#(let me know if I need to change something ^^)

[clockwayswrites]

Birds need a flock, after all! Part 38

masterpost nooooooo editing *flops over in migraine land*

“Danny, can I talked to you for a moment.”

Danny closed his eyes and took a slow breath before turning to face Jason. He tucked his hands into his pockets. “Jason, sure. I hope yesterday went well?”

“Long but well, yeah,” Jason said. He looked away from Danny and shifted his weight in a way that seemed almost nervous. “I owe you an apology.”

Danny blinked. “I—pardon?”

“For yesterday,” Jason said. “I hurt you, which wasn’t what I meant to do. I was in a rush and didn’t stop to think about what what I was saying and what I did say I said badly. I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh.” Danny resisted the urge to reach up and rub at the back of his neck. “That’s okay Jason, apology accepted.”

“That’s—” Jason cut himself off with a frown. “It doesn’t have to be okay, I know I fucked up.”

“I don’t want to fight with you, Jason,” Danny said with a little shake of his head.

“So, what? You’ll just let yourself be hurt and roll over and pretend it’s okay?”

Danny shrugged. “That’s how I’ve survived.”

Which maybe was a bit sad, but it was true. Go along with his parent’s work, die in the portal, die again, try to keep the peace, lose everything for cheating, be punished for not liking a holiday, for being too nerdy too curious too much. He’d been rolling over and playing dead all his life.

Jason rubbed at his face. “You don’t.. you don’t have to do that, and I’m sorry that I made you feel like you have to here. A lot of us… we’re bad at saying things. Alfred and Bruce says too little, I say the wrong thing. Dick pretends to be happy and Tim wants to make everyone else happy. Cass struggles with words and Damian his emotions. Duke might be the only competent one in the house. But you shouldn’t have to just give in for any of us.”

Danny glanced away.

“You shouldn’t,” Jason insisted, “because if nothing else we’re all trying to be better and if we’re going to get better we have to be called on our bullshit. Yesterday I fucked up. I am scared of you being alone with Lian, but because you’re still mostly a stranger to me. That just means I’d prefer, to start, if Alfred or Bruce were with you two. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you had to hide or… or that there’s something wrong with you.”

“Isn’t there?”

“Fuck no!” Jason said with such earnest fervor that Danny was left looking at him in surprise. “There’s nothing wrong with you being a meta and the changes that you’re going through. And me being wary of you with Lian has nothing to do with that. It’s just my own fears and need to make sure she’s safe. And if you’re fine with it, and I mean really fine with it, I’d like to get to know you better, so I can get rid of that fear.” Jason stepped forward and offered his hand. “So, sorry for being a raging asshole, I didn’t mean to be, not that it makes it much better. But hi, I’m Jason Todd, and I’d like to get to know you better so that you’re not a stranger, is that okay?”

Danny gave a little snort of amusement at the theatrics, but he reached out and took Jason’s hand with his own. His own had that was almost normal again, save a scattering of soft, downy feathers. “Danny Fenton, and I’d like that.”

[svtswhorehouse]

CASUAL DOMINANCE W/ CHEOL — sfw

walking on the side closest to the road

Swinging your interlocked hands as you two walked, you babbled on and on about your day — occasionally drifting off onto topics that weren't necessary.

You were excited for god knows what, but still, Seungcheol listened to you intently, letting you yap without interruption. Despite you having an entire conversation with him more like yourself, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander the street as oncoming traffic and the honking of cars overwhelmed him.

"Are you even paying attention to me?" You question, furrowing your brows.

"Yes baby, I'm listening," Seungcheol states as he grips your elbow to change positions with him. In one swift movement, he was able to pull you over to his side, now leaving him walking on the side closest to the street.

You thought nothing of the action, in fact, you didn't even notice it at all. Seungcheol always tended to have habits such as this — whether it be exchanging positions on the street, or covering the corners of tables so you didn't hit them. To you, this was completely and utterly normal.

"What was the last thing I said?" You narrowed your eyes, intending to catch him in a lie.

Instead of answering you, Seungcheol answered the question you last asked relating to the topic. "No, we're not getting a puppy."

You immediately opened your mouth to speak, but he was quick to cut you off. "And no, we’re certainly not getting a fluffy cow."

Visibly deflating, you looked at the ground muttering to yourself. "It was worth a shot."

From beside you, Seungcheol laughed, pulling you closer by your hand to kiss your cheek out of cuteness aggression.

doing “manly” tasks such as taking your car to the shop, opening jars, and fixing things around the house

“Need help?” Seungcheol watches in amusement as you wrestle with the jar of pasta sauce.

“No,” You grumble, determined as you plant your feet on the ground and give the lid another forceful twist. Your palms ache as the pressure cuts into your skin, leaving indents behind. “God damnit! Is this shit super glued or something?”

Your boyfriend leans against the counter, lips twitching as he fights off a laugh. He could sense that you were becoming more frustrated the longer the lid refused to budge, but he thought your stubborn nature was too adorable to intervene quite yet. He knew better than to jump in too soon, especially when you looked as if you’d fight both him and the jar.

You let out a huff, grip tightening around the glass like it personally wronged you. “I got it.” You insist with a strained voice, wiping your now sweaty hands on your jeans for a better hold.

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, doubting your abilities. “I don’t think you got it, baby.”

The glare you send his way is somewhat intimidating — a silent warning that now is not the time to be teasing you. You continue to try and pry the lid off, slamming the jar on the counter with a grunt when it doesn’t move an inch.

Wordlessly, Seungcheol walks towards you and takes the pasta jar himself. He twists the lid and the soft pop of the seal breaking was almost offensive to your pride. He didn’t as much so break a sweat, his arms not even flexing as he was able to do what you had been attempting with ease.

Your mouth falls open in shock, eyes narrowing when he hands the opened jar back to you with an irritating smirk.

“I loosened it for you.” You mutter defensively, snatching the jar back from him.

He smiles smugly, ruffling your hair in affection. “Sure you did, baby.”

“I did,” You press, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you needed him in that moment, despite denying it at first. You elbow him in the chest half-heartedly, lips formed into a pout.

Seungcheol only laughs, leaning down to kiss your head as you begin to pour the sauce into a pot. Your resolve cracks when his arm wraps around your waist, holding you close to him.

“I highly doubt that, but thanks for loosening it I guess.”

You roll your eyes, slightly annoyed, but nevertheless, his playful gratitude doesn’t fail to make you blush.

paying attention to things that catch your eye

"What's this?" You ask, wiggling your eyebrows with a smile on your face. You stare down at the gift box laid on your bed, running your hands over the cute red bow tied neatly around it.

Seungcheol started to remove his tie, glancing at you briefly before shrugging. "Just a little something." He muttered, not making a big deal out of it.

If there was one thing he noticed about you throughout the years of your relationship, it was that you hated asking him for things — at least, things that costed money. For something as cheap as a bottle of water on a hot summer day, you would shake your head no if he asked whether you wanted it or not. To say he hated that habit of yours would be an understatement.

One of Seungcheol's love languages was giving, so won't you just let him spoil you every once in a while — it's not like it’s going to make a dent in his wallet anyways.

"A little something huh?" You tease with a grin, opening the box in front of you before gasping at what was inside.

The necklace was even more gorgeous up close, than it was from afar when you saw it while walking past the window display. "Wh-, I-, Cheol-, oh my god." You stutter over your words, struggling to form a proper sentence.

He lets out a small laugh, walking over to where you sat. "What? You like it?" He already knew the answer to that question, having seen you glance at it on a shopping trip with heart eyes for a millisecond, before sighing and walking away.

Despite you not mentioning a thing and choosing to forget about it altogether; Seungcheol didn't. No — in fact he called the store and bought it online that same day, only picking it up today after one of his work schedules.

"I-I love it." You spoke up, touching at the small detailing of the rhinestones. You glance up at him after a minute of admiring, not being able to bite back the words. "How much was it?" You question, already knowing that the store itself was designer and very, very expensive.

Seungcheol sighed, running his hand over your hair. "Don't worry about it."

"But-,” You tried, to which he cut you off.

"Don't worry about it." He repeated insistently, this time with much more emphasis on his words.

It was your turn to sigh, as he took the necklace from your hands and clasped it around your neck. All worrying thoughts drifted from your head as you caught sight of it on your body in the mirror. It was absolutely breathtaking.

You kept your eyes on your reflection, admiring the gift before turning around to face him. "Thank you."

Seungcheol smiles at you, his heart reacting to the words as he feels the warmth of adoration spreading throughout his body. "Anytime baby."

making you hold his hand when crossing the street

"What are you doing?" You ask, curiously looking at the extended hand Seungcheol holds out for you. You two took on a busy street, waiting for the crosswalk signal to change so you could continue your adventures to the other side.

Your boyfriend glances at you expectantly. "Hold my hand." He says, gesturing to it with the tilt of his head.

Huffing at him, an annoyed expression crosses your features. "But why? I can cross the street by myself you know?" Your eyes were wide, a clear sign that you were irritated.

Seungcheol took the time to think carefully about his next words, knowing that your patience was wearing thin. "I know you can, but better safe than sorry."

You roll your eyes, anger bubbling inside of you. "No. I'm an adult Seungcheol. I can do it myself." To prove your statement, you ignore his hand entirely, stepping out onto the street to begin your journey to the other side.

It all happened too quick for you to process. One second your foot was on the road, and the next, Seungcheol was grabbing your arm firmly to pull you back quick as a car sped by, honking at lightning speed. You crashed into his chest, heart racing as you came to the realization that you almost got hit.

"See." Seungcheol scolded. "This is why you should listen to me."

Still in shock, you let him take your small hand in his big one, not putting in any effort to resist. You gripped your other hand onto his forearm tightly, letting him lead you safely across the street as he's offered to do every single time you guys are together.

[thecoochiefairy]

slim pickens. toji.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 10.9K words. blackfempregnant!originalcharacter, toji fushiguro, husband!toji, countryboycoded!toji, snakewrangler!toji, grumpy!toji, sweet!toji, dominant!toji, nasty sex, sweet sex, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, creaming, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condomless sex, fingering, kissing, spanking, violence between characters, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ this one is a heavy trigger warning, okay? i missed toji too, and just wanted to truly tie the loose ends to one of my favorite stories, the snake wrangler, so this would be pt 3 after lovesick. be warned, if that last tw might be uncomfortable for you, please don’t read! it’s cutesy for the most part, but tackles important subjects. hope y’all don’t mind more of the storytelling rather than smut. i love y’all.

visual.

A FIT OF GIGGLES CONTINUOUSLY BOUNCED OFF THE WALLS, THE SCENT OF RICE MILK HUGGING HER NOSE AS THE AROMA WAFTED FROM THE RUSTIC BATHTUB. It was similar to an oversized bucket, stainless steel as the clawfoot design curved at the top, Stoney’s name carved within the metal—her husband had designed it just for her. 

She couldn’t help to return the giggles of the child beneath her, the eight year old smiling as bubbles collected within her wet coils. 

“Mommy, I told you I could wash my own hair!”

She sighs, “I know, Sai. But mommy isn’t ready to be without you just yet, yeah? Give me a couple more months?” 

She blows a bubble into the girl's cheek, “Maybe even a few more years?” 

“I’ll always need you, Mommy— I’m just growing, like a plant—Like the flowers in our garden!”

Stoney hummed, a smile following after. She loved this little girl more than the stars combined within the earth. 

“Of course. You’re right, as always. C’mon, flower— Let’s get you cleaned up so you can finish your chores. Help mommy up, yeah?”

She huffs, a palm rising against the swell of her belly—the stretch marks painting across her skin remind her of the excitement she felt when finding out that she was pregnant for the second time—but being pregnant with twins? That was another story. 

“Thank you, pretty girl.”

Chores wasn’t the definition Stoney would use, as that was something kids didn’t necessarily enjoy doing. One year of being engaged, two years of being married changed her life. She didn’t expect to be living in her dream home so soon—A coquettish design, pointed at the top as bricks replaced the smooth walls that would’ve been on a modern house. And in the backyard—a farm, essentially. Two acres of land—Seven chickens, two pigs, and one cow. It was a domesticated life, as her husband always wanted to make her happy. 

Stoney learned against the fence, watching as Sai tossed grained corn onto the ground, flushed pecks sharply nibbling at the ground as the chickens ate their dinner. 

“You’ excited about your birthday, baby?”

Sai hums her nod in acknowledgment. But as her age increased, her curiosity might’ve peaked more than when she was only five. 

With that being said, her next question was hesitant. 

“Is Daddy gonna be at the party?”

Stoney’s eyebrows falter a bit. She pulls her hair behind her ear as she replies, “Of course, baby—um, why wouldn’t he be?”

Sai shrugs carelessly, “I know you two fight, Mommy.” 

She was definitely intuitive. Sai may have been just seven, but she was smarter than most. There were things that Stoney wanted to be able to explain once her baby girl got older—she wasn’t supposed to know any of that now. 

Not to mention, Sai’s words had reminded her of the text she’d received earlier that morning. 

Stoney gives a weak smile, “How about you go wash up and set up the dinner table, yeah?”

Sai’s eyes flickered up to her mom. She wondered for a moment if she’d made her mad, but when Stoney gave her that smile, she couldn’t help her own. 

“Yes, mommy. I’m hungry!”

With a sweet kiss on her momma’s belly, she walks towards the house, her small ponytail bobbing with every step. When the soft click of the back door closes, Stoney sighs.

Finding her way to the miniature barn behind the chicken coop, she presses her fingers into the maroon painted outhouse for the cow—her choice of color, complimenting the browns mixed within the red wood. 

Her eyes find him immediately—onyx tresses hidden beneath a backwards cap, his equally dark eyebrows furrowing as he continues leaning into scrubbing the animal's fur. Each muscle within his arm flexes— his olive skin coated in tattoos from the ankles to his neck. The deep cuts on the sides of the loose top show off the sculpt of his inked abdomen, serpent slithering on his arm each time he curved his bicep. 

She pulls the curl of her hair behind her ear, watching him for a while.

Her voice is soft as she then greets, “Mochi only sits in silence when you clean her. She must have a crush on you.”

He never stopped his hand from carefully scrubbing down the animal, but the corners of his eyes wrinkle as he chuckles. 

“She must,” his deep voice carries into the ceiling, “I told her ass I’m happily married.”

Her fingers absentmindedly trace to her stomach as she questions, “Did you have a client this morning? You left pretty early.”

“Yeah.” 

His gaze finally turns, Stoney’s figure standing in the doorway—the red sundress compliments her tatted brown skin and honey freckles, her dark hair shaping around her face that flushes from pregnancy—Her skin glowed under the light, pretty as she could be. 

“Job went quick as hell—somebody asked me to transfer a bearded dragon to the lab by the Zoo. How you’ doing, momma?”

That name—It always brought her a sense of comfort. Toji could be worrisome, constantly at her aid as she was carrying two of his children for eight months now, yet, she still tried to keep herself in the same loop she always had been—working a couple of days at the pottery shop, helping around the house, even venturing out to the backyard at times. He’d rather her sit on her feet all day, but Stoney had never been the type. He knew that. 

“I’m okay,” she says softly, “Was a bit nauseous after you left for work, but I’ve been trying those kale chips the doctor recommended—they’re gross,” she scrunches her nose. 

