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2kmps · 8 months

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BAD HABIT

hitman!tōji fushiguro x reader | 17k

story summary; tōji wasn't expecting to find himself in the stairwell of an apartment complex after a hit went bad. you weren't expecting to take care of a handsome, wounded man in your bathroom. it was perfect alignment for very bad things to happen, especially once he started getting cozy on your couch and refused to leave. neither of you expected feelings to intertwine. for tōji, it was a waste of time; for you, it'd get in the way of caring for your young nephew. there's a steep price for loving a man like him.

story warnings; dark content, hitman!au, there is a plot, tōji is tōji 💀, implications of past negligence, tōji smokes, gunshot wound, descriptions of wounds, some graphic details, mc is a stand-in guardian for their nephew, mc makes bad choices but tries their best, parental abandonment, mention of institutionalization, tōji hittin' it from behind, implied stalking, guilt tripping, depression, tons of sex, prose + detail heavy, unpleasant names used (bitch, psycho, whore). dividers are used to break up scenes.

thank you, @ceruleansol for the wonderful proofreading. you're always a joy to work with 🩷

read the warnings above. events in this story are not indicative of personal viewpoints. mdni!!

if you enjoyed this piece, please reblog it!!

"Hey. There's a dead guy in the stairwell."

At first, there had been silence when Tōji walked in through a mangled-up door. He wasn't thinking about where it would lead him, only that it was pockmarked all over with indentations from someone's knuckles—a long history of them. He had put his fist into doors like that before. They weren't built as solidly as they used to be and collapsed with enough force.

He realized then, with some wrench of disgust, that the dents resembled the craters in skin. Those deep ones that some of his brokers had—ugly little men who sweat too much and smelled as bad as they looked. The sight of it no longer enchanted him, taking him from his trance to walk inside and look around.

Where he stood was lit dimly yellow, a sort of throwback to all of the sleazy hostels he had afforded a night or two in. A second or two later, contemplating it more as he backed himself into a wall and sunk down the length of it until his bottom hit the floor and knees split open, this murky lighting was just like all those backrooms where he made all his deals.

Another look around—he saw a staircase descending into darkness. The shift from hazy yellow to complete black was not a perfect gradient. The air just simply turned inky. Above him, more staircases climbed into a dark oblivion, perhaps even more ominous than the one that led down.

With spotting a couple of doors on the upper floors, numbers embellished into metal plaques that had lost their luster a long time ago, tarnished with speckles of rust as though water had sat on its face too long, he understood he had wandered into an apartment complex.

"This is fucking embarrassing." His voice reverberated back at him. It sounded as lonely as it did bitter. "Guess that's what I get for pissing off that slimebag."

Tōji had antagonized the wrong man this time, a hit gone awry. The order had been received in the backroom of some dirty bar in Shibuya. After catching an eyeful of some women nursing cheap drinks, some men crowding the billiards table while dropping yen into their pockets, he had made it through to the back at the end of a long hallway.

Whoever was hiring for this kill was too much of a coward to show his face and sent some shifty-looking guys in black suits to conduct business instead. One was broad-shouldered, bald, and wore blackout sunglasses in a scarcely lit room, while the other was a scrawny bastard with bleached hair put into cornrows. It wasn't a good look.

Either way, they said a few words—asking him who he was and who was sponsoring him before being handed a crisp envelope ready to burst at the edges.

With half the money in his hands, he didn't give a shit about any of the other details. He got a name, Morimoto Kazuma, and a couple of rendezvous spots to stake out.

He walked out while they were still talking, and now, after the fact, Tōji conceded they probably had something valuable to say. Because that sweaty jackass ended up coming with an entire army ready to grovel and suck his dick when he snapped his fingers.

What a joke. I can't believe that piece of shit managed to catch me off-guard. Now, Tōji was on the run, sitting in some decrepit stairwell with black and purple blooming beneath his clothes. He cradled thick fingers over his side, blood oozing through every crevice of his hand, filling the seams of his fingernails.

That was when he heard it—a kid's voice stirring life into the ghostly stairwell like the blare of a car horn. It was sharp and sudden, jolting him to attention, dark eyes tracking down the sound of it.

The brat was seven or eight at best, probably around the same age as—

Shit, what was his name? I keep forgetting. Hiromi? Kenji? Yuki? Nah, none of those sound right.

"Oh"—the kid frowned, tongue tutting as though disappointed by Tōji's movements—"never mind! He's not dead! He's just some bum sleeping in the stairwell!"

"Hey, who are you talking about?" Tōji still had enough left in him to put a kid six feet under. It wouldn't be the first time. "Little shit."

Heavier footfalls echoed around him, obliterating whatever semblance of quiet there once had been. Your feet moved hastily down the steps, body winding tight against the railing, hands pulling up flakes of black paint that had come loose with decay.

Tōji only looked at you once you slowed, coming to a stop on the same stair as the kid for a pulse before descending the rest of the way down to his side.

Maybe it was just the blood loss or the fact he hadn't eaten or slept in three days, but you were a sight for sore eyes. The air around him turned cold, a breeze sweeping his bangs around his face as the scent of you wafted under his nostrils.

He liked the way you smelled.

"You've had a rough go, haven't you? Holy shit—" You had scoured his body fast, suddenly keen to the crimson leaking through his fingers. His black shirt had adhered to the wound at that point, doing some little part in stifling the worst of his bleeding. "You need a hospital. You need an ambulance. Hinata, call an ambul—"

Tōji pulled you back to the floor when you tried to get up, large fist wound tight in your clothes. "No. I don't need a hospital. I need a bathroom, some antiseptic, and some food."

You sat back down to pry his dirty fingers off of your ironed blouse, surprising him by your agreeability when you lifted his armpit on your shoulder, waving down Hinata to come assist you.

"We don't need the neighbors calling the police," you said.

"I don't want to be late for school again." Hinata was two steps from the landing, palms wringing his backpack straps.

You sighed. "I'll buy you ice cream."

Tōji watched him lean his head a little to the left, just like a dog attuned to particular trigger words. Had it not been for the gaping hole nestled in his ribs and a surge of hard static filling the inside of his head, it might've been cute.

"I want cheesecake."

It was non-negotiable.

Your back teeth clicked anxiously, unprepared for the attempted bribery to go awry as it had. In the end, you agreed to get him what he wanted while gesturing viciously for him to take Tōji's other side.

There wasn't a lot an eight-year-old could do except use what little weight was in his body to push against Tōji's back. Hinata was average sized, teetering on bigger than his peers, so that leverage propelling Tōji forward kept him from stumbling back down to the beginning when his hand slipped on the crumbly railing a time or two.

"The bathroom is just over here." You grunted, barely able to keep yourself upright with the bulk of Tōji's weight now on you. He walked his palm along the adjacent wall as though it did something to help.

It was better than admitting he was at the mercy of some nobodies in their apartment.

"Hinata! Antiseptic!" you bellowed.

The front door shut and small feet shuffled across wood, a muffled thump, thump, thump following his motions until he appeared behind you with a frosted plastic bottle. "Antiseptic! Can I watch?"

You took the bottle, told him no and he obeyed, staying on the other side of the door that you nudged with your toes. Soon, Tōji was situated on the toilet seat. "Can you take off your shirt?"

He thought about making a comment; you had a nice face, so you probably looked good even when your expression twisted all around. But, instead, he followed your order and let you help slowly peel the second skin off of him. The black fabric had been so tight, gripping to sweat in every curvature, especially to where blood had seeped through and stuck to him like wet paper.

"Just about, just about"—your teeth were on show, gnashing until balls of lint were stragglers amongst a faint tint of red—"okay good. We got it."

He took a breath and picked up a pair of tweezers you had next to the sink. "Mind if I use these?"

Your teeth were dry behind your lips, licking them came naturally. "Is there something inside? Glass?"

"A bullet." Tōji smiled when you winced. "Make me feel better later. You should step out if you don't want to see this."

"I do!" Hinata cried, using his head to push the crack in the door wider. "You got shot?! What did you do? I wanna see!"

A surge of heat shot to your face, amazed by his lack of tact. All it took was a couple of flicks to his forehead and the door was slammed shut by the full force of your foot. "You're getting a day off from school and cheesecake. Chill out."

"Ugh!" he whined, weight folding against the paper-thin door. For a second, you thought it might actually collapse.

Tōji had ignored the exchange between the pair of you, background noise he found somewhat soothing in that moment. The bullet hadn't struck anything vital; that much was obvious from the fact he was alive and not spurting a geyser of rust red everywhere or vomiting it. It still went deep.

"How did you get shot?" You were coming at him with an old hand towel, fingers covered as you held it flush below the hole in his body. It wept blood and something viscous and tinged yellow. "I really think you need to get this looked at."

He kept reaching, face unflinching. "Nah."

After several minutes, the bullet was extracted and abandoned in the sink along with your tweezers. It left splatter against the white porcelain, reaching the drab beige backsplash behind the faucet and rectangular mirror just above that. You didn't want to think about cleaning it up later.

"Shouldn't you get stitches?" You weren't dissuaded yet, keeping the towel secured until it felt heavy and damp.

Tōji didn't like how much you were nagging, but this beat rotting away in a stairwell. "You got a sewing kit?"

"Wha—well, yeah," you hesitated, calling out for Hinata to get supplies from the utility cupboard in the kitchen. His bare feet padded away and returned in seconds; the door pushed ajar so he could wedge the convenience store kit through the slim gap.

"Cheesecake?" Hinata whispered into the slot, arranging his face against it so one of his eyes could peer inside. "Cheeeeeeesecake?"

Tōji took the kit from your hands, digging through it for the largest needle. "Hey, kid, you got any fishing line?"

You stared blankly. "Fishing line? No, he wouldn't—"

"Yeah! I do!" Hinata thrust himself away from the door with his arms, feet stomping all the way across the apartment to his bedroom where a greater commotion made you flinch. You were sure he was turning over totes of things in his closet, ripping them open, and spilling them out onto the floor.

It wasn't something you needed to worry about because Hinata was an impressively self-sufficient child; he liked to keep his space tidy and organized. When he was six, he had already started arranging his dinosaurs and animal toys by species. When he started school, he tucked away everything on his little desk so he could lay out his workbooks and pencils.

"He's pretty handy." Tōji said, impressed, when Hinata trotted back in. He steadied against your shoulders, hand outstretched with a spool of translucent thread that Tōji took and fixed through the eye of his needle.

He tied it off at the end, stopping short of piercing through layers of skin and subcutaneous tissue. You and the kid were observing with quiet anticipation, the whites of your eyes showing, breaths paced.

Tōji didn't think it was possible to be self-conscious, but now he felt the need to draw the shower curtain over himself.

"Weren't you getting cheesecake or something?"

Hinata used you as a launch pad and bounced upright, small fists bunched into the back of your shirt. "Yeah! You promised! I've been helping out all morning!"

"Oh my god, you're so impatient," you drawled, flicking him on the forehead again. "This is why your dad dumped you here with me and took off."

"Well," he said and puffed up, chest and cheeks inflating as he backed out the doorway, "Dad said he almost left me with Grandma and Grandpa because you have bad taste in men!"

He swiveled on his toes and sprinted away before a roll of toilet paper made contact. You had half the mind to chase him all the way into the streets, but you were already nursing a flush of heat in your face and neck when you noticed Tōji leering at you.

"Cute kid." He said, needle unsullied.

You tucked your lower lip inside your mouth, slowly letting it roll back out moistened. "I'll just—I'll just go. Do you want cheesecake?"

His shoulders sank forward, elbows perched across his knees. "Nah. I want real food. You got anything?"

"If instant noodles and fried cabbage are your thing." You expected the weird look he gave you. It wasn't the most orthodox combination to have sitting around, stinking up your fridge. "I work two jobs. I just haven't had the time to go lately. I usually just give Hinata money to grab what he wants from the convenience…"

Tōji twirled the needle between pinched fingers, dark eyes that same kind of lackluster Hinata's got when he had stopped listening to what you were saying.

"Anyway"—you got to your feet and pretended to dust off your knees—"it’s there if you want it."

"I'll take it."

A lull drifted in between you and Tōji. He had nothing else to say to you; meanwhile you were taking in the sight of everything for the first time. One thing you had always lacked in life was a sense of discernment, a simple wiring in your brain to know what to prioritize and what would inevitably put you in a corner. It made more sense to be on your toes, to act first, think as you go, try to haggle with repercussions later.

You still did it, even now, as an adult thrust into the workforce, and bills, and taxes, and looking after a kid who could already do arithmetic well beyond his age group.

A man was bleeding at the bottom of the stairs, and now he was waiting for you to leave so he could stitch shut a gunshot wound. Knowing that you had made a grave mistake by bringing him into your home—with a mouthy boy—was obvious, but now what were you supposed to do to rectify it?

"When you're finished doing that," you said, motioning to the oozing hole next to his ribs when he looked up, "It'd be best if you left."

Tōji didn't feel any conviction behind your words. There was an inexplicable attraction, like gravity pulling you towards him because you were curious—because he was something different, something fresh, something you hadn't seen before.

Life with kids meant getting swept into the endless cycle of mundane and menial things that always aged people faster. Tōji, in these moments, felt grateful he had gotten out of that mess before those kids—shit, he still couldn't remember their names—turned any of his hair gray.

You were ensnared, and all it had taken was a bleeding on your bathroom floor a little bit.

"You want me to leave?" Tōji smoothed two fingers along the length of the fishing line, tip of his tongue peeking out his lips. "Sure. I'll do that."

━━━━━━━━━━━

The whole of two weeks might as well have been consolidated into two days because you felt like you hadn't been able to take a breath. Between the demands of your jobs, and the tribulations following a school-age boy through life, you didn't have the energy to constantly confront Tōji about still being camped out on your living room furniture weeks later.

He rotated through an unpredictable schedule that had him asleep on your couch at odd hours and ambling out the front door right when you put Hinata to bed.

Some days he was a set fixture in your apartment, a lamppost equivalent meant to decorate the space between two seats—except for your couch. Other days, it felt like he had never been there to begin with, a figment you had dreamt of to take up space so you'd feel less alone.

"If you're going to stay here, you need to chip in with chores." It was a reasonable request, and Tōji must've thought so too in spite of a disdainful curl in his lip because he took the mop handle you shoved at him. "Hinata already does a lot because I'm always busy. Earn your keep."

That sort of talk went over two ways with Tōji—either he complied because it kept you from nagging him, and in turn, you'd pick up the odds and ends he asked for, or he tried flirting with you and pouted around all day when he'd be shot down.

"You need to find somewhere else to go, Tōji." At any chance you got, you'd remind him that his time in your home was short-lived, a blessed respite from whatever brought him to you in the first place. "I'm serious. You can't just keep hanging out on my couch. You're gonna make it sag."

He let his head loll sideways, arms sprawled out over the back of it. You were behind him, pinned by his eyes when he lifted his face to see you.

"You have a big enough bed to share." His smile was salacious, cheeky, even, but you doubted there was any real intent there. "It helps having me around to look after the place, right? It's not like I make it into a pigsty."

For how boorish Tōji turned out to be, you would give him the credit that he didn't dirty up things very much. Your bathroom had been an isolated incident, and one evening within the past two weeks, he left a few beer cans on the floor that Hinata picked up for recycling.

His only other offense was hovering like a vulture on the nights you'd cook dinner.

"Can't you make him leave? I want to watch cartoons but he's always hogging the remote." Hinata was telling you during an outing on one of your scarce weekends off. "He watches stupid stuff, too."

You sighed, scraping frosting from your slice of cake. It was a nice afternoon out with your nephew at a cafe some blocks from the apartment. A mellow breeze caressed the back of your neck, whipped around the hair over Hinata's eyes, and weaved through trees nearby, making the leaves whisper and tremble.

It was all beautiful, yet both of you were stuck on Tōji being a wedge in your lives.

"Why won't he leave?" Hinata tried again, fork plowing through thick layers of his strawberry cake. "Have you actually tried?"

You believed that if Hinata were ever tested, he'd probably qualify as a genius—or gifted, at the very least. His mother had been that way too, once, in her moments of clarity: smart and quick, eager to find patterns and problem-solve.

He was everything that his father and your entire side of the family never quite was.

It was hard, sometimes, to keep it in your mind that he was only eight. No matter where he was developmentally, he was still a child and still saw the world through the lens of one—not an adult, not a genius, not a boy with wisdom beyond his years—

A child.

This entire ordeal with Tōji was proof of that. It was hard enough for you to process on your own, let alone explain the complexities of it to an eight-year-old whom you asked to do basic addition and subtraction for you at the grocery store.

All he saw was a bulky, mean man who wouldn't let him watch cartoons—not the intricacies behind why that man had to pull a bullet out of his own body instead of getting help at a hospital.

"I think he's hiding." Hinata surprised you with that comment, teeth bearing down as he smiled around his fork. "I think that's pretty cool. He's like a secret agent or something."

It was an obvious angle. You weren't sure why you hadn't considered it before. "Why do you think he's hiding?"

"Well"—Hinata pulled a piece of his own hair from the next forkful he grabbed. He pocketed the cake in his cheek—"he’s super secretive and if you ask him about stuff, he'll act like he doesn't hear you. Sometimes, I get up in the middle of the night for some water, and he's leaving or standing in the kitchen eating."

You rolled a glazed strawberry to one side of your plate. "It is kinda weird, isn't it?"

"Really weird." Hinata nodded. "Do you think he's a bad guy? Do you think he's part of a gang?"

The one time you had seen Tōji's chest to help cover his wound, there had been no tattoos. It'd be lying if you said you hadn't tried grabbing eyefuls of him when you could. How often was it that you got to see something like that?

"I think we can rule out a gang." Your certainty seemed to reinvigorate Hinata as he slumped into his chair and took more eager bites from his dessert. "He doesn't really have the look or attitude. Whatever he does, I think it's solo."

"Oh, so like a hitman!" Hinata said.

Your utensil went cold as it lay abandoned next to the slice of cake you had barely carved a dent into. This was all some pretty heavy stuff you were discussing with a kid, but the insight he was giving you wouldn't have crossed your mind otherwise.

Tōji was a strange man—strange in ways that made you uneasy, made you wonder whether it'd be worth sticking Hinata into some extracurriculars, lodge him up with friends during longer shifts. That would be ideal, albeit unfair to him.

Hinata liked to play with his own toys, sleep in his own bed, and do things on his terms without your intervention into everything. He'd always been that way.

Some part of you felt so sure that Tōji, whoever he actually was, wouldn't dream of putting a hand on a child he playfully bullied with a television remote.

A week later, that conversation with Hinata still replayed in your mind while lapping your way through a tall can of beer. The door leading onto the balcony was wide, letting the brisk night air gush in, kept within earshot of the happenings inside. It was all muffled television chatter from a show Tōji had grown partial to and an occasional slosh of bathwater from Hinata capsizing ships because he was a kraken tonight.

Your apartment was on the sixth floor, a good spot just above the tree lines, so when you looked out, a glittering nightscape awaited with stuttering neon signage and warm light falling out like slanted pillars from buildings with windows. The tops of trees were thick, black silhouettes dancing fluidly with the wind, and you could hear sounds drift along with it as though ghosts whispered around you.

"Hey." Tōji's voice came with the acrid punch of smoke swirling under your nose. The wind took the smell away as fast as it had come, but you were already alert to him stepping out barefoot onto the balcony with you, the door sliding shut. "You've been out here forever. It's never a good sign if someone's thinking that deep about something."

You took a swig from your beer. "Keeping tabs on me now?"

Tōji had hijacked one from your supply as well, despite all the times you had told him not to. He pulled the tab and let it froth up. "Nope. I kept asking you to get me a beer, but you didn't hear me. Figured I'd see what was holding you up."

Your tongue probed along the back of your teeth in an act of restraint. Tōji was the type that got off on purposely antagonizing you just to see your reaction. He baited you with comments like that in his inflectionless drone—it drove you up the walls.

"How's that gunshot wound?" you challenged. "Healed up enough for you to find your own place soon?"

Tōji's eyes caught the shine off of the white fluorescent kitchen light spearing out through the glass doors, but they were still so dark—abysmal, almost. Two of his fingers were positioned weirdly around a cigarette, pinched like he didn't want the smell to seep into his skin. He kept his fist tight on that beer can.

"Still hurts like a bitch." He gave you an oily smile, a look that fit his face. "You gonna kick out a man still on the mend? That's pretty heartless."

It amazed you that he could unleash clapbacks like that without pause like he had memorized them from a book cover to cover and could recall them on command.

On rare occasions, you could do that too, be dealt a nasty comment about your child-rearing techniques from quiet tongues and sling back venom that was equally as unkind. With Tōji, on the other hand, you never could quite meet him in the middle—you'd sting with a rubber band, and he'd bring out a hammer and make you flinch.

That was how he kept getting away with using your beer to wash away the taste of smoke sticking to the roof of his mouth, how he still commandeered your living room and pantry—

You gave in.

He didn't take you seriously.

"I didn't know you smoked." Gray wisps and bright orange flickers sat right outside the corner of your eye, a good opportunity to change the topic. "Just don't do it inside."

"Yeah, yeah." Tōji's agitation was expelled with the smoke from his lungs. Despite how dark it was on the balcony, you saw the peaks of his chest sink inward as though he had been holding that breath for a while and finally needed to let it out.

Just then, he flipped the cigarette around with more of the brown filter exposed to you. He flicked ashes onto the floor. They dropped near his feet. "Here. You'd benefit from a few smokes with how uptight you are."

He wasn't holding it out to you like he wanted you to take it. You realized he was waiting for you to take a puff from his fingers, put your mouth over whatever he'd left behind.

"I'm good. I have my vice." Beer raised, you forced a smile.

Tōji pressed his lips back around the cigarette and shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Men like Tōji were plenty in the world, used to getting their way, relentless until they did. You knew this because you had already lived it before many times.

Bottom of the barrel, selfish men only looking out for their own interests. They came to you, not unlike gods descending to earth for those sad, wretched, and dying souls wanting to cling onto the fine fabric of anyone who'd save them.

You were desperate to be whisked away from the repetitious everyday grind. Their independence was revolutionary, eccentrism enticing like a starving rat lured to food molded around poison. You believed you could love them out of their egotism, and they'd give you the world because they had promised it.

But, in the end, you could bleed out on the floor while they watched red seep into grout in tile, and they would still demand more from you until your insides were dry and hollow and you were a husk.

"So, what's the story with the kid—"

"Hinata." you corrected him.

Tōji knocked ashes off over the railing. "Sure. What's the story there? He isn't yours, right?"

For a moment, you contemplated whether it was worth dredging up the past like that, especially with your audience of one being Tōji.

He had never cared before, so why now?

"My brother's kid." You said.

There was nothing better going on.

He seemed to want conversation.

Might as well.

"He showed up here one day, all dressed up in a suit with a briefcase. He said he had been promoted to an office overseas, and he couldn't afford to take Hinata with him.

"I don't know how much of it was actually because of that new job, and how much of it was to actually escape his family. Sometimes, people are willing to abandon everything to get away. He had been really good about sending money to me to help out with Hinata—in the beginning."

Tōji was hunkered down against the railing, his hulking size crunched sideways on one arm, cigarette snuffed on chipped paint. "Isn't that how it always goes?"

"Yeah, I guess"—you put your back to the railing and leaned hard—"that money was basically extra. All I had to do was work my regular job, make sure Hinata did okay, and that was it. My brother even made a point to talk to Hinata on the phone almost every night for a couple of months.

"Hinata had just turned six. He was already picking up after himself, getting dressed, making sandwiches when I'd sleep in. He was basically raising himself. I just had to handle the adult stuff." You continued, "I started wondering why a kid his age could already do all those things. Where was his mother? Why didn't he go to his grandparents instead? My life is shit; why is my brother forcing his young kid on me?"

Tōji wasn't looking at you anymore, but unlike other times, you could tell with how he paced his drinks that he was still tuned into the story. That felt good.

"The money stopped coming in about six months after I took over as Hinata's guardian. My brother stopped calling him around that time, too. I haven't been able to get in contact with him at all—phone, video calls, text, email, socials, our parents, his friends—nothing. He just… poof."

"He hardly looks bothered by it." Tōji meant Hinata, about how aloof he appeared to be to something that big looming over your lives.

You agreed. "He stopped asking about his dad a year ago. Hinata's a really smart kid, I think he knows—"

"—Dad's not coming home," Tōji finished for you. "Where's Mom during all of this? She dead or something?"

This time, you shrugged. "Last I heard, she was institutionalized somewhere. I think it started out as postpartum depression that just spiraled out of control after ignoring it for years. I don't know what the final straw was that put her in there, but I do know that Hinata does not speak about her."

Tōji had his cheek in hand. "Ah, another psycho bitch out traumatizing kids."

You didn't like how he said it but let the lukewarm bitterness from your beer settle on your tongue. "I wish her the best. It isn't easy."

