#she's learning more modern words...

[divinityunleashed]

"..Skibidi~"

"..I have the power of a mighty rizzard..!~"

[stygiansauce]

I graduate college so I don't have to write essays or do research anymore.

And then I instantly get sucked into research so I can write a historical au.

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

everybody please consider the fact that solaris is probably a native swiss-french speaker with me okay??

[cosmik-homo]

I know Doctor who and accents and sociolinguistic identities and stuff are very delicate things and . etc etc Shot Dog disclaimer. But I do think a Kiwi accent master could change the game

[celestial-kestrel]

It's that time of year again where Mari Lwyd starts to be talked about and shared around and an INCREDIBLY misleading post gets shared a lot. As someone who grew up with Mari Lwyd I wanted to clear some things up.

Also hello, if you are unaware who Mari Lwyd is. This is about the Welsh tradition of the horse skull who visits houses during the Christmas to New Years period in Wales asking for alcohol.

First off and probably the most important one:

Mari Lwyd is not a cryptid!

I can not emphasise this enough. She. Is. Not. A. Cryptid. There is no story or mystery about a ghost or zombie horse roaming the Welsh valleys. She's not even supposed to be a ghost or a zombie. It's just a horse skull on a stick with a guy under a sheet. She's a hobbyhorse and a folk character used to tell Welsh stories and keep songs alive. When people spread the misinformation that she's a cryptid, it's the equivalent of saying Kermit the Frog is a cryptid.

She is actually only one character in a wider cast of characters who go door to door or, in more modern times, pub to pub. The cast of characters can change town to town and village to village but there are some common ones I see time and time again. The Leader, the Merryman, The Jester and The Lady are just some I see regularly. Punch and Judy used to be more popular a few years ago but I haven't seen them in a while as their tradition has mostly fallen out of popularity. In most cases, almost the whole cast will be played by men. Even the characters are considered and referred to as female. Though this again depends and varies by which group is partaking in the Mari Lwyd tradition.

This point also goes onto my second point,

Mari Lwyd does not rap.

I think this comes from a very common misunderstanding of what rap is vs spoken word. Rap is a very specific style of music originating from the African American communities of the USA and has it's own structure and motifs unique to it. It's a lot more complex than people give it credit for as a style of music and just flippantly assign anything similar to it as being rap. If someone is talking fast or reciting poetry, it is not rap. Or anything that is an exchange of words between two people is not a rap battle. Mari Lwyd does not do rap, actually something that gets left out of these posts is the fact Mari Lwyd does not even speak. It's actually the Leader, who does all the speaking and song based banter between the house/pub owner for entry. Mari Lwyd just clicks her mouth, bites people and bobs her head around.

I think Mari Lwyd is a really beautiful and unique part of Welsh culture. She's not actually as wildly celebrated as a lot of the posts make her out to be. Actually, I think most Welsh people themselves learn about Mari Lwyd through the internet as well. Her popularity is increasing thanks to the drive of local groups wanting to keep the traditions alive and a renewed desire to document Welsh traditions before they're gone. Which is why it's such a shame that she's turned into something she's not to earn horror points on the internet. I think this is why it bothers me so much to see the misunderstandings of the culture and the folk tradition. Mari Lwyd's origin is very hot debated as well as how long it's been going on for. But I think it's thanks to a lot of traditions like this that the Welsh language and our stories weren't lost forever. Welsh culture is recovering as is the language. But it's still in a very fragile place. I think it's why it's important to document and correct information when it's spread.

Anyway, if you want to see the tradition in action, here's a lovely video from the Cwmafan RFC going to one of the pubs for charity. It includes the song exchange with the pub owner for entry and the whole pub singing and joining in once Mari Lwyd and the rest are inside.

As well with another video from St Fagan's showcasing the more traditional and door to door form with the larger cast.

[noredemptionhere]

𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂 𖤝 𝚆𝙸𝙵𝙴!𝚂𝙴𝚅𝙸𝙺𝙰 𝚇 𝙵𝙴𝙼!𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁

tags: modern setting, fluff, too much fluff.

𖤝| sevika won’t let you leave angry. not the room, not the house, not even her side. if you try, she just blocks the door with her body, calm, unmoving. “we’re not done,” she says, but there’s no threat in it. just finality. she doesn’t shout. she doesn’t argue. she waits you out like a storm, and you always break first.

𖤝| the first time you went full cuteness aggression and pinned her down kissing her face like an attack, she let you. quietly. didn’t say a word. but when you stopped she flipped you. suddenly she’s the one kissing you over and over like she snapped. teeth grazing your lip. eyes half lidded. voice low “no tapping out now.”

𖤝| sevika has exactly one hoodie she lets you steal. you wore it once and she never took it back because she saw how soft you looked in it and it made her weak. now, when you’re in it, she stares a little too long. if you try to give it back, she just grunts and walks away. you’re never giving it back.

𖤝| you keep climbing her in quiet moments. sitting on her lap while she’s reading. hugging her from behind when she’s washing something. she acts unbothered, but at a certain point, she just slams the book down, hauls you over her shoulder, and says “you want attention? you got it.” and disappears into the bedroom with you over her shoulder.

𖤝| she’s careful with her strength around you. too careful. like she’s scared of cracking you open. she opens jars before you even reach for them. carries things before you even ask. when you say you can do it yourself, she nods.. but doesn’t move. just stands there, watching. waiting. and eventually, you let her.

𖤝| you kiss her bicep every time she flexes. doesn’t matter if it’s on purpose or not. she lifts a box? kiss. stretches her arms? kiss. scratches her head? “wow, so pretty.” another kiss. she pretends to act casual about it. secretly flexes more.

𖤝| sevika never tells you when she’s angry at someone else. but you notice the way she tightens her grip when she brushes your hair that night. how the strokes lose rhythm. how her breathing changes. she’s careful not to take it out on you, but it leaks through anyway. and you learn to ask less questions on those nights. to be still. to give her space.

𖤝| she has the nerve to look this good when she sleeps. shirt riding up, one arm behind her head, mouth slightly open. so of course, you crawl on top of her at 3am, kiss her ten times in a row, then whisper “you’re killing me.” she stirs. half opens one eye. “good.”

𖤝| sevika doesn’t like when you dream of other people. not lovers—anyone. when you wake up and tell her you saw your mother, your old friend, a teacher from childhood.. her gaze sharpens. she asks what they said. how they made you feel. and the next night, she holds you tighter. harder. like she’s trying to squeeze the memory out of you before it sticks.

𖤝| sevika never tells you she’s angry. she just stops touching you. not cruelly, not obviously—she’s still there, still present, still herself—but her hands don’t find you in passing. she doesn’t tuck your hair behind your ear, doesn’t brush crumbs off your chin. you feel it immediately. the absence. and it hurts more than yelling ever could.

𖤝| sevika keeps your baby picture in her wallet. you didn’t give it to her. she found it somewhere.. old, worn, tucked into a book you forgot. she didn’t ask. just slipped it into the fold behind her mints. now it’s always with her. when you noticed it, it made your heart flutter.

𖤝| she now accepts that she is your personal body pillow. you spoon her. you lie across her. you lie on top of her. she’ll just be flipping through the pages of her book while you’re starfished across her torso. sometimes she lifts your arm so she can read under it.

𖤝| you’re constantly climbing on her lap, even mid-conversation. she’ll be talking to you about something or someone and you just quietly sit in her lap like a cat. she doesn’t stop talking. doesn’t react. just rests a hand on your thigh like this is perfectly normal.

𖤝| she tries to act unaffected when you smother her with kisses. you kiss her cheek fourteen times in a row and she just blinks like nothing’s happening. but the second you stop? “that’s it?” she doesn’t even look at you when she says it. you kiss her fourteen more times.

𖤝| one day, you try to be normal. no biting. no climbing. just sitting beside her, hands folded, behaving. after ten minutes she grabs your wrist, pulls you into her lap, almost mad. “what’s wrong with you.” you say “i’m giving you a break.” she deadass looks offended. “i don’t want a fucking break.”

𖤝| sevika pretends she’s bothered when you hang off her like a backpack but her hands always find your thighs to hold you in place. you’re clinging to her back like “hi :)” while she’s trying to cook, and she just sighs and shakes her head, but always kisses you at the end of it.

𖤝| she can tell when you’re needy just by the way your toes curl while you stand in the kitchen, your long nightgown brushing the floor, sleeves too big, your fingers twisting in the fabric. you don’t say anything. you never do. you just look at her with those glossy eyes, lips parted, thighs pressed tight. and she’s on you in seconds. lifts you onto the counter and says, “c’mere, crybaby.“

𖤝| you cling when you’re upset, too, and she knows exactly what to do. no questions. just picks you up, sets you on the couch, pulls you into her chest. one hand rubbing your back, the other cradling your head. “i’ve got you,” she says, and you believe her. because when she says that, the whole world goes quiet, and your heart goes lighter for a moment.

𖤝| you say “babe” fifty times an hour and she answers every single time. sometimes with a grunt, sometimes with a flat “what now,” sometimes with a gentle “yes, sweetheart?” and sometimes, she just pulls you into her lap without answering at all because she knows you don’t really need anything. you just wanted her attention.

𖤝| she always tries to carry all the groceries herself. no matter how many. no matter how heavy. you offer to help, and she goes, “i got it.” ten seconds later she’s grunting under seventeen bags like a mule, refusing to make two trips. “don’t look at me,” she huffs.

𖤝| she takes the “eat the last bite of my food” thing as a personal challenge. you’ll leave one bite of cake on your plate, go to the bathroom, and come back to find her chewing suspiciously. “where’s the cake?” you ask. she shrugs. “gravity.”

𖤝| you’ve convinced her to watch trashy reality shows. she says she hates them. she complains the whole time. but if you talk over the drama for even a second, she pauses it like a schoolteacher and goes, “you’re gonna miss the good part.”

𖤝| one time, sevika came home after a long, brutal day.. she comes home late. later than usual. her back hurts, her shoulder’s stiff, and the joints in her prosthetic are clicking in that way that makes her feel ancient. her keys jangle, and she’s already halfway through a groan. except you happened-

standing dead center in the living room.

in your nightgown.

past your ankles.

sleeves draped over your hands like some sad little heirloom doll.

eyes puffy. hair wild. lips trembling.

you look like a haunted Victorian ghost who just crawled out of the floorboards.

sevika freezes.

and you say it.

you say it like you’ve been waiting centuries:

“are you cheating on me?”

she blinks. keys still dangling from her fingers.

“…the fuck?”

you take a step closer. the nightgown rustles. it sounds like a threat.

“you didn’t answer my texts,” you say, almost breathless. “or my other texts. and then you liked that girl’s picture.”

sevika just squints at you. “what girl?”

you shrug. desperate and grieved. “she had a neck.”

there’s a pause. a long one.

“…everyone has a neck.” her voice is so flat.. like she just woke up or something.

you blink. like that genuinely never occurred to you.

then your lip wobbles again like you might cry or perform a dark spell.

sevika sighs. long. slow. the tired kind that comes from a full day of chaos only to come home to.. more chaos. nightgown-wearing chaos. she lets the keys hit the floor with a dull clink and walks toward you.

“baby,” she mutters, eyes soft now. “you think i’m cheating on the girl who looks like a kicked bunny and accuses strangers of having necks?”

you blink again. then whisper, defiant

“…maybe.”

there’s a twitch at her lip. like she’s trying not to smile. like she wants to laugh and cry and throw you over her shoulder all at once.

“you want me to prove it?”

you nod. sniffly. bravely.

she just scoops you up.

no warning. no argument.

one arm under your knees, the other around your back. lifts you like it’s easy. like you’re made of clouds and dramatics.

you squeak—actually squeak—like a startled kitten.

“what are you doing?!”

“proving it.” she says it like it’s obvious. like it’s the only rational response to your witch trial.

you clutch at her jacket, all nightgown and flailing sleeves and messy hair. she carries you to the couch and sits with you in her lap like she’s bracing for war and your love is the weighted blanket holding her together.

her hand is splayed across your back, fingers warm through the fabric. the other supports your thighs. her face presses against your temple.

“mmhmm,” she mutters, low and sarcastic. “cheating on you. that’s why i’m holding my delusional little marshmallow like this.”

you pout. whine. nuzzle into her collar. “i’m not delusional.”

“baby,” she sighs, brushing your hair back and kissing your cheek. “you accused a stranger of having a neck.”

you glare up at her. absolutely betrayed. “and you liked it.”

sevika just looks at you. quiet. soft. half exhausted and half in love with whatever ridiculous gremlin fate bound her to. Her mouth twitches again. she leans down.

one kiss to your forehead. another to your nose.

then a longer, lingering kiss to your lips. she pulls back just a little. “next time you get dramatic,” she whispers, voice husky, “at least wait until I’m not about to drop dead.”

