#damn y’all did not waste time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thecoochiefairy · 7 days ago

Text

lovesick. toji.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 17.1K. word count. blackfem!reader, toji fushiguro, countryboycoded! toji, sweet!toji,dominant!toji, makeup sex, drunk sex, balcony sex, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough sex, lil bit of sweet talkin’, creaming, squirting, oral [f], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condom-less sex, kissing, spanking, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ listen, don’t cuss me out. it seems like most of y’all didn’t really fuck w/ the snake wrangler, but i did. so this is for the people that did love it, and wanted to tie up the loose ends. :)

𝓐ᥫ᭡ :: song is switch a nigga out, by summer walker.

A PROMINENT FLORAL AROMA WITH A MIXTURE OF GRAPE HUGGED HER NOSE. It was entirely too early for her to be drinking, but she was dying to know her sister’s opinion on the new wine she’d bought, mixing it with orange juice to create her own customized mimosa.

She dropped a pink hibiscus flower within the tall glass, turning with a small smile as she handed it out, “Here you are, madam—I trust your tongue on the taste of Moscato—don’t fail me now.”

“Tuh, I got this!”

She took the glass delicately, bringing it to her lips. Drinking a bit of the orange and pink liquid, she swirls it around her tongue before swallowing it down, letting the flavors sink into her taste buds. She smacks her lips together a couple of times, twisting the glass around in her hand fancily.

“Mm, I can taste the floral tinge from the hibiscus with a dash of grapes. It’s a nice balance of both bitter and sweet. You ate that!”

“I told you it would taste good!” Stoney gives a smile, taking her piece of avocado bread, biting down into it as this was her breakfast.

She then asks, “Now, remind me again why you aren’t participating in Sai’s career day at school, Ms. I Bake Decorative cakes for a living?”

Serena took another drink of her Mimosa before letting out a sigh, biting down on a piece of her own Avocado bread. She let out a soft hum before speaking, running a hand through her hair as she leaned back in her seat.

“You know I hate talking in front of people. What about you, bitch? You own a whole pottery studio! Don’t you think that would’ve been cool to show the kids?”

“Do you know how expensive a pound of pottery clay is? I love Sai’s lil�� besties, but I’m not wasting my shit on some bad ass kids,” she shakes her head, “You’re just lazy. Could’ve made them kids a damn Paw-Patrol cake and let them smash it. God don’t like ugly.”

“Well I don’t know how he had our mom birth you then, extra terrestrial. Don’t piss me off— where’s your daughter at before I smack you?”

Stoney holds back her laugh as she teases, “Ooh, you’re mad. But she’s upstairs, getting herself ready. I did her hair and stuff, I told her she could be responsible for picking her outfit, I just hope she doesn’t come downstairs with two left shoes on and her shirt backwards.”

Serena snickered at the thought, shaking her head as she drank her mimosa again, glancing at the stairs.

“You know if she does, that’s on you for letting her pick out her own outfit.”

“That’s fine! That’s my baby, and she tried!”

As she was finishing her sentence, the sound of footsteps came down the stairs towards the kitchen, both women turning their heads to see Sai. She actually hadn’t done bad at all, it was an event at school, so they were told to dress up. Her soft midnight black hair was slicked back into miniature pigtails, edges swirled along her forehead and finger curled ponytails in between the rubber bands beneath her alabaster bows. She wore a shimmering pink dress, glittered at the top, tulle starting at her chest and to her ankles, her ballerina flats matching her bows, socks having ruffled lace along the ankle part.

Stoney gasps, pressing her hands against her face as she greets, “Hi, baby!” Smiling from ear to ear at her five year old, “You look so pretty—You dressed yourself so well!”

Sai grins to herself, giggling softly as she does a little spin for her mom, showing off the pretty tulle of her dress as it swayed around.

“You think I look pretty, mommy?”

Stoney goes over to her, picking her up and placing her along her hip as she usually did, “So good, my love. Such a good job, hm? I’m so proud of you.”

Sai grins from ear to ear, wrapping her tiny little arms around her mother, nuzzling her face against her shoulder. She lifts her head up to look at her aunt Serena, waving a hand at her.

“Tee-Tee ‘Rena’—did I do a good job?” She questions, Serena chuckling and approaching the two. Just like an aunt, she had her camera out, recording her niece in awe, snapping a thousand pictures.

“Tee-Tee’s baby did so well! You’ll be the prettiest girl there.”

Sai then turns, her big doe eyes—something she’d definitely gotten from her father—blinking at her mother as she conveniently questions, “Is daddy still coming today?”

There it was, the question she wished she could avoid. Her and Nathaniel had been divorced for about six months, separated even before that, and she constantly tried to shield Sai from the absence of her father—she had the unfortunate job of reminding her child what disappointment was.

She tried not to allow her face to drop as she said, “No, baby. Daddy said he had to work today, so he won’t be coming, okay? I’m sorry.”

Serena awkwardly rubbed sisters shoulder, knowing she hated the face her daughter made each time she was given that news. This was a normal occurrence now, everytime Sai asked about her father, he’d be busy.

“Who the hell wants to see a weak ass fuckin’ stock broker anyways. What he gon’ do? Teach the kids how to rob, cheat, steal their money?” Serena smacked her lips, Stoney giving a warning as she briefly murmurs, “Serena.”

Serena pushes off her anger at her ex-brother in law, “My bad. But hey, my lil’ Sai-Sai. Me and your mommy will be there with you and all your friends, and I made cupcakes with extrraa sprinkles!”

“And, Daddy will be here this weekend to pick you up so you can go Christmas shopping with him, yeah?” Stoney adds in, kissing her daughter’s soft cheek multiple times to cheer her up.

Sai was now back to her excited and happy self, giggling when her mother showered her with kisses. The thought of her daddy bringing her shopping was exciting, the thought of spending time with him in general, made the young girl happy.

“Can we get presents for you too, mommy?”

“Yeah. Tell the bastard I need thirty bands in the bank right now,” Serena says, Stoney flicking her arm as she interrupts that, “Of course, baby. A little card with your name on it would be beautiful for mommy. You’ ready to go? We don’t wanna be late!”

Sai nodded her head enthusiastically, a sparkle of excitement in her eyes. She hopped down from her mother’s arms, putting her tiny hands in her mom and aunts palms, walking with the two to the front door. This was all Stoney needed—the happiness from her daughter.

It didn’t matter if she had to be the only one that created that for her—almost having to be the mother and father, essentially—but it didn’t matter. She’d always work twice as hard to provide for Sai. Even if that meant taking her business and turning it into a small pottery studio, having classes three times out the week, allowing people to learn the creations she taught herself. It worked for her.

They placed the cupcakes for her class within the trunk, Stoney’s Lexus NX 350 pushing down the road as she made her way towards the school building.

“What did that dumbass nigga come up with as an excuse this time?” Serena questions, turning the air up on her side of the passenger seat, not wanting to ask the question, but she was always curious.

Stoney keeps her hand along the wheel, glancing at the mirrors beside her as she switches lanes, “Said he had a client. I didn’t say too much after that.”

Stoney’s lips form a thin line, sighing to herself. It was always the same thing every time he said he wouldn’t be able to make it with Sai. Work, clients, clients, meetings, meetings. She honestly wondered when it would just stop. It was always some excuse, always something more important than her. Always.

“I bet the bitch still wanna play house with you. He probably misses you.”

“I wouldn’t care if he offered me the entire world to get back with him,” Stoney briefly says, turning the wheel with one hand, “I just want him to be there for Sai, even if that means explaining what stock-broking is to a bunch of five-year olds. It would’ve been boring, but it would’ve meant something for her, y’know?”

Serena nods her head, crossing her arms against her chest. She turns in her seat, looking back at her niece, who was preoccupied with Bubble Guppies on her mini IPad, eyes glittering in a mix of childish happiness and innocence.

“She’d be way better if she didn’t have a sorry ass dad like him. She’s got you though, you’re doing an amazing job. And you have me. That nigga could turn into a dry-ass Popeyes biscuit.”

“You’d still eat him, huh? Hungry ass.”

“…Maybe. Actually, damn right! And I’d take three days to shit him out, you know I be’ constipated.”

“You’re stupid,” Stoney sighs, a soft laugh pulling at that.

“That’s fine, better than the biscuit man. Not that you need a man, but a step-daddy for Sai wouldn’t hurt.”

And at that comment, Stoney decides to say nothing at all, pulling into the school's parking lot. She can see other parents with their children, some of the children dressed in different uniforms from firefighters, chefs, to even small suits, their parents looking to be dressed in their actual work outfits. It was a full on event.

They were guided towards the Kindergarten wing, a door that separated off into an entirely different section that was a lot smaller than what the other grades had to deal with. Stoney and Serena greeted Sai’s teacher, placing the desserts they’d made for her class in the back where everything else sat, Sai giving her mom one last hug as she sat on the carpet with her friends. All the other parents began piling in, a couple unfamiliar faces also standing in the front of the class. It was a man dressed in scrubs, a female police officer, and another man who seemed to be some type of military profession.

Stoney picked up the bright yellow paper that titled the event of today, looking up as she said softly to her sister, “Hm, I didn’t know they’d have extra guests come and speak today. I guess you didn’t have to sign up for it.”

“I guess not,” Serena shrugs her shoulders. She looks around the room, her eyes landing on the unknown men. She then turns to her sister, a sly smile pulling at her lips.

“Some of them are pretty cute, you have your pick. The doctor, the police officer, or the military? Who’d you choose?” She teases, lightly shoving Stoney’s shoulders with a laugh.

Stoney shakes her head, “Who would you pick, desperate?”

“I’m not desperate,” Serena exclaims quietly, rolling her eyes. She looks at each one of the men again, biting her lip as she tries to decide. After a second, she points at the doctor with his clipboard.

“I love a nigga in scrubs. Mhm, although I’m sure he’ married. Honestly—If he puts me up in a condo, I might be able to get over his wife and kids.”

“You’re terrible, you know that?”

“Terrible? Meh. Smart? Correct,” Serena grins, watching the teacher as she begins speaking.

The teacher smiles at the room of parents and kids as they all sit quietly, a small giggle leaving her lips. Each child was going to get the chance to talk about their ‘dream job’ and what they wanted to be when they got older. The special guests would also have an opportunity to explain their job, educating the children in addition to that. As the presentation begins, each kid around the room holds a paper, showing a drawing of what they wanted to be and why. It was an adorable sight, some of them saying fairies, ninjas, assassins, jobs you’d expect a child to say. Then, it was Sai’s turn.

Stoney was easily emotional, she knew that. She told herself she wasn’t going to cry when her daughter stood up there to present her career choice, Serena holding up her phone to record as the five year old held what looked to be her butterfly shaped pottery dish she’d made.

“My name's Sai, and I wanna be like my mommy when I grow up!”

The little girl held up the dish—which had pink butterflies, along with the letters ‘S’ and ‘S’ drawn on it—with a smile on her face, showing it off to the rest of the room as she continued, “My mommy makes all these pretty plates and other cool stuff. It makes people happy, so I wanna make people happy. My mommy is like a superhero!”

The teacher smiled at her, “That’s wonderful, Sai. Your dish is beautiful.”

Stoney’s heart had nearly melted inside of her body, and she wanted to crocodile cry. She loved nothing more in this world than her baby girl.

“All right, we’ll now be moving onto our guests—“

A knock on the door interrupts the teacher's words, the door opening before she could make her way over to it. As Stoney turned her attention like everyone else, it seemed like time stopped—Just to her unamusement. Just to laugh in her damn face.

He almost had to hunch to come within the classroom, as the ceiling was low, but he was big—his shoulders broad, flexing muscles stretching along his back under the dark long sleeve he wore. His full and dark pink lips, scar cutting through his mouth dangerously, scarily straight teeth made by the devil himself. Dark eyebrows that furrowed as he walked in, sable hair all complimenting his cream skin, littering in tattoos that she knew he had.

She could imagine the serpent that slithered around his arm, the same one that clutched her hair within his veined palm. And then—those eyes. Those grey eyes poured into her senses, picking up her melting heart and having it drop completely out of her body.

Toji fucking Fushiguro.

Her sister's phone that was previously held up slowly dropped down, looking towards her younger sister who could’ve gone into cardiac arrest at this very moment.

She muttered, “Oh hell.”

Has he gotten bigger? Taller? Sexier? Why couldn’t he have just become ugly all of a sudden?

His voice was almost unrecognizable to her, deep, assertive as his first words were, “I’m sorry. Did I miss the special guest presentation?”

Stoney’s eyes were practically popping out of her sockets at the sight of the man—who she thought she’d never see again. And yet, there he was. Toji Fushiguro, standing in all his tall dark glory. She was practically about to have a heart attack.

The teacher smiles, shaking her head and waving a hand, “No, not at all. You’re actually just in time. Come on up. Class, this is another guest of ours, this is Mr. Fushiguro, he’s a Snake Wrangler.”

The kids cheered at the title—snake wrangler was such a unique and thrilling name to them. But to Stoney, it was like hearing her worst nightmare. She hadn’t seen this man in two months. Since he’d helped her move into her house, since he’d fucked her, cared for her in ways a man in years couldn’t care for her in the way he did in one night.

And to her luck, Sai instantly recognizes the tall man, running up to him as she wraps her arms along his leg, squealing, “Mr. Snake Man!”

She wished at this moment that Sai wasn’t so damn outgoing—or that maybe this was her personal hell, and it was only a nightmare. Her dark brown eyes widened, her jaw almost dropping open.

A blind person could sense how attractive he was, even the teacher giving him a look. She collects herself, smiling at Sai, “You know him, sweetie?”

“Uh-huh! He’s mommy’s friend!” Sai exclaims, her little tiny hands wrapped around his thick, muscular leg.

In that instant, it’s like the entire class looks back towards Stoney, which causes him to look at her. Yup, she was going to faint. She was going to black out.

“Hey, pretty girl. I missed you,” Toji picks Sai up for a moment, pulling her into a hug that makes the small child giggle before placing her back down.

Stoney was red. Her brown skin was flushed at the situation, unable to even speak. Her heart was racing. He was staring.

She was practically unable to move, unable to function, unable to breathe. Her dark brown eyes staring back into his storm grey ones, unable to break contact. What the hell was he even doing here? This was not the place to run into your one night stand after two months of disappearance.

The teacher’s voice came in again, “It’s wonderful to have you here, Mr. Fushiguro. Why don’t you find a seat until it’s time for your presentation?”

He gives a nod, politely smiling as she guides him to a small stool they’d brought for the guests to sit out in front of the group. He sits there now, sitting in that damn school-sized-stool that looked like it would break at any second, his palm clutching what looked to be a travel terrarium.

Nothing was louder than Stoney’s thoughts. She now felt extremely insecure in the top she wore, showing off her midriff, her cargos and fuzzy boots, jade green glasses perched atop of her freckled nose, straight hair lazily pulled behind her face in a matching claw clip.

Serena was having the best time out of anyone there, watching as her poor sister looked like she was going to burst into tears. Stoney knew if she looked next to her, she was going to punch Serena in the face. He couldn’t help but stare at her—she was the prettiest thing to him. Something in his scar twitched at the sight of her glasses, and those freckles he seemed to memorize all those months ago.

He looked over her body once more, watching her bite at her brown lined lips, how her cheeks were naturally blushed.

God, he missed her.

“And for our final presenter, everyone give a warm welcome for Mr. Fushiguro!” The teacher ignites clapping throughout the classroom, women gawking, men watching his every move. He was like an alien that’d just come down to earth.

The children cheered and clapped, their eyes looking up at him as he stood from the stool, which was somehow holding up his 200+ pound ass. He stands there, intimidating aura practically surrounding him without needing any effort.

“Well, I’m a Snake Wrangler, or a snake catcher, meaning I help capture reptiles that might be in places they shouldn’t be. In your neighborhood, your backyard, maybe even in your toilet,” which makes the class giggle, but nothing was funny to Stoney at this moment.

A kid within the front of the class raises his hands, speaking anyway before he is called to ask the question, “Have you been bitten before?”

Toji chuckled, the question amusing him, but he answered anyway, “I have. Quite a few times actually. Mostly from smaller snakes. It’s not that bad, just uncomfortable and a little scary if it’s from a bigger one.”

The class ‘ooed’ at the answer. Another kid spoke up, “Can we see?”

He smirked, holding up his arm, where there were indeed a few circular shaped scars on his olive skin. All of them seemed shocked, like it was some cool thing. Except Stoney. Who knew what those scars felt like on his skin.

He then places the terrarium on the desk, his broad back facing the classroom for a brief second—making Stoney’s insides throb,imagining her fingers clawing at his back, whining into his ear.

She blinks, wanting to bang her head against the wall to knock sense into herself, hearing his voice as he asks, “Now, who wants to hold a snake?”

Maybe Stoney wasn’t alone in the fear that struck against the classroom, but her fears were entirely different. She expected at least one child to volunteer, yet they all sit with wide eyes, seeing as a yellow reptile slithers around his arm, finding comfort in the material of his top.

“This is Lily,” he introduces, “She’s a ball python. Her color might look a little scary, but she’s the sweetest. She loves to cuddle, and she says her favorite show is SpongeBob,” which makes the class giggle, the parents amused at his words.

A student calls out, “She can’t talk, she’s a snake!”

“She talks to me all the time!” He defends, “She’s just nervous to see all you new people, takes her a while to get comfortable enough.”

The kids laugh at the statement, even Stoney having to hold back a weak laugh, watching how easy he was with them. He allowed the snake to slither up his arm, up until she made her way to his neck, locking around his throat as he adds, “This is her favorite place to sleep. They like where it’s warm.”

Stoney was more focused on the way that damn snake slid across his muscular arm and shoulders. It unfairly fit him—made him look even hotter somehow.

But the thought of the snake touching her—it made her shiver. The fact that she was still standing here watching, it was definitely a sense of growth, something she might’ve been able to thank him for.

The kids seemed intrigued by the animal, even more when Toji carefully picked one child to hold the snake. The girl was clearly nervous, but when she was holding the reptile, she had the biggest smile on her face.

“The main thing I want you guys to understand,” Toji continued his presentation, “Is that snakes are just tryna’ survive. They’re more scared of you than you are of them. They just want to eat and lay down somewhere warm, nothing more.”

She could feel his eyes on her, and she knew that the second this presentation was over, he was going to come over there to talk.

Not gonna happen.

So the moment she heard the teacher say, “Thank you so much, Mr. Fushiguro, you’ve been amazing!” She beelined for the bathroom as everyone began clapping, hiding within the stalls until Serena confirmed that he was already gone.

She nearly had to fan herself, giving her baby girl a kiss before making her way out of the building with her sister, wanting nothing more than to hide under the covers of her bed and scream.

When they got into the car, Serena held a hand over her mouth, giving her sister a couple of minutes as she said, “Can I laugh? I’m finna’ laugh. I’m so sorry, shawty.”

“Shut up,” Stoney grumbles, her fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter as she sped back to her place.

“And you rushed to the bathroom like you were gonna throw up. That’s a damn shame.”

“Shut up,” she repeated again, rolling her eyes as her sister continued laughing, “I was embarrassed.”

“Why you’ being weird anyways? Y’all not fucking or something?”

Stoney blows out a breath. She then admits, “I haven’t spoken to Toji in two months.”

Serena’s jaw practically drops to the floor of the car. She’s shocked into being speechless for a good thirty seconds before blurting out, “Two months? Ain’t no way you haven’t tried to reach out.”

“I thought it’d be letting him down easier that way.”

“For someone who says they hate when people just cut them off without any explanation, you sure went and did the same. You know how lame you look?”

She narrows her eyes, “I have my reasons, Serena. I didn’t just stop talking to him for the fuck of it.”

Serena gives her, “Oh yeah? Then what’s your reason?” She turns her whole body to look at her, her arms still crossed, waiting to hear what she says.

Now thinking of the reasons she was going to say, maybe she was starting to feel a little stupid. The moment Toji left that morning after, he asked about seeing her again and she told him she was busy— she stopped picking up his calls or even responding to his messages.

She exhaled as she responded, “I’m busy with the studio and Sai. I don’t have time for some kiddy ass puppy crush.”

Serena looked at her in disbelief, “You can’t be for real. You spend all of your time with Sai if she isn’t at school, you work from home, and the studio is open three times out of the week. This heartless front you’re tryna’ put on? Doesn’t suit you.”

“Well how would you feel if the man that helped you move your stuff into your ex-husbands house listens to your sob story, makes you feel like you matter, and then fucks you so good that you tell him to cum inside of you after only knowing him for forty-eight hours? I feel stupid. Maybe I was just vulnerable, and he was just horny.”

“You let that man cum inside you?”

“That’s not the point of what I just said, Serena.”

Her younger sister's eyes were an expressway to her heart, she could never lie about her emotions. She seemed to have built a wall between herself and everyone. Her hands gripped the wheel tighter, her knuckles white and trembling, her lips pursing.

There were a million things Serena could say to her at this moment, but instead she asked, “Why do you feel stupid?”

She pulls into her driveway, parking as she sits on that thought. She knew why, maybe she just didn’t want to admit that to herself. She hated being as emotional as she was, wearing her entire heart on her sleeve.

She pulls her hair behind her ear, “I let him in too quickly, I didn’t even know him, Serena. I have a daughter, and I’m a grown ass woman. I can’t just be fucking niggas and thinking they’re in love with me.”

Serena looked at her, almost seeing herself in her younger sister as she said, “Love at first sight seems like a fairytale, I’m well aware of that. I know you’re an adult and you have a daughter, but you ain’t dead, girl. You can live a little—you should live a little more.”

Serena reaches out and places a hand on Stoney’s shoulder, saying, “You haven’t been yourself since you and Nathaniel’s split. So what’s really the deeper issue?”

Goddammit. The question makes her eyes turn away from her sister, looking forward to her condo, the sight of it becoming blurry in her eyes.

She quickly sniffles as she drags her palm along her cheek, hating that she was crying. Her voice was hoarse as she admitted, “I just feel stupid. A man I knew for two days showed me an affection I never got from my own husband…” She presses her hands to her face, “I just…I’ve been wasting so much time…and I h—hate myself for it…”

The sound of her crying hurt Serena in ways she couldn’t describe. Seeing her younger sister like this, knowing how much emotional weight she carried, it didn’t feel fair to her. No one should have to feel that way.

“Dammit bitch, got me crying too,” she lightly laughed while sniffling, her own tears forming in her eyes, “You’re not stupid for falling a little too hard. That dumbass baby daddy of yours never deserved you in the first place. Fuck that meat head. The only good thing that came from that was Sai, this condo, and your booming business. You’re blessed, baby girl. Know that. And now you have a man trying to fill that emptiness you don’t need, but deserve. Let him show you a love you didn’t have in a place you should’ve. Give him that opportunity.”

She takes in her sister’s words. She didn’t need any man’s love, but if it was genuine, it didn’t hurt to open herself up again. She sinks deeper into her older sister, needing her comfort as she says softly, “I love you.”

Serena smiles against her skin, holding her close as she says, “Ahh, you’re always a little cry baby when you’re sad. But I love you more. And if this man breaks your heart, Imma’ break his skull. So stop crying. You’re ruining my makeup, and I have a date tonight.”

She pulls her head up, “Wasn’t you just saying you wanted that doctor's number at the Career Day? Now you got a date?”

She smacks her lips, waving it off as she says, “Do you doubt me as a bitch who can get any nigga she wants? That’s my date, girl! I got his number. Foine ass doctor, let me tell you.”

Here we go again.

Stoney felt a little better as the next day came. It was one of her favorite days out of the week, being within her studio and helping others enjoy a session. She had different packages—Pottery and Paint, Pottery and Pot/Smoking, Pottery and Sip— she enjoyed each session, and always was received well by her customers. She loved her studio, SAI’S, sign illuminating pink at the top of the building. It was minimalistic within the inside, honey pine wood tables and walls, plants hung along the ceiling, easels and workstations scattered within the workshop. This was her second home.

Today in particular was a children’s birthday party, having the children all along the table with mats, mushing their creations into anything they wanted and painting over it. She had Sai participating with them, as she was in the studio with her today to be picked up by her father for the next week or so, spending time with him before Christmas. She knew her daughter was excited, but she wasn’t exactly looking forward to him coming to her place of sanctuary.

