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[puppyandmau]

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[alicentofhightower]

widow

pairing: helaena targaryen x maid!reader

synopsis: helaena yearns for more insects to cradle, and you are all too willing to add to her collection.

includes: pre-b&c helaena but post aegon’s coronation, just cute lil crushes, fluff

wc: 1232

a/n: hiiii!! i wrote this for a twitter oomf so if u see this i hope u like it <3 this might be a bit ooc bc this is my first time writing for her but i tried lmao

-

Perhaps it was a bit stupid for you to be so afraid of insects while you worked in such a large castle, but the thought of little spiders crawling around frightened you nonetheless. The Red Keep was a monstrous thing, with halls seemingly never ending and chambers large enough to house an entire family. It was only natural for such little creatures to infest it.

You’d never understood why Helaena was so fond of them. Out of all of the royal family, she was the one you were closest to. Many of the other maids you worked with whispered of what a strange woman the Queen was, with her peculiar mumblings and odd tastes, but she was the sweetest woman you’d ever met.

A Targaryen dragonrider, she was, the mother of the heir to the Iron Throne and King Aegon’s only daughter, but she was so gentle. You suppose it was only logical you’d developed a crush alike to a green boy’s on her. Helaena had always had an aversion to touch, but you were the only one she allowed to braid her hair, and sometimes her fingers would trace indecipherable shapes on the back of your hand. You wondered what they meant.

“I’d like for more little bugs,” she tells you one day while you braid her hair. Wavy and soft, it was, befitting one of her station. “They are my only company when the children are at their lessons. I enjoy hearing their whispers.” You fight the urge to raise a brow at that, knowing Helaena’s wisdom often presented itself in riddles.

She sat on a velvet-cushioned chair in front of her vanity, adorning a blue dress matching Dreamfyre’s scales and a silver-chained necklace. Nimble fingers play with her wedding ring as you finish up, and it’s clear she’s making an effort to sit up straight. She’d never had good posture, but she’d try for you.

You place your hands on her shoulders as you bend to the level of her ear. The feel of them is purposely light and feathery, meant to make it easy for her to brush them off if she so desires. “Mayhaps you might ask your lord husband for more,” You say, your tone tender as always.

“He does not take interest in what I do.” Her words are simple and to the point. That was always how she spoke of Aegon. Then, she turns to face you, a small smile fixed on her face. The way the light from the window illuminates her face makes her resemble an angel.

She places her hand on top of where yours rests on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Thank you,” she says sincerely, then smooths out the wrinkles of her periwinkle gown and stands. You find yourself getting lost in the deep blue of her eyes, ever so alluring.

Only a moment later, you snap out of it, bowing your head to her and leaving the room with haste. It was improper for a person of your standing to carry such intimate affections for a royal woman, nevermind the fact that you were one yourself. Yet, you could not force yourself to ignore the thought that had come to you — to get Helaena more of her little bugs.

-

Your attempts to suppress your fears do not work. You find yourself asking yourself why you’re even putting yourself through this much trouble for just a few bugs, but you shrug it off and keep going.

You barely even recognize the hall you’re in, and you can’t remember the last time you’ve been here. You grip your scarlet skirts closer to you with one hand and grasp the candle tightly in the other, letting out a shaky sigh that echoes through the corridor.

You’re here with one goal in mind: get Helaena her silly spider, then run to her chambers so you never have to hold it again. To touch such a wretched thing will disgust you, no doubt, but it is worth it if it is for her. Thoughts of its impropriety are repressed yet again when you bend down to get a look at the stone floor.

It’s repulsive. What seems like thousands of thick cobwebs cover the parts of the stone by the wall, waiting to be stepped on by a group of nobles on the morrow. How do they come so fast? You do not wish to know the answer.

Swallowing down a dramatic shudder, you extend your hand, palm up, in search of an insect you think Helaena will take a liking to. You’re careful with the torch you hold, tilting it down to get a closer look at the sight before you.

There’s a little army of them, it seems, though they’re all spread out. A black widow catches your eye almost immediately, and it almost looks like its beady eyes are staring right through you. Like there’s someone behind you.

You whip your head around, but there’s no one there. “Come on, sweet thing,” You whisper, but it’s mostly to yourself rather than to the little recluse you grab speedily. You cannot fight the yelp that escapes from your throat when you feel its legs poking around in the gaps between your closed fingers.

You practically run up the steps towards where the royal chambers are after that, ignoring the piercing stares you receive from the other maids, the guards, and the noblemen alike. Fuck them, you think, ignoring the fact you’re going to repent at the Sept later for utilizing such a foul word, this is for the Queen.

Quite rudely, you realize later, you burst through the doors of Helaena’s chambers and feel a wave of guilt when you see how she startles at the noise of it. She’d always been sensitive to loud interruptions.

“Your grace,” you squeak, almost wincing at the tone of your voice. Helaena sets her embroidery hoop aside, and you can’t help but notice how similar the spider in it looks to the one in your palm. Wide eyes study you as you move to sit on the floor beside her. It’s far more clean than the hallway.

Gentle hands reach for yours. “What’s the matter?” She asks, always so empathetic, and her lips part in surprise when she sees the bug you hold. Never had you spoken of it to her, probably not wishing to offend her somehow, but she’d always known of your aversion to such critters.

She reaches for it herself, smiling softly at the feeling of its tiny legs crawling over her wrist. Gasping, as if realizing what you’ve done for her, she sets the thing in one of the empty cages behind her and turns her full attention to you. “Thank you,” she says sincerely. “You did not have to.”

“You said it yourself, my Queen. You required more of them, did you not?”

Her cheeks flush at that, a rare sight. Gingerly, almost afraid that you’ll pull away in repulsion of her touch, she places a kiss onto your temple. An honor, you’ll realize later, knowing of her usual unwillingness when it comes to physical touch.

A tentative finger traces the lines of your palm. Her eyes are still fixed on you. “…I’ve never had someone care so much for what I desire,” She admits, “or mine own interests.”

Suddenly, she interlaces her fingers with yours. “Will you stay?”

[queenendless]

🍑 TIME

A/n: The twerk GIFS got to me! All credit for the GIFS involved goes to @screampied for the Gojo and Sukuna ones, @heian-era-housewife for the Shiu Kong one, @mahgyu for the Geto one, and @blkkizzat for the Toji one. THNX U ALL for the glory that is JJK TWERKING~!

🔞 MDNI CONTENT. JJK men twerking for their lives, sub!JJK men x dom!GN!reader, ass cheeks clapping, ass slapping, ass marking, ass eating, ass abuse, cum time, impromptu ass piece. Also first time writing Sukuna and Shiu so go easy on me.

©️ PLEASE DONT PLAGIRIZE, COPY, TRANSLATE, EDIT, REPOST, AND ETC TO MY FAN WORK. Rather like comment reblog share and follow cause I personally want to reach close to 1k follows on this blog by the end of the year pls n thnx.

SYPNOSIS: OH, TWERKING IN YOUR FACE, BIG ASS MISTAKE~

GOJO with his cheeky ass grin growing every passing moment you demanded he strip those skinny pants down. Boxers included. Shameless heathen. Hanging over the bed's edge as you straddle his skinny thighs. You drum those bare melons like your own personal bongos. Granted, your cheeky bastard asked for it. And those loud passionate mewls of his earned him your red hand prints on his rippling hills. Literally chewing on them peaches came right after, your nose poking out of his ass crack while your mouth sucked his asshole, having him come one too many times against the strewn sheets to both your likings. Stroking his veiny coated dong between his lower valleys made it that much more tasty to suck him off, with his cock cumming again in your very grasp.

"Ohhh, honey loves my buns~! Yes you do – AAAAAH~!"

GETO bashfully blushes, his veiny knuckles pressed hard to his mouth to muffle his grunts and moans of painful pleasure as you spanked, clawed and teethed on those supple succulent peaches quite insistently. This cult head laid on his side along the mat covered platform, clawed the sheets with his free hand as his legs spasmed with those poofy ass pants hung off his calves like pooled up velvet. The ministrations your tongue gives drives him mad. Slobbering and slithering into his hole quite deeply with skillful strokes before suckling downwards. Like his pecs, his peaches smothered your face cheeks. Teasingly nipping at his leaky balls had his dong spasm and spurt in your face. You licking his cum off your face right into his had him squirt longer and harder.

"D – Darling~! Don't ever st — stop – AAH~!"

TOJI the physically gifted super human slash sorcerer killer that he lazily splays along the couch on his ripped tum tum, his ass practically jutting out right in your burning face, browsing his phone casually. Only to literally crush it in two with his giant beefy hand. Straddling his hips, you press his form into the cushions, as you knead and massage his chiseled cheeks, digging your nails in, before sucking aggressively to the point where your lip imprints are scattered along his now reddening bruised skin. His hips buckle sporadically right into yours but with such steel restraint not to literally shoot you up into the ceiling. The couch cushions however were torn to shreds as his stream of feral profanity fills the air as does his guttural carnal shouts of fervor.

"FUCK baby~! Starving for me already huh — NGH SHIT~!"

SUKUNA the literal King of Curses would be as amused as he would be resting his head atop two folded arms along his Malevolent Shrine, letting you lay atop him while you smack his cheeks together just to hear his skin clapping. On top of biting, tugging on his skin between your teeth, and nuzzling them fine giant melons had you on Cloud 9. His other two arms would possessively gripped on your hair to tug on now and then as well as fondle and smack your own bare tussy, his mouths popping out of his palms to layer bloody bite marks on you to get even. Raunchily making out with his a-hole had his giant cheeks suffocate your face, nearly passing out in the process from the light headed state you were left in his clapping cheeks freed you just to smack his double dripping dongs in your face to shower you in cum to lick off yourself. Guess he did get excited.

"Oh human~ To think you would react to that so sinfully~ Interesting~"

SHIU the mediator of dealings between the shady and the shadiest should have known you'd be down for a show and what it would entail at the end. The burnt out cig between his lips would fall out. Strewn across his marble work desk, you lounged in his rolling desk chair as you massaged and groped his peaches to loosen up his fatigued state. Leaving deep imprints engrained into mounds blushing in thanks. Too much workload means easily becoming mush in your titilating touch. Rutting within his fist now coated in creamy thickness as it dripped down his work pants pooled around his ankles. Wiping up some cum from his fist to your fingers, wiping it along his crack, to suck it up sloppily, including right up his hole. That got him moaning out passionately.

"Mmm~! Love, please don't let up now~! So GOOD~!"

[kysslasher]

KINKTOBER DAY 10:: praise— chrollo lucifer

WARNING:: praise, marking, unprotected sex, slightly insecure reader, unprotected sex, fwb! Relationship to lovers, reassurance, fluff, slight angst and mentions of anxiety (ooc!chrollo)

SUMMARY:: after sleeping with chrollo for months and not putting a label on it you grow envious of your friends who brag about their dating lives.

You were upset, not at your friends for having prevailed relationships and cute stories tell about them. Your upset at yourself for feeling this way, a bittersweet taste in your mouth as you and almost the entire pack of your friend group had all managed to fit inside your cramped living room in your apartment listening to Hoshi gush about how he had taken the girl he had been on a few dates before our and finally asked to make it official.

You were almost green with envy, as a small pressure in your chest grew watching your friend throw his signature smile as he swipes through pictures he had taken of him and his girlfriend on their successful date. You felt stupid, you had no idea why you had ever pitched the idea of a friends with benefits relationship with chrollo when you knew that you were looking for so much more than sex.

Who knew months down the line what you used to call attraction towards him grew, it felt like he had planted a seed in your heart and it was growing each and every time the both of you had spent an inkling amount of time together. But as the thoughts of doubt began to sprout and spread it felt like the flower that has blossomed inside your heart was slowly wilting away at the thought of him not wanting anything more than sex from you.

You are a full fledged adult, you could speak your mind how you pleased but anxiety had you in such a tight chokehold you could barely feel yourself breathing. You were so out of it that you had realized that time had ticked past and within the next hour of boisterous laughter and stupid jokes everyone seemed to spill out of your apartment all at once leaving behind you and chrollo who lingered behind cleaning up the small mess that you and him had both made on the coffee table.

Once settling next to you his hand settles on your thigh comfortably, giving a small nudge it knocks you right out of your thoughts. "Are you okay? You seem really out of it" he asks as he grows concerned with how you've been staring into space like you had just found a secret portal burned into the wallpaper of your walls. You shake your head giving a tight lipped smile hoping that would be enough to send him off with no more questions asked. "I'm fine, just a little tired" you lie through your teeth.

"Are you sure? You seem like you have something important on your mind. The last time I saw you think this hard I thought I smelt burning wood" he jokes making you scoff as you push him gently with a grin on your lips. "I'm fine, just wanna lay in my bed and sleep. Nothings going on up there it's like a desert right now. Completely empty" you point to your head letting your hand fall back in your lap like dead weight.

"Alright, let's get you settled then" he says with grunt pushing himself up from the comfortable crushed velvet cushions attached to your couch. Holding out a hand to you, your eyes flicker from his face to his hand as if your almost skeptical to take it, but regardless let him pull you up from the couch. You both move around each other as if this was a normal routine— and yet at this point in time it most likely is how you end your nights.

Changing clothes into pajamas, and brushing your teeth together like any regular couple except you weren't even labeled as such. The thoughts come rushing back as you finally lay down under the warm sheets on your bed. You sigh as you turn on your TV flicking mindlessly through channels hoping to find something remotely entertaining to keep you away from your thoughts and thinking your feelings will subside until the morning. Until you feel the bed beside you dip and from the corner of your eyes you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

"Can I help you?" You ask cutting the silence between you both "are you going to keep acting like nothings wrong or do you want to spit it out?" He asks seriously a tone you almost never hear from him. Your tongue pokes at your cheek as you weigh the pros and cons of what the possibilities would be if you told him how you felt. And although the cons outweigh the pros you open your mouth to speak as you get fed up with yourself.

"What are we?" You ask finally and although the weight on your back had been yet to be lifted. "I don't really know, we've never talked about it" he speaks with a sudden softness to his voice "we have sex, we cuddle, we have sleepovers almost every night, I'm pretty sure half of my clothes are at your place, and we kiss each other goodbye. Things that friends with benefits don't do" you babble mindlessly.

Turning onto your side you turn to look over at his expression only seeing a thoughtful one. "We can be whatever you want us to be— if there is an us" he says as his eyes flicker from his lap to your face almost nervous at your response. You feel like you could melt into the sheets of your bed and evaporate into thin air. Sucking in a shaky breath you answer "I want us to be official, I'm tired of feeling like you like the aspect of a built in girlfriend, but not the idea of it being me and you" you sigh finally letting the words that had been scratching at the back of your throat for the past 2 months.

His hands suddenly cup your cheeks warming your face up almost immediately he leans in pressing a soft kiss to your lips, chaste yet it got his point across without having to speak. Your finally releasing what felt like a million caged butterflies loose in your stomach. "Will you? Be my girlfriend I mean" he says correcting himself almost immediately. You let out a small puff of laughter against his lips you nod as your eyes flutter shut content with the feeling of your forehead pressed against his.

Pecking your lips repeatedly until you reciprocate more desperately, your lips press against his eagerly as they lock. The moment your lips meet more harshly, has been a long time coming, an eruption of your lust. His lips are warm and gentle as he kisses you softly, delicately, as if he isn't sure you're real and he's still checking.

His hand finds their way to your hips pressing down into the sheets not daring to break from the kiss. Soon enough everything becomes blurred into one, your clothes being stripped and discarded to the floor of your bedroom floor chrollo leaves behind opened mouth kisses against your neck sucking and biting marks onto your supple skin as his hands wonder between your legs. "I've been thinking of this for a while now" he mumbled as he continues to kiss up your neck and latch his lips with yours.

Letting out a shrill gasp you feel his fingers press against your clit rendering you eager for more, his fingers work to move in figure eights, letting out small moans and whimpers "you're so wet" he whispers against your lips "feels so good against my fingers" he continues his words of praise leaving you clenching around nothing as you whine. "I need you so bad" you whimper, wanting to skip foreplay entirely— not that he opposed either.

"It's okay, I got you" he nods as his legs settle between your thighs Watching the tip of his cock rub up and down your slit as your hips twitch in sensitivity. His cock glistening from a mixture of precum and your slick he presses the head of his cock at your entrance slowly pushing inside you enjoying the warm and tight feeling inside you.

His hands move to either side of your head as he looks down on you with complete adoration in his eyes. Pushing deeper inside you he lets out a moan "fuck you feel so good" he says as he catches his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"You're so big" you slur seeing how good he filled you up to the brim your arms wrap around his neck your foreheads pressed together as you watch his begin to slowly move. chrollo couldn't get enough of the sight as his cock disappeared inside your Pussy.

His cock buried deep inside you that you moan and dig crescent shaped dents into his skin. set a pace for bouncing in his lap. The feeling of your velvety walls tightening around making him choke back a moan.

"Oh- god" you whisper shakily. His hands holding onto your hips guiding a pace, the soft sound of skin slapping with your small moans could be heard throughout the room.

You looked so good with your chest bouncing and your hair all messy. You looked good with a small sheen of sweat on your skin and your makeup smeared, he was addicted to the sight.

chrollo; eager to let his load off inside you, holds your thighs, stopping you from bouncing any longer and begins to thrust his hips into you. The feeling of his tip pushing at your cervix.

His hips piston into you as your thighs and ass jiggle at the repetitive thrusts "tight there!" You moan as you feel him pounding in a certain part of your walls. You tighten around him as your essence forms a white ring around the base of his dick."Just like that! I just want you to come inside me" you babble mindlessly as his stomach churns at the words spewing out.

"Yeah? Want me to fill you up with my cum?" he groans as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten and chrollo's death grip on the fat of your thighs almost sends you over the edge if it wasn't for how hard he was pounding you.

You nod eagerly as you begin to alternate between grinding and bouncing, your nails drag against his back leaving behind a red and irritated trail- yet he didn't mind it as it pushed him closer to his orgasm.

Leaning down to him your moans against each other's lips push you closer and closer. Your back is arching as you move faster wanting to cum so badly "keep going. Don't stop" he groaned, letting his head fall back.

His hair messily pushed against his forehead as it was covered in sweat and his eyes rolled back "god I'm gonna cum" he says breathily "I want you to look at me when you cum okay?" Says opening his eyes looking up at you.

You nod as you let your moans fall past your lips, the sensation building more and more until it became to overwhelming you gasp "I'm gonna cum" you whine as your hips fall more hastily on him, his moans mixed with yours as he drowned in the feeling of your walls spasming around him pushing him completely over the edge.

"Fuck" he groaned as warm spurts of cum filled you, grinding down and letting the cum spill past your walls and down the base of his cock you hum as your content with your orgasm. Pulling out he leans over to his side of the bed once more the both of you smiling as you stare at the ceiling. You feel his arm wrap around your waist pulling you closer, kissing the skin on your shoulder you feel comfortable as your breathing slows down.

"You did good. And I want you to know that I don't want anybody else just you" he speaks finally relieving you off all the stress that clouded your mind, nodding off you slip away sleeping with light puffs of air and soft snoring content with your night.

[erenoir]

𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

💿 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚏𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚣𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛

genre: single father!toji, slow burn, angst then fluff, nsfw, MDNI

warnings: 18+ dark content, alcoholism, breeding kink, daddy/mommy titles used, unprotected sex, oral sex, verbal fighting, discussions of abandonment, initial toxic relationship, light gun use.

featuring: toji x fem step-mom!reader

summary: you and toji had met each other at your worst, twin flames fueling each other’s bad habits. you spent weeks upon weeks as on-and-off fuck buddies, manipulating and using each other before throwing one another to the curb again. nothing could save the turbulent relationship of a touch-deprived woman and a man afraid of love, never daring to wave your white flags to one another… until the night toji dropped a bomb that would make or break the two of you forever. | find it on ao3: [☆]

word count: 14.9k

a/n: tell jesus that the bitch is back- i’m kidding! no but really, its been a long year (or more?) of me being away from this blog. i haven't done this in a while, but i have too many delusions and thoughts to not make them into stories, i missed writing too much. anyways, if you like this: reblog, comment, check out my other stuff, etc! luv u xx send toji thirsts in honor of szn 2

“Okay now Megs, daddy and I will be back tomorrow morning, okay?” 

Your knees pressed into the cold floor as your fingers tangled themselves in your stepson’s wild, raven locks. The little boy stuck his bottom lip out in protest, your heart swelling at the sight of it. Your thumb met his velvety skin as you stopped a tear from rolling any further down his rouged cheek. 

“I don’t want you and daddy to go!” He wailed, a tiny voice strained with big emotions. The glum boy ran into your open arms, clinging to you like velcro. The creamy silk of your blazer swept across the nape of his neck as you enveloped him into a cozy embrace.