[loveletterlore]

bucky needs a break ♡ b.b. x reader

pairing: thunderbolts!bucky barnes x thunderbolts!fem!reader THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS

summary: being a part of the team has had a strange effect on your lives, for you it has allowed you more freedom while for bucky it had given him more work - and the man needs a break.

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI smut, not an established relationship, use of pet names [doll, darling, babygirl, baby], kissing, touching, fingering, oral [f receiving], penetration [p in v], unprotected sex, cream pie, straight up porn, reader is described to have a vagina, aftercare, subspace if you squint

word count: 5.1k

authors note: i can't believe i just wrote 5k words of smut, strangely proud of myself, hope you enjoy! <3

Family life with the New Avengers wasn’t exactly what you had signed up for when Bucky had called you, asking for your help with investigating Valentina’s dark web goings-on. It was supposed to be a simple recon mission, finding Yelena, Walker and Ava and getting them to testify before the court. If only it had been so simple.

Nowadays, you found yourself amongst a team of misfits, the equivalent of a collage on a schoolgirl’s moodboard. Yelena and Bucky took most of the public facing work, being the two members with the least amount of public disturbances - which in itself is a baffling statement - while Ava and John tended to work background. Alexei, well, Alexei did what Alexei wanted and there wasn’t much any of you could do about that. 

Bob was still largely unaware of what had happened to form the team, appointing himself the New Avengers #1 Cheerleader and Dishwasher. It had taken a couple of months to get over everything the Void had unearthed, a couple of months to stop seeing his eyes glow every time you looked at Bob. 

Since then, daily life had consisted of more media and publicity than missions and saving people, which had taken a while to get used to. Bucky often found himself pacing the tower, already having experienced the world of politics through his time in congress and not wanting to get into it all over again. Yelena, on the other hand, finally felt like she was doing some good, helping people in the way that she had needed in the past.

For you, it was bittersweet. A part of you missed going on missions with the team, missed the moments in between the fighting where someone would tell a joke and nothing else would matter. In comparison, it was lovely not being woken up at 3am by some emergency that needed immediate attention. Some of the day-to-day normalities of modern life had seeped into your routine, making you feel more like a domestic goddess than a kick-ass assassin.

The abundance of free time had allowed you and the team to get to know each other better, beyond the basic questions of “who designed your suit?” and “how much ammo do you carry?”. Genuine friendships had formed as you learned of everyone’s pasts, likes and annoying habits. At least, these friendships had formed with most of the team.

Bucky hadn’t been too keen to join in with the morale building, usually holding back with tablet in hand, focused on the comms that never seemed to stop. 

Sitting in the main room of the tower, the team were dotted across the sofas. Bob sat in a beanbag in the corner, listening in to the ongoing conversation while keeping his eyes on the windows. 

You glanced around, eyes searching for Bucky, but coming up empty. It wasn’t uncommon for him to arrive later or leave earlier, he was never there for a whole conversation.

“But Yelena,” Alexei bellowed, standing with his arms open. “What is so wrong with wanting my name to live on in the world?”

“I don’t think starting a bear fighting show is really the way to go about it,” Yelena rolled her eyes, leaning back in her seat. 

Alexei spun, eyes brushing over the rest of the team, “Bears are strong! Bears are fighters! I know in my soul, I am a bear.”

You just blinked at Alexei, questioning so many of the things he said. 

“I think you’re onto something,” John stated, raising an eyebrow.

“Shut up, Walker,” Ava replied, a bored expression on her face.

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of the doors opening, revealing Bucky in his tactical gear. Your heart jumped at the sight and you shifted in your seat, turning towards him. 

“Ah, Bucky!” Alexei started towards him before Yelena stood, marching towards Bucky.

“Bucky, have you seen this?” she pulled her phone from her pocket, turning him away from the group.

Your heart sank, a part of you hoping that he would have come to join the group. Bucky’s eyes caught yours for a second and you recognised the feelings instantly, the man was exhausted. It all added up - longer hours, being one of the public facing members of the team, constantly on the go - Bucky needed a break.

You began to wrack your brain for ideas on how to help him, knowing all too well the feeling that he was experiencing. The group continued chatting, Alexei louder than the rest, and while you were sure they were distracting each other, you stood from your spot on the sofa and headed towards Bucky and Yelena.

“Hey,” you spoke softly as the two turned to look at you, expressions serious and eyebrows furrowed. “Sorry, I just need Bucky for a moment before I head out.”

Bucky looked at Yelena before looking back to you, Yelena giving a quick nod before going back to the group.

“What’s up?” Bucky asked, hands settling on his hips as he turned his attention to you. 

“Can you help me with something in the training room?” you asked, eliciting a curious expression on his face.

Sighing, he nodded and held out his arm for you to lead the way. Instead of heading to the training room, you took the turn that led you towards the dorms, causing a confused look on Bucky’s face.

“Okay, I lied,” you whispered, leaning in slightly. 

Bucky’s confused expression deepened as he waited for you to continue. You reached the corridor with the doors to everyone’s rooms and stopped in front of yours, Bucky’s just a few steps further down the corridor.

“You’ve been doing so much lately, it kinda seemed like you needed a moment,” you continued, hoping you were on the right track. “I don’t know if saving you from Yelena was the right call or not, but it gives you an out to go and hide in a dark room somewhere.”

After a moment, the corners of Bucky’s mouth twisted upwards. He raised an arm, placing his hand on the wall, leaning his weight against it. He let out a breathy chuckle, running his other hand over his face.

“Was it that obvious?” his voice seemed lighter than usual.

“A lil’ bit,” you chuckled, a grin on your face as you watched his shoulders starting to relax.

“Damn, didn’t realise you could read me so well,” his hand dropped and his eyes focused on your face, studying the expression there.

You felt your cheeks flush under his gaze, hands clasping together in front of you as you leaned back against your door, “I’m just glad I got it right.”

A smirk grew on Bucky’s face as he watched your cheeks tint with a blush, his eyes softening at the sight, “Well, I believe I owe you a ‘thank you’.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you replied with a sweet smile. “Just go take a break, Bucky. You deserve it.”

His heart leapt at your words, he was always a sucker for someone showing him any form of appreciation.

“I don’t really know how,” he admitted, a bashful smile on his face. “Never had too much of a break before.”

Your eyebrows raised as he spoke, “Surely you’ve got some guilty pleasure that you never have time for?”

“Nope, not that springs to mind,” he shook his head, hands returning to their rightful spot on his hips. A cheeky grin grew on his face as he chose his next words carefully, “Why, what’s yours?”

You attempted to stifle the blush that threatened to grow even further on your cheeks, “Um, I don’t know, reality TV? I never get time to catch up with the latest seasons.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have time now, would you?” he grinned, eyes meeting yours again. “I think it’s only fair that since you saved me from work today, I return the favour.”

Your lips parted with surprise, mouth forming an ‘O’ before you realised and clamped it closed again, forming a soft smile, “As it just so happens, I do. I have everything logged in on my TV, I even have a secret snack supply.”

Bucky’s eyebrows raised, “Secret?”

“I wasn’t about to risk all of my snacks being raided by Alexei,” you giggled, a smirk on your face. “Or Walker for that matter.”

Bucky nodded as he stood straight, “Seems like we have everything we need.”

You reached your arm out, still holding Bucky’s gaze as you opened the door behind you, “Come on in.”

Moments later, you found yourself sitting next to Bucky on your sofa, flicking through streaming services to pick the perfect show to watch. While reality TV was a secret love of yours, Bucky had yet to experience the highs and lows of middle aged women fighting each other on national television, so you were trying to pick the perfect show to put on. 

“Okay,” you placed the remote down as an older episode loaded. “There are going to be lots of women shouting at each other, prepare yourself.”

An amused expression grew on Bucky’s face, more at your excitement for the show than the premise, “I don’t know how to prepare for that.”

“You’ll be fine,” you chuckled, settling into the couch and placing a variety of snacks on the table in front of you. “Just get ready to enjoy it.”

The show began to play and your brain finally started to quieten, your body relaxing into the comfort of the sofa beneath you. Throwing a quick glance at Bucky, you noticed how he had stripped off the majority of his tactical gear, left in a tank top and his combat trousers, boots left by the door. Your attention was pulled back to the TV by a shout and a dramatic sound effect, but what followed was even better.

Bucky laughed. Well, it was most of a laugh. Perhaps a sharp exhale from his nose would be a more fitting description, but in your mind it was a full-on belly laugh. Your heart fluttered at the sound and it took all of your effort not to turn and grab his face between your hands, forcing him to do it over and over again. 

Forcing a breath in an attempt to calm your racing heart rate, you leaned further back into the seat, shifting slightly. Bucky reacted, adjusting his position as well, his thigh brushing against yours for a brief moment. You stilled, eyes fixed on the TV as you tried to ignore the rush that went through you at the contact.

Bucky noticed your reaction, of course he did. He also noticed the way that your heart rate had picked up and you had been nibbling on your lower lip for the past few moments. Cautiously, he shifted his seating, pressing his thigh against yours more firmly this time, paying attention to how your body reacted. 

You gulped, eyelids fluttering for a second as a fresh wave of weakness spread through your body, warm and gentle. The communication was completely silent, just a hint of reciprocation as your thigh pressed back against Bucky’s. 

A smirk grew on his face as he felt your body pressing back against his, his hand snaking across to rest just above your knee. His fingers began to draw slow, deliberate circles on the inner side of your thigh, his heightened senses well aware of how your breath hitched as he began. 

If anyone walked in at this point and asked what you were watching, they would have received a garbled mess of sounds in response. Everything in you was focused on Bucky’s hands and how they were resting against your bare skin. Your lower lip was tucked between your teeth, absentmindedly running your tongue back and forth behind your teeth as you attempted to hide any reaction.

Bucky leaned in closer, his shoulder bumping against yours as his hand slid further up your thigh, delicately brushing the skin with his own flesh hand. He let out a quiet groan as electricity buzzed where your bodies met, jaw clenching as he tried to keep his movements controlled and gentle. 

The sound broke any restraint you had left and you turned your head to face him, taking in the blissful expression on his face. The line of his jaw was hard as his teeth clenched together, eyes half closed as his hand caressed the bare skin of your inner thigh.

“Bucky,” you whispered, something between a moan and a whisper. 

His eyes flashed open, immediately finding your gaze with a flash of desire and uncertainty. He pulled his hand from your leg, clearly thinking your voice was some form of denial. Rather than responding with words, you reached out to grasp his hand tightly, bringing it back to your thigh, higher than it had been before. His eyes darkened with desire, jaw still tight as he held himself back from doing anything too intense too quickly.

“Doll,” his voice was gruff with want, husky and hoarse. “We don-”

“I want to,” you whispered, cutting him off before he could continue his sentence. 

He ran his tongue along his lower lip, hand squeezing the pudge of your upper thigh, thumb reaching the soft skin of your hip as he stroked it gently. A whimper escaped your lips, the sight of his tongue immediately sending warmth between your thighs. You pressed them together and Bucky growled at the feeling.

“If we’re going to do this,” he spoke, voice dark and dripping with desire. “We’re going to do it right.”

Excitement rushed through your veins like an icy wave, eyes fluttering closed for a second as your head fell back. Bucky watched this happen, seizing the opportunity and pouncing.

His lips attached to your neck, kissing and licking at the sensitive pulse point as his hand raised to your hip, clutching at you as if you could disappear at any moment. The rough texture of his beard prickled against the delicate skin of your neck, the feeling stimulating every nerve ending in your body as you let out a delicate mewl. 

You lifted a hand to tangle in his hair, leaning your head back to allow him access as he continued to ravish your neck with attention. 

“Buck,” you whimpered, tugging at the ends of his hair. “I can’t-”

“Can’t what?” Bucky teased, nipping at the spot under your ear that made your body melt into his touch.

“Can’t be a one-time thing,” you moaned, a part of you afraid that this would scare him off. The growl that escaped his lips sent arousal directly to the spot between your thighs.

“Who said it was a one-time thing?” he replied, hand lifting to pull the straps of your tank top and bra off your shoulder as his lips trailed down your collarbone. “I certainly didn’t say that.”

You let out a sigh, pulling at his hair to bring his face to yours, “I’m serious, Bucky.”

“So am I,” his eyes searched yours, desperate to show you that he was telling the truth. 

You held his gaze for a moment, eyes darting between his eyes and lips before letting out a breathy chuckle, “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“I hope you’re gonna hold me to many things,” he teased, nose brushing against yours. 

You rolled your eyes playfully before pressing your lips to his, a moan escaping your throat as you felt his grip on your hip tighten. Lifting your leg, you wrapped it around his waist and pulled him down towards you. His hips slotted between yours as he balanced above you, your back pressed to the seats of the couch. You kept a leg tight around him, holding him in place as your hands dipped under the hem of his shirt.