A small smile came along her face as she continued to lead, “Okay, so you’re gonna take your clay and roll it into a little burrito—but don’t eat it! It’ll make you very sick,” she dramatically rubs her stomach, making the children giggle, “Can I see everyone make a burrito for me?”

This was her peace of mind, being surrounded by all things she loved. Her baby girl’s giggle, the sound of clay, paint brushes and paint. It was all something she could immerse herself in.

As the session came to an end, she said her goodbyes to the children and parents, beginning to clean off the tables and unused supplies, feeling herself becoming a bit tired from the day.

“Alright, muffin. I need you to go and clean up in the bathroom, so you can look all nice and pretty for Daddy, okay?” She says to Sai, pulling her out of the chair she placed her in, “You need any help from mommy?”

“I’ll be okay!”

As she continued to clean up the supplies, she heard the bell atop of her door jingling, and inhaled a deep breath. Her eyes met with her ex-husband, caramel skin, hazel eyes, waves upon his head. He was wearing a suit, assuming he was coming from work.

When she goes to politely greet him, the first thing he does is look around, raising an eyebrow as he says, “So this is where all my child support money is going, huh?”

And just like that, her good mood was ruined. She reaches over to grab the Hello Kitty duffle that had all of her daughter’s necessities, reaching it towards him as she dismisses, “Your daughter has her Christmas list in her bag, Nathan. She also needs new shoes, she’s beginning to grow out of her old ones.”

He reaches for the bag, his hand touching hers for a moment. His eyes drift down towards her tattoos on her forearms, before they look down towards her chest, as she wears a soft green tracksuit set, where her zipper was dipping a bit low.

“You’ still fucking that mover?”

Her neck nearly broke as she was taken aback by the question, her face remaining stoic and unwavering. Instead of getting upset, she pulls the bag back towards herself as she dismisses, “Do you know what shoe size Sai is?”

He doesn’t seem phased by her not responding to the question, leaning himself against the wall as he shoves a hand into his pocket, “She’s a ten in kids, I’m well aware of my daughter’s shoe size.”

His eyes once again stroll down her body, “Small feet like her mom.”

“Congratulations on knowing that,” she flatly says, “Sai’s just washing her hands. She’ll be out in a second.”

He pushes himself off of the wall as he walks towards the table, sitting himself down, “So this is where you spend the money you got from the divorce, huh? Painting mugs and ashtrays?”

“It’s a good profit to take care of Sai,” she tells him, “She enjoys it here just as much as I do.”

He laughs, leaning back into his chair, “Well at least she’s enjoying it,” He says, before adding, “Because I know I’m sure as hell not paying for you to sit around and play with clay all damn day.”

She blinks at him, before she turns around and goes back to her cleaning. She really didn’t give a fuck about his conversation right now.

She then hears his mouth open again, “I’ll be bringing Sai back a day early, me and my fiancé are going out of town for Christmas.”

That however makes her halt. She turns her head as she frowns, “What?”

“I’m taking a trip with my girl for Christmas. Gonna show her a nice time. We’re gonna be in Florida, in the keys.”

“You’re engaged six months after our divorce?” Her frown becomes deeper, “I haven’t even been out of the house for three months.”

He rolls his eyes, “We’ve been separated since last holiday. I’ve been with her since before you moved out, and I proposed to her three months ago. She’s my future. What, you expecting me to be pining over your miserable ass?”

She could take a lot of his beatings. But this particular conversation was viscerally pissing her off. She turned to fully look at him, raising an eyebrow as she questions, “Who the fuck is miserable?”

He stands to his feet and crosses his arms, “You’ve been sulking over being a single mom since we’ve been separated. I’d actually be surprised if you kept the next nigga you’re fucking on. You’re pathetic. Why do you think you’re here, playing with paint and clay in a tiny ass studio?”

His words were hitting her harder than she expected them to. Saying these harsh things to herself was one thing, but hearing them from the person that caused most of her misery was deafening. She hated that she was about to cry. But this was anger, and she wanted to become violent.

She takes the duffle bag that holds her daughter’s items, chucking it at him as she spits, “You can wait for Sai in the car. Get the fuck out.”

He catches the bag, the items in it falling out in the process. He laughs, “It’s like you never even left the house,” He walks closer to her, “You think you’d be less of a miserable bitch after two months on your own.”

“You sound like an ignorant ass nigga right now. I’d advise you to back up before I put you in between this fuckin’ table and work station,” she threatens, uncaring if tears were coming in her eyes. Her hands were shaking.

“Your new nigga gave you some balls or something? Now you’ can talk to me crazy?”

She was entirely too angry to see anything else at this moment. So angry that she didn’t even hear the bell jingle atop of her studio, Nathaniel in the way of the door.

Her eyes peer into the doorway, seeing Toji standing there, eyes immediately narrowed, clutching his fist along the bouquet of flowers he holds.

“You’ good?”

The question echoes in her mind, almost like a replay of a situation they had before. She blinks in between the both of them as she says, “I’m fine—“

“You know I wasn’t asking you, Stoney.”

He tries to be as respectful as possible when it comes to her ex-husband for the sake of Sai, but walking in to see him standing over her, he couldn’t hold his mouth this time.

Before she can give a reaction, Toji drops the flowers within his hand, his face nearly able to burn the skin off of Nathaniel as he continues, “Nah, fuck that.”

He’s fast, incredibly fast as he’s already making his way towards Nathan, which makes Stoney’s eyes go wide, panicked as she flies around him to grip Toji’s arm, not expecting him to have this reaction.

She holds him as she confirms, “I’m fine, okay? I’m fine,” she confirms, only wanting to diffuse the situation.

Toji knocks his head down to look at her. He looks back up at Nathaniel, who’s still standing there with a look of annoyance on his face, but something else within his eyes. Hesitance.

His jaw clenched as he relaxed a bit, her touch feeling like it’d been forever, almost wanting to thank himself for the cause.

“I’m good.”

Thankfully, Sai appears, seeing her father as she greets, “Daddy!” Excited to see him, jumping up within his arms.

Toji looks down at the child, his features instantly softening as he sees the girl in her father’s arms. Seeing her cheerful smile, she had no idea of the tension in the room.

Nathan gives her a soft kiss on the head, “Hey, baby girl. You’ ready to do some Christmas shopping?”

“Yeah!” Sai says with a big smile, her arms going around his neck for a hug.

Stoney clears her throat as she gently pulls Sai in to kiss her cheek, leaning down to quickly pick up her stuff that's fallen out of the duffle she’d chucked at Nathaniel, “Let Daddy take pictures of you, okay? I wanna see you having fun with him. And call me if you need anything, okay?”

Sai smiles at her mom, and nods in reply, giving her a little wave, “Okay, mommy! Love you!”

Toji watches as Stoney gives her daughter attention, seeing her pick up the items on the floor. He leans down, picking the stuff up with her, taking the bag out of her hand as he reaches it out to Nathaniel.

Nathaniel is still just glaring at Toji, who was waiting patiently for a reaction. Nothing. No talking goes into Nathan taking the bag from him.

Sai’s sweet voice waves, “Bye, Mr. Snake Man!” as they exit out of the studio.

Toji gives the kid a little wave, and puts on a small grin. When they exit completely, his jaw finally unclenches, taking in the sight of Stoney. It was like seeing her again for the first time.

“You okay?”

He looks down at her fingers, watching how they shake from the previous situation. She’d been crying. Toji brings a palm up, grabbing her hand, unable to stop himself from just wanting to comfort her.

“I’m fine.”

“Quit lying to me.”

She pulls her hand away, “What’s with the flowers? How’d you even know about the studio?”

He wants to re-clench his jaw from her pull away. This was his second time seeing her in two months, and she still had her walls up.

“You ran off on me at career day. I didn’t know Sai went to school there.”

“Well—you know now,” she dismisses, turning as she begins cleaning up the rest of her studio. She can feel him following behind her, even beginning to pick up items himself to help her clean.

He continues, “Serena told me about the studio before I left career day. I ended up asking Sai if she needed more flowers in her garden, she said you had pulled some of the Hibiscus’. So—I thought you needed some more,” he takes the bouquet off the table, reaching them towards her.

Her eyes narrow down at the flowers, “Fucking Serena. Of course,” she presses her tongue within her cheek, turning away to gather the mats off the table.

His dark grey eyes don’t leave her, watching as she walks around, trying to keep herself composed. When she refuses to take the flowers, he takes them back, setting them on the table, but not taking his eyes from her.

“You gonna cut your sister off for giving me the name of your studio?”

“Serena couldn’t hold water in a bucket if a gun was to her head,” she retorts, scanning his attire, his overalls and wife beater showing he must’ve been at work, “I don’t need the flowers.”

“Are you upset about what I said to Nathaniel?”

She sighs, halting her steps, “Toji. I didn’t need you to play bodyguard. I can fight my own battles with him.”

Toji leans his forearms down on the table, veins flexing as he watches her pause her steps, finally looking him in the eyes again.

“I know you can handle your own battles with him. I know. But he’s a fuckin’ prick. Needs his fuckin’ skull bashed in, I see the way he makes you feel. He hurts your feelings.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow at him. He then says, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t tryna impose.”

“Well you did. Why are you here, Toji?”

“I miss you.”

She now raises both eyebrows, “You had two months to get over me. I think you’ll survive.”

“I can’t. So now what?”

She looks up at him, tilting her head slightly as she says, “Look, you did your big one, okay? Let me give you my sob story about my past relationship, fucked me, but we’re both grown as fuck. You don’t know me, and you enjoyed yourself. Why can’t we just leave it there?”

“That’s what you think? That I just wanted to fuck you?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know. But I have a life to make for myself and my child, I’m not tryna bring you into my bullshit. Seeing what just happened was enough to understand that.”

He comes even closer to her, feeling his body temperature rising, his eyes not leaving hers.

“You think I’m gonna let you write me off that easily? You think I can’t handle whatever you throw at me? Like I’m weak or some shit?”

“I never said you were weak.”

She feels her own body wanting to pull closer to him. Her heart thumps in her chest as she tilts her head up to look at him, able to smell his scent.

He then says to her, “My birthday’s coming up.”

She gives him a fake smile, patting his arm as she says, “Hm, Happy early birthday then. Hopefully you can find some girl to bounce her ass on you,” she goes around him, focusing back on picking up the work mats.

“I’m cool off that, I’d rather you be the one bouncing your ass on me.”

She scoffs, huffing as she turns towards him, “Why are you still here?”

“I want you.”

“Okay?”

He moves as she moves, refusing to let the space between them become too much. His eyes follow her as she tries to go around him, his scarred lip twitching.

She raises an eyebrow, “Is something funny?”

“You’ not even gonna ask me what I’m doing for my birthday?”

She sighs, pausing her movements again.

“What are you doing for your birthday, Fushiguro?”

“Taking you wherever you wanna go. You deserve a real date.”

“Toji.”

He raises an eyebrow as she says his name like that, clearly frustrated with him.

“What? You’ done being stubborn now?”

“I’m tired of playing chicken with you.”

“So tell me where you wanna go then.”

She squints, letting out a sigh as she begins to walk past him, sarcastic as she says, “I’ve always wanted to see Rome, Italy for Christmas. It looks beautiful there.”

“Rome, huh?”

His eyes watch her ass as she walks past him, wanting to follow her anywhere she went.

“I’ve heard the food is good as fuck, too. I’ll book the tickets tonight. You’ got three days to pack.”

Her entire body halts. She turns towards him as he begins walking out of the studio, “I was joking, Toji.”

When he’s still walking, she begins following after him, feet scrambling to catch up with his large strides as she alarmingly repeats, “I was joking!”

He then turns back to her, jaw clenching as he says, “I’m about to be thirty-three, Stoney. Imma’ grown ass man. Do you think I’m playing about you?”

She steps back a bit, hearing the seriousness in his tone. She then says, “I think you’re hard headed as fuck.”

“You can cuss me out on the plane. You’ need my card to go shopping?”

She quickly says, “No,” as he’s already pulling it from his wallet, ready to hand it to her.

He raises an eyebrow in response, “What, money scares you too? Damn, I thought it was just snakes.”

“Funny, jackass,” she snatches the card from him, “Now you’re finna’ go bankrupt.”

He leans in closer to her, his jaw clenching as he smiles down at her—the bastard was sexy.

“I got more money than I need. I’m greedy as fuck, you know that.”

“Goodbye, Fushiguro,” she finalizes, lightly pressing his chest, backing him out of her studio.

“You sure you don't want a goodbye kiss?”

“You can kiss my ass,” she tells him, quickly pulling away as she closes the door to the studio, waving at him through the glass panel.

He raises his hand up, doing a little wave back, knowing she can see the smirk on his face through the window. She has to hold back the small smile that comes to her face as he looks almost like a child, nearly tripping as he makes his way back to his truck.

She trips as she makes her way over to her phone, going to her emergency contacts as she immediately dialed her sister's number.

“You better be dying, Stoney. I am laid up playing General Hospital, and I do mean that in the nastiest way.”

“You’ll be dying cause imma’ kill you! He’s taking me to Italy, Serena.”

“WHA—HUH?!”

𝓐ᥫ᭡

THREE DAYS OF PREPARATION WAS OVERWHELMING. She bought mostly black attire, flimsy, sexy, but she refused to admit that any of it was to get his attention. She’d even had Serena take out her sew-in—wash her hair, blow it out, and replace it with all new bundles. New makeup, shoes, even new scents of perfume. She felt ready.

She watched as he placed her two suitcases in the back of his truck, “Think you packed up your whole house?”

She sighs, “Well one is my clothes bag, the other is my hair and makeup bag.”

“Hair and makeup bag?” He repeats, “You didn’t need a whole bag full of that. You look good enough already.”

“Quit flirting. Oh—“ she pauses, pulling the dark green

Telfar off her shoulder as she reaches in, “Um—I got you your cigarettes. Thought you might’ve needed some. But you can’t smoke them on the plane, okay?” She raises the box in her hand, “The guy told me there’s organic tobacco in these.”

His eyes run up her form, taking in her frame dressed in a black hoodie and sweatpants set, matching Toji’s attire accidentally. Her edges swirled along her forehead as she had in an orchid claw clip, freckled face covered by her glasses, skin coaxed by the cloying scent of her vanilla perfume.

He slowly grabs it from her fingers, inspecting the label, “Organic tobacco?” He says with a smirk, “You tryna make me healthy, now?”

“Maybe,” she says softly, “You’ ready to go?”

He looks back to her, seeing an almost doe-eyed look within her face, genuinely concerned for his health. She was cute.

“Been ready for three days, baby,” he grunts, reaching for her hand, “Come on,” opening the passenger seat of his truck, “Sure we don’t need to add your ass as a third check bag?”

“Boy, hush.”

She leans her head along the window, watching out as they pass the city. The nervousness she had was gone, but she felt…hesitant with him.

Her head came up as she saw them pulling behind the airport, raising an eyebrow as she questions, “We aren’t flying with the airport lines?”

“Nah, I chartered a private plane. Caught an alligator out of a client's backyard, said he could give me the hook up—gave me a decent price on a jet.”

Her eyes glanced at the cream colored jet, seeing as workers began making their way towards his truck as she questions, “And how decent was the price of a jet to Italy, better yet—how big was the gator?” She frowns, blinking in surprise.

He watches her eyes gaze up at the jet, looking to the workers as they approach, “Big enough. Don’t ask too many questions.”

She rolls her eyes, watching as he pulls a cigarette from the box she’d gifted him. She gives a polite smile to the workers that begin unloading his truck, opening the door as he steps out to smoke.

She comes around as she almost pouts like a child, “You said you wouldn’t smoke on the plane.”

He takes a hit from the cigarette, releasing the smoke from his mouth as he leans against the side of his truck, “Never said that shit. Plus, I thought these were supposed to be healthy for me?”

She sighs, “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

He wraps his arm around her neck, pulling her forward with a chuckle as he blows out the smoke. She wasn’t used to a man being so…playful with her, making her feel like she didn’t have to be so aware and parental. She could relax.

He blows the smoke into her face to tease her, watching as her nose crinkles up and she waves a hand in front of her, attempting to disperse the toxins.

“You’re cute as fuck when you’re annoyed.”

“And you’re annoying when you’re…annoying.”

He raises an eyebrow, “That’s what you came up with?”

“I’m going to the plane!”

She begins making her way towards the jet, waving politely to the workers as they open the door for her, ignoring Toji as he calls, “I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave!”

Pulling through the small door of the jet, the size of it made her nervous, this being her first time in one. The seats were big and luxurious, wine glasses and fruit along the small section they had holding food and drinks. She felt a bit overwhelmed at the effort he’d put in.

She sat with a space between Toji as she wanted to lay down, having her arms wrapped around her legs. But the moment they began takeoff, she frowned lightly at how fast the jet was moving, scooting herself closer to him, her anxiety now a bit on the higher scale.

“Scared?”

“What, are you gonna make fun of me cause I’m not a big fan of planes?”

“Why would I do that?” he questions, solemn to his voice. It makes her feel almost embarrassed, like she assumed something out of him.

She exhales, “My bad,” pulling her hands along her arms, feeling herself becoming colder.

“Don’t start that apologizing bullshit. You could’ve just came closer,” he mutters, grabbing her waist and pulling her close to his lap, her head now resting along his legs, his palm almost too warm as he rubs the skin between her thighs and ass.

It makes her take in a bit of breath, still trying to get used to his touch all over again. The minute he pulled the blanket from behind the chair while still rubbing her cold skin, her eyes felt heavy, and she felt extremely comforted by his touch. It wasn’t long before her lashes met with her cheeks.

He looked down at her—the way the sunlight from the window streamed off her face, her long lashes, freckles igniting from the light around her head, cascading along the skin of her shoulder, her breathing a melodic tune.

Fuck. He was becoming addicted to her all over again.

She didn’t realize how long she’d been asleep. When her eyes opened again, she noticed as her arm pulled around his stomach, face deep within his abdomen as she slept. His hand had instinctively made its way to the back of her head, stroking the back of her neck, rubbing lightly at the skin.

“You’re always so warm,” she says softly, burying her face back into his lap, “Like I have two blankets,” she hums.

He chuckled, letting his hand go from the back of her neck to her waist, his hand now rubbing her ass through her sweats as he looked down into her now opened eyes.

“You’ still tired?”

She shakes her head, “No,” then looks up, seeing as his eyes are focused along his phone, a video playing as she asks, “What you’ watching?”

“NFL highlights. I put money on the Eagles to win today. They’re losing. I’m about to flip the plane upside down.”

“Oh god, you’re already starting to act your age. Checking sports at random times of the day. Should I start calling you Grandpa?”

“You could call me something else.”

“Never mind. You’re still a child,” she rolls her eyes, “How far are we now?”

“We’re still about an hour out,” he looks back to his phone, “Why? You’ got somewhere else to be?”

“Mmm, maybe. Might find me a sexy ass Italian man and run off with him—“ he’s already leaning his face down close to hers, making her giggle as he grunts at her words, “Yeah, okay. You can run off with him if they find his body.”

The last hour before they land, he can see her becoming more comfortable with him. It’s a side of her that he hadn’t gotten to see before. She sits up, changing her entire position as she straddles his lap, pressing pecks along his jaw, wanting to touch him in any way she could. His eyes were still along his sports as she used him as her own personal playground, allowing her to pull the hairs off his arms, scratch the scalp of his hair, even plucking his eyebrows at one point. He didn’t mind any of it.

The moment they hear the pilot go over the intercom of the jet, Stoney leans over at the window, peering down at the overhead of their destination—Rome, Italy.

The sight of the overhead lights of the city, the way the sunset beamed through the sky, he could see the way her eyes lit up in awe. The moment they land, they’re met with the chauffeur as he places their bags in the trunk of the Cadillac Escalade, making their way out of the airport.

She peered out the window as they drove into the city, the roads small, bricked cement along the ground, pastel buildings and infinite amounts of greenery everywhere she looked. The vehicle glides through the crowded streets, the sounds surrounding them in a buzz. Horns were going off constantly and people walking along the sidewalks, their voices blending into a constant hum.

When they pull into the driveway of what essentially could be a villa, Toji tips the chauffeur, hopping out of the truck as he pulls their suitcases onto the ground. Stoney looks up at the Mediterranean styled home, glancing down at the stained glass double doors.

The moment they make it inside, a beautiful marble and hardwood space is made up of open-concept. The living room is surrounded by large windows able to see out into the streets. The kitchen is made out of a beautiful white stone, a large island sitting in the middle with a dining room table in the next room. Two doors lead into the bedroom, a vintage look to it, champagne comforter set with a fancily carved headboard, long golden curtains high along the ceiling, leading to a spacious balcony.

Stoney’s eyes couldn’t find one place to look. She’s so distracted by the beauty of this house, she’s pulled away as she feels a pair of arms sneak along her hips, feeling his breath along her neck, holding her close to him.

She sighs, rubbing the skin of his arm as she tells him, “How are you trying to impress me on your birthday?”

He chuckles against her neck, the feeling of his lips against her skin sending shivers down her spine as his chin rests along the curve of her shoulder. One of his hands slowly travels over her hoodie, gently tracing the skin of the side of her abdomen.

“Don’t gotta impress you, baby. Just trying to make you comfortable. You’ comfortable?”

She nods her head as she breathlessly replies, “Mhm,” before she then adds, “You should go shower. You still haven’t told me how you wanna celebrate tonight.”

He hums against her skin, his lips slowly caressing her neck in an open mouthed kiss, “You’re tryna avoid me.”

The laugh that comes from her lips is forced, awkward even. It was as if they hadn’t already been together on the drive there, the plane ride, all of it. But they were here now, in this intimate space, and maybe that intimidated her a bit.

She squeezes his arm tighter as she lies, “No. I just take forever to get ready and think you should go first. Womanly shit. And—I’m hungry,” she adds on, turning towards him, lightly pulling away as she gives him a smile.

He could see the unease in her eyes, and that familiar shyness that would always take over her. He nods his head as he lets her pull away, keeping a hold of her hand, a subtle understanding in his eyes, “What do you want for dinner?”

“I’d ask you that, birthday boy,” she brings her arms around his neck to make sure she wasn’t being awkward, “What are you in the mood for?”

“You really wanna know what I’m in the mood for?”

The question seems innocent, but she knew it wasn’t. She was blushing hard enough. When he chuckles at her slow blinking at him, she sighs out, “Toji…” hearing his amusement as he brushes his nose against hers, finally allowing her to breathe as he pulls back to go shower.

He turns to make his way down the hall to the bedroom, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll be done in twenty minutes, don’t set the house on fire while I’m gone.”

Her eyes follow him, the way his back muscles flex as he peels the hoodie he wears while walking towards the bathroom, nearly tilting her body to follow him with her vision.

She mindlessly replies, “….Okay.”

God.

It was starting to become a game of cat and mouse. The only thing was, Stoney wasn’t sure which part she played. He came out of the shower with a towel wrapped along his hips just begging to fall, his large arms reaching up as he dried his dark hair, muscles flexing along his stomach with every move he made, tattoos almost moving with him.

All of the thoughts she had smacked her upside the head like a brutal fight, driving her insane. She moved around him as she went into the bathroom.

She took her time on her hair and makeup, wanting to look as good as possible. Her dark hair was pin straight, layers prominent within the dark shine of her tresses. Her lashes create a cat-eye, dark liner in her bottom lid, a mauve and a dark brown mixture along her lips. Even if she’d gotten the approval from her sister, she felt…strange in her dress.

It was sexy, purposeful to catch someone's eye. The black silk somehow clung to her frame, but still had a flow to it, spaghetti straps along her shoulders, lace clutched along her breast, nearly showcasing the brown of her nipples if you looked close enough. The left side of it had a slit all the way to her hip, giving the illusion that she wore nothing under. She pressed her lips together as she pulled her hair behind her ear, tilting to the side as she checked herself out.

