#when the truth of the matter is that SHE HAD NO OTHER CHOICE

[sxcretricciardo]

I’m back… pt.3

social media au

part two here

•

f1 BREAKING: Norris and Y/L/N are out of the race ⚠️

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username1 omg they’re gonna end up killing each other

username2 damn, but it was clearly Lando’s fault

-> username3 right?? Why didn’t he leave enough space???

username4 the fact that Y/N got out of the car and almost threw hands at Lando she’s a BADASS

-> username5 she isn’t taking shit from him, go girl 🤭

-> username6 as she SHOULD

username7 Oscar asking on the radio if she was okay before asking about his OWN teammate 👀

•

real life

The post-race chaos was a blur as you stormed into the McLaren garage, your pulse hammering in your ears. Every muscle in your body was tense, your mind replaying the sickening crunch of metal and the stomach-lurching spin off the track. The collision with Lando had been entirely avoidable, and you knew it.

Lando was sitting on a workbench, still in his race suit, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. When he looked up and saw you, his jaw clenched. He set his water bottle down, clearly bracing himself for what was coming.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Lando?” you spat, your voice sharp enough to cut glass.

He stood, matching your intensity. “Don’t start with me, Y/N. You were just as much at fault.”

“Don’t you dare try to put this on me!” you snapped, stepping closer. “I gave you enough room! You turned in on me like you wanted to take us both out!”

His eyes flared with anger, but he didn’t respond right away, and that silence was all the confirmation you needed.

“This wasn’t just a racing incident,” you pressed, your voice shaking with fury. “That was personal. What were you thinking, huh? That you’d knock some sense into me? Scare me? Or were you just trying to hurt me because you still can’t stand the fact that I walked away from you?”

“Stop,” he said, his voice low but warning.

“No, I won’t stop!” you shouted. “You’ve been acting like this ever since I left you—since I finally decided I deserved better than someone who cheats!”

The words hung in the air between you like a live wire, and you saw the flicker of guilt cross his face before he masked it with anger.

“Don’t bring that up again,” he said tightly, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

“Why not? It’s the truth, isn’t it?” you shot back. “You ruined us, Lando. You did. And now you’re trying to ruin me on the track, too?”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t like that out there.”

“Then what was it like?” you demanded, your voice shaking. “Because from where I’m standing, it looked like you were trying to prove a point.”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he muttered.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you said bitterly.

Lando looked up at you, his expression cracking just enough for you to see the regret underneath. “I lost my head, okay? Seeing you… seeing you so happy, like none of it even mattered—it got to me.”

You stared at him, disbelief flooding through you. “So you risked my safety—our safety—because you’re jealous? Because you can’t stand the fact that I’ve moved on?”

“Maybe I can’t,” he admitted, his voice quiet but raw. “Maybe I hate seeing you with them—watching you smile at other guys like you used to smile at me. Do you know how hard it is to see that and know it’s my fault? That I’m the one who screwed it up?”

Your breath caught, his confession hitting you like a punch to the gut. But it didn’t soften your anger. If anything, it made it worse.

“You don’t get to play the victim here, Lando,” you said coldly. “You made your choice. You cheated. And I walked away because I deserve better than someone who couldn’t even respect me.”

His shoulders sagged, the weight of your words clearly hitting him, but you weren’t done.

“And now? Now you’re letting your jealousy and regret turn into something dangerous. You could’ve ended my career out there today. Or worse.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”

“Sorry isn’t enough,” you replied, stepping back. “I’ve moved on, Lando. Maybe it’s time you try to do the same.”

He didn’t say anything as you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there in the quiet of the garage. But as you stepped out into the paddock, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over—that whatever unresolved emotions still lingered between you would find a way to surface again.

•

yourusername not the result I wanted for this weekend… but I’ll keep pushing to get back those lost points! See you next weekend 💪🏻🫶🏻

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username1 clearly not your fault! That penalty was well given to Lando!

fernandoalo_oficial you got this chica 💪🏻

alex_albon let’s go! glad you’re not hurt

username2 get it girl!! 😍

oscarpiastri 💪🏻

username3 the next dts season is gonna be INSANE I can’t wait 🤭

•

real life

The day had been long and emotionally exhausting. After your fight with Lando, you had barely made it through the mandatory media debriefs without snapping at someone. Now, standing in the paddock under the setting sun, you were relieved that the weekend was finally over.

“Rough day, huh?” Fernando’s familiar voice broke through your thoughts.

You turned to find your teammate leaning casually against the wall, his helmet bag slung over one shoulder. Despite the chaos of the day, Fernando always seemed composed, a stark contrast to your current state.

“That’s putting it mildly,” you replied, managing a weak smile.

He nodded knowingly, then tilted his head slightly. “I heard you’re heading to the Aston Martin headquarters tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “Have to go over some data with the engineers.”

“Same here,” he said, his tone casual. “Why don’t you skip the hassle of a commercial flight and ride with me? My jet’s leaving in an hour.”

The offer caught you off guard, but it also sounded like the perfect way to escape the mess of today. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Fernando said with a small smile. “It’ll be nice to have some company.”

An hour later, you were seated across from Fernando on his private jet, a glass of wine in hand. The plush interior and quiet hum of the engines felt like a world away from the chaos of the paddock.

“To surviving another race weekend,” Fernando said, raising his glass with a smirk.

You chuckled, clinking your glass against his. “Barely.”

As the jet cruised through the night sky, the wine kept flowing, and so did the conversation. Fernando was surprisingly easy to talk to, his sharp wit and dry humor making you laugh more than you had all weekend. You found yourself relaxing in his company, the tension from earlier slowly melting away.

But somewhere between the second and third glass, the atmosphere began to shift. His gaze lingered a little too long, and your laughs turned into soft smiles. You couldn’t ignore the way his voice dipped when he said your name, or the way his hand brushed yours when he reached for the bottle.

It was reckless, you knew that, but when he leaned closer, his dark eyes searching yours for permission, you didn’t stop him. His lips were on yours before you could think, the kiss slow and deliberate, leaving no room for doubt about what he wanted.

One thing led to another, and soon you found yourself tangled in the sheets of the jet’s private cabin. It was a blur of heated whispers, soft gasps, and the kind of passion you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Afterward, as you lay beside him, reality began to sink in. You sat up, pulling the blanket around you, your mind racing.

“This can’t happen again,” you said, your voice firm despite the lingering warmth of his touch.

Fernando propped himself up on one elbow, his expression unreadable. “I know,” he said simply.

“I mean it, Fernando,” you pressed, turning to face him. “We’re teammates. This… this could complicate everything. It was a mistake.”

He studied you for a moment, then nodded. “I get it. One time, no strings.”

His calm response surprised you. You had expected more pushback, maybe even an argument, but his easy acceptance only reinforced why you had always respected him.

“Nothing changes between us,” he added, his voice steady. “We’re still teammates. Still focused on the team. This doesn’t leave this jet.”

You exhaled in relief, appreciating his maturity. “Thank you.”

Fernando gave you a small smile, his hand brushing against yours briefly. “Get some rest. We’ve got work to do tomorrow.”

As you settled back into the seat, your thoughts swirled. You told yourself it was a one-time lapse in judgment, a fleeting moment of weakness.

•

yourusername alexa play “kill bill” by SZA 🔪

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oscarpiastri I hope you liked the cake

-> yourusername you spoil me too much, pastry🥐

-> georgerussel63 you’ve never sent me cake, I’m jealous oscarpiastri

-> yourusername come get your man carmenmmundt 😴

username1 omg Oscar sent her the cake?? What am I missing???

-> username2 RIGHT?? her dating her ex’s teammate would be an amazing revenge 😭

username3 the caption 💀

•

thatf1podcast here’s a sneak peek of our episode with the one and only Y/N Y/L/N 👀

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username1 I need all the teaaaaa 😏

yourusername it was a pleasure 🤭

username2 I NEED THIS EPISODE NOW

username3 I’m loving it 😌

•

tag list: @samantharaytanner @stressed-cherry @anamiad00msday @book-obsesseds-world @hurtblossom @tagteamedbitch @hoeforsirius @jxnellat @tillyt04 @danielshoe @tvdtw4ever @raynetargaryan2 @sadiemack9 @henna006 @wordesthatics @whosluce @mikaalvesreal @widow-cevans @honethatty12 @littlegrapejuice @bakingpiastries @ietss

- part 4 coming soon

[pyxxiestyxx]

Class-D

"Umm....?"

You stare at the affini sitting across from you, who is sipping casually from a large mug of tea.  She had grown close to you over the last year, but the last few weeks in particular had been...more?  She suddenly seemed intent on pushing you towards florethood, and more specifically towards one of the more...simple lifestyles.

'There are as many ways to be a floret as there are florets', as the saying goes.  You considered yourself an outgoing and independent type, one who had (with effort and support) gone far, despite any neurodivergencies that often ground progress to a slow crawl.  But the way Ea would look at you...the things she said...well, like what she JUST said, for example.

"I'm merely suggesting that you give it a try, dear.  No contracts, no implants...unless you want those.  I'm referring to something a bit simpler."

You frown, crossing your arms.  "And what exactly do you have in mind, Ea?"

A brilliantly red flower blossoms before your lips, the needles tip glistening green.  "I give you a Class-D, of course.  One that prevents those pesky inhibitions and falsehoods from getting in the way.  And then you and I can chat a little, and I may ask you to do a few things, to see if they make you feel good.  Is that really so dangerous, sweetie?"

"I..." Yes, of course it was...was what you wanted to say.  But if it really was just a Class-D, then it wouldnt change your mind.  They were there to reveal the truth, and the truth of the matter was that you were capable and competent, and it's about time she figured that out.  Sighing, you roll up your sleeve and extend your arm, wincing as the injection slips into your skin.  The verdant drug travels up your arm and to your brain, and an....interesting feeling seems to settle on you.  Not the fresh-out-of-a-dryer blanket of a Class-A, but a slightly warm sheet, perhaps.  You blink a few times, then look at Ea expectantly.

She gently snaps her fingers at you, then points at the floor next to her seat.  "No no, darling.  We aren't going to one-half ass it here.  I intend to show you what I mean, through actions as much as words."

You gawk at her, blushing furiously.  "But...but I don't want to do that!"

"Why?"

"It's embarrassing!"

Ea tilts her head, a coy look passing through violet eyes.  "The only one who thinks it is embarrassing is you, petal.  No one else in this case will care in the least, and you already know what I think you need." She smiles. "If it helps, just think of it as me...coercing you into it.  If anyone asks, you can explain that you didn't have a choice here."

You squint your eyes at her, but your gaze soon follows her arm down to her pointed finger.  Crumbs, she really was serious.  You look around the cafe again, noting how the others weren't even looking your way.

Blushing, you let yourself go limp, flowing off the lip of the seat and into a kneel as you shuffle towards her spot.  When you arrive, you keep your gaze firmly fixed to the left, your hands grasping themselves out of a need to hold onto something.

You wait for her to speak...but she stays silent.  She waits until you give in, until you sneak a glance at her, and only then does she cup your cheek in one large hand as she whispers, "Good Pet."

"I...y-you...it-" she slides her hand over your mouth, preventing the words from haphazardly tumbling out.

"Sweetheart, I said we would chat.  I never said you would get to use people words~"

The hand returns to your cheek, a thumb gently brushing across your lips as she smiles triumphantly.  "Now then, pet.  You are a wonderfully skilled sophont, make no mistake.  But a trained pet is still a pet, honey.  And not everything trained into you is Good."

You open your mouth to protest...only to let the words die in your throat at the warning in her eyes.  Instead, the softest little slip of a whimper manages to drip from your tongue.

Ea smiles wider, her other hand joining the first on your head as she begins to pet you, long firm pulls of her fingers through your hair.  "You know that you push yourself too hard, don't you?  That you keep moving, because the inertia is part of how you stay upright.  You need the constant motion, because you're worried that as soon as you slow down, you'll topple over and shatter."

You try to deny it.  You try to disprove it.  But in the end, you are forced to admit it to yourself:

She's right.

She gently brushed a tear from the corner of your eye, softer than the petals of her flowers.  "But that needn't happen, honey.  Not if you have an Owner to care for you, and hold you close, and keep you safe.  You know this too, don't you?"

You did.  You do.  And it hurts.  And it heals.

Your eyes make a desperate plea towards her, though for what, you aren't sure.  She seemed to be waiting for it, though, because her eyes glow golden ichor.  "And so, since you are being honest with me, I shall be in turn with you.  I will not wait a single second longer to give you what you want, need, crave.  You are my pet, honey.  I will Own you, I will train you, I will condition away any independence and wrestle your thoughts into simple submission.  And, in the end, you will thank me for it."

Her hand brushes one last time over your head as it makes its way to the back of your neck, tracing a line where you know the implant will soon reside.  You shudder as she presses down, down, Down, pushing your face into her vines as you finally are honest with yourself and admit what you realize you always wanted, always needed.

You surrender.

[kurogane2512]

could you please make smut bottom!chameleon fic, kuro? I'm starving😞

Same anon same.... always starving for more Chameleon content 😔

18+ CONTENT

Game: Path to Nowhere

Characters: Chameleon x fem!reader (Chief)

Type: Smut with little plot

Your encounter with Chameleon had been most surprising, and one of the toughest detainments you handled so far. In the end, you reached a mutual agreement with her where you became her 'toy' while she accepted arrest and stayed in the bureau. You thought keeping up with her antics would be a pain, but she was surprisingly cooperative outside of a few incidents. And, what did becoming her 'toy' really mean? Well, you certainly weren't expecting to have to satisfy her in all sorts of ways— even sexually. Initially hesitant to do such things with your Sinner, you realized it was essential for her recovery. Not to mention, you couldn't deny she was beautiful, stunning even.

It was an ordinary day when you were seated in your office, buried in bundles of paperwork. Time quickly ran as you didn’t come out at all, determined to complete things as soon as possible. It didn’t help how you had various meetings scheduled throughout the day that hindered your progress and added more to the never-ending pile. You scratched your head as you dragged your pen across the paper, the simple object feeling heavy in your hands by the continuous usage. A sudden knock on your door was heard but you couldn’t even look up and simply allowed the person to come in.

“You look miserable, Chief~”

A familiar sultry voice spoke and you finally looked up, your eyes widened at the guest.

“Chameleon? Is something the matter?”

Chameleon smiled and closed the door behind her then walked closer to you, standing beside your chair and glancing at the stack of papers on your desk.

“Hard at work as always.... But, you do realize you have been working non-stop since morning today?”

She remarked before leaning against the edge of the desk with her arms folded over her chest. You let out a sigh then went back to focusing on the documents in front of you.

“I have no other choice. If everything is okay then could you leave me alone for now? I really need to complete all this.”

Chameleon’s eyes narrowed at your statement and she sat up on the desk now then leaned near you, tracing her hand over your face.

“Surely you can spare a few moments to assist your dear Sinner?~”

You had no energy nor time to deal with her and felt slightly annoyed at her provocation.

“If you want to toy with me then you’ll have to wait more. I’m afraid I won’t be available tonight.”

You firmly replied while continuing with your work, not even glancing at her tempting figure beside you. Chameleon now placed her hand behind your head and caressed your nape while twirling some of your hair strands in her fingers.

“I can make it quick for you, my dear Chief. You simply have to do as I say~”

You tried to duck your head out of her hold, not liking the intruding presence.

“Please, Chameleon. I really can’t toni-“

Your comms rung before you could complete your words. Glancing at the clock, you suddenly recalled you had a meeting scheduled right now and had to take this call.

“I need to work, Chameleon. Please, don’t disturb me for now.” You tried to insist as politely as possible to make her go away but she seemed hellbent on staying and having her way.

You stood up from your seat and walked away to another corner of the office, hoping to not be disturbed. Chameleon watched you silently, her eyes squinting further as she didn’t like how you kept denying and ignoring her. In truth, she had a slightly different reason to come here tonight. She indeed wanted to use you like always, but she wanted to do it differently than usual. You stood with your back towards her and faced the wall as you talked, she had no interest in the conversation and waited for a few moments until her patience ran thin. She removed her spectacles then leisurely paced towards you, her heels tapping on the floor.

You were lost in the conversation and didn’t hear her movements, nor her presence behind you once she reached up to you. You merely felt her arms wrapping around you then were suddenly pushed forward a few steps and leaned on the wall with one hand as Chameleon embraced you from behind with a rapid force. Her arms looped over your shoulders tightly and her body pressed to yours, her lips grazing your ear as she breathed. You let out a small gasp from the force of being pushed, making the person on the other end of the call question your wellbeing.

“A-Ah, I’m fine. Could you give me a moment?” you spoke on the call and looked at Chameleon over your shoulder with a frown.

“Chameleon, what are you doing?! I told you I-!�� you whispered in a panicked tone while trying to move out of her hold, but her grip only tightened further and she let out a sultry chuckle.

“And you are free to do your work, Chief. Don’t mind me, I’ll just help myself~”

You were about to protest further but the voice in your comms spoke again and you had to focus back, hoping Chameleon wouldn’t do something drastic. However, your worst fears came true. While she remained fairly quiet throughout, her hands and lips didn’t stop moving all over your body. Her lips travelled up and down your neck to plant kisses, occasionally licking up your ear lobe and nibbling it, while her hands were busy trying to undress you but teasingly holding back. Her fingers would graze the buttons of your shirt and pants, and every time you prepared yourself for the outcome but she’d pull away and continue her previous ministrations.

You were desperately holding back from making any strange sounds, biting down on your lower lip whenever she’d lick your ear or bracing against the wall when she’d tease to take off your clothes. This was indeed her just playing with you, making you restless and worked up. But you didn’t expect her to remain so civilized and actually wait for you to get free. Her left hand now dragged across your body and grasped your head then tilted it forward with a gentle push, her fingers then brushed aside your neck and exposed your nape followed by her attaching her lips to your skin, kissing and sucking on some spots.

“Mmh-!” you let out a muffled whine when her teeth closed in on your nape.

“Haah.... Chief....~” she softly moaned in your ear, and you were praying the person on the call couldn’t hear.

“Hm? Are you okay, Chief? You have been sounding rather discomforted for a while.” The caller questioned.

“I-I’m fine! Sorry about that. Could you repeat what you were saying?”

“It’s okay, this is sufficient for now. I will connect with you tomorrow, have a good night.”

The call finally ended. You had barely pressed the button on your comm when Chameleon turned you over to face her and pushed you back to the wall more, now pressing you against it completely.

“Ngh-! Chameleon, what is wrong with you? Why are you acting this way?” you spoke in an annoyed tone. Her response was her usual smirk while her hands dragged down your arms, her fingers tracing your wrist then intertwining your palms together.

“You should know by now how I am, Chief. How is this any different from our usual sessions?~”

Indeed, this was just her way of doing things. But you couldn’t help but notice something was different, though you couldn’t pinpoint what. Chameleon gazed into your eyes and conveyed some kind of burning need, a need you’d rarely seen from her. You really didn’t understand what she wanted here.

“....Just get it done with then, I have lot of work to do.” You gave a rather uninterested answer with your gaze averted.

She squinted her eyes and shockingly let go of your hands then stepped back from you and turned around.

“Hah~ No fun in it if you act this way, Chief. Call me once you are free then~”

She waved her hand before picking up her spectacles from your desk and putting them on. You watched as she walked towards the door and stared in disbelief. You didn’t expect her to give up so easily, you knew you disappointed her. Logically, it was good for you that she gave up. But your mind couldn’t be at ease when you remembered the look on her face and the tone of her voice in the end, you couldn’t see her feeling that way. You gritted your teeth and swiftly walked to her then grabbed her wrist before she could go out.

“Wait, Chameleon.”

She turned around to face you and was about to say something when you pulled her towards yourself and connected your lips together. Her eyes widened for a second but she wasted no time to wrap her arms around your neck and kiss back passionately. Your lips moved feverishly while she pushed you back but you instead pinned her on the edge of your desk. She moaned into the kiss when the desk hit her, her fingers lacing through your hair and clenching the strands to pull you deeper into the kiss. You made space to stand between her legs and she naturally began to lay back on the desk while pulling you down with herself.

“I indeed know how you are, and this isn’t you. Tell me, what’s wrong?” you asked with your lips still ghosting hers, arms wrapped around her waist.

Chameleon heaved in front of you, breathless from the passionate kiss. She smirked as she always does then pulled your body closer with her legs by wrapping them around your waist.

“What makes you say I’m different than usual, Chief?~”

“If you were the same then I’d be undressed by now.”

Her eyes glinted and lips curled up further. You made space on the desk by pushing the files and documents around her out of the way when she suddenly locked her legs around you and made you pin her on top of the desk. You gazed into her eyes and suddenly felt a strange connection with her and heard some words in your mind.

“Take me, Chief.... Just fuck me already....~”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing in your mind. It was clearly Chameleon’s voice yet her actions betrayed her thoughts, you couldn’t even tell if she truly spoke in your mind or the shackles somehow conveyed her hidden desires to you. Nevertheless, you finally understood why she was acting strangely. It surprised you that she had side a like this, the self-proclaimed psychopath who loved toying with you was asking you to take the reins for once. You let out a chuckle which made her confused and she cupped your face then sat up slightly to press her lips to your cheek.

“What’s so hilarious, Chief? Does having me in this position amuse you?~”

“A little.... But, that’s not the case. You know, it’s quite ironic how you cannot be honest about your feelings despite being a psychologist~”

She raised an eyebrow, “Oh? Care to give me some lessons then, Chief? You know how I’m more of a practical learner, don’t you?~”

You smirked, “Well....” you then pushed her down by her shoulders and laid her flat on the desk, “....Your body is indeed far more honest than your words~”

You then leaned down to kiss her neck, planting open-mouthed kisses across her skin while your hands grasped her clothed breasts. Chameleon sighed and removed her spectacles then kept them far away as possible before grabbing onto your head, tightly intertwining her fingers in your hair and pushing your face deeper. You soon pulled down her dress and unhooked her bra to expose her breasts and kneaded them in your palms, pulling and squeezing the soft mounds. Your lips travelled down to the valley of her breasts then attached to her right nipple, wrapping around the nub and swirling your tongue over it.

Your other hand continued playing with her left breast, pinching her erect nipple while you sucked the right one. Chameleon’s body heaved up into you, filling more of your mouth with her breast as you continued sucking them desperately, your teeth lightly grazing the flesh. She sighed more and started grinding her core against you, simply rubbing across any part she could feel- which happened to be your abdomen. You could feel the wetness on her core as she grinded herself and moved your right hand down to caress her underwear, feeling her slick seep through.

“So wet.... you never become this way unless I have cum twice already. What’s got you so needy today, Chameleon?~”

It was a half rhetoric and half serious question; you were amused at her state but at the same time genuinely wondering why she was being this way.

“Oh, aren’t you glad to see me this way, Chief? You always complain about me going first and draining you out. I thought I should let you have the chance first for once~”

You didn’t know how truthful this was, but something told you this wasn’t the real reason. Still, you decided to not pursue the question further and instead make the most of the opportunity.

You rubbed your fingers across her clothed folds, moving her slick along and coating it all over while still sucking her breast. Her legs wrapped around you more and held you tightly, her hips grinding again to rub across you. You were about to slip your hand past her underwear when she suddenly pulled your face up and passionately kissed you then bit your lower lip.

“Why don’t you start with ‘that’ already if I’m so wet as you say, dear Chief?~”

You looked at her with a puzzled expression as you didn’t understand right away what she meant, she simply smirked and lowered her gaze towards your crotch. You followed her eyes and looked at the way your legs were intertwined with hers, cores grazing over the clothes and how her hips were leisurely rutting back n forth. You then quickly pieced together what she meant and felt flustered at her directness but agreed and proceeded to fetch the toy from the lowermost drawer of the desk.

Chameleon stood up from the table and waited patiently, watching you look through the things until finally taking out the toy and fastening it around yourself. Just when you finished buckling it, she turned over and leaned forward slightly on the table. You blushed looking at her tempting form, back arched and hips on display inviting you to do whatever you wanted. Chameleon looked at you over her shoulder with a smirk, eyeing you to begin.

Remembering her words in your mind, you went forward with confidence and gently grasped her hips. You kneaded the bouncy flesh and dragged your hands up then suddenly applied some force and pushed her down further, arching her back more and pressing her face to the desk. She let out a breathy moan followed by a chuckle at your action, grinding her hips over the toy now.

Sounds of clothes ruffling was heard next as you flipped up her dress followed by bringing down her leggings and panties together. A string of slick stuck to her panties as you pulled them down, subconsciously fuelling your desire to make her see stars.

“Doesn’t seem like lube is needed.... but is it really okay?” you debated in your mind while pulling apart her folds with your fingers and aiming the length towards them.

“Just do it, Chief.... take me....~” the same voice spoke in your head again and you looked over at Chameleon who was still lying on the desk the same manner, face tilted down.

Without wasting anymore time, you proceeded to drag the head of the toy over her drenched folds. Her hands clenched the edges of the table as the cock slowly made its way inside her, followed by a startled moan leaving her lips as you suddenly pushed it all the way inside. Your hips snapped forward at precise angles and a controlled pace, her body arching with a pleasured sigh every time you came in. Her mushy walls accommodated you quickly, already used to the toy due to prolonged use. Indeed, you had done her this way before, but the experience this time was significantly different.

Your hands grabbed her waist while you spread apart her legs further and stepped closer, pushing the cock even deeper and burying it to the hilt. Chameleon let out breathy moans as your hips pounded into her, sounds of skin slapping accompanying her voice. You could feel her walls tightening around the cock with how hard it became to move, making you thrust faster with more vigour. The sight of her lying on the table this way was arousing beyond belief, and you couldn’t help but lean down on her back and embrace her.

“You look beautiful.... aah... tell me what you want...” you whispered near her ear, resting your face on her shoulder and continuing to drive your hips in and out.

Chameleon’s eyes hooded at the unexpected affectionate action and she struggled to form a reply. You pushed aside her luscious hair and planted kisses on her exposed shoulder before panting near from the constant movement of your hips. Still, you were determined to satisfy her and kept going, maintaining the speed while grinding the cock inside to hit all of her sensitive spots. Her arms fumbled around as she struggled to grab something other than the edge; watching her flail this way was strangely adorable.

You smiled to yourself and brought your right arm forward to hold hers and laced your fingers from the top then pressed it down with a gentle force. Chameleon bit her lower lip to conceal her voice, her eyes fixated on the sight of your hand holding hers so intimately. Her true reason to come there and disturb you was petty; all she wanted was some relief. She simply wanted you to indulge her a little with her teasing, but what she got right now was more than enough, and unexpected.

“M-More.... Chief.... harder~”

Her voice spoke in your mind once again, seemingly mouthing her desires. You wanted her to say it out loud since you loved hearing her sweet voice, but perhaps you’d have to work a little harder for that. You paused for a moment to lean up, planting your hands flat on the table beside her to stabilize yourself. A loud and throaty whine was pushed from her lips the moment you thrusted inside again, hitting her deepest spots with just the right force. You then set a harsher pace than before, snapping your hips harder and faster just the way she wanted.

The table creaked from your pace, her ass jiggling every time your pelvis slapped against it and her body writhed beneath you. Her slick flowed down her thighs like a leaking tap which only made it easier for you to move. The cock produced squelching sounds as it drilled into her and drew out her essence, edging her closer to release. You gazed at her lying motionless underneath, completely giving her body to you and you made sure she wouldn’t regret that.

“Haah.... Chameleon.... this is what you wanted, didn’t you....?~”

This time, you spoke in her mind as well. Her eyes suddenly widened at the unexpected intrusion in her mind, but she simply smiled and started pushing back her hips into you.

“Y-You know it, Chief... aaahn... don’t hold back.... mmh- just fuck me~”

You buried your face in her shoulder as you pounded faster, knowing she was close to release. Her eyes rolled to the back as you hit a new spot, making her moan out loud unexpectedly. Oh, how delightful the sound was. You could get lost just listening to her voice.

“Faster, Chief.... I’m close.... yes.... that’s it....! More... give me more!~”

She chanted in your mind as if in a lovestruck daze. You stood back up completely and swiftly grabbed her right thigh to hold it up slightly, pressing your pelvis to her completely and pounding deep inside. She whimpered as you hammered at her sensitive spots then finally released with a strained moan, biting her lip and pressing her face to the table. You stayed in place as she came, keeping the toy buried inside and drawing out her release before gently pulling out, watching her essence pool around the length and down her thighs.

Chameleon panted out satisfactorily and was about to say something when you grabbed her legs and suddenly flipped her over, making her lie on her back as you wrapped her legs around your waist and rubbed the cock over her slit. She exclaimed in surprise at the change of position, not expecting you to do such a bold action right away. Yet, she didn’t counter in any form and locked her legs tighter, needily waiting for you to come back inside. The cock slipped back easily and the pleasured feeling of being stuffed returned, her body arching with a moan.

You then set a constant fast pace again, snapping your hips forward and drilling into her heat. She practically bounced off the table now, simply laying back and enjoying the sensations. You stepped closer and pushed deeper, pinning your hands on either side of her head and pounding away. She gazed into your eyes this way, communicating an unspeakable need which she was glad you understood. She then dragged her hands over your body and started unbuttoning your shirt, quickly removing it followed by attempting to take off your pullover too but you stopped her.

Chameleon was about to sit up when your comms device vibrated in your ear, making you halt your movements and deprive her. You looked at the clock then at your tablet to see the caller and realized it was already time for your next meeting, followed by remembering you had yet to complete lot of the paperwork as well, some of which was required for this meeting.

“S-Sorry, give me a minute, Chameleon....”

You said through gritted teeth and pulled out of her before answering the call. You took a few steps back to catch your breath and started conversing in a formal manner, saying unnecessary pleasantries and talking of business. Chameleon had no interest in the conversation; she once again felt envious that you weren’t paying attention to her, despite the fact that you literally gave up on your work halfway to please her....

She waited and waited as you talked more, even bringing out a notepad and writing down some points. Although, watching you talk professionally while wearing a strap and clothes half removed was amusing in itself. Her patience was over soon after and she decided to take action. She stepped down and walked towards you and grabbed the toy length. You became confused at her action and tried to tell her to wait more, but she was having none of it.

She wrapped her arms around your neck and dragged one leg over your waist then slipped the cock inside herself. Your arms automatically rushed to hold her when you felt her weight on the toy, a smirk adorning her lips knowing she had your attention again. You mouthed her to not go further but she ignored all your silent pleas and started grinding back n forth on the cock while clenching onto you. Her lips ghosted yours and low sighs left her mouth which you desperately tried to mask away from the comm device.

“Chief? Is everything alright?” the caller questioned.

“Y-Yes, sorry for interrupting. Please continue....!” you said in a panicked voice.

Chameleon smirked further watching you struggle, moving her hips faster now. You gritted your teeth again then held her tighter and swiftly moved back to pin her on the table again, locking her legs around you like before and thrusting deep inside. You feared she’d moan out loud from the action but she concealed her voice by biting down on your shoulder, simply letting out a muffled groan. Her hands clenched your back more, nails digging in the fabric to grab your shirt as her hips rutted on the toy.

“Ngh.... y-yes I understand.... n-noted....” you answered the call as professionally as possible.

Chameleon simply smirked at the situation, feeling victorious at having you this way. She knew you wouldn’t just throw away your dignity and spoil the meeting by fucking her senseless right now, but she could certainly have her fun toying with you. She slyly let out sighs of pleasure near your ear as she moved, ensuring to not be too loud but also stimulate you enough. You shivered every time her breath brushed past your ear, letting her do as she pleased. Sometime later, you felt her pace slow down and realized she may have gotten tired of moving- which got proved soon after.

“Why did you stop, Chief? I believe you are capable enough to handle both things right now~” her voice came in your mind and provoked you.

You eyed her with a frown, feeling helpless and annoyed at her actions but eager to fuck her at the same time. Pushing her thighs apart more, you slotted yourself closer and made a harsh thrust deep inside her. She arched with a throaty moan and tilted back, hands still gripping around your neck.

“What was that, Chief? Is someone with you?” the caller questioned hearing her voice.

“N-No, I’m just in the activity area and some Sinners are playing around....!”

Chameleon chuckled at your excuse, making you smile back as well. You held yourself against the table and started doing slow and deep thrusts into her. The pace was much slower than before, but you ensured to drag the length out and graze her walls then push inside with a hard thrust, hitting her sensitive spots. She bit down on your shoulder again and let out muffled cries every time your hips snapped forward, relishing the slow and hard sensation. The pace continued for a while until you started pounding away like a wild animal, her body falling back on the table.

“You are unbelievable, Chameleon.... f-fuck.... would you have taken responsibility if we got caught?~”

Chameleon chuckled and dragged her hands down your chest, “If you want me to....mmh... I could easily make them forget they ever heard anything~”

You sighed in defeat, knowing well this was exactly how she was. She then pulled you down and pressed her lips to yours as you kept thrusting, moaning into your mouth. You snapped your hips a few more times and finally made her release, her head throwing back with a loud moan as she clenched around the cock. You panted in each other’s embrace, her hands gently caressing your head in satisfaction.

“So, are you going to admit you just wanted to be fucked?~” you teased, earning a smirk from her.

“Hmm, whatever are you talking about, Chief? Wasn’t it you who pulled me in because you wanted to de-stress?~”

You sighed and didn’t argue further, knowing she wouldn’t admit so easily. You pulled out the toy and cleaned up things while she dressed herself and proceeded to leave.

“From next time, just say your real feelings, Chameleon. I won’t ever ignore you, but give me time to respond.” Your voice spoke in her mind as she walked out.