"Right." He was staring at you now, a suggestive sort of look crawling up along his face. The sight of it made your stomach bunch and flutter, giving you the need to shuffle your feet around, tighten that area between your thighs to ease how much it ached. "Got any questions for me?"

"Do you have kids?" Clearly, it wasn't what he had anticipated you asking because it cleaned the expression right off his face. "The way you handle Hinata isn't the same as some other guys I've met. You have experience, don't you?"

Tōji settled back into an easygoing smile, confirmation enough.

"How old are they? What are their names?"

"He's around eight, maybe nine now. Lives with his mom outside Tokyo." If it hadn't been for him standing at full height and coming closer, you might have pressed for more. "I had a stepdaughter, but that's a mess I don't feel like getting into."

You considered widening the gap again, a wordless declaration to keep things cordial, appropriate for the sensitive situation he was in. He exuded more than an average man's mediocre confidence—this was power from knowing he had influence over you, having caught your eyes on him a few too many times lately for it to be a coincidence.

Tōji saw your longing and your discomfort sitting with it, a part of yourself you tried to deny for the sake of giving Hinata a good life—a better life than you had led for yourself up to that point. That was the thing about kids: It was no longer just about you and it never would be again. Some people couldn't reconcile that reality.

"Wait, Tōji." You couldn't look at him, the intensity of his eyes simultaneously too much to bear and electrifying. He was setting you on fire like a match to flame. "This isn't a good idea."

He had leaned down to your face, head stooped between his shoulders, lips so achingly near it would be nothing to drag him in. Hot air stirred across your skin, dampening it and smelling of stale smoke.

"So, what?" he said, echoing your thoughts aloud. "Push me away if you don't want it."

You didn't know if you wanted to be ravished by him or to assert yourself and shove him out of your space. One would lead to the ideal outcome, a solid boundary that let him know his place, but the other was what you really had your heart set on. You missed being wanted by someone.

Hinata made the decision for you by throwing open the sliding door so hard it rattled, dressed in clean nightclothes with a towel draped over his wet hair like a massive hood. That motivated Tōji to glance over, but he wasn't out of your face.

"You're not allowed to do that." Hinata said, brown eyes made smaller by a heavy brow and accusatory glare.

Tōji almost grinned. "Oh, yeah? Says who?"

Hinata stomped his foot and blurted, "The police! Kissing is illegal." He, of course, withered at the ridiculousness of his words after the fact.

"Wow." Tōji whistled, loud and slow. "That's a new one to me. You sure you're not just being a brat?"

Hinata simply bunched up his face while tossing his short hair with the towel, pieces of it defying gravity once he was finished.

He wasn't looking at Tōji anymore.

"I set three alarms for you tomorrow because I don't want to be late for school." This was a normal thing with him. Once, he had set six just to make sure you had no hope of getting that extra fifteen minutes. "I packed myself some curry for lunch. Can I get strawberry milk at the store tomorrow?"

He could ask you for water melted from the snowcaps of Mt. Fuji, and you would let your fingers turn frostbitten and black to get it for him.

"I'll think about it. I don't need the dentist to ask me why you're eight with a bunch of cavities."

Hinata spit through tightly cinched, vibrating lips, head hanging dejectedly, and led the way from the patio door and down the hallway to his bedroom. All at once, the arrest he had caused was lifted, and Tōji's weight and warmth pushed the bars of the railing deeper into your back.

His eyes lingered at the open space, maybe anticipating Hinata would come charging back to that spot. "Ballsy kid."

Your entire body flinched from the sensation of his large hand climbing along your spine, fingers squeezing together between your shoulder blades and splaying wide again to cradle the roundness of your head. He reeled your face back to him when you tried to turn away, struck with the same unease and excitement as before.

"What're you gonna do?" He could kiss you now, but your eyes were stuck to the sides, suddenly imbued with all the shyness of someone with far less experience. "Hey, you gonna look at me? You're not gonna tell me you've never been kissed, are you?"

Of course you had, just never by someone like Tōji. Something about his size, his confidence, his attitude—it just made you feel small, made you want to be malleable for him. Useable may have been a more daring word to apply here.

Tōji made a noise in his throat. It rumbled so hard you were convinced it coursed his arm and ran through his fingers on your head.

"It's pretty cute, not gonna lie." And then his lips were between yours. Your eyes shut, hands finding and gripping his strong biceps when more of his body pressed into you. Nothing about how he kissed you was gentle or clean; it was meant for him to convey how he wanted you, and that way wasn't chaste or wound in an embrace.

You let him maneuver your head however he pleased, let the strings of saliva linking your mouths snap and feel cold on your skin before he was back in for more. His tongue carried more of the smoke smell than the rest of his mouth, but you let him in eagerly and felt yourself stirring in your groin from how lewd the sounds were.

It was when your hands started to roam, sinking between your bodies to sneak the tie of his sweatpants loose that he withdrew from you altogether and took all his heat with him. He didn't care that you were cold in the dark without him, only that he was able to finally have your eyes on him, the shine of them gone as though covered by a veil.

"You have to work in the morning, don't you? Better get to bed." The tip of his tongue came out to put a gloss over his lower lip, tasting where you had been. "Don't let me keep you."

You'd never wanted a man so much in your life as much as you wanted Tōji right now. Maybe, after all his patience to kiss you, it was the same for him.

"Tōji"—you watched him turn back around, hands bulging from his pockets—"you never told me your son's name."

His face never changed. "I forgot, sorry."

━━━━━━━━━━━

One particular weekend had initially left you beside yourself in boredom because Hinata had gone to stay with a friend, and you were off from work. You experienced some distress knowing how enmeshed Hinata had become in your life, how nearly every waking thought was of him—where he was, was he having fun, was he eating, getting good grades, taking long enough baths, going to bed on time—everything always was for concern over him.

He had been with you right after turning six, right after you had emerged from the trenches of another relationship where you had been trodden over, proved to be unlovable, lost another job, failed your parents spectacularly, and regressed to every slovenly habit you had struggled to correct for years.

And then, you got a knock at your door and saw your brother standing there in an ironed suit and stiff-gelled hair, a shiny leather briefcase in one hand, and his other resting atop the crown of your very young nephew. You hadn't seen him since his third birthday party, which had quickly erupted into family politics, long-held grudges souring the mood instantaneously.

Hinata didn't care because he had cake. They had taken the feud outside and left you with him. All you did was wipe his face when he got too dirty, and he did the same to your clean cheeks in return, already displaying those heartbreaking signs of self-reliance.

You were sad for him but didn't do anything about it at the time. Because you had turned into the family disappointment who no one believed would amount to much, stuck in that perpetual cycle of self-loathing so debilitating from somewhere so deep within, you wanted to flay yourself alive to make it stop.

"I can't take him." Your brother didn't have much of an explanation at the time. You wished you had been able to pull the wool off of your eyes to see it had been a lie.

He blathered on, "My job won't pay to support him and me. You understand, right? He needs to stay here. I can't lose this opportunity or the money. It'll be good for everyone."

You didn't know his wife had been admitted to a psychiatric unit in Yokohama until much later.

You didn't know it had been because she had a complete mental collapse and wept and screamed until her throat and eyes swelled. She had planned to take herself and Hinata to the Shuto Expressway in Greater Tokyo with determination to find a way onto it one way or another.

You didn't know that your brother would never be coming back.

You didn't know how to take care of a child or how loving one would be so different from loving horrible men.

Six months in, you were so scared you wouldn't be able to survive caring for a broken boy and a broken adult, too. Before, you could get by for days without food in your stomach, weeks barely bathing, haggard and fatigued by doing something as simple as putting together a cup of coffee.

It wasn't the same for Hinata. He needed more than you did, and some days, he had to provide for himself. Something that still made you shudder in shame to this day. He navigated your messy kitchen and washed the dishes, threw away bad food if it looked funny or fluffy to him, tried to wrestle trash bags half his size, and learned your microwave so thoroughly that he always had something warm.

You had lain on the couch—the same one Tōji now occupied—most times, only moving to your bed with those random spurts of energy or when you needed to use the bathroom.

It wasn't like you didn't know what was going on around you because you certainly heard him struggle and cry, drag things across the floor, and break dishware because he had to climb on countertops to reach the cabinets.

You made sure he ate and didn't stink, used the wire transfers from your brother to keep food in the apartment and lights and water on, but not much more than that.

Everything changed when Hinata realized you weren't eating and made a bowl of soup for you (instant noodles). He sat on the floor, on the carpet next to where your head rested on some stacked pillows on the couch. You had been asleep all day and only roused because he called out meekly:

"Are you hungry?" He had hot noodles wrapped around chopsticks. "I can feed you. You're always feeding me."

His perception of what always meant split your heart in half, eyes feeling red all the way around as they burned, and your chin trembled taking those first bites of cheap cup noodles.

He smiled at you, and you cried. It sounded so horrid that it scared him, and he didn't know what else to do but bawl too. That had been your breakthrough moment, what finally made you uncover your eyes and put your arms around him, apologizing with a crackly voice.

Maybe it's what he had needed all along as well because he laid his body on you, holding tight, and only let your quiet shushing while rocking him against you calm him down.

In those minutes of stillness with his little heartbeat feeling less aggressive on your chest, head under your chin, eyes closed, you realized that the world had failed you both, but he was the one worth fighting for the most.

━━━━━━━━━━━

It was that very same weekend Hinata was absent from the apartment that Tōji kissed you again, right there on the couch after bringing you close to him. This time he held you flush for a while, giving you that luxury of melting into his body, hands covering every curve, valley, and peak through his clothes until he started taking them off.

You broke the kiss with him to, one, take in all his bareness and the expanse of him, reveling in the pleasure that he was everything you imagined he would be. His chest and shoulders were broad, so strong you got too wound up thinking he could handle your weight on top of him, on his face. Further down, his abdomen was just as defined, his waist that waspy taper, and you could see the angle of his hip bones offering a tease from under his sweatpants.

Second, you leaned over him to see the wound he had faux surgically closed himself. It was better than it had been, anything would've been honestly, but the fishing line had grown a brownish crust, and parts of the wound itself were thick with scabbing and swelled and red with the profundity of infection beneath the sutures.

Tōji saw your expression change and didn't want to hear about it, so he clenched his fingers around your jaw to steer you back to his lips, to touch him, worshiping how he felt under your fingertips.

"You up for it?" He gave you agency to tell him no, well aware that you wouldn't.

He liked that bashful look of yours, one steeped in inner turmoil and uncertainty, yet unequivocally wrapped in lust. You knew that you wanted him and were fighting it every step of the way. Maybe because of the kid, maybe from something else you hadn't told him about yet.

It didn't really have anything to do with him, so he didn't care what it was. Good for you, however, was that he was patient and had all the time in the world—between now and his next target, at least—so if you wanted to play coy, he'd let you.

"Come here"—Tōji took you by one hip and then through your thighs to hoist you onto his lap to straddle him—"this is a better view for me, especially if you take off your shirt. You've been giving me peeks since we've met, but I wanna see."

The way he spoke to you was unoriginal and reminiscent of recent comments you never believed were honest. He had been easing you into it—how courteous.

You still couldn't muster a full smile. "So, you want a show?"

"Sure do, sweetheart. Want help?" His fingers beat yours to the raw edges of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head without any difficulty. Everything else covering you went with it except your pants. "Much better. I like this."

Parts of sex always felt like a blur, some sort of innate, dreamlike fog that shut down your brain for a while. You liked it because life didn't seem all that bad in those moments when you were focused on the feelings, the pressure, the heat on your skin, and boiling in your veins. Tōji liked it because sex felt good, and he liked when the people he slept with were high off him—any part of him.

It got his mind off of the whole bullshit situation hunting down all of Morimoto's incompetent fleshlights. He'd managed to eradicate more than half of them, dwindling that impressive army down to the protected few that couldn't save themselves for shit.

Tōji fondled your body, led your hips over the rise in his pants over and over until he was hard, and could tell you needed yours off just as much as him by the way you sucked on your lips.

He really liked the sheen your saliva left behind, kissing you again to taste you with his tongue, laying you down on your side beneath him as he worked away those final layers on both your bodies.

"Got a condom?" On second thought, it was dumb that he asked because of course you didn't. That kid was always around, and you were too uptight to drop him at someone's house just to get fucked. "I'll pull out. It’s safe enough if you do it right."

You weren't convinced, not with how your eyebrows flattened out. "Tōji, you have a kid."

He smiled, dismissing you with a shrug. "Second time’s a charm. It isn't something we need to worry about here."

You were easy to convince right now, unusually so, given your history with him over the past few months. The transition had been interesting to observe—your suspicion and distrust of him softening into taste-testing your meals from a wooden spoon, glassy and hot stares from the room, evenings on the balcony with two beers and a cigarette, and sometimes charging him with packing lunch for Hinata in the morning.

Tōji watched you fall apart the second his cock hitched up inside of you. It was cute that you were so moldable for him, doing whatever he asked, holding positions for him like armature for a sculpt. It was annoying that, after this, he probably wouldn't be able to fuck you again until after he showed up on Morimoto's doorstep ready to blast his brains out.

"O—oh, shit, Tōji—" you whimpered from your side, torso twisted toward the cushions to hide your face from him, smothering your moans so you didn't sound like a loose whore getting something good for once. "Fuck—fuck me harder."

"You're into some stuff, aren't you?" He was halfway inside you, too big to fit all the way without rearranging you. "Bet you're the type who likes being tied up? Or do you just like being fucked out of your mind?"

Your noises snagged in your throat; he already had you figured out.

He moved your leg from his arm to the nice little seat on top of his shoulder, opening you wider for him, making sure you felt every bit of his cock stretching you, sinking in until your pelvises knocked together and skin clapped.

After the dry spell he'd had over the months, even before meeting you, this was total bliss to him. He wanted to go wild, plow into your hole so hard that you screamed, maybe cried a little, bruised up where the edges of his hip bones smacked into you repeatedly. It'd be nice to see you wobbling around the apartment for a while, too embarrassed to look at him.

He was halfway to achieving that now, listening to you go from performative, loud moans anyone could get from the streets to hard breaths and panting, your sounds mostly stolen away unless he hit a spot in you that made you gasp and writhe.

Tōji kept a hand on your ankle so you'd stay put, the other gripping the back of the couch hard enough that his knuckles turned colorless, fingertips deepening red. The most important parts were on display for now, giving him a show with how they bounced and your skin rippled when he'd slam you down on him.

That's how he fucked you for a bit—into the couch cushions where he slept, on top of the blankets you let him borrow from the kindness of your heart, sheathing himself so deep inside your body that your jaw looked permanently unhinged from how long you left it hang.

"Breathe." he reminded you, leg now off his shoulder as he took you by the ass and picked you up. His cock slipped out of you, a sensation that made you jolt. "Take five."

Your limbs surrounded him, thighs filling the notches in his hips, hands curtained by tousled black hair that glistened blue in the midday light. Tōji leaned into the little scratches on his scalp, flexing his fingers across your ass cheeks in pulses mirroring the cold static racing parallel down his spine.

He nearly bumped you into furniture trying to navigate your cramped bedroom, kiss full of fervor, spurred on by your own deprived desperation.

"Spread out." He said it to you after putting you on the bed, mattress bending to the weight of your knees as you went down on your arms. "Better bite something. Actually, on second thought, I wanna hear how loud you get."

His cock was a better fit the second time, girth filling you deliciously. It made your entire body shudder when he started thrusting again. There was just something about having a real person fucking into you that toys just couldn't achieve, no matter what shockwave orgasms made your toes curl and eyes roll white in their sockets.

This kind of vulnerability was one you missed, being under the tutelage of someone else's hands guiding you in ways they liked—groping, stroking, testing your body to see how you'd respond. The novelty of a new partner trying to find your sweet spots, what made you moan, drew up goose pimples and raised the hairs in your skin. You loved it.

"Shit—" Tōji's thrusts turned savage and sloppy, a man beginning to unfurl, one step closer to regrasping clarity. He watched the fat in your ass jiggle, muscles in your back clenching to secure you on your forearms. You whimpered at the thick fingers circling your throat, levering you up onto his thighs that twitched under your palms.

He was in your ear, still masking his pleasure and how close he was to bursting with nonchalance. You saw through it; he didn't try too hard to hide it. "Touch yourself. I don't need to see you moping around because you didn't cum."

You weren't fast enough to stroke yourself before his hand was already there. He started to slow, pushing hard so his cock reached greater depths inside of you; the strength of his hips and thighs rolled your body like being aboard a boat crashing through waves. You rode his rhythm, bringing him closer to his orgasm while he brought you to yours none too gently, the glide of his hand slick and wet and rapid.

It was so good, so familiar, so disgusting how all of it sounded together—moist pattering of his palm on you, hips beating you raw until he coaxed out that final moan, a crescendo above all the rest. He kept you seated on his thighs through every lurch, every husky breath, every way your hands pushed down on his when it became too much. His release was a subdued groan against your neck, nose in your skin while hot ropes of him moved in a sluggish stream from your back into the seam of your ass.

"Sometimes I worry if I'm doing a good job raising Hinata." Sober thoughts had returned in full force, and Tōji lay partially covered by the sheets you had burrowed under. "It's scary taking care of a kid on—"

"Not to be a buzzkill, but pillow talk really isn't my thing." He sat upright, thinking about the red and white pack of cigarettes he left on the coffee table. "This is the kind of stuff we save for the balcony."

You frowned. "Then, get out of my room."

Tōji actually rather liked the idea of taking sleep into a proper bed again, secured by four walls and a door that locked instead of being at the mercy of a vengeful eight-year-old who'd probably try to suffocate him to get the television remote. A warm body waiting for him under the covers after a long night had its appeal too.

The tiny slither of fabric fell off him as he stood from your bed, another chance to admire him. He was hewn from marble, articulated and ambulant art that you'd never be able to forget the feeling of. You immersed in sore disappointment when he walked out, tracking his whereabouts through confident heel strikes that made the floorboards vibrate back to you.

He came back a few minutes later, gray sweatpants over an arm, cigarette in his lips, and a lighter ready to go.

Your perking up was diffused by agitation that followed him across the bedroom, just another one of those things he acted like he didn't see. There was a small window you never opened that he did, raising it so his entire hand and wrist could fit through it.

"Why didn't you dump him with his grandparents?" Tōji blew smoke out through the gap. He was asking because it would've made sense to do so, given it sounded like it had been an option before. "You could still do that. Drop him off and walk away. You'd be rid of him, probably be happier."

There was cold indifference in his voice. He wasn't saying it from the mind of a lover but rather a man who didn't see the point in making things harder than they needed to be, a man who had managed to forget his own son's name and showed no remorse for it.

Hinata would be safe. He’d be in a financially stable household, given anything and everything without begging. He'd be loved by his grandparents—

"Because no one loves him more than I do." It was an easy answer. Tōji smiled like you'd given the right one. "If, someday, he says he wants to live with them, I won't stop him. If he asks about his parents, I'll tell him the truth. Right now, I'm all that he needs and he deserves—he deserves a chance to just be a kid."

Tōji flicked off ashes with his thumb, head turning to look out the window with nothing left to ask.

You did, though, stewing in transient silence for all of a few seconds. "Are you a hitman?"

He left a black smear on the outside wall when he extinguished his cigarette, dropping it wherever it landed six stories below before making his way back over to the bed. You tried not to move, not when you caught a whiff of smoke next to you when the mattress dipped and faked not noticing that he was erect again.

"How'd you guess?" Tōji shucked the sheets off of you, not particularly petulant that he didn't tell you first. "That kid's sharp. He's gonna be a pain in the ass in a few years."

The next moment his tongue was in your mouth, one leg hiked up his bicep and jostled your body with every thrust. He figured that fucking you out of your mind would soften the blow of reality—that you were sheltering a hitman, keeping one fed, drinking beers and swapping spit, memorializing how it felt to be split on a murderer's cock.

"T—Tōji, more…"

He put you on your stomach, fist wrapped up in your hair. "Come on, you can do better than that."

━━━━━━━━━━━

Hinata had the run of the living room again by that Sunday evening, an event both jarring and euphoric because it had been impossible to tear him away from cartoons for half the night. He went to school Monday morning exhausted and dazed, a self-satisfied grin stuck on his face all the way down the stairwell and even when he spilled out onto the sidewalk.

Tōji became a frequent guest in your bedroom, usually emerging in the early evenings around the time Hinata's favorite shows aired. Nothing came from it. He never asked, only studied the traffic to and from your door with inquisitive, furtive looks before he was hopelessly entangled by chaos on the screen—bright colors, loud noises, kooky shenanigans, all his favorite things.

"Stop letting him have the run of things after I'm asleep. I got a call the other day from his school." You managed most of what you wanted to say before Tōji's hips lunged from behind, throwing your chest into the wall your bed was nestled against. "A—Ah, Tōji, seriously, listen to me."

He came down onto his arms, using them to hold his weight off of you. The tips of his hair were a microscopic touch and akin to something crawling on your cheek.

"I'm listening." He didn't stop rutting his cock into you, a leisurely smile inching onto his face hearing your breaths splinter, moans suffocated behind the meat of your hand. Sex first thing after a good sleep was always rewarding, especially when there was something at stake—

Like another noise complaint from the neighbors.

"I can't hear you. You're gonna have to talk louder." Tōji said, balancing with one arm and tight core muscles to grope the front of you with his other hand. "You just wanna focus on getting fucked out instead? You've been bitching a lot lately. You could use it."

You weren't going to get anything in wordwise right now, at least nothing that mattered to him.

When Tōji was buried up to the hilt inside you, all he wanted were your moans that hit a certain pitch he liked. The kind that he had to work for, couldn't be fabricated and kept him bricked up for as long as he needed to get it out of your lungs.

His appetite for you like this had started to wane, however, because he couldn't see you. From this side, sweat beaded and slid down the length of your spine like dewdrops after morning fog, your fingers clasped and unwound like a blooming bud, and all your noises might as well have been from some peepshow whore's cunt on the opposite side of the wall.

"Screw this." He put you down on your back, not twisted sideways or thrown onto his shoulders—simply where your thighs could hold his waist while he knelt between them and pushed the curve of his cock back in, studying how your eyebrows sank inward and teeth gnawed color back into your lips. "Now this is what I want to look at."

That had been his unmaking, one of few times in his life where he had experienced genuine regret for something he had done. It had been a bad idea to see the inside walls of this apartment, to kiss you on the balcony back then, and feed false truths to the kid over pints of ice cream at 2:00 a.m. because he had more questions than common sense to be afraid of him.

"You just gonna lay there like that?" It was a different night, one less goon Morimoto could hide behind.

Tōji had showered the carnage off his body, smelled clean climbing into your bed, and pulled down your pants. It didn't take many strokes for him to get hard once he pushed your legs open and felt you kiss him back. "At least make it worth my while and take off your shirt."

It was late. You were both tired, but you registered his request and slipped the airy fabric from your body so you were as bare as him, a curated masterpiece behind velvet barriers that only he could touch, grooves in his pads rising and dipping and bumping textures that felt intentional, belonged there and made up the wholeness of you.

What had happened was he laid down on you with most of his weight, jarring you into greater wakefulness—this sort of closeness wasn't something he did.

He liked a ruthless fuck, a good time, and something nice to look at while pounding into it.

That's what he had believed, that's what you had learned—this wasn't that.

"What's wrong with you?" It could've been a rhetorical question had Tōji not known why you were asking it.

"Does it bother you?" He was on his forearms to look you in the face, still pinning you underneath while languid strokes rocked your bodies in unison. "I'm not really in the mood to bend you over the dresser, but if you need to be dicked down that bad—"

"Tōji, stop." That got a laugh out of you, the sort of sound he realized he was liking more and more as the days went on. "I don't know why, but it's embarrassing. Stop staring, it's weird."

"Nah"—his thrusts picked up speed and depth, finally shaking something good out of your mouth—"just deal with it and lay there."

You used your hands to bring him down to your lips instead, giving him every opportunity to change the pace of things, fuck you how he normally did. It would've been easier for you to deal with than this, an indescribable thing that you were too hesitant to put an actual term to.

"Do what you want." Your lips were wet, smacking every time they met his. "I'm awake now. I can roll over."

"I didn't take you for some one trick pony," Tōji quipped. "Leave that to the professionals."

Nothing else came to mind after that, finding all the tension in your muscles and bones ebbing, mind melting away those apprehensions as you concentrated on how heavy and good he was on top of you. Easing more under him, your arms circled around the width of his back, wondering whether or not to put your nails in his skin or keep them retracted.

You liked the firmness of his muscles against your palms, focusing on how they moved with his hips pushing into yours, joggling your body in a quickening sequence. His face never went away, kisses frequent and deep, taking your moans into his throat, and purposefully angled himself to get more of them out of you.

When he got close enough, he tucked his face between your neck and the pillow, the confined space left a hot, moist film as his breath jerked, and he finished with one last, very jarring thrust.