He whimpered at the feeling of your hands dancing across his skin, your fingertips sending tingles on his skin. His teeth nibbled at your lower lip, tongue swiping against it as a plea for access. You relented, tongues dancing as the kiss deepened. You could feel your arousal pooling between your thighs, hips pressed firmly against Bucky’s as he leaned his weight on top of you.

Bucky’s metal arm rested above your head while his flesh hand pulled the other strap of your shirt down, exposing your shoulders and collarbones to him. Reluctantly, he pulled his lips from yours, trailing them down your neck and along your collarbone. The way he kissed you was wanting but careful, as though he didn’t want to risk shattering you under his grasp. He placed a kiss to the top of your sternum, eyes glancing up to meet yours.

The look on your face was pure bliss and Bucky was completely addicted to the sight. The thought flashed through his mind that the main goal of the rest of his life was to see it as many times as he could before he died. His hands slipped under the hem of your shirt, pulling it up gently before he moved his face away, placing an arm behind your back to lift you in order to remove the shirt completely. 

“Yours too, Buck,” you breathed, face flushed as you attempted to recapture your breathing. 

He flashed a grin at you before pulling his tank top over his head, revealing his muscular chest to you. Your hands immediately lifted, fingertips tracing the scars and marks that dotted his skin, the touches gentle and caring. His smile turned soft at your actions, the realisation that this was something real for you, for both of you. His eyes closed as he enjoyed existing in your touch, letting you explore the parts of his body that had been hidden for so long. 

Your hands drifted down, fingers hooking in the belt loops of his tactical pants before pulling his body back towards yours, lips crashing into his as your bodies collided. Your hips rolled upwards in search of friction, in search of him. He growled against your lips, hips pressing down into yours as his hand slipped beneath your back, arching your back to press your abdomen against his.

“Look at you baby,” he moaned against your lips. “Already so needy.”

“Someone got me all worked up,” you mumbled, hips rolling against his again as you bit your lower lip. 

Bucky chuckled in response, the sound airy and breathless as he nuzzled his nose into your cheek, “Hmm, maybe we should do something about that.”

“Please,” you were well aware of how desperate you sounded, the word like a prayer on your lips. 

Bucky smiled against your cheek as his hand slid beneath the waistband of your shorts, fingers brushing the dainty material of your panties. His movements were delicate, calculated, careful. The dance of his fingertips along your abdomen, inching closer to where you wanted him most, sent shivers through your body as you writhed beneath him. 

The moment his fingers spread your folds you gasped, suddenly aware of just how much you wanted this, just how wet you had become. Bucky bit his lip as his finger slid over your clit and towards your hole, the sensation of your slick sending blood straight to his cock. 

“Shit, doll,” he whimpered, which sent another wave of arousal through your body. “Didn’t realise you needed me this bad.”

Any response died on your tongue as his fingers began to draw sloppy circles over your clit, hips jittering upwards as you searched for more friction. Bucky couldn’t help himself, his clothed crotch rubbing against your inner thigh as you moaned beneath him, lips parted perfectly. 

“Need you,” you breathed, forcing your eyes open to watch as Bucky’s blissed out eyes found yours. 

“Use your words, baby,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, a wild juxtaposition to the insatiable movements his fingers were currently working on your clit.

“Need your fingers,” you groaned, lips pressed against his jawline. “Please.”

“Good girl,” Bucky praised, leaving a trail of kisses along your cheekbone before yanking your shorts down your legs.

You gasped at the sudden cold air on your folds, instinctively squeezing your thighs together. Bucky placed a hand on each knee, forcing your legs apart with a gentle tut.

“Princess, if you do that again we’re going to have an issue,” his eyes were serious before turning soft as you let your legs drop wider. “That’s better.”

You flushed at the praise, hips grinding against nothing as you gazed up at Bucky’s face. Shuffling down your body, Bucky lay flat until his eyeline was directly facing your panties. He took in a deep breath, pressing his nose to the dainty fabric before licking a stripe directly over your desperate hole. Your back arched at the feeling, causing Bucky to reach up with his metal arm, pressing your back down against the bed. 

Nuzzling his nose against you, he nudged your panties out of the way before pouncing, pressing a chaste kiss to your clit. A moan echoed in your chest, guttural and raw, as Bucky began to lick at your delicate folds, slurping like a man starved. The sounds coming from the pair of you were borderline pornographic, all moans and gasps and squelches. 

“Fuck, can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me,” Bucky muttered into your clit, unable to tear his lips from your taste.

Bucky teased your hole with two fingers, sliding them in as your walls fluttered around him. 

“Shit Bucky,” you exhaled, hips grinding against his face. 

“Tell me doll,” he groaned against you, his hips thrusting wildly at the sound of your voice. “Tell me how good I’m makin’ you feel.”

“So good, Bucky,” you rasped, eyebrows furrowed as your eyes squeezed shut. “Feels so fuckin’ good.”

Bucky hummed in response, tongue lapping at your clit as his fingers curled inside of you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, jaw going slack as you felt the familiar burning in the pit of your stomach. Unconsciously, you clenched around Bucky as he nibbled at your clit, following it up with a sloppy kiss. 

“Can feel you’re close, princess,” Bucky teased, unrelenting with that tongue of his. “Show me, wanna see you fall apart on my mouth.”

The words were enough to send you over the edge, hips shaking as your thighs tightened around his head. Your walls fluttered around Bucky’s fingers as your orgasm washed over you. Your breath hitched in your chest as your entire body tensed, brain unable to comprehend the pleasure that overtook your senses. 

Bucky began to press kisses to your thighs and hips as he let you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. Once your body began to still he lifted his fingers to his mouth, tongue poking out to lick your slick off of his digits with a groan. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he leaned down, his dog tags resting on your bare chest.

Your hands lifted to feel his chest, his heart racing beneath his warm skin, prickled with sweat. A finger wrapped around the chain of his tags, pulling him down to meet your lips as you pressed your faces together. Your other hand slid down his chest, teasing at the waistband of his tactical pants. It didn’t take long for Bucky to have them off, throwing them across the room before immediately returning to your lips.

You pressed your palm to his erection over his boxers, whimpering into the kiss as you felt the size of him. Pulling away from his lips, you glanced down to see him held in your hand, the girth sending a shockwave through your body. A wet patch had begun to form on his boxers as precum leaked from his tip, no doubt related to the way his hips had been rutting against the arm of the couch as he ate you out. 

He hissed at your touch, evidently sensitive from the night's events. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck as you began to stroke him gently, pressing kisses to his hair. He thrust his hips into your touch, needing you just as bad as you had been needing him.

“Doll, as much as I love you touching me,” he moaned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your jaw. “I fuckin’ need to be inside you.”

You didn’t take any further convincing, pushing down his boxers to free his rock hard cock. He leaned back for a moment, studying the view before him as he stroked himself a couple of times. He lined himself up with you, one hand gripping your hip tight as the other came up to stroke your cheek as he eased himself into you.

Your eyes immediately fluttered closed, jaw dropping at the sheer size of him. Garbled sounds fell from your lips, it sounded like you were casting a spell in some long-forgotten language. Bucky stifled a deep growl as he felt your walls tightening around him.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he mewled, pressing a desperate kiss to your lips. 

Any type of control Bucky had had before, the precision he had displayed while working on your pleasure, disappeared the second he felt your pussy clenching around his cock. He continued to enter you until he was fully sheathed, jaw clenched as he held himself back from immediately slamming his hips into yours. 

He watched your face carefully for any hint of pain as he began to withdraw, gently sliding into your tight hole again. Your face contorted with pleasure, unable to force any words from your mouth as you succumbed to the pleasure radiating through your body. Bucky took that as a sign to continue, hips rolling back and forward as his cock pounded deeper and deeper into you. 

Your fingers grasped at Bucky’s shoulders, searching for stability as your bodies moved together. Words defeated you, only lewd sounds falling from your lips as your forms united. The sound of wet slaps echoed around the room, punctuated by the deep groans elicited from Bucky’s chest as he felt the warmth of your body around him.

““Fuck,” Bucky hissed through his teeth, punctuated by the harsh slamming of his hips into yours. 

Your entire body vibrated with desire as you heard just how bad Bucky needed you, just how bad he needed to fuck you. You reached up to place a hand on his chest, the other on his shoulder as you pushed against him, flipping him onto his back. You saw a flash of surprise on his face as you threw a leg over him, the look immediately replaced with one of desire and want. 

Leaning down to kiss him, you pressed your lips against his before trailing kisses down his throat, tongue poking out to lick over his Adam’s apple. He growled at the feeling, hands clutching and squeezing at your hips. You felt his hips buck upwards against you, the head of his cock brushing against your clit as you let out a needy whine.

The sound broke something in Bucky and he grabbed your hips, pulling you down on his cock. He slid inside of you easily, even deeper than before as your eyes rolled back in ecstasy. You leaned back as you rolled your hips against his, grinding your pussy against him and hands resting on his muscular thighs.

Bucky thrust his body upwards, his balls slapping against you as the head of his cock hit the perfect spot inside of you, turning your body to jelly.

“Fuck-,” you moaned, the tip of your tongue poking out over your bottom lip as you focused all of your energy on staying upright. 

Bucky sensed your weakness, bending his knees to plant his feet in the bed as he fucked up into you relentlessly. 

“Shit, can feel you getting close babygirl,” he grunted, movements becoming sloppy as he felt his own high building in his abdomen. 

You whined in response, hand drifting down to stroke desperate circles around your clit, “So close, so fucking close.”

“Where’d you want me to finish, doll?” Bucky said, movements beginning to stutter.

“Inside, please,” you moaned, eyes opening to look down at him. “Wanna feel you.”

The words sent Bucky over the edge as he leaned up, wrapping his arms tightly around your abdomen as he slammed his hips into yours over and over. Your orgasm washed over you, body tensing as you crumbled into his embrace. Bucky’s arms were the only thing keeping you from falling on your face as he bit down on your collarbone, stifling a scream as he shot hot ropes of cum deep inside of you.

His hips didn’t stop, fucking his seed deeper and deeper inside of you as you garbled nonsense into his scalp. After a few moments, his movements became languid before stopping entirely, his arms still embracing you tightly as your chests heaved with breaths. His lips placed gentle, sloppy kisses along your shoulder as Bucky turned your bodies to lay you on the bed. You whined as his softening cock slipped out of you.

“I know baby, I know,” he whispered, continuing to place kisses along your jaw as he laid you down. 

Your eyes were still closed, lungs struggling to recover after the rigorous events that had just occurred. Letting out a gentle moan, you reached your arms out for him.

“One second doll, gotta get you cleaned up,” he spoke gently as he stood, moving to the bathroom to grab a washcloth and returning to the bed. 

Carefully, tenderly, he wiped at your sensitive folds, eradicating any proof of your joint activities. He threw the washcloth to the end of the bed, then brought the blanket up to cover your bodies as he wrapped an arm over your midsection.

“You back with me?” he asked, stroking gentle circles against your delicate skin.

“Yeah,” you hummed in response. “Holy shit.”

Bucky chuckled, the sound chesty and real.

“I think you should take a break more often,” you pressed your lips to his chest as you snuggled in closer. His arm wrapped tighter around you as you did, kissing your hair and inhaling your scent. 

“If it involved this every time,” he grinned. “I don’t think I’d ever do any damn work.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” you pulled away to look up at him. “Anytime you need a break, you come find me. I’ll be your perfect excuse.”

Bucky smiled down at you, realising just how much you truly cared for him. He hadn’t thought anyone had noticed how tired he was or how desperate he was for a break, but you had. 

“You got yourself a deal, sweetheart, but for now, I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

a/n: i'm a slut for bucky in thunderbolts

ever wish your favourite character could send you a personalised letter? now they can via my Etsy store <3

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[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Shameless

Tags: dad!Toji x fem!reader, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, breeding kink, he calls himself daddy

Synopsis: You’re Toji’s live-in nanny. He wants to breed you, and he successfully does so.

An: This is my story on ao3!! You can read it here. If you’re feeling extra nice, a kudos would be cool too.

Being a single dad was hard. Toji learned quickly after his wife's death that he in fact couldn't do this alone. The way little Megumi's big eyes looked up to him for direction... him of all people. He was not cut out for this. Megumi's mom was a wonderful mother: sweet, nurturing, and patient. Toji really didn't know if he was any of those things.

Luckily, her life insurance provided Toji with a relatively comfortable life combined with his job in construction of course. Construction might be his vice. He got away from home for 12 hours a day, and he worked so hard that his brain was mush by the time he was home. Not that he didn't love his son, he did, but every time he looked at Megumi he saw his sweet late wife. He also saw his short comings as a father.

Babysitters quit on him regularly. It was always the same excuse. "Megumi's an angel, but I can't be here 7 days a week. I have a life too." It was incredibly annoying. They'd stay for Megumi but left due to another one of his shortcomings.