She stopped for a moment at the unexpected words then smiled to herself and glanced back, only to see you working as if nothing happened.

“I will keep that in mind, my dear Chief~”

[jacquitries]

Through the Threads of Fate | H.P.

You've always kept your ability to read the future a secret, but when Harry Potter starts suspecting you're involved with the dark side, everything becomes dangerous. His growing mistrust of you only fuels the tension, and as your hidden talent remains shrouded in mystery, you find yourself caught between protecting your secret and surviving the storm brewing around you.

𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘

The dungeons were your sanctuary. Cloaked in Slytherin green and silver, you moved through Hogwarts like a shadow—silent, unseen, always just one step ahead. The weight of knowledge settled on your shoulders, a burden and a gift intertwined. You saw the threads of fate twist and pull, shaping lives without mercy. But you knew better than to interfere too boldly. No one could ever understand what you saw. Least of all Harry Potter.

From the moment your eyes met his, there was an unspoken war—a silent reckoning. His emerald gaze flickered with suspicion, always following you, never trusting, as though you were the embodiment of the mysteries he couldn’t untangle. And yet, your path seemed to cross his at every turn. Every twist of fate, every dark secret, always brought you into his orbit. A slow-burning tension hung in the air, a game of cat and mouse. You, the elusive enigma. He, the determined hero.

The castle had its secrets, and it whispered them to you. The ancient stones hummed with echoes of both the past and the future. You listened, weaving yourself into the delicate strands of time. You saw the shadows of the Forbidden Forest, felt the cold wind atop the Astronomy Tower, and watched the Black Lake shimmer with memories only you could comprehend. You didn’t want this power. It was a curse more than a gift, revealing fractured glimpses of what was to come, yet leaving you powerless to change it.

Every warning, every quiet intervention, every seemingly innocent suggestion was a part of a greater plan. But none of them could prepare you for the choices you’d soon have to make.

𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘

You’d always known about the Philosopher’s Stone, long before Harry stumbled across the truth. When the troll rampaged through the dungeons, you stood calm, your voice steady as you guided a pair of terrified first-years to safety. When the whispers of Nicholas Flamel reached you, you carefully placed books open on the library tables, knowing Hermione would find them. And when the final confrontation loomed, you were far away, ensuring the corridors were clear for Harry, unknowingly steering him toward his destiny.

But it was the Chamber of Secrets that truly tested you. The mystery unfolded around you in subtle pieces, fear creeping through the walls like an invisible fog. You never spoke of what you’d heard or seen, not even when Mrs. Norris lay petrified in the hall. The whispers came to you, but you stayed silent, only nudging others in the right direction. When Ginny was taken, you held your breath, knowing Harry would be the one to find her. But as the events unraveled, Harry began to grow suspicious. He had seen you talking to Ginny not long before she disappeared, and his mind began to connect the dots. Though you kept your role hidden, a part of you braced for the moment he would confront you. You had done your part, quietly ensuring the balance tipped in the right direction, but now you would have to face the consequences of your actions—especially when Harry, driven by his suspicions, began watching you more closely.

𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘

Harry couldn’t escape you, no matter how hard he tried. You appeared everywhere—always just beyond his reach. In the library, your eyes lost in ancient tomes. In the corridors, slipping away just as chaos erupted. By the Great Hall, your gaze lingering on the enchanted ceiling, as if you could see beyond the stars themselves.

It infuriated him.

"She knows something," Harry muttered one evening, pacing in the Gryffindor common room, frustration evident in his voice. "She’s always there, slipping away before I can ask anything. There’s more to her, I’m sure of it."

"Maybe she’s just… clever?" Ron offered, though even he wasn’t convinced.

Harry’s gaze darkened. "No. There’s something else, something she’s hiding."

𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘

Your path and Harry’s truly collided during the Triwizard Tournament. You had seen it all—the chaos, the danger, the unexpected twists. You watched from the shadows as Harry’s name was drawn from the Goblet of Fire, his shock palpable in the air. You remained distant, a constant, enigmatic presence, your calm unshaken as he faced the dragons, the maze, and the deadly trials.

It was the dragons that first set everything in motion. You whispered to Neville about gillyweed—just a casual remark, but one that changed everything. And when Cedric Diggory died, when the tournament turned from a test of courage into a nightmare, your heart twisted. You had seen it all—had tried in your own way to adjust the timeline, to alter fate just enough to give Harry a fighting chance. But the outcome was inevitable. Fate, in its cruel simplicity, would not be swayed.

𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘

The darkness deepened in your seventh year, and the weight of fate pressed against your chest like a looming storm. When Harry, Ron, and Hermione were captured and taken to Malfoy Manor, you were already there, a silent force, woven into the very fabric of danger. Your presence was like a shadow, unseen but ever-present, watching as the threads of destiny pulled tight around your friends.

Bellatrix’s shrill voice pierced the air, a maddened cackle as she tortured Hermione, her wand poised like a dagger aimed at the heart of your very soul. You stood in the shadows, every muscle tense, your heart a drumbeat in your chest, yet your face was a mask of icy indifference. The visions you had seen, the threads of fate you had tried to piece together, were unfolding in front of you—but this moment, this confrontation, had always been unclear, a haze of pain and suffering that left you uncertain of where to stand.

And then, when the Snatchers dragged Harry before the Malfoys, your eyes met his—briefly, almost imperceptibly. The shock that flooded his expression was unmistakable, his disbelief evident as he saw you standing there, a ghost in the midst of the chaos. But you gave nothing away. Your gaze was sharp, unreadable, a carefully constructed wall that no one could breach. Not even him. You had to keep the illusion intact, no matter how much it tore at you to see him like this.

As the room erupted into chaos, time seemed to stretch, every moment suffocating with tension. You moved like a phantom, a blur in the dark, slipping through the chaos with the precision of someone who had already seen it all. Each step was deliberate, calculated, as if the very air around you bent to your will. Your wand flicked silently, and a whispered incantation loosened the bonds on Harry’s wrists, the ropes falling away like brittle threads. Without hesitation, you sent another silent spell, deflecting a curse meant for Ron, your magic swift and lethal.

You lingered just long enough to ensure their escape, your pulse thundering in your ears as the last of the danger dissolved into the air. The room seemed to hold its breath as you turned on your heel, vanishing into the shadows like smoke. When Harry, Ron, and Hermione dared to glance back, you were already gone—nothing more than a fleeting whisper in the night.

𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘

The final battle came, and with it, the revelation that had been a long time in the making. The skies were suffocating with smoke, the ground shaking as the forces of darkness and the defenders of Hogwarts clashed with a fury that could not be contained. Through it all, you moved like a shadow—graceful, lethal, and precise. The chaos around you was a dance you knew well, every step and strike calculated with a cool precision that only someone who had seen this moment unfold could master.

Harry caught glimpses of you throughout the battle. At first, it was just a fleeting shadow, a figure who seemed too composed for the madness swirling around him. But then, his eyes started to linger longer. The way you moved, the way your magic flowed, it all clicked for him. You weren’t just another face in the fight. You knew this battle—the exact moments when to strike, when to fall back, how to make every move count. His suspicions grew, the pieces falling into place, but a part of him refused to fully accept it. Could he trust you? Could he even trust himself?

Then, it happened. In the thick of the battle, when the world was reduced to chaos, a Death Eater lunged at Harry. He barely had time to react, his own wand raised, but before he could defend himself, you were there. A flash of movement, a wordless spell, and the Death Eater was thrown back, crashing to the ground with a force that rattled the air itself. Harry froze, watching as you didn’t just save him—you fought with a fury and skill that was terrifying in its intensity. The shock flooded him. This was no longer just the girl he'd suspected; this was something else. You weren’t just playing a part in this war. You were at its heart, shaping its outcome.

He barely had time to process. The fight raged on, louder, fiercer, but through it all, his mind kept returning to you. Every spell you cast, every life you saved, seemed to carry a weight he couldn’t ignore. He tried to focus on the battle, to finish what he had started, but it was too late. The doubt had already taken root. What did this mean? What had he gotten wrong?

When Voldemort finally fell, the world seemed to inhale a collective breath, but the Great Hall was left in ruins. The echoes of battle lingered in the air like an aftershock. Harry stumbled through the debris, searching for something, someone—when his eyes found you.

There you stood, amidst the wreckage, the first light of dawn breaking through the shattered windows to cast a pale glow on your face. You were silent, watching the aftermath with an expression that betrayed no joy, no satisfaction. Only the heavy weight of everything that had passed. There was no triumph in your gaze, just a deep, quiet burden that only someone who had seen the future—and fought to change it—could understand.

Harry approached cautiously, the tension of the battle still thick in his voice. “You were never against us,” he said, more to himself than to you, the words spilling from him like the release of a long-held breath. It wasn’t a question; it was a statement—a truth he had been blind to for far too long.

But you didn’t offer him the comfort of an easy answer. You simply met his gaze, your eyes cold but not cruel, a subtle edge of something deeper, something far more complex. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”

Harry flinched, the sharp sting of guilt cutting through him. The weight of all his mistakes pressed down on him, heavier than anything the battle had left behind. He had accused you, doubted you, turned his back on someone who had been fighting for the same cause all along.

“I… I’m sorry,” Harry said, the words thick with emotion, every ounce of regret spilling out. “For everything. For doubting you.”

You didn’t move, your gaze unwavering. You studied him for a long moment, the years of suspicion, of distance, crashing together into the silence between you. “Apologies won’t change the past, Potter,” you said quietly, the words biting with the weight of everything that had been left unspoken. “But they’re a start.”

The air was charged with the unspoken tension of everything unsaid. Harry stepped forward, searching your eyes as though he could finally understand the woman behind the mask. “You saved so many lives. All this time, I thought you were working against us.” His voice cracked, regret lacing every syllable. “I was wrong.”

You didn’t answer with words. There was no need to. His regret was all over his face, written in the lines of guilt that creased his brow. You had always known he’d get there eventually, but it didn’t make the journey any easier. You didn’t expect forgiveness. You never had.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips, a fleeting thing, barely there. “And now?”

Harry’s voice softened, raw with sincerity. “Now I see how wrong I was.” He took another step, his presence steady, unwavering. “You… you’re incredible.”

For a moment, your eyes softened—just a fraction. You tilted your head, acknowledging the truth of his words, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of an easy answer. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

“It’s not flattery,” Harry insisted, his voice steady but full of something deeper. “It’s the truth.”

A silence stretched between you both, thick and heavy with everything that had been left unsaid. But for the first time, you truly saw him—not as the reckless boy who had thrown himself into danger at every turn, but as the man who had borne the weight of a war, who had fought through the impossible, even when it meant facing his own demons.

“Maybe you’re not as hopeless as I thought,” you said softly, your voice carrying a weight neither of you had expected.

Harry smiled—a faint, almost apologetic curve of his lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

But the battle hadn’t ended yet. You both knew that. There was more to be done, more healing to be had. Harry still had much to learn, much to undo. In the days that followed, as the Wizarding World began its slow process of rebuilding, Harry came to you, again and again, seeking your trust. He wanted to know you—not just the seer who had saved him, but the person you had kept hidden for so long. Slowly, carefully, you allowed him in, but it was never easy. You had learned to guard your heart—especially from someone who had been so quick to judge.

One evening, after an unspoken stretch of silence, you both stood at the edge of the Black Lake. The moonlight glinted off the water, casting the world in a soft, otherworldly glow. Harry turned to you, determination clear in his expression. “Let me make it up to you,” he said, his voice heavy with the weight of all the doubts, the accusations, the distance that had passed between you. “For all the times I doubted you, for everything I got wrong.”

You turned to him, the cool night air brushing your face. You didn’t respond right away. The past wasn’t something you could simply forget, but as you looked at him, something in your chest shifted—something neither of you had anticipated.

With a faint nod, you said, “You’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Harry smiled, the sincerity in his eyes breaking through the years of tension and regret. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

For the first time, you believed him. You believed in the possibility of trust, of something more.

And with that, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe—just maybe—you could trust him, too.

𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘

Years later, your name would be etched into the halls of history as one of the greatest seers the Wizarding World had ever known. You became a legend, revered for your foresight and for shaping the very course of events, all while remaining a mystery to those around you. By your side, always, was Harry Potter—your equal, your ally, the man who had finally understood you.

One quiet evening, as you sat together beneath the stars, Harry asked with a teasing smirk, “Still think I’m hopeless?”

You glanced at him, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, your eyes soft with the weight of all that had passed between you. “Always.”

But deep in your heart, you knew—you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Red Line - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Jinx narrates Ekko's life story.

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

tw: death, police brutality, violence, sickness.

Snippet:

To make a short story long:

One night, many moons ago (twenty years to be precise), the Fissures were hit by what is known as Die Pest—not a mass extermination of rodents, but a deadly contagion known as the Ash Plague. It turned thousands of residents into hacking, howling, hole-riddled wraiths who had little choice but to be quarantined at great expense inside the Skylight Commercia's glass dome, under the Council's decree.

All access to the Bridge was restricted: Fissurefolk were barricaded from crossing over to Topside's salubrious climes, where well-heeled, well-met folks went about their business on the immaculately paved streets while a slow poison whittled down their sunless neighbors, leaving nothing behind but bones.

Two of the soon-to-be-damned were a couple with a young boy, barely a year old. They weren't wedded, this being the Fissures and nobody giving a rat's flea-bitten behind; the only ones in town who kept up the tradition were undertakers and tax collectors, both being in the business of last rites, though one was more lucrative than the other (and a damn sight more sanitary).

Point being: the couple were spared the penance but not the plague. Within weeks of its landfall in the Fissures, it spread through the community like wildfire. The woman died first; her man and baby boy both watched her heave her insides out until all she had left were tears and teeth, and not even a mouthful of either by the time she'd kicked the bucket.

It broke the man hard, her passing. She took everything but his breath.

Then the baby came down with the same fever, and threatened to leave him with nothing.

They say that when a person loses their heart, they have a bottomless hole in its stead. One that can be filled by whatever a heart can hold. This man didn't lose his heart; instead what died in him was cowardice, or maybe common sense.

So he fortified himself on zinfandel, swaddled the baby inside a cloth, and decided to do the impossible.

He slipped out of his family's hovel at sundown. Then he crept into the ginnel—that's a backalley, for the uninitiated—just beyond their stoop to check whether there was any blackshirts lurking. No one save for the Night Watch making their rounds, and he had two blocks on those blokes.

The man snatched up some ash, which was scattered across the streets in the remnants of that frosty Fissure evening. He rubbed it into his skin until his dark flesh held the same pallor as the ill.

Then down he went: as quietly as a rat stalking a scrap. He and his late lady-love were Tausendkünstlers. That's the local nickname for a jack-of-all-trades. In more esoteric circles, it has another meaning. The closest translation is "conjurer," but the wordplay is often lost on folks who don't have an ear for language.

Or a taste for magic.

This man and his partner had spent much of their lives defrauding people blind to the truth that, well, there ain't no such thing as magic. Only the odd miracle, and only if you've got enough coinage to make it happen. The rest's a matter of timing. Luck.

And for the truly savvy: trickery.

Which bought us to this fellow slinking through the shadows: dodging street lamps and dripping lines of laundry alike. To get out of quarantine, he'd need to conjure a few miracles.

And use up the rest of his luck.

So this man sprinted through the streets with his squalling babe against his chest, until he hit the jackpot. In a courtyard by the Black Lanes, there stood a vehicle.  It was a rudimentary motorcar, just the wheels and chassis really. The man had been fixing up the innards before his lady-love got sick.

Still, it was good enough to pass a cursory inspection at the Bridgeside, given the sheer volume of vehicles carting supplies upriver each day.

Our fellow had neither papers, nor permits. Not to mention a suspicious lack of supply boxes loaded into his trunk. He just had his hands on the wheel and something foreign banging around in his ribcage.

Maybe that was bravery? Or, as mentioned, magic?

Maybe it was love?

Whatever you call it, the man was in full grip of this feeling. He gunned the engine, and began a laborious ascent up the roughshod streets toward the Bridge. In the passenger seat, the baby wept in fitful bursts, while the man dabbed at his feverish little face with a cloth which, coincidentally, was all that remained of his lady-love's favourite dress.

That dress tells the story of how they met in three distinct panels:

The first panel: Him and a group of ruffians, headed by two epically hard-headed rascals known as Vander and Silco, taking a joyride in his motorcar—cobbled together from a hijacked Enforcer's paddywagon—when they knocked a woman off the sidewalk and ass-backwards into the muck.

They rush out in a panic—him the first to reach her—to find a charming pair of stockinged legs sticking out of a well-stitched woolen skirt, and an even longer seam of swear words flying out of a prettily-plump mouth.

The second panel: A slightly less raucous encounter, and the man apologizing profusely over a pint of ale to this fetching, foul-mouthed lady for his recklessness. Her face is a frigid moue; she's plainly not interested. At least, until they go outside and she sees him fiddling with the motorcar engine. A spark comes alive in her eyes: she's a tinkerer herself. But her passion lies in mechanized textiles—fashionable clothing made from "sensible cloth," a cotton-steel blend that's both stylish and stab-resistant.

She smiles. He chuckles.

Their eyes meet, and on this newfound common ground, a sweeter bargain is struck.

The last panel: they sit, side-by-side, in the musty dimness of Benzo's shop—in the backroom, where the real business is done without a single signature crossing the dotted line—working on a dress. It's got a special pattern of steel-meshed weave.  Stab-resistant, as mentioned prior. Also great at keeping shrapnel shards at bay. Better safe than sorry, especially now that she's running with Vander, Silco and his crazy lot, too.

Running with this man in particular, who wants only the best for her, even if that's not always possible to deliver. His love language isn't words; it's the hard work and honest sweat as he works with her on the dress, stitch after loving stitch, even though it leaves his fingertips sore.

It's worth it to see the way her tongue curls prettily between her teeth as she concentrates on aligning the seams. At the warmth of her arm, a smooth line against his own, and how he imagines the fabric unfurling between them, so he can see their shared future, sewn right in the steel flux: a chance encounter woven into courting danger and courting bliss in equal parts.

When the dress is finished, she throws her arms around him and laughs. His fingers ache, but his heart's fit to bursting.

Then she kisses him, and he thinks: 

 Boom.

Because a boom's always the best start to a love story.

That dress would take all kinds of hits during their days together—burns, bloodstains, the occasional stray bullet from fleeing the Enforcers storming Vander and Silco's underground rallies. Not the ideal lifestyle—nor a choice the man would've made.

But choice was slim pickings in the Undercity. And the past months had brought a lot less carousing, a lot more casing. Not too proud of it, but what else were they to do? There was no money in gadgetry. Not without a rich patron. The only means of true survival was smuggling, safe-cracking, and grand larceny on the wrong side of town.

Not to mention all the legups that came with having Vander and Silco's back, and knowing they had yours. 

The couple needed a legup. They needed someone in their corner.

See, they had a whelp on the way. A babe on a hip, soon enough. That'd keep any man's eye on the horizon.

In the passenger seat, the babe squalled. The man was catapulted back to the moment. Ash streaking his forehead, and his dead love's dress a crumpled heap in his fist.

The motorcar's creaky wheels rolled doggedly up the streets.

The man hoped to cross the Bridge before the curfew bell clanged. Hoped to trade the boy a worse fate for a better—the golden cage over the black pit. His plan—if it can be called that—was such: he'd get pulled over at the checkpoint. The guards would demand documentation. When they shone their lanterns at him, they'd see the grey grime smearing his cheeks. Instantly, they'd recoil, as Topsiders did at anything less than spotless.

In that moment, with them rearing away, he'd scoop the boy into his arms, snugly enfolded in his love's dress, and make a mad dash across the Bridge. 

All he had to do was cross the red line at the border. Once he did, he'd be under the jurisdiction of Piltover proper, rather than the Wardens. They could gun him down in broad daylight. But the child would be pronounced a ward of the state, which meant they'd place the little thing in an orphanage, where medicks would treat his sickness.

Where he might grow up healthy, happy and bright.

Where he might become someone, like his mother always wished.

The motorcar crept up the crumbling streets, skirting past piles of dead dogs, rats, cats—they'd all perished too. Flies swarmed in clouds over the mangled heaps of fur and flesh.

In the distance, the harbor glowed: a golden hand beckoning.

As the motorcar neared the Bridge's ramparts, the man spotted a squadron of Enforcers posted between two caravels across the road. The line to get past was long and winding. Each carriage took half an hour to inspect.

A long time. Too long!

By the time the man reached the front, the curfew bell would have rung.

Gods, all he needed was to cross that red line. To be given leave to enter the promised land. A small mercy, just a tiny scrap. Please. Why couldn't they give him that?

The man's eyes fixed on the checkpoint, jaw clenched so tight he felt his back teeth chip. The line crept forward one laborious inch at a time. Every bump in the road jostled his bones.

Halfway there, the curfew bell started clanging; the Enforcers lined up on the rampart, barring further entrance. All the vehicles waiting to cross were summarily turned away.

The man's stomach dropped to the car's floor, and then dropped through the floor, and straight down into the Pilt.

In the passenger seat, the baby wailed.

In a world of slim choices and shrinking odds, the man knew he had none left.

When you get only one chance in hell, what've you got to lose? Nothing—which is exactly what he had. He might be waylaid before he got halfway across, sure. A broadside could snaffle him at the wheel; his windows could shatter from a rifle stock bashing the glass in; a hail of lead could leave his guts spilled across the cobblestones.

His body, floating in the Pilt in the aftermath, a knife-edge moon in its reflection...

...but, if there was a chance his son might make it Topside?

He risked it.

Bracing a palm across the baby's chest, the man floored the gas pedal, screeching his way through the barricade like a hot blade through butter. He ploughed right through the middle of the blockade. Crates toppled. Enforcers scattered like loose coins. Shouts rang out, then a chorus of gunshots.

In the passenger seat, the baby let out a hiccupping cry.

 We're going to make it, the man thought. Just across the line.

Boom.

An explosion shook the Bridge, knocking the car sideways. Something massive, maybe a gatling gun—had blown out the car's tires. The wheels ruptured, sending the vehicle skidding off the pavement. It plunged, nose-down, into the vertiginous canyon below. Moments later, the gas line ruptured, sending an impressive fireball sky-high over the River.

Sparks rained down. Soot followed.

In the backdraft, the boy's scream rang out—clear, shrill, angry.

Alive.

By some miracle—or maybe old-fashioned Tausendküstler trickery—the man had snatched up the wee lad—snugly enfolded within his mother's dress—into his arms, and leapt from the careening car. They'd hit the cobblestones, rolling and rolling, as the car tipped off the Bridge.

They stopped—a hair shy of the demarcation. Right near the painted line separating the Undercity from Piltover.

The man ran.

One boot missing, his shirtsleeves shredded, his elbows and knees streaked with blood. And still, he held his son to his breast, and ran like hell.

 He kept running, even as the Enforcers greeted him with the traditional Topside salutation. Bullets ricocheting at his heels, ripping up stone, metal, meat, as he sprinted across the Bridge. As shouts rose, and sirens skirled, and a storm of brass buttons and spit-shined badges lunged in hot pursuit.

One bullet winged him across the temple. Blood sprayed.

Teeth gritted, he pushed hard. Twenty-five yards from home plate.

Twenty.

Fifteen.

Ten—!

Boom.

A third bullet went clean through his skull.

The man staggered, with less than half a yard to go. The baby squalling in his arms, his big brown eyes raised skyward to the golden city as the night and his father's life seeped away.

Finally, the man fell, tripping over blood-slick cobblestones.

He dropped to the ground inches from the red line, curling around the child in a final embrace, as the Enforcers advanced in jagged silhouettes, with rifles drawn and torches held high.

Which is where Benzo and Vander, in the vicinity after a supply run, found Ekko squalling in his dead father's arms.

Ekko would never cross the red line. Instead, he'd spend much of his early toddlerhood curled around the fraying dress, its bloodstains gone coppery-dark. The last relic of his parents, two Tausendküstler fools, taken in by the illusion of a golden elsewhere beyond the river, and the lie that is Topside's creed:

Progress.

As he grew up, Ekko's whole life would be spent in pursuit of something better. Something real. Something that he'd build right in the Fissures.

Because if a city could change, on the level, it must change together. Honesty, grit and guts would get you halfway there. But cleverness, greased gears and a fistful of audacity was what'd see you past the threshold.

Ekko was a Tausendküstler, too. But no fool. Even on the nights when his fingers ached, like his old man's once had, as he stitched together the threads for a brighter tomorrow.

 He just didn't know that a blue-haired girl, who'd lost her own family on the Bridge, would be the match to set the spark in motion. Two ends of a lit fuse. Different sides, same story. Same old fight: getting to the Promised Land, however many yesterdays it took.

Even if the Promised Land was their own doorstep.

But that story is still in progress. For now, there's only the boom.

And a pinch of magic called love to make up for the rest.

[wishesofeternity]

“Warwick launched his final bid at kingmaking, this time in alliance with Margaret of Anjou to restore Henry VI. He and Clarence landed in Devon while the King was in Yorkshire. Elizabeth (Woodville)’s initial reaction was to prepare for a siege in the Tower of London where she had already retired in expectation of the imminent birth of another child. But on 1 October news reached the capital that the King was preparing to set sail from Bishop’s Lynn, abandoning his kingdom. With no hope of imminent rescue, Elizabeth moved swiftly into the Sanctuary of Westminster Abbey with her mother and her daughters. She sent Abbot Thomas Millyng to advise the Mayor and Aldermen that she was surrendering the Tower, and consequently Henry VI, into their custody.

- J.L Laynesmith,  “Elizabeth Woodville: The Knight’s Widow” in “Later Plantagenet and Wars of the Roses Consorts” / “The Last Medieval Queens, English Queenship 1445-1503″

"Elizabeth (Woodville) at first fortified the Tower of London against the approaching Lancastrians, but then decided instead to hand over custody of the Tower to the mayor and aldermen of London while she went into sanctuary at Westminster Abbey. It was a move which not only protected her daughters, who were with her, but also saved London from attack, which perhaps explains some of the praise she later received. The author of 'The Historic of the Arrival of Edward IV, who claimed to have witnessed much of what he recorded, stressed

the right great trowble, sorow, and hevines, whiche [the queen] sustayned with all manar pacience that belonged to eny creature, and as constantly as hathe bene sene at any tyme any of so highe estate to endure; in the whiche season natheles she had browght into this worldc, to the Kyngs grcatystc joy, a fayrc son.

...When Edward (IV) arrived, there was a scene of family bliss, in which the queen's vulnerability and domesticity could be contrasted with his heroism.  The king was thus presented in an unusually human guise, which might appeal to readers familiar with such partings themselves throughout the civil wars:

The king comfortid the quene, and other ladyes ckc;  His swete babis ful tendurly he did kys;  The yonge prynce he behelde, and in his armys did bere. Thus his bale turnyd hym to blis.

[celesterayel]

something out of my dreams | luke castellan

pairing : luke castellan x dionysus!reader

request: could you possibly write a luke x daughter of dionysus please? maybe she’s like super nice and when percy gets to camp she becomes like an older sister and luke is super whipped for her? @elz-zalarrr

IN WHICH — all he knows is that you were something out of his dreams.

"trust him like a brother, yeah, you know i did one thing right. starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night" - t.s.

w.c. 1.8k

warning(s) : cheesiness ゜✭・.

✩ ‧₊˚ author's note okay i've begun to realize that low-key i feel like i write in cursive if that makes sense? if a feeling could describe it i'd say its like using poetry to write? that's likely not any better lol :)

there was but one person that everyone could agree they adored at camp half blood.

it didn't matter what grudge who had with whom or what ancient rivalries transcended the ideals of reality, everyone loved you. not the typical type of brittle love that crumbled at the slightest of touches, but pure adoration that endured the sands of time.

you with the gentle soul, who healed others with each laugh and smile. when new half-godlings were brought to camp, you made sure to comfort them and make them understand that they belonged here and would find a home whether they wanted to or not. you made sure that no birthday was forgotten, no deed undone.

children of minor gods or elders, of Ares or Aphrodite, you became an older sister to all who needed you. you, the daughter of fertility and chaos, the god dionysius.

there was no debate that at camp half blood there was only a before you and an after you. you were like that high right before the free fall–invincibility and smoke and curiosity wrapped into the form of a demi-god. you were the gentle breeze during summer nights when the heat became too much. and none ached more to feel it than luke castellan, who had been burning for as long as he knew.

your relationship in itself was tentative, you danced around your feelings–scared one wrong touch or word would break the shaky, fine line that lay between you two. but you could not hide the way you loved the other to yourselves nor the children of the beings of divine blood. 

luke castellan loved you like the stars would fall out of the sky with one harsh touch, free and incandescently self-destructive. like you were a wild, wonderful thing out of a fantasy.

you loved him like there was no hell or heaven but the cosmos that lay in his eyes and the worlds that lay in his soul. something so sacred and rare. a love so true and mortal it put all the greek tragedies to shame. 

you knew that whatever you and him were made of, in every lifetime or the next you two were made for each other. 

loving luke castellan would be both your redemption and destruction in the making, your elysium for whatever good thing you had done in your previous life. 

✩ ‧₊˚

you first met percy jackson when he came to camp, he was a scared little thing who had just lost his mother when the veil between reality and deception flickered. everything he’d known came crumbling as quickly as the truth was uncovered: gods and monsters were real and played games of hell and heaven on earth. some thing about him called out to the vulnerability you once knew when you first came to camp so you made it your mission to be the sister he never had. 

you met him at the front of the steps of the main office, “my name is y/n, percy jackson. welcome to camp halfblood.”

“do you just somehow know everyones name,” he raised his eyebrows at you. 

“yes.” no, but you supposed it’d be fun to let him think that. 

“of course you do.”

“come along, i’ll show the ins and outs here. if you're nice enough, i might let you in on the cook's secret stash of blue ice cream,” you laughed out.

he contemplated his choices before grabbing your outstretched hand and shaking it, “deal.”

you showed him who to avoid and the best people to befriend. the history between your kind and why the gods were as they were. the truth behind his bloodline and the legacy that he was now responsible for. the tribulations and the pain that was cursed to follow the children of the gods. 

“and this is chris. the best person to ask if you need to know what plants are poisonous,” you say, introducing him to a guy with black hair and soft eyes. 

percy looks at chris before looking around to see where the hermes boy is, “we’ve met. he was with luke when he was showing me around”

you’re cheeks heated at the mention of his name; looking around to see if you can spot the familiar tan skin and soft eyes that belong to your luke. 

“oh! luke! yeah, he’s around here somewhere. he’s sly like that, wandering and then popping up the next second.”

a voice pipes up behind you suddenly, “y/n, already telling percy everything about me?” 

you whirl around and there he stands in all his glory with the curls you love and the sun in his eyes. your golden boy.

“just telling him the truth, castellan. you’re hard to get a hold of sometimes.”

a hue of pink covers his cheeks, “i’m never far from you.”

both of you oblivious to percy and chris who seem to be conversing about you both and the tip-toe dance you play. 

percy just wonders what’s happening here: firstly, luke is looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and the stars and that’s saying something because he has shit observation skills–his analysis essays can attest to that. secondly, he swears he can see hearts in his eyes from where he’s standing and is that…is that a blush?

he turns to chris, who is just staring at the two like it's not out of the normal for what’s happening, “what’s happening here? is he blushing?”

chris just nods, “yeah. luke’s kinda–very obviously to everyone–in love with y/n. if i didn’t know better i’d say she’s gotten him insane in love. very likely as her dad’s the god of insanity.”

he turns back to the two who are laughing and standing closer than before, “like super, super in love. if there was a word for love, luke’s found it”

“huh.” 

chris says it like it’s common knowledge like how the best food is blue jelly beans, “i mean i ship it, y/n’s the sweetest person around here–the type of person people write songs about. she’s like a sister to us older ones and a mother to the younger ones. the whole camp is waiting for him to just man up and ask y/n. they make each other happy, you know?”

“yeah, i think i do.” 

percy thinks it’s something the poets would write about.

✩ ‧₊˚

fridays are capture the flag days.

you’re not the type of person to engage in these types of games all that often but you suppose there’s a first time for everything. someone’s got to show the percy boy how it’s played. 

“okay, percy. remember, keep your senses open and make sure that no one gets close enough to engage. once they engage, it’s hard to fight them off.”

all around you two, people have begun to don their armor and raise arms. the sun has just reached its height and you’re huddled together discussing your gameplan. even though your cabin house is pretty small, you’ve joined athena and hermes for this game. 

percy’s voice rises a little high as he tries swinging his sword around only to drop it, “yeah, okay. i’ll just try not to die, i guess. that’s not like hard or anything.”

“just follow my lead and if i’m not here find luke.”

you're not exactly excited about percy’s odds. the kid is lanky as is and his sassiness doesn’t help him out much when others target him for it. 

that’s exactly why you’re gone to his rescue when he nearly gets hit in the face by a spear after he insulted one of the boys from house ares. 

your heel nearly buckles under a sharp hit after you block the attack that’s directed to percy. you manage to reset your heel and push the sword off before you drop down into a crouch and sweep the legs of the warrior in front of you.

unfortunately you're slightly too focused on what’s in front of you and protecting percy you don’t realize that someones charging toward you from the side. 

fortunately, a block from a familiar sword stops any attack that might meet you head on. no sooner do you hear the block that luke’s got the other guy on the floor and surrendering. 

you grin at him, “i had that handled.”

giving you that grin that makes you feel like your future's right in front of you, he replies: “i’m sure you did. but why let you deal with him when i can save you the trouble.” 