“Oh Megumi, you’ll be alright! Your father and I will just be away for the night. Then tomorrow… I can make you all the pancakes in the world for dinner!” His eyebrows knit together and his rosy nose scrunched up as you shook his face in your hands. Little Megumi's messy, toothless grin punctured your heart so deeply. You adored the boy endlessly, even if he wasn’t your son by blood, a connection so spirited manifested itself between the two of you. 

“Really mommy?! Do you really mean all of the pancakes in the world?” You let a gentle fingertip feather itself across the tip of Megumi’s nose as you rose to your feet to ruffle the boy’s hair, “Of course I mean it baby! Daddy will do whatever it takes to get you every last drop of pancake batter in the whole, wide, world… isn’t that right, honey?”

You shifted your weight to your left foot to get a good look at Toji, Megumi’s father. He planted himself in his usual crushed velvet armchair that rested in front of the fireplace, thighs sprawled out across the plush cushion. His cheek sunk into the palm of his hand as he ogled at his precious family. 

All mine, Toji thought, all fucking mine. 

The brooding man sauntered up to you two with ardency, his husky arms snaking around your waist, pulling your backside into his chest and placing a wet kiss to the crook of your neck. Toji rested his hand atop of Megumi’s hair, nearly drowning your little one’s head with its size. You gazed on dotingly as your lover’s biceps contracted when he picked up your son, cooing him into a comfortable silence. The fireplace illuminated the quaint living space an intimate shade of orange, fractals of light bouncing off of the most hidden corners of the room. The shadow of your lover danced across the walls as he rocked the raven-haired child to sleep. You massaged red fingernails into his burly shoulders, feeling the fabric of his black t-shirt ripple between your fingertips.

“We’re so lucky, aren’t we?” You purred into Toji’s neck as you two caressed the light of your lives, sound asleep in his arms. Toji peered over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of you, watching your maternal instincts consume your body as you outstretched your soft hands to the boy. Something within Toji burst in that moment, seeing his lover care for his child as if he were her own. 

“Let me take him to bed, my love.” Dark eyes trailed your steps attentively, watching your hips sway as you cradled his son in your nimble arms, your tender hand nurturing the back of his head, holding it tightly to your chest. His pupils dilated when you started whispering lullabies into Megumi’s ear. A  series of “Mommy loves you,” and “I’ve got you my baby,” made Toji’s jaw clench and every part of him swell with adoration.

—

You once arrived in Toji’s life as a fiery little creature. Wild, uncaring, and foaming at the mouth for attention. He didn’t see you as anything other than a friend with benefits. It was a fair exchange, Toji satiated your need for unhealthy attention as a girl disowned by her distant parents, and you satiated his need for a little rag doll as a hitman with a severe lack of emotional intelligence. He needed a woman that would do most anything to please him and receive the gratification she so desperately craved in return. Room 4C, that was the room you two would run away to every weekend. 

It was a malignant relationship you had, you were unabashedly toxic to one another. Toji would show up drunk on most occasions, and you would allow him to do whatever he wanted to your feeble little body and enjoy every second of it. You would fight just to see who could scream louder, until the misty light from the sun rising sliced through the cracks of the thick curtains. The old motel would’ve kicked you two out if it weren’t for how much business you brought them. Your eyes stung with crazed tears, both of pleasure and pain, and Toji was the one that induced them every time. Every smack to the cheek was met with a tender kiss, and every “I hate you,” was met with a chorus of apologies. You loved each other in wicked ways, but you loved each other nonetheless. You pushed as Toji pulled, never could either of you find a moment of peace to let your fragile emotions rest.

That was until one night where you asked Toji to meet you in your usual room, at your usual time, 8 p.m. Only that night had you two finally waved your white flags and extinguished your venomous behavior to one another.

—

Your toes were painted a wine red as they ran through the fuzzy carpet below you, feet swinging over the twin-sized motel bed. Rain rushed the windows with fervor, the storm warning you had received this morning not clicking in your brain until that very moment. The muffled voices of the news anchors suffocated your eardrums as they grew louder. The silence in the room was painstaking and you didn’t know how much longer you could last solely listening to the rhythmic drips of the leaking bathroom sink. Your eyelids began to droop as the neon leds of the plastic alarm clock flicked from 8:59 to 9:00. The stiff sheets felt like royal silk at that moment, sleep threatening to consume your body. The room around you shut on and off, eyelids blinking slowly, and your mouth dipping into the slightest “o” shape. the cotton of your t-shirt rode up your thighs as you slid yourself under the covers. Toji isn’t coming tonight, truthfully, the thought grazed your mind when it had only been ten minutes after 8, Toji was never any more tardy than that. But as you watched the clock now switch from 9:04 to 9:05, the hint of betrayal that had felt like a pin prick before now felt like you’d just been gutted. 

Your body was swallowed in the darkness of the motel room, though you did leave the news on, maybe the late night anchors could keep you company in your lover’s absence. In your dream you saw the dark eyes that taunted you into submission. How pathetic was it to dream about a man who couldn’t care less about you besides what you had underneath your underwear? In your dream you were running, your earthly body was riddled with cold sweats and shivering into oblivion, you heard pounding, it grew rapidly with every step you took, the beat of your heart staying in time, though the pounding felt too real to be fabricated through your imagination alone.

Then your body jolted awake to a vigorous gust of wind, and suddenly the banging became real, and whoever demanded that kind of attention from you at midnight was about to receive a pounding to their face. With your eyes cloudy and vision blurred, you tried to adjust to the dark blue of your surroundings. 

“Ah, shit!” The stark yellow light of the bedside lamp blinded you, a shaky hand rested on your forehead to act as a shield to the harsh, artificial rays. The comforter of the rigid bed you laid on grew wet, rainwater dripping from the dark figure that stood above your tired body. 

“T-Toji?” You stammered into the abyss, you had no courage to look up and see who had woken you up from your restless slumber. After all, you didn’t want the last thing you saw to be your murderer. 

“No, it’s Megumi,” your hand snapped to your side to see from whom such a soft voice was emitted. Above you stood a small boy with porcelain skin and raven hair, he couldn’t have been more than 6 years old.

My god, you thought, he looks just like-

“Toji is my dad, he said to wait in this room while he- while he got m-more of his happy juice… s-so he pushed me through th-that window a-and n-now my knee is bleeding!”

The young boy who tried to remain stoic eventually broke into a fit of relentless tears. He's a child, he’s a- he’s Toji’s… Toji has a child. Your brain went through the motions, trying to ride every wave of the ocean it was thrown into. 

Until one of those waves truly hit you- and you realized that there was a fucking child in your room.

And all of the sorrow you felt for the boy had turned into pure, unadulterated rage for his poor excuse of a father. 

You peeled yourself from the bed and tripped over the legs of your jeans as you tried to shrug them on while making your way to the door. Your hand stopped at the knob before turning to the kid. 

“Fuck… don’t go anywhere, okay kid?” You mumbled as you fished the pack of Marlboro's from the back pocket of your Levi’s and jammed one into your mouth, busting through the door and into the rainy parking lot… search frantically- ferally, for the one person you were dying to see most.

“Where the FUCK are you?! You asshole!” You screamed, voice cracking. “Show your fucking face you… you coward!” You were speechless, running to the middle of the parking lot, and scanning every dark car for someone hiding out- hiding from you. The rain sunk through your tank top, goosebumps pricking your skin, and then next you felt the tears. He was the last person you wanted to cry for, he didn’t deserve it, the fucker would probably enjoy it if you didn’t know him any better.

“Fuck you!” You seethed, bare feet taking you in circles around the flooded lot. “Fuck! You! I hate you!” The tears finally poked through, staining your cheeks with old mascara.

“You always do this shit Toji Fushiguro! I hope you’re fucking dead! You fucking deadbeat father!”

–

After twenty minutes of your parking lot charades, the motel manager had to nearly drag you back to your room- a freezing cold, screaming maniac. The boy- Megumi, was sitting next to you cross-legged on the bed with a patched up knee and an ice cream sandwich from the vending machine three rooms down. He hummed to the tune of the children’s show that played on the television, swaying back and forth in contentment. The fact that you were babysitting the child of the man that you were fuck buddies with amused you as you scoffed to yourself. 

“You know… your dad didn’t tell me had a kid,” the little boy’s attention remained fixed on the screen, ignoring you completely while his dark eyes memorized the flashes of color and cartoons in front of him. Hm, he really is Toji’s kid. 

“How's your knee, Megs?” Your fingers ran across the pink bandaid you’d stuck over his scrape, making sure the adhesive wasn’t lifting off of his damp skin. Vanilla filling seeped through Megumi’s tiny fingers. Chocolate crumbles littered his plump cheeks as he stuck the final bite of his ice cream sandwich in his mouth, stuffing his cheeks full. 

“My knee is fine!” He mumbled through a full mouth, patting his sticky palm over his wound. Your mind toyed with the idea of whether or not now was a good time to mention his father again, but knowing Toji, if you didn’t mention him he wouldn’t even bother coming back. So keeping the boy’s best interest at heart, you casually brought up his father’s name for a second time. 

“Megumi… can you tell me where your dad is?” You folded your hands in your lap as you awaited his response. Tears pricked at the boy’s gloomy eyes, a storm just as tumultuous was raging in him as it was outside. Messy palms wiped themselves across his white race car shirt, before they came up to wipe at his face.

“I-I told you… he s-said he was going to get more of his happy juice… he said to wait here with a lady named ___. Th-that’s what he said to do!”

Megumi’s quiet words turned into an erratic tantrum. Tears flooded his eyes as he snorted up a wad of snot, the race car on his shirt slowly starting to drive on wet roads. You were going to kill Toji. You didn’t give a crap about the way he treated you anymore, he had a child who was helpless. And god knows the child was helpless if the person Toji decided to leave him with was you. 

The docile boy leaned sweetly into your arms, begging for some form of comfort, it was evident that he’d never received any from his own father before. The sleeves of your sweater moved hesitantly to wrap themselves around Megumi’s shaking body, afraid that if you were to embrace him fully the dam that’s been holding back all of your emotions would suddenly break. It wasn’t your place to nurture this child, it wasn’t your place to offer him another outlet for parental guidance. But as you sat at the edge of the motel bed with the little boy, it felt as if you were sitting at the edge of a cliff, and you could either sink or swim with Megumi’s life in your hands. The moment you felt his frail arms hug you back, the dam fell, and you were in too deep to stop giving a fuck now. 

You brought a hand to his wild hair. It stuck up in all directions, he told you earlier that he stole some gel from his dad’s bathroom, and that Toji let him do it however he wanted to. You remember laughing at that, seemingly because it sounded like something Toji would say. Your cheek felt cool against the top of his head, his hair still drying from the torrential storm that brewed just outside the window. Every string inside of you that was holding your emotional state together at the seams had ripped in two as Megumi began to sob more violently than before. His red cheeks moved from right to left across your sweater, wiping snot, drool and tears all over you. With thoughts clouded and the slightest knowledge of how to take care of a child flying out the window, you began to panic. Toji had left his offspring, his flesh and blood, with you, his emotionally corrupted, immature, and attention deprived fuck buddy. 

Why?

With tender hands you tuck the covers under Megumi’s petite body. Your heart crumbled completely when you saw how the tears dried on Megumi’s cheeks, how his breathing was congested with mucus, and how his swollen eyes twitched in his sleep. He was having a nightmare. The bed dipped in as you sat beside him and ran fragile fingers over his forehead, sweeping his long hair out of his eyes. For the first time that night you let tears fall from your eyes, as you gazed at the broken child with an instinct to care for him, to help him grow, if Toji wasn’t going to be there to do it. You watched as Megumi’s body relaxed under your touch, his breathing smooth, and his eyebrows drooping. A small smile formed on your face, it was time to fake happiness for this boy, if it meant that he would be okay.

“He’s a g-good kid r-ight?” Your head snapped up as Toji’s overbearing body stumbled through the window, his hand desperately grasping for some kind of support from the wall. God, you really needed to lock that fucking window or god knows what other Fushiguro would trip through it. 

An animosity so intense boiled within you, clawing at your stomach, dying to be taken out on the drunken man stood in front of you. The tears returned to your eyes, his silhouette doubled as your vision blurred. 

“D-don’t you fucking come near me you asshole,” you whispered, there were no words in the world that could’ve described how badly you wanted to scream at Toji until his eardrums popped. Alas you couldn’t… you couldn’t let Megumi see his father like this. 

“Exc-use me but I'd l-like to see my-my son,” words slurred out of his wet lips, a line of saliva falling out of the corner of his mouth. 

“Toji… don’t even think for a second I’d let you near him,” your delicate hands pushed against his steel chest, helplessly punching into him to stop him in his tracks. His strong hands wrapped themselves around your wrists tightly as he looked you in the eyes with an intoxicated heat. 

“Toji… why? Why wouldn’t you tell me you had a fucking child? Is this who you ran away from every weekend we spent together?” Your hand shakily pointed to little Megumi’s sleeping body, “Do you understand how fucked up that makes me feel? How fucked up that makes you? God! I knew you were a piece of shit but Toji… this is rich, this is- this is the icing on the fucking cake… you disgust me!” You whispered as Toji’s hands repositioned themselves to cup your cheeks, his calloused thumbs coming to wipe the lines of mascara running down your face. Although blank and empty, his stare alone spoke a thousand words.

It told you that he was broken, that he was filled to the brink with regret, that he hated- no, absolutely loathed himself. Toji knew he was a piece of shit, he knew he was wrong for hiding his son from you, and he knew he was wrong for hiding you from his son. He had lasted long enough pushing everything under a compact rug until it couldn’t hold much more, and now every fucked up thing in his life was catching up to him, and you were watching it happen right in this depressing, wet, and cramped motel room.

“I-I didn’t know wh-where else to bring him, I-I mean look at me I can’t be with him right now…” Toji fell to his knees and gripped your calves with his hands, crying into the damp denim of your jeans. You stood stiff, frozen in place and in disbelief at what was happening. The brazen man that you knew so well, that dripped with confidence, with ego, with a sense of security, had shattered completely. Toji’s back muscles contracted as he dry heaved onto the floor, the contents of his stomach just missing your feet. He looked up at you with an empty expression. Snot was dripping out of his nose, his jaw was trembling and his face was littered with tears and red splotches.

“Toji-” You reached for him.

“No… please hear m- me out…”

“I'll listen to you… outside…” You fired, “I’m not- I refuse to do this here when your son is sleeping right there!” You hoisted his body up off the floor as the two of you staggered into the storm. He leaned his body up against the door to 4C as you closed it, boring holes into your head, desperate for you to say anything. You wrapped your sweater around you tighter as rain propelled towards your shivering bodies. You two must have looked mad… drenched, drunken and depressed, in the middle of a storm, enveloped in darkness, hugging yourselves as if that would be of any help. Only the light of the moon and from the other motel rooms made it possible for you to see Toji’s face. The sounds of his rabid sobs mixed with the intensity of the rain pelting the ground, the freezing winds icing over his face sobered him up a bit. Toji began speaking as you looked down at your bare feet once again being swallowed by the wet pavement.

“I don’t trust anyone else,” Toji burns a hole into the parking lot with his stare, watching it flood slowly, he didn't have the guts to look at you, not yet. The single traffic light across the street whipped back and forth in the wind, streaks of light painting the foggy air. You leaned up against the door next to Toji, your tiny body being engulfed by his large, shaking one.

“…I didn’t trust a-anyone else w-with Megumi, I’m a threat to my own fucking kid, can you believe that?” You thought about it for a second, and you could completely believe it, the fact that Toji hid his son from you for this long should’ve spoken for itself. Your somber silhouettes shivered against the outside of the motel, both of your minds racing to deliberate how you would work yourselves through this mess. You almost wanted to laugh, the last people on this earth you would expect to be parents were you and Toji. With the breath kicked out of you, you slid down to the pavement and let yourself hit the ground. You hugged your knees with your shuddering hands and watched the cars slowly maneuver their way around the dimly lit parking lot. Toji’s hand navigates its way to the top of your head and smooths his fingers over your hair.

“Toji… I just have so many questions-”

“So ask them,” for once you looked at him with soft eyes, his voice trembled every time he spoke, you could try to fill the shell of a fractured man with love, with empathy, but everything you could possibly give him would just seep through the cracks of his ego. 

“…I keep my circles small… so I didn’t have many options of who to leave the kid with… you’re the only person that I’ve allowed myself to get close to…” He ran a hand over his face, his body began to sink down next to you, extending his legs flat to the ground as his pants soaked with rainwater, “and you haven’t rejected me yet so I threw one more thing on you… is that okay?” 

Was it okay? Of all the fucked up things you and Toji have done together, you scoffed in disbelief as your hands began to trace circles on the flooding ground beneath you, swirling rainwater in between your fingers.

“…and his mother?” Your voice cracked as your heart sank at what you could only predict his answer would be. Toji's jaw stiffened, grinding it back and forth as he reached for a pack of soggy cigarettes from his back pocket. 

“Shit,” he muttered. He rung out the pack of smokes in his strong hold, the damp paper pushing between the cracks of his fingers. You looked at him and he looked straight ahead, watching small ripples form in the puddles of water upon impact from the rain.

“She’s dead… died when he was just born,” your chest weakened at his words, eyes overwhelmed with sorrow. Toji's lips began to tremble as he tried to bite back his tears. He was tired of crying, tired of not being strong anymore, and tired of not being a good father, for that’s the strongest thing a man could ever be. 

“…So the kid got stuck with me… he- I don’t deserve him, I don’t deserve to be a father to a kid as good as him…” In his most vulnerable state, you chalked up the courage to take his hand in yours and rub your thumb over his scarlet knuckles. You sat like that for a while, legs sprawled out over the drenched concrete, the ends of your feet grazing each other ever so softly.

“Toji…” your voice came out barely above a whisper, “…don’t say that… Megumi needs you,” Toji’s breath hitched in his chest as he coughed back the urge to cry anymore, “Megumi needs you to get better for him… that kid- he looks up to you so fucking much. He sat next to me for an hour talking about you alone.”

You pulled your knees into your chest and buried them under your sweater to shield your icy legs from the cold. You felt Toji’s blue eyes burn holes into the side of your head, he was desperate for any taste of guidance.

“You’re lying… the kid barely knows me, he”-

“So help him know you! Toji you can’t fucking give up on that kid… and you sure as hell can’t dump him on me and expect me to make up for the years you neglected him! I won’t fucking do it, not without you…” Your screams broke into a whisper. 

You wanted Toji. You wanted him a month ago when he was just an asshole without a kid, and you want him now that he’s just an asshole with a kid. You shifted your body to sit closer to his, his silhouette swallowing yours in size as you curled up next to him on the concrete. Resting your head on his shoulder, he inched his hand towards yours to lift your knuckles to his lips and kiss them gently, one by one.

“Toji…” you continued, your eyes not leaving the ground, “I want to be with you, I want to love you- and if Megumi comes with you I’ll love him too… that’s what you’re asking of me, yeah?” You lifted your head to look at him, leaving your faces only inches apart as you gazed into each other’s eyes. Toji nodded his head slowly, he never asked for help, it was a sign of vulnerability. But the kid was the only exception for Toji, he always has been. He'd always absorb everything like a sponge until he physically couldn’t hold any more dirty water, tearing every time he had to ring out all of his baggage. 

“You wanna know why you’re an asshole?” You’re probed, finally striking a light on one of his gnarly cigs and blowing the smoke onto his face. The scarred corner of his mouth twitched upward, enough for only you to notice. 

“Pray tell, doll.” He chuckled in a husky voice, his calloused hand reaching for the cigarette you held before you smacked it away. He scoffed, “That came from my pack, you know?” 

“The least you could do for me is bum me a cig, no?” You jabbed, the burning cherry hanging from your fingers as your hand bounced around with your words. 

Silence. 

“Well… you’re an asshole Fushiguro…” You continued without any more permission, hesitant to tell him what you wanted to. You feared you’d opened up too much already. Your tongue dragged over your teeth as you worked out your next sentence. 

“You-“ You took a long drag, “You are a raging dick, actually. Because-” you paused to look over at him, and surprisingly enough, you had his complete attention. And his eyes weren’t hardened but- soft. And his breathing was less ragged than it was ten minutes ago. You swallowed hard as his eyes dropped to your mouth. 

“You know you could hop on the next train out of here with no intention of seeing me again…” You whispered. “And I’d fucking love the shit out of that kid regardless, right?” He smirked at your choice of words, Toji tried hard not to love things, in the end everything he gets close to fades away and dies. But he believed that he loved you, and he loved the way you were prepared to drop everything to nurture the most secret part of his life. All he could do was stare at your face, gentle, warm, and glowing in the rain. Though it felt like the whole world was after him he felt safe next to you, and he despised the feeling, for it meant that he was prepared to give himself to someone for a second time, and he wasn’t ready to lose another. 

“And that’s why I left him with you,” he smirked. He winced as you smacked him across the face, your eyes wide and feral.