Here’s the thing—she’d now been with Toji for about three years, getting eloped instead of a wedding, spending their honeymoon in Prague as she’d always dreamed—he was willing to give her the world, but she’d come to learn a side of him that wasn’t always her favorite. He could be frustrating, stubborn, and set in his ways. When he felt a way about someone, there was no fixing it—and that person was her ex-husband. Any conversation about him didn't go well. 

“I wanted to come ask you something.”

He was silent as he listened to her, but his motions stopped—a brow raising on his expression. This behavior was almost always a precursor to something—disagreeable.

“What you’ need, baby?”

Okay, his eyes might’ve had her back down on what she really wanted to bring up. Her voice is sweet, “Come lift up my belly? Like they taught us in the Mommy and Me classes? It feels heavy, baby.”

His brows relaxed at her question. He chuckles as he reaches for a hand towel in the bucket of water next to him, patting his hand dry. 

“Yeah, baby. I’m comin’.” 

He comes around the cow, Stoney smiling at him with a warm greeting. She had her arms open, Toji cupping her soft cheek and pulling her into a rough kiss. He grunted— but as expected, their intimacy was cut short as Mochi moo’d impatiently.

“Okay, okay, Mochi. Relax, lemme’ show my woman some love.” 

Stoney giggles softly as she pecks the sharp of his jaw, turning to press her chest along his back as she guides his hands beneath her stomach. 

She softly rambles, “Been tryna’ find ways to get these stretch marks off my belly. They look hideous.” 

“Here you go, talkin’ yourself into a coma. You love sayin’ bullshit, huh?” 

His hands cup beneath her belly, “They’re beautiful.”

She can feel his full lips against the shell of her ear as he’s pressing his fingertips into the bottom of her swollen flesh, elevating the weight of it with him. The relief is instant, and she moans—low, long, just the way he likes.

“Oh—Toji,” she sighs sweetly, a squeal of his name following suit, “Thank you, baby.”

“Now you know I can’t handle all them’ sounds you’re makin’. Keep that shit up, I’ll have you bend you over this fuckin’ hay—“ 

She giggles again, laying her hands over his as she begins to softly rock from side to side. 

“Must you be nasty, Fushiguro? Can’t you just gimme’ love?” 

“I give your ass plenty of love, that’s why you’re in the state you’re in now.“

She shakes her head, accepting the kiss he gives the side of her throat. Toji falls deeper into the flush of her skin, Stoney raising her hand up, snaking it around to tug at his hair beneath the cap he wears. The rocking of their bodies continue, making her more comfortable to get on with the conversation she actually wanted to have. 

“Sai asked if Nathaniel was coming to her birthday party.”

He doesn’t still against her, but his grip on her belly becomes more weighted.

He pauses, before letting out his next question. 

“Is he?”

Stoney turns her head a bit to find his face, “He is her father, Fushiguro.”

“I know that.” 

That was all he said before he removed himself from Stoney’s back, her stomach falling. He reached for the bucket, preparing to return to his chore of cleaning Mochi once more. 

“That’s all you were tryna’ tell me?”

Stoney holds back her sigh, the absence of his body feeling a little cold as his energy now feels dismissive. Her arms crossed as she continued, “Well—he said he wants to pay for the whole thing, even after I told him that you were covering the cost of it. He insists that he’s her father, and should be responsible for her party.”

He doesn’t look at her, “You gonna’ let him do that?”

“I—“ 

Stoney does sigh, “I don’t know. He asked for all of us to go out to lunch tomorrow to discuss how everything’s gonna go—“

She sees his face, continuing anyways, “I think it might be good for the two of you to find some common ground.” 

“Yeah, you think we should braid each other’s hair too? Gossip?” 

“Fushiguro.”

“I’m good on’ that.”

“You’re good on’ that? That’s how we’re ending this discussion?”

“It was a discussion?” he finally turns to look at her.

Okay, Toji wasn’t a big fan of Nathaniel—it was clear as day. Meeting Stoney as he did, seeing the way he treated her after being divorced, it made him think of how he treated her when they were married—nothing good, he was sure. It made him angry, and he wasn’t trying to take himself to that point. 

“I’m not gonna’ be an ass, so like I said—I’m good off that.”

“Do you think I’m doing this for me? Or because I want to?” She frowns, “I’m doing it for that little girl who loves her father and thinks he’s a superhero—but she loves you too, Fushiguro. You’re just as important to her, and the both of you coming together would make her happy.”

He doesn’t say a word—because she’s right. His lack of understanding towards Nathaniel was more than his dislike for the man, and it was clear. But he loved Sai like she was his actual blood. 

“I heard you, Solaya.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Now I’m Solaya? So you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset,” he shakes his head, “I haven’t even said ‘nothing. I’m listening.” 

She can feel this man like no other. Dealing with the tension between her ex-husband and new husband wasn’t always easy— But Toji was protective of his wife, and he wasn’t willing to deal with Nathaniel if he didn’t have to. 

Stoney lowers her arms, “Seeing him outside of drop offs and pickups doesn’t sound exciting to me either, okay? But Sai’s getting older and—“ 

She releases an exhale, “She said that she knows me and him fight, Fushiguro. And if being cordial with him will make her happy—then that’s okay with me.”

Toji’s jaw flexes. His brows furrowed as he looked at Stoney, his eyes boring into her. Sai was extremely perceptive, and to hear that she knew the relationship they carried with her father—that wasn’t good at all.

On the other hand, his wife’s selflessness could be frustrating—Stoney was always so—forgiving. It was the reason why her and Nathaniel stayed together as long as they did. But that wasn’t the point of this, the point was to come to a solution. 

So he settles for, “If we’re supposed to go to this lunch, what time is he comin’?”

That changes Stoney’s energy. She tries to hold her smile, her head tilting as her teeth dig into the plump of her lip, “So, you’ll go?” 

She kneels her face into the top of his back.

He rolls his shoulder, his hands moving to grab her front as she leaned into him. 

“If it’ll make you happy,” he mutters, “I’ll play nice, Momma. You know I’ll do anything for Sai.”

She pouts, giggling a bit as his palm finds the flesh of her ass, “What about me? The love of your life? The one bearing your children?”

He smacked, Stoney squeaking into his back at the unexpected contact. His hand smooths down her thigh, his thumb tracing circles into her skin as he murmurs, “The love of my life don’t’ need to ask for shit, I’ll do it regardless.”

She kneels her nose in the muscles that flex at the nape of his neck. “I love you, Daddy. You’re so sweet.”

He hums at her words—that name came from her lips like a sweet spell the moment she wanted to butter him up—and it worked. His fingers trace along her thigh, his grip pulling her even closer. 

“You tryna’ show me how much, huh? It’s a little while before dinner—“

“Nuh-uh, boy. You still have Mochi to finish washing, and Buttons and Bows need to eat!” She reminds him of the pigs, “You’re easily distracted, farmer.”

“You say easily distracted, I say motivated—if your ass didn’t distract me in the first place, I would’ve been done with Mochi hours ago.”

Stoney giggles once more before she releases him, “Can you come rub some more cocoa butter on my belly before dinner?”

“Anything to make you and the babies more comfortable, Momma. Go start up dinner before I make you the fuckin’ meal.” 

“You’re nasty! You gon’ watch me walk away?”

“Am I gonna watch you waddle away? I always do.”

“Oh wow—rude!” 

“I love you too.”

                                          𝓐ᥫ᭡ 

OF COURSE HE WAS LATE. 

The crease in her brow hadn’t left for the past hour, as her ex-husband was being a little too accurate—he was late, having the couple sitting within this restaurant with no food and only drinks on the table. 

“You sure you don’t want anything to eat, baby?” 

Stoney blinks—her eyes fall back on her husband, his legs spread as his attention is on a beer—he tried not to drink around her or Sai anymore, but he needed a distraction. 

She shakes her head, “I don’t think the little one’s took too well to breakfast this morning,” holding her belly with a soft frown.

Toji watches her with careful eyes, his thick brows furrowing as he looks at the pout on her face. He could tell by now that Stoney was nervous more than anything, and less that she was simply nauseated. 

Being on time never seemed to be high on Nathaniel’s list of priorities, at least not since he’d met Toji. He was always late—picking up Sai, dropping her off, recitals, important events—it had been three years, and nothing had changed. 

“Maybe some soup?” He offered.

“Don’t think I’m in the mood to throw up liquids,” she briefly glances over the menu, bringing her hand to his thigh as she apologizes, “I’m sorry—I don’t want you to be late to work.”

“I got employees, baby.” 

He turns over his hand, threading his large fingers with hers, “How are you feelin’?”

“Sai’s birthday is already a pretty difficult time,” she pressed her lips together, making a face with a smile, “But I’m fine. Just—glad to have you here with me.” 

Just as Stoney knew her husband, Toji knew his wife. Something felt—off in those words. 

She reaches for his ear, rubbing at it comfortingly as she dismisses, “What client do you have today?”

He was silent for a moment, wondering about her behavior—he didn’t want to push, as she wasn’t exactly the most open when it came to her past. Toji hums softly as she plays with his ear, his head tilting back to lean in closer. 

“Takin’ that bearded dragon from the lab back to the Zoo’s terrarium, then I gotta’ go visit an old employee—he wants me to bring this Boa over to his son’s apartment as a birthday gift—Easy ass money.”

Stoney’s nose scrunches, “ And you’re gonna put that demon in your truck?” 

Toji chuckles, “Momma, you say that like my truck ain’t already been full of reptiles. I’ve kept a Boa in the backseat plenty of times—you think this one is finally gonna take me out?”

She flicks his ear, “Fushiguro, don’t say that. I will actually vomit on you.” 

His laugh is low as he places a kiss on her knuckles, “I’m playing, you know that.” 

The moment she gives him the smallest smile, her attention is pulled at a familiar voice coming increasingly closer—he’s talking into the phone, bullshit consisting of some stocks he prepared to sell. No surprise there. 

Nathaniel had finally appeared. He never looked any different each time he came around, a button up suit covering his caramel skin, brown eyes empty, waves shining beneath the lights of every room he walked into—he was handsome, always had been—but his unattractive spirit took that all away. 

Their eyes flicker over the man as he continues talking into the phone, sitting across from them without a greeting. 

When he finally hangs up, this is the first thing he says, “A beer, huh? What’re we celebrating?” 

Toji being a man of no nonsense, he replies with, “You should greet my wife first and apologize for bein’ late.” 

Nathaniel’s eyes flicker over to Stoney as if he’d just noticed her.

“Hello, Stoney,” his eyes moved down to her stomach, “You look beautiful—Pregnancy suits you, even if it’s the second time around.” 

Toji’s eyes narrow. 

Stoney quickly squeezes his hand, dismissing the sailor language she knows her husband can spout, “You’re late, Nathaniel. You were supposed to be here an hour ago.”

Nathaniel’s smile is easy, “Business calls. You were with me long enough to know all that—how far along are you?” 

She knew he had no intention of apologizing.

Her voice is gentle, “I’m almost nine months, but I’m not here to talk about my pregnancy—You wanted us to meet you here, so what did you want to talk about?”

“My daughter’s birthday party, of course,” he reaches for the wine glass on the table, “I insisted that I cover all of the charges, since I am her father.”

Father. 

He has an emphasis on it, flicking his gaze over to a leg bouncing Toji. 

Stoney’s voice is pensive, “I understand that. But before you called me to ask about plans, Toji had already planned to cover all costs. With him being her step father, I didn’t have a problem with it.”

“It’s my responsibility to handle anything that has to do with Sai, Stoney,” Nathaniel reminds, “Step-father is just a title. Don’t make him any different than just your new husband.” 

“You can both—“

“‘The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Toji raises an eyebrow, “I provide for her just as much as you do, if not more.” 

“Don’t get too offended, man. I’m not speaking on how much you provide for her—“

“You’re right. You can’t speak about that because you don’t know,” Toji cuts off. 

“Fushiguro—” 

“What?” 

 His voice is clipped, Stoney closing her mouth as she tries to avoid a potential argument between the two of them. Toji keeps going, “You want to celebrate Sai as her father, I’m not tryna’ that shit away from you,” his leg is still bouncing, Stoney’s eyes flickering towards the beer bottle he could potentially break in his hand, “I take her to school, take her to ballet—I’m there at her recitals, sitting at the edge of her bed if she’s sick. I’m there for her. So if we’re really here to talk, we need to be going half on this shit.”

“Half?” Nathaniel repeats, “For what?” 

“I think it would make the most sense, Nathan,” Stoney agrees, “You’re both trying to make sure she has the best celebration, I think what matters is what would make our daughter happy.”

Nathaniel’s gives a chuckle. 

“What is it that you planned for her?” 

Toji looks at Stoney, his mouth pressing into a thin line. 

“A party at the science museum—it’s her favorite subject. They do a kid’s birthday package, and I plan on renting out a couple of the main galleries for her,” Toji explains.

“And you think you can afford that by yourself?” 

Toji’s face is cold.

“Money ain’t shit for me. But that ain’t the point— I’m more than willing to split if it means you’re willing to actually spend time with your daughter. You think you can afford that, or should we be checking on your finances too?”

Nathaniel’s face drops. 

He looks to Stoney as he questions, “You gon’ let this nigga talk to me like that?” 

Stoney’s voice is still gentle, “He’s not talking to you in any type of way, Nathan—Okay? Can you calm down? Please?” 

Her face. It’s a face that Toji had never seen before, almost as if she was—scared?

“Baby,” Toji lowly calls, hand reaching beneath the chair to tug her closer, “You okay?”

When Stoney turns back to him, she relaxes her face a bit. Almost as if she didn’t mean for that expression to slip—Stoney slides her hand back into his as she brushes off, “I’m fine. Look—You both have an impact in Sai’s life. So you need to be able to come together simply for the sake of her, and going half on her party is a way to show some type of mutuality. Can we do that?”

She’s too good. Her heart is too big for her chest. Toji sees this, but as much as he loves her for who she is, Nathaniel’s a different story. 

“I’ll split for it. Shit was never a problem for me in the first place,” Toji finalizes. 

Nathaniel doesn’t say a word in response, which has Stoney clutching along her stomach, “Nathan?” 

“Yeah, we’ll split it.” 

Stoney let’s out an inaudible sigh of relief, but the moment quickly shifts as her ex-husband stands from the table, his harsh movements having the booth shake as he stomps off—it makes Stoney jump a bit, a heavy breath pushing from her lips the moment she hears the door of the restaurant slam behind him. Stoney’s lashes flutter as she blinks, feeling the warmth of tears glaring at her vision. 

“Hey, hey—momma, what’s wrong, huh?”

Toji’s already clutching her face, pulling her forehead against his—it makes Stoney awkwardly giggle, pulling herself back a bit as she wipes under her eyes, “I’m okay—I promise. Can we go home?” 

She wraps her arms along his neck, burying herself within his larger frame—she’s shaking. 

Toji’s eyebrows lower as he’s pressing his lips against her forehead, his large hands tracing up her back, “Of course we can.” 

His voice is soft, “C’mon—I’ll pick up some ingredients to make them’ lil’ popsicles you like.”

“The raspberry ones?” she nearly gasps, which makes him chuckle. 

“Anything you want. You eatin’ for three now.”

He leans down to kiss at her belly, Stoney tugging at his hair as she sighs, “Let’s have like four more after this.” 

That’s when Toji halts his movement.

“Four?”

“So you hate me? Okay.”

“Woman.” 