Another one quit. That would be the third one this month. "Listen Mr. Fushiguro, I know a friend. She does this sort of thing on a different level. Have you ever considered having a live-in nanny?"

That stupid girl's question enlightened Toji. He had completely forgotten that live-in nannies still existed. After getting her friend's number and paying her what he owed her for her time, Toji relaxed on the couch with little Megumi tucked into his side. The three-year-old was happily babbling next to him, enamored by Toji's phone that was in his hand.

Toji looked at the number dialed into his phone, and he sighed. He was tired of making cold calls to potential babysitters like he was some desperate whore, but maybe, maybe this would be different. He wouldn't mind having a live-in nanny. His house wouldn't mind it either. Toji would be able to finally breathe. No more coming home from 12 hour shifts to pop something to eat in the microwave and wash the dishes. He wouldn't even have to see this so-called nanny often. He could pick up more hours at work with all of his new freedom of not having to worry about pissing off the babysitter.

*** *** ***

Either way, that's how you ended up in Toji's house. For the past three months you had taken care of Megumi, cleaned and deep cleaned his entire house, cooked him plenty of dinners from scratch, and even did his laundry the exact way he preferred. His house has never looked better, and Megumi had never looked so happy.

Despite being here for three months, you barely saw Toji. He seemed to avoid you like the plague and only answer with one-worded answers, which was fine. This was your job, not your actual family. There was no need for extensive communications. Though, you had gushed to your friend plenty over text about how hot "Mr. Fushiguro" was. He was conventionally attractive, yes. But you also always had a thing for the brooding types, and dammit, Toji was brooding. There was also something to be said about how he came home in the evenings. A black wifebeater clinging to his skin from a long day of working out in the sun. His jeans would be dirty from the work he was doing. His skin glistening from a thin sheen of sweat. His hair was always a mess. Goddammit. It was enough to make you feel fertile.

It was early in the morning, Toji was getting ready to go to work. Megumi had woken up, crying for his papa not to leave him. He's going through an extra clingy phase. He's usually okay once Toji's gone.

"Papa!" Megumi cried as Toji entered the living room. You had Megumi in your lap, rocking him with a sleepy look on your face. His tears were wetting your shirt, but you didn't seem to mind.

"He'll be back tonight, Gumi." You shooshed him and continued to try to rock him and pat his back.

Toji's face was unreadable. He was never one to get all upset over Megumi's crying, but hearing his son cry out for him tugged on his heartstrings extra this morning. Then, there was you. You were a godsend to Toji's life. Getting a live-in nanny was one of the best decisions he had ever made. Above that, you were excellent with Megumi. You were sweet... nurturing... patient. He hated how seeing you with his son made him feel. It almost felt like maybe 2 kids wouldn't be that big of a deal. Maybe 3. One on each of your legs and another one swelling in your belly. God. He was disgusted in himself for thinking like that.

"I love you, kiddo." Toji said quickly as he leaned down, giving Megumi's forehead a quick peck. The toddler made grabby hands for him. It was almost enough to make him stay home. Almost. Toji's eyes met yours as he was still leaned over. His face was close to yours. The tension between them were palpable. The moment felt like eternity between them.

Then, a black credit card was in view. "I need new work gloves. Get the extra thick rubber ones, will ya? Also, get whatever you and the kid want. I'll be back late tonight." He handed you the card and sauntered out of the house despite Megumi's pleas for him to stay. You looked at the Amex black card and blinked a couple of times. Only the top earners in the world had cards like this. Toji was just an average blue collar dad... It made you wonder how he got a card like this.

You still spent that shit though.

*** *** ***

Toji looked at his phone on the jobsite. No one dared to tell him to put it away. Toji was the best most competent worker out on the field. He could work circles around supervisors and project managers alike, and he was damn smart. He didn't need a pencil and paper or a calculator to make quick conversions in his head. So, most people stayed out of his way.

He smirked and chuckled at the notifications rolling in from his bank. 78.97 at Target. 21.25 at McDonald's. 43.52 at Barnes and Noble. 9.24 at Starbucks. He was happy you and Megumi were getting to have a little shopping spree.

You were also great at keeping him updated. You sent him lots of pictures and videos of Megumi. He cherished each one of them, immediately getting some of them printed and hung up in his house. There was even a picture of you and Megumi proudly displayed in the living room. In his mind, you were an integral part of the family. The "family" simply would not function if it weren't for you.

A fond smile spread across his face as he opened his messages. A picture of Megumi's little hands trying to fit into his new gloves that she had bought him. Great. She got the right ones. "I think he wants to be just like daddy :)", the message read.

Oh.

Oh.

The twitch that just occurred in his pants should be punishable in a court of law. In no way should he have gotten turned on by that. You were just being nice. It was a normal thing for people to refer to him as "daddy" in that context. It never affected him in the way it was right now.

So anyways, that's how he ended up in the port-a-potty busting a load all over a picture of you that he had on his phone. After the shock of his orgasm that came quicker than ever, he looked down, disappointed in himself. He wasn't some horny teenage boy anymore. This was just downright deplorable. Begrudgingly, he wiped his phone clean from his sins. Post-nut clarity swirled his brain. He couldn't believe he just did that.

He called your number. He had to make things right.

"Hello? Is everything okay?" You immediately asked. After living with Toji for some time now, you learned that he doesn't just call people. He will absolutely decline a call to just text and ask what's up.

"Everything is fine." He replied, trying to hide his amusement. It was cute that you seemed so worried for him. "Are you still in town?"

"Yeah, Megumi and I are about to leave Starbucks and head home. Why? What's up?" You responded back to him. He could hear Megumi happily singing a song in the background.

"You know you spent 152 dollars today?" Toji asked as he popped his back up against the port-a-potty door. He had a lazy smirk on his face.

"Oh- crap. I'm sorry. You can take whatever you see fit out of my pay-" He interrupted your nonsense quickly.

"Do you think I'm poor?" His voice was amused, not angry like you expected it to be.

"What-? No.. no, sir. I was just-"

"I told you to get whatever you and the kid want. Don't come back home until your certain that you can't carry the amount of stuff you bought in one trip." He said quickly. His stomach was already coiling from how you called him sir. He grimaced as he felt another twitch. I just took care of you dammit.

"Oh... oh, okay? Are you su-" Click. He hung up on you. One too many dumb questions. You looked at Megumi as he strapped into the backseat of your car. He looked intrigued by the conversation even though you knew he realistically had no idea what was just said. "Daddy said we have to go to the toy store." You grinned at him. He was smiling and clapping over the word "toy".

234.22 at Toys-R-Us. 122.56 at Lego. 208.38 at Aerie. 88.21 at Ulta Beauty. Another 94.48 at Barnes and Noble.

The way Toji grinned each time he felt that familiar vibration of his phone go off, meaning another notification from his bank was off-putting. Workers on the jobsite never seen him so happy. It was his penance for being such a horny freaky fuck.

*** *** ***

It was later that same evening. Megumi was in the living room surrounded by toys and crafting materials. He was currently drawing all sorts of "shadow animals" as he called them. You would of course look and nod your head, congratulating him on each terribly drawn animal. You acted like that was the best damn wolf-bear-owl hybrid you ever saw.

You were in the kitchen cooking chicken and dumplings. The clock on the stove read seven p.m. You didn't expect to see Toji at all this evening. He said he was working late this morning. Usually, that meant he was dragging his feet in through the door until well past ten p.m.

Still, you made him a serving of chicken and dumpling soup. You always did. Even when he worked late, you would put him a helping of dinner in the microwave to keep warm. You never knew, but he was always delighted by that. He ate the dinners each time.

A key jingling in the door handle caught your attention while you were getting Megumi settled at the dining room table. Three-year-olds were so hard to manage: too small to eat by themselves but too big to be locked in a high chair.

Toji stepped into the living room with a small grunt. He smirked as he looked around at his destroyed living room. Toys, crayons, and pieces of "artwork" were strewn all about the place. He glanced up towards you and Megumi in the kitchen. He took note of how your face was flushed and surprised.

"Papa!" Megumi happily shouted before the little bastard ran from your grasp to go hug on Toji's legs. His dad smiled as he looked down at Megumi, and he used his hand to mess up Megumi's hair affectionately.

"Go eat your food, kiddo." Toji said warmly to his son. Megumi happily obliged and ran right back to his seat right next to you, and you fed him a spoonful of the soup.

"You're home early." You stated the obvious.

Toji would never tell you, but he left early because he missed you two.

"Don't sound too happy to see me." He remarked in a sarcastic tone.

"What-? No, I just.. would've cleaned up more had I known you would be home so soon..." You responded. Megumi was sitting beside you whining for another bite of food. You snapped out of your surprise, and you fed him another bite of chicken and dumplings.

"Why? I don't give a damn what this place looks like." Toji said with a small nonchalant shrug. He walked through the living room, carefully stepping over the toys. Before you had become his nanny, this was how his house normally looked: messy, lived in. "I've got a bowl of dinner in the microwave. My kid's happy and fed. I couldn't care less what that living room looks like."

Your heart fluttered at the sentiment. Toji was easy to please. He really just wanted what was best for his kid, and that was you. "I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." You replied. He looked at you with an unreadable expression. It looked like he might've wanted to say something, but he had backed out last minute. He hummed and walked towards his bedroom to shower the dirt, sweat, and grime from the day.

While Toji showered, you had finished feeding Megumi and yourself. You allowed Megumi to have about an hour of TV time before bed. He really enjoyed old X-Men cartoons. You turned them on for him and parked him on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket.

You hummed softly as you worked in the kitchen. You packed meal prep containers of soup for Toji to take for lunch for the next couple of days. Then, you were washing dishes in front of the sink.

*** *** ***

"I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." Your words repeated in Toji's head over and over like a mantra. He hadn't felt so... cared for in a long, long time. It made his heart feel full, which was an unfamiliar feeling for him. A less unfamiliar feeling was his dick standing fully erect and at attention. He groaned quietly as he leaned his head back in the shower.

Something had to be in the air recently. He was a grown man with desires, sure. But this was a new record for him. Ever since you started being a live-in nanny for him, the boners were a daily thing. Hell, twice or three times a day sometimes. He's tried everything... Well, okay, maybe not everything, but he's tried cold showers and staying away from you. Neither of those things work to soothe him.

His hand was gliding up and down his length for the second time today. He was facing the shower wall with his arm propped up on it, supporting his head. Damn you for making him feel like a slave to his desires. You wanted to make sure he had nothing to worry about? Then, you should be the one in here fixing this damn mess, not him. He pitifully rutted into his hand, imaging he's plunging deep into you. Imagining the multiple ways he'd fuck the hell out of you is the only thing that soothes the ache, but this time he didn't see an end in sight.

He gritted his teeth together, and he balled up his fist, rearing back before stopping himself. He's not a teenager anymore. He can't punch walls. He took a deep breath and turned the shower off. No, this won't do. He needs to fix this at the source.

After quickly drying off and getting dressed, he walked back into the kitchen. His eyes scanned over the house. Megumi was enthralled by the TV, and you were washing dishes. Perfect.

He slowly approached you from behind. He could tell you didn't hear him as you were still softly humming. Usually, you would stop humming if he entered the kitchen. He never understood why. The sounds of your melancholic hums were beautiful and soothing to him.

He was directly behind you, and his hands gently cupped your hips. You immediately flinched and made a soft scream that was quickly silenced by one of his hands. "Shh, we don't want to disturb the little brat, do we?" Toji said into your ear. His warm breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, making you shiver.

Toji's eyes flicked over towards the living room. Megumi hadn't moved an inch. Perfect.

Toji slowly released your mouth. To his delight, you didn't make a sound. He could hear how your breath was slightly labored from him scaring you. A small chuckle rose from his throat. His hands went back to your hips, and he pressed himself against your voluptuous ass. A hum of approval escaped him. He could see your hands gripping the countertops.

"Nod your head. You like this? Want me to keep pressing myself against you?" Toji whispered into your ear. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, and you nodded your head eagerly, giving him consent.

"Dirty fucking girl." His voice was like a growl in your ear as he started to move his hips, dragging his length up and down along you. You could feel each inch of his length beckoning for you. "I knew you'd take whatever I gave you, but this? Letting me grind against you like a pathetic teenager while my son is in the living room? You're such a fucking slut." His hands were digging into your hips as he continued his controlled motions.

"Mnn.. fuck.." You softly whimpered out. Thank god the X-Men were currently in a loud fight scene.

You slightly frowned as you suddenly didn't feel Toji behind you anymore. You were about to turn around and ask what he was doing, but his fingers curling into the waistband of your leggings told you everything you needed to know. "Toji-" You managed to whisper out. No way could you two do this while Megumi was in the next room over.

"Shut up." Toji interrupted you. He had taken his throbbing length out of his sleeping pants, and he had a look of concentration on his face as he angled himself right at your entrance. "You have no fucking idea how long I've needed this. So just be a good girl, shut up, and take what I give you."