It made you gasp, feeling a foreign warmth shoot inside of you similar to a hot drink down your throat amidst the coldest December day in Japan.

That was the first time Tōji hadn't pulled out to finish, and his first time making love to you.

More often after that night, he left an arm open for you to shuffle onto, and he'd use it to cram you into his side. Slow, intimate sex didn't become his norm, and he was never particularly gentle, but that sort of mood seemed to strike him more as the weeks went on.

"I wish I could give Hinata more than this." It was weird that you were always ready to dissect the more unsavory facets of your life to him, despite every instinct telling you he probably wasn't the right person for that. "I've been saving money. I could probably scrape together enough to move us somewhere better. But, then, what happens if I do, and I can't afford the monthlies? I don't want to lose him… He's everything to me."

You still hadn't confessed the worst parts of yourself to Tōji for any other reason than he never confided in you about his. There was a looming itch in the back of your head, distant and insistent that everything about this was wrong, and you needed to stop before it happened again—before you were sucked in so deep you were lost without a light, before Hinata had to suffer through something once again.

"Where would you go?" Tōji had an unlit cigarette in his lips, a new habit he started right after lovemaking became his new interest. It was that point of compromise where he still had the feeling of something there, but you didn't have to smell anything.

"I'm not sure," you went on, "just something a little bigger. Maybe a kitchen with more cabinets. Somewhere on a lower floor, I guess? I want—I want him to bring friends over, instead of him always going to them. Not all the time, mind you. I'd lose my mind looking after a bunch of kids. But, maybe, they could study together? Play games?"

"Didn't take you for the type who wanted a cookie-cutter fantasy." Tōji said, dark eyes on the ceiling, cigarette now loosely rolling inside his fingers. "That kid could live in a box, and as long as you were with him, he wouldn't complain about it."

You shifted in his arm, feeling it stiffen around you as though to stop you from leaving had that been your intention. Instead, you flopped toward your stomach, chin digging into one of his built breasts, legs threading.

"Hinata hardly complains, and when he does, it's just because a lot is going on." You looked at his face, trying to gauge something from it. He just kept staring up. "I want to meet your son."

That brought him back around. "Say that again?"

"Your son. I want to meet your son." This was unsafe to say. The implications of it were steeper than just letting him live here and fuck you and occasionally be made to help out with Hinata. "I'd like for him and Hinata to become friends. They're a similar age, right? Kids aren't too different from each other when they're that young. They just go along with stuff."

Trying to integrate a more permanent piece of Tōji's life into yours was exactly what you shouldn't have been doing. You knew it, thought it with painful bursts in your chest, a rush of guilt that felt cold and clogged up your ears like you had dunked your head in a river.

Tōji, to your astonishment, smiled lazily and began with long strokes on your arm. "I don't think his mom is gonna give him up. That is not a mess I'd put myself in the middle of."

You frowned. "That's not what I'm saying, Tōji. I just want them—"

"—To be friends." He flicked away the unmatched cigarette somewhere on the floor, took his arm back, and eclipsed your view of the ceiling with his mass. "I heard you. Now, I just keep thinking about how I'd have to see you and my ex in the same place. That doesn't really get me off."

"I'd really hope not."

There were certain superstitious people there who believed that the longer you focused on all the good happening in your life, taking it for granted and trying to shape it into new normalcy, the more devastating the reverse would be to happen. You hadn't had much luck in your arguably short lifetime, and it wasn't until you picked up your second job that the folds began to smooth a bit, and routine felt less tiresome and less like an assault on your freedom and more like a necessity to keep things in order.

━━━━━━━━━━━

All for Hinata and giving him the best possible chance to get somewhere in life that you'd never been able to—never would be able to. You had squandered enough of yours to know it wasn't fair to do it to him, a child who'd probably had it worse from the very beginning. His path hadn't diverged yet. Meanwhile, yours had a long time ago and by choice, however unfavorable your upbringing had been.

Tōji, sometimes, felt like a test for you—divine intervention as though meant to really try your mettle, rattle your conviction a little bit to see if you'd just cave inward like you always had in the past. Surrendering yourself to misplaced love and lust, losing everything and everyone to the great delusion because it always, always felt so right in the moment to love unfalteringly because it'd be all that mattered on your deathbed.

That you loved fiercely.

That you were loved in return.

You couldn't take the rest with you. Not money. Not prestige. Not even ashes you turned into when you'd be cremated. But those moments of final fading consciousness swathed in arms and warmth and tears—love?

It's everlasting.

But then, Hinata came into your life, and it was no longer about your pain. Suddenly, you had a purpose bigger than yourself, a purpose that actually meant something, not some desperate wish. You had been channeling every bit of your anguish, longing, anger, fear, and love into that dream to help him escape what you never could. Maybe someday, by some miracle, you'd be able to join him.

Tōji hadn't become a wrench but rather a missing oil can that slowed the gears and made them grind a little harder. The effects of him were inconspicuous, gradual, not really anything you'd believe would hinder you. In actuality, he probably had you wrapped up by the first night and completely ensnared by the first kiss on the balcony.

"We should do this more often." Tōji had both hands on your waist, helping you to ride a rough rhythm on his cock. You left prints of your teeth into the thumb-side of your hand, stifling moans so they wouldn't seep through the paper-thin walls. "It's sexier when you're loud."

You'd made it years without any noise complaints, and now you had three. The last one had been delivered not by letter or phone, but in person from property management. It had been a sheepish conversation for everybody that ended with them pointing out that's why people usually went to Kabukichō where love hotels ruled the strip.

Tōji had been standing in the doorway with you, arm over your head with a casual lean. He made sure to tell them he'd been to Kabukichō many times, and the quality there wasn't anywhere on par with what you gave.

Management scampered away, flushed and aroused, and you wanted to fucking kill him. But Hinata was at school and you weren't due for work at your second job for a few hours—so you just fucked again.

Now, you were straddling him, a sack of pudge in his hands kneading your waist, hips, thighs, gripping your ass to control how hard his cock rutted up into you.

He carried one of his hands up your spine, slow and lazy as though it were too much for him to do, circled your nape, and brought your chest down on his so he could kiss you, tease you with the stiffened point of his tongue.

Everything stuttered to a halt when Hinata's scream ripped into your bedroom from the slit under the door and made the walls tremble before you realized it was you and your heart lunging from adrenaline.

Tōji let you climb off of him, clumsily and hurriedly, to throw a discarded robe on the floor around your body and throw open the door without considering that the man was lying naked in your bed.

"What is it?! What is it?!" you tried shouting above the boy's cries. They had turned wild and dissolved into wails. The kind that only happened in response to true terror or pain.

You'd never heard him like this.

"Hinata, what is it?!" It was hard not to take hold of his shoulders and shake him. That was the first impulse, the reaction to quiet something making so much noise. But you simply crouched low, keeping your fingers tight in case he tried flailing. "What happened?!"

He sucked in greedy breaths, still crying in between them and hiccuping. Snot glistened down his nose, lips, and chin, turning the reddest you had ever seen possible in someone with his complexion. With a short finger, he turned and pointed to a brown box on the floor.

It looked like a normal parcel, just like something you'd receive from the post office that had a new toy or school supplies in it. Clearly, he had thought that was the case because he'd found a pair of scissors and opened it, all four flaps spread wide, insides speckled red. Some darker splotches had been absorbed into the tan cardboard.

"What—what the hell is that?!" You couldn't keep the quiver out of your voice. "Hinata, go to your room."

"No!" he hiccuped, wiping under his nose with a fist. "No! Don't make me!"

Your heart pulsed through you like a hammer that sent vibrations ricocheting off your bones and made your intestines squeeze. You thought you could hear the organ squelch in your ears, dampening Hinata's tantrum the closer you got.

The inside of the box was what you imagined red food dye exploding inside a microwave would look like, though darker, blacker like it'd had time to sit and settle into all the layers. In the center of it was something small, just as black as the blood and had that charred, shriveled quality to it.

You had to stare at it for a long time to figure out it was a human ear attached to a flayed chunk of flesh, likely where all the blood had originated.

"Hinata"—everything you had eaten in the past three days was journeying up your esophagus, mouth already salivating—"go to your room."

"No!" He choked through a sob.

Tōji came out of the bedroom in sweatpants and no shirt, having decided that whatever was happening was a big enough deal that he needed to be there.

He asked, gratingly, "What's all the screaming about?"

Anger rushed up your core all the way to your chest, neck, and to every last strand on your head. You thought you could sling the box at him, pick up a chair and gouge him on one of the legs, and filet him with the scissors Hinata had taken from the kitchen.

The funny thing about love is that just as fast as it could be ignited, it could be snuffed just as easily—especially when there was someone to protect, someone you loved more than you ever could him.

You were on fire. "This is your fault!"

With a forceful thrust from your toes, the box made a scuffing sound as it skidded across wood floors to him where he stopped it with his foot and glanced in at the macabre contents. He must've stared at it for almost thirty seconds, the light in his eyes never changing, never once wincing or reeling like he was appalled.

"I made a mistake." Why did it have to take something like this to see it? Why was it always so awful? "I can't believe I did it again. I can't believe I was stupid enough to let you in here."

"Calm down." Emptiness sat behind those words, neither comforting or threatening. It was one of those things you'd probably do in a room by yourself.

Hinata had never seen you flare in anger, so he stayed away but never considered going anywhere near Tōji. You didn't like that he was standing in the open.

"Go to your room." Third time.

He cried. "No! I don't want to!"

"Hinata." You never took your eyes off Tōji, and he never took his eyes off you. "Go to your room."

"No!"

That was the final prod to send your temper cascading, ears burning the hottest you'd ever felt them, and that uneasy stillness within the apartment shook with the sound of your screams. "I said go to your room!"

He shrank and obeyed, feet pounding away on the wood floor to let you know he was going. A door slammed, reassuring you that the only people left in your living room were you and Tōji, an unequal standoff.

"That's a bit harsh, don't you think?" Tōji had shoved aside the box with the ear, standing a little closer to you than he had been before. This wouldn't have a fair outcome—he was twice your size and strength, what could you do? "He's just a kid. He didn't understand what he was looking at."

"You're explaining child psychology to me now? Don't act like you give a shit." you said, walking backward to keep the space. "I should've kicked you out, Tōji. I should've kicked you out when you told me it was a gunshot. I should've kicked you out when you said you were a hitman."

Tōji's pockets protruded, round with his thick hands moving around inside. "Yeah, you really should've. You didn't, though. We're all selfish sometimes."

"You could've left on your own," you continued, "you could've healed and walked right out and left us alone. There was never anything for you to gain by staying here."

"I needed a place to stay." he said, shrugging one arm to his ear and kept advancing on you. "I could come and go how I wanted. Could sleep when I wanted. Free meals. Free beer. Eventually, good sex. Why would I leave?"

It wasn't like you to cry anymore, not like how you used to when there were days getting out of bed was too laborious. A permanent indentation of your shape had molded into the mattress from how long you'd lay there sometimes, dried tears tight streaks on your skin while staring out that little window in your bedroom where Tōji liked to frequent to smoke out of.

Once Hinata came along and fed you cup noodles from the floor, that overflowing well behind sore red eyes suddenly sucked dry, and there was no time for you to wallow, no time for you to try to stop to remember why it had hurt so bad to begin with. You had a sweet, gentle soul who needed strength and reliability.

Something, in the end, you now understood you weren't able to give him because you had relented to Tōji, likened sex as the only way to have love reciprocated. Nothing had changed from the last man you loved to Tōji, except for your desperation making you turn a blind eye to everything he was, all the danger you were bringing into that boy's life.

How utterly, disgustingly selfish.

"You're crying?" Tōji's expression rearranged as though startled, possibly the only time you'd ever seen it. "Is it because of what I said? What if I told you it was only half true?"

Each tear that wetted your face felt like it was burning an imprint into your flesh. "It doesn't matter. I should've put you out the second you finished stitching yourself up."

"That would've been the smart way to go about it, yeah." He smiled, though not confidently. "You love me."

If he had said that to you an hour ago while you were on top of him, stifling moans while being fondled by his rough hands, you would've fallen apart and confessed everything. You would've been stupid enough to kiss him again and again, gasping through raspy breaths that you'd never loved any man more than him.

And that was every bit true even now.

"I do, Tōji, I really do." You wouldn't give the luxury of a shallow smile but rather a dour look with eyes glaring determination through him. "But, I love Hinata more. More than I ever could you. It's time for you to leave."

His head leaned a touch to the left, still unperturbed by it all. "You gonna be okay?"

It was an unexpected response, not one you had an easy time holding a stiff upper lip to. "For him, I'll find a way to be. Goodbye, Tōji."

Once you walked away, you didn't stop to check what his reaction was, if it had even changed at all. Somehow, you doubted he did much besides follow you with black eyes and a swiveling neck, and that was fine. You left no room for him to doubt you this time, no chance to believe that he was still welcome in your bed, your and Hinata's apartment, or your lives.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you." To be safe, you locked Hinata's door after you entered and pushed into the floor with your knees to sit on them. "You were scared. I was scared. People who are scared sometimes do things they shouldn't. It doesn't make it okay, but it happens."

His face was completely dry, a damp washcloth twisted in his fingers as he peered down at you from his bed. They were still watery and red, but the worst of his fear had passed. Now, you guessed, he just wasn't sure what was going to happen next.

"Where’s Tōji?" He didn't ask fearfully, more bewildered since you had accused him of the ear in the box earlier. "Is he a bad guy?"

The impulse was there to paint him as the villain of this story, an effortless way to weasel yourself back into Hinata's good graces because children generally understand things were either all good or all bad. However, your nephew wasn't like them and could gather some of those more nuanced things, though still with much less perceptibility.

He would believe you, but your words were not gospel to him. That's the way it should be.

"Tōji's gone. I told him it was time to go." you said. A couple hairs on his head had fallen into a strange arrangement. You wanted to reach out and move them but stopped yourself and sat still. "I love him, so I'm not sure if he's all a bad guy. Tōji lives a different kind of life from us. It’s not meant for us. He's not meant for us."

Hinata put his feet on the floor and came over to sit on your lap. You crossed your legs so he had a spot, fingers already at work on his head.

"But, you love him. Shouldn't he stay?" he asked kindly. You prayed to whatever existed out there in the universe that he'd lever lose that part of himself to cynicism or cruelty. "We keep people we love close, right?"

"Maybe"—you nuzzled him, forehead to forehead, feeling that hot pressure build behind your eyes again—"but I love you so much more, Hinata."

"You're not mad at me?" He asked so hopefully, so brittle that you had to inhale sharply through your nostrils. "I'm sorry if I made you mad because of the scissors or opening the box. I know you said not to touch them."

You let out a laugh equal parts pained and humored, arms coming up to tuck him against your chest, and just cradled him there. He was almost too big to fit against you like that now. "No, baby, I'm not mad at you. I couldn't be mad at you. I just still have a lot of work to do on myself."

His head shifted away from your chin so he could see your face. It was a relief to see him smiling. "You're doing a good job. I'm really proud of you."

It took you a good, long while to stop crying after he said that to you. He fit awkwardly in your arms. Soon, he wouldn't be able to sit like this with you, and, almost as close as that, he wouldn't want you to hold him at all. Teenagers were just that way, pretending to be too jaded to be loved.

"He really left." Hinata walked into the living room with you later on, hand holding yours, a needed comfort at that moment. "Do you think he'll try to come back?"

"Maybe," you said. The possibility wasn't zero. "If you see him, just tell me so I can run him off."

"Okay—" He noticed something on the coffee table a few feet away. "What's that?"

You approached it first, getting a good look before giving Hinata the chance to come up along your side to also see it. On the table in front of your eyes was a clip of ten thousand yen banknotes. Even folded up and clamped with a piece of smeared metal, you could tell that's what they were. They were that shade of light yellow-green that reminded you of vintage photographs from the sixties or seventies with much less yellow and no curled edges or water stains.

"Holy shit!" Hinata darted from your side to pick it up, removing the clip to count through them all, missing a piece of white scrap paper that fluttered off of it. "This is so much money!"

You glanced uncomfortably at him, unsure of whether that money was safe to touch given the only person whom it could've come from was Tōji. But why?

Hinata counted while you looked around the apartment as if taking it in for the first time. The most important thing was that the box with the roasted ear was gone, and your front door was locked with the spare key in the doorknob. A certain look about it was a blow to your chest, crushing your heart in a vise as the finality of what it meant settled over you.

Tōji really wasn't coming back.

It was odd knowing there'd be one less person to pad around the floor, open the refrigerator, or even flush the toilet. Tōji had come into your life with nothing but the clothes on his back and a bullet in his ribs, and he had left much the same way.

"Oh my god!" Hinata's heels drummed into the wood underfoot with glee. Next, the money was shoved in your face. It smelled brand new. "There's two million yen! That's so much money! We're rich!"

"Not quite." You didn't want to deflate his enthusiasm, but this was not something you wanted him boasting about outside these walls. "We should really turn it in to the police. We don't know where Tōji got it, or if it's real."

Hinata spun around to a window filtering in the golden glow from midmorning light. Pulling a banknote taut in his thumbs, he held it up and, sure enough, all three vertical watermark bars appeared. "It's real! We're so rich!"

"I don't believe it…" You looked at the ground after finding a chair to lean on. It was then that you saw the scrap paper below, torn from the corner of an envelope, you assumed, and picked it up. "Did this come off the clip, Hinata?"

He was on your arm, gawking at it. "Uh, I guess? I dunno. What's it say?"

You flipped it to the side with black scrawl on it, finding that you couldn't read it aloud because of a snag in your throat.

Hinata did it for you. "'For the cookie cutter fantasy.' What's that mean?"

It was all you could do not to cry again.

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No one ever said that raising a kid would leave you without time to spare forever. For you, that came much sooner than expected, and you hadn't been prepared for it to happen. Hinata was nine years old now, going through a growth spurt, and wanted more to do with after-school extracurriculars with his friends than he did sitting at home or exploring a new town with you.

It wasn't anything you blamed him for. You were old and grounded in reality, plodding through the monotony of adulthood and sticking to things you knew now instead of always reaching out for everything—everyone that was different. People liked to say that, to thrive, you needed variety and change in your life, that next big move to circumvent stagnancy.

The thing about it was that your life had been in such constant motion you never learned how to slow down until the brakes were put on for you and forced you to sit in the unpleasantness of yourself and things from the past until you saw the patterns, the behaviors, and the thinking that always kept the wheels spinning.

Now, you were just lonely and comfortable in an apartment that felt too big for you most days. Hinata was still home every night for dinner, waved groggily in the morning before heading out the door for school, and brought his friends around to play games—it just wasn't the same.

"You should get a boyfriend and stop working so much." he told you during a train ride home from the sea, Kanazawa in Ishikawa Prefecture, a nice weekend getaway to get some distance from an endlessly bustling town and the emptiness of the apartment. "Akio's dad is single. Maybe…"

"He's, like, ten years older than me!" You flicked him on the forehead. "What are you trying to say? I'm old? That I should get together with old men?"

"No! No!" Hinata laughed, leaning out of your reach. "I just feel bad because you're home by yourself a lot. It makes me sad that all you do is work."

There was no simple, cheerful way to tell him it was better than the alternative. To regress into old habits.

"That money isn't infinite, Hinata. It got us someplace nice, but it's my job to keep us in it." you said, briefly glancing at another passenger walking the narrow aisle closer to the front. "I take that seriously. I plan on keeping us ahead."

His chest collapsed with a sigh, feet touching the floor even when he sat back in his seat. You didn't think you'd ever get used to it, nor just how suddenly kids can grow. It was torturous to think that one day, sometime soon, there'd be another adult sitting across from you.

"Whatever, I guess." He looked at you like he had something else to say. You could anticipate what it was about. "Do you think Tōji is doing okay?"

It was inevitable that he'd be brought up when the money was mentioned. Life had improved thanks to him, and in that way you were grateful he had come into your lives. He took a piece of you with him when he left. Hopefully he knew that and treated his memories of you kindly rather than embittered.

"I don't really know, Hinata. It's been six months." Hardly any time had passed, yet the seasons had turned several times, and it felt like years of wear had settled into the knobs of your joints. "What do you think?"

He shrugged all the way to his ears, peering out into the aisle hearing squeaky wheels on a food trolley approach. "Probably good. Oh, can I get a taiyaki? Please? Pleeeeease?"

You smiled at him, opening your wallet for a couple of banknotes so he could pick a few things he wanted. It made you happy to do things for him that made him resonate with such joy.

A six hour train and forty-five-minute taxi ride later, you were handing off a duffle bag to Hinata to take on ahead up the stairs to the second floor where your apartment was. The fact that you had an easy climb up and down from your front door was probably one of the best perks of a new place, slightly second to a fully remodeled kitchen and bathroom.

You had your own bag in tow, plus a few totes with souvenirs and snacks from the sea that made some pretty ugly scuffing sounds, drowning out the echo of your footsteps on the stairs.

Hinata's voice came barreling down to you, incoherent at first but in that high-pitched intonation that kids usually had. "He's back!"

You didn't miss the urgency. "What?"

"The freeloader is back!"

Just then, your heart gave a jolt as if renewed with vigor, thrashing to escape its confines behind your ribs, hurting for all of the five seconds it took to trudge up the stairs with your baggage. You stopped breathing once you reached the next landing.

Tōji stood there in front of your door, a much shinier one with gleaming numbers that caught too much light from fluorescent bulbs descending from above. This was entirely familiar to you yet completely different all the same.

"Hey." His smile was a little bit off and looked so handsome on him, just like you remembered it. A plastic bag rustled at his side as he lifted it into view, bringing your and Hinata's eyes to it. "There's a place here in town that has good takoyaki. Want some?"

"Oh, yesssss!" Hinata snatched it from Tōji, ducking around his large body to wiggle a key in the doorknob and burst inside.

All had been forgiven. All was well to a nine-year-old boy that evening.

Tōji held a hand out horizontally at about waist height, then raised it a few inches higher. Puzzlement moved his face around.

"Did he get bigger?"

You could do nothing except nod. What was the right thing to do here? Run him off or scream for help? This wasn't the kind of place where people turned a blind eye to ruckus. It wasn't an affluent area, just another company concerned about appearances and meeting the standards of everything they stuck in a brochure. They touted a safe and quiet neighborhood.

Tōji looked comfortable in a black sweatsuit several sizes too big, fabric hanging off him in a way that was slouchy but not unattractive. His hands ballooned in the pockets, something else that hadn't changed about him.

When you found the courage to speak, you did so cautiously. "What are you doing here, Tōji?"

"Morimoto's dead, so I decided to take a vacation." He said it like it was the most obvious thing, gave a little shrug in the same way you'd tell someone a friend had gone off somewhere.

None of it made sense to you right away. That name had never made an appearance in any conversation. A few seconds later, you understood that whoever Morimoto had been, he was the one who shot Tōji all those months ago and delivered the burnt ear to your doorstep.

It didn't alleviate all of your anxieties, but the swell of it in your chest abated somewhat. Looking at Tōji now felt less of a daunting task and more of an unwanted interaction between an ex you'd had less than an amicable ending with.

"That doesn't answer my question." The bags on your shoulders were beginning to feel like lead pulling you down into the floor. This needed to end quickly. "Never mind, it doesn't matter. Just get out of here, Tōji."

"I need someplace to stay." he said.

You bristled. "No, you don't. You left two million yen sitting on my coffee table. Stop trying to make me look stupid."

Tōji shifted then, hands still burrowed deep in his pants as he curled his back slightly for a quick peek past the front door that Hinata neglected to shut. He wouldn't be able to gauge much of the inside from that view, but even that was too revealing for you.

"Looks nice. Is that what you used the money for?" His eyes were back on you, his form growing in size as he came closer. "I want to hear about it."

You wondered how much it would stroke his ego if you told him that his money had truly been what afforded you and Hinata this modicum of comfort. A part of you worried that he'd try to weaponize it, use it like ammunition to wedge his way back into your lives.

"It's comfortable. Hinata has a bigger room, and his friends come over to play games." You didn't think it was necessary to tell him anything. It was simply a courtesy. He had invested and wanted to know what that investment went to. "I actually have enough kitchen space for my pans; remember how they'd have to stack on top of the oven?"

His lips were dry, pulling up tight and pale with the easy sprawl of his smile. "Yeah, that was a pain in the ass."

"Do you remember how small the bathroom was at the old place? Your knees would basically touch the wall when you sat on the toilet," you continued, "It's double that size now. Not the biggest, but Hinata and I can brush our teeth at the same time now."

Tōji stood inches away, hip braced against the railing that was made of stainless steel and glowed under all the lights. It was always cold beneath your fingertips, worse in the wintertime.

He didn't seem to notice it, though. "What's the view like?"

"Not my favorite thing about the place, but there's a lot more light that comes in. The patio is pretty small, but I have a folding table out there and a couple chairs. I like to sit out there and drink coffee in the morning, beer at night."

