#I want to shake them around like marbles in a box or something

[berry-bread-bakery]

Coughs and spits this up

They r cuddling ❤️‍🩹 I think they deserve some rest

Uncolored + darker versions below the cut ⤵️

[lnfours]

half of me, half of you | l.n

summary: welcome to the world, baby norris <3 and welcome back to part 3 of this little universe we have going on here! 🩷 requested by anonymous: ‘Omg part three for forevermore??? Like the wedding and then maybe kids🫣’

warnings: pregnancy, surprises, hormones, lando finding out he’s going to be a girl dad 🥹, a whole lot of fluff n stuff

masterlist | ask box

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

“how much longer?” you asked, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet in the bathroom. the brunette girl swiped down on her phone, displaying the timer she had set almost 2 minutes ago.

“30 seconds..” she trailed off, eyes meeting your nervous figure as you bounced your leg up and down. you sent her a soft smile back, beating yourself up for not taking a test sooner.

the past week you had felt terrible. felt like someone had hit you with a bus, thrown it in reverse and then backed up over you. your emotions were all over the place, you couldn’t keep anything down, and suddenly you were craving things you didn’t even like.

your suspicions had brought you to lily, your best friend. alex’s girlfriend, the girl you could rely on for anything.

the alarm of the timer echoed throughout the hotel bathroom. you jumped, eyes quickly moving to the box where the lily had shoved in the little white stick.

you felt like you were going to throw up again because of how the nerves were shaking through your body, “can you…?”

“you don’t wanna read it?”

you shook your head fast, “no, i’m scared,”

she frowned softly, kneeling in front of you, “whatever happens, whatever you decide, i love you and i’m here for you.”

you nodded, letting her hand you the box, “what if he doesn’t feel the same? what if he’s not on the same page? i mean we haven’t even really talked about kids yet, i-“

lily was quick to calm your rambling, coaching you to just breathe for a second. you nodded at her, following her direction as you sucked in a shaky breath.

“for as long as i’ve known lando, he’s always talked about wanting kids,” she said, “and it’s no secret that he wants them with you. he wouldn’t have put that ring on your finger otherwise.”

you smiled softly down at the ring on your left hand, letting out a shaky, “you’re right,”

“usually am,” she smiled back at you as you both let out a laugh, “you ready?”

you nodded again, opening the box and fishing out the little white stick that was about to change your whole life. you flipped it over, turned it the right way around and read it over and over again.

it was positive. you were pregnant.

your silence was an answer in itself for lily as she smiled, cheering and hugging you as you let some of the tears fall down your cheeks and splash onto the marbled tile beneath you.

she had tears in her eyes as well, “you’re gonna be a mom!”

you smiled, letting out a soft laugh in disbelief, “i’m gonna be a mom,”

“the best one out there,” she smiled, pulling you up for a proper hug, “oh i’m so happy for you.”

you laughed again, thankful to have her in your life before you pulled away. you wiped the tears off your cheeks, “guess i should call my ob,” you said and she nodded quickly, “and figure out how i’m going to tell lando.”

lily hummed, “i’m sure you’ll think of something special.”

and you did. you were fiddling with the ring on your left finger, dressed in a black slip dress you had brought with you to the uk. silverstone was the best place on earth, his home race, where his friends were, his family.

and where you were about to tell him he was going to be a dad.

you had given lily the ‘ok’ to tell alex so that you had two people to make sure he would get to the surprise. they both didn’t waste any time, making it their top priority to get lando and bring him back to where you needed him as soon as possible.

you were seated on the blanket in the grass, looking up when you heard footsteps making their way to you. you looked up, the boy dressed in black with his signature white mclaren backwards cap catching your eye.

“hey,” he smiled, letting out a puff of air and looking around at the blanket you had set up, “alex and lily said you had something planned?”

you nodded, “come sit,”

he joined you on the blanket, careful not to knock over the gift box sitting in the middle. you smiled over at him, sensing his nerves.

“what’s up, love?”

you tilted your head towards the white box with a pretty bow on the top, “open it,”

he raised an eyebrow at you, “is something going to pop out at me?”

you laughed, “no! just open it,”

he sighed, complying as he kept it at a safe distance while he took the lid off. once the coast was clear, he reached his hand inside. he felt the plastic stick in his hand and what felt like a photo. he fished them out, eyes landing on the pregnancy test and the picture of the ultrasound you had to confirm that you were pregnant.

he gasped softly, immediately looking over at you before his eyes traveled down to your belly.

“baby,” he started, licking his lips as he sniffled softly, “are you being serious right now?”

you smiled, “deadly.”

he dropped the things back in the box, moving to carefully pull you in the tightest hug he could get you in, “i’m gonna be a dad.”

you nodded, pulling back and wiping under your eyes with the back of your hands, “yeah,”

“and you’re gonna be a mom,” he was really stating the obvious but it brought more tears to your eyes when he spoke, “you’re gonna be the best mom, baby.”

you kissed his cheek softly, “and you’re going to be the best dad.”

he smiled, pulling you closer as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “i love you.”

“i love you.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the months moved on and baby girl norris had finally entered the world, and lord did she have lando wrapped around her little finger already.

from the moment the two met, the nurses handing the little pink blanket over to him, it was game over. her big eyes, which resembled yours, looking straight up at him and her happy gurgles had his heart exploding as he looked down at his baby girl.

“hi, angel,” he cooed, fingers softly brushing against her skin over the tiny little moles and freckles that littered her skin, “oh, you’re perfect.”

you smiled over at your now husband, watching the two interact, “she is,”

he looked up at you, “and so are you, baby,”

you smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as he sat next to you with the little girl in his arms. she was starting to struggle to stay awake, barely keeping her eyes open.

the two of you watched in contentment, his eyes a little watery before he looked back over at you, “we made that,”

you let out a soft chuckle, “we did a good job, yeah?”

he laughed with you, pressing a kiss to your temple, “we did,” he said, “i think you did all the heavy lifting, though. i was just here for the ride,”

you laughed, meeting his eyes, “mm, true,”

he smiled back with that same boyish grin to you, releasing a soft breath, “guess we should probably name her, huh?”

you hummed, “still like the one we had picked?”

he looked down now at the little girl in his arms who now had her eyes closed, sometime during your conversation she had fallen asleep. she was so peaceful and perfect and everything he loved about you wrapped up into one tiny little human. a tiny little human he got to create with you, the other half of his beating heart.

“i do, yeah,” he nodded, “welcome to the world wren norris.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

you made your way up the stairs, a smile spreading on your face as you heard the little girls’ giggle coming from her bedroom. you leaned up against the door way, trying hard not to snicker at your husband who had found himself joining your daughter and her stuffed animals for a tea party.

you watched the two talk about tea and serve them to the dolls and stuffed animals sitting in their respective chairs for a couple minutes before you walked into the room.

“hey, baby,” lando said when you knelt down next to him, giving you the biggest smile, “joining us for some tea?”

“for a bit sure,” you smiled, “everyone will be here soon.”

“oh, mommy, look!” wren said excitedly, “daddy and i drew a picture for you.”

“oh, yeah?” you asked, watching the girl grab the piece of paper, “what is it?”

“we drew daddy’s race car!” she smiled brightly back at you.

you took the piece of paper, noticing the three other stick-figure men in the picture, another one in orange, one in blue and one in red.

“and you drew uncle carlos, oscar and danny?”

she nodded, “it was daddy’s idea.”

you laughed softly at your grinning husband, rolling your eyes playfully, “of course it was.”

you spent some time with you little family, letting them tell you all about their afternoon tea session with mr bear, kitty and mrs froggie, all the stuffed animals sitting in their respective seats.

you grabbed lando’s arm softly, pulling it towards you to read the time on his watch, “we gotta get you ready, wren. everyone’s gonna be here soon!”

she smiled, “can i still wear my princess dress?”

“of course, love,” you smiled. she happily jumped from her seat and ran off to her closet. you looked over at your husband, a smile still on both of your faces.

while you helped change wren into her princess dress, lando had started greeting those who had come to help celebrate your daughter’s third birthday.

it wasn’t long until the little girl left your side, immediately running over to her favorite uncle, “uncle max!”

you smiled when he bent down, picking her up and she squealed happily, “there’s the birthday girl!”

he tickled her sides playfully, her laughter booming as you joined your husband, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“did you get a pony this year?” he asked and you both snickered as wren shook her head.

“mommy said no,” she said, “but she said i could get a puppy!”

“a puppy?!”

you looked over at lando, “i said maybe,”

lando shrugged, “i know you’ll crack.”

“oh she has you wrapped around her finger, mate,” max laughed, looking back at the little girl he was holding, “don’t ya little one?”

“easy, fewtrell,” you laughed, “don’t give her ideas.”

he laughed softly, the little girl going back to her dad to say hi to her uncle alex and aunt lily, leaving you and max standing in the kitchen. he pulled you into his side, giving you a squeeze, “how’re you? i mean, other than enjoying being a mom.”

you laughed, “i’m good,” you let out of a soft breath, “where’s p?”

“she wasn’t feeling well, but she told me to say hi to everyone.”

you frowned, “damn, tell her i said hi and that i hope she feels better.”

he nodded, “i will,”

you both trailed off as you watched lando and alex playfully chase wren, trying to see who could pick her up first, “so, a puppy, huh?”

you rolled your eyes, “it was all him! not me,”

he laughed, “sounds about right, he’d do anything for that little girl.”

you smiled, watching your husband and daughter laugh as alex and lily talked with the birthday girl, asking her questions that made her giggle in response, “he would, and i wouldn’t want it any other way.”

[aloesarchives]

Birthday Special(JJK Oneshot)

TW/Warnings: Domesticity, AFAB/Female Reader, Family life, Slight self-coded Fem!Reader

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her, Mom/Mama (Though no physical description, reader had some self-coded elements)

Word count: 1.5k words

Decided to write something because today is my birthday(May 3rd)! And I'm officially 21! Thank you all for you love and support for the past 7 months of me writing for JJK! Also, this is the Valentine's day I referred to.

“Papa, you’re thinking too hard about this. You know Mama doesn’t ask for much.”

“Yeah, Dad. It shouldn’t be hard to get mom a present. Remember that full-size green tea hand and body lotion you got her? She was way too happy about it and was on the verge of crying happy tears.”

Toji sighs as his kids are behind him trying to ease his stress. Once again, like Valentine’s day, he was struggling to get a present for you. But this time, the stakes are higher because today is your birthday. Not some holiday Toji remembers because it’s one of the many times of the year capitalism does a complete take over for the sake of consumerism, which he can never avoid every time he goes out.

Though his kids have a point, he always wanted to do or get something for you. While you do the occasional mall shopping, it wasn’t often. Maybe once a month if lucky. This always posses a problem for the three because you were the best gifter in the family. Knowing what to give to anyone but only hinting at minute items. Thus having to think outside of the box or really watch your eyes latch onto anything longer than seven seconds. 

Megumi and Tsumiki don’t blame Toji for struggling since your demands weren’t demands but rather promises. You have been nothing but good to Toji for almost two decades. Something Toji knows many people take something like that for granted. Unfortunately, becomes terrifying to know how easily many fall under a dark spell. And Toji fears himself on certain days for not giving what you deserved.

“I know, Megumi. But your mother deserves nice things for herself. She still wears the necklace I gave her when you two were young. That’s almost ten years. Now, you both do some scooping while watching the time. We have to get the cake at 3:45pm.”

The siblings looked at each other before shaking their heads in helping their father’s hunt for a perfect present. They looked around the vast sea of stores to give themselves for any ideas. They were overthinking this whole process because every idea was shot down at the reality that you did have everything you ever wanted.

You have everything you ever wanted is what you always said to them.

Perhaps there’s something else they can give you that reminds of that. The lightbulb above Tsumiki’s head went off as she asked Toji the jewelry store he got the necklace from. He becomes curious as she scans the windows for something until stopping and pointing. Toji and Megumi look over to a display of multiple charm bracelets. 

“If Mama has the necklace with us in it, why can’t she get a matching bracelet to go along with it? She doesn’t have one that does.”

Now, Toji and Megumi were seeing Tsumiki’s vision.

“Good eye, kiddo. Shame on me for not thinking about that sooner.”

Toji lets Tsumiki handle the bracelet creation, occasionally having him and Megumi to be on the same page. Once finalized, Toji goes to fish his wallet for his card to give to Tsumiki to pay. After printing the receipt, the lady gives the card back but it ends up dropping onto the marble counter. Megumi cringes at the metallic clanging it made so he grabs it for Tsumiki to give back to his dad. Everyone in the store glances over at them as Toji puts the card away. Megumi raises a brow at his father because Toji had a smirk plastered on his lips.

“Why are you smirking?”

Toji pockets his hands as he looks at him.

“Don’t worry about it, Megs. Just know there aren't a lot of people with metal credit cards. Anyway, we gotta get movin’ because we need to pick up your Mama’s birthday cake and food for dinner.”

Tsumiki joins them as they head off to finish birthday shopping. Once getting home, they set up everything for you to come home to. By the time you come home, they’re done. Making your presence known, you relax into your humble abode. You walked yourself into the kitchen to see what your family has set up for you.

“Happy Birthday, Mom!”

You're greeted by a hug from each of your kids. Chuckling at the surprise they always seem to do when the day is about you. You hold them close and kiss their foreheads as their hugs re-energize you. Once parting, they made way for their father as your husband stands over you. Holding that dumb grin that you fell in love with over these years.

“Happy Birthday, Doll~.”

Giving a forehead kiss of his own, he holds you ever so softly but with the affectionate firmness. You giggled at how Toji is when it comes to physical touch. He can’t seem to get enough of it. Before eating dinner, you wanted to blow out the candles so they could eat the cake afterwards. The kids say their part and end with “We love you, Mom. Always.” Toji cracks a joke that always makes Megumi roll his eyes before getting into his own sentimental speech.

“Thank you for spending almost 20 years of your life with me. Happy Birthday, (Y/N).”

Ugh, and that softness he had at the end. Made you want to kiss him with all the love and warmth. You thought it’s time to eat dinner when Toji pulls out a small pink bag and places it in front of you. Surprised, you looked around at your family.

“What’s this, guys?”

“It’s for you, Mama. From us.”

Though curious, you smiled as you looked into the bag and pulled out a small box. Upon opening it, you couldn’t stop the smile that took over. There, in the box, was a silver charm snake chain bracelet with a small (F/C) gem at the center of a beautiful silver heart charm. But that’s not make you smile. It came from when your eyes landed on the other three charms attached to the bracelet. Two of those were dangling charms, one of an elegant flower and the other of a small silver puppy. The other charm was a clip-on with the colors of dark blue and black. You recognized them to represent the three that ultimately fulfilled the word “family” for you. 

The flower is Tsumiki as it was her favorite color, the puppy was obviously Megumi, and the last one is Toji for sure. Your smile began to painfully pull at your lips because you realized Toji’s charm closely resembles his wedding ring. Clasping the bracelet on your wrist, you admired how it looked on you.

“It was the kids’ idea to do this. I just paid for it, Hon.”

You knew Toji’s lying but didn't have it in you to call him out. This gift was just too perfect. You go over to give your motherly affection to thank Megumi and Tsumiki, your two children that gave meaning to your motherhood. Once having enough, you go over to Toji. The man you undoubtedly cherish and completely devote yourself to, your husband and your other half. You hug Toji lovingly, taking in his warmth and presence. Nothing in this world brings you comfort and ease than the man you choose to love never made you regret giving your heart and soul to.

Toji just chuckles with his signature grin, returning the hug with the same amount of affection. Yet your children can see the adoration and tenderness in his eyes, knowing full well he never looked at anyone that way because you’re the only one to bring it out of him. Looking up at your Toji, your gaze softens but your smile still holds its homeyness. He stares down at you before he leans in for a kiss you gladly accept. Even Megumi smiles with his sister while watching their parents express their love for one another, seeing them pull away from the kiss.

“They’re truly your kids since they always knew how to give me gifts. It goes with my necklace now. Thank you for this.” Saying as you smile up at him.

“Ah~, they knew because they have  good eyes. Just like their mama. Happy Birthday, (Y/N). Thank you for your love…and thank you for being you.”