Direct orders from your boss. Who were you to deny the man who just spoiled you all day today?

It was a tight fit. Toji wasn't a gentleman. He didn't prep you with his fingers or mouth. This wasn't love making. It was hardly fucking. This was fulfilling a need.

"God... fuck. I didn't expect you to be that tight." He growled into your neck as he held your hips still against him. It felt like he was splitting you apart. You couldn't even respond to him.

He noticed how tightly you were gripping the counter and how you weren't responding to him. Your knuckles were turning white. He almost felt guilty. His hand came around the front of you, and he gently rubbed the swollen bundle of nerves. "Shhh... You can take it. I know you can." He whispered into your ear as it was taking every last shred of self-restraint not to fuck you into oblivion right on this counter. He slowly pulled back until just his tip was inside, and he pushed all the way back in. "That's it. There's my good girl." He praised in your ear. It was not lost on him that he felt you get wetter with each praise.

He hesitated, but he said it anyway, "You wanna be a good girl for daddy, don't you?" He whispered into your ear. That phrase made you tremble in his arms and nod your head. He slowly pulled back out and pushed right back in, taking you slowly. "That's right... hngh, fuck." He moaned into your ear. "You want to be fucked by daddy. You want to take his cock like a good girl. Take it." His hips started to move with more conviction.

You were already so out of it. This was like a dirty fantasy come true. You couldn't help but check the TV a few times to make sure X-Men was still playing. You were still worried that Megumi might run in here for whatever reason and see you bent over in front of his dad. You knew it was unlikely. Megumi could watch that TV like a zombie all day if you let him. Besides, you would be able to hear the small pitter-patter of his footsteps.

"Stop looking at the fucking TV. Trust me." Toji growled into your ear as he forced your hips down onto him roughly. A noiseless gasp escaped you. He wasn't small, and he knew that. He was using it to his advantage.

"Fuck." He groaned quietly as he rubbed you with a bit more fervor. You could already feel that familiar warm feeling coiling in your stomach. "I'm going to fuck a baby into you. You were fucking made for this. Made for raising my kids and taking my fucking load." He was spewing nonsense into your ear, but in the moment, you couldn't help but nod and moan. "You were made for me." He proclaimed as his hips continued harshly snapping into your backside. Somehow the sounds were masked.

"You want that, don't you?" He asked as he bit down on your neck then lapped at the bite mark with his tongue.

"Yes, daddy!" You quietly exclaimed. His thrusts only increased in power. Your eyes started to cross, getting lost in pleasure.

"Fuck. You're gonna look so perfect pregnant with my baby. I won't let you have a break. As soon as one comes out; I'm puttin' another one in you." He continued on yapping about how many kids he was going to pump into you. "I'll breed you again and again." His thrusts were heavy and brutal. You couldn't take it anymore.

He moaned as he felt you clenching around him, finishing all over his cock. It was enough to drive him overboard. He pumped you full of cum until you were sure some of it was seeping out.

There was a peaceful moment of dizzy highness for you two. Toji panted against your back. For the first time in while, he's felt satisfied. A soft amused laugh escaped him as he heard the iconic X-Men episode coming to an end. He swiftly pulled out of you, and he tried to ignore that little whimper of protest you let out. He tucked himself back into his pants, and he pulled your leggings and panties back up for you since you were still a trembling mess over the counter.

"Alright Kiddo, c'mon. Time for bed." Toji said as he sauntered off into the living room as if he didn't just rearrange your guts. He put Megumi to bed that night, and he cleaned up the living room for you, allowing for you to recover in his bed for round two. He was much more of a gentleman for round two.

*** *** ***

"Hey... I know I ain't been to see you in a while. I'm sorry." Toji said as he sat down on the grassy ground. "I was letting life pass me by for too damn long." He said as he took a wet washcloth and began to wash up his late wife's gravestone. "I'm doing better now, so don't worry about me."

"Megumi's growing like a weed. I'm sorry I didn't bring him to see you... I just don't know how to explain it to him." Toji's voice was full of guilt as he dragged the wet washcloth against the stone. "He's a good kid though. He looks just like you, damn bastard." He softly laughed, knowing his wife would've struck him over the side of the head for calling Megumi a damn bastard.

"Listen... I met a girl." He leaned his head over the gravestone. It had been close to three months since you and Toji started sleeping together. There wasn't a formal label to your relationship, but it didn't feel necessary. You two both knew you were sleeping exclusively with each other. "I think you'd like her, or maybe you wouldn't since she's fucking your husband. But either way... I-" He choked up a bit as he held onto the cold stone. "I feel so fucking guilty... I know you're not coming home anytime soon, but I just... I need your blessing. If you can somehow hear me, please... I never asked you for anything until I asked you to marry me. Now, I'm asking... please somehow show me you approve of this."

"She's good for me... She takes good care of Megumi. He's so damn attached to her somedays." Toji softly laughed as he remembered how a few nights ago Megumi crawled into bed with you and him because he had a nightmare. Instead of taking to Toji like he normally does, he crawled into your arms. Toji had never felt so damn proud and slighted at the same time.

"I should get going. Give me a sign though.. Something that tells me you approve." He finished his visit with his wife, and he went home.

*** *** ***

That night at dinner, Megumi sped into the kitchen with an action figure in his hand. He was pretending to be Batman. "Gumi, I've told you three times. Stop running." You said as you gave the small child a look. Toji smirked as he knew that look good and well. It was the look a mom gave as a warning. Megumi was on his last warning.

"I'm sorry, mama." Megumi apologized, causing for both you and Toji to freeze right in your tracks. Megumi had never called you mama before. He always said your name.

Your heart swelled in your chest. It was a feeling of affection and guilt. "Oh no... baby.." You said softly as you took his hand. You lead him into the living room, and you crouched down, showing him a picture of his mom to him. "That's mama." You gently corrected him.

Toji watched the scene like a hawk from the dinner table. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had never been shy about telling Megumi who his mom was, but he hadn't exactly been forthcoming about how his mom passed away when he was a small baby.

Megumi pointed at the picture. "Mama." He said quietly. You nodded and patted his head.

"That's right." You praised affectionately. He then turned his attention to you. and he poked your chest with his tiny finger.

"Mama." He said, pointing at you.

"No-"

"It's alright." Toji spoke up from his seat at the dinner table.

"I don't want him to be confused..." You replied as you slowly stood back up, looking at Toji.

"He doesn't sound confused to me." He retorted with a small grin. You turned your attention back to Megumi, and Toji looked up towards the ceiling. "Thank you." He muttered so quietly before kissing the necklace that hung around his neck. He had his wife's blessing. This proved it.

After finishing his dinner, Toji joined you two in the living room. You and Megumi were curled up on each side of his while watching that old X-Men cartoon. Suddenly, Megumi rose from the couch. You and Toji watched him with a hint of confusion.

"What is he doing?" You softly asked Toji as Megumi bent over, and he looked between his legs at both you and Toji.

"I have no fucking id-" He was about to respond, but then, it hit him. "Get up." He said as he stood up from the couch. He quickly grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet like a madman.

"What? What? Is something wrong?" You asked as you had never seen Toji move this fast. You quickly got up too.

"Nothing's wrong. Come on. We're going to the store." He grunted as he swooped Megumi into his arms.

You were confused and in denial when Toji bought a pregnancy test and made you take it. Now, both of you were waiting outside of the bathroom for the five minutes to be over. "This is crazy, Toji. I'm not pregnant."

"It's an old wives' tale. When babies do that, it's supposed to mean their looking for their sibling." Toji said with a nonchalant shrug as if what he said was matter-of-fact. "My mother told me that's how she knew she was pregnant with me."

The timer went off on his phone, and both of you fought to get into the bathroom first. He eventually overpowered you and snatched the pregnancy test off the counter quickly. "Oh." He said quietly. The room went still.

Suddenly, your heart was racing. "What is it? Is it negative?" You asked a hint of disappointment hit you. You didn't know why, but a small part of you hoped for it to be positive.

"Oh, you're fucking getting it tonight." Toji smirked as he turned the pregnancy test over. Two pink lines were clear as day on the test. You're pregnant.

Tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @theuniversesnepobaby

[dramaticals]

DRAMIONE FIC RECS + WHY YOU SHOULD READ THEM — 100k+ words edition

hogwarts: a home by coralcollective — reimagined horcrux hunt. draco is so down bad for hermione and the smut is crazyyy. theo/hermione friendship. pansy is the breakout character and you'll love her. there's nsfw art and inappropriate use of the malfoy signet ring. please check the tags! (it says incomplete on ao3, but it's only missing epilogues so don't be afraid of starting it)

word count: 372,978

chapters: 67/70

the commoner's guide to bedding a royal by olivieblake — god, this fic!!!! it's a modern royal au and the ensemble of characters make this whole world feel so alive. it's inspired by will/kate and harry/meghan and it's sooo cute. theo and daphne were the breakout characters and i love them dearly. if you're looking for a lighthearted romcom-esque, occasionally angsty (because duh!) fic, this is it!!! i probably read this in two days which is insane considering the word count, but that should just tell you how lovely this whole fic was. there's a second part to this if you're itching for more afterwards (and it's just as good!)

word count: 503,570

chapters: 45/45

draco malfoy and the mortifying ordeal of being in love by isthisselfcare — honestly if you haven't read this yet..... this is god tier. a CLASSIC. this should be taught in the schools. hermione's a magical researcher / healer and draco's one of the best aurors out there. he's assigned to protect hermione because she's in the midst of a big discovery. hermione's not happy about it and draco isn't either. slow burn!! idiots in LOVE!! forced proximity!!!!! EMBEDDED ART!!! honestly this is the fic that made me want to learn how to bind which is so serious and if you haven't read this yet you need to.

word count: 199,548

chapters: 36/36

the disappearances of draco malfoy by speechwriter — this is my new canon. it's a deathly hallows rewrite where draco accepts dumbledore's offer to fake his death and go into hiding with the order. enemies to friends to lovers. i honestly can't even remember what happened in canon because this is IT for me.

word count: 289,780

chapters: 33/33

this world or any other series by olivieblake — includes clean (book one) and marked (book two). anything by olivieblake should be a must-read, i swear to god. this one starts as a year 6 slow burn. draco and hermione are assigned partners for potions and it all snowballs from there. olivie writes so beautifully and her characterizations for hermione / draco are so good. slight warning for marked: this destroyed me and i pretend it doesn't exist, but it's still a must-read.

word count: 118,892 & 178,268

chapters: 31/31 & 39/39

rights and wrongs series by lovesbitca8 — you want fluffy dramione? read the first two parts of the rights and wrongs series. you want dark and heavy dramione? read the auction, an alternate universe of the fluffy dramione, where voldemort wins and they all get auctioned off to death eaters. please check the tags for the voldy wins au! all three were chef's kiss and coming from someone who isn't a fan of dark aus, reading the first two helped me get through the auction because you know where draco's coming from / what's in his head. you can just read the auction without reading the first two parts unless you like catching parallels and having more depth / context (which i very much love).

word count: 174,911 & 160,297 & 325,876

chapters: 36/36 & 24/24 & 41/41

[cinnasite]

SOS #needthatstrap

꩜ pairing: modern!au abby anderson x female reader

꩜ warnings: explicit content (mean dom abby yum), language

꩜ word count: 1.4k

꩜ synopsis: you sent the photo on impulse—aching and desperate for your girlfriend. but hours pass with no reply. when abby finally comes home, you learn the hard way that silence doesn’t mean she’s ignoring you. it means she’s about to make you regret everything.

You know Abby’s busy.

She’d warned you in the morning—it was the last day of her internship, packed with back-to-back presentations, and there would be a routine debrief with her supervisor before she’s finally free—with a raised brow, clearly apprehensive of you pulling something like this.

You’d wished her good luck. Specially woken up early to prepare her favourite lunch.

But by three in the afternoon, your hands are down your panties, lip caught between your teeth, and you're taking the most risque selfies on the bed you both share. The sheer lace bralette does absolutely nothing to hide your perky nipples, your thighs spread just wide enough to show how needy you are.

You’ve been behaving so well for Abby, happily sending her off to work for almost a month as if you weren’t thinking of convincing her to stay home every day just so you could eat her out to your heart’s content. Simply put, you were extremely pent-up. Could anyone honestly blame you?

Snapping yourself out of your distracting thoughts and bringing your attention back to your phone, you decide to send the photo you deem best with a satisfied chuckle. 

You: [one attachment] You: wish you were here abs  You: she misses you sm she’s dripping all over :(

You toss the device aside and giggle in glee. Anticipating your girlfriend’s equally naughty reciprocation lights an incessant fire beneath your skin and you shiver as your imagination overwhelms you. However, you’re stunned to find that it’s been more than two hours without so much as a reply. Not even a “read”. No form of acknowledgement whatsoever. 

