#butter but hes asleep

[hqmillioncorn]

FFXIVWrite Day nineteen: Weal

With coco cocoda (and also @windupnamazu) coco cocoda

Vague Hildibrand 6.4 spoilers

Babycorn sat down alone in her chair. Everyone besides her and Cherrypit had already left the room and after Hildibrand. It was just her that hadn’t yet processed what exactly she had seen with the rest of everyone.  Could anyone really blame her?  “Um.” Butter poked her arm, he was a little worried when Babycorn didn’t respond. “Are you alright Bebe?”  Babycorn laid her head on her hands and just kept staring straight ahead.  “Uh. Huh?”  The concussion might have been making this ten-times worse too.

The last thing Babycorn remembered was watching Hildibrand run in front of her, taking a hit that was meant for her. It had filled her with a bunch of bad memories but after that she was drawing a huge, empty blank. 

It took a minute but she realized she was now lying on the floor. It was pretty comfy. 

“Bebe!” Cherrypit was also sitting right next to her. There was a crayon in his hand and a piece of paper in front of him. He must have been drawing something while she’d been busy sleeping on the floor.

Or at least, she thought she had been sleeping.

“Bebe! You ‘kay?” He waggled his crayon at her. 

“I’m fine Cherry.” Though that was pretty far from the truth. Her head kinda hurt and she couldn’t really remember how she got here. This sort of feeling wasn’t too unfamiliar to her but it had been a hot minute since something like this had happened to her. 

Not since that time she took a big tumble in Kholusia.

Babycorn looked around, she recognized this place. It looked a lot like the house that she and everyone had found Hildibrand sleeping in and just recently had found Pupu sick in too. Which meant she was in Radz-at-Han. 

“Yeah! Ding ding ding!” Cherrypit let out a cheer. “Bebe’s right!” 

He must have read her mind again to know what she was thinking. 

“As always!” She boasted, “Thanks Cherry! You’re the coolest, you know that?” Anyone that was anyone would be jealous of her super cool little brother. I bet they wished they had a little brother as cute and as smart as her’s. She had really missed him.

Cherrypit let out a happy laugh, and a whole bunch of baby babble with it. It probably meant something along the lines of, “You’re cool too Bebe!” Or Babycorn hoped it did. 

There were small little beds set up around the room. That’s when Babycorn noticed one that was pretty much right next to her. It was yellow in color and that’s when she recognized it as the same one that had pretty much been a constant companion on her adventures. 

From the time that she knocked herself out trying to fish in the Ruby Sea to the other time she accidentally ate a poisonous plant. That small little yellow bed always had her back whenever she had to take an unexpected nap during her travels. 

Weird though. She didn’t carry it around. So who did?

“Wuwu!” Cherrypit answered. “Peepee! Vegooo!” 

“Lunya and Peepo and Viggo?” Had they been the ones to put her here? 

Cherrypit nodded. “Put Bebe and Coco and Butts!” He stood up and began to run around the room. Babycorn tracked him as Cherrypit ran onto the ceiling and pointed down at something using his crayon. “Coco!” he helpfully told her.

Sure enough, under Cherrypit sat a confused looking Coco.

He had a little bandage on his head, it was pushing down a part of his fluffy hair and Babycorn thought it looked kinda silly. Babycorn couldn’t see it herself but she was wearing a similar looking bandage on her head too. 

“How long have you been here?!” 

Coco’s expression mirrored Babycorn’s, he was just as surprised as her. “W-What? How long have you been there?!” 

“I’ve been here the entire while!” Babycorn crossed her arms and pouted. 

Meanwhile Cherry was still continuing his journey across the ceiling, stopping right on top of another small bed. “Butts!” Cherrypit pointed. Unlike both Babycorn and Coco he looked like he was deep in sleep. 

Cherrypit put his finger to his mouth and let out a “shhhhhhh!” Just like Lunya had shown him earlier when he said he wanted to stay with Babycorn. 

“Oh! Butts!” Babycorn was a little surprised to see him here. “How long has he been there?” 

“...How long has he been there?” Coco asked. 

Neither had an answer.

Babycorn hoped that Butter wasn’t sleeping for the same reason Hildibrand was. He would probably be really scared if he found himself all by himself in the First. What would she tell Pancake?! She would gladly take care of Pancake while Butter was gone of course but would Butter be okay?! Maybe true love’s kiss would wake him too like it had done to Hildibrand! 

She did kiss Hildibrand right? That wasn’t a dream she just had? Hmm.

…What was she thinking about again?

“Hey Coco? Do you remember what happened?” 

Coco sat up, he put his hand on his chin to look like he was thinking really hard about something. And that was because he was. Try as he might, he was coming up with the same conclusion as Babycorn.

He couldn’t really remember what had happened, let alone why most of them were in here with the same bump on their head.

“No bump!” Cherrypit reminded them. He pat the top of his own head proudly.  

There was just one little memory in his fairly large and fluffy head from between heading out to help Pupu recover from his cold and now. 

“I think I did something really cool!”

“Huh?” Coco Cocoda? Do something? Cool????? “Like what?”

“I threw a ball into a basket!” Coco stood up and mimicked the movements he saw himself doing in his head. The reason why he had done something like this were a little muddled but he was sure of one thing. He looked really cool!!! “I went like-!  Wooooooosh! Pow! Pow!” 

Babycorn remained unconvinced. “I think you’re making that part up Coco.” She couldn’t remember any of what Coco was talking about. Not to mention the very idea of Coco pulling something like that was pretty unbelievable in the first place.

“Noooooo! It’s true!!!!” Coco cried, “You were there too! You saw it!”

“Uh. I think I would remember seeing you do something like that.” Babycorn scoffed. She prided herself on her memory. It was like a steel trap. She could remember the menu of every restaurant she had ever visited. Surely she would have remembered seeing a Coco ballin moment. 

“It sounds like you're just making something up.”

“Nooooooooo! Melmeltan was there too!” He was sure of it! If there was anything that he was sure of, it was that Melmeltan was there to look at how cool he was!

Babycorn scoffed, “Now you’re lying to look cool in front of Melmeltan? She already thinks you’re cool, you dummy! Leave some cool for the rest of us!!” How else was she supposed to win both Hildibrand’s hearts at this rate if Coco kept stealing all the cool moments from her.

“I’m not lying! She probably thought I looked super cool…!” 

In his concussion induced head he clearly remembered that Melmeltan had cheered him on and given him a trophy for coolest guy in the world and winner of her heart. Somewhere off to the right a ten year old Chocobo racer was sobbing into his hands. That would show him!

Babycorn touched the bump on her head again. It didn’t hurt as much as it had earlier, now it was just kinda sore. That weird feeling that she was forgetting something was still very much lingering though. 

“Here I’ll show you!” 

Babycorn turned her attention to where Coco had called out from. He was standing on his bed, a red colored materia in his hand. It was much smaller than a ball but it was pretty much the closest orb shaped thing Coco had on hand. “I’ll throw this into that bin over there! Then you’ll believe me!” Said bin was all the way on the other side of the room.

It might have been the concussion that Babycorn didn’t know she had but she actually believed that Coco might actually be telling the truth. At least, he sounded confident enough about it.  

“Okay! You can do it Coco!” Babycorn cheered.

Cherrypit had a bad feeling about this. Which he could only articulate by covering his eyes with his hands. 

“HiYAH!” Coco threw the materia with all of his might towards the bin.

At that very moment the door to their room opened. Lunya, Reese and Viggo walked in. In that order.

“Hey guys? Are you feeling b-”

The red materia that Coco had thrown hit Lunya right on the side of the head, knocking her down to the ground. Reese looked down at Lunya and then over to Coco with her mouth wide open in utter shock, completely speechless.

Lunya was alright, just on the floor. “Owwy.” Her voice was muffled. 

Coco was frozen. Out of fear and surprise that he had managed to throw something that hard enough that it would knock someone down. Mostly fear though.

“OOooOOh! Somebodys in troubleeee~!” 

Babycorn was glad it wasn’t her for once.

[wexhappyxfew]

IM HERE !! give the people (me) ❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜ for… Margie and Benny! :)

HI POET!!!!!! thank you *so* much for sending in this!!! it is highly appreciated in my lil corner of the world and terribly sorry it has taken me quite some time to get to as well!!! my summer has been so chaotic and busy - but! we are here now!!! THIS WAS SUCH A GOOD PROMPT!! I ATE IT UP!!! and plus benny and margie are both just being absolute sweethearts here! set in the time period where margie takes a nasty hit in Silver Bullets and it basically sends everyone spiraling. here's a look at the first night she's awake :) enjoy!!!

it was a wonder

(a/n): margie and benny being the sweetest peaches out there around each other, despite margie's clear and evident pain and benny's want to take all that pain away from her. absolutely. sobbing. them them them. anyway......im surviving the end of an internship so please enjoy my rare appearances here and there lmao. AND -- please enjoy for the margie x benny enjoyers!! <3

Despite being so far from the States, she almost felt like a small child again. In the way of, when she was sick, her mother and father doted on her life incessantly in a way that had made her for more loved than ever.

Caring for someone at their worst. Despite anything else.

Margie hadn't moved in over a day after coming out of the coma - at least they had said it was a coma. The nurses and the Doc hadn't been entirely sure what had been going on but assumed her body had been defeated after the prop blast that had exploded on top of the turret.