The absolute tender affirmation was unlike any other. Though your birthday was a reminder of how many years you’ve been on here, it also serves as a reminder of your milestones over the years. Looking at your life, you got the best out of it. A family of your own and the love from someone who’s been with you through it all. As you tell Megumi and Tsumiki to go ahead and eat, you lock eyes with Toji. Both filled with a love no one can feel except the two of you. Toji hugs you close from behind as you interlace your hands into his, feeling your bracelet pressed up against him. Gazing upon Megumi and Tsumiki, both of your creations born out of each other’s unmatched love for one another.

This will be added into one of your many best birthdays you had.

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[28harryssunflower]

A mafia Valentine

The Venetian chandelier above you glows softly, casting golden light over the sprawling penthouse. The air is filled with the scent of roses - hundreds of them, maybe even thousands - arranged in every corner of the room. Petals are scattered across the polished marble floor, leading toward the enormous king-sized bed draped in crimson silk sheets. Everywhere you turn, there’s something extravagant - a wall of designer dresses, diamond-studded jewelry boxes, limited-edition handbags, and neatly stacked gift boxes wrapped in fine satin ribbons.

It’s overwhelming. It’s too much.

Your heart races as you take it all in. The weight of it, the sheer excess of it, makes your chest tighten.

“Harry,” you breathe, turning to face him.

He stands a few feet away, dressed in his usual tailored black slacks and an expensive silk shirt, the top few buttons undone to reveal the inked patterns of his tattoos. His rings gleam under the warm lighting, his fingers adorned with silver and gold. He watches you with a satisfied smirk, the green of his eyes dark with amusement and something softer - something you still struggle to put a name to.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love,” he says smoothly, stepping toward you. “D’you like it?”

You swallow hard, looking back at the gifts. “Like it?” you echo, a dry laugh slipping past your lips. “Harry, this is- this is too much. It’s always too much, but today… today it’s way too much.”

His smirk falters slightly, and for a moment, he just watches you, his expression unreadable. “Too much?” he repeats, his voice quieter now. “Think you deserve the world, angel.”

You shake your head, stepping toward him with a deep breath. “Harry, money isn’t something to… to just throw around like this.” Your voice wavers slightly as you motion toward the lavish gifts surrounding you. “It’s precious. You shouldn’t be spending so much on me. I’ve told you before, but today… this is insane. I don’t even want to imagine how much all of this cost.”

He exhales slowly, his gaze never leaving yours.

“You don’t have to imagine it,” he murmurs. “It’s not your concern.”

You frown, your chest tightening. “But it is my concern,” you insist. “I know what it’s like to have nothing, Harry. I know what it’s like to go to bed hungry, to wake up and wonder how you’re going to survive another day. And now… now you’re handing me things people could only dream of.” You run a shaky hand through your hair. “It- it feels wrong. Like I don’t deserve it. Like you’re just wasting all of this on me when you could be doing something better with it.”

Silence settles between you, thick and heavy.

Harry’s jaw clenches, a flicker of something dark passing through his gaze. When he finally moves, it’s slow, deliberate. He steps closer, his hand reaching up to gently cup your chin.

“Look at me,” he murmurs.

You do, though your heart pounds at the intensity of his gaze.

“You had nothing before,” he says, his voice low, steady. “And I swore I’d give you everything.” His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, his touch impossibly gentle despite the power that radiates from him. “You think I don’t know what money means? I do. That’s why I use it to make sure you’ll never suffer again. I want you to have everything because you deserve it.” His grip tightens slightly, just enough to make your breath hitch. “Because you’re mine.”

Your lips part, but you have no idea how to respond. His words wrap around you like a promise - one that holds more weight than you can fully comprehend.

“I don’t need all of this,” you whisper, barely able to find your voice. “I just need you.”

A slow smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes soften. “I know,” he murmurs, tilting his head slightly. “But I need you to have it.”

Your brows furrow. “Why?”

His forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your lips, but your mind is still spinning.

You know Harry means well. That he loves you in the only way he knows how - through protection, through possession, through making sure you’ll never have to suffer again. But sometimes, it’s just too much.

Your fingers clutch the fabric of his silk shirt, grounding yourself.

“You don’t have to buy me things to prove that you love me,” you whisper.

Harry exhales sharply, his fingers flexing against your waist. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Then what is it about?” you ask, pulling back just enough to search his face. His emerald eyes flicker with something unreadable, something deep. “Because I feel like every time I try to tell you that I don’t need all of this, you just double down.”

His jaw tightens. “Because you don’t know what it does to me,” he mutters, his voice strained.

You blink up at him, confused. “What what does to you?”

Harry releases you, running a hand through his curls as he steps back. He’s silent for a moment, his expression guarded.

Then, finally, he speaks.

“You ever wonder how I found you?” he asks quietly.

You swallow, not expecting the sudden change in conversation. “What?”

“How I found you,” he repeats, tilting his head slightly. “That night. When you were barely getting by.”

You shift uncomfortably, memories creeping in. The cold. The hunger. The exhaustion that had settled so deep in your bones that you had almost given up entirely. You had been at your lowest when Harry had found you, sweeping into your life like a storm - dangerous, intense, and unstoppable.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “You never told me.”

Harry exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “I wasn’t looking for you,” he murmurs. “I was tracking down some lowlife that owed me money. A guy who had been hiding from me for months.” He pauses, his gaze darkening. “And then I saw you.”

You stare at him, your heart pounding.

“You were sitting outside that shitty café, shivering in that thin jacket.” His voice lowers, rough with something raw. “Your hands were shaking. You looked exhausted. And when you thought no one was looking, you stole a piece of bread off a table someone had left behind.”

Your stomach twists with shame. You remember that night. How your pride had shattered the moment you reached for that half-eaten piece of food.

Harry steps closer again, his gaze locking onto yours. “I’ve seen desperate people before,” he continues, his voice softer now. “People who would do anything to survive. But you?” His thumb brushes against your cheek. “You were starving, freezing, and still… when I sat down next to you, you told me to leave you alone.”

Your lips part, but you don’t know what to say.

Harry lets out a quiet chuckle, though there’s no humor in it. “You had nothing. And you still had your pride.” His eyes darken slightly. “But I couldn’t walk away. Couldn’t get you out of my head. So I found out who you were. Where you had come from. And I swore - right then and there - that you would never live like that again.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“That’s why I do this, angel,” he murmurs, cupping your face between his hands. “Why I spoil you. Why I give you more than you think you need. Because I know what it feels like to starve.” His thumb traces along your cheekbone. “And I know that even though you tell me you’re fine, there’s still a part of you that’s afraid of going back to that life.”

Tears prick at your eyes before you can stop them. You try to look away, but Harry doesn’t let you.

“You’re mine now,” he whispers. “And as long as I’m breathing, you will never have to be that girl again.”

A shaky breath leaves your lips. “Harry-“

He silences you with a kiss, deep and slow, his hands holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. And maybe, to him, you are.

When he finally pulls away, his smirk returns, though it’s softer now.

“Now,” he murmurs, his hands slipping down to your waist, “are you going to let me spoil you today, or are we going to spend the whole night arguing?”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

Harry grins. “And you’re everything, angel.”

And despite the diamonds, the designer dresses, and the endless luxuries - you know that, in his eyes, you are the most valuable thing he has ever owned.

The room is quiet except for the steady rhythm of your breath and the faint rustling of silk as Harry’s fingers toy with the hem of your dress. The weight of his words still lingers in the air, settling deep in your chest like an anchor.

You’ve always known that Harry was possessive - that his love was fierce, all-consuming, and unwavering. But hearing the full story, remembering the night he found you, makes everything feel even heavier.

His protection, his obsession with spoiling you, his need to make sure you never go without - it all makes sense now.

And yet…

You place your hands on his chest, gently pushing him back just enough to meet his eyes.

“I hear you,” you say softly. “I do. And I know you just want to take care of me. But, Harry… I don’t want to forget where I came from.”

His jaw tightens slightly, the ghost of a frown flickering across his face. “You don’t have to.”

“But I don’t want to live in fear of it either,” you continue, your voice steady. “And I don’t want you to, either. Because that’s what this is, isn’t it?” You tilt your head, searching his gaze. “You’re afraid. Afraid that if you stop, if you let me go without anything, I’ll somehow slip back into that life.”

Harry’s hands flex against your waist. He doesn’t confirm it, but he doesn’t deny it either.

You take a deep breath, running your fingers lightly over his collarbone. “I love you,” you murmur. “And I love how much you love me. But you don’t have to prove anything to me, Harry. I already know you’d burn the world down for me.” A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “You don’t have to buy me the world too.”

He watches you, his gaze unreadable, and for a long moment, he doesn’t say anything.

Then, slowly, he exhales, his forehead pressing against yours once again.

“Christ,” he mutters. “You make it so damn hard to argue with you.”

You laugh softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Maybe because you know I’m right.”

Harry hums, his hands sliding lower, pulling you flush against him. “Mmm. Maybe.”

There’s something different in his expression now - less tension, more ease. He still wants to spoil you. That much is obvious. But maybe, he understands you a little better now.

His lips brush against your ear. “But I’m still taking you to dinner tonight.”

You roll your eyes, though you’re smiling. “Of course you are.”

“And you’re still wearing the dress I bought you.”

You glance over at the extravagant black gown hanging on the rack, undoubtedly worth more than your entire childhood home.

You sigh. “Fine.”

Harry smirks. “And the diamonds.”

You narrow your eyes. “Harry-“

He silences you with another kiss, slow and deep, his fingers threading through your hair. When he finally pulls away, his smirk has softened, replaced by something quieter, something that makes your heart ache.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

You smile, resting your forehead against his. “I love you too.”

And as much as he spoils you, as much as he overwhelms you with more than you think you need, you know this - he is the only luxury you’ll ever truly want.

The restaurant Harry takes you to is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before - an exclusive, candlelit terrace overlooking the city, where only the most powerful and untouchable people dine. The soft hum of a violinist fills the air, mixing with the low murmur of conversation, but all you can focus on is the man sitting across from you.

Harry Styles, the most feared mafia boss in the city, watching you with a look so intense it makes your breath catch.

Dinner had been perfect. The finest wine, the most exquisite food, all chosen just for you. Harry never does anything halfway, and tonight is no exception. But still, something feels different. There’s a tension in the air, a kind of anticipation that makes your pulse quicken.

You set your glass down, eyeing him carefully. “Alright,” you say, crossing your arms on the table. “You’ve been staring at me all night like you’re up to something. What is it?”

Harry chuckles, leaning back in his chair, his rings glinting under the warm light. “Can’t a man admire his girl?”

You narrow your eyes. “You admire me every day. This is different.”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Always too smart for your own good.”

Your heart skips a beat when he suddenly stands, reaching into his pocket before holding out a hand. “Come with me.”

You blink, glancing around. “Harry, we’re in the middle of dinner-“

“Dinner’s over,” he says simply, his green eyes dark with something unreadable. “Come on, angel.”

Curiosity buzzes inside you as you slip your hand into his, letting him pull you to your feet. He leads you through the terrace, past the elegant diners who all seem to shrink in his presence.

And then, just when you think he’s about to guide you back to the car, he takes a sharp turn - leading you toward a private rooftop.

Your breath catches as the sight unfolds before you.

The rooftop is empty except for a sea of white roses, their petals glowing under the soft golden fairy lights strung across the railing. The city sparkles in the distance, the skyline stretching endlessly under the night sky.

It’s beautiful.

You turn to Harry, heart pounding. “Harry… what is this?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he steps closer, his hands finding your waist as he looks down at you, his expression softer than you’ve ever seen it.

“I’ve given you everything,” he murmurs. “Everything money can buy. But there’s still one thing I haven’t given you yet.”

Your stomach flips, realization dawning.

Harry takes a slow breath, then drops to one knee.

You gasp, your hands flying to your mouth as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small black box.

“I told you I’d never let you suffer again,” he says, his voice steady. “That I’d give you the world, that I’d protect you with everything I have.” He flicks the box open, revealing a breathtaking diamond ring - elegant, stunning, perfect.

Your eyes sting with unshed tears.

“But none of it means anything if I don’t have you,” Harry continues. “You are the only thing I’ve ever truly needed.” He exhales, his fingers tightening around the box. “So, marry me. Let me make you mine forever.”

Your chest feels like it might burst.

The man who once ruled through fear, who held the entire city in the palm of his hand, was now on his knees before you, asking you to be his forever.

A tear slips down your cheek as you let out a shaky laugh. “Of course, you idiot,” you whisper. “Of course, I’ll marry you.”

Harry’s lips curl into a relieved smirk as he slides the ring onto your finger before pulling you down into his arms, crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that steals the breath from your lungs.

And as the city lights glow around you, you realize.

This was all you ever truly needed.

[4pfsukuna]

What about sukuna trying to make reader jealous but readers not fucking with it and gets mad instead or something🤔

Jealous? My facecard dont decline!

Heres something for  Heian era because i wasnt sure what time period you wanted but if you submit this request again I’m more than happy to do a modern day plus smut if you’d like💖 i had so much fun with this!

Waking up in a full nelson at the sound of “wake your stupid ass up” is the last thing Sukuna expects…. Like ever. The grip has him ready to pass back out and the only thing keeping him awake is the fact THRILL that it's you. Now you may be wondering:

“what did he do to make you so mad?”

Discussing fabrics with the seamstress was taking longer than it was supposed to but you didn't mind. not only were you the it girl and material girl of the land you were Sukunas girlfriend meaning you could have anything you want. New wardrobe? Yours. Blood of your enemies? You could have their blood and their enemies blood.

It seemed the only thing you couldn't have was alone time to be a baddie. As the seamstress opened up the jewelry box revealing 3 new sets of gold hoop earrings, 5 gold bracelets, an assortment of anklets and necklaces to match it with the different silk fabrics you grin happily when all of a sudden you hear this agitating sound.

“You’ve been at it for hours with this shit” Sukuna growls, walking in for the fourth time scaring the other woman and finally pissing you off. She doesn’t do her best work when she's terrified because her hands begin to shake.

“Would you fuck off” you hiss at your boyfriend completely annoyed at his pestering antics and the way he just cant take no for an answer. And it wasn’t even that you told him no to anything, it was more so that you just wanted to indulge in yourself, it takes time to be a bad bitch.

He was equally annoyed with you as well, truth be told for several reasons. He had no idea what kind of sorcery you’d done to have him this hooked. He knew you were nearly as powerful as him with the ability to summon any snake any size and that your body contained every snake venom known (and unknown) to man. The way your eyes would focus on him when he spoke taking in every word as if it was water and you were dehydrated, the way you reach for him in your sleep and God forbid he leaves bed to finish up work(gossip with uraume) you'd storm down stairs and plop in his lap demanding to be held falling asleep the minute he holds you. Or your lips? The way you smiled at him as he cupped your chin to guide his tip—

“No!” He snaps annoyed he has to fight an inanimate object for your attention and he leans forward causing something neither of you expect it happens to fast.

Your hands grab the back of his head locking into his hair yanking so he's now eye level with you, a dark look in your eyes as your tounge grazes your lips before you can say anything his intensity matches yours.

You expect it because how dare you embarrass him in front of lower levels like this?!

His hand wraps around your neck and soon it's a power battle as it usually is with an underlying sexual tension that keeps things flowing between you, the temperature of the room dropping 20 degrees on your behalf and quickly raising 21 on his. 

Petty king.

You drop your hand not wanting to fight with him and knowing deep down he didn’t either. But how dare you defy the great sukuna.

“By the time i'm done with my meeting i expect you to be done with this” he seethes making sure to set fire to all the plants as he walks past them. How dramatic!

Sighing knowing that was his way of inviting you to the meeting you turn back to the woman sending her a look of reassurance to continue.

Walking down the bare marble halls the only sound of distant footsteps and chatter as you listen to uraume who fills you in on the gossip. You gasp with a wide eyed expression stopping to face them.

“And they were bunkmates” and your jaw nearly hit the ground at the tea. The servants were so messy you wanted to see if Sukuna knew anything about it and if anything would stop your fued it would be gossip.

Urauma glances behind you, their smile falling completely off their face replaced by nervousness before bringing it back but it was already too late.  It's when they try to guide you back to where you had already come from that you get suspicious and turn around seeing Sukuna with one of the servant girls pinned to the wall, his large tattooed arm above her head as he talks.

You almost laugh at the display and at Uraume trying to get his attention, instead you link arms with your boyfriend's bestie and continue to walk past them.