You huff. Pace the apartment, beyond frustrated. Bury your face in her hoodie and get needier, if possible. You end up back in bed, still wet, still wound tight—and that’s exactly how Abby discovers you when she unlocks the door just past eight.

God, she looks delicious. She always does. Her hair is tied back, button-down sleeves rolled up the way you like it. Her chest heaves a little like she sprinted to get to you as quickly as she could. The thought, frankly, makes you burn.

Her furious eyes land on you in a second: sprawled on the mattress, nothing but that same torturous lace on, the vibrator on the sheets beside you, and a hint of slick glistening between your legs. You notice how her jaw clenches momentarily and your pulse quickens.

She doesn’t speak at first, only stalks to the bed like she’s been aching all day to wreck you. “You think that was funny, sweetheart?” she mutters as she shrugs her bag off and kicks her shoes away. “Sending... that while I was in a room full of people?”

Your mouth parts to answer but she’s already got your thighs in her hands, dragging you to the edge of the bed. Her sudden actions make you squeak in surprise.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself. I couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t speak. Had to excuse myself just to sit in a bathroom stall and remember how to fucking breathe.”

Her mouth crashes into yours without warning—hot, rough, claiming—and she wastes no time. Fingers slide down your clothed slit, already drenched, and you feel her smirk against your lips.

“This for me, huh? Just from clicking some nudes?”

"Abby, I—"

You don’t get to finish your sentence.

Because two fingers are already shoving your panties aside and sliding inside you, knuckle-deep, curling just right. You cry out and clutch her biceps, but Abby's relentless. She doesn’t spare you a chance to get used to the stretch. Only pushes your thighs open, plants one palm on your hip to hold you down, and fucks you on her fingers hard and fast.

“You wanted this,” she nearly growls, thumb brushing your clit with every thrust. “You wanted me so bad you couldn’t even wait. Look at you—already about to come. I haven’t even done anything yet, baby.”

You try to speak, eyes glassy, but your voice is utterly broken. You’re so, so close, it physically hurts.

“Say it,” she demands, breathing ragged. “Say whose pussy this is.”

"Y-Yours, Abby!"

And you shatter. She doesn’t let you shy away. Doesn’t let you hide your face or recover. Her teeth are on your throat, biting down, one hand dragging off her pants while the other pulls the harness from the drawer like it’s muscle memory.

“Up,” she orders, and you barely register your own self moving—lying back as she straps in, thick and mean-looking and sexy. You’re sure your legs are jelly at this point.

She smoothly slides back between them, guides the strap to your fluttering hole, and thrusts in hard.

You scream from the unexpectedness of it all. It might be hard to believe for most, but Abby was a sweet lover. She’d braid your hair whenever you asked, bring you whatever you were craving at four in the morning if you so wished and she always looked out for you constantly. That sincere care and consideration carried into the bedroom as well—touching you reverently, whispering praises into your skin and prioritising your pleasure and comfort.

Tonight, you realised with a shaky inhale, you had unleashed something primal within her.

She pounds you like she owns you, hips slapping against yours, her toned frame keeping you in place while she works your clit in harsh, tight circles. You’re already overstimulated, but Abby doesn’t give a shit.

“Should’ve been patient,” she pants right into your ear, sweat dripping from her temple. “Should’ve behaved like a good girl instead of teasing me like a fucking slut.”

You moan at her words, growing dizzy, grabbing at the sheets like they’ll anchor you through this. “Look at me,” she hisses through her teeth, and you do. What you see in her eyes ruins you even more: hunger, want, love, masked in heat and dominance.

Your orgasm hits you again, more intense, thighs clamping around her hips as she fucks you through it. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream and you’re absolutely spent.

But, apparently, Abby isn’t.

She pulls out with an embarrassingly loud squelch and grips your waist with bruising strength. In spite of her actions, she presses an affectionate peck to your nose, wordlessly communicating that she’d never hurt you.

“Your turn, baby.”

You barely make sense of her statement, but your body automatically reacts. It always does.

She lies back, muscles taut, and you can’t resist dragging your tongue along the vast expanse of her torso. She lets out a pleasant “oh”, gently fisting your hair before pulling you to sit where she wants you. You climb onto her lap, legs already shaking from the strain.

“You wanted it so bad, right?” she tilts her head mockingly, one hand trailing up your spine. “Then fucking ride me.”

You pout, shimmering tears threatening to spill over, “Abs, I’m sorry. I-I can’t—It’s too much—”

“You can and you will. Now, shut that pretty mouth up and get to it.”

You lower yourself down with a sniffle, inch by inch, and the sensation turns your brain into mush—too thick, too good—but you do it anyway. Because you need her. Because you want her like you’ve never wanted anything else.

Abby watches you with feral eyes, fingers inching slowly to wrap around your throat as you start to move. The grind of it has you screaming, overstimulation crackling through every nerve.

“God, fuck,” she groans, hips lifting just enough to meet yours. “You feel that, sweetheart? That’s what you get for acting like a whore.”

You’re gasping, grinding harder just to hear the sounds she makes. You feel her touch roam your body, cupping your breast, slapping your ass a few times before fondling it languidly.

“Don’t stop till you come again,” she snarls, lips at your ear. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

And you don’t.

You jump up and down until your body gives out completely—until you’re collapsing forward in her arms, sobbing her name, a third climax crashing over you like a tsunami.

She holds you tight and kisses your temple. Rubs your back through the aftershocks. You wait for her to carry you to the bathroom and clean you up like she always does. But all that fills your vision is her predatory grin, low and wicked.

“Oh, no, baby,” she murmurs, leaning down to tangle her tongue with your own, biting your bottom lip between her words. “You didn’t think we were done, did you? You’re not getting away till you’ve ruined the sheets and can’t say anything but my fucking name.”

That’s exactly what she does. Fucks you until you’re babbling incoherently and can’t move by the end of it, too ruined to make sense of your surroundings.

All because of one photo. 

Maybe… you’ll send ten more tomorrow.

[timmydraker]

The Drake family has existed for a long time, originating from England and being proud doctors in the New World that was the America.

They were responsible for saving many of the soldiers in the war for their choice to be independent to be made true, even being responsible for training medics that saved Washington.

So naturally, with such an extensive (and possibly exaggerated) history filled with respectable and admirable people, they had rules to follow. The rules were meant to show respect for their heritage, for the way they helped push so much medical research and most importantly, reputation.

The Drake Family Rules had existed for over a hundred years. The original book made for young Drake’s and introduced family members was kept safe within a glass case in the centre of the Drake Mansion.

It started with 32 rules, though naturally more were added over time.

When Tim was born there was 122, and as he began to learn to read through the words of the much more modern looking book, his mother swapped it out six times as she added more books. As the one who originally had the Drake name, only she could, though Jack could make suggestions. By the time he was eight there was 173.

Tim had known these rules his whole life and sees them the same way the pervade civilian sees laws.

Maybe even more so.

Some of the rules were obvious and made a lot of sense, such as Rule 5: ‘A Drake should never dishonour his or her’s spouse in any manner’ or Rule 27: ‘A Drake does not gamble away his or hers own money’.

But then there were some out dated ones like Rule 15: ‘A Drake should never been seen wearing a broken pocket watch, for this shows a lack of care to the time of others’ and Rule 11: ‘A Drake should accept the cane from a teacher with grace and decorum’.

Or the more entitled ones like Rule 26: ‘A Drake does not do the washing, that is the maids duty’ and the worst one as far as Tim was concerned, Rule 5: ‘A Drake does not fornicate with anyone of varying skin tones or the common folk’.

Then the bazar one’s…

Rule 112: ‘A Drake should not be seen in public past 11 PM’.

Rule 78: ‘A Drake does not drink out of anything that is not made of glass’.

Rule 102: ‘A Drake must keep a coin inside his or hers shoe when leaving home’.

And Tim’s favourite, Rule 98: ‘A Drake must not die of sickness lest this affect the trust of the public’.

A lot were about health, like Rule 3: ‘A Drake must study the science of medicine no matter his or hers biology’ . Some were about dedication to making a healthy society while others were just about committing to the family business.

Tim didn’t mind these rules all that much and only really learnt them because it was expected of him. He didn’t think all of them were necessary, a fair few due to the time period, but it didn’t really hurt for him to learn them all and keep them up.

Tim still kept a coin inside his shoe after all, because while it was super weird, it didn’t hurt.

He was sure if Bruce knew about The Drake Family Rules and how well Tim follows them he would be furious at the evidence that Tim can do what he’s told, he just doesn’t want to.

[maugustiee]

In his quiet

Modern!Smoke (Elijah) x reader

Synopsis:Marie has been dating Elijah but over time she realizes he may be quiet but a little crazy.

Elijah didn’t talk much.

He didn’t have to.

He walked into rooms and people stepped aside—clean-cut, sharply dressed, quiet like a shadow. No unnecessary words, no performance. Just that gaze, cool and unreadable, like he was calculating something you didn’t know you were offering.

When Marie first started dating him, she thought he was cold. Until she learned better.

Elias wasn’t cold. He was still.

Still like a warning. Still like someone who didn’t react to things because he didn’t have to because he already knew how it would play out.

And for a while, that made her feel safe.

⸻

They’d been together for over a year. Long enough for Marie to have a closet in his condo. Long enough for her to learn what kind of liquor he liked and how he hated being touched when he was thinking. He ran three businesses, partially owned with his twin brother.

⸻

Marie didn’t call it love at first sight. Elias didn’t offer warmth the way other men had. He wasn’t playful or charming or performative, she filled that box for him. He remembered small things. He handled her with slow, deliberate care that made her feel chosen.

When she got promoted, he didn’t just send flowers,he took her to a three-Michelin-star restaurant in New York and flew them back the same night.

No words, just a text saying : “Be ready at seven.”

And when the waiter made a flirtatious comment like Elijah wasn’t sitting there, he said nothing. But he made sure at the end of dinner the waiter didn’t make that mistake again by almost breaking his jaw before going back to his lady who had know clue.

⸻

The first time she saw it, it made her stomach tighten. They were at a gallery opening in Midtown.

Marie loved art. Elias tolerated it for her. He stood at her side, tall and silent while she floated between installations. She liked that he let her be social, let her be herself.

“I love you in blue baby, you know you getting some tonight” she said teasingly, he just wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her close and kissed her.

That night, she ran into an old classmate. Darren.

They hugged. Nothing more.

“Marie, You haven’t aged at all,” Darren said, looking her up and down. “You always had that light on you.”

She laughed, lightly. “You still corny.”

He leaned in. “Some things don’t change.”

Elias didn’t interrupt. Didn’t speak.

Just watched.

Marie introduced him briefly, and Darren gave one of those half-nods men give other men when they’re sizing each other up.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, offering a hand.

Elias shook it. No expression.

Later, on the ride home, Marie turned toward him.

“You okay?”

Elias stared ahead at the traffic. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

She hesitated. “You were quiet. Even for you.”

“I dont like him.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

He glanced at her, slow and unreadable. “Good.”

⸻

Nothing was ever direct with him. He didn’t get loud. Didn’t accuse.

But that night, when they got home, he didn’t touch her. He didn’t sleep beside her. He sat at the edge of the bed for a long time, elbows on his knees, hands clasped.

And finally said “I don’t like feeling invisible,” he said. “Not when it comes to you.”

Her heart thudded. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel that way.”

“I know,” he said, standing. “But some things don’t need to be tried. They just are.”

⸻

She told herself it was normal for a man like him to feel that way. Elias was protective, not possessive. Stoic, not unstable.

Because under all that silence, all that control, was someone who took care of her better than anyone ever had. Who never never had to tell her “wait til Thursday when I get paid”,who made her cum under 5 minutes without fucking her.

But when he pulled her into his lap while they were watching a movie, he whispered something that sent chills up her spine.

“I’d forgive you for anything, you know that?”

Marie tilted her head. “What?”

He kissed her collarbone. “Anything. Lie to me. Cheat. I’d still keep you. I’d just make sure you never wanted to do it again.”

She didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure how. But she had to say something.

“Do you ever think maybe you get too serious about me?”

Elias looked up from the tv.

“What that mean?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Sometimes it feels like you love me so much it scares me.”

“Scares you how?”

“Like… if I ever left, you wouldn’t let me.”

He stared at her for a long time. Then smiled. Touched her cheek.

“You say that like leaving’s an option.”

Marie’s breath caught.

And Elias? He kissed her forehead.

Ok I tried something a little new for me let me know if you like it, kisses 😚

[dcxdpdabbles]

Everything is fun and games until Menace!Danny's little siblings find out that he's the one with a partner.

I'm a little sibling. I know we have a perfect 10 steps plan to make the partner disappear. Menace!Danny is giving shovel talk — his siblings are kidnapping and doing human sacrifice because violence is the only possible answer.