“why don’t you go and help annabeth win the games, romeo.”

he gives you a wink, throwing a quick ‘yes ma’am’ before he’s already running off again. 

no sooner than later, a quick gong resounds throughout the camp, concluding the games. you’re standing slightly battered while percy walks behind you pointing out all the flowers he’s found. you definitely need to teach him how to defend himself. 

the players are just trickling in for the woods they’ve been fighting in to reband together and in the distance you see a figure running toward you. 

holding onto the flag, he continues to look at you like you’re everything he’s ever needed to breathe. he’s taken his helmet off and you can finally see him fully: brown eyes and all dimples.

“see you’ve found the flag.”

he takes a couple of steps closer to you until only two steps separate him and you, “yeah, someone told me to go win the game so I did just that for her”.

“really now?”

he whispers, “yeah.” 

his eyes twinkle and you’ve never wanted anything more than to continue to stare at them. 

you hope he’ll make the next move but luke castellan, the boy you’ve fallen for in every lifetime, is always content to admire you.

so, you take those two next steps, grab him by his neck, and press your lips to his. 

he stands shocked for a minute, wondering if what’s happening is really happening. but no sooner, he’s dropped the flag on the grass and holds you like your the greatest treasure he’s ever had.

there’s a certain type of tragedy that your golden boy tastes like, fire and freedom all in this moment. it’s the price of redemption and damnation that you’re willing to pay. 

to him, it’s the stars aligning like you’d will them to–the power you held and every thing he’s ever needed. your his past, future, and present: the threads in his life giving him the one thing he’s ever wanted. something he’s only ever dreamed of. 

he pulls back slightly before murmuring, “in every lifetime or the next, i am yours. i don’t know what i did to deserve you. you’re something only out of my dreams, y/n.”

"you sap"

you just kiss him again, ignoring all the campers and those still trickling in. 

✩ ‧₊˚

“definitely a child of dionysius. she’s reduced him to insanity,” pipes up percy as he tears off the petals of the flower he holds in his hand. 

chris just grabs a flower and continues to rip the petals off like the boy beside him. 

“damn straight!” shouts luke toward the two.

[reyalvr]

SHE’S MINE | 02

-SO I HOPE AND PRAY YOU MAKE IT WORTH IT.

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan

word count ┊ 3.2k

author’s note ┊ YAPPEE! part two officially out- so sorry for the wait EUEUEU… hehe hope the things that happen in this chapter make up for it being a few days late :p also, i will not be accepting anymore tag list requests! this is due to the amount of users that i can tag per post T^T … nonetheless, i hope you guys enjoy the chap! happy reading :D 

p.s. i will be blocking the people who message me (rudely) to “hurry up” with the next chapters. i understand most, if not, all of you are excited to read the next chapters, but please do understand that i have my own schedule too :,)

prev. | next

YOU HELD YOUR HEAD IN YOUR HANDS, GROANING INTO YOUR PALMS. In front of you sat the thorn at your side, Ken Sato. He had just finished reading- or rather, skimming through the files you had stayed up compiling. You peeked at him through your fingers before standing up to erase yet another column of pros and cons from the board. 

Taking a swig from the energy drink he had brought you, you shake your head as you try to figure out what to do next. Truth be told, you were just eager to leave. You had two weeks left until you could finally let these burdensome tasks go, all you wanted was for Ken to go along with your last few instructions so as to make your exit easier. 

“I don’t get what’s so hard about this, Ken.” You say, turning back around to face him. “You pick a girl, you ‘date’ her for a bit, and then you ‘split up’ amicably. Simple as that.” 

He tilted his head at you, a sarcastic smile on his lips. “Oh sure, yeah. Let me just go out with a random girl and act like I’m head over heels in love with her.”

“Yes, exactly that.” You reply with the same tone, going back to your seat. “Now you’re getting it!”

He rolls his eyes, placing the stapled papers back on your desk. “I get it, I fucked up. But I still don’t get why you’re so…” He pauses, pressing his lips into a thin line and gesturing with his hands. “Persistent in actually trying to get me to date someone for the sake of my screw up.”

“And I don’t get why I have to keep reminding you of why I need to do this.” You lean back into your chair while pinching the bridge of your nose. “You were the one who-”

“-’Told the entire world you were in love’, yes I know! You’ve only said that like, what, a hundred times over?” He cuts you off, crossing his arms. “I know what I did. But I also know that I have a choice in this matter, don’t I?”

You go to reply but stop when you register his words. You knew that, obviously, which is why you had multiple plans. You were giving him the chance to choose, were you not? The various notes and drafted project plans were proof of that. They were all laid out right in front of him, what more could he possibly want? You look at him briefly, your eyes scanning his expression before darting back to the things scattered atop your desk. 

“I’m giving you choices.” You say flatly, slowly looking back up at him. 

“No, you’re giving me options and expecting me to choose.” He counters, his hand gesturing towards the papers. “I’m talking about my choice. My plan, suggestion, whatever you want to call it.”

“So what is your plan? Because as far as I’m concerned, you don’t seem to actually have one.” You reply, brows slightly furrowing at his stubbornness. 

“And that’s the point. I don’t need a plan,” He pauses, pointing his finger directly onto one of the outlines and it towards you. “I just need to ride it out.”

You let out a scoff, stunned at how Ken was still treating this so lightly. The corners of your lips tug up a bit, and you end up letting out a soft laugh in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Am I, though?” He leans back, maintaining eye contact with you. “It’s the choice that takes the least effort. And besides, I thought you liked it when I kept things private.”

“Oh, don’t circle this back to me.” You say, pointing a finger at him. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to address your little mishaps?” 

“Yes, I do. Which is why I’m trying to help you.” He says a-matter-of-factly, his eyebrows raising as if to emphasize how much he understands what your job entails. 

“No, you don’t.” You argue back, mimicking his crossed arms.

“Were you always this stubborn?” Ken says, catching you off guard. 

You feel your features scrunch up in confusion and annoyance, narrowed eyes slanting even more as this back-and-forth of yours keeps going. “You’re one to talk.” 

At that he smirks slightly, rolling his eyes as he pokes a tongue into his cheek. The audacity of this man to act annoyed. You think, all the while you continue to glare at him. You close your eyes for the umpteenth time that morning, taking in a deep breath as your nails dig into your palms. Despite wanting to calm yourself down, his words rang in your head like an unwanted mantra.

His choice.

Would it be so bad to give Ken free reign on this? Granted, he was the one who caused it. Why be the one to clean up his mess- again, for that matter? You pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head once more. You could never understand how his mind worked, and you figured you probably never would. You tapped against the desk with your pen, bouncing your leg as you pondered on what to do. 

Your plan? Everything sets sail smoothly, with only the liability being either party slips up. Which, in your defense, you could cover up in the blink of an eye. His plan? No plotline with room for spontaneous detail sharing whenever he pleased. More work for you, more freedom for him. You stopped tapping then, clicking your pen into place. In your moment of contemplation, you had realized then this entire thing was useless. His plan, your plan, all the plans. None of them mattered, not if the end result was going to be the same. 

Goddamnit, you hated Ken Sato. 

You flip one of the stapled pieces of paper over, drawing over the blank side. “The start of your first full season with the Giants is in less than fourteen days. By then we would need to have already released another press release- ideally before your conference.” 

Ken jumps slightly, caught off guard by your sudden return to work mode. He watches as you line up different keywords with boxy arrows, all of which lead up to the ‘end’ of his lie. “What exactly am I looking at?”

You flash him a smile, albeit a fake one, and slide the paper to him. “Your plan.” Leaning back in your chair, you make a show of stretching your arms. “You’re right, we should go with your plan.” 

He laughs then, noting the lingering hints of sarcasm in your tone. “[Y/N], what are you doing?”

“Giving you your choice.” You reply with a small shrug. 

“Yeah, I can see that.” He says, his smile slightly faltering. “But… why?”

“It’s your life, isn’t it?” You tilt your head to the side, your lips pressed into a thin line. 

Now it’s his turn to be confused and annoyed. The way he understood this, you were letting him win. You were waving a white flag, surrendering to his incessant pleading. He scrunched his brows, still trying to process your words. You continued to sit there, waiting eerily patiently for him to respond. 

“And you’re serious about this?” He questions once more, hesitant to believe that you of all people would back down so quickly. 

“Mhm,” You hum, fiddling with your thumbs. “I’m just your assistant. Well, for two more weeks, that is.” 

He felt like he was being played. He blinked at you, mouth slightly agape. The you that was sitting in front of him now was different from the you thirty-six hours ago. Yesterday, you were desperate for him to follow your plans. He recalled your words, ‘If you're actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.’ But now that you’re telling him to do exactly what he wants, he’s nervous. 

Nervous that he finally caused you to hate him for good. 

“If you’re done sitting there like I said something stupid, you can go. Coach wants to see the team, it’d be in your best favor not to be on his bad side two weeks before playoffs.” You say, not even looking at him directly. 

He clears his throat, licking his lips. “Right, well, okay.” He stands up, sliding himself into his jacket before walking towards the door. “See you, then.”

You only hum in response, still not looking at him as you continue fixing all of the papers on your desk. Just before he’s fully out of your office though, you call out to him. 

“Yeah?” He answers immediately, peeking his head through the door. 

“Have fun riding it out.” You say, flashing him a smile. A real one, this time.

A WEEK HAD GONE BY JUST LIKE THAT. Surprisingly, Ken had been able to keep things under control. Even his comments to street paparazzis were concise, almost as if you were the one who coached him his lines. While you had expected him to do nothing, just as he suggested, you hadn’t expected him to last this long without an intervention from you. 

You sat by your window as your body sunk into your armchair, your eyes threatening to close. The early blue hues of the morning had started to break through the night sky, the clouds slowly parting to clear the sky. You typed vigorously against the keys of your laptop, eyes following the blinking cursor to prevent yourself from falling asleep right then and there. 

You had been up for hours constructing your updated résumé, keeping all your needed information concise and in one page. Despite having a well-rounded history in regards to jobs, the lingering fear of keeping yourself afloat was an inevitable burden you were scared of accidentally fulfilling. You had family, yes, but relying on them did something to your pride. Most especially since you had been low-contact ever since you abruptly moved to the city. 

Seeking help from friends was another option that was off the table. In all your years of working in the entertainment industry, the amount of people you had let into your life dwindled as you realized people’s true intentions. You had merely three people left in your life, and that was by far more than enough to keep you sane throughout the rest of your life.

You sighed heavily, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. Truth be told, despite the factor of having to deal with Ken, this job has been the best in terms of your benefits. He was much like you- little circle, low-contact. Even his own team was a limited number, leaving you to deal with other jobs and tasks that would otherwise be done by different people. Yes, the workload was tiring, but the pay was enough to keep you alive ten times over. You could only say a silent prayer to whoever was listening to bless you once more once you let go of this for good. 

You sat back, finally satisfied with the way your page was laid out. You faced towards your window, closing your eyes as your breathing steadied. The birds were starting to chirp, the sun casting a foggy glow through the clouds. In this moment of solitude, you allowed yourself to relax; it was more than deserved. Not like anything could happen in your sleep, right?

WRONG, SO VERY WRONG. You groaned as you were awakened by the continuous buzzing of your phone. At first you had thought it was an alarm you had accidentally forgotten to shut off, but when it continued on, you eventually had to force yourself to wake up.

The sun was high up now, bright rays peeking through your blinds. You squinted, uncurling yourself from your chair as you got up and stretched. You yawned, scratching your head as you finally unlocked your phone. You were greeted with an endless stream of notifications, your mail app and other social media platforms pinging by the second. There was also the factor of the loud noise outside, though you made it out to be some kind of commotion or parade. 

Your screen then flashed the caller ID of an unknown number, followed by another sea of notifications. You blink yourself awake, now slightly worried at just how much texts and emails you had been receiving. Did Ken do something? Did someone die? Did Ken die?

Before you could even open any of the messages, you hear the familiar ringtone of one of your closest friends. You slide to answer, pressing your phone up to your ear. “Ami? What’s up, what’s wrong?”

She laughed, and you could practically see her shaking her head at you. “I’m guessing you just woke up? Check literally any news outlet right now, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

What the hell was going on? You mumbled something in reply, putting her on speaker as you did what she asked. 

You wished you hadn’t. In bold, bright red letters, the article’s headline read:

Extra Innings in the Press Box: Ken Sato’s Hidden Romance with Assistant Revealed! 

What you saw next nearly had you chucking your phone into the nearest wall. Attached right under the headline was you and Ken. You and Ken. You let out a curse, and you could hear the sighs coming from Ami on the other line. The picture was clearly shot from a hidden vantage point, the branches from the trees blocking the camera proof of it. Despite the distance, though, yours and Ken’s faces were clearly visible. 

“What the fuck!” You yell, now fully awake eyes wide in confusion. “When was this released? H-How did-”

“Two hours ago. Apparently some passerby sold the picture to the press, and said passerby just happened to be paparazzi.” Ami cuts you off, her tone serious yet concerned. “Trust me, if I had known something like this was going to be released, I would’ve done something about it.”

You left your phone on the kitchen counter as you paced back and forth, your hand glued to your forehead as you tried to wrap your mind around what was happening. Obviously it wasn’t true, you of all people knew that. But nobody else did, and that was the problem. 

“Ami what the hell is happening?” You manage to breathe out, still pacing. “This is all so-”

“Much? Yeah, I know.” She cuts you off again, and you can hear the bustling sounds from her office. “My own publisher is on my neck for this, God only knows what you’re going through. Are you okay? If you need help this could technically be classified as invasion of-”

“I do need help because this whole thing isn’t-” You start, but are ultimately cut off again when you hear the sounds grow louder outside. 

“[Y/N]? ‘You there?” Ami’s muffled voice calls out as you walk towards your window, peeking down to where the commotion was coming from. 

“Oh shit.” You gasp out, eyes widening even more as you realize the noises were coming from the sea of reporters and photographers waiting outside your townhouse. 

You swallowed hard, stepping back from the window with a hand to your mouth. This cannot be happening, this had to be some sick nightmare. Stumbling towards your phone, you mumbled some reply about needing to go before abruptly hanging up the call. Rude, perhaps, but Ami would understand. 

In the span of two hours of that damn article being released, eager and greedy gossip outlets had found your address and swarmed your only safe space. You held your phone close to your chest, running up to your room as you tried to catch your breath. You closed your eyes once more, breathing in and out heavily. The more you tried to convince yourself that this wasn’t happening, the more you slowly realized that it actually was. 

You opened your phone once more, muting all your socials and other messaging apps. You needed to think, and you needed to act fast. By memory, your fingers automatically scroll for Ken’s legal team. Having gotten him out of falsified defamations multiple times, acting during these types of situations was almost a second habit. But this didn’t involve just him, it involved you. You were a part of this mess, you couldn’t be the one to solve it.

A mantra of curses conjured up in your head, and you delete the previous number you had dialed in. Think, damnit. Think, think, think. You thought to yourself, nervously chewing on your bottom lip as you prayed for a solution to be presented to you. An alternative popped up into your brain then. Albeit that alternative was stupid, but it was something. 

You dialed his number, anxiously waiting as it rang. 

KEN WAS ON HIS BREAK, SITTING ON THE BENCH AS HE WIPED THE SWEAT OFF HIS FOREHEAD. Playoffs were about to start, and Shimura was working them to the bone to make sure everyone had their head in the game. He let out a deep breath through his nose, arms resting on his knees as tried to calm down after a few laps around the stadium. The rest of his teammates seemed to be reacting obnoxiously over something, though he didn’t have the energy to feign enthusiasm. 

One of his teammates teasingly nudged him then, giving him a playful grin. “Your secret’s out, huh? All this time you were with her.”

Ken laughed it off, still oblivious to the fact that nearly all of Japan now knew the face of his supposed girlfriend. He noted the specification in his tone, as if he were referring to a mutual friend of theirs. Which, again, was impossible- nobody but you knew the secret he was hiding. He gave them a nod before returning back to his own space. 

He felt his watch buzz against his wrist, and he was all but surprised to see you calling him on your day off. He sat up straight then, grabbing his phone to answer the call. He had to admit, he answered a little too excitedly. Or nervously. He couldn’t differentiate the two, not when it involved you. Ever since the start of this stunt, something in him shifts whenever you or anything related to you gets mentioned. He brushed it off as some sort of familiarity attachment, the weight of your sudden resignation still heavy on his shoulders.

Was he sad to let you go? Maybe, he wasn’t entirely sure. Aside from the fact that he had Mina, you did your job well. You knew the ins and outs of everything he liked and disliked, you kept him organized and on track. Sure, losing you would be another hurdle he would have to get over, but that doesn’t mean he would be… impotent without you. He clears his throat before he finally brings the phone up to his ear.

“Hey-” He starts, but stops when he notices the frantic panic in your voice. “Woah, hey slow down. What happened?”

“You happened.” You reply then, albeit through a shaky breath. 

“What?” He questions, brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s exactly as I said. You happened,” You paused, taking in a deep breath. “And now I need your help. Please.”

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp

[my-castles-crumbling]

bug - @rosekillermicrofic - word count: 250

"Are you homophobic?"

The question came from literally nowhere as Barty and Pandora walked up to the castle from their Care of Magical Creatures lesson; the only lesson they had together without the others.

Shocked, Barty turned to Pandora with a furious expression. "What the fuck? No!"

"Evan thinks you are," Pandora shrugged, looking completely comfortable with the decidedly uncomfortable conversation.

Shame and anger seeped through Barty's veins. "Why?" he asked softly, already knowing the answer.

"You won't be around him when he's with Alan. When they're kissing or holding hands, you get mad, Bee. He thinks-" Pandora started, eyes empathetic but beseeching.

"It just bugs me," Barty grumbled, looking down and kicking at a rock. "They're so..."

"Gay?" Pandora supplied, tilting her head to the side.

"No! It's not that!" he fumed, turning away.

"Then, what?"

He was quiet. Because he knew the answer, but to say it out loud made it real.

The honest truth was that it wouldn't matter who Evan was kissing. It mattered that Evan was kissing someone that wasn't him. And he didn't want to admit how mad it made him.

But of course, Pandora was as annoyingly perceptive as usual and quickly interpreted the silence.

"Oh," she gasped, "oh."

"Oh?" he asked grumpily, cringing internally.

"Barty, you should know...Alan wasn't his first choice," Pandora said gently.

It took him about five seconds to realize what she meant. But when he did, he suddenly wanted nothing more than to get back to the castle.

[bakugoushotwife]

a/n: omg heyyy i make my grand return with my humble offering to @ohkento 's reddit theme collab!! i also have a piece for shouto coming up next, but here is the first one!! i took a while off after kinktober so if this is bad....lie to me!

warnings: dark content. nsfw. no minors. yandere theme gojo, no physical harm to reader, baby trapping, threats (not to reader), female reader, breeding, pentration, oral (fem!receiving), reader is kinda dumb lol.

summary: STORYTIME: I (28M) CAN'T STOP BREEDING MY GIRL BEST FRIEND (28F)!! it's a serious problem...i'm really reaching my breaking point here. i've been in love with this chick since high school and she keeps chasing other guys...but fucking me when the dates go wrong, help!

it’s been his dirty little secret since his years at tokyo tech. you’ve always been a looker, never were you short on attention from lesser men that aren’t worth your time—and yes, that includes when geto crushed on you all through the second year of school. but they never were quite what you were looking for, and every night of passion or attempt at a meaningful connection always ended the same—dialing up your closest confidant satoru to come console you and stuff your cunt full and wipe your tears–to make it better, like best friends do. 

satoru was all too aware of your little predicament, because he had struggled with the same issues–except he realized his fate years ago and was determined to have it. you are his and his alone, no matter how many scrubs that try to take you from him. if only you would open your eyes. you were obviously hopelessly in love with him, of course—that’s why no one could compare! and that’s why you always turned your teary eyes and pretty pussy to him after yet another date gone wrong. he knew he was the only cure, and he’s given up on hoping you’d see the truth for yourself. 

he tried to play the patience card, licking your tears off your face as he pounds his love into you, telling you that you’re worth so much more than those guys you keep letting break your heart. he tried being the nice guy that holds you after yet another promising prospect never texts you back–buying you dinner and bouncing you on his cock until you were crying from pleasure instead of heartbreak. each time, he buried his load in your womb until it was spilling out around him—hoping to give you no other choice but to pack your bags and move onto his estate to further the gojo clan with the very man at the head of it, but it seems your ovaries were just as stubborn as you are. he didn’t know how much more of this he could stomach—just waiting to be your knight in shining armor while laying in bed at night, staring at the pictures of you, both lewd and cute alike while wondering just how long it would take to have you laying beside him in his bed instead of the pixels on his phone screen. 

he’s had enough. it’s clear his plan isn’t working as designed. you must be on birth control—which is both irritating yet complimentary to him. of course you wouldn’t let these bums knock you up. is it insulting that this applies to his seed too? of course, but then again the whole dynamic was rather insulting wasn’t it? fucking other men and crying to him about it when they aren’t the perfect man for you. no shit—no man will ever know you like he does. none of them could ever compete with the life he could give you if you would just face the music. he doesn’t get it either. why bother? why look elsewhere? obviously you’re attracted to each other—so why won’t you make the next natural jump and stop it with the drama-packed weekly bachelorette episodes?

that’s okay. it’s really fine. satoru is such a good friend that he’ll help you, like he always does. he would simply help you to the conclusion that he wants and then everything can proceed according to plan! it shouldn’t be too difficult anyway, you’ll be calling any moment now! you had a date with yet another sure disappointment that gojo knows will desert you as soon as the date is finished. he’ll be dry and boring after the promising conversations you had in the days leading up to the date—you’ll be confused yet again—and the guy won’t pay either, set for split-bill city. gojo knows all of this because he’s ensured that’s what happens, of course! and this is the thirty-sixth man he’s had to pay off to show up to the date and forget about you. a price he’s more than willing to pay no matter how high, though it’s definitely added up over the years. and you know what—now that he thinks of it, none of them deserve you because their weak nature and corrupt morals. he’s been proven right every time, each one of these bottom feeders would take the money no questions asked—maybe that was due to his threats of horrific death if they so much as answered a text message from you again, but who could be sure? 

this one was especially easy to pay off, too. he didn’t even think twice about taking the money. it almost makes gojo mad. he clearly wasn’t heartbroken to walk away from you, and god you deserved so much better. you deserve a man that is willing to pay off any and every suitor that comes into your life just to make you his. you deserve a man so crazy about you he can hardly recognize himself. you deserve…well, him. he’s devoted himself to you for over a decade and it’s time for that to pay off.

your unique ringtone gets him out of his own head to answer, and of course, you’re crying and asking him to come over. pretty girls like you never learn, huh? that’s all forgiven though, as he is a teacher and it’s his passion to help you understand. 

“of course sugar. i’ll be right over. mhm–don’t mention it. that’s what friends are for.” he hums to you over his end of the phone, picking up his car keys to make it to you in record time. you’re your same beautiful self as you answer the door and welcome him inside, though he can see the tear tracks staining your face. it makes him pout a little at the sight no matter how used to it he is. he hates that you let these cretins upset you like this. 

“hey baby.” he pouts sympathetically with you, ducking under your arm to gaze around your familiar living room for any signs of a man he hadn’t yet heard about. he exhales a deep sigh when he finds none. he’s got his hands in his pockets, lips tightened in a knowing grimace. “so what was it this time? no—let me guess: split the bill and then he let you walk home in this weather?” 

you close the door after he’s entered with a heavy sigh. your bleary eyes fix on your hand still clasped around the doorknob, “yeah.” you tug your lip between your teeth and turn to face him. you didn’t have to answer him, for he already knew. it was borderline routine at this point and you were already embarrassed enough. you draw your arms around yourself to feel your own warmth, shaking your head. what was wrong with you? you used to be pined after, wanted—and now you couldn’t even get non-sorcerers to call you back. you haven’t had a second date in years, nor had an orgasm that wasn’t satoru’s handiwork. but even he didn’t want you permanently. you were a good friend and an even better fuck, that’s all. you knew it was pointless to yearn for him, sure he felt nothing other than his ever-present sense of duty and loyalty every-time he took your pain away–no matter the lies that poured out of his saccharine lips to do so. your sad eyes fix on his face, letting your plump bottom lip bounce out from your teeth’s trap. he smirks softly, cock rising because it knows exactly what that look means. 

but unfortunately for you, he won’t just hold you in his arms and promise that you’re worth so much more than you let yourself believe. tonight, he’s going to take what’s rightfully his—and his plan is already working beautifully. you never look away as you walk from the door to him, bracing your tiny and ineffectual hands on his chest. “what’s wrong with me, sato?” you pout, batting your long lashes up at him. his heart could stop just from that look alone. the comfort of his large hands covering yours soothes you already, making the tension drop from your shoulders. 

“you’re naive.” he answers, eyes as bright as ever as they glow like fireflies in your living room. if you were going just by the expression on his face, you’d think he said something kind or even funny, the way he grins softly and blinks his white lashes down at you in wait of your reply. you’re sure you misheard—every other time you asked this question he always said, “maybe you’re just too pretty, huh? ever thought of that, sugarplum?” 

“huh?” you tilt your head to one side, watching his expression shift to amusement. “naive? wh-what do you mean by that?” 

“well, if you weren’t so naive, you’d know, now wouldn’t you?” he pokes his tongue between his teeth, tucking his hands behind his back while you still lean helplessly against him. he likes feeling the weight of your body on his, and he’ll like it even more when he knows it’s a permanent thing. “you’re on birth control.” he states, and your confusion sets in even deeper. your brows furrow, but you nod. 

“yeah? what about that makes me naive?” you posit, used to his antics for the most part. you’ve been around him far too long to mistake his bluntness as an attack to you, even if it stings just a touch. though you did ask, and you have used him as your sexual relief and shoulder to cry on for years now. maybe he’s fed up with lying to save your feelings. 

he looks around for a second, humming. “where is it?” 

you also know better than to question him. if he’s asking you these questions it has to be for a reason—and you don’t have to understand him in the moment. just do what you’ve always done and trust him, support him on and off the battlefield–and never hesitate. it could be the difference between life and death. you learned that on missions together years ago. 

“in my nightstand?” you tilt your head to the other side. he has to admit your astonishment is adorable. he smiles down at you, cupping your cheek lightly. his fingers are so long that his thumb rests on the corner of your lips, fingertips brushing back your hair. 

“go get it for me.” he says as if he asked you to pass him the remote. you narrow your eyes to really study him—and then you see it. the teeming rage, the simmering crazy behind his eyes as they look at you. he is the most powerful man in the world, even if you were scared, there was nothing you could do but obey. but you trust him. and you nod. you turn to pad off to your bedroom and the clicks of his expensive boots follow. you’re used to the butterflies tickling your stomach as you lead him to bed, but you know something’s different this time. you feel like you’ll puke butterflies. but nonetheless, you pull the drawer of your nightstand open and fetch the little foil pack out of it, only a few pills missing from this month’s prescription. you turn to face him with it, mind racing on what he could possibly be doing. knowing him, he’s toying with you–trying to make you as nervous as possible and all this worrying is for no good reason. 

he sits at the edge of your bed, seemingly watching you with interest. he’s happy that you’re humoring him, that’s for sure. not even the faintest hint of protest. maybe you’re not as naive as he thought. in fact, your effortless obedience has his the crotch of his loose hakama’s tightening quickly. your heart jumps in your throat at the sight of him as it usually does—satoru gojo is far too beautiful to be in your house, supposedly telling you why you couldn’t keep a man. the black compression shirt was nearly criminal when it was wrapped around his perfect body. 

“good girl. now flush ‘em down the toilet for me.” he beams, blinding white teeth baring to smile at you. it was a simple request, really. he needed you to stop taking that poison and to stop entertaining the idea of other men. 

“why?” you swallow harshly, voicing your underlying suspicion. 

“don’t you trust me, baby?” he replies with a quickness, tilting his head to mirror yours. he’s doing well to keep himself together–you don’t understand his love for you yet, but he’ll take care of that. he’s a teacher, remember? “that stuff’s not good for you.” 

you hum. the side effects have been brutal, but you’re hardly in the spot for a baby. you can’t even get a boyfriend, much less a baby daddy. “yeah…i know. sucks taking it. guess i could get an iud or something instead.” you think aloud, voice becoming distant as you turn your back to him and dump your pills in the bathroom attached to your small room. you really undersell yourself. you could have been his bride eight years or so ago and been living large. but he’s going to fix it now. his jaw clenches at that declaration, and you feel him watching you the entire time—the doorway a straight shot from the spot he sat in on your bed. 

“no.” he says simply, the lightheartedness gone abruptly. it sends a shiver down your spine, makes your brain alert to the changes within him as he stands and cages you into the bathroom, broad arms stretching to block off the doorway. 

no? he doesn’t want you to protect yourself in any way? that seems a little ridiculous, but maybe he had a good reason. “satoru…i can’t get pregnant right now.” 

“why not?” he asks, looking over your little body nearly trembling from the darkness of his cursed energy growing more oppressive, nearly sucking the air out of the room. your heart pounds, more confused than you were at the start. 

“because i’m…single?” you try carefully, not sure exactly what you were dealing with here. satoru has always been so happy-go-lucky, even when he shouldn’t be. you remember begging him to talk out his stress so that he didn’t explode right after suguru left. so this anger you see set in his features shocks you, his bright and clear sky-colored eyes are clouded and murky, more cerulean than you’ve seen before. his brow is set and you can see the muscles twitching in his jaw. but he’s still smiling, and that for whatever reason is still real. 

“there’s that naivety again, princess.” he licks his teeth, shifting his weight from foot to foot. you look like a deer in the headlights, and he’s giddy at the rush that gives him. you’re finally in his grasp. “you’ve never been single. not since hmmm let’s see, march fifteenth, 2006.” he grins at you–”which makes all this dating real offensive, sweetheart.” 

you want to laugh, but decide against it considering his unpredictability. you shake your head instead, backing yourself to the wall. “what on earth are you talking about? we’re friends–”

“friends that fuck!” he laughs a strained snicker, straightening his posture. “and make sweet hot love, of course. friends that cuddle on the couch and have sleepovers. come on. we’re both adults, don’t insult me. you love me! which is great, because i love you too. i love you so much i’ve made sure that no one could steal you from me.” 

your brows must reach your hairline at that. “stop, satoru. don’t say that! you can’t mean it–fuck, you’re supposed to be married to a kamo or zen’in girl so you can keep making powerful gojo’s right? isn’t that what you always said in school?” 

“you’d give me powerful gojo’s.” he smirks, breaking the barrier of the bathroom’s threshold by stepping closer to you, leaning down to be on face level. “i was only trying to make you jealous sugar! just like this whole stunt you’ve been pullin’, dating around to try to find someone that makes you feel like i do? tch, hahahaha—it’s impossible!! just stop it, be mine and be happy like you should be.” he grasps your chin with a surprising gentleness given his unhinged and maniacal laughter, smiling down at you with something you recognize as his power-trip going off the rails—but. 

but you’d be lying if you said you were scared. he’s declaring his love for you in the most profound way possible, however crazy it–and he–may be. and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t absolutely see right through you. he has the six eyes after all, you should have known he knew what you were trying to do. you were trying to numb the pain of never being his…but you were actually manufacturing that whole scenario. you’re the only girl he’s ever seen, and it’s clear from the desperation mixed in with the insanity—he needs you. 

you reach back and flush the toilet, letting the little white pills circle the bowl and disappear entirely. satoru gojo has always been insane. you’ve seen it firsthand on many missions and battles against curses and sorcerers alike. it just surprised you to see him turn that look upon you–but now you know it was just to get your attention. 

though you don’t doubt what he’s capable of, you have no intention of pushing him to find out.

his eyes go from crazy to ravenous in seconds. you’ve accepted his proposal with hardly any effort and he intends to show you the difference between his sweet hookups and his passionate need to claim the woman of his dreams. 

“so you…scared off all those guys?” you ask, raising a brow as your face still rests in his clutches. he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, nodding vigorously. 

“sure did, princess. i was trying to let you figure it out on your own…” he sighs, brushing your hair back behind your ears as his eyes scan over your body again. he needs to feel you. “but you’re not a quick learner, hence why i’m on plan b.” he winks, scooping you over his shoulder moments later. he puts you on your bed, the short walk made shorter by his teleportation. he’s just too impatient, brain swelling with the flashing images of you in traditional wedding attire and round with his heir. it all feels within reach now, and he has to try it out now. “gonna show you how bad i love you–you’ll never go anywhere else.” he mutters, lanky frame swallowing up your body, hips pinning yours to the bed beneath you. “you’re gonna give me a gojo and you’re gonna look so fucking good doing it.” he mutters, lips attaching to your neck reminiscent of the way they have a million times. though this time, there’s intention behind it—or well. this time you’re aware of the intention behind it. 

in all your times together, his dirty talk has been contained to praising your body and how good you feel to him. his incantations to knock you up has your heart beating funny and wetness pooling between your legs. you make a soft gasp sound for him, elongating your neck to let him leave real marks of possession where you’ve previously resisted. your body writhes and twists under his as his teeth knick and nip bruises into your skin. he’d spell his own name with them if he could, even a ring and a baby wasn’t enough in his eyes. he needs the world to know you’re his, that you’ll always be by his side, that you were born to be his. 