You let the bags slide from your shoulders down the length of your arms. "There's not a lot to see from the second floor, but it's nice to people-watch, I guess."

"It sounds like you got that dream life after all." Tōji reached for the totes on your arm and took them onto the bulk of his. "Good for you. Good for Hinata."

Hearing him use your nephew's name so casually with a sort of softness you had never known from him sent ripples down your spine. It was hard to navigate yourself through the tempestuous storm of thinking of how much you'd missed him this entire time versus reasonably distrusting his intentions with flashbacks of everything that had happened playing like flickering reels of cinema in your head.

"Mind if I come in? That takoyaki was expensive." Tōji had the nylon shoulder strap of your duffel bag wrapped in his hand now. He wouldn't be giving it back.

You told him he could.

The real answer was much more nebulous and complex, filled with uncertainty and waning courage and exhaustion from a life that had just never gone according to plan.

Tōji didn't go inside immediately, instead turning to block it with his body and the bags. You were just now taking notice of a dimming red scar over the corner of his lips, maybe from a knife of some kind. It was new enough to still have color, old enough to be completely healed.

"Ah, I almost forgot. I want you and Hinata to meet Megumi." he said, giving his temple a tap with two fingers. "Should be soon, I think."

"Wait. Who?"

Tōji guided you inside with a hand on your back, door clicking shut after him.

"My son. His name is Megumi."

━━━━━━━━━━━

a/n: alrighty, story notes time:

this was a challenging piece for me for a lot of reasons. the biggest was probably including a child character and giving him actual significance to the storyline. I've written kids in the past, but usually only in passing or very briefly. arguably, most of mc's personal growth came from wanting to give their nephew a better life, but I also believe that hinata becomes somewhat of a coping mechanism for mc. sort of, like, mc drops one bad habit (bad men) for another (obsessed and worried about hinata's wellbeing).

my idea for tōji in this one-shot was keeping some canon elements (forgetting about megumi and his name), but also diverting quite a bit (e.g. megumi's mom is alive and well; tsumiki and her mother are a part of his past, but there's no current involvement with them. the scar on his lip resulting from morimoto and not something earlier on in his life.

I left the ending a bit ambiguous and slightly concerning bc I really wanted to drive home that progress and change are not linear. I think, for a character like mc with their history, being able to think more critically about the decisions they make vs acting impulsively as they had in the past is growth. it's all very nebulous and uncomfortable bc the ending doesn't imply something overly good, or overly bad. it sits in the middle where you know it could feasibly just turn back into a cycle, or it could be a chance at something better.

the door clicking closed could be as damning as a funeral bell, could be as hopeful as church bells during a wedding. it's up to you.

there are, obviously, some morals and ethics that go into this, namely the idea mc should let tōji around at all because of what he does—despite him never once causing (physical) harm to mc or hinata. could even be debated that the money he left for them was a way to keep his foot wedged in the door to get back in when he thought it'd be a good time, that may be giving too much credit to tōji tho lmao.

if y'all enjoyed this tho, please consider reblogging it so it gets around!!!❤️

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk toji #toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #2k write

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hades-in-bloom · 9 months

Text

Shower Thoughts

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

summary: Leon has just returned from another soul-crushing mission—and you didn't happen to be home yet.

warnings & contents: heavy angst, our sweetpea is hurt; suicide trigger/thoughts; implied severe depression; assumed older Leon; implied military training on the reader; more hurt than comfort; mentions of death and violence, and blood; could be read as age gap but could be none; the reader could be of any gender; there's light at the end of the tunnel.

a/n: I was craving some angst but didn't plan it to go that far; oh well. Our sweet boy deserves all the happiness though—but author is a bitch. Also, I don't believe Leon would be seriously considering harming himself, but I do believe that he's an empathetic human being kidnapped in his youth to do a shitty job, so there could be a moment of weakness; otherwise, “we owe it to the people who died alongside us, so we have to continue living.” As always, proceed at your own risk. DNI minors & if mentions of suicide affect you. This is a work of fiction and shouldn't be used as guidance on how to behave in similar sensitive situations. Masterlist

***

Leon rubbed his hands under the hot tap forcefully, willing to wash off the blood; the water coming off his fingers was clean for a while, but he seemed not to notice it—after all, there was always blood on his hands, whether others could see it or not. The man only stopped when the touch started to hurt, his abused skin red from friction.

“Shit,” Leon grunted under his breath and turned off the faucet angrily, his breathing ragged. Others might say that it was adrenaline still rushing through his veins, but he knew it wasn’t it. For how long he’s done this job, he was past the prolonged adrenaline rush a while ago. Leon put his palm over his forehead, barely covering his exhausted eyes; his hands slightly shaking.

How many more people had to die before this shit would end?

He remembered them all, those he couldn’t save, and he only kept counting. Leon knew he wasn’t supposed to—saving ordinary folk was a luxury in his position—but it was hard for him to accept who he had become. The extensive bathroom mirror in front of him, he couldn’t level his gaze to take a look at himself, and when he did, his teeth clenched, and his glance shot into the corner of the reflection—there was his essential gear, a pistol and a knife, thoughtlessly dropped on the bathroom floor.

Suddenly, he felt exhausted. A carnal thought made him blush in a fever—wouldn’t it be so easy? Leon was never the type to look for easy ways out—but he was only of flesh and blood, too; isn't he only human? Despite what reports said about him always being “the survivor” and “the golden boy.” Screw the odds.

He picked up his gear from the floor, his palm sliding across the pistol barrel. Leon counted the bullets left in the magazine with another hand, pulling it back into the grip compartment right after; his facial expression was unreadable, deprived of emotion. In moments like this, the man wasn't sure if he could feel anything anymore.

Wouldn't it be so easy, after all? Maybe after that, he'll be able to wake up from this bloody nightmare.

Consumed by his thoughts, he didn't hear how the keys screeched in the lock of the apartment door, and you came in.

You noticed his jacket on the hanger, and your eyebrows shot to your forehead in surprise.

“Leon?” you called to him, dropping bags full of groceries next to the kitchen island; your body tensed in anticipation. You didn't expect him so early. After his assignments, he usually barged in the middle of the night and not in the light of day. You didn't complain, though. You missed him.

You gently knocked on the bathroom door when you heard muffled sounds from another side. “Hey,” your voice was calm and soothing. “Can I come in? Do you need help?” At this point, you got used to his bruises and stitches, caring only about him getting back home in one piece.

There was something more to his injuries this time.

“Shit,” Leon cursed under his breath again when you stepped into the bathroom, despairing of getting a word out of him. You were worried; he could see it on your face. You quickly noticed his scalded hands, the right one behind his back, hiding something. He looked like a curious teenager who got caught watching adult movies.

“Hey,” his lips stretched into an unnatural smile. “Sorry, I didn't hear you come in…”

“You should've called me,” you scolded him calmly, making a step forward. His body tensed and froze as soon as you stretched your hand toward him, and you held back a frown. “…I would’ve been home in a heartbeat.”

The man’s eyes were bloodshot, his lips chapped, and his breath ragged; and then you saw it—the reflection in the mirror betraying him—his long fingers clinging to the gun. Your mouth went agape, and you dashed forward with a precision of a trained police officer.

“Give it to me,” you hissed, your heart beating in your throat. You were scared—you haven't been that afraid of in ages. Leon gasped, bamboozled, and his hand easily let go of a weapon. You didn’t ask—you slapped him across the face, letting your frustration out. “Are you mad? What were you going to do with this thing?”

You would react differently if he wasn’t hiding it; somehow this bothered you more than anything. After all, Leon should’ve known that you wouldn’t fumble at the sight of a gun, which made his attempts to cover its presence even more pointless.

His cheeks flushed, and he gulped, incapable of looking at you; he was confirming your worst fears, and after giving him a long stare, your hand covered your mouth to stop you from sobbing.

“Moron,” you grunted under your breath. His head got even lower, and you saw a tear falling onto the lightly colored tile. It took you a moment before you grabbed him into an angry, desperate embrace. His hands wrapped around your waist, then one shot into your hair, pressing at the back of your head, pulling you closer. His face was buried into your neck, and his body shook violently as he let himself cry.

You held him painfully close as long as it was necessary. “I am sorry,” you whispered next to his ear while he clung to you like a drowning man to a lifeboat; you sounded hurt and angry—and hopeful. “I am so, so sorry.”

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misguidedasgardian · 9 months

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I need to... (2)

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MASTERLIST

Summary: Your time and your patience is running out

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader (for now), MAIN Cregan Stark x Fem!reader

Warnings: There are mentions of them being Minors! at some point in their relationship, a lot of cursing, cheating, angst, depression, age gap (not for reader), coercion, toxic relationship, drinking alcohol to cope, in some countries it is underage drinking, (reader is 18). contraceptive pills, panick attack, throwing up (not intentional), thoughts about injuries and medical procedures to one-self (not self induced), weird-ass warnings but you knew when you read them, might forget some …

+ 18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 5.1 k

Notes: I can’t believe the support on this! it's amazing! and I can’t wait for all of you to realize the ramifications of Aemond’s fuckery JAJA

It has been only been a week and you couldn’t take it anymore, so you found yourself almost running up the stairs leading to that ugly studio, that once you found “Artsy”, you had to do something, you had to face her, you had to

You found Alys alone cleaning her art supplies, when she saw you, she smiled widely

“Hey, you are free this time of day?, what do you need?”

“What I need is for you to stop fucking my boyfriend”, you snapped, her face went pale, “you know you were in the last year of highschool when he was being born? sick”, then her face turned bitchy, and unapologetic

“Perhaps you should ask yourself why your boyfriend prefers to fuck me than you”, you couldn’t take it anymore, you looked around frantically, and found quickly what you were looking for, a cartoner knife

Alys’ face was like the one of the woman of psycho, the scene in the shower, you couldn’t take it anymore and stabbed her right by her collarbone

You screamed when you woke up, you raised your hands to your face to see if you had your teacher’s blood in them, but they were clean, you looked around and found yourself in your dorm room… alone

You had not stabbed your teacher….

Yet

You jumped from your bed when you heard your alarm go off.

You had classes

Plastic arts classes

For fucks sake

You looked at the mirror in the common bathroom and you looked like shit, dark bags under your eyes, your hair was messy, you didn’t even want to try, you just went to her class, not even having a shower

why bother?

You had kept yourself waxed, clean, hair always perfect, always makeup in your face, perfume in your neck, you had plucked your eyebrows every week, and for what?

Alys looked radiant today, her gorgeous black hair loose, makeup that made her green eyes even bigger and shinier

Fucking bitch

When you arrived class already started, she made eye contact with you, raising one of her perfect model-shaped eyebrows but say nothing as she kept giving instructions for the class of today

You sat at the last table, back of the class and took out your notebook, and started doodling.

You started to plan

Your godmother was going to be so happy you would want to change careers, because she knew what you truly wanted, and she didn't think it was a good idea to choose your college only for a man, which you had done, so… she was going to be easy..

Even though she was so proud when you told her you got in Dragonstone University, it was a prestigious school, and she wasted no time in telling everyone she knew in King’s Landing country club.

Anyways

Then you were going to buy a ticket to go live on the whole other side of the continent. You thought the money your parents gave you would let you live comfortably for the years you needed to study without even thinking about working…

You were going to be fine

You could kiss that family discount with the airline goodbye

Then you were going to need to take a few boxes with you, your belongings, luckily you didn’t have much, so you started to make a list of everything you needed to do.

And suddenly, you felt all eyes on you, you looked up and realized that witch Alys had made you a question or something, and everyone was looking at you to answer it

“Sorry?”, you asked

“i asked, at what temperature you need to heat plastic in order for you to mold”, she asked again, she tried to sound nice, but you could tell she was visibly annoyed

“I don’t know”, you answered, she looked at you, frowning, but then answered herself and continued the class, after everyone had stopped snickering

You had made so many mistakes, you had managed to enter one of the most prestigious schools in the country, taking someone else’s place, and you didn’t even want to be here. It was early, you thought, at least, it was not too late…

You would be ashamed, if you didn’t try so damn hard to fit in, for you to really be interested in your classes, for you to want to be an architect

Sadly you didn’t

As soon as Alys dismissed the class you jumped off your seat and ran off, even though you heard her calling you… Gods the audacity

If you were a tracher fucking your student’s boyfriend, the least you could do is leave her alone, right?

“Professor Alys is calling you”, said one of your classmates with a boring face, he grabbed your arm to stop you from running down the stairs, and you had no choice but to return and face her

she was wiping the board with her back to you, your eyes went to the desk where you found now only a cardboard knife, but also very big scissors. You felt like a lightning bolt had shot through your spine, you shook and grabbed yourself, reviving your dream all too well.

She finally turned around and looked at you

Boyrfiend fucker

You knew very well your boyfriend, Aemond, was the one at fault, he was the one in a committed relationship with you, but she was also at fault, she knew he was your boyfriend… SHE WAS YOUR TEACHER, she knew him through you! you wouldn’t go as far as to say she was your friend, but really close, she was your mentor, she was also at fault

“I know you are frustrated, and you don’t really want to be here, but I thought at least, together you and I, had come to some sort of understanding”, she said sweetly. Any understanding that you both may have had came to an end when you found her fucking your boyfriend in this very desk

The thought made you take back your hand that you had placed in top of that surface, you looked at it, disgusted, like it was some sort of roadkill, and for a second, as you looked back at her, you thought you saw some fear in her ghostly green eyes, but you quickly discarded it

“I’m failing two courses, it’s been a tough week”, you whispered, taking your eyes off of her

“You got pretty good grades in this class”, she tried, “Don’t ruin it so close to the finish line”

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again”

Should you confront her? you didn’t want to lose momentum, but you didn’t think you had the strength, you had never been a confrontational person, and… what were you going to gain? explanations? a fight? an apology? what?

You found her looking at you with pity, and you almost snorted

“Yours is a complicated age, you are expected to make life-changing decisions without not truly knowing much of the world, it is almost unfair they made you choose what you want to do for the rest of your life at this young age… but that is what college is for, you know?”, she muttered, “it might take you a while, like I did, but in the end, you will find your calling”

You barely nodded, your energy suddenly depleted, you wanted to fall into your bed with five muscular relaxers on and not wake up for a week

If you offer, would the meds students put you in a coma for learning purposes? works both ways

Alys continued her motivational speech while you thought how good it must feel not to feel anything, you wanted to rip your heart from your own chest for it to stop aching like it was.

You watched Alys and how her lips moved and her eyes danced

And then, even though you couldn’t hear her, you saw her put her hand in her belly

“... And when you least expected, life surprises you”, she muttered, and then from her belly you looked up at her again

“You are pregnant?”

“I shouldn’t be sharing this with you, I only just found out, it's very new, I think six weeks”

You were going to pass out

“Is it my boyfriend’s?”, you asked before you can even stop your own tongue

“What?”, she asked, “how…?”

“I need to go”

You stumbled away from her, grabbing onto the wall you tried not to fall down the stairs and break your neck, fortunately the bathrooms were right there, you barely managed to enter and kneeled in the nearest stall, and you threw up, all the poor contents of your breakfast

You were shaking, with nausea and your chest constricting within itself

Once you were done throwing up, you lean back to the stall wall, and you started to hyperventilate, suddenly, you had trouble breathing, and you couldn’t, you tried to take long breaths, but nothing was helping

Soon, a couple of hands were on you

“Hey, are you alright?”, it was a girl, young

“Can’t breathe”, you managed to squeeze our of your twisted throat

“I think you are having a panic attack”, she said, completely concerned for you

“I think I might be”, you conceded, your chest felt too tight

Alys was pregnant with Aemond’s baby. I mean, was she? for how long this had been going on? she had a boyfriend when the school year started, you had seen him, he trained the Football team here.

You dry heaved and that made it worse

The student grabbed you and took you out of the stall, you managed to stand up and grab onto the vanity. She massaged your back with soothing movements

“Breathe in and out”, she commanded, and you obeyed, looking in the mirror and into your own eyes, to find your own strength

She placed her hands in your shoulders and began to rub, as you kept breathing

“Your chest hurts?”, suddenly, it stopped, and you shook your head

“No, not anymore”, you managed to answer, as you turn on the cold water and splashed your face with it, and put a bit of cold water in the back of your head, it always worked, to calm yourself down

“You need to go to the nursery”, she said, worried

“I think I’m alright”, you whispered

“Are you sure?”, she asked, you nodded

“Thank you so much”, you whispered

“My sister used to have them all the time, its fine”, she then looked at you and frowned, ”you are Aemond’s girlfriend, are you not?”

For fucks sake

“Yes”, you said, smiling fakely

“He is so awesome, I have him in all my classes”

You can have him then

“Anyways, thank you again”, you grabbed your backpack that was in the middle of the bathroom floor, and walked out of the bathroom hastily

Just a couple of more weeks

Just a couple

But you couldn’t

With shaky hands you grabbed your phone, ignoring Aemond’s texts about meeting up in the coffee shop, and went straight for the number you had in your phone, it rang twice before she answered

“Godmother?”

“My sweet girl”, she answered, only that made you smile, and even with one word, she knew something was wrong, “what happened?”

“I need you”

“I’m on the next ferry out”, it's the only thing she answered

It was still going to take a couple of days, but only knowing she was coming, made you breathe a little easier

You just had to put up with Aemond a couple of more days…

Just a couple

Your phoned “dinged”, and when you checked it, you were pleasantly surprised to see that it was a text from Ben

You are my only success story in my career as a recruiter, wanna celebrate?

A bit of a flirt, but you smiled and texted back immediately, not time to waste you thought

Sure

The replay came as quickly as you texted back

Meet you at the bar at eight, we will eat something there

You: Great :)

Now, a text from Aemond came in, he wanted you to meet him in the library now, and you went there

For maximum effect, for you to really make an impact with your absence, you had to keep acting a few more days, and then, you were going to get out of his life for good… But Alys, you had asked her point blank is that kid was his, she was going to tell him you knew…

You found him in the tables near the end of the century old library, you frowned when you saw him with Criston Cole, a senior who was just a walking neon red flag

“My lady”, you evaded him like the plague when he leaned in to kiss you, and he didn’t say anything, but you saw his jaw tick, you sat by his side, and took out your art history book,a t least you were going to leave this joint with your head held high, you had an exam two days from now

“I heard you took classes with professor Rivers”, muttered Cole, a twisted smile on his lips and his default crazy eyes

“yes”, you responded, bored

“darling, are the flashcards ready?”, asked Aemond, and you looked at him like he had grown two heads

“I didn’t got time to make them you now, failing all those classes”, you muttered, and again, that look that told you were going to have a huge fight once you were alone

“No matter, you can help me prepare them later tonight”, he teased, winking at Crispin, I mean, Criston

“I can’t tonight”, that touched a button, he turned to you, angry dancing in his eye

“Why not?”, he asked

“I need to study”, you said, pointing at the book

“You are going to fail anyways”, he said, Cole got uncomfortable quickly, and stood up from the table

“I’ll leave you to it”

“Gee, thanks love”, you mocked, ignoring him

“That is not what I meant”, he muttered, “we always study together”

“I’m sorry”

“We haven’t had sex in a week”, he whispered, annoyed, which reminded you bitterly that you had tried to get checked for STD’s but the girl told you you needed three months (for one of them) to notice symptoms and they were not going to show up in the results

“Sorry, I’m on my period”

“You are not, I told you to take the pills…”

“Did you know they can cause me an aneurism Aemond?”, you asked, he only sighed

“You are fine”

“I don’t want to take them anymore”, for what? you only told your Gynecologist to prescribe them because of your active sex life, not because you needed them

“We’ll talk about it later”, he whispered

“I can’t later, I have to study, and then I’m meeting with a friend”

‘What friend?”

“Ben”

“The one from the other night? forget it”, he growled

You’d think he’d be glad, he could go and fuck your teacher, his baby momma, oh you wanted to throw up again

“He is just a friend, I’m pretty sure he is gay”, not true

“So? you are not going to that slum to drink with a guy you just met”

“There is going to be other people there”, you said, like, other patrons

“I said no”

“You are not my father, I’m not asking Aemond”, you said back, he only looked at you with a frown

“Why are you doing this tonight? I had a surprise for you”

“What surprise?”, you asked

“Involves a velvet box, and flowers…”, the gift he didn’t get to give you that fatidic night, “your favorite movie”

“Sorry, Ben is leaving tomorrow, besides, you just told me you need to study”, you reminded him, caught him, you thought

“Whatever, you want to seem desperate to that guy? go then”, he looked down at his book, his closed fist over the table

“Tomorrow we can meet up at the coffee shop and make the flashcards”, he dind’t answer, he barely looked at you, and you want to laugh on his fucking face

The silent treatment

Really?

normally you would beg and get on your knees, figurative and literally, to please him and make him forgive you for whatever you did wrong, but now you just got up, grabbing your book

He looked like he had been slapped looking up at you wide eyed, but you didn’t look back, you just turned and left, leaving him there, soaking in his own manipulation

You wanted an opening

For him to say something and you bite back

You didn’t have the momentum anymore

You just wanted to leave, you knew that if you confronted him, he was just going to manipulate his way out of it, he had you stringed up…

But you just find a sharp pair of scissors

It was going to take a while, but you were going to get yourself free, you knew it

Just a couple more days, your godmother was on her way, she was going to get you out of here

you walked hastily to your dorm, to find Maris there, that girl didn’t have much of a social life

“I don’t appreciate you treating me like a doorman”, she snapped in sight, “that came in for you”, she said pointing to your bed were a big envelope laid

“Maris, you know what? maybe Byron doesn’t pay attention to you because he can see the stick poking out of your ass”, you snapped, and she opened her mouth, enraged, “save it”, you snapped, “I don’t feel like killing a million neurons trying to wrap my head around what might get out of your mouth”, she shut up again, but you sighed, she might be a terrible roommate, but she wasn’t to blame, “relax Maris you know what that is?”, you asked pointing at the bed, “your ticket to a single room, its my Winterfell course catalog for the next semester”, and her face it up, “I’m out of here”

“Really? wait, Bbt what about Aemond?”, she asked then, wary, you grabbed your phone and didn’t even looked at the picture, and you show it to her

“IS THAT…? PROFESSOR RIVERS?”, she said, sickenly marveled

“You still think he is too good for me?”, she took the phone off your hand to look at the picture closely

Oh if only you saw her airdropping the pic to herself

“You need to send this to the dean and fuck them up”, she said with a wide, sick smile.

Oh how much you had thought about

The very next day you were looking through your phone and find it, you didn’t even remember taking it, you were probably in shock, and then you thought about show it to the dean… but you couldn’t

That picture was straight up porn, and Aemond was on it, Aemond came from a powerful family and not even the whole university could protect itself from the massive lawsuit the Targaryens could attack them with, and you, you took it, it was defamatory and gods know what else, you were a nail and they were a massive hammer, you didn’t even wanted to know what they could do to you.

“She could get fired”, you whispered simply

“So?”

“She could get in trouble”

“She is fucking your boyfriend!”, she said back

“Doesn’t mean I want to ruin her life”, you said, “he is the one who should get fucked up, he was my boyfriend, and if this picture gets leaked, the only one who is getting fired and ruined is her, while he is going to get high-fived until his arm falls off”

“She deserves it”, she said

“He also deserves it, and again, he won’t even get scratched”

“Yes if you send it to his pius mother”, she teased

“The stick up your ass is falling off Maris”

“Haha, very funny, send it”, she warned

“I just want to get out of here”

“Do it, but leave nothing in your wake, scorch the earth”, you only shook your head

They deserved each other, they deserved for them to fall on their own weight, you had made your peace.

And besides, Aemond had other things to face, his mother for example, King’s Landing’s first lady

Aemond had a very elite political pedigree, you see, his family was like royalty, generations and generations of the country’s leaders, mayors, senators, presidents… even it was said they descended from Kings many centuries ago. And that was just his father, and on his mother’s side was from the same caliber.

And you were from a famous family in the Crownlands, your family only in the last three generations before you had become famous for pioneering in the big silver screen, actors, directors, producers, new money, you’d think, creatives, artists… But the main reason that Alicent had allowed you to squeeze into her family, was your godmother.

She was Cerenna Reyne, married to the late Tywin Lannister, one of the three heirs to the greatest gold mine of the continent, childless, you were the closest thing she had to a daughter, probably her heir, people were welcomed to speculate. You wondered, but you wouldn’t ask, she hasn't told you.

Aemond had the pedigree, and you had the money to take him were he allegedly belonged

Cerenna and your mother were friends since the cradle, and she took you in when she and your father passed when you were little.