Her eyes then follow over to the open door, seeing as Toji’s frame now stood there, suit clutched to his figure as it fit him perfectly. His tie was still loose, buttons open from the top as he was getting himself ready. In all of that, his jaw visibly tightened at the sight of her.

“…Is it too much?” she softly asks.

He walks up behind her, his hands trailing over her hips, watching her face in the mirror through his darkened gaze. His eyes roam over her frame, taking in the lace along her chest, the skin of her neck.

“Turn.”

She turns towards him with a breath, the sound of his voice making her want to vibrate. She squeals as he places her along the counter of the bathroom, holding him as if she would fall.

“Please say something else before my brain explodes.”

He chuckles, his hands clutching the skin of her legs, fingers running along her thigh, going under the silky material of the dress. He could practically feel her skin trembling underneath his palms as he looked over her.

“Christ, baby,” his voice comes out raspy as his eyes roam over her body, his fingers gently squeezing her thigh. “Shit is almost criminal at how good you look.”

She exhales at that, “You okay with the dress?” Her eyes glance back and forth, seeing that the question almost confused him.

“If you’re asking whether or not I give a fuck about you showing your body, the answer is I don’t. I know how to fight,” he tells her, his words making her giggle a bit as he gives a kiss to her neck, trailing up her jaw.

The moment she feels him close to her lips, she pulls his mouth back as she questions, “Need help with your tie?”

He lets out an amused huff as she pulls his mouth away, trying to distract herself. He smirks a little as he answers, “I’m grown as fuck. But yeah, do it for me.”

She wraps her fingers along the silk as she begins tying it around his neck, rolling her eyes as she says, “I’m aware, you’re six years older than me. That’s like fifty-thousand years.”

“Very funny.”

He watches intently as she ties the tie around his neck, her fingers touching the silk, making sure it was proper.

He smirks a bit as he asks, “You’ gonna be a smartass all night long?”

“Anyways, I couldn’t find much on the restaurants close by, the more local places seem to not be searchable. It also looks like we’ll have to walk a bit to see all the pretty stuff. Ooh! I see the Colosseum isn’t too far away, and apparently around this time they have a big Christmas tree next to it! I wanna take a bunch of pics for Sai to see,” she smiles, “And then there’s this beautiful church with all these paintings of angels on the ceiling, and you can take pictures of it!” She’s rambling, buttoning up the top he wears beneath his suit jacket.

She halts herself a bit, pulling back her fingers as she says, “Sorry. We can do whatever you want first, of course.”

He watches her ramble on, a small smile on his face as she listed out the things she read about and that piqued her interest.

“I wanna go wherever you wanna go, baby,” he tells her, his voice coming off a bit softer than usual, “You’re the one excited to see this stuff, so let’s do that first.”

God, she hated being soft with this man. To hear him sincerely tell her that, she closes the final button on his suit, trying to hide her smile as she girlishly replies, “Okay.”

“We gotta go soon before we don’t leave. You look too fuckin’ good in this dress right now.”

“Down, boy,” she giggles, watching as he pulls on her Christian Louboutin ballet heels, giving a kiss to her feet as he ties the satin along her ankles. He pulls her off the counter with a smack to her ass, grunting as he kisses her forehead with a, “C’mon.”

Seeing the sun set along the city was a sight. It seemed like the night made it wake up from its daily slumber, bodies crawling along the brick ground as she led the way. Her eyes traveled along the pastel colored buildings, the smell of food, music strumming from musicians along the street, windows freely open from neighborhood apartments.

It’s almost as if love fills the air. She watches as people sit on the outside, kissing and touching one another in romantic forms, continuing to pull him past a lit up flower shop—she can’t help but slow down. Her eyes fall along the pastel pink petals, yellow within the middle of it.

She gasps softly, “They’re Lotus flowers…”

He stops as soon as she pauses, his eyes going to the flowers that caught her eye. The petals looked pristine and vibrant, so much as if they’d been grown out of magic. Seeing how she carefully touched them, almost as if she’d break them in two, they looked like the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

“You like them?”

“They’re pretty,” she smiles gently, “Sai would love these in our little garden.”

“They’re yours, then. Take as many as you want.”

He’s already at the register, propping a cigarette in between his lips, beginning to exchange the cash he carried for euros with the cashier as he pulled out his wallet.

She tilts her head, pursing her lips, “Don’t be funny, Toji. How am I supposed to get flowers across the country?”

“I’ll hire an entire fuckin’ army to deliver them if you need me to.”

She sighs lightly, holding the bouquet close to her chest. She thanks the cashier as he smiles, standing against her heels as she presses a kiss to his cheek, “You’re such a sweet bean. Sai will love these.”

He huffs a bit at the kiss on the cheek, her lips feeling impossibly warm against his skin.

“Yeah, okay,” he mutters within her ear, kissing her cheek back, “Let’s go.”

As they continue walking farther down, she spots a restaurant across the bridge. Christmas decorations hang all along the tent of the building. She clutches his hand a bit tighter, using her other hand to hold her bouquet as she turns to him, “Can we go to that one?”

“We gotta get on a boat to get to that one,” he mentions.

Her eyes fall down into the water, seeing a man sitting on the end of a thin canoe, swaying the paddles idly. She raises her eyebrow as she says, “Boat? That shit is small as fuck. How isn’t he flipping on that?”

He chuckles at her response, “You never seen a gondola?”

She narrows her eyes, “Oh, so you think you’re better than me? Why you’ know what that is? You fucked a bitch from Italy or something?”

He blinks slowly at her, playing along as he replies, “Yeah, my passport’s stamped as hell.”

“Oh, well how about you call your lil’ foreign hoes to come celebrate your birthday? I’d rather swim than get on a canoe with you!”

“Gondola.”

“Whatever the fuck!”

She waves politely at the man, taking his hand instead of Toji’s as she steps down onto the navy blue boat. Her heel makes her wobble a bit, the feeling of the water making her tense as she sits along the bench, taking a deep breath as they become situated.

The moment they began moving, she could feel everything beneath them, including the water swaying. These moments seemed romantic enough in movies, but right now, it was kinda terrifying. The moment the paddle had the entire boat sway, she placed her flowers along Toji’s lap, gripping the end of his suit jacket as she exhaled.

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“Even after you were just talking shit?”

She goes to talk more shit, the boat teetering, her mouth clasping shut as she grips him tighter, laying her head against his shoulder as she nearly whimpers, “Toji.”

He sighs, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her even closer, “You’re good, momma. Sai will still have a parent by the end of this boat ride.”

She nods her head, keeping her eyes fluttered closed. He then says, “Unless…”

“Unless what?” her head peaks up.

“Every night in my dreams—I see you, I feel you…”

She blinks, “You are not singing the Titanic song right now. You’re not funny. You’re just not,” she pouts, hiding her face within his shoulder.

They finally arrive along the other side of the street, Stoney beginning to walk faster until she makes it to the restaurant, finally accepting Toji’s hand, following the host who sits them down.

“I’m not talking to you for like five minutes,” she huffs, placing her flowers against the extra chair, “That was mean.”

“I see where Sai gets that pouting shit from. It’s cuter when she does it.”

Stoney rolls her eyes, taking the menu and smacking his palm with it, “Say you’re sorry.”

He rubs his hand where she smacked, “Damn,” he mutters, before letting out a sigh, “Apologies for scaring you on the gondola, my lady.”

She smiles, “It’s okay. And stop smoking,” she reaches over to pull the cigarette from his mouth, his entire body conveniently moving back, opening his legs a bit as he manspreads along the chair, continuing to puff his cigarette.

She hated how good he looked in a suit. The moment he orders a whiskey as she orders a crown and Coke with lime, her eyes glance over him again, patting her fingers against the table.

“I had some questions for you,” she says, her slender eyes sparkling under the lights.

He shifts in his seat, taking another drag of his cigarette, the smoke slowly leaving his lips as he raises his eyebrows, listening intently.

“Go ahead.”

“Mmm…well, where are you from?”

He places the cigarette in between his fingers, bringing the whiskey glass to his lips as he takes a small sip, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Tokyo,” he simply says, his voice coming out a bit huskier than usual.

“Why come to the states? Were there no reptiles to wrangle out in Tokyo? Or someone that needed help moving?” She questions.

He chuckles a bit at her words, shaking his head as he answers, “No one was willing to pay me what I wanted. Started helping a friend move boxes, and decided I wanted my own company. Ended up helping a family get a snake out their house, it piqued another interest. Is this an interview?”

She rolls her eyes, “This is a date, we have to get to know each other!”

“My fault. You’re right, pretty. Continue.”

“Hm…so Japanese was your first language?”

He hums as his eyes roam over her, watching her take sips of her drink, seeing the way the lights in the restaurant made her skin glow gently.

“Yeah,” he confirms, setting his glass back down onto the table, “Didn’t learn English until I was thirteen. Took a while to learn, shit was hard.”

“Tell me something,” she asks him, leaning more forward on the table, “Japanese is pretty. Wanna hear it from your mouth.”

His lips curve up as she leans forward on the table in front of him, her eyes looking intently. He doesn’t hesitate in his response, his voice coming out deeper, the language sounding more intimate, almost as if it were being spoken only for her to listen to.

“Anata to sekkusushitai,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on hers.

She blinks as his voice lowers, tilting her head as she questions, “Gonna say it in English now?”

“Tell me what you think I said,” he offers, his tongue running along his lip before he grabs his cigarette, taking another puff.

“Something you ain’t have no business saying,” she squints, “I knew you didn’t like me. Cause you don’t wanna tell me! I’m not your type. Do you even like black women?”

He raises an eyebrow, “So that’s what we’re doing now?”

She crosses her arms, “Well, yes! I mean, do you? How do you know how to handle a black ass situation? What you’ gonna do if you’re fucking me, and you’re pulling my hair too hard that my wig comes flying off? Cause that can happen!”

“Shit, guess I gotta start pulling at your braids then.”

She presses her hands over her face as she squeaks, “Ah! Nooo. You did not just say that. I’m about to faint,” she fans her face, ignoring the full on laugh that comes from him.

“That’s not what you wanted to hear, huh? That I’m gonna grip—“

“Please stop. I beg.”

“Well, don’t question how I feel about you then. You should know that shit by now.”

They then order their food, Toji noticing as Stoney constantly checks the flowers beside her, gently touching them every few seconds.

He raises an eyebrow, “Think they’re gonna fly away?”

“I’m just tryna think how I could preserve them for Sai. She’ll be so happy.”

His jaw clenches a bit at the sight of her beaming, wanting to be as close to her as possible. Instead, he keeps his hands to himself as he then states, “Talk to me about Sai.”

She blinks, “About Sai?”

Taking another puff from his cigarette, his eyes don’t leave her face as he nods in response, “Yeah, your face lights up every time you say her name. I wanna keep that up.”

The sentence makes her a bit warm, but she knows how happy the thought of her child makes her. She says, “Well, she’s been doing really good since she started school. She gets along with the other kids, and she’s inviting them to have a sleepover for her birthday. I’m not sure what theme she wants, I think Minnie Mouse but then she said that all the girls at school right now like BRATZ, which shocked me, considering that was the thing when I was younger. She likes Hello Kitty too, but I think she might’ve outgrown her a bit. I’m tryna get her to like Strawberry Shortcake, cause I love that brand and want an excuse to buy a bunch of shit.”

She heard herself talking and talking, pulling herself back a bit as she lightly laughed, “Yeah…but she’s—she’s great. She’s happy to be with her dad for Christmas, even if he isn’t my favorite person in the world.”

She slows down on her continuation, noticing the way he stares at her. She raises an eyebrow, “What?”

“Nothing.”

He takes another drag from his cigarette, his eyes never once leaving hers, “Just seeing how long I could keep you talking. Your voice is prettier than fuckin’ angels singing.”

Her heart flutters a bit, eyes pulling away as they place the pasta with meatballs along the table, the large heart shaped pepperoni pizza making Stoney want to dreamily sigh like a princess. She watches as Toji digs the spoon within the plate, swirling the utensil in between the noodles and placing it towards her mouth. She immediately opens in response, pulling the food in, humming as it tasted delicious.

She groans, “Either this is too good or I’m just starving.”

“Probably both. You were too busy acting like you didn’t fuck with me to have a meal before we got here.”

He takes his thumb to wipe a bit of pasta sauce from the corner of her mouth, “You’re making a mess, momma. Don’t need you crying that your dress is ruined.”

As she feels him wiping sauce off the side of her mouth, the buzz of her cocktail creeps its way in. It’s like all of her alcohol had suddenly shot down between her legs. She was a lightweight, unfortunately.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have leaned forward, grabbed his finger, wrapped her lips around it and began sucking the sauce off herself. Her feline eyes see his jaw tighten, blinking innocently as she questions, “Am I clean?”

“Chill. I’m tryna’ be good.”

She giggles, pulling herself back, her eyes becoming low as her voice is more smooth, “Think my little drink is catching up to me.”

There’s that damned laugh again.

He groans as she pulls back, her voice going a bit lower, a new sultriness to it that makes his pants a bit uncomfortable. He runs a hand through his hair, shifting in his chair before muttering, “You’ good, pretty? Need some water?”

She shakes her head, “Mmm, no. Just want your hand, like when you rub my leg.”

He lets out another soft chuckle, his lips curving into a smirk. Taking another drag from his cigarette, he puts it out in the ashtray on the table, watching the smoke slowly leave his lips. Instead of putting his hand on her leg from under the table, he lifts her heel from beneath it, placing it along his lap as he begins rubbing the skin.

“Like this?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “You’re such a sweetie to me. Look so handsome in your suit.”

“Nothing in comparison to your dress. You’re tryna kill me.”

He looks around, seeing on the opposite side of the tables that a group of people stand around, dancing to the relaxing music a band plays not too far from the restaurant.

He then asks, “When’d you open up that studio?”

“Not too long after we stopped talking,” she replies, playing with the straw in her glass, “My ex-husband always said my pottery business would never become more than chump change. So, I made myself a studio. Make decent money, too. I’ve never been so happy.”

“He‘s a fuckin’ idiot,” he comments, his voice coming out rougher. “Should’ve never doubted you. I’m proud as fuck of you, baby.”

Something in his words makes her eyes twitch. It was like a damn breaking within a River, a sentiment she hadn’t felt before. Her eyes glance over to the people that dance, turning back as she reaches out for his hand, ��Come dance with me?”

Despite having two left feet in his mind, there’s no universe in which he would ever turn down an offer to be close to her.

“Drink some water, then we can go,” he pulls the cup towards her mouth.

She waves him off, “I’m fine, Fushiguro. Jesus. I just feel a lil floaty, a cocktail did not put me on my ass. Everything just feels better at this moment, so I’m happy. Dance with me,” she repeats, standing as she yanks the larger man by his arm.

He doesn’t budge from his seat. With a sigh, she reaches for her water, sipping it heavily, watching as he then stands with a grunt, “Hard headed ass,” now pulling her to where the other couples stand, wrapping his fingers along her waist, satisfied with the way she brings her arms around his neck.

She can feel the way she presses all of her weight against him, so comfortable in his arms that his grip is the only thing keeping her from falling backwards.

She sighs, “So, thirty-three—how do you feel about that age? Do you feel…accomplished in life?”

“Thirty-three’s cool,” he answers, his voice coming out lower, “I’m more interested in thirty-five. But at the moment, I got everything I need.”

“What’s everything to you?”

The soft hum of music surrounds them, but all he can do is focus on her hair brushing against his skin, looking more captivating in the lights of the restaurant.

“I’m a business owner,” he replies, “Got a roof over my head, support in areas I need it. The only thing I’m missing is my stubborn ass woman to share that with.”

That sentence makes her clutch his suit a bit, unable to let the tipsiness that battles the sobriety of her mind ask questions she usually wouldn’t.

She then asks, “Why do you want me, Toji? I mean—I have a kid, a shitty ex-husband to constantly deal with. Your life seems…nice. No turmoil, no one else’s baggage.”

“That’s your fuckin’ problem. You don’t see yourself the way I see you,” he grunts, his eyes looking almost darker as he continues to speak, “The way you ramble when you get excited, the way you laugh, the radiance you spread regardless of the shit you’ve gone through. You’re under my skin. You’ll be adding years onto my life.”

She blinks up at him, a sharp inhale quiet in her mouth at his words. She had been trying to push this man away all this time, and he wasn’t giving up. He had shown her an affection in close range that she’d never experienced before— there was no reason to be afraid of him.

“…Solaya.”

She sees him raise an eyebrow, continuing as she says, “That’s…my real name. I don’t usually give it out—it’s a rarity,” she rubs her finger over his jaw, giving him a vulnerability she hadn’t given anyone else.

Her words sink in, her name falling from her lips. She was giving him a part of her. He leans down to take in her scent—a mixture of the flowers surrounding them and that intoxicating vanilla.

“I want you. I’ll chase you to the ends of the fuckin’ earth, Solaya.”

He grips her up more, her heels now coming along his shoes, twisting her around so that it makes her giggle, it being filled with so much sincerity. She leans her head up, pulling him down closer as she admits to him, “I want you too,” brushing her mouth along his jaw, her breath hitching at her own actions.

The moment he lowers his face, his mouth engulfs hers, trapping her within a kiss that made her feel like her head had been ducked in a bucket of water. His lips move with hers in a way that overpowers her mouth, kneeling her head back as he practically claims her within his actions.

Their lips move in sync, his hand gripping her jaw as he tilts her head back further, his tongue running along the flesh of her mouth. The air seems to suffocate them.

She pulls him back, her face warm, pressing her forehead against his as she breathlessly giggles, “We’re in public, Fushiguro.”

It almost made him growl like an animal as he’s brought to reality—but he didn’t want to push. And to see the rush of blood on her cheeks, he pulls his mouth up to kiss her forehead as he grunts, “Let’s finish eating.”

Her comfortability now opened tenfold, talking his ear off in ways she’d never done before. He was there to listen to all of it. They’d finished their food, traveling back across the water where their villa met. She was now back to being full on tipsy, considering she had drunk some of his whiskey, knowing that the mixture would create an entirely different personality within her own. She was bold, talkative, and relaxed. Though, her feet did hurt.

Toji had given her his socks so she wouldn’t walk along the ground barefoot, holding her heels and flowers in his free hand, his other holding hers.

She grumbled as she took another step, “Ugh—fuckin’ expensive shoes should be comfortable.”

He stops walking, chuckling as the villa wasn’t too far ahead, “C’mere, pretty.”

“I’m fine—“ once again, she squeaks, unable to fight as he’s already swooping her up in his arms, now carrying her bridal style.

“You don’t listen.”

He finally makes it to the door of the villa, tossing the keys along the nightstand close to it. She pressed herself back on the ground as she tossed the socks off her feet and took off, squealing, “I wanna see the sky tonight!”

“You just wanted me to carry your sneaky ass, huh? Talking about your feet hurt.”

She finally gets to the balcony, pulling the doors as the cool night air brushes along her skin. Night had come, the stars above illuminating the stars, and the moon glowing so beautifully that it was almost hypnotizing. With soft waves in the water, the breeze was just perfect.

She feels a clutch along the back of her dress, his voice husky as he states, “You’re gonna fall.”

“I’m fine,” she repeats, “Look at the moon!” She wraps his arms along her hips, wanting to feel his touch, “Isn’t it pretty?” She hums, leaning herself back against him, almost in the same position they were in earlier within the day.

“Ain’t as pretty as you, momma,” he mutters, nuzzling his face into her hair, taking in her sweet scent again.

“Being corny comes with the old man syndrome?” She questions, lightly laughing to herself, falling deeper into his chest.

He murmurs, “Being a smartass comes with that young woman syndrome?” His thumbs lightly caress against her skin, his breath fanning just beneath her ear.

She goes to answer—but the way his hands trail under the slit of her dress, wrapping his fingers along her inner thigh, she can’t seem to focus.

The alcohol within her system has her trail her hand up behind herself, wrapping it to the back of his neck and pulling him down to where his lips meet her throat.

“…I like when you kiss me here,” she says, her voice soft, quiet.

He lets out a sharp inhale, his lips skimming along the skin of her throat, not yet making contact, “Where?” he asks, his voice low, “Here?”

He presses his lips gently along the side of her neck, right along the flesh that she pulled him to. It makes her clutch him a bit tighter, the throb going in between her legs as her skin now feels sensitive to the touch.

She nods her head, biting her lip lightly as she exhales, “…Yeah.”

His lips continue to trail against that same spot, sucking and kissing against her neck lazily, leaving spots of red along her skin. He murmurs between kisses, “Talk to me. Tell me where else you’ want my mouth.”

His touch was like no other, and the desire for him was aching at this point. It had been so long. She pulls her hair along one side of her shoulder as she leans forward a bit and whispers, “Lower…”

His lips attach to the skin of her back firmly, “Yeah?” he asks, his voice low, “You want my mouth all over you, huh?”

Her body shudders as he presses his hand along her lower body, pushing her forward a bit so she has to lean against the balcony’s architecture. The straps of her dress are falling off her shoulders, revealing more of her back to him, her body almost tantalizing, moving like sultry choreography.

It’s almost as if something in her clicks, and she realizes that she’s along a balcony, the fear of someone seeing them giving her a reality check. It makes her face warm, her eyes fluttering open a bit as she turns back to him, “Toji—“

Her mouth clasps shut, his palms moving like fire as he pulls her dress up to her hips, yanking the lace of her thong, dragging his tongue up the entirety of her. She latches her palm along his hair, nudging herself forward as she stands on her toes, gasping all the air she had in her chest. She was speechless.

Her face screws up at the rush of pleasure that comes through, the feeling lost as she hadn’t been with anyone in months. She whimpers, “F—fuck. Wait—”

“Been patient as fuck, baby. Just take it,” he tells her, his tongue slurping in between her folds, lapping her up like she was the last thing he’d ever eat.

He groans deeply as his tongue delves between her thighs, savoring her taste and scent. He grips her ass firmly, kneading the supple flesh as he laps at her clit, growling against the heated skin.

Her back arches into him, her brain going fuzzy as her eyelids come together, the gasp that pulls from her lips nearly deafening, trying to push his mouth away as she whimpers, “We’re on the balcony, Fushiguro…”

The sound of her whimper sends a jolt straight to his dick, already hard and straining against his pants. He doesn't care about the balcony; all he can think about is making her feel good. He continues his assault on her pussy, licking and sucking recklessly.

"You're fuckin’ drenched," he growls against her soaked folds, "Relax. Need you to gush in my fuckin’ mouth," His hands move to her hips, pulling her harder against his jaw as he devours her.

He doesn't stop, can’t stop, his tongue swirls around her clit before sucking it between his lips, giving it a gentle tug.

Arousal drowning him within the ocean of her doesn’t feel like enough. He needs more. He spreads her apart, dipping his tongue deep inside her, the intrusion making her walls clench, Stoney slapping her hand along her mouth as she trembles out a moan. She feels him hold her thighs apart as he exposes her to the cool night air. The contrast only serves to heighten her arousal, and she cries out, her other hand flying deeper into his hair to keep him in place even as she tries to pull away.

"Toji... please..."

Toji's growl rumbles deep in his chest as he drinks in every drop of her, coating his tongue in her arousal. Her pleas, begging for release, only fuel his hunger for her.

“Take your hand off your mouth,” he grunts in between, knocking his head side to side, his nose practically burying in between her legs. He’s almost drunk, intoxicated by her scent, loving the way she drips all over his face and jaw, wetter than she’d ever been for him.

She slides her fingers in between her lips, shaking her head as she whimpers, “Gonna be too loud.”

"I don’t wanna hear that shit," he snarls, his breath hot against her pussy as he sucks her clit back into his mouth, “Ride my fuckin’ face,” the vibrations sending shivers through her trembling body.

She bites down on her fingers, muffling her moans as best she could while still trying to ride out the intense pleasure coursing through her veins. Her thighs begin to quake, her toes pressing harder as she stands on the tips of her feet, pushing her hips further onto his face, grinding herself against his eager mouth.

His words are filthy, crude, but there's no mistaking the desperation in them. He needs this, needs her, more than anything. And judging by the way she's trembling, the way her juices are still dripping down his chin, she needs it too. But covering her sounds was starting to piss him off.