“that pesky birth control’s gonna have to wear off though–so we have time to get married before you get pregnant–if that matters to you.” he moans at the idea, hands sliding under your top to push it over your head. his mouth moves to suck the swells of your tits once they’re exposed to him, humming out his satisfaction at the warm skin. your head digs back into the mattress—mind absolutely drunk on his affection and devotion. it’s all you’ve ever wanted and now it’s right here, and from the man you’ve always wished you could have—how could you ever deny him again? 

your hands pull at the fabric on his back, hips bucking up for a source of friction. he breaks away from marking up your chest to bare his to you, throwing his t-shirt into some corner of your room to be forgotten about until tomorrow. this wouldn’t be your room much longer anyway–you’ll be moved into the estate within the next two days, he wouldn’t be able to live without you now. then he’s pushing you up towards the headboard, ripping off your lounge shorts to reveal those cute panties he knows you wear when you’re trying to impress him. color him fucking thrilled at your puffy pussy lips indenting the fabric around them, making him groan at the sight. he thumbs at your clit through the cotton, sparkling eyes flickering between the growing wet spot in your panties and the adorable scrunches of your nose and the pinch of your brow from the pleasure he’s dishing out before he’s even really touching you. you’re so cute he can’t pace himself, needing to consecrate your importance to him in the best way he knows how. 

you help him get you out of your underwear, shamelessly spreading for him after hundreds of rendezvous—you’ve lost your shyness and he loves it, loves seeing your neediness for him in the glaze of your pretty doe eyes and the way you swing your hips around to beg for his attention. “tell me you love me.” he hums, nosing apart your pussy lips. his cock throbs at the scent, and you feel goosebumps break out across your skin at his command. 

“you’re the one for me, sato. i love you.” you whisper so intimately he can feels his cursed energy pulsing like the rest of him. he groans, submerging his face in your cunt with a genuine pleasure you’ve only seen from him. he loves eating you out, loves the taste of you on his tongue—loves how your noises only rile him into fucking the bed, whining and grunting with his own neediness that he could only unleash once he’s properly readied you for it. 

“you taste so fucking good baby…so sweet down my throat. get loud, i don’t care it’s an apartment. you’ll be moving out soon anyway.” he smirks, latching onto your clit to make your legs jolt like they always do. it makes him giggle every time, and the vibrations feel even better against your sensitive bundle. he rolls it around his tongue, letting his index finger explore the wetness he’s helping you create. he pokes into your entrance, knowing how violently you craved something inside. his thoughts are confirmed by the way you clench around the digit, whining and bucking into it for more. he’s more than happy to oblige, finger fucking you with two long and thick fingers while his tongue works overtime on your clit. he loves watching you at this part, enamored by your face as your hips involuntarily jump from the bed, smacking your clit into his nose instead of his skilled tongue. 

your entire body is warm, jerking like you’re receiving electrical shocks from the pleasure satoru reigns down, gasping and sputtering on the edge of orgasm just a few minutes after he started. it’s always like this with him–though this time was special because you knew your life was changing before your very eyes—that satoru’s energy was growing so rapidly because he’s letting go of all kinds of stress and pent up frustration and anger. “please—wanna cum please sato–”

“daddy. i’m daddy now. ask daddy nicely.” he chuckles as he leans his head against his free hand, curling his fingers into the spot he knows so well just to watch your mouth drop and eyes widen in absolute blissful shock. you nod–brain fuzzy from his constant teasing and his new nickname. 

“daddy!! yes—daddy! please, oh my god—daddy let me cum!” you sound so good when you say it–it’s all he ever wants to hear for the rest of his life. he can’t wait for you to make him a real daddy. 

“oh missus gojo can do anything she wants.” he coos as if he didn’t make you expressly beg for permission, lowering his face to your cunt again with precise licks, shoving your hood back to absolutely abuse your sensitivity. your legs develop a mind of their own and you’re spiraling over the edge before you can understand what he’s doing. floating balls of color cover your vision and you scream his name just as loud as he wanted. he grins in satisfaction, hands resting on your knees so he can push himself forward for a sloppy kiss; slick covered lips sliding against yours so you could taste your own essence via his tongue shoving its way in your mouth with a hearty moan. you match his eagerness, making out with satoru with more passion than ever before–because you both have the security of knowing it’s real this time. he maneuvers his hips until his leaky tip catches on your hole, his breath shaky as before he shoves in like he always does. you squeeze him so tight it’s not hard to believe why he lost his fucking mind over this pussy. he truly would do anything to make you his, thank god you didn’t put up a fight. 

“fuuuuck–” he whines a little, finding it nearly impossible to even move in the first place. you feel the burn of his fat and lengthy shaft parting your walls like they routinely do, mouth dropped wide open in pleasure. satoru hovers inches away from your face, so close that the ends of his hair tickle your forehead as he picks your legs up—holding you by the back of the ankles before he sets a brutal pace. his nuts clap into your ass from the way he moves, length curving just right to fill you to the brim. he doesn’t even have to try all that hard to bottom out against your cervix, finding the way you moan and twitch so adorable. “this is why you have to be my wife—i need you for life, sweetheart.” 

your eyes widen at that declaration–though you already realized that satoru would never let you out of his clutches again. you knew he would marry you as quickly as possible based off of his desire to also knock you up as quickly as possible—but hearing him call you that, first missus gojo and now his wife, it all felt so real. his cock slamming into you only drilled it in further, his eyes glowing brighter than you’ve ever seen. the air also grows its own electric field, suffocating and thrilling all at the same time. your eyes are glued to him, entranced by the feral look on his face. you try to hold onto him, but he’s moving so punishingly you can’t even get your hands to work, mind and body on cloud nine. “you’re so beautiful. i’ve been in love…with—you–for years now.” he says in between deep breaths, trying to contain all his focus into drilling you unconscious. 

you shudder, feeling that was completely in the realm of possibility. his balls ache, the need to breed you just as heavy as all the other times you’ve come to him to clean up every mess of yours ever since he’s known you, the need to make you his in a way no one else would be allowed to—it’s carnal. he can’t stop until you’re full of his seed and it takes. he needs to see your breasts heavy with milk to feed his baby from. he needs to see you struggle with the weight of your belly so he can urge you to rest and let him serve you like you should be. he needs to see what the combination of your love looks like; what these last ten years of hard work would become. he’s painting your insides white and still pumping just as fast as before, watching your face tick and jerk with the pleasure you’re experiencing as you tip off of your own peak. he grins, shoving that cum as deep as it will go. he stops when he knows your body can’t take anymore, cuddling you to his chest until you fall asleep safe and sound. he has the whole world in his hands, and that’s never been enough. now he can sleep with a genuine smile on his face. he knows your body will regulate in a few months off the birth control—but that doesn’t mean he can’t get plenty of practice until then. after all, he has a problem! he has to breed his pretty little girl best friend turned future wife. 

[halfmoonaria]

this christmas, without us

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: you and tara are forced to play the roles of a happy couple at the christmas dinner.

word count: 6.8k

author’s note: merry christmas!!

Tara didn't want to be there. Not tonight, not with you.

She'd been dreading it since the day Sam announced the Christmas dinner. The idea of sitting in a room filled with people who thought they knew the two of you, pretending like everything was the same as it had always been, made her stomach churn.

It wasn't the same. It hadn't been the same in weeks—not since she'd looked you in the eyes and told you the words she couldn't take back.

Even now, the memory of your face in that moment was enough to make her chest ache, a sharp reminder of what she'd done. You hadn't cried, hadn't yelled.

You'd just gone quiet, retreating into a silence that had spoken louder than anything you could have said. She'd expected you to pull away completely after that, but you hadn't. You stayed. For her.

Which was exactly why she shouldn't have asked you to come.

But she had.

She'd waited too long to bring it up, hoping—praying, even—that she could find a way to avoid the whole thing altogether. A last-minute excuse. Anything to save you from the act you'd have to put on, the mask of someone still in love when the truth was hanging between you like a storm cloud. But the excuses didn't come, and when Sam asked if she was bringing you, Tara panicked.

"Yes," she'd said, and that was that.

The alternative wasn't any better. Showing up alone would've only raised questions, questions she couldn't answer. Questions Sam wouldn't let go. Tara could already hear her sister's voice in her head, dripping with fake sympathy, every word a jab meant to land right where it hurt.

"Guess she finally realized she isn't good enough for you."

The worst part was that everyone would believe it. Because no one could imagine it was the other way around. No one would believe that Tara was the one who wasn't enough—not for you, not for the kind of love you gave her.

They'd all look at you, with your easy laugh and unwavering kindness, and then at her, the girl who couldn't even hold onto the one person who had ever truly cared.

But Tara wouldn't let them blame you. She couldn't. You had been everything she needed, more than she deserved. That much was true, no matter how much she wished it didn't hurt to admit it.

She thought back to the night she'd asked you, still sitting uncomfortably in her chest. It had been late—late enough for most people to be asleep, but she knew you wouldn't be. You liked the quiet of the night, the way the world slowed down and felt like it belonged only to you.

She hadn't forgotten that, even if she told herself she'd forgotten everything else.

Her fingers had hovered over your name on her phone for what felt like forever, the screen casting a faint glow in the dark of her room.

Calling you was the last thing she wanted to do, but she didn't have a choice. Texting would've been too impersonal, and not asking at all would've meant facing the group alone.

When you'd picked up, your voice had been soft, like you already knew why she was calling but were too kind to make it hard for her.

She'd stammered through her words, trying to keep the conversation going long enough to delay the inevitable. A part of her hoped you'd hang up first, that she wouldn't have to say it. But then, dragging it out only made it weirder. No one called their ex just to chat, not after ending things the way she had.

So she'd asked. It had felt rude even as the words left her mouth—asking you to do this for her, after everything. It wasn't fair.

But you'd said yes.

No hesitation, no bitterness. You didn't even sound mad. If anything, you'd sounded... calm. Maybe even relieved, though Tara didn't understand why. She'd thanked you quietly, trying not to choke on the lump in her throat as she ended the call.

If she'd dreaded the Christmas dinner before, it was nothing compared to now.

Tara sat on the edge of her bed, her room a chaotic mess of discarded outfits strewn across the floor. She'd started with something casual, but it felt too careless. Then something dressier, but that felt like trying too hard. Nothing seemed right.

Was she trying to impress you? The thought made her stomach twist, and she shook her head, trying to push it away. No, it wasn't that. Or maybe it was. Was she trying to look like she was doing fine? Like she wasn't crumbling inside every time you so much as glanced at her?

She caught herself wondering if you were supposed to match. The idea was stupid, ridiculous even—you'd never done that when you were together, so why would it matter now? And yet the thought lingered, a small, nagging question she couldn't ignore.

Tara sighed and stood, rummaging through the closet one last time before her fingers brushed something familiar. She pulled it out, the soft fabric bringing a fresh wave of guilt crashing over her.

It was one of your shirts. Dark green, fitted in a way that hugged her frame a little too tightly. You'd left it behind without a second thought, and she'd never returned it—never even offered to, though you hadn't asked for it back.

She hesitated, holding it up in front of her. It wasn't like she had many other choices; nothing else seemed to work. Maybe you wouldn't notice. Or maybe you would, and you just wouldn't say anything.

Pulling it over her head, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The shirt clung to her, accentuating her small frame. She frowned, brushing invisible creases off the fabric. It felt like a bad idea, but the clock was ticking, and she didn't have time to overthink it anymore.

With one final glance in the mirror, Tara grabbed her coat and headed out.

The drive to your apartment was supposed to be short, but Tara stretched it out, taking detours she didn't need to take. Her hands tightened on the wheel as she tried to calm the nerves twisting in her stomach. It didn't help.

She'd been the one to suggest picking you up. It made sense—if they thought you came together, no one would ask questions. And you'd agreed without hesitation, like you always did. That only made her feel worse.

You'd always been like that in the relationship, too. Agreeable. Too accommodating. Even when Tara didn't deserve it.

When she finally turned onto your street, she spotted you immediately. You were standing near the curb, hands buried deep in your coat pockets as snowflakes dusted your shoulders. Your cheeks were flushed from the cold, and you shifted on your feet, trying to keep warm.

She felt a pang of guilt. Had she taken too long?

As she pulled up, she tried to focus on the road ahead, but her eyes kept flicking back to you. You looked so... pretty. Gorgeous, even. The kind of gorgeous that made her chest ache.

But she wasn't allowed to think that anymore.

You climbed into the car, bringing a rush of cold air and the familiar scent of your perfume. It hit her all at once—clean, warm, unmistakably you.

You smiled at her, soft and unassuming, like this wasn't tearing her apart inside. "Hi."

Tara forced herself to smile back. "Hi." Her voice sounded steadier than she expected, but her hands tightened around the steering wheel.

"Did I keep you waiting?" she asked, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

You shook your head lightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "It's not that cold."

Tara nodded, focusing on the road ahead. The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't easy either. She glanced over at you more than she should've, her eyes darting between you and the road. It wasn't safe, but she couldn't help it.

She hadn't seen you since... that day. She didn't let herself think too much about it, but the absence had been loud, impossible to ignore. She wanted to see if you'd changed, if the time apart had shaped you into someone she wouldn't recognize.

But you hadn't, not really. Your makeup was the same, soft but striking, though it was hard to tell in the dim light. What caught her attention was your hair—curled, just like you always liked it. She couldn't forget that detail, not after how often you used to mention it.

Her chest tightened as she pulled into the driveway. The house was already lit up, warm lights spilling out through the windows. Tara shifted into park but didn't move to get out.

When you reached for the door handle, she found her voice. "Wait."

You paused, turning to look at her with an expression she couldn't quite read.

Tara swallowed hard. "You don't have to do this. I mean, you don't have to do things you don't want to." Her voice wavered, betraying the guilt clawing at her insides. "I already feel bad enough for bringing you here."

You stared at her for a moment before your lips curved into another soft smile. "It's fine, Tara. Really."

There was something in your tone—something that felt like forgiveness, or maybe understanding. Whatever it was, it made her chest ache.

You opened the door and stepped out, and for a second, Tara just sat there, staring at the space you'd left behind. Then she followed, pulling her coat tighter around her as the cold air bit at her skin.

The crunch of snow beneath your boots filled the quiet, rhythmic and steady, but it only seemed to make Tara's heart race faster. Her breaths came in small, uneven clouds of white against the cold night air, and the house—Sam and Danny's house—felt simultaneously too close and too far.

Her hand flexed at her side, fingers twitching with the urge to grab onto something, anything, to steady herself. Instead, she settled for another glance at you as you walked beside her, bundled up tightly in your coat.

When you finally reached the porch, Tara stopped just short of the door, her eyes darting nervously to your hand before you raised it to knock. The sharp sound echoed, muffled slightly by the snow-covered world around you.

The footsteps from inside were quick and loud, growing nearer. Tara swore she could hear her own pulse in her ears, each beat screaming louder as the steps approached. And then, before she could even register what was happening, your hand slipped into hers.

The touch wasn't firm; it wasn't clingy or desperate. It was light—practiced in a way that made her chest twist painfully.

Of course, she told herself, it was just an act. You were just trying to make it look believable for everyone inside, the story you both had silently agreed to sell tonight. But as her fingers curled around yours in reflex, Tara couldn't help but wonder why she wanted to hold on longer than she should have.

It doesn't mean anything. The words echoed in her mind, a mantra she tried to cling to as tightly as she clung to the warmth of your hand.

The door swung open a moment later, and Chad's bright, too-loud voice broke through the tension like a hammer.

"Hey! There they are—the lovebirds!" He stepped into the doorway, his grin wide and genuine, his voice carrying enough energy to fill the whole porch. "We were starting to think you'd bailed on us."

Tara felt her throat tighten, her lips pressing into a small smile that she hoped looked convincing.

"Never," you said smoothly, the lightness in your voice so practiced that it almost made Tara's knees buckle. How were you doing this? Acting like it didn't tear you apart as much as it tore her apart?

Chad didn't wait for more of a greeting before pulling you both into one of his signature awkward hugs, his long arms wrapping around both you and Tara in a way that left Tara stiff and unprepared. "Good to see you two," he said as he let go, stepping back and ushering you inside with a sweeping gesture.

Behind him, Mindy and Anika appeared, both smiling warmly at the sight of you.

"About time," Mindy said with a teasing grin, leaning casually against the doorframe. Her eyes flicked between you and Tara, sparkling with mischief. "We were betting on how late you'd be. I said fifteen minutes. Anika said twenty."

"It's seventeen," Anika chimed in, nudging Mindy with her elbow. "So technically, we both win."

"Technically, we're both losers for betting on their arrival time," Mindy shot back, though her voice was light and playful. She gestured for you both to come inside, her grin only widening.

As soon as you stepped over the threshold, the warmth of the house hit Tara like a wave—cozy and overwhelming all at once. She hesitated for a moment, letting you move ahead to slip off your coat. When you let go of her hand to shrug the jacket off your shoulders, the cold absence of your touch hit her harder than it should have.

The living room was just as she remembered, glowing softly with Christmas lights that lined the walls and a tree in the corner. The scent of pine hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of something warm and spicy coming from the kitchen. It was homey, inviting—and everything Tara didn't want to face tonight.

"Finally!" Sam's voice rang out from the hallway, and Tara tensed instinctively, her head snapping toward her sister. Sam's sharp eyes scanned the both of you, her expression hovering somewhere between teasing and judgmental. "What'd you do, get lost on the way here?"

Danny appeared at Sam's side, his easygoing smile balancing out her sarcasm. "Better late than never," he added with a chuckle, offering you a nod in greeting.

Tara risked a glance at you, but your expression was unreadable—calm and steady, like a mask she couldn't see past. She hated it. She hated how distant you felt even when you were standing right there, hated how you could smile and joke when she felt like she could barely breathe.

"C'mon," Chad said suddenly, breaking the moment with a clap of his hands. "Food's getting cold, and I'm starving. Let's move this along."

The others began filing into the dining room, their chatter filling the space and making it seem smaller somehow. Tara lingered in the entryway for a moment longer, trying to catch her breath and slow her racing heart.

She glanced at you one last time, her stomach twisting as she watched you follow the others inside. The way you moved—the way you held yourself—felt so painfully familiar and achingly distant all at once.

Tara exhaled shakily, forcing herself to take a step forward. The night had only just begun.

The dining table was a mix of warmth and chatter, filled with the sounds of clinking glasses and silverware scraping against plates. Laughter echoed from one side to the other as stories were exchanged, and it should have felt cozy, comforting even, but Tara could barely breathe. She sat beside you, stiff as a board, pretending to listen as the others talked, though most of her attention was on you.

You looked so composed, so poised, effortlessly keeping up with every question thrown your way.

"So," Chad started, leaning forward with a grin that was far too wide. "What's next for you guys? Got any big plans?"

Tara froze, her heart lurching. She parted her lips to speak, but you were faster, the practiced ease in your voice cutting through before she could even form a word.

"Yeah," you said, smiling as if it didn't weigh you down. "We've talked about traveling a lot. We both want to see more of the world."

Your voice carried such sincerity that Tara almost believed it. Almost. The smile you directed at her was soft, genuine, the same one you'd given her a hundred times before. It sent a pang through her chest, sharp and unforgiving.

Tara swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod along like nothing was wrong. But everything about this was wrong.

"That's amazing," Anika chimed in from across the table, her tone warm and encouraging. "You two would have so much fun. Where would you go first?"

"I think Europe," you replied easily, the answer rolling off your tongue like you'd rehearsed it. "Tara's always wanted to visit Italy, so maybe we'd start there."

Tara's stomach churned. Italy had been one of her dreams for years, but now it was just another casualty of the life you two had planned together—a life she'd ripped apart.

The guilt was unbearable.

But what shattered her completely was when, as everyone nodded and hummed in agreement, you placed your hand on her thigh.

Tara's breath hitched, the weight of your touch sending a jolt through her. Her fingers twitched at her side, unsure of what to do. But then instinct took over—old habits she couldn't quite let go of. She reached for your hand, placing hers over yours like she always used to.

Her thumb brushed lightly against your skin, the motion automatic and gentle. She glanced at you, mustering the smallest smile she could manage. It wasn't like the bright, radiant smiles she used to give you, but it was something.

And you returned it, your eyes meeting hers briefly before you turned your attention back to the others.

Tara wanted to crawl out of her skin.

When the conversation shifted and someone else started talking, her gaze remained fixed on you. She watched as the mask slipped from your face, just for a second, but long enough for her to see the cracks beneath it.

She saw the way your fingers fidgeted nervously, tangling together and picking at the edges of your nails. She noticed how your plate remained mostly untouched, the food moved around but barely eaten. You barely spoke when the spotlight wasn't on you, your posture sinking into the chair as the conversation moved on without you.

And Tara knew.

She knew you didn't want to be here. She knew you didn't want to sit at this table and laugh along with everyone as though nothing had changed.

And worst of all, she knew why you were here—because she had asked.

The guilt burned hotter in her chest, clawing its way up her throat. She wanted to scream, to stand up and tell everyone what she had done. That she was the reason you were like this, the reason everything was falling apart. She wanted to tell them she'd broken up with you. That she'd hurt you in ways she didn't know how to fix.

But she didn't.

Because she was a coward.

Because she'd brought you here for selfish reasons—to avoid the questions, to keep up the facade for just a little while longer.

The conversation shifted as plates began to empty, and the atmosphere turned lighthearted, playful. Someone—probably Chad—brought up the future, and soon everyone was chiming in, laughing and teasing each other about who would hit the next major milestone first.

"So," Anika said, her tone mischievous as she leaned forward. "Who's gonna be the first to get married?"

Danny chuckled, placing his arm around Sam. "Probably us, right?" he said, glancing at her with a grin. "I mean..."

Sam rolled her eyes but didn't hide her smirk. "Don't start, Danny."

"And the first to have kids!" Mindy chimed in, winking. "Come on, you two are like parents already. It's only a matter of time."

Laughter rippled across the table as Sam shook her head, muttering something about how she wasn't even thirty yet. The conversation quickly turned to Chad, who became the next target of teasing.

"And Chad here," Mindy added, throwing an arm around his shoulders, "is definitely not in the running for any of this since he's still single."

"Hey!" Chad exclaimed, feigning offense. "I'm just waiting for the right person, okay? I'm picky."

"Oh, we know," Anika teased, and everyone laughed again.

Tara tried to keep up with the banter, forcing herself to smile and laugh along, but she couldn't relax. Not with you sitting beside her, radiating the kind of quiet composure that was both impressive and heartbreaking.

The teasing shifted again, this time focusing on marriage.

"What about you guys?" Chad suddenly asked, his gaze flicking to you and Tara.

Tara tensed, but you didn't miss a beat, smiling politely as you shrugged. "What about us?"

"Well, you guys are like... the couple," Chad said, gesturing between the two of you. "I mean, if anyone's gonna tie the knot soon, it's definitely you two."

Tara's heart dropped into her stomach, and her throat tightened painfully. She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, but you didn't react, your expression as calm and effortless as ever.

She tried to speak, but her voice caught, and it wasn't until someone said your name that she realized they were still talking.

"Right?" Mindy added. "You two are like grossly in love all the time. It's a little nauseating, honestly."

"What?" Tara blurted, her voice a little sharper than she intended. She quickly cleared her throat, forcing a weak smile as she tried to reel it back. "I mean... what?"

Her attempt at sounding casual wasn't entirely convincing, but no one seemed to notice.

"Oh, come on," Mindy said with a grin, leaning back in her chair. "You guys look at each other like the rest of us don't even exist. It's adorable but also sickening. Like, give the rest of us a chance to shine, will you?"

Chad jumped in, nodding enthusiastically. "Seriously, you two are always all over each other. I'm honestly surprised you haven't eloped already."

"Or at least gotten matching tattoos," Anika added with a laugh.

Everyone was chiming in now, talking over each other, their voices blending into a blur of comments and laughter. Tara's ears rang, and she felt like the walls were closing in on her.

Her gaze flicked to you again, and you smiled—actually smiled—like none of this was bothering you. Like you weren't sitting here pretending that everything was fine when, in reality, it was far from it.

Tara swallowed hard, forcing herself to join in the laughter even though her chest felt like it was caving in. She clenched her hands under the table, nails digging into her palms as the guilt clawed its way back up her throat.

She wanted to scream. To tell them all to stop. To tell them the truth.

But she couldn't.

Because this was her fault. And she wasn't brave enough to face the fallout of her own mistakes.

The conversations blurred together as Tara sat at the table, her mind too preoccupied to follow along. She kept her eyes on her plate, pushing the food around with her fork, too aware of you sitting beside her, your presence filling the space between them like an unspoken weight.

She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, catching the way you tilted your head as you listened to Mindy tell a story, your lips curling into a soft laugh at the punchline. It was the kind of laugh that reached your eyes, but Tara knew it was wrong. It was forced.

Nobody else seemed to notice.

That's what hurt the most.

She saw the way Chad playfully nudged you, Anika smiling at your responses like you hadn't just lost everything. Even Sam, as perceptive as she could be, remained blissfully ignorant. They all laughed, joked, teased as though nothing had changed.

But Tara knew better.

She saw the tiny details—the way your hands trembled slightly when you reached for your drink, the way you blinked a bit too much when someone mentioned something sentimental, like the future or happiness.

It was in the way you turned your head toward her just a little too late when someone directed a question at the both of you, as if you didn't quite trust yourself to look at her right away.

And it was tearing her apart.

Tara's guilt sat heavy in her chest, weighing down every breath she took. She had always prided herself on being observant, on knowing you better than anyone else. Now, that knowledge felt like a curse.

When you laughed at another one of Chad's jokes, she couldn't help but remember the way you used to laugh with her. Not like this—not forced, not hollow, but real, pure, alive. That laugh had been one of her favorite things about you.

She had stolen it from you.

Her hands tightened into fists under the table, nails digging into her palms, leaving little crescents behind. She wanted to leave. She wanted to stand up and pull you outside, away from all of this, away from the questions and the stares and the suffocating air.

But she couldn't.

Instead, she sat there, silent and still, drowning in the memories of what used to be.

Like the way you used to rest your head on her shoulder during long car rides, your hair tickling her cheek as you murmured about whatever came to mind. Or the way you used to hold her hand without thinking, your fingers curling perfectly around hers as though they were made to fit.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt that.

The Tara from back then—the Tara who loved you so deeply it scared her—felt like a stranger now.

Her eyes burned as she blinked back tears, her gaze fixed on the flickering candle in the center of the table. She had no right to cry. No right to feel this way. Not when she had been the one to let you go.

I don't love you anymore.

The words echoed in her head, haunting and sharp. She had said them so easily, hadn't she? Like they didn't mean anything. Like they weren't the end of everything you'd built together.

But they had been.

Her throat tightened as someone across the table said her name, jolting her out of her thoughts. She blinked, her eyes darting to yours as you turned to her, a question lingering on your face. She hadn't heard what they'd asked, too lost in the storm of her own regret.

You answered for her, your voice calm and steady, effortlessly filling the gap she left behind.

And that was what killed her the most.

Because she realized you didn't need her anymore. Not the way you used to.

But God, how she still needed you.

The dinner was winding down, everyone still buzzing with conversation and laughter as plates were cleared and dishes were passed toward the kitchen.

You'd joined the shuffle at first, picking up your share and helping where you could. But after a few minutes, you paused, wiping your hands on a napkin.

"It's really hot in here," you said lightly, voice even as you glanced around the room. "I think I'm gonna step out for some air."

No one thought much of it—Danny nodded absentmindedly as he carried a stack of plates, and Chad cracked a joke about the crowd being the real cause of the heat.

But Tara noticed. She noticed how your smile didn't quite reach your eyes when you spoke, how your fingers lingered on the back of one of the chairs before you finally turned to leave.

Her chest tightened as she watched you step out, closing the door behind you. She told herself it wasn't a big deal, that you were probably just overwhelmed like anyone would be.

The house was crowded, the air thick with the scent of food, candles, and too many conversations happening at once. It made sense to need a moment.

But a part of her couldn't let it go. What if you weren't just cooling off? What if you'd decided you'd had enough? Tara knew it was selfish—knew it was her fault you were even here in the first place—but the idea of you leaving, of walking away from this final thread of connection, made her stomach twist.

After a few minutes of trying and failing to distract herself by helping Sam and Mindy dry dishes, she gave in. She grabbed her coat from the back of a chair but didn't bother to put it on as she slipped outside, the cold hitting her immediately. Her breath puffed out in soft clouds as she scanned the porch.

You were there.

Leaning against the railing, your arms braced on the snow-dusted wood like the cold didn't bother you. Tara's steps were quiet as she approached, but the faint creak of the boards and the crunch of snow beneath her shoes announced her presence. You didn't turn, though. She didn't expect you to.

It wasn't until she was standing beside you that she noticed the cigarette. The faint orange glow lit up your fingers as you raised it to your lips, the smoke curling up into the night air.

She blinked, thrown off. You? Smoking?

The memory of countless conversations came rushing back. You had hated the smell of cigarettes when you first met. You'd begged her not to pick up the habit, your voice firm but your eyes soft as you reminded her how much it had bothered you growing up. You'd even tried to get Sam to quit once, though that hadn't gone anywhere.

"I didn't know you smoked," Tara said softly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

You didn't flinch, didn't even seem surprised. Maybe you'd heard her coming.

"Me either," you replied simply, taking a slow drag. You exhaled, the smoke mingling with the cold air as you added, "I took one from Sam's pack. Think she'll notice?"

Tara's stomach churned at the casualness of your words. She wanted to ask why. Wanted to tell you that this wasn't you, that you didn't have to do this—especially not because of her. But instead, she forced a small laugh, her breath shaky as she said, "Probably. She counts those like they're her kids."

You huffed a laugh at that, the sound dry but genuine.

Tara shoved her hands into her pockets, trying to ignore the way her fingers itched to reach for yours.

She told herself it wasn't her job to worry about you anymore. She'd forfeited that right when she'd said the things she'd said, done the things she'd done.

But no matter how hard she tried to convince herself, the knot in her chest didn't go away.

The porch light cast a dim, uneven glow, its bulb faintly flickering, like it was moments away from giving out completely. Tara figured Sam had been telling Danny to change it for months now, but of course, nothing ever got done until it absolutely needed to.

But under that weak light, you looked radiant. Your features softened against the backdrop of snow, the glow highlighting the curve of your cheekbone and catching in your eyes whenever you glanced at the cigarette in your hand. The cold brought a flush to your cheeks, and a stray curl brushed against your temple, no doubt loosened from the wind or your absentminded movements.

It wasn't just how beautiful you were in that moment—it was the way you looked exactly as you had two years ago. The same girl Tara had fallen in love with. The girl she couldn't get enough of, who consumed her every thought and who made her believe in a love so fierce it terrified her.

And yet, you were also the girl she said she didn't love anymore.

She swallowed thickly, her chest aching as the memories hit her all at once. She thought about how many nights she'd spent staring at you across a table just like this, thinking about how lucky she was. How lucky she had been. And now? Now she'd forced you here, to this Christmas dinner, just because she couldn't bring herself to tell the people closest to her the truth.

The truth that she'd broken you.

You were facing away, your gaze somewhere out in the snowy darkness, but before she could stop herself, the words slipped out, quiet and unbidden.

"You look really pretty."

Your head turned toward her slowly, the cigarette still balanced loosely between your fingers. The porch light illuminated your face, and it was only then she saw the sadness in your eyes. It wasn't anger, frustration, or bitterness. It was a quiet, aching sorrow that somehow felt worse than anything else.

"Please don't say that," you said softly.

Your voice was steady, but the words cut through her like a blade. She didn't need you to explain; she knew exactly what you meant.

Why would she say that? Why would she tell you how beautiful you were when she'd been the one to shatter everything between you?

When she'd been the one to tell you she didn't love you anymore? For all she knew, you still loved her. Maybe you were still clinging to what she'd so carelessly cast aside.

Her throat tightened as she looked at you, helpless to say anything else. She wanted to take it back, to swallow the words and pretend they hadn't been spoken. But it was too late. She'd opened her mouth and let herself slip, and now the weight of her own guilt was unbearable.

Because as much as she told herself she'd ended things to spare you—to spare herself—she couldn't ignore the truth.

She still thought you were the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. And she hated herself for it.

The silence between you stretched out, heavy and suffocating. Tara felt it settle deep in her chest, wrapping itself around her ribs until she could hardly breathe. She'd made a mistake—again. Speaking without thinking. Letting the guilt spill out in ways that only made things worse.

But it wasn't just the guilt. It was the shame.

She hadn't even apologized. Not properly. Not for how she ended things, not for the way she left you to pick up the pieces while she avoided facing the truth of what she'd done. She had no excuse for it—only cowardice.

She couldn't stop herself this time. The words clawed their way up her throat, and her voice came out trembling, low and unsteady.

"I just..." she started, but her breath hitched. Her vision blurred, and she blinked quickly, trying to keep herself together. "I'm really sorry. About how things ended between us."

You didn't move, your expression unreadable as you stared at the snow-covered street ahead. Tara's chest felt like it was caving in.

"I just wanted you to know that," she added, her voice even quieter now. She bit down on her lip to stop it from trembling, her hands clenched tightly at her sides to keep them from shaking.

She didn't know what else to say, how to put into words the regret that was swallowing her whole. Her heart ached with the weight of everything she couldn't undo, everything she couldn't take back.

All she could do was stand there, her breaths shallow, waiting for whatever you would say in return.

The air felt colder now, biting at Tara's skin, but she barely noticed. She was too caught up in the silence that followed her apology, every second stretching unbearably long. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and for a moment, she thought you wouldn't say anything at all.

But then you spoke, softly, almost as if the words didn't carry much weight to you anymore.

"I know."

Tara blinked, stunned by the simplicity of your response. She wasn't sure what she'd expected—anger, maybe. Hurt. Anything but this strange, calm acceptance.

You took another drag of your cigarette, exhaling smoke into the cold night air before adding, "I am too."