“He couldn't make me jealous even if he tried! I sit on this man's face nearly every night, he buys me everything I want and besides do you see what i look like? My body was crafted! My face was sculpted i cant be jealous when i look like this” you arrogantly spit loud enough for all 3 of them to hear and a slither of you feels bad for the poor girl she had mearly been roped into this and Sukuna feels his heart swell with pride, you were his fucking girl.

But he sees a challenge, he's still a man nonetheless and being a man comes with doing stupidness you couldn't explain.

Like having another woman on his arm at a dinner he hosted with Curses he somewhat respected and neighboring estates just to show off. He was arrogant you'll give him that, and you were livid.

Watching him flaunt this ditsy little flat bodied bimbo around was pissing you off not cause you were jealous but because you were the one that should be meeting all of his allies. You were the one who’s power matched theirs, even rivaled it. You could feel your human eyes turn to snake eyes as your anger rose and roared through you.

It was disrespectful and downright embarrassing! Not only did people not know your status and who you were to him, not only did it make you feel lower than the Queen you actually were not only did you look like a complete fool having Sukunas initial on the gold beads that decorated your butt length braided ponytail but she had the audacity to smile at you as if she won.

He let another woman take your place, let another woman feel like she was above you. He let another woman sit on YOUR throne that is his lap and you can feel yourself losing your composure faster than you ever have.

You want to react in this very moment cause a scene hell even release some of your snakes but you couldn't imagine looking as dramatic and childish as Sukuna did earlier! That wasn't very it girl material of you. Instead you look over at Uraume finishing your glass of Sake, there was no point in wasting it, before shoving it in their hands and disappearing. 

Sukuna would never try no shit like this again.

Uraume sends a pointed look at Sukuna who instantly dismisses the servant smirking outwardly at your silent anger, a nerve wracking thought of if he pushed entirely too hard as the silhouette of you leaving replays in his mind. Were those his initials in your braid. He instantly feels disgusted and wants everyone to leave while he talks to you but swallows the thought.

He was Sukuna Ryomen, the king of curses, the king of doing whatever he wanted and nobody could stop him or tell him otherwise. So he parties, drinks and continues the night without a hitch until the sky is at its darkest and he bids a good night showering and laying in his empty bed. 

He spends about an hour tossing and turning unable to sleep not knowing where you are and pissed you aren’t in bed with him.

It's when he finally dozes off at the beginning of a dream playing that he thinks he feels the tips of your fingers in his back trailing over his broad shoulders and all four arms.

“Wake your stupid ass up” he hears before there's a vice-like grip on his neck pushing against his windpipe. He struggles for a little bit to breathe as your wrist digs into his pressure points.

“Y/N!” He shouts your name yet you only grip tighter and he doesn't even fight to get you off just shocked at your murder attempt.

“No dont fucking Y/N me! You tried to make me jealous and only pissed me off! Do I look like some weak willed bitch to you? Do you not see what i look like and you think you can make ME jealous, my king im offended! and the fucking audacity to try” you snap squeezing tighter and his hands come up to grip your arms.

 “Ryomen If you ever treat me like im not your girlfriend… your fucking queen ill poison you, have you an inch from your life and take over your thrown as i watch you die” you whisper the last part in his ear sending a chill down his spine before your grip loosens completely arms unsnaking.

Climbing under the covers you make yourself comfortable before turning on your side instantly falling asleep the minute your head hits the pillow. 

You miss the way your boyfriend holds his neck in disbelief with slight arousal and a tad bit of fear. You were fearless yet angry enough to not only threaten him but attempt to kill him? It’s when he hears your soft snores that actually sounds more like a snake hiss that he knows you're actually asleep.

Not only did you just pull that stunt but you had the audacity to sleep peacefully knowing he wouldn’t kill you. Not even a sliver of fear in your body. It’s like you were testing him! 

He may have been a sick man because he loved every second of it, he doesn’t test his luck by wrapping any of his arms around you, instead just lays close enough to still feel your body heat until you roll over wrapping an arm and leg possesively around him. 

He grins for a woman nearly a foot shorter than him, you may have the biggest ego in the room. 

“Wait, she tried to kill you in your sleep, threatened to kill you once you woke up and you’re shopping for wedding rings right now?” Uraume asks and this is one of the only times Sukuna had baffled them with his madness. Uraume never questioned Sukuna, it wouldn’t make sense to and that’s how it was easy being his most loyal and right hand but this… this was different.

“Yeah, any woman that bold is made for me!” Sukuna grins looking over the rings trying to find the biggest, brightest, most sinister looking ring.

“You think after yesterday's events consisting of making her jealous and ignoring her you should propose?” Uraume stated in that pestering ‘duh jackass’ voice that would usually have sukuna second guessing.

“What? No, she rode my face this morning until she blacked out again and I sent her to the next land over shopping for whatever her heart desires then set up a hair appointment with a stylist from her homeland.” Sukuna picks up a ring with a blood diamond circled by red rubies that matched the red of his eyes. He was sure the ring could be used as an anchor… you’d love it.

“Your highness for the cost of that ring we may have to take over a small village to not have this affect our funds” Uraume advises making small notes of villages near by in other peoples territory knowing Sukuna would start a war if it meant funding his queens lifestyle.

“A village is too small i want kamiro territory, ill kill him and anybody that decides to follow him. I don’t like the way he smells anyway” Sukuna shrugs, picking up a matching bracelet for you.

“You two have more drama than the servants”

[comically-callous]

Hey! Can I request a Willy Wonka x reader? I don’t know if you’ve ever read the Anne of green gables series but there’s a dialogue where Anne tells Gilbert “I don't want sunbursts or marble halls, I just want you.” and if you can, can you put that in with fem reader saying this to Wonka when he’s worried he won’t be able to make it big from just starting out and providing for them with all his setbacks and of course it’s all fluff and soft?

"Yes anon." The fanfic writers all say in unison.

Willy Wonka x gn!Reader (Wonka 2023)

A/n: Since Valentine's day is coming up, I sort of made this post themed around that. My requests are open 🤠

Willy had been very self conscious lately. Which was not something he was very used to feeling.

It all started one day when he'd overheard a couple men having a conversation on the street. They were talking about the lavish gifts they planned to give their wives for Valentine's day. Diamond rings, expensive dinners, personalized portraits, on and on.

Before then, he'd had no problem with his plan of giving you flowers, chocolate, and a card. But, now? That felt like nothing compared to what other guys were doing for their significant others.

His insecurity grew from there. His chocolate business had only just started out, but he felt like he wasn't making enough money. That's why he couldn't get you a fancy gift. And if he couldn't get you a fancy gift then how would he ever be able to even support you? You'd never want to marry him if he couldn't support you.

His insecurities snowballed until he was absolutely dreading February 14.

The day arrived and saying Willy was nervous to see you was an understatement.

The two of you had agreed to meet at your house. He knocked on the door, his heart racing and his hands feeling a bit sweaty. When you opened the door he swallowed nervously.

You smiled at him sweetly. "Hi, Willy!" You wrapped your arms around him in a hug and he relaxed a bit. "Happy Valentine's day!"

"Yeah, happy Valentine's day."

You pulled back from the hug and led him inside. "Can I give you your gift first?" You asked excitedly.

"Uh- Sure. Yeah." He sat at your kitchen table and watched as you left the room, seemingly to retrieve the gift.

"Close your eyes." You instructed. He did as you asked. After a moment he felt your presence behind him as you put your arms over his shoulders to hold something in front of him.

"Now open."

He opened his eyes.

In front of him was a framed picture. It was his favorite picture of the two of you. When it had been taken, Willy insisted that you kept it.

"I made the frame myself." You said with a proud smile. "Turn it around." He flipped the frame to see a heartfelt love poem on the back.

"This is amazing." He gushed, smiling as you sat next to him at the table. "Thank you." He pecked your cheek and you giggled.

The sweet moment was soured a bit when he realized he had to give you your gift now.

He handed you the bag your gift was in mumbling a quick "It's not much." as you eagerly looked inside.

First, you pulled out the chocolates. They were in a heart shaped box with a card attached.

You read the card before opening the box of chocolate.

"About half of them are your favorites, and the other half are ones I think you'd really enjoy." He says as you popped one into your mouth and let out a satisfied hum.

"I'm sure I'll love them all." You said as you reached into the bag and pulled out the bouquet he'd gotten you.

"I grew those for you."

"You grew these for me?" You repeated, astonished he'd put in that much work for you. "Willy, I love them!"

"You don't have to say that." He shakes his head.

You tilt your head, confused. You gently put the flowers on the table with your chocolates. "What do you mean?"

"You don't have to pretend you love the gift." He shrugged. "I know you've probably gotten flowers and chocolate dozens of times before, and I know it's not extravagant or-"

"Willy." You say his name softly. He gives his attention to you. "Why would I not love this gift? You made me my favorite chocolate! You grew me flowers! That's so romantic!"

"But..." He trailed off, looking away nervously.

"But, what?" You asked.

He paused. "It's not expensive, or fancy, or... Any of that stuff."

"Why would I care about that?"

"Because-" He felt tears begin to well up in his eyes. "Because if I can't even give you a nice gift how am I supposed to buy you a wedding ring, or a house, or pay rent? How am I supposed to take care of you?"

You blinked. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You'd never heard him be this distressed over anything.

After a moment, you gently cup his cheek with your hand. He gazes at you with his big, brown eyes that are wet with tears and it breaks your heart a bit. "Willy... I don't want sunbursts," you say. "I don't want marble halls," you continue. "I don't want diamonds, or pearls, or any of that!" You pause. "I just want you."

Willy's speechless. He stares at you for a moment and then his lips crash into yours.

The two of you share a sweet kiss for a long moment until you break away. "I love you, okay?" You assure him softly.

He nods, a small smile on his lips. "Okay." He says. "I love you too."

[levellyscorner]

Acolyte (Bob Reynolds x Reader)

Summary: Bob has a crush on you. He doesnt know how it started. But hes a mess when your around and hes convinced himself he cant have you. But then you start to push against the walls he has built.

A/N: Requests open.

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Thunderbolts!Reader

Word Count: 5'850

Warnings: Bob's Self Doubt, Smut Adjacent but not fully sorry. Devotion/Yearning? Idk Ive been working on this for hours and im tired tbh.

A/N: This is from bobs perspective- I usually write in third person so let me know if it was good or if it was kinda dog water. if i got a bit lazy towards the end let me know if you want a spicer part 2.

XoXoXo Lev

I didn’t want to come here. 

Didn’t want the chandeliers dripping crystal like icicles. Didn’t want the glittering gowns, the smug politicians, the shrill laughter echoing off marble walls. Didn’t want to be squeezed into this tux like a corpse in a coffin, smiling like I don’t still hear screaming in quiet rooms. But Valentina insisted. “You’re the face now,” she said, eyes gleaming like she’d already calculated the headlines. “People want to see who will be protecting them. Do your part, Robert.” She would say in the same tone she always did- like I'm a toddler that doesn't want to eat his vegetables.  

I should’ve said no. 

But I don’t say no to Valentina. 

 Not yet. 

So I’m here, champagne flute sweating in my hand, posture too stiff, trying not to shatter under the low buzz of conversation and polite judgment. I’m parked beside a carved pillar near the edge of the ballroom, half-shadowed, where I can keep my back to the wall and my eyes on the exits. There are six. Seven if I use the ceiling. But that's just wistful thinking, what kind of hero would I look like if I just bounce the event? 

The flute’s already half-empty. Or half-full. Either way, it tastes headache and regret in the morning. The room swells with artificial charm. Perfume, cologne, ambition masked as philanthropy. Everyone here is either pretending they care or pretending they don’t. I blend in perfectly. And I’m starting to think I could survive this. Just one more hour. Maybe two. Long enough to check Valentina’s box and disappear before the next senator tries to shake my hand and pretend, he doesn’t see the cracks. 

Then you walk in.  

And it's like time is suspended. Not in the cosmic, Sentry-kind-of-way — not a crack in the universe, not a shift in reality. Just the kind of silence that crashes in when the world tilts a little, like something just changed and only I noticed.  

The crowd melts away in the periphery, the music fades into the background. You move through the room, and the light catches the fabric of your dress — deep Nile blue, like the ocean at twilight. Your dress doesn’t just shimmer — it glows, like moonlight trapped in deep water. Every step you take leaves a ripple. The embroidery—floral, intricate, almost alive—climbs over your curves like ivy claiming sacred ground. You move like you know what you’re doing to me. 

God, I hope you don’t. 

Because I can’t afford this. Not here. Not tonight. Not with everything buried in my chest already threatening to surface. You haven’t even looked at me and I’m drowning.  It’s not just that you’re beautiful. It’s that you’re real in a room full of ghosts wearing borrowed skin. It’s the way the light moves with you like it chooses you. It’s the fact that for one sharp, stupid second, I let myself imagine what it would feel like to touch you — not just with hands, but with whatever’s left of the parts of me I don’t let see daylight anymore. 

The truth is, I’ve built walls thick enough to muffle war. Not for safety — for containment. To keep the worst parts of me from leaking out, from touching anyone soft enough to still matter. I’ve worn masks so long I don’t know where my face ends and the performance begins. But then you appear, gliding through this goddamn gilded illusion, and all I can think about is how unguarded I suddenly feel. Like you peeled the armor off with a look I haven’t even received yet. 

I don’t want this. 

I don’t want to want. 

Because want leads to reach, and reach leads to ruin. 

And you —  You are not something I’m allowed to reach for. 

Something I won't allow myself to ruin.  

I’ve spent so long keeping that darkness hidden, keeping it caged inside me, afraid that if anyone sees it—if anyone feels it—I’ll destroy them. I can’t let you close enough to see my mess. Close enough to see the ghosts I keep in neat, silent rows behind my ribs. You're not meant to be close enough to see the cracks. To feel the cold leaking out of them. 

"You’re not going to hide in the shadows all night, are you?" 

God- that voice ass sweet as honey cutting through my inner spiraling like a knife, I’ve memorized the sound of your voice, I’ve memorized every syllable, every inflection, every tone. I could listen to it for hours, even in my darkest moments. I wont admit it but I’ve saved every voicemail you’ve sent while you were away on those missions, playing them back over and over until the words have faded into something almost sacred. 

“You’ve got this, Bobby. Don't get yourself killed, okay?” 

“Don’t forget to eat. I don’t want you passing out in some dingy alley.” 

“Hey Bobert~ I know your probably asleep, but I just want to check in- John and Ava are driving me crazy~ I can't wait to come back and tell you about everything. I’ll see you soon. Sweet dreams~” 

I’ve probably played each one fifty times, replaying your voice like its my favorite song. 

“I… I’m fine,” I say, my voice hoarse, a lie I know you can see through. But I say it anyway, desperate to keep the distance, desperate to push you back into the safe space where I don’t have to let you in. You don’t buy it. Of course you don’t. Your gaze doesn’t waver, not even for a second, like you’re searching for something behind my mask. So, I reach for something easier than honesty. “You know,” I say, trying to sound casual, like I’m not imploding from the inside out, “there’s a whole flock of handsome guys over by the champagne tower. Flashy smiles, expensive shoes. You could do some damage over there.” 

You raise an eyebrow, amused. "Is that what I’m supposed to be doing?” you ask, eyebrow raised. “Flirting my way through the guest list?” I offer a crooked smile. “Wouldn’t blame you. The room’s full of polished shoes and practiced charm. Some of them might even know how to dance.” You take a step closer. It’s subtle, barely noticeable unless someone’s looking for it — and of course I am. I’m looking for any excuse to convince myself you might feel the same. "I don’t want any of them.” You mused rocking back on your heels with your hands folded behind your back.  

“You might change your mind once the champagne really kicks in.” You laugh softly, and I have to have a mental argument with myself to not pull you close and swallow that laugh, like it was something I earned, like it was my right. “You always do this, you know.” you say, not unkindly. “Throw up a little smoke and hope I wander off.” I don’t answer. There’s nothing to say that doesn’t open a door I’m not ready to walk through. 

So I give a small shrug, like that somehow counts as a response. Like maybe indifference can pass for armor. You don’t fill the silence. You just watch me. Still. Steady. I tip back what’s left of my champagne and let the glass dangle between my fingers. “I’m not exactly good company,” I mutter, gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder. “I’m sure there’s someone in here better suited for this kind of scene.” 

“Who said looking for better?” you say. Without hesitation. 

