#guns and roses t-shirt? check

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Summary: Conflict arises with Harris's new teacher, filling Halloween with more tricks than treats. But it's nothing a visit with Ms. Sweetheart can't fix.

Warnings: allusion to Reader and Eddie's one-night stand, panic attack, Reader's grandma has dementia.

WC: 5.6k

Chapter 6/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Guns N’ Roses t-shirt: check. Goodwill jeans with makeshift holes in the knees: check. Bandana tied snugly around his forehead: check. Arms littered with an assortment of temporary tattoos: check.

Eddie grins as he assesses his son’s costume, reaching into the thrift store bag as he pulls out the pièce de résistance: a denim jacket, only two sizes bigger than Harris would usually wear. It was a bit over what he’d been hoping to spend, but he’d reasoned with himself that it could also be worn after Halloween. It was an investment, he’d decided, not a splurge.

His smile falters when Harris indignantly stomps his foot, crossing his arms over his chest. While Eddie had hoped his son would go with more badass tattoo options, perhaps a skull and crossbones or even a snake, he had insisted on a Sesame Street theme. Cookie Monster munches on his signature treat as Harris pouts.

“No, Daddy!” he whines, twisting away when Eddie holds the jacket closer to him. “I can’t wear that!”

“C’mon, Har,” he tries, scouring his brain to come up with a convincing enough lie. “Axl Rose wore jackets all the time!”

Harris doesn’t just shake his head; he swivels his entire body back and forth in protest. “I don’t care! No one’s gonna be able to see my tattoos!” He holds out both arms in front of him; nearly every square inch (besides the section blocked by his cast) is covered. Eddie had spent most of last night diligently applying them precisely where Harris had asked, lest there be a tantrum. There was, unfortunately, a headless Elmo from when Harris had asked–no, demanded–that he try by himself. Still, Eddie figured that only one casualty was a win.

“Those are some sweet ol’ tatties,” Eddie muses, biting back a laugh at the two-dimensional Big Bird on his son’s forearm. “But wouldn’t it be cool if you wore the jacket into school and then–BAM!--took it off and surprised everyone with them?

Harris appears to consider this, mouth tucked into his cheeks. “Can I show Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Sure, bud. We’ll stop by her classroom when I pick you up.” Whatever gets us out of the house in weather-appropriate attire. “But first, show me your most metal pose.”

The boy opens his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue as far as it extends, scrunching his face dramatically until the corners of his eyes crinkle. His middle and ring fingers press into his palm, thumb crossing over them, with his forefinger and pinky raised in the quintessential rock ‘n roll symbol. 

Eddie swoops down and smacks a wet kiss to Harris’s cheek. “That’s my boy!”

Standing among the crowd of parents at pick-up, Eddie opts out of making banal small talk and instead chooses to look at the bulletin board. The previous art project that had been hanging against the faded blue paper–”self-portraits” that the students had made on the first day of school–have been replaced by finger paintings of orange blobs that vaguely resemble pumpkins. There wasn’t one for Harris because he was in Ms. Sweetheart’s classroom then, so it’s his first art project in his new class. He eagerly scans the board for Harris’s, frowning when he can’t find his name. 

Maybe it’s still drying, he tries to convince himself, imagining his son over-saturating the paper with globs of paint. It wouldn’t be entirely out of character.

Ms. Marion’s classroom is a sea of costumed children. A boy dressed as one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles stands by his mom. A Cinderella, a black cat, and a Thomas the Tank Engine surround Ms. Paula. As soon as Eddie spots Harris, he smiles and waves him over, hurriedly scribbling his signature on the sign-out sheet.

He expects Harris to zoom past the other kids, fueled by the standard Halloween diet of sugar and chocolate, but he just kind of…mopes to the doorway. His shoulders slump dejectedly, and though he keeps his gaze low, Eddie can still see the film of mist staining his innocent eyes.

“Har, what’s wrong?” He waits for an answer, and when he doesn’t receive one–an oddity for his perpetually chatty son–he tries a new tactic. “Wanna show me where your artwork is? I must be gettin’ old, because I couldn’t find it on the board out there.”

“‘S not there,” Harris mumbles, scratching off a flaking piece of the Rosita tattoo on the back of his hand. “I didn’t get to finish.”

Eddie watches as the tears start to slip down his cheeks, and he brings him into the hallway before Ms. Marion or Ms. Paula sees what’s going on. He can’t be certain, but his paternal instincts tell him that they’ve contributed to Harris’s sad state. “Why not?”

“I-I t-tried, but M-Ms. Mar-Marion and Ms. P-Paula got m-mad at me.” The words come out between choked sobs. “‘C-Cuz I c-couldn’t sit d-down.”

“What do you mean?”

“I k-keeped st-standing up, ‘cuz m-my legs wanted to st-stand.” The explanation tumbles out of him so quickly, as though he’s trying to beat the clock. “And they s-said if I did-didn’t sit down, I c-couldn’t do art. But I k-keeped f-f-forgetting, and th-they t-taked away my pay-pay-paper and said, ‘sit in the c-corner!’”