Everything hurt, her vision felt a little fuzzy still, and there was a persistent, deep ache in her shoulder and hip area that made her entire right side feel like it was entirely detached from her body.

"Here we are." Margie looked up and found one of the nurses - Charlotte or Charlie, one of the sweetest nurses there was on base - coming towards her with a plate, piled with eggs and toast, despite the fact it was nearly 2100. Margie couldn't fathom anything more than simplistic food on her churning stomach and was grateful for the sight.

"Plain scrambled eggs, some toast with some butter, should settle your stomach," Charlie said, settling on the edge of her bed with a smile, "how are you feeling?" Margie gratefully shifted her head with a weak smile and nodded.

"Thanks, Charlie," Margie managed out in a hushed whisper, voice hoarse, "I'm doing okay." Charlie gave her a knowing look and Margie dropped the facade.

"Do you have any more pain meds I can take?"

"I'd eat something first," Charlie said with a gentle smile, her face glowing even when she'd clearly been working all day, "we can give you a stronger dosage without you feeling queasy. Eat up, and then I can give you some more. That stuff from earlier should be wearing off soon anyway." Margie looked to her and nodded, shifting a bit uncomfortably and evidently with twinging pain. Everything hurt. That's just what it was at this point. All over.

"Sir, visiting hours are over." a loud voice called from the edge of the Med Bay - it was Virginia Stellhorn - one of the older and more experienced nurses on the ward, who clearly was not enjoying someone trying to disrupt her rules at this time of hour. Margie turned her head a bit to see a figure entering through the doorway and an angry looking Virginia Stellhorn behind him.

That being Captain Benny DeMarco.

"It's 2100, sir! Our patients need their rest, not all this ruckus-"

"I understand." Benny said turning to her as Charlie curiously peaked at Margie with a raised brow. Margie instead couldn't turn her eyes away from the sight of Benny there. "I just need to speak with a Sergeant M. Harlowe."

"Harlowe's in an immense amount of pain and would evidently not enjoy the likes of someone bothering her at this hour, now, would you please, sir-"

"Just for a minute." Benny said, quickly, "I….I visited and she wasn't awake yet, so-"

"Ginny!" Charlie called standing to her feet with Margie's plate of food, "I think Sergeant Harlowe wouldn't mind a guest, even though it's pretty late. It'd probably help her feel better, too." Margie watched as Benny turned to Charlie and then looked behind her. In an instance, Benny's face lit up with a smile and he raised a hand as if to wave.

If Margie's arms weren't wrapped, with one in a sling, she would've waved back. Instead, she attempted the weakest attempt of a smile that there was and watched as worry dawned his features.

"Charlotte Tarvers, we have rules and regulations to follow around here-"

"I know that, but-"

"Margie!" Benny was calling, moving past the two nurses, eyes set on Margie specifically as he hurried over, slowing down as he got to her cot in the lantern-lit darkness.

As he came to a pause there by the side of her cot, his eyes caught on her legs. Her one leg was covered with the blanket - completely fine - her other leg was wrapped in a makeshift cast, piled with ice along the sides, wrapped tightly and firmly. His eyes slowly crawled past her chest where she wore a loose button up, exposing the wraps around her stomach, slightly bloodied and stiff as she had shifted, before they traveled to her wrapped wrists and arms and shoulders. Her one arm slung in a sling, hands bruised and cut and covered in bandages.

It was a wonder that by the time his eyes had risen to her face, she was smiling - trying to convey the message that she was alright, she was fine, she was alive. She had a nasty cut along her chin, but Charlie had rewrapped it in the morning and she had said it was already healing nicely.

Margie was trying to stay positive. She was determined to get back out as her crew's flight engineer - she wanted to get back to Silver Bullets. Benny slowly took to crouching by her bedside, watching her with those big brown eyes, focusing solely on her face.

"Hey." he said quietly, a smile perking up on his lips.

"Hi." Margie said quietly with a smile, "Someone's quite the eager-beaver." Benny stared at her, the corner of his mouth poking up, eyes filled with a tinge of relief - as if to say, she was okay, okay enough to still make light-hearted jokes. Benny let out a chuckle and shook his head before leaning up against the side of her bed, looking at her with soft eyes.

"Kennedy told me you woke up today, wanted to at least visit before I bedded out," he said quietly, "sorry about the surprise and me, well, barging in back there." Margie grinned at him.

"Don't be sorry," she said with a wider smile, pained slightly as she shifted, "I'm glad you're here. You're quite the sight for sore eyes anyway." Benny tilted his head with a small smile and nodded to her.

"That bad, huh?" he asked her, his voice dripping into a suddenly slightly worried and serious tone, "A face like this?" Margie let out a laugh, before wincing and cringing slightly at her side, her one arm that wasn't as battered going to her ribcage.

Clasping a hand over the bandages, she uncomfortably shifted, before looking at Benny who sheepishly looked at her before looking to where her hand was covering.

"You okay?" he asked her, a tinge of nervousness to his voice, "Beside the….." Besides the obvious, she thought. She nodded.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, "I'm fine. Honestly. I'll heal up in no time. Get back out to Silver Bullets. I'll be flying soon - I know it." Benny gave her a look - he wasn't convinced.

"You'll heal up first before any of that." he said, giving her a smile, "And make sure you can both walk and have full function of your shoulder, too, alright?" Margie smirked at him.

"Since when did you become so worried about me, Doctor DeMarco?" she asked with a chuckle, wincing again at her side twinging, noticing a tender look cross his face as she took to staring at him.

"Hearing that you were knocked unconscious thousands of feet in the air because of a Kraut prop blast isn't the most comforting thing." Benny said to her, catching her gaze. Margie let out a small breath and then attempted a small smile. If she didn't know better, she could see the tension releasing a bit from his shoulders and the stress lines on his face, loosening up a bit when he was finally sitting there with her.

"What have you been up to since you woke up?" he asked, eyeing the plate of eggs and toast, along with the small bucket beside her, "Eating I hope?" Margie shrugged and then glanced at the plate of food, stomach turning.

"Trying," she said, "stomach's a bit funny-feeling, but it's probably a bit of the pain-meds, too, so….and Charlie's been great. So. Yeah. Afraid not much." Benny watched her warmly before slowly reaching up a hand and trailing her rather poor-looking blonde hair behind her ear, her sweat-lined forehead hot to the touch as he gave her a smile. He did that again, the touch so welcoming to her body that she was sure if he continued doing that, she'd fall asleep.

"I'll visit everyday, you know," he said quietly, and she stared up at him with a smile and shook her head, "you know I will, silly."

"You don't have to. You have other things going on."

"And this is one of those things." Margie smirked at him. He grinned.

"C'mon, let's get a bit of this in you," Benny said, retracting his hand and moving to the plate, sitting on the edge of the bed before facing her, "we'll go slow. I know your stomach isn't doing the best so, better we take it bit by bit."

"You sound like my mom." Margie said with a wincing chuckle, noticing his face brightening, "Listen, I was home sick a lot. Too many times I took the chance of going out without a coat, ya know? Lake Michigan was cold in those winters - all that wind and snow. Shoulda listened."

"Honored to be in place of a woman like that then." he said and picked up the toast, "Here." Margie looked between the toast and Benny's eyes and then took a small bite. The butter actually tasted really nice.

"Good?"

"Really good, thank you." she said, taking another rather eager bite and then looking up at him as she swallowed the piece down, "I've never loved bread more, I'll be honest." Benny got a laugh out of that as she took another bite.

"Remind me of that again when Christmas rolls around."

"Huh?"

"That you like bread. I'll buy you a loaf."

"Really?" Benny chuckled.

"I'm only kidding," he said with a smile, before meeting her gaze, "but I'd get you a bread loaf if that's what you really wanted." Margie let out a laugh, going to grab at her side again as she looked to him and smiled again, smaller this time.

"The way to my heart, Benny, truly." she said and she noticed Benny looking at her more fondly than he ever had, but took to taking another bite of the toast instead, relishing the feeling the felt good inside her. Actual food inside her stomach that didn't leave her feeling crappy.

The eggs were slightly less appetizing, as they made her stomach turn a bit, but she took down her fill and washed it down with water, all with the dutiful help from Benny who sat by her side and spoon-fed her bit by bit with that quiet smile on his face.

By the time Benny had returned the plate to Charlie and had come back over, Margie could feel herself fading. She felt bad - Benny had come to visit and all she had done was say she was okay (she clearly wasn't), eaten (in which he had spoon-fed her), and now half-fallen asleep (she was telling herself it was fine). Benny came and crouched by the side of her cot again and slowly leaned forward to pull her blanket further up over her body.

"Thanks, Benny." she said quietly, eyes half open as she looked over at him, tucking in the sides and grinning at her.

"I'm your……friend. Margie, it's what you do." he said with a smile, a bit of hesitancy, "Now, you focus on healing up. With food in you, get some rest and focus on taking it easy."

"I fear I'm not one to take it easy." she said with a joking tone. Benny watched her and quirked up a grin.

"Would you for me?" Margie let out a quiet laugh.

"Maybe for Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"Bradshaw ain't here right now." Margie laughed softly again, wincing at her side.