I feel it before I even register what’s happening — the faint scent of coffee and almonds, curling around me like an invisible thread, wrapping tighter with each breath. It’s you. Your perfume. Subtle but distinct, the kind that lingers in the back of my mind long after you’re gone. The coffee’s rich and warm, grounding, but the almonds? Sweet. Almost too sweet. Like temptation wrapped in something familiar. Something dangerous. 

And I hate that I can smell it so clearly. That it’s so damn familiar and impossible to escape. It clings to the air between us like a magnet, pulling me toward you even when every instinct is telling me to push you away. 

My pulse stutters. 

And glance at you, just enough to catch that glint in your eyes. You know exactly what you’re doing. You see me — all of me — every crack I’ve tried so damn hard to hide. And now, I can’t seem to look away. “This isn’t my scene,” I say, my voice flat, but it cracks as I speak. It’s not as convincing as I want it to be. 

You tilt your head, eyes narrowing just a fraction. The smile that plays on your lips is a little less playful now. It’s something sharper. Something knowing. “Maybe not. But here you are. Still standing with me.” I take another breath, trying to steady myself, but all I can taste is the warmth of that scent — coffee and almonds, wrapping around me like the tendrils of desire.  

And then, without warning, you step closer. 

A small, deliberate movement, as if you’re testing the air, or testing me. I can feel the shift in the space between us, the air growing thicker, charged. You’re so close now I can almost hear the rhythm of your breath matching mine, feel the heat of your skin barely brushing mine, though it’s still just a hair’s breadth away. And I should step away, create some distance, give myself a breath, some space to think, to recover. But instead, I stand frozen, my hand tightening around the champagne glass. The tension builds like a weight between us, and it takes everything in me not to let it break — not to close the gap between us and let the rawness of this moment crash down on me.  

"Tell me,"You inquire, voice low, teasing just enough to make my heart beat a little faster. "What’s stopping you?" The question hands like a pendulum that had been tiking overhead now frozen in place. I can’t tell if you’re genuinely curious, or if this is just another game you’re playing. But I know one thing for sure: whatever walls I’ve built around myself are cracking, crumbling with each breath I take, and you’re standing too close to the edge for me to keep pretending I’m in control. I can feel the space between us shrinking with every passing second, and all I can do is breathe, feel that damn perfume pulling me under, drowning me in a flood of emotions I haven’t allowed myself to touch in years. 

I feel the crack first — just a tiny shift inside me — and then another. The breath I’ve been holding tight in my chest slips out shakily, and before I can stop it, my lips part. “You... you’re too close.” But my words feel to much like a confession, to much like the truth I’m running from, the one I can’t name. I’m too damn close to the edge, too close to letting everything I’ve buried come to the surface.  

You don’t step back. Instead, you lean in just a little more, close enough that I can feel the heat of your breath on my skin, soft and steady. It's warm, like the press of sunlight against my neck, and it sends a shiver down my spine that I can’t control. The space between us now feels unbearable. My pulse is hammering in my chest, and my mind a blur of screaming at me to push you away, to pull you close and tangle my fingers in your hair and.... then my mind reminds me i need to maintain control, keep my composer. The world feels smaller now, a dizzying overstimulating world of soft lights and the sound of my own heartbeat thundering in my ears. And that scent — that goddamn intoxicating mix of coffee and almonds — fills the air between us like it was meant to drown me. 

You take a step closer leaning to my ear, your voice soft, low enough that it sends a shiver down my spine. “Wanna hear a secret?” The words are laced with something playful, but underneath, there’s something raw, something dangerous that pulls me in. 

I hesitate, instinctively wanting to stay on the defensive, but the way you’re looking at me—like you already know everything—makes it hard to pull away. “Sure,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, but it comes out rougher than I intended. You smile, a hint of mischief in your eyes, but there’s more beneath it. “I think about you. Not in the way of just a friend.” And suddenly the sound is muted as I try to process what you just said. My chest tightens, and I can feel my pulse quicken, blood rushing in my ears. You didn’t just say that. You couldn’t have. But your eyes are steady, unwavering, and I know I’m not imagining it. 

I try to mask it, try to bury the way the words affect me, but something stirs in the pit of my stomach. I force a laugh, leaning back slightly to put some distance between us, though it’s probably more for my own sake than anything else. “Like—what, as some kind of... hero figure?” I roll my eyes, trying to hide the fact that my heart’s suddenly thudding louder than it should. Her eyes flicker with something—amusement, maybe—but it’s gone so quickly, I wonder if I imagined it.  She hums in response her finger tracing a line down my tie. “I don’t think about you like that, Bobby." she says, and it feels like the earth shifts beneath my feet. She’s looking at me like she can see right through the walls I’ve built, and her gaze makes it impossible to look away. "I think about you in ways that make me want to peel that suit off you, inch by inch, slowly," she murmurs, her voice almost hypnotic, like each word is wrapping itself around me, drawing me in. 

"What?" I manage, my voice thick, like I’m choking on my own disbelief. 

““Not ripping. Not fumbling. Peeling. Slow. Precise. Like unwrapping something I’ve waited a long time to touch.” With each word, each breath of hers against my ears I feel my brain short circuit into nothing but Tv static. “I think about sliding my hands under the lapels of your suit jacket-” she says, voice low, calm, and unflinching. “Feeling how warm your chest is through the fabric of your shirt. And then pushing it off your shoulders... slow. Watching it fall to the floor, watching you let it fall, like you’ve stopped trying to hold yourself together.” and my throat goes dry.  

“Okay, I—” I start, a hand half-raised, as if I could physically stop the words. 

But you don't stop. “I think about the way you’d breathe, and how tense you’d be while I unbutton your shirt. Not all at once—one button at a time. I think about tracing the line down your chest as I go. I wonder how long you’d try to stay quiet. How long you’d pretend you weren’t coming undone.” 

“Jesus,” I whisper, almost to myself. 

She leans in again, close enough now that her voice curls against the side of my neck. “And the tie, Bobby. Don’t get me started on the tie.” I grip the champagne glass like it’s the only thing tethering me to gravity. My mouth opens—some protest half-formed, broken—but no words come. “Okay, I—” I try, raising a hand like I could physically block your words from sinking in. Like I could stop them from curling under my skin and planting roots. But your voice is low and relentless, slipping past my guard like smoke through cracks. 

“I think about what you’d look like with your jacket on the floor. Shirt hanging open. Tie abandoned on some marble ledge. Chest rising too fast, lips parted like you forgot how to breathe.” 

You’re not looking for permission. You’re delivering a confession. 

“And I think about tracing every inch of you with my hands before my mouth even gets involved,” you add, not blinking, not backing off. “Not rushed. Not greedy. Just... deliberate. So slow you’d hate me for it.” 

“You don’t mean that,” I say, hoarse. 

You blink once. “I do.” 

“I’m—” I gesture weakly, vaguely toward myself. “I’m not... easy. I’m not safe. I’m- I’m damaged goods.” 

“I’m not looking for safe.” you say. “I’m looking for real. I’ve had perfect,” you continue. “Polished, charming, forgettable. Men who knew how to say the right things and mean none of them. But you?” You tilt your head slightly, your voice barely above a whisper. “You walk into a room like the ceiling might fall at any second—and you’re ready to take it with you. That’s real.” 

I try to look away, but you don’t let me. You move to meet my eyes. Not crowding—closing. "I don’t want the man you pretend to be when you’re around people who want a symbol. I want this version—the one who doesn’t know how to hide when someone sees him.”  

I want to believe you. God, I do. You’re not asking me to be gentle. You’re not asking me to be soft. You’re not here for some pretty version of me I don’t even believe in anymore. 

You want the whole thing. The darkness. The tension. The ache. 

Me. 

Unraveled. 

And I don’t know what terrifies me more—how badly I want to run, or how much harder it is to move away than to stay right here... and let you keep going. “I know exactly what I’m asking for. I want your wreckage. I want the walls. I want the weight. I want the quiet moments when you forget to keep pretending.” A pause, then: “And if you let me? I’ll stay through all of it.” 

My fingers twitch. 

Because that’s the thing, isn’t it? 

You never looked away. 

Never flinched, not once.  

And I realize in that breath — that terrible, beautiful breath — that I’m tired of running. Tired of wearing the armor. Tired of pretending I don’t want what you’re offering me like salvation in a storm. 

So I break. 

The tension bleeds out of my shoulders first, like something I’ve held together too long is finally giving way. My jaw loosens. My spine slumps just slightly, like my body no longer remembers how to hold itself in battle-formation. I meet your gaze, and it’s like I’ve never really seen you before. Like this moment, right here, is the first time I’m actually, truly present. “I don’t know how to do this,” I say, my voice rough, strained. “I don’t know how to let someone stay.”  

“I don’t need you to have it figured out,” you say, your voice low, a quiet conviction in it that takes me by surprise. “I just need you to stop pretending you don’t want to.” 

And in that moment, I feel it. The last bit of resistance breaks away. I don’t need to be perfect. I don’t need to have it all under control. 

I just need to let you in.  

I step closer, just a little, as if I’m testing the ground beneath me. I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I don’t know if I’m ready to face whatever comes next. But I’m not running anymore. “You think you can handle it?” I ask, a challenge in my voice, even as my body betrays me, leaning in just slightly, drawn to you in a way I can’t deny anymore. 

You don’t hesitate. You don’t pull back.  You meet my gaze, steady, unflinching. There’s a shift in the air between us, an electric pull that I can’t ignore. You take a small step closer, not quite touching but close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off you. “Tell you what,” you say, your voice a low, teasing whisper that seems to wrap around me like a command, “Why don’t we leave this place? I think it’s time you find out if I can really handle it.” 

“Just... leave?” I repeat, trying to keep the words from coming out too raw. “What about Valentina? Wont she be mad?” I ramble out my eyes moving around the room to see if I could spot the woman.  “Valentina will survive. She’s had her turn at controlling the room. Tonight, it’s just you and me.” I want to argue. I want to tell you that it’s not that simple, that there are too many complications, too many risks. But the way you’re looking at me, the way your eyes hold mine, makes it hard to breathe, let alone form the words. “I...” My voice cracks, the last of my resistance crumbling. “Alright. Let’s go.” 

Before I can fully process the decision, you reach for my hand, your fingers slipping between mine with an ease that feels far too natural. It's a small thing, but it shifts something inside me, something that makes the world feel just a little less heavy. You don’t wait for me to follow; you just start moving, weaving through the crowd with a confidence that only fuels the rush building in my chest. People don’t seem to notice us—too wrapped up in their own little worlds, their perfect façades, while you drag me past them like a ghost in the night. 

I can feel the brush of fabric against my arm, the subtle pressure of your hand around mine, but I don’t let go. I don’t even want to. Each step you take pulls me closer, away from the suffocating gaze of this place, away from everything that’s held me here for so long. You squeeze my hand once, turning to glance back at me, a slight smile on your lips. “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

I don’t answer immediately, but the grin tugging at my lips says more than enough. For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m standing on the edge of some cliff, ready to fall. I feel like I’m finally walking into something real. 

★·.·´¯`·.·★ 

The elevator doors slide shut behind us, the soft chime marking the beginning of the quiet ride up. We stand side by side, but it doesn’t feel like there’s any space between us. The air is thick with that pull I can’t ignore, the weight of the moment settling in with each passing floor. The hum of the elevator is the only sound in the stillness, the steady rhythm of the ascent syncing with the quickening beat of my heart. I try to focus on something—anything—but my thoughts are tangled, caught in the way you’re standing so effortlessly beside me, the way your gaze occasionally flickers over to me, like you’re waiting, daring me to make the next move. 

The silence lingers, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s the kind of silence that builds something between two people—something undeniable, something already formed without either of us saying a word. You’re the one to break it, your voice low and smooth, threading through the space between us like a promise. “You sure about this?” It’s not a question I wasn’t expecting, but something in the way you ask it makes it feel less like a question and more like an invitation. Like you’re not asking if I’m ready—you’re asking if I’m willing to let go of whatever’s holding me back. 

I glance at you, meeting your eyes for the first time since the ballroom. It’s an open challenge, an invitation of my own. “Yeah,” I say, the word coming out steady, almost as if I’ve known the answer all along. “I’m sure.” The elevator reaches our floor, the soft chime marking the end of the ride. The doors open, and the cool air of the hallway hits me, but it feels like we’re still standing in that small space together. You take a step forward, your movement fluid, confident. Without a word, your hand brushes against mine—just enough to send a jolt through me. 

And I follow. 

There’s no hesitation in my steps, no second-guessing. I don’t even have to think about it. It’s as if the pull between us is magnetic, undeniably like they were about to fill some sort of prophecy that was etched long ago in the stars. The hallway stretches out before us, but it feels like we’re moving in a world of our own, where everything else fades into the background, leaving just the sound of our footsteps echoing softly. 

The door to your room comes into view, and the space between us feels impossibly small now. We don’t speak, don’t need to. There’s a language between us, unspoken but loud enough to drown out everything else. Every movement is deliberate. Every breath we share is measured, like we’re both holding onto the edge of something we can’t take back. You stop in front of the door, your hand reaching for the handle, but before it turns, you glance back at me—just a quick look, a flicker of something burning behind your eyes. It’s everything unsaid, everything we’ve been tiptoeing around. The room is closed now, its quiet promise right in front of us. You don’t make me wait long, the door swinging open with a soft creak that feels too loud in the heavy silence. 

Inside, the space is dim, lit only by the warm, inviting glow of the lamps. It’s a place that feels both intimate and detached, like a world that’s waiting for us to make it ours. I step inside after you, the air heavier now, thicker, but it doesn’t feel suffocating. It feels like the last breath before the plunge. The door clicks shut behind us, and for a moment, the world outside is shut out entirely. There’s nothing left but this room and the quiet hum of our shared space. You move toward me, and every step you take only closes the distance, pulling me in without hesitation, without words. The world outside, the chaos of the night, all of it fades until it’s just the two of us in this moment, in this room where nothing exists but the heavy promise of what’s to come. 

I reach out, my hand trembling just slightly as I brush a strand of hair behind your ear. It's a small gesture, but my fingers linger, grazing the warmth of your skin. My pulse spikes. I don’t wait for you to make the next move. I can’t. The instinct to bridge that final gap is too strong. I close the space, step forward, and let everything else slip away. 

Tentative. Cautious. It’s slow—too slow, like I’m testing the waters, afraid to dive in. I don’t even know why. I’ve kissed people before, but this... this feels different. Feels like every part of me that’s been locked away for so long is suddenly standing on the edge, begging to be set free.  I feel your breath against me, the slight hesitation in the way you lean into it, too. But even in that uncertainty, there’s something raw between us, something that makes the simple touch of your lips feel like the beginning of everything. I pull back for a second, breathless, but your gaze keeps me anchored. You’re not pushing me away. Your eyes don’t flicker with uncertainty; they just stay there steady. And that’s enough. Enough to shatter whatever restraint I had left. 

I lean in again, and this time it’s deeper. More urgent. My lips are still unsure at first, hesitant in a way that feels too raw. But as soon as I feel the warmth of your mouth, the softness of your lips under mine, I know I can’t hold back anymore. The floodgates open. I’m pulling you closer, my hands now on your waist, feeling the shape of you against me, like I need to remind myself you’re real, that you’re here. The kiss deepens, and there’s a desperation in it that surprises me. I feel the edges of my control slipping away, the walls I’ve built—brick by brick, year after year—crumbling in an instant. My head is swimming with everything I’ve been holding in. The ache in my chest, the heaviness of all the things I’ve kept buried, it’s all surfacing now, and I can’t stop it. 

And you—God, you’re pulling me deeper, too. There’s no hesitation in your hands, no pulling away. You’re here, letting me unravel. I press into you more, letting the kiss speak for all the things I can’t put into words. My hand slides up to your neck, cupping it gently, but I feel the tremor in my touch. There’s a piece of me still clinging to the fear that this is too much, that you’ll see everything I’ve buried and walk away. But your hands are on me, steady, and that fear starts to feel smaller, more distant, like something I don’t have the space to hold onto anymore. 

And I don’t want to. 

I want this. I want you. I want to fall apart in this kiss, and I want you to see all the jagged edges of me. Every fractured part. And in this moment, it’s not about control anymore. It's about surrender. I don’t know if I can ever truly be the man you deserve, but right now, all I can give is this—every raw, unguarded piece of me that you’re pulling out with movement of you velvet lips. 