The words hit her harder than she thought they would. They felt surreal, bizarre even. As if this was the first time you'd been honest about how you felt since the breakup, but also the first time Tara realized that honesty wasn't going to fix anything.

Her throat tightened, and she didn't know what to say. What could she say to that? Apologies felt hollow now, and explanations were meaningless. She had already said everything she could.

All she could do was stand there, her gaze fixed on you as you leaned against the railing. The faint glow of the porch light cast soft shadows over your face, and even now, even in this moment, Tara thought you looked beautiful.

And just as beautiful as you were, the truth of it all settled painfully in Tara's chest: you were done being hers. And there wasn't anything she could do to change that.

The silence stretched between you both, thick and heavy, like neither of you knew how to move forward or retreat. Tara's throat felt tight, her apology still hanging in the air. She wanted to say more, but her courage faltered. You stood there quietly, flicking the cigarette's ash into the snow, your expression unreadable now.

Before she could find the words to say anything else, the porch door creaked open behind her.

"Come on, lovebirds," Anika's teasing voice cut through the moment, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Time for gift-giving before Chad opens all his early."

Tara stiffened, heat rising in her cheeks as Anika's words sank in. She forced herself to glance at you, but you didn't even flinch. Instead, you gave Anika the same soft, effortless smile you'd been wearing all night—the one that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"I'll be right in," you said lightly, flicking the last of the cigarette into the snow before turning back to the railing.

Anika lingered for a moment, her eyes flicking between the two of you like she was waiting for something more. But when neither of you moved, she gave a quick shrug and disappeared back inside, the sound of her laughter fading into the warmth of the house.

Tara stayed frozen in place, staring at the closed door, her heart pounding against her ribs.

"You should go," you murmured, not looking at her. "They'll start asking questions if you don't."

She hesitated, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She wanted to say something, to break through the mask you were wearing, but she couldn't find the words. And maybe that was the point—there was nothing left to say, nothing that would make this easier or less painful.

With a quiet nod, she turned and walked back to the house, each step feeling heavier than the last. As the door shut behind her, the noise of the dinner enveloped her, but her mind stayed outside, on the porch, with you.

Inside, the world felt wrong. Too loud, too warm, too suffocating. Sam called her over, Danny was laughing with Chad, and Anika was already pulling Mindy into the gift pile, but all Tara could focus on was the pit in her stomach and the way her chest ached.

Her legs moved on autopilot, carrying her back to the living room, but her mind kept circling the same thought: she should've stayed. She should've stayed with you on the porch and said everything she couldn't say before. She should've explained why she ended things, even if she didn't know how to make it make sense to herself.

Because you deserved more than this. More than her selfish need to keep up appearances. More than her cowardice disguised as convenience.

She sat down on the couch, forcing a smile when Chad joked about something she didn't catch. She could feel Sam's eyes on her, like her sister could sense the storm raging inside her, but for once, Sam didn't press. The guilt sat like a weight in Tara's chest, heavier now than ever, pressing down on her ribs until it hurt to breathe.

She thought of the way you looked under the dim porch light, the snow falling softly around you, your features so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. You were the girl she fell in love with two years ago, the girl she shared everything with, the girl she said she didn't love anymore.

But that was a lie. A lie she told herself so many times she almost believed it.

She didn't know if she loved you the same way now, but she knew one thing with painful certainty—she didn't stop. And she hated herself for letting her fears, her insecurities, and her flaws destroy what you had.

As the gift-giving began and the room filled with laughter and excitement, Tara's smile stayed fixed in place.

But her heart stayed on that porch.

[thecoochiefairy]

𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞

━━ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑛𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒𝑟 .ᐟ toji.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 18.9K word count. moving man! snake catcher! toji, third person omniscient pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, shower sex, rough sex, sweet sex, sweet talkin’, squirting, oral [f] ,choking, praising, fingering, LOTS of dirty talk, a lil degrading?, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, aggressive toji, sweetie toji, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡’𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ; 𝑙𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑒

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ hey guys, it’s been a while, life has been a pain. but i wanted to give you something sweet, cute, hot. so here you go. i love you. 🫶🏽

SHE SHOULD’VE BOUGHT CURTAINS. That’s a thought that crossed her mind, scanning through the front window that looked out into the yard. The sun was creating a warmth into the kitchen—these were things she definitely wouldn’t miss living in this house. 

There weren’t many things she would miss, but if she could think of anything she’d probably think of the happier moments. She could remember the smiles they shared between each other, the giggles that released from her lips as he made her laugh, the joy of showing her child what a family oriented household could be. All that was about to change. 

Her attention was pulled away from the window, a voice coming behind her. A hum of approval released from the person’s lips as they held a wine glass within their hand, allowing the sweetness of the liquid to ignite their taste buds. 

“You may have a horrible taste in men, but you damn sure have a good tongue for wine.” 

She turns her head at her older sister, Serena, then continuing to lean against the window with a soft shake to her head. Her sister was never the type to hold her mouth to anything or anyone—she always reminded her of just how bad she was at identifying a toxic relationship. 

“Do you really think right now is the time to be shitting on me?” 

“When will it be a good time for you to hear the truth?” 

That makes her go silent. It’s not that she wasn’t grown up enough to face reality, but she’d done enough crying about the matter of it all—being divorced at twenty-seven wasn’t something she expected. She’d known her ex-husband since she was twenty-two, falling immensely in love with one another, talking up hopes and dreams of being together forever. He showed her things no other man hadn’t, sweeping her off her feet so well that she immediately agreed to marrying him. It could’ve also been the fact that she was pregnant at the time, but she pushed that thought to the side. 

Having someone to call home had its pro’s, but it also had its many—many cons. As the years had gone by, she learned him. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, for sickness. But only being able to part ways by death wasn’t something she wanted with him, realizing he had a life made for her that she didn’t want for herself, always wanting to make choices for her. Fuck that. 

As she stared down at the princess cut on her ring finger, she thought to herself—she didn’t even like princess cut designed jewelry. He did. 

Her sister then speaks again, “Say, when is that moving company supposed to get here? Did you catch the name of any of the guys?” 

She shook her head in response, “Uh—“ checking the email as she reads, “Fushiguro, that’s the last name of the owner.”

“Is he hot?” her sister questions, smirk along her lips.

She blinks, turning towards her as she asks, “And why would that matter?”

“Well—“ Serena takes another sip of her drink, “You’re a divorcè before the age of thirty, you’re still attractive, and you’re basically a widow! I think you should hop on the next dick the second you get the chance.”

Shaking her head at her opinionated sibling, she disagrees, “Nope, no. I’m just gonna work on bringing my regular customers back in, and focus on Sai—your niece, by the way, did you forget that my child is more important than some dick, Serena?” 

“What about you though? When are you going out to have some fun? Look, I’m not saying you should hook-up the first nigga you see, but I’m just saying your life shouldn’t be entirely fufilled between your business and daughter.”

She sighs, “I wanna have fun, I’m not a grandma. But we haven’t even gotten out of this miserable ass house yet. Let me just—decompress for a bit. You know Nathan would die before I had another man around Sai so soon,” she recalls, sighing as she reaches onto the kitchen counter to grab a glass, beginning to pour some wine for herself. 

Thankfully getting off of her case, Serena then pulls back with a sigh, “Okay—Okay, I’ll get off your ass about it,” She holds up her hands in defense, “Just giving you some advice! Don’t want you to be an old spinster-ass-bitch!” 

“Girl, fuck you.” 

The both of them laugh together, humor becoming their common ground as the tension within the room falters. As they continue to talk, they notice as a steel black semi-truck pulls to the front of the driveway from the window. It’s not what either of them expected, a bright and bold serpent painted against the vehicle, yellow eyes almost three dimensional. 

“I think the moving people are here…” Serena mutters, her eyes peeking over to the window. 

At the same time, the sound of tiny feet smacking along the floor catches their attention. A pink tutu romper appears within both women’s eyes, Sai holding a doll within her hand as she raises her arms to be carried upwards. 

Serena watches as her younger sister playfully groans, pulling her up onto her hip as she smiles, “And what are you so excited for?”

“Look, mommy, we have visitors!” Sai calls, pointing out the window. 

They all looked back to the moving truck that parked just in-front of the house. When the door opens from the semi, Serena’s eyes could’ve popped out of her head. 

She notices her face as she questions, “What?” 

“Oh bitch, yo’ moving man is fine as hell!” 

Serena nearly trips as she gets closer to the window, almost pressing her face against the glass as she watches. It causes her younger sister to frown, placing her daughter back along the ground to figure out what she was going on about. 

“Girl, what the hell are you talking about—“

She halts. Her eyes follow through the window as she watches a man, no—a man step out of the large truck. She wasn’t sure if he was as pretty as an angel, or devilishly attractive. The black muscle tee and overalls he wears compliment his olive skin, the dark ink of his tattoos spread all across his large arms and what looks to be his chest, traveling beneath the fabric of his shirt. He’s tall and broad, nearly stretching everything he wears. She takes notice of a serpent tattoo that swirls around his left arm—similar to the symbol on the truck—starting from his shoulder and slithering down to his palm. She follows up to a strident face, strong jaw, full pink lips—not to mention the immense amount of ink along his neck— coming all the way up to onyx hair, a cigarette poking from his scarred lip. His dark eyebrows make a natural frown, trying desperately to hide him from the sun. 

Serena squints deeply beneath the sun hitting them as she whispers, “Who the fuck… is that? Oh—oh my god… who the hell did you hire, a moving man or an assassin?”  

She frowns, “Why an assassin?”

“Cause he can kill this—“

“Aye!” She smacks her arm, “Sai is literally right here, dumbass!” 

Serena rubs her arm as she pouts, “My bad. Damn.”

The two women in the window continue eyeing him, up until they don’t realize how hard they’re staring. The demon that essentially walks along their property takes notice of them from a distance, and he unexpectedly raises his arm with a smirk, giving a short but almost shy wave.

She turns back towards Serena and asks, “Uh…where’s Nathaniel? Did he leave?”

“Hm?” Her sister looks back at her, and her face drops into a disgusted look, “Oh—ugh—Right. Almost forgot about that prick…” 

 As she mutters to herself, the moving man begins unloading a few boxes from the truck, glancing back over towards the front window, and he notices both women looking out at him again.

He raises a dark brow to himself, setting the boxes down at the doorstep before he heads up to the front door. From the window, both the sisters could see his muscles flexing through his tight attire and the sweat that gleamed along them—and all that ink.

She makes a noise as she feels herself being pushed by Serena who exclaims, “Go open the door, stupid!” 

Rolling her eyes, she calls to her daughter as she says, “Baby girl, go up to your room, please?” 

It happened all in a matter of seconds. Before she can process her daughter’s reaction to her question, Sai’s already running towards the front door, swinging it open which causes both women to call out her name. 

“Sai!”

Once the door was open, the man almost immediately looked down at her, as if he’d seen her running through the house to be defiant. A smirk grew on his face as he squatted down, pulling the cigarette from his mouth to greet the child. 

He gives a little wave, “Hey, cutie. And who might you be?” 

From what both women could hear, his voice was deep and very…hot. 

Sai stared up at the tall man, holding her doll close to her chest as she held the door with her small fingers. Her small voice then greeted, “I’m Sai. I live here with my mommy.”

The man hums, still smiling as he crouches down to her level. He had a very muscular build but he looked surprisingly friendly, especially as scary as his stature was. 

 “Sai… that’s a very pretty name for a pretty girl…” he chuckles, “Your mother around?”

Taking a deep breath, she appears around the corner as she gently grabs for her daughter’s hand, turning her eyes back towards the man that looked even better up close. She gets a good look at him as he stands up fully, towering over her in a way she hadn’t expected. But just like her shock, he seemed to be in a state of awe—she just couldn’t see that. 

Her brown skin was a russet tone from the sun, freckles blown all around her face as her slender toffee eyes stared at him in curiosity. Dark eyebrows that arched as if she was mad or in deep thought, middle parted onyx hair that flowed in crimped waves down her back. She was different from most women he’d seen. Her pierced nose that sparkled in the light, the face tattoo on the left side of her dark and fluffy lashes. Jewelry roamed all around both of her ears, fingers, wrists. She was like a fairy. She was ethereal. 

What really stood out to him was the flower cascaded tattoo that started from her neck, traveling all the way down to her right arm, almost similar to his. He could see it from under the blue and sea green dress she wore, the material backless and having a low dip between her breasts. She was sensual, even if she just stood there.

“You can’t just be opening the door, baby,” she lightly scolds her daughter, bringing her eyes up to him as she exhales, “I’m sorry. You um—must be the movers. Fushiguro, right?”

The man still halts to take in her beauty as she stands before him. She was… stunning. His eyes glance over her body, focusing on the tattoo that traveled down her arm, his mind trying to get a glimpse of what was on her hidden skin. He almost forgets what he had to say as he just… stared at her. 

He finally speaks after he comes back to his senses, “Yeah, that’s right. But you can just call me Toji,” he answers.

“Stoney,” she introduces, placing her hand out to him. 

The man behind Toji then asks, “That’ your real name?”

She blinks, not answering for a moment. She then replies, “Got charged back in high school for throwing a rock at a girl. She lived.”

Toji chuckles at her words as he takes her hand with his own, large and rough to the touch. He takes notice of her jewelry and small hands. 

“Stoney… that’s a real unique name too,” his co-worker  comments again, watching as Toji’s hand lingers against hers for a few seconds longer. 

He glances behind him when the other guy speaks up and Toji rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Shut up already,” he mutters before looking back at her, “Anyway, where should we take your things?”

“Sorry, um—do you mind just holding on? My ex-husband should be here soon. He’s the one paying so…I just don’t want you working for free.”

“We have to get a move along,” the man behind Toji says, Stoney looking behind him. 

She puts her hair behind her ear as she nods, “Right. I’m sorry.”

Toji gives her a quick glance as she mentions her ex-husband. She’s divorced. 

“It’s alright,” Toji takes back, trying to sound at least a little bit polite, turning back towards his co-worker with a deathly stare, “He’s a dick. Don’t worry about it, we can wait.”

She takes a breath as she looks back to Toji, ignoring the other man as she says, “Thank you. Do you guys wanna …come inside? You can get some water and stuff before you get to moving shit. My daughter has already seemed to invite you into the home before I could introduce myself,” she gives a smile, Sai giggling beneath her.

Toji chuckles again, “Nah. You don’t gotta’ go through that trouble.” 

His co-worker then butts in, “Actually… some water would do us good, it’s been a damn hot day today.” 

Toji nearly glares back at him before he states, “Uh—yeah. Sure. Thank you.”

Stoney turns, beginning to pull Sai towards the kitchen with her, large hips round within the dress she wears, nearly wanting to rip through the fabric. She doesn’t notice Toji’s eyes against her. Not that it was her concern, but she was hoping he seemed the least bit physically attracted to her. Guess he didn’t. 

Her sister then greets the men as well, reaching her hand out and grabbing Toji’s as she says, “Oh wow, look at that, Stoney. Nice hands. Strong. Good for moving boxes.” 

Stoney rolls her eyes, “Please ignore my sister.”

He chuckles, “I’m good with my hands,” he replies back, shaking her hand with his own strong one before letting go. “Don’t worry.”

“So, how long have you had this company?” Serena asks, “Is it a family business, or just you?” 

Stoney passes water to both men, taking her daughter as she sits against a chair to half listen to their conversation. It’s not that she wasn’t interested, she was just more focused on texting her ex-husband for a third time. 

“I’ve had it for about four years or so.” he answers, “Nah, it’s not a family business. It’s all me.” 

“Ooh, a working man by himself. Hear that, Stoney?” Her sister pulls her attention again, giving her a smirk. 

Stoney rolls her eyes, “I hear,” she brings her eyes back up, “Having your own business is a pain in the ass.” 

“Stoney owns her own business as well,” her sister adds on, crossing her arms with a smirk as she sees Toji’s eyebrows raise.

“Really?” he questions, glancing over at Stoney sitting in the chair, “What kind of business do you have?” 

Stoney shakes her head, “It’s nothing as big as a whole moving company…I’m a ceramicists. I make stuff out of pottery—“ she then pauses to cover her daughter’s ears, “…Astray’s, bongs, plates. Shit like that. It’s not a big deal.”

Toji can’t help but smirk when she covers her daughter’s ears so she won’t hear her mother curse. He found it cute. 

“Not a big deal?” he repeats, “Shit, sounds like you make good ass money. I’ve seen some ceramicists’ work, especially glass. They make a pretty dime doing that type of work.”

“Tell that to her bastard of an ex-husband,” Serena scoffs, Stoney quickly cutting her off, “Hey. Chill.” 

Stoney then turns back to him, “Thank you. I just got back into my business. Had to put it on hold when I had Sai. So it’ll be an exciting little journey for me.”

“Well, all the power to you.” he says simply, ignoring the sisters' comments to each other beforehand,  “How old is your daughter?” 

“How old are you, baby?” Stoney looks down to the little girl, “You remember?”

“I’m four!” the little girl replies, lifting her small fingers to show her age. 

Toji lets out another chuckle at the innocence in her

 tone, “Just four years old… she’s adorable.“

“She’s actually five,” Stoney chuckles, “We’re still working on numbers. She’s moving into public school instead of the daycare she’s been in, so she’s really excited…” 

She then pauses, realizing as she’s over explaining. She only ever did that with people she was comfortable with. Or liked. 

She then pulls her hair behind her shoulder with an awkward chuckle, “Sorry. You didn’t ask all that.”

“You’re good. Keep talking to me.”

Stoney’s eyes flick up at him, seeing as he crossed his arms over his chest, awaiting for her to continue. She couldn’t help but notice the depth of his eyes, a steel grey that knocked into all of her senses. Serena raises her eyebrows, shrugging as she takes a sip of her wine. 

“I—I—um—anyways, I hope it isn’t too hot for you guys today. I can try to help as much as I can.”

Toji noticed the way she shifts within her seat. She was easily reactive. He then shakes his head, “You’re not paying me for shits and giggles. We’ve got this, no worries.” 

Sai then says, “Can I go back up to my room?” 

“Sure, baby. I’ll call you back down when it’s time to go.” 

Stoney gives her a kiss on the cheek, Sai turning back towards Toji as she says, “Are you coming with us to our new house?”

Toji smiles at Sai, “Yeah. I’ll be there,” he answers, watching as she giggles, “Yay!” before running up the stairs disappearing into her bedroom. 

He’s silent for a few seconds until he looks back over at Stoney before stating, “Your kid’s a sweet one.”

“Don’t give her too much credit, she’s a kiss-ass in front of new people.”

Her sister then disagrees, “Now you know damn well that girl don’t be all sweet on new people. She’s like a dog or a newborn, can always sniff out the good ones. You’ married, Toji?” 

“Jesus, Serena. Can the man breathe without you asking invasive ass questions?” Stoney glares. 

Her sister shrugs, “Just curious.”

“No, I’m not married.” he answers, finally taking another sip of the cold water they gave him, his dark eyes never leaving Stoney’s.

When Stoney sees that he looks directly at her while answering the question, she focuses her attention on her wine, her face becoming warm—she’s unsure if it’s the drink, or her nervousness. 

Serena then nods, “You’re extremely handsome. Any reason why you’re not married? Crazy? Commitment issues? Dead wife?”

“Girl!” Stoney gripes, “Don’t be a bitch.”

“No dead wife.” he answers back, a smirk appearing on his face, “Just haven’t found the right woman to marry.”

“Hm,” Her sister’s eyes flick him up and down as she then nods to Stoney, “Commitment issues.” 

“Alright, my sister will be leaving now!” 

Stoney stands from the chair, placing her hands on her sisters shoulders, pushing her towards the door, “The moving guys are here, so you can kick fuckin’ rocks. Goodbye!”

Toji watches as her sister leaves, not trying to hide his amused expression as Serena complains on her way out the door. She gives him a wink as she mouths, ‘Call me’, exiting the house with a loud slam to the door.  

“…I can see why you need a break from her.” Toji says with a dry chuckle, placing the now empty glass down on the nearby counter.

“Imagine coming from the same womb as her,” she sighs, turning her attention back towards her phone, rolling her eyes as she says, “I’m sorry. He should be here soon. Um…let me put a couple more boxes outside the door so it’s easier for you guys.”

Toji nods at her words, watching her as she walks off to one of the areas and brings down at least two boxes. His eyes couldn’t help but linger on her for just a few moments as she walked, his eyes boring at her ass. 

He shakes away his thoughts as she comes back into the kitchen as he asks, “You got a lot more stuff to move?”

“It’s just boxes, a lazy boy and my sofa. I hope it isn’t too heavy for you guys, I seriously don’t mind helping,” she offers, staring in between the both of them, “It’s gonna be hot, and my daughter is gonna talk your ears off while this happens, so I want to extend an olive branch.”

He shakes his head, “You don’t gotta’ worry about it, momma. We move heavy shit all the time,” he answers, his eyes locked onto hers. 

She nods, “Okay, well—how about I buy you some cigarettes? Some top dollar shit. I saw you smoking before you knocked on the door. Whatever you smoke—on me. Or I can make the both of you a little astray—Yeah?”

Toji raises his eyebrows, a little bit surprised at her offer as he asks, “You’ trying to bribe me?” giving her a smirk again as he spoke.

She giggles awkwardly, “No! No. I just—feel bad for making you guys wait. Seriously, let me do that for you. Otherwise I might cry.”

“You gonna cry if you don’t buy any cigarettes for us?” 

She was adorable. Actually adorable to him. 

She rolls her eyes, “I’m tryna’ be nice here. I could be like my hoe-ass sister.”

His chuckle is attractive to her. She didn’t mind hearing it as he then says, “That’s cool too. I’d rather you not feel like you have to do something for us, we can wait on your ex-husband.”

She then sighs, crossing her arms almost like a child. She finishes off with,  “I’m getting the cigarettes—Actually, if you don’t mind, I think you guys should at least move the sofa first. That’s the biggest thing— and the heaviest, so you can do that now. I’ll grab some more water, and the rest can wait until he gets here.”

Once he nods to his partner, she makes her way back to the kitchen, glancing at her phone and trying to call Nathaniel.  No answer. Again. As she puts her phone up to her cheek, she watches from afar as both men grunt, effortlessly picking up the large furniture. Her eyes glance over Toji’s large arms, flexing as he holds the sofa up on his shoulder. She wonders what else he can hold up in the air like that.

So much for a phone call back. As they make their way outside towards the truck, a car comes speeding into the driveway, Stoney nearly rolling her eyes as she jumps at the abrupt vehicle. Both men halted their movement, placing the sofa down as they were at alert from now fast the car was moving. 

She calls to both Toji and his partner, “You guys okay?” 

“We’re fine.” Toji answers, his eyes then falling on the now parked car, watching as the driver's seat opens. Stoney hid her irritation as her ex-husband had finally arrived back to his own house. 

“You’re late, Nathaniel.”

He steps out of the car, not at all acknowledging the truck or the two men that stand across from it. He lets out a scoff as he slams the door, “I said I’d be here at 12. I’m here now, aren’t I?” 

He then looks over at Toji and his partner, an unreadable expression on his face. “You brought movers? You don’t even have that much shit.”

“You hired them, did you forget?” She frowns, ignoring his light jab, “You’re supposed to pay them. This is your house, Nathan.”

Nathaniel smacks his lips, “I’m here, why are you still talking? You’ just wanna hear yourself complain.” 

Toji raises an eyebrow, his partner glancing at him as he fully takes his weight off of the sofa he leaned into. He asks, “You’ good?” 

Stoney blinks at the question, shaking her head as she says, “I’m okay—“

“I’m asking him.” 

When she realizes that he was asking Nathaniel, her eyebrows raise. The sweet nature he’d given off faded quickly, seeing as he looked between her and her ex-husband, his face entirely serious. She wasn’t sure why her heart was beating so fast. 

“Can you just pay them, please?” She tries to change the subject, hoping that this man stops looking at Nathaniel. His stare was deadly. 

Nathaniel frowns towards Toji before muttering, “Whatever,” shoving his hand into his pocket as he then takes out a wad of money, reaching it out to him. 

Toji doesn’t budge, flicking his eyes down to the money before looking back up at him. His partner then reaches out as he presses his lips into a thin line, taking the money himself as he politely thanks him.

Nathaniel then turns his attention back towards Stoney. He eyes her in a way that she didn’t appreciate, almost as if he was disgusted with her. 

“Don’t you think you wanna put some clothes on?” He glares at the dress she wears. 

Another thing Stoney was aware of, now that they weren’t together, he couldn’t call her insulting terms as a result of the way she dressed. But that didn’t mean his reactions didn’t hurt. She crossed her arms, biting her cheek as she turned away, making her way back into the house to keep herself from becoming upset.

His employee immediately counts it to see how much they were given, while Toji’s eyes linger on the ex-husband as he continues to speak. 

“Did she plan to get dolled up for some movers?” Nathaniel asks, scoffing once more.

Toji then interrupts, “You’ only gave us half of what you owe.”

Nathaniel’s head snaps over to Toji as if he’s shocked by the sound of his voice, as if he was surprised that he’d even spoken to him again. He snarls, “I gave you exactly what was agreed on.” 

Toji’s eye twitches at the guy’s words. He counters, “You gave us fifty percent.  We agreed that you’d pay a hundred percent upfront.”

“What are you tryna’ say? That I can’t give you the money you seem to need so badly?” Nathaniel twists his face up. 

Toji’s partner then tries to keep the peace as he calmly responds, “Sir, that’s not what we’re saying—“

“‘Fuck are you getting pissy for? You agreed to pay us a hundred percent upfront before we even showed up here,” his jaw clenching, “I was nice enough to be here longer than I was supposed to be on account of your ex-wife who apologized for your fuck up’s. I could add charges onto my shit if I wanted to.”

“Everything okay?” 

Stoney appears back outside, holding a box that she seems to struggle with a bit, her eyes falling against Toji who seems to be upset.

Toji’s eyes fall onto Stoney when she appears back outside, and for a moment he had almost forgotten about her from how pissed he was. His irritation and anger towards Nathaniel quickly melted away just at her presence.

“Everything’s fine,” Toji flatly answers, when in reality he wanted to choke-slam this man through his own vehicle. 

Nathaniel laughs mockingly to himself, shaking his head with disbelief, “Of course, it’s fine. This mover is just giving me a hard time for some extra cash.” 

Toji’s jaw clenches again. Yeah, he was definitely creating a hole in the front of his raggedy ass car—with him in it. But before he can retaliate, he remembers Stoney struggling with the box in her hands. He comes up to her as he takes the item from her arms, essentially trying to calm himself. 

“Nathaniel, please stop being rude. Whatever else needs to be covered, I got it,” she brushed off, not wanting a scene to happen in the drive through. 

She watches as Toji then comes forward to take the box from her hand, a breath releasing from her as she exhales with a weak smile, “Thank you, you’re sweet. Um—is everything really okay?” She asks more softly.

Her ex-husband mutters something under his breath as he makes his way past them to go into the house, Toji paying him no mind. His eyes stay focused on Stoney, seeing as she follows behind him towards the truck. 

“I’m good,” he reassures, “Your ex-husband’s a fuckin’ idiot.”

That makes her quietly laugh, “World renowned news. How about I go get those cigarettes, and then we meet back up to head to my place, yeah?”

The corner of Toji’s lips twitches into a smirk once more at her words. He felt comforted by her, it felt strange. 

“Yeah, that’s fine with me,” he answers back, letting out another subtle chuckle, “We’re almost done loading the heavy furniture anyways…just the smaller stuff left.”

She nods, “Good. Don’t worry about him. He’s…a stupid-head,” she rolls her eyes.

“A stupid-head, huh?” 

“Dare I say— an idiot-box. Anyways, let me go. I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

 She waves him off with another smile, hips twisting naturally as she makes her way towards her car. Toji watches her walk to her car, his eyes catching glimpses of her ass once again as she walks, a sight that he definitely wasn’t complaining about. 

“See you…” he says back, his eyes lingering on her until she disappears into the car.

About an hour passes, by the time she arrives back to a place she used to call home, she holds a plastic bag with a couple of cigarette cartons, new paint bottles, and gloves for her future projects. 

The moment she pulls into the driveway, her daughter comes running outside. She halts the car, stepping out as she gripes, “Jesus, Sai! Please don’t run in front of Mommy’s car.”

“I’m sorry, mommy!” Sai pouts, running towards her anyways, coming up to her mother and hugging her leg. 

Stoney reaches down and scoops up the girl into her arms, picking her up quickly, “You gotta be careful, baby. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Okay, mommy,” Sai replies, her voice still young and high. 

Toji and his partner watch as Stoney scoops the girl up into her arms, his eyes flickering between her and her daughter as she walks closer to them. 

She presses a kiss to Sai’s cheek, which makes her giggle. She then turns to Toji, seeing as the sun now has him drenched in sweat, dripping down his arms and into his shirt—his overalls now pulled down past his hips— the sight making him look even more attractive. 

She brings her focus back to his face as she asks, “Uh…you guys ready to go?”

He lifts the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead, the fabric getting stuck to his skin for a moment. He then looks over to her again when she speaks, his eyes flickering down to the plastic bag in her hand. 

“Yeah, we’re ready,” he answers back, nodding.

Once she puts all of the rest of her things into her car, it takes them about thirty minutes to get to her house. It looked almost similar to a condo, the divorce settlement paying off the debt of this house—a place her and her daughter could grow up together. Maybe start a family of their own—without her ex-husband. But unfortunately, he was always going to be Sai’s father. 

As she opens the door, she watches as Sai gasps excitedly at the home. She giggles as she runs around the halfly furnished home, spinning in circles with all the room she has. 

 Stoney smiles, “You like it, baby?”

“I love it, mommy!” 

 Toji and his partner trailing behind them, the both of them taking a glance around, silently observing the place before Toji comments,  “Nice house.”

Stoney sighs, “The bastard paid for it. Not by choice. Word of advice, don’t not sign a pre-up to someone you won’t end up with. Otherwise, they’ll strip you for all you have,” she winks, scanning her eyes around the black and white modern home.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” he mentions, a small grin forming across his lips. 

His partner lets out another subtle chuckle from his side.  The two of them follow behind her and the little girl as she shrugs, “Heard that from a friend or something.”

A marble white kitchen island stretched for days on end. It was a beautiful sight, and she felt blessed to have this with her baby girl. Sai’s bedroom was upstairs, Stoney’s bedroom large and on the first floor, tilting right across from the front door to where she could see onto her porch. It was perfect.  She watches as they begin bringing more boxes inside, having a thought resurface that had her curiosity peak. 

“So, what’s with the snake on the side of your truck?”

At her question, both of the men looked over at where she was looking. Toji sees the logo on the side of the truck and then looks back at her. 

“Thought’ it was cool, it also symbolizes the power of healing,” he briefly explains.

“He’s full of shit. The crazy bastard catches snakes in his downtime,” his partner concludes.

Stoney’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. There was no way in hell she'd actually heard him say that.  She exclaims, “Oh hell no! I’d rather die than be inches close—feet close—FOOTBALL field feet close to a snake!”

His partner laughs, Toji rolling his eyes at her words, “It’s not that bad, I promise you,” he answers back. 

His partner lets out another laugh, “He’s lying. It’s terrible.” 

As Toji shoots a glare at his friend, Stoney then interrupts, “Sounds terrible. Do you like catching them? What happens after you catch them?” 

Toji looks at her as he’s asked the questions, watching the confused yet concerned expression on her face. Her brown eyes sparkle in curiosity. 

“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” he teases, a smirk forming across a smug smile. He chuckles, “It’s not terrible, seriously. If it’s a business call, it’s to remove them from jobs, apartments or houses. Recreationaly? I just like to catch them, take some pictures with them and then let them go.”

“Yeah—no. You could give me a billion dollars, and a unicorn that shits a hundred dollar bills. I still wouldn’t touch a snake. That was made by the devil!” She shivers.

Toji lets out another laugh as she speaks, finding her words to be amusing despite how over the top they may have been. He’ll admit that snakes aren’t the most appealing creatures, but they’re not the worst. 

“I promise you, they’re not as bad as you think they are,” he answers back, lifting up one of the furniture pieces with his partner, “And they’re more scared of you then you are of them.”

“Bullshit! If it was more scared of me, it wouldn’t bite me! Or be poisonous!” She follows behind them, going around to open the door wider for them to pull the sofa in.

“You don’t have to worry about them biting you if you leave them alone, momma,” he counters. 

His partner laughs as he walks backward through the door, helping Toji carry the furniture as he instigates,  “You’d be surprised at how many times he gets bitten.”

“And you lived?! Is a premonition moving my boxes right now?” 

“You mean apparition?” His friend asks.

“Whatever the fuck!” She exclaims back.

“Y’all are dramatic as fuck,” Toji finalizes. His partner lets out another laugh from his words, rolling his eyes as they finally get the furniture into the home.

She then says, “My sister might’ve been right. Maybe you are crazy.” 

The moment she hears both men chuckle, Sai then comes back into the living room as she calls, “Mommy! Did you ask Daddy about my orchids?”

Stoney sighs, remembering the promise she’d made to her daughter earlier that morning. She nods, “Yes, baby. Let me ask again, okay?”

When she sees a look of confusion along Toji’s face, she shakes her head as she explains, “Sai wanted to start a garden since the front door kinda has a porch area. She always loved plants, I guess she essentially found an art for herself. She wants orchids as her first flowers.”

“Orchids, huh?” he comments, his attention returning to her, “She’s got an expensive ass taste.”

Stoney rolls her eyes, “Very. But—gimme’ a second? Let me make a call, and I’ll be back.” 