Here was the thing—two days had gone by, and Toji couldn’t keep his mind off the discussion that happened nearly forty-eight hours ago. He knew that her ex-husband could be childish, but he couldn’t stop thinking about their specific interactions, wondering how much he missed when she talked to Nathaniel by herself, or when he wasn’t there to protect her. He always tried to stay in his place as her husband, but this was his woman.

His mind still wandered as he slid another box closer to the front door, planning to pick it up and take it onto his truck—he was currently helping Serena move out of her apartment and into her new home, Stoney and Sai currently out shopping for her birthday outfit.

“I appreciate this, brother-in-law. But I told your ass to bring that cute employee of yours—I wanted his number!” 

She holds a glass of wine, watching as he effortlessly moves the boxes by himself.

Toji chuckles, his shirt sticking to his sweat, “He’s married—got two kids and a pregnant wife, remember?” 

She sighs, “Oh yeah. I forgot about that.”

Serena takes a long sip of her wine, “How’s my sister doing?”

Toji hums, carrying another box, “She’s good. She seems a little exhausted lately—I keep telling her to stay in the house, but you know how that goes. Still accepting bookings at the shop, trying to put together Sai’s birthday alone—you know she had me and that dumbass ex-husband of hers play nice, huh?” 

“Yeah, well—Stoney’s been that way since she was younger,” Serena’s eyes lowered, “She’s always been the one to put her needs on the back burner for everyone else—that’s why you gotta get on her ass sometimes.” 

Serena takes another sip, “And I’m not saying it to go against you or nothing—but that man has been in her life since she was a young girl. It almost makes me wish she didn’t have a kid with him, but Sai is the only blessing to come out of that relationship.” 

Toji’s eyebrows lower as he listens. It makes Serena ask, “You’ve never asked her to go in depth about that part of her life, have you?” 

He’s quiet for a moment, the air a bit tense. It was true. Toji knew whatever his wife told him, but he often got nothing when wanting to know everything about her past relationship.

“She doesn’t like talking about it.” 

Serena makes a sound, finishing off her wine before she answers, “Stoney’s more dependent than she tries to admit, which includes accepting comfort from those who love her. Her and Nathan’s relationship—it wasn’t good, you know? It hurt me to see my sister going through what she did.” 

Toji’s stopped moving now, watching Serena as her expression falls. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure—yeah?” 

“Nathaniel—He never put hands on her, did he?” 

Serena’s eyes flicker to him, her lashes batting a bit. 

She doesn’t answer. 

Toji’s blood grew cold at her silence, “Serena—“ 

“Don’t ask me to get in the middle of my sister’s relationship with you.” 

She wasn’t looking at him, but her tone had risen a bit. A warning. 

“Just keep being good to her. That’s all I want, Toji.” 

“Serena.”

And right on cue, her phone rings. She presses the phone to her ear as she leaves him with, “Finish up carrying those boxes so we can go—yeah? I’m tired as hell—would you excuse me?” 

And with that, she closes the door behind herself to the bathroom. 

Toji had never been an easily angered man. He prided himself on his ability to remain calm and collected, especially for the sake of his family. But this was different.

He’d found a new conversation to fixate over, the scowl on his face stuck for the next couple of days—he wanted to bring it up to his wife, but not only had Stoney been driving herself crazy with party planning, she’d also had been dealing with early on contractions, and although the doctor said that was entirely normal in pregnancy—it didn’t make it any less painful. 

Stoney laid sideways along the bed, her fingers clutching at the duvet as she released deep breaths, eyes scrunching as she continuously squeezed the ball between her thighs as some type of relief—it didn’t seem to be helping.  

“They talked about this peanut ball in class, this shit isn’t even—agh, helping,” she huffs.

“Just focus on breathing, Momma,” he murmurs, “You’re doin’ so good, I know it hurts.”

Toji’s large hand held her waist, digging into her hips, which made her release the smallest moans. His face is close to hers, watching as sweat beaded along her forehead. 

Stoney turns her head towards the crook of his bicep, huffing along his skin, "These are pretty strong for Braxton hicks."

She makes a whimper, clutching his wrist as she squeezes the ball between her thighs. He knew it must’ve been feeling intense now.

“Did you feed Mochi?” Her eyes squeeze shut, panting, “And everybody else?”

“I told you don’t worry about that,” he mutters, his hand tracing to the nape of her neck, his fingers massaging the base of her spine.

“But I did. I watered the garden, too,” he hums, a bit amused at her mothering, even in the state that she’s in, “You just breathe, baby. You want me to get the hot pack?”

“It broke this morning,” she whimpers again, “Forgot to tell you.”

She squeezes the ball tighter beneath her thighs, “Should I try another position? This isn’t helping.” 

Stoney presses her knees into the sheets, leaning her upper half against the ball now—she’s rotating forward every few seconds, arching her back up with heavy breaths. It does something—not much, but the low moan she releases tells otherwise. 

Toji’s hands trace along her hips, his head lowering to press an open mouth kiss along the small of her back where her shirt rises.

She releases another whimper—she’d always been sensitive even when she wasn’t pregnant. His deep voice carries, “How’ that feel, baby? Talk to me.” 

When she feels his palms continuously grinding into her sides, her eyes nearly roll as she feels him rocking her back and forth himself—the pressure he puts on her body is like no other, and she softly whines, “That feels sooo good.”

He chuckles at her reaction, his lips trailing along her side before he murmurs, “You sound pretty, baby.” 

He loves it when she’s vocal, and he’d be lying if he wasn’t tempted to do more—not to mention, the feminine pheromones releasing from her constantly had his dick throbbing, but he was far more worried about her comfort than his own. He missed her like hell, though.

She keeps her hands touching the opposite end of the ball, moving her body with the rotation of it as she questions, “How’s Serena doing? I told her I’d come by to see the house since she works on Sai’s birthday—I hope she isn’t upset with me.”

His fingers dip beneath the hem of her shirt, brushing against the soft swell of her belly as he presses another kiss to the side of her stomach. 

“She’s good. Didn’t have that much stuff to move in anyways,” he pauses, “I don’t think she’s mad. But she said if you ask her how much you owe for making Sai’s cake one more time? She will get upset.”

Stoney shakes her head, “She keeps tryna say that she doesn’t need me to pay her—you know I’d never do that. It’s her business, you know? Being related doesn’t matter to me.”

“That’s what I said,” Toji mutters, “Even after I talked to her about it, she still wants to do it for free,” he chuckles, “Your sister’s a stubborn one—just like you. I can see how you’re related.”

“She’s so irritating.”

As Toji watches her— he wonders if he should bring up the conversation between him and Serena. He’d been worried about this for the past couple of days, and he wasn’t sure if he could hold it in any longer.

“Baby,” his voice is low, “You don’t regret being with me, do you? Feel like we moved too fast on getting married, having kids—anything?”

Stoney halts her exercise. She turns towards him, holding her belly with a soft huff as she frowns, “What? No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“I know I’m the first man you’ve been with since him—And I want you to be comfortable in talking to me about anything—including your past relationship. That’s all. You know I’m always here to listen, right?”

She releases a soft exhale at his words, feeling a sense of tension rush over her body. 

“Not now, baby.”

“Stoney, I’m tryna’ be patient—“ 

“Fushiguro, I don’t want to do this right now. Okay? I have these painful—“

“I’ll keep massaging. I’m your husband, Stoney. I need you to talk to me—Shit is becoming frustrating as hell,” he admits, a small harshness to his voice. 

That’s when Stoney raises an eyebrow, “Or what, Toji? You’re gonna leave me if I don’t tell you every single thing about my past relationship?”

Toji frowns, “Don’t say shit like that, Solaya. I would never leave you.” 

His words have her eyes flick up to him—she can now see the scowl on his face, and a part of her feels bad. She just didn’t want to drudge up the past.

“I just—I can’t,” she admits, her voice soft. 

She pulls him closer, feeling her hands under his black tee, her fingers warm against the flesh of his abdomen, “I’m sorry.” 

He could feel that it was a genuine apology. Toji’s voice drops as his hand traces to her wrist, his lips brushing the soft of her forehead, “You never have to apologize for not being ready,” he mutters, “But I can’t help you if you don’t let me, alright?” 

He lowers himself, his lips meeting hers, not wanting to upset her. Toji keeps his voice soft, “How about you get more comfortable? Let me put on your favorite show, and I’ll start dinner,” he kisses her again, “You’re hungry, yeah?”

She could see how patient this man was with her. It made her feel guilty. Her fingers brush at his tattooed bicep, nodding as she reminds, “You know you’re my heart, right? You know that?”

“‘Course I do,” he mumbles, “And you’re my world—shit is no different.”

And in that moment—Stoney feels a nudge. She gasps, “Baby—they’re fighting again!” 

She yanks his hand, pressing it along the swell of her stomach, “They like hearing you talk to them.”

 He leans forward, his cheek pressing against her belly as he murmurs, “Quit all that playing around in your momma’s stomach. No wonder she has cramps and shit—“ 

“Language, Fushiguro.” 

At that moment, the door bursts open to their bedroom—Sai greets them with three popsicles in her hand, “I got everybody a treat!” 

Stoney smiles, “Hi, baby. That’s sweet—you came in at the perfect time, you wanna come feel mommy's belly?”

Sai’s face lit up. Her brown eyes flicker to Toji, scurrying over and climbing onto his lap as she presses her hands to her mother’s stomach, “Are they fighting?” 

“Yeah,” Toji hums, “They’ been bullying your momma all day. Told ‘em they gotta chill—but you know they don’t listen. Think you can help me out with that?”

Sai nods, “I’m their big sister—they’ll have to listen to me,” she pats along Stoney’s stomach, “Hey, stop being mean to mommy!” 

Toji watches the way her face changes as she feels a kick, and Stoney makes a soft sound. 

“Woah!” Sai giggles, “That was a hard one!” 

“I think you might’ve made them angrier,” Stoney playfully pouts, “Mission failed, big sister! The court grants tickles as punishment!” 

A fit of giggles fills the room as Toji playfully picks up Sai, throwing her onto the bed as he tickles her sides.

These were the moments that mattered. 

Their good energy lasted up until the day of Sai’s ninth birthday. It was perfect—the sun was shining brightly against the blue sky, the wind blew

cool air to lessen the heat of the sun, and miniature bodies scattered the marble flooring of the science museum—giggles bounced along the walls, doe eyes currently preparing to go to the next exhibit—they’d already seen the butterflies greenhouse, seen the stars within the planetarium—now, all the children waited excitedly in line for the terrarium, where Toji would be able to give them a small show of the reptiles. 

Seeing the smile on her daughter’s face as her friends gathered around her, it couldn’t have made Stoney any happier. Sai giggled as she swung the frill of her green tutu left and right, showing off the outfit that her mother had made for her. She was happy. 

Stoney leaned against her husband— blood orange bandeau top rubbing against his leather jacket, the material showing off the beauty of her belly—her hips and ass had grown tenfold with her pregnancy, matching skirt flowing down to her woven sandals. 

“The girls are loving this,” she stands on her toes to kiss at his jaw, “I’ve never seen Sai so happy.”

“She deserves it.” 

His fingers dip along the sides of his wife’s waist, making sure her body stays close, “I think I might’ve had just as much fun as she did today—but you should’ve let me bring Lily.”

Stoney shakes her head, “Hell no, you keep that tennis python where she belongs—in her cage!”

“You mean ball python?” 

“That too!”

Toji chuckles, “Chill. You’re gonna go into labor doing all that.” 

Stoney rolls her eyes, pulling her attention back towards the front of the museum—Here was the small issue of the day—Nathaniel was nowhere to be found.

“Did Sai tell you where she wanted to go eat?” she distracts herself, tugging at her husband's jacket.

“That pizzeria by our house—that’ll give us time to mentally prepare for six little girls in our house,” he chuckles, “I’m gonna cry just thinking about it.”

Stoney gives a weak smile at his words, too distracted to laugh. That’s when she hears the little girls cheer, an employee of the museum beginning to unlock the doors to the terrarium. 

She turns, “How about you head in and start the show? I’ll call the pizzeria, yeah?”

His brows furrow, “You sure you don’t want me to do it before I go in there?”

“I got it, baby. No worries.”

“You’d tell me if something else was wrong, right?”

“Mhm.”

Toji’s frown deepens, “Stoney—“

“Go, Fushiguro. I’m fine.” 

“Did I tell you how pretty you are?”

Stoney rolls her eyes, laughing softly as she feels his palms circling around her hips, finding the weight of her ass to squeeze. She hums, “This is the thousandth time today, I think. Can you stop being so worrisome, grandpa?”

“You have jokes,” he chuckles, “That’s cool. Imma’ show you old, later.” 

Stoney giggles as he lifts her body a bit, pecking her lips in repetitions. At the moment Sai’s name is called, Stoney gives her husband a playful push, “I love you, dork. Go be a kid in there.” 

She watches as he walks backwards, his smile genuine, “I love you,” he calls, giving her a small wave before he turns to head towards the exhibit of the show.

Making her way into the next hallway, she feels a bit winded—She felt bad for her daughter, and she feels helpless at the fact that Nathaniel promised he’d show up to her birthday, but was nowhere to be found. To make matters worse? The money he promised was never given to her, and to keep Toji from breaking her ex-husbands neck, she took the small profit she’d made from SAI’S, playing it off for Nathaniel’s money. She actually hadn’t heard from him since the lunch they had. 

She’s dialing, dialing, and nothing. She could feel the heat starting to rise off of her body. Nathaniel was a lot of things, had done a lot of things—but this took the cake. Going awol and not showing up for a time that mattered the most—she was pissed. 

But nothing pissed her off more as she held the phone to her ear, watching as a familiar frame turned the corner into the quiet hallway—there he was, Nathaniel, in that goddamn suit. He wasn’t in a rush, and he was of course—on the phone.

“You can’t be fucking serious right now, Nathaniel. You just can’t be.”

“Hold on, I’m putting you on hold—“ he lowers his phone, his eyes flickering back over his ex-wife, “What’s the problem?”

“What’s the problem? The problem is that you’re three hours late to your daughter’s party that’s damn near over—where the fuck have you been, Nathaniel?”

“I got held up. I was going to meet you at the restaurant—Why are you nagging? I’m here, aren’t I?” 

He then holds a finger up as he raises the phone back to his ear, “I’m back, yeah.”

Stoney’s blood was boiling. 

“Did you forget you were supposed to go half with my husband on’ this party, Nathan?”

“Half,” he chuckles, making Stoney’s brows furrow with irritation, “I was going to pay for everything—but I had to pay off my divorce lawyers—your new nigga said money ain’t shit to him, right? What’s the problem?”

Stoney had to completely dismiss that this man was on his second divorce, “What don’t you understand? It’s not about the money. It was an effort to show how much you care about your child, to show me that you actually want to be in her life!”

“What do I have to prove to you?”

Stoney blinks, “What?”

“You’re even more stupid than you’ve ever been if you think I care about proving myself to you?”

His voice is cold, “I don’t have to take care of Sai. But I do,” he reminds, “I’ve been trying to do the right thing because I don’t need your ass taking me to court. I’m not doing this for you, or him— yet, you’re still finding something to bitch about. Can’t you ever say thank you?” 

Stoney’s eyes widened. She’s disgusted, completely and utterly disgusted. To hear this man talking to her like this—she wasn’t surprised, but she still couldn’t fathom it. She’s in disbelief, and the fact that he was acting this way with their daughter in the next room—it had her seeing red.

“You’ve lost your mind. Thank you? Thank you?” Stoney’s voice raises, “I have been nothing but civil with you since the divorce, putting everything personal aside for my daughter,” she holds her stomach, trying to keep herself calm.