"Then that's a no." she said and Benny grinned at her with a quiet look. Margie watched him and then felt the smile on her face drop.

"Can I tell you something, Benny?" she asked him quietly. Benny's concern was never one he masked well and within an instance he was nodding and coming to sit on her bedside again.

"Hit me."

"I don't remember it happening. The hit I took." she said quietly, "I remember one minute I was there. The next, waking up today. I….Kennedy said I was talking a bit when she pulled me from the turret, but I don't…." Margie's eyes welled with tears and that was all it took Benny to lean forward and gently wipe the few strays tears away.

"Don't worry yourself thin on it, Margie," he said quietly, "just focus on getting some rest. You just need some time to heal up. Don't think on that too much, okay?" Margie looked at him, his warm hand pressed there on her cheek and she nodded.

"I'm tired." she whispered and he nodded with a smile.

"Focus on getting some rest." he whispered back to her, "I'm right here. Nothing bad's gonna happen." Margie watched him.

"Promise me you'll still be here when I wake up?" she whispered back to him, "Please?"

"I ain't leaving, Margie." he said quietly. Margie slowly nodded at his words, his hand there on her cheek and drifted off, fading into a black abyss of slumber.

And when she came out of it next, her eyes focused on what was at the foot of her bed - the outlined figures of Judy, Kennedy and Bessie and then looked towards what was next to her. There, curled rather uncomfortably on a chair, was an unconscious Benny DeMarco.

If there was anything Benny DeMarco did, he kept his promises.

And he was there when she woke up.

Right there.

"What's he doing curled up like one of those Renaissance statues?" Kennedy said with a chuckle, coming over to Margie's other side and wiping at the hair awkwardly splayed against her face, "How you feeling?"

"Good, good," Margie said with a small smile, "Benny just….kept me company last night. Came to visit. Almost got in trouble."

"He's a sweetie, isn't he." Bessie said with a grin, looking to Judy who watched Margie with shining eyes.

"A real sweetheart, for sure." Judy said, "That chair isn't doing him any favors though." The four girls chuckled, Margie wincing again. It told her a lot about a guy who would sit in a chair for the night, next to her as she lay in a cot, half-alive, looking like she'd just been pulled it felt, from six feet under. And in Margie's mind, someone's actions were always louder than words.

Always.

[beskar33]

*squishes him* *squishes him* *squishes him* *squishes him*

[catharusustulatus]

Steve and Robin play hangman when they’re bored at work and Robin never wins because Steve spells words incorrectly during his turns, always ends up confusing his e’s and a’s. But they’re undefeated at Pictionary, can guess what the other one is drawing in a single line. Dustin always thinks they’re cheating.

When his parents are gone on weekend trips, Robin will come over and the two of them will watch movies all day and bake banana bread. Steve loves banana bread. Robin can’t stand when people chew with their mouths open but not Steve, who braids and unbraids her hair and talk-chews through the whole first half of St. Elmo’s Fire (her pick).

Steve once tried to color coordinate Robin’s closet as a surprise and it did NOT go well. Robin didn’t talk to him for two days, she was so upset. But Steve understands, he really does, when she explains what’s wrong over the phone. When he knocks on her door after dinner with a new mixtape, they end up driving around aimlessly until the tape is over and all is forgiven.

Robin holds Steve’s hand when he gets bad migraines, strokes up and down his arms when he has to put his head in his hands. Understands when certain days are bad days, quieter and gentler with him. She always keeps an extra pair of sunglasses in her school bag, just in case.

They haven’t talked deeply about the monsters, but they know each other’s favorite songs and foods and colors and their celebrity crushes and jean sizes and allergies (Robin can’t eat shellfish). They have done karaoke for longer than three hours and peed their pants laughing and have seen each other naked and have sat in complete silence, comfortable on Steve’s leather couch and happy just to be in each other’s company, their favorite person the other person in the room.

[justagaywad]

DAY 3 BAYYYBEEEEE!!!! WHOOOHOOOO

[e-6000]

ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

[tatoasting]

Now im the dumbass who said "I'm so cute you better claim me for real before I get lost out here" and then made a very serious comment about our shared hesitation for monogamy and that we could hypothetically work around that. I sent that after they went to sleep and then followed it up a few hours later by saying that in less serious news I am watching Bluey and its cute. I added this just in case they didnt want to address what I've just said bc we do have plans to hang with a friend tomorrow afternoon and I will not be awake for long before then so like uhm. Yeah. Idk why I'm getting so impatient to have the conversation. I think I just realized how much I like them recently and idk, I want to be able to call them mine, which is idk. I know they arent big on the whole feeling like they belong to someone, because they belong to themselves first and foremost but idk, the idea of being able to call them like... my girlfriend. And it be true. Woah. And like, maybe thats why they say it jokingly so often but like aaa!!! It would be so nice to say that idk!!

[dannasama-no-komono]

I love being my husband's little plaything but moreover I love being my husband's husband!

[chstart]

it is an inarguable fact in my brain that phoenix's suit in the trilogy was thrifted for like 20 bucks

[florencemtrash]

He Feels Safe With You — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel's sleeping habits begin to worry you, but after a conversation with Cassian, you realize you've misinterpreted the entire situation.

Warnings: Major fluff. Like tooth-rotting sweetness. Sleepy Az.

Author's note: I should be sleeping because I have work tomorrow but instead I've chosen to write this oneshot and I have no regrets.

It was starting to become a problem now. 

You cocked your head to the side, cradling a cup of tea in your hands and watching Azriel as he continued to sleep soundly in your bed. You had the windows cracked open and the early Autumn breeze swirled indoors with the scent of lavender, bergamot, and the strawberry jam you’d slathered over your toast. You checked the time once again on the glossy marble clock face. The arrow-shaped hour hand clicked ever closer to 11am, the minute hand close to overtaking its competitor. 

10:55am and Azriel was still asleep. 

The sheets clustered loose and low around his waist, mimicking the curling of his shadows up and down the ridges of his spine and across the delicate membrane of his wings. His wings hung loose and relaxed, stretching off the edges of your bed and caressing the floor with a lover’s touch. You blushed at the sight. When you and Azriel had first started courting each other three years ago, you’d thought through the mechanics of housing an Illyrian warrior in your bed — should you buy a new bed frame and mattress? Did you even have space for it in your apartment? The answer had been no to both, and yet Azriel loved when your daytime activities ended here instead of at the townhouse. If he cared about having to walk sideways to avoid the bookshelves in the halls or having to crouch to avoid the overhang above the staircase, he didn’t mention it. 

Three hours ago you’d woken up beneath the gentle weight of his wings, untangled yourself from Azriel’s greedy limbs, and crept down the stairs to your kitchen, bleary eyed but well rested. But that was three hours ago! Since then you’d brushed your teeth, washed your face, and eaten breakfast, and still the Shadowsinger hadn’t stirred. You were beginning to question whether he truly was the Spymaster of the Night Court as you sat in your velvet chair and admired your lover. You traced all the subtle movements of his body as he muddled through dreams you could only wonder at — the creasing of his brow, the slack line of his lips as he breathed, the twitching of his fingertips as he reached for some phantom object. 

The clock struck eleven and you sighed, gathering your plates but leaving Azriel’s pile of toast, butter, and honey alone. You also left the teapot and its mismatched cup, blowing magic over its lid in a silent command to keep its contents hot until Azriel awoke. 

“I’ll be down in the shop,” you whispered to his shadows, trusting that they would relay the message when their master finally decided to grace the daytime with his presence. 

One by one, shadows slipped off Azriel’s skin, curling around your ankles and wrists in a silent plea to stay. You shook them off like one might a needy child, promising you’d only be two floors down. 

The artists’ corner in Velaris was an eclectic array of compact townhouses, each outwardly dressed in their unique, dazzling finery. Your townhouse was squished between a painting studio and a luthier’s. The painting studio’s owner seemed intent on changing the color of the wooden sidings every other day and the drawings scribbled over the windows every other week. Today it was periwinkle blue to match the hydrangeas overflowing from the window boxes. 

You nodded in approval as you flipped the apothecary sign over from “Much apologies, please try another time” to “You’ve caught us! We’re open!” The blue would match your tulip yellow sidings and the clean white accents of the luthier’s. Last week it had been red and that had looked gods-awful. 

You busied yourself in the shop, crushing up lavender and herbs and boiling mugwort in fire-stained glassware in between flurries of customers until the medicinal stench in the air grew thick and strong. You were used to it by now. It smelled clean. Like home. 

You were finishing tying up a bundle of teabags when Cassian came in carrying a sturdy wooden box under one arm like it weighed five pounds instead of fifty. You snapped out the wrinkles of a cloth bag, dropping the teabags and five vials of sleep serum for the nightingale-winged nymph in front of you. 

“Four feathers and three strands of hair, as we bargained for,” you said, sliding the bag across the counter. 

The nymph nodded in approval, extending out a wing and shoving her fingers into the pillowy softness. She tested for loose feathers ready to pull.

“You’re a godsend, Y/n, has anyone ever told you that?” She pulled out three feathers, closed her wing, and started testing the feathers on the other side. “Finnigan’s was asking me for ten. Ten! Can you believe that? If I hadn’t found you in time I’d have been reduced to a plucked chicken.” She was much less precious about her mousey brown hair and yanked out three strands at random. “Oops, you get an extra strand today,” she sang, dropping the feathers and hair into the jars you held out. 