Eddie’s breath hitches, and he has to clear his throat before speaking again. “Did…did that happen in Ms. Sweetheart’s class? The legs thing?” 

“Mhm,” Harris manages, “b-but she let me stand and d-do ju-jumps to get the wig-wiggles out. She just t-t-telled me not to do ju-jumps with s-s-scissors, ‘cuz of s-safety.” His breathing increases to a rapid pace, face flushing red as his chest heaves. “B-But Ms. M-Marion ye-ye-yelled at me!”

Eddie’s brows pinch together, and he gently presses his calloused palms against Harris’s narrow shoulders, desperate to prevent him from hyperventilating. “Harris, you gotta calm down. I can’t understand you when you’re crying like this!” Despite his efforts, his frustration bleeds into his tone, and he winces when the latter sentence ends with an unwanted snap. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s just an art project.” 

“Harris?”

The sound of your voice draws the attention of both Munsons. You let out a small oof as Harris flings himself against your legs, and though he practically flew the five foot distance between his father and you, now is not the time to remind him about using his walking feet.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” You crouch down, taking his hand in yours, and notice his quick, shallow breaths. “We’re gonna breathe together, okay? Eyes on me.” You demonstrate inhaling for three seconds, holding for three seconds, and exhaling for three seconds. “Now let’s do it together.” 

He hesitates but ultimately follows your lead, and you guide him until his breathing slows enough for him to sputter, “I t-tried to sit, b-but I c-couldn’t.”

You haven’t the slightest idea what he’s referring to, but Eddie fills you in. You feel the heat of anger creeping through your body, not just for the way your co-worker treated the sweet boy, but for her insolent approach to teaching as a whole.

“We can go to my classroom,” you offer, silently sighing in relief when the boy nods in agreement. “I don’t know if I have the supplies to make the same project as Ms. Marion, but if you have a few minutes, you can draw something now. I bet Mr. Will would love to help you; he’s a super-duper artist.”

Just as you’d predicted, Will jumps at the opportunity to help Harris with his impromptu art project, encouraging him to draw something that makes him happy. While he does that, you comb through the mess left behind from the Halloween party you’d thrown. You’d sooner toss one hundred cupcake wrappers in the trash before attempting a conversation with Eddie Munson. He’s simply too unpredictable; kind and thoughtful one day, harsh and guarded the next.

One of the wrappers in your hand drops to the floor and you reach forward to pick it up, pinching the pleated material between your pointer and middle fingers. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on your form, the way the backs of your thighs are slightly exposed when you bend over, and you stand up quickly. 

“Are you the Magic School Bus lady?” He takes in your lavender dress with planets and stars stamped all over it. Oh. He wasn’t checking you out; he was just trying to figure out who you’d dressed up as. Good. Anything else would be inappropriate.

So why does a twinge of disappointment radiate through you?

You glance at your costume; with all of the commotion, you’d forgotten you’d even been wearing one “I mean, would I even be a teacher if I didn’t jump at the chance to be Ms. Frizzle?” You motion over to Will, decked out in green from head to toe with two yellow horns glued to a headband atop his mop of brown hair. “Have you met my trusty sidekick, Liz the Lizard?”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, Byers actually used to play in my D&D club back in high school. Made some pretty sick art pieces to liven up that dingy excuse for a room.”

You look between the two of them, trying to do the mental math. “Will, didn’t you say you’re twenty-four?” And if Eddie is thirty, that means…

“I, uh, had a little trouble graduating,” Eddie sheepishly admits, ruffling the back of his hair and offering a tight grimace. “But I got there eventually. Class of ‘86, baby!” 

“Worked out for me,” Will shrugs with a grin, looking up from Harris’s drawing. “You were the best DM Hellfire ever had. Although, rumor has it that Erica Sinclair gave you a run for your money.”

Harris picks up a yellow marker, furiously scribbling a circle in the left-hand corner of his paper. You try peering over to see the whole drawing, but he presses his whole body against the table, successfully thwarting your plans. “No peeking!” he warns, not putting his feet back on the ground until you’ve averted your gaze. “‘S a surprise.”

You put your hands up in surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll be surprised.” You raise your eyebrows at Eddie, who shares a similar response in return.

“Dunno when he got so bossy,” he snorts before calling out to his son, “Har-Bear? Five more minutes. We gotta get home to trick-or-treat with Grampa Wayne.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun!” you echo as Harris grabs a purple marker from the box. “What’s your favorite candy?”

“Hmm.” Harris uses his free hand–the one with the cast–to tap his chin, continuing to color with the other one. “M&Ms. But only the plain ones. Daddy doesn’t let me have the peanut ones ‘cause he says I could choke.”