You ignored Maris who was getting a pedicure from herself, and dropped to your bed and opened the heavy package

It was your acceptance letter, with a letter from the dean himself, saying he was gladly going to receive you, and then the course catalog

You opened it and look through it slowly, enjoying every picture, every letter, the gray and navy blue colors

All of it

You even wanted to get a Jersey

You were so excited… and you couldn’t wait for you to face Aemond the last day, tell him to fuck himself, that the vacation to Casterly Rock were cancelled, and he could fuck himself

You were going to enjoy it

But when do things happen the way you wanted them to?

You met with Ben at the bar, you ate french fries, and drank beer. You had a great time, you learned he had a girlfriend, and he was a sophomore in an administrative degree, he was such a friendly guy, very appropriate, you felt good with him. It was a nice night, talking about Winterfell and how excited you were, and how cute the wolf mascot was and the fact you wanted to buy a plushie

Until a drunk fool spilled his pint all over you, drenching you

Ben Tallheart, was a gentleman, and offered you his Winterfell Jersey

And you had to make the walk of shame wearing another man’s jersey all over campus

Of course Aemond found out

And he almost threw your door down looking for you. You went out of your room to meet him, your patience running very, very thin

“...Now all the school thinks my girlfriend is a whore”, and that broke you, you pushed him out of your room where an entertained Maris was, and you put a finger on his chest

“You are the whore and don’t you ever talk to me that way again in your fucking life!”

it was done

You were done

You had imploded

“What?”, he sneered

“You are fucking my plastic arts teacher and she is fucking pregnant Aemond!”, he went pale, you honestly thought he was just going to drop dead

“Are you truly insane?”, he asked then, recuperating himself, he had politician’s blood after all, “why is a classmate texting me you had a panic attack in the bathroom? you are clearly not well”, he said, gaslighting at its finest

“I’m very well, thank you so much!”, you fought back, “I saw you Aemond, with my own eyes, you fucking her over her desk last week!”

“If you saw us, then why didn’t you say something? uh?”, he mocked

“because I’m leaving, and I was just going to disappear from your fucking life, because you don’t deserve anything from me Aemond! NOTHING!”, you spitted out

“You are psychotic”, he said back

“Oh, I’m the psycho one”, you mocked

“You have problems”

“You know, I don’t even care that you are fucking her or why, I just want to get out of this fucking island, this fucking school, this fucking bubble”

“You are going to drop everything, for this?”, he asked then, you thought you saw fear in his eye, but in a second it was gone

“Yes”, you said simply, bored of all this

“No”, he fought, “I was just a slip up”, he muttered, your discussion fell to whispers, in fears of all the dorms listening, “come on I can show you numbers of all students who fuck their teachers, its… a rite of passage”, he said dismissively

“what?”, you asked

“Yes, Its psychology, you see, she is a hot older woman, and we are still in our teenage years, it is normal one feels an attraction for a woman in the position of power, besides, she reach me, because she was concerned for you, and I was too, things escalated, it was a one time thing, the heat of the moment, it meant nothing… Maegor had his Tyanna, but also his Ceryse…”, was he seriously comparing himself to the second ever president of this country that had a first lady and a mistress?

“Aemond”, you called, frowning

“What?”

“Let’s play a game of hide and seek, alright? I hide, and you seek psychological help”, he only looked at you, a dead expression on his face, and then he exploded in a rage

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”, he almost screamed, “What the actual fuck is wrong with you??? YOU ARE IMMATURE, AND CHILDISH, YOU DON’T EVEN HEAR A WORD I’M SAYING”

“I don’t need to Aemond”, you whispered

“So what?”, he snarled, “you are going to leave?”

“Yes Aemond”, you whispered, “I’m going to leave, this school, you, and everyone on it”

“No”, he muttered, shaking his head, “no, after all of this? one single mistake and you're going to leave just like that?”, he asked

“Yes”, you said quietly, “I need to go Aemond”, now it sank in, and he looked at you, his eye open wide, his mouth barely open, surprise, even a bit of skepticism, innocence even

“Don’t go”, he said simply, “it will not happen again”

“It’s been going on for weeks, right? Maybe months…”

“No…”

“Don’t lie to me”, you snapped, “have the decency to be truthful”

“Two months”, he said, you barely nodded

“Goodbye Aemond”, you whispered, and you walked away from him and your dorm room

You knew he was not going to go after you, but you also knew he knew you, and he was going to let you “cool down”, like every time you had an argument

He knew you were going to “crawl back to him”

And you spend the next day abed, Maris let you be, barely talked to you and you appreciated it, and then, sooner than you expected… you heard a knock on the door, and then, it opened, you raised from your lethargy to see the dark brown locks of the most important person to you

“What do I have to do to get a drink around here?”, she asked out loud, she removed her dark sunglasses and looked directly at you, “my beautiful god given daughter”, she muttered looking at you in the bed

“Godmother”, you whined, tears in your eyes

A long shower and an hour later, you found yourself at the coffee shop with your godmother, sipping a skinny latte, her… you were an extra cocoa mocha with whipped cream on it. You wore proudly Ben’s Jersey he gifted you

You told her everything

in whispers and conspicuous looks

“Oh darling”, she whined, arranging a lock of hair behind your ear, “I will take you up there, alright?”, she offered with a wide smile, “I’ll take you myself to Winterfell University, the palace you should have gone to in the first place, and those colors looked wonderful on you, my beautiful girl”

“You don’t have to”, you said, smiling shyly, she sighed

“No I do, I mean, it's perfect timing, you see, that motherfucker’s father, Viserys is campaigning AGAIN to be the mayor of King’s Landing, AGAIN!”, she whined, and you couldn’t help but giggle, “and as always, he invited me, to be there in front row”

“How much money he wanted this time?”, you asked

“Too much”, she said seriously, “I know my husband’s fund he left me was for precisely political campaigning, but, everything has a limit”, she said dismissively, “so, instead, a Velaryon cruise sounds just, perfect”, she whined, “what do you say? two weeks in the narrow sea, a nice week in White Harbour, they say the spa’s there are to die for, and then, I’ll drop you off at Winterfell”, she said lovingly, “recharged after vacations, ready to start your new life, away from that inbred family of fuckers”, she whispered, caressing your cheek, you laughed

“I love that idea”, you said, she dropped a kiss in your hand she was holding

“I’ll be staying at the Golden Lion hotel, alright? you just finish your things here, and I’ll make some calls''

“I love you godmother”, you whispered

“And I love you too my sweet sweet girl”, she whispered, “they will get fucked, like they deserve”, it sounded like a promise

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt”

“They won’t”, she said, “only they will get what they are owed”, sometimes she scared you

The bells above the door dinged and when you looked up, there she was

Fucking boyfriend fucker

Her face was like a Valyrian tragedy when she saw you, pale as paper, you couldn’t hide your anger, rage, hate on her

She walked towards your table

“Can we have a word?”, she asked, looking at your godmother sheepishly

“No”, you said, “I have nothing to say to you”, you growled, she looked uncomfortable

“Please”

“Leave me alone or everyone on this school is going to see the picture of you fucking my nineteen year-old boyfriend in your desk in your classroom”, you threatened, and with tears in her eyes she left the coffeshop

You then looked at your godmother

“I want to leave now”, you said

“I’ll get help to get your things”, she said softly.

Afterchapter notes: I think I’m having the “walt disney complex”, almost none of my MC’s have parents… sorry :( sometimes I think it's easier, in this case, for an eighteen year-old to make this kinds of decisions and move across the country and paying for it haha, I think it's easier for reader to have a badass godmother, I have one and it's the coolest

taglist!: @mxtokko @princesssterek @thefandomimagines @iamavailablesstuff @misspascalpunk @sweethoneyblossom1 @ipostwhtifeel @lunamoonbby @ahristata

#misguidedneed #aemond targaryen x reader #cregan stark x reader #aemond targaryen #hotd modern au #college au #cregan stark #house targaryen #hbo house of the dragon

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slugsby-pt2 · 25 days

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my controversial (some of them) zero day headcannons:

Andre does not listen to music, he’s one of those fuckers. if the radio comes on and it’s not ear ruining, he’ll keep it on, but ask him who anybody fucking is, he’s not gonna know. He’s an old man trapped in a teenage boys body.

Andre is that one annoying kid who likes to play devils advocate in history/government class, we all know it.

for all my Rachel haters: Rachel was too much of a bhad bitch to be fucking cal’s loser ass.

cal absolutely stinks, like weed, fucking applesauce, and boy stink. This kid showers once his mom pushes his stinky ass into the bathroom and uses deodorant like laundry detergent

cal is not a cutter, from one cutter to another, I can’t see it. but andre though…..yall ain’t ready for that conversation

Andre is like most definitely straight edge and for no reason, not a religious thing at all, he just is. (drug/alcohol wise I mean, but dangle a little bit of this and that in his face, and it’s over).

Cal and Andre have always been loser freaks, the bullying whatever didn’t create them. It created that apathy for other human life. The violence and blood lust was always there.

Cal is literally the devil, something’s not right. Like sure Andre is obviously violent and scary, but Cals a chameleon that turns uncanny valley after a while.

Cal has a couple “friends”, people in band and what not, also Rachel, but Andre has none. Like at all, just Cal.

Cal is not some misunderstood depressive suicidal/homicidal, he’s definitely the reason why his family didn’t have pets, if you catch my drift.

Andre supremacy.

Andre definitely was obsessed and in love with Cal, but internalized homophobia made him die a virgin.

Even if it was to happen, cals too depressed to get it up anyway (hi dylan!!!!!)

#zero day 2003 #zero day #andre kriegman #cal gabriel #cal and andre #caldre #it’s canon fuck u and suck my massive dick about it #I watched the movie in an entirely different and special way than any of you and you need to accept it #I’m kidding kind of but I’m right about the other stuff

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blooming-violets · 2 months

Note

Nicest Thing Peter x Reader for 11. In joy? I really like that fic. I reblogged it on my old account. I feel like thats an underrated fic of yours (maybe bc it came out in 2022? Idk). Would love to see what happened to them!

It's still one my favs because it is just so...me?? Like if I had to chose anything that represented my personality perfectly, it would be Nicest Thing. Just a depressed, sad bitch who loves angst and Peter Parker and enjoys Kate Nash. I feel like I need another Kate Nash song for this "sequel" fic. I'll base it off her song Trash because these two are trash for each other.

You can read this as a separate, on its own Peter x Reader thing if you'd like or you can read it as a future piece to Nicest Thing.

Warnings: Smoking a joint and getting stoned

If porn bots can over take all the tags then I better not get flagged for these gifs.

Peter looked at her through blazed out, squinting eyes. A haze of smoke filled their bathroom as they passed the joint back and forth between them. They were seated in the unfilled tub, fully clothed, and facing each other. She had made him take the spot next to the faucet under the claims that sitting over the drain made her feel “icky” like she might get sucked in. He didn’t mind. Even if their leaky faucet kept dripping cold water over his shoulder.

“Do you remember the Rugrats episode when Tommy and Chuckie are afraid of getting sucked down the bathtub drain because Angelica tells them a story of some other baby who died that way?” He asked, handing her off the joint.

She placed it between her lips and he watched with a slow blinking, admiration for her. He loved her. She had been with him through everything. He owed his entire life to her. Without her in his life, he would no longer be here. She was everything important in the world.

She smiled, remembering, and let out the most beautiful laugh. She always got extra giggly when they smoked. It was one of his favorite sounds.

“Don’t they fill the drain with play-doh and shit? It’s a weird reddish, pink color. Why do I remember that specific color so much?” She replied, mystified.

Peter chuckled, “Because old school Rugrats was filled with some crazy ass imagery. It sticks in your mind.”

“Yeah but I remember thinking that I specifically wanted to eat that color...like maybe it would taste nice…like the imaginary food from Hook.” She passed it back to him, letting the smoke exhale in a little, circular puffs from between her lips.

“Do you want to get into a pretend food fight with me and see if anything appears?” He grinned.

Her red rimmed eyes squinted back at him as she laughed, “With the way these munchies have been hitting me the past few minutes, I think it might actually happen. I could imagine food hard enough to make it show up.”

His mind started to wander as a hungry smile spread across his face, imagining all the food he could eat, and he spoke with a dreamy whisper, “Pizza bagels.”

“What?”

“Let’s make pizza bagels. ‘M hungry. Starvin’. Gonna die if I don’t get some food in me.”

Her eyes glowed with excitement at the idea, “Pizza bagels. Yes, you’re a genius!”

“I know,” he giggled, it bubbled out of him without any self control. It wasn’t the weed that did it. It was her. He felt free when he was with her. He flicked out the joint against the ashtray balancing on the edge of the tub. “I really am. Smartest man alive, probably.”

She snorted, “Okay, I wouldn’t go that far. Get your ego in check, Parker, before I have to slap some sense back into you.”

He beamed at her, his love consumed him, feeling it outshine every other emotion rattling around inside of him. She was beautiful. Stunning. Picture perfect. He wanted to hang her up on his wall like an expensive piece of art so he could admire every day of his life.

Her shoulders shrunk up to her ears under the intensity of his gaze.

“Stop that,” she whispered. “Don’t look at me with those eyes or I’ll kick you. I’ve got a perfect aim for your crotch in this position.”

Peter shook his head, “Nope, sorry, I refuse. I can’t help it. You look…perfect. The nicest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“You’re stoned.”

“Yes. Doesn’t change the fact that your lips look very enticing.” He winked at her and tried to scoot forward to get a taste.

Her socked foot landed against his chest, pushing him back in place, “I thought we were making pizza bagels, not kissing. Weren’t you just starving a minute ago?”

“Starving for you, maybe.”

“Peter!” She let out a loud laugh, keeping him at bay with her outstretched leg.

He was so in love. Completely enamored. Whipped. Head over heels. Trash for her. Whatever he wanted to call it. He belonged to her so wholly. His bleeding heart was in her hand for the rest of his life. He would follow her to the ends of the earth and back again.

“If you don’t let me kiss you right this very second, I am going to turn this shower on.” His hand reached over his shoulder to grip onto the shower knob with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

She gave a sharp inhale, “You wouldn’t dare.”

His eyebrows raised, taking on that challenge, “Oh really?”

She knew she fucked up the second before the shower burst to life. From his position in the tub, it shot over his head to spray directly into her face. She shrieked and fell back, sliding down the sloped edge of the tub until she was nearly on her back.

It was all the opportunity he needed to pounce. He leapt on top of her to the sound of her laughter and blocked the shower stream from her face with his back. His arms wrapped protectively around her head as he laid over her. Water pooled around them, warming their bodies, and soaking through their clothes.

They didn’t feel it.

All he could feel was the devoted love burning a hole in his chest where his heart used to be.

She giggled up at him, blinking water droplets from her eyes, and whispered, “You’re an ass.”

He laughed in response and crashed his lips over hers, mumbling against them, “You love me.”

She sighed in content. Her arms snaked around his neck to draw him closer, melting happily into his kiss.

“I do.”

#i will take every opportunity to stick this man in a tub or shower #andrew garfield #tasm #tasm x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter #tasm peter x reader #tasm fic #tasm peter fic #tasm peter parker fic

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elspethdekarios · 2 months

Text

Random Gale Dekarios Headcanons

Hello I'm just thinking about That Man again

These are all SFW and just mundane life-after-tadpole thoughts.

Gale's home is clean but he is messy. The dishes are done, scented candles are lit, linens are laundered, but my man's got shit everywhere. Parchment, books, and quills are scattered in the areas he finds himself working in most often. Potion bottles in disarray. Random trinkets throughout the house. Grooming products cluttering the bathroom sink. He's very diligent about making his bed every morning, though.

Once he and tav have settled down post-game, his favorite thing to do is surprise them with breakfast in bed. He gets up extra early and goes all out on creating a tray of food--making their favorite tea, eggs exactly how they like them (extra butter, though, always), pancakes or some sort of pastry he can whip up quickly, and a vase holding a flower plucked from the window planter. He does this at least once a tenday.

Gale was worried his tower would be in the same depression-mess state as he left it once he brought tav home. He spent the journey home apologizing in advance for the disarray and promising that he's not a slob, he swears, it was just a difficult time. Tav, of course, assures him that there's no need to apologize, and that they'll help him clean the place up once they get there. Once they arrive, he cringes as he opens the front door, only to be taken aback by his home looking perfectly normal and clean. A grin spreads across his face as Tara stretches from her cushion in the window. ("Honestly, Mr. Dekarios, did you think I'd continue to live in such a state?")

He carries around a small portrait of tav in his pocket. Origin of this hc here lol

I know in the epilogue, the orb and all traces of it are completely gone, but I like to think that it left a scar. In certain lighting you can see that it's not just on his skin like a tattoo, but it's almost carved into his flesh, like a scar. I'm sure Mystra could smooth the skin where the orb was like it never happened, but we all know she's a petty bitch, so I think it's reasonable to think she could have taken the scar away, but chose to leave it as a reminder of Gale's mistake. The dark, weaving swirls have turned pale pink and translucent. Tav likes to mindlessly run their fingers over it while they lie in bed at night.

Speaking of, you cannot tell me the orb doesn't leave Gale with some sort of chronic pain, even after it's cured. I'm sure it's not as intense as the arcane hunger he felt before, but there are bound to be days where he's just very lethargic or dealing with lingering pain/discomfort similar to what he felt before the orb was dormant.

On a lighter note--he always has music playing in his home. Whether it's the piano in his study or an enchanted lyre he's charmed to float around in the kitchen as he cooks.

#gale #bg3 #gale headcanons #text

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royaltozaki · 7 days

Text

could you love me while i hate myself?

synopsis: y/n, nayeon, momo, and sana are in a polyamorous relationship. momo walks in on y/n self-harming for the first time in 7 months. they all try and talk and work through this together.

warnings: we got depression, suicidal ideation, self-harm (cutting), blood, sexual references, cursing - also this is poly!namosa if ur not into that but i love getting comfort from everyone i love so

w/c: 6.9k

a/n: sooo i wrote this in a day bcs im utilising my #depression as inspiration and lwk we love writing as a coping mechanism - i’m so fine tho i just need my meds to start working again LMAO and they will vvvv soon trust - but in the meantime i can pump out the sad stuff hehe! lwk forgot abt boo and dobby until like halfway thru writing this IM SO SORRY #fakefan and i wasn't bothered to write them back in so they js don't exist here oops!

⸸

fuck. fuck fuck fuck. the thoughts were coming. you wake up hazily, dream forgotten, arms wrapped around nayeon, legs entangled with the three people you loved most in the world. you don't deserve them. shut up!

you shut your eyes, trying to will away the thoughts. they were always there, always in the back of your head, always nagging, telling you that you didn't deserve to live, that you were a worthless piece of flesh born only to cause others suffering, or born with no purpose at all. there's no point to it all. just die. they'd be better off without you. they'd be happier without you.

you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. it was so loud. you needed them to be quiet. to return to the depths of your mind. you curl in closer to nayeon, trying to breathe in the scent of her to distract you, feeling sana's breath on your hand, listening to momo's soft snores, they were the only thing grounding you. they pity you. that's why they've stuck around for so long. they know if they left you you'd break. they don't love you. it's pity. they'd be happier together. just the three of them. they didn't need you. you needed them. you were a burden to them. you need to leave so they can be happy. you want the best for them don't you? SHUT UP.

you couldn't take it anymore, you slowly unwrap yourself from your girlfriends. slipping your arms from around nayeon's waist and pulling your legs away from the mess of limbs. you look back at them, sleeping peacefully, watch their chests rise up and down with each breath, it's bittersweet. you had so much love for them. you turn around again and slip out the door, closing it softly behind you.

you pad softly towards the bathroom, entering it quietly and sighing, looking at yourself in the mirror. dark circles under red eyes, messy hair, disgusting. look at you. how could anyone love you? the thoughts were louder in the bathroom. almost echoing off crisp white walls. your grip on the sink tightens, you tear your gaze away from the mirror, letting your tears fall into the sink silently. why did i have be born like this? born like this? honey you're not different. everyone else is able to cope fine with trauma, with all the shit that happens in the world. you're just weak. weak, crying little bitch who can't deal with a couple sad emotions. don't think you're special. you're not. why can't i feel normal? you're not normal. you never will be. you'll always be that weird kid on the playground that no one wants to play with. grow up and get used to it already. why won't you leave me alone? i can't leave you alone. i am you. you are me. we're stuck together.

your head's splitting, you don't even realise you're crouched in on yourself now. hands gripping your head, nails digging into your scalp, anything to try and stop thinking. you wish you could just go back to sleep. sleep was easy. you didn't have to think when you were asleep.

that's right. sleep. sleep forever. run away from your problems. that's all you'll ever be good at right? running away. you ran away from your parents when they found out you were dating not one, not two, but three girls! whore! you left your brother and sister with them. they probably got the brunt of their anger. or maybe not. maybe they hate you too for being a fucking disappointment. it doesn't matter. they don't care about you. you left them. now leave your girlfriends. it'll be easier. leave. leave. run. do it.

your lip is trapped between your teeth. you're biting down so hard it draws blood. you're rocking yourself on the floor of the bathroom. pathetic. all you do is cry. grow up already. you can't take it. it was too much. you needed- needed-

you're reaching for the loose tile you know is second from the towel rack, opening it and finding your stash of emergency goods. you had meant to throw it away you just kept avoiding it and now... well you needed it now.

you take out a scalpel, go into the old routine of cleaning it down with an alcohol wipe, the motions that are familiar to you helping you drown out the thoughts already. they're still there though. they were always there. you'd be lonely without us wouldn't you? you actually enjoy being mentally ill don't you? take some sort of sick pleasure in it? is it comforting? it's easy to fall back into old habits isn't it?

once it's clean, you can see clearly again. you remove your pants, spreading your legs and look down at the scars that decorate the insides of your thighs. you take a breath, clearing your head as best you can, and bring the tip of the scalpel to start a new line.

the immediate relief when the blade enters your skin and you watch the scarlet liquid pour out of you is incredible. you're like an addict, drinking in the pain and using it to clear your mind. suddenly, the only sound you hear is the quiet of the bathroom and your own shallow breathing. you've never felt more at peace.

but it's only temporary. like everything is only temporary. seriously? this again? is this the best you can do to try and get rid of me? we talked about this you idiot. you're never getting rid of me. because we're the same. you just made yourself even uglier. congrats. good luck getting your girlfriends to ever touch you again after they see those.

fucking hell. you can't help it when your hands move to the start again, just under the new line you've created. you're about to push in again when you hear a gasp.

you look up in alarm, bloody scalpel in your hand, fresh cut on your thigh.

"m-momo."

"y/n- what-"

"it's not what it looks like i swear- fuck- oh my god- mo- please-" you're scrambling, trying to pull up your pants and cover yourself, dropping the scalpel onto the floor with a clang.

she's on you in seconds.

"no no sweetie it's okay i'm not- it's okay it's okay-" she's pulling you into a hug, and you start sobbing.

you're burrowing your head into her neck, sniffling and crying, she wasn't meant to find out. they were never meant to find out. now you've done it. good luck keeping them now. no way they're going to stay with you after this. better breathe her in while you can because she won't be yours in the morning.

you're squeezing her tight, crying and blabbering into her and she lets you. hushing and brushing through your hair, pressing light kisses along your forehead.

when she starts to pull away you panic, shaking your head against her, terrified she's leaving you and this is it.

"no sweetie i'm not going anywhere. i promise. we just gotta clean you up okay?"

she pulls away from you gently, opening the cabinets next to the sink to grab the first aid kit and comes down to sit next to you.

you're sobs have ceded but you can't bear to look at her, staring down at the ugly scars on your legs.

"can i?" momo makes a gesture towards your legs and you shrug, moving closer to her so she can work.

she's quiet when she cleans the wound, focused.

you idiot you stupid fucking idiot. she hates you she thinks you're so gross and-

"do the others know?"

you don't trust your voice to speak so you shake your head.

"is this why you never let us touch you?"

you blush bright red, gripping the bottom of your shirt.

"you know we wouldn't have judged right?"

the tears are coming back, you feel them building up in your neck again, clogging it up, choking you.

"i'm sorry if we made you feel like we would have." momo's voice breaks then, and you look up. momo wasn't one to cry. sana tended to be the more emotional one, nayeon and momo cried too, just less often and definitely more private, momo just took a little longer to come to conclusions sometimes.

"y-you didn't." your voice is croaky when you speak up.

she sniffles a little, finishing cleaning and grabbing the bandages.

"a-are you mad?"

she sighs. "not mad. just... confused."

"i-i- i'm sorry. i'm sorry i didn't tell you guys i didn't- i thought you would think- i thought you might leave or think i'm too much or i don't know i-"

she finishes wrapping the bandage around your thighs, looking up at you then, her eyes shiny. "i could never leave you y/n. i love you. all of you. you, nayeon, and sana are my family."

you're crying again now, hands coming up to wipe at your tears. she gently helps you put your pants back on then pulls you into another hug, breathing shakily as she lets herself cry as well.

you cling onto her shirt, the confirmation that she was still here and she still loved you grounded you.

you both sit on the bathroom floor there, tightly wound around each other. you memorise the way her breathing comes in and out, focusing on the little hiccups, every single movement. it was quiet.

she pulls away from you, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, thumbs swiping along them. "do you want to talk about it?"

you shake your head.