He pulls his mouth back, Stoney feeling as he raises himself up, the intensity of her state keeping her body humming regardless of his missing touch. She’s too floaty to realize him wrapping his large arm around her neck, trapping her almost within a gentle headlock. She thought he was trying to kill her.

His mouth is against her ear, heavily breathing within it, the sound making her heart pound in her chest. She’s unable to see but could feel the monster between his legs, her thighs immediately wanting to tighten as his pink tip nudged at her folds, stretching her out before he was even close to being inside.

She’s already protesting, wanting to claw out of his hold, clutching her hand around the arm that holds her in place. He uses his free hand to slam his palm against her ass, Stoney shuddering out a gasp as she drags her nails against his skin, Toji tugging her even closer as he tsks, “Nuh-uh, quit all that,” sinking himself within her, bruising her walls in seconds, the sensitivity sending her in overdrive. She can feel her eyes welling with tears all too pleasurable, feeling as he locks his hips forward, dragging her ass back to clap against his abdomen, the sounds of her gushing like a faucet shocking to her own ears. She inhales deeply for seconds, shuddering out the craziest whine she’d ever heard come from her lips as tears fall down her face, feeling herself going into shock as she pushes back against him, squirting as if they’d been fucking for hours.

“Yeah? You’ cumming like that already?”

He’s holding her in place, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, nearly breaking skin as she drags her nails down his arms, crying in repetitions, “I’m c—cumming, oh m—god,” nearly wanting to be mad at him for the arrogant laugh that drops out his mouth.

He growls into her ear, "You’re makin' a fuckin’ mess,” The wetness seeping down his dick making every thrust slicker, allowing him to plunge deeper each time he pulls his hips back, rocking them forward.

He coos in her ear regardless of the loud noises she makes, “You’ cumming, baby? Yeahh, I hear it,” He grips her ass tighter, spanking her hard enough to leave marks, determined to keep her babbling.

She’s completely out of her mind. She thought about it often, having this pleasure again— it was embarrassing to see how much she needed it. Needed him.

“Pussy missed me, baby,” he grunts in her ear, her eyes tightly shut as she groans, her skin bouncing against his hips sharply echoing within her mind, the cream of her arousal stickily spreading each time he thrusted in. It was creating more and more, she felt like she was going blind.

“Tryna’ keep her from me, who else is gonna fuck you like this?”

He’s in her brain, punctuating his words with each thrust. He leans in, capturing her ear as he kisses it, her whimpers and moans high pitched. He can feel her pushing back, sucking air into her mouth, her face caught into a frown from how good this all feels. He tightens his arm along her neck, coaching her through as he talks, "Doing good as fuck, momma. Take every inch.”

His grip on her hips tightens, using the leverage to piston into her harder, faster.

She reaches her free palm behind herself, pressing it along his hip and squeezing, whimpering immediately as he catches it, pulling the hand behind her back. She’s panting at that point, but giving no actual responses. He spanks her again, which drops a pleading moan from her mouth, rougher in fucking her as softly cries, “Baby…”

She’s just trying to get through the movements he gives her, feeling like she can’t. It’s too good. But it’s also unfortunate how badly he wanted to hear her voice.

He releases her from that jail of a position, now possibly putting her in a worse one. He’s holding her upright as she now faces him, one leg draped over his shoulder, the other foot barely touching the floor. He’s got her pinned against the railing, her chest pressed against his, her throat constricted between his palm, needing her attention.

“Put it in,” he grunts.

Maybe she was right—he was actually trying to kill her. She attempts to pull his mouth down to kiss him, face warm as she didn’t want to keep seeing the stoicness of his expression. The scar on his lip twitches, as if he's amused by her shyness. He’s already slapping his tip against her clit, making her jump as she’s trying to catch her breath.

She wraps her fingers along the tip, exhaling as she sinks herself down onto him, clutching the back of his hair as she pouts, “…You’re tryna make fun of me.”

He smirks at her accusation, enjoying the way she clutches his hair as she sinks down. He can feel every inch of her enveloping him, her walls clamping around his length as he arrogantly huffs, "Nah, just looking at your pretty ass face," pulling her hips back, tugging them forward, chuckling within her mouth, swallowing her desperate pleas as he tells her, “Fuck me. Take my dick however you want it.”

She’s breathless as she grinds herself against him—eyes fluttering shut, unable to handle his reaction to how she whimpered and whined for him. She was mewling at this point, her body pliant within his grip.

Her inhales are almost concerning, clasping him as if she feared that he’d let go of her. She rocks her hips down, pulling him up by his hair, pressing their foreheads together as she whimpers, “Nobody’s…ever made me feel this good…”

Her words almost wreck him.

Toji groans against her, his touch almost brutal as she pulls him closer. He feels the urge to have her all to himself, to be the only one to make her feel this way. To be the only one to take her apart.

“Yeah? How good?”

“So good,” her words are soft in cries as he latches his lips along her neck, “S—so good,” she repeats, mouth coming back up to his, breathless in her responses.

Their lips press together gently, his hands moving to grip the back of her thighs in a possessive clench. He then takes her other leg to lift up, placing them both over his shoulders, Stoney quickly latching her arms around his throat, holding her fingers together in her palms.

The sounds are filthy as he’s dropping her onto his dick, eyes rolling inside her mind to search for her sanity as they were in this tapout position, listening to the sound their skin makes together, Stoney’s mouth dragging out a desperate moan.

“You heard me fuckin’ talking to you.”

He circled back to his words earlier, balls becoming drenched with her arousal, squelching between their skin as the back of her thighs clap along his abdomen.

He repeats, “Who is else is gonna fuck you like this, huh?”

A hard thrust comes at the emphasis of his word, bottoming out inside of her, holding her close as she claws to be freed from him. She drags her nails within his back, pitiful in her sounds as she breaks, “Ohshi— fuck, baby—” she’s gasping, “I don’t know.”

"Don't know?" He mocks, punctuating each word with even more hard, deep thrust, “You know.”

He leans in, his hot breath ghosting over her ear as he growls, "Pussy been mine, you’re too fuckin’ hard headed,” Another brutal thrust, his hips snapping up to meet hers, "And you love it, don't you?"

She’s sobbing at this point, too full of a deadly pleasure he fills within her veins, knowing just how she wanted to be fucked. She cracks, shuddering out whines as she nods, “Love it so much, baby, f—fuck. Take your pussy, baby. Fuck me. Please. Please…”

She pulls him closer, pressing their foreheads against one another as she softly says, “Missed you so much, Toji…” she’s hiccuping, her tears fluttering her eyes, seeming like they came from more than just pleasure. They were honest.

At her whispered confession, something shifts in Toji's expression. The lust is still burning in his eyes, but there's an underlying tenderness, a depth of emotion he rarely allows himself to show. He cups her face, thumb brushing away a tear as he murmurs, "Missed you too, momma. More than you know,” His voice is rough with unspoken feelings, the admission heavy in the air between them, tension being cut each time her clit gets a rush of pleasure from how deep he plunges inside of her.

He holds her gaze, the intensity of his emotions palpable. Then, without warning, he captures her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all those hidden sentiments into the passionate embrace. His tongue delves deep, claiming her mouth as thoroughly as he claims her body.

"I'm never letting you go again," he declares, his voice thick with conviction.

She gasps at his words, clinging back to his hair again, pulling him lower as she sighs, “I’m so sorry, I…” Her abdomen tightens, fighting against her words, “I’m cumming, I need you…”

At her desperate plea, Toji's resolve crumbles. He knows he should slow down, savor this moment, but the urgency in her voice is too powerful to resist. With a primal growl, he reclaims her mouth in a bruising kiss, burying himself so deep within her, she screams, attempting to cover her mouth, Toji snatching her palm, clutching her jaw back into his mouth, allowing her to fall apart against his lips.

As she gushes against him, Toji loses himself entirely, his own release rushing in a way he didn’t expect. He pounds into her, chasing his own pleasure with low moans as he drinks in her cries of ecstasy. The sound of skin slapping against skin, their ragged breathing, and her broken moans fill the room, creating a symphony of raw, uninhibited passion.

Toji finds his peak, his vision going white as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through him. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, muffling his moans of release against her skin as he pours everything he has into her. His eyes meet hers as she finally opens them, a look of vulnerability that shows the craving is mutual. His hips jolt, still pulsating inside her, prolonging their shared climax as he reaches up to clutch her hair in his fingers, pulling her mouth against his, forcing her into a nasty kiss. He wasn’t planning for her to go anywhere, and she wasn’t planning on going anywhere. He was gonna fuck her as many times as she wanted it, adore her as many times as she needed it—she was his. And so he did.

Again, again, and again.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji imagine #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji fushiguro jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x black character #toji x reader #toji x black reader

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backwzzds · 11 months ago

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absolutely need a plug!zoro cheating on his gf with u nsfw …

no bc y’all are on a roll w these plug!zoro requests! position is based off this video btw 😩

ೃ⁀➷ what you want, roronoa zoro

thinking about the way that man would literally hate his girlfriend fr. like, he’s sure he’s only with her because his family loves her, but he just doesn’t. and i mean he proves that when he ends up outside your door in the middle of the rainy night, somewhere around 3 AM.

everyone would always ask him—why not just break up with her? and zoro never had an answer. his girlfriend was too fragile of a person and he hated that crying shit honestly. the only person he ever cared about making cry was ironically you.

his relationship was anything but secure. zoro was chill with whatever his girlfriend did. he trusted her, at first. she wanted to go to a party, he’d let her. she got a ride from some guy friend who was maybe his level of attractive? he didn’t care. but the same rules didn’t apply to him. zoro could be getting ready to go to work and his girlfriend would be up on him with accusations.

“i feel like you’re gonna go and fuck that bitch,” his girlfriend spat with venom, referring to you as he slid on his jeans. the green head couldn’t help but roll his eyes as she rambled on about disliking you. he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself lightly when he realized how crazy she was behind closed doors.

“well now i’mma go do that just cuz’ you said it,” he muttered, just trying to get underneath her skin. his girlfriend thought he was bluffing, but not with the way blood rushed to zoro’s dick at the thought of just being in your arms to cuddle tonight.

zoro doesn’t think twice either when it comes to pulling up to your crib. he parked in front of your cute little car, something he did to express his dominance over you in the way your cars together looked like a ‘his and hers’ pair. he was weird like that, but that’s just how much he felt for you fr.

by the time he gets to your door, his heart is already thumping in his chest. not in fear of getting caught, but instead at the sight of you in your tiny nightdress, two sizes to small to barely contain your wide hips and busty breasts.

you give him a blank look as you leaned against the threshold of the door. “ian call you for no weed.”

zoro gives you his million dollar smirk. “you should know that’s not the only reason i come over anymore.”

“yeah yeah to cheat on your girl, sure zoro,” you roll your eyes.

the green head kisses his teeth, “not cheating if i don’t want her.” with a step to the side, you helplessly let him in, and he wastes no time in kissing your lips. “missed you so damn much.”

“missed you too,” you can’t help but mutter against his lips. zoro wraps his hands around your waist and pulls your smaller frame against this larger own. his hands shamelessly wanter down to the fat of your ass as he grips it, giving it a reddening smack and repeating his actions.

zoro pulls away with one last peck to your lips. “how was your day mama?” he grabs your hand and drags you to the couch.

“fine,” you muttered with a bored expression, grabbing the remote to turn on the tv.

zoro furrows his eyebrow and snatches the remote from your hand. “what’s up wit’ you? you okay? talk to me.”

you shrug your shoulders. “i’m straight,” but your tone wasn’t convincing him otherwise.

zoro gives you a suspicious hum before pulling you into his lap. “what you doing tomorrow night?”

“probably homework,” you admit. “why?”

zoro can’t help but grin at you, flashing his gold canine pieces. “got us tickets to see that standup you been wanting to go to.”

your eyes can’t help but brighten at his words. “you lying.”

“i’m so deadass,” zoro laughed.

you kiss your teeth and slap his chest. “you don’t even like comedy!”

the greenhead gives you a shy shrug with a small blush flaming his tan cheeks. “they have an open bar, free sake so,” with a playful roll of your eyes, you kiss your teeth but smile. “so you gon’ stop giving me this bratty ass silent treatment?”

“whatever. you’re a whore for sake.”

“nah,” zoro shakes his head. “you ain’t hit me all week. you know what i had to go through not talking to you.”

you give him a sarcastic frown before pecking his lips. “aw, poor baby.” you move to pull away but are shocked when zoro grips your face and forces you back into his orbit.

how you found yourself half naked on his lip with your legs spread for him—you don’t know. damn mosshead was just that good.

“i got you,” zoro’s voice is all you hear as he steadies you on top of him with your back facing the tv. his one arm is all he needs to steady your body against his lip while he uses the other to start rubbing at you clit. “just touch me baby.”

a breath escapes from your throat as you find the courage to wrap your hand about his hard cock. his tip is an angry peach color as it oozes out pre cum, already excited from your touch. “like this daddy?”

“fuck, just like that mama,” zoro’s own breath hitches in his throat as he fights not to buck up into your grasp. “love the way you touch me. just like that baby. make me feel so safe.”

you’re almost shocked by the words leaving your mouth as you continue jerking him. the two of you hold an intimate scope of eye contact as you touch each other’s body, nothing being heard but the soft moans and breaths from your arousal.

“make you feel safe?” your voice is soft and sultry as you run your thumb over his tip. zoro can’t help but groan at his sensitivity, too late to even catch himseld. “feel safe when im loving you like this papa? you like that?”

“oh fuck, yes,” zoro whined, fully submitting to you. his girlfriend had never seen this side of him. every time he had sex with her, if he ever did, it was quick and to the point. no one was able to milk out this soft and vulnerable side to him but you. oh how you had his fucking heart and dick in the comfort of your pocket.

your legs are spread in front of zoro, giving him a complete view of what you were working it. somehow wanting to see you spread more, he grabs you by your thighs and opens you up more, practically salivating at the sight of your pretty clit glistening from his touch.

“you make me feel safe too,” you breath out with a blushed smile, trying to keep your pace with jerking zoro off. it was hard to do so when he was rubbing you nice and slow, just the way he knew you liked it.

at this point? it was all more than sex. zoro meant every word he uttered out, especially how you made him feel safe during his most vulnerable moments. only you bought this side out in him.

“fuck i’m almost there, zee.” you throw your head back and grind further into his touch.

“me too baby,” zoro breathed out, watching as cum oozed from his tip by the second. “you fuck me so good, no one does it like you—shit.”

you lick your lips as you lean over and spit on zoro’s cock, adding more lubricant to your already slippery movements. “like it when i stroke your fat cock papa? like this?”

“zoro bites his lip and nods his head. a whine fights to break through from his mouth as he lets out a broken “mhm. fuck, mama. keep going and you’ll make me cum.”

you take this as a challenge and speed up your movements with hopes to overstimulate him. zoro’s mouth falls open, and the tables inevitably turn when he’s shaking beneath you, watching you milk every drop of cum out of him. you hold your tongue out as he shoots his load upwards, droplets of his semen landing on your taste buds.

a greedy smile graces your lips as you continue jerking him off, more and more cum flying out from his sore tip by the second. “fucking hell—just like that just like that, fuck!” zoro moans loudly as he feels himself get drained.

you didn’t mind the fact that he came before you this time. watching this hard man come undone before you was enough to have you creaming all over his fingers right after. you too begin to breathe heavily as zoro maintians his circular movements against your clit.

when you’re both fucked out from your intimate session, zoro slides you onto his lap, your clit begrudgingly grinding against the base of his still hard dick. with his face in your neck, he breathes out, “i’ll break up with her. your eyebrows raise at his words. “if that’s what you want.” you waste no time in giving him a stern response.

“it is what i want.”

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ichnit3 · 4 months ago

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NEW POST!

@/LUUVNANA: HE’S SUCH A DAMN PERVERT!

(not stolen just old work from my last blog)

The thought of him tracing his hands down your curves while he goes down on you, eating you out with no breaks as your hands try to push his head away. “no more please!” gets him excited. he would find every excuse in the book to stay.. “just one night!”, “we have been drinking and i don’t wanna drive drunk”, “let’s have a sleepover! i’ll cook for you”. Once he hears that yes he knows it’s show time. If y’all were drinking he would stumble over to wherever you were lay his head on your lap and start caressing your leg to set the “mood” before drunkenly kissing your lap and trying to convince you to take them off.

“It’s too hot baby let’s take it off.. I don’t want you to pass out”. If you took the sleepover option he did cook for you; once he’s done he’ll try to feed it to you and purposely waste it on your shirt so you would have to take it off. while you take off your shirt his eyes stare at your chest as they bounce every time you move. “omg I'm so sorry my love let’s take this off, okay?” (he had that sick perverted smile) He convinced you to let him stay? he goes for the shot, pushing you up against the wall of your place. “you look so.. fuckable..” hell this man is SUCH a PERVERT.

but lemme stop cause we ALL know im fucking him after im done with this 😜 cant wait for him to fuck me soooooo good😩

#luuvnana: posted!#x black reader #x reader #x chubby reader #aot smut #onyankopon x chubby reader #connie smut #aot onyankopon #eren smut #armin smut #jean smut #jjk smut #gojo smut #nanami smut #geto smut #toji smut #toji x chubby reader #armin x reader #eren x black fem!reader

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sweetlikemonie · 4 months ago

Text

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

word count: 1.3k

content warnings: 18+ minors dni, early morning off the wake up sex, choking, unprotected sex (wrap it up), cream pie, dirty talk, use of mama, mami, baby & daddy twice (2x), connie refers to your pussy as “she” once.

author’s note: a drabble (that was rushed and got a bit longer than intended), loosely based off this tweet as well as an experience of mine cause i miss him 🥲 decided to go with connie for this. first post tho lmk how y’all like it lol.

You stirred awake at the sound of Connie’s 4am alarm, signaling he had to leave soon. He was always on the road doing whatever he did for work, but never missed the opportunity to push up on you when he could. Though you were awake, you could still hear the faint snoring of him behind you. You hated when those damn alarms woke up everyone else but the person they were supposed to.

“Con, your alarm.” You reached your arm back to push at his chest, though a feeble ass attempt because you were still half asleep. It must’ve worked since you felt him turn over to hit the snooze on his phone, before feeling his tattooed arm wrap around your shoulders, and the other your waist; pulling you tight against his chest.

“Morning mama. You sleep good?” His deep voice spoke against the side of your neck, placing a small kiss where his face rested. You nodded as you whispered back, “Good morning. You woke me up.”Feeling your skin heat up at the sound of his morning voice. He didn’t have to do much of anything to turn you on, he could be making himself a sandwich and you’d immediately feel a wetness pooling in your underwear. And it was definitely mutual, Connie was infatuated with you. He would live in your skin if he could.

Your hips started to shift as you rocked back against his pelvis, flashbacks of just a few hours earlier with his face between your legs hitting you like a pound of bricks. His free hand pressed moved slowly from your waist to the outside of your underwear, groaning to himself softly at the feeling of how damp and warm they felt. He loved how you were always so wet for him.

“I’m sorry mami.” He kissed at your neck again, his hand trailing slowly down your chest, fingers tracing your nipples, and his neck kisses turning into slow sucking. “What’re you doing? Don’t you need to leave Connie?” You spoke through low moans, trying to navigate all of the sensations at once. You felt him literally everywhere.

Connie chuckled lowly, pausing at his assault on your neck. “I gotta be in you before I go. I feel you pushing back on me baby, just lift that leg up for daddy.”

You do as you’re told, lifting your leg and wrapping your arm under your thigh. Connie released himself from his boxers, his morning wood standing tall and thick hitting against his stomach.

His dick was just as pretty as the rest of him. Tan at the base and shaft, with a slight pink tip that burned red whenever he was hard as a rock. He wasted no time as he slipped inside of you, the stretch was painful but oh so satisfying. It had been a minute since y’all had last seen each other, but he knew you’d get used to him in no time.

Connie’s hips rocked in and out at a slow pace so you could feel every vein and inch he had to offer. A hand came to wrap around your neck, the restriction of airflow causing you to grip his girth tightly. His lips rested against the side of your neck. “I missed digging this pussy out. She always gets so fucking sloppy for me.” He grunted, you were literally dripping down his dick, your wetness starting to fall on your thighs the more he fucked into you.

Your eyes were shut in pure bliss. Moans and whimpers slipping out of your mouth quietly, you tried to not make too much noise but you loved talking nasty to him back. It made him nut quicker and fuck better.

“You making me feel so good baby. R-right there.” His hand reached around to toy around with your clit, rubbing slow but rough circles that begin to make your head spin.

“Yeah? Don’t hold back from me.” You could hear him smirking behind you before he swiftly pulled out. You huffed at the sudden loss before you felt him turn you to face him and lift both of your legs to your chest, the pudge of your tummy and the fat of your pussy peaking through the little sliver of space between your thighs. “Hold them hands right there and look at me.” He spoke lowly, your eyes flicking up to his intimidating gaze.

Connie held your eye contact for a few seconds before he looked back down at your pussy, letting a big glob of spit fall from his lips to your clit. He immediately pressed his tip against your clit, stroking back and forth making you to throw your head back.

Plat! Plat! Plat! was the sound of his spit and your slick mixed together as he repeatedly knocked the head of his dick against your clit. “That feel good don’t it mami? You want it?” You nodded your head, with a bat of your eyelashes and bottom lip in between your teeth. “I want it baby. I want you in me so bad.” How could he say no to that face of yours?

He slipped in again, a loud hiss leaving his mouth as he eased into your wetness. He wasted no time as his pace quickened and deepened in you. His hands rested on the back of your thighs, pushing your legs against your chest so you had no choice but to take his harsh and deep strokes. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you, lips touching the outside of his ear. You could feel yourself getting closer to your climax and you wanted him to hear every bit of it.

“I’m gonna cum daddy. All on that dick.” You muttered lowly, licking the shell of his ear. You felt Connie shudder inside of you, his pace faltering just for a second before he got back in his zone. He began angling his hips, planning to reach a spot deeper inside you, he refused to let you one up him. “Yeah? Finna make a mess? Wet me up I wanna feel that shit. ” His hand gripped at your jaw, lifting your head up to bring your lips to his. He kissed you sloppily, tongue darting out to swipe across your bottom lip.

You felt a pressure building up in your stomach, you were so close you could taste it. His hand found your clit again, rubbing steadily at your clit, sloppy kisses being placed on your neck. He drilled relentlessly at your g-spot.

You panted heavily, your hands gripping tightly at the sheets. “Fuck baby! M’cumming!” You cried out, back arching off the bed, your eyes fluttering as you creamed all over him. It was the hardest you had ever came.

He continued his pace, the feeling of you clenching against him so tightly triggering his release sooner than he planned. “Shit pretty. You gone let me cum in that pussy? I don’t wanna pull out.”

You nodded mindlessly. “Gimme that nut baby.” You don’t know what came over you. Sex talk was definitely dangerous and put you in sticky situations but you’d think about the consequences to your actions later. All you cared about in that moment was feeling everything Connie had to give you.

It was all the confirmation he needed before he gave you a few more strokes, each one getting more sloppier than the last, letting you know he was close to cumming. “Ah s-shitttt!” He hissed lowly, shallowly stroking as he released the rest of his load into you. He pulled out of you slowly, watching his cum pour out of you right behind him. You both lay there limp and naked, panting softly as you came down from your highs.

“Am I forgiven mami?” Connie broke the silence after a few minutes. When you didn’t respond immediately he glanced over at disheveled appearance, chest rising slowly as you snored slightly. He chuckled as pulled the covers against your body. “Put that ass to sleep.”

#𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚—connie’s journal entry #aot x black reader #aot x black reader smut #connie x reader #connie smut #connie x black reader #connie x black reader smut #aot smut #aot x reader #x black reader #x black reader smut #connie x reader smut

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 9 months ago

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the five stages | f. odair

masterlist

summary: a journey back to a golden period of time of polaroid pictures, white knitted sweaters, and lively sea-green eyes. why? because in the present, those same pair of eyes are ruthlessly unrelenting and you have no other chance of their escape.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: heavy angst, vomiting, implied smut, depression, maggots, hallucinations, relieving fluff, mild horror. I don’t want to spoil the story too much, so I won’t be adding any more warnings, sorry y’all. this could be very triggering so please read at your own discretion. some descriptions are quite graphic!

notes: I’m super proud of this one—it’s sorta based off “little talks” by of monsters and men and “on the nature of daylight” by max richer. this fic probably won’t get many views, so I’ll be incredibly grateful for any—if any at all—type of engagement! <33

word count: 8k

The bedroom was cold; dark; empty. Empty even though I still resided in it.