You shoot a sly, knowing look at Eddie. “I’m sure that’s the only reason. Such a selfless father.” You cross your arms over your chest and cock your head innocently. “And what do you do with all of these confiscated peanut M&Ms, Mr. Munson? Donate them?” 

Eddie tucks his lips into his mouth to mask his grin. “Listen, the jig is gonna be up at some point,” he mumbles out of the corner of his mouth, loud enough so you can hear but soft enough that Harris can’t. “Let me enjoy my free candy while it lasts.”

“No judgment here,” you say with a small laugh, “they’re one of my favorites, too.”

“TA-DA!” Harris shouts, startling you, Eddie, and Will. He holds up the construction paper and smiles widely. To anyone without kids–or who didn’t teach preschool for a living–it would look like a bunch of colorful scribbles. But you can tell that he’s drawn a group of people standing by a tree (or a really, really tall flower) underneath the sun.

“Wow, Harris! That’s amazing!” you clap your hands together to punctuate your enthusiasm. “Who are all those people?”

Harris’s pointer finger travels left to right across the paper as he names each person: “That’s me, Grampa Wayne, Daddy, you, and Mr. Will!” The stick figure that represents you has a purple scribble on it, which you realize must be the costume you’re wearing. “An’ we’re all smiling because we’re happy!” Sure enough, each person has a curved red line at the bottom of their face. But there’s something else that catches your eye.

All of the people have a small space between them, except for you and Eddie. The circle that Harris drew to represent your left hand overlaps with the circle that is Eddie’s right. 

You glance at the real Eddie, and if he notices, he doesn’t give any indication. “I love it, buddy.” He takes the drawing and inspects it closely. “Yup, this one’s definitely going on the fridge when we get home.” He flicks the paper for good measure. “Go clean up the markers so we can head out, Axl Rose.”

Among the noise of markers clattering back in the bins, you lean in to Eddie, inadvertently inhaling the scent of his cigarettes and cologne. For a brief moment, you’re transported back to the night fate had led you to cross paths; the thought of his lips on your neck in the stairwell has you clenching your thighs and swallowing thickly as you murmur, “I can ask him to make a new one with just you, him, and his grandpa.”

Eddie shakes his head. “N-No. I like this one.” He lets one hand drop to his side and it grazes yours. His rings brush your knuckles, and you instinctively draw back at the sensation of the cool metal and the zing of heat that pulses at his light touch. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not making eye contact.

“S’okay.”

He blinks a few times and redirects his attention to his son. “What do you say to Mr. Will and Ms. Sweetheart for letting you do your art project?”

Harris’s little chest swells as he inhales deeply, storing up as much oxygen as he can fit in his lungs before bellowing, “THANK YOUUUUUUU!”

Eddie brings his palm to his ear canal, rotating his forefinger as though trying to repair a punctured eardrum. “Love the enthusiasm,” he says through gritted teeth. “Seriously, though. Thank you both so much.”

“Of course,” Will says warmly, picking up the marker bin and placing it in its space on the shelf.

“Anything for Harris.” You smile, motioning towards the little boy already by his father’s side. “Have fun trick-or-treating tonight, bud! I can’t wait to hear about all the yummy candy you got.”

Harris scrunches his nose in contemplation. “Are you going trick-or-treating, Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Nah,” you laugh, “I’m gonna stay home and give candy to all the kids who come by.” And pray that Grandma doesn’t curse them out, you silently add.

“Oh.” Harris pauses, grabbing his dad’s hand. “Okay, bye!”

Eddie chuckles as his son pulls him towards the door. “That’s my cue. Um, Happy Halloween,” he adds awkwardly, waving once before disappearing down the hallway.

There’s so much more that he wants to say: you’re the best; you saved the day; you should be my son’s teacher instead of that old, bitchy bat. But he didn’t have time. Maybe another day. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

Wayne arrives just a few minutes after Eddie and Harris get home. As soon as his gruff voice comes over the intercom, Harris excitedly buzzes him in. “Grampa Wayne’s here!” he yells, even though Eddie’s standing right next to him. He grabs the pillowcase from the couch; it was originally white, but after Eddie accidentally threw in a red sock with the white laundry, it’s tinted light pink.

No sooner does the older man cross the threshold into the apartment, Harris is trying to drag him out again. “Let’s go, before all the good candy is gone!” he whines. His eyebrows pinch together and he drops his grandfather’s hand. “Oh, wait, I gotta show you something.” He scampers off into the kitchen, and Wayne winces when he hears the rattle of magnets falling to the floor.

“I’m okay!” Harris calls out, running back with a piece of paper in his hand. “Look what I drawed at school today!” He gives Wayne the rundown of who’s who.

Wayne analyzes each person in the picture, stopping at the overlapping circles between you and Eddie. “This is great, Har-Bear,” he muses. “Are, um, are Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart holding hands?”

“Mhm,” Harris casually confirms, taking the drawing back. “��Cause they’re married.”

Eddie chokes on air as Wayne does a double-take. “Congrats, Ed,” he jokes, clapping a hand to