"do you want to come back to bed then?"

you think a little, "i might sleep in the guest room tonight. i don't really... it's not that i don't want to sleep with you guys, i just-"

"is it okay if i join you in the guest room then?"

you look surprised, "why?"

"it's okay if you don't want me to. i just want to be with you if that's okay. to make sure you're safe for one, but also just because..." she sniffs, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear gently, "i love you and i want to make sure you sleep well."

the tears well up again. "of course. it's not you i just- i don't want sana and nayeon to find out like this."

momo nods, pressing a gentle kiss onto your nose, "i understand. do you want anything before bed? water? a snack?"

you smile tiredly against her, still in a sort of disbelief she was still here. "i'm okay. let's go to bed."

momo nods again, standing up and pulling you with her, but she stops again suddenly, looking down, "does it hurt?"

you wince, "not really. i mean the point is kinda for it to hurt." your eyes widen when momo frowns, "but it doesn't! not anymore i mean. i kinda got used to it." her frown deepens, "i mean no not like that! like- well yes- but-"

"it's okay y/n. i want to know these things. if you're okay with sharing them." she's sincere when she looks at you, and then she's pulling you along towards the guest room. your heart drops a little when you pass by the master bedroom, thinking of nayeon and sana sleeping peacefully inside, wrapped around each other blissfully unaware, but momo squeezes your hand and you look back towards her, following her into the guest room.

she turns on the lamp light and starts removing all the extra pillows and everything that were only really there for decoration. once she's done, she starts ushering you into bed and you laugh a little at her earnestness, "you don't have to treat me any different momo. i'm still the same person."

she frowns, climbing into bed after you, "i just found out about a massive part of your life that you've been hiding from us. you're not the same person to me. not when i've only known half of you."

you still at that, unable to look her in the eye as she fumbles around with the blanket, covering both of you and then sliding an arm over your side.

"i'm sorry." you whisper once she's turned off the light and snuggled in close to you.

she takes a breath, "you don’t have to be sorry. i'm here now. i'm sorry it took me so long. but i'm here now. and i'm not leaving."

"even if i'm not the same person to you anymore?"

she finds your eyes in the darkness, "y/n i didn't mean it like that. i fell in love with half of you. i just found out there's another half that i can also love now. you're the same person, you just have more to you than we knew. and i want to know more about that so i can be a better girlfriend for you."

"you already are a great girlfriend."

she sighs, a hand trailing down your back, drawing random shapes, you curl in closer to her.

"i wanted to throw it all away. i wanted to tell you all. i just-"

she hums, letting you think out your words, continuing to trace patterns into your back, eyes locked on yours.

"it was hard. and i didn't think i'd need to say anything because i was doing good. i hadn't done it in so long. i don't know why today i just- i lost control again."

"y'know nayeon would say just because you haven't done it in so long doesn't mean you were better. it just means you stopped thinking about it but that didn't get rid of the problem. which is why eventually the problem came back."

you smile at her, poking her cheek, "you've been hanging out too much with nayeon."

momo whines, "we're girlfriends! of course i hang out with her!"

"you're right though. i'm sorry. i stopped cutting when we all started dating. i think i got swept up in all the excitement and the love but once the novelty wore off and i grew more comfortable with being in a relationship with all of you, some of the bad thoughts started to come back."

"what sort of bad thoughts?"

"...like that i'm not good enough for you- or that the three of you would be happier without me, or that i don't want to... that i didn’t deserve to live or that it’d be better if i wasn’t- y’know… alive-"

you can see the shine in momo's eyes and feel your own start to well up again while you talk. she lets you speak though, just lays there, stroking your back softly while listening to you.

when you're finished its quiet save for the occasional sniffle from either of you.

"do you still think that? that you're not good enough for us?"

you hum contemplating whether to be honest or to try not to hurt her, you decide you’ve hurt her enough and it was time to be honest, she was still here after all, she wasn’t going to leave you, "...yeah."

she's pressing her lips gently against yours, barely there, almost as if she's asking permission, and you press against her softly back to say yes. you can taste the salt of her tears in the kiss, its short, reassuring. you break away with a tender smile.

"i can't speak for the others. but i don't think we could work if we weren't the four of us. you know that sana and i tried to date when we were younger right? and it didn't work out? because we always felt like there was something missing. but once we all got together, it feels right to love each other like this. i think it'd be the same if you left. i think it'd feel like something was missing and i wouldn't be able to stay either. i'm not saying that to pressure you into staying like a 'if you leave i leave' kinda thing. i'm just saying that you are needed in this relationship and i don't think we would be happier without you, i don't even think we'd work without you, without any one of us."

god you didn't deserve her. you loved her so much.

"and the other stuff... we don't have to talk about that now but... if you're open to it in the future, i want to help you find some outside help if that's okay? you don't have to answer me now, just think about it, because i want to help, but i don't think we can do this alone."

you nod, lips quivering while she smiles at you, noses touching.

"thank you momo."

"of course sweetie. i love you."

"i love you too. so much."

she pecks you again, then places your hand over her chest, and you can feel the calm thumps of her heart.

she closes her eyes, lips only centimetres apart, you follow her lead, focusing on the feeling of her heartbeat rather than the thoughts, letting that fill your head, and slowly, you drift back into sleep.

⸸

you wake up with a dull sting on the inside of your thighs. you curse internally when you realise that it was because you had self-harmed for the first time in months. but then you feel a familiar hand tracing lines down your back, and the smell of soft peaches and you recall that momo had found you cutting yourself. but the way she's tracing your back means she's still here and she hasn't left and that you're still okay.

momo realises you're awake, moving her hand to your hair and brushing the pieces that have fallen over your face. "hi sweetie."

"mm morning. what time is it?"

she giggles a little, "its 5pm actually. i didn't want to wake you. nayeon and sana should be back home soon."

you startle, "what?! 5pm?! where did they go? did they-"

"shh shh no it's okay. i woke up early and made everyone breakfast. when they came in they asked where you were. i told them you slept in the guest bedroom because you weren't feeling well. they wanted to see you but i told them to let you rest. i don't think you should hide this from them for much longer though y/n."

you sigh, relaxing back into her embrace, "i know. i'll tell them when they get back." you can feel the anxiety beginning to chip away at you as soon as the words leave your mouth. you'd thought about it before in the past, about how they'd react. on the worst end of the spectrum, they'd leave you, thankfully momo hasn't done that yet. and realistically you don't think nayeon and sana will either. but there was always that fear in the back of your head. it was more likely that sana would feel hurt and start crying and nayeon would get angry that you didn't trust them with the information. both of which you didn't really want to deal with because you didn't want to cause any of them any negative emotions. but if you didn't tell them, it would mean forcing momo to keep a secret for you and have her constantly go around on tip-toes while worrying over you. it wouldn't be fair and you’d essentially be self-sabotaging your own relationship.

momo breaks you out of your thoughts when she uses her hand to rap lightly against your forehead, "what's going on in there sweetie?"

you shake her off giggling and she smiles, "nothing i'm just thinking about how to tell them is all."

"do you want me to be there?"

you look up at her, her eyes are sincere and caring, you could stare into them for the rest of your life, "yes please, if that's okay with you."

momo squeezes you against her even tighter, planting a kiss on your forehead and murmuring against it, "of course it's okay with me. i'd love to be there."

you smile against her, reminded of your eternal gratefulness and love you have for her, before your stomach starts to growl and you pull away embarrassed while momo starts to laugh that adorable, contagious laugh of hers.

you whine, climbing out of bed as she toddles along behind you, still laughing when you enter the bathroom.

you pick up your toothbrush and start to brush your teeth when you notice that the bathroom's been cleaned up since last night. there's no more blood on the floor and you look briefly over at momo who's standing on that tile looking at you carefully, the hint of a laugh still on her face.

"youscdonthaftawatchmeyknow."

she giggles when some toothpaste dribbles out of your mouth, tilting her head indicating she didn't catch what you said.

you spit out the toothpaste and repeat yourself, "you don't have to watch me y'know."

"i know."

you squeeze some of your facial wash into your hand, staring at her in the mirror when she doesn't move, still looking at your reflection with a gentle smile.

you shrug, closing your eyes and beginning to wash your face. you go through all the motions of your morning routine, and when you finish up and turn around to wipe your hands on the hand towel, she's still standing there watching you.

you clear your throat, leaving the bathroom and moving towards the kitchen. you hear her footsteps padding along behind you.

she overtakes you once you reach the kitchen, going towards the fridge and pulling out a few things. you sit at the kitchen benchtop and watch her reheat a few dishes that she must have made for breakfast and lunch.

"where did nayeon and sana go?"

"to the shops. we were meant to go check out that new bakery together in the city but i figured may as well let you rest, we can go another day."

"oh crap i'm so sorry i forgot! i would've woken up i'm so sorry-"

"it's okay sweetie don't worry. they were both fine to reschedule, they were more concerned about you than missing out on the bakery."

"why didn't you go out shopping with them?"

"i wanted to stay home with you."

"i was asleep."

momo hums, taking the food out of the microwave, "i didn't mind. here." she sets a bowl of sundubu jjigae in front of you and then goes to scoop out a bowl of rice from the rice cooker as well. you spent a lot of the last 24 hours crying but you can't help the tears that well up in you again at the smell. this was one of the first dishes momo made for the four of you when you moved in together.

"do you want me to feed you?" momo's joking as she slides the bowl of rice over, but when you look up at her and she realises you're crying she quickly panics, "i mean i can! if you want!" she's frantically rummaging for a spoon and scooping out some rice and stew and holding it out to you.

you laugh, wiping at your eyes with your sleeve, adoring the way she tilts her head like a confused puppy in bewilderment, a small pout appearing on her lips.

you lean up and take the spoonful into your mouth, chewing and swallowing before leaning across to peck her on the lips. "i just love you is all you idiot."

momo blushes and you take the chance to grab the spoon from her and start eating the meal yourself.

she pouts and is about to whine when you both hear the door open, the telltale sign of keys jangling and the happy chattering of your other two favourite people in the world.

"momo! we got that ice cream y/n likes but i still don't think it's a good idea for her to eat it if she's sick!" nayeon's yelling from the door, probably taking off her shoes and you can hear a short squeal and something crash followed by laughter and you know sana has probably knocked something down or fallen over.

you raise your eyebrows at momo who shrugs and grins sheepishly, grabbing nayeon and sana's mugs and filling them with water.

when they come into the kitchen all loud and giggles its a sight for sore eyes. nayeon's kissing momo hello and setting the bags of shopping they have down. sana rounds the corner with more bags and that infectious smile. you loved all of them so much.

nayeon spots you first, frowning and walking over to you immediately, placing the back of her hand on your forehead. "hey baby, sorry to hear you weren't feeling well last night. are you feeling better now?"

you blush, nodding your head, your mouth still full of food.

sana's next to bound over to you once she's kissed momo in greeting as well, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head, "we missed you today. i got you this top i think would be really cute on you though! and momoring we also got you one of those draw-on shirts but we thought we could turn it into a date or something so we have four!" she's rummaging through her bags, producing items of clothing and talking about each one with her endless energy.

you swallow your food and look up at nayeon who has a fond smile on her face while watching sana, when she notices you looking at her she smiles and leans down to brush her lips against yours.

"wait... you're not sick with anything contagious are you...?"

"what if i was?"

she's squealing, running behind the counter before momo laughs and hands her the mug of water she filled and urging her to drink it. she also passes sana her mug who kisses her again in thanks.

you hum in content, happy to be around the people you loved most. its almost as if... they'll leave you. you don't deserve them. this is all temporary. don't get comfortable. you clench your spoon a little tighter, trying to will away the thoughts as you shove another spoonful into your mouth, focusing on the taste and the love behind the person who made it for you.

"-and i almost fell into the fountain and she just stood there and laughed at me!"

look at them enjoying themselves. you’re the odd one out. the one who’s about to break everyone’s happy mood.

you can make out nayeon's cackle, "in my defense! it was pretty funny! you had all your bags and everything and you threw your phone at that little boy!"

"wait sana you did what?"

you should just leave. leave them. look how happy they are without you. all you bring is sadness and anger. you can’t give them anything they’d want. what could you offer them?

"momoringg!! don't join her in this! he pushed me!"

"yeah because you were trying to steal his girlfriend!"

useless. hopeless. there’s nothing you can do. you can’t get anything right. not your job, not your friends, they’ll realise soon enough you know? that they’re better than you. that they’re too good for you. then it’ll be them leaving you. do it first before they realise that and break your heart.

"i was not!"

"that definitely sounds like you actually."

"y/n! you're on my side right?"

you look up in a daze, confused at what the context of the conversation was. "sorry?"

momo's frowning, trying to meet your eyes but you avoid her, looking at sana who's pouting, "were you listening? are you okay y/n?"

"y-yeah sorry i was just- just thinking about something. can you tell me the story again?"

suddenly sana's all in your space, basically climbing into your lap and cupping your cheeks with her hands, squinting at you. "what were you thinking about?"

you blush immediately, "oh y-y'know, just work."

"work's more important than me?"

"no sana i didn't mean it like that i'm sorry. of course work isn’t more important than you. can you tell me the story again? i'll listen this time i promise."

sana hums, nudging her nose against yours gently, "i'll tell you if you tell me the truth."

"what truth?" you feign indifference.

you can tell nayeon is looking at momo, asking for an explanation with her eyes but momo shrugs, turning away and going towards the sink to do the dishes.

"we've been together for 7 months y/n. and i've known you for much longer than that. i can tell when you're lying honey."

you gulp, clutching the spoon tighter with your hands when you feel someone else, nayeon, unwrap your fingers gently and take the spoon away, interlocking your fingers with hers instead.

you stand up quickly, unable to be interrogated at such close distance anymore. sana looks a little hurt when you do, pouting but letting you go. you look at nayeon who's eyeing you with a concerned curiosity. momo still has her back to all of you with the tap on but you can tell her shoulders are tense.

you rub the back of your neck in nervousness, avoiding all of their gazes. "u-um... i actually kinda... have something i needed to talk to you all about..."

you can feel the anxiety ramping up, the adrenaline and urge to run away pumping through you, your palms beginning to sweat.

momo saves you when she turns off the tap and wipes her hands clean, "let's all go to the living room and have some ice cream and we can talk about it yeah?"

you smile at her gratefully and she returns it, grabbing the ice cream nayeon and sana just brought back and a few spoons and bowls.

nayeon and sana exchange looks of confusion but help momo bring the utensils over and eventually you're all sitting on your couch in the living room with the television on for some background noise so it wasn't too awkward.

you fiddle with your hands, not looking at any of them while the random sitcom you have plays in the background. momo notices and grabs a hand, intertwining your fingers and squeezing gently, reassuring you that she was there.

you take a breath, clearing your throat and looking up at nayeon and sana.

"so i- um- i don't really know how to say this-"

"it's okay baby take your time. it's just us right?"

"yeah we're not going to judge you honey. we're here for you whatever this is okay?"

you take a shaky breath in, mumbling incoherently to yourself before deciding, "u-um it's probably a bit easier to s-show you." you let go of momo's hand and start to undo the tie at your pants.

"um... y/n if all you wanted was sex i think there were other ways to-" momo slaps nayeon who yelps, rubbing her arm where she was hit mumbling a "what?" but momo shushes her and gestures back to you.

you stand up and drop your pants, immediately feeling the cool breeze against your naked legs, shivering a little and fighting the urge to cover yourself. you stare down at your feet when you hear the little gasps. you decide to start talking, refusing to look up, "i'm sorry i made momo lie to you. i wasn't sick last night. i woke up and started thinking some… not so great things and i needed it to stop so i- um- i went to the bathroom where i hid some of my old stuff and i um- well-“ you awkwardly gesture at your thighs before continuing, “momo woke up and found me after the first cut. i would’ve kept going if she didn’t find me. she helped me clean up and bandage it and then i asked to sleep in the guest room because i didn’t want to um- i wasn’t ready to uh- to tell you guys yet- i’m sorry for keeping this from all of you for so long.“

when you’re done, you risk a glance up, and find the three loves of your life, tears running down their faces.

sana’s the first to move, she gets up and practically jumps over to you, but she stops short right before you touch, “c-can i- c-can i hug you?”

you smile at her, feeling your own tears well up at the sight of your three girlfriends crying. “of course darling. i’m still the same. i still love cuddling with you.”

she doesn’t give you a second thought and buries her head into your neck, wrapping her arms around your waist. you realise you’re still standing in the middle of the living room with your pants down which is a little absurd but you wrap your arms around her, sagging into her a little when she squeezes. you can feel her soft crying and the tears wet your neck.

nayeon stands and comes around as well, a little hesitant but you look at her and offer a wet smile and she breaks, enveloping the both of you in her arms as well with a muted sob. momo joins in as well because of course she does, you look at her gratefully as she sniffles, fiddling a little with her fingers before coming around behind you and moulding herself to your back, hands coming around your waist and holding onto sana’s hands, giving them a squeeze for reassurance as well.

you're surrounded with all the love you wanted. so why do you still want to die? you don't listen to that voice, pushing it down and trying to stay in the moment. eventually, someone breaks away, and you awkwardly shuffle your pants back on, glad to be able to cover up your scars.

nayeon speaks up first, a hand still holding yours, squeezing gently, "how long have you been... y'know-"

"since before i met you. the thoughts started getting really bad when i was still in high school. and all the pressure with doing well and all the extra curriculars i was picking up, it just got too much. the only thing that worked was the pain. it got me through high school, and i started to rely on it. but then... the first time i slept with someone... she was appalled. i had almost forgotten the scars were there until my pants were off. she got scared off and i told myself i wouldn't let anyone else see this side of me."

"baby..."

"it's okay. it got better after i met you guys. and when we all started dating i stopped. i felt happy." you smile up at your girlfriends, tears still streaming down your face, "being with all of you made me forget those things. but they came back. and worse this time because- because i have so much more to lose now. i can't- i can't lose you-" you can't control the sobs when you break down again. pathetic.

the girls are surrounding you instantly, whispering reassurances, brushing through your hair, tracing shapes into your skin, you try and focus on your bodily sensations rather than your internalisations, try and focus on them.

"we'd never leave you honey... we're not complete without you, you believe me right?" sana's tilting your face up to meet hers, her eyes are watery, nose red.

"i'm trying to believe you."

she places her forehead against yours and closes her eyes, sighing slightly, "i'm going to tell you that everyday from now. that i love you and that i'm not going anywhere. until you believe me." she smiles and tries for a joke, "you're going to have to deal with clingy me for the rest of your life."

you let out a broken laugh, kissing her sweetly. "i love when you're clingy anyway."

she laughs as well, wiping at her nose.

you peek at nayeon. you know she has more questions, the frown on her face and the little pout she has breaks your heart. you reach a hand out to her, she takes it after some consideration, and you pull her into your lap.

"you can ask anything. there's nothing off limits. i'll try answer everything i can and i promise i'll be honest with everything. that goes for the both of you as well." you look over at sana who's moved to your side to allow for nayeon to sit on your lap, she's got a hand on the eldest's waist, playing with her shirt, her other hand on your shoulder.

momo moves to your other side, lifting nayeon's legs and placing them on her own, tracing her calves and brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

nayeon's biting her lip, you focus on the small mole under her left eyebrow.

"w-why didn't you tell us?"

you sigh, "i didn't really think i needed to at first. because i hadn't done it in so long. i thought i was better."

"is it because you thought you couldn't trust us?"

"no baby that's not it."

"why did you keep your old stuff hidden then? when we moved in together? a part of you must have thought you weren't entirely better."

you bring a hand up to caress her cheek, she leans into the touch. "you're right. i'm sorry."

"is it still here?"

you look towards momo for an answer and she nods, "i didn't want to throw everything away. i wanted you to make that decision on your own. i thought that if we forcefully got rid of your things you might just try and hide it from us the next time the feelings come up. it's there but i... i don't really like the idea of leaving you alone y/n..."

nayeon's squeezing one of momo's hands, "pretty baby's so smart. i'm thankful you found her momo."

you nod in agreement, "is that why you kept following me around?"

momo nods shyly, her eyes still wet.

"i'm okay with that. i don't- i don't really trust myself right now either. i think it'd be good if someone was with me. if that wasn't... a burden or anything of course..."

sana jumps in, "honey no. you're not a burden. i hope you don't think that about yourself. i love taking care of you. i'd love being able to be there for you while you get better."

you smile at her gratefully.

"what are some of the bad thoughts you have baby?" nayeon's bringing your attention back to her, you can tell she's struggling to formulate these questions. but you're glad that she's asking them.

"a lot of it is about you guys. because you're all the reason i'm still here today."

"what about us? what can we do sweetie?"

you shake your head, looking down at your hands which are quickly taken ahold of by momo and sana. "i guess it comes down to... wondering if you can still love me while i hate myself." your grip tightens around their hands.

"you hate yourself?" nayeon's voice is shaky now, she's trying her best to hold back her emotions, wanting to find out everything she can do for you.

you nod, tears dropping onto her pants.

"there's this song. i think- i think it might be easier to play that for you guys if that's okay? i'm not really- i don't really know how to talk about this..."

they nod and quickly try and find your phone. momo finds it and hands it over to you. you quickly unlock it and search for the song you're looking for. could you love me while i hate myself - zeph.

you press play, clicking into the lyrics and staring at them to avoid looking at your girlfriend's reactions. it's a short song.

could you love me while i hate myself?

could you love me though i don't deserve it?

could you love me like there's no one else

even though you know i can't return it?

could you love me when the water's rough?

or when i leave you in a desert?

could you love me, though i speak with knives?

knowing all to well that you'll get hurt

if you can't answer 'yes' just go

i'm more trouble than i'm worth

could you love me while i hate myself?

because i don't know how this works

i never learned how this works

when it ends, you awkwardly tap out of your app, putting your phone down.

"thank you for sharing that baby."

you hum.

nayeon takes a shaky breath in, then quietly asks, "is it okay if i sing for you?"

you're surprised, looking up at her, her eyes are red. you nod.

she closes her eyes, humming a note to start, taking a breath in again and steadying her voice.

i'll love you while you hate yourself

i'll love you because you deserve it

i'll love you like i love us together

until you're ready to return it

i'll love you when things get rough

no matter where you leave us

i'll love you even when you're

working out all your thoughts

i'll get hurt if it means

some of your pain comes onto me

i'll love you while you hate yourself

and we'll figure out how it works

together we'll learn to get better

when she finishes and opens her eyes, you're sniffling again, tears streaming out of your eyes.

sana's the first to speak up, bringing her hands up to wipe at the tears on nayeon's cheeks, "our little musical genius. of course you came up with a response exactly on pitch after listening to a song once."

nayeon lets out a broken laugh, leaning into sana's touch.

you meet her eyes, a bright smile gracing your face, and you probably look a little silly, wet cheeks and red nosed with tears still dripping out of you, but nayeon laughs again in relief, coming in and kissing you.

you kiss her back gratefully, trying to convey how much you loved her in your action. you can feel sana's hand on your arm and momo's fingers in your hair. you loved them.

the thoughts are still there. you think they’ll always be there. but you don’t have to take them on on your own anymore. it would take time, but the people you loved were going to help you through it. you needed to put some trust in them as well, trust that they wouldn't leave, trust that they loved you just as you loved them, you wanted to get better, for them and for yourself, you believed you could get better with their help, for now, that was enough.

⸸

an extra a/n bcs its important: hi! i recognise that all experiences are unique so i just wanted to say the descriptions here aren’t meant to be generalised and i didn’t intend to write any stereotypes or misconceptions and i apologise if i have - i try to draw upon my own experiences to be able to write - in saying that i hope that anyone who feels they relate to similar themes etc seeks the help they need from professional sources - my dms are open ofc but i am not a professional and it is best to speak to someone who can help you in real time and in physicality. stay safe love y’all practice some self care today if u get the chance! <3

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suguru-getos · 10 days

Text

fractures // geto suguru x f!reader // chapter 4

links: part 1 / part 2 / part 3

story summary: being a monkey is the norm except when you're captured by geto sama because he needs money from your parents. however, you may just have to suffer a little extra because of the forced thinking about the right and wrongs... you're putting him through. the affection you’re forcing him through…

chapter summary: only five more days left to finally be able to leave the geto estate, however with an environment so brutal & scathing… the reader is slowly losing her will to keep going, and her hopes with it.

warnings: depressed reader, geto is being a cunty bitch as always (but hes softened a teensy bit if you squint), trying to provide the resder comfort in his own way. degradation. not beta’d by me i’m a lazy ass bitch :33

you sat lonesome, devastated & absolutely crushed below the shower. the way the cold water drenched your hair, every hit of it against your skin reminding you of the fact that you were alive, still alive unfortunately. and will be alive, until geto suguru gets what he’s promised. the money. its been close to an hour and your skin has started to wrinkle apart, you are so lost in your thoughts that your mind forgets to register how cold you feel with the shivering. the white marble flooring of the bathroom against your bare bottom & the soles of your feet a constant reminder of the coldness.