I don’t pull back. I can’t. Every inch of me is drawn to you, tethered to the heat of your skin and the weight of your touch. The kiss deepens, becoming less hesitant, more frantic—an uncontrollable tide pulling us both under. I feel the burn of your lips, the gentle pressure of your body against mine, and I want more. I find myself moving against you with an urgency, but it’s not just hunger—it’s something deeper, something sacred. Your mouth against mine is a prayer, a plea, and as I breathe you in, I realize I’m not just kissing you; I’m adoring you.  

My hands trace the lines of your body, not with urgency, but with awe, as if your skin is the most precious thing I’ve ever touched. Every curve, every inch of you feels like a revelation, and I want to memorize it, to cherish it in a way I never have before. I don’t need to be in control right now. I don’t even care. I’m lost in you, in the way you feel beneath my fingers, in the way your breath hitches when I get too close. You’re more than beautiful. You’re everything. Every inch of you a masterpiece. Slowly, my thumb traces the curve of your waist, light, almost teasing. But I’m not teasing you. I’m taking my time to savor every inch of you, to appreciate what I’ve only ever dreamed of. I want to do this right. I want to remember how you feel, how you smell, how your heartbeat matches mine when I lean just a little closer. 

I bring my lips to the delicate skin of your neck. It’s slow, delicate and the feeling of your pulse under my mouth is intoxicating sending my head into a thicker fog of desire. I let the kiss linger, my lips tracing your skin as though I’m studying it, learning it, memorizing every detail, every mole, every freckle, every scar, every perfect imperfection was his. The air between us feels thick, heavy, as if the world has narrowed to just this. Just you. Just us. I can feel the weight of everything in the way you respond, your breath shallow, the subtle way your body moves closer to mine without saying a word. 

My hand moves slowly, almost reverently, over your skin, as though I’m afraid that if I rush, I might ruin something delicate between us. “Are you sure?” The question escapes before I can stop it. It’s quiet, barely a whisper, but it holds weight. I need to know you’re here with me, that this isn’t just a fleeting thing. I need to be certain. You don’t answer with words. Instead, you lean forward, your lips brushing mine just once, the touch so soft it’s almost a question in itself. And I feel my heart stutter, like it’s about to stop, like I’m holding my breath and waiting for it all to make sense. You’re giving me permission, not in grand gestures, but in the quiet intimacy of this moment.  

Your hand slips under my suit jacket, tracing down the muscles to my stomach as you clumsily fumble with the buttons. Letting out a flustered sigh as you tugged at them trying to free me from the growing cage of heat. “Fuck it-” you groan against my lips pulling on them till they popped off the treads before slipping it down my shoulders. I breathe out a sigh of relief as the jacket flops to the ground. “That was a rental you know-” I mumble nipping your lower lip.  

I feel you shrug before my hands moved to the back of your dress, my hands following the smooth fabric till my fingertips met the smooth skin of your back, my lips moved to press feather light kisses along your jawline. As my other hand slowly went to move the sleeve off your left shoulder. The new sight of skin to be claimed sending a wave of heat to wash over my body and pool in my stomach like sticky honey. 

“Take this off~” I plead through a halfway moan and whisper. “Please I need to see you-” I whispered in desperation as my fingers began to trace over your spine. “All of you.” I whisper as I began to sink to my knees, my head craning to look up at you through adoring desperate half lidded eyes. Slowly your lips curl into a sly smile. “How badly do you want me?” Your voice a low purr as your fingers traced the other strap playing with the blue fabric before slowly slipping it halfway down your shoulder. 

My hands begin to smooth up your legs to wrap around your hips, as I lean forward pressing my lips into the fabric right under her stomach at her waist shaking my head. “I don't want you-” I admitted as my eyes flicking back up,  now swimming in a sweet darkness. “I need you… in a way that transcends everything. You are divine, a force of nature, and oh god I am yours—a humble acolyte. I want to worship you, adore you with every fiber of my being, to serve you in ways that words could never capture. I long to be lost in your touch, to be enveloped in the sacredness of your presence. My devotion, My everything. Allow me to bask in your light.”

And you did.

[hortensius]

Labyrinth

Dear readers,

what follows is a written piece that belongs to a collection of short stories about memory ghosts I'm working on (alongside a novel about Caelius and the ghost of Catullus). I will not publish them on this blog, but I wanted to give you a preview nonetheless. Enjoy!

------------------------------------------------------

The music box is open.

difficilest longum subito deponere amorem...

Catullus burns. He wanders around aimlessly, feverishly, every fiber of his being consumed by an illness time cannot cure. No matter how many times he swears it is over: it never is. Her scorching black eyes haunt him still. Will he ever be free? A hollow question, obviously, for he knows very well what the answer is. Memory leaves no escape.

He finds himself standing at the marble steps of the Library. He climbs them, swaying like a drunk; not that he wants to read — he could not, not right now, but that place is where their reality feels more solid, and that for him is enough. He drags himself into one of the reading rooms, one that looks empty, then collapses on the floor with his back against a shelf and lets out a long scream of frustration. It does not help. He breathes in to try again, but out of the corner of his eye he spots something that turns his shout into a cough fit.

He is not alone.

He turns his head properly; sitting at one of the tables, seemingly undisturbed, there is an old man. He is hunched over a blank tablet, as still as stone: even his eyes are frozen in an unnatural stare, as though they were made of glass, so much you could very well mistake him for a lifeless statue. Catullus recognizes him as one of the poets who came after him, one whose work he has not had the time – or, rather, the lucidity – to read yet. His name is...what was it again? He cannot remember it. He rubs his eyes and recollects his thoughts for a moment: still nothing. He cannot bring himself to care.

Suddenly, Catullus feels a shiver run fast through his limbs; why is the room so cold? He turns his head again, this time to find the man staring at him, his deep black eyes fixed on the bare spot between neck and collarbone where his skin must be mottled with bruises and teeth marks. He suddenly feels very aware of the state he is in, and very ill too.

“What are you staring at, old man?” Catullus snaps, then adds, sneering as cruelly as he can, “jealous no one does this to you anymore?”

The poet shrugs, impassible, and returns to his tablet without a word. Catullus studies him for a moment: he must have been a handsome man once, but he looks terrible now. It is not the age, or the untidiness, or the pallor of death — no. He is clad in misery. Drenched in it to the marrow of his bones. The recognition shoots a sick gush of pleasure through Catullus’ guts.

“Is this all your great golden age has to offer,” he taunts, his voice grating, “querulous wimps and sad old wrecks?”

Misery upon misery. Fuck, he hopes he will hit him. Hard. He does not, though; the man’s weary brow frowns, but, to the poet’s horror, the look in his sorrowful eyes is gentle. Pity.

“You must be Catullus,” he says, in a sweet, musical voice that contrasts sharply with that wretched form. Catullus suddenly feels sick. He tries to think of something fouler to add, but cannot.

“Do you need help?”

His voice feels like dense honey. Too much. Catullus finds himself unable to meet his eyes. He is shaking. As soon as he gathers the strength to snap out of that strange stupor, he turns around and leaves the reading room without a word. Now in the main hall, he looks back: The old poet keeps his weary eyes on the door for a while, then he lowers them on the tablet and once again becomes as still as stone.

****

The next time Catullus enters the library, he is looking for refuge again; he might be less disheveled and less frantic than the previous time, but he feels no less miserable. No matter how hard he tries to resist: one stolen kiss — or less: a shadow of touch, the sweet echo of whispers long gone...any of this is enough for him to yield. There is no way out and he knows it. He hopes he can find comfort — no, he is far beyond that: it is oblivion he seeks from books; losing himself in someone else’s voice is the only relief he can hope for.

He finds himself taking shelter in Sappho’s verse, like countless times before. With the folds of his cloak heavy with slender volumes, he enters the only reading room he sees empty, the one he stumbled in the previous time; as soon as he moves closer to the table, though, he realizes his eyes must have tricked him: sitting there, as dusty and unkempt as the last time he saw him, that miserable old man stares at the same blank tablet, the stylus still unmoved in his hand. Has he moved at all? It certainly looks like he has not. An eerie sense of subtle dread fills Catullus’ limbs: he steps back, ready to leave, but a honey-thick voice traps him on the spot.

“Do you need help?”

Catullus stands still for a moment, numb; as soon as those words seep in, though, he feels anger swell hot in his chest. “Mind your business, cunt,” he barks, his voice shaking slightly.

The poet, apparently unbothered by Catullus’ tone, puts the stylus down and leans closer, slowly, his fingers linked under his chin. There is something attentive in his look now.

“It is love, isn’t it? I can help.”

Catullus blinks in utter disbelief, his breath caught in his throat. How dare he? Does he not know who he is talking to? What could this wreck of a man know about love that he himself does not? “You look like misery personified,” he says, at last, with distaste. “What help could ever come from such a wretched place?”

The other man remains silent for a long moment, then tilts his head to the side and smiles.

“This can change.”

His eyes are unnervingly deep. A spark of something too elusive to be caught flickers beneath the surface, like the illusion of gold in a well. Catullus feebly realizes he is holding his breath: the man has his intense gaze fixed upon him now, an ardent curiosity in it; he leans expectantly, as though he were eager for him to say something. Again, it is too much: as soon as Catullus forces himself to turn away, he once again leaves the room without a word. This time he does not look back; yet he swears, with a chill, he can hear the faint scratch of a stylus on wax.

****

It is easy to forget why it hurts, Catullus thinks in a daze, so easy to lose himself to that cruel touch — is it hers? Whose teeth are biting his lips? Whose memory is it? It does not matter: yielding is sweet. But this twisted illusion of love fades as swift as dreams in the harsh morning sun; the hollow void it leaves behind grows every time deeper and hungrier, every time it drags him back to her wanting arms. This is how memory remembers him: there is no other way this story ends.

Books cannot soothe him, friends cannot help him; pain turns into desperate rage and soon he finds himself alone. He wanders around like a shadow of himself, forgetful of what else can make him real; he feels himself drowning in an endless repetition, his own lament sung again and again. Countless voices throughout time breathe life in love and hate alike; the Lesbia he has loved above all is the memory he clings to, the shadow of that love the sickness he will never heal himself from.

Do you need help, Catullus? The honeyed echo of that voice coils deep in his chest, waiting. He is far beyond help, he knows this for sure; yet the allure of it draws him closer, a siren’s call. Memory blurs our edges – he thinks, walking through the tall rows of bookcases in the poets’ room – it mixes them and twines them past the point of no return. Perhaps that is the threshold he needs to cross. He stops. The letters on the shelf’s tag spell a name – he remembers it now – bright red on candid bone: Publius Ovidius Naso. He closes his eyes and feels himself shudder: I do.

He hears his own voice dance on neat, polished lines whose elegance oozes a sly cleverness, smooth like a sweet caress; it is witty and sensual and fun: but the more he goes on, the more it is clear something lurks underneath, an illusory shimmer that catches the eye but refuses to be caught. He reads more and more, on and on, his heart hammers fast in his ears; he is far too sharp not to see through it: he has entered a labyrinth, and he is an Ariadne without a thread. It is too late to go back now. His hands are shaking, his mouth feels dry. It is not help he is offering, oh no: the spider’s web gleams clear in the sun.

He walks into that room once again; the air is now thick and heavy like that of a summer in Rome. This time, the poet’s frozen head snaps up as soon as Catullus steps in: his eyes gleam with an eagerness so intense it almost looks desperate. He folds his tablet closed and sets the stylus down beside it.

“Do you need help?”

Catullus closes his eyes and holds his breath.

“Do you?”

For a moment, Ovid goes very still, a confused frown creases his brow, as though he were not expecting to hear those words; for a moment, a look of endless sorrow crosses his face: just a moment, then fades. Slowly, unsettling, his lips curl into a sly smile.

“You read me.”

Catullus nods silently.

“Then you know…”

“I do.”

Ovid’s deep black eyes are burning now, ardent and beautiful; with the apparent languidness of a snake in the sun, he finally moves to stand up. A change as impalpable as rainbow mist runs through his form, uncanny: his old wretched appearance melts back into a flowering prime and the rough lines of age soften into a handsome timeless brow. He stretches out his hand: an offering.

Catullus takes it.

[thebumblingbookbee]

Kit x Ty College AU (another snippet of WIP)

Ty POV

Ty felt sort of weightless as he bounced up and down on his tip toes, a habit his uncle had done his best discourage by always tapping the top of Ty's head harder and harder until Ty would stop. But it didn't matter now that Arthur wasn't here. He was in Kit's shared uni kitchen waiting for him to return from his bedroom with some sort of surprise for Ty, he claimed it wasn't anything big at all and Ty shouldn't get excited but Ty strongly disagreed.

To distract himself from how long Kit was taking Ty glanced around the kitchen. It was pretty decently clean for a kitchen shared by six twenty-somethings. The dishes were mostly done and drying on the rack, just a few mugs left in the sink. The crumbs of some toast on an otherwise clean countertop. It was however a little cluttered with mementos and ornaments with everyone trying to make space for themselves. An expensive coffee machine, vase of flowers, various textbooks and a deck of cards overwhelmed most of the counter space. He smiled at the photo he had never noticed of himself and Kit on Julian's birthday the month before, photo Ty smiled back wider than Ty had been aware he could smile, a blush covering his cheeks. Kit looked equally happy having just snuck a kiss to Ty's cheek the moment before the click.

He moved his feet down to relax and rest on his heels and walked forward to take a closer look at the photo wondering when Kit had gotten it off Emma and when he had printed it. He made a mental note to ask and clicked the pen in his pocket several times.

"Okay okay sorry!!" Kit shouted as he walked into the kitchen holding a large shoebox. "I couldn't find the ones I got when Mina and I went to the park last week remember? But she's been helping me collect them so she spotted them so if you like them it's her you have to thank really" he cut himself off with a sharp laugh that sounded nothing like his real one and more like a seal. Ty just looked at him waiting to hear what he was going to say to explain why he was so nervous. "Um....I found them anyway I had left them in my jacket pocket....". He then placed the shoebox down on top of Ash's drama textbook, Ty wondered what that contained what sort of homework did a drama student get? But he shoved that thought to the side quickly as he took in the box in front of him.

It was filled with rocks. Ty clicked his pen in his pocket faster and tried to control his breathing.

Kit was already talking again, faster than Ty could quite catch in his excitement but the tone of increasing panic did register. He looked back up at Kit to find that he was not looking at him and was instead staring down at the rocks like they had done him wrong. "If you think it's weird I totally get that Josh said it was fucking bizzare to collect rocks to give to someone-". Ty cut him off "I don't like Josh." Kit stayed silent and blinked at him in confusion "um okay?" He said it like a question with the inflection at the end but Ty didn't want to explain now so he deflected and said firmly "I do not think it is weird." Gesturing to the rocks with his left hand, and reaching in to pick up the purple one ran through with gleaming white like marble. He swayed gently as he admired it, turning it over in his hand and squeezing it at different angles to find the most pleasing way to hold it. He glanced up for a moment to see Kit watching him with his eyes dazed and his mouth just slightly open, he loved catching Kit looking at him like that. Not that Kit was ever trying to hide it, even now as Ty caught him Kit just switched to a soft pleased smile. He didn't speak so Ty asked "Why did you do this?" He felt a bolt of panic dart through that his choice of words might be rude and rushed to clarify "I really like them they are beautiful but I want to know why".

Kit laughed lightly at him shaking his head in what Ty assumed since it was Kit was light hearted amusement and said "I saw you had loads of them lined up along your windowsill at your sister's place when we were there at Christmas. The light was shining in the window on them and I remember thinking how they were all so lovely and unique. After that I kept seeing all these beautiful rocks or stones everywhere and thinking to myself that it might make you happy and then I couldn't stop myself picking it up." He shrugged as he finished speaking as if he had said some casual and completely ordinary.

Ty swallowed thickly. Blinking down at the rocks, of various sizes, shapes and colours. "You just thought I would think they were pretty? So you kept them? Mina was helping you with this? You've been doing this since Christmas?" His questions rushed out of him like demands but he knew Kit would understand. He squeezed the rock in his palm tight opening and closing his fist. "Why?"

Kit beamed at him his cheeks turning a soft rosy pink that made Ty want to reach out and trace his finger along his cheek.

"Because I love you" Kit answered as if it explained everything. "And like I said Mina did help and actually I think she is waiting to hear what you think of them" he laughed. Breathing out a deep breath Ty grinned back at him. He felt like he was weightless.