The first time it happened, it was a goth girl. Her name was irrelevant (though they would soon learn that Danny had a type), but they knew that Danny had met her at a protest.

Apparently, the two had been attempting to stop a project that was going to cause damage to the local buildings. Danny was a big fan of protecting Gotham's iconic Gothic infrastructure and was appalled that the big corporations wanted to tear it down and move to more modern skyscrapers.

Now it's well-known that the Waynes all looked up to Danny. He was everything they wanted to be.

Danny could match Bruce in hand-to-hand combat, make even the most stubborn of heroes respect him with a few soft spoken words, and not to mention his inventing ability. Danny was the glue that kept them all together and their unwavering leader in the darkest if nights.

Despite the rumors, the masses (and themselves before they actually met him) believed Danny was sensitive in an almost heartbreakingly kind way, which worried them for their brother. If the world thought the worst of him, then Danny likely had the worst of the worst attempting to use him.

The Waynes all collectively agree that no one was worthy of Danny's time, especially some goth girl who commented more than once that "dirtbags like Fenton-Wayne" were relatively easy..

And really, she was all about death as a goth, so why had she made such a big deal about them nearly feeding her to Killer Croc? If she liked Death so much, why was she even still alive? They were doing her a favor.

Danny had been rather sad for a few days when she was rejected, even when walking near him, but he took it as their personalities not matching. He was unaware of them slowly lowering her towards a canopy while Dancing Queen was playing. Dick had made sure she could see them dancing to the music as they each took turns reading the comments they documented her saying and then pulling the level to have her drop little by litte.

When she threatened to involve the cops, Tim laughed and told her they were rich. The rich always get a slap on the wrist, especially against someone in her tax bracket. More so with her having no proof.

They made sure she had no proof.

She left the city the following month, but by then, the Waynes had turned their attention to the third son of the Trox family. He had flirted with Danny, who seemed to believe it was the beginning of an epic romantic tale, unaware that the Trox boy was bragging about how easily he got the eldest Wayne on his knees.

Jason was working on how to take Trox's kneecaps without the police, Bruce, or Danny any the wiser as revenge for those comments. His siblings were more than happy to get it done.

[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. 

[adoredaqua]

After hours

NOTE: i don't think this was my greatest work, but it is something. please go easy on me, it's been a while since i wrote 😩🙏. also, it got angsty, i kept listening to "Let down" by Radiohead, so ummm... yeah... also happy 200!! i <3 you all so much!! xoxo 🥰💕

this is the inspo for this (i changed some bits so it fits better)

synopsis: oldergf!Sevika doesn't believe she's good enough for you, but does her insecurity run so deep that she's not willing to be with you anymore?

CW: feminine reader, angsty, modern setting, no usage of y/n, not edited, age gap (reader is twenty-five and sevika is forty-one), mentions of alcohol and smoking (not detailed), power dynamic (sevika is technically reader's boss but not directly), office romance, sevika is whipped for you (like really bad)

word count: 4 000+

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Sevika was the best gift that life could give you. Whenever you were with her, it felt too good to be true. Being with her made you realize that nothing could ever compare to her or any experience you've had in the past. She was older than you, but that didn't stop love from blooming.

She didn't mean to fall for you. She did everything in her power not to, but as soon as you smiled at her and thanked her for helping you with directions, she felt she had no choice. After that, she kept seeing you around. She hadn't realized that you would be the new hire at work. If she had known that, maybe she would have done more to prevent her heart from beating for you. Thankfully, you worked in a different department, which helped Sevika focus on her work. But it was as if you were following her, as though you knew she was falling for you and that she was resisting you. Every time you walked past her office to go to your cubicle, she savoured the view, memorizing the outfit you wore and how you styled your hair. She liked every hairstyle on you, but her favourite was when it was down. Sevika was often spellbound by the way it bounced when you walked away. She learned your schedule, and when she discovered that you liked to arrive at the office earlier than everyone else, just so you could settle in, she began to come in earlier than necessary; she didn't need to be there in the mornings, but she did so just to catch a glimpse of you. Sevika knew she couldn't have you, but that's what she liked about you.

You have kind eyes. Full of curiosity about the world, about her. The first time she had gotten to you was at an after-work event. It was a successful quarter, and to celebrate, everyone had made plans to go to a bar, the Last Drop. Sevika wasn't planning on going but was convinced after hearing that you would be present as well. Silco, her business partner, didn't question her about her sudden change of mind. He was simply entertained.

You were making your rounds, talking to everyone and catching up. Everyone seems to love you, and honestly, who wouldn't? You were so kind and sweet. You baked for the office, even providing a gluten-free option for those who wanted it. If someone confided in you about late work, you would offer to help them, and you simply wanted nothing in return. You were an angel, and Sevika had never wanted anyone more.

Sevika stayed put by the bar, talking to Vander and Silco, catching a glimpse of you here and there. By the second hour, the two men had grown sick of her longing, lovestruck stares.

"Why don't you just go up to her? Talk to her instead of staring at her." Vander suggested, giving her a knowing look. The trio has known each other for a while, going to college together. 

"I can't," Sevika groaned into her hands.

"And why not?" Now it was Silco's turn to tease the scary lady of the office.

"Because… that's just inappropriate," Sevika stated the obvious, but she knew deep down she was just using that as an excuse. She technically wasn't your boss, but the boss's boss. Still, Sevika wasn't one to mix business and pleasure. For the past two decades, Sevika has put her life and soul into this company she's built with Silco. She knows nothing but work. As she grew older, she realized she needed to set boundaries with herself. No one was there to take care of her, so she needed to. Work ended as soon as she left the building. No matter how important it was, she's made it clear not to call or email her after hours.

"Besides, I don't think she would be very interested in an old lady." Even with the sheepish smile on her face, Sevika's tone of voice was serious, meaning she didn't want to be pressed on. Vander stirs the conversation elsewhere, now asking about how it was nearing 20 years since the establishment of the company. 

The bar has gotten louder than what Sevika would have liked. Vander occupied the bar, fixing drinks while Silco was now entertaining a group of employees. Her leather jacket was now slung over the back of her chair, the white tee clinging to her body, and her muscles were on full display. Despite her age, Sevika was still a very fit woman. A couple of silver rings splayed on her thick fingers, she nurses a drink that’s gone warm while the ice melts in defiance of the glass. She’s halfway through weighing if it’s time for her to take her leave. There wasn’t much of a point in staying; she had already played a couple of rounds of cards with the others that she had promised. As she plans her exit, you decide to sit beside her. 

Not near her. Not across the bar where she can pretend she doesn’t see you.

Beside her.

Sevika’s fingers tighten around her glass. 

You glance over, bright-eyed and a little flushed from whatever conversation you peeled away from. “I didn’t expect you to stay this long in the night.” You say, voice light, like you had already talked before. Like, Sevika wasn’t your boss’s boss, who people usually avoided unless something was going wrong, so she could be the one to break the news to Silco. 

She doesn’t smile, not because she doesn’t want to, but because she doesn’t trust herself. 

“Didn’t expect to stay this late,” she mutters, eyes fixated on her drink, like it was the most interesting sight she had ever seen. “Thought I could finally make my quick escape.” 

You giggle - and fuck, it’s angelic. “Guess I ruined that plan.”

“You have a habit of doin’ that?” The words come out before she can stop them. Too casual. Too easy. 

You arch a brow, “ruining plans?”

“Making it hard to leave.”

She sees how your expression falters, just a flicker, before you giggle again - a curiosity blooming within. This was the first time you were talking to one of the big bosses, and you didn’t expect it to be like this. You weren’t going to complain, though. She swears under her breath and quickly finishes her drink. 

This was a bad idea. You shouldn’t be encouraging this. She shouldn’t be looking at you like this. There are unspoken lines, and she’s made a career out of respecting them - keeping her hands clean even when her knuckles are split open. And yet here you were, with a soft curiosity in your voice, like she’s a puzzle you want to figure out. Like she’s not someone who’s already lived too many lives to count.

“You’ve been with the company for a while, right?” You ask, not realizing your proximity is a problem. Sevika noticed but decides against doing anything about it. This was probably the only time she could be this close to you; she will savour it. 

She’ll relish your lavender perfume, the way your dress was snug, accentuating your waist. Your hair had loose curls just the way she liked. Sevika sees the curve of your smile and the sight of your dimples, making her stomach twist in a way it hasn’t in years.

“Longer than you’ve been drinking,” she says dryly.

You make a face, “Ouch. Was that a dig at me?”

“A warning,” she mutters. “You need to be careful talking to me like this.”

You blink. The teasing fades, confusion creeping in its place. “Like what?”

Sevika exhales slowly, jaw tightening. You’re not doing anything wrong. She knows that, and it’s not like she’s acted on anything. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re looking at her like she’s just some stranger at a bar, and not someone who knows exactly where you sit in the company hierarchy. She knows how good you are with people. How you brought tea to the receptionist when she was sick and found a sincere compliment for everyone you walked passed. You have no idea what you’re doing to her. 

“I’m your boss’s boss,” she plainly states, each word like it’s being dragged from her throat. “It’s… inappropriate.”

You tilt your head, lips pressed together like you’re trying to decipher the true meaning behind her words. Questioning if this was her sense of humour. 

Except, she wasn’t joking. 

She’s trying not to fall.

“Oh.” You responded after a moment. Then, gentler, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

She knows. Of course you didn’t. You’re just the young, sweet and friendly new hire at work.

“I know,” Sevika acknowledges, looking back down at her glass. “Doesn’t mean I don’t.”

Your brows furrow. She can see the puzzle pieces trying to fit together behind your eyes, but she won’t give you enough to complete the picture. She can’t. It’s not right. 

She’s not right.

Still, you don’t leave. That’s the part that gets her. 

You were supposed to leave. Yet, you stayed and ordered another drink. Sipping it slowly, feet swinging just barely above the ground from your seat. Instead, you talk about a project you were assigned to, about how cold the office gets, so you have to bring an extra cardigan, and about a stupid joke someone made in the elevator today. Sevika simply listens, occasionally grunting in acknowledgement, but not letting herself relax. Not until the end, when your glass is empty and your eyes linger on her a little longer than they should. You slide off the stool and turn to her. “You know,” thinking of your words carefully, “I was going to ask if you wanted to get coffee sometime.”

Sevika looks at you, sharp and still. Her heart clenches. She shouldn’t. 

You smile - not flirty, not even expectant. Just… warmth.

“But maybe I’ll let you ask,” you add. “When it’s appropriate.”

And with that, you walk off and find your colleagues that you were meant to drive home for the night. Only to leave Sevika alone at the bar, heart pounding against ribs that suddenly feel too small. 

Sevika doesn’t sleep that night. She tells herself it’s the whiskey. Maybe she left the bar too late, or something she ate didn’t sit right. But deep down, she knows it’s you. It could only be you. The memory of you - your smile, the way your voice dipped low when you said you’d let her ask, like it was some kind of permission. 

And maybe it was.

She tosses and turns, constantly catching a glimpse of her phone, debating whether or not she should go for it. In the end, she decides against it.

Three days pass. She sees you once, she was stuck in a morning meeting while you were on the other side of the glass, sitting at your desk with headphones in, eyes narrowing at the screen in front of you like the rest of the world didn’t exist. You don’t notice her looking at you. Maybe it was for the best. She’s done many things in life that toe the line, but this? This was where she drew the line. 

Friday hits, and Sevika’s in her office after hours, finalizing details of a new deal. The building was quiet, there was a stillness as the cleaning staff hadn’t even made it to this floor yet. Her phone buzzes. A calendar reminder she never turned off. 

Coffee with HR, 4 pm - cancelled.

And for some reason, that’s what does it.

She picks up her phone, thumb hesitating over your name. You’re saved in her contacts as just your first name - no emoji, no last initial, no indication of what you mean to her beyond professionalism. 

It takes three drafts. Finally, she sends a simple message.

You still up for that coffee?

Not bothering to wait for a reply. She locks her screen and throws her phone down, heart hammering like she just pulled the trigger on something she can’t take back.

The coffee shop is quiet. It was one of those corner places where no one wears a uniform, and all the pastries are homemade and slightly burnt. A place she wouldn’t be caught dead in. You were already there, tucked in a booth near the back, hands wrapped around a mug like you’re holding onto something precious. You spot her before she spots you - but not by much. She sees the smile playing on your lips, soft and surprised, and her chest goes tight. She slowly walks over, not wanting to ruin the moment by rushing. 

“Didn’t think you’d come,” you commented, voice low enough to carry.

“Neither did I,” Sevika admits, sliding into the seat across from you. There was a coffee already there, waiting just for her. You offer her half of your muffin without asking. She declines. You expected that.

There’s silence, but it’s not an awkward one. Just… suspended. Like both of you are waiting for the first move that’ll tip the scales.

“Still inappropriate?” You ask, sipping your coffee. 