She gives a soft smile, turning away from them as she makes her way back outside, going to grab for the bag of groceries she’d bought earlier that included their cigarettes. She calls Nathaniel, sighing as he doesn’t pick up until the last ring. 

“Hey—uh, did you end up buying those orchids for Sai today? I sent you those pink ones I saw, they were at a florist not too far from your place. I checked already.”

Nathaniel lets out a scoff as he answers the phone, “That’s what you’re calling me about? No, I haven’t.” 

He sounds irritated, like he’s got more important things to do then to buy some flowers. Stoney could feel herself becoming more irritated than he seemed. 

“I’ll get them when I get the chance,” he finalizes bluntly.

“…But she asked for them today, Nathan. You told me you were gonna get them for her, otherwise I would’ve gotten them myself?” 

She brings her eyes towards the front door as she sees Toji and his partner adjusting the sofa within the living room, trying to keep her composure. She also didn’t realize that Toji could practically hear her conversation.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…I know I said I would,”

Nathaniel responds, not really sounding all too interested in talking to her.

There’s a moment of silence before he speaks again, “What’s the big deal? They’re just flowers.”

“That’s not the point. I just wish you would’ve done it today. It might be flowers to you, but it’s more than that for her.”

“Why are you making such a big deal out of some flowers? I just said I’ll buy her the damn flowers, it doesn’t have to be today,” He answers back, annoyance clear in his tone.

She usually was very patient with this man. But from making a comment about her outfit, to snapping at the movers, to even now. She’d had enough of him for today. 

“Fuck off, don’t worry about it.”

She hangs up the phone, muttering, “Stupid ass nigga,” turning away from the front door as she feels her frown turning into frustrated tears, but she takes a deep breath to drop herself from doing that. She can feel her phone vibrating in her hands, Nathan seemingly trying to call her back after being cussed out. 

Nonetheless, she puts on a little smile as she makes her way back into the house, “Hey. I just—wanted to bring you guys your cigarettes.”

When she returns back into the home, he and his partner are in the midst arranging her furniture, both of them pausing for a moment. Toji notices her facial expressions and her hands clenching, clearly frustrated, which isn’t too surprising given that he can only assume who was the cause of that. 

“You’ good?” He questions, his eyes watching her carefully.

She scans his face, blinking. She then lies, “I’m perfect,” the question bringing tears to gloss in her sockets, but she quickly blinks them back. She didn’t mean for him to see that, but she just hopes he gets the message to not ask. 

“Um, well—you guys have really been amazing. I think I can take it from here. I just want me and Sai to enjoy the peace within our new home, yeah?”

Toji can see the way that her eyes glossed a little at the question, but he doesn’t bring it up in order to not further anger her. He doesn’t know if it’s his place to ask, so he leaves it be. 

“No worries,” he answers back, an attractive but kind smile forming across his lips, “It’s our job, after all. We’ll leave you to the rest of it, then.”

She watches as the other friend washes his hands within the kitchen sink, nodding his head as he begins to make his way out the door. She comfortingly plays with her hair again, lifting the plastic bag to Toji with a weak smile, “You’re really sweet, Toji. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Stop thanking me, I’m just doing my job, momma. Thank you for giving me some shit to do today,” her counters, taking the bag from her hands, his fingers brushing against her own that creates a jolt against her palm. 

With him being so respectful, she couldn’t tell if there was any spark between them—or he was just truly professional. When he said that, it made her realize that her feelings might’ve just been a spur of the moment—a distraction— a need to feel something that wasn’t the loathing of her ex-husband.

She pulls her hair behind her ear, multicolored studs climbing up her lobes as she finalizes, “Of course, yeah.”

Toji can see the way that she pulls back her hair, showing off the collection of piercings in her ear and on the sides of her face. He can see how they sparkle every time they’re met with the light, causing his eyes to stare at them for a little bit, almost admiring them. 

“I hope the move goes well,” he says, returning his gaze back to her, that same smirk returning back to his lips, “It was nice meeting you, Stoney.”

“Nice meeting you too.”

She feels almost as if she’s dissociating. She doesn’t even have time to react as Sai comes up behind her, politely waving, “Bye-bye! I’m gonna play with my dolls in my new room!”

Toji watches as her daughter comes up from behind her. He waves back with a small chuckle. “Bye, pretty girl,” he says to Sai. 

However, his eyes linger on Stoney for a moment, still unable to tell exactly what it is that she’s thinking or feeling.

She’s then pulled back into focus as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out what seems to be a business card. He takes her hand as he puts it within her palm, Stoney’s head leaning up as he’s closer than he’d been to her before.

Her head lifts up as her eyes widen slightly at the sudden closeness to him, watching as he leans just a little bit closer to her. 

“If you ever need anything, I’m an instant call away,” he says in a low tone, his eyes looking down at her.

She pressed her lips together at that. Hearing his tone of voice, it’s still quite vague. But maybe it’s…something. 

She nods her head, “Yeah, sure. Thank you.” 

“Yo, Fushiguro! Let’s be out!” His partner calls from the truck, arm out the window as he pats the side of the vehicle, pressing the horn lightly for his attention.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” he calls back at his partner, but not before returning his attention back to Stoney, “Imma’ go. See you around.”

“Enjoy your um…cigarettes?” 

She tries to be polite, but she suddenly has the urge to cry. Why was she so sensitive? She’s not sure what about, but she really wants him to leave before she does so.

Toji can sense the way that her voice changes slightly, her tone and her words almost seeming like a subtle cue to tell him to leave and go now. He knows that there’s a change in the air, and something is…off. Either way, he doesn’t mention it. 

“Of course. I always do,” he chuckles, looking down at the cigarettes for a moment before looking back up at her, “Bye.”

She felt dramatic. Like a piece in that puzzle was missing. Like the ocean was filled with no water. To watch him walking away, catching sight of the broadness within his back was the last time she’d ever see it. She wasn’t sure if that’s what she wanted, but as she closed the door, she had to let it be. 

She then turned towards Sai, “Hungry, baby girl?”

                            °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧚

The next couple of days were better than she expected. She had used them as her own personal manic episode, getting no sleep as she made her new home an actual home. Green-leafed plants and flowers tracked all around the condo, dark rugs, paintings along the walls and art sculptures seated in different corners. 

She’d even created her space to work, an emerald rug along the floor with a couple of used t-shirts atop of it, above sitting the pottery wheel that was already dirty from a previous client's order. It was an apricot and pale blue mixture that created a Lillie flower, formed into an astray. Blank canvases also sat on easels in her station. She painted every once in a while if she really needed to express herself. 

She didn’t know how she ended up with a drawing that was a pair of gray eyes, staring over the picture until it meant something to her. Or maybe she was in denial—she knew exactly who they belonged to and what they represented. 

As the rest of the day passed by, she spoke to her sister about the smooth move she had, saying nothing as Serena complained to her about Nathaniel. She hung up the phone, wanting to cut that conversion short. 

It was now the evening, the sun still out but beginning to set soon. It was beaming outside. She helped her daughter water all the plants they’d begun to collect, making sure they got their nutrients for the day as they sat outside. When they finished with their project, she took Sai into the house as it was time for her bath, wanting to get her on a good sleeping schedule as she would begin school soon. She sat next to her against the tub as she played in the water, staring down at the picture she took of the canvas with the gray eyes. 

“Mommy? Did daddy say he was gonna bring me my pink orchids today?”

Stoney looks up at her, sighing at the question. She then says, “Of course, baby. Yeah. Um—He’ll bring them to you on your first day of school.”

Sai then cheers, “Yay!” clapping her hands, which causes Stoney to playfully clap with her, giggling to see her daughter so excited. Be damned if Nathaniel’s disappointments, she refused for her daughter to know of them. She was gonna make her happy whether he did his part or not— she’d get her a thousand pink orchids if she had to.

That happy moment quickly subsided. As she continued to sit with her daughter and stare at her phone, she could suddenly hear a noise that sounded unfamiliar to her. She frowns, sitting upward as she looks around, her body on high alert as it sounded like…hissing? 

When she turned her eyes towards where the sound was coming from—which belonged to the toilet— her eyes stretched in horror. 

The creature slithered its way out of the bowl, tracking its way out of the toilet as it had its eyes set on both Stoney and her daughter. 

She screamed as if it was a ten-pound rat, taking a towel as she snatched Sai from the tub, scurrying into her daughters bedroom as if that would protect them from the venomous beast.

Sai’s face instantly turns white as she sees the creature slither out of the bowl in the toilet, letting out an equally loud scream. Stoney’s eyes were wide with terror as she slammed the door behind her, now ducking in the corner of the pink room. 

Sai’s eyes widen as she looks up at her mother, tears forming in her eyes,  “M—Mommy,” she whimpers.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s fine—it’s just—fucking hell!” She curses, quickly drying her child as she tries to find her some clothes, “Let’s call daddy, okay? Wanna go look at our garden on the porch while we wait for him?”

Stoney’s body still shook with fear as she quickly dried her daughter off, trying not to let her see just how scared she herself really was. She tries to find some clothes for her, quickly dressing her as her heart rate skyrocketed. 

“Y-Yeah, let’s go to the porch and wait for daddy, alright?” she repeats again, trying to hide the terror in her voice. Sai nods her head, too scared to do or say anything else.

She was petrified of snakes. She’d always been, but she never had a reason to be this scared as she’d never seen one in person—at least not this close in vicinity. And now one was slithering around in her bathroom—in her home. Thinking on her feet, she placed the towel she’d dried Sai off with under the door, making sure it couldn’t escape anywhere else in the house.

 When she got her daughter dressed, she picked her up and took her outside, nearly wanting to vomit if she stayed in the house any second longer. Chills ran up her spine at a constant, just hearing the sound of it hissing in her ears. She paced back and forth as Sai sat in a chair on the porch, watering another plant of theirs with a doll in her hand, Stoney sighing as she waited for Nathaniel to answer the phone after her fourth time calling.

Stoney’s heart couldn’t stop racing, trying to hide her panic and her fear from her daughter. She felt sick to her stomach. 

“Please pick up…please pick up…” she whispered under her breath as the phone rang.

“Jesus, what is it?” Nathaniel finally picks up, answering in a sharp tone.

It’s almost as if her fear had ran away for a moment, being replaced with pure dread of this man’s tone. She ignores it as she tells him, “Nathan, I need you to come over. Like right now.”

“What, now? I’m right in the middle of a client, why do you need me so badly?” 

“I—there’s a fucking snake in Sai’s bathroom! And you know I am literally about to shit myself at the thought. Can you come get it, please?” She practically begs him.

When he hears her mention a snake being in their bathroom, he can’t help but scoff into the phone. This only worsens her frustrated and panicked state. 

“Seriously? It’s just a snake. Why do you always have to overreact to everything?” he says dismissively, clearly not taking her fears seriously.

“…I have literally been afraid of snakes since you met me, Nathan. Please don’t do this. Your daughter is also extremely afraid of them.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m aware. But is it really something I need to come over and take care of right this minute? I’m in the middle of a meeting,” he says, clearly more worried about his client than his child’s fears.

“Um, yes? Don’t you think your daughter’s safety is more important? We’re sitting outside and it’s hot as fuck, Nathan! Sai has school tomorrow and I want to get her to bed. Trust me when I say, you’re the last nigga I want to be calling right now.”

“Can’t you just capture it and let it loose outside?” 

“Capture it—you’ tryna’ be funny? Have you lost your mind? I’d rather the motherfucker pay rent and utilities before I go head to head with it!” She exclaims.

 She realizes that he’s no help. Taking a deep breath,  another resolution comes to her mind. It’s like a flash of her memories reflects the idea, the grey eyes within her picture blaring her thoughts. 

She then says, “You know what? I’ll figure it out. Bye.” 

He smacks his lips, “Bye.” 

As she hangs up the phone, she quickly runs into the house as she goes for her room, scattering around as she searches her dresser for something. When she finds it, she pulls the business card in front of her face, rolling her lips into her mouth as she quickly makes her way back outside, leaning against her front door with a sigh. 

She’s extremely hesitant as she dials the number. She knows it’s way past the business hours it says along the card. She feels terrible—but she also hopes he picks up. 

“Fuck,” she mutters, listening to the phone ring, “C’mon…”

The phone rang several times, each ring making her anxiety and panic grow more and more with each passing second. Her heart was racing, her hands were shaking, and she was feeling like she might actually go through with vomiting. 

“Hello?”

The familiar voice of Toji fills the other line, her whole body nearly about to go into shock as he picks up groggily. Oh god, had he been asleep? 

She wanted to jump for joy. She lets out the breath she’d been holding. Realizing that she probably sounds like a maniac breathing through the phone, she stutters, “T—Toji? Hi. Sorry. Shit. Fuck. Um—this is Stoney, do you…remember me?”

“Yeah. I remember you.” 

He can hear the panic and urgency in her tone, causing him to sit up straight, fully awake now, deep voice still lightly tired as he asks,  “What’s going on?” 

“I’m sorry. Oh my god, you were sleep. I’m so sorry. I mean it’s a little pass the sun setting, but—you probably been moving shit all day. Fuck. I’m so so sorry,” she sighs, “I’m a bad person. Fuck.”

Toji sighs into the phone, “Stop apologizing. I was just dozing off, don't worry about it,” he says, his voice still sluggish. He rubs his eyes, trying to wake himself up further, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I know it’s pass your business hours, but—t—there’s a snake in my daughters bathroom. My baby’s bathroom. And I have a really bad fear of snakes, and I literally am holding back my gagging as I’m talking about it. I—“ she presses her hand to her forehead, trying to fan herself with her free hand, “I tried to call my ex-husband and this bitch-ass-nig—ooh, lemme’ not get myself mad. He said he was too busy with a client. I’ll pay whatever you need, I just—please come catch this fucking snake before I actually have a mental breakdown.”

Toji can sense the sheer terror and panic in her voice as she explains the situation to him, and he can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her. She was right, he was tired from moving another house today. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to help. 

He sighs into the phone once again, rubbing his eyes, “I’m coming. Stay outside and don't go back in the house, okay?” he instructs her.

“Okay. Yeah. Of course, w—was gonna do that anyway. Please hurry, my baby has school tomorrow and she’s already sleepy, I can’t have her outside like this.”

“I’ll be there, Stoney.”

A grueling hour and a half passes, the sun setting yet it was still hot outside. Her attention peaks as she comes to see a sleek black Chevrolet Silverado 1500 pull in front of her yard. Heavy boots from days ago boomed along the ground as Toji steps out. 

He seems to be more comfortable today, the white compression shirt he wears clinging to his muscular frame, making the ink that hides within his chest and neck pop more against his olive skin and onyx hair. The black Nike cargos her wears don’t really match the shoes he wore, but she knew in the way she called, his attire didn’t seem to be his biggest concern.

 She couldn’t help but be reminded of how damn fine he was. She even felt slightly embarrassed as she stood in a hello-kitty oversized t shirt—her daughters favorite character—her hair claw clipped out of her face, square glasses along her face. 

As Toji makes his way to the porch, he can't help but notice how naturally pretty she looks, even in her oversized t-shirt and hair claw. He smirks to himself, feeling almost a little guilty for thinking of how attractive she is in this situation.

He stops a few steps away from her, seeing the fear and anxiety still etched on her face. He asks, "You holding up alright?" his voice a bit softer now.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Uh—sorry that I’m literally half naked right now. Should’ve grabbed some pants or something,” she apologizes, pulling her hair behind her ear reflexively before she pulls her hair out of the entire clip, letting it fall and trying to tame it down with her long acrylic nails. The shirt was big enough to cover her lower body, but he could still see the shape of her hips, her ass wanting to poke beneath the fabric. 

Sai sits up along her chair, leaning on the bar of the porch as she sees the familiar man. She greets with a gasp, “It’s you!”

“Wassup’, little one. You remember me, huh?” he asks, his voice still gentle.

Sai nods, “Are you coming to kill the bad evil snake in our house?” She tilts her head, “I don’t want him to eat my teddy bears. Or my hello-kitty. I’ll be really sad.”

Toji chuckles at her answer, finding her worry over her stuffed animals endearing. "Don't worry. I won't let the snake eat your stuffed animals," he reassured her.

He looks back at Stoney, raising an eyebrow at her. "How big is this snake anyway?" 

“Big as fuck. Literally big as the fucking-fuck,” her voice goes back into panic, “I know I’m dramatic, but that hoe was large. Not even normal enough to be in someone’s fucking drain. Probably was poisonous. What if I was on the toilet? I would’ve literally died from a snake bite in my ass,” she pressed her hands to her chest, leaning against the porch frame at the thought, “I’m about to rip my fuckin’ sew-in out.”

He squints, “I don’t think you can rip that out, don’t you have to cut it?”

She narrows her eyes at him. She then squints, “How you’ know that? Why do you know that?” 

He shrugs as she then shakes her head, “Nevermind. We’re wasting time when that snake is having a fuckin’ kickback in my bathroom.”

"Don't worry, I won't let the snake bite your ass,” he says, his tone a bit more playful now.

She turns to him, “Are you laughing? This shit funny? If I wanted someone to make fun of me I would’ve called my ex-husband! I’m literally about to cry,” she shakes her head, feeling tears forming at his amusement. She knows she’s dramatic, but she’s scared.

Toji sighs, realizing that she's not appreciating his attempts to lighten the mood. He takes a deep breath and steps closer to her, taking her hands into his.

"Cut that shit out, I'm not trying to make fun of you. I'm sorry," he says sincerely, looking into her eyes. "I understand you're scared, and I'm not here to laugh at you. I'm here to help."

She nods her head, sniffling, “Okay. Okay,” squeezing her palms together within his hands as she takes a deep breath.

"Good. Just keep taking deep breaths, alright? I'm gonna go in there and get rid of the snake, and then everything will be fine. Just stay right here with Sai, okay?"

She nods her head, watching as he enters the house. She then calls, “Please don’t die! I don’t have insurance on this place yet!”

"I'll make sure to tell the snake about your insurance policy!" 

A weak laugh pulls from her at that, and she somewhat felt relieved. It feels like time drags by as she waits for him. Once almost thirty minutes passes, she takes a sleepy Sai back into the house as she allows her to lay on the sofa. 

She hesitantly makes her way towards the bathroom as she calls, “Toji?” Slowly peeping her head into the door.

As Stoney peeks her head into the bathroom, she finds Toji standing there, looking completely unfazed by the snake that was coiled up in the bathtub. He's leaning against the counter, examining the snake with a mix of curiosity and nonchalance.

He looks over at her as she calls his name, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?" he responds, his voice relaxed.

She stares in between the snake and him, “Oh hell, not the bitch taking a bath!” She exasperates, “Uh—y’all having a conversation or something ? You’re not gonna kill it?”

"Nah, just getting to know each other," he says, an amusement in his tone. 

He pushes himself off the counter, walking towards the snake and going to pick it up as he says, “It’s a garter snake—practically harmless. Can’t do shit to me or you.”

Just when he says that, the snake pounces forward, wrapping it’s mouth along his arm where his tattoo sat. Stoney squeaked, throwing her hands over her mouth as she backed up again. 

“Oh my god!” She panicked, “Are you okay? Are you gonna die?!” 

Toji shakes his head. He’s completely unfazed as he picks it up with ease, holding it in his hands as if it were a piece of rope before he replies, “He’s just a little pissed off. It’s not venomous.” 

The snake wraps itself around his bicep, almost becoming comfortable against his forearm. He brings himself closer to Stoney as he shows her, “See? He’s good now.”

She covers her eyes, “That’s not the thing I saw earlier! He turned into a baby snake so he could make me feel stupid!” She shrieks through her hands, covering her now red face.

"This is the only snake I see here. You sure you're not just seeing things?" 

She pulls her hands down slowly, looking at the small creature. Instead of it being the rattle snake she saw within her mind, it had beady eyes, no thoughts within its brain. It might not have even had full on teeth. 

She looks at it again, “A garter snake?”

"Nothing dangerous, I promise," he reassures her, gently stroking the snake's head with his finger.

“It wouldn’t have bit me in my butt?” She questions.

"No, it wouldn't have bitten you in your ass,” he chuckles, “Garter snakes don't bite unless they feel threatened, he tried to escape earlier when he saw me, so he was a little irritated. Wanna see—“

“Aht—okay, that’s too much. Harmless, I can believe. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she shakes her head, backing up against the wall within the hallway. 

“You were acting like his ass was a damn python.”

“Fushiguro, take you and your cousin outside before I become the scariest thing in this bathroom.” 

“Who knew me and your ex-husband were related?”

She gives him a blank stare, “You’ think you’re funny?”

“A little,” he mutters, going past her out of the bathroom as he coos, “C’mon, Nathaniel. Outside where you belong…”

She rolls her eyes as she mutters, “My hero.” 

Sai was on the sofa dozing off, eyes becoming wide as she watched Toji walk past her.  She sits halfway up from the seat, as she expresses shockingly, “Woahhh! Mommy—a snake!” 

“A demon!” Stoney corrects, coming around the corner, “He’s going back outside with his family. Say bye to Toji’s friend.”

“Bye Toji’s friend!” Sai waves.

“Thought Sai was afraid of snakes? Or were you just using that as a coverup for your fear?” He teases, waving at her as he walks outside towards the trees. 

She warns, “Hey, not too much on me and my fears.”

When he released it outside, she leaned against the porch door, her eyes watching his muscular figure and broad back flex as he stood back up. 

She then sighs, “Thank you, Toji. Seriously. I thought I was gonna die. How much do I owe you?”

"Don't worry about that," he says, waving his hand dismissively, "I’m good on the money. Got more than enough.”

She crosses her arms, “Well my bad, pimp, since you got it like that. You’ sure though?  Maybe I can get you another pack of cigarettes or something? Although in these last couple of days, I hoped you’d kicked your bad habit.”

"Unfortunately I’m still an addict, maybe I’ll sleep it off.”

She rubs her arms, laughing awkwardly at his response. She then apologizes, “Um…well thank you again, you’re a sweetheart. I’m really sorry I woke you up.”

“What did I tell you about that constant apologizing shit? You’re fine, Stoney.” 

She blinks for a moment, watching as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket, searching for his lighter in the other. His voice could be rough, but he was the complete opposite. 

“Boy, hush. Anyways—was traffic bad or something? I was worried something happened to you, it almost took you two hours to get here.”

If only she knew that Toji nearly lived an hour and a half outside of town, she wouldn’t have called him. 

Toji hesitates for a moment, not wanting to reveal how far it actually took him to get there. But he figures there's no point in lying to her now.

"Nah, traffic was fine," he says, scratching the back of his neck. "I just live kinda far, that's all. Almost an hour and a half from here."

“What?!” She panics, “Toji, what the hell? I wouldn’t have asked you to come? I would’ve called the fire department—or Jesus himself, they would’ve been easier to get than you! Fuckin’ hell, I’m so sorry.”

“Stoney.” 

“It’s literally late as hell for you to be driving…”

She thinks on what she’s about to say, wondering if this was crazy for her to ask. She figured, fuck it. 

“How about you’ stay here tonight? I can order whatever you like, you can rest up for tomorrow, I have no projects for tonight so—you can sleep peacefully, I promise me and Sai are quiet.”

Toji raises an eyebrow at her suggestion, surprised by her offer. "Stay here for the night, huh?" he says, mulling it over in his mind.

He couldn't deny that the thought of a comfortable bed and a quiet night to sleep sounded appealing. 

"I mean, if it's really no trouble," he says, a smirk on his face. "I won't say no to a free meal and a comfy bed."

“Thank god, I thought I was gonna have to kidnap you. Well, c’mon then, snake whisperer.” 

She turns away from him, the natural sway in her hips returning as her slender eyes blink back at him in a way that looked more sensual than he expected. 

Her voice goes soft as she then asks, “You’ coming?”

As Toji watches her walk away, his eyes drift down, taking in the alluring sway of her body. He shakes off the thoughts as he forces his eyes back up to her face.

"Yeah, I'm coming," he replies, his voice slightly huskier than usual.

She ends up putting Sai to bed as she notices her dozing off along the sofa. As she walks up the stairs, Sai gives a soft, “Bye snake-man,” to Toji, a tired wave coming from her tiny hand.

Toji can't help but smile at the sound of Sai's sleepy voice. "Bye," he says, waving back at her.

She clasped her hands together as she came back down the stairs, noticing as Toji was now looking around her living room, an eye now on the painting she’d created. The gray eyes. Shit. 

She tries to distract him as she asks, “Uh—anything you feel like eating in particular?”

Toji nods as he looks at the painting on the easel, his gaze lingering on the gray eyes painted along the canvas. He can't help but feel a strange sense of familiarity, but he shakes the feeling off as he looks away.

"I'm not picky, I'll eat whatever.”

She sighs, “You’re such a simple man. You must get that from your father,” she tells him, going into the kitchen as she exhales, “How about pizza? It’s simple, I know. But I’ve been doing projects for the past couple of days with moving so— I’m all out of energy to cook, otherwise you would’ve gotten a four course meal.”

"Pizza sounds good," he says, a small smile on his face. "And trust me, I'm not complaining, I think I’ll survive without the four course meal."

“Great,” she agrees, going into her phone as she begins ordering online. She then brings her eyes back to him as she then asks, “Hm…how about, some wine? My sister was in love with this bottle, maybe you’ll like it too?”

“I trust your sisters opinions, shit is probably good.”

“Oh? I thought you said she was too much at one point?” She raises an eyebrow, pulling out a wine glass and a regular glass cup.

"She is. That doesn’t make her less intelligent," he adds, a hint of a challenge in his voice, "I trust you too, you know. I trust that you wouldn’t give me a shitty glass of wine."

“You trust me? How do you know I’m not a succubus trying to suck your lifeline?” She questions, not directly looking at him. For the time they’d known each other, he hadn’t directly flirted with her. She was trying to test the waters, seeing if he’d take the bait.

At her comment about being a succubus, Toji lets out a hearty laugh. He smirks at her question, his eyes watching her intently. He leans forward a bit, his muscles flexing under his t-shirt.

"I think I’ll be fine,” he replies, voice smooth.

Hearing that almost was like a slap in the face. Maybe she was just bad at flirting. This man didn’t seem the least bit interested in her, why did she keep trying?

She pours his glass within the cup as she hands it to him politely, sighing at her failed attempts at flirting as she says, “Tell me how it tastes.”

As he takes the cup of wine from her, he can’t help but notice the shift in her demeanor. She suddenly seemed deflated, her shoulders slumping slightly. He then takes a small sip of the wine, swishing it around in his mouth for a moment before swallowing.

"Hm. It’s not bad," he says, his voice nonchalant. "It’s smooth and fruity, with a bit of a kick. I’d give it a seven out of ten.”

“Seven? I spent thirty dollars on that bottle! Better make that shit an eight!” She exclaims. She shakes her head, “I can’t take your opinion anyways, you like snakes!”

Toji laughs at her excalamarion,  "What, a seven isn’t good enough for your ass? I thought I was being generous," he teases. "Just cause I like snakes doesn’t mean I have a bad taste in wine. I’ll lie and give it a nine out of ten. Just for you.”

“Thank you,” she flips her hair, “I use to do wine tasting with my ex-husband all the time. Well— I’d be there and he’d just kinda sulk the entire time. A bit depressing now that I’m explaining,” she laughs awkwardly, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get all…sad.”

“You’re good, he seems like a pain in the ass.”

She nods her head, jewelry blaring under the light as she moves her hair from her face, “Pain in the ass is an understatement for sure.” 

As she takes a sip of her wine, she begins to notice the eyes that fall upon her. Her skin feels warm, turning towards him as she akwardly laughs, “What?”

He smirks at her question, his gaze unwavering. "What?" he echoes, his voice deep. "I'm just looking at you."

She nods, a small roll to her eyes as a knock comes to the door. She then says, “Probably the pizza,” stepping off of the table as she goes to pay the delivery person.

Just as she attempts to do so, she feels a body come behind her, the warmth of him nearly sending her body into a shock, a large arm reaching out as he hands the man whatever the amount was owed. 

She can’t protest before the door closes in her face, “Hey! I was supposed to pay,” her back against the door as he shuts it behind her, arm next to her head as the other holds the pizza box in his hands.

Toji chuckles at her protest, enjoying the way she pouts a bit like a child being told she can’t have a cookie before dinner. He stands close enough to her that she can feel the heat radiating off his body, his arm resting against the door just above her head. He looks down at her, a sly smirk on his face. 

"I’m the man, momma. I was supposed to pay regardless.” 

Her head is forced to tilt up at him a bit, the heat of his body catching her off guard. She could admit to herself it had been a while that she had been this close to a man—or even interested in one. It made her feel…virginal. 

She stepped away from the door as she says, “Well— thank you. I’m grabbing ranch! That’s the only way you eat pizza!”

She turns something on the tv for background noise as they become comfortable on the sofa, Stoney silently eating a slice of pizza as she notices how small he makes her couch look from him sitting on it. As she does that, a call goes off on her phone, seeing as it’s her ex-husbands contact. She ignores it, placing her phone back on her coffee table, sighing as she looks back to the tv.

He sees her face, raising his eyebrow as if he already knows who called. She rolls her eyes, “Guess he must’ve felt shitty after telling me I was being dramatic—granted, I was— but I’d rather you call me dramatic than your daughter.”

"Dramatic or not, you shouldn't have to deal with his bullshit," he says, his tone serious.

“It’s nothing new,” she shrugs, “It’s one of the more important reasons why we aren’t together. He told me I was dramatic about everything. Including when he told me to drop my business in order to focus on my pregnancy.” 

She doesn’t know why she goes as far as to say that, shaking her head as she apologizes again, “Sorry.”

He frowns, “He didn’t want you to have your business ‘cause you were pregnant? That’s stupid as fuck.”

She exhales, nodding her head as she continues, “Yeah, um—we got together when I was about twenty. I got pregnant with Sai when I was twenty-two, and we decided it’d just be easier to get married. But marriage…it makes you truly learn a person for who they really are. He wanted me to be this—traditional house wife. Cook, clean, shut up, give pussy on command—have all his babies and take care of them while he worked. I didn’t want that, I wanted to make something of myself, I had a life before him…or Sai. She’s my world, but that wasn’t gonna stop me from accomplishing my goals. I love my art. My little dumb ceramics, they make people happy. I just wanted to do that and have someone’s support…especially from the man that was supposed to be my protector.”

"That's bullshit," he says eventually, his voice low. "You shouldn’t have had to give up your art and passion to fit into some dumbass idea of what a wife should be."

She shrugs, “That’s what he wanted. Five years and I truly feel like that man knew nothing about me. It feels like I’ve wasted so much time. The only thing I don’t regret is Sai. She’s my everything,” she honestly admits, “And here I am now, I’ll be thirty in a couple of years, already a divorcè, and not as attractive as I use to be,” she chuckles, “I feel stupid.”

He frowns, “‘The fuck are you talking about? You don’t think you’re attractive?” 

She goes quiet. Her eyes come up to his, “I don’t mean to get all self-deprecating, I’m just…being honest.”

Toji shakes his head, his eyes still fixed on hers. "Being honest is fine, but saying some shit like that was stupid. You’re sexy as fuck, Stoney.“

His tone is firm, but there's a hint of something else there too—a note of sincerity that surprises her.

She places her legs under herself, a warmth coming to her face as she laughs weakly, “You’re just being nice cause I’m giving you my sob story.”

Toji scoffs, shaking his head as he looks at her. "I’m not the type of guy to say shit just to be nice."

He meets her gaze, unflinching and unashamed, as if daring her to question his words.

She presses her lips in a thin line, taking in his words. All of the insecurities she felt was caused by a man that didn’t love her the way she deserved to be loved—maybe she was just now realizing that. 

She gives him another weak smile as she softly says, “…Thank you.” 

In that moment, Toji stood up, remembering something. In the midst of chaos with the snake, he’d forgotten why it had also taken him so long to get here.

 Stoney asks, “You okay?” As he raises himself from the sofa. 

She watches as he nods before he says, “I forgot to grab some shit from my car,” before making his way outside hastily. 

Stoney sits up, a look of concern on her face. Did she say the wrong thing ? Was he leaving? Did she scare him off? 

“…Toji?” 

Another couple of minutes had gone by. Why was her heart beating so fast? 

But when he entered back into the house, her face and heart dropped. In his hand was what looked to be a vase full of salmon pink orchids, her ears ringing at the sight. She didn’t know that he’d heard the conversation between her and her ex-husband, practically begging him to get the one thing her daughter asked him for.

He approaches her, stopping in front of the couch and places the vase on the coffee table. The flowers look vibrant and beautiful, standing out against the dark counter.

He scratched the back of his neck as he awkwardly chuckled, "I uh…just thought you could use these."

The look on her face is unreadable. She wasn’t sure how to feel, her trust issues in fear of being hurt by anyone ever again. She didn’t know his intentions, but this didn’t feel bad at all. She takes the flowers, an almost sad smile coming to her face, her sensitivity giving her the urge to cry once more. 

She says softly, “…Thank you.”

Toji can see the vulnerability in her expression, the way her trust issues make her hesitate to accept his gift. He understands it—he has his own set of trust issues after all.

He doesn’t try to decipher what she’s feeling, instead, he just watches her take the flowers from him. He sees the sadness in her smile, and he feels a strange urge to wrap her in his arms and protect her.

"It’s no big deal," he says quietly. "Thought you could use some pretty flowers."

There it is, the urge to actually cry. All of her feelings and emotions, she’d been holding in, allowing people to step all over her, keeping quiet. They wanted to break in that second. She also had the urge to kiss him. To do more with him, but she didn��t know if he wanted to same. 