“Well it’s a good thing you found me then, Moricka.” 

“Honestly! I understand he’s got a large studio space he’s renting in the thick of the Palace, and even I will admit the ambiance is rather professional—” 

Cassian raised his brow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his scarred lips as he continued to stand motionless in the doorway. It was true your space was more… homey than Finnigan’s, but your expertise shined in intimate spaces. You liked the control and the familiarity that came from running a smaller business and you wouldn’t give it up for the world. 

“But I do think the success is getting to his head. You both studied under Lady Madja so I don’t see why—” 

You nodded absentmindedly. It was always like this with Moricka. The songbird in her made it difficult for her to stop talking, but at least her voice was pleasant. 

She threw her hands up in the air before finally catching wind of another presence in the room. Cassian waved at her with a wink and an orange blush creeped onto her full cheeks. He tended to have that effect on fae with his towering size and the wild beauty of his chiseled jaw and smattering of scars over his cheeks and brow. 

“Oh… oh dear, I didn’t realize you had another customer. Oh my goodness I’ve been talking your ear off all this time and you’ve been too kind to say anything. You’re a godsend, Y/n. A godsend! I don’t know what I would do without you, although I should really be letting you go now.” She grabbed her things and sidestepped the range of Cassian’s wings, trying and failing now to gawk. “I’ll see you soon enough again I’m sure.” 

“I’ll be here.” You sighed in relief when the doorbell rang behind her petite frame, the inoffensive smile you offered all your customers sliding off your face like oil on water. Cassian chuckled, dropping the box onto the countertop with a dull thud. 

“Long day?” 

You pulled out a stepstool and began rummaging around through the box, pulling out jars of squid ink, bark trimmings, buttons, and one particularly nasty jar containing a large eye suspended in yellow goo. “It’s not even three.” 

“Did I stutter?”

You tapped the glass and the eye swiveled around to look at you, pupil enlarging and constricting with a stutter. “Yes, yes very good,” you muttered your praise and Cassian fought hard not to shiver. He had a stomach for a great many things, but some of the specimens you handled tested his resilience.

“Thank you for bringing all of this. You’ve saved me a great deal of trouble.” 

“Perhaps you could do the same for me and tell me where my brother is? I’ve been looking for him all day.” Cassian leaned forward on the counter, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Are you holding him hostage, Y/n? Are you using your feminine powers to bring the poor male to his knees? I must admit, I didn’t imagine you as the kind capable of kidnapping. Or shadow-napping, shall we say?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m hardly holding him hostage.” You gestured down the hallway past the bookshelves and the cases of empty glassware where the light from the staircase glowed like an iron eye. “He’s upstairs sleeping.” 

Cassian furrowed his brows, stepping around and past you. He kept his wings tucked closer to his shoulder blades, careful not to upset the cramped organization you maintained in your shop. 

He smirked. “Still? Are you sure you didn't work your feminine powers last night?” 

You glanced out the store window. A few fae lingered outside the coffee shop across the street clutching takeaway boxes against their chest as they chatted and sipped their drinks. The street was otherwise empty. For now, you wouldn’t have to deal with any customers. 

You looked back at Cassian. “I actually wanted to ask you about that.”

His brows furrowed. “About feminine powers?” He'd meant that as a joke.

“Gods, Cassian let that go.” You wrung your hands. “I wanted to ask if Azriel was alright? Has he seemed… normal to you?”

“I don’t know, has he?” Cassian lowered his voice, sinking into one of the stools by the clear glass medicine cabinet. “From what I can tell he seems well. Happy.” 

Although happy was an understatement. Ever since you’d stumbled into their lives with Madja’s accolades and your wry humor, Azriel had been a goner. You’d pulled emotions from him as deftly as a spinster with a pile of wool, reduced him to a reverential, lovesick mess, and imbued his existence with a color not even Feyre could mix up. Which made it all the more confusing why you looked so nervous.

“You’ve seen more of him than I have, Y/n.” Cassian said. He braced his elbows against his knees, turning serious. The faint bags under his hazel eyes hinted at sleepless nights spent fussing over Neera. It was their fault really, any daughter of Nesta and Cassian was destined to be restless and particular.

“He just… he’s been sleeping more. Falling into bed early, but waking up late. Sometimes we’ll be reading together or just existing side by side and when I turn to face him, he’s dead asleep on the couch.” 

Cassian’s lips twitched, slowly stretching into a smile. You plucked a hemp bag off one of the wall shelves at random, tossing its contents into a mortar and beginning to grind just so you could have something to do with your hands. 

“At first I brushed it off, but it’s gotten to a point where I’ll be talking to him — mindless things, but regardless — and I’ll catch him dozing off. He’s always very apologetic after but I…” The mortar and pestle clattered to a stop. “I worry that he’s growing bored of me. Or that he’s sick in a way I can’t help.” 

“Y/n.” There was a smile in Cassian’s voice, and indeed when you looked at him, his teeth were glistening in the soft afternoon haze. His eyes shined knowingly, as if the answer were obvious.

You paused. “Yes?”

“He feels safe with you.” 

You blinked once. Twice. 

“Pardon?” 

Cassian tipped back in his seat, knocking his head against the cabinet with a rattle of jars and glass as he laughed. “He’s sleeping so much because he feels safe with you. It’s probably why he prefers to spend time here instead of at the townhouse and why he’s still dead asleep while we’re sitting here gossiping about him. Three years ago you couldn’t even whisper his name in a crowded room without him appearing from the shadows as if summoned.” 

You felt heat rise in your cheeks. “Oh... I see.” 

Cassian was grinning. “Y/n, I promise you he’s not bored of you. Azriel sleeping is a good thing. The gods know he could use more rest. I think he might be the worst of us when it comes to taking care of ourselves.” 

Something about Cassian’s words had a crack splintering in your chest. You knew about his past. You knew of the horrors burned into the ruined skin of his hands and the weight his duties deposited on his shoulders.

And here you’d been worried over him sleeping past noon. 

Shadows slipped down the stairs, pooling around your feet in a neat circle and kissing the exposed skin of your ankles. Azriel followed closely behind, still wearing his rumpled hair and pants and a shirt he’d hastily shoved his neck and arms into. He hadn’t even buttoned up the slits below his wings, opting to let the fabric swing free and loose and expose flashes of skin as he walked. 

He jutted his chin out in acknowledgement of Cassian and then folded himself over your back, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and dropping his face into the crook of your neck where he breathed in the scent of lemon and lavender and medicine. 

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” he said, frowning. There was a slur to his words.

“It’s past three, brother.” 

Azriel snapped his head up in surprise, squinting at the window and the afternoon sunlight streaking in. The pale cobblestones shone like they’d been drenched in honey. 

“What?” 

Cassian rolled his eyes, patting Azriel’s back fondly and mussing up your hair before walking towards the door. He flipped the sign from “You’ve caught us! We’re open!” to “Much apologies, please try another time.” 

“Goodnight, you two!" He called from over his back. "Remember we’re meeting at Rhys’s for dinner tonight.” He turned, bracing his arms against the top of the doorway and leaning forward like he meant to share a secret. “8pm sharp. Don’t be too late or we’ll get the wrong idea about what you two are up to.” He winked, then whistled down the street, letting the door close on its own behind him. 

Azriel sighed, going back to nuzzling his face in your neck. He peppered the sensitive skin there with kisses. 

“Will you be coming back upstairs then?” He murmured hopefully. "Now that you're finished with work?"

You bit your lip and decided rather quickly that the world would not end because you closed a few hours early. 

You led him up the stairs, past the kitchen and living room on the second floor, and then up to the third floor — your bedroom. The window was still open, the hustle and bustle of the city and the smell of coffee from across the street wafting in. Steam no longer poured from the lip of the teapot, so you knew Azriel had had something to drink, and where you’d left toast on his plate this morning lay only crumbs. 

Azriel dropped to his knees, untying your laces and helping you out of your boots. Then he straightened and tugged at the belt loops of your trousers, silently asking for permission before unbuttoning them and sliding them off your legs. Your shirt, then his shirt, and then his trousers joined the pile of crumpled clothing on the floor.

He gently pushed you back onto the bed, falling face first after you with a sigh. This was his favorite position to sleep in — you comfortable on your back and him laying with his hips slotted in between your legs and his head resting over your heart. 

You sank your fingers into his velvety, black hair. His hums of satisfaction flowed through your body, lighting every nerve with a comforting buzz. 

“Azriel?” You asked him, before sleep could finally claim him once more. 

“Hmmm?” 

“Do you feel safe with me?” 

He pressed his face further into the soft flesh of your chest, bringing his arms up and around your waist before allowing his wings to do the same. The thin membranes glowed red as hot coals, blocking out the most offensive rays of light from outside. 

“When I am with you, I forget that I was ever that boy whose hands got burned. When I am with you, the hundreds of years I spent feeling alone and worthless in this world melt away into nothing. When I am with you — when I am in this place that smells and feels so strongly of you — I can imagine a future that is good and pure and perfect.” He sighed deeply, seemingly ignorant to the pounding of your heart and the waves of feeling flooding your system. “So yes, my love — my Y/n — I do feel safe with you.”