[crowandmousewritingco]

Crimes Against Each Other

Pairing: Dio x trans!reader

Words: 2.9 k

Rating: M (18+ MDNI)

Summary: You wronged Dio, but was it all your fault?

Warnings: Blackmail, stabbing, inaccurate court room proceedings (I tried my best) implied abuse (off screen) smut city, male terms for genitalia (cock, and dick), praise and degradations, use of the term "sir," swearing.

Author: Mod Mouse

Notes: This is my second entry in the Roll-A-Trope put on by the lovely @burntheedges. I struggled a little with this one, but I liked how it turned out! This time is was enemies to lovers (a personal favorite on mine.)

To say that Dio hated you was an understatement. You were a rat in his eyes, someone who was willing to use him as a scapegoat for whatever scheme you had going on. Dio had trusted you telling you secrets that only he knew, and he was actually feeling an attachment to you. But then you had the audacity to tell the police that he was guilty of the accused crimes. When he was dragged off in handcuffs outside the hotel that night, he saw you talking to the brown haired police officer and pointing in Dio's direction. So there was no denying your accusation. 

His anger seethed as he paced in his holding cells, rage rolling over him in vicious waves. The guard had already warned him several times about kicking the bench, but he didn’t care. He was angry and he was gonna let everyone know about it. That earned him a nice shiner and a few bruised ribs, but that didn’t hurt nearly as much as your betrayal. He didn’t want to admit how much he liked you, but that bridge had burned that night leaving anger in the hole in his heart where you once resided. 

Dio kept his anger seething until the day of his trial. The fire in his eyes was evident as he stared ahead, led by two officers down the bright white hallways of the holding cells. It was only a short walk before they entered the nice marbled building of the court house. They sat him down by his table unclasping the handcuffs behind his back before re-cuffing his hands in his lap. Both lawyers made their way into their respective areas. Dio’s attorney briefed him on his case, and he nodded understanding the explanation. As he waited for the judge to arrive, he took a quick look around the room seeing all the familiar faces in the crowd. His eyes squinted when he saw you, but something stirred in him when he saw the state you were in. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reader POV

You squeezed your hands in your lap to keep yourself from shaking. Terrified wouldn’t even scratch the surface on how you felt. You were so anxious you barely paid attention as the court proceedings began with opening statements. Each lawyer brought several witnesses up to give their statements to the jury. But you didn’t hear a word. You only tuned in what Raven gave her testimony, but even then you didn’t want to hear what she had to say. Her voice made you flinch with every word. 

Soon though you would get a moment's respite when the judge calls for a recess. You follow the crowd out to the hallway. A phone. That’s what you need right now. You tried to stay calm as you scoured the hallway for a sign of that metal box. It wasn’t long until your eyes landed on the red lettering and you weaved your way through the bodies, hurrying to claim it before someone else had a chance. 

Shakily you took the quarters out of your pocket and one at a time put them in the coin slot under the number pad with a clang. You took a deep breath as you held the receiver to your ear and dialed the one person you could count on, muscle memory kicking in as you pressed the numbers.  It took a few rings before the familiar voice rang through. “Hello?” 

You sniffled. “H-Hi mom.” Tears began to blur your vision and you quickly wiped them away. 

“Oh hun what’s wrong?” She asked her soothing voice to help calm your nerves. 

“D-Do you ever have to do things you don’t want to do but you have to do it because you love the person?” You asked, twirling the cord between your fingers. 

“What happened hun?” She asked you, the maternal concern lacing her words.

And you couldn’t hide anything from your mother. “I-I had to rat on my friends.” Your voice shook as you confessed in the bustle of the hallway. “They didn’t do anything wrong. I…I went out with a police officer for a bit but he was an asshole and wouldn’t let me go and told me that if I didn’t help him as an informant then…” 

“Honey, you need to tell them what happened. Where are you?” 

“I can't, it's too late. I’m at the trial now. We’ve recessed, I can't…” You teared up feeling the immense weight of the situation on your shoulders. 

“Then there’s still time. I believe in you. You're my kid after all.” Mom encouraged you. The strength you got from your mother was something you always admired. 

You took a deep breath letting the soothing sounds of your mother’s voice wash over you. “Thanks mom.” 

“Now go get em tiger.” She replied and you hung up the receiver. 

You sighed leaning your head on the cool metal, letting yourself calm down before you had to go back into that stuffy room. It was cut short when you heard a voice. “You didn’t wanna rat us out huh?” 

The sudden voice made you jump and you looked over at the mystery voice. Dio had stepped away from the police officers flanking him, leaning against the marbled wall. You glanced down at the scuffed handcuffs and you started tearing up again. “N-No Dee–Dio. I’m sorry.” 

Dio silently stood up and walked over to you, his platform books clunking against the tile. He went to speak, going to gesture at you when you flinched back, memories of your ex flashing in your mind. Dio paused looking at his hand then back to you before looking back at his tattooed palm. Confusion filled him as both the betrayal was fresh in his mind, but his memories of affection still reacted at your flinch, “Who hurt you?” 

“N-No one.” You replied as you straighten your back. 

“Bullshit, people don’t just flinch like that,” Dio replied with an odd sense of calm. 

You bite your lips as you cast your eyes down, unable to make eye contact. Tears now flowed down your cheeks in a small river. 

Ringed fingers gently lift your chin to meet Dio’s dark eyes. “I won’t be mad.” 

Few moments ticked by before you answer. “I dated the wrong guy, and now…now I have to be an informant for the police.” 

Dio opened his mouth to speak when the officer alerted them to return to the courtroom. “There seems to be a story there. I’ll tell my lawyers what you told me, and all you do is tell the truth on the stand.” He stated holding your gaze in his dark eyes for a few more beats before turning around letting himself be escorted back. You stood there a few seconds longer, taking deep breaths before you followed suit. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You may take the stand now,” The judge ordered as you stood from your place in the audience. With your eyes forward you strode forward with your head held high trying to make yourself as confident as you could. But inside you were shaking like a leaf. With fists clenched at your side, you stepped up the stairs to the witness stand. 

Once you had been sworn in and sat down in your seat as the sleazy prosecutor approached the witness stand. “Were you present the night of the stabbing?” 

“Yes,” You answer simply. 

“Can you tell us what happened that night?” He asked, leaning against the bannister. 

You took a deep breath and glanced over at Dio who with the subtlest nods urged you on. With that bout of encouragement you continued. “We were at a party, just me, Dio, Raven, X and Alex. Dio was not the one to stab him.”

A low mumble ran through the crowd as the truth came out. The lawyer paused and looked back at you. “Is that the truth?” 

“It is.” 

“Then why is that different from the story you told the cops?” The lawyer asked, trying to intimidate you. 

But you weren’t scared of him. He wasn’t the scary one right now. “I-I was blackmailed into becoming an informant for the police.” 

“Objection, I don’t think the witness is of sane mind.” The prosecutor accused as he approached the bench. 

“I am of sane mind, your honor.” You replied, staring down the lawyer.

The judge glanced between the two of you. “Objection overruled. Not relevant to this case. Please continue with your statement.” 

“Thank you. I had been dating one of the officers a few months back, but when he became increasingly violent with me, I left him. But he didn’t really like that so he blackmailed me with some…not so savory pictures of me. If I didn’t get him this information he would release them to everyone I knew.” You admitted as a tear streamed down your cheek. 

The crowd murmured once again before the judge brought his gavel down again. “Order!” The judge gazed down at you. “Can you name the officer who did this to you?” 

You looked up at the judge before surveying the crowd. “I-It was Officer Ryan. I have voicemails he sent me threatening me. I saved them if anything were to happen to me.” 

A figure in the crowd stood up and pointed at the bench. “You lying bitch! I never fucking did that you cunt!” A weight formed on your shoulders as the nights of screaming came back into your mind, his words bite into your spirit once again. Security was quick and grabbed his arms, dragging him out of the courtroom. A shaky breath escaped your lips as the room returned to normal. 

The sleazy lawyer rubbed his temples. “No further questions, Your Honor.” 

The defense attorney took to the floor and asked. “Why exactly would Officer Ryan want to know information about this crime?” 

“He was Raven’s drug dealer. After Raven realized Dio didn’t want to be anything serious, she went into a bit of a spiral. And being the manipulative man Ryan was, he convinced her that Dio and me were the bad guys and sought revenge. Raven was a way to get back at me.” 

“Why Raven?” He asked, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“We’ve been best friends since high school. He knew we were close and that I was spending more time with Dio than she was. She was the perfect candidate for hurting me.” 

“With this new information, can you tell us exactly what happened that night?” The lawyer asked. 

You nodded as you started your tale. “We were hanging out in the hotel room that night around 9 that night. We were drinking together and sharing a pack of cigs for the group. Just one of our standard hang out parties. I never was much of a drinker so I was a lot more sober than the rest of the group. 

“Everything was chill until Alex started making moves on Raven. Now at this point Dio had told Raven that he didn’t want anything serious with her so she was in a rough spot. So we were just handing out when Alex tried to hit on her. I think that’s what broke the camel’s back. When he went to put his arm around her shoulders she whipped out her knife and stabbed him. 

“Of course we were all scared and when I screamed she whipped around with the knife pointed at me. She screamed about how I’ll pay for this. By then Dio grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the hotel room. But when we got to the lobby, police were already there and arrested him.I tried to run away but Ryan dragged me outside so when the actual police arrived it made it look like a legitimate arrest.” 

When you finished your story, the court room was silent and you wished for the earlier ruckus. The judge was the one to break the silence. “Court will recess for three days.” He hit the gavel and stood from his stand. 

The crowd started to disperse and you stayed on the stand staring out at the mingling crowd. A cocktail of emotions flooded your brain. Relief to finally have that off of your chest, but at the same time dread from what the future might hold. Those thoughts spirled in your head so much that you didn’t notice Dio once again approaching you. “Seems like you could use some cheap ass Chinese food.” 

You chuckled and you made your way down from the stand. “You know me too well.” 

Dio smirked and together you walked out of the courtroom. You hoped your nerves would calm down with a full stomach. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With stomachs full of greasy food, and an agonizing long walk you stood together in front of Dio’s studio apartment. The awkwardness still hung between you despite the dinner conversation. How desperately you wanted things to go back to what they were before the terrible events. You picked at your fingernails until you gained the courage to speak. 

“Look I’m-” 

“Come up to my apartment,” Dio interrupted as he turned to unlock the door, not saying another word.

You followed him silently up the creaky staircase that led to a door with peeling red paint. With the lock undone he pushed into his apartment and you followed him inside. As soon as the door was closed behind you, Dio pushed you against the wood giving you no time to speak before he kissed you with passion you’d never felt before. Of course you were caught off guard, but you came back to senses and kissed him back with equal force. 

“I’m sorry,” You whispered against his lips. 

Gently but with enough pressure he grabbed your chin forcing your eyes to meet his. “Look what you did hurt me,” He answered bluntly, and you tried to drop your gaze from his piercing eyes. “But the hurt was different from other pains I’ve experienced. You’re my fucking kryoponite.” He softly growled. 

Confusion filled your head. “W-What do you mean?” 

He chuckled softly and shook his head. “I’m in fucking love with you. Even after all this shit. It hurt more because I care about you.” 

“But–” You started and Dio covered your mouth with his ringed hand. 

You squinted in annoyance but he smirked. “There’s the attitude I love.” He removed his hand and began kissing you quickly and passionately. And you happily returned the energy. You loved him too, and you hated having to do what you had to do. 

Dio pulled you into his living room without breaking the kiss. With a light shove, you fell back on the worn cushion with a little bounce, though you weren’t alone for long. Dio climbed on top of you taking your lips in his once again. 

Your fingers found his curly hair and as you kissed him you gave them a tug earning a moan from Dio. “Good fucking boy.” He growled. His praise shot straight to your dick. 

“Fuck Dio I need you so fucking badly.” You moaned and Dio gently wrapped his long fingers around your neck. 

“That’s not my fucking name.” He smirked. 

You swallowed feeling the pressure against your neck. “Sir.” 

“Good little slut.” He growled and released your neck. 

Stars danced in your vision as the blood flowed back to your head. You only came back to your body as you felt the chill of Dio’s rings on your stomach. Shivers course through your body as he dipped his fingers into your pants. You gasp as his fingers expertly stroke your cock. 

“Fuck Sir,” You throw your head back against the cushion. Dio’s fingers played with all the sensitive areas sending you quickly to your orgasm. 

“I’ve waited too long to see you writhe on my fingers.” Dio purred and he didn’t stop as electricity surged through your body as you came. Legs shook as Dio never let up on his movements. Instead he sped up, sending you into an overstimulating high. Words escaped you as your brain was filled with endorphins. 

You weren’t sure how many times you had cum for Dio but eventually he let up, pulling his fingers from your pants. He smirks and hungrily licks your arousal from each finger savoring the taste. “Fucking hell you taste downright sinful.” 

Blush dusted your cheeks and you covered your face. “Don’t say shit like that.” 

“Why? Afraid you might like it?” He teased and you pulled him down on top of you. Dio chuckled as you kissed him though this time softer. 

The two of you stayed like that for a long while, kissing and just enjoying the touch of each other once again. 

You broke off gently kissing his cheek. “So what does this make us?” 

Dio smirked. “Were the orgasms not enough of an answer?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Sorry my thought process was a little stunted. Spell it out for me.” 

“I want to be your boyfriend. I almost lost you today and I’ll be damned if that happens again,” He answered, kissing your wrist. 

“Even after everything?” 

“You got up there and told off that son of a bitch. You ain’t some drone. You’re a tough guy and I like that about you.” 

“I love you Dee Dee,” You whispered gently, kissing his forehead. 