My alarm had gone off two hours ago, yet I hadn’t moved an inch. When I finally turned my head to the side, I found that the space beside me was vacant. Cold; dark; empty—I reached out my hand anyway.

Thirty minutes passed before I wrestled myself out of bed and started making breakfast downstairs. The otherwise warm and flavourful plate of fruit-filled yoghurt and scrambled eggs on toast left my mouth feeling dry and my throat lodged.

It used to be one of my favourite meals. At least, when he was around.

Dishes were piled in the sink, dirty and untouched. I sat on the couch, pondering whether today was the day I would finally get to cleaning them. It wasn’t. I couldn’t. We always did that together. I wondered—if I left them in the sink long enough, would he return? Even just for five minutes to help me put them away? One month and seventeen days had passed, and yet I still entertained this thought religiously.

I wasted an hour running circles round the same contemplations before deciding fresh air, as cliché as it was, might do me some good.

Grey clouds concealed the sun’s warm golden light when I stepped outside, but that was fine—I didn’t like anything golden anymore. But he would want me to leave the house at least once a day, so that’s what I would do. I would go down to the beach beside our—my house and feel the sand collect between my toes as I walked to the water’s edge.

But wasn’t that where he was when it happened? Wasn’t he in water? Didn’t those things pile on top of him? Didn’t they sink their fangs into his neck and tear at his flesh until he was blown to…

Bits of egg, yoghurt and stomach bile sat at my feet. My legs buckled, and I collapsed to the ground in a sandy, tear-stricken heap. Since my lower body had refused to cooperate any longer, it took me until midday to crawl back up the dune and to my front doorstep.

Fuck. I needed to rest.

“I need you to rest, sweetheart.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” I whined. “I’m not sick.”

Finnick placed a bucket on the ground beside the bed. The room smelled of lemon disinfectant—a joy I often found in being sick… That is, if I were sick, which I was not. I must have drunk spoiled milk or eaten something bad during breakfast. Nevertheless, Finnick was not having it.

“You’re throwing up everything you manage to get down, and you’re shivering like it’s the middle of winter,” he said adamantly, tucking the comforter up to my chest. “It’s summer, and you’re very much not fine.”

I sat up, ready to heatedly debate the subject, but the room began swirling, and my ears were hissing like a staticky television channel without a signal. A quiet whimper buzzed in my throat as I hunched forward. Damn him, I was sick.

The mattress dipped as Finnick sat beside me. His hand was on my back, rubbing it soothingly as he used his other hand to tuck away the curtain of hair concealing my face. I huffed, half in annoyance, half in an attempt to suppress the nausea rising in my throat, and then sunk back against the pillows.

“Not sick, she says,” he jested, smiling down at me. I rolled my eyes, though unable to hide the weak, betraying smile creeping across my lips. “Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he said, a gentle command. “I’ll see you when you fall asleep.”

The wooden flooring welcomed me with hard, cold arms as I hauled my sandy body through the front door. Images of fangs, bloody flesh, and panicked sea-green eyes flooded my mind.

More breakfast, more bile. No lemon disinfectant.

My knees were folded beneath my body; my body was hunched over my knees. I was sobbing now, so hard that I threw up again (was there even anything left in my stomach at this point?), creating a thick puddle of vomit and tears beneath me. Cries and gasps for air bounced around the house. To call me a mess would be an understatement. I was a disaster. A disaster wrapped up in an unmendable tragedy with a ragged, threadbare ribbon barely holding me together.

And in case I wasn’t aware of this fact, the floorboards were so shiny that they mirrored a reflection of myself. My hair was a being of its own, all wild and unkempt, and my face was another story entirely—a red, blotchy thing I wasn’t too interested in delving into.

But the most unsettling aspect had nothing to do with me, it was that there was someone else in the reflection. Two green balls of light were glowing above my head.

Dishevelled golden hair…

Dimpled cheeks…

My forehead was pressed to the floor as I screamed.

“I don’t want to make you sick as well,” I said, contrarily enjoying the feeling of Finnick’s skin warm against mine, hot blood flowing through his veins.

A day had passed since I first became unwell, and the sickness had continued to wreak havoc inside me.

We were both under the thick covers, our limbs tangled together as he held me atop his chest. (my body didn’t register the scorching summer temperatures. I actually felt as though my core temperature was a few degrees below freezing. Meanwhile, Finnick was characteristically toasty warm. It was perfect for me, but not so much for him, evident in the beads of sweat collecting on his forehead. Nevertheless, he made no complaints).

My body rose and fell with each breath he took. I was trying to inhale whenever he exhaled in a weak attempt to prevent the festering sickness in my body from entering his, and though it was a futile gesture, I did it anyway.

“In sickness and health, remember?” he said.

I smiled. “We’re not even married.”

“Yet, you mean,” he countered. “I plan on spending the rest of my life with you, sweetheart. You know that.”

My heart fluttered at the thought of spending an entire lifetime with him—waking up in each other’s embrace each morning, the warm sunlight peeking through the blinds of our bedroom; Finnick calling me “Mrs. Odair” or “My wife” at every opportunity because doing so made us both giggle like two moronic, love-struck teenagers; and being unable to prevent the deep smile lines on both our cheeks as we age, a constant display of our perpetual happiness.

“Sixty more years of having and holding you,” he continued with a gentle musing in his tone. “For better or for worse... For richer or for poorer.” He then stroked the side of my face and brushed away the sweaty strands of hair sticking to my forehead. “In sickness and in health…”

“…Until death do us part,” I finished, my voice slow with fatigue.

Two fingers sat beneath my chin and tilted my head upward. My eyes connected with Finnick’s. They were soft. Heartfelt.

“Not even then. I’ll love you beyond the grave,” he murmured. Then his lips were slowly curving into a pensive smile. “When we’re both ghosts and haunting the next owners of this house.”

I was now smiling, too. “I’d hoped you would say something like that.”

How could he lie like that? There was no we. There were no next owners. There was only me, alive and alone in a comatose house. And mind you, I was sane enough to know that it wasn’t actually his ghost haunting me, though I wish I weren’t because having that knowledge was even worse. It meant he was truly erased from existence.

“Go away,” I whispered to the reflection on the floor.

He didn’t. His vacant green eyes kept staring down at my crumpled figure.

I shot off the floor and spun around, hot tears streaming down my face. “Go away!” His face remained expressionless. He looked like himself, only colder. “You said sixty more years! You said we’d be together!” I mindlessly picked up and flung a small picture frame at him, only for it to pass through his body and shatter on the floor behind him. “Why did you lie to me?!” My voice was frayed with fury, though underlined with grief.

He said nothing, did nothing. All he did was watch.

My legs buckled, and I was on the floor again. I was whispering, half-sobbing, the same question over and over until the words slurred together. “Why’d you lie? Why’d y’lie?” The only time I stopped was when my tongue grew too heavy to move anymore.

To my surprise, he eventually came and sat beside me, remaining cold and silent—as I too had become.

Glass fragments from the picture frame were scattered across the floorboards. The photo within had fallen out and, ironically, drifted towards me. I didn’t bother acknowledging him as I moved onto my hands and knees and began crawling forward—my palms slicing open and blood seeping out—until the photo was in my hands. My shins had granules of glass pricking into them, but I couldn’t feel the pain; all I could do was stare at the memory in my hands.

The picture had been taken in District Thirteen, a day before he signed up for… the mission.

I was drifting in and out of sleep when a sudden bright flash lit up my eyelids.

“Oops.”

Heavy eyes fluttering open, I was met with a small camera pointing down at me, which was being held up by a lengthy muscular arm, which was connected to an even more muscular and broad shoulder, which was connected to—okay, sorry, I think you get it.

“Finnick!” I shrieked, pulling the covers over my naked figure.

He laughed, the vibrations rumbling deep within his chest, beneath my ear. A soft whirring sound accompanied the polaroid sliding out of the camera, its black film hiding the doubtless embarrassing picture beneath. He placed the film on the sheets beside him, letting the photo develop in darkness.

“I was supposed to cover the flash,” he said, still chuckling.

I rubbed my eyes, which were twinkling with little sparkles of light. “I think you blinded me.”

“Lucky you,” he jested. “You’re finally free from my repulsive exterior.”

I started to reach for the picture beside him—“You’re an idiot”—but then he was rolling us over until his arms were pillared on either side of my head and he was hovering above me.

His hair was a mess, a testament to the night before (and very early hours of the morning), and he was sporting a beautiful, lazy grin. “Yeah? Well, you’re engaged to an idiot,” he said, tilting his head in an arrogant manner. “So what does that make you?”

The sea-glass ring hugging my finger gleamed in the lamp’s dull light as I reached out to touch his face, my fingertips brushing along the edges of his pronounced jawline. Tangled strands of hair and a beaming smile were reflecting back at me in his eyes. No one had ever loved anyone as much as I loved Finnick—disregarding the one exception that was staring down at me.

“Blinded by love,” I whispered.

Brief yet poignant emotion trickled through his features, his eyes. Then, like a flick of a switch, he covered it up and lowered his face into my neck, groaning the words, “So corny.”

My fingers were tangled in his hair, holding him close to me. “Liar,” I laughed. “You loved it.”

“I love you, which is why I put up with your corniness,” he murmured into my skin.

Even after all this time, my heart still leapt whenever he said those three words, even when he was being a jerk about it. I kissed the top of his head. “I love you, too.”

We laid like this for a short while longer—Finnick keeping his face buried in the warmth of my neck, his arms curled beneath my body; me playing with the golden waves of his hair that were somehow softer than my own. He was so heavy on top of me that it was starting to become difficult to breathe, but in no universe would I ever tell him to get off. It was a blissful sort of suffocation.

A sort anyone would snap a picture of just to keep as a reminder of how beautiful it feels to be smothered with love. With that being said, the picture that lay awaiting beside me was brought back to mind.

“Oh no,” I moaned, picking it up and taking a short glance at the developed photo. I covered my face with my hands, repeating the words, “Oh no.”

The photo was plucked from my fingers, and Finnick began humming contentedly to himself.

In the photo, my face had been nuzzled into his bare, muscular chest, eyes closed in sleep-drunken serenity, hair thrown over my shoulder and spilling across the pillow. My hand rested on his contoured stomach with just enough of my upper arm and low light to conceal my breasts. Finnick had a delicate hand draped over my waist. He was gazing down at me with a smile that was just… full of pure love.

I had to admit—it was a beautiful picture. Despite my initial disapproval.

“Beautiful,” I heard him echo my thoughts, his eyes still scanning the photo. Then his brows furrowed, and his head slightly inched forward as though he had just noticed something peculiar in the picture. “Oh, and you are too, I guess.”

My head tilted back against the pillow with an abrupt laugh. I shook my head, looking back at him. “I hate you.”

“Liar,” he said, leaning in closer.

His lips were on mine for what must have been the millionth time in the past few hours. The bedside clock announced that breakfast was soon approaching, though it was clear neither of us would make an appearance within the next hour (or two).

“You love me,” he whispered as he slid inside me.

And I did.

I really did.

The muscles in my cheeks were straining due to how hard I was smiling.

It wasn’t my idea to keep a picture of us half-naked in the entryway of our home. He always was a bit unusual like that. Completely unashamed of who he was and how he acted. Sometimes a little too boisterously, but that’s what I loved so much about him—how confident he was in his love for me, so much so that nothing else mattered, no one else’s opinion.

God, I love him so much.

Love…?

Wait.

That’s not right.

Shouldn’t it be “loved”?

And why was I smiling? I didn’t have anything to smile about anymore. He was gone. Our wedding never occurred. Our faces never wrinkled with smile lines. Our clasped hands never weathered with age. He was gone.

The polaroid slipped from between my fingers. My hands were covered in glass and blood, blood that had painted a dark red splotch in the middle of the shiny film. Figures.

After a short while of staring blankly at the scattered debris decorating the floor, I finally found it in myself to start climbing back onto my feet. My straightened legs wobbled and ached beneath me with the little energy I had. That’s what happens when you can barely stomach food anymore: no energy, always sleeping, always swamped by nightmares or bittersweet memories—at this point, they were one and the same.

Not a strand of gold or a fleck of green was in sight when I glanced over my shoulder. For now, at least. He liked making an appearance once or twice a day.

Pieces of glass crunched beneath my bare, stinging feet as I made for the stairwell. A mess for another day, I reasoned. Just like the dishes. Sticky red footprints stamped each wooden step I ascended, growing less prominent as I reached the second floor.

After taking a right down a short hallway, the encompassing walls littered with magnificent seashells and dried ocean flora, I turned the knob to the furthest room and entered. The floor was landscaped with mountains of clothes which drenched the room in a familiar, all-consuming smell. The scent kind of reminded me of receiving a warm hug, albeit from someone you know you should let go of in more ways than one.

His hair, golden and tousled, caught my eye as I passed the wall of string-hung polaroids in our… sorry, my bedroom. His smile was all dimpled and brilliant, and he had his tanned arms wrapped around my middle. Just moments after the picture was taken, he had tackled me into the water and rightfully earned a smack on the back of the head. In turn, he did it again.

But before that, we were both looking into the camera with the most joyful expressions—huge grins, bright eyes. Frozen in time.

I never let myself look too long at that picture anymore. And I never, ever looked into his eyes. Green used to be my favourite colour. I didn’t have a favourite colour anymore. It was safe to say I didn’t have a favourite anything anymore; everything favourable was a reminder of him.

I picked up a white knitted sweater off the ground and tugged it over my head, staining it with splotches of dark red. Knowing him, he would wear it regardless—whatever was mine, was also his, and was equally the same in reverse, even things as grotesque as blood.

Well, he would have worn it, I should have said.

The sweater had been specifically tailored for him. I remembered how the soft sleeves hugged his arms so well that every fluid curve of his biceps was visible, similar to a building wave before it crested. On me, the sleeves swallowed my arms whole, which I liked to think in their own unique way had also been unintentionally tailored for me, like someone out there knew one day I would need some way to drown in him when he was gone.

Finnick’s fingers tugged at the silk ribbons, unwrapping the opulent gift box that sat on our dining table. Capitol devotees would send extravagant parcels weekly, turning up in abundance on our doorstep. Sometimes Finnick didn’t even bother opening them; sometimes we opened them together just to get a good laugh out of whatever ridiculous item was inside.

He never, though, opened the perfume-scented letters marked with lipstick stains.

“Oh,” I said in surprise as he lifted the lid. Inside was a folded piece of fabric, knitted and cream-white and intricate, though still simple. It was soft to the touch; thick enough to retain warmth. I held it up with two hands, admiring the hand-sewed threads of cotton. Whoever’s handiwork this was, it was nothing to laugh at.

Holding it up to Finnick’s torso, I smiled and said, “Try it on.”

“What?” He shook his head and smiled quizzically. “No.”

“Yes. I think it will look good on you.” I pressed it further against him with conviction. “Try it on.”

He tilted his head and exhaled deeply through his nose, giving me a begrudging, squinty-eyed look. From that, I already knew I had won him over, and watched as he snatched the sweater from my grasp and tugged his shirt off with one hand. I averted my eyes, feeling the tips of my ears flush with heat—we’d been together for over a year now; you would think I’d have grown accustomed to seeing him shirtless.

His head slipped through the neckline and he pulled the sweater down his body. I was right. It looked really good on him. Perfect, actually. The measurements were so precise that the fabric sloped off his shoulders like a compact mountain of snow. The thick-knitted collar dipped into a deep, uneven neckline that partly revealed his chest and made his neck look like a strong, contoured pillar. He looked at me expectantly, as though to ask, “Well?”

“It makes your neck and shoulders look really nice,” I blurted out, instantly cringing inside.

His expression contorted into something of amusement and surprise as he took a slow step towards me. “My neck and shoulders, huh?” he said, grinning devilishly. Oh, now I’d done it. Leave it to me to rocket Finnick Odair’s already atmospheric ego. “Anything else?”

I began backing away, but his prowling strides were so long that the space between us only shortened. When my backside hit the edge of the dining table, I knew I was done for.

“You know,” I began, avoiding his unrelenting stare. “I think it was just a momentary lapse of judgement.” He was closing in now, placing his hands on either side of my body to trap me in place. “It—It actually looks terrible on you,” I said, feigning sincerity and adding a little nod to help further my case.

His eyelids drooped as he gazed down at me, lips curving into that seductive smirk he had mastered long ago. “No takebacks,” he purred, voice low and gravelly. Dear God, I could only pray I wasn’t going to melt into a puddle on the floor. He always did this—took every opportunity to flirt and render me a stuttering, bashful mess. It was his favourite game to play. “This is now my new favourite shirt. All thanks to you, sweetheart.”

But, given the right timing and ever-wavering amount of confidence, I liked to play too.

I inhaled deeply, hoping my voice wouldn’t betray me. “Maybe you should take it off then,” I said, cocking my head to the side. “So you don’t ruin it.”

His mischievous expression revealed his next words before he even spoke them. “Maybe I will,” he said, and then he was tugging his sweater over his head, and I was tearing off my own. As his hands slipped beneath my thighs and lifted me onto our dining table, I prayed the wooden legs wouldn’t collapse under the weight of our next actions.

My fingertips ran over the soft, rippling patterns on the knitted sleeves, my arms crossed in a self-soothing manner. After that day, the sweater had become a sort of good luck charm—or so we agreed upon as we lay panting on the tabletop. He started wearing it to a multitude of events and parties in the Capitol (basically any place in which he needed a pick-me-up, a reminder of what he had to come home to, who he had to come home to).

He even wore it the day we got engaged.

So many happy memories were associated with this one white sweater. So many times, those cloud-soft sleeves were wrapped around my body, suffocating me in the scent of him—if nothing else, at least that remained.

The last time he had worn it was the day of the Reaping for the Quarter Quell; the last time our lives were ever semi-normal. I had fought tooth and nail to reach him before he was escorted onto the train, despite being ordered, “No goodbyes,” by one of the Peacekeepers. In modest terms, I had significantly decreased his chances of reproduction.

When I reached Finnick, he had brought me into a kiss so harsh and fervent that my lips were bruised the next day. He then yanked off his sweater, leaving his upper body completely exposed to everyone around us in complete disregard for his trauma-induced fear of doing so, and shoved it into my hands.

I had just stood there frozen in bewilderment, watching as he called out, “I love you, sweetheart!” Two Peacekeepers were forcing him onto the train, but he too fought for the last word. “Don’t forget—I’m always with you!”

That statement had never been truer than it was now. For better or for worse.

My vision unblurred as I returned to reality. Dismal, grey light was peeking through the shutters that formed the balcony doors, the daylight hours seeming to tick away at a snail’s pace. I used to wish for the days to be longer, for time to move slower, so I could savour the moments I had of happiness and sunlight which used to be plentiful.

Why do wishes only come true when you grow to desire nothing but the opposite?

Slothfully, I crawled onto the unmade king-size bed, my limbs crumpling and balling to my chest as the side of my head hit the pillow. The imprint on the mattress beneath my body didn’t match my own. It was much larger and broader. How long would it take for the springs to forget his body weight and recoil back into place as though he never existed at all?

I inhaled the sweater’s scent with every breath I took (and I tried not to wonder how long it would take for his scent to disappear as well) and hugged my arms around my waist. No pain was worse than the fleeting moments I forgot the embrace was my own and not his.

Hours passed, and so did the evening. A beautiful orange sunset hadn’t slipped through the shutter’s cracks because the clouds never dissipated. Night-time brought no consolation either. Not even the stars or moon made an appearance. Everything that once gave me a shred of optimism was hidden behind a veil of gloom.

I knew tomorrow wouldn’t be any different—the weather, my mood, his absence. Because the end of autumn was closing in, and the days were becoming bleaker. Trees would start shedding their leaves; the leaves would start to die.

I hoped I would too.

I was still curled up on my side, my body aching with stiffness, when my face began scrunching into this ugly, twisted mess of despair. My tears were slow yet heavy, synonymous with the day I had incurred.

But then something strange happened.

Someone called my name.

No. That couldn’t be right. I was the only one who occupied a house in the Victor’s Village; the others had either relocated after the war or were… dead.

But there it was again—my name, distant and eerie, yet spoken with a tone people often used to beckon over and aid a frightened, injured animal. My vision blurred, both from tears and concentration on the voice.

“Hey.”

I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment my surroundings transformed into a kitchen, just that they had and that I was no longer in my bed but standing upright.

Ahead of me, in the distance, the sun was beating down on the crystalline water, and white frothy waves were cresting on the smooth, golden sand. It was a perfect day; not a cloud was in sight. The only blemish that smeared the blue sky was the reflection staring back at me from the window I gazed out of.

In my hands was a soup bowl and a damp dishrag.

“Sweetheart?” That once distant voice, concerned and beckoning, was standing right beside me.

Blinking, I snapped out of my daze and turned away from the window.

He stood tall beside me, despite being half hunched over the kitchen sink and scrubbing the last of the few dirty dishes stacked neatly on the bench top. His head was turned towards me, his enamoured sea-green eyes peering into my own as though he was searching behind them for what troubled me.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, standing up straight. His touch was warm and gentle as he reached for my hand, leaving soapy bubbles on my palm and fingers. “Where’d you go?”

Three odd things seemed to occur at once: first, I flinched away from his touch, overwhelmed by its paradoxical unfamiliar familiarity; second, I felt an inexpressible relief from seeing him standing before me, seeing his cheeks painted with a soft pink hue as though blood-red roses were hidden just beneath his skin.

The third was an onset of disorientation. I couldn’t tell you why I felt disorientated standing in my own kitchen with the love of my life, just, simply, that I did. There was an answer—it was close by, right under my nose, yet unreachable. We did this every day, didn’t we? We would eat meals together and then wash up together. So, why did I feel so unsettled?

I shook my head, dispelling the confusion that muddled my brain. “Sorry,” I whispered. “I don’t know what happened.” I laughed uneasily, without a hint of mirth.

He laughed too, not to poke fun or because he found my obvious turmoil amusing, but rather to comfort me, so I would feel less alone in my unease. “It’s alright,” he said gently.

Neither of us addressed what had happened; we simply resumed our routine of washing and drying in domestic silence. And as seconds turned to minutes, and as the sky remained sunny, I found myself smiling. All that mattered was that he was standing beside me and that the sun was beaming in the sky. So, I kept smiling.

After I finished drying the last dish, we began placing the plates, bowls, and an abundance of cutlery in their assigned drawers and cupboards, weaving past each other and giggling anytime we got in one another’s path. I was carrying a stack of white plates, eyeing the high cupboard they needed to go in, but before I could even attempt straining onto my toes, the plates were out of my hands and taken into another much larger pair.

The smell of sea salt and expensive cologne wafted from behind me as he towered over my shorter frame and placed the plates in the cupboard.

“I could have done that,” I said, smiling as I turned around to face him.

He had a playful glint in his eye. “Yeah, right. What are you, like, four feet tall?” he joked.

It was an extreme exaggeration since I was no way near that height, but I suppose everyone was miniature in comparison to him, being over six feet tall and all. I feigned open-mouthed offence, to which he gave the side of my head a quick, playful kiss of apology.

He then leaned against the counter with crossed arms. “Plus, when was the last time you actually put these dishes away? I’m surprised you even remember where they go.” He was grinning at me in a teasing manner, but every ounce of humour had drained from my body.

My eyes drifted to the floor.

Well, that was the question, wasn’t it—when was the last time I put the dishes away?

I couldn’t remember. In fact, I couldn’t remember what had happened this morning or the day before. Hell, I couldn’t even remember what we were doing before the dishes.

To be standing in a room, in a place you call home, and have a sense that nothing is in its right place, even though that is where everything has always been, is a disconcerting feeling beyond belief. To be perplexed by your own state of being—your existence—is even worse. I could almost describe it as a nauseating bout of vertigo.