“I’ve always wanted you in Sai’s life, no matter what happened between us, no matter what you did to me—but you failed her. Again. Eight years, and you’re still a selfish fucking idiot.”  

“Watch your fuckin’ mouth, Stoney,” Nathaniel snarls, “That husband of yours ain’t here to protect you.”

“Fuck you!” she fires off, “I don’t need anyone to protect me! I learned that when the man I loved threw me to the side— said things to hurt me, left me!” She can feel her vision blurring, “All because he wasn’t the man he wanted to be!” 

Hearing herself say those words out loud, they hurt more.

Nathaniel’s eyes narrow, and Stoney jumps at the sudden bang of his palm against the wall— right beside her head.

“You’re not some fuckin’ victim,” Nathaniel mutters, his voice low, face hovering hers closely—Stoney can feel the heat of his breath against her skin, “You should’ve been a better wife. Instead, you fucked a mover and tried to replace him with me.”

Stoney could admit something to herself—years of trauma with this man, and she still couldn’t shake the fear that rushed through her body when he got like this. Being pregnant and alone in this hallway didn’t make it better. Her body shudders as she holds her belly, tears hot as they drop from her eyes, “You don’t scare me, Nathaniel.”

The thing is, he knows that he does. He gives a dark chuckle, Stoney unable to react quick enough as his palm latches onto her throat, squeezing so hard that the bottom of her face instantly throbs—Stoney whimpers, gripping onto his wrist to attempt at pulling him away, “You’re hurting me, Nathan—“

“You should be lucky that I haven’t killed your ass yet,” he mutters, “Imagine what that man would think of you if he knew how you really were? A manipulating, lying, whore.” 

His grip on her tightens, and Stoney could barely breathe anymore—Nathaniel’s large frame has her small body held against him, and her hands can’t get a good grip along his arm to pull him away. She thinks about her daughter, the last ten years of her life, Toji. 

But everything changes in that second.

Nathaniel turns, but not before the harsh punch of a fist cracks against his jaw. His body is thrown back against the wall, stumbling before he falls—a body is already atop of him, swinging, pummeling his face in. She could hear his bones breaking. 

Stoney’s already latching onto the back of his jacket, “Fushiguro—stop!” 

There’s blood everywhere—along the halls, the marble floor of the museum, even the front of his white shirt. Nathaniel can’t stop the man on top of him, his face barely recognizable any longer— Stoney cries as she begs for her husband to stop, pleads for him—her arms are wrapped around his waist as she tugs his shirt, “Toji, please! You’re gonna kill him!” 

But Nathaniel’s already unconscious, the hits halting as Toji’s blood covered body towers over him. His shoulders rise and fall quickly with every huff, his teeth clenched, eyes wild and dark with hatred—security from the museum nearly rips him in half as they tug him onto the wall, already attempting to put him him cuffs—Stoney grips at the front of his shirt, shielding him as she whimpers, “Calm down, baby. Please.” 

To make matters worse—the group of girls are flowing into the hall, curious at the noises they hear. Stoney’s deepest fears come to life— her child stares at the scene in front of her.

“Mommy? What’s going on?” 

She sees the blood, “What happened to Da—“

“It’s fine, baby. Can you let the tour guide take you guys back into the butterfly greenhouse?” her voice is urgent, wiping her tears as she keeps her face away from her daughter,  “Please?” 

Sai’s eyes are wide with shock, her birthday dress that pretty green, her feet covered in a pair of sparkly white sandals—she’s staring straight at her step father drenched in blood, eyes flickering to her unconscious father in fear.

“Mommy? Mommy,” her bottom lip trembles when she asks the question, “Is that—“ 

“Go inside of the butterflies, Sai.” 

Stoney can’t even look behind herself as an employee escorts the children out the hallway. Toji hadn’t said anything in the past five minutes, having the energy of a monster. He tugs out of the security holding him back, snapping, “Get the fuck off me. I’m good.” 

Security questions, “What happened?” 

“I was—arguing with my ex-husband and he—“ 

Stoney didn’t even have enough time to really come to terms with what he did. Her mind flashes back to memories of the past, and she can’t stop her body from shaking. 

“He attacked me,” she admits, the tears rushing down her face, “I’m so sorry this happened at your establishment—my husband was just defending me—“ she throws her hands over her face, crying as she can’t finish her words.

“He did more than that,” Toji’s words snapped, “He threatened to kill her—I heard him. He threatened to kill my fuckin’ wife.”  

“We’ll have to call the police, ma’am—You’ll need to explain to them what happened.” 

“Please don’t,” she begs, “I—“

“It has to be called in, ma’am. We’ll need to review the cameras and have you file a report. This was a physical assault.” 

Hearing those words, everything sinks into Stoney right in that moment. She sniffles as she nods, allowing the employees to call the police. Everything moves quickly after—they put Nathaniel within an EMT, Stoney explaining the entire conversation from the moment they began arguing to the moment he put hands on her. The police offered Stoney the option to press charges, to which she immediately said no, and that might’ve caused a tension between her and Toji.

The next hour felt unreal—Stoney was able to call all of the girl's parents and explain the situation, hoping this wouldn’t ruin Sai’s sleepover. She was thankful enough that everyone was empathetic of the situation, allowing all the girls to stay as a distraction for her daughter. All the girls rounded up in her Princess themed bedroom, giggles and yells consuming over the silence of the other part of the house. 

But Stoney couldn’t help it—the moment the door closes to their bedroom, her voice cracks as she whimpers, “Why would you do that?”

Toji hadn’t said anything since the incident—he’d been silently seething, trying to keep it all in. Even when he was questioned, he’d give short, clipped answers.

“Why would I do what?” 

“You could’ve killed him, Fushiguro. You could’ve gone to jail! You put yourself in jeopardy—my daughter in danger!”

“HE COULD’VE KILLED YOU, SOLAYA!” 

His voice nearly rumbles the entire house—scaring the shit out of Stoney. 

“Do you think for a second that he would’ve gotten off of you if I hadn’t come? I should’ve fuckin’ killed him.” 

“Stop,” she whimpers, “We—we can go to court about this, Toji. We can—“ 

He cuts her off, “You should’ve pressed charges. You’re gonna let him walk after what he did to you—after what he said? Allow him to still see your daughter? I’ll be fuckin’ damned. From what I saw today—that wasn’t the first time he’d put his hands on you, Solaya! Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Stoney feels her chest tighten, crying as she covers her face with her hands, “Stop yelling at me.” 

She can still feel the way her legs shake, not being able to control it—and he notices, he always does, “Baby—calm down, you’re shaking. I’m not angry with you.”

“Yes you are,” she trembles, her hands nearly vibrating against her face, “Y—you hate me…”

“Stoney.” 

Toji’s eyes soften, and he huffs as he takes a few steps towards her—he cups her cheeks, pressing their foreheads together, a gentle move that he hadn’t given her within the last couple of hours. Her body tenses at the touch, and he instantly pulls back.

“I’m sorry,” he grunts, “I’m not angry with you, and I’d never hate you, momma. I just—How can I protect you? How can I make things better if you don’t even trust me?” 

“I do trust you,” she sniffles, “I do—“

They hadn’t even heard the door open.

“Mommy?”  

The small voice interrupts the two, Stoney wiping her face and turning herself away from her daughter's entrance into the room. 

“My friends asked if they could see the farm—is that okay?” 

“Of course, baby. I—“ she takes a deep breath, “How about Toji grabs those popsicles from the freezer for your friends to eat downstairs—Can I talk to you about something?”

Sai smiles, and nods. Her eyes then flicker across her mother’s body—the reddened skin along her neck, the way she’s trembling. 

“Okay.” 

Sai watches as Toji leaves, “I’ll be back up to get you in a little bit, pretty girl.” 

When the door shuts, silence is back to consuming the room. The nine year old’s voice is soft as she approaches Stoney’s side, “Mommy,” her fingers trace her mother’s neck, “Who tried to hurt you?” 

Stoney’s soft breath halts when she feels her daughter’s fingers tracing the same spot Nathaniel’s hand had been pressing only moments ago. But she couldn’t keep doing what she’d done for the last couple of years—shielding her daughter from the truth of her father. 

“Your father did this,” she admits, wiping under her eyes, “I’m—I’m so sorry I haven’t been honest with you, baby girl.”

Sai blinks up at her mom’s words. Her father? Her superhero?

Her hand reaches for Stoney’s belly, as if trying to comfort her. 

“Is it my fault?”

“No, baby. It will never be your fault. It—“

She exhales, “It’s nobody’s fault but his.”

“Why’s he so mean to you?” 

The question haunts Stoney. 

Her voice is weak, “I don’t know, baby. I don’t.” 

That’s enough for Sai. She nods, her hand tracing along Stoney’s belly. She doesn’t want to see her mother upset, “Okay. Then we just won’t see him anymore?”

She didn’t expect her to say anything close to those

words. 

Stoney frowns, “That’s what you want?”

There’s no expression on the nine year old’s face as she confirms, “He hurt you, Mommy—That’s what I want.” 

Stoney wasn’t expecting that, but in the way her daughter was staring at her, she didn’t think she was changing her mind—But right now, there was a sleepover to enjoy, and this was too much for a child to carry.

“How about we um—talk about this tomorrow, huh? Mochi needs to eat, and I know the girls will just love giving her apples,” Stoney giggles, pressing her index finger against her daughters nose, “I hope you enjoyed your birthday today, LoveBug. You mean the world to me.”

Sai finally smiles, “I had the best day,” she hums, “You’re the best Mommy ever.” 

The warmth that Stoney felt in her chest, the love she felt from her daughter was like no other. She squeezes her into a hug, allowing her to run out the room at the call of her friends downstairs.

She didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep for four hours. Her mind wandered—her relationships, her strengths, her weaknesses, her child, her upcoming children—could she handle all the new things within her life?

It was nearly midnight, and Toji had run himself mad dealing with little girls. He was able to get them all settled for bed, making his way back upstairs to find the bedroom in complete darkness. The box fan masked the silence, Toji able to hear the soft intakes of Stoney’s breath. 

She feels the dip of the bed, softly adjusting her body with an exhale. He’s sitting along the edge, rubbing his palm along the arch of her foot beneath the duvet. 

“Did the girls make you cry?”

Toji chuckles, “Almost. One of them said they were gonna steal my kneecaps if I didn’t make ‘em a snack before bed.” 

He can hear her soft giggle, keeping his palm moving along her foot. His voice is low,  “How are you feelin’, baby?”

She gives herself time to think on that question. Her face tucks more into the pillow as she softly replies, “I’m okay. I um—I just wanted to say thank you for keeping me together in all this.”

He rubs along the arch of her foot, “I’ll always keep it together for you. You and the kids,” he means that.

A beat of silence. 

“I want to talk to you,” he grunts, “About today—“

“Sai’s birthday was something that was always really important to me, you know? I—“ 

She doesn’t expect herself to admit this—to admit any of this. 

“I um—it was actually a year before I’d met you—Sai’s fifth birthday, and she was so excited to be having her first sleepover. Me and Nathaniel weren’t on the best of terms as I’d told him I wanted a divorce—but we were trying to keep up appearances for the sake of our daughter. We had the smallest disagreement—and it just—it happened so fast—I didn’t even feel the moment he hit me.” 

Stoney could feel Toji tense, but he doesn’t stop rubbing her feet. He listens.

“I was so scared. I was too afraid to say anything because it was our daughter’s birthday—so I just smiled and pretended like everything was okay. Sai was too focused on showing off her room to notice that my face was bruised—and as long as she was happy, I was okay. That’s all that mattered to me. I figured that it was a mistake, that it wouldn’t happen again—It just didn’t feel important to tell you, because I thought I was fine.” 

She feels herself becoming emotional, swallowing down the heavy lump in her throat. Her voice is returning to shakiness, “I’m just—I’m so sorry that I never told you, Fushiguro.”

“Baby.” 

He can feel the heat of her body rising, he knows the tears within her eyes. This woman hurts, and it angers him to see the pain she’s been put through. 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he mumbles, “Understand that I’d never hurt you, and I’d kill for you,” he grunts, “I love you. So goddamn much. Can I hold you, baby? Can I touch you?”

Stoney releases an unsteady breath, “Yes.”

That’s all the permission he needed.

She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer than she ever had before. Her face is within his neck, shoulders slumping as she sobs, releasing everything she’d ever been holding in. 

This was a woman that had been holding her pain in for years, and now, she’s letting it all out—a weight had lifted off her shoulders. His large palms caress her back, her hair, pulling her as close as he possibly can. He loved her. 

She does it without thinking—Stoney’s lips lift to his mouth as she kisses him within the darkness—It’s warm, passionate, digging her fingers into the dark tresses of his hair—she needs him.

 His body looms over hers, breath hitching the moment his mouth equally finds every part of her skin—her lips, her throat, her shoulders. He’s everywhere. 

Toji’s grunting, already pinning her ankles against the headboard, hovering himself above her body to keep him from putting his weight against her stomach. Similar to her—he can’t wait, he needs her even more. He tugs his bulge from beneath the material of his sweats, Stoney whimpering as he slaps his tip against the slick of her folds. 

The sound of Stoney’s gasp trembles within his ear, digging her nails within his back as he sinks inside—her legs shudder, face burying into his neck as she softly whines, “Toji…” 

Toji groans when her voice gives in his ear, his large palms traveling beneath her body, cupping the arch of her back as much as he possibly can—she fits into his hand perfectly. 

His hips are already grinding into her—Stoney can feel him sucking along her collarbone, that rough hand tugging on the back of her neck, “I’m impatient, baby. Need you to open up for me. C’mon.” 

He’s holding onto her legs, her ankles, pinning her down, and she’s squirming beneath him, “Baby, I’m gonna be too loud—“ He cuts her off with a harsh spank against her ass, Stoney turning her face within the pillow, mewling into it to mask the sound.

“You gotta’ let me take care of you, baby. “ 

She hears him, and her body thrums in pleasure. 

The way he says that, and the way his eyes glare down at her—it makes her thighs throb even more. 

“I know what you want.” 

His voice was low. 

“Come make my dick creamy, it’ll look so pretty after you’re done with it.” 

His words make Stoney’s breath hitch—it sounded crazy, but he knew allowing her to pleasure herself on top of him was all she needed. All she wanted. 

His tongue drags along her neck, her head kneeling up as she whimpers a breathless, “Fushiguro—”

“You know that’s all you gotta do, baby.” 

Another spank.

“Just come bounce for a little.” 

She pouts within the darkness. Toji could get away with murder, his words proved that every time. The balls of her feet laid against the plush of their king sized bed, fingers along his chest as his arms are stretched atop the pillows—Stoney’s going, bouncing her hips onto his dick, down to meet the glare of his face, her lips screwing into a frown as she whimpered defeatedly. 

“There you go, baby.“ 

He puts his larger hand on her lower back for support. Toji’s breath becomes slightly deeper, but his eyes stay on her face, admiring her through the moonlight casting in the window.

Stoney’s hands slide around the clench of his jaw. Her thighs are quivering, eyes rolling as she pouts deeper, “U—Ughn…” 

Her hair shadows the frame of her flushed face, head leaning into his body as she just. Kept. Going.

“Put all that noise on my mouth, baby. You know I like that shit.” 

She’s becoming more dazed as the seconds pass. But she listens, dragging her mouth up to reach his, centimeters apart as she breathily whines in the softest way.

