby.”

Toji watches you before you sat up, pulling him into another sloppy kiss— you feel a smile press against his lips as his tongue runs against yours at a soft pace, shaky breaths colliding against each other and he feels your small hands eagerly unbuckle his belt— another sliding underneath his shirt— fingertips racing against his perfectly chiseled pectorals that flexed against his tight white tee that was worn over his leather jacket.

But that‘s when you pull away after a while— lightly shoving Toji to sit on his black chair while unbuckling his pants.

“Well excuse me,” he hums in a haughty tone that’s quite playful, watching your fingers run against his designer sparkling belt— unhooking it before pulling his pants down— eyes immediately darting towards the very hem of his black boxers. His bulge stuck out proudly, and embarrassingly enough you nearly started to feel your tongue start to salivate. “Gonna ride me again? Heh. last time you did that you kept whining with little tears streamin’ down your face. It was really cu—”

“…..Shut up, Toji.” You glared, growing embarrassed and he just chuckles, mockingly placing his hands up with an eyebrow raise and a smug grin— a teasing way of him showing how he’d let you do your thing.

Toji‘s got a mean intimidating gaze as he watches you slowly plop on his lap— aligning himself against you, slightly chewing on your lip at the feeling of his tip prod against your entrance. He keeps his mean-jaded colored eyes fixated on you the entire time— and he reaches to grab onto your waist but you slap it away. “Oh..?” He snickers.

“No touching me, Toji.” You mumbled— nearly letting off a soft whine from feeling him stretch against you— Toji‘s size continued to expand between your folds and it felt so good, already enough to make you eye-roll.

“Sounds to me like you’re tellin' me what to do, girl.” Toji scoffs, leaning back against the chair, his voice lowering seductively— and it’s clear he doesn’t take you seriously at all.

“That’s because I am.” You replied back.

Toji stares at you for a long time— that tiny condescending smirk never leaving his lips before he smiles to himself. “If you say so,” he sneers, and his voice gets real low that it reaches all the way down to your cunt. “Y/nnnn,” he rolls off his tongue— and it has no right sounding that dirty, so tantalizingly sensual. You let off a soft whine and Toji‘s halfway in, still stretching you, regardless of how overly soaked you were. “Awww what‘s the matter,” he purrs, an eyebrow-raising at your legs nearly turning to complete mush— pretty nails digging into the thighs of his skin. “Looks like the dumb little fan needs my help. Can’t take me like she really thought after all, huh? Poor thing..”

He was so smug, the epitome of the word entirely.

But if it was anything that pompous arrogant bastard knew how to do— it was without a doubt that Toji Fushiguro knew how to please a woman.

“Mmmm,” he grunts, bringing a mean spank to your ass once you started to finally move your hips— the recoil of the smack getting him hard as he gripped your left ass cheek for a moment before pulling away— staring up at you with a sly grin. “Good girl. Take—” he groans, giving you another spank. “Take this dick. Ride it like you own it, slut.”

You rub your sweet glossed lips together— as your hips rotated against Toji‘s torso— you’re bouncing on him and watch him lay back sexily, throwing his arms behind his bed— such arrogance. The friction left you feeling so dizzy, each pat pat pat being made drove you to nearly complete insanity. Your eyes glazed, nearly rolling back as the angry reddened tip brushed against your sweet spot, earning out soft whimpers from over and over like a broken record. The pace was enough to send you over the edge already— within minutes you were coming close and he could tell by your body language and how louder and louder you got each time.

“F-Fuck,” you moaned, his shaft filling you up so full— stuffing you right, almost as if the season was Thanksgiving. Each angle kept getting hit and pounded against repeatedly— struck and thwacked with his tip kissing that same candied spot earning of little cries from you. “Tojiiiii.” you’d whine— and he watches you lean in close to him— wrapping your arms around his neck. He’s caught by surprise— were you . . . hugging him? Toji lowly chuckles next to your ear— a rough hand soothingly grazing down your back with another clinging onto your waist as he held you.

"Aren't you cute," He purrs against your ear, you let off a soft moan once you felt the rough fingertips of the rockstar grazing up and down your spine— as well as the feeling of his cold rings racing against your bare skin, your pretty shirt that was halfway on now, Toji was so so touchy as you rode him, sneaking a few fingers to wrap around the back of your neck as your face buried into his chest— his cologne nearly intoxicating you as if it was some rich alcohol. "Heh. Is someone close?"

You nodded with your head buried into his neck— your moans were so candied and sweet, his cock repeatedly making you dig your pretty nails into his thigh. You grew hot, scorching even from feeling his tip reach deep deep into your walls that hugged around him tight like a vice.