“I love you too,” He blushed and nuzzled his nose into your neck. Together you laid there cuddling like you were the only two people in the world. The trial could wait a few more days. What mattered was that you were Dio’s and you loved that.

```````

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[mxgalodon]

The sounds of the cheering crowd of the Nitro Drome roared as I climbed atop my Behemoth to reguard my people with a grandiose wave of my arms and a bright smile.

"AND THERE WE HAVE IT, FOLKS! OUR FIRST EVER NITRO DROME CHAMPION, MEGALO DON!"

The crowd's cheers turned to screams, accentuated by a rattling of noisemakers made of bottles and cans. My people stomped their feet excitedly, the force shaking the very foundation of the stadium itself. Gouts of fire flashed past me, briefly shifting the desert's cool night air into that of a summer noon heat in irregular rhythms. The saw blades at the center of the statium screetched as they ground against each other, throwing sparks. The lights were all on me, their sights were all on me, all the noise was for me.

I swallowed down the feeling of my chest tightening. I don't know what it was. I wanted to hide. But I had to stay, I had to stay. Just a little longer, just through Scarr's closing speech. Then I could go. I could hide. I could curl up where no one could see me. I could nestle in the glorious silence. I could breathe. I could hide.

Glancing up to the Ringmaster's box, I tried to make out the shape of Scarr through the dust and lights. Some form of familiarity, something to focus on to drag me through the rest of this. I couldn't find her. I knew she was there, but no matter how hard I looked, I couldn't see. The lights burned my eyes. Dust made it hard to blink.

As I lowered my arms, I tried to level my gaze to the horizon. Or, well... where I guessed the horizon was. The walls of the arena got in the way. That tightness in my chest wouldn't go away. It wasn't getting any easier to breathe. Not that I could let it show...

In the distance, I heard Scarr's voice over the loudspeakers. Couldn't make out the words. The noise, the cheers, the fire and blades...

A moment later, the fire suddenly stopped, the cheers quieted. I took it as my queue to climb back down and into my Behemoth. The doors to leave the Nitro Drome, past Scarr's Lockjaw, opened to my right.

It was likely best if I stayed. Drove around, parked my car outside, and greet my people as they jumped into theirs to leave. It would do them good to have that camaraderie, to see their leader out among them, tangible and reachable. One of them, rather than apart.

I couldn't bring myself to. The thought of interacting with the crowd made my hands shake; in anger, in frustration. I wanted to hide. I just wanted to hide.

So I did.

Shifting gears, I peeled off into the Wasteland. I drove east as far as I could go before reaching that ugly marble and gold ruin. Tucked myself into a canyon, parked my car, and stumbled out of the seat to sit on the ground. I couldn't be in my car any longer. Too small. Too tight. Too enclosed. I needed to be outside.

As soon as my palms struck the ground, a rush of emotions and feelings washed over me. My knees hurt. My head was pounding. My chest was too tight, my heart beating far too fast, it's heat broiling my insides. Almost made me want to tear off my armor just to give myself room, to reduce my layers so that I could cool off, but I knew better.

And, fucking hell, I was so fucking hungry.

I wanted so much in that moment. I wanted food, I wanted water, I wanted comfort, I wanted the power to make it stop. My stomach clawed at me, pulled me apart piece by piece; I was starving. I was starving.

I couldn't take it. I can't. I can't. I can't.

"Is everything alright?"

What kind of stupid fucking question was that?

My mind was a flurry of indescribable information: thoughts, feelings, cravings. I couldn't make out a single coherent thing... even so, I willed myself to resist.

I had company, and it would be impolite to keep indulging in these nonsensical sensations.

Glancing over my shoulder, I tried to meet my company's gaze. I couldn't. The world was so blurry, there was little light save from the moon that shone behind their hooded face. I couldn't see.

"I ask again: is everything alright?"

"I'm fine," I answered, then quickly turned away, feeling another surge that I had to shove down. "Everything's fine."

A lie.

There was a moment of silence as I heard the stranger step towards me, their cloak fluttering into view just before they crouched besides me.

A fucking madman, to approach me when I'm like this. When I'm on the verge of...

"... you seem tired, Megalo Don."

"Like you wouldn't believe," I answered without thinking. "Now go away."

"I would not bat away a helping hand, if I were you."

"What do you want?"

"I want to help."

"How the fuck do you think you can do that?"

A pause. The stranger held his hand out from his cloak, fingers pressed tightly together. Then, with a snap...

Silence.

My heart slowed. My mind ceased to race, my thoughts flowing in nice, orderly fashion, like a river through the canyons. Most importantly... I stopped feeling hungry.

"How did you do that?" I asked, blinking with surprise as I adjusted to the current state.

"Magic."

"You're so fucking funny, smartass."

"You don't have to be so rude," the stranger chastised. "I can just as easily set you back."

"Don't," I was almost begging. I didn't like it.

"Then play nice."

The stranger rose to his full height, extending his hand to help me up. As I tried to stand on my own, I struggled, as if a weight on my shoulders was holding me down.

Fuck, I was tired.

Reluctantly, I took his hand. He pulled me to my feet and steadied me with a hand on my back. I felt my heart beat a touch faster...

Yeah, okay Meg, you fucking touch-starved, gay idiot. Stop being so desperate.

I brushed his hand off my back, "Please don't. Not a big fan of touch."

The stranger hummed in acknowledgement, "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. Whatever you did, it did the trick. How did you do that?"

"I am a sorcerer. I am a doctor. I am many things. Things you need, and so I answer."

"Are you from this island?'

"No, I am from another reality. But, I am familiar with this place."

"Wouldn't happen to know about a weapon that can fire giant, island-destroying lightning bolts, would you?"

"There is no weapon of the sort, but if there is a spell..."

"Right. Sorcerer."

"There are a few on the island. I could help you find them, if you would like."

A lead? Already? How lucky... about time, honestly.

I was overdue for a little luck.

[adudelolwriting]

oooo for the ask game, "lovers to enemies" with either Brian and Tim or Jay and Tim? <:)

so uh . i went a bit overboard with this. heres 1.2k words, hopefully you enjoy !! (ask game here)

~~~~~~~~~~

Brian and Tim had been friends.

They had met in college, and the two quickly got along. It was strange, for Tim. He had just met the taller man, and it was clear Brian was always going to be there for him. They even shared the same living space during college.

Brian didn't have a car, and so Tim drove him a lot. That's how he met Alex, through Brian. Tim had never been interested in acting before, but Brian insisted he at least tried out, and Tim got the part.

The start was… fun. There were a lot of jokes, goofing off, and just hanging around. But as the weeks went, Alex changed before stopping production completely and never being seen again. Okay, sure. Whatever.

Brian left.

He still kept contact with Tim, but now it was only through calls and texts after he finished college. The house they shared seemed emptier. 

Brian doesn't keep in contact with Tim anymore. He knew the day would come eventually, but Tim's heart still squeezed with grief. Maybe he had convinced himself that Brian would be different, his first friend out in the real world. (Tim shakes his head. He doesn't need to think about this.)

Tim is losing time. He's blacking out, waking up in the middle of the woods or street or field, hours, days, weeks from what he last remembered. He always wakes up with a shitty plastic mask, and he throws it out but somehow it's always back.

This goes on for years. The medication starts to help.

Tim still misses Brian, as he finishes moving out of this house. Tim misses him a lot, seeing everything that still reminded him of Brian. He shakes his head, taking one last look at the house, holding the last box of his things. It felt like a goodbye, a real, proper one. "I miss you, Brian," Tim mutters under his breath before turning away for the last time.

Tim gets a random call one day. It's Jay, who's asking about Marble Hornets. It brings back to many memories, but Tim still says he can help where he can. They line up a time to meet, and Jay seems very insistent on knowing information about Alex, but, whatever. The two weren't that close in college, but Tim supposes he was around enough. He answers Jay's questions, and soon enough Tim's left with a "I'll call you later and let you know."

Something's wrong.

Tim's blacking out again. It's been harder to keep stable jobs. It feels like his life is falling apart again. 

Tim's being stalked by someone. They wear a yellow hoodie, and have something covering their face. They're pretty good at hiding — Tim's only seen them once or twice. (Who knows how many times they've been here?)

The hooded figure is fast. Tim can never hope to catch up to them. 

Tim contacted Jay, this time. He found some old tapes from back when Marble Hornets was being filmed, and figured the other would enjoy having some. Tim can't remember what's on them, but hopefully it'll be something useful for Jay.

Jay lied.

Tim can be a very angry person. He knows this — that's why he tries to keep it under wraps. But when he sees Jay again, he couldn't hold himself and he punches Jay. He lied. He lied. He never wanted to continue Marble Hornets. He just wants information and wanted to play hero.

Tim was doing fine. He was doing better. Then Jay came around, pointing his stupid camera everywhere, and suddenly everything went down the drain! Tim's whole life was coming undone because someone wants to play detective, someone wants to try and help people who can't be helped!

He never wants to see Jay again after this. He never wants to hear the words Marble Hornets, or tapes, or cameras or anything. 

Tim missed Brian. He's been thinking of him recently, with the film on his mind more than normal. Brian was sweet, kind, caring, patient. Everything Tim wasn't. 

Tim… god, Tim missed him.

His medication is going missing.

He knows this — he knows he had some earlier. He saw it. But then it just wasn't there when Tim needed it, when Tim's coughing fits lead to seizures. Which leads to blacking out, and waking up face down in the dirt.

With the last person he wanted to see, apparently. Jay had also been taken out here, that damned camera left with him and letting him record everything as if it has no effect on anyone else. 

Tim wouldn't say he was depressed. But god, days like these? It made Tim feel like nothing was worth it. But he had to keep going. Even if he always throws away this mask, but it always ends up back in his hands, or his house, or car. 

Tim wasn't as angry as he was before with Jay, but he still didn't want to be walking through Rosswood with the man.

Tim and Jay started working together. It seems the universe wanted them to stick together. 

Jay tried to attack Tim. Tim hid one tape from Jay, because it was about Jessica, and Tim knew he would react badly. But bringing a knife? Did Jay really think that was going to be okay? 

Tim tied Jay up, took his camera and knife, and left. Jay would be fine at his own house while Tim left to look around Benedict Hall. 

Jay escaped. Jay went to Benedict Hall. Jay was shot. Jay was dead.

Jay was dead.

Jay was dead.

Tim went home. Everyone he knows is dead or missing or left him.

Tim goes back to the college. He's going to find Alex. 

He finds the hooded figure. (Why do they seem familiar?)

He chases them. (Tim needs to take revenge.)

Up a flight of stairs. The figure is hanging over the balcony. 

Anger fills Tim's veins, and then the body drops. 

Silence.

Tim looks over the edge, and the body is unmoving. Tim makes his way back down, and they're not breathing. (Ignore that.) Tim searches their pockets, pulling out a tape and some of his medication. He's been out for a while now. Tim downs two pills. 

The tall creature shows up before Tim could unmask the hooded figure. Tim runs back home. 

He watches the tape.

…

It…

……

It was Brian.

The yellow hoodie. It was Brian.

Another person Alex took from him. Tim's best friend, his first one. Alex took him. 

(And now Brian's dead because of you.)

No, no — it was Alex.

Seth, Sarah, Amy, Jessica, Jay, Brian. Alex killed them all. Alex killed them. Tim needed to stop him. He led Alex to his house, and Alex burned it down. 

Tim had nothing now. 

He had nothing to lose.

He found Alex again in Benedict Hall, hiding behind the screen of that demonic creature. Tim found him. That thing kept teleporting them around, but Tim held on and fought. He had nothing else left. 

Tim kills Alex. He goes home.

God, Brian was dead. Tim hated the hooded figure, and he wanted it dead, but… he was Brian. 

Tim felt hallowed out. He went to sleep, nightmares plaguing his mind. 

Brian was dead.

Tim didn't have anyone or anything left.

Brian was dead.

[somefishycat]

WIP Wednesday 9/25/24

Look it's Tuesday I made it! Somehow. Sentences under cut!

marble wall 2 for @zyrafowe-sny @wizisbored @violet-prism-creatively @kallisto-k

Camila gives Gus a long look, raising an eyebrow. She probably doesn't believe it, which is fair, because it's not true. But she still leads them back to the area Gus and Hunter got left behind in. She grabs a bright yellow bottle off a shelf and places it in the basket. “Anything else?” Nobody else really wants anything in particular. Vee does look into the cart and frown at the many cartons of eggs. (They're so small. Griffins must be tiny here.) “We could eat lunch here,” Vee suggests. “So we can take all this right home after we leave. There will be time to show everyone the rest of town tomorrow.”

marble wall 3 for @valleyfthdolls @sourb0i @eriquin @aisalynn

Luz shakes her head. “It’s June, it won't be dark for a while. Uh, why don't we decide what we're, like, doing? Like, do we need a coffin or something? And what should we say?” “I don't know what that… is?” “Like a box that you bury people in?” That sounds kind of pointless. “It's supposed to, uh, protect the body? And it's, like, cleaner than… putting it in the dirt?” Luz adds when he doesn't answer her. There are many things Hunter could say to this.

Does Raine know what owl beast venom tastes – that's a stupid question. If anyone other than Eda would know… He sets the glass aside. “Don’t tell her about this.” “About the apple blood?” “Well, don't tell her about the apple blood either,” he groans. He can only imagine what Eda would have to say about that. “But that’s not what I meant.” Raine thinks for a moment. “You did lie to us about Lacey, didn't you?” He told the others that she had tried to haunt Belos. That her goals aligned with their own. Not that she became a ghost over some decades-long grudge. Possibly the only other people who knew her true motivation were Perry Porter and Mira Graye herself. “Weird thing to lie about,” Raine continues. “So she was a little petty. So what? So are you. So is Eda. Waiting around for years just to see a rival die? She would've thought that was so cool.” They're probably right. But grandmother's somewhat embarrassing prioritization wasn't the only reason he said that. “Would you have trusted her? If you'd known she didn't actually care that much about taking down the emperor?” he asks. They shrug. “Probably. She wasn't a hardcore loyalist or anything, right?” “Not anymore,” he says simply. “Oh.” Neither of them speak for a long moment. Raine takes another awkward sip of their apple blood. “I'm sorry,” they say suddenly.

ones left behind for @aparticularbandit @kalira @asha10100101010 @auburnlaughter @tamsinswriting

@whimsicalmeerkat @enigma-the-mysterious @stonemaskedtaliesin @post-and-out @lizhly

@adhdavinci

[frootloopscos]

Day One? Done and Done!

As the the soft music from Trein's computer played (Y/N) let out a quiet sigh of relief as they watched each kid slowly fall asleep. Ortho putting himself in charging mode after seeing everyone else asleep. They looked over to Trein with a small smile, "is it always this hectic?" They asked, Trein exhaled through his nose with a knowledgeable nod. "Yes, though that is how the youngest room usually is. You should be getting a bit of a break tomorrow with Crewel's room." (Y/N) nods at this information. "Thank you, is there anything I can do while they nap?"

Trein gave them a small job of refilling the kid's water bottles outside in the hall at the fountain and they were doing just that, holding Deuce's clear blue water bottle under the tap when they felt someone pull on the bottom of their shirt. They moved the bottle away from the water and looked behind them as they put the lid on it to see a familiar looking boy with Silver hair and lilac eyes. "Oh hello there, Silver right?" They asked bending down slightly to his height. The small boy nods while rubbing his eye, "is there something I can help you with bud?" Silver nods again and points to the water fountain.

Turning to the fountain (Y/N) realizes and nods, "was I in your way? Sorry about that!" They said as they stepped to the side allowing him to get a drink before he gave them a gap toothed smile and waved before going back to where (Y/N) assumed was Crewel's room. (Y/N) finished filling the water bottles before going back into Trein's room, "I'm back." They said quietly as to not wake up the sleeping kids. Trein nods and motions for them to put the bottles back at the kid's tables. "After nap time we'll have arts and crafts as parents and guardians come to pick them up."

(Y/N) nods "alright, what's the project they'll be doing?" They asked tilting their head slightly. "A Halloween project." Trein said and explained how using two marbles with some white paint in a pencil box with a black cut out of a person they can make mummies. "Awe that sounds so cute." (Y/N) said as they and Trein began to cut out the outlines for later. Making sure there was a few with small points where the ears would be and a few with different animal shaped ears on the top of the head for a bit of diversity.

——

Around thirty minutes after the two adults had finished the cut outs, the kids began to wake up, Ortho being the first as he had an internal clock that he had set for him to wake up. (Y/N) clapped their hands together and warned the kids to close their eyes before they turned on the light. "Alright it's time for Art! Let's sit down at our tables as Mr. Trein goes around and gives you a cut out." They said, the kids all answer in their own ways before sitting down as Trein goes around allowing the kids to choose what outline they want to use.

Once they all had an outline, (Y/N) demonstrated what the art project was going to be, "so you take your outline," they said holding up a cut out of a person with cat-like ears on top of the head. "And put it in the box, then Mr. Trein or I will come and put the paint marbles in the box with it, then you shake it up!" They said as they shook the box watching the kids all smile at the motion. "And when you open it, it's a mummy!" They said with a grin showing the kids their new mummified cat person.

As they did their projects, one by one parents and guardians came to pick them up. Epel, Jack, Deuce, Ortho, Ace, the only one left was Sebek. (Y/N)'s brows furrowed and they knelt down to him, "who's picking you up today bud?" They asked, Sebek looked to them and puffed out his chest, "my grandpa!" He said with a sharp-toothed grin, "he's so cool Mx. (Y/N)! He was a gen gen..." he paused, "Mr Trein what's the word again?" He asked looking to the older male. "General," Trein said as he was packing up his papers and other things for the day. "Yeah a genital!" Sebek said turning back to (Y/N), their eyes widen slightly as they snort, "general," they correct him lightly. "That's what I said, Genital!" Sebek said and began to " march " around the room with a grin on his face.

(Y/N) smiled, 'at least he's happy,' they thought to themself as they watched him. Soon enough a knock was heard and the door opened. "Grandpa!" Sebek yelled before running over and hugging the male who walked in, (Y/N) could see the resemblance between the two. "Hi there, I'm (Y/N), the newest helper here at the daycare." They said introducing themself to the male, "Baul, nice to meet you." He said shaking their hand, "you ready to go little soldier?" He asked looking to Sebek. The boy nods and takes his hand, "bye Mx. (Y/N)!" He said before leaving.

——

(Y/N) sighed as they sat in their car, turning on their Bluetooth and going to their favorite song before driving out of the parking lot. Feeling like they deserved something after the day, they drove though the TwstDonnalds and got some food before finally driving home. After exiting and locking their car they walked up to their door and unlocked it, "Grim I'm home!" They said calling to their familiar.

Claws on wood could be heard as the cat ran through the house and to the human, "you were gone forever!" The cat yelled as he flew up to their face, his blue eyes staring into their own (e/c) ones. "I'm sorry, but you get to come with tomorrow." They said as they are a fry. "I do?!" He yelled now excitedly grabbing for their TwstDonnalds bag. "Yes, you do, and stop that or you won't get any!" They said raising the bag and going to the counter.