“I feel safe with you too,” you murmured. “I love you, Azriel.” 

You kissed the crown of his head, earning one last smile and a slurred, “I love you, Y/n,” before his jaw went slack and the room went silent save for the mixing of your breaths and the stirring of shadows.

[neverendingford]

.

[blkkizzat]

🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟸........... THE SORCERER KILLER ......filed under the that's not my jjk man series

visitor log: an extra toji fushiguro should be double the trouble and double the fun but neither likes to share, you know for sure which ones your toji—but do you really even care?

classifications: bratty!reader, brat taming, breeding, baby trapping, hair pulling, spit play + creampies, jealousy, grump!toji, daddy kink

incidents: 4.8k

*bam-bam*

Your favorite playlist pulses through the speakers as you occasionally stir the creamy mac and cheese simmering that’s almost ready for dinner, the rich aroma of melted cheddar and butter fills the kitchen.

Using the spatula as a microphone you’re filming a cute lil reel for all your IG followers. So absorbed in the tasks the unexpected knock at the door pulls you from your groove.

“Toji—Daddy, I’m still cooking. Can you get the door?”

Urgh, you’d have to edit this out.

*bam-bam*

“Baby, there’s someone at the door!”

*bam-bam*

“TOJI! ANSWER THE DAMN DOOR NOW!”

Irritated, you stop recording and storm out of the kitchen. 

To be honest you are already at your wits’ end as Toji had been gone all week and had promised to take you out tonight—quarantine be damned—after being stuck in the house for so long. However, he showed up much earlier than expected, looking like a stray dog who hadn’t seen shelter in days and grumbling about being hungry. 

He frankly didn’t look like he’d be in any condition to take you out later but you weren’t about to let him weasel out of this so easily. So you drew him a bath, sat him in front of the TV with some beers and were now cooking him food like the good little domesticated girlfriend you were proving to be—ensuring he had no excuse not to take you out tonight.

You wanted date night and new content to post after so long in isolation!

Stomping into the living room, ready to tell him off, you find Toji completely knocked out on the sofa, sound asleep snoring, with a UFC match playing on the TV.

“Ugh, you’re lucky you’re kinda cute when you sleep, old man…”

You shake your head, yet the pounding at the door interrupts your musings. 

*bam-bam-bam*

“Yeah, yeah I’m coming! Keep it in your pants.”

Rolling your eyes, you mumble the last part under your breath.

Wiping your hands on your apron, you peep through the window only to see that your impatient visitor was—huh?!

TOJI!? 

“Hey, been waitin’ out ‘ere forever doll, lower the barrier. C’mon, mamas.”

You freeze before slowly backing away from the door.

Fuck! A doppelgänger …? 

Or wait…surely your Toji is already inside, right?

RIGHT?!

Quietly, you creep back down the hall into the living room to find Toji still passed out on the couch. His head tilts back, mouth opened wide enough to catch flies as he continues to snore, legs sprawled out in a manspread. In one of Toji’s hands he holds a scratched-off lottery ticket (he won 2000 yen), while the other lazily scratches his balls in his sleep. 

Empty, crushed beer cans are scattered across your coffee table, while the crumbs from your brand new, yet now-demolished, bag of wasabi peas linger on his chest.

Yeah… *sighs* ...this was definitely your Toji alright. 

It also dawns on you that with his heavenly restriction, any barrier is pretty much nullified. 

Toji didn’t need you to lower it for him. He could waltz right in himself like it wasn’t there—like he’d done earlier too—completely surprising you as he didn’t even bother to knock or call ahead. 

Okay, well, yay—your first dopplegänger encounter and you correctly identified it. 

That was simple enough.

Now to actually deal with the doppelgänger  at your door was a different matter entirely. 

You sure as fuck weren’t letting them in. 

But you also weren’t so sure it would just go away on its own as they’ve been reported to be pretty persistent.

Tsk, should you wake Toji up then? 

You knew Toji to be a big grumpy ol’ man bear after a nap and you didn’t want to deal with that. Plus, you’d barely seen him all week with an increase in his contracts from Shiu due to the doppelgänger  appearances, it’s why he’s passed out so hard in the first place.

Toji would be even more disgruntled to see a doppelgänger  of himself of all people, effectively ruining the night you’ve been waiting all week for.

So you would just have to get rid of this fraud Toji yourself…somehow.

Easier said than done though as it’s not like you could kill the thing yourself, being the low grade sorcerer you are, especially if it mimicked Toji’s strength too.

You lightly chew your nail in contemplation, unsure of what to do exactly when you hear the knocking again, this time more urgent. 

*bam-bam-bam-bam-bam*

Shit at this rate the real Toji would wake up.

With a huff you return to the foyer. You were more quiet this time in your approach but the doppelgänger  curse senses you regardless as he speaks to you through the door. 

“C’mon on baby, I’m so sorry for not being around as much. Please lower the barrier, alrite? I’ll make it up t’ya mamas.”

Cautiously peeking out the window again you frown as doppelgänger Toji is still parked outside your door, clearly not going anywhere. The copy was pretty convincing too you have to admit, looking every bit as delectable as the real thing—maybe even a bit more—given the actual Toji’s current sloppy couch potato status.

BUT—’So sorry?!’  

Since when did Toji ever so willingly apologize for anything—and the ‘please’?! 

Yeah, please is right, as it’s something Toji would never say this easily—this creature was definitely not your Toji!

Even if you had been moved ever-so-slightly by the tinge of genuine contrition in its voice, this thing had Toji’s personality all wrong.

You had to admit it was a pretty good ploy though. 

The curse even sounded just like Toji and used similar lingo, it was almost flawless—but—the flaw it did have was huge. 

“Listen, I’m gonna level with you. It’s not worth it buddy, turn into someone else. He's sleeping now but he'll literally rip you apart if he wakes up and I don’t wanna deal with the ‘tude he’s gonna have after. It will ruin our whole date night and I never get date night!”

You harshly whispered through the door. 

Although, to be honest you were a little embarrassed you let that last part slip out like that. However your frustrations from the isolation were boiling over and this Toji looked just like the real one, you couldn’t help but take it out a little bit on them.

“Besides, I know for a fact you aren’t the real Toji.”

Pulling away from the window, you check the barrier again as you silently hope the doppelgänger  will just get the hint and leave. 

Standing in the foyer, you don’t hear anything for a minute and you think it might have actually left—although you wouldn’t know without looking again as the thing seemingly also mimicked heavenly restriction to a certain extent as you weren’t able to sense him either. However, thankfully the limitations of the fraud Toji appeared to be keeping it from freely passing through barriers apparently—one thing thankfully that could not be mimicked. 

“Ya know ma…I already know—that you know, that is. Tsk, wouldn't be hard to figure out, given his abilities alone.”

Toji’s smooth voice comes through the door. Well, not your Toji, Toji #2, the doppelgänger. 

You had a sassy remark ready to throw at him but the doppelgänger’s next words give you pause.

“But it wasn’t the abilities that gave me away, right? He doesn't apologize as much as he needs to, eh ma?” 

Silence.

“N’ ya really think y’er going out somewhere tonight, mamas? That old man ain’t waking up for a while.” 

You're not sure how exactly to respond to copycat Toji. 

Thoroughly stunned, you know his words ring true, yet they manage to sound just as condescending as the real Toji does sometimes when he's certain he's right.

Scoffing, you know you remaining quiet is an answer all on its own. 

“You know you don’t deserve that, mamas… You could do better. Someone who could actually be around more, eh?”

Spot-on in his assessment, doppelgänger Toji doesn’t need to see you chewing on your lip to know he has you hooked. You are too caught up in your own head, left isolated for too long to think rationally at the moment. 

However, had you taken the time to peek out of the side window again, you would have seen the self-satisfied smirk on the clone’s face knowing he had slightly hooked you.

“Don’t think of me as a copy mamas—consider me an upgrade.”

ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩

When Toji—the real Toji—finally wakes up, he’s practically ravenous. 

The wasabi peas did little to satisfy him, waiting for you to finish cooking your famous mac and cheese and drinking all that beer had amplified his hunger even more. 

Although overall, it had left him tired. He hadn’t been on this many jobs in literal years. Though he had turned down many contracts in the past out of disinterest or sheer laziness, the money these clowns were offering to eliminate wayward copies was pure insanity

Upwards of 150 million yen for some light-weight level one & two curses?

Toji would be a fool to turn down that easy money. 

And while certainly easy, the jobs had been tedious, feeling near endless. 

Nearly every bastard in Tokyo had a copy running around—if not multiple and after a week of non-stop work with barely any sleep, it finally caught up to Toji.

With a yawn more similar to a light roar, Toji looks around, cracking his stiff neck. He isn’t sure how much time has passed but he’s a little annoyed. Most of the lights are off and you are nowhere to be found, usually he’d hear you in the kitchen or you’d be curled up beside him, molded into his side body. 

His eyes briefly narrowing, Toji knows he was supposed to take you out tonight so you can finally get some air after being cooped up so long. But knowing how big a brat you could be, you’d better not have disobeyed him and gone outside yourself just because he’d overslept—it was still too dangerous.

Yet any remnants of sleep instantly dissipates when Toji hears your soft flirtatious laughter coming from the foyer. 