“y/n.” a voice echoed from outside the expensive glassed sliding door of the bathroom. it sounds like a fake echo amidst the stormy thoughts you’re battling.

“Y/N!” the voice snapped louder, and you jerked at the shocking bellow. flinching and getting pulled from your mind to what’s real. “yes?” you answered meekly, getting up on your now wobbly feet with how long you had been sitting the same and twisting the shower nozzle to stop.

“just checking if you had died.” manami’s voice scoffs from outside the door, footsteps walking away from you and sounding delightfully fainter.

you want to kill everyone & yourself. these people were so beyond powerful that you didn’t know humans could… do that.

begrudgingly, passionately hatefully, you got up and wandered to wear clothes and apply any cream that could soothe your now dry & angry skin. that’s when you see the girls.

mimiko & nanako, peeking through the door and humming. “you are pretty.” one of them smiles, “shame you’re nothing but a monkey.” she pouted, the one with brown, whiskey-kin hair. you blink, unsure how to respond to something that sounded awfully unclear. “what do you mean when you say monkey?” you asked, sighing.

the girls invited themselves in, putting your food beside you. “geto sama wants you to eat.” the raven haired little girl numbly reiterated. you nodded, unsure why they respected the monster so much. then again, you also think he is insanely kind to everyone but you. oh how fun.

“funny he didn’t bring me an animal bowl since he called me a mutt.” you scoffed, you know the life within you brimming and enflamed could one day kill you. maybe it should. oh no… you’re starting to feel depressed. why else do you think so frequently that you should rather fucking die?

“mimiko, nanako, you both are excused.” the velvety hum of geto’s voice from the entrance of your door echoed. it sent instant chill in your spine, the color of blood & fear mingled into the reminding dark red that oozed from the word ‘monkey’. the girls listened to him as if he was all they ever had. conflicting, the tender tone he used for those teenagers was conflicting.

he walks in, hands in front with the gojo-gesa making him look even more majestic than he is. he is tall, bigger than you, and his cologne is perfect. you wondered if he dresses like this to hide the real him. the rotten, unemotional, sadistic bastard.

“did you like sleeping on the floor yesterday?” he hums, clearly in a mood to stab your barely healed psyche wounds. “yes, it was comfortable. i’m sure sleeping on the bed must have been quite uncomfortable.” your sarcasm is biting, you haven’t had a good sleep thanks to him. “get used to it, little mutt.” he shrugs, “get used to it until your pathetic parents can gather the money they are demanded.”

you sigh, right. money… “i am.” the fight within you is flickery, and you never know what might rub geto the wrong way & suddenly your whole body is chopped up. “you clean up bearable.” geto hums again, his eyes flickering towards how devastatingly gorgeous you look post shower.

“i know.” you respond again, waiting, bracing. he is here to hurt you anyway. he’s doing that everyday ever since you’re here. “the girls brought you food, eat.” he sounds demanding suddenly, breaking the chain of your vile overthinking.

“is it poisoned?” you snarkily replied. rolling your eyes. you have come to the delusional conclusion that this “geto” person wouldn’t kill you. until he has the money that is… that is the sole reason why your mouth hasn’t stopped.

suguru’s gaze almost softens, you look pale, having lost a lot of blood. he remembers how bruised your skin looked, and you look like you have easily lost a few pounds. he has come to a conclusion that he doesn’t like damaged goods. even when he’s returning them. that is a much better explaination than the other one that meekly whispers to his heart: he has a soft spot for a fucking monkey!

“it’s not. i am fully capable of stuffing that useless mouth full.” he answers, equal bite to his tone. oh his words scathe and burn you, but they do the same to him. they feel like branding on his skin. especially when the light in your eyes fades a little more at his sentences. you hesitantly take a bite, then another… and another. you didn’t know you were ‘this’ hungry, because you could swear the plates are finished in a few minutes. suguru feels a motherly joy upon seeing you like this, before he forcibly snaps himself out. “five more days, then you’re a free girl.” he hums, wanting to see the excitement in your eyes of finally ridding yourself off of him. to his surprise, there was none.

“if i am alive by then.” you hummed, there was no malice in your words, no ill-intent, no insight to piss him off. that’s what HURTS him. it feels like the wrath of a thousand suns is coming for him. you actually… feel that you wouldn’t survive.

for you, its because you want to give up. maybe kill yourself, maybe let him kill you. the idea of a ‘life’ after this whole ordeal seems draining. it would take so much to heal from it; and you’re becoming more and more unsure with every passing day.

suguru gets up, glancing your way once more. you are torturing him just by breathing. “if you had one last wish, what would it be?” he asks, partially to see any emotion apart from the numb on your face. be it fear.

you looked at him, “that you don’t tell my parents i’m dead. tell them i escaped & wouldn’t return.”

he widens his eyes, the frog in his throat unbearably tight. he clears his throat to sound the same distinct monotonous, unkind tone. “they should be happy their daughter is dead if you were to… stop… breathing.” he has to strain the last two words out of him. his jaw tightening.

“a-after all, what use are you to them? you are giving them stress while they try to collect money for you. to save you. and here you are, so okay with your demise.” there is a questionable vigor in his tone. as if he’s trying his best to stop you from killing yourself. “the only reason you’re still alive is because they promised the money.” and… not because suguru can’t bring himself to kill you. yeah, that’s it.

tears sting your eyes, your heart feels heavy. you don’t want to die either… you’re just tired god damn it! “what’s your full name?” you asked him, trying to deviate from the topic.

suguru is taken aback at that change, why do you want to know more about him? “geto suguru.” he hums, responding rather conceited.

“during sunset.” he begins again, unsure why he’s saying what he’s about to say. kicking himself for it. “the gardens… look exceptionally beautiful.”

you raised a brow, curiosity brinming within your bones. “if you don’t wish to die even one bit, a walk might help.” he gets up with that, leaving for the exit. before doing so, he stands at the entrance, “should you want to be a good daughter who is at least breathing when she meets her parents, i would be there in the gardens too. an unwelcomed and imposed company.”

you don’t have an answer to that. except a sigh of relief when he leaves, he didn’t hurt you today… until now. how relieving…

what you don’t know is geto is leaned against that very door, replaying this conversation over and over in his head like a stuck tape-recorder. almost choking at the way you were. maybe he needs to get back at it, killing annoying monkeys. that… should help?

#fractures geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto fluff #geto x you #geto angst #jjk angst #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk drabble #geto drabble #jjk geto

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n0vabug · 10 months

Text

Toxic

Summary: Maddy thinks the reader is cheating on her

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, Cassie being a bitch and flirting with the reader, slight mentions of drinking, etc. Words: 1.5k

THIRD PERSON POV

(Y/N) was a pretty quiet person, but could be very talkative if she was comfortable enough. (Y/N) had met Kat during their Freshmen year, they quickly became very close. As they got further into high school, they met more and more people and their friend group started to form. Kat, (Y/N), Lexi, Cassie, Maddy, Jules, and Rue. (Y/N) had set her eyes on Cassie Howard at first, they dated in their Sophomore year for about 3 months, but Cassie got really controlling and a bit crazy too. After that, (Y/N) went through a bit of a depressive episode, because even though Cassie was controlling and crazy, (Y/N) had still loved her. Maddy quickly noticed (Y/N) during this time, so Maddy decided to try and help her through this. Cassie was her best friend after all, so Maddy gave some great advice and became really close with (Y/N). After that (Y/N) developed feelings for Maddy and accidentally blurted it out once while she was drunk. Maddy mentioned it when (Y/N) was sober, and lets just say, it went great. They started dating the summer before Junior year and during Junior year.

It is Sunday, which was always when Maddy and (Y/N) hung out together, they usually went out to different places. Yes, every weekend, but both of them seemed to really love it and if one of them had a bad week, or just had any stress or something bad going on, that's when they would go to the other's house, and have a movie night with their favorite snacks and drinks, whoever was sad or stressed got to pick the movie they watched and got a lot of kisses and cuddles.

"(Y/N) come here!" Maddy yelled from the other side of the store. "Yes, Maddy?"

"You would look so good in this!" Maddy held up a dress, which in (Y/N's) opinion, was very ugly."1. I love you Maddy, but I hate that color. 2. Again, I love you, but I'm gonna be completely honest, that is really ugly."

"Ugh, whatever bitch, it would probably look better on me anyways." Maddy said jokingly, which made (Y/N) give Maddy a look of offense. "Chill out, I'm just joking." Maddy said, then giving (Y/N) a quick peck on the lips.

(Y/N) and Maddy walked around the mall, with their hands intertwined the entire time, until they finished going inside every store that looked appealing to them. As they were about to walk out, Maddy spoke up, "Okay so like I really need to pee, I'm going to find a bathroom before I get a UTI." (Y/N) chuckled at this and just waited for Maddy outside the bathroom. While standing there, (Y/N) thought she had seen a familiar face walk inside a store. The familiar face being Cassie Howard along with her younger sister, Lexi Howard. It was rare for them to get along like this to the point where they actually did stuff together without their friend group, but it happens sometimes. (Y/N's) thoughts are interrupted by Maddy walking out.

"You ready to go?" Maddy asks.

"Yeah"

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine why?"

"You just seem super out of it"

"I'm just kinda tired, Mads. Getting 3 hours of sleep and then drinking an energy drink in the morning, is not the best thing to do, it's starting to catch up with me." (Y/N) says while laughing. Both girls leave the store and get in (Y/N's) car, (Y/N) drops Maddy off at home, goes to her own house, showers, and goes to sleep.

The next morning, (Y/N) got up and got ready for school. When she walked in, she was immediately greeted by her girlfriend.

"Hey!" Maddy yelled as she ran up to (Y/N). "Hi, I got to go to class, okay? I'll see you later!" (Y/N) says. They both say their goodbyes and walk to their classes. (Y/N) was walking to class but quickly got stopped by someone calling her name.

"(Y/N), hey, can we maybe talk for a moment?" (Y/N) turns around, and sees her ex-girlfriend, Cassie Howard. "I guess so, about what?" (Y/N) ask suspiciously, she would have never expected Cassie to be talking to her right now.

"I can tell you're still in love with me, (Y/N)" Cassie says as she grabs (Y/N) by the waist and pulls her closer. "Cassie, what are you talking about, I have a girlfriend, please get your hands off of me." The younger girl says, but Cassie doesn't listen, she lifts up (Y/N's) chin with her finger. "Cassie, stop, I have a girlfriend!"

What neither of them didn't realize, is that Maddy and Lexi had seen the whole thing, Lexi had saw how (Y/N) tried pushing off her sister and wasn't enjoying it, but Maddy on the other hand, didn't realize that (Y/N) wasn't enjoying this, Maddy instead had thought (Y/N) was cheating on her.

"You fucking bitch, did you actually think you could cheat on me and fucking get away with it?!" Maddy yelled at (Y/N). "You know what, (Y/N)? You weren't the fucking shit anyways!" (Y/N) had tears streaming down her face.

"Maddy it's not like that (Y/N) wasn't-" Lexi tried to help (Y/N) out but Maddy shut her up.

"Shut the fuck up, Lexi, this doesn't fucking concern you!" Maddy yelled at the Lexi. "Why the fuck are you crying. You weren't shit (Y/N), you were fucking annoying, and you weren't even that fucking hot either. You were a shitty ass girlfriend, and I hope I never fucking see you again!" Maddy ran to the bathroom with tears in her eyes, (Y/N) fell to the floor with her knees against her chest, uncontrollably sobbing.

"Cassie, why the fuck would you do that?" Lexi yelled at her older sister as she then followed Maddy to the bathroom.

Lexi saw Maddy standing at the sinks, trying to fix her makeup that was a bit messed up since she let a few tears slip. "Maddy?" Lexi tried approaching Maddy calmly to avoid being yelled at again. "I know you don't want me to be talking to you right now, but there is something really important I thought you should know. "What is it?" Maddy says confused and partially annoyed. "(Y/N) wasn't cheating on you, Cassie grabbed her and started being all weird and flirty with her, (Y/N) was trying to push Cassie away, I just thought you should know that." Lexi said which made Maddy's face change to guilt. "Are you sure?" Maddy asked. "Just because Cassie is my sister, doesn't mean I'm always going to take her side, but just trust me, I know (Y/N). She loves you, she would've never done something like that." Lexi before walking out to check on (Y/N).

"Hey, you alright?" Lexi asked (Y/N). "I just don't understand. I mean why did she immediately assume I was doing something wrong, does she not trust me? Did she really mean all those things?" (Y/N) said through tears, Lexi wrapped her arms around her. "She didn't mean any of those things, she was just mad. She may look confident, but deep down she gets scared and insecure. Trust me, she still loves you." Lexi reassured the older girl.

Lexi sat there for a few minutes with her arms wrapped around (Y/N) until Maddy started walking in their direction. "I'll leave you two alone" Lexi walked away and went to her class.

Maddy kneeled down next to (Y/N). "Maddy, I promise I would never do any-" (Y/N) is cut off by a passionate kiss, which was surprising because she thought she was about to be killed. "I'm sorry, I may have assumed a bit too quickly that you still liked Cassie and were cheating on me with her, I just get really scared sometimes? What I said was pretty harsh, and I promise you didn't mean any of it, I was just really mad in the moment. Can you forgive me? I love you."

"I guess I can forgive you, but if anything like this happens again, just please try and ask me about it first instead of yelling, but thank you for apologizing, I love you too." (Y/N) says. "Okay I can try and do that, only for you though, but do you forgive me enough to leave this shitty place and go to my house, we can maybe watch a movie and order food?" (Y/N) smiled at this. "Yeah I do, that sounds great"

Both girls went back to Maddy's house, they both changed into something comfier and laid in Maddy's bed, their bodies intertwined with one another. They stayed like this all day and even after they fell asleep.

A/N Sorry for taking so long to write this, I have been pretty busy 😭😭. Anyways I didn't proofread this because it's 3 in the morning and I have to wake up in 4 hours. If you have any requests for any Euphoria characters, or any characters I write for in general, then lmk, requests are always open. By the way, I have a couple Sam Carpenter imagines on my Wattpad that I haven't posted on here, so if you want to check it out, my Wattpad is @n0vabug! By the way thank you so much for all the notes, I highly appreciate it!

#maddy perez x reader #maddy perez #euphoria #cassie howard x reader #jules vaughn x reader #kat hernandez x reader #lexi howard x reader #rue bennet x reader

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 3 months

Note

i have a request! can u write a fic where r just feels like crap like she has no motivation to do any work or study for uni and maybe steve just helps her out? ly <33

i’ve been in these similar situations where depression or a funk is soooooo bad i just rotted in bed in the dark. if you’re ever feeling alone you could always come into my inbox/dms to talk.

steve harrington x gn!reader

masterlist

everything feels drab. draining. grey. there’s not an ounce of energy in your body to even lift your head from your pillow. the little shimmers of light filtering through your shut blinds felt blinding on your heavy eyes.

work sucks, taking every single piece of your soul everyday. school is stressful, having a breakdown after a three hour study session in the library. you want to drop out, you want to be unemployed- you just want to barely exist.

there was a gentle knock on your bedroom door, you couldn’t even mange a simple hum or “come in”, you just stayed silent. a faint creak of hinges signaled that your guest was peeking into your room.

“honey?” it was steve. his tone was soft, not wanting to disturb, “you awake?” you just did a light shuffle, moving your head from under your blanket. a nonverbal invitation to enter further.

steve closed the door behind him and made his way to your curled in side, the bed dipping with his weight. his palm rested on your covered hip, a comforting back and forth swiping. “how we feeling today?” a question steve asked when you were in a funk.

left cheek pressed into your pillow caused your lips to pucker and butcher your answer. steve leans in closer, asking for you to repeat yourself. even that felt like too much work.

“empty.” the one word pushed from your mouth, heavy on your tongue. eyes staring a hole into your wall, smile and laughing faces mocking you.

steve rubbed a line over your hip, “okay.” said in a tone a sad mother uses on their kid. you felt like you just disappointed steve. it’s not like you want to be down, it just happens and is a bitch to deal with.

a blur started to cover your sight, “i’m sorry.” throat getting choked by the oncoming tears. you wanted to bury yourself away.

“hey, no, no. it’s okay to feel this way. everyone feels this way at times.” hand leaving your hip to caress at your cheek, wiping away the few tears beginning to drop.

“it’s- it’s different.” “i now.” you both know that’s not the whole truth.

steve tucked a few greasy hair strands behind your ear, “why don’t we get a bath? feeling clean is always a nice step for a better mind. i could change your bedding as well, also make a snack to eat. what you say?” his thumb a simple weight on your cheek, his fingers pressing lightly into your neck.

a bath does sound nice. you were starting to feel the oil clogging your pores and you had a inkling that your room was starting to develop a smell that you were ignoring. you know what they say, a clean space helps a clean mind, or something like that.

“that… that sounds nice.” making eye contact with steve for the first time today.

his smile was beautiful. “okay, i’ll get it ready then come back.” before leaving he pressed a love filled kiss to your forehead and another before walking to the bathroom down the hall.

less than five minutes later steve reappears in your doorframe, a new glow following him. “your bath, ma’lady.” standing before you with a hand stretched out in waiting.

“will you stay with me?” pushing your comforter away and swinging your feet to the floor. steve took your hand, holding you delicately like glass. “for a little. i gotta do my other stuff. i can wash your hair if you want.”

“please?” already feeling your shoulders loosen at the feel of steve’s fingers messaging your scalp. he smiled, sickly sweet before presenting a kiss into your crown, “anything for you.”

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington angst

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multiwreckedmess · 1 year

Text

February Filth Fest - Day 5

Pairing: Lee Know(Minho) x fem!reader Kink: Dacryphilia WC: 1.5k Summary: Minho is the classic best friend who hates all your boyfriends. He’s always had a good reason to hate them, you are just always late to see it. TW/CW: Dacryphilia, possessive Minho, break up sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, surprisingly soft? no pronouns used but reader has fem genitalia.

You looked like a drowned cat and maybe that’s why Minho let you into his apartment that night. Umbrella forgotten at the movie theater, mind preoccupied with disbelief. You didn’t stop running for the whole ten blocks it took you to reach his building’s alcove, fully equipped with a new video buzzer. Panting and shaking and dripping you rang his number and prayed that he was home snuggly on a Friday night rather than out on the town.

You were buzzed up without a word from him. Unusual but appreciated. Normally he’d play a back and forth game with you as though he didn’t know who you were before pretending to reluctantly let you in, much to your embarrassment. This time he didn’t even say hello, just the heavy thud of the lock deactivating answering your call. The apartment door was cracked open for you, one of his orange cats greeting you with a loud meow before trotting to the kitchen.

“Minho?” You could barely keep your voice from wobbling. Adrenaline wearing off you grasped the wall of the entryway for support. “He’s a fucking asshole Minho you were right. You were right. I was dumb. Tell me you told me so. Come on, get it over with.” The man appears, two bottles of soju in hand, no glass in sight. Giving you a once over he frowns, “you’re wet.” “It’s raining.” “Ah. I see.” He disappears only to reappear with a pair of sweats and a shirt throwing them at you with little ceremony. “Change before I gloat, you look depressing.” You sniff and giggle. It’s remarkable how sobbing and laughing feel so alike to your diaphragm. The kick of muscles forcing air out of your nose and mouth, the only difference is the ache in your heart.

In his bathroom you gingerly peel off your wet clothes and lay them over the safety bar in the shower to dry. Tipping your head over the tile you fluff your rain matted hair and check the reflection. Pitiful. Dark ring of mascara covering your undereyes, lashes heavy with retained water. Or tears.

A soft knock at the door. “Hey,” Minho’s voice reverberates from the other side. “Everything fit okay?” “Oh, yeah,” you swing the door open. He’s propped against the frame casually, nearly nose to nose with you. You jump a little. “Boo.” He smirks and hands you your bottle of soju. “Tell me, what did this one do?”

Minho had an annoying habit of prognostication when it came to your love life. It started when you’d first introduced him as you best friend to your latest fling. The strong handshake, the set jaw, the forced smile, all indicators that he was jealous and controlling. Minho smiled back. They hated each other. Minho knew the fling would pull the “your friend or me” card on you and end it. The next guy was no better, Minho hated his sleazy smile and immediate fallback to “bro code” as if they’d been friends longer than you and he had. This current boyfriend he just flat out hated. He told you he hated him. He didn’t like that when you talked your boyfriend would look at his phone more than you. He thought he was rude and arrogant and told you not to trust him.

“He cheated Minho. He’s a fucking cheater.” Your heart sinks down into your stomach. Brushing passed Minho you collapse into his overstuffed couch, another small brown cat comes to investigate you. Minho swigs his soju. Legs pulled into your chest, fingers pulling and stretching the cuffs of his sweats. “They look good on you. Keep them.” “Did you hear me Minho? I caught him. In the fucking movie theater with some bitch. Can you just, I don’t know, tell me how dumb I am and that you knew it from the beginning and get it over with please.” Your words bounce off of him, face blank, staring straight at you. He knows it’s not the right time, in fact it could be the worst time but he can’t help it. He’s already a bottle into the night and you look so cold and pathetic. “You look really pretty when you cry.” Somehow it doesn’t sound so bad when he says it. “Your eyes are really sparkly and your nose is cute and red,” he continues kneeling by the couch. “I knew he’d cheat on you from the first time we sat down for drinks. I’ve hated him since that night. I’m glad he’s going to be out of your life.”

Every word feels sharp in your ears, ringing painfully all the way to your chest and burrowing in your throat. Biting your lip you nod, “okay, yeah. You’re right.” Scooting behind you he pulls you into his lap, head to his shoulder. It was a familiar position, familiar circumstance. You fall into him easily, seeking his warmth and strength.Your warm breath fanning on his neck, small hiccups shaking the both of you, how your fingers curl around the cotton of his black tee shirt, it’s the small moments where his heart wants to take care of you most. “You’re dumb for wasting your time on him. On all of them.” “Make it not hurt anymore Minho, please,” you look up, eyes red and puffy, into his and plead. “I hurt so much.” His lips catch yours, “okay. If you trust me. I will. I’ll take care of you.” Nodding your nose brushes his, your lips meeting again softly. “I do. I trust you.”

Holding your waist he adjusts you to face him, sunken into the couch straddling his thighs. His heart beating wildly he gulps, “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.” “I know.” You let his arms swallow you whole, losing yourself to his kiss. Rough calloused palms run under your borrowed shirt along your back. Each kiss places a patch over a wounded soul. One to your throat, one between your breasts, one for each of your wrists, even leaning you back to kiss your stomach. He maps your invisible scars with his fingertips, all the battles he couldn’t fight for you, all the times he regretted not saying something sooner. “Fuck me and make it hurt,” you demand in a whisper. “I need to hurt.” “No,” he wants to elaborate. He wants to tell you that you’ve hurt enough. That you don’t need more physical pain to feel like what you are feeling is valid. But he doesn’t, slowly stripping you both of your sweatpants. “Please,” your voice is small and whiny. “Is that how he fucked you?” “No.” “Then no.” Minho slides two fingers in your spread pussy, stopping your chatter with his mouth on yours.

Every movement feels slow motion. The slick sound of you hips rocking into his palm, thumb brushing over your clit. Minho touches you like you could break easily in his arms. Kisses you like he was trying to catch a floating bubble on his lips. Even sliding down on his dick felt easy and smooth, slotting in like you were made for him. Fully seated with him inside you melt over his chest, chin on his shoulder.

It’s the most complete you’ve felt in years. Sticky sound of skin peeling off of skin as you rock into each other and breathe. He smells sweet and spicy, familiar and warm. He holds you to him as he moves more quickly, fucking up into you, chasing your whimpers and sighs.

Minho can feel your walls flutter and clench around him,your thighs growing tired you crash down onto him hard, forcing him deeper and closer. He keeps pace as you squirm and whine unintelligibly. “That’s it, let it out. You can let go. Let go for me okay? You’re safe.” He whispers, encouraging softly to contrast the brutal snap of his hips.

“Mmhohkay, Minho- I-”

Groans forced from your body with each stroke you feel it again, the overwhelming tightness in your chest that spreads and blossoms up to your throat and down to the tops of your thighs. The heat between you is all consuming. You need air. Leaning back onto his thighs, fingers clawing his biceps, air rushes into your lungs. Minho already has one hand at your clit to make up for the loss of friction, pressing against it with his middle and ring finger making small harsh circles. You cum violently, pent up with rage and sadness, sobbing and swearing and shaking.

“Too good, Minho, it feels-it’s-” your voice is rough and shaking with each syllable. He loves it. He loves how destroyed you are. Destroyed in the way you should be, racked with pleasure until you are broken and his.