She quickly stands from the sofa as she rubs her eyes, laughing softly and turning her face away from him as she asks, “Um—I’m assuming you need to shower?” 

She could feel his eyes on her. It was worry, concern, but it was also…something else. She hadn’t had a man look at her like this in years, the urge to grab her and have his way with her. It intimidated her.

Toji watches as she stands up abruptly, her laughter coming out slightly forced. He can see the emotions in her eyes, the way her body language betrays her, and he can't help but feel a pang of empathy for her.

He watches her turn away from him, her question lingering in the air. He knows what she's asking, what she's hinting at. He can feel her tension, her hesitance. 

"Yeah," he responds, his voice low. "I could use a shower."

“You can use my bathroom, it has a standup shower. I made it all pretty with plants around the shelves within it, the water comes down from the ceiling, but no to a point where you drown—shit, am I rambling? Uh—okay. Let me just get you some towels.” 

She makes her way down the hallway to her room, feeling him following behind her. It was like a tug of her body,  a sudden pull she had for him. She wasn’t sure where it’d come from—her body felt hot. Maybe it was the wine. 

She sees him sit along the bed as she grabs a towel for him within the closet, calling to him, “Uh—any specific color of towel? I don’t know why I have so many…”

She knows she’s asking questions to distract herself from the moment, but why does she feel so shy?

Toji sits on the bed, watching as she rummages through her closet for a towel. He can sense her nervousness, the way she keeps talking to fill the silence. He suppresses a grin, finding it oddly adorable that she’s asking something so trivial. 

He responds casually, “No preference, any color is fine.”

“I feel like you’re a gray kinda guy,” she says, and she halts herself, hoping that it wasn’t any indication of that damn painting she made. 

She brushes it off, coming back out of the closet as she says, “Well, I got you a body towel and then a bathing towel. Hope you don’t mind smelling like vanilla and coffee, that’s the soaps I have. You’ll smell good though,” she rambles, placing the towels in front of his hands.

As she brings out the towels, he takes them from her, feeling the soft fabric against his fingers. He can smell the scent of vanilla and coffee wafting from her body suddenly, like a drug had induced his system out of nowhere. 

"Thanks.”

She stands with her hands pressed together, his eyes now boring into hers. Those damn gray eyes seep into her soul, scanning her every move. 

 She then pulls back from him, “Well—there you go. If you need help with the shower handles just—let me know.” 

It’s as if time was passing by slowly. His eyes were melting into her brain, disintegrating her body with just one look. 

He extends up to his full height, her head tilting once again to look at him, so much that it makes her step back. He walked around her, pulling his eyes forward as he stalked towards the bathroom. 

In one swift sound against her ear, he asks, “You’ coming?” 

She blinks. Maybe she hadn’t heard him correctly. She turns around as he continues walking with no look behind him, as if he wasn’t necessarily asking—He was telling her. 

“Huh?” 

"I said, are you coming?" he repeats, his voice low and sultry. Again, it’s not a question. It’s more like a command, a demand. His eyes lock into hers, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

The shock is evident on her face, her mind racing to catch up to what he’s just asked. Toji stands at the threshold of the bathroom, watching her processing his question. His eyes roam over her figure, taking in the way her body responds to his words. He can sense her hesitation, but he can also see the desire in her eyes.

"You heard me the first time.”

“You want me to… shower…with you?” She questions, almost confused, as if she needed to hear it again. 

Toji doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks at her with a neutral expression. It’s like he’s studying her, trying to deduce her thoughts and reactions. 

When he speaks, his voice is low and almost mocking. “To shower with me,” he repeats, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

It was like a shift in his entire demeanor. Her eyes follow him as he fully walks into the bathroom, at the same time commanding, “Hurry up,” back muscles flexing as he removes his shirt, her eyes scanning the amount of ink plastered along his back before he disappears behind the door. 

Her feet wouldn’t push herself into walking. But as her mouth fell agape at the thought of showering with him, it pushed her to follow in after him. The lights were dim within her bathroom, plants all around her sink and side of the shower wall. It was big enough to fit her, but she wasn’t sure if it’d fit the both of them. Maybe that was the point. 

His body is turned the opposite way of her as he undresses, Stoney watching in almost awe, his body sculpted in a way that was terrifying. He doesn’t bother to turn around as he continues to undress, but he can hear the slight hitch in her breath as he reveals more and more of his bare skin.

Without thinking too much, she begins removing the shirt she wears and the underwear beneath them, throwing it to the side, hair now falling around her face and body. 

She watches as he steps into the shower, a broad frame going under the hot water that scorches his skin. He glares over to her, turning slightly to the side so that she catches a glimpse between his legs. It’s veiny, sinking down as it can’t hold its own weight, a dark pink flushed along the tip. His tatted arm takes the hand towel as he rubs it along himself, cleaning the dirt from earlier within the day. The sight nearly makes her faint. 

She feels like she does all of this with her eyes closed. She opens the door, Toji taking a step back as he wants her in front of him. The water drenches her hair, making the midnight black even darker as it flows down her waist. 

She pushes it out of her face, closing her eyes as she takes a deep breath, feeling him behind her. As she inhales, his hand lightly comes along the side of her hip, pulling her back towards him as his neck hangs down to reach her, brushing his mouth along her neck. 

"What are you doing?" Stoney whispers, her voice barely audible above the sound of the running water. Despite her words, she makes no move to pull away from him, instead leaning back into his touch.

Toji's lips curve into a smirk against her neck. "Isn't it obvious?" he murmurs, his hand sliding from her hip to rest possessively on her stomach. "I'm enjoying the view."

Stoney shivers as his lips trail along her neck, her pulse jumping beneath his touch. She can feel every hard inch of him pressing against her back, igniting a fire low in her belly. "But... we shouldn't..." she protests weakly, even as her body betrays her, arching into him.

"Why not?" Toji chuckles, nipping at her earlobe.

“It’s just…been a while …” she admits softly, jumping lightly again as his fingers slowly trickle down to her thigh. Her head falls up as she leans against him, beginning to breathe in a more shallow manner.

"A while since what? Since someone touched you like this?" 

Toji's voice is a low rumble in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. His hand slides further down her thigh, teasingly close to where she needs him most.

Stoney bites her lip, nodding jerkily. It has been a long time since she's felt desired, wanted. And the way Toji is touching her, like he wants to devour her whole... It's intoxicating.

“I…haven’t even touched myself,” she embarrassingly reveals.

If only she were lying. She hadn’t relieved her own stress nor had someone do it for her in months, she felt entirely backed up. She could all tell in the way his fingers trailed closer within her inner thigh, his free hand locking around her throat, causing her chest to heave up and down—he’s barely done anything to her.

Toji's grip on her throat tightens ever so slightly, a silent reminder of his dominance. His other hand inches higher on her thigh until his fingertips brush against the damp heat of her core.

Stoney gasps, her knees buckling as a jolt of pleasure shoots through her. "Oh god," she whimpers, her hips instinctively rolling back against him. She can feel his hardness pressing insistently against her ass, making her ache to be filled.

Toji's lips find the shell of her ear once more, his voice a husky whisper. "Tell me how bad you need it, Stoney."

“I need it—so bad,” she tells him softly, bringing her own fingers to where his hand was between her legs. The moment she does this, he catches her hand within his, pressing it under his own as he guides her fingers to the sensitive bud of her clit, gently brushing over it teasingly. Her hips arch towards him as she digs her teeth into her lip, desperately hiding another whimper.

With her hand trapped under his, Toji applies gentle pressure, circling her clit with deliberate slowness. "That's it, touch yourself for me," he encourages, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

Stoney's breathing grows ragged as she starts rubbing herself in earnest, her hips grinding against his palm. "Please, Toji," she begs, her voice trembling with need. 

“‘Fuck are you saying please for? Don’t beg me, show me what you want.”

His voice makes a deep whimper release from her as he guides her fingers to rub her clit with more pressure, her hips beginning to tremble as both her fingers and his rub in circles, making her arousal grow within her core.

"There's my good girl…" Toji praises, his hot breath fanning over her neck as he watches her work herself closer to the edge. 

Her body twitches each time she hits a certain pressure point on her clit, stopping herself from that release when it feels too much. His other hand is still along her throat as he tells against her ear, “Stop all that moving and shit. Let it feel good.”

Stoney's moans fill the steamy bathroom, echoing off the tiles. She's lost in a haze of pleasure, completely under Toji's control.

Her eyes roll to the back of her head when she feels his fingers drop lower, two finger sliding against her core before slowly sinking into her as he talks to her, “Need your pussy gripping my fingers,” her shallow breath making a soft cry at that, hips trembling wildly in reaction as he tsks against her ear, shaking his head as he demands, “Keep your fingers on your clit. I didn’t tell you to stop.” 

“T—Toji…”

 She whines, trying to rub her clit, unable to focus as his fingers sink in and out of her, his lips along her throat all too much. His voice against her ear as she shakes her head, teeth digging back into her lip.

"Shh, relax," Toji coos, his fingers curling inside her as he strokes her inner walls. "Let me take care of you."

She’d never felt this pleasurable in a while, only able to react in spasms. He nips at her earlobe, soothing the sting with his tongue before whispering, "You're so tight, baby. I love feeling you clench around my fingers." His thumb presses against her clit, applying firm pressure in sync with the thrusts of his digits.

Toji brings his face around, capturing her mouth in a deep, claiming kiss. His tongue delves past her lips, tangling with hers as he explores the wet heat of her mouth. He breaks the kiss only to trail open-mouthed kisses down her jaw and neck, leaving a path of fire in his wake.

"You look so fuckin’ good.”

Her four fingers now desperately rub her clit, Toji slowing his own movements as he just…watches her. Her chest heaves up and down as she pants, a pout nearly along her face as she cries softly to herself, “I—I’m so close…”

Toji smirks, his gaze fixed on her desperate fingers working her clit. "That's it, baby. Get yourself there."

He resumes his slow, deliberate thrusts, curling his fingers to hit that sensitive spot inside her. His thumb applies steady pressure to her clit, rubbing in small circles.

"Come on, let go," he urges, his voice a low rumble. "I want to feel you fall apart."

Stoney’s walls start to flutter around his fingers, signaling her impending climax. The hand against her throat comes up lightly as he grips her face, giving her a light tap to catch her attention. 

Toji leans in, his breath washing over her ear as he whispers, "Quit all that fuckin’ whining, make yourself cum.”

Stoney’s eyes squeeze together as she leans her head back against him, his free fingers finding a way into her mouth as he shoves them against her tongue. She can feel her abdomen tightening as she helplessly whines in response.

She tries to hide the soft drag of, “Fuckk,” beneath her mouth, her exhale causing her release. Her body goes into shock as she pushes out her arousal in a way she didn’t expect, squirting along his fingers.

Toji groans as he feels her squirt around his fingers, her warm essence coating his hand. "Fuck— yeah, that's it," he growls, continuing to pump his fingers through her pulsing walls.

He grabs her throat once again to hold her in place. Taking her hand that was along her clit, he slides it against her drenched core before he brings them up to his own mouth, sucking her arousal off of her fingers. 

Stoney slumps against him, boneless and spent as he praises, "You did so fuckin’ good, baby. Pussy tastes like I need to eat it.”

Trying to regain her composure from her orgasm, she shakes her head with her eyes closed as she whimpers, “I can’t wait…I—want you to fuck me, please.”

Asking nicely didn’t always get you what you wanted.  He turns her around to face him, pressing her against the wall as he lifts her legs to where her knees are along the shower's marble. He’s already kissing along her neck, attaching his lips down to her nipples as he wraps his mouth along them, roughly circling his head as he sucks the skin within his mouth.

He continues to suck on her nipples, biting and nipping at the sensitive buds until they're hard and throbbing. Releasing one from his mouth, he trails kisses down her stomach, dipping his tongue into her belly button before making his way lower.

"To beg for my dick... You must really want it," he murmurs against her skin, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. He spreads her thighs wider, exposing her glistening pussy to the cool air of the shower.

Leaning in, he drags his tongue up her slit, lapping at her juices before focusing on her clit. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive nub, flicking it rapidly as he hears her moan above him. 

"I don’t give a fuck about what you want. Gonna make you squirt on my face.”

She nearly rolls her eyes, gripping for his hair as she desperately moans, back arching against the wall as she feels almost helpless.

Toji growls lowly, his grip tightening on her hips as he devours her with renewed hunger. He buries his face between her thighs, his tongue plunging deep inside her as he fucks her with it. The lewd sounds of his eating fill the shower, mixing with her desperate moans.

"Mmmph... you taste like fuckin’ heaven, baby" he mumbles against her flesh, his breath causing her to tremble. He doubles his efforts, sucking her clit as he then dips his tongue back inside of her. 

He curls his tongue just right, rubbing that spot inside her that makes her see stars. "C’mon, c’mon,” he begs her, “C’mon, baby. Soak my fuckin’ face."

She grips his hair tightly as she brokenly moans, “Baby—oh fuck. Agh, fuck. I’m gonna—“ she gasps, unable to use her words as she feels tears nearly within her eyes, “Gonna squirt baby,” she gasps, “I—I’m gonna cum again.”

Toji's eyes flash up to meet hers, seeing the desperation and impending climax written all over her face. He smirks, knowing he's the cause of her unraveling.

 "That's it, baby. Cum on my tongue."

He doubles his efforts again, slurping and sucking at her clit as he thrusts his tongue deeper inside her. The vibrations from his groan against her sends her hurtling over the edge. Her body seizes, back arching as a torrent of liquid gushes from her core, drenching Toji's face and mouth.

He laps it all up greedily, drinking down her essence as he continues to eat through her orgasm. When she finally starts to come down, he pulls back, licking his lips with a satisfied grin. "Fuck—yeah, momma. That was good. So fuckin’ good.”

Her eyes are faltering closed as she’s still softly moaning as he comes up, putting her legs over his shoulders as she’s still slightly leaned against the wall. 

She puts her arm around the back of his neck as he lightly pressed his lips to hers, breathing along her mouth as he tells her, “I’m gonna put it in, that’s what you want, yeah? Tell me.” 

She states quietly against his mouth, “Put it in…slowly, please.”

Toji nods. He positions himself at her entrance, the thick head of his dick pressing against her slick folds. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushes inside her, inch by delicious inch.

Her mouth lightly parts open, silence going between them now. She nearly pulls back from his lips as her eyes reflexively roll to the back of her head. 

She mouths so quietly, “Oh..my god,” unable to focus as he talks to her softly, “Slow like that, baby? Imma’ go deeper.” 

Stoney’s walls stretch to accommodate his size, a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort flashing across her features. Toji pauses when he's halfway in, giving her time to adjust. He leans in to capture her lips in a deep, sensual kiss, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

Breaking the kiss, he gazes into her eyes, searching for any sign of distress. She’s spent, head spinning as she deeply whimpers. He resumes his gentle thrust, pushing the rest of the way into her warmth until he's fully sheathed. He stays still for a moment, savoring the incredible feel of being buried inside her.

She tries to hold it in, but the long moan that comes from the depths of her soul releases against his mouth in a way that feels embarrassing. She grabs his hair, her eyes fully rolled to the back of her head as Toji grunts, “Damn.”

Toji lets out a low groan as he starts to rock his hips slowly, grinding deep into her tight heat. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure through his body, and he can tell from her reactions that she's feeling it too.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he growls against her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. "Your pussy is gripping my dick like she needed this shit."

He picks up the pace gradually, sliding in and out of her with increasing intensity. The sounds of their flesh slapping together fill the steamy air, mingling with their heavy breaths and soft moans.

Toji grabs onto her thighs, spreading her wider as he pounds a little harder. He can feel her nails digging into his shoulders, urging him on. Yet at the same time, she’s almost pulling her hips back, nearly blacking out from how big he is. 

He shakes his head, “Don’t do that. Take this shit,” he grunts, Stoney whining in response, wrapping her arms around his neck as she sucks his lips into her mouth, attempting to relax.

She leans her head against his shoulder as she digs her teeth into it, being stretched in an almost delicious pain. Her moans drop out her mouth before she even gives them permission. 

Toji groans deeply as he feels her teeth sinking into his shoulder, the sharp sting only adding to the intense pleasure coursing through his veins. He loves the way she clings to him, desperate and needy.

"That's it, baby," he coaxes, his voice a low rumble. "Take every fucking inch." He punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust that makes her cry out, burying himself to the hilt inside her.

Toji captures her lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing her moans greedily. His tongue delves into her mouth, tangling with hers in a sensual dance. 

“He ever fuck you like this?”

She blinks, knowing he’s referring to her ex-husband. The thought almost makes her annoyed, an arrogant side to him that she hadn’t felt before. The question burned an arousal to her at the same time.

 She whispers, “Toji, stop it.” 

He then pulls her forward as he takes her weight off of the wall, making sure he has a good standing position against the tile floor before he properly fixes her legs over his shoulders, holding her by her lower back. 

He's suddenly lifting her up, dropping her down onto his dick in a way that makes Stoney gasp, the sound of her core clapping against his abdomen, she’s trembling out a deep moan, her eyes faltering down as she watches him do this.

Toji smirks at her reaction, pleased that she's clearly affected by his dominant display. He holds her steady as he pounds into her, each thrust sending her body jolting against his.

"Bet he can’t have you cumming all on his dick like mine, can he? Look at me.” 

He grips her tightly, using the leverage to drill deeper, faster. The sound of their flesh slapping together fills the steamy air, mingling with Stoney’s wanton moans.

Her eyes roll to the back of her head again as she tries to watch him, sheepishly whimpering out to him, “Ughhh, yeah. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckk.”

Toji leans in, his breath fanning across her neck as he nips and sucks at her sensitive skin as he talks, “See that? Thats how he should’ve been fuckin’ you. Making you take—Every. Fuckin’. Inch,” through each deep thrust he gives her, seeing the pleasurable tears that collect in her eyes, seeing as she throws her hand over her mouth to stop the embarrassing moans that plummet from her mouth.

"This pussy is mine now, huh?”

Her nails dig into his upper back, back of her thighs wet from her own arousal, latching onto his abdomen each time their skin harshly makes contact, bouncing her against him. 

Her eyes are dazed. She feels like she’s losing her mind as she talks back to him, “Yeahhh, baby. Fuckin’ yours,” she whimpers.

“Yeah?”

“Yeahhhh.”

“All mine?”

“Promise.”

“You sure?”

“Fuckin’ promise, baby. You’re fuckin’ me so goood,” she gasps deeply, his dark chuckle echoing in her mind as their skin claps together, Stoney squealing each time he bottoms out. 

Her nails dig into his shoulders as she tries to hold on, her body trembling violently, “Oh my god, oh god, I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." she sobs, her voice rising in pitch.

"Fuck, this pussy is mine now. Gripping me like this. Milk my shit dry," he commands, grinding against her as he chases his own release.

He slams into her hard, making her moan loudly. His balls slap against her ass with each thrust, the sound echoing through the room. He leans down to capture her lips in a rough kiss, his tongue invading her mouth as he fucks her senseless.

"You're so fuckin’ tight. Like you were made for me.”

Stoney breaks the kiss, panting heavily as she looks up at him with glazed eyes as she begs, “Cum in me. Cum in me, babyy.” 

Toji raises his eyebrows as he smirks, pleased by her desperation. He picks up the pace, fucking her with brutal intensity. "My dick has you talking crazy.”

She shakes her head, “Please,” she whimpers, “Don’t leave me, cum in me.”

“Not gonna’ fuckin leave you, pretty.”

Her orgasm feels close, her walls tightening at his words, almost feeling more meaningful than the moment. Pleasurable tears come to her eyes as her mouth drops open, the tears dropping as she cries softly, “Need you, I need you…”

He kisses away her tears, holding her chin gently as he stares into her eyes. He can feel her pussy fluttering around his cock, squeezing him tightly. 

"Not letting you go," he whispers, his voice low and intense. He pushes into her harder, faster, chasing their release. 

With a few more powerful thrusts, he buries himself deep inside her and stills, releasing directly inside her. He groans deeply, holding her close as he fills her up completely.

“Gonna cum, baby?” He asks, knowing the answer, just wanting to hear her whine, “Y—Yeah baby, I’m cumming…”

She gasps in a way she hadn’t before, as if she were breathing her last bit of air. She continues talking, “I’m…cumming. I’m cumming.”

Her moans become increasingly louder, causing Toji to grunt at the sounds, slowing his moments as they become more sloppy. He grunts as it turns into an equally low moan with her, both of them feeling their release soon.

Stoney’s climax hits, her inner walls clenching rhythmically around his thick shaft. The scream that comes from her mouth trembles along her lips, as if she didn’t expect it from herself. Toji lets out a guttural growl, his hips jerking erratically as he releases inside her. He holds her close, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he rides out the waves of pleasure.

After a long moment, he lifts his head, gazing down at her with a mix of satisfaction and something deeper. 

“You okay?"

His voice is husky, still affected by their intense coupling. He rocks into her gently, prolonging their shared pleasure until they're both spent and satisfied. Only then does he pull out carefully, admiring how his cum drips out of her well-fucked core. He strokes her hair gently, his other hand resting possessively on her hip. Despite the post-orgasmic haze, there's a new awareness between them, a connection forged in the heat of passion.

"Mhm." 

She pants softly as she tries to regain control over her breathing. Her body still tingles with aftershocks, her thighs quivering slightly from the intensity of their lovemaking. 

She looks up at him, her caramel skin glowing in the dim light of the bathroom. There's a vulnerability in her eyes, a trust that she hasn't shown anyone before. It's as if she's opened herself up to him completely, and the realization sends a thrill through her chest. With that, she pulled him back into a kiss. This man was either gonna be the best thing that happened to her, or the death of her. Either way—fuck it.

      🧚°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧚°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧚

THE SUN BLARING INTO THE HOUSE WAS WOKE HIM UP.  Toji slowly opens his eyes, the bright morning sunlight streaming through the room hitting his face. He turns his head to the side and sees her next to him, her body bare and exposed, her hair covering her face.

He watches her sleeping, feeling a mixture of emotions wash over him. He feels a strange sense of peace, a comfort in having her so close to him. He reaches out a hand, gently pushing her hair away from her face so he can get a better look at her.

She stirs, turning her head the opposite of the pillow. She lets out a soft breath, “Need to get Sai up…for school.”

He smiles slightly, amused by her half-asleep state as he says, “It's still early," his voice raspy with the remnants of sleep, "Sai can sleep a little longer."

“Mmmm, can’t. Nathan’s stupid ass is picking her up. So sleepy…” she pouts, digging herself deeper into the pillow.

“I fucked you good, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Toji lets out a low chuckle, amused by her sleepy grumbling. He moves a bit closer to her, his body still warm from the night before.

 "Why don't you go back to sleep then? I’ll handle Nathan."

She turns her head, peeking an eye open at that. She hesitates, “…You sure? You won’t punch him?” 

 "Can't promise I won't want to," he replies, his voice edged with annoyance, “But I'll try to play nice for your sake."

“‘Don’t have money to bail you out…” 

This makes him chuckle. Toji stands from the bed as he gives a kiss to her forehead, Stoney grunting as he gives a harsh smack to her ass. 

An hour passes, Toji now sat along the porch as he smoked a cigarette, manspread along the chair as he wore only his cargos, scarred lip twisting as he re-lit the end of the object. Sai slept quietly against the sofa, packed lunch and backpack along the side of her, still in her pajamas as Stoney told him she’d be getting dressed at Nathan’s place. The birds chirped in the early morning, a stoic look among Toji’s face as he continued to smoke with the front door open. He waited.

He glances occasionally inside to check on Sai, making sure she's still sleeping peacefully. He takes a drag of his cigarette, blowing out the smoke in a steady stream.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, a car pulls up in the driveway, and Toji recognizes it as Nathan's. He lets out a rough grunt, his muscles tensing as he waits for the other man to approach the house.

As Nathan steps from the car, Toji notices that he holds a bouquet of droopy and brown tipped flowers—pink orchids. Or at least, what would’ve been pink orchids.  When Nathan noticed Toji sitting along the porch, the most confused face came to his expression, only remembering him to be his ex-wife’s moving man.

Toji notices the mixture of confusion and annoyance on Nathan's face, and he can't help but snort in disdain. 

“Where’s Stoney?” Nathan glares, holding the death-written flowers, eyeing Toji’s half-dressed physique.

 Toji knew she was still sleeping peacefully, trying to be of help to her. His mind reflects to Stoney’s naked body passed out in the bed from their intensity within the shower. He wasn’t a dick, but maybe he wanted to be in the moment.

He lets out a sarcastic chuckle, his eyes looking Nathan up and down, "She's still sleeping," he replies, his tone casual and nonchalant. 

He leans back in his chair, the smoke from his cigarette filling the air as he takes a drag, his gaze never leaving him. He can see the irritation in the other man's eyes, and Toji revels in it.

“Well can you wake her up and tell her she should’ve been the one dropping her daughter off at the front door? I need to bring Sai back to my place before dropping her off to school,” he snarled.

"She’s good. She’s asleep for a reason," he replies gruffly. 

He takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing a stream of smoke in Nathan's direction which makes him cringe back. Toji then walks into the living room, taking Sai in his arms which causes her to stir awake. 

She kneels into him as she blinks, “Hi, Mr. Snake Man.”

Nathan watches with disbelief as Toji walks out with Sai in his arms, the girl blinking her doe eyes at the man as he responds, “Hey, kid," his voice gruff, a small smile forming at her sleepy greeting. 

He moves onto the porch, still holding Sai, as Nathan stands in the driveway with the dead flowers and a frustrated expression.

That’s when Nathan also notices the already blooming pink orchids on the porch. Toji leans towards him with a raised eyebrow as he passes Sai off to him, Sai then saying, “Bye Snake Man, take care of mommy!”

“Bye, little one. I will,” he chuckles, waving at her in the usual manner she did to him.

In all of that happening, Nathan's eyes widen as they catch a glimpse of the bedroom. His view was clear enough to see Stoney stirring in bed. Her naked body sprawls along the sheets, groaning as she pulls the comforter over her head to block the sunlight. 

He looks back at Toji, his expression of astonishment and anger. Toji just smirks back at him, enjoying the other man's reaction, leaving him with one last hanging sentence. 

"Yeah, she’s not getting up anytime soon.”

With that, the door slams in his face. 

[auroracalisto]

to call you mine.

anthony bridgerton x gn!reader, 2.4k words summary: anthony comes to the realization that perhaps he needs you more than just a few times a month. can be read as a standalone, but it is a continuation of this short fic here. tw: reader comes from a poorer background which is discussed in the first half of this, mentions of scandals, anxious thoughts, idk man i don't think there really needs to be a tw for this. not really edited though so there may be a few mistakes i missed on my initial two read-throughs. :-)

"I beg you," you softly said. "I beg you to stay, just 'til tomorrow." He looked back at you as he finished buttoning up his shirt, grabbing his trousers from the end of the bed and pulling them on rather quickly. "Y/n, you know I can't do that," he said. "As much as I wish I could." He crossed the threshold to be beside of you, taking your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I do wish I could. But it's not going to happen. Not today." read the full blurb here.

Scandalous. Unworthy. Only the words of a scandalized mind haunted your every step.

Compared to your lover, you were a simpleton—gullible, unready for the truth that the world was so willing to give. The truth that you weren't worthy of Anthony Bridgerton. A Viscount. Someone of your status wouldn't come close to being with a Viscount, no matter how much pining you did to try and get him to stay with you longer than the early hours of the morning.

You knew this. And yet, your heart pined for him. Your heart ached for him.

Day in and day out, you wished for him to stay just a bit longer. Just a bit longer, in your arms. In your bed. In the warmth of your embrace.

Oh, God, what you would give to have Anthony until your dying breath.

But the world wasn't fair. The 'ton did as it would, and if any suspected Anthony had been with you, the repercussions would be immense. Perhaps not for Anthony, but for you.

Your family would never hear the end of it. You would be scandalized until the end of your days.

You would be happy just to be beside of him. To breathe the same air as he.

We never get what we truly want, do we, dear reader?

The sanctity of your bedroom, despite how run down in may be, was all you'd share with Anthony. It seemed as if that was the only moment in time when you could share your body with his, your thoughts with his, your heart with his.

It would never be enough.

You came from a less than savory background. Your mother married for love instead of status, and married a simple printer from the slums of London.

Happy, yes, but the money wasn't what your mother was used to. At times, it seemed to go up and missing, and it would lead to arguments between your parents. As much as they loved each other, it did not help that they could not agree... financially.

But nonetheless, when the time was right and your mother was able to scrounge together enough money for a new dress and a new set of clothes for you, the two of you walked through the 'ton. She'd go and visit her mother, whom would accept her with open arms unless her father was around. She'd walk the same path as the Bridgertons' and Featheringtons' and ignore the questioning looks that were sent her way. She was after all a mysterious woman—to them, at least.

A woman who married for love. A woman who married a printer. How incredulous to think about for those of the 'ton. When it first happened, the scandal was immense.

And now, it seemed, you were in the same boat. Not wanting to marry for money but wanting to marry for love.

Love of the one and only Viscount Bridgerton. The one who could hardly look at you in the daylight, only seeking your comforts when the moon was high in the sky.

Today was one of the days that your mother finally had a new dress. It was quite charming, the deep green fabric complimenting her skin quite nicely. Your outfit was equally charming, in the color of your choice.

"Darling," your mother said, grabbing onto your arm as the two of you walked the path through the 'ton. You could remember the last time you had walked this path, nearly two months ago.

How time had flown since then.

The time spent with Anthony not only haunting your bed but your heart as well.

"Look," she said, squeezing your flesh with warm fingers. She doesn't point, but she nudges you and motions with her head.

Your eyes flickered towards where she directed, and you could feel your heart plummet.

Anthony Bridgerton and his family were out for a stroll. His brother seemed rather amused over something, even going as far as calling his brother's name.

You looked at your mother, feeling rather... ridiculous for how nervous you felt.

"We should keep walking, mother," you said.

"Nonsense! Long ago, I was quite close to Violet Bridgerton. I'd like to say hello, Y/n."

"But mother—"

"—it is not often that I allow myself a stroll through the 'ton. The carriage out is an expense in itself, Y/n. Please. Allow me to say hello to an old friend."

You paused, a soft frown on your lips. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry mother."

She let out a soft sigh and patted your arm, giving a small nod. She continued to walk forward with you.

When Violet Bridgerton spotted the two of you, she began to smile.

She called your mother's name and immediately left her children's side, coming to the woman she had once called a dear friend.

"Oh, my, how lovely you look!" Violet hugged your mother tightly once she had let go of your arm.

You stood to the side, eyes flickering from your mother to Violet. Then, when you believed it was safe, you glanced towards the bane of your existence—Anthony Bridgerton.

He was looking.

Your eyes widened a bit and you quickly looked away.

Just a few nights before had he been in your bed, looking at you with those delicious brown eyes. Just a few nights before had he ravished your body, looking at you as if you were the diamond he had been searching for all his life.

You could barely look at him without becoming flustered.

As Violet and your mother spoke, you hardly paid attention. Only when your mother said your name did you properly look to them.

"Remember Y/n?" your mother asked.

Violet smiled. "Oh, my," she said. "They certainly have grown, hm? I remember when they were just a little thing. How old are you, now, dear? Close to Daphne's age, yes?"

You blinked slowly and mutter out an answer.

Violet heard anyway. "Well," she softly said. "You are a beauty, through and through. Your mother was always quite beautiful growing up. You are lucky to have that with you, dear."

You weakly smiled. "Thank you, Lady Bridgerton."

Violet smiled softly at your politeness. She looked back at your mother. "Come. Walk with my family. There is much I'd like to talk to you about before you go and hide for the next few months, friend."

Your mother didn't look at you as she happily agreed. You would have protested, but the excited look on her face made you hesitate.

You could deal with being near the one you secretly loved if it meant your mother would be happy, even if momentarily.

The sun is high in the sky as the two of you walk towards Violet's family.

You see as Anthony's brother, the one you believe to be Benedict, nudges him rather roughly. Anthony looked to you, face paling at the sight of you.

He had promised you only nights before that you would see him again soon. You supposed he kept his promise, if not crudely done.

You could hardly look at him as you walked along with your mother, looking anywhere but him.

His sister, Eloise, is the one who comes to stand beside of you.

"You are Y/n," Eloise blurted, looking at you with wide, curious eyes. It wasn't often she met one of her brother's conquests—hell, she wasn't even sure if he knew she had found out. Eloise is rather... studious when she wants to be, when it comes to her brothers.

You blinked slowly as you looked at her. "I... I am, yes."

Eloise let out a soft hum, looking over her shoulder. Anthony is staring, saying something out of earshot to Benedict. Eloise then looked out towards the path as they walked.

"It is nice to have a name to the face," she said. "It is often that I only hear your name and have nothing more to go by."

You blinked slowly. "How did you—"

"—he speaks of you," she quickly said. "Often."

"He does?"

Your voice is small—weak, even. As if you couldn't believe the words you were hearing.

"Yes," Eloise said, a humble smile on her lips. "He does."

Benedict Bridgerton looked to his brother, a not-so-subtle grin on his lips. "You act as if you have never been in love, brother."

"I haven't," Anthony said, walking along the path. He looked towards Y/n and her mother as they walked alongside of his mother.

"Why do you lie?" Benedict teased. "It is as if you have never been so in-tune with your own feelings than now. You know you have been in love. You are staring at the very object of your affections, and yet you are letting them slip right through your fingertips."

He looked back at his brother, going to protest, but it dies on his lips. He knows he is right.

He has told Y/n far too many times that he would go back to them—that he would see them soon enough, that he would ravish them on another night.