She admits, “Love you, Fushiguro.“

“I love you.”

He kisses her. His mouth swipes her lower lip, taking her whole.

Stoney’s arms cradle along his shoulders and neck, eyes flickering to his hands that go back to the pillows beside him, never planning on moving themselves. He loved seeing her this way, barely having to touch Stoney in the process as she lost herself on top of him. 

She tried to cover it, but she exhaled another whine, one of her fingers slipping between her lips as she moved above him—her thighs clapped against his abdomen, the sticky cream of her arousal beginning to collect between their skin. She moans, “Fuck.” 

His eyes narrow. 

“Do you hear how good that sounds?” 

His abdomen slants from the way he lays beneath her body. The sculpt of his muscles, his tattooed frame—the sight makes it all the more worse—including the way he talks to her. 

Stoney nod, “It’ssoogood, baby.” 

He grunts, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty.” 

His large hands come down to her hips, where he begins to guide her. It’s rougher, lifting and tugging her down like she weighed nothing. Her hands find placement on his knees behind herself—curls draping as she knocks her head back, groaning, “Ohmygod, baby…”

She wraps her fingers around to find the nape of his neck, tugging him forward in a way that he sits up against the headboard—they’re both grinding to meet each other, breathless, panting—whimpers pull from the both of their lips, Toji unable to find a place for his hands to go— he’s dragging his fingers into the flesh of her back, circling and guiding her hips down, fucking her in a way that she feels him. 

Toji’s palms swipe along her hips, his large hand grabbing at her hair, tugging back gently. Stoney’s moans echo

within the large room. 

“It feels good, huh?” Toji grunts, “You hear me?”

Stoney’s head kneels back—her chest arching forward, a soft cry in her throat. 

“Ye—yeah, baby. I—I can hear you.”

She’s dipping her hips lower, taking a deep breath as she admits in a soft whine, “My stomach feels a lil’ heavy, baby…”

Toji groans at that—his fingers gently go along her jaw as he leans down, kissing her deep—it’s messy, and it’s hot. Stoney cries a whine into his mouth, his muscles flexing with each movement, his thrusts deep, hitting the spot within her pussy makes her body vibrate. 

“Let me hold you—“ he huffs, “C’mere, Momma.”

The discomfort decreases the moment he takes full control. She’s wet, folds gripping onto his tip each time his balls schluck in contract with her arousal. 

“T—Toji…I’m…” she gasps, “Sensitive, baby. I’m cumming,” she whimpers to him, shocked by the intense waves within her body already. 

“I know,” he grunts, “Cum, baby. Need to see how pretty your pussy looks after. Want it all, give it to me.”

Her fingers dip back into the nape of his hair, tugging him into burying his lips within her neck—she gasps as pleasure rips through her body, tears blinking within her vision as she quivers. She tucks her mouth within his shoulder, other hand clawing the skin of his back.

Toji moans when she buries her face in his shoulder, equal pleasure coursing through his body as he cums inside of her. Stoney’s body was warm against him, her fingers gripping at his hair—he felt her body spazzing, holding onto her in a way that made her feel safe—his tongue dips along the crook of her neck, his other hand caressing along her cheek. She’s panting, and it makes him press his nose against her cheek.

Her face is flushed, keeping her eyes hidden within his shoulder as she softly whispers, “…You think the girls are asleep?”

He hums, “They better be,” Toji grunts, a smirk on his face as he turns, his gaze flickering to her messy locks. 

His fingers comb them, Stoney pulling her head up so that their noses are pressed together. Her lashes flutter, and he chuckles.

“Don’t laugh,” she softly whimpers, “Think I might be getting those cramps again.”

“What do you need?” His voice is immediately concerned, his large palms cupping her cheeks to give her his warmth, “Wanna’ take a bath? Go back to sleep after?”

She nods, “Some warm water and that milk rice soap would be perfect. Will you come sit with me?” 

Before he could answer, a small voice carried on the other side of the door—it’s Sai’s, “Mommy! One of the girls threw up!”

Toji leans his head into Stoney’s, hearing her soft giggle as he smacks his lips, “After I go handle that.”

The moment he gets up, Stoney’s eyes follow him—tattoos, muscles, dark hair, frown and all—he was hers. 

She reaches up for his hand, tugging him a bit as she questions, “You know something?”

“What is it?” 

He’s already pulling his gray sweats on, not yet meeting her eye. 

Stoney’s fingers cup his jaw, pulling him back to meet her gaze. Her eyes twinkle, her voice soft, “That I love you.”

Toji stares at her for a moment, feeling the warmth of her fingers along his face—her eyes tell him the very same words. He smiles, his larger hand cupping hers. 

“I love you too, Solaya.”

“Promise?”

“More than Mochi loves apples, woman.”

Stoney giggles, “You must really love me.”

“Always, you know that shit.”

And he meant it. Always. 

[suliigwp]

@tammyfortis commenting on... MY WOMAN

MY WOMAN

---Max Verstappen, Lando Norris , Carlos Sainz, Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Lewis Hamilton

SULI: Hi thank you so much for requesting! The same gazz, short bit sweet! God he's so cute I love him so much

Warnings: Men.

It started with a canceled meeting.

A polite, clipped email. A changed schedule. No explanation.

She stared at her screen, rereading the words that didn’t say what they meant.

“Due to an internal realignment of panel priorities, we will be shifting today’s roundtable to a closed-door session. Thank you for your understanding.”

She hadn’t misread it. They were shutting her out.

She’d spent a week preparing—building arguments, threading together lines of thought, staying up too late fact-checking herself because she wanted to show up as more than just someone’s girlfriend. She was good at what she did. She deserved that seat.

And they took it from her.

The hotel suite was silent, the kind of silence that made your breath feel too loud. She sat back, laptop screen fading to a dim glow, and closed her eyes just as she heard the door click open.

Max was back.

He moved with that quiet restraint he only used when something was wrong—shoulders tense, jaw set, steps deliberate.

She turned her head as he walked in, setting his jacket down more carefully than necessary. He wasn’t saying anything. That was the first sign.

“You hungry?” she asked gently, watching him.

He shook his head. No eye contact. Just a low, “No.”

She frowned. “Did something happen?”

His back was to her now, hands gripping the edge of the dresser like he needed something to hold him still.

“I talked to someone,” he said finally.

She straightened. “About?”

He looked over his shoulder. And the look in his eyes—tight, muted, burning behind the quiet—made her stomach twist.

“They pulled you from the panel,” he said. “Said your background didn’t align with the ‘focus’ of the event.”

Her brows drew in. “That doesn’t even make sense. I literally—what else did they say?”

Max hesitated. His jaw ticked.

“They said your presence might distract from the ‘core messaging’—that there were concerns you’d make things uncomfortable. Too sharp. Too critical. And that your relationship with me would… complicate the optics.”

That was it. The moment her blood went cold.

“Are you serious?” she breathed.

He nodded. “Dead serious.”

“And what did you say?” she asked, standing now, voice tight.

He turned fully. Calm. Too calm.

“I said they should be ashamed. That if they were threatened by a woman who knew her facts better than they did, they didn’t deserve to be on a panel at all. I told them they were cowards hiding behind corporate jargon. I told them—”

“Max.” Her voice cut through his.

He stopped.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

His face didn’t change. “I wasn’t going to let them talk about you like that.”

“I could’ve fought back. I could’ve handled it—”

“You didn’t even know yet.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Her voice broke a little, frustrated. “It’s not about what you said—it’s that you didn’t even tell me. You handled it behind my back.”

Now he stepped forward. Not angry. Steady. Firm.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew it would hurt. And I didn’t want you sitting here thinking you weren’t good enough because some spineless men couldn’t handle your voice in the room.”

She stared at him, chest rising and falling.

“I don’t need you to defend me because I’m a woman,” she said. Her voice wasn’t cold—it was quiet. Bruised.

Max didn’t flinch.

“I’m not defending you because you’re a woman.”

He stepped closer, voice dropping low, warm like a slow flame.

“I’m doing it because you’re my woman.”

That silence between them grew thick. Tangled with emotion.

“You think I can stand in the paddock and watch them reduce you to a plus-one? Watch them act like you don’t belong? You think I’m going to stay quiet when they erase the hours you put in to be taken seriously?”

She didn’t know what to say.

Max’s voice softened even more. “I know you can fight your own battles. You’ve done it your whole life. But you shouldn’t have to. Not when I’m here. Not when it’s us.”

Something in her gave way. Not anger. Not surrender. Just the weight of it all, the exhaustion of always having to prove herself.

She stepped into him without another word, her forehead pressing into his chest. Max’s arms came around her instantly, anchoring her to something steady. Something safe.

He held her like she wasn’t a burden to carry. Like she was worth protecting. Like he saw her.

“I’m tired,” she whispered.

“I know,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “I know.”

They stood there in the quiet, the sun fading outside the window.

And then he said, almost like a promise:

“Next time, we fight them together.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

On god I need to kiss Sentry like my life depends on it. Just absolutely smooch that man

I don't know if this classifies as a request or a confession

Honestly anon it can be both a request and a confession. A confession request…request confession…never let me name shit because both sound like ass. Also sentry gives off ‘I don’t need affection’ but will lean his head into you when you do give him affection. He’s a liar and does in fact need affection.

Sentry blinks in surprise when he felt you kiss his cheek, brief and gentle, before pulling away with a smile upon your face.

‘What was that?’ He asks.

‘A kiss on the cheek just for you.’ You replied before pecking his other cheek really quick. ‘And that was because I didn’t want to leave the other side out. Just don’t seem fair. You act like you’ve never had affection before.’ You added as you watched Sentry straighten his posture and puff out his chest a little like birds would do, thinking you wouldn’t notice but you did and chose to keep this to yourself instead; For a being so powerful and beautiful as him, he still held the second guessing, the doubts and the insecurities he’s always harboured even as Bob, something that seemingly was passed over onto Sentry.

‘I’ve had affection before.’ Sentry replied stiffly as though you had caught him in his own lie, while you didn’t doubt he had been given affection but it must’ve been a long while, long enough that he must’ve forgotten how simple and comforting a simple kiss or a reassuring hand on the shoulder could be. You wanted to be the one who reminded him of such softness and warmth.

‘Then you wouldn’t mind if I kept doing it then?’ You say as you were quick to kiss his jaw, then his chin before scattering even more kisses across to wherever you could get to, whether it’s his hands and fingers or the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose. You just wanted to kiss everything your eyes laid upon for Sentry -for Bob- he was the most beautiful man you’ve ever met who’s ever made you feel as you did now, and ever since laying eyes upon him you knew something within you changed and you didn’t want to go back to how you were before him.

Sentry -while being bombarded with your affection- closed his eyes and allowed himself to lean into your kisses, allowing you easier access to kiss his brow and his hairline, as well as his temples and corners of his lips that you ghosted over teasingly to kiss upon another aspect of his face. You had to hold his face between your hands because of how far forward he was leaning towards you, holding Sentry in place as you continued to pepper him in kisses, feeling him hum in content with each and every one you gave him and making disgruntled noises of discontent when you stopped for even a second.

‘I can’t keep kissing you forever!’ You laughed as you felt Sentry press his head against your lips, silently demanding for more of your kisses.

‘Not an excuse, and while we’re at it you also always avoid kissing me on the lips for some reason when you do kiss me, why? I thought you love me?’ He murmurs as he noses your jaw softly, his hands tightening their grip on your waist, keeping you pressed against his chest as though there’s nowhere else he wanted you to be then with him.

‘I do love you!’ You replied, smiling widely at how eager Sentry was for your affection, always wanting more as if he could never be satisfied with what he already gets, craving for more to the point where he’d keep you caged within his arms until as he hogs all of your kisses for himself. He was cute when he’s not trying to be and it only made you even more prone to kissing his beautifully sculpted face, almost as though you’d never get another chance like this again. ‘I just don’t want to kiss you without at least asking you first.’

Sentry pulls away from you and looks you in the eye. ‘Then ask.’ He says without hesitation that it took you back a bit.

‘What-‘

‘Then ask to kiss me, please.’ Sentry repeats himself.

You rest your head against his, brushing your nose against his as you caressed his jaw, taking in how effortlessly perfect he looked up close as he did from afar, like a sculpture come to life because you were certain there could never been a man more beautiful then Sentry. ‘Can I kiss you? I’d really like to kiss you if you’d let me.’ You whispered.

‘Then kiss me already before I kiss you first.’ Sentry replied and without an ounce of hesitation you planted your lips against his and you both sighed in relief the second your lips began caressing his, weaving in and out of each other in a manner reflective of your passion for one another, all the while growing more and more addicted to the feeling of his lips against your own; So much to the point you condemned your need for air as you pulled away after what felt like forever in the kiss before planting one light kiss to his nose, smiling.

‘Was it worth it?’ You asked slightly out of breath.

‘I knew it would be worth it from the moment you kissed my cheek.’ He replied and you knew from that moment onwards you didn’t want to kiss anyone’s face or kiss anyone else other than Sentry for the rest of your life.

[rafescherie]

✮⋆˙ best friend rafe teaching you how to give head for the first time.

warnings — 18+. MDNI. best friend!rafe x best friend!reader. inexperienced reader. oral (m. receiving).

cherie's note — i can't tell if i like this or not

you and rafe had always blurred the lines — shared beds after parties, holding hands and sharing drinks, swapping secrets nobody else got to hear. so when you mumbled, voice low and uncertain, that you'd never gone down on anyone before, but wanted to learn for the perfect opportunity — his reaction was immediate. and shameless.

it should've felt wrong — best friends didn't do this. didn't sit between each other's legs like how you sat right now, inches away from the tip of his flushed cock, heart pounding like it meant something more. but rafe didn't flinch. he didn't second-guess.

"start slow," he murmured, fingers threading gently through your hair. his voice was low, smooth, soft enough to melt you. those sharp blue eyes fixed on you, watching like there was nowhere else on earth you were meant to be but right there, between his thighs.

"use your tongue — get it wet. just the tip, baby... like a tease."

you followed his lead, nerves sparking under your skin like a live wire. your kiss-swollen lips brushed over the swollen head of his cock, soft and tentative. your tongue slid out softly, tasting the bead of precum gathered at the tip — and he twitched in your hand the second you moaned at the taste.

the sound startled even you, stomach burning with shame. your body flushed, heat pooling low in your belly as you looked up at him, eyes wide.

"fuck, you're a natural," he breathed, "look at you."

rafe's hand fisted in your hair — rough, almost clumsy, like he didn't know where else to channel all of the feelings choking him. his fingers tangled at the roots, tugging just enough for you to pause, to make you feel it — the control, the urge he held within to follow his instincts and just take. but then, slowly, like the hunger in him dissolved into something quieter, he let go. his fingers loosened, dragging through the strands as they slipped free, knuckles brushing against your temple. that same hand — tired, unsure, shaking just a little — fell down to your cheek in one lazy motion, fingertips grazing your skin before his palm settled there instead, warm and hesitant.

your eyes met his — and that's when everything shifted — like you had only just realized what you were doing, and what this meant for the both of you. rafe's eyes changed, darkened in a way you'd never seen before. his chest rose with a sharp inhale, like he was trying so desperately to hold back against something dangerous — to be good, to be gentle.