“Janna, yes,” Sevika mumbled, rubbing a hand down her face. “You have no idea.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So, what changed?”

She looks at you for a long time. Long enough that it starts to weigh on you. Then, she says, “I got tired of pretending it didn’t matter.” 

You blink, the answer catching you off guard. Not because of what she said, but how it was so Sevika. Blunt. Honest. Gruff and vulnerable in the same breath.

“Does it matter?” You questioned.

She doesn’t answer right away. She leans back in the booth, arms crossed, her jaw tight, not with anger, but restraint.

“It shouldn’t,” she finally says. “But it does.”

You nod, eyes on her like you’re searching for something. “I’m not trying to cause trouble.”

“I know.”

“And I’m not a kid.”

“I know that as well.”

Your voice dips quieter, softer. “So maybe we just… have coffee. No expectations. No titles. Just two people who might like each other.”

Sevika huffs a breath, something between a laugh and surrender.

“Dangerous words, kid.”

“I’m not scared of you, Sev.”

That gets her.

She looks at you. Really looks at you - and it hits her all over again how goddamn doomed she is. Because you’re right here, giving her a chance she knows she doesn’t deserve. 

But she wants it anyway, and she’ll do anything to be worthy of you. 

She lifts her coffee and clinks her mug gently against yours. “One coffee.”

You grin. “One for now.”

And she’s fucked. 

She’s smiling now, too. 

It had now become a routine. Not the kind that dulls over time, but the kind that settles into the bones like warmth after a long winter. It started with a shared elevator ride after work. You would wait by Sevika’s office, leaning against the wall with a knowing smile, and Sevika would pretend she hadn’t been watching the clock all day, would grab her coat with forced indifference. 

Then came the walk through the lobby, shoulders brushing, conversations stitched with quiet laughs. The world outside the office felt muted when you two were together. 

Now it was you in her apartment. Sevika would cook most nights. You always insisted on helping, but she would only let you cut the vegetables and keep her company. You two would eat by the window, legs tangled under the table, with the city lights flickering like background music. Later that night, on the couch, Sevika would read while you’d lie across her lap, playing with the hem of her sleeve. There was always a moment, just one, where Sevika would look down at you, and everything in her chest would clench so tightly it almost hurt. A mix of awe and fear. A feeling she hadn’t let herself want in years.

Half asleep and curled against her, you mumbled, “You look at me like I’m going to disappear.” To you, it was simple teasing, but that summed up what Sevika has always thought. 

Sevika didn’t respond. Just stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head like she was trying to promise something, knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep it. 

It all began to unravel slowly.

Sevika found herself staring a little too long when you would laugh with a co-worker. She started pulling away after kisses. She lingered in the kitchen too long and tried to avoid dinner overall. She had snapped, once, over something small, you were late to dinner. Sevika apologized immediately, but it clung to her like guilt.

She was too old for this. Too jaded. Too experienced in the art of being left. You were still young and bright. Sevika loved that about you, but part of her felt like she smudged all that warmth. 

So, one quiet night in her apartment. The kind of quiet that settled deep, only the soft clinking of ice in your glass and the low hum of a jazz record spinning lazily in the background. You were on her couch, legs tucked under you, reading through one of Sevika’s books. You wore an oversized shirt, which hangs off your shoulder, paired with flared leggings. The sight of you wasn’t anything new, but it was still hard for Sevika to believe that this was her reality now. 

Sevika stood by the kitchen counter, leaning her weight on one arm, a half-finished drink in the other hand. Her hair was down tonight, and the sight of it sent something warm and stupid fluttering in your chest. Neither of you had talked much since dinner. Not out of discomfort, just that easy silence you’d started to fall into more and more. She didn’t fill space unless it needed filling, and you… You were getting good at listening to what she didn’t say.

Then, out of nowhere.

“I think you should stop coming here.” 

You flinched from your spot, not sure if you had heard her right. You looked at her from your seat, and she looked just as startled as you were. That quickly went away and was now replaced with a stoic expression. 

“What are you talking about?” You questioned. 

“This,” Sevika forces a steadiness into her voice. “Whatever this is, it’s not going to last. You should be with someone your age. One day, you’re going to wake up and wonder what the hell you were thinking being with me. I’m not going to wait for that.” That last part came out quieter, almost like she regretted saying it the second it left her mouth. 

“Are we really doing this now?” You raised a brow. 

She turns her gaze to where you were sitting. Tired eyes, scarred skin, that permanent weight she carried even when she wasn’t talking about it.

“You’re twenty-five,” she explained, like that was enough to understand. Like that should be the end of it. You stood, putting your book down on the coffee table, walking toward her slowly. “And you’re what? Walking away from this before I even get the chance to prove you wrong? So, I can end up with some clean-shaven corporate guy who has a dog and doesn’t smoke?”

She flinched. Just slightly. 

Sevika didn’t expect you to fight her on this matter. She underestimated how much you want this. She fights the little voice in her head telling her that she shouldn’t continue.

“I’ve seen how people look at us,” she mutters, turning away from you. “Like I’m dragging you down. Like you’re just… playing house until something better comes along.” 

You step back, “Is that what you think of me? That I would use you?” You tilt your head, trying to catch a glimpse of her. Was this really the same person who held you at night? The woman who made sure you got home safe? The one who would look at you like you were the only thing that mattered because you were.

“Do you think of me so lowly?” 

“I’m protecting both of us.” Sevika bit her lip. She knew she was taking the coward’s way out, but if that’s what it took for you to realize that she’s not the woman you want, then so be it.

“You’re not,” you utter. “You don’t even want to try.” The frustration starts to build up, you run a hand through your hair, not believing what you’re hearing. There was a long pause, raw and aching.

“I’m not worth the fight for you… Am I?”

Sevika wanted to say yes. She wanted nothing more than to declare you’re everything to her. That this could work out between you two. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

After a moment of processing, a realization that this is the path she wants for you. You gathered your things and left. You didn’t slam the door. There were no tears in your eyes, not yet at least. You simply walked out quietly, you knew that trying to stay would only make it worse. 

Weeks have gone by.

Sevika went home alone. No one sang in the car or made fun of her ‘old people’ music. She cooked for one. Nobody was there to help her with the dishes. She read books that didn’t hold her attention. Not a single soul was there to play with her hair and ask a million questions about her day. The apartment had grown too cold. 

You two would still see each other in the office. You would pass by her, being the cordial and polite person you were, you would smile, but it didn’t meet your eyes. Sevika started avoiding you, purposely leaving early or staying as late as possible because anything was better than seeing you in pain. 

She’d lie awake at night, gripping what was once your side of the bed. She swears it still smells like you. Sometimes she’d reach over, pathetically, like muscle memory hadn’t caught up to heartbreak. 

The worst part was the silence. She missed your laugh because she completely missed the joke you made. The way you tried to speak Hindi, even though your pronunciation wasn’t the greatest, it was the fact that you tried. The way you looked at her like she was something good. 

It was late one night when Sevika broke. 

She stood outside your door, her heart thudding out of her chest like it had something to say before she did. She hesitated; it wasn’t fair that she was crawling back to you for something she broke off. She was a coward. About to turn back, the door swings open, and Sevika looks up to see you. 

You didn’t look surprised to see her. Just tired. 

Tired and lovely, and still hers, in some unspoken way.

Sevika cleared her throat, trying to gain some control of herself. “I was wrong. I got scared and in the end I’m the one that hurt you.”

You said nothing, but instead observed her. You watched the way her breath catches up to her. Her fingers fidgeted on her sides, trying to grab something but falling short. 

“I still think you deserve better than me,” Sevika went on. “But I also know that I’ve never wanted someone this much in my life.”

A pause.

“I miss you,” she whispered.

You studied her for a long moment. Then, with a soft sigh, you step aside and open the door wider. And there it was. The same doe eyes looking at her, the day she gave you directions. The soft smile playing on your lips. 

And this time, Sevika walks in. No fear and not one doubt in her mind.

Just hope.

[prettydaisygirl]

after reading your fratjames potter x reader work it did something for me! And it made me think of angsty idea

May I request a modern au where the reader and James are already in an established relationship ship

And because of a bad friend of James they have misunderstanding and some incident happen and reader happens to be present at the wrong time and because of that the bad friend spread misinfo and James believe that friend ....so it kinda leads to James hurting readers feelings

Pls feel free to ignore if i couldn't get my idea across ❤️

Hi, lovely! Thank you so much for your request! It also spawned another idea in my brain so there's another James fic coming soon also inspired by you! I hope this is what you were looking for, I appreciate you taking the time to send me a request. Much love <3

boyfriend!James Potter x fem!reader who disagree about Peter ✿ 927 words

cw: fem reader, Peter is the worst, misunderstanding, angst, open ended.

james potter masterlist

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part 2

You really, really try to like Peter. He’s the only member of James’ group that you don’t consider a good friend. 

It’s not that you think Peter is a bad person. But sometimes he says things about people that you think are… harsh. Sometimes even cruel. And usually these things are said behind the targeted person’s back. You don’t like that.

Every time you bring it up to James, voice whispered and hesitant so you don’t rock the boat, he tells you that he and the other boys have just learned not to listen to Peter’s cruel words. 

“But how can you just… let him sit there and say things like that?” You’ll argue, though your tone is soft and your fingers will brush over his chest like they belong there. Because they do.

James will take a heavy breath and meet your eyes, barely able to see the glint of your pupils in the darkness of the bedroom. “After a while… you start to realize that the things that Peter says are true.” Silence will fill the air for just a moment and then, “He usually just says a meaner version of what everyone else is already thinking.”

So you put on a smile, and you tolerate Peter. 

You sip your glass of wine, eyes moving over the restaurant’s fancy decor. The tall ceilings and shimmering chandeliers do nothing to aid the awkward silence at the dinner table. 

For whatever reason, James had agreed for the two of you to go on a double date with Peter and his new girlfriend. She sits across from you, typing away on her phone without a care in the world. James had just stood up to go to the bathroom, leaving you and Peter in awkward, tense silence. 

Your eyes land on Peter when he clears his throat, a smirk appearing on his lips. You hate the way it makes your skin crawl. 

“Don’t you think James is a bit obnoxious?” He asks, and you’re sure anyone else would laugh out loud at the face you make. 

“What?” You ask, disbelief and offense dripping in your tone, “Of course, I don’t!”

Peter’s eyebrows raise and the corner of his lip turns up even more like you said exactly what he wanted to hear. His girlfriend’s eyes raise up from her phone long enough to look between the two of you before lowering again. 

“Oh, come on,” Peter encourages cruelly, “You don’t really buy that whole teddy bear, lover-boy act, do you?” His eyes roll, “I’ve known James for years, and it’s always the same. He finds a girl he really likes, absolutely fawns over her until he gets bored, and then he finds another one. Simple as that.”

Your stomach churns, your ears ring and you’re sure if looks could kill Peter would already be six feet under. “That’s not true.”

“It is, and you know it.” Peter tilts his head condescendingly and you wish you’d pretended to be sick instead of coming to this stupid dinner. “He’s going to find someone new and leave you in the dust. Like clockwork.”

“Stop.” You try not to let his words get to you but he seems to know every single soft spot in your armor. Your worst fears that you’ve never even spoken out loud to James himself. 

“It’s only a matter of time,” Peter continues, swirling his own glass of wine before taking a long sip. “It could be tonight. Maybe one of the wait staff will catch his eye.”

“Listen, Peter,” You break, eyes dialed in on the man sitting across from you. If you can call him a man. More like a rat. “I have always thought you were cruel and disgusting. You invited us to dinner, and I came because James asked me to. But I won’t do this anymore. You’re an absolute weasel of a man and I hate you.”

But Peter doesn’t look upset by your words. In fact, he looks delighted, almost like a happy schoolboy. You realize why when you hear James’ voice behind you, your name stated in a cracking tone full of disbelief and hurt.  

You turn in your chair to look at him, guilt taking over your features. 

“James-” You try to say, the hurt look on his face making your chest physically ache.

“How can you speak to one of my friends like that?” He asks, eyes dark and voice low. He doesn’t sit back down at your table. “I know you don’t like Peter, but calling him names and saying you hate him? That’s cruel.”

You can feel your world crumbling around you, and Peter doesn’t even bother hiding his glee. In fact, it radiates off of him. His girlfriend looks like she’s enjoying the show now, phone in her lap. 

“I don’t know what has gotten into you lately, why you are so hateful and full of anger.” James grabs for his jacket and you reach for it too. He shoots you a look and you pull your hand away, feeling utterly shamed and scolded. You want to tell him that this is all a misunderstanding, that if he heard the things Peter said about him, he would agree with you. 

But you can’t. Because Peter is standing then, too, and so is his girlfriend. James sends you a look, and when he leans down to kiss you he only presses a chaste one to your hair, not one to your lips like usual.

“I’ll call you.” He says. 

And you wonder if he ever will. 

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© prettydaisygirl