He has told Y/n far too many times that he needed to return to his family before morning.

He was a Viscount, for god's sake. He could do as he pleased.

But something within him didn't want to do as he pleased just because of that. He wanted more. He wanted more from Y/n, from himself. From the love he knew he could create with them.

He would be better. For them. For himself, and for his family.

Days passed by rather quickly. It was as if your lonely nights had blurred into one. Not that you were complaining. How could you? The longer time passed, the sooner you would see Anthony once more.

In the early hours of an especially difficult night, the knock at your window is unmistakable.

How childish it was for him to throw pebbles at your window to get your attention. It was as if he hadn't grown, despite being at the right age of nine and twenty.

You go to your window and look down, seeing none other than Anthony Bridgerton. You open the window to peer down at him, a deep frown on your lips.

"Anthony—"

"—please, Y/n," he said, almost desperate. The way he says your name makes you melt. "We need to talk. Now."

You blinked slowly and stared at him for almost a solid minute. You reach over and grab a shawl to keep over your shoulders as you walked to the back entrance, where Anthony would greet you like he did so many other times.

But this time, the greeting was a deep and hungry kiss, hands cupping your cheeks as if he'd not had a comforting touch in a hundred years.

You let out a noise of surprise, nearly losing your grasp on your shawl as you kiss him back, eyes fluttering shut.

When he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours, he spoke.

"I need you," he said.

"Anthony..."

"No," he said. "You do not understand what I am saying, Y/n. I need you like I've—oh, I've never needed anyone as bad as what I need you. Not just your body. Not just—not just your lips, love. I need—I need all of you."

You stared up at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"The last you saw of me. I said you wouldn't be happy with me. I—I hope that it is merely a lie of mine. The way I would burn the 'ton to the ground just to have you by my side—you have no idea what I would do for you."

You just listened as he spoke, wide eyed and breathing heavily.

"You asked me to stay. Stay 'til tomorrow. Y/n, I... I cannot do that unless you become mine. Completely mine. And I—I do not wish to part from you. Parting from you is like parting from a vice that I didn't know I needed. I need you more than I ever believed possible." Anthony licked his lips, looking down at you. His hands cupped your cheeks once more, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. "I do not wish to be parted from you any more than I have been."

"And how will you do that?" you asked, gently grabbing onto his forearms as he looked into your eyes. "You said it yourself. You cannot stay with me."

He shook his head, resting his forehead against yours. "I will make it work. I am a Viscount, and my sister is the Duchess of Hastings. The things that I can do will solve all the problems we may face... if you'll have me, of course."

You swallowed nervously as you watched him. "But the scandal—"

"—to hell with the scandals, Y/n," he said. "I would face a hundred of them if it meant that I could see your face morning, noon, and night. I would face a hundred more just to be able to call you mine."

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Not as desperate as the one from before, but still just as powerful.

"Please. I know what I said, and I am sorry for being so foolish. You are the one I want, the one I need. My heart yearns for yours, Y/n."

"What are you asking me, Anthony?"

"I am asking you to marry me, Y/n. Marry me, and I will never leave you alone. Not like I have."

"You wish for me to marry you?"

"More than anything I've ever wished for," he softly said.

"Even though I am not of... of proper standing?"

"You are proper enough," he said, a small smile quirking on his lips.

You let out a soft huff, eyes searching his, before you find yourself nodding in return.

"I will marry you, but only with one condition," you said.

His eyes widened a bit. "Yes, of course. What is it?"

"Do not leave my side. When we are together, do not leave unless it is absolutely necessary. I do not know if I could handle it if you were to leave me to my lonesome," you said. "You have already done so, far too many times."

He smiled down at you, pressing yet another kiss to your lips. "I promise."

"No. Swear it."

He pulled back, tilting his head. "I swear it, Y/n. I will do no such thing for as long as I breathe."

tagging: @captainsophiestark @fall-outgirl219 @bowti3esrc00l

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Muña (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: At the start of the Dance of the Dragons, you host a familiar face. But it is not your husband who darkens your doorstep. It is his nephew.

Warnings: Daemon haunting the narrative. Smut. Body image issues, self-esteem issues. Tully! Reader (Reddish undertone hair) Implied mommy issues. Vaginal sex. Breeding kink

A/N: I got no explanation for this. Might end up writing a part 2 if this does well. Pt 2

“THERE IS a dragon at our gates.” One of your guards announces. You get up from your seat, a wave of nausea already beginning to make herself known. You would rather not face your husband. Not today. Not ever, if you are being truthful with yourself.

You have gained weight. The slim figure that you flaunted at sixteen is long gone. There is more weight in your hips and chest, a bit of softness around your middle. You know he will mock you for it.

“Open them.” You order, bracing yourself for the uncomfortable encounter. You can’t bar him entrance to what is his home too, despite him not visiting in years. “Tell him to leave the dragon there. I’ll send it some food.”

The guard bows and exits the room. One of your companions, Lady Whent, starts to pace the hall. She fears what your husband coming here might mean for you. The rumors said he had loudly proclaimed he would deal with you himself.

Your choice to keep the Riverlands out of the war effort is controversial, but predictable. Surely, no one in their right mind thought you would aid your husband install his Queen. Not even him. Not after he had left your shared home and started living in sin with her, shaming you in front of the whole realm. Yet again, no one would have called Daemon Targaryen the epitome of saneness.

You go sit on your throne, placing your embroidery aside. Your tenants are happy enough that you don’t hold court as often as the other lords. And when they are not, they still refuse to bring their problems to you unless absolutely necessary. No one wants to burden their poor lady more.

You wish they did. The days would seem less empty that way, rotting away in this castle, your house’s sigil mocking you from every corner. Family, Duty, Honor, they had promised you. None had come.

The guard comes back. You remain sitting on your throne, the one you hardly use. You intend to receive your husband from a position of power, not allow him to cower you. But when you look at the man next to the guard, your breath catches.

This man is not your husband. This man is not even one of Rhaenyra’s men.

“Lady Tully.” He says, taking a deep bow. Very respectful, which would make you doubt his relation to your husband were it not for the fact he shares his silver hair.

“Prince… Aemond.” You say, looking at his face. It’s your best guess as to his identity, considering he has a green banner and an eye patch. He wears all black, the color of House Targaryen. You stand up, and curtsy.

“My lady.”

“My husband is not here.” You say, hurriedly. It’s your first instinct. You do not want that dragon of his torching your tenants.“You are welcome to check the castle and my lands, but there is no love lost between us. I assure you I am not hiding him.”

“I know.” He answers, lips twitching into a smirk. You find nothing humorous about it, but you do not dare voice it. You do not understand what he is doing here, if not chasing after Daemon. “I understand your people… Resent him.”

“It is not our place to judge.” You say, voice firm. This man is at least ten years your junior, you will not allow him to intimidate you. No matter how he towers over you, no matter how menacing and mean his features seem. He is no Daemon Targaryen, this green boy. Your husband is the only man you had truly feared. “Only the Seven are perfect, and thus, entitled to judge others' actions.”

“Very devout.” Aemond steps closer to you, his smile widening. The way his face contorts, sharp and with too many teeth, reminds you of one of the piscivorous fishes you have seen swimming up the stream during summer. The look in their eyes is the same he sports now, right before they decide to feast on an unaware trout. “Just like us. Seems like we have a lot in common.”

You gulp. You wish you were less easy to intimidate.

“We do?”

“We do. I don’t like your husband either. The tales of his prowess have been overly exaggerated. And I do not think you are too keen on bowing to Rhaenyra, considering your marriage will be annulled.” A pair of his fingers pluck a stray curl from your up do, twirling it between his fingers. The slightly copperish undertones of it glint under the candlelight.

The threat looms in the air, uncontested by you. Both Prince Aemond and you know that Queen Rhaenyra would be dissolving your marriage as you speak, were it not for the fact that your husband and her need your lands and men for her war. Annulment in exchange for your life would be a much less cruel punishment than whatever they are cooking.

If you were a quieter woman, a less brave one, you would accept your fate. You would say your marriage had been unconsummated, that you will aid your new sovereign and your ex-husband in their war. But you won’t leave your people to their tender care. With the privileged position your lands have, they are also in the privileged position to be amongst the first to burn.

You are not so craven as to save your life in exchange for the ones of your subjects. Hence, neutrality. Hoping it will spare you. All of you.

“Do you think I want to still be married to him? After all this?” It is not enough, you see it now. With the green banner inside your hall, with the one eyed prince himself sent to rally you behind their cause. Neutrality won’t save you. You need to resist Daemon, not just sit praying he won’t attack you. The Seven know he has no such qualms.

“Perhaps we can make a widow out of you yet.” Aemond says to you, a hint of a smile making his expression turn even more menacing.

Tasting freedom on the tip of your tongue for the first time in years, you smile back.

YOU ARE on your side, Aemond thrusting into you from behind. His hand envelops your hip, greedily grasping your flesh. His other arm is under your head, serving as a pillow. For once, you are not self-conscious.

How could you be, when he had practically begged for entrance to your bed? He wanted you, and the thought of that was as thrilling as it was foreign. You hadn't broken your marriage vows ever since you took them. No man had dared voice interest, considering who your husband was.

Aemond had to convince you to get you here, and you had fumbled like a maiden every step of the way. You didn’t dare defy Daemon either. Despite your loneliness over the years, you had never taken another to your bed. No matter how tempted you had been.

When you had seen Aemond, you weren’t planning to, either. He was your good nephew, Daemon’s family. It was utterly scandalous, yet here you were.

You weren’t too sure how you had ended up into this predicament, though. One second the two of you had been making plans, your Lord Commander eager to be at his service, and the next, Aemond was crowding you against a wall and kissing you with unparalleled hunger. Your doubts had been quieted by his warm hands and eager mouth, as he forced you to writhe on his arms and try to divest him of his clothes. Perhaps he had carried you to your room then. You can’t remember, you just hope no one saw you.

“Did he fuck you like this?” He mouths at your ear, lightly biting. No matter how much you want to banish the thought of Daemon from your mind, Aemond doesn’t let you. It makes you feel guilty, breaking your self-imposed celibacy with your nephew in law, but he seems to get a secret thrill from it.

You don’t have the heart to tell him Daemon and you have only gone to bed together once. The night of your wedding.

You stay silent. His hand slides over your stomach, down to your mound. A single, long finger, slips through your folds and starts to rub circles on your pearl.

“Did my uncle ever make you peak?” Aemond asks you, still rubbing those maddening circles. You can’t think. All that is on your mind is a cloud of pleasure, warm and shameful. You shouldn’t be in bed with Daemon’s nephew. Nor should you be breaking your vows.

Aemond bites at your nape, sharply. Just like his uncle, he doesn’t take kindly to not being the center of attention.

“I asked you a question.”

“No.” You tell him, closing your eyes. Your face burns with your shame. Perhaps it is the embarrassment at your husband hating your bed so much he never visited It any longer, or perhaps it is the fact that you are breaking a vow you had really believed in. But Aemond doesn’t seem to like it, pressing soft kisses into your shoulder in an attempt to relax you.

“I'll give you one.” He promises, rubbing your pearl. His thrusting slows down, allowing the head of his member to hit deep inside you. “In my bed, you won't want for anything.”

The way he says it startles you. Dark, possessive. As if he doesn’t intend to let you go after one night, as if he intends to keep you.

“I don't belong in your bed.” You moan, trying to resist the pleasure that seems so sinful in your eyes. You clench around him despite it, not wanting him to leave your body. His free hand, the one serving as your pillow, grabs at your hair, the auburn mane as a bracelet in his pale arm. The pain of the tug only heightens your pleasure, making your body soar above the wave that threatens to crash and drag you under on the pools of hedonism.

Never before had you felt like this. In your encounter with your husband, as he huffed and puffed over you, you had only felt a quick pain and a vague feeling of shame. He had focused on his pleasure first, kicking you out of bed as soon as he was done.

But Aemond. Aemond stares at you, proud of how you unravel in his arms. He encourages you to do it, taking great delight in watching you fall apart.

“You do. With your gorgeous hair and your delicious cunt, I won't allow you to go elsewhere. You are a gift from the Mother herself.” He whispers, darkly. “I’ll worship you how you deserve, Muña.”

The last word seems to amuse him greatly, for it prompts a chuckle out of him. It’s an odd sound to hear coming from him. He seemed the kind who took himself too seriously. He licks at the shell of your ear, at your face, slobbering all over you.

It should disgust you, yet you can’t help but sigh in his arms. Surrender tastes cloyingly sweet in your mouth.

“I… Married.” You repeat, trying to get Aemond to see reason. You claw at his hands, trying to stop him from bringing you this overwhelming ecstasy that makes your body tense, and your thighs quiver. Your mind feels foggy, your wit reduced to half whimpers and softly spoken words.

“I'll wed you, and place my son on your belly.” He grins against your nape, contemplating his final triumph against Daemon. “My seed will take, where his never could. He is weak.”

“I am already married.” You repeat, a bit more firmly. Aemond laughs, rubbing at your pearl once more.

“Shhh, quiet. Quiet, Muña.” He whispers, pulling you to lie under him. He enters you in a single thrust, not giving you a moment of respite. You cry out, nails raking down his back. “I'll kill him. He is just an old man.”

You mutter something. Maybe a reply. Your lips move, incoherent, and you are screaming, the wave of pleasure finally crashing and pulling you under.

“That’s a good aunt. Squeeze your tight little cunt for me.” He grins, and you think this is it. The two of you are going to the Seven Hells.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Could we get a love triangle where the rivals fall in love with each other instead of the intended love interest? (Would love if it's m/m and enemies to lovers)

"Tell me," Cassander murmured. "Is it that you don't like my hands on her, or simply that you wish I had my hands on you instead?"

Azael glared at the other fey. His jaw clenched with the sudden horrible realisation that the truth wanting to slip passed his lips wasn't "her" immediately and without question.

Cassander, bastard that he was, smirked at his silence. He sauntered closer, his gaze fixed on Azael with the disquieting familiarity of any good enemy. He wasn't like the human. Cassander didn't look at him he was some beautiful, otherworldly and magical thing. All positive qualities and power. A dream within a dream within a fantasy. Cassander looked at him like he knew every filthy, dark thing about him and still wanted to sink his teeth in for the rest. Rake out every lingering secret with clawed hands. Rend and own and conquer.

Cassander was not fragile and caring and brave. If Azael shoved Cassander into a wall, if he grabbed him by the shoulders, experience told him there would be no need to be gentle. No fear of breaking something fleeting and perfect.

It should have been about her. She was the better choice in every way. She should have been what he wanted.

"I think you're very quick to physically put yourself between me and her," Cassander continued, in a confiding sort of voice. "Quick to get in my face and see if I'll put you back down . I think, when the three of us are in a room together, I'm the one that you're always watching."

"That's because you're the one who can't be trusted."

"She's drawn to me."

"You're a high fey. She's a human. She can't help it."

"How very patronising and mildly misogynistic. Does she like that about you?"

"I'm trying to keep her safe!"

"Maybe she does," Cassander mused. "Certainly, it's been centuries since I've seen you so worked up. It's an excellent look on you, possessiveness. It reminds me that, no matter how civilised and cold you pretend to be these days, you're still just the vicious little scrap willing to fight every other member of my court. Aren't you?"

Azael seethed. Still, no good response could leave his mouth without damning him. He'd never envied the human's ability to lie quite so much as when Cassander was in the room. He'd never felt quite so much like his very blood was burning up in the heat.

Cassander's smirk grew.

"But what about you, Azael?" His head tilted, as he paused on the other side of the dining table. His voice was ancient music, fey-tongue, home. "Can you help it?"

"It's not my fault you're - maddening."

"Maddening, am I?"

"The worst."

Azael realised, abruptly, that he'd leaned in across the table to snarl the words into Cassander's beautiful face. There were mere inches between them.

What would Cassander do, if it was the human, standing where Azael was? No doubt he'd be charming. He was never charming to Azael.

Their eyes met.

"Kiss me," Cassander ordered.

Without thinking, savagely, Azael did. He tangled his fingers in Cassander's hair and yanked, half hauling him across the table. He bit down claiming at Cassander's lips. He only stopped when he felt Cassander laugh with feral glee against his mouth.

They broke apart. Cassander's eyes were dark, devouring.

"I guess you can't help it, either," Cassander said. He licked his lips. Slow. Taunting. "So how can you hold it against her? Maybe you should apologise."

"Stay away from her."

"Why?"

"Because -" Azael drew in a breath. He could still imagine the heat of Cassander beneath his hands, the scent of him, the wily danger of the summer court's most favoured son. "Because I said so. And you're in my court."

"Would you like me to leave?"

"I'd like you bloody well kiss me again."

It slipped out. Too lacking in the silver that was supposed to coat his frozen tongue.

Cassander grinned with the same triumphant smile he'd once had on the battlefield. He rounded the table, pushing Azael down into the chair and straddling his lap.

"I'll have to send our sweet girl a fruit basket," he said. He mockingly, gently, tucked Azael's hair back from his flushed face. "She might just make an honest thing of you yet."

"You-"

Then he kissed Azael, and Azael realised he was well and truly screwed.

Him.

Maybe it had always been about him.

Damn it.

[livlaughloveluke]

ᡣ𐭩 𝗯𝗲𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱

daughter of aphrodite! reader x luke castellan 💘

IN WHICH.. luke would carry the world on his shoulders for the approval of your mother

warning! this fic contains- like two cuss words // feminine reader // one slight reference to sex (lukes a virgin lolol) // not proofread (yet)

🎧- bewitched by laufey

3.3k

You had always been the favorite of your mother, Aphrodite. With the way she frequently delivered extravagant gifts, ranging from beauty supplies to carefully crafted swords, it was clear you were granted special treatment from the typically vain goddess. Others grew envious of your glorious relationship, watching from afar as you had yet another conversation with her. 

The unfortunate truth was that you worked your ass off to receive a fraction of affection from your mother. Waking up at the crack of dawn to get ready, biting your tongue as others gossiped about you, and training hours per day were just some of the cruel circumstances you had to endure in order to keep up your facade. Everything about you had to be seemingly perfect, which is hard to maintain when living in such harsh conditions.

Your ethereal beauty and charming personality gained the attention of many, making Aphrodite proud. However, no matter how many demigods asked you out, they were all politely declined. This wasn’t a personal choice, but instead one forcefully implemented by your mom. 

Every camper knew of the strange rule the goddess had set for you. Not one soul would be allowed to take you on a date without her approval. Unfortunately for you, she was extremely strict and harsh when choosing. It was odd that the ruler of love would prevent her dearest kin from experiencing the joys of having a partner, but the gods did little with rationality.

During your weekly prayer one evening, you found yourself pondering why Aphrodite seemed to reject all suitors. Seeking answers, you broached the subject with her. In response, Aphrodite professed a desire for nothing but the best for you, her words punctuated by the subtle shifts in her mood. Intrigued by her cryptic response, you couldn't help but remain curious, uncertain whether she spoke the truth or spun another detailed tale.

Among the crowd of diligent campers who showered you with attention, there remained one who truly stood out. Luke Castellan, the offspring of Hermes, had harbored a profound admiration for you from the moment of your arrival. While others were fixated solely on your captivating exterior, he found himself drawn to the depths of your enchanting personality. Your passionate expression for the things that ignited your soul—be it delving into the mysteries of ancient artworks or nurturing the vibrant flower fields—held him spellbound.

One day, the immense ache in his lovelorn heart became too agonizing to bear. As the sun awoke from its slumber and you elegantly devoured a ripe pear, he asked you to follow him into the lush forest. Despite the slightly sketchy request, you obliged, trusting Luke with your whole heart.

"I hate to sound blunt, but why are we here again?" You queried, batting away pesky flies and dodging branches that lunged out intrusively.

"I'm determined to take you out," he proclaimed, his voice brimming with confidence, but you couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt creep in as you cringed with uncertainty.

“Luke, you know how my mom feels-“ 

“Yeah, I know how your mom feels. But how do you feel?” He blurted, his coffee brown eyes staring deep into yours, and for a moment, you saw the deepest part of him that was hidden from the rest of the world. 

“What’d mean?” You questioned him, trying to wrap your head around his statement, like it was a foreign concept for someone to ask how you perceived the situation.

“Do you wanna go out with me?” Luke whispered.

“I’d love to, but she-“ His response was accompanied by a light shake of his head, his voice gaining intensity as he delivered his next sentence with austerity.

“Tell me the truth. If Aphrodite wasn’t your mother, would you date me?”

Silence flooded the woods; it seemed even the birds stopped singing to hear your much-awaited response. 

“Yes, I would.” You said it honestly, twiddling with your hands out of nervousness for your mother’s reaction.

“Okay then. I have a plan; don’t worry.” Luke interlocked your fingers, gently dragging you back to the pavilion with a grin plastered across his face.

As the day unfolded in its familiar rhythm, there was an intriguing twist: you found yourself stealing glances at Luke more frequently, your fondness for him blossoming rapidly. Anticipation brewed as you prayed for the success of whatever scheme Luke had concocted. Yet, the nagging suspicion of your mom’s disapproval gnawed at you, even if Luke was nicknamed the camp's "golden boy."

As dusk approached and dinner was served, the absence of Luke grasped your attention. The atmosphere lacked the presence of a couple other different Hermes offspring, too; the usual crowd at the wooden picnic tables was now missing. Brushing aside budding concerns, you settled beside your siblings, concealing any anxieties that threatened your composure.

You would have thought Hades took a visit to Cabin 11 with the way everyone was scrambling around. Dozens of clothes littered the floor, the room looking as if a freight train plowed through. Luke was in the center of the mess, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully examined his outfit options.

“A suit is definitely too much, right? I mean, I think it would be weird to go completely dressed out.” He started, with Chris standing next to him as they both pondered.

“Yeah, yeah. Ditch the suit.” His friend replied, tossing the crisp attire back into the closet. 

“So do I wear the camp shirt or something else?” Luke interrogated the rest of the children.

“Camp shirt.” Chris said, but another older female camper chimed in.

“Obviously not. It’s a disgusting neon orange.” She declared, rolling her eyes.

“I think it makes him look devoted to the camp.” Chris defended.

“Oh please, it washes him out. Try this navy blue top.” The Hermes girl tossed a crinkled polo at him, turning away as he slipped the shirt on.

Luke looked in the mirror, pleased with his choice. All of his peers stared at him in judgment before coming to the conclusion that the deep blue suited him.

“Told you. Now hurry up. You can’t miss dinner.” She uttered, shooing him out of the packed cabin. 

All eyes were focused on him as he walked to supper since he was out of the appropriate attire. He snagged his dinner, rushing to sit next to you. 

“Cute shirt. A little late though; dinner's almost over.” You complimented, and the rest of your fashion-inclined siblings nodded in agreement. Luke felt his cheeks flush from your words and because of the overwhelming stares provided by campers.

“Thank you. I’m not really hungry anyway." He responded, which wasn’t a complete lie. His stomach was doing cartwheels as he counted down the minutes until the burnt offerings. As soon as the sound echoed through the air, he practically sprinted to be the first.

He slid almost all his food into the metal tin can (which he would definitely miss later that night when he went to bed hungry) and, with shaky hands, lit the dinner. The aroma of multiple dishes mixed into one and then set on fire was putrid, but luckily for Luke, that’s just what he needed to catch the attention of Aphrodite.

As she heard the pleads of the boy, who was begging for a conversation, and smelled the smoke, it was enough to send her spiraling down onto Earth. She was gorgeous—ten times prettier than any image Luke could have pictured in his head.

“I'm Luke Castellan.” He stumbled out nervously, but recollected and gathered his thoughts.

“I want to date your daughter, Y/N.” He declared, noticing the way the goddess looked away with anger. 

“And before you say anything,” he continued, “I swear I have the best intentions.” 

Aphrodite narrowed her eyes, inspecting him.

“I don’t know. Many boys just like you have claimed the same.” She spoke to him with such clarity.

“It’s different; I can promise you that. I’m a good kid.” He pleaded, growing desperate as he swallowed.

“You aren’t sounding much different than the children before you.” She replied, and Luke could tell she was about to walk away, so he did what he thought was best and blurted out what came to mind.

“I’ve never smoked, I pray to the gods every night, and to be honest, I rarely step foot out of camp. I’m healthy, I take care of myself, and I’m the best swordsman in camp—at least that’s what everyone says. I’m still a virgin, and I’ve never even glanced at another girl in any romantic way because the only one I have eyes for is your daughter. Please, ma’am.”

Aphrodite's eyebrows lifted, and her mouth agape at his sudden speil. She had to admit that it was quite impressive.

“Hm, I suppose you have made a compelling argument. I’ll let you take her out on one date, but only if it goes well will you be allowed to see her again. And she must approve of you.”

Luke smiled at her, letting out heavy breaths he didn't even know he was holding on to. 

“Thank you so much. I can assure you, you won’t regret it.” He thanked the goddess, who just shrugged and left him in the dark forest. Too thrilled to care, he joyfully jogged back to the cabins, where his bunkmates patiently waited.

He shoved his way inside, panting, excitement bubbling within him. The air in the cabin seemed to crackle with anticipation as everyone turned their attention toward him, their eyes lit with curiosity, waiting for him to spill the details of what had transpired.

“She said yes!” Luke exclaimed, unable to contain the joy that surged through him. Instantly, the air was filled with the sound of cheers and joyous squeals, his friends erupting into a wave of celebratory exclamations.

“Well, sorta. As long as the first date goes okay,” Luke added, his enthusiasm slightly dampening as he lowered his head, a hint of uncertainty tainting the original exhilaration of his announcement. The cabin fell into a sudden hush, a sense of disappointment crushing the once great news. 

“Then we better get to planning,” Chris interjected, lighting a spark of hope. Everyone returned to their primary delirium, huddling together to craft the picture perfect night.

Campers threw out ideas for the date on the spot, ranging from the location to his preferred mannerisms. His sisters used their experiences with being a women to instruct him on how to act, telling him what was considered acceptable and what to avoid. The rest of his siblings and friends scoped out the land, deciding on the perfect site.

After enduring the lengthy schooling, Luke stole a fleeting moment away from his lesson, his heart set on sharing the newfound momentous revelation with you. The bonfire raged on, campers swarming around it like hungry sharks. Old friendships were being rekindled, and new bonds were forming. Admits the social circle stood you, who laughed as you spoke to the Apollo kids.

With a grin that illuminated his features, Luke observed you from a distance, captivated by the infectious positivity that radiated from you. As you strayed away from the chaotic crowd, your eyes met his. His feet propelled him forward, drawing him towards you. 

“Hey!” you greeted, your voice filled with genuine excitement as he approached.

“Hey! Guess what?” Luke's words tumbled out in a rush, his eagerness present as he awaited your reaction.

“What’s up?” you inquired, intrigued by his anxious body language.

“Your mom said yes,” Luke revealed, his expression a mix of anticipation and restrained enthusiasm.

“What?” you gasped, disbelief coloring your features before giving way to unbridled joy.

“She said yes!” Luke exclaimed, the thrill evident in his voice.

Excitement flourished within you, causing you to leap into his arms, angelic laughter filling the atmosphere as he lifted you up and spun you around. The cutesy scene hooked the attention of others, whispers beginning to travel.

Like a raging wildfire, Luke's announcement spread swiftly through the crowd, resonating with everyone within earshot. Within minutes, the joyous information spread through the gathering. Some were jealous, spreading rumors the moment they heard them, and some were just happy for the two.

Neither of you cared about the whispers and gossiping of those around you, their chatter fading into the background as you were enveloped in his warm embrace. The world seemed to melt away as he gently set you down, his touch lingering on your skin.

As you looked up into his eyes, time seemed to stand still, and the intensity of your love was reflected in the depths of his gaze. With each beat of your heart, you felt a surge of affection wash over you, your gaze softening as you looked upon him with adoration. There, in the depths of his eyes, you found comfort, a sanctuary from the chaos of the world outside.

"7 o'clock okay for tomorrow?" Luke's voice broke through the haze, jolting you back to the present moment. His words sent a tingle of anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Mhm," you murmured in response, your mind still lingering on the warmth of his touch, until a daughter of Demeter called you over, disrupting the spell cast by Luke. As you tore yourself away, a shiver raced down your spine, the absence of his soothing hands leaving you feeling strangely hollow.

In the darkness of the night, neither of you seemed able to sleep with the thought of each other prominent in your minds. Remembering all of the special moments you shared, even before today, summoned a mixture of emotions. If this date didn’t go according to plan, the memories would be permanently lost, drowned out by new experiences.

Eventually, Hypnos blessed you with a night’s rest, and before you knew it, it was 6 p.m., an hour before the long-awaited gathering with Luke. Your siblings were currently helping you get ready in the vast space that was the Aphrodite cabin.

"Do you know where he's taking you?" Urged your closest sister, her fingers deftly working through your hair as she leaned in.

Your heart fluttered with nervous excitement as you met her gaze in the mirror, uncertainty dancing in your eyes. "No, not really," you admitted with a sigh, feeling a knot of anticipation coiling in the pit of your stomach as you nervously tugged at your bottom lip with your teeth.

"Oh gods!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and determination as she dropped the task of defining your hair, her attention now fully focused on the impending dilemma. With a sense of urgency, she hurriedly crossed the room to her bustling closet, the sound of fabric rustling filling the air as she searched for the perfect outfit.

You watched her with amusement, as she rummaged through her collection.

With a triumphant exclamation, she emerged from the depths of her closet, a victorious smile gracing her lips as she presented you with a selection of carefully curated outfits. "I'm sure we can find something that'll work," she declared with confidence, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she began to lay out the options before you.

She presented you with a breathtaking spring dress, its delicate fabric decorated with teensy flowers. You ran your fingers over the dainty material, embracing its beauty.

"It's perfect," you breathed in awe, your voice barely above a whisper, as you marveled at the garment.

"I know, right!" she exclaimed, her excitement infectious as she twirled around in delight. "This is so exciting! Your first date!" she continued, her words bubbling with enthusiasm as she continued to fuss over your appearance.

You attempted to summon a smile, but despite your best efforts, the flicker of unease in your eyes did not go unnoticed by your sister.  She gently squeezed your hand, a silent gesture of support and reassurance.

"What's wrong?" She questioned you softly, her hands pausing in their task of arranging your hair as she turned to look at you through the expansive vanity mirror.

"It's nothing, really. Just... anxious, I guess," you replied, your gaze dropping to the floor as you struggled to find the right words to express the complexity of your thoughts.

"Hey, it'll go great. And if not, there's a long line of suitors out there waiting for you," she reassured you, her voice filled with warmth and understanding, "so I'm sure Mom would approve of at least one of them."

"But I don't want it to be them," you confessed, your voice shaky as you admitted your true feelings. "I want it to be Luke."

She slightly frowned, grabbing your head and leaning into you. You shut your eyes to block the tears, discovering a place of love in her arms. A sudden knock on the wood door interrupted the warmth of silence.

She hopped up with eager anticipation, practically skipping to the door to greet Luke. As she opened it, you seized the opportunity to slip into the closet and change into the dress she had requested.

Luke stood on the doorstep, his hands fidgeting with a bouquet of ethereal flowers, their petals shimmering in the sunlight. A hint of uncertainty flickered in his eyes as he glanced around, searching for you.

"Uh, is Y/N here?" he asked, his voice laced with nervousness as he scratched the back of his head.

"Yes, she is," your friend replied, her tone firm, her gaze locking onto Luke's with determination. "But before you go any further, I need to warn you. You must take excellent care of her, no matter what. Because if you don't, I'll come find you personally."

“I promise.” He stuck out his pinky, interlocking it with hers to signify an agreement he would uphold. Stepping outside the cramped enclosure, you checked your reflection and headed towards the door. 

"Hi!" you exclaimed, your voice ringing out into the air, breaking through the awkward tension that had settled between the two of them. Luke's shoulders visibly relaxed as he turned to face you, a sigh of relief escaping his lips upon noticing your presence.

"Hey." He whispered softly, capturing in the sight of you standing before him, your captivating looks leaving him momentarily speechless. You smiled, threading your arm between his and escaping the cabin. 

"I brought you these." Luke stated, his voice tinged with admiration as he handed you the colorful floral arrangement. You accepted the bouquet with a grateful smile, the fragrance of the flowers filling the air as you gently wafted them in your hand.

"Thank you," you replied sincerely, touched by his thoughtful gesture, "they're beautiful."

Lost in conversation, you continued hiking together, the winding path leading you deeper into the heart of the forest.

Unbeknownst to you, Luke had a destination in mind, his steps purposeful as he guided you along the trail . The scenery around you shifted, the dense foliage giving way to a small deserted landscape.

Atop the grassy bank, a thick picnic blanket lay spread out, its vibrant colors contrasting beautifully with the lush greenery that surrounded it. An assortment of fruits and treats adorned the blanket, ranging from juicy strawberries to decadent chocolates.

As you settled onto the blanket, the soft fabric cushioning your every movement, you couldn't help but marvel at the breathtaking scenery that unfolded before you. Stretching out into the distance was the icy blue lake, its surface shimmering in the golden light of the sun, which peeked over the horizon as if to witness the magic of the moment.

As the minutes flew by, the loud croaking of cicadas immersed and the sky gradually transformed into a canvas of twinkling stars.

Wrapped in Luke's arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, the worries and uncertainties of the day melting away.

In that moment, as you lay together under the vast starlit sky, you felt a profound connection to Luke. A realization that filled you with a sense of joy and contentment, knowing that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Whether your mom approved of your relationship or not (spoiler alert: she did), it didn't matter. What mattered was that you were with Luke, and in his arms, protected from the surrounding cruel world.

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