“Yeah I know, I know that’s why you did it you fuck!” You scream-whispered, still mindful of Megumi just behind the door. “But don’t expect me to be- h-hot shit at this mother thing- I won’t hesitate to throw you under the bus if it means protecting him!” 

You were standing now, and you were pacing, and reality was hitting you, and the adrenaline rush you were riding for the past thirty minutes was wearing off and you were scared. Your hand shook as you rose the dwindling cigarette to your lips, your body shaking from both the rain and the kiss of reality. Struggling to inhale from the damp bud, Toji cut off your train of thought.

“I know you won’t, that’s why I left him with you,” he said sternly, his figure now towering over yours. He grabbed his face in your hands, and it was just as much a loving act as it was a ‘I need you to get your head on straight and focus’ act. He pushed your cheeks in and shook your face ever so slightly, “You listen to me- That. Is. Why. I. Left. Him. With. You.” 

He spoke roughly, dividing every word with a quick pause so you could get it through your head. He pressed his forehead to yours so you were eye to eye. “Hey,” he brushed some matted hair away from your wet forehead. You knew he saw the tears welling in your eyes, and you wish you could push him away so he could never see you cry again. But you couldn’t, you felt that you loved him far too much to do that. Your shoulders shook as you let them fall, you cursed yourself for letting it happen. 

“Fucking listen to me,” Toji jabbed, “I left him with you because you- you don’t fear me. You will throw me under the bus, you’ll push me in front of a fucking train, for that kid,” he actually laughed at the thought, “I know no other person that will hold me accountable- even if it meant my bloody death.” 

You shook yourself out of his hold, throwing your burnt out cigarette on the ground between you two, setting an imaginary border so you could think clearly away from him. 

“Are you sober enough to hear me out?” You asked quietly but not lacking any ounce of aggression. 

“Since you slapped the living shit out of me? I’d say I’m pretty okay,” Toji took one step towards you before you stopped him in his tracks.

“You stay over there and you listen to me,” you growled. You nervously rung out your hands, pulling on every knuckle and joint while you spoke. 

“… I hope you don’t… run away.” You paused, “No- actually, you will not run away,” Your words left your mouth like you were prophesying commandments to a lost disciple. “He needs you with him, Toji. He is tired of you disappearing.”

Toji listened to you like your voice was the last thing he’d hear in his life, yet he wanted you to stop talking. The more you spoke the more bound to the tracks he felt, and he had never been bound to anything before, he did as he pleased, always. So Toji prayed you wouldn’t utter another word that would keep him here. He had to leave, if he stayed you would get hurt, that’s how it always went. But with every word that left your mouth you pulled him in and glued him to the ground he stood on. 

He let out an exasperated sigh as you wrapped a hand in his hair, using it as leverage to push your foreheads back together. He was speechless, there was so much he could say to you, to convince you to kick him to the curb, but his words were stuck in his throat.

“I am tired of you disappearing,” the ropes that kept his body bound to the tracks drew tighter, and in the distance he saw the headlights of a train inching closer by the second.  

“I know you think it’s hopeless, that it’s not even worth trying, but your son having any shot at living a normal life is worth fighting for… Toji, please-” 

And then the train struck him, just as promised, this wouldn’t be the last one you pushed him in front of. 

Your grip on Toji’s hair loosened as his lips crushed themselves onto yours. He pulled you closer, needed you closer, hugging you into his chest as you caressed the sides of his face with your hands, thumbs rubbing at his scarred cheekbones. You tasted like salvation. Toji knew deep down that you were his salvation. 

“I’m not asking you to fix me, I’m way past that- I'm just asking you to be patient… for the kid.” He whispered against your lips, the tears that littered your cheeks dampened his. “I care…” he swallowed his words, “...I care about you- alot.”

“Jesus fuck, did it kill you to say that?” For the first time that night you laughed genuinely, and Toji’s mind was clear. It was carved in stone, he had claimed you and now he’s responsible for your life now, alongside Megumi’s. He raised his hands off your hips as if you were a fragile porcelain doll, too afraid to hurt you now that he’s held you- truly, held you. You looked at him questioningly, already missing the feeling of his skin against yours.

“I don't want you to get hurt… I don’t want Megumi to lose anyone else, he needs something I’m afraid I can’t give to him-”

“Shut up,” your eyebrows furrowed together as you shook his head gently, “Don’t go there… you dumb fuck,” bringing his lips to yours once more, he finally released under your touch, the feeling of you safe and in his arms put his restless thoughts to bed.

“I'm here, Megumi is sleeping soundly inside… we’re gonna be okay. Everything is a fucking mess. Because you did kind of fuck it, but we’ll figure it out,” you insisted, taking his hands in yours and placing them on your heart. Toji dropped his head to the crook of your neck and closed his eyes as the soft thump of your heartbeat grazed against his fingertips.

“Do you feel that? I’m alive you asshole… I’m not dead yet.”

—-

Toji knew you would stick around for a while.

He was right, because here you were, two years later, with Megumi cradled in your arms as you carried him up the winding steps of your Victorian home, placing soft kisses on his forehead and lulling him to sleep. Today was the anniversary of that night at the motel, when you met Megumi for the first time and decided to help Toji care for him even when you were entirely lost yourself. You haven’t been back there since, you three left the next morning on a train and never looked back. You told Toji that if you did it would be bad luck, so he kept moving forward for you and his son, to finally give him a life he deserved. But tonight you two thought it would be nice to visit one more time, on your anniversary, just for old time’s sake.

Toji watched as you tiptoed back down the steps and gave him a gentle thumbs up, signaling that Megumi had finally fallen asleep. Toji wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up into him, peppering kisses all over your blushing face. You placed a sloppy kiss onto his lips before jumping down and giving him a little twirl.

“C’mon baby, let’s go!” You wrapped your hand in his and dragged him to the door. His face relaxed into a content smile, after all this time, his little bird was still as free as ever.

—

Around your neck you donned a good locket that Toji had gotten you for your birthday, it moved up and down against your chest as you took deep breaths standing in front of an old friend. The door to room 4C looked just as you left it, with a few more cracks here and there. Your body shuddered as you looked down at the ground in front of it, still feeling the presence of your younger self clad in a drenched sweater, curled up next to a younger, drunken Toji. A warm smile spread across your face as you remembered how scared you two were, unsure of the world and without a plan, shivering in the pouring rain as you thought about your futures together. 

Tonight the sky was clear, the only thing that surrounded you was the sound of cicadas singing. You looked up to your side as you felt Toji’s fingers intertwined with yours, holding onto your hand loosely. He looked down at you and smirked, although you two were much more mature and cared about whether you lost your lives or not for Megumi’s sake, deep down you two would always be the notorious fuck-ups that happened to fit perfectly together.

“Wanna wreck some havoc one last time?” he asked you. You giggled as your hand twirled the brass doorknob, entering the room that you and Toji made love in more times than you could count, the room that you got high in, got drunk in, the room that you fought in, that you threw television remotes at each other in… the room that you eventually fell in love in.

Your fingertips grazed the stiff blankets, the cherry red countertops, the cheap coffee maker, as you took every detail in. Everything was left just the way it was on the night. You let out a chuckle underneath your breath as you sunk your fingers into the mattress, remembering how Megumi’s body slept here soundly as you and Toji decided what the fuck you were to make of yourselves just outside.

“I'm glad you pushed Megumi in here that night…” you whispered as you lifted the blanket up, they could never remove the stain of his chocolate ice cream sandwich from the white sheets. Toji watched as you reminisced, taking in every inch of you, before your eyes finally met as you dragged your gaze across the tacky flower paintings that decorated the walls. Your eyes rested on his face as you drank the sight of him in. Toji was happy, he was at peace with what his life had turned out to be.

“The way it all happened was absolutely fucking ridiculous I hope you know that…” You rolled your eyes at him as he crossed his arms and leaned up against the kitschy wallpaper. “...but I wouldn't change a thing, it happened the way it did for a reason.” 

He watched as your hips swayed back and forth underneath your black slip dress, his heartbeat speeding up as you draped your arms around his neck and leaned him further back into the wall. Toji, the hardened man that could effortlessly punch through anything that looked at him the wrong way, softened immediately when he was with you. You were his biggest source of strength, but his ultimate weakness nonetheless.

“Hold me, Toji,” you whispered as you brought your lips to his, feeling his brute arms tie themselves around your tiny waist, “…I love you baby,” you murmured as your lips moved against his.

“Thank you,” Toji had spoken for the first time since you two entered the room, too enamored with you to form any coherent words until this point. He watched as the orange light from the bedside table illuminated the back of your head, the halo of light framed your face like an angel.

“What?” you continued to pepper kisses all over his face, gently alternating back and forth from each cheek as your fingers played with his dark hair.

“For saving me… for loving Megumi… you didn’t have to fucking do that… you could’ve been free but you chose this life,” he pulled you up into him, shoving his face into your neck and taking in your scent. Toji was deathly afraid of losing you, so when he held you, he held you like it was going to be the last time he’d ever get to. You were his second chance at life, and if he could, he’d have you by his side forever.

“And I wouldn’t have chosen any different.” You croaked, your fingernails grazing the back of his neck. 

“I wanted you then Toji and I still want you now, heaven and hell would have to meet on this earth to get me to stop loving you…” Your words were barely above a whisper, making sure they were for him and only him. Toji’s lips began to move against your neck and his hand tugged your head back by your hair, giving him more room to mark you. 

“Toji, plea-“ You whined breathlessly, eyebrows furrowing together as everything inside you became bubbly and grew more sensitive with every touch. 

“Have you ever thought about…” His lips paused against your neck, his grip on you tightening before he let up, “Fuck it, nevermind.” He shut himself down before he could even finish his thought. You nudged his head out from where it was hiding on your shoulder and forced him to look at you. You always found it funny that you held such a threatening man like putty in your hands.

“No… say it, tell me please,” you rested your hands on either side of his face, letting him know it was okay, you gleamed up at him as the flashes of the television reflected in your eyes, his heart swelled at the sight of you. Toji broke his eye contact with you, anxious of how you’d respond to his question. Toji was anxious. And you could feel it. And then his jaw clenched before his grip on you tightened once again, even now he couldn’t let the fortress that he hid inside break. 

“Have you ever thought about… having another kid?” His eyes were dark, and a grin almost devious teased the corners of his mouth, and all of a sudden you felt how you did two years ago. And the Toji you fell for was standing there and he was so close to you and you were in his arms. He was teasing you like you were helpless teenagers in love. And though you loved Megumi so deeply- he was safe with the nanny at home… and you and Toji were just you and Toji again. You wanted him as fiercely as you did two years ago, and you wanted him to make love to you the way he did two years ago. Everything had been so gentle since you two were last here, and you watched Toji grow into an amazing father. You understood that he treated you like glass because he didn’t want to lose you like he has everyone else. And he was so good to you. But fuck, he was too good sometimes and you wanted that asshole back. 

You pushed yourself into his chest and nudged his face in your direction with your nose, smiling softly as you watched a storm brew in his eyes alone. Your breasts nearly spilled out of the neckline of your dress as you pressed your chest to his. You felt him tense as you licked your way up from his neck to his ear, placing a kiss on the sensitive skin behind it. 

“Toji… I think about it everyday,” you whispered, his grip around your waist tightened as he exhaled sharply, as if he was holding himself back. 

“Do you think about a boy or girl?” He teased, beginning to trace his fingers on your thighs just below the hem of your dress. Your body instinctually moved into his, your words caught in your throat and your eyes lost in his. Toji smirked down at you, watching the way you curled around his finger so easily.

“Hey,” he snapped, taking your chin in a firm hold, “What did I ask you, princess? Stay with me.” 

His other hand that remained just underneath your ass rose a few inches to give it a taught squeeze. He chuckled softly watching you twitch at the sensation. With your chin still in his hand he snapped your face to the left, pressing his nose against your cheek and inhaling deeply, before placing a hard, sloppy kiss to it.

“Tell me.” He pushed your face back so it was an inch away from his, “Do you want me to give you a boy or a girl?” 

The stench of lust stained the walls, the carpets, the bedsheets, your clothes… it stuck to everything. This fucking room made the two of you feral. Toji had you melting in his hands and you wanted him to mold you to fit perfectly to him. Your hands traced down to his chest, feeling the muscles that pulled underneath his fitted black shirt. You took handfuls of the fabric into your fists as you smashed your lips to his, and he reciprocated immediately, like he was a robot built to respond to your commands. His hands flew everywhere, feeling every inch of you. They traced your thighs, slipped under your dress and up your spine, they traced the curves of your breasts and trailed up your neck, before stopping at the back of your head, bringing your face impossibly closer to his. He wanted you to mix together like a forbidden cocktail, whiskey and vodka, dark and light, never to be put together but when they are, they can be deadly. 

You pushed from his unforgiving hold, to look up at him, the two of you breathing heavily, gasping for air like all that was left in the room was sucked out of it. You stumbled backwards as he watched you quizzically, wondering why the fuck you weren’t glued to him right now. You wanted him to see you, fully. So you stopped walking backwards until your legs hit the end of the bed. 

Slowly, your fingers toyed with the hem of your dress, your cheeks heating as Toji smirked and crossed his arms. He watched you with a tilted head and his tongue poking at his cheek, in disbelief that you were his. But his smile dropped when you took hold of your dress and inched it up your soft skin, revealing the lace panties you had been wearing. Then you pushed the silk fabric past your belly button, and Toji could only imagine how that stomach would look big and swollen with his child. You stopped there, and slowly dragged your hands around your stomach, before they rested on top of your womb, your eyes never leaving one another. 

“I don’t care about the gender of the baby… as long as it’s our baby and we take care of it together,” you whispered as you fixed your gaze on Toji’s chest, too nervous to look him in the eye. A primitive feeling ignited within him as he witnessed those words leave your mouth. Someone wanted him, not for dirty work, not to be used, but to love him and share a love with him, he never thought himself capable of feeling compassion for another like this in his life. He wanted to claim you in every sense of the word, fill you up, and burn his name onto your heart. 

“You wanna give me a baby?” He growled from across the room, his shadows reached you from six feet away and enveloped your body, the vibrato of his voice shooting straight to your core. The idea of Toji marking you permanently made your insides curl, wet at the thought of it. Your eyes filled with lust and need, begging him to take you right here. He lost all of his senses as he looked at you turning into a needy little thing for him, breasts supple and on display as they heaved up and down. He imagined how they'd swell and fill with milk for his child, his gaze shot up to your lips, wet as you bit and licked at them, stains of the dark lip liner you had put on before you left, remaining on your skin like a ghost. Then they shot to your eyes, nearly tearing up with need, need to be touched and his completely. Something in you shifted when his gaze softened and his stance relaxed. 

“Fuck… I wanna give you a baby Toji.” You whispered as you felt the first tear roll down your cheek, and within seconds Toji was up against you once more, lips molding to yours and his hands tangled in your hair. The weight and force of him pushed you back as you prepared to hit the bed. You took one of his hands from behind your head and placed it on your stomach, pausing from the kiss to look at him, saying all you needed to tell him with the one stare. 

The rubber band inside of him snapped in that moment, he was madly in love with you, and the way you cared for Megumi so tenderly drove him up a wall. Watching you rock him to sleep, cook him breakfast in the morning, dance carelessly around the living room with him in your arms- he wanted to do it all over again with you, and start at the very beginning this time. He nodded frantically and wordlessly as he laid you back on the bed, pulling the heels off your feet as he crawled over you until he’d pushed you to the head of the bed, eyes never leaving yours. His lips met your collar bone, sucking on the skin that peaked beneath the strap of your dress, you wrapped a hand in his hair and pushed him into your chest as you whimpered, desperate for more.

He pulled his lips from your skin, placing a chaste kiss on the fresh bruise he mouthed onto your chest before placing a strong hand on your stomach, the other bringing itself to your head to make you look at him.  

“Fuck, princess… tell me what you want again.” He whispered, pushing down on the soft skin of your stomach and tracing circles around your belly button with his thumb. Something about that movement turned you feral, as Toji hit all the right spots within you with his words. You crashed your lips into his as you growled into his throat, staking your claim on him. Toji was yours, and you wanted to make sure he knew it. 

“M’hm…” You hummed as you rotate your hips into his thighs, “I wanna have your baby,” Toji squeezed your thighs before he pushed the rest of your dress up above your head, nearly panting as he watching your breasts spill out. He took one nipple into his mouth and the other in his hand, your body arching at the sudden change of pace. He sucked and twirled his tongue around the sensitive bud, the other hard and taught between the rough pads of his fingers. You always loved the way Toji could handle you, he was the only man that was ever able to give you exactly what you needed. It had always been that way, just you and him, becoming experts in each other’s bodies, memorizing every curve and trigger that made one another sing. 

He lifted himself up from your breasts so that his face was hovering above yours and your head was trapped between his arms, he looked at you… and for a second you could’ve sworn you saw sadness wash over his face.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you and I'll do it, tonight you have me completely,” Toji whispered, tracing the contours of your face. You hid in his shadows, unsure what to make of that statement. Your breathing was ragged as you searched his face for the cause of the sudden gloom he casted over the bed you two occupied. You reached up to trace the dips of his jaw and cheekbones, back around his head before your fingers lingered over his lips. 

“Toji, what’s wrong?” You asked wearily, “Don’t I have you completely every other night we spend together?” His gaze saddened, and this time it definitely had. You grew incredibly nervous, because despite the fact that you had Toji for two years… deep, deep down, you knew that he was a force that couldn’t be tamed.  

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. He laid his body weight on top of you, caging you into him as if to protect you from an impending doom. 

“And because I can’t lose you…” Your breath hitched in your throat at his next set of words. You couldn’t let him finish. 

“Toji… no.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his back and hugging him into you. 

“I’m sorry, I have to.” He shook in your hold, his hand wrapping around the back of your head and pushing it into his neck as you began to sob. You struggled to escape his grasp, you needed to fucking breathe. 

“Toji… get the fuck off of me.” You bit through tears, but he wouldn’t budge. 

“Let fucking go of me!” You pushed, squirming away when you felt him loosen up. You tripped your way out of the bed and hid yourself in the corner of the room, between the big TV and the bathroom. You sheltered your naked body by crossing your arms over your chest and your sobs became uncontrollable. You burned holes into his back as he knelt on the bed with his hands unfolded in his lap, he stared at them, empty and without you in them. 

“I have to leave-“ He began. 

“Shut up.” You whispered, begging him to stop.

“It’s the only way you and Megumi will be safe.” He pushed. 

“I don’t fucking care-“

“You don’t care about my son?” He screamed into the void of the bedsheets, the palms of his hands digging at his weary eyes. The statement shook you, it clawed at the deepest parts of you and ripped them out. Left you gutted. 

“How f-fucking dare you…” You choked, his back was still turned to you. You looked around the room in frantic disbelief, fists punching at your head. “You can at least turn around… and fucking LOOK AT ME… While you tell me that I don’t care about MY SON!”

You were towering above him now, for once in the years you had known this man the power dynamic had shifted. What was different was that you’d experienced another kind of love, and that love left you with a reflex that would cut anyone that threatened it. Toji had been training you up for this moment, the one where he would finally say he was leaving again, and you’d have to be there for Megumi on your own. 

You shoved at his back and he didn’t budge, so you shoved again, and again he didn’t budge. 

“He’s my son too….” You seethed, “ And I will not let you sit there with your back turned to me…” You continued as you rounded the bed so you were facing him. “Just so you can fucking tell me that I don’t care about him!” 

He kneeled as still as a statue, the silence surrounding him almost sickening. And the more you stared at Toji, the more you wanted to laugh. You were not going to fall for his bullshit game again, because in the two years that you’ve loved him you’ve also learned him. 

“You’re a coward, Toji…” You shot to kill. “If you meant what you said you can look me in the eye and say it again.” 

Knowing he wouldn’t budge, you crawled onto the bed and kneeled beneath him, forcing yourself to look up into his eyes. They looked empty. 

“Go ahead and tell me that I don’t love my son, Toji,” you smirked, eyes wild and alight as they were when Toji first set eyes upon you years ago, when he knew he had to have you. You grabbed his chin and tilted it upwards as you crawled into his lap, straddling him so he had nowhere to go, nothing else to look at but you, nothing else to feel but you. You put your lips to his and growled, nothing but heat laced in your words. 

“Be a man… be a father… and tell me that I don’t love my fucking son.” A tear slipped down his cheek, and you could see mountains move in his eyes and you watched the walls of that fortress crack after two years. His hands fell to your hips, locking you in. 

“I can’t,” he whispered, “I can’t tell you that.” Sorrow held heavy in his gaze, as he tried to kiss you with your lips on his. You wouldn’t let him, pushing his face back into place. 

“Then tell me… why you would lie to me Toji,” you asked softly, your sadness, your embarrassment returning. “Why would you leave me again? Have I not been good enough-“

“No,” he cut you off, “No, never.” 