"Tojiiii Toji—" you babbled, arms cutely wrapped around him, nearly suffocating him but not quite. But that's when you let off a gasp, feeling his fat tip prod against that same exact spot that always made you cry out. "Toji I'm—"

Toji watches you pause your hips for a moment— your breathing shaky before your walls burst like a balloon, combusting and exploding entirely. Your body jostled before he runs a hand down your spine before darkly chuckling. "Sweetheart," he hums over your loud dramatic orgasm. Fat tears stuck to your lashes like glue before he laughs. "Did you— did you just squirt on me?"

You tried to catch up with your breathing, feeling a bit dizzy and you felt sticky— Toji was still inside while you sat on his lap, facing him and he had such a smug expression, you wanted to smack him.

"No..." You looked away.

"Awww. I don't think I've ever made you squirt before," he purrs, viridescent eyes flickering up and down at you— the cool air of the studio brushed against your skin as you felt your face grow hot from his words. Toji then brings a soft kiss to your neck. "I think I'll do it again . ."

And now, after multiple positions, you find yourself laid over Toji's studio desk— both hands pinned behind your back while Toji held onto it, drilling his cock mercilessly in and out of you as if your cute little cunt was his own personal little fleshlight. The way he's rolling his hips against you makes you whimper out— your head's practically being shoved against his desk, the only things in your blurred eyesight were the scatted papers of sheet music being in your face as Toji took you from behind.

"H-Harder, Toji. Fuck me h—"

"Don't tell me how to fuck, little girl, he snarls, giving you a spank and you moan, tongue nearly starting to loll out of your mouth— glossy lips being laminated with spit. The rumbling sounds of the frail wooden desk as you're being pounded ruthlessly against the desk constantly kept ringing in your ears. He's bullying his cock between your folds to where your eyes start rolling again, gripping the desk with your back arching fully like a cat. "Good girl. Keep that pretty back arched and—" he pauses for a moment to swallow. "Take it. Take this damn load I'm about to give you too."

"Toji—" You whined, his grip remained on him pinning your wrists behind your back before within seconds Toji's grunting, his voice almost irritated as he's shooting rich velvety ropes to where it practically reached your womb. It's incredibly warm, and you feel so stuffed full to the complete brim. His breathing gets a bit heavy as the rolls of his slow down— your mouth starts to water once you feel him pull out, keeping his shaft in hand while rubbing the excess remaining of his seed against your pussy, back and forth and you whined as he's watching it pour out of your pretty cunt. His reddened angry tip kisses against your folds before he gives your ass once more spank.

"Good girl," Toji hums, and you watch him put his briefs and ripped jeans back on. You panted, glancing up at him while doing the same before you couldn't help but let your intrusive thoughts speak for themselves.

"Toji . . ?" You muttered, staring up at him.

He looks down at you, that same smug smirk tugging on his lips, regardless of some of the beads of sweat racing down the side of his forehead— he swipes a thumb near the side of his lip where the slashed scar remained before raising an eyebrow. "Hm.”

"I think I love you." You spat out.

. . . . .

The rockstar stares at you for a long time before letting off a laugh. "Oh baby," he spoke in a raspy voice, grabbing onto your chin and you stared at him, glaring at his response— then again, it's Toji, of course, he'd react this way. "Heh. You're serious?"

"Yeah." You replied in a vexed tone, furrowing your eyebrows.

". . . Who wouldn't love me," Toji speaks in a rough low, giving your ass a squeeze as he makes your body press against him. His entire demeanor is seductive, he was a heartless man— Toji only cared about two things, money, and fame. Without a doubt, he was for sure a womanizer, and you were stupid enough to fall for him.

After that, you sort of stopped seeing Toji— more so because you do have a life regardless of spending the majority of your time with your favorite rockstar. But on this particular day, you weren't really feeling good. You barely felt like getting out of bed, it was a regular Sunday afternoon— it was flu season, and you decided to go and make a check-up to make sure that all your shots and records were up to date.

You swang your feet against the bed, the cold doctor's room that smelled like pure latex and hand sanitizer before you whipped out your phone, scrolling through your messages.

About ten minutes later, your doctor— a middle-aged man with fawn brown hair and a bored resting face, a few wrinkles painted on his face as he held a clipboard with what you assumed to be your results of whether or not you were sick.

"I'm all good right? I don't have the flu or anything?" You spoke in a soft voice, placing your phone in your lap.

"No, you don't have the flu," Your doctor replies in a low voice, re-positioning his glasses with two fingers before staring at you with a smile. "Congratulations though, miss Y/n/?"

"Congratulations...?" You repeated, furrowing your eyebrows, confused. "For what?"

The doctor nods before grinning reassuringly with kind hazel eyes. "You're two weeks pregnant."