Rising up from his hibernation spot on your sofa and following the sound of your voice to the front of the house, Toji’s annoyance grows with every step. He can sense something’s off—his innate senses are screaming at him.

When Toji lays eyes on you he realizes there’s actually something that leaves him even more irritated than you speaking with your coworker, Gojo Satoru.

Much worse. 

You were talking, no—flirting with Toji’s own doppelgänger at that!

Not only had you made yourself comfortable, chatting with him through the screen door from a cozy chair while he sat on a stool he’d scooched over on the porch, but you’d even lowered the barrier long enough to give the lousy clone a plate of food���a plate Toji instantly recognized as the mac and cheese you were supposed to make for him.

You fed that fucker his food too?!

Toji’s patience dwindles rapidly as you fail to notice him right away—too deep in conversation, happily entertaining a version of Toji that, for once, actually listens to all the topics the real Toji dismisses as ‘girly shit.’ The clone lavishing praises of your dancing skills and how cute all your photos look as you show off your IG and TikTok. 

Even though you are genuinely clueless, it's apparent that his doppelgänger notices Toji. The subtle smirk and twitch of his clone's scarred lip mocks the real Toji as the doppelgänger leans into the barrier, trying to get closer to you. If Toji were the introspective type, he might have realized in that moment how insufferable he sometimes appeared to you, seeing as how much his own expression had just pissed him off—but the murderous intent boiling in his veins seared away any such thoughts.

“THE FUCK?!”

Hearing Toji’s roar starles you so bad you almost fall out of your chair. 

Snapping back to reality you had nearly forgotten you’d spent the last 3 hours or so chatting with DT—short Doppel Toji—as you dubbed him. Unlike your real block-headed oaf of a boyfriend you have, Doppel Toji was so easy to talk to—about anything! 

Wanting to learn more of human culture and customs, Doppel-Toji hung on to your every word as you explained the details of being a new breakout influencer and how hard it was seeing as the real Toji wanted you to block nearly every man who commented on any of your posts.  

“Oh, Toji, you’re finally up? It’s only been 3 hours and the restaurant is likely closing down by now!” 

You roll your eyes.

“Anyway while you were napping, Doppel-Toji, DT here, has been keeping me company.”

Doppel-Toji nodded in approval of the nickname, the same smarmy smirk on his face that the real Toji was itching to rip off.

You turn back to the real Toji, seemingly unaware of just how close he was to losing his entire shit. 

“Babe, these doppelgänger ’s aren’t that bad at all! Some, like DT here, just want to live normal lives as doubles! DT here wants to be a milkman, isn't that right?”

Doppel-Toji gives you a wide smile that reached into his eyes, one that creeped Toji out to see on his own face, especially as you were even smiling back at him foolishly not even realizing how the doppelgänger ’s gaze had since drifted onto your jiggly tits and then even lower to see how your dress had ridden damn near past your supple thighs. 

Wearing only your cute, thin, cotton-ribbed lil pj dress with cherries printed on it you were practically naked as the sheer material teases the color of your nipples and shows the outline of the thong straps digging into the swell of your thick hips.

Yeah, by the way his doppel is looking at you the real Toji is certain the only milkman job his freak of a doppel wants is to be one turning your succulent fat cunt into heavy cream.

Heh, over the Toji’s dead fucking body though—well the copy of it at least that's for sure.

“Mamas, c’mon you can’t be this bird-brained…”

The real Toji crossed his arms leaning on the wall trying to keep his cool so you'd realize on your own just how silly you were being but he unintentionally made you lose yours.

“A bird?! Did you just call me a fuckin’ bird Toji Fushiguro!?”

You turn back to Doppel-Toji, whose smirk shifts to an understanding expression by the time you meet his gaze again.

“See this is exactly what I was talking about!”

Pointing an accusing finger at the real Toji and DT nods sympathetically, shooting eyes over to the real Toji who didn’t need his enhanced senses of heavenly restrict to sniff-out this nice-guy act was all a fuckin’ farce from a mile away. 

Voicing your frustrations, you're still griping as you once again face the real Toji who was just about fuckin’ fed up with this stupid-ass charade. 

“Listen, Toji we need to talk… DT says you don’t appreciate me enough! You haven’t been around at all lately and I know you’ve been busy but you could at least call—”

The real Toji closes his eyes, unraveling his arms and cracking his neck as you continue to prattle on. He’s at his limit and he ain’t about to sit through a nagging lecture all while a phony ass version of himself sat there ridiculing him too.

Furthermore, despite there being truth to Toji not being around lately, he’d actually tried to make up for it the best he could. Toji had venmo’d you money to cover your groceries and bills—something he hadn’t done for a woman since his late wife!

Overindulging you, Toji even bought you the newly released iphone you wanted (even though you still have last year’s model and its working just fine). However, according to you— ‘you need the latest new camera for your reels! And what else were you supposed to do but take fire selfies for all your followers if you’re stuck inside all day!’ 

Rolling his eyes at the memory, Toji wasn’t exactly sure when you had domesticated him. Nevertheless, somehow he’d gone from asking you to ‘hold 4000 yen for the week’ to sending you large chunks of his payouts to keep you happy—all before he realized he’d cared enough about you to even go this far. 

If you being a materialistic attention-seeking slutty lil’ thing wasn’t enough, you were also greedy too—still not satisfied and pouting until he was home again to bend your legs back over your head while he ruined your greedy lil' pussy.

As a result of the real Toji spoiling you sour, you’d turned into the nag before him now. Acting like he cared nothing for you whenever you didn’t get your way exactly when and how you wanted it.

“—and that’s why DT says you better act right before you lose me!”

Heh…

Your clingy lil ass wasn’t going nowhere—you were a fuckin’ brat and Toji should have known it would come to this.

Opening his eyes with a chillingly murderous grin, Toji’s demeanor sends shivers down both you and the doppelgänger’s back. 

“S’that right ma?—Is that what he says, eh?”

From there it all happened so fast you weren’t sure what exactly even happened.

You think Toji had ripped the screen door off its hinges, destroying it and shattering the barrier while seemingly producing inverted spear of heaven out of thin air to take the doppelgänger's head right off his body. 

But you weren’t sure.

Where were you? Still in the foyer?

In fact, you can’t really be sure of anything at the moment as Toji has your nighty rolled up past your tits that bounce wildly in his face as his big brawny hands around forcibly slide you up and down on his girthy cock. 

You didn’t know where your panties had even gone, Toji likely tore them off, shredding them to bits, for all you know. 

Your thoughts and current timelines are utterly jumbled as Toji completely hollows out your insides, molding your poor abused hole to the shape of his cock. His brawny grip imprints into your flesh, slamming your hips flush to his while allowing his bulbous cockhead to roughly kiss your cervix with every breath-stopping thrust down on his length. Shivers furiously ripple through your body as your clit is continuously assaulted over and over by the unkept pubes at his base. 

The rough treatment—just how you like it—releases waves of sublime ecstasy sizzling in your brain. Toji is effectively lobotomizing you with his mean fat cock, the relentless drilling thrusts liquifying your consciousness.

Fuck…wait—um, what was your name again even? 

The only name, thing, place you can think of right now begins and ends with Toji as he continues to bully himself inside your body, rippling shockwaves through your cunt that shift your organs around just to his liking.

“Tojiiiiiii, d-dahddy puh-leaseeee!!”

Your slurs are near intelligible but Toji can still make out his name as drool spills over your lips almost as fast as your babbles, thoughts of his doppel completely wiped from your slutty lil’ head. 

Yet even with the now decapitated clone, it wasn’t fully dead just yet. It was a stronger one, near special grade, severing its body parts wouldn't be enough to destroy them. The effects of the inverted spear made RCT impossible for it though as it withered on the ground.

It lay helplessly, dying slowly as Toji fucked the dogshit out of you on the comfy chair you had once been in. Proving to you and the curse that no copy could ever hope to have you falling apart like this—completely dumb for his cock only.  

So easily getting cockdrunk anytime Toji stirs up your guts is why you don’t even register the raspy words Toji practically growls as you—

“You hear that, baby?”

Smacking your ass hard, your flesh ripples against Toji’s palm.

“Answer me slut!”

His insatiable plundering of your cunt as you so blissed-out that the sting of your sore redding ass startles you.

“T-T-Tojsshii!!!”

You whine, sobbing as tears pour down your face, soaking your nighty that was damn near pushed up to your neck now. Toji knowing how big he was usually let you have the reins while in cowgirl but not this time���this was your punishment for being such a bitchy lil’ brat thinking he could be swayed behind some empty fuckin' threats of being replaced.

“Nuh-uh, slutty mamas.”

Toji mercilessly delivers another opened palmed smack that sizzles the nerve ends on your reddening bottom.

“Ya fed that discount version of me my dinner—so I’mma have to make my own—mmm ya hear that?  My version of mac n’ cheese s’almost ready.” Of course, the mac and cheese Toji is referring to his none other than your ooey gooey cunt. Your pussy lips stretch to their limits, yet desperately swallowing his thick girth with a series of wet squelches, glops, and bubbles. The milky fluids that are pushed out of you make an awful mess, running down Toji’s heavy balls and soiling your expensive comfy velvet chair. 