"use your hand, too," he instructed, voice gruffer compared to before, strained with desire. "twist a little, yeah — like that. you feel how hard you're making me?"

you nod, mouth stretching around him as you took more, wide eyes gleaming and glassy, and oh so eager to please. "fuck, that's it. good girl. just like that."

he gripped the back of your head. gentle at first, caressing. then firmer, like the urge to control the situation had been burning low in his belly for hours. "gonna go deeper now," he muttered, half a moan, "breathe through your nose, sweet girl."

and before you could fully register his words, he pushed his hips up — slow but forceful, the thick weight of him pressing deeper into your throat. you gagged softly, hands bracing on his thighs for support. his chest rumbled with a barely contained moan, the noise itself sending a shock to your stomach, panties soaking from the noise alone — foreign, and filthy, and better than you had ever imagined.

"jesus," he hissed almost painfully, "you sound so fucking pretty when you choke."

up until now, he'd been holding back — barely, but the intention was there. this was learning, this was practice. but the sound of you gagging around him, the way your lashes fluttered and your nails dug into his thighs like you needed him — it flipped a switch he had been trying so desperately to hold back.

his jaw clenched as his hips bucked once more, less measured this time, like instinct had taken the wheel. his hand threaded tighter in your hair, gripping hard enough to anchor, to own. his restraint was obliterated by the sight of your spit-slick lips stretched around him and the trembling, needy noises you made when he didn't let you breathe.

"you're my perfect little cocksleeve now, huh?" he groaned, his hand tightening. your scalp burned. "didn't think best friends did this, but fuck — look at you. swallowing me down like it's what you were made for." your throat fluttered around him when he forced himself further down against the ache, the skin of his pelvic bone meeting the tip of your nose as he held you there. and that, was all it took.

rafe cursed — low and ragged — the thick ropes of his sperm shooting against your pliant, warm tongue. his hips jerked, one hand fisting your hair while the other cradled your jaw like he couldn't decide if he wanted to ruin you or worship you. "swallow it," he breathed, a light but firm slap delivered against your cheek, the sting making your cunt clench, "all of it."

and you did. instinctively, like this was second nature to you. your throat constricted against him a he groaned again, hips twitching from the aftershock.

when he finally pulled back, the thick and sticky string of saliva attached from the head of his flushed cock and your fuck-swollen lips had snapped, chin slick with a mixture of your own spit and his finish, mascara smudged from tears you hadn't realized were falling. and he stared back down at you — chest heavy, eyes wild.

"yeah," he said hoarsely, thumb dragging over your bottom lip, "we're definitely doing that again."

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Could you write something with Robby or jack where the reader gets her wisdom teeth out?

Loopy Girl

The Pitt Masterlist

Robby is leaving when Jack is coming in, while they're doing the handoff, Robby makes conversation.

"You have a day off soon?" he asks, noting Jack's exhaustion on his face.

"Yeah."

"Got any plans?"

Jack snorts, "My girl's getting her wisdom teeth removed, so I gotta take care of her."

Robby smirks, "Think she'll react well to the drugs?"

Jack's smirk matches his colleagues, "Absolutely. I'll have my camera ready and everything."

"Well good luck to her," Robby chuckles and then hands the last bit of charts to Jack, "Have fun." He then walks off towards the lockers to grab his stuff and get the hell out of there.

________________________________

Jack is waiting in the lobby of the dentist. You're rolled out in a wheelchair, your cheeks puffy due to the procedure and the cotton filled in your mouth.

Your head lulls to the side as your doctor gives Jack the run down about pain meds, rinsing your mouth, changing the cotton, etc.

You groggily look up at Jack and giggle. Jack smirks, "Hi, honey."

You point at him, "You're hot," you say, but it's slightly muffled due to the cotton in your mouth.

Your boyfriend chuckles, "Thanks, honey." The doctor hurries up the last bit of after care information and then asks if Jack needs assistance getting you into the car. Jack shakes his head and starts to roll you out of the building.

You begin to freak out, "No! No! Stop!"

Jack stops and rushes to face you, "Hey, hey. Baby, it's me. You're okay."

You sniffle, tears welling in your eyes, "I wanna go home."

He wipes at your eyes, "We're goin' home, baby. It'll just be a fifteen minute drive. That okay?"

You sniffle again and wipe at your eyes, "Okay," you mumble out and Jack proceeds to guide you to the car. He carries you to the passenger seat, and buckles you in. You immediately start looking around, messing with the buttons on the radio.

When Jack gets into the driver's seat, he looks at you with a smirk. He starts recording on his phone and propping it on the phone holder, angled towards you.

Your brows are furrowed as you push the different buttons, "Baby, what're you doing?" he asks.

"Trying to start the car."

Jack holds up the car key and shows you as he inserts it into the ignition and turns it, his car rumbling to life.

You giggle to yourself, "Oh." Jack laughs to himself and starts the drive home.

You seem to doze off during the drive and then jump awake when he parks the car. You look confused and a little scared. So Jack opens the door and approaches you like you're a scared animal.

"Baby, we're home. It's okay."

He helps you out of the car, and walks you into your shared home. Once the door closes behind you, you head to the couch and immediately lay down.

Jack laughs, "You sleepy, hon?"

"Yeah," you murmur, your eyes already fluttering closed.

"Wait, lemme change the cotton."

He rushes to you and opens your mouth. You groan in discomfort and he provides soothing words, "I know, sweetheart. It's really quick." he quickly slips on gloves to remove the bloody cotton and replaces them with new ones, "Okay. You're good. Are you in pain?"

You sleepily shake your head, "Sleepy."

He pulls a blanket over you, "Alright, sweetheart. Go to sleep," he kisses your head, "Let me know if you're in pain and I'll give you more pain meds."

"'Kay," you mumble and eventually fall asleep.

Hours later, your mouth is in pain, but you're no longer loopy. Still a little drowsy, but coherent.

"Jack?"

He looks up from the book he was reading, his glasses perched on his nose, "Right here, baby."

"Here," you open your arms, summoning your love to you.

He smiles and gets up from his sofa chair, moving over to the couch. You scoot forward so he can sit behind you. He leans back and hugs you from behind, "How're you feeling?"

"Like shit."

He snorts, "That's expected. Want meds?"

"Yes, please."

He grabs the bottle from the coffee table and the water bottle. He helps you take out the cotton and drink the water after popping the pills in your mouth.

After taking the medication and the cotton is replaced, you lean back against Jack, "So...how loopy was I?"

"Wanna see the videos?"

"Videos?! As in multiple?!

[utter-queer-nightmare]

1. Currently it's The Key Is from the Alice By Heart soundtrack (highly recommend!)

2. It's not really a "go to", but my old reliable is Kitchen Nightmares, it's so cathartic!

3. Ooh, that's a tough one... Probably reading, just because writing takes so much more effort 😅

4. I think it's called mirth? The feeling that makes you laugh. A close second is proper elation, the kind that makes you cry

5. I wrap myself up in a duvet and listen to an audiobook while doing something mindless with my hands. Always with a snack and drink

6. I don't light candles a lot, I'm not allowed them in my student halls. But I love the way "vanilla cake" candles always manage to specifically smell like cake, and not just vanilla.

7. Probably my friend who lives in my building. I do make an attempt to be good company, but I feel like I change myself the least around her.

8. The fur from my childhood bear, and the soft stretchy cotton blend most children's dresses are made of

9. My grandma used to pick me up from school and she'd always leave a packet of biscuits on the seat for me. I'd put music on and eat them on the way home, about a 45 minute drive.

10. Last night, I was re-listening to an audiobook and realised I'd forgotten about an especially funny scene. It took me completely by surprise 🤣

11. My childhood bear. He's a Harrods Christmas bear with the year on the foot. I'm a December baby and he was a birth present, the first present I ever got.

12. Music or books. Audiobooks when I'm too keyed up to focus on reading, and angry songs if I need to let it out before I can calm down.

13. Bath! I live in a flat that only has a shower, but I love the feeling of being submerged in water.

14. Short term, my university's summer ball is this weekend! Long term, the Hadestown proshot is confirmed and might be coming soon!

15. Either Italian or pub food. A nice spicy pasta or a proper hearty pie.

16. I've got a new colour by number book coming in the post, and I'm kind of planning/writing a new story.

17. Unconventional and very telling, but I feel so well cared for when I'm in hospital. I know it's not quite love, but I always feel so safe and looked after when I'm in hospital. And I think that's all love is. Being made safe and looked after.

18. Maybe late 20s/early 30s? I should be on ADHD meds by then, and have finished uni. Lower stress and brain noise.

19. Nope, but I did write a little letter to myself on here that should turn up in a few years. I think that counts as both?

20. Walking along the seafront in my hometown, usually eating ice cream. Sometimes with my mother/grandmother/siblings, sometimes with my friend, sometimes alone. Sometimes day, sometimes night. Feeling the wind on my face and smelling salt.

21. Hot chocolate, but it needs to be proper hot chocolate with milk instead of water, and plenty of sugar/sweetener!

22. Alice. It's made up of various songs that reminds me of the story of Alice in Wonderland. There's obviously a lot of Alice By Heart on there!

23. I have actually! A friend of a friend gave me some after one of our theatre shows, and later that year my mum sent some for my birthday.

24. I have two, one from the theatre group and one from my flat. I think I'm closer to the one from my flat.

25. I used to think it was purple, but I think it's pink now!

26. Somewhere luxurious and relaxing in Italy, and I'd probably bring my baby sister, but only once she's old enough to live away from our mum full-time

27. I'm quite ambivalent towards gardening. I dislike mud and I'm not very able-bodied, so I don't really consider it. I have some potted roses that have lasted almost a year though!

28. Probably that I'm still alive to be honest, closely followed by the sheer amount of hobbies and responsibilities I manage to fit into my life.

29. I don't know. Sometimes I think I am, or at least sometimes I think I try to be. But I'm also quite selfish and lazy. But I don't think it matters if I think I'm kind. It matters if other people think I'm kind. And I hope they do.

30. Colourful. I have ADHD, so I have a lot of hobbies. I'm part of a theatre group and an aerial/circus group. I bake once a week, and colour/write/sing as often as possible.

I know this isn't how this works, but it feels nice to do the whole list at once like this ☺️

✨soft asks✨

What song makes you feel better?

What is your go to comfort show?

Reading or writing? Why?

Whats your favorite feeling?

How do you like to take care of yourself?

What’s your favorite candle scent?

Who do you feel most like yourself around?

Whats a fabric/texture that’s nostalgic for you?

Best childhood moment?

When was the last time you laughed so hard you cried? (or just felt really good afterwards)

Do you have a comfort item? Tell us about it!

What calms you down?

Bath or shower to relax?

Whats something upcoming that you’re excited for?

Comfort food?

What’s something you want to create soon?

How do you feel best loved?

What age in life do you think you’ll feel most yourself at?

Have you ever written or received a love letter?

Tell us about a memory you hold close to your heart.

Tea, Coffee, or hot cocoa?

Name of your favorite playlist?

Have you ever received flowers?

Who is your bestfriend?

If your soul was a color, what would it be?

If you could live anywhere with anyone you want, where would it be and who would you bring?

Do you like to garden? Have you ever grown something?

What are you proudest of?

Are you a kind person?

What do your hobbies look like?

[floatyflowers]

Yandere Platonic/Romantic Various X Naruto Reincarnated Female! Reader, Part One.

Reincarnated into the body of Naruto Uzumaki, but now female. You thought you knew the story. You had the knowledge of a fan, the memories of the anime, and the will to survive the cruel world of shinobi. What you didn’t expect was how the story would twist around you. The characters you once admired? Now they look at you with possessive eyes whether it's Romantic or Platonic.

You had prepared for a life of isolation in a tiny apartment, eating expired cup ramen, dodging glares from villagers.

But the timeline cracked the moment Mikoto Uchiha pulled you into her arms in the Hokage’s office and refused to let go.

"I won’t allow another child to suffer when I can give them a home," she said, her tone firm but her touch gentle.

Fugaku's eyes had been sharp, suspicious. He looked at you not just as an outsider, but as a threat. And you knew why. He feared what you housed in your body. Kurama. The Nine-Tails fox.

But then you clutched the hem of his cloak, with a big smile, letting out baby squeals of happiness.

You felt his chakra shift. His composure faltered. Mikoto smiled knowingly.

From that day on, Fugaku treated you like a daughter.

Itachi was the first to truly see you.

He watched you during dinner. The way you’d laugh and play with Sasuke, and the way you would interact with him.

Children your age don't go on saying fall sentences once they teeth, nor do they write in a perfect way.

"You don’t need to act around me," he whispered one evening when he found you curled up on the veranda, your eyes reflecting the moonlight.

You turned to him. "...I don’t know how else to survive."

He looked at you for a long moment before pulling you into his arms. "Then I will protect you. From them. From everyone."

From that moment on, Itachi's gentle exterior became something far more intense. He brought you dango after missions, trained with you longer than necessary, and held your hand a little too tightly when other boys looked your way.

He called it brotherly love. But it wasn't.

Sasuke masked his possessiveness as rivalry and jealousy.

He pretended he was jealous of Itachi spending time with you and tried to always attract his brother's attention by making the older boy train him.

And when you asked Itachi to train you too, Sasuke would intervene.

"You should have Okaa-san train you instead, because you lack in cooking and cleaning."

It wasn’t long before Sasuke started to show his possessiveness.

At first, he was your shadow. Always following you around. Always watching.

You noticed the change when you sparred with another boy in class and he bled your lip.

Sasuke didn’t speak that entire day. But the boy mysteriously broke his arm that evening.

You knew it was Sasuke.

And you knew if you called him out, he’d only smile that innocent Uchiha smile and say,

“I was just training with him."

Fugaku sought to suppress your Uzumaki heritage by having Mikoto dress you in the Uchiha clan's colors, replacing the Uzumaki crest with their own. Even your hair was styled in the traditional fashion of Uchiha women, further erasing any visible ties to your true lineage.

The night of the massacre came far sooner than you expected.

You knew it was inevitable, this world, this story, always carved in blood.

But you hadn’t expected the ache. The sense of wrongness that came with the silence that night.

The compound was too still. No candles in the windows. No echo of Sasuke’s footsteps. Just the wind, and the faint scent of iron.

You stepped outside barefoot, the gravel cold beneath your feet. That’s when you saw Mikoto and Fugaku in their own blood.

And then you heard footsteps.

Slow. Calm. Familiar.

Itachi.

“You weren’t supposed to see this.”

He stood in the hallway, his ANBU mask discarded at his side. His eyes burned red.

Blood was splattered across his uniform. Across his hands.

"W-Why?" your voice cracked, your body trembling. "Why did you-?"

"I told you,” he said softly. "If they ever tried to take you from me, I would stop them."

You didn’t understand.

He walked toward you, kneeling before you slowly like you might shatter. His fingers wiped Mikoto’s blood from your cheek with careful tenderness.

"They were planning to use you. To harness the Nine-Tails again. I couldn’t let them turn you into a weapon for their revolt."

With a cold stare, and voice, he says.

"Don't tell Sasuke the truth."

Those were the last words you heard from him before seeing Sasuke breakdown at the sight of his dead parents after returning home.

After Sasuke confronts Itachi, and the older brother lies to him before leaving, Sasuke turns for you to find comfort.

"I will kill him, [Name]. I’ll make him pay for what he did to our clan. To you."

You turned to face him and froze.

He wasn’t just angry.

He was burning.

And when he looked at you, it wasn’t as a teammate. Or a friend. Or even a brother.

It was someone who had chosen you.

"You were the only one he left alive," he whispered.