“Then what is it! Tell me why you’re leaving- again!”  You sobbed, your vision of him blurry now. Your hands wrapped around the back of his head as you pulled his body into your bare chest, feeling the wetness of his cheeks against your breasts. You dropped your head into the crook of his neck and sobbed, “What haven’t I done to make you see how much I love you?” 

“It’s not what you didn’t do,” he resolved, “It’s what you did do.” You shook as his fingers kissed up and down your spine. “You have done everything- I could’ve asked for. I am scared of the way I love you… and I am scared of the way you love me.” He tried to pull your face from his neck but you were the immovable statue this time. 

“Look at me,” He says sternly, forcing you from your hiding spot. He places a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I have never loved someone so much. I can’t stay away from you and I think that’ll be our downfall if I don’t leave now. My plan was never to stay, I was going to leave you with Megumi… but god, you’re like a fucking magnet. Of course I stumbled in after him and when I saw you sitting on that bed with him… my fate with you was set in stone, princess.” 

You were a blubbering baby, your hands holding his face as your thumbs rubbed his cheeks back and forth, like they were trying to memorize every scar and curve. You kissed his cheek as he continued, “It is everything you have made me… that’s the reason I have to leave. My work isn’t safe, once they know how soft I’ve become you will be the first people they target.” 

“Toji, I d-don’t care!” You blurted out, “I don’t care… I can take care of myself, I can take care of Megumi. Teach me then, huh? Teach me to f-fight o-o-or use a gun… please Toji… I need you here.” You weren’t even sure of what you were saying, you were just saying anything to keep him here longer. 

“You are all I have left-“ He pushed. 

“As you are to me!” You bit back. 

“Toji, you are all I have… please… please can we try?”

You practically begged, “What about our baby? Was that all just shit to get me to sleep with you one last time? Hm?” 

“No, of course not!” He shot back, words fiery and filled with passion. 

“So you were gonna what? Toji? Knock me up and leave?” You asked silently, holding your eye contact with him. “Because I really wanted- I really wanted to have that with you.” 

He bit back tears, swallowing deeply as you drilled into him. He just shook his head, if he wanted to keep you in his life he had to do this. He had to let you go. He gently pushed you off of him one last time, wincing when he felt you reach for him, your hand gracing his. 

“N-no Toji… no, please,” you begged, his heart tearing as he walked closer to the door, gathering his things slowly. He jolted when he felt your small body press into his back, hugging him from behind and shaking. It took everything in him to fight the urge to place his hand over yours. But feeling you slide to the floor behind him made him turn around to look at you. He had done it, he had broken you, and for the first time in his life he was disgusted that he had done that to someone. 

“Get up,” he choked. 

You refused. 

“Get. Up!” 

“No.”

“I’m not leaving you on the floor like this-“

“Then don’t fucking leave! You asshole!” You screamed at him wildly, smacking at his legs with weak jabs, the picture of a child throwing a tantrum. 

“If you ever loved me or Megumi you would stay!” You cried, “You would stay… and you would try for us…” 

“You can’t say that-“

“Yes I can because it’s true,” you shot your words at him like bullets leaving a gun, short and quick, one after the other. 

“When I agreed to take Megumi under my care… I said I would do it only if you stayed with me. I said I wasn’t going to let you run away. And if you think for a second that I didn’t mean it then you really are fucking dense Fushiguro.” 

Toji’s mouth quirked at the sound of you using his surname, you haven’t done that for a while. He set his sights on you for a reason all those years ago, he knew you were strong, he knew you were unwavering. He just never thought he’d meet someone as stubborn if not more stubborn than him. That’s why he knew you were the one he was going to leave Megumi with. And even now as he looked down at you he knew he made the right decision. You would chase him into the parking lot naked if he made a run for it and he knew that. No one was better for his family than you. His heart dropped when he felt your hand reach up to his, releasing him from his train of thought. You were beautiful. And he was sorry. And stupid for thinking that this wasn’t going to go over without a fight. He tightened his grip on your hand and knelt down to kiss it. Every knuckle. Every fingertip. And he knelt into your touch when you cradled his face.

You saw him make a swift movement from the corner of your eye, and you couldn’t move fast enough when you felt a piece of heavy metal weigh down your hand. In it Toji had placed a gun, you knew he always carried one but he’d keep it concealed around you. So you’d never actually seen it. To be holding it right now… you didn’t know what to do. You watched him as he moved to kneel behind you, his hand never leaving yours that held the revolver. 

You gasped as he brought an arm around your waist, fixing your posture so you were upright. And he adjusted your arms so the gun was pointing at the door of the motel room. His hands laid loosely over yours and his head rested in the crook of your neck. Your breathing grew heavy when he traced from your hand all the way back to your upper arm, fixing its position and propping it up at a 90 degree angle. 

“It’s like a dance, you see.” He whispered into your ear. 

“If you hold it properly, and give it room to move,” he loosened your grip on the trigger. 

“Not too tight, princess…” You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“It’ll hit all the right steps…” His finger covered yours on the trigger and you felt your heart stop, “and you’ll shoot ‘em dead.” 

“Bang!” Toji mimicked the sound of a gun as you jumped backwards into him and screamed, eyes squeezed shut. But you didn’t feel the reverb of the gun, you didn’t hear anything piercing the wooden door, only the vibration of Toji’s low chuckle in his throat. You turned around to see him propped up on both arms, staring at you in amusement while you stared at him in shock. 

Your hands shook as you examined the gun in your hands, before looking back up at his smiling face. His hands covered yours as he slowly took it out of your grip. 

“What the fuck, Toji?” You whispered, scared as if you’d actually shot something. 

“Safety’s on, sweetheart.” He teased, wrapping an arm around your neck and bringing you into him to place a wet kiss on your mouth. “I’ll let you do the real thing once you start getting good.” 

“What?” You stared at him in disbelief, but he didn’t miss that glimmer of excitement in your eyes. 

“I’ll teach you how to use a gun, I’ll teach you to fight, I’ll teach you whatever you want to know… so we can keep our kid safe.” He whispered, looking down at you with a warm smile on his face. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes…” He whispered, “…I love you.” He added. 

“I love you too,” you almost didn’t believe it. 

“I mean it… I love you.” He repeated, like he could read your mind. But you were still hurt, and angry, and everything bad you could feel you felt. 

“I- prove it to me… that you mean it… I’ve proved myself to you enough tonight Toji… and I won’t stand to be made a fool,” your words bit, and you hope he felt them draw blood. Toji pulled you back into his chest and buried his face in your hair, taking in your scent. 

“You want me to prove it?” He whispered. His hands start to trail up your thighs, his mouth begins to place kisses on your neck. You sighed at his touch, placing your hands over his on your body. 

“Mhm,” you whimpered, leaning into his chest, your body becoming overly sensitive to his movements again. Toji’s hands pushed at your thighs, “Open up for me, princess.” You did as you were told, sliding your feet slowly so they could meet his boots on the carpeted floor, putting your clothed heat on display for him. He continued to draw circles on your thighs, more forcefully now, inching your legs open wider. 

“T-Toji, please,” you choked out, growing impatient. 

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered in your ear, sliding his hand under the waistband of your panties, his cold fingers scorched by your hot skin, “Come on… tell me, pretty girl. Had no problem biting my head off a moment ago.” 

“Fuck you,” you seethed through gritted teeth, trying to amass any pleasure from rutting your hips upwards. 

“Suppose I deserved that,” he chuckled, you could feel his chest shaking against your back. You leaned back into him and swung either of your legs over his highs, opening yourself up wide and demanding he touch you. “Dirty girl, that’s how you got tangled up with me in the first place- were just too damn needy…” His hand slipped under the crotch of your panties and you jerked as he placed his palm flat against you. Toji hissed at the wetness that met his skin, grabbing a handful of the slinky lace into his fist and tearing the cheap fabric off your body, “I’ll have to get you new ones.” 

“Please, Toji, please,” you were practically whimpering, begging for him. Jolting as he slapped your waiting cunt once, catching you off guard as you hissed at him. You placed your hand around his forearm and guided it as he massaged the sting of his strike out. 

“Tell me-“ He began again, letting his fingers slide up and down your folds, collecting all of the wetness before bringing them up to your mouth. You looked up at him behind you and he simply raised a brow, silently suggesting that you knew what to do. You took his hand in yours and dipped your mouth down onto the two fingers he pulled from beneath you, licking and sucking your arousal off of them. 

“Good girl, now tell me…” He pulled his fingers from your mouth and shoved them back down to your weeping heat, this time pushing them in and curling them upwards, holding you in place as your body contracted. 

“T-oji my god!” You gasped at the sudden movement. He shushed you, pressing his lips to your ear as his fingers writhed inside of you, “Shhh… tell me about how you’ve dreamed about giving me another baby,” Toji insisted, a glimmer of that ego shining through as he continued his ministrations, more aggressively this time, beginning to pump two fingers in and out of your cunt. 

“Mph-fuck, Toji please-” His fingers continued, pushing in and out of you, kissing your ear when your head dropped back onto his shoulder.

“Tell me, pretty girl, and I’ll give you more,” he began to speed up, wrapping his spare arm around your torso to hold you flush against him, spreading his thighs further, ensuring that your legs spread with him. You moaned at the action, rutting your hips up into his hand as you gave him what he wanted. 

“I- I’ve dreamed about it since we first bought the house together…” He began to place chaste kisses on your neck, sucking on the supple skin, adding a third finger inside of you. “Fuck… that’s too much To-”

“I think you can take it, how could you have my kids if you can’t even take three of my fingers, princess?” He started to pump slowly, letting you adjust to the size. “Now, go on.”

Your breathing was disorderly, your hands grabbing onto his thighs as you felt yourself swallow the girth of his fingers whole. “Ah- okay… w-we bought the house a-and, I think…” You thought back to the first time you set foot in the house after it was officially yours, you were in love with the Victorian architecture and since you loved it Toji loved it even more. 

“I think watching you paint Megumi’s room that bright blue… seeing you covered in paint… making sure e-everything was perfect for him.” You hadn’t even noticed him speeding up, until he started circling your clit with his thumb and you could’ve sworn you were gonna explode. “Toji- please, I think I’m going to-” 

“Not yet… finish,” he urged and you protested before you felt him land another strike to your clit, “Now.” 

“Oh, my god!” Your eyes crossed when he resumed, your abdomen shaking at the sensation, “W-watching you made me realize t-that… t-that we were going to b-be okay-ah!” The arm around your torso made its way up to your breasts, pinching and twisting at your nipples. “...It made me realize t-that I want to be in this- w-with you…hmph… for a long t-time…” You looked up at him with pursed eyebrows and your mouth agape, finding him already staring at you. His face was warm, your entire being felt warm. And then he sped up, fingers pounding in and out of you, his mouth dropping back down to your neck to litter it with hickies, your legs grew stiff and you frantically jutted up into the palm of his hand. 

“Toji- fuck! Please, please-”

“Tell. Me.” He growled, not letting up on his movements.

“I-I- oh fuck… I realized that I wanted to be with you… f-forever, To-ji. I wanted to h-have more kids w-with you a-and raise a f-amily…” Your eyes held his and you felt your toes curl and your insides turn. His mouth connected with yours, holding your jaw in place, as he growled into your mouth.

“Cum.”

You saw stars as his grip on your jaw tightened, swallowing all of your moans, all of your cries, and drinking them like they were a forbidden elixir. He held your legs open with his, pumping in and out of you relentlessly as he held your shaking body. You felt his length, hard against the small of your back, and you lost it completely when you felt him needily rutting up into you through his black denim. “Fuck Toji! I’m cumming. I’m cumming- ah!” 

You two were a sweaty bundle of bodies, desperately rutting into each other, trying to be impossibly close to one another. You reached an arm around his neck and drew him into a wet kiss, hungrily biting and sucking on his lips, his tongue, any inch of him you could take in. 

“More. Toji, please, I need you more.” You begged when his fingers finally released you. You wanted each other in ways you never had before, this time was… different. This time you two were consummating your own version of a fucked-up marriage. In sickness and health. In life and death. You would have each other completely. You felt how needy he was, the scent of your arousal on his mouth, on his hands, lingering everywhere, it turned him into an animal. You turned to face him and helped him out of his clothes. Peeling the shirt off his sweaty body as he kicked his boots off, licking a stripe up his abdomen with heaving breaths, your eyes never leaving him as you panted for him, need dripping off your tongue. Once you got to his neck, you began to leave bite marks along his collarbone, his jaw, your bare cunt rutting into his crotch, growling at the cotton boxer-briefs that kept skin from skin. Toji’s hands grazed over your body, tracing every curve and valley, letting you devour him, take him, do what you wanted with him. 

“Take these off,” You breathed against his neck, fingers pulling at the waistband of the boxers, he chuckled, grabbing you by the back of the head and forcing your eyes to meet his, “As you wish, mama.” 

Sure, there were partners before Toji, and the sex was fine. But no one had ever made you act the way he made you act. You were a partnership of two antagonists, just prodding and poking at each other to see who could make the other crazier. You were sure that tonight, Toji would win. 

Mama.

You saw stars at the word and he knew it. Toji watched your eyes grow as dark as his in seconds, trailing his every movement as he lifted his hips up and slid his boxers down his legs. You watched his cock smack his stomach, so rock hard it looked like it hurt. You needed him in cynical, territorial ways. As did he to you. 

“If you don’t put a baby in me right now Fushiguro…” His eyes widened at the vulgarness of your demand. He watched you kneel just feet away from him, observed the way your chest was heaving up and down, the locket he gifted you, the one you never took off, moving with it. He noticed the way your breasts looked heavier, nipples puffier. He noticed your arousal dripping down your thigh, he had never seen you so wet. And lastly, he noticed the way your hands guarded your stomach, as if they were guarding your precious womb until he came around to mark it. 

“Get on your back,” he barked, climbing over to you swiftly, not giving you time to follow his directions on your own as he had you laid down against the carpet in seconds. He licked his lips as he watched you draw your bitten lips into your mouth, waiting for him to do something.

“Tonight I am going to fucking worship you,” he growled, smashing his lips to yours, jamming his tongue down your throat and licking you everywhere unholy. His lips trailed down your breasts, your stomach, and he stopped above your thighs, leaving bite marks all the way down. He blew a puff of air onto your sticky heat, before teasing you with a small lick. The second your thighs flew upwards his hands held them down, gripping onto the fat like they were lifesavers. He stuck his tongue in your folds, firmly tracing circles around your clit and following the patterns of your vulva. 

“Toji!” You screamed, almost as if you wanted him to stop. But that couldn’t be further from the truth, you needed him to keep going. One of your hands tangled in his hair as the other held onto his, your body writhing like a fish out of water as he continued to suck and pull at your core, groaning into you every time you rode your hips against his face. 

“I-I can’t, please I’m-” You gasped for air, desperately moving your body up and down with his mouth, riding out the waves of pleasure he was giving you. Your body was still sensitive from  your orgasm just moments ago, you felt like you could burst at any moment. But Toji didn’t stop, he kept blowing air onto your clit, fucking you with his tongue and biting the soft skin around your mound. He reached up to grab hold of one of your breasts, squeezing and pinching as he himself ground into the carpet he laid upon. Your moans and your taste were his jet fuel, and he was getting off to every second of it. You watched his ass flex as he repeated his movements, drawing circles into the carpet with his cock. The sight of him desperately humping nothing sent you over the edge, screaming as you pulled at his hair, your thighs closing around his head.

“TojiohmygodI’mcummingfuck!” Your words came out a sloppy mess, unable to do anything but praise him for being so good to you. He continued to place kisses on your inner thighs until you were done riding out your high, your body finally falling back to the floor. 

“Feel okay?” He asked calmly, rising to his knees as your body occasionally twitched in your post-orgasmic euphoria. He ran his hands up and down your torso, gently massaging once he got down to your pelvic bones, working out the knots and work you had just put in to getting off on his face. He knelt down to kiss you deeply, tenderly this time, inhaling your scent and running his hand over your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. His eyes searching for answers in yours, “I’m sorry,” he uttered, digging his forehead into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry I tried to run away, you don’t deserve that.”

“Toji… I- I love you.” He kissed your forehead, his hand hitching themselves underneath your thighs, watching your eyebrows furrow together while he inched your knees up slowly.

“This comfortable?” He asked you for reassurance again and you nodded, and he pushed a little further, until your knees nearly touched your shoulders, you winced a little at the stretch of it, inhaling and exhaling deeply as he waited for you to adjust. When you open your eyes he’s looking down at you, kissing the insides of your calves and massaging them. 

“It hurts a little?” He asks again gently and you nod. He chuckles quietly as he leans down to kiss you, you inhale sharply as he puts pressure on your legs, stretching your hamstrings even more than intended.

“If I’m gonna put a baby in you, this is the best way, princess.” 

His words ran straight to your core, and you nodded frantically, feeling like a teenager having sex for the first time. So eager to feel him. This time with Toji felt different, call it- fucking with intention. Both of you felt the thickness of the air, you knew how much this meant. He placed a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering against them, “Let me know if you need me to stop.” 

Your eyes nearly crossed at the suggestion of him fucking you so hard you’d need to call it in, you just wanted to feel him already, “Mhm… Toji, please.”

His head dropped to your chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck, gripping him tighter when you felt his tip prop itself at your entrance. He laid his body flat against yours, you screamed at the burning in your legs, folded back against you with the weight of his body, but you wanted more. His arms caged your head in on either side and that was when you felt it. Toji watched the way your face contorted, your mouth dropping and eyes squeezing shut as he filled you at an angle he never had.

“Fuuuck,” he exhaled, inching his length into you further and further. He felt you claw at his back, skin sticking under your fingernails as you groaned with him, two animals fucking to conceive. The most primitive state of the human, fucking to reproduce, to bear offspring, to grow a family. 

“Toji-”

“Yes, princess,” he cut you off, “Oh fuck,” he gasped, bottoming out inside you, before hoisting your waist up to his and slinging your legs over his shoulders.

“T-Toji I’m so full!” You whined, grabbing onto his thighs folded on the floor as he knelt before you, buried deep in your cunt. 

“I know, baby, I know… be good and let me put a baby in you, okay?” He asked, placing kisses to your calves once again. You panted, nodding up at him while he made his first move. You groaned as he pulled himself out, before splitting you back open and bottoming out once again, “Fuck Toji, I need-” 

You felt it snap inside you again, whatever it was that made you feral, foaming at the mouth for the feeling of him inside you. “Toji I need you to fuck me…” You ground your hips into his, grasping at anything to give you leverage on his length. He looked down at you wearily, always so delicate, so fragile, “I don’t know if I should-”

“Fuck, Toji! Stop treating me like I’m glass and fuck me!” His eyes grew dark at your words, but still a glint of remorse held him back. You smacked at his chest, then looked down to remember that he was balls deep inside you, he seemed to remember at the same time because his stare turned wicked, “Look at me, Toji... I need you to fuck me baby.” 

You felt him begin to pick up his pace, slowly but surely rutting into you, fucking you deeper and deeper with every thrust. “F-uck, Toji!” Your mouth dropped as you watched a string of spit leave his mouth and drip on to where his cock and your cunt met, you gasped for air when he reached down to spread it around, lubing you up and preparing to go deeper, “T-oji, TojiTojiTojiii, please baby.”

“Yes, pretty girl. Fuck yes.” He gritted through his teeth, groaning at the way your tits bounced with every thrust, he reached out and cupped one in his hand, “Fuck, your tits are gonna be so full in a few months…” Your eyes rolled back at the way he groped it, playing with your nipple. Then your eyes fell to where you two connected and his gaze followed, the two of you watching Toji reappear and disappear inside of you, your wetness covering his cock, and his arousal being shoveled deeper and deeper inside of you.

You squealed as he thrusted harder, laying on top of you and rutting down into your heat. “Go ahead and touch yourself for me,” Toji instructed, and so you did. And a familiar feeling began to bubble up in your stomach, and for the third time that night Toji would ruin you. 

“Toji, please oh fuck-” He brought a hand up to your sweaty forehead, blowing air on it to cool you down, he then took your hand and placed it on your stomach, smirking as your eyes widened at what you felt.

“Feel that? Feel me inside of you?” He whispered, kissing you swiftly, feeling himself come close. You were a mess of moans and whines and you couldn’t even begin to explain the things that Toji was making you feel.

“Y-yes… yesyesyesdaddyIfeelit!” You cried as you circled your clit faster and pulled him closer, “Fuck yes! Right there baby, fuck me right there!” 

Toji growled, his hands now clawing at your thighs, the picture of two animals fucking wildly. Something sent him tipping past sanity as he pushed your legs all the way back, your ass up in the air as he thrusted down into you.

“Call me that again…” He seethed, grinning cynically at the way your eyes glazed over, his hand wrapped itself around your throat, enough to let you breathe. The sensation was overbearing, you started writhing underneath him, squirming and twitching while he kept his pace.