“Now this—this is how you make mac n’ cheese ma, hear that creaminess? You thought that fuckin’ loser ass fake was gonna make a freak-nasty pussy like yours sing like this?”

You can only gasp in response, trying to hang onto him and your own sanity while you dig your nails into Toji’s biceps for leverage as he drills you down on him within an inch of your sanity—the acoustics of your cunt ringing salaciously in your ears. 

“Tsk, look at ya ma, actin’ like you can’t take it when this is what ya really fuckin' wanted all week.”

PLAP-PLAP-PLAP-PLAP!

You’re really going to have to speak up now to get Toji to hear you over the sordid sounds of your cheeks being clapped to hell and back. 

"HMPH! MMM—N-No! AHHH—I-I want… SHIIIIIIT S’GUD—ahhh ahhh—d-date!!”

Another slap stings your ass as you pathetically pout, making Toji smack your jiggly flesh once more for good measure. Your cute lil’ expressions only fuel his mean streak.

“Now mamas, ya know we were never gonna go on that date—n’ I know, ya know why.”

Blushing, you bite your lip, shaking your head as you feign ignorance. holding back your sobs—not wanting to own up to what you and Toji both already know to be facts.

“C’mon slut, don’t act all shy now. Ya know the reason why we never go on dates—because this filthy leaky cunt of yours can’t be ‘round me for too long without wanting to get filled up—at the movies *smack* —in the back of the bar *smack* —heh, didn’t ya even make me fuck ya horny lil ass dirty in the filthy-ass stall at the park? *smack* Bratty lil cunt not being able to wait the 5 minute drive home…”

Your pussy flutters tighter around Toji, answering for you as he continues to chuckle at your embarrassment. You were a shameless lil' whore for his dick, and you were at your worst level of brat when you didn’t get it for even a short period of time.

“Whaddya say then? Ya don’t think I appreciate ya ma? Even though I fuck ya, whenever and however your pretty pussy begs for it? Heh. Well then, let me show this pretty cunny how much she's appreciated.” 

Further sliding down the chair, Toji plants his feet firmly on the ground so he can pump himself into you harder. The new angle has his cock pounding deliciously against your g-spot. You bounce wildly for a few pumps before your core muscles, fatigued and screaming at you, have you falling forward onto him. Nuzzling your head into his well-sculpted chest to smother your wails, you're unable to do anything but just take it. 

“Ya hear that, mamas? That's your pussy saying thank you to my cock. She’s always so grateful t'me mamas, better behaved than you anyday.”

Biting into one of his large pectorals Toji chuckles at your feeble attempt to still rebel against him. Your bites feel more akin to a soft tickle—yet the indents your teeth leave spark a feral urge in Toji, who in turn, ramps up the voracity a few levels. 

Sliding his hands from your waist he grips your cheeks, spreading them while you sink down further a few millimeters that almost seemed impossible, already being so full of him. 

“I know she knows how much I care about ‘er by the way she’s gushin’ on me, squeezing me like she’s begging me make her cum, she deserves it even if ya don’t.”

Cheeks cracked-open wide, your puckered rear exposed, Toji smirks as he presses his middle finger against your ridges to toy with the entrance of your asshole. When Toji starts rimming the tight ring of muscle in a furious circular motion, the finger already so slick n’ sticky from your juices—you can already feel just how fuckin hard your about to cum.

“Tsk—shame that mouth of yours you always gettin’ her and your lil’ ass in trouble, eh?”

Soundless moans leave you, your throat raw from the straining of your vocals—that is until Toji sinks his burly finger deeper into your hole, hooking and pressing against the thin wall to the point he can feel how hard he is coring-out your cunt from even the tight insides of your ass.

OH FUCK! 

Too much! 

Too good!

The intrusive and unexpected assault on your back hole is what finally does it for you. Toes curling to the point of cramps your bision blacks out and you think you lost consciousness completely but its your own vocals croaking out cries as you cum—hard that grounds you back to reality. Shivers take over your body and your clenching around Toji so ferally he lets out his own string of curses and he bites into your neck, filling you up—his hefty load overstuffing your pussy as it squelches out and down the sides of his cock.

You don’t know how much time has passed but you’re still trembling in the afterglow of your orgasm. Weakly look up at Toji, all teary-eyed and dazed, in pout so adorable it only makes him want to ruin you more in the most animalistic way possible.

You honestly had him wrapped around your finger like no woman had before and he was going to fuck that knowledge into you, preventing this situation from happening again.

Better yet—Toji was gonna fuck a baby into you to prove it. 

Sear his cum directly into your walls, painting you with his scent and effectively turn your womb into a pretty lil' dump over n’ over—until he finally planted his kid in you.

You wouldn’t be able to complain to him about being lonely then and fuck knows how long this doppelgänger shit was gonna last. 

Fuck tho.

The thought of you fully pregnant and round with his child got his dick back up n’ jumpin’ just from picturing you n'your cute round lil' belly waddling around. So much so that when Toji pulls you off of him to manhandle you into the next position he doesn’t even notice your brand new phone on the ground next to his feet until— 

*CRUNCH*

“Tojiiii my new phone! I still have reels that haven’t been posted!!!”

You’re coughing out your complaints, dizzy and out of breath from being fucked so hard. Scanning the ground for your phone you can barely support yourself as you bend forward to access the damage, until you feel Toji snatch you back up.

“Heh, fuck that phone and fuck ya IG ma. I’mma about to give ya something to put on a sonogram instead—now drape ya fine self over the back of this chair n’ toot that pretty peach of an ass up.”

The slap to your backside this time is so loud the force causes your ears to ring along with the rest of your body to tingle, your tongue lolling out of your mouth drooling from the force rocking into your overstimmed cunt. 

“N’ m’not asking ya!”

You would have surely collapsed to the ground if Toji, fed up, hadn’t just taken matters into his own hands and positioned your limp, ragdoll-like body over the chair himself.

Ass up and out on display, Toji parts your swollen folds with his thumbs. Admiring his cum plugging your gaping slit, Toji gifts a wad of spit into your hole adding to the fluids before he rubs his dick, now even harder than before, through your ruined folds. 

Grabbing your hair and yanking your head back Toji’s words send shivers down your spine as he bullies himself into your core once more—all in one go, taking him in so nicely like a slutty lil glove.

“Listen ma, the only DT I ever wanna hear you say is ‘Daddy Toji’. Now scream it for me, baby. Loudly. Tell the whole neighborhood, eh? They're already lookin’. ”

Huh? What was he…Fuck, the front door was wide open this entire time?!?!

Struggling to keep your bleary eyes open, your body keenly jolts from the backshots Toji is ruthlessly gifting your cunt. Losing yourself to pleasure again you see another doppelgänger on the approaching from the street—

This time it’s a perfect copy of—you! 

However your copy freezes on the lawn once it catches sight of your state caused by the giant bear of a man recklessly pummeling into your limp body from behind and his nearly dead doppel, whose limbs still miraculously twitch while scattered over the porch. 

Your doppel’s face twists in horror before she quickly flees the scene, smart enough to have more self-preservation than Toji’s as she wisely decides against engaging in any of these fuckin’ problems.

......RESULT: FAILED. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚞 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛—𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎.

that's not my jjk man series (visit series page for full animation)

comment and reblog! next up geto, already finished posting 10/21.

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

[inkdrinkerworld]

"Sirius don't you dare, we're not at home." your whines go completely ignored by your boyfriend because as soon as you lay down on James' sofa, Sirius is lifting your sleep shirt and burying his head under it.

"What is wrong with him?" Lily asks as she passes you a mug of tea- chamomile with a touch of honey- before going to sit besides James who looks equally puzzled.

"Every time I get out of the shower at night he does this. Says the lotion I use is the cause." You pat your boyfriend's head under your shirt, Sirius turns sideways with a tired grin on his face.

"You act like Jamesie there isn't the biggest baby too." James gawks, hazel eyes narrowing.

"I didn't even say anything, Pads. I think it's sweet."

Remus shakes his head, "Of course you do. It'd be sweeter in private."

Lily, you and Marlene hide a laugh.

Stirring a pot, Lily says, "You could at least let the girl breathe."

"She smells like sleep, cocoa butter and vanilla. What am I meant to do against that?" He sounds too lovesick, and with the grin on his face, James wishes he had his phone nearby.

Remus solves that problem for him almost immediately. Sirius doesn't even protest.

"Siri, don't you think it's a little pathetic to have to hide under your girlfriend's clothes at night to sleep?" Marlene asks and Sirius pops his head out again.

"Pathetic is you trying to imply you haven't snuggled up next to her on your sleepovers." Marlene throws a chocolate covered almond at him while he just looks at her all pleased and content.

Remus rolls his eyes, "You could at least save it for when you get into your room."

You hide a smile, knowing exactly what Sirius is going to say. You and your boyfriend have this conversation every night you join him back on the sofa instead of in bed.

Sirius doesn't dignify Remus with full view of his face- he moves your shirt just enough that his mouth and nose are visible.

"M'gonna be asleep in a bit anyways. In fact you're all just prolonging when I'll be able to sleep by carrying out an inquisition at near midnight."

You chuckle into your mug, taking a sip as Sirius shuffles up your body and settles again.

"You're a saint, Y/n." James compliments as he watches Sirius' hold on your waist tighten before he starts the movie.