My hands found the counter’s edge behind me, and I exhaled a shaky breath.

He stepped in front of me, one large and gentle hand reaching up to cup my jaw. “Are you okay?” he asked, his forehead wrinkling with shallow worry lines as he inspected my face. I hated that. I hated that I worried him so much. Sure, partners were supposed to lean on each other for support in a relationship (as he too did with me when needed), but I always felt so guilty doing so. Hadn’t he already suffered enough… pain in his lifetime? Who was I to cause him any more?

A sunbeam suffused the room, oozing across his face. The illumination lightened his eyes into a refreshing mint green, though, in contradiction, unearthed a pain that had been previously been concealed. Pain from what, I wasn’t sure. From concern regarding my unusual behaviour? Maybe a thought that was troubling him? Or perhaps he too was enduring a spell of confusion and had an inexplicable feeling that he was out of place.

Whatever his pain regarded, seeing it had rattled the deepest structures in which held my mind together.

It was then that I suddenly realised I hadn’t answered his question, so I gave him a wan “I’m-not-too-sure-myself” smile and then began slinking back to the sink window.

He followed behind me. I could feel him staring into the back of my head, could feel his brows draw together and his lips pull into a tight line, patiently waiting for a further explanation, though I wasn’t sure I could offer him one.

I hadn’t noticed before, but on the windowsill was a small picture frame containing a polaroid picture of us in bed—I was lying on his chest, half-naked and asleep, and he was looking down at me, smiling fondly yet with a sort of mischievous knowability. Running down the middle of the protective glass was a small, jagged crack.

I plucked the frame from the windowsill, inspecting the picture in my two hands. It seemed to uncover a place in my mind—once clouded by disorientation—I’d forgotten. Whether this place was real or imaginary was beyond me, but the fear I felt upon its recollection was incandescently genuine.

“Do you think,” I spoke tentatively, “people can have nightmares while they’re wide awake?” My thumb ran over the crack.

I might have heard him inhale a quiet, sharp breath, but it also could have just been the waves breaking on the distant shore. “Like a flashback?” he asked, an unidentifiable unease in his tone.

“No, not exactly.” I searched my brain for the right words, the right way to tell him how I was feeling, but it was difficult when I could only conjure vague fragments. And it was all I could do to tell it to him elliptically, as I knew saying the words in any other manner would shatter my heart.

“I had this vision,” I began, my words apprehensively staccato, “where I was somewhere else.” My eyes flickered over the picture. “Somewhere… bad. Everything was grey and heavy, and I was alone. Sometimes you were there, but you—you weren’t really you anymore.” I paused and looked up to find him staring at me in the reflection of the window. He looked pained; it was then suddenly hard to recollect a time when he didn’t. My throat started to constrict. “You were gone and…” my voice quietened to a broken wisp of wind, “you were haunting me.”

The room was silent.

He said nothing in response

The transparency of his reflection in the glass was so familiar—so haunting—and it was like another forgotten matter had been dredged from the depths of my mind. Stinging tears brimmed my waterline, and, due to my inability to bear the sight of his translucent appearance, I forced myself to turn around.

I glanced up at him, smiling weakly as I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head as if my need to apologise was nonsensical (even I was unsure of what I was apologising for), and he then pulled me into a tight embrace. His chin rested atop my head; my face was buried in his chest, and his arms held me like I was some dilapidated structure that relied on his support to remain upright. Part of me knew this sentiment was correct.

I expected his next words to be ones of consolation or reassurance, maybe an “I’m right here, sweetheart” or an “I’ll never leave you”. Instead, I felt his head turn and heard him say, “Think it’s going to storm?”

With a sniffle, I turned my head towards the window. The arms wrapped around my body tightened as if he somehow knew I would need the extra support. Because when I saw the wall of dark, opaque clouds rolling through the sky towards us, an unshakeable dread zapped through my heart.

My hands clung to the fabric of his cream-white sweater, which then brought to my attention that an inexplicable tingling sensation was spreading down the fingers of my right hand, numbing them.

Lightning flashed on the horizon, and the once serene waves began cresting violently on the shoreline. The dread grew.

Before my attention could drift too far, my name was called again.

I looked up to find those green eyes gazing down at me, swelling with tears. He was crying. Why was he crying? And why was his hair wet? His usually golden strands had darkened to a deep brown and were drenched with cold water that dripped onto my cheeks, and his hair was swept haphazardly across his forehead, a reflection of someone who had just endured an intense storm or had just been fighting for his life against a swarm of—of—

No.

My own eyes began to burn.

“It’s killing me to see you this way,” he spoke, every second word breaking and wavering in volume.

The world seemed to tilt on an axis. Return did the disorientation, ravaging my mind more violently now. “What do you”—My chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths—“What? What do you mean?” My lower lip was quivering, and my eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion. His words replayed in my head: It’s killing me to see you this way.

It’s killing me.

His hair was dripping—no longer with water, but with a thick, red substance that both dripped down and clotted on his skin. He didn’t look pained anymore; he looked like he was in pain.

It’s killing me.

But that can’t be right, can it?

It’s killing me.

Why?

It’s killing me.

Becausemy Finnickwas already dead.

I staggered backwards and out of his, no, this imposter’s arms. He stared at me as blood streamed down his forehead, pouring over his eyelashes and down his cheeks. I was going to be sick. This had to be some sort of cruel joke, a newly invented punishment from Snow. But that wasn’t right either: Snow was dead too.

“F…Fi…” I tried saying his name, my top teeth prodding the inside of my bottom lip, but I couldn’t make a sound.

He took a step towards me, and I almost stumbled onto the floor. “Remember what I told you?” he asked, though it sounded more like an urge.

I frantically shook my head. No, I didn’t remember. I didn’t want to remember anything.

Something dark and mountainous appeared in my peripheral vision, and an odious smell singed my nostrils. My head snapped to the left. Stacks upon stacks of plates and bowls mounded the kitchen sink, each crawling with maggots that were falling to the floor in white, wriggling heaps.

Nausea boiled in my stomach; horror brimmed my eyes.

I quickly turned away, my eyes meeting green again. His face was no longer stained with blood, and his hair was dry, shiny, and golden with life. I was as speechless as my face was drained of blood.

He took one more step toward me, but this time I didn’t back away, either frozen with fear or desperation for one last experience of closeness with him. My heart thrummed as he reached out to cup my face. It isn’t him, it isn’t him, it isn’t him, I repeated madly in my head. Oh, but it felt so much like him when his warm hand met my skin.

“I told you I’m always with you, sweetheart,” he murmured. And I knew engaging with him, in whatever form he took, affirmed my mental unwellness, but I couldn’t stop from leaning into his touch anyway. “Remember that.”

My cheeks were wet with tears. “I love—”

A bolt of lightning flashed, and thunder boomed throughout the house.

I was back in my bed.

My eyelids were heavy with sleep as they fluttered open. I felt detached, destabilised, and unsure of my existence in the world for I wasn’t sure which of the twoI was currently in. Real or fake?

A few minutes went by before I managed to get a grip on reality, which, in fact, was the real one. The Somewhere Bad. I pinched the corners of my eyes, not only finding them damp with fresh tears but also realising that my right hand—previously tucked beneath my head—was numb.

None of it had been real…

The entire time, my body was trying to alert me, to save me from the inescapable heartache I would feel upon waking. He hadn’t held me in his arms. He hadn’t cupped my cheek nor helped me wash the dishes. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t anywhere (not even in his own marked grave because there was nothing left of him to be buried).

Even despite seeing the familiar tall outline standing in the doorway, his features illuminated with each flash of lightning, I knew it wasn’t really him.

Rain was pummelling the roof, almost loud enough to subdue the perpetual rumbling of thunder (apart from the one sky-splitting thunderclap that had woken me). In another time, I would’ve been scared—of the raging storm, of my phantom lover who was watching from the shadows of our bedroom. But not now.

In recent months, I had found that no emotion, not even fear, surpassed the soul-crushing realisation that you have irretrievably lost the one thing you lived for.

On a defeated whim, and for the first time since his death, I let the singular, weighted word breeze past my lips.

“Finnick.”

It was a trembling plea, a desperate beckon.

And he indulged.

His footsteps were silent as he walked towards the bed. I couldn’t see his legs from my position, prompting me to wonder if he even had legs at all. Or did he only have legs when I could see them? That would then insinuate that if I couldn’t see him at all, he didn’t exist.

If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? In my case, the answer was simple: no, it didn’t.

It wasn’t really Finnick. It wasn’t even his ghost. It was my mind.

He reached the bed’s edge, and I scooted over to my side of the mattress, allowing him enough space to lie down on his. His weight neither dipped nor shook the bed as he laid down and turned on his side to face me. His eyes were sad, and I’m sure mine were too. We stared at each other for a long, long time, long enough for my fatigued body to start playing tricks on me.

If I focused hard enough, I thought I could hear the sound of his breathing (the wind was picking up outside), feel the warmth of his skin spreading onto the sheets (the remnants of my own body heat were left behind each time I moved), and smell the musky scent of cologne and sea-salted hair (the sleeves of his sweater were tucked beneath my nose).

Maybe for a moment—just one sickly, self-indulgent moment—I could pretend it was really him.

I inhaled deeply through my nose. “You really weren’t kidding when you said you would haunt the next owner of this house,” I whispered as light-heartedly as I could, my voice obscured by the heavy rain pouring onto the roof.

He smiled, and it was one of the most heart-wrenchingly beautiful things I had ever seen. I think I might have given him one in return, though I couldn’t be too sure because the concept of smiling had become so foreign. The last time I was truly happy was… the last night we spent together. In each other’s arms, safe and warm and together.

And then he was gone. Just like that.

Cressida, whom I had only spoken to once in Thirteen when the war ended, was the one to tell me how it happened. Katniss was too personal, too close to him; Peeta’s instability rendered conversation futile. So, I had asked Cressida to tell me every detail—every expression on his face, every word he screamed. I don’t know why. Maybe it was so I could cling onto those last few minutes where he was still alive and breathing, despite dying and bleeding; or so I could replay the moment over and over in my head, as if somehow, someway, I could change his fate.

“He talked about you all the time,” she had told me. “Actually, I don’t think he ever spoke of anything but you. No one minded, though. While we were out there, no one ever really smiled, but every time your name was mentioned, Finnick would get this great big grin on his face, and it was impossible not to look at him and start smiling as well.

So, we all started asking questions about you: ‘What colour is her hair? Her eyes? Where did you meet? What are her hobbies?’—just to see him smile… A week passed, and it was like we all knew you inside out. It was all we could do to hang on to some shred of happiness, even if it meant talking about a girl who, to all of us, was a stranger.”

I was inconsolable after that.

She kept talking, but my sobs had drowned out most of her words, so much that I had asked her to retell me everything later in the day, despite inducing the same outcome. So, she told it to me again, just as she did the day after that and the day after that and so on until I returned home to District Four.

“He also spoke about how you never felt comfortable living in the Victors Village. He had this idea that the two of you would move somewhere far away, outside the borders of District Four, though he emphasised remaining by the sea was very important—something about how you looked while swimming during sunset and the water was all sparkly around you.”

At this point, she had been holding my hand, knowing full well how debilitating it was for me to hear. Then she had spoken with a quiet incredulity and a facial expression to match, as though she’d never encountered a love like ours before. “He wanted to build a house for you…”

He wanted to build a house for you.

And now he never would. Our love was too ephemeral for that to happen; destined to remain history; to be a memory.

Finnick's eyes stared into mine, the green hue now a dark grey from the overshadowing dimness of the room.

“I would’ve gone anywhere with you,” I whispered to him, placing my hand on the sheets between us. “I would’ve travelled thousands of miles away from this place. Would’ve lived in solitary, just the two of us, for the rest of our lives.” A warm tear tickled the bridge of my nose. His eyebrows scrunched together in shared anguish. “God, Finn, I miss you,” my voice broke. “I miss you so much.”

I contemplated crying, sobbing, screaming, or begging for him to come back, but I was just too tired. All my energy had been spent on grievance throughout the following day, and my eyes were growing heavier by the second as my body was sinking further into a state of relaxation.

Between slow blinks, I watched Finnick’s large hand move to rest atop my own, and at that point, I knew sleep would soon catch me because I swear I could feel his warm touch.

Images flashed through my mind—incomprehensible and melting together, yet somehow still graspable.

Sky blue water rippling with calm waves, the surface glittering in the setting sun. A white stonewall cottage fronted by soft, white sand and tall palm trees. Two plates of fruit-filled yoghurt and scrambled eggs on toast. Three pairs of footprints in the sand, one larger, one smaller, and another between them so delicately tiny I could fit them into the palm of my hand.

Sea-green eyes above me. Golden hair tangled between my fingers. Finnick standing in the wooden doorway of our white stonewall cottage wearing a cream-white sweater and rolled-up slacks. Finnick grinning deeply and then throwing his head back with laughter. Finnick standing in front of our bed, taking my hand in his and guiding me towards him. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick.

Finnick holding our child.

I was between worlds now, both indistinguishable from the other. My eyelids were drooping, and I was quickly growing insensate. Just before my eyes closed completely, I saw Finnick’s—he who wasn’t really my Finnick—lips move. It wasn’t in my bleak reality in which I heard him speak, but rather in my mind, and God, did his words offer the sweetest relief.

“I’ll see you when you fall asleep.”

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mbbmz · 2 months ago

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Can’t look away from you!

Shinichiro x reader

I swear I have so many drafts for y’all requests but I’m too lazy to finish them T-T (sorry if I made any spelling mistakes, English isn’t my first language!)

Warnings : semi public sex, oral sex (m receiving), porn without plot

He was trying, really, really hard to focus. But it seemed like he had been tightening the same damn bolt for the past ten minutes. Why, oh why did he think it would be a good idea to take his girlfriend to his shop? His girlfriend who has been so clingy and affectionate since early in the morning, so much he couldn’t help but ask her to keep him company.

Oh was he regretting this decision.

You were looking at him with those eyes. Those you had when you wanted something. And he knew exactly what.

But he couldn’t give in now. He was supposed to be working. Beside, anyone could come in at any moment! His friends, his brother, who all chose his shop as their hangout spot, or even any customer!

In the span of ten minutes, you went from leaning against a wall, to sitting next to him, to sitting on his lap. He was hard, and you knew it. You were just playing with him at this point, waiting for him to break, to lose the battle against his morals and his decency.

And there was a limit to what a man could take, and you made him reach that limit when you laid down, resting your cheek on his thigh.

His resolve crumbled, leaning back as he let out a loud sigh.

- "Fuck… come here, babe…"

You smiled in victory, watching him unbuckle his belt. He looked around one last time, pressing his lips in a thin line, before taking out his semi-hard cock.

You smiled, immediately wrapping your hand around him in a firm grip. As much as you wanted to savor it, even you knew that it had to be done quick.

You looked up at him, noticing he was still looking around nervously, as if someone might magically appear into the shop. Your free hand found its way to his chin, gripping it so he would look at you instead. He let out a silent gasp at the sight, that devious smile stretching your face as you started pumping his shaft in a tantalizingly slow movement.

- "Eyes on me, love."

You muttered sultrily, giving his blushing tip a slow, sensual lick. God, he was so weak for you. You swore you could feel him twitch from the sight.

His free hand rested on top of your head, fiddling with a strand as if he was fighting the urge to just shove you down his length, while the other was on the floor, trying to support his weight so he could lean back even more, leaving you space.

You wasted no time putting both of your hands to work, pumping him while your tongue was brushing against his tip hastily.

His grip on your hair tightened, his breath shaky and his messy black hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat. This was such a beautiful sight for you, which only encouraged you to pick up with the pace.

- "F-Fuck… just like that baby…"

He said, his voice stifled and shaky in reaction to your lips wrapping around his length. He wanted to keep looking around, looking for eventual unexpected guests, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you and your bobbing head.

Fuck, it had to be one of the most erotic sights ever. Your lips stretched around his dick, trying to adjust to his size while tears were starting to prickle at the corners of your eyes. Oh fuck, he might just nut right now-

He didn’t even have the time to give you a warning before he shot his load deep down your throat, making you cough, quickly pulling away as you made him ride his orgasm with your fist.

He stared at you, his gaze apologetic yet lustful as he looked at you, cheeks flushed probably from the performance you put up a few seconds ago.

You glared at him, pushing his shoulder lightly, a slight pout on your face. He chuckled, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck as he sat up straighter.

- "Sorry baby… sometimes you’re just too damn hot, I can’t hold back…"

He caressed the top of your head, his other hand putting his softening cock back in his pants. He helped you sit up, scooting you over him. He looked around one last time, before looking back at you.

- "Spread those pretty legs f’me, time to return the favor…"

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tr shinichiro #tokrev shinichiro #shinichiro smut #tokyo revengers shinichiro #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano #shinichiro x you #tkrev #tokrev smut #tr smut

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spaghettiposts · 1 year ago

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Video Games

Reader x Wednesday Addams

Summery: Video games are a waste of time in Wednesdays opinion, being with you however is not.

Warnings: First attempt at writing for Wednesday.

A/N: Lemme know if y’all would wanna see more of Wednesday from me I’m thinking about writing for Tara too!

“There are more fruitful things to do aside from staring at a screen all day.”

Lifting your head from your said screen, you raised a judgemental brow. Wednesday sat with her back turned from you, typing away, she had allowed you to sit lay on her bed in the meantime so long as you promised to stay silent. The noises your console gave off broke that promise, one quick narrowed look from the goth had you lowering the volume instantly.

“Like staring at a typewriter all day?” You retorted with amusement in your voice. She paused her typing for a minuscule moment before continuing her steady pace.

“I’ll have you know my writing sessions improve memorization, vocabulary, and keep me from strangling you.” You could see a cocky smirk form on her face. “Consider yourself lucky.”

Shrugging your shoulders you sucked your teeth, a reply fresh on your tongue. “I don’t know, dying in your hands sounds like the most lucky I’ll ever be.”

At that, Wednesday froze, looking down to her paper before ripping it off, a prominent scowl appearing. You grinned to yourself behind the device, knowing damn well you had made her slip up. The small tints of red on her cheeks almost missable, just confirmed that.

“Disturb my writing time again and I’ll throw that…thing off my balcony.” She huffed, folding whatever she did get done during the duration of your visit into a neat pile. It wasn’t much whatsoever, a pattern that only repeated every session you were around.

You simply laughed in response, causing her stomach to grow spiders. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to punch you or shut you up in another form.

In different circumstances she’d respond with haste, quickly dismissing you from her dormitories so she could focus. But for some reason, no matter how close she was to saying no, it never happened. Wednesday supposed that was fine, you weren’t completely irksome.

But if those little noises, coming from your Nintendo? Kept happening she might just come to say it.

“I thought I had warned you to turn off the noise.” She snapped, face scrunching at the weird noises of a man crying. The noise didn’t even resemble a realistic cry, what on earth. “What even is that?” She questioned.

You smiled at the clear curiosity she showed. Not that she’d ever admit. Scooting over on her bed—carefully not to ruin her perfectly folded sheets—patted the space next to you. “Come here and I’ll show you.” You offered, receiving a cold scoff in response. “What? Come on Wednesday. We both know you aren’t getting any more writing done, why not unwind?”

Unfortunately, seeing as she had neatly arranged everything back in its usual place. You were correct, obviously Wednesday refused to let you know that, reluctantly trudging along to her bed. Muttering small things about how “I’d get more writing done if you left.”

“Mhm sure Addams.” You snickered, lifting your arm up to put around her shoulder, bringing her into you. She said nothing, adjusting to the position until she found the perfect spot to rest. On your chest.

“Technology is a man-made brain rotting scam that only diminishes human intelligence.”

“So was romance? I guess you’re into rotting then.”

“Only because you could rot with someone.” She muttered, staring at the game in your hands. The corners of her lips rising when you died, cursing to yourself. “Rot with you.” She added lowly, you almost didn’t catch it but you’re glad you did. You just hope she wouldn’t hear how much you enjoyed it, be still heart.

Feeling bold you pressed a small kiss on her head, leaning your head against hers as you continued playing your game. Later when Wednesday got tired of you mashing those stupid buttons she’d toss the game aside, leaving your full attention on her. Maybe there were more fruitful things you could focus on.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #fluff #Wednesday Addams fluff

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the-iceni-bitch · 6 months ago

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Trust Me, I Can Handle Me a Dangerous Man…

Summary: Some things never change…

Relationship: Mr. Freezy (Bobby) x hitwoman!fem reader (kitten)

Words: ~2.7k

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected p in v, rough sex, edging, cock warming), murder, drug use, part of a dark-ish AU, NO MINORS 🔞

A/N: I FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED A FIC AFTER SEVEN GODDAMN MONTHS!!! Now that the screaming is out of the way, hi y’all! I cannot guarantee that I’m going to be posting fics on a regular basis but I will say that I have a couple in the works that I actually feel are close to being finished soooooo, fingers crossed!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on my writing, follow @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

You smiled to yourself as the light caught the ring on your finger, turning your hand back and forth and humming softly at the way it sparkled in the sunlight.

Then his hand tightened around your throat and he moved inside you and all you could do was whine.

“Jesus fucking Christ, kitten,” Bobby snarled in your ear when he felt you flutter around his cock as he cut off your air, slapping your tits and then your face a few times with his free hand until he was satisfied your were focused again. “Pay attention. Never would’ve put that fucking thing on your finger if I knew you were gonna get so damn distracted.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you purred when he pulled you even closer, grinding your ass in his lap while he fucked up into you. “‘Scuse me for enjoying being a newlywed.”

He just snorted before sinking his teeth into the side of your neck while his body kept rolling underneath yours. It’s not like he could deny there wasn’t something special about finally being able to call you his wife, to enjoy knowing that you belonged to him completely and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Not that anyone would ever try. He would fucking kill them if they did. Hell, he almost killed anyone who would even look at you, now. Nothing got him more worked up than growling at some idiot for looking at his wife and then fucking you like he owned you. God, he actually fucking loved you, in his fucked up, psychotic way.

You sighed when he licked the mark he had left on your neck, rocking your body against his and holding the rifle in your hands tightly as he kept his grip just firm enough for you to take shallow breaths. It was true, you were having a little trouble focusing, but you still got your fucking job done. You had to, since he had wanted to be inside you since pretty much right after you left City Hall two days go. Of course, you couldn’t really complain about that, not when his cock was throbbing inside you and his breath was hot against your neck. When he started sucking on your ear you grinned, turning your face so you could rub your cheek against his over your shoulder.

“Ah shit,” you saw movement through the scope out of the corner of your eye and huffed out a sharp breath, “That’s him. Keep your mouth to yourself for a damn minute.”

“Fine,” Bobby leaned back with a groan, watching you raise the gun to aim and fighting the urge to keep thrusting his hips, “Just hurry the fuck up.”

You ignored the brush of his fingers as he pushed up your skirt so he could grope your ass, taking deep breaths and doing your best to remain focused when he let out a grunt at the way your pussy looked when it was stretched wide around his dick. The idiot you had to kill was finally in your sights. He hadn’t stepped outside in two days and his blinds were always closed, paranoid bastard. But one call from his little girlfriend and he threw all that caution to the wind. What a fucking moron.

Two more breaths and you squeezed the trigger, the silenced gunshot swallowed by the noise of the city. The dumbass in your scope had barely hit the ground before Bobby grabbed the back of your neck and threw you to the floor. He didn’t waste any time before shoving his cock back inside you, grinning to himself when you moaned and spread your legs for him.

“That’s it, such a good fucking whore my wife is,” he grunted as he started to fuck you like an animal, his hips smacking against your ass lewdly, “Fuck, I’ll never get sick of this snatch of yours, so damn tight.”

“Such a sweet talker you are,” you arched your back so he could hit you even deeper, your eyes fluttering when he spread your cheeks and spat on your asshole, “Knew you just married me for my body.”

“Just keep talking, bitch,” Bobby started rubbing your rim with his thumb while he fucked you and almost lost it when it made you clench tighter around him, “Married you for that cunt mouth too.”