“F-uck,” you choked out, cracking what smile you could with Toji’s hand restricting you, “I want you to fill me up, Daddy.” Toji saw red, and blue, and every color that you helped him see in the past two years, and he fucked them all back into you. He kissed you with tenacity, lips tangled with lips and limbs tangled with limbs.

“I’m close,” he seethed.

“Me too,” you whispered.

“Boy or girl, tell me and I’ll fill you,” he whispered against your lips, saliva, snot and sweat mixing as you two breathed heavily into each other's mouths. Toji’s neck turned red the longer he held in his orgasm, the veins of his arms popping as he held you tightly, maneuvering you so you were in the perfect position to receive him. 

“I told you I don’t care,” you whispered back, feeling yourself close to the brink, tears forming in your eyes, “I told you I d-don’t care as long as I raise them with you.”

He smiled, “Pick a wild card.”

You smiled back.

“Girl,” you whispered. With your arms holding him closely against you, Toji began to writhe, his abdomen jerking in and out as he tried to control the strength of his orgasm.

“Fuck!” He screamed, fucking his seed into you, filling you up with himself. You pulled his face to yours and kissed him tenderly while you felt yourself clench around his length, milking him and riding out another orgasm of your own. 

“Yes,Toji! Yesyesyes!” You wrapped your legs around his torso and held him there, feeling his body twitch as he continued to shoot loads of himself into you. Your body shook as you took everything he had to give you, placing your hands atop his as he held your legs back, the two of you watching him push every drop that fell out back in. 

To think that you and Toji would end up here, there was a time when he was nothing but a fuck buddy to you, and you to him, now you desired something so intimate, so binding to his being. You couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly in his arms, and with that he looked down at you, smiling. Toji admittedly never smiled a lot before he met you, but as he looked down at you, he couldn’t be happier to smile in your presence. 

“Do you think we… got it?” You asked him, out of breath.

He raised his eyebrows, “You would doubt my work?” You smacked his chest and pushed him off of you, attempting to stand up but finding yourself weak in the knees. Toji approached you from behind and lifted you up slowly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him.

“I think we should try the bed out next,” he whispered, “See if it’s still any good?” 

You looked up at him in disbelief, “You want to do that again?” 

“You don’t?” He smirked.

“Well I-” You thought for a second while you melted into his hold, “I don’t not want to do that again.” He emitted a dark sound, while kissing the top of your head, and leading you step by step over to the old mattress. 

“Remember the first time we had sex here? I think I tied you to the headboard,” he suggested casually. Your hands tensed around his before you spun yourself around to face him, wanting to smack him, grin and all. He pushed himself into you and grabbed handfuls of your ass, lifting you up into him and taking in the sight.

“For old times sake, princess,” he persisted. Your tongue pushed at the inside of your cheek as you considered the idea. You supposed mother’s had to have fun too.

“...Just this once, asshole.”

“God, I love it when you call me that.”

© 2023 mitsery - do not repost my work to any other platforms

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

A Dream From Another Universe

Pairing: Itachi x f!Reader

Summary: Itachi from the canon universe has a dream, about how things could've been if other things were different.

W/c: 1.9k

Warnings: Swearing? Lil touch of angst? Nm.

A/n: given kakashi and itachi tied and won that lil vote i did, here's this! anyway, lmk how y'all feel, it's supposed to be bittersweet.

Masterlist💿

And, suddenly, it was the early evening.

Dark oak furniture was scattered around the living room, accompanied by a mix-matched variety of sitting pieces. A purple, crushed velvet arm chair sat on one side, while a pink-green-and-white recliner resided on the other. They framed a plaid couch that faced a roaring fire. From somewhere in the room, probably from one of the overflowing bookshelves, a sickly soft piano melody drifted through the air; such a vivid sound, Itachi could nearly see the soundwaves as they came.

He didn't question the homely scene; simply, he enjoyed the warmth, and thanked every star he knew the name of.

Nightmares tortured Itachi, too horrifying and heart-wrenching for the true level of the feelings to ever be conveyed by any verbiage. They carried on to his waking hours - though his world had become a blur, the memories came back clear as day. Itachi deserved it, every terrible feeling, and he knew it well.

But, this was not a nightmare.

And Itachi hoped to imprint this scene into his mind - even if it was only a hazy dream, and he had never seen that furniture nor heard that music before in his life.

However, he wasn't entirely sure he deserved... this.

Especially when your fuzzy figure materialized in the middle of the plaid couch, your head tucked down. Glistening in the firelight's reflection, your hair curtained your face, a little longer than Itachi remembered it to have been.

His heart stuttered within his chest, clenching with the force of a thousand lonely nights.

Just as he began to begrudge you for hiding your face from him, your head turned so casually, but with such a remarkable grace that this was surely you.

"Come 'ere, Itachi," you purred, your voice just as melodic as he remembered.

Hearing his name from your lips brought him to life within the dream.

Without speaking, he swept over to you, making long strides across the foreign living room. As he moved, he drank in every feature of yours, the features that made his heart pound, those that he hadn't seen in years, but could never, ever, forget.

Stars above, you were beautiful.

So, very beautiful.

He sat on the couch, taking the cushion to your right, still silent, while a deep frown carved onto his face. You let Itachi stare at you, doing so with such a gentle smile.

As he looked into your eyes, he noticed every star he had longed to see, within them, twinkling with adoration.

Itachi's heart ached within it's prison. How badly he missed making you smile, how awfully he yearned to watch the glimmer in your eye. The slopes of your cheeks were so perfectly defined by the firelight, while it also smoothed your skin to a marble texture. You resembled a statue, a carving; something that an artist poured hundreds of hours into to render entirely perfect.

"What's the matter, sweet boy?" You chuckled after an unknown amount of time had passed.

That... cripes, Itachi felt like he could cry. He would do anything just to hear that little pet name on his conscious ear.

What a fool, Itachi was. He claimed to hate that name, way back when; but, now, he was dreaming about those words. A strange brand of self-hatred came over him, tinged with guilt. Why could he not have made more time for you? Why-

"I-ta-chi," you enunciated in a sing-song voice, bringing Itachi's eyes to your lips. "Talk to me - you seem totally spaced."

"I'm okay," he whispered. "Don't worry about me."

You shook your head and reached over your lap, grabbing the bookmark that rested on the coffee table. As you slotted it between your pages, you chuckled, "I always worry about you, my sweet, sweet boy."

Were you dreaming about him? Was that why he was having this dream?

No, Itachi thought. That sounded too hopeful. 

Besides, this could still turn into a nightmare, the other shoe could still drop.

"Are you... is it happening again?" You asked with a certain compassion in your cadence that made Itachi's shoulders relax.

He shook his head, "Is what happening again?"

With a slight huff, you heaved the book onto the coffee table, then turned yourself to face Itachi fully, crossing your legs on the couch.

"Which nocturne is playing, right now?"

The question caught him off guard.

Hesitantly, he shrugged, "The... third... nocturne?"

You sighed, and he knew he answered wrong, "What about yesterday? Do you remember what we did?"

"No," he answered honestly, but so very intrigued. "What did we do yesterday?"

"Well," you started with a smile. "You won three tickets for a baseball game, so you, Shisui, and Sasuke went to the ballpark, yesterday." As you drew breath, Itachi's lips quirked. "You hell-raisers came back here, post-game, and I made dinner. A nice okonomiyaki for everyone."

"Oh, yeah?" Itachi murmured, no edge in his voice at all, just sheer tantalization.

You grinned, capturing his eyes with yours, full of stars, "Yeah."

"Then, what happened?" Itachi asked, though he didn't even recognize the gentleness in his tone.

"Then, we played a few rounds of dice," you laughed lightly, shaking your head as if you couldn't believe Itachi was having you revise the night. "I stole the pot twice, and Shisui declared that I was cheating. I wasn't, of course, but I dropped out and came over here, anyway, until the boys left. After that-" You shrugged, "-we shared a nightcap, before we got nice and cuddled-up for the night."

Fuck, this really was a dream.

Itachi was left to merely wonder how his mind could possibly conjure up something so...

"That sounds..." He searched for the word, but the one he wished for didn't exist. Shaking his head with a small smile, Itachi sighed, "Perfect."

"I bet," you mumbled, looking over his face carefully, your gaze as light as a feather. "I think my Itachi and I have the best lives of any of us, and that's why this always happens to him. Do you speak to your me?"

What?

"I beg your pardon?" Itachi said, voice confused and almost child-like as his brain fizzed.

You just smiled, and simply told him, "It's like a gift, to you, I suppose... Sometimes, when my Itachi gets too tired, too stressed, too whatever, one of you comes to me. You, like, switch places."

Okay, now his brain was really starting to lose the plot of the dream. It was going so well-

"I'll have you, for a little while," you went on. "And you'll have me, for a little while. It's like the stars are giving you a taste of the good life - one of you called it a reprieve, I think."

"I'm sorry," Itachi huffed, a short laugh in his breath. He shook his head, "I really don't understand."

"That's quite alright, sweetheart, you don't need to. All you need to know is that I love you, and your me loves you - and an infinite number of other versions of us love each other, too."

Perhaps untrue, hopefully not - Itachi was just happy to hear you speak, and to hear such foreign words of adoration.

You grinned peacefully, "So, what do you think?"

"Think about what?" He asked.

Motioning around the living room, you laughed, "What do you think of our place? What do you think of me? How does all of this compare to you and your Y/n?"

"I think you have a lovely home," Itachi started slowly, looking around the room. "And I think... you are lovely." His eyes returned to yours and Itachi couldn't help but smile as he said, "But I can't bring myself to compare our situations."

"Probably for the best," you sighed contentedly. Then, looking at Itachi with a cocked brow, you asked, "What do you want to do, Itachi?"

A hundred- no, a thousand things flitted through his mind.

What did he want to do? With you, anything.

"I- I don't..." Fool, this is a golden opportunity. "I just... I want to hear you speak, that's all."

"What do you want me to speak about?"

"Tell me about us, about our lives, together."

"Well, tomorrow, we're..."

It was spectacular.

Itachi was amazed.

He doubted the overall verity of the situation, as one should - but, there was no doubt in his mind that this was the most splendid gift he had ever received. If there were other universes, with other Itachi's and other Y/n's, he was glad that at least some of them seemed to be living the way he wished. Not everything in every universe could be a bowl of peaches and cream, but it was a real motherfucker that this Itachi had to go through the muck and back, and to still be one of the ones who lost you along the way.

For what felt like both six hours, and six minutes, you verbally illustrated the grand adventures the two of you had gone on, and about the adventures you had planned.

It truly was everything he had dreamed about, and a strange jealousy had crept it's way up Itachi's neck.

"And, guess what," you prompted, legs stretched out over Itachi's lap as you spoke on and on.

"What?" He acquiesced, his fingers lightly drawing obscure shapes on the thin skin of your shin, letting his eyes trace every line in your smile.

With an extension of your left hand, Itachi ripped his eyes away from your face to see a rather large, diamond ring on your fourth finger. It glimmered and shone, seemingly polished to the exact standard of blinding reflection. Upon your hand, the ring almost seemed heavy, and numbers started flying through Itachi's mind as he assessed the piece of jewelry, pondering the monetary and karat worth of the rock alone.

"We're getting married in the Autumn," you told him as he gently took your hand in his to get an even closer look at the ring. "You proposed here, at home - then, we went on a proposal tour."

Allowing himself to laugh lightly, Itachi repeated, "Proposal tour?"

"Yeah," you beamed. "We went around to our favourite places and you proposed to me again and again. We got a bunch of free desserts out of it, and a lots of our favourite shopkeepers are regularly giving us discounts, now."

"Who thought that up?" He asked, letting the lopsided smile rest on his face.

Taking your hand back, you motioned to yourself from head to toe and claimed, "Yours truly."

Itachi laughed again, though the vibrations almost felt as foreign as this living room. You smiled, eyes dancing around his face like he was the one who possessed a priceless beauty. The two of you stayed like that for a little while, yet - merely staring at each other, with gentle grins plastered on both of your faces.

Until...

"You have to wake up, now, Itachi," you hummed, sitting up properly as you looked at him with such a gorgeous, bittersweet smile. He never wanted to forget your smile, nor the way your lips wrapped around his name so softly, again, "Itachi."

"Why?" He asked, forlorn.

Meekly, you giggled and told him, "I miss my Itachi."

"I don't want to leave you," he said, almost petulant, but with a candied voice, thick with a heavy array of emotion. "I don't... I don't even see my Y/n, I just... I miss her."

You chuckled warmly, "I wish you had more time with her, sweet boy."

"Me too," he murmured in defeat. "I love you."

"I'm sure I love you, too."

Before he could offer any further farewell, his vision went white, then suddenly black.

He could smell a wet metallic tinge in the air, and he sighed quietly as he laid in the cave, not wanting to open his eyes, for fear of losing the image of you that was seared into the insides of his eyelids.

Itachi missed you terribly.

[flurry-of-stars]

𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓈𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌 𝐻𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓈-𝕴𝕴𝕴

⋆｡°✩𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓵𝔂⋆｡°✩ 𝕺𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖛𝖎𝖊𝖜 - 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝕴𝕴

⋆｡°✩𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕴𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖝 ⋆｡°✩

Fluff 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 ⚠️ Nightmare, panic attack. 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 6k

✩ A familiar melody surrounds him as his eyes open slowly. He groans a little, feeling quite groggy as he listens to the soft drumming of rain pouring upon the roof. Slowly, he sits up. His hands press into the soft cushions of the window seat as he sits back, oversized fluffy ushanka dropping from his head. He looks ahead towards the glowing fire that crackles nearby in the confines of the fireplace. To his side, he feels a tiny body vibrating against his leg. His gaze flickers to the tiny black kitten at his side. He curls against his thigh, purring loudly in his sleep. He chuckles, but no sound comes out. His hands caress the kitten’s velvet soft fur as a voice gently calls out to him, “You’re awake....”

His heart twists as he hears that gentle voice. His heart throbs and twists in pain as he looks up. Someone is sitting by the piano, a veil of silk black across their face. Despite the crackling fire behind them, the figure is shrouded in complete darkness. He can't make out a single detail about them. Their fingers move elegantly across each pristine key as if dancing, playing a soft melody. He would recognise that melody anywhere. He knew it better than he knew the back of his hand. Better than he knew the depths of his soul. He rises from the seat, the warm blanket covering him slipping onto the floor, his footsteps silent on the carpeted floor as he approaches the person, watching as their fingers glide across the keys. The closer he gets to them, the deeper the melody seems to grow. The slower their fingers move. From the corner of his eye, he notices the glow of the fireplace slowly dying, fading. The fire sizzles loudly, its embers slowly fizzling out as his pale hand reaches out, grabbing them by the shoulder as the world is drowned in darkness. The figure turns slowly as the last embers of the flame die out.

A breath catches in Fyodor's throat, a heavy weigh forming in his heart, his stomach lurching as he takes one, two steps back when suddenly....

A loud buzzing jolts Fyodor free from the claws of his mind, sending him flying upright so fast and suddenly, the old tabby cat mewls, lunging off his desk in startled surprise. Blood throbs and pounds in his ears. He’s vaguely aware of his heart thundering, beating and fluttering like the wings of a desperate bird trying to escape the jaws of a predator. His hands convulse as his stomach churns like waves during a storm. His throat feels like it’s being crushed by an invisible force, causing choked sounds to escape his lips. His mouth feels bone dry and he swears he can still smell blood and decaying flesh as tears sting the corners of his eyes. He struggles for a moment to breathe normally. It almost feels like his ribcage is closing in on itself like the maws of a beast, squeezing his lungs, crushing them. There’s another loud buzz that startles him a second time. He looks up, remembering that he had gone to his room to finish working on the draft of his latest chapter, his recently written pages scattered at his feet and across his cluttered desk. He lifts a trembling hand, running it through his hair, pulling it back to find it sleek with sweat. He closes his eyes, taking a few shaky, heavy breaths to steady himself.

Another nightmare. That makes eight in almost three weeks. He needs to ground himself. He needs to get control back. Breathe…in… ….Out… You’re safe…it was just a dream… ...Out... …In… He swallows roughly after a few minutes, standing up on trembling legs. He would gather his fallen papers later. Tolstoy gives an annoyed mewl, his tail lashing as he glares at Fyodor. Despite the feline's irritation, he's staying near to Fyodor. A small, weak smile tugs the corner of Fyodor’s lips as he looks at the old feline, his voice faintly trembling. “I’m sorry, old friend. I did not mean to startle you.” The tabby mewls, stepping closer to Fyodor; he twirls between his legs, nuzzling his ankles. It was comforting. Soothing. His rumbling purrs help him shake off the last remaining fragments of that horrific nightmare. Slowly, the shaking stops and Fyodor’s mind clears, despite the heavy feeling in his entire body. The bedroom is entirely dark. The candle positioned on his desk had melted and extinguished itself, leaving a hardened pile of wax behind. He reminds himself to tidy later as he pulls his curtains open, letting in faint rays of sunlight. His ushanka is on the ground, likely having fallen off when he laid his weary head down. He reaches down to pick it up when he hears that deep rumbling again.

His deep eyes flick towards his phone as it rumbles aggressively on the old mahogany desk. He grabs it before realizing it's just the alarm he set just in case he did pass out. With a sigh, he switches it off, his hands still faintly trembling. His gaze turns towards a photo frame propped up on the corner of his desk, sheltered by many old books. He needed to get some fresh air and clear his head. ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵

You stare at the intricate door, eyes transfixed on it as if it would hold the secrets of the universe. Ever since you first saw it, you were unable to get it out of your mind. You had wondered if it was Fyodor’s room until he had gone to the room near the kitchen to work on his draft an hour ago. Or maybe a study? But if that was the case, why did he act like it didn’t exist? He’d never spared it a glance. When he sat to play his cello, his gaze never drifted to it. When he sat on the same window seat you’re sitting on now, he never looked at it. You hum, tapping your ballpoint pen to your chin. Your gaze drifts towards the archway. You could take a quick peek. It wouldn't hurt, right? It would be just a small look, and he would never know! You're just about to get up when suddenly, a dark furry ball leaps up from under the fold-out table in front of you, causing you to cry out in surprise. "Tolstoy! You scared me!" As you place a hand over your fluttering heart, the feline gives you a side-eye and lets out a rough meow as he begins grooming his paws. You glare at him and mutter, "Did you do that on purpose? I bet Mr. Dostoyevsky sent you here to scare me, didn't he?" You reach out and run your hand through his soft fur. He purrs and nuzzles your palm. "You little devil." "Are you so lonely that you had to resort to talking to the cat, Огонёк?" Fyodor returns to the room, adjusting his ushanka. You jolt and look up quickly to see the teasing glimmer in the Russian’s tired eyes.

"I was only gone for an hour. My goodness, I did not realize you were such a lonely soul," he continues to tease. 

“He scared me!” You insist, the thought 'like owner, like pet' crosses your mind as you keep looking between the tabby cat and Fyodor. As you huff, you decide to return his teasing, "I thought you had sent him to make sure I was still working. Like a little secret agent."

He blinks a few times, giving you a curious look. Then, much to your surprise, a small chuckle escapes him, “Even if Tolstoy could understand me, he is still a cat. I highly doubt he would do anything I ask of him.” As if sensing he’s being spoken of, Tolstoy gives a loud mew, leaping down and sauntering over to Fyodor.

He headbutts his leg as you raise a brow at Fyodor, as if saying ‘see?’ He chuckles once more as he reaches out, grabbing his cloak off the coat rack. You blink in surprise. “What are you doing, Mr. Dostoyevsky? Where are you going?”

“Winter is on the way,” he replies, adjusting the warm fur of his cloak around his neck, the dark fabric rustling around his shoulders. “I wish to go for a walk before it becomes too cold to do so.”

You hum, tapping the end of your ballpoint pen on the fold-out table. Then, you slide out from behind it, tucking your pen into your pocket, “I’ll come with you.” He turns to face you, deep eyes filled with curiosity. “I could do with some fresh air.” He’s quiet as you grab your burnt orange coat from the rack, pulling it over your new turtleneck sweater and black pants. You hear a quiet exhale from him as he nods, “Very well then.” You smile happily as you kneel, adjusting the laces of your boots before you hurry after Fyodor. You eye him as he checks his pocket, presumably for his keys. It’s been a few days since you began cooking for him, or rather since you both began cooking together. He seems to have a little more energy to him now but you could tell he still wasn’t at 100%.  Far from it. By the looks of him, you suspected he may not be sleeping well still. You can still see exhaustion written all over his face. That was troubling. You purse your lips. You could ask him about it during the walk. “Let’s go,” Fyodor says softly, opening the door and allowing you out first. You feel Tolstoy swerve between your legs, shooting off into the open space. You watch the tabby sprint into the woods as Fyodor locks the cottage door, but as you’re about to head towards the familiar cobblestone path, he stops you. “Not that way.” You turn to face him. He nods towards a cluster of trees tucked behind his home. He turns, long cloak billowing in the wind and swaying as he walks. You hurry after him, leaves crunching underfoot as you head for the hidden forest path. As you take your first step into the forest, you are immediately engulfed by darkness and the musty smell of ancient earth. The trees tower above you, like nature's own skyscrapers. On the path, there are occasional spaces overhead where sunlight filters through the thick canopy, illuminating your path. You hear the rustling of leaves and ferns as you walk, but you don’t feel the cool breeze that disturbs them. You walk alongside Fyodor. He inhales deeply as if trying to commit these sights and sounds to memory. His voice finally breaks the silence.