Your boyfriend whines the second your hand falls on his back and you roll your eyes, slipping your hand down his shirt and scratching his back for him.

You can feel Sirius taking deep, lungful breaths of you before his heartbeat slows a bit and his breathing evens out- not even ten minutes into the movie he'd suggested.

"He's a big fucking baby." Marlene marvels at the way Sirius sleeps through the movie, hands around you and face hidden away under your shirt. "You wouldn't even guess he was clingier than Potter."

"Hey!" James groans, but he can't protest, his head is in Lily's lap as he twists and coils strands of his hair. Sirius hasn't even shown them the half of it- James keeps that tidbit to himself.

[nonranghaes]

"honey..." your voice is quiet enough, eyes squinting at him in the darkness. "'m cold..."

seungcheol thinks he loves your sleepy face the most sometimes. there's just something so cute about the way you paw at his shirt, missing his warmth, while half-asleep. he pulls the blankets back over him as he snuggles in to you.

"i'm here," he says, voice slightly hoarse since he, too, is barely awake now. "'m here."

you move into his arms, snuggling up close to him. even while half-asleep, he's not surprised when you shiver a little. you're the cold one in this relationship, always snuggling with him for warmth when you aren't layered up a little. you always shoot down the idea of turning the air up a little--you'd rather just have warm blankets (and warm husband) with a cold room instead of writhing around uncomfortably underneath it all. he draws the comforter over you, and snuggles in.

he kisses your forehead one more time, and stays close to you. your own personal heater for life, he'd called himself in your wedding vows. and he smiles to himself at the memory when he feels your lips press against his chest, separated from the skin by the t-shirt he's wearing tonight.

it matches your own. your own matching pair for life, you'd said in your own vows. the other sock, the peanut butter to his jelly. he just rubs his fingers alongside the side of your arm, content that he's right where he wants to be.

[oceantornadoo]

home invasion

neighbor!simon, gender-neutral reader, fluff, implied violence

--

there was someone in your room.

you had fallen asleep on your living room couch, soothed by the sounds of trashy reality tv show. however, some creeping sensation overcame you, cold hands tickling your spine, waking you up with a bucket of ice water. you lay absolutely still as you heard sounds of someone rummaging through your things. thankfully your apartment walls were thin, so you heard them closing drawers loudly, as if they didn't think you were home. you started running situations through your head, ones where you called the police and they came too late, your trespasser having heard the phone call. there was only one decision to make.

silently, like you were five again and playing hide and seek, you moved towards your door. thankfully your door didn't squeak as blood rushing was the only sound running through your head. you left the door slightly ajar as you sprinted down the hall to his door.

"simon!" you whisper yelled, knocking furiously but trying not to alert the intruder at the same time. tears were gathering in your eyes, ones of frustration of having your safe space broken into. finally, after what felt like an hour, the lock clicked and he opened the door.

simon was grumpy. he had just started to fall asleep, that elusive feeling he was always chasing these days, never quite catching it. he was about to tell you such until he saw your eyes glistening, hands gripping your blanket fiercely. "theresanintruderinmyroomhesinmy" you sputtered, absolutely distraught.

"slow down, lovie. wha' happened?" fuck, he wasn't supposed to call you that. he was supposed to keep his distance and not be one of those creeps you complained about. and now he had fucked it up and- "there's someone in my apartment. in my bedroom. going through my things. i knew the cops wouldn't come fast enough so i just thought-" he interrupted you, opening his door just wide enough to shove you through it. fast as a whip, he turned around, kissing your forehead through his mask and murmuring "lock it behind me." then he was gone, your vengeful grim reaper stalking down the hall to his next victim.

ten minutes later, the clock in the kitchen ticking slower than humanly possible, you spotted him closing the door of your apartment, shoulders bunched around his ears. you were pressed against the peephole and opened the door for him as he neared. "simon? what happened?" his eyes were black pits in his head, pupils blown wide by some intangible force. bloodlust. he reached behind you, triple checking the lock, before turning on the light. you gasped.

his knuckles were bloody, gray shirt disheveled, like someone tried to claw it. his mask was askew, shoved up as if someone tried to pull it off but was stopped before they got the chance. he pulled your forehead to his, souls touching in some intimate embrace. this was your neighbor, the one who always held the door for you and accepted your extra baked goods with quiet disagreement. the one who covered sharp edges of corners before you bumped into them, watched your door to make sure you got in okay after late nights out with friends. he breathed in your scent quietly, telling himself this was not a mission, this was you. he ran his thumbs under your jawline and down your neck, feeling your pulse to remind him you were alive. you, this bundle of life he came back to, week after week, deployment after deployment, the one reason he stayed in this shitty building when he could easily afford something better. "yer stayin' with me tonight." you nodded easily, soft as butter in his arms.

you blinked and you were in his bed, strong arms wrapped around you. he gripped you hard, like he thought the intruder might try to steal you straight out of his arms. in the darkness of his room, you slipped off his mask, laying it on his bed table. you kissed his forehead, a mirror of the one he gave you earlier, and snuggled into the crook of his neck. "thank you." you whispered into the silence of the night. you felt him nod against you, arms constricting tighter, legs tangled in the safety of his bed.

simon didn't sleep much. too many memories, sounds of gunfire and the glint of the meat hook ever present. he was required to see a shrink on base, but even that didn't help. turns out this whole time, all he needed was you.

--

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ the "dying" wolverine ]❜

ft. logan howlett x gn! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ taking care of logan when he’s sick┊0.8k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, established relationship

➤ author's note: i’m feeling like shit so i’m making him suffer with me

what part of regenerative healing don’t you understand? it’s impossible for him to get sick in any capacity as his immune system is stronger than the adamantium in his body, so feel free to read any of the other logan fics written by all the amazing writers on this platform!!

but let’s say that he somehow contracted a special bug that managed to get past all that and managed to make him fall ill, requiring you to take care of him while wade goes on a mission to figure out what’s wrong with him…

this headstrong two-hundred-year mutant who can take stab wounds without flinching and is an invincible tank in battles will be the whinest son of the bitch. he always lets his guard down around you, but he’s the most vulnerable and immature that he’ll ever allow himself to be around anyone since he can’t remember the last time (or if he has ever in his life) felt so shitty. shivering despite being feverish and covered up in blankets which just made him sweaty and uncomfortable, an itchy nose that wouldn’t sneeze when he needed it to, coughing his lungs out every two minutes— it’s so alien to him.

when you finally show up to look after him, he’ll have uncharacteristically big puppy eyes as you gently place your hand on his forehead to gauge how bad it is. “how are you feeling, lo?”

“i feel like i’m going to fucking die.” there are several discarded tissues and water bottles overfilling the nearby trashcan, but it was clear that he had no idea how he was supposed to make himself feel better and suffering.

“i can tell,” you chuckle at how dramatic he sounds and it makes him frown, but he’s just so thankful that you’re here to take care of him (he doesn’t exactly trust al to do it, that woman is a bit too mysterious and cryptic for him, and the medicine she offered smelled funny even to his dulled senses). “let me go make you some soup.”

he doesn’t want you to leave at first because your cold skin feels so good against him, but he’ll lightly doze off for a bit now that he’s more comfortable and feels safer. don’t expect him to stay asleep for long though, he’ll get up from his little while you’re in the middle of cooking chicken vegetable soup to wrap his arms around you and rest his head on top of yours until you finish.

“why are there barely any vegetables in the fridge? i could only find half a carrot and wilted celery.”

“i don’t think anyone here eats that stuff.”

“logan, you need to eat your greens— all you guys do, how are all three of you in such good shape then?!”

“eh.”

he can’t make anything more complicated than butter noodles, wade sets nearly everything on fire, he feels slightly guilty eating the food made by an elderly blind lady when he’s already freeloading at the moment, and constantly ordering take-out becomes expensive. you’ve given some food in tupperware for him to eat up, but it isn’t quite the same. as if being sick didn’t make him miserable enough, he’s so fucking pissed that he couldn’t properly taste your freshly-cooked food and will make it known.

you scoff that it’s just soup and pour it out in a bowl for him to eat, but you’ll quickly find yourself spoon-feeding him. yes, his hands still work with perfectly fine motor functions. no, you’re not passing up the opportunity to baby him while he rolls his eyes (he’ll grunt at most and doesn’t say a word of protest, claiming that he’s merely allowing it since he’s too tired to fight with you over it and very glad no one could see it happening).

“here comes the airplane~”

“i’m a grown-ass man, don’t be ridiculous.”

“a grown-ass man without an ounce of whimsy in his life, open your fucking mouth and eat.”

this is one of the lower points in his life where he doesn’t quite understand why this is happening to him yet, so you obviously have give him as much affection as possible! keeping a cold glass of water nearby and a wet rag to dab on his face, he rests his head upon your thighs and you swear that you can hear him purring like a kitten. there’s not better pillow than his lover, soft, warm, and full of love as you hum a song to lull him to sleep.

“let’s get married one day…” he not sure how that slipped past his lips, it might be the fever talking for him, or the fact that he’s completely relaxed without any tension in his muscles and feeling himself falling in love all over again when you smile so sweetly at him

“okay, but you need to sleep and get better first.” you place a gentle kiss on his forehead until his eyes slowly drift shut, “i love you, logan.”