“Yes… oh fuck,” you dug your fingers into the carpet underneath you and bit your lip when he slid his thumb inside your ass, every muscle in your body starting to grow tight, “Fuck me harder, you stupid fucking bastard. Make me come.”

“Yeah, I’ll make you come, you dumb little slut,” he groaned and leaned over you so he could sink his teeth into your shoulder, growling against your skin when he felt both of your holes flutter around him, “Do it fast. I want to come inside your pretty little gash before the pigs show up.”

Even as you rolled your eyes you still whined when his balls rubbed against your clit, your legs trembling and your breath leaving you in sharp huffs as you came on his cock. As soon as he felt you squirt he drove into you to the hilt. His breath was hot against your skin while he grunted in his release, his dick pulsing inside you as he pumped you full of his thick cum. He kissed the mark he left on your neck and then he was gone, standing up and grinning at the sight of you sprawled out on the floor and leaking his seed.

You thought about sassing him for leaving you to clean yourself up, but then you heard sirens and you knew it was time to go. Bobby took care of disassembling the rifle once he got his jeans pulled back up. At least all you had to do was pull your dress back into place, admiring the bites and bruises he’d left all over your tits as you slid your arms back into your sleeves. Hopefully you looked appropriately love drunk and giddy, making sure the ring on your finger was prominent and beaming at him when he wound his arm around your waist and hefted the suitcase holding your rifle.

The lobby was full of cops, but you two looked like the happy newlyweds you were, so they had no reason to bother you. Or, you looked like a happy newlywed, Bobby looked like he was thinking about stabbing some of those cops until you stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“Fucking pigs,” Bobby practically spat the words as he shoved the suitcase into the trunk before climbing into the driver’s seat, “Make my goddamn skin crawl.”

“Well if you hadn’t insisted on fucking me we could’ve been out of there before they showed up,” you caught his hand by the wrist after he slapped you and bit his knuckle with a playful growl, “Don’t be so cranky, Bobby. I’ll let you finger fuck me while we drive back to the club.”

By the time you had made it back to the club you were a mess and he looked annoyingly pleased with himself. All you could do when he gave your sloppy cunt a few final smacks was whine and feebly try to push his hand away while he just chuckled at you. The only thing that brought you back to yourself was when he backhanded you across the face. As much as it made you want to stab him, you needed to maintain some semblance of professionalism when you were about to meet with the bosses. That didn’t stop you from ramming your fist into his gut once you had finally pulled yourself out of the car, his low snarl when you just started walking away while he stood there doubled over making your pussy start to clench all over again.

The club was empty except for staff since the sun was still up, all of whom chuckled under their breath when they saw Bobby stalking after you with pure murder etched on his face. Curtis grinned when he saw you approaching, shaking his head when Bobby caught up to you and grabbed you by the throat so he could whisper threats in your ear. You just rolled your eyes at your husband and gave Curtis a wink when he held the door to the bosses’ office open for you. Bobby shook a few times for good measure before he finally let you go, shoving you into the office and just barely resisting the urge to fling one of your knees over his elbow and hold you wide open while he took his annoyance out on your pretty little cunt.

“Holy fucking shit, you weren’t lying when you said you got hitched?!” Lloyd looked positively giddy with amusement when you pranced up and held out your hand to show him the ring. “I don’t know if I should be insulted you didn’t invite me or not.”

“Please, you wanted to come to city hall?” You ignored Bobby’s grumbling while you conversed with Lloyd, watching your husband sink into one of the office chairs then turning your attention back to your favorite boss. “It’s not like Bobby was going to throw a party.”

“That’s true. You have married a stick in the mud, my dear. Nick, Auggie!” Lloyd grinned at the other bosses when they strode into the office. “Congratulate our favorite psychos, they tied the knot!”

“Did they finish the job?” August grunted while Nick actually congratulated the two of you, ignoring Lloyd’s melodramatic eye roll.

“Sure fucking did,” You gave August a wink when he just shrugged at you. “Dropped that fucker right in the middle of Manhattan.”

“That’s why you’re the best,” Lloyd bent under the desk to grab the hefty envelope of cash, taking a little longer then usual and beaming even more when he also came up with a kilo of coke. “And a nice little bonus as congratulations on your nuptials. You know my little lady is going to want to actually throw you a party though?”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” you thumbed through the cash and turned back to your husband, sighing when he gave you a sour look. “Don’t worry, grumpy, you can stay home.”

He just huffed before the two of you started to head back out to the car, ignoring the well wishes of your bosses and choosing to let his eyes rake over your body. You had gotten significantly more social ever since the two of you joined the new organization, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it. Granted, the money was enough to make up for any chit chat he had to put up with, and he did get to fuck you in public a lot more. Plus, the drugs…

“Lemme taste that,” Bobby grabbed the brick and jabbed his knife into it, rubbing some of the powder onto his gums and sucking in a breath when he got a buzz right away. “Fuck, that’s good shit.”

“Gimme,” you giggled when he scooped some onto his pinky and offered it to you, humming after you took a bump and looking up at him with wide eyes. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Fuck it,” he shoved you into one of the VIP booths in the club and bent you over the table, flipping up your skirt and giving your ass a good smack before scooping more coke onto his blade. “We can have a quick party. Fucking hold still.”

You moaned when he started to tap out lines on the upper curve of your ass. It was so hard not to start trembling when he pulled shit like this, his warm breath on your skin and the fact that anyone could walk by and see you making your pussy start to get slick and hot right away. Bobby growled and dragged his stubborn cheek along the curve of your ass before giving you a firm bite, licking and kissing the mark he made on your skin before turning his focus to the lines of white powder and inhaling them greedily.

“Bobby…” you moaned and then froze when you felt him parting your cheeks with his calloused fingers. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

“Calm down… hey!” Bobby rose to his feet and grabbed the back of your neck when you tried to turn around and scratch him, slamming your head against the table twice as he took off his belt with one hand. “You’re the little bitch who cries about being too sensitive when you’re high, kitten. Thought I would help you out.”

“You fucking bastard!” It’s not like you could do anything except hiss and spit at him, kicking your legs when he looped his belt around your wrists and somehow managed to bind you to the legs at the opposite side of the table. “Bull shit you wanna help me!”

“Yeah well,” he chuckled and slapped your ass as hard as he could when you almost kicked him in the knee. “Maybe I just wanna see how wet my little wife’s pussy can get if she can’t come.”

You snarled and tried uselessly to squirm away from him when he started rubbing the cocaine all over your pussy and asshole. Even as high as you were, you wanted to scratch one of his eyes out for this. It wasn’t even enough to make you completely numb, just enough that you were going to be frustrated and right on the edge for the next hour. You could still feel his warm breath and the heavy weight of his tongue when he dragged it over your sex, but the delicious throbbing you typically felt in your clit when he sucked on it was gone, replaced by an annoying little buzz that made you grind your teeth.

“Still so goddamn sweet, you’re dripping, sweetheart,” Bobby pinched your clit and grinned when you rewarded him with a petulant growl. He was probably going to have to tie you up when he needed to sleep for the next week, unless he wanted to wake up to a knife in his leg. But fuck, it was worth it.

“I’m gonna rip your fucking tongue out,” your threats didn’t stop you from grinding back against his face, every muscle in your body tensing as you held your breath and tried to will yourself to come. But it didn’t happen. You could feel it right there but then it was gone. “Fuck!”

Bobby just hushed you and then bent back to work, burying his face in your supple cheeks and grunting as he wrapped his lips around your pussy and sucked. Every time you made one of your little dissatisfied sounds he just pinched your clit again, reminding you that he could and that nothing he might do to you right now would be able to make you come. He swore your pussy tasted even sweeter when he pissed you off like this, that it got even more swollen and hot than it did during his normal games with you. He loved it, so much so that he was seriously considering rubbing more coke all over your cunt once your sensitivity was back just so he could make you even angrier.

Four more times he brought you right up to the edge then just kept you there, chuckling into the swollen folds of your cunt each time you screamed in impotent rage. After an hour you were a panting, sweat-soaked mess of a woman, your body quivering with frustration and exhaustion. Even when he undid his belt from around your wrists you couldn’t move, snarling at him uselessly when he just gave your temple a condescending kiss. As soon as you could move you were going to stab him.

“I know that look, kitten, and I wouldn’t recommend it.” He gave your ass a hard swat before pulling your skirt back down to cover you. “I know your a hissy kitty right now, but I might have a treat planned for my little wife.”

“Fuck you,” you hissed at him, grumbling under your breath when he helped you stand and left his arm around your waist. “What kind of treat?”

“Oh, I dunno…” Bobby pinched your ass as the two of you made your way towards the club exit. “How do you feel about picking up a toy for the night?”

#natalie writes #poison paradise #bobby and kitten #mr freezy #robert pronge #mr freezy x female reader #female reader #chris evans #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans character x reader #eighteen plus only

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ishifttoplacesiprobablyshouldnt · 3 months ago

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being a shifter with a period is so wild like y’all are not ready for this story also a bit tmi but considering the shit I post on here I think it’s expected from me at this point

SO I personally get like really feral-horny on my period (I’m on bc so like I don’t ovulate but this feels like ovulation horny like I’m going to rip a man limb from limb kind of horny) and this time I developed a crush randomly out of no where on this character and my god I needed to fuck him but it was like whiplash cause I had NEVER thought about this man in this light ever and now my period’s done and I’m back to normal and also not attracted to this man at all

but like damn way to waste my time

all the scripting I did

for his ugly ass

#reality shifting #shifting community #shifting #shifting blog #shifting antis dni #shiftblr #desired reality #shifters #shifting realities #manifesting

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cosmicdahlias · 3 months ago

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A Tale of Two Outlaws

an arthur and john x reader fic

MINORS DNI

You’ve drunk yourself into a stupor, Arthur takes you back to camp and John preposes a devilish idea.

warnings: dubcon, mild age gap with arthur (reader is in their 20’s), drunk sex, threesome, scratching, impreg, baby trapping, hangover

it’s pretty obvious by the end who i favor more hshxbdhdjdhd

Arthur kept a hand around your shoulder as you stumbled out of the saloon. He struggled to keep you on your feet.

“Jesus girl, how many drinks did you have?” Arthur asked, catching you as you almost tumbled to the ground.

“Bleventeeeeeen.” You smiled.

Arthur took his face in his hands. “Good god almighty, I told you to take it easy. You know you’re a lightweight.”

“I jus’ wan’ed to have a little fun, Mr. Morgan.” You slurred, giving him your best doe eyes.

“Yeah, and you’re gonna be sick as a dog come mornin’.”

“How come you ain’t drunk?” You asked.

“Cause I’m bigger than you and I wasn’t drinkin’ like someone was comin’ to saw my leg off.”

Arthur hoisted you onto his horse’s saddle.

“Wha’ ‘bout my horse?” You asked, still slurring your words.

“You’re too damn drunk to ride, we’ll come back for her in the mornin’ after you’ve had a chance to sober up.”

Arthur made his way back to camp with you against his back, your arms wrapped around his waist. You may or may not have fallen off his horse a few times.

“You’re gonna be bruised and cut up to hell tomorrow, you know that?” He said as he helped you up.

“Heh heh, battle scars.”

When you finally arrived Arthur went to pull you off his horse and you slumped over, once again falling off, you had passed out. He held you and gently tapped your cheek, trying to revive you.

“Hey, hey, y/n, come on girl.”

You opened your eyes, struggling to keep them that way. “BUH! I’M AWAKE!”

John overheard the commotion and walked over.

“Jesus, they look like hell. What’d you do to them, Arthur?” John asked.

“Ask them.” Arthur retorted.

You lifted your head up. “Eheheheheh, I got WASTED, John!”

“Yeah, no shit. You really can’t handle your booze.” John responded.

Arthur shrugged. “They were really on a mission to be the dumbest they could be.”

“Don’ y’all go judgin’ me.” You said with a hiccup, flopping out of Arthur’s arms onto the ground.

Arthur sighed, pulling you to your feet. “Alright come on, you think you can stand?”

“I’m a standin’ professional.” You said, immediately falling on your face.

Arthur threw up his hands and shook his head. “What the hell am I gonna do with you?” He said, scooping you into his arms again.

“Funny you should mention Arthur, cause I’ve been thinkin’. Remember what we was talkin’ about the other day? I mean come on, look at them. They ain’t gonna be able to say no, bet they’d like it actually.” John said, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“Shit, Marston, you got some good ideas every now and then.”

Arthur dipped his head down and kissed you roughly, you grabbed at his neckerchief, pulling him closer.

John scoffed. “I fuckin’ knew it, you want this so bad. Should’a known, seein’ the way you walk ‘round camp, findin’ any reason to bend over in front of us.”

Arthur smirked devilishly. “Yeah, you have any idea what you do to the men here? What we say about you? You don’t wanna know the kinda shit that comes out of Micah’s mouth. We all want you, girl, every single one of us.”

“Are we just gonna stand here talkin’ or are we gonna actually do this?” John asked.

“Damn, you can be so impatient.”

Arthur carried you to your tent, he closed the curtains and set you down on the cot. You drunkenly fumbled with your clothes, attempting to take them off.

“Poor thing, too drunk to even strip. Let me help you princess.” Arthur said, kissing your neck.

Arthur unbuttoned your blouse and took off your skirt, he unhooked your bra and slid your knickers down your legs. You laid back, completely exposed to the both of them. John was the first to speak.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, so that’s what you’ve been hidin’ under them clothes.” He said, unbuttoning his trousers, pulling his cock out and moving to spread your legs.

Arthur put out a hand. “Easy there, John, don’t get ahead of yourself. They need to be taken care of first.”

“Suit yourself, Arthur, I’ll be puttin’ that mouth to good use.”

Arthur pulled you to the edge of the cot and sank to his knees, slowly inserting his fingers inside you. John turned your head to face him and wasted no time shoving his cock in your mouth, gripping your hair.

“Tastes good, don’t it?” John said as he bucked into your mouth.

“Mhmf.” You nodded, mouth full of cock.

Arthur put his mouth to your clit, sucking and licking furiously. You moaned and reached your hand down to grab a fistful of his locks.

”Atta girl.” Arthur purred.

He curled his fingers at your g-spot and you moaned around John’s cock.

“Fuck, Arthur, I don’t know what you just did, but keep doin’ it. When you make them moan like that it feels stupid good on my dick.”

John increased his speed, fucking your mouth relentlessly. Arthur sucked hard on your clit, you bucked your hips into his mouth.

You felt your orgasm build, arching your back off the cot. Arthur could sense it, picking up his pace with his tongue and fucking you harder with his fingers. You salivated on John’s cock as you came all over Arthur’s face.

“Good girl.” He said softly, kissing your clit.

Arthur got to his feet and picked you up, his hands holding the underside of your thighs and you wrapped your arms around his neck while John came up behind you. Arthur slipped himself in first, John attempted to follow, but struggled to get it in.

You shifted nervously. “I- I don’ know if both’a y’all’ll fit.”

“Shhh, you can do it girl, just relax.” Arthur cooed.

John grunted as he made a second attempt, successfully entering you. You whimpered from the arousing and painful sensation of being stretched out by both of them. They began to move in you, trying to fuck you at a synchronized rhythm.

“Good girl, I knew you had it in you.” Arthur praised.

You were moaning nonstop, they both felt so goddam good.

“You hear the noises they’re makin’?” John asked.

“God, those sounds are so fuckin’ adorable. You really enjoyin’ yourself, ain’t you, babygirl?” Arthur said.

“Fuck, I should get drunk more often.” You said, burying your face in Arthur’s neck.

“If you’re always gonna be this fun, I’m all for it, girl.” John chuckled.

“You know, we was startin’ to think you was just a tease and that you didn’t really want none, that maybe you was a virgin.” Arthur said, grunting.

You laughed. “Oh you should’a seen me when I was younger, passed around more than a bottle of liquor. Worked out nicely cause now I know what men like y’all want and I know my way around a cock. Hell you think Dutch just let me join on a whim? Nah, I had him barkin’ like a dog.”

“Goddam, you’re a freak.” John said.

Arthur kissed your neck. “You startin’ to make me jealous of Dutch.”

Both of them started thrusting into you faster, trying to match each other’s speed. Arthur dug his nails into your thighs as John reached around to feel up your breasts.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum and I ain’t cummin’ in you, I already learned my lesson with that.” John panted.

He pumped faster, his breathing becoming strained, pulling out and cumming all over your back, biting into your neck. His cum dripped onto the floor.

John stretched, buttoning his pants. “Well thanks for all the fun, girl, but I don’t see any point in stayin’ after cummin’.” He said while making his way out.

“Good, I was kinda hopin’ he’d give us some time alone.”

Arthur carried you to the cot and set you down on your stomach. He took a rag and wiped John’s cum off of you.

“There, sorry about that, John doesn’t always think of the ladies first.”

He turned you over, kissed you passionately and entered you again. He resumed his pace, his hands pinning your wrists. He pumped his cock into you roughly. You kissed him and he moaned into your mouth.

He started pulling himself fully out and slamming back into you just to hear you squeal, you raked your nails down his back and he let out a loud groan.

“Good girl, mark me. Make me yours.”

You moved yourself against him.

“Nnngh, fuck. That’s it, work those hips back on me.”

His breathing hitched, hips stuttering.

“I’m so close, you gonna let me cum in you?”

“I need it, Arthur.”

“That’s right, tell me how much you need me to cum in you, get you pregnant even.”

You tightened around him at his words, something about him wanting to impregnate you up was incredibly hot.

“Y-you want to knock me up?”

”Shit, I’ve wanted you for so long, if I have to fuck a baby into you to make it happen, so be it. Now c’mon, say it, tell me you want me to put a baby in you.”

“Nnh, I want your baby. I need your baby, Arthur.”

That absolutely did him in. He fucked you at a breakneck pace, the cot squeaking underneath you.

“Fuckin’ GOD!” He growled through gritted teeth.

He panted, getting a last few thrusts in before cumming deep inside you. He collapsed on top of you and laid there, cock still inside you without speaking.

Arthur kissed you as he finally pulled out. “You done good, girl. You want me to get you dressed and I can take off?”

“Mmmn, can you stay?” You mumbled through your exhaustion.

“Good choice, I was hopin’ you’d- wait, hold on.”

Arthur rummaged around in his satchel and pulled out a pencil and his journal. He grabbed a chair and sat down in front of you.

“Lay on your side and pose for me.”

You blushed, you’d always hoped he would include you in his journal. You turned to face Arthur and tried to emulate the poses of the girls you saw in those erotic pictures that the men passed around camp. He started to sketch you.

“That’s it, good girl. Put a hand on your tit. Yeah, just like that. Now try not to move.”

“You gonna use this to cum to later?”

“When I’m gone for days and you’re not around? Yes. I got needs, girl, and I’m not about to fuck some whore. I like you too much to lose you over something like that.”

“So, what you’re sayin’ is…”

“Yes, I plan on courtin’ you. I caught feelings for you and if my cum is worth anything I’m stayin’ with you for good, I ain’t no deadbeat.”

He sketched you in silence, the only sound being of his pencil against the paper. You yawned.

“Aww, tired ain’t you? Don’t worry I’m almost done, then I’ll let you cuddle up with me.”

After roughly 30 minutes he finally finished. He turned the journal to you.

“What d’ya think? Not as good as the real thing, but I think I captured you pretty well.”

You blushed. You looked absolutely gorgeous. Was this how he saw you?

“It’s perfect, Arthur.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that. Now scooch over so I can hold you.”

You made space for him on the cot. He laid down and took you in his arms, your head on his chest. He sighed deeply, stroking your hair.

He had figured for a while that you found him attractive, but he assumed it never went deeper than that. He always felt something for you ever since he met you. So for you to want him to stay, want his baby, was everything.

You nuzzled into his chest as sleep embraced you, he kissed your forehead. Arthur watched you for a while, listening to the soft sounds of your breathing. He thought you looked so cute and peaceful asleep.

He could almost forget that you were a dangerous outlaw, sometimes more dangerous than him. He liked that, your fiery spirit was what drew him to you.

He fought sleep as long as he could, not wanting this moment to end, but eventually his eyelids grew heavy and sleep overtook him.

You awoke in Arthur’s arms the next morning to a splitting headache and intense nausea. You bolted to a wastebasket and promptly vomited. Arthur held your hair away from your face, rubbing your back.

“Have we learned why we don’t drink half our weight in liquor?” He asked.

“Fuck you, Arthur.” You said between retches.

“Already did last night and I’ll do it again.”

“If I wasn’t so focused on keeping things down I’d strangle you right now.”

He smirked. “Is that a promise?”

Weeks later the nausea would return, this time ceaseless, on the daily. Arthur had lived up to his word about getting you pregnant. You were gonna be his forever.

#arthur morgan #john marston #arthur morgan x reader #john marston x reader #arthur morgan fanfic #john marston fanfic #arthur morgan smut #john marston smut #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #my fics

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kentocee · 8 months ago

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Warmth • Geto x Fem!reader • (18+)

CW: smut ( shower sex, oral, (male recieving), slight degradation (use of whore and slut), Dom!Geto(he a lil mean wit it 🫣), slight choking, rough sex, unprotected sex, craampie, just slutty sex)

Cee’s Note: This pic of Geto is what spawned this filthy smut. Hope y’all enjoy :)

Song Cred: Warmth by Janet Jackson (this song is literally bout sucking dick UGH she is MOTHER)

[Minors do NOT interact; explicit content ahead]

Geto couldn’t tell what was warmer…

The hot water hitting his back from the shower head or the warmth from your hot tongue and the roof of your mouth sucking him like a straw.

All he knew is that this was exactly what he needed after coming back from a stressful mission with Satoru. After a long day of swallowing multiple curses all he wanted to do was watch you swallow his load.

He groaned as you began bobbing your head a little more frantically, your hand massaging his balls as you took him in deeper.

“Yeah suck it just like that,” Geto moans, one hand gripping your hair, the other clutching the wall of the shower.

The sight before you was glorious seeing Geto’s muscles and abs glistening with water droplets and his wet locks dangling in his face.

He was so beautiful.

He was shining like a god and only you could see him like this.

“Oh I’m cumming”, he grunted as he painted the back of your throat with his cum.

You gag slightly, feeling the hot liquid shoot down your throat. Your hands continued pumping him from the base, draining him for all he’s got.

“Swallow it all baby” Geto bit his lip as he pushed the strands of your hair out of your face loving the mess of cum and saliva smeared down your chin.

You popped off his dick and licked your lips, savoring the taste of the dark haired sorcerer’s cum.

Geto hummed, the sight making him hard again.

He placed two fingers under your chin, lifting you off your knees and up to his lips. He could taste his essence on your tongue as your tongues molded together in unison.

His hand lightly cupped your throat while your make out session continued. The kiss was so damn slutty but you didn’t care. Steam filled the air from the hot water making the air thicker around you. You couldn’t tell if the cloudiness you felt was from the steam or your lover’s kiss leaving you breathless.

“Turn,” he commanded, breaking your kiss.

You did like you were told and turned away from him, your ass pressed against his fully hard dick. Your cunt ached with need as you pushed your ass further against him, grinding yourself against him.

“My little whore, so needy for my cock”, he smirked

“Yes, I love your cock please fuck me Guru,” you whined pathetically, pushing your hips further against him.

He let out a low groan, you were practically begging for it.

He lifted your leg with one hand and other stroking his tip against your slick cunt, causing you to whine more impatiently.

He chuckled before finally pushing through your folds. The water from the shower providing extra lubricant as he sank into your pussy so effortlessly

Your eyes fluttered back as his thick member stretched your pussy so well. He wasted no time pumping his cock in you, causing you to cry out at the rough pace.

His grip on your thigh and the other around your neck tightened as he pounded into you with all his might.

“Gonna fuck you like the slut you are and you’re gonna take it” he grunted, tilting your head slightly to be met with your fucked out face.

“Yes, uh, ahhh only a slut for you,” you managed to choke out through his tight grip around your neck. You didn’t care how dumb you sounded. Your head was empty of thoughts other than his dick abusing your cunt.

The squelching sounds of skin against skin became more heightened mixed with the sound of the roaring shower.