“I prefer to take this path for my walks,” he informs you as a few sparrows fly almost directly overhead. You squeak a little in surprise, turning to watch them fly out as he continues to speak, “Olya and Mitya are lovely people but…” He lets the question hang in the air for a few moments. You suspect he’s about to drop it. You take the initiative, “But what?” He stands a little straighter as he hears your voice. He exhales, then, “They remind me too much of things I don’t want to remember.” Before you could pry much further, he changes the subject, “What do you think of them, Огонёк​?” You think of the elderly couple as you walk, the sound of rustling leaves and scurrying wildlife under the brush surrounding you as you reply, “I think they’re lovely people. Friendly...helpful...I never knew my grandparents but if I could choose them, Olya and Mitya would be my first choice.” A hint of amusement fills your voice as you add, “Although I can barely understand Dima when he starts getting excited over something.” Fyodor chuckles, slowing his pace a little as he nods, “Mitya has always been like that ever since I was a boy.” You look up at Fyodor as you walk past a beam of sunlight. The light caresses his tired features for a moment, turning his dark purple eyes a lighter shade. Within, you see a glimmer of warm nostalgia. “I’m surprised he didn’t begin speaking in Russian to you.”

“I thought he did for a moment,” you reply honestly, earning a chuckle from Fyodor. “It felt rude to tell him I didn’t have a single clue what he was saying so I just kept nodding.” He chuckles again. You see his lips turn upwards in an amused grin, “I can assure you, Mitya doesn’t bite. He will not be upset if you tell him what you’ve just told me.” A comfortable silence falls over you both for a while as you head down this secret path. Your shoulders sag as you feel the stress of your daily life melting away for a while. Out here, it’s just you, Fyodor and the beautiful wildlife surrounding you. Up ahead, under another beam of sunlight, you catch sight of a white rabbit. It appears to be washing its face with its cute paws when suddenly, Fyodor speaks up again, “Огонёк, why did you choose this career? I’m sure if you wanted to, you could have pursued a greater knowledge of languages and become a teacher. So why a literary translator?” As you approach, the rabbit catches the sound of your footsteps and quickly disappears into the underbrush like a bolt of white. You stand there watching it vanish under a fern before you speak, "This is just the beginning for me. I don't intend to remain solely as a translator." You clasp your hands together and keep your gaze fixed on the path ahead. "I don't simply want to work as a translator or editor, I desire to assist in every possible way to ensure that books are published successfully. And who knows, perhaps someday I will write a book of my own to be published." You smile slightly as you finally look up at Fyodor, with a determined glint in your eyes.

He gazes down at you silently for a few moments, as if taking all of you in. Then, “You seem quite driven.” His deep eyes seem to glimmer with praise. “That is an admirable trait to have.” “My dad used to tell me that the only time we truly fail is when we give up.” Your eyes harden slightly. Fyodor blinks a few times, as if surprised at the sight. “So I can’t give up on this dream. Nor can I be swayed from this path.” You look straight ahead again, feeling a steely resolve in your heart with each beat. “I won’t give up.” Fyodor is silent beside you for a long while. You feel his eyes on you. After a while, it begins to feel a little eerie. Right as you open your mouth to speak, Fyodor finally says something, “Your determination is truly admirable, Огонёк. You would do well to not lose that quality about yourself.” You swallow softly as you suddenly feel warmth filling your chest, spreading upwards towards your cheeks. It felt nice to be praised like that, especially by Fyodor. His praises were few and far between. Inhaling, you decide to return the question, “What about you? Why did you choose to become a novelist?” You hear a small huff escape Fyodor's lips. It sounds bitter, but still faintly amused," he admits honestly, "This was not the original career path I had in mind for myself. When I was a child, my mother used to make up stories each night when it was time for bed." His cloak sways elegantly with each stride he takes.

As you glance towards Fyodor, you notice his smile has become bitter. However, he continues to speak, "The stories she told were unlike anything I had ever read before. I have encountered many novels and storybooks in my lifetime, but the way she wrote her stories..." His hand moves to his chest, "They were the very reason that I became an author." "That’s really sweet," you remark, warmth in your tone. “Your mother sounds like an amazing woman. I’d love to hear one of her stories someday.” Instantly, you notice his hand twitching over his heart. He turns his head away, hiding his face behind his black hair. A heavy silence fills the air, and you start to wonder if you said something inappropriate, as the silence becomes almost unbearable. A gentle breeze brushes past you both, ruffling the hair from Fyodor’s face, exposing his eyes. You catch the depth of them. The look that screams more than his usual calm, quiet personality. As raven and grey locks cascade across his cheeks, you see the way his eyes narrow faintly.

It seems like there is a scream trapped inside him that he cannot express. Behind his deep purple eyes, there is a man who is screaming internally, trying to communicate through his eyes.

Suddenly, the tension eases and his hair falls back over his eyes as he lets out a soft and strained sound, saying “We're almost there.” Fyodor walks a few steps ahead of you. You try to catch up with him but find it hard to speak. As you look up, you notice a small clearing ahead where sunlight is streaming in from high above. The trees seem to have moved their swaying branches aside, creating a natural skylight. As you enter, you take a moment to survey the area. It appears to be a small and enclosed space, with thick tree trunks tightly packed together, blocking any further progress. It seems to be a dead end. You notice a wooden bench nearby, crafted from one of the trees in the vicinity going by the color of the timber, causing you to question its age. Evergreen grass surrounds the old timber soilders, with mushrooms sprouting around the bench and tree bases like tiny followers. But that doesn’t keep your eye for long.

Fyodor ignores the bench nearby and instead walks directly towards a small garden. The garden appears to be a decent-sized flowerbed that has wheels attached to the bottom of it for mobility.

As you look at the beautiful display of pink flora, the sweet fragrance fills your senses immediately. Carnations, chrysanthemums, lilies, hydrangeas... Did Fyodor grow these himself? They all looked very healthy and goodness, they smell so elegant. Approaching him, you gasp at the sight of the beautiful carnations. He crouches down and inspects the delicate flowers, his deep eyes scanning each leaf and petal carefully. "Did you grow these?" “I assisted in their growth, yes,” he speaks softly, his eyes fixed on the task at hand. "I'm the only one left who can take care of them, so I'm doing my best to keep them alive." He inspects a few more flowers before checking the soil. 

The man nods and hums softly, expressing his satisfaction that everything is in good condition. After that, he slowly rises while dusting his pants off. He then says, "Do you see that bench over there? Mitya carved it out of a fallen tree that was here in these woods." He walks towards the bench and invites you to follow him. As you approach it, you notice that there are words engraved into the wood, although they are too faded to be read now. “Before this bench, there was a swingset here. He also built that when I was no taller than his knee,” Fyodor goes on to explain. He takes a seat, sighing softly as he looks out at the small blossoming garden. You take a seat beside him, listening closely to his story, “When I outgrew it, he replaced it with this bench. I would read here all the time.” He lets out another sigh, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. You blink a few times, observing as his black locks flow away from his face elegantly. He looks serene, with his head tilted towards the sky, the gentle sunlight touching his pale features as he murmurs, "You lose track of time out here, Огонёк. Especially when you have a good book." A gentle breeze passes through the area again, causing the trees to rustle and Fyodor's black hair to sway. You observe his ushanka moving in the wind while feeling your hair being teased by the breeze. He appears so peaceful out here, completely at ease. “I wouldn’t mind coming out here to do translations one of these days,” you reply, shuffling around as you pull your coat tighter to your body. You slip your hands into your pockets in an attempt to keep them warm, “We haven’t sat outside in almost three weeks now. It would be so nice to even just sit by the lake again.” “Winter will be here soon,” Fyodor reminds you, his voice so soft you almost don’t hear him. “It will be too cold to work outside until Spring.” As those words leave his lips, his eyes slowly open, “Ah…that reminds me…” He slowly tilts his head back down, turning his focus over to you. You blink, placing your hands in your lap as he continues. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but there's a writer's convention that takes place in this town every year during the second week of winter. Vivian has requested that I attend this year, with you accompanying me, as it will be the first time I put my name to one of my published works," he said, letting out a sigh.

His eyes narrowed in annoyance for a few moments before softening. “A few old acquaintances will be attending as well. Fellow authors,” he explains, resting his elbow on the back of the bench as to lean his head on his hand, “I understand if it will be too much pressure for you–” "I've always wanted to go!" you blurt out suddenly. Fyodor looks momentarily stunned by your outburst. You had tried to hold back your excitement, but how could you? You intertwine your hands together, feeling your lips tugging up into a wide smile. "My dad went several times over the years, but he was never able to take me. It would be such an honour to go." Fyodor remains silent for a while, but then he lets out a brief chuckle and smiles faintly. "It's nothing too extraordinary. Our main task is going to be listening to novice writers as they pitch their manuscripts to us and giving them advice. Nobody will even recognize me." “I still want to go!” You plead with Fyodor to let you go and scoot closer to him. Fyodor chuckles and playfully ruffles your hair, making you let out a small noise of protest as he smiles at your persistence. "Very well then. I'll let Vivian know that we'll be attending," he says with a sigh as he pulls his hand back. He turns his gaze back up towards the sky, closes his eyes, and mutters, "Even though I'd rather not attend." A small excited sound escapes you, your feet gently swaying in exhilaration. You couldn’t wait! Your first writer’s convention! And you were going to meet some of Fyodor’s acquaintances? You could hardly wait for Winter to arrive now! 

His voice cuts your thoughts before you can begin to imagine who you’ll be meeting in a few short weeks, “Your father…he’s the reason why you’re doing all of this, correct?” Your heart gives one, strong thump in your chest. You lick your lips, chewing on the inside of your cheek as she squirms a little. You weren’t sure you were ready to discuss this topic but now that it was being opened, you supposed you had no choice. You were impressed that the Russian put the pieces together so quickly. It was your fault for handing the puzzle to him half completed, you supposed. “Yes,” you respond softly, your eyes turning downcast towards your fingernails. You begin to pick at them as you continue, your voice hushed. Every drop of excitement and joy seems to have fled from your body all at once as if frightened off. “Growing up, my dad wrote a lot of stories too, like your mother did. He would buy cheap notebooks and write his stories into them. He even drew the illustrations.”

You give a soft, fond giggle as you remember your youth. “He would give characters their own unique voices. He would act scenes out…it was so much fun.”

Your chest flickers with the warm glow of nostalgia as you keep picking at your nails. Fyodor speaks up, keeping his voice at the same volume as your own, “He went to the convention to try and get his books published.” “Yeah,” you reply, your voice growing even softer. You vividly remember the days when you’d come racing home to that one bedroom apartment as a child, grinning from ear to ear in excitement.

When you burst into the apartment, expecting big news only for your father to smile, shrug and say ‘Maybe next year sweetpea.’ “He never did get his books published,” you inform Fyodor, slowly looking up at the Russian. His eyes carefully gaze into the depths of yours as you offer a small smile. “But he went as many times as he could afford to. Everytime, he took a new book. A new story. And everytime–” “--He was turned away.” Fyodor finishes for you, earning another nod from you. He pauses for a few moments. You see the glow of sympathy in his eyes as a sigh drifts off his lips, “That is…unfortunate to hear. I am sure his stories meant a great deal to you.”

“They mean everything to me.” You don’t mean to but your voice is filled with an abundance of emotion.

Genuine raw emotion; the love for these fantastical stories your father used to weave from pen tip just for you. Anger that his beloved creations were deemed ‘unworthy’ as publishing material. Pain that your father never got to achieve his dream just because a few people decided his stories weren’t good enough for the world. You take a deep breath, flashing the novelist an apologetic smile, “Sorry, I got a little ahead of myself there–” “You do not need to apologize,” the Russian quickly interrupts you. You see a glow of understanding in his eyes as he gazes down at you, the fluffy fur of his ushanka swaying faintly in the breeze. “I understand completely.” “If my mother’s stories were ever labelled as undeserving of publication, I would be just as, if not even more upset than you are.” You see his hand move back over his heart, his hand clenching into a tight fist. His eyes stare into yours, as if he’s trying to speak to the depths of your soul. It’s as though he wants to make sure you remember these words, “Your feelings are completely justifiable.”

You feel a lump forming in your throat, a growing tightness forming there. You take a shaky breath, calming yourself. You don’t need to cry. Not here. Not now. “Thank you…” His lips curl up in a faint smile but he says nothing more as you watch his eyes fall closed once more. As silence descends over you both, you begin to wonder about something, “Hey Mr. Dostoyevsky.” He gives a small hum in response. “Why didn’t you ever put your name to your older novels?” Silence returns for a few moments. The only sound that fills your ears is the sound of rustling trees and the gentle songs of the birds perched somewhere nearby. "Because there was no need for it," he murmurs, keeping his eyes closed as he speaks. "Using a pseudonym was sufficient. I did not desire attention or fame. I did not want the money. But I accomplished what I set out to do.” As the sunlight fades, you ask Fyodor softly, "What do you mean by that? What was your goal?" A large grey cloud covers the sky, and he sighs, opening his deep purple eyes in annoyance. A gentle sigh escapes him as he simply replies. “You’ll know one day,Огонёк.” He lets his eyes close once more, adding quietly, “For now, why not just enjoy the peacefulness of this moment? Before long, we will have to return to work you know.” You sigh. Your curiosity was unsatiated, leaving you disappointed. But Fyodor was right. You should enjoy this break while you have it. Deciding to follow his lead, you close your eyes, listening to the gentle rustling of trees. The distant yips of a fox. The caw of a crow. The fragrance of the flower garden fills your nostrils, making a content sigh escape you. It really was lovely out here. It was a shame you didn’t suggest bringing a picnic with you. You make a mental note to suggest that next time, although you do wonder if Fyodor would be up for the idea. Would there even be time left for a picnic before Winter arrived?

If you waited till Spring, you could get a cute little basket and– You jolt, gasping softly as you’re jostled from your thoughts. You feel something leaning against your shoulder and immediately assume it's Fyodor's hand. However, as you turn your head, you are surprised to come face to face with his fluffy ushanka. You blink a few times as if trying to process the scene before you. Fyodor's ushanka is pressed against your shoulder - the same one he was wearing. You hear faint sounds of breathing coming from him, gentle and quiet. Slowly, you begin to realize that Fyodor has fallen asleep against your shoulder. It seems that there was no need to inquire about the quality of his sleep. You whisper his name, "Mr. Dostoyevsky?", to confirm that he is asleep. He doesn't respond; his head is resting gently against your shoulder, and he continues to breathe softly. You decide against disturbing him. You’d noticed how fatigued and exhausted he’d looked for days, weeks now. You’d thought initially it was just his diet that was lacking, but no improvements to his diet could help a man who was constantly on the brink of exhaustion. You sit quietly, though quite awkwardly, as the novelist sleeps against your shoulder. There wasn’t much you could do here until he woke up and who knew how long that could take? You gaze at the beautiful pink garden as the flowers sway gently in the wind, letting out a wistful sigh. Well, you deserved a break too, didn’t you? ✩

Fyodor let out a deep sigh as he stirs from his restful sleep, the loud call of an owl from the treetops having disturbed his slumber. He shifts softly and raises a hand to rub his aching neck. Besides a few minor aches, he actually felt very refreshed, if a bit cold.

Blinking slowly, he clears his vision as he sat up straight and stretches slightly. It was quite dark, and he wondered how long he had been asleep for. Before he raises to his feet, he pauses, feeling weight pressing against his arm, stopping him. Turning his deep eyes slightly to the side, he frowns as he sees you. Your head is resting against his arm, deep, soft breaths escaping you. You must have fallen asleep waiting for him to wake up. He wonders why you didn’t just wake him up. He appreciates getting the sleep at last but a day of work had been wasted sleeping out here in the forest. Judging by how dark it was, the buses likely had stopped running too, meaning you wouldn’t be getting home tonight. He sighs heavily. You’d have to stay with him. He wasn’t keen on the idea but he wouldn’t let you walk that far home this late at night. There was no other choice. He’s gentle as he slowly tries to rouse you from your slumber, earning a small grunt from you as you try and push his hand away, mumbling, “No…I don’t wanna go to school…” He chuckles softly, his hand squeezing your shoulder as he whispers, “It is time to wake up, Огонёк.” He tries once more to stir you but your whines tug at his heart. He’s almost tempted to not wake you but the temperature outside has dropped since early this afternoon. He didn’t need his translator catching a cold. Especially not when there was an event he knew now you wanted to attend.  He leans in close, whispering into your ear, “Огонёк…come now. You’ll catch your death out here.” You groan. He feels the corners of his lips turning up further as he watches your eyes slowly open. In a gentle, teasing voice he mumbles, “Ah, good morning.” You grumble, raising your hands to rub your eyes. As you yawn and stretch, you groggily reply, “Morning…? It looks more like midnight to me..” He chuckles, reaching down to take your hand as he stands. He knows if he lets you, you’ll go right back to sleep. “Details, details…” Fyodor is slow and careful as he helps you stand. He keeps a hold of your hand, moving slowly as he guides you back down the same path as earlier, now without the assistance of the sun to guide the path. But Fyodor knows this path well. Walking it in pitch blackness is no different than in broad daylight to him. He feels your hand squeeze his as you walk, encouraging him to pull you a little closer. He can still hear your soft yawns and your shuffling footsteps as leaves and twigs crunch beneath your boots behind him. He pulls you closer still, almost pressing your body against his. He doesn't want you to slip and get hurt, the thought of which sends an icy chill down his spine. Fortunately, he manages to guide you out of the secret forest path within a few minutes, relieving both his nerves and your tired body.

“We’re almost there,” he informs you, his tone soft. He reaches for his keys, “Just a few more minutes.” He hears the tired grunt you respond with as he slides his key into the door, unlocking it with a gentle click right as he feels your head falling on his shoulder. With an amused huff, he carefully pushes the door open before scooping you up into his arms. Stepping into his silent cottage, he leaves the door slightly ajar as he carries your exhausted body towards his bedroom.

It would be cruel to force you to sleep on the cramped window seat. Besides, after that rest he finally manages to take, Fyodor's mind is buzzing with new ideas for the next few chapters of his novel. He plans to make the most of the night to make up for the lack of productivity today. But first things first. Fyodor’s bedroom door creaks open eerily. He carries you towards his bed, placing you down on the soft mattress, moving aside a few books before you can squirm and knock them down. He smiles a little as he hears your faint sigh as if relieved to finally be somewhere comfortable and warm. He covers you with the soft, fluffy duvet, adjusting it until he’s satisfied. He watches over you a little longer as he gathers his fallen draft papers, just in case you wake up and need something. His deep purple eyes watch over you in the dark. He watches you squirm, getting yourself comfortable for a long night’s rest, even tugging the duvet over your chin and mouth. Then, quietly, he takes his leave, murmuring, “Rest well Огонёк.” 

The door clicks shut quietly.

𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓼 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝕽𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉 ♡ © 𝐹𝓁𝓊𝓇𝓇𝓎𝑜𝒻𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈-��𝟢𝟤𝟦

Next

Dividers: @/saradika

[samsvenni]

𝐦𝐜 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐳

nightbringer!lucifer x gn!mc

prompt: mc is way too smooth with their words

wc: 0.9k || tags: a tad angsty || rated g || not proofread

✏️- idk if this will be a series, but this is a silly lighthearted prompt abt mc being too smooth for their own good :))

There had to be something wrong with you. Were his passive totally not aggressive comments not enough? No matter what came out of his mouth, you remained as you were: unbothered and still.

He didn’t like it at all.

He didn’t like that because of your excessively collected attitude, it made that he was behaving like an immature child in this situation. He called you to his room to discuss an important matter. It could’ve been anything really.

His brothers, Solomon, or issues that he found problems in; specifically your role as their attendant. The velvet cushioned chair felt extremely homey and this room had fond memories. You surveyed the room, noticing that some things were missing from the present.

The Eldest sat in his room and watched as your eyes didn’t loom over… anything?

How bizarre.

“So… What did you call me here for?” You kept your eyes on him steady and the smile on your face was comfy as ever.