"The only one he spared. I know what he did to you even if you won’t say it."

You tried to explain that Itachi has done nothing to you in any manner, but Sasuke doesn't allow you to do so.

He stepped forward, gripping your hand.

"And together we will restore the Uchiha Clan."

[swanlikely]

Caleb's Love Languages!

Author's Note: Caleb is my favorite (obviously) and it only felt right that he’d be the first in this little love language series. He’s just so ugh?!! Check out the artist! (Artist & Original Post)

✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖✧₊🦢🫖₊

Cold hand, warm heart: Caleb’s metal hand might be cool to the touch, but he always uses it to cup your face when you’re tired or hold your waist when he’s guiding you through a crowd. He claims it’s because it “calms your nervous system,” but he also loves how you lean into it every time.

Food = love: He’s always cooking for you. Always. If he’s not home, there’s something labeled in the fridge (with a heart drawn next to it, of course). If you mention craving something in passing, you’ll find it on your plate the next day. You once said his cooking was better than any five-star restaurant. He hasn’t shut up about it since.

You talk, he listens: Caleb remembers everything you say; even when it seems like he’s not paying attention. You mentioned once that your favorite flower is out of season? He’ll find a way to get it anyway. You like your water with lemon? He’s already set it down before you ask.

Little helper, big show-off: He insists on doing the heavy lifting. Carries all the groceries. Changes your light bulbs. Reaches every tall shelf. And sure, it’s helpful, but it’s also an excuse. You catch him glancing at you while he’s hoisting something heavy, looking goofy as hell. “Go on, say it,” he’ll tease. “Tell me I’m strong.”

He brags. Just a little. Just for the praise: Caleb doesn’t boast much, but when it comes to you, he gets so smug. “Pips said I’m the best cook she’s ever had.” “My girl can’t sleep without my hand on her.” It’s obnoxious. Well, it’s actually kind of cute; like he’s proud of how well he loves you.

Overall: Acts of Service (Giving) & Words of Affirmation (Receiving)

You never have to ask twice. Or once. He just does things. Keeps your car topped up. Fixes the crooked picture frame. Gets the oil changed. It’s how he says I love you, I see you, I’ve got you. And he loves being needed.

“This is sweet but you don’t have to do all this, you know,” you tell him one morning, as he ties your shoes because you’re still half-asleep. As he fusses with the laces, you reach down and run your fingers through his soft brown hair. He smiles.

“I know,” he says simply, without looking up. “But you let me.”

And that’s what makes him happy.

[lazysoulwriter]

too much (in all the right ways) - pedro pascal.

requested! thank you. ♡content: Pedro Pascal x reader, emotional comfort, soft insecure Pedro, physical affection, reassurance, love language overload, wholesome fluff.

---

It started with distance.

Not dramatic, not cold. Just... subtle. Barely-there changes you wouldn’t have noticed if you didn’t know him like you did.

He stopped reaching for your hand while watching movies. No more absentminded kisses to your shoulder when he passed behind you in the kitchen. He still touched you — just not as freely. Like he was holding something back.

By day four, you’d had enough.

You waited until he was brushing his teeth that night, then walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

He stilled.

“You’re pulling away from me.”

He met your eyes in the mirror, toothbrush still in his mouth.

“…What?”

“You haven’t been touching me like you usually do. You’ve gone full no hands Pedro and I don’t like it.”

He spit out his toothpaste, rinsed, then leaned against the sink, hands braced.

A beat.

“I didn’t want to annoy you.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I—I know I can be... clingy. I always want to be touching you. I’m like a human golden retriever and sometimes I wonder if you just let me because you’re too nice to say anything.”

Your heart broke in six directions.

“Pedro—”

He looked down, voice quieter. “I just... don’t want to be too much for you.”

You stepped between his arms, hands sliding up his chest. “Look at me.”

He did.

“You are never too much. Not your hands, not your kisses, not your clinginess. I love that you want to be near me. I need it. You make me feel safe when you do that.”

His breath caught.

You smiled, gentle. “You could cling to me 24/7 and I’d still want more.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Come here.”

You pulled him into a hug and he melted, arms wrapping tight around your waist, forehead pressed into your neck.

“You promise you’re not just saying that?”

“I swear.” You kissed his cheek. “You’re my favorite touchy man.”

“I’m gonna hold you all night.”

“Good. Don’t let go.”

He smiled into your skin, and that night — he didn’t.

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

---

taglist: @sarahhxx03 @lloydmustache @lolareadsimagines @greenwitchfromthewoods @silksepia @pascalswiftie @itstokyo-cos @mani-pedro @llsister @authorbriannarae13 @introvrtedjellyfish @aj0elap0l0gist @spencercmlover @cixrosie @cherrqbaby @cup-half-full-of-anxiety @kellyxo1 @freakbobcult @sunlightpleasure @barnes70stark @mooniscrying @ohnaurshayla @croissantbakerylws @nellispunk @kasienka @taylorswiftsrep-blog @emerencedaily @byzyz @noovaarq @kristend512

---

[ohlookitsakiralupin]

Seriously, this is real! Adding to this just a bit, because I feel like it-

How bad can a fall down the stairs be?

BAD

Paralyzation is one of the big ones, because *anything* can happen when your going feel-over-head down stairs, carpet or no. Compared to that, I got off easy. But compared to people who think it’s nothing, I didn’t.

A while ago I got pushed down about 17 stairs, carpeted by the way, and it took me about a month after that to realize something had changed. Sure, it hurt my head at first, but that went away. No, it took me that long to realize something was wrong with my back. I, being stupid, ignored it for a while.

I ended up quitting gymnastics because of it. I still don’t know exactly what’s wrong with it, and I let it go too long. Now it’s been a few years, and I still feel it every day.

This stuff is way too real, and there needs to be a very real awareness about it.

Uh, anyways, if you actually made it to his far I congratulate you, and then I ask what the fuck your doing wasting your time reading my little thing here, but I appreciate it! Lol

one of the culprits here in the public obliviousness about covid is that medical science has completely failed to integrate the fact that infections and injuries have permanent effects into wider culture. it has been documented and known for decades that narcolepsy follows viral and bacterial infections but most doctors wont mention this to you and many of them dont even know about it. every single time you get strep throat, an ear infection, the flu, food poisoning, a bonk on the head, major surgery, sepsis, or cold sores, you have a N% chance to develop permanent disability from it. the 'shit happens' principle of medical science has been seemingly purposefully erased from the public consciousness and im not entirely sure why. american litigiousness and the drug testing process maybe. getting food poisoning from someone not washing their hands before making your meal at a restaurant can not just kill you, but it can give you a permanent chronic illness like narcolepsy, chronic fatigue syndrome, gastroparesis, whatever. instead of this just being common knowledge we have this bizarre concept of diseases as being ineffable and irresistible but simply an inconvenience all good citizens must endure

[lilacgaby]

katsuki wasn't an overprotective boyfriend type.

he believed that excessive rules in a relationship stemmed from insecurity, and insecurity is not something the future number one hero should suffer from.. at least excessively.

but a lot of his principles changed when you two got married and discussed boundaries. but all that was thrown out the window when you got pregnant and he discovered..

he was a bit of a helicopter husband.

and that was putting it lightly. you'd get a text every hour asking where you were. another text asking what you ate and encouraging you to eat more. a call every patrol where all he wanted was for you to put your belly close to the mic so he could speak to the baby, before he was usually interrupted by a villain. "sorry kid, wait up. gotta beat this extra into the ground-"

"who are you even talking to man?"

it got significantly worse when you'd been called in as support for a particularly dangerous uprising of villains.

forget morning sickness— he was going to throw up worrying about you.

against his orders though, he dragged you off into a cleared area, and sat you down on a beam from a destroyed building. he had to, ignoring your protests and the yells for him to stop and go assist other heroes, he genuinely couldn't focus with the thought of you in the back of his mind.

"stay here." he ordered, hands on his hips after he fixed and laid you down against the wall, ignoring your crossed arms and annoyed expression.

"it's literally my job to just stay back and assist. i don't get why i can't be over there in the radius of my quirk."

he let out a deep sigh, "they need you over there but i need you here. fuckin' safe and sound." he got down onto one knee to be eye-level with you.

"i know you want to fight, but can't you just get that it's different now?" his gloved hand found your stomach mindlessly, as if for emphasis. he gently rubbed around, like he was looking for the baby.

"you can't be mad at me for caring. i'd be an ass if i just let you stay there."

begrudgingly, you rolled your eyes and uncrossed your arms. well, more like he pulled them apart.

"not mad. more like.. mildly annoyed."

"mildly." he laughed under his breath, "you can be any level of upset. long as you keep your ass here." he got up, stretching his neck as he put his gear back on.

"don't you dare move, i'll be back as soon as i kill this dipshit."

"i thought you said no cursing around the baby."

he only shrugged. "eh, censorship is for nerds."

but even with all this, you couldn't get this man to admit he was overprotective. even as he sat across a interviewer, with them retelling the actions that he'd done that day, he held a neutral expression.

"i wouldn't call myself an overprotective anything. im just really fucking good at everything i do, so to some losers it might look like a lot."

"but aren't hourly calls a bit much..?"

"again. losers wouldn't get it."

type of guy to say "we're pregnant" instead of "she's pregnant".. helpppp

[missdaddycool]

Joel miller x wife reader

Summary : Joel work everyday for creat the most perfect room for their baby

A/N : hi lovely people, i decided make part two of my last short story you can find on my masterlist if you want read the p.1 tell me what you think in comments and if I should make p.3 :)

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚

Jackson 📍

The first hammer strike came just after dawn.

The sky was still bruised with night, the kind of pale indigo that never quite turned blue anymore. The kind of morning where the silence pressed in. But Joel was already up, sleeves rolled, work gloves tight on his hands.

Y/N heard him moving around before the sun had fully risen. She turned in bed, hand slipping over the swell of her belly, and listened to the low mutter of tools being moved, wood scraping against stone. He’d started without breakfast. Again.

She pulled herself upright, every movement slow, careful. At seven months pregnant, her body wasn’t hers anymore—it was a house being lived in by someone else, and she was just the walls creaking. But she didn’t complain. Not much use for it. Joel had taken on all the worry in the room and then some.

Out in the main room of their house in Jackson, Joel was hunched over a spread of rough wood slats, measuring and marking, the furrow between his brows already carved deep. Sawdust floated in the shafts of light like falling ash. He was building a crib. From scratch.

“Morning,” she said softly.

He looked up, startled like she’d caught him doing something wrong. “Shit—did I wake you?”

“No louder than the kid kicking me in the ribs all night.”

He gave a tired smile, barely there, and wiped a hand down his jaw. “Almost done with the frame. Thought I’d get the sanding started today. Wanna make sure there ain’t no splinters.”

Y/N leaned against the doorframe, hand resting on the top of her belly. “You’ve been working on that thing like it’s gonna be inspected by the goddamn president.”

Joel didn’t laugh. His hands stilled. “Just want it right.”

She could see it then—underneath the worn denim, the rough hands, the permanent scowl—he was scared. Joel Miller wasn’t a man easily shaken. But this? This shook him. Not the building. The becoming.

“I know you do,” she said gently, crossing to him and laying a hand on his shoulder. “But you don’t have to do all this alone.”

Joel shook his head, eyes on the crib’s unfinished railings. “I do.”

And that was the truth of it. He needed to. Maybe it was guilt, or maybe it was love, but either way, it kept him up at night.

He hadn’t said it out loud, not once, but Y/N could feel it in every screw turned too tight, every piece of wood planed down to a shine. He remembered Sarah in everything he touched. And Ellie, too—somewhere in the ache behind his eyes. This time had to be different. He wasn’t gonna fuck it up again.

By midday, he’d moved on to painting. A soft sage green, hand-mixed. The color didn’t scream baby, but it was peaceful, quiet. Like he hoped their world could be—at least in one room.

Y/N brought him water, sandwiches, sat nearby in the rocking chair he’d dragged in the day before. She watched him work, watched the tension in his back, the way he squinted at every edge like he was afraid it might bite.

“You think the kid’ll sleep in it?” he asked finally, voice low, like the question might splinter the silence.

“Probably not right away,” she said with a smile. “But eventually, yeah. They’ll love it.”

He gave a grunt that could’ve meant anything.

“Joel,” she said, “they’re not gonna care if the crib’s perfect. They’re gonna care if you’re there.”

His shoulders tensed. Then dropped. “What if I ain’t enough?”

“ You are.” She said it without hesitation. “You’ve already done more than most would. You’re here. You stayed. That’s everything.”

He looked over at her, eyes shadowed with something old and worn but still open—still trying. “Don’t wanna let ’em down.”

“Then don’t. Be here. Change diapers. Lose sleep. Love them hard.”

He looked at the crib, now painted, drying in the corner like some kind of promise. Then he looked at her. And the smallest, realest smile touched his mouth.

“I can do that.”

She smiled back, reached for his hand. His fingers were calloused and rough with work, but he held her like she was the only soft thing left in the world.

Outside, the wind picked up. Snow would come soon. But inside, in that small nursery of wood and paint and sweat, there was warmth. Not safety—not in this world—but something like hope.

Joel squeezed her hand. “I’ll finish it tomorrow.”

Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder. “We’ve got time.”

And for once, they believed it.

[occamstfs]

Twink Turnabout

In desperate need of release, dom daddy Rob hits up the nearest twink he can find on Grindr. Arriving at Mattie's though, the king of the gym and femmest of bottoms find their identities realign as they grind a mile in the other's shoes.

Been a minute since I did a steamy one! Here's a muscle theft/role swap, Twink -> Dom and vice versa, hope you enjoy! -Occam

It had been a long day at work for Rob. Going hard at the gym only riled him up more. Thank GOD there’s always twinks down to fuck clicking on his faceless Grindr profile. Checking his pump and changing into a slightly less sweat stained tank, Rob leaves without showering to an uptown address sent by some easy to please bottom. 

There’s little on his mind besides lust as he walks down the city streets, while one bitch in the hand is worth two in the bush, he can’t help but try and cruise on the way. Never know when an even easier fuck’ll present itself, not like he owes anything to this ‘Mattie.’ Rob’s sure the hole’ll find someone else to fill it before the sun rises. Though, smirking, Rob knows no one who’ll be nearly as good a lay as himself.

Today the streets are quiet. Rob returning to Plan A of getting his much needed release, arrives and waits to be buzzed up to the twink’s third floor studio. Opting for the stairs to work up a little more musk, bitches love that, he sprints up in short order and aggressively knocks on Mattie’s door. Impatiently waiting before knocking even more, he takes a few moments to actually look deeper at the twink’s own profile.

Eyes grow wide at what a prize he seems to have caught, assuming he’s not being catfished. Fuck- man’s so fem he might as well be a chick. The trade’s cock throbs against his gym shorts as he bites his lip to distract from his overwhelming lust. Bitch can’t look this good in person, he tells himself. No way. Shifting in place he makes sure his bulge is obvious to make sure that when the door’s answered that Mattie will have no choice but to notice.

Groaning in impatience as his cock only grows harder, the hot headed stud slams his fist into the door even harder. After a second round of this the door opens and Mattie is revealed to be just as, if not more, alluring than his profile suggests. Seeing his pouty lips and an almost translucent nightgown hanging off his thin figure, Rob has to hold back from tackling him at the threshold. 

Looking him up and down with a hunger few can understand, Rob pushes it down and greets him as he would literally anyone else, with a nod and intensive lowering of his already deep voice, he offers a “Sup.” Rob tells himself the blush painted on the twink’s face is from seeing him rather than the makeup it clearly is.