Together the two ate before (Y/N) took a shower and snuggled into their bed with the cat. Hugging him close to them with a smile as they closed their eyes and fell asleep.

————-

YA'LL AGAIN IM SO SORRY I'VE BEEN BUSY WITH COLLEGE BUT HERES A LONGER CHAPTER FOR YOU (yes I know Halloween was yesterday I'm sorry  😭)

Word count: 1083

Published to wattpad: Nov. 1st, 2023

Published to tumblr: Feb. 1st, 2024

Edited: n/a

[popcornaddict500]

Working out the knot in your back

Pairing: Mhin x Adam

Synopsis: Mhin and Adam go on the search for knowledge, but a mistake slows down their progress... more than they had expected.

Warnings/notes: smut, contains oral sex and penetrative sex. Important: I hc Mhin to be afab. If you don't like, don't read. Thank you :]

2300~ words

-----------------

"I had expected this place to be full, but this is... a lot."

Adam and Mhin step into the archives of the Senobium. Walls go up higher than you can look , with shelves covered in boxes and boxes of scrolls, books, and anything else to contain information. Long ladders ascend into the sky. It feels 'old' here, like the feeling you'd get walking into an ancient library.

The floors are marble, the walls a pristine, tiled white, with blue lines symettrically leading up to the ceiling.

Adam carefully puts the glass pane back into its spot at the window, trying to be as silent as he can.

"Do you think we'll find something here?" He whispers to Mhin.

"This is where all their information is kept. We're bound to find something."

"But, something we're looking for?"

"We'll see."

Adam looks around, warily looking at the door at the end of the large hall. Mhin, sensing his discomfort, nudges his shin with their foot. "Come on. We don't have much time."

It's like a labyrinth in here. Though things are organized alphabetically, there are also other sections that have no markings, and the writings are in a language never seen before.

Adam and Mhin drag out all kinds of boxes from the 'C' section in the alphabetic rows. Only, there's hundreds...

The round clearing where they've found themselves in is now covered in boxes, papers strewn about, scrolls tossed aside or hazaphazardly thrown back into their boxes, onto the shelves. Soft blue candlelight casts a glow on the papers, and several benches line the walls.

Mhin, frustrated, shoves a box to the side with their foot. "How can there be so many different scrolls that all have to do with crowns?!" They hiss, tossing their cloak to the side.

"Right... I've been rifling through several boxes that only discuss different kinds of cages for beasts and the likes... It's amazing how many there are." Adam sighs, shaking his head.

Mhin groans, leaning down to grab a box in their way. Adam watches from the side, cheeks flushing a little at the way they're bent. Their pants are tight around their ass, leaving little to the imagination. He mentally curses himself for the thought that bubbles up in him.

"Uhm- Mhin, you should try to lift with your legs."

"Don't tell me what to do." They roll their eyes.

"Alright, I just don't want you to get hurt."

Mhin sets the box aside then reaches for another. This one's heavier. They grunt, struggling more with this one, and just when Adam's about to offer his help they force it up.

And in that same moment they both hear a 'pop'.

The boxes are hastily stuffed back to where they were, lost papers shoved under shelves, trying to make it seem as inconspicuous as possible. Grabbing their cloak off the floor, Adam rushes Mhin to the very back of the archive, in between two large shelves- They probably won't be found here. Probably.

"Uurghh!" Mhin writhes, their back not happy with their decisions.

"Sh!" Adam puts them down on their stomach, on a bench he dragged here. "I know it hurts but we need to be quiet...!" He whispers, and Mhin glares at him.

"Like I don't know that...!"

Adam smiles sympathetically. "Here, let me..." he reaches for them, "Can I touch you? I can try to massage it better."

Mhin grumbles, cheeks flushing, but they nod. "Fine..."

Adam gently pulls their shirt out of their pants and raises it to look at their back. "Show me where it hurts." He presses down on several spots, until Mhin jerks. "Here..." His hands, although bandaged, are warm and strong. He smooths them over their back,  pressing down firmly and trying to ease the muscles and joints that are all aching in pain.

Quietly, Mhin groans, gripping the edge of the bench.

"Does it help?"

"A little... Go lower."

He obeys and using three fingers on both hands, massages the tense spot there, elicting more soft moans and gasps from them. God, he can't take this. Get your mind out of the gutter! Can he help it, though? He loves their voice, and their skin is so smooth. He has no doubt it's soft, but because of the bandages he can't feel it. He wants to lean forward and kiss them there so bad.

"I'm sorry, this must be unpleasant." He slides his right hand under their belly, lifting them up a little- They gasp at this, straining to look back at him-

"Hey!"

Adam smiles, "Just trying to get your back into the right position. Sorry." He continues his ministrations, and while simple, it does seem to offer some comfort.

Mhin knows he means well, but it doesn't make it any less embarrassing. Their flushed cheeks are proof of this.

"Where did you learn this?" They groan. "You... have some idea of what you're doing."

Adam chuckles softly. "Well, thank you. I was working with a doctor for some time, when I was younger." He massages with his palms.

Mhin relaxes, slowly. "You did, huh..." They sigh, feeling the worst of the pain fade.

"Still hurting?"

"Yeah." Mhin sighs, "But thanks anyway."

Adam stops.

Mhin glances at him over their shoulder, confused.

Adam looks over his shoulder and gasps, nabbing them off the bench and carrying them under his arm like they weigh nothing-

"?!"

"Someone's coming!" He gasps, rushing him and Mhin into a nearby storage closet. It's tight and dark inside, but Adam leaves the door cracked. He holds them tight against him, much to their annoyance and embarrassment.

His heart pounds, speeding up when he hears the voices get closer. Mhin grabs his arm. To steady themself? To calm down his nerves? Just to touch him? Who knows.

They can't discern the voices, but it must be some senobium mages.

The voices fade away and Adam breathes out a sigh of relief.

Mhin winces, "Stop squeezing me- my back-"

"Oh! Sorry." he doesn't let go of them entirely as his face heats up from being so close. "Damn... your back's still no good." He shakes his head and kisses their face. "Guess I'm not as efficient as I thought."

Mhin is very thankful that he can't see their red face in the dark. "We need to keep going though. We won't- ngh- get a chance to break in here again."

"Well, you don't know that. We know which window we broke open," Adam chuckles gently, "Besides, I don't want you hurting any more. It'd just make things more dangerous..."

Mhin sighs and leans forward, their forehead against his chest.

He hesitates, but holds them, still rubbing their back, "You know... we're alone in here. Maybe pleasure can drown out the pain."

Mhin blinks, pulling back to look at him with wide eyes. "Just what are you suggesting?"

Adam looks off to the side, flustered, "Just saying, it might help. It's helped for me before."

"Here, of all places?" They bristle, unable to look him in the eye. "...I can't really move right now."

"Then don't worry about that. I can handle it." He kisses them gently, on the mole by their lips. He smiles a bit at the feeling of their skin warming under his touch.

They glance at the door briefly, but then back at him. "Alright, just... be careful. We have to be quiet."

The door is now closed, the only source of light being a little glowing orb Adam has on him. He uses it for keeping warm in the cold, or lighting his way in dark areas. It lies on the floor, on top of Mhin's pants and cloak, and Adam's shirt as well.

But...

How are they supposed to stay quiet like this?!

Mhin's laying on a wide storage box, on their back, as Adam keeps their thighs spread, and his mouth on their wet folds. His eyes are closed, thick lashes resting on his cheeks. He has no right looking this gorgeous while doing this, especially in the dim light of the warmth orb.

Adam's skilled tongue and lips are merciless on them. He wants to please them, clearly, distract them from their stiff and painful back, but moaning out is the last thing they can manage right now. They press a hand over their mouth, gripping Adam's hair... Despite it all, they can't deny it's helping. They barely notice the pain anymore.

"Ad- Adam- slow down a little..." They gasp, groaning quietly under their breath.

Adam hums briefly and obeys- though now they have another problem. This pace is just as- if not more- maddening. He draws slow, long lines across their slit with his tongue, coming up to suck on their clit. When he goes back down, they can feel his tongue briefly slip inside.

"G-God...!"

Even through the bandages Mhin can feel how warm his hands are on their smooth thighs. Seriously, where on earth does this man get this skill from? When Mhin met the baker he seemed like such an innocent individual...

They were dead wrong.

Adam moans softly, rutting his hips into thin air with how worked up he is. He's doing this to ease their pain, yes, but he also enjoys it severely. He loves giving them pleasure and hearing them.

It doesn't take too long for them to tremble, thighs threatening to close around his face, "I'm- nngh--!"

Adam recognises the subtle throbbing of them against his tongue, and leans up to fondle and lick their clit a little more... They grip his hair tighter, elicting an intense groan from him.

Mhin's loud moan as they come is muffled by them keeping a hand over their mouth, but Adam hears it nontheless. Their slick drips onto his eager tongue. He laps it away and leans back up, looking at their shuddering form with affectionate eyes.

"I- fuck..." Mhin shivers, sweaty all over and eyes closed. They blink when Adam turns them over, placing them on their stomach instead. They grunt a little from the pain in their back, though now it's much more faint.

"I'm sorry, but... can you take a bit more?" He asks, his hand gripping their hip as they feel him rut up against them as he whispers, "I'm afraid doing that got me in quite a state..."

Mhin bites their lip, glancing at him over their shoulder, at his flushed face and heated expression. "It's fine. Just be quick about it..." They'd never admit it, not right now at least, but their pussy aches to be filled after that relentless -but pleasurable- assault of his tongue.

"Of course." Adam fumbles with his pants, tugging them down. "Normally I'd be a bit more slow about this, but God..." He groans in their ear, which gives them goosebumps all over, "You have quite an effect on me."

He thrusts his hips forward and they both groan. Mhin is tight but also so wet, which makes him slide in easily. Mhin closes their eyes, enjoying the feeling of his strong hands on their waist, getting stretched, and their back pain being almost gone by now.

As he moves, the storage box beneath them creaks and shifts. If it wasn't for the innate knowledge they'd probably die if they were found here, Adam would stuff them until the box broke. Another time, perhaps.

Mhin struggles to keep their moans at bay, but Adam does too... The room is filled with gasps, grunts, little whimpers, 'more' whispered under their breath, Adam gasping about how good they feel and how stunning they are in this light. It doesn't help them be any quieter.

"D-Don't call me- nh...!"

"But you are." He kisses in between their shoulder blades, "You're so beautiful, Mhin." He says it in such a way, as if they're the most gorgeous person he's laid eyes upon. Knowing Adam, he's not just being flattering.

"Ugh- s-shut up." Their face burns, though part of them melts inside. "Just keep going..."

Vigilant as ever, the two of them hear voices nearby once again. Adam acts quick, covering their mouth with his hand and leaning down to wrap his other arm around them. He doesn't stop moving, though.

Mhin, annoyed, sinks their teeth into his hand- He grunts, but allows it. If anything it makes him more turned on.

The voices near, Adam discerns something about 'this place is such a mess', but then they leave again... Their luck is good today. He pulls his hand away from their face.

"Don't do that again...!" They gasp. "I could barely breathe..."

"I'm sorry," He moans, resuming his quicker pace, "Ah- I just didn't want them to- ngh- hear us...!"

Mhin gasps, squeezing their eyes shut. "Hurry, I'm--"

"Me too-" Adam bites down on the nape of their neck, which makes them shiver pleasantly.

He grips them a bit tighter, and once he feels their walls flutter and clench around him, he quickly pulls out, stroking himself with haste. He kisses their lower back as he comes onto the floor.

There's a good minute of silence and heavy breathing as they regain their energy. Adam keeps kissing them wherever he can...

Mhin gets up, groaning quietly, and Adam offers his arm. They take it.

"How's your back?" He asks gently, eyes soft and a bit worried.

They stop and think about it, "...Good, actually. It's better." They stand. "I can't believe that helped."

Adam beams at them. "I'm glad to hear, love."

Again, part of them melts. "Y-Yeah." They grumble, grabbing their clothes and tugging them back on. "Anyway- we should keep going."

"Right." Adam smile, also getting dressed. He tucks the luminous orb into his bag. "Mhin?"

"What?" They turn and look at him.

He says nothing, simply leans down to kiss their lips.

They offer a small smile.

"Let's go."

[sugolara]

𝙃𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚

ft. Tomura Shigaraki x fem! reader

series m.list || next

The light blue-haired male grumbled as he paced around his room. His hands scanned every shelf in search of a game that he remembered he owned and wished to play it once again. His hands knocked down a few trinkets and magazines which annoyed the male as it landed harshly on his foot.

His red eyes watched as a marbled rolled underneath his bed. Sighing and groaning in annoyance, Shigaraki crouched down and reached his hand underneath the bed. His fingers fidgeted as they searched for the marble but instead touched a box.

He was bewildered at what a box was doing underneath in his bed and so he pulled the box out, forgetting about the marble. Sitting on the floor with his back leaning onto the bed, he wiped the dusty box and his eyes were met with a big black bold X.

His eyes then widened a bit as he remembered what was inside the box. He wiped his hands onto his jeans and opened the brown dusty box.

He didn't grab anything yet, instead his eyes lingered on the objects, taking in all the memories that came along. A feeling of regret and longing ached in his heart.

Had he known what was going to happen next, he would have done something to prevent it.

✧˖*°࿐

Today was hot and Shigaraki knew better to take off his hoodie, but seeing as there is a mall cop after him and the younger teen wanting to mess around and annoy the cop he had decided to not take off his hoodie. He'd do it later.

Surfing through crowds, Shigaraki peered back onto to see that there were now two mall cops after him and they seemed to be faster. He grumbled and ran at a faster pace but unfortunately as he turned back in front he bumped into someone making them both land onto the pavement.

Shigaraki gripped his head letting out a few cursed words as the other unknown figure hissed in pain.

"Get back here you little shit!"

Before Shigaraki could get on his feet, his hoodie was yanked as someone began to pull him into the crowd. Regaining his senses, he and the other unknown figure were pulled behind a clothing store.

The two both puffed out air as they tried to catch their breaths.

"Dude, I totally thought we were going to get caught. I thought you were gonna get me caught!" She chuckled as she dropped a purse.

Shigaraki leaned onto his knees and eyed the girl, "Do I know you?"

"Yeah." The girl nodded with a grin, "We're friends seeing as I helped you before those fake cops busted your ass. You're welcome."

Shigaraki huffed and fixed his hoodie, "As if I'd be friends with you. Who the hell even are you?"

"F/n L/n at your service." She said as she extended her hand to shake the male but when he didn't she pulled it back, "Ah, germaphobe."

"Do I look like a damn germaphobe?" Shigaraki glared at her as she chuckled into her fist. He then continued with a stink eye, "Tomura Shigaraki."

"Cool, cool." F/n eyed his appearance, "Ain't it a bit too hot to be wearing a black hoodie."

"Ain't it a bit too much for you to give a damn." Shigaraki huffed out as he began to walk away. He heard a snicker coming from F/n and the sound of ruching footsteps coming towards him.

"What are you doing tonight?" She said as she stuffed her hands into her pockets, "I ain't doing much and I thought we'd go check out this party on the rich side. Heard a band is coming and lots of booze."

Shigaraki continued to walk, "I don't do parties. In case you haven't noticed."

"Yeah, no shit. You look gloomy and depressed and like you hate the world." F/n smiled when Shigaraki glared at her. She then continued, "Anyways, I don't do parties either, but think of all the shit we could steal! If this dude is having a band coming to play at some half ass party, he's gotta be loaded."

Shigaraki cursed himself for giving the girl attention as she rambled on about a party. Maybe he should've killed her and saved him the trouble from hearing this girl talk. But, yet again, causing chaos with someone doesn't sound too bad.

Fine, he'll indulge into her shenanigans.

"'Kay," Shigaraki let out an annoyed sigh, "Where do you want to meet?"

Grinning, F/n took out her phone, "What's your phone number? I'll text you the address."

Reluctantly, Shigaraki gave his number and in return she gave hers. Once that was settled, F/n looked ahead before peering back to Shigaraki, "Alright, I got to go but I'll text you and please don't ignore me. It's so hard making friends."

The male rolled his eyes and walked away, "Whatever, I'll see you later."

As he walked further, he could tell that F/n was smiling and grinning. The whole way home, he thought what a strange girl she was and would she stick around longer if she knew who he really was. Who knows? Maybe she'll be his first recruit.