He sighed and took out a golden paper out of a folder. You recognized the fancy sigil immediately. It belonged to the Royal Family, meaning whatever was inside was probably a royal request from Diavolo. “I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now, but there’s a wish that Diavolo wants both of us to fulfill.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, ‘oh’ indeed.” Lucifer was a lot more ‘playful’ today. That word had a lot of synonyms when it came to the Eldest such as being petty, the heaps of dry humor, and anything that could’ve passed over your head if you hadn’t known him before. But, thankfully, you did. “Diavolo wants us to ‘get along better’. Such a vague request, don’t you think?”

The Eldest waited for any signs of distress and dissatisfaction on your face from the smallest crinkle on your forehead or even the faintest jaw clench. Yet all he found was a big ole’ smile and a wholehearted chuckle that could put the Sun to shame.

“…What’s funny?” Lucifer resisted the urge to scratch his head. His gloved hands wouldn’t do him justice.

“I just can’t believe I now have an official excuse to hang out with you.” Secretly, you wiped a cold, invisible sweat off your forehead. Why? Because you thought that Diavolo found out about the time travel thingy.

You breathed easy, knowing that you and Solomon could live peacefully for another day though it wouldn’t last with the shannegians the brothers came up with.

The only one not breathing easy was Lucifer. You seriously wanted an excuse to spend more time with him? An unfamiliar pounding sensation swirled in his rib cage like a fish racing in a pond.

“…Hmph. I’m surprised. Why not Mammon and the others? They all would appreciate your company more.” He folded his arms in an attempt to mentally bury the peculiar feeling that hadn’t died down.

“Well, Diavolo did say to get along with you, not them. I wanna spend time with all of you equally,” But you have already. Or rather, you did in the present. “-but if I wanna be truthful, I wanna spend the time with you the most. I know you’re busy, which is why I value our time together more, no matter how limited it is.”

Holy lord, that sounded super cheesy.

Lucifer watched you wordlessly, hiding a smirk from forming on his face. The Avatar of Pride was having too much fun with whatever this was. He didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of seeing him smile, but hearing you admit that you found his company more valuable than his own brothers? The Eldest bit his inner cheek to compose himself. If Solomon were here, you could practically hear him whispering to you that Lucifer was no better than a teen gushing over their crush.

The mental image was adorabl- Oh my god, now you need to compose yourself or else you’d be the one manifesting Solomon’s delusions.

Lucifer eyed you strangely before crossing his arms over his pounding chest, “You’re getting quite bold, Attendant. Is this something new you’re trying out?”

“Is it really bold to say that I value you, Lucifer?”

“Sweet words, Attendant, sweet words. Flattery will get you nowhere, especially with me.” There was so much bite in his words. You were so used to how soft he could be, that you forgot that Lucifer’s words could be grating. It was pointless to dwell on it. Right now, you’re not in the present, you’re in the past. You weren’t Lucifer’s past, nor is he your present. Such a thought would only consume you whole.

This time, you weren’t alone. Instead of journeying the present alone, you had Solomon with you. A funny feeling in your heart rippled and bounced around in your chest - The feeling of hope and gratitude was enough to keep you going. “Alright, if you have nothing more to ask, I’m gonna head out now.”

You stood up and opened the door. Before leaving completely, through the small crack, you flashed a smile and waved goodbye to the eldest. “Take a breather from the paperwork once in a while.” Just like that, you were off to take another heavenly nap back in your dorm.

“…Take care of yourself too.” His words never reached through the dark wooden doors. Despite that, it was a step forward to the feelings that found home and rooted themselves in his heart.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

WYD💬2

Part 1 |

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: A fan makes an offer your can’t refuse.

(based on suggestion he’s been overworking himself for weeks if not months. He knows he needs a break but his work is too important. Maybe what he needs is someone to take care of him so he can focus more on work. from @thezombieprostitute)

Characters: Bucky Barnes

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your stomach writhes like worms in the dirt. You sit in the back of the uber, uneager to be at your destination. The driver asks if it’s a special occasion and you just sort of mutter. You look down at yourself; you’re sure dressed for something special.

It’s plain enough. A classic little black dress. Thick straps and a simple silhouette. Still, it’s tighter than you’re used to. You dressed it up with a slender silver chain that holds a heart charm and a velvet clutch. Your usual cotton and wool pale in comparison.

You watch on the GPS as the car moves closer and closer to the endpoint. You take out your phone and check the messages. You can barely read any of it as your hands jitter.

You’re being stupid. This is dangerous and stupid. You can’t meet a stranger. Even if he did pay you to do so. Even if you really need the money. You should just send it back.

‘Reservation for Barnes. The hostess will seat you.’

He sent that about an hour ago. His anticipation has only been met by your silent dread and dulcet agreement. It’s one thing to post photos online, faceless at that, but to meet a man like this. This is more than just posing and primping for a camera.

You thank the driver as he pulls up to the restaurant. You get out reluctantly and linger along the curb, tipping the uber as an excuse to take your time. You look up at the dusky facade and gulp. The cursive moniker assures you of your displacement. 

You take a breath and cross the broad sidewalk. You dodge out of the way of another couple entering the restaurant. You don’t follow them as you hover outside. There were at least a few decades between the pair; what is this place?

You hug your wrap tight and teeter on your heels as you try to see through the tinted windows. You need to scare yourself out of this. You get one look at this guy and you’re gone. You’re running the other direction. Only then will it really be real. Only then will you get a bit of sense in you. 

“Just in time, doll,” a deep voice crawls up your spine and you gasp as you twist around to face the speaker. 

Your ankle bends dangerously as your heel catches in the pavement. You bat your lashes up at the stranger; it’s him. He’s even more handsome in person. It almost takes your breath away.

“Uh, hi,” you murmur. Your escape is foiled. Your second doubts are crushed in that instant. You don’t have the courage to walk away. If he’d never seen you, you could've easily scurried back to your hole and deleted everything. “Mr. Barnes?”

He laughs. His smile is deadly. He puts his hand on your arm, bold but casual.

“Bucky,” he offers, “come on,” he checks the watch on his other wrist, “we’re late.”

He nudges you towards the door, bringing his hand down to hover along your lower back. You walk forward numbly. You don’t know what else to do but go with it.

He opens the door and ushers you ahead of him. The hostess greets him as ‘Mr. Barnes’ and is prompt to lead you through the dim lounge. A round booth awaits you near the back of the restaurant.

The hostess takes your wrap and you place your clutch on the seat as you settle onto the curved cushion. Bucky sits and orders a bottle of Shiraz. You fight to keep your shoulders up, trying to wilt in the luxury of the place. You’re an assistant librarian, what are you doing here?

He slides to the back of the booth, reaching over to wrap his hand lightly around your wrist. He tugs until you reticently shimmy closer. You keep your eyes on the table, fumbling with the wrapped silverware.

“Nervous,” he says. You nod and still the cutlery. “Me too.”

You’re surprised by his confession. He must do this all the time. He’s rich and handsome and oh, how stupid you really are. Of course you’re just another in the long line. 

You look up at him, flinching as you find him watching you. You wonder if your lipstick is patchy or if you smeared your eye liner again. You bring your hands back into your lap and wring them.

You notice the gray patch among the short stubble along his jaw, a few more strands of silver laced around his temples. His hair is smoothed back but the longer strands threaten to fall forward. He lifts his arm coolly and rests it on the seat behind you. He smells amazing.

“I…” you begin. “I think I made a mistake.”

He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing slightly but otherwise, he does not react.

“How do you know? You haven’t even made the mistake yet,” his hand drifts down to tickle your shoulder, “one glass of wine. How about that? You have one glass before we order, then you can decide.”

“I… I’m not what you think I am,” you utter.

“Doll, you’re exactly what I want,” he winks just before he turns away, another dashing smile sent to the waitress as she arrives with the wine.

One drink. You can do that.

[angelicpoison12]

How about Angel dust x male bisexual reader, Angel is the readers first crush on a guy but he’s scared to confront his feelings. Tooth rotting fluff

YES OMG you got it babes!! I'm so sorry this took so long :,)) I've been kind of in a slump lately lol

— ✃☕︎︎ —

Angel was beyond gorgeous.

i mean, for a guy, he was beautiful. He had that womanly figure, and he just had a voice that was like velvet. you wanted nothing more than to just run your fingers through his fluff, kiss his lips, and fuck, his ass was scrumptious in that skimpy ass little skirt he wore.

but you had to remember that you were a male. you couldn't like Angel, right? it'd be wrong. i mean, maybe if he was in drag, it wouldn't be completely bad-? goddamn, this was confusing. all you wanted was to like the guy without looking like a total homo, okay? was that too much to ask?

you knew that it was a possibility to be bisexual. you'd always found both men and women attractive, but men never really piqued your tastes. you were always into girls, gals, broads, dolls-whatever you called them. but guys? they were okay. they didn't compare to women for you.

Angel changed that.

anytime he was close to you, your heart began doing that stupid pitter patter it did only around cute girls. whenever he patched you up after the battle on extermination day, his hand brushed your thigh, and you got the fattest boner you'd ever had in Hell. when Angel tried to show his concern for you, it only flustered you more, leaving you to care for yourself. you didn't know what was wrong with you or your body. you just blamed it on Angel's hyperfeminine body, and his mannerisms of being an a-grade whore.

there had to be more though. there just had to be. you wouldn't start liking a guy out of the blue, right?

- ✃☕︎︎ -

after a few days of contemplating how to do it, you finally formulated a plan.

you'd come to the painful connection that you had a crush on Angel. you didn't particularly know if you were full-blown in love with Angel, no, but you knew that you liked him at least a little bit.

you knocked on his door, waiting a few seconds before walking in. Angel was sitting at his vanity in the corner of his room, his LED's on as he wiped off his makeup. he was wearing a silk dusty pink robe with feathers at the wrist cuffs, and he had just taken off a fluffy white and pink wig, putting it on a mannequin head he had on the vanity desk.

"hey, i told ya to knock before you come in here," Angel said, turning down his phone that was playing music on his vanity. you swallowed. here goes nothing. "i did," you responded, coming in and closing the door behind yourself. Angel then snickered and said, "well knock louder next time, alright?" he said, wiping off the rest of his makeup before fully turning to face you, asking, "so what's up, sugar? you don't ever come to my room. you musta needed something, and i'm here to tell ya that i'm not in the mood. so i'm sorry toots, but work really kicked my ass," Angel said with a soft chuckle.

you bit your lip, taking a few seconds to talk. "i uh-i didn't come for anything, i just wanted to talk." you said. Angel's brows raised, but he nodded, seeming understanding. "alright, well, whatcha wanna talk about, toots?" Angel asked, standing up to walk to the bed, sitting beside you on the fluffy cushion.

you squirmed nervously, your breathing growing a little labored, your anxiety almost palpable. Angel noticed this and his hand came up, squeezing your shoulder as he said, "hey, hey, it's okay. whatever you wanna tell me can't be bad, eh?" Angel said with a soft smile, trying to lighten the mood.

then you did the unexpected.

you whirled to face Angel, and you hugged him.

a soft, surprised squeak left Angel as you buried your face into his chest. he hesitantly patted your head, not sure what to do in this situation. "you're a cuddly one, ain't cha, toots?" Angel chuckled, his voice full of warmth and more tender than a filet mignon. he laid down, keeping you in his chest as he pulled the blankets around you both. he started to run his fingers through your hair with his upper set of hands, his other hands tenderly rubbing your back.

after about ten minutes of the soft silence, you felt yourself growing sleepy. quietly, you said, ".. Angel.. i think i have a crush on you," you mumbled. Angel's eyes widened when he heard that. he looked down at you and said, "aw, toots... is that what you were so scared of tellin' me?"

you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes, nestling further into his fluff. Angel tenderly wiped your tears, cooing, "don't cry, sugar, don't... shh, shh, it's okay," he said, kissing your forehead, the motion swift enough for a rattlesnake to not catch it.

"why didn't ya tell me you liked me, toots?" Angel asked. you shrugged, but sighed and said, "i was scared.." "scared?" you nodded. Angel then asked, "why would ya be scared, toots? i mean, i didn't scare ya into silence, did i?" he asked, being playful as he nudged you. you couldn't help but laugh at his attempts to make you feel better, but you remained in his fluff. not only was he soft, but he smelled amazing too, like vanilla and roses.

you finally said, "i've just never liked another guy before.. i mean, i'm bisexual, but-uh.. guys just never showed interest in me, so i didn't waste my time experimenting with them. girls always had time for me and wanted me, so i reciprocated." you explained to Angel. he nodded along, continuing to hold you through your explanations as well as your desires. when you finished, he looked at you, and he cupped your face, pulling you out of his fluff.

he kissed you.

his lips were warm and soft against yours, and you couldn't help but close your eyes and sink into the warmth of the kiss. your brain felt like putty, and you could feel your heartbeat in your eardrums. his tongue swiped along your lower lip. you shyly opened your mouth for Angel, allowing your tongues to slide along each other's.

when you both pulled away, your cheeks were red and you were panting. Angel smiled and pecked your lips, nuzzling your nose sweetly as he asked, "still confused on how ya feel, toots?" he asked. you shook your head and wrapped your arms around him, snuggling him as you said, "i've never felt more content with my feelings," you said, your heart fluttering in your chest.

you prayed this would work out, not just for your sake, but for Angel's as well.

[dozydawn]

“My bedcover and cushions are finally ready, I made them for the Index Show. I really like the round one, I used crushed velvet so it’s nice and soft, now all that remains is to make the bed skirt.”

[a-998h]

Hi! You can cult! sagau fatui, where Dottore proposes to Y/n (female reader! creator), that she would marry him? (And how would the harbingers react to this?)

I love your drawing, so cute.

*Note: the other harbingers have now become platonic*

The cults believed that anyone who married the Creator was going to become a God. However, now that you and Dottore have been together for three years, everyone was on edge. Pulcinella was glaring holes into Dottore.

"Hello sir, what do I own the pleasure?" Dottore asked.

"I know what your'e planning, you're just trying to become a god!" The old rooster yelled.

Dottore laughed and rolled his eyes. He can't believe that Pulcinaella believed all those stories and myths about becoming a god by marrying the Creator. Dottore told Pulcinella that he didn't have any dreams of becoming a god and that he just loved you.

Glaring Pulcinella did the "I'm watching you" motion and walked away.

That night, Dottore took you to a nice resturant then to a ballet before you both ended up in the botanical garden. While looking at the flowers, Dottore figeted with a small jewlery box in his hand. The box had a black velvet exterior with a pink cushion inside. Sitting on that cushion was a ring.

The ring was the prefect size for the your ring finger, the band itself was the finest Dragonspine Starsilver, the band was thick with the phrase "My beloved star" on the inside. The center gem was a heart shaped Condessence Crystal. Half of the band was a mix of Clearwater Jade with Noctilucous Jade, while he other half was a mix of Trishirate and a type of Mondstadt crystal. Hehad saved up Mora to afford this ring, and he has gone to Sandrone and Pantalone to figure out what metals, stones, and styles would be best. Once he figured out what he needed to know, he saved Mora to buy the ring for you.

In his other hand, he was holding a bouquet of Glaze Lilles, Calla Lillies, and Sakura Flowers. These flowers all hold special means. Glaze Lillies for ethereal love, Calla Lillies mean new beginning, and Sakura means renewal and optimism.

Now, here under the moon, in this botanical garden, he's going to propose to you. He gets your attention by tapping your shoulder and calling you the nickname he alwayed used, Калла (Kalla).

"Калла, may I ask you something?" Dottore asked.

"Yes, my love?" You asked.

He sits you on the stone bench, and stands in front of you.

"My dear Калла, you're the best thing to ever happen in my life. You love me for me, despite being a powerful God. Now, I know I'm not going to live as long as you, but I want to spend what time I have left with you."

Holding your hand in his right, he smiles.

"Now, I have one question to ask you," Dottores says.

"What is it?" You ask.

He gets on one knee and pulls the ring box, now open, out of his pocket. The ring shines in the soft moon light from the garden skylight.

"Will... Will you marry me?" Dottore ask.

He hopes you'd say yes, he truly wanted to make a life with you. He sees you look at him, his hope starts to die. If you said no, he would be crushed.

"Yes! Yes! Oh yes, Dottre!" You exclaimed.

He pulls the flowers out from behind his back and gives them to you. He then picks you up bridal style and peppers your face with kisses.

You two hope to keep the news private for a week... But that goes out the window.

What you two didn't know, is that Pulcinella tasked other harbingers to spy on the date, including the proposal.

Now, there are harbinger meetings every month. Dottore and you planned to keep the proposal a secret for a month, just in case things don't work out. But of course that will go out the the window soon.

Dottore walks through the doors, and is immediately grabbed by the fur of his jacket but a very old, a very short, and a very angry rooster, a.k.a Pulcinella.

"Sir, you shouldn't be grabbing you your superior," Dottore says, teasingly.

"I don't care! You have no right to marry my granddaughter!" Pulcinella yells, violently shaking Dottore.

"Our granddaughter," Pierro corrects.

Pulcinella makes a remark about absentee grandparents, the focuses back on Dottore.

As this whole mess is going down, the other harbingers are having they're own thoughts.

Pierro is kind of worried, knowing how strange Dottore. He'll worry for your safety now that you two might get married, and he was hoping you'd pick someone immortal. Now, he judges the hell out of the ring. Tries to beat down Dottore about it. Is on your grandpa's side.

Capitono is conflicted. On the one hand, you're gonna be happy with Dottore. On the other hand, it's Dottore the deranged scientist. He will act as a barrier between you two. He doesn't see the function of the ring, but he finds it really nice and a sweet gesture. Is torn between listening to Pulcinella, and making you happy.

Columbia is so happy. She has always shipped you two behind Pulcinella's back. She's happy you at least picked a harbinger. Thinks the ring is beautiful and is thankful for Dottore choosing something nice for you.

Arlecchino is having... mixed emotions. She's a "Father" so romance is touchy for her. You're her adopted niece, and you might marry the person who has committed human experiments and other awful things. She keeps it a secret from Lyne, Lynette, and Freminet, until it's clear you two are stable. For now she'll join you grandpa in judging Dottore's every move, and praying for his downfall.

Scaramouche is clearly expressing his dislike of this whole thing. He hates Dottore, so that fact that you two might get married infuriates him to no end. He will actively try to break you two up. He acts as the attack dog of Arlecchino and Pulcinella for the relationship.

Pantalone is smiling and laughing as the fireworks explode. He knew that Dottore's proposal would cause chaos, which is why he helped him pick the ring. So, now, he is trying to play no sides while knowing full well that he helped make this mess. He is rooting for you two behind peoples back.

La Signora... is very much the protective auntie. She gives you romance advice and also glares at Dottore. She is the only one to give you actual romance advice, while also threatening burn Dottore to a crisp should he break your heart. Is upset that you'll be lonely once Dottore dies as you two get older.

Sandrone smiles and stares at Dottore, but it's not in a friendly manner. She now makes threats against Dottore's safety, in her head. She now has her many robot spys keeping an eye on Dottore, waiting for him to mess up. She'll remind you that, "you can tell me anything dear,"

Childe is over the moon. He's so happy his friend is getting engaged... until he learns who it is. Dottore is a higher rank, so Childe can't do anything physical. He will, however, be the most passive aggressive man in Teyvat. He isn't actually trying to break you two up, he just wants to make Dottore doesn't do anything to you. If Dottore looks like he'll hurt you, Childers will murder him for you.

[dollypopup]

fuck it, gonna do it myself since the showrunners refuse to

Colin Bridgerton Background and Headcanons

+Colin was a chubby child, but became super lanky around his pre-teens, just before he went to Eton

+He would play piano with Francesca for Mum. He always wanted to play and sing for Papa, too, but Edmund was usually with Anthony and Benedict. Still, he and Fran would sit on the shorter velvet cushion so they could reach the pedals, and they would take turns singing silly made up songs, or church hymns

+Because of his age, he was always excluded from the 'Boys' club of the family. At ten years younger than his older brothers, and not an Heir OR the Spare, this is when he started getting particularly close with his sisters, El, Daph, and Fran. He and Daphne were almost inseparable growing up.

+Colin got SEVERAL makeovers from his sisters. They always said he was just as pretty as they were, and powdered him with too much blush, bribing him with extra snacks if he wore one of their dresses. He did, of course. Those Tea Parties were fancy affairs, after all. Once, Eloise tried to braid his hair for it, too, but it was just too short

+Of all his siblings, Colin is the only one Papa ever punished physically. After Colin hit Eloise and Papa saw, he horsewhipped him in the stable. Colin is a boy, soon to be a man, Papa said, he should never lay a hand on a lady, *any* lady. Colin wonders why he cannot hit a lady, but anyone can hit him. It's the start of his hero complex and his martyr streak, too. He does not matter in the scenario, others do. He can get hurt, but others cannot.