He shoved his tongue down your throat, silencing your high pitched moans. His thrusts never faltered, but quickened as his pace became more sporadic, signaling he was close.

He brought his hand off your neck to rub your clit. The jolting pleasure from your clit and hitting your cervix caused you to have the most intense orgasm.

“Oh fuck, I-I’m…I’m” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you cried out, the pleasure consuming you.

Geto cooed and talked you through it in your ear with soft “there you go” and “good girl”.

He fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own until he grunted loudly and spilled in your cunt, filling you up.

He slowly pulled out of you, admiring his cum trailing down your legs.

“Look at the mess we made,” Geto chuckles

“Good thing we’re already in the shower”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk geto #jujustsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #geto x y/n #geto smut #geto x reader #geto x you #geto suguru #geto x female reader #jjk suguru #suguru geto smut

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raynehmms · 11 months ago

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

You wake up out of your sleep, just getting to bed after your long ass shift at Chili’s. “There’s no way” you roll your eyes as you answer your phone, your best friend’s name displaying. “I can tell you were rolling your eyes.” She squints her eyes at you, “Yeah cuz u were on a date what happened?” You laugh lightly your red silk bonnet eliminating in the light of your phone. She rolls her eyes at the question. “First of mind yours.” You laugh and sit up in your silk lined blanket falling off your body to your waist. “Ill mind mine when you actually get somewhere. How long have you been moping round bout a nigga that cheated on you?? I love you but this has to stop. Like immediately.” You stare into her eyes and watch as she looks down her eyebrows furrowed as tears threaten to prick her eyes. “And don’t you start crying again, go take a shower and go to bed I’ll call you tomorrow okay?” She sniffs a little “you right I’ll talk to you later byeee” you hang up the phone and put it on the charger falling back asleep. You wake up a little late, realizing that you rush to get up, having the opening shift after closing was hard as hell but you need the money so…who are you to complain? You take a quick shower and throw on a fresh uniform rushing out your house and damn near sprinting to your bus stop making sure not to miss the bus.

Couple hours later…

“Y’all niggas need to hurry up fo I leave y’all ass.” Ony says closing his car door. “You ain’t gon leave us.” Connie laughs. “Wanna bet?” Ony adjusts his hat and sunglasses as walks up to the Chilis , the rest of the group following behind. Adorning the same hat and glasses as he did. The bell jingles above the door as they walk in immediately getting bombarded with noise of families and waitresses rushing around the busy restaurant. “Hi how many people?” You say not looking up from the tablet In front of you already hearing the jingle. “Uhh 5 people, can we get a table away from people.” He lowers his head, his hat coving the view of his face. “”Weirdo”” you think, “well right now we are kind of busy so it’ll be hard for me to find a table away from people.” You look up at him and sigh, the tines from working to closing the previous night and opening this morning were hitting you like a truck. “We have a table it’s not clean right now but as soon as it is I’ll let you know. Can I get a name and number?” You look at him. “Uhhh well just go to table right now and you can clean it when we get over there.” You scoff, “that’s not my job sir, but whatever you like.” You shrug your shoulders and grab 5 menus and walk them to a dimly lit table in the corner of the restaurant. “I’ll be back give me a minute please.” You walk away as they sit down and ask the busser to clean the table and let the waiter know you sat a group in their section. You walk back up to the hostess booth, in the process walking past their table. “Aye can we get some water over here??” Connie yells a little. “Aye shit the fuck up, you the reason we got caught last time.” Jean rolls his eyes. You sigh and walk back over to them. “Sure by waiter will be with you shortly, anything else.” Annoyance lacing your tone. “Damn she fine asf.” Jean whispers just enough for you to hear making you roll your eyes. It also causes most of the group to look up at you. Ony’s eyes widened before settling back in the street outside. He speaks up. “Nah that's it, I wouldn't want to waste yo time.” You huff as you walk away walking to the waitress in that section, Aj. “Can you get table 14 some water so they can stop bothering me?” “You okay?” She asked, concerned. “Yea my head hurts a little, I’ll be ight almost time for me to go anyways.” You walk away and go back to the hostess area, sitting there doing nothing to your relief besides saying bye to the passing customers that are leaving the restaurant. After 2 hours or so you finally see the last group before you clock out and walk towards the hostess desk, Ony stopping before he walks out. “My bad for all the bs they be on. Can I get yo number? Maybe I can repay you or sum?” You laugh sarcastically. “Nah you good, have a nice night though.” You gesture towards the door not looking up, and clocking out via the tablet in front of you. And you walk away.

To clock out and grab your coat and bag from the locker, locking it after and walk out the staff entrance looking up at the bright sun as you slip your headphones into your ear and plug them into your phone playing the same playlist you’ve listened to since you were in middle school, and take out a pre roll you’ve had in your small ouch you keep in your bag for times of feeling down and drained like now. You walk to an abandoned park near your house and light your blunt while sitting on a bench away from the eye of people.

As you inhale you think of all the things that frustrated you that day, causing you to clench you unoccupied hand in anger, as you exhale you let it all go, realizing you have so much left of your day to be dwelling on stupid people with bland taste buds, you would know, you’ve tried the food at your job and to say there was no black people as cooks was obvious due to the unseasoned food they gave you. You put the blunt to your lips and continue smoking, not paying attention to the nature surrounding you, in your own world waiting for the bad memories to become numb to you, and the blissfulness to take over.

Word count: 1058

A/N- FIRST CHAPTER ngl I did take some inspiration from a Wattpad book I read a couple weeks ago cuz it was stuck in my head but nothing is completely direct (strike out by AMPj101 on wp)

#black reader #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon fluff #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #black yn #fanfic #spotify #aot x black reader #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot x female reader #aot x black y/n #aot x poc!reader

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the-californicationist · 1 year ago

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Guile & Guilt (Ch. 08)

Soap/Reader — MDNI 18+

Sorry for the wait as usual. Hope y’all can forgive me!

/:/:/:/:/:/:/

FEBRUARY — FRIDAY: 7 days until the wedding

In the month or so after Christmas, your relationship with Johnny had progressed considerably. He was on a particularly challenging tour, but you only heard about his work in sparse mentions. Most of his conversations were centered around your relationship “after we tell Pidge”.

It was all he wanted to talk about.

“After we tell Pidge, we can look for a place together in Glasgow. What do you say, lass?”

“After we tell Pidge, we can take trips with them. Always wanted to see Iceland.”

“After we tell Pidge…”

And on and on and on. It wasn’t that you weren’t excited to be with him. You adored him, and he seemed to feel the same way about you. But, telling Pidge was scaring you out of your damn mind. In the worst case scenario, you’d be losing your best friend and the man that you…

Careful, that dark voice was back in your head , don’t want to say the word, huh?

The man that you… liked a considerable amount. Not love. Love was a commitment. You were not in love.

The dark voice cackled. You ignored it.

You were going to see him this weekend for the combination stag and hen party, and you could think of little else. But, you had plenty to work on. As the maid of honor, this was your time to shine. You needed to prepare for more than just seeing Johnny. In fact, you were about to have six girls at your tiny apartment for a slumber party tomorrow night. The whole 600 square feet of your place was decorated in gold glitter and streamers. There were big B-R-I-D-E letters above your bed, and a giant inflatable diamond ring was propped up on your futon. You’d already sprayed Marlowe twice with the water bottle for threatening it with her claws.

Tonight, though, you were alone. You had asked Johnny if he would fly in early, but he hadn’t been able to confirm. So, you were sitting on your bed, staring at your phone, dressed only in his shirt, praying for some miracle.

You stayed up as late as you could, but still no call.

SATURDAY — Early morning: 6 days until the wedding

Your phone buzzed where it lay against your chest. You slowly awoke, and it was still dark outside. Bleary and only semi-conscious, you picked it up without looking at the screen,

“Hello?” You croaked.

“Mo mèirleach,” he whispered, “Open the door, hen. It’s fuckin’ frigid.”

“What?” You didn’t understand. Johnny was outside? You looked at the clock. It was 0311.

“I’m downstairs! Buzz me up.”

You did, and then you waited, waking up more and more as you stood in the kitchen, drinking some water to clear your dry throat.

He knocked softly, and you let him in. Immediately, and without so much as dropping his rucksack, he pulled you into his arms. You smelled his sweat, a strong hint of fire or smoke, and something you couldn’t quite place. It was almost like gasoline, but not quite. He’d come straight from the field.

“Hey,” he pressed his forehead to yours and kissed you gently, smelling your skin and nuzzling into your hair.

“Hey,” you smiled up at him, hugging him a little tighter.

Having him back was making you feel like no time had passed at all. He held you just as he did when he told you goodbye in December, and now, all of January felt like some wasted dream.

You looked behind him,

“Where are the others? I thought you said they’d be coming to the party this weekend.”

“Put them up at a wee hotel. The Indigo, just a few blocks away. But, I’ve been sleepin’ on the fuckin’ floor too many nights, now. And I wanna be in my woman’s arms instead.”

His woman. Your heart clenched in your chest. He noticed your emotional response to his words; always the observant one. His smile felt so good, even though he had caught you in his snare,

“Aye. You’re my woman, aren’t you?”

Huge, rough hands warmed your skin as they snaked underneath your shirt, reaching up across your belly, finding your hanging breasts and squeezing them ever so gently.

“Shower with me, lass. I’m right filthy.”

“Alright,” you nodded, and he pulled your shirt off the rest of the way, discovering the nothing you were wearing underneath.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Johnny lamented, holding you at arm’s length to study your skin and curves with a deep admiration, “Look at you, mèirleach. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m dreamin’.”

You led him to the bathroom, which you doubted was big enough for the both of you, and he stripped off all of his dirty clothes. You helped him, peeling him apart, layer by layer, discovering him in pieces.

His broad chest filled your vision in the tiny washroom, and you latched onto his nipple, tasting the salt from his sweat as you did and listening to him moan. He laughed from the sudden sensation of it,

“It’s sensitive, lass. Easy…”

Your eyes found his, showing him that you knew what it felt like, and you did not relent. You enjoyed watching him squirm beneath you, his hands resting on the side of your neck, threatening to pull you away when he became overwhelmed.

You gave him a break, kissing across his tattooed ribs and over his belly. He lifted your face up to his, pressing you against the bathroom counter, growling in whispers at you,

“Careful, thief. Don’t go givin’ me ideas.”

“What kind of ideas, Johnny?” You teased, dragging his boxers down over his plump ass to squeeze his cheeks in your hands.

“Ideas about what I’d like to put in that fuckin’ mouth of yours.”

He grabbed your hand and shoved it onto his hard cock, still covered by his boxer briefs, the fabric askew and taut, ready to come off.

“See what you fuckin’ do to me, thief?”

You smiled, staring down at the evidence of what you had done to him. You took his hand and slowly moved it between your legs, letting him curl and experimental finger up just far enough to dip into your wetness.

“See what you do to me?”

He shuddered, his body falling forward, and he caught himself with his free hand on the countertop, pinning you beneath him. He was playing inside of you with his fingertip, as achingly slowly and gently as could be, barely moving it, basking in your warmth. His face contorted into a twisted grimace, and he grunted,

“Fuckin’ hell, mèirleach. Get in the damn shower, or I’ll have you right here, lass.”

The shower curtain rings hissed across their metal rod as he followed you inside. You washed your hair, and you used your soapy hands to wash his. The soap turned brown with dirt and sand, and you made a face, laughing,

“Johnny! You are filthy.”

“Yeah, we ran into some trouble at the end of our mission. Lost contact with base. Had to camp in the wee mountains for a few nights, tryin’ not to freeze to death.”

“Holy shit…”

You pitied him, using your vanilla scented soap to scrub down his body for him, letting him be treated to your sudsy massage.

“Knowin’ I was comin’ back to you kept me goin’. I dreamt about this wee shower, hen. Even Ghost was surprised that I was able to keep my whingin’ to a minimum. But, I knew you were here and I wasnae gonna let anythin’ stop me from comin’ home to you.”

He bent to kiss you, and you kissed him back, letting the water wash over you both, bathing you in the heat of each other. He pulled away, grinning like he’d won something, and you felt the blush rise into your cheeks.

You made the hand signal for him to turn around and he spun, giving you his wide back, planting both of his hands on the wall like you were going to search him.

You started at his neck, washing away days of dirt and grime, feeling his swollen muscles pull and push against his bones. He had a new tattoo on his spine. It was a little Gaelic word that you couldn’t read.

With your fingertip, you traced over the black ink, softly rubbing over the raised skin, healed but fresh. He stilled, realizing you’d noticed it.

“Gealladh. It means ‘promise’.”

You wiped it clear of soap and lay your lips to it, kissing it softly, making him tremble beneath you. You tried to pronounce it, whispering it against his skin.

The rest of the shower went quickly, and by the time you were clean, he was ready to get dirty again, fondling you and rubbing across his curved length hungrily.

He wrapped you in your towel and watched you braid your hair, kissing your neck and sharing your toothbrush. You tried not to be grossed out by it, but you made a face and he rolled his eyes, spitting out the paste into your sink and trying to kiss you with his messy lips. You giggled, leaving him in the bathroom to finish up.

The cool air in your apartment made you clamber to get under the covers, eager to warm up and anxious for him to join you. He sauntered out of the bathroom looking like some Greek god, wet and tanned, tattooed and scarred, fresh from the bonds of war.

He threw his towel down with yours and climbed into bed next to you, curling you up in his arms, sighing with the most delighted contentment. His big jaw pressed into the side of your neck, looking for purchase, and he began to suck and lick at your skin, traveling down your shoulder to your nape, sending shivers down your arms.

“Did you miss me, mo mèirleach?” His voice was so quiet, you could barely hear him.

“I did, mo chridhe,” you whispered back, turning your body to face him.

He took both of your hands in both of his and kissed your forehead. All of his sexual overtones and lurid advances in the shower had somehow been washed away, and as the orange blush of dawn came through your window, he looked changed. His hair was soft, the mohawk all grown out and curling at the tips, his eyes glassy and full of something that looked suspiciously like hope.

“I know this has been hard on you, lass. I’ve been more than just a wee bit selfish, and I want you to know I’ll make it right. I promise you that. Do you hear me?”

You nodded, pressing your cheek to his chest, inching closer to him. He wrapped you in a tight hug, holding you too close.

Did you believe him? Would everything work out for the best? Or were you continuing down a path that would lead to ruin? How easy it was for him to convince you of the opposite. He could lead you like a lamb to the slaughter, and you’d go willingly, bleating up at him with all your love and affection as he pushed you into the chute.

His arm became heavy, and you heard his breaths lengthen in his chest, and you knew he was asleep. You had an alarm set, so you curled up in his warmth, letting him doze, allowing yourself to sink into the murky blackness of sleep along with him.

SATURDAY — Lunchtime: 6 days until the wedding

Johnny had changed into something clean and left you in bed, kissing your face and promising all sorts of filthy things to you after the bar crawl tonight. He begged you to dance with him when you wound up at the club, washing away your worries about Pidge, claiming she’d be too drunk to notice. You rushed him out, warning him she’d be here for lunch, and washed your sheets.

Sure enough, your phone rang and Pidge was outside your apartment, screaming with six other girls to be buzzed up not an hour after Johnny left, and you breathed a sigh of relief they’d missed each other coming and going.

You had the whole day planned out. Lunch was at a little cafe near the river, perfect for a photo op or two. Then, you’d booked a nail salon for mani-pedis for the whole squad. After that, it was back to the apartment to put on your faces before going “out-out”.

For the most part, the day had been a wild success. Pidge was already a little tipsy from the non-stop mimosas, and even though your bank account had seen better days, it wasn’t that bad. Now, you were in the middle of the evening ferality. Someone had ordered a pizza and there was hairspray in places you didn’t think hairspray could go. Marlowe was hiding in her cubby under your bed, and you were already done getting ready.

You’d told everyone it was black and white themed. Ham and Pidge would be in white, with all of you in black, and the goal at the end of the night was for them to find each other by hopping from bar to bar. The stag would chase the hen through downtown Glasgow, and you’d planned to have them all end up at The Berkeley Suite.

There were girls everywhere. It was like a bomb had gone off in your apartment, and there wasn’t really a space for privacy except for the bathroom (as long as you shooed everyone out of it first).

“I’ll just be a second!” You shouted over the thumping music, closing the door behind them.

You took care of business and spent a brief minute checking your phone. You had two texts from Johnny, and when you opened them, your breath caught in your throat.

Mo Chridhe: open this when youre alone thief

Mo Chridhe: blacksuit.jpg

Johnny had sent you a mirror selfie of his outfit, and he looked stunning. You couldn’t believe it was him. You’d never seen him so dressed up. His hair was shaven on the sides, the mohawk back to its full potential, and his suit was a gorgeous black with velvet lapels and a gold chain between the button holes. He wore no tie, instead letting the first two buttons hang open rakishly, showing off his tanned chest.

You texted him back:

You: you are still so damn hot lol

Mo Chridhe: show me you

You obeyed, taking a racy selfie in the bathroom mirror just like he had done. You showed off your cleavage , and the short, high cut of the dress as it hugged your ass. You tried your best to be pouty, just like all the Instagram models, but you weren’t sure if you succeeded.

Mo Chridhe: i might be the luckiest cunt alive or im dreamin

You: lol ;)

Mo Chridhe: ham might be chasin pidge all night but ill be chasin you

You smiled down at your phone before closing the app and returning to the fray.

Glittered, glammed, and ready for a night of debauchery, you took your phone off its charger and made your way out into the cold evening air. Pidge had brought a jacket, but Cherise had decided to go without, claiming that hot girls didn’t get cold. You were definitely cold, so you wondered what that implied.

The first stop was The Variety Bar. You had texted Johnny and told him to warn you before their first bar choice so that you could pay the tab and bolt before Hamish could put his hands on Pidge. But, it didn’t really work out like that. You had all ended up as one big group, and spent most of the time jokingly keeping them from kissing each other. Price held up a wet coaster between their mouths which sent Pidge coughing and spitting, causing enough of a ruckus that you decided to move to the next spot.

Johnny sat with you at the bar while you paid, trying his best to keep his hands off of you.

“Lookin’ like a right goddess tonight, you are.”

“Stop it,” you smiled, “No flirting allowed while your sister is literally right behind us.”

“Och,” he shook his head, “She’s in her own wee world. Where to next, lass?”

You slid the check back to the bartender and thanked him, turning to Johnny and smirking triumphantly, knowing he still needed to pay before he could follow you,

“Don’t you hunt people for a living? Come and get me.”

You left him at the bar, frozen with a delightful look of surprise on his face. You found Pidge and the other girls outside.

“Alright,” you smiled, “Onward. Let’s head over to Max’s.”

“Oh, God,” Anjali sighed, “You really want her to blackout, huh?”

“Fuck it! Max’s it is, ladies!” Pidge screamed.

Everyone cheered and marched on after her. She cuddled into your arm as you walked,

“Thank you so much for this, babes. You’re the best friend a girl could ask for, you know that?”

“You are, too,” you kissed her on her temple and squeezed her arm a bit tighter.

By the time you’d had two drinks at Max’s, Hamish’s clan found you again. Gaz was the one who spotted you through the window, holding his hands up to the glass and pointing you out.

“Uh oh,” you smiled, “Last call, girls.”

Cherise laughed,

“I don’t know why we’re running. Might as well just party with them.”

“It’s tradition, right?” Bekah rolled her eyes.

“Well,” Pidge shrugged, “You all can wait here then, if you prefer the boys to me.”

“No! Pidge, that’s not it, babe,” Cherise protested.

Pidge drunkenly waved her off,

“It’s fine, no worries. See you at Berkeley’s. How about that?”

Pidge stormed off out the door, and you followed behind trying to get her to calm down. She eventually did, drinking the water you had bought for her. But, that was how the group got split. Half the boys ended up with you and Pidge and Anjali, and the other half waited at Max’s until the happy hour rounds were over.

You’d gotten all settled in at Berkeley, listening to the loud club music, letting the high of your buzz wash over you, trying not to think about how nice it would be to have Johnny here, dancing with you like he promised.

Then, Pidge realized she forgot her jacket, so she sent you back to the other bar. You left her with Gaz and Ghost, and Price wandered out into the street with you.

“‘Bout time Hamish finally caught his hen anyway,” you speculated as you walked with him.

“Aye,” he agreed, “And maybe your stag as well.”

Your eyes darted up to him and then checked over your shoulder, just to make sure Pidge wasn’t behind you.

Price continued,

“Are you sure keepin’ him a secret is the right thing? He’s dyin’ to tell her. Fuck, he was tellin’ people he didn’t even know about you.”

You smiled,

“Yeah, I know. I just want the wedding to be about her. Nothing is ever about her, you know? She deserves to have a day where she doesn’t need to consider other people’s feelings for once.”

“What about your feelings?” Price asked.

You didn’t answer him. You just shrugged and kept walking. Suddenly, you heard screaming behind you,

“Wait! Wait up!”

Pidge and the rest of the crew rushed over to you and Price.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“We’re gonna surprise Hamish this time,” Pidge smiled, pulling out a big confetti popper from her purse.

“Oh, God,” you grinned, looping your arm through hers and dragging her along.

Nothing was going according to plan that night, but you were so tired that it was hard for you to care. You weren’t even sure if Hamish’s group was still at the other bar, and you hadn’t heard a thing from Bekah or Cherise.

Finally, you made it back to Max’s. Just as you were about to open the door, it burst open and out poured Johnny, tangled in Bekah’s arms. She was giggling and kissing his cheek, leaving streaks of purple lipstick all over his freshly shaven skin. He was holding her close to him, his fingers digging into her side so tightly.

You knew what that felt like.

You gasped, stepping back, stunned. He looked right into your eyes and stopped. The whole world came to a grinding halt. All of the time that you had spent together seemed to lay out in front of you, prostrating itself, and being found unworthy. You felt nothing. Just a creeping numbness that leaked into your core, a fire burning without kindling, unable to be extinguished.

“Och, Jesus and all the fuckin’ saints,” Pidge threw her hands up, “Couldnae even wait until after the party to get your hands into one of my mates, could you? Arsehole. Get outta the way.”

“No, tha’s not it, Pidge!” He frowned, “Bekah doesnae —”

“Bekah, what?” Pidge spat in his face, “Bekah doesnae care that you’ll turn up next month or next year or next week in a box with the wee Scottish flag draped over it? Okay. Now, move yourself from the door, Jonathan.”

Bekah was sort of octopusing herself around him, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders, sucking on his earlobe, caring very little about the Scottish flag no matter where it was draped.

Johnny was trying to fight her off now, suddenly angry at Pidge,

“What did you just say to me, Brigette?”

“Oh, shut up! You’re just like your da, and you’ll end up dead like him, too. See?” Pidge turned to you suddenly, eyes wild with fury, “This is why I warned you, Johnny MacTavish is a fuckin’ widowmaker. And that’s all he’ll ever be.”

She finally made it around her brother and wrenched the door open, disappearing into the club. Johnny still had Bekah in his arms, and you couldn’t be there anymore. You turned and walked in the direction of your apartment, miles away but hell-bent on getting back there.

“Hey! Wait! Thief, please. This isn’t what it looks like,” his voice was cold and distant. You didn’t turn around to listen. You weren’t sure what it looked like, but you didn’t need to see it to know how it felt.

Johnny could have Bekah. He was allowed to have her. He was not allowed to have you, and you couldn’t have him. That much was clear now. You should’ve listened to your friend. You’d known all along, hadn’t you?

“Wait, mèirleach!”

You spun on him like a snake, striking out sure and true,

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

He could see in your eyes that you were serious, venomous as you were in your delivery. His eyes looked desperate, like a kicked dog, but he didn’t let her go. She smiled and waved at you, looking drunker than you’d ever seen anyone look. You tasted the bile in your mouth from your disgust.

Price jogged to keep up with you, and he grabbed your arm,

“Wait, girl. Just wait a second.”

You jerked your hand away and hailed a cab that was pulled over on your side of the street. You climbed in and shut the door, begging the cabbie to drive quickly, and he did. You stared out the window, watching all of the lights blind you as they seared into your eyes, burning the images you’d seen that night brightly into your memory.

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Chapter 09

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