His. The thought circles and wraps around his brain like a cobra. Minho cums with a strained high grunt, slipping out of you and spraying his release on your tummy. Globs of pearly white streaking your skin. Despite the mess he scoops you up back against his chest. Kissing and coddling you as you vibrate in his arms. “Whose tears are these?”

“Yours Minho.” You smile and wipe your cheek.

He rubs his thumb under your eye, collecting remnants of mascara and tears. “No more crying for anyone else.”

This was a lot softer than i expected to write him. I just didn’t feel like writing him too mean or rough this time even though generally i like mean!minho.

#lee know smut #stray kids minho smut #lee minho smut #skz minho smut #minho smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #february filth fest

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pasta-in-the-pudding · 3 months

Note

hi Jake! I absolutely love your blogs, and I’m wondering if you can do some Homicidal Liu/liu woods hcs? :3 please & thank you!!

GUH LIU <333 He's my special guy I love him

TW: Mentions of abuse, trauma, very light gore, a little angst

Thank you so much for requesting!!

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

General Liu Headcanons

The biggest thing about Liu that effects his day to day life is his DID

He grew up in a very dysfunctional home, where his parents only really had kids as makeshift butlers and to live vicariously through them

Liu, being the older brother had a lot of the "harder" tasks given to him such as cooking for the family, making sure everyone had clean clothes, when jeff was a baby he had to change jeff's diapers, etc

So both kids were very mentally unstable from the start, but what really set the hammer in the coffin for Liu developing DID was that whenever he either did something wrong or didn't do his "chores", he was severely punished by being locked in a closet with no food, water or bathroom privileges for unknown amounts of time

This being said, he has waaay more alters than just Sully, Sully is just the one that fronts the most due to Sully being the main protector of the system

Other than Sully, Liu's system is made up of mostly littles and caretaker alters

Which can be very scary at times, so he does everything in his power to make sure that if someone does happen to front, it isn't any of the littles

Ok, i'm done talking about his DID now

I imagine him to either be fully Columbian or mixed Columbian with American

Jeff is the same way

Speaking of Jeff, Liu is about 5 years older than Jeff

Also on the topic of Jeff, Liu still very much loves his brother, and understands that during the "incident" he was very mentally unstable and he wasn't entirely in control of his own actions at the moment

But after being reunited with Jeff, it took a very, very long time for Liu to even stay in the front of his mind when around Jeff, let alone feel safe around him

Over the years, their relationship has significantly improved

Liu still doesn't feel comfortable being alone with Jeff, or even really going anywhere with Jeff, but he is able to hang out with him and talk

His height is around 5'9"

He always smells like vanilla and sometimes like a grandma's perfume

SPEAKING OF GRANDMAS

Liu is a total grandma

He says "oh lordy lord" after waking up from a long nap, he does the english teacher cardigan tuck, he says "kids these days", etc

But he's chill guys I swear (Jeff come get your boy he just said "Flabbergasted" in front of the hoes)

Also he loves plants

so much

someone stop this guy

It started out innocent enough, just a few plants to take care of because he read that taking care of plants can help with depression

And then he kind of spiraled

He has names for all of them, designated personalities, sometimes he knits them clothes for their pots

He's generally a very quiet guy

I wouldn't say shy per se....but he's like....shy in a cool history teacher way

guys he takes it up the butt

Woah who said that??? wild. Anyways!

He's so gentle and calming guh..

Love that guy, he's so special to me

ALSO he doesn't techincally have any pets but like...there's this one stray cat that comes around that he feeds and in return the cat brings him little dead things

He's named him "Harold Jackson"

He likes to read

He's one of those booktok girlies with all the tabs and highlighters

Genuinely squeals like a bitch when he sees a "Penguin Classics" book out in public

(I'm projecting onto him)

His proxy tattoo is on his shoulder, like right on top of it

He got his ears pierced at the young young age of 25 (reluctantly. Jeff forced him)

And now he wears all sorts of fun earrings! (he wears those e-boy cross earrings...)

His spotify wrapped consisted of David Bowie, Hozier, Cigarettes after sex, and mitski

His favorite color is beige and his hobbies include ironing clothes and sending emails <33

Guys idk if you can tell but i love him a lot

#creepypasta #slender mansion #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x female reader #jeff the killer #jeffery woods #homicidal liu x reader #homicidal liu #homocidal liu #liu woods

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misguidedasgardian · 9 months

Text

I need to... (4)

... Have fun

MASTERLIST

Summary: Jace says you missed all the fun events for the beginning of the school year, well, except for this one, the annual bonfire and hunt

Pairings: Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past depression and toxic relationship, cursing, might be underage drinking (depends on the country), eating meat, mentions of an inappropriate relationship, might miss some warnings

Wordcount: 4,1 k

Notes: DUDESSSS I SAID JACE WAS A VELARYON, BUT IN THIS STORY, HE IS A STRONG, JEJEJE JACAERYS STRONG muahaha, sorry it scaped me…for in this AU, there is no incest no no, (Laenor and Rhaenyra were cousins or sm), anyways, Rhaenyra married Harwin, and had her three beautiful legitimate Strong Boys <3

“I’m Cregan Stark”, he greeted

“Nice to meet you”, you managed to mumble, smiling apologetically

Jace’s roommate didn't change a thing in the dynamic, in fact, he enhanced it, they were even more laughs, more stories, more questions for you, more ribs, more french fries, and more beer, you knew you had BBQ sauce in your face, probably that is the reason he kept looking at you and smiling, but the conversation was so good and funny, you didn't even wanted to get up to go to the bathroom…

You were so comfortable

Until the Tavern closed and you had to go. You hugged everyone else goodbye, you still had the weekend ahead of you and you were looking forward to spending it with them.

That is when you and Jace decided that you needed to talk….

You had a coffee cup in hand, as you and Jace stood face to face in the gas station (the only thing open at that hour)

“Who wants to start?”, he said, amused

“You start”, you offered

“Well…” he scratch his chin, like some hairs wanted to come out, you giggled, jace always had this baby face but you could tell he was growing out of it quickly, “those were tormentous weeks”

“Tell me”, you encouraged, ready for anything, you had to remind yourself continuously that you were thousands of miles away, they couldn’t… he couldn’t… get to you anymore

“You know we live in Dragonstone, but as soon as vacations started grandpa wanted us back in King’s Landing, for election week and the holidays, my mom doesn’t like to get photographed with the other party, but we went anyways, and then, we found out”, he started very cryptically

“What?”, you murmured

“We didn’t know until I got there, you should had seen Alicent’s face, she looked like she was about to throw up”

“When doesn’t she?”, you snickered

“Aemond at first didn’t want to admit it, as always we asked about you and he didn’t want to answer, and after one week, he even reached out to me and asked me if I knew something about you, and then is when the Lannisters didn’t show… and… the bomb exploded”

“What bomb?”

“That you had ran out on him, with Ben, left him for Winterfell, and you convinced your godmother to go with you”, you opened your mouth wide in rage, “that he didn’t want to admit it, that you two had split, Alicent was so angry and disappointed, specially with the Lannisters, she knows the pull you had on them, Aemond exaggerated the whole thing”

“WHAT?”, you asked, enraged, “the matrix, the glitch and the audacity of that bitch!”

“I know there is something else to it, specially when you sent me that text”, he said, and then he looked at you expectantly

“Jace, Aemond cheated on me, with my plastic arts teacher, he knocked her up and I found out because I saw him fucking her in her desk at school”.

Jace didn’t know if to laugh, cry or throw up, and you could tell by his face

“Are you for real?”, he asked cautiously after a while

“Yes”, you murmured

“Well of course he forgot to mention that, he said that you suffered from some sort of psychotic break and left Dragonstone University with Ben Tallhear”

“Of course he did”, you mocked, sipping on your coffee, he laughed bitterly

“Are they angry about the fact that I left Aemond… or the Lannister part”

“Well, Alicent didn’t say anything in front of us, because she knows we like you, but she used very colorful and disrespectful language when your name came up”, you whined, rubbing your face with your hands, “that you were… easy”

“Of course she did”

“my mom, me and her had a huge fight over it, my mom told her probably Aemond had done something, of course, because you wouldn’t do that”

“Really?”, they defended you, you wanted to cry

“And I also believed that, it was impossible for you to do something like that without reason, and I wanted it to hear that from you, I know how you really are”, he said amicably, “and yes they called Jason and Tyland on hours on end and they couldn’t reach them, it was kind of funny actually”, he laughed, “it works for us the Strongs, and my mother you know she is a liberal…”, he teased, and you smiled

“Well, I’m glad I could be of service”, you mocked

“Did he really knock her up?”, he asked

“Well, I didn’t see a paternity test”, you offered, throwing your shoulders up, “but the dates match”

“For the gods”, whined Jace, “that is messed up”

“It is”, you sipped on your coffee, “well, not my circus, not my monkeys, at least not anymore”

“You did well in running, and I want you to know, you are still in the Strong’s christmas cards list”, he teased, and laughed

“That is all that matters”, you smiled, but then you looked at his face, the face of the guy who was once your very best friend, and you wanted to cry. Your nose tickled, preventing you for the waterworks, you sniffed

“Hey what’s going on?”, he asked, scared

“I’m sorry for ghosting you Jace”, you whined, tears in your eyes, he only shook his head and grabbed your hand in his, “I can’t say I regret the whole thing with Aemond, but that certainly I regret, you were my best friend”

“I was very angry at first, but then I could tell something else was going on, I sorry I didn’t try harder to stay”, you only shook your head, and whipped a tear from your face

“It's easy for me to say it now that I messed up and everything went to shit you know?”, you cried, “but I thought about you every day, and I missed you terribly”

“I missed you too”, he said softly, “it didn’t help that we moved to Harrenhal with my mother, but no more, right? you are here now, I’m here now, that what matters”, he said with a bright smile, “right?”

“Right”, you said back, regaining your smile

“Do you want me to put laxatives in Aemond’s food? like we did with Aegon in the Red Keep’s annual labor day party?”, you snorted a laugh

“Gods we were a menace”, you laughed

“Remember when they send us together to the therapist?”

“Yes and we made the therapist need therapy”, you laughed back

“Well, that was not our fault, you know what they say, in a blacksmith’s house, a wooden knife”, you laughed even harder

You shared smiles and meaningful looks

He walked you back to your dorm and he kept telling you about all the great things Winterfell had to offer

“What do you think about Sara?”, he asked, and you smiled

“She is great”, you said, “what do you think about Sara?”, you teased back, he blushed

“She is amazing, I like her a lot”, he said, “but… she is the younger sister of my very good friend and roommate, you know?”, he asked, “if I take a shot, I can’t miss”, he said

“You know is love when you start to sound like a sniper”, you laughed

. . .

You love it here

It had been a week and nobody had asked you what your family did for a living, nobody had judged you for bringing the same backpack for class all week, people here were different, lighter, nicer to be around.

Your classes were incredible even if you were deferred from the original course, and people there actually wanted to be teamed up with you, they were curious and open minded.

“Its a college for hippies and alternatives”

Again that annoying voice

But you also felt different, you were relaxed, open for good things to happen to you, and people here seemed to know this, you stopped trying so hard, and it came naturally

Jace had promised you in the spring was much nicer, now you couldn’t really enjoy the beautiful parks all around and inside the campus, but you just got happy by being in the roofed patios of the magnificent castle

You were waiting for your friends to finish their classes in the cafeteria, and you jumped when your phone rang in your pocket, you grabbed it and when you saw the screen it showed a really strange number, and you just didn’t pick up, you weren’t in the mood for a telemarketer, or to change your phone plan

“There you are!”, Sara greeted you, you smiled back

“Hey”, you greeted with a wide smile

“Do you have plans for the weekend?”, she asked, she always seemed like she was running a 100 miles per hour, “because there is this thing…”, you were interrupted when a commotion was being made in the entrance to the big hall, people were howling, guys, men, or that is what it seemed, entered the cafeteria running, and howling, many of them were wearing wolf masks. People started cheering and laughing, applauding, some of the guys got atop the tables and howled, they were like thirty. One of them, and one joined them, jumped in front of you in one of the large communal tables

“Wolves! wolves! wolves!”, even Sara started cheering and you did as well

“Bonfire!, Bonfire!, Bonfire!”, they started chanting. And they, when the show was over, guys howled one more time and then, they got off the tables and merged all over the people there, like nothing had happened, you and Sara looked at the two persons that got close, and then they took of their masks, it was Jace, and Cregan.

“Well, like I was saying”, continued Sara, “this weekend is Bonfire weekend, and if you have no other plans…”

“Oh, no no, your presence is mandatory I’m afraid”, chuckled Jace

“You heard him”, giggled Sara

“Bonfire then?”, you asked, Cregan was looking at you.

“We are celebrating the end of winter”, Cregan said with a smirk, “is a tradition from a thousand years ago, when they say winters lasted years, and when it showed signs the winter was yielding, they celebrated with huge bonfires, hoping to draw the old gods of winter away”

“That is beautiful”, you whispered

“Anyways, but the big bonfire goes after”, said Jace

“After what?”

“The hunt”, said Jace with a wide smile

“Like… with guns?”, Sara barked out a laugh

“No!”, she laughed, “It's about chasing people in the woods”, teased Sara

“That sounds creepy”, you whined

“Well at first it was about boys chasing girls”, said Cregan, “then it was girls chasing boys”

“And now?”, you asked

“We are still debating”, he teased and you smiled

“Anyways, the hunt starts when the sun sets, and then after a few hours of harmless fun in the woods, we come back to campus to enjoy the bonfire, a couple of kegs, vegetarian barbeque, carnivore barbecue, a small get together with the entire campus”, muttered Jace

“I love that”, you smiled

“Anyways, you missed homecoming week, but this is spirit week, and it awesome”, said Jace

“You freshmen know more of the school than I do”, laughed Cregan

“And what activities await us in spirit week?”, you asked, very entertained

“You get teamed by career”, started Sara, “there is the language department, the law and politics department, the engineering school, the faculty of art, design and architecture, and the scientists, and you compete with each other, everyone on different teams…”

“That sounds cool”, you offered

“The engineers always wins”, muttered Jace, “in most of the competitions anyways”

“And that is next week”, you said

“YES!”, Cheered Sara, your smile was huge, bright and you were so excited, your phone dinged and when you looked at it, you realized you had been added to a huge group chat, of the ADA Faculty

“Ohhh, it started!”, teased Jace and you hid your phone playfully from him

“You go to your own department”, you mocked. Jace was studying public administrations, Cregan was in Business, in the same department.

“How fuuunnnn!”, Sara was as excited as you were, she was an Valyrian Lit mayor, yet another department

Rhaena and Baela entered the Hall, Rhaena was with you in the ADA, but Baela was in Law

You grabbed Rhaena as she was excited as you

“Teammate!”, you cheered, and you jumped together in fun

“It’s like a cheerleader on crack”, said Jace

And you felt like you were on crack, I mean, you had never done crack, but you felt ecstatic all the time

You grabbed Rhaena, forgetting lunch and you trotted outside the hall in the way to the ADA Department building, leaving all of them behind looking at you both walking away with amused glances on their faces

Specially Cregan, he then looked back at his group of friends with a smile on his face, Jace frowned when he saw him

“Hey”

“What?”, he looked back to catch a last glance of you before you disappeared on the hallway, “she is sweet”, he whispered

You loved your design career

You had a meeting with the department for spirit week and you had already your shirts made, banners and a plan to win the activities

And when the sun started setting, you were called in the main park of the college

With all the rest of the Universities

The wolf masks were back on, people were in High spirits, and soon it was even more contagious as you even felt more ecstatic

“This is officially the beginning for Spirit week!”, said out loud the presenter, that you guessed was a senior, he was a student. Everyone clapped and cheered, “And we have decided that the hunters for this year's hunt will be… all those who identify as girls!”, you cheered, “and the wolfs will be all those who identifies as boys”

Everyone cheered

. . .

“Damn you look good in this colors”, teased Rhaena as she applied “battle paint” in your face, gray lines in different designs all over your face, you giggled

“Gray is a very flattering color, we all look amazing”, you muttered as you finished braiding Sara’s hair

It was like a pagan tradition and you were here for it and to look for the part, so you and the girls decided to meet in the dorm’s huge bathroom to prepare for the hunt, painting your faces, doing crazy and wild hair do’s to each other, you were having so much fun

After you finished your makeup, you met at the starting line, the sun was about to set, and wood for the huge bonfire was being gathered in the park surrounding the University, in a big valley.

The guys were all gathered in the other side, and they were howling, all with masks, it was hilarious

“The wolves will start running, and the hunters will follow, five minutes later!”, called a guy with a megaphone

You started chatting with the girls, the school was huge it had many students, and you had gathered a great number

You thought about Jace though, and what he was wearing, this seemed like a cool activity, but you’d rather go and search for someone you knew… flannel shirt and jeans? you believed, with a graphic t-shirt underneath…

A horn like sound reached the entire valley, and with howls and laughs the great group of people disappeared into the woods, as the sun was hiding

“Remember to stay within the range, and if you get lost just blow a whistle!”, you turned to the girls

“So which strategy are we going with?”

To catch them all, you had to grab the wolf’s ribbon they had around their waist, that is how you hunt them, the one hunter who got most ribbons won a price, probably a six pack of beer or something, nothing mayor

But the girls and you had gossiped all afternoon about which “ribbon” they would like to catch, and who it belonged to

You didn’t even looked at guys’ faces, not yet anyways

So since Sara hasn't say anything about Jace, you determined you were going to search for your best friend

“Divide and conquer” said Sara with a wide grin

“Divide and conquer”

Were you scared to get lost in the woods? Yes

Did you want to say so? Hell no

This tradition had been going on for years, and nothing ever happened, so you tried to relax, it wasn’t even that dark, even though it was quite early

“Alright! let’s start this!”, chanted the presenter, “remember you have one hour!”, the horn sounded again and you started running g

it was true what they said about the thrill of the hunt

You felt exhilarating

And as you ran dodging the trees and branches like you were born in those woods, like you knew them by heart, you ran as you felt the chilly air clinging to your clothes and face, and you loved it

You could see your breath ahead of you, it was chilly, winter was clinging on

You felt like one with the woods as you looked around

And then, from afar, you saw Jace, or someone who looks like him anyways, and you couldn’t even hold a giggle, and you prepared to pounce, as you approached him quickly and silently

“GOT YOU!”, you announced and you jumped him, literally got over a fallen tree and jumped on top of him, clinging into him like a koala, you searched but his ribbon and removed it, not before feeling his… strange body… not like Jace at all

As soon as your face landed on his neck, you realized something…

It wasn’t Jace

You released the poor guy from your embrace

He turned around, removing his mask, and you realized, with a comical open mouth, that is was Cregan Stark

“Hey”, you greeted, he smiled down at you, as he was taller than you

“That was interesting”, he whispered with a smirk on his face, and a glint of mischief in his eyes

“Sorry about that”, you giggled, “for… attacking you… I thought you were Jace”

“Is more than alright”, there was something about him, you couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but there it was was, you immediately trusted him, because he was Jacey’s roommate and friend, so it meant he was also your friend by default, so you just smiled apologetically to him

“Let’s join in the party”, he said with a wolfish grin, you smiled widely, “the hour is almost up”

“Let’s do it”, you giggled, “I hope you know this woods more than me because otherwise…”, he laughed

“Yes I do”

You walked side by side through the woods

“Its unusual for people to change schools mid-semester”, he started, you smiled shyly

“Well… I didn't want to stay where I was”, you said shyly, “my dream was always coming here, are you from here? from the North?”, you asked, and he seemed surprised by your question, he looked back at you with interest in his eyes, and then chuckled

“Yes, Yes I’m from around here”, he said

The music could already be heard, a band was playing live, you could already see the magnificent glow of the huge bonfire, and Cregan saw your excitement with a smile of his own, when you came out of the woods you went to the organizers who were waiting for the hunters and the wolves, to make sure everybody came back safely.

With a grin you gave him the ribbon and they marked you up

With surprise, you’d realize you were one of the last couples, time had flown, and you felt even more exhilarated. You wanted to join the party that was unleashing in the valley, people were already dancing, having fun, the kegs already were out, snacks too. You looked back at Cregan with a smile

“It was a pleasure hunting you Cregan Stark”, you teased

“Well, it was a pleasure being hunted by you”, he said back, his gaze lingered, but you looked away, and then you spotted Rhaena and Baela dancing in the ground, their beautiful hair hard to miss

“They are here!”, you cheered, and you both followed to join the party

The band apparently was from a group of kids of the music program, and they sang rock songs

“You are heeeere”, Bhaela teased, “and with Creeeegan”, she wiggled her eyebrows at you and you just laughed, “mmmmm”

Nothing happened, and then you looked at Sara and she was looking back at you with an arched eyebrow and a smirk, she looked like her brother so much

“Here”, Cregan arrived next to you and offered you a red cup with ale in it

“Thanks”, you took a sip and couldn’t help but moan, it was refreshing, Jace arrived with more beer and smiled widely

“I got to say I truly believe you were going to get lost”, he laughed

“Well, I was lucky to tackle poor Cregan here thinking it was you!”, you laughed

Jace looked at Cregan but said nothing, Sara grabbed you for you to start jumping and dancing at the beat of the song. The brand started playing more popular songs, songs you could sing and dance to. You enjoyed the music in a the group that your friends joined, and more people you haven't seen before

But when you realized you were dancing too close to Cregan and he turned to you to dance with you, your stomach sank.

You felt nervous, in a way that you didn't like, you felt again that need, that pressure to make a good impression, to not do something foolish, feelings that constipated you, that binded you not to move, not to speak, so before he came closer you turned and kept dancing with the girls

You weren’t ready

Cregan seemed like a good guy

But the wounds were still fresh

The music was blazing, the beer was flowing, the warmth of the bonfire was heating your cheeks, and you danced with your new friends all night.

And you got… HAMMERED

Very wasted, you still had control over your actions, but you giggled uncontrollably and hugged Sara who was just as drunk as you were.

Hours had passed, it was over midnight and the party had died down, the bonfire had extinguished and the band had stopped playing.

Jace and Cregan led you back to their place, your dorm had a big and strict policy regarding drunkenness and poor behavior, and they were as drunk as you, and didn’t think things more clearly, their apartment was closest.

So they took you both to their student building of apartments,

Cregan helped the two of you get in his bed, the queen bed in one of the rooms, and you cuddled with Sara on the bed under Cregan’s sweet eyes. He left you when you fell asleep, and Cregan went to Jace’s room

“Our girls invaded my room”, said Cregan with an entertained smile, “so move”

Cregan laid down right next to Jace, and both looked at the ceiling in silence, until Jace frowned

“Our girls?”, he asked, looking at his friend, and he sighed, “what do you mean?”

“Well, she is your best friend, and Sara is my sister, right?”, he said dismissively

“Cregan… please don’t fuck my friend”, pleaded Jacaerys, “she is been trough enough already…I don’t think she is ready…”

“Oh Jacey, I’m not going to fuck her”, Jace relaxed for a second before he frowned, “first I’m going to date her”, he continued, “then I will ask her to be my girlfriend, then I’m going to make sweet love to her”

Jace sighed, rolling his eyes

“Come on”, he whined

“I’m teasing”, he said softly, “she is going through something, I can see it”, he said looking for imaginary shapes in the ceiling paint, “but I can wait, I want to get to know her”

One day, when you were walking by the oldest wing, the department of Laws and Politics, you stopped suddenly when you saw a huge copper plate by the entrance, curious about what it dais, your faculty was more modern than the rest, more new, so you were truly interested in the history of this campus and town

“The Stark building, in honor of House Stark, who donated their family estate for the higher purpose of education and development of the children of the North, 1600 AC”, you read, and then you looked up with shame.

More than 400 years ago…

Stark

Oh so he really was from around here, you giggled to yourself

More notes: I clearly been watching too many american movies JAJA, obviously this is fanfiction in all its glory, Universities where I’m from are bored as f*ck, so I decided to put some color jajaja

This chapter came up weird, Cregan is already smitten and reader is not quite convinced

I again say that I was not completely sure to share this, I don't why, but I wanted to show reader in a different environment, she is getting to know everyone and that Cregan is already like that wolf cartoon with the big eyes... anyways... next chapter we are back to the drama! wuju

taglist!!

@mxtokko @princesssterek @thefandomimagines @iamavailablesstuff @misspascalpunk @sweethoneyblossom1 @ipostwhtifeel @lunamoonbby @ahristata @watercolorskyy @yazzzmints @n4tforlife @littleshadow17 @alexa4040 @speedyballoonpainter @hc-geralt-23 @rayrayredpanda @eralen

#hbo house of the dragon #misguidedneed #jacaerys velaryon #cregan #cregan x y/n #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan x you #cregan fanfiction #aemond targaryen

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