+It's not three months after Edmund dies that Colin is sent to Eton. He's the only boy in their entire family to ever go there, and the prestige of Oxford was just unnecessarily for a third son. The funds were already put aside, Colin's traveling trunk packed, and the first year paid out. He had no choice. As a lanky, scrawny, barely 5 feet tall 12 year old boy, Colin leaves everything he has ever known behind to mourn in private, on his own, far from anything familiar

+Eton has. . .to say problems would be an understatement. Colin is under the tutelage of the harshest superintendent of the century for only one year toward the end, but it is far more than enough. The treatment is horrible. (look it up, this is historically accurate!). 'Flogging Fridays' were so harrowing, the uprisings by the students ended in stalemates and fury. In that last year, Colin had long hit his growth spurt, and resented a bully deep, *deep* in his bones. In his last year at Eton, Colin broke so many windows in the uprising that for days after, he was picking glass shards out from his clothes

+His first year at Eton was hard. Colin was small and alone and had no one in his corner. He made friends with some others, but for the most part, he was an easy target for the older boys to pick on. His name couldn't shield him from that. Being so small, even when he tried to fight back, he wasn't very successful, and most times, they would report him for violence anyway, so his choices were two fold- sit down and take it, or square up

+Colin learns to box at Eton. It isn't encouraged, surely, but one of his classmates noticed how Colin was very much not having a good time and put two and two together. He was older, a bit fatherly, almost, even though he wasn't even 18, yet. It was his last year so he was less concerned with doing things as the world expected it. Colin followed him around like a little duckling. Everywhere James went, Colin went. They sat with each other to eat dinner, then would sneak off to spar and train. He was Colin's first crush. He never told anyone, but he *is* grateful

+When Colin comes home for the first time, he *knows* everything is different. There's already a rift forming. Colin becomes a haunt in the hallway, only there in the summers and for holiday breaks. Colin becomes a ghost, half seen, wandering Aubrey Hall. Mama is over the moon, of course, as over the moon she can be still deep in grief, as is Daphne, but Fran is quieter, now, and Eloise turns away from him, frustrated at his freedoms when she gets none. Anthony has no time for him, save to ask if his studies are well, and Benedict is busy taking care of the babs

+Colin's favorite place to be when he was home was with Hyacinth. He'd sneak into the nursery and gently hold her. Though there were nurses, Colin was there so often, they swore she never cried. The truth was, Hy cried often, but Colin would notice the signs and comfort her. It made him feel better, to know there was something in this world that might need him. No one else needed him. Not Mama, not his sisters, certainly not his brothers. So, he rocks the baby sister he barely knows, and he sings her lullabies, and he cries with her, sometimes, and he's just a little less alone

+He's 14 by the time he finally starts gaining height. A late bloomer, a professor or two teases. They thought it would never come, really. He'd been a been pole for as long as anyone could remember, ever since he turned 6, but all of a sudden, he looked almost skeletal. Shooting up near an entire foot was awful. For a lot of people in his life, this was the first they'd seen him be openly miserable and snappish. Sore and frustrated, Colin had the shortest fuse he'd ever had. Oh, he had a temper. Always did. But he typically knew how to reign it in. During his growing pains, it was impossible. This is the manifest of him not sharing his food- he was constantly ravenous, and lord help anyone trying to get between him and his plate

+Colin first meets Penelope when he's 16, filled out and coming into his own, an insta-crush for Penelope, but for Colin? First thing he thought after her bonnet knocked him off his horse is that she looked like a peach. All round and pink and in her yellow dress. Colin likes peaches. So Colin likes her. It was simple as that for him

+He never got into Eloise's rivalry about Penelope. Honestly, he didn't think about her very often. Penelope seemed sweet, but she was near silent. Eloise would tell him that she wasn't that way with her, as though bragging, and Colin just shrugged. He didn't have any real interest or investment in their friendship, but he did try to be polite. The one time, Penelope stood in front of him and tried to say something for an entire minute, only to squeak and thrust out a book at him, turning tail and making off. He found it surprisingly funny. She opened up to him slowly, got more comfortable in increments, but he thinks back to that moment and remembers that she's come a long way. Would be nice to see where they end up (forshadowinggggg)

+Colin doesn't like to drink. Never carried a torch for the taste, really, but other men did it, and only in drinking did they seem to have any semblance of closeness. Colin tries it for himself. It never really works out

+Charm becomes a second skin to hide himself in. Deflecting questions to other people, remembering details about them and bringing them up, asking questions and using humor. Funny how humor lands so much easier, now. At Eton, he had no protection. (No wonder he despises a bully) But now, he was grown. Now, he was a 'man'. A conventionally attractive man (he can't really deny it). He's tall and he's finally started filling out broad and big, and he uses it to his advantage. When he talks, in his mind, somewhere, he's still that 5 foot tall boy, crying in the carriage to an unfamiliar place or grinning and bearing it his first year at school. But this time, he has a cloak to wrap around himself. This time, yes, he's softhearted and tender, but he is also beautiful and knows how to focus on someone else, and he uses it to his advantage.

+Colin understands this privilege, because for a time, he knew what it was like without it. Colin sees what happens to those who do not have it, also. For Colin, charm is the sprinkle of honey over his bitter fears and concerns. For Colin, charm is the fun party hat everyone gets to see- not that he's sad, not that he's conflicted, not that he's unsure. He's pretty. That's enough for them

+But it isn't enough for HIM. Colin grapples with his purpose because the idea that he should be content to be attractive and well off and nothing else sits unpleasantly with him. Colin wants to be a self-made man, but he is denied the opportunity. So he tries to navigate the world as it is around him, having been pre-molded and determined to a certain outcome.

+So, Colin's arc is about becoming a Man, but he is not a conventional one, so he works from example. What do Men do? Colin certainly didn't have his father to inform him, so he relies on the other men around him. Well. . .Men visit brothels and have mistresses and drink whiskey and go to clubs, but Colin doesn't want to go to a brothel, and he doesn't desire a mistress, and whiskey burns when it goes down, acrid as the smoke thick and smoggy in the clubs. So. . .what else? Well, Men get married. Men take care of a family. Men are educated.

he can do THAT

+Colin attempts to marry in Season 1 not because he is fully infatuated (he likes Marina, sure, but his eagerness is not just rooted in such) but because he is attempting to find purpose. To find meaning. To be a Man, a GOOD man. And Good Men are married, so Colin will be married. Good Men take care of their family, so Colin takes care of his family, so Colin offers to BE her family. But because these are rooted in aimless endeavors (Colin wants to be A man, but not THE man he envisions for himself), they fall apart. Now, Penelope certainly has a hand in it falling to pieces, but Colin didn't really have the right motivations to start off with, so in season 2. . .

+He's depressed. It's odd to me that others would describe season 2 as an arc in which Colin is successful. The entire time, he is in a deep depression. Colin partakes in drugs, specifically to not think about the world, or to find peace and comfort. Colin claims that no one wants to hear his stories, even if he thinks he did everything right by traveling. (Remarkable. . .yes, in the sense that I have many remarks of it). Colin drinks even though he clearly hates it, gets migraines, hangovers, grimaces at the taste, because he is looking for ESCAPE

+But Colin cannot escape. Even on a different continent, even having run, there is no where to go. His escape is not from the ton, and not even necessarily from reality, but from his own insecurities. From what he feels are his inadequacies. Good Men are married, but in Colin's mind, he abandoned Marina. Good Men take care of their family, and Colin left his. Good Men are educated, and Colin is tripping on shrooms in the middle of Cyprus, looking at the stars, wondering what he's meant to do with himself. Colin's desires to escape are deeply rooted, but Colin doesn't want to escape a PLACE. He's done that for a long time. No, Colin wants to escape a PERSON. Himself. The himself he knows himself as

+So, instead, it's easier to be someone else. Himself is messy and sensitive and needs to rehearse what he says. Himself doesn't ever say the right thing (doesn't know how) and is boring to everyone else, besides. Himself is too painful, so it's easier to be Charming Colin. Helpful Colin. Colin taking down a scheme. Colin providing for others. Because he does not matter in it. They do.

+But he DOES. Season 3 sees Colin masquerading. Successfully, of course, but nonetheless. He's half settled into himself and half settled into the persona. When Penelope gives him the cold shoulder with no explanation? Persona. When Eloise avoids him? Persona. When Fran is getting trussed up like a calf for auction on the marriage mart? Persona. Colin spends so much of his life trying to be someone else

+And then he finds out Penelope is Whistledown, and the betrayal of it rips all his talent from him. He can no longer be Happy Colin, Smiling Colin, Here, I'll Help Colin- no, now he is just angry. Sad. Upset. Hurt. Conflicted. He can only be COLIN, and he does not want her to see. Does not want her to reveal it to everyone else, that the man they saw was a sham, that deep down, he is still that boy, that boy Marina said he was, that boy chasing dreams and fantasies, that boy curled up in the cupboard, sobbing about losing his dad, that empty, hollow boy, able to offer up nothing but charm

+But they will see. She will see. And he will see, too. Just who Colin really is. Just who he can be. And just how full and rich and wonderful the reality really is, mess and all

[charlie-baxter]

First Times

monster x human, ftm/trans male!human, strap-on sex, forked tongue, aphrodisiac body fluids

“What if I’m not good with it?” Jack says, after sliding the harness on and buckling it tight. “You’re so used to people who know what they’re doing, and I’m… I’ve never done this before.”

“What if I’m not good with it?” Jack says, after sliding the harness on and buckling it tight. “You’re so used to people who know what they’re doing, and I’m… I’ve never done this before.”

The leather is soft and smooth, and it sits against his skin tightly. If he focuses on that, on the cold metal buckles just starting to warm up against his skin, on the way that Ardour looks splayed across their bed, Jack can just about forget the way his hands are trembling.

And god, Ardour looks good. She’s a gorgeous woman, so gorgeous that it takes Jack’s breath away sometimes. She’s all rounded curves and soft stomach, dark hair that reaches to her mid back, always dressed in the perfect complimentary shade. Right now, the delicate lace bra and panties are a soft, cool slate grey, and against the dark red of her skin they look perfect.

Right, dark red. Because she’s more than a woman. If the shade of her skin didn’t tell Jack that, the delicate, curled horns emerging from her forehead would. So would the long forked tongue that he can see press against her black-lined lips as she looks up at him, hunger burning in her eyes.

When Ardour speaks, her voice is warm and husky.

“It will be good,” she reassures him. “Because it’s you. And I want you.”

She says it with the tone of voice of somebody who absolutely truly believes what she’s saying. And that’s enough to make Jack believe it a little too. Enough to briefly forget all the boyfriends who scoffed when he asked if he could top, enough to forget all the evenings he’d spent on his laptop desperately trying to find evidence that somebody out there might want somebody with his desires, enough to forget how he’d only managed to come to Ardour with a request when he was several pints in.

For a moment, he forget it all. All there is in the universe is him and Ardour and this dark, cushion covered, LED-lit bedroom. It smells of jasmine and vanilla, and it feels like the most inevitable thing in the world as he steps forward, kneels in front of Ardour’s bed, and presses a kiss to her lips.

When they first got together — first started whatever this thing between them is — the kisses had been what had surprised Jack the most. Sure, he’d known about it in theory, known that succubus saliva increased sensitivity. But knowing in dry, scientific terms was different from feeling it, knowing the exact way his body would suddenly feel warm and heady. She tastes of cherry lipgloss and hellfire smoke, and as she opens her mouth and bites on Jack’s bottom lip gently, he reaches up to cup the back of her head. Jack tangles his fingers in her curls, lets his eyes drift close, and lets himself just feel.

Her teeth let go, and Jack wonders if what he can taste is blood, but there’s no time to question properly. Not when that long forked tongue is finding its way into his mouth. He moans, not just against her but into her, and he can feel the smirk Ardour flashes against his lips.

Her dark eyes are wide and dilated when they part for air, her breath quick. Jack’s is quicker still, and he knows what his eyes must look like, round and bright as the moon.

“Come fuck me,” Ardour says. And Jack knows he could back out, knows there’s still space for him to decide this is too much and say no, but Ardour’s voice still makes it sound like a command. “I want you and that big harnessed cock inside me.”

Jack does as she says. He’s kneeled between her legs, the crushed velvet of Ardour’s bedsheet’s soft against the exposed skin of his thighs. The toy is long and wickedly curve, the colour so perfectly matching the tone of his skin that it’s like it was made specifically for him, and when he rubs the head against Ardour’s folds, he can’t look away from the sight. Ardour moans, quietly, and she’s so wet and dripping that all Jack can think about is sinking his harnessed cock into her. And when her legs wrap around his hips and pull him closer, that’s what happens. There’s briefly a pressure pushing back on him through the leather of the harness and onto his t-dick,. But a moment later the resistance is gone, her pussy stretching and letting him fill her up.

To begin with, Jack’s movements are clumsy, and he knows it. He’s driven by instinct, by this primal need inside him to grind his hips inside her. But he’s a quick learner, and when those legs around his waist start to guide him, he follows them. Long, rapid strokes become slower, more targeted, and Jack realises — as Ardour’s breathing becomes heavy and ragged underneath him — that inside her, that curved head is perfectly placed. His breathing is heavy too, his brow covered in sweat, but right now he doesn’t care. All there is in the universe is him and Ardour and the space between them.

“I love you,” he manages, the words stuttered and stammered between heavy breaths. That pressure against him through the harness is back, building as he rolls his hips. He doesn’t think he can come, but he knows that if he can this is the start of it, that long slow build into ecstasy. Underneath him, Ardour smiles, flashes the sharp points of her teeth, and snakes a hand between their bodies to stroke at her clit.

“I love you too,” she purrs back. Her free hand reaches up, long nails raking against the skin of Jack’s back, and he gasps at the sensation. “Now make me come around your cock.”

Jack doesn’t think he can come from the pressure, but this is better. Being hilt-deep inside of Ardour, feeling her legs around him and hearing her heavy breath, knowing — as the hand between them speeds up — that he’s bringing her closer and closer… god, it’s a thousand times better than a brief burst of his own pleasure could be. He can feel her need, feel that he’s driving her towards release with each movement.

When he gives one last snap of his hips, the nails on his back dig in. And then the rest of Ardour moves too, clinging to him even as her legs shake and her body jerks and her lips let out a strangled cry. She’s warm to the touch, so warm that Jack wants to melt into her and never let go.

“That,” she manages, when she’s come back down to earth. “Was fantastic.”

And Jack — still floating off the high of how good and right it felt — smiles and nods.

[ryuzakemo128]

Wrath of a Scorned Woman

Pairings: Freyja Raengyreon & Floris Baratheon / Aemond Targaryen x Female Velaryon Reader

Content Warning: cussing and swearing.

Words: 765

Masterlist

Credit 4 Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Summary: Heavy footsteps had come from down a cavernous hall. Floris ringing a bell from a velvet cushion, engraved dragons into the gold bell. “You are a coward, and I will see that history forgets you.” Floris spoke, looking at Aemond with his mistress.

“You have mistaken your own importance, husband. I have no further need of you or this ‘marriage’. I have found something greater than anything you could have ever provided me.” Floris eyes narrowed at her would be ex-husband. “I have found a dragon grander and greater than your eyes had ever seen.”

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Heavy footsteps had come from down a cavernous hall. Floris ringing a bell from a velvet cushion, engraved dragons into the gold bell. “You are a coward, and I will see that history forgets you.” Floris spoke, looking at Aemond with his mistress.

Towering over the three of them, a woman, a giantess of a woman. Eyes of blue violet mixed with light grey. Lumen in the dimly lit room. Burgundy red hair long enough to brush across the floor. Freyja didn’t have to say anything. All she had to do is stand there. A clear enough warning to those who break their oaths.

Floris might have harmed his mistress. But Aemond did something far, far worse. He ruined her chances of having children of her own. Ruined her chance of getting something she wanted. She didn’t care for the consequences, damn them all, and she will bring his entire house around his head. Bring him to his pathetic knees and crush him like he crushed her. May he die in a pool of ruin, like the seven have foretold in legends.

Floris determined to bring down her soon-to-be ex-husband and his mistress. She didn’t care if she were to die in the process. She had a dragon, and for once in her life she had the power to change things to make her own life better. Better for herself and her house. “Greens can’t keep their oaths, it seems.” Freyja snarled into his ear. “Can’t help themselves, can’t help but ruin everything they touch with their slimy, rotten hands.”

Floris’s smug grin spread across her face, ‘I will crush your bones until you lay broken in front of me. You will watch your house burn until nothing, but cinders, ashes and embers, remain. I will have you dragged from one end of king’s landing to the other until you are swimming in an ocean of pain.’

Aemond looked into Freyja’s eyes, his heart beating like a drum inside his chest, “You don’t know what you’re asking for, Floris.”

“But I do. According to your brother. You just need her. This marriage is no longer needed if that is the case.” Floris snapped at him. “And you. (Y/N) You have nothing to give, and you are worth nothing in comparison. Keep that pathetic excuse of a man. Keep him as you rot into the earth when I am done with you. You shall bear witness as I ruin him and everything that he will ever have. I will kill you all and decorate you on my walls. A better end than you are worthy of.”

(Y/N) spoke up, "You think you can just cast us aside? You're a fool, Floris. Aemond is the heir to House Targaryen, and I am his chosen. Your threats mean nothing to me."

"Aemond is prince regent and Aegon's son is his heir. Your existence means nothing to me any longer." Floris corrected. "Perhaps if you were more interested in books than Aemond's cock, you would have learned that by now."

“As you can see, I do not need you anymore. I have found someone greater than you. Grander. She will give me everything I want and more.” Floris declared, she found herself a dragon. A dragon more liable to eat the ones the House of Targaryen rides. “We have no further need of House Targaryen. Take your leave NOW.” She smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress and walked out of the room.

Freyja glared at the two of them, “I will devour your dragons, crush their bones and force your entire family to watch. You will not leave this world without knowing the pain you have brought down. I will eat your dragon sheepstealer, Vhagar and Sunfire. A mere snack. A small payment for what you have done to my benefactor. Or you could annul this pitiful marriage you have no interest in and leave. Otherwise, I will, and can, devour all that you are. All that you will ever be.”

Freyja stood guard outside of Floris’s bedchambers. Disallowing entry to anyone Floris did not approve of. “Aemond take your mistress (Y/N) Targaryen and leave. You are no longer worthy of Floris Baratheon.” Freyja growled as she prevented him from chasing after Floris.

[steddietogo]

Made With Love

Steddie TikTok au: Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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Bobin_Buck Posted 20 mins ago

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Caption:

Get ready with me: Date night edition

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Robin and Eddie are rooting through Robin's closet for a perfect date outfit for Robin. Steve has been banished to the bed due to conflicting opinions. He pouts and complains about it for a long time.

"You should totally do that, you'll get so much more views then," Robin says after Eddie suggests that Steve should make a suggestive thirst trap male chefs on the cursed clock app can't stop making.

"I'm not smacking a chicken thigh to get more views, thank you very much." Steve protests, lying upside down with his head hanging off the side of the bed.

"Oh don't act like your above it, Steven, we all know about your several slutty exploits-" Steve launches a cushion into her face, making her scream bloody murder.

"You could make one wearing just your apron," Eddie suggests and wiggles his eyebrows at Steve, making him snort out loud.

"Ew. that would be so embarrassing," Robin fake gags.

"Well, unlike you Buckley, I can appreciate a good looking man-" In the background. Steve rolls over to hide his face in the pillows as Robin and Eddie continue to bicker.

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Eddie is holding the phone, filming himself. "Passing the phone to someone who acts like dog with the zoomies after a single cup of coffee,"

Cut to Robin, who says, "Passing the phone to the someone who routinely gets bullied by kids several years younger than him,"

"Passing the phone to someone with chronic foot-in-mouth disease and was too scared to talk to their crush that they hid in men's bathroom for a full ten minutes." Steve says, sending a withering glare to someone off camera.

"Passing the phone to the person who got chased by a damn poodle into the- HEY!" The phone gets yanked out of Robin's hands halfway through her sentence.

"Passing the phone to Tinker Bell who is dying because he isn't getting enough attention." Steve says, then shoves the camera towards Eddie who is dramatically pouting on the couch then immediately perks up when he's given the phone.

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There's a montage of Robin showing off different outfits. Eddie and Steve are sitting on the couch with table tennis racquets on their hands with 'YES:) and 'NO:(' scribbled on each side to rate each of her outfits.

A green sweater vest with a white shirt underneath gets an immediate no and Robin walks back into her room like a sad tom cat. A blue crushed velvet shirt under suspenders gets a maybe. The winning combo is the one with a black suit vest underneath an oversized pinstriped suit jacket and high waisted pleated pants.

Eddie leaps from the couch, exclaiming, "I know what this outfit needs- chains!" then bounds off to his room to pick some out.

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Bonus clip:

Robin and Steve are piping cream puffs and Eddie walks past them, takes one look at it and says "Me, when I- when-". The video loops back to the beginning just as the three of them dissolve into cackles.

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Comments:

user 80085: Slutty exploits??? We need details

Corrodedfan: Did Eddie publicly announce getting creamp— *g^nshot*

Dustin H: Goodluck with your date Robin!!

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