Mattie’s focussed eyes glitter with something Rob doesn’t even try to understand, the words that spill from his mouth are all that matters, “Come on in daddy~” Stomach turning from how much he needs this twink bouncing on his cock, he has no choice but to oblige. 

Following in his footsteps for but a moment, as soon as he closes the door behind them Rob rushes to grab the fae Mattie. Thick sweaty arms wrapped around his impossibly thin shoulders and a dripping bulge pressed firmly into the twink’s back, Rob has no idea in his mind but to get this done quick and dirty. His plans are promptly shot as Mattie turns in his arms and puts a finger to the brute’s lips. 

“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves Rob. Wouldn’t want you to have me at anything but my best~” Directing the dom to sit on his bed and wait while he finishes preparing, Mattie delights as the horny animal groans in impatience. Hearing the man constantly shift from discomfort on the bed, Mattie taunts him as he disrobes and takes in his reflection.

Thin fingers trailing down his pale neck as he allows his ephemeral robe flitter to the floor, Mattie’s sharp eyes drift from appreciating his own porcelain face and perfumed locks to staring at Rob squirming on the bed. “So, DomRob2, I take it as soon as you bust a load in my ass you’re back out the door?” 

Almost drooling as much from his mouth as his cock is dripping pre, the top rolls his eyes. Ugh. He can never just pump and dump these days. These fucking twinks ride his ass, they’re just as bad as chicks. For half a second Rob considers his response before realizing he doesn’t care enough to get in the bitch’s head. Mattie seems like he wants foreplay, being honest’ll probably seem like playing along.

Scratching his pubes through his stained athletic shorts he shrugs, “Yeah, that was the plan.” Finally Mattie turns from basking in his reflection, coyly smiling with a dark look in his eyes that Rob simply assigns to hunger. Finally. Small bulge revealed in tight, white briefs the twink saunters over to join Rob on his bed. 

Gently resting his arms on Rob’s back as the top almost vibrates with need, Mattie leans in close. Gently biting his ear, the twink whispers, ethereal, “All I needed to hear.” Rob’s rough hands find the man’s impossibly thin waist as he begins to grind against the jock’s crotch. Thick fingers race down to free his throbbing cop but Mattie reaches down to keep the hands focused on himself, forcing them to cup his thick ass.

Mattie’s wet lips swiftly shift to Rob’s mouth, scratching his cheek against the man’s beard as he does so. Rob’s own mouth twitches as the twink moves to begin making out. Ugh, he hates kissing his lays, just needless distraction from what really matters. His cock. Nevertheless, when Mattie’s pillowy lips find their way to his own, Rob is immediately beside himself in delight at how much he loses himself in Mattie’s mouth as his deep moans echo in the bedroom.

Fingers tracing against Rob’s muscular back as he pulls off the trade’s top, stuck to him with sweat, Mattie continues grinding against the man’s leaking crotch. Ever possessed with his pleasure alone, Rob doesn’t notice or care as Mattie performs his work in silence, completely buried by selfish lust and his own loud, needy grunts and groans.

Aggressively forcing his tongue into Mattie’s mouth as his thick hands creep into Mattie’s tight briefs, as soon as he feels the smooth ass directly, Rob opens his eyes to find Mattie staring directly at him. Pulling back in shock his moans immmediately stop as he grunts out a “what the fuck?” before his hips flex and he loses control. Mattie pushes him back onto the bed as the dom whines and thrusts into his shorts. All the while Mattie continues to grind into him with a grin.

Rob’s voice cracks as Mattie lies down over top of him, aiming to cover the burly man like a blanket with his own smooth body, feeling his cock twitch between two layers of fabric through two layers of fabric. He interrupts Rob before his cracking voice can form words, “Girlll- Thought you were an alpha not a one-pump chump?” Mattie’s taunts can barely be heard by the man as his mouth falls open as he cums loosely into his shorts. Mattie sits up and grins as the real show is soon to start. 

Struck woozy from just how powerful his release is, Rob struggles to sit up. Groaning, his arms feel weak as he pushes up off the bed. Must’ve gone harder than he thought at the gym? It’s not just that though, it’s like he’s completely drained? His legs under Mattie feel similarly tired despite the total lack of effort involved in his brief session with Mattie. Or no, it’s like, Mattie suddenly feels heavier?

Sitting up his arms almost reflexively go to hug the man sitting on his lap before he grimaces. Ugh, what’s gotten into him? This bitch’s mind games got him feelin’ all types of ways. Ignoring the fact that he wanted to embrace, he tells himself he’s gotta get out of here before the twink catches feelings. And then, Mattie pointedy rests on Rob’s crotch once more. And despite cumming seconds ago, Rob’s eyes cross from how pleasurable it is, his cock still rock hard.

Jaw clenched to avoid losing control again, immediately. He pushes down pleasure and turns his attention to Mattie and his blood runs cold. No wonder he feels heavier, he is. Rob gasps as he sees the man smirking as he scratches at his no longer rail thin chest. Briefly biting his tongue, he winks before taunting Rob, “Something the matter Daddy?” The man sneers before leaning in close to rub his whole form against Rob’s bare torso.

Rob feels delirious as his body reflexively moves underneath the force of Mattie’s assault. Eyes focused on the twink’s face he sees the dyed hair revert to its natural color before restyling itself into something far less fem. He feels the scratch of stubble against his cheek as Mattie rubs his face against his, tongue tickling his beard as he can’t help but grind into the twink. 

Weariness still plagues him as Mattie continues to pressure him further, his voice clearly lower as he continues to taunt the man, “Oh what? Too manly to fuck someone who’s not hairless? Or is all that gerar you’re taking making it hard to get it up? Fat lotta good it’s doing haha!” Rob feels the man’s lower torso begin to prickle with hair, tangling with his own thick sweaty treasure trail. Rob grunts out a denial as he tries to fight back against his lust as his cock only grows needier, precum coursing down its length.

Something’s wrong. Every inch of his exposed skin feels more sensitive than it ever has before. He struggles to push Mattie off of himself. Struggling to think against pangs of pleasure, he throws his all into flipping over and straddling Mattie. He should be stronger than this. His arms burn with effort. Panting, he hears his gasping breaths and cries out as his dick is caught at an uncomfortable angle. 

Stumbling back, away from the man whose touch must be doing this, Rob feels his shorts begin to fall, the elastic waistband somehow sliding off his waist. Stumbling off the bed he turns to see his reflection and almost falls over in shock. He sees a man that is not himself. His hands fly to the chest that he has spent years defining, the same fucking pecs that got this bitch to swipe right on him to begin with, he feels them give under his fingers as they continue to atrophy.

Moving upward across the shrinking peaks of his powerful chest, ignoring his thinning shoulders, his hands instead clutch at his jaw. His fingers feel his beard give way to smooth skin as the beard he has used to project what a man he is since he has been first able to grow one begins to turn patchy and thin. Crying out to Mattie, his voice cracks even higher as he struggles to access the rage that has always been second nature, “whAT are you doing to me!? You- you? Fucking-” 

Tears welling up in his eyes, he doesn’t finish the sentence as Mattie rises from the bed, now standing well taller than he was when he answered the door. Rob clearly remembers being a full foot taller, and yet as he turns to see the lanky twink-no-more standing to his new height they make direct eye contact. Dripping with sweat and fear Rob backs away as his cock continues to throb with need that only grows as he sees what a man Mattie is becoming.

Rolling his eyes Mattie makes it clear the changes are not skin deep as his tone shifts deeper and darker, “Don’t know what you’re on about babe? Actin’ all emotional n’ shit.” Rob tries not to stare at the fingers scratching at pits now laden with a forest of hair. Mattie stretches as he begins to saunter over, a world away from the sashay he did on the way to straddle Rob earlier.

Doing a double bicep pose Mattie smirks as his itchy stubble fills into a full chin beard. Rob shivers and gasps as he backs away and stares at the twunk’s newly bulging biceps. At the same time he begins to feel his own arms atrophy, shrinking into two thin sticks that haven’t a chance in hell to push off the growing man now approaching him.

With each step closer, Matt continues to loom higher over him. The sneer on his face only grows cockier as he paws at his growing crotch. Robbie feels an emptiness within him as his still hard dick suddenly can’t keep his shorts up anymore, when they fall he is revealed to no longer be commando though, instead wearing a patterned jock that frames his perfect ass, the only part of his form that seems to have not lost mass.

“Matthew, please can you just give me a sec? I think something isth seriously wrong!” Hearing Robbie’s voice tinged with a new lisp, Matt groans as his little bitch refers to him as anything but Matt. Stuffing his hand into his tight shorts to readjust. Smirking as he feels his hand quickly coated before as his shorts begin to tear from his bulking thighs and bulging cock, Matt allows Robbie the few seconds demand of him. 

Even as he whinily begs for a break however, Robbie wonders why he even needs one. Mouth watering, almost drooling as he takes in the sight of the new Matt, his eyes keep flickering down to the softball sized bulge in his pants. Robbie wonders why he’d want anything but to feel that cock in his ass.

His waifish fingers feeling his thin waist and hairless chest, Robbie chews on his thicker lips as he rapidly begins to forget being anything but Matt’s cock-hungry slut. Leaning against the cold mirror behind himself, Robbie feels himself change into his final form, turning to present his ass; he sees his reflection as he becomes the exact type of twink he once hated. Barely enough muscle to ambulate, only the hint of a mustache on his face and a single hair on his chest. His pale, smooth face burns with blush as he sees Matt’s reflected sneer, hungry. Behind him, inching closer like a predator to prey, his top grows larger. Legs lengthening as feet push wider. His paltry facial hair hangs lower as it grows into a thick beard that even at his most masc Rob could never pull off. Pecs pushing out as they grow a garden of curls. The idea that his hair was ever some highly styled dyed coif is laughable as it pulls into a shorn caesar cut. 

Finally reaching the twink presenting himself in the bathroom, Matt leans over him and whispers into his ear in a voice so deep it sounds like a growl, “God you’re fucking desperate aren’t you?” Robbie only moans in response, so needy it's a wonder if he’s even able to think. Matt’s underwear tears off completely as his cock grows too large to ever be contained and the pair begin the first fuck in their new forms, of their new lives

Sweaty handprints are left in the steamed mirror as with each thrust the pair are more cemented into who they are, who they must always have been. Feeling Matt’s thick pubes against his bouncing ass, Robbie can’t imagine wanting anything else in the world as it almost seems to feel better with each bounce. 

Manhandling his twink as if he were a doll, there is a part of Matt that knows he did this somehow. Forced this hungry twink to know his place, to become his perfect little bitch. Feeling him fulfill his needs better than any of his toys ever could he figures he might as well keep this one around, seems good for this if nothing else. Taking time to admire his thick new arms and heavy pecs in between thrusts, Matt finally cums and becomes the dom top that Rob wished he was. 

The pair awaken some time later in the bed, something in the back of Matt’s head swears this is his apartment but looking around at the gay decor he can’t imagine that’s the case. Turning to look at the still sleeping Robbie with a beauty mask on his face he scratches his pube and laughs at his ignorance, duh- he lets his bitch decorate, anything to appease the princess. Less work for him that way.

Heading out to start his day, early as it always is, he throws on a hoodie and shorts that fail to hide his massive bulge and starts his jog before the sun can rise. Before he even makes it a block his phone rings with the telltale sound of a Grindr notification. Cock conditioned as well as pavlolv’s dogs, his cock begins to rise. 

Knowing his bitch won’t mind as long as he saves some for him after he gets his beauty sleep, Matt sends a quick selfie and amends his route to head over to the address sent. When he finally returns home, Robbie’s just about done with his morning beauty routine and demands all the deets. 

Before he even gets to the fun part of his retelling, both of the men are already raring to go for another round. And so they go on, dicks at a hair trigger no matter the time of day. Whatever turnabout that occured between them clearly heightened their libidos more than perhaps sustainable. Though neither seems to mind.

In his new form, with his new needs, Robbie finds more fulfillment than he ever did as the twink seeking top he once was. Hearing tell of his alpha’s exploits only make him needier for his cock. On the other hand, from the start Matt was always looking to put people in their place. Now that he stands tall and catches the eye of every bottom, top and vers the new brute is more than happy to share his new self. All in all, the two could ask for no better lives than what they have found after swapping everything that made them, them.

[jaesblogstuff]

Verbally Praise, Physically degrade.

here’s a draft while i sort out the rest. :)

⸻

One minute you’re with Soap, laughing, leaning in too close, your fingers brushing his arm like it meant nothing. But you knew better.

You knew the weight of your touch. Knew your laugh softened in that way meant only for Simon. Knew exactly what you were doing when you let someone else’s warmth slip into a space that belonged to him. And the next?

You were in some god-knows-what room, pulled through a doorway by a hand that didn’t yank, didn’t shake, just commanded. Simon didn’t say a word. Just locked the door behind you. And looked at you like you already knew what you did.

His hand wraps around your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. His thumb presses your bottom lip down, slow, dragging across your tongue. You barely have time to breathe before he tilts your chin higher, eyes narrowing.

“You want to give your voice to someone else?” His head tilts. “Then you don’t need it, do you?” He nudges you down with one hand, and you drop like instinct. Knees to concrete, palms flat.

His other hand rests at the crown of your head, fingers threading into your hair—not pulling, not yet. Just claiming. He guides you closer, the heat of him brushing your mouth. The head of his cock slides against your lips, smearing pre-come across them like a mark. Like a seal. You’re not embarrassed. You couldn’t be. Not with the way he looks at you. Like he fucking worships this.

“Open up.”

You do.

Tongue out. Eyes up.

And the sound he makes. It’s not quite a groan. More like a growl from deep in his chest, something primal and low. He feeds himself past your lips, slow and deliberate, his hand tightening just a fraction when your throat tenses around him.

“There you go,” Simon says, breath hitching. “Take it. All of it.”

You try. But he’s too much. Your throat flexes, your breath catches, and still he holds your head steady. Then his grip tightens, just enough to stop you pulling back. Not forcing. Just refusing to let go.

“You laugh like that again with anyone else,” he murmurs, low and cold, “I’ll fuck your voice right out of you.”

You choke, and he finally lets you draw in a breath through your nose, barely. Your lungs shudder, your spit thick and hot around him. He watched your eyes flutter.

“Don’t you dare fucking pass out,” he commanded. “You breathe through it. You take it. You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

You nod as best you can, choking slightly as he lets you back off, just a little, enough to inhale sharply through your nose, lungs burning. But you stay on him, tongue working, spit pooling fast and hot as he rocks into your mouth slow, grinding into your throat like it belongs to him.

“Look at you,” he breathes, thumb catching the tear at the corner of your eye. “So pretty. So obedient. Just f'me.”

He pulls back entirely, letting you gasp, but his hand never leaves your head.

“That’s it. Breathe. Come on, baby. There you go.”

You’re shaking. But not from fear. From need. From the way he praises you like you’re worth something, even with spit dripping down your chin, even as you struggle to take him the way he likes.

He leans down, nose brushing yours, lips just barely grazing your mouth.

“You’re doing so fucking well,” Simon whispers, tone softer now. “And I’m not done. Not ‘til your voice is gone. Change of heart.”

And you nod. Because you’d suffocate for him if he asked. But he won’t. He wants you conscious. Wanting. Needing. Breathing—just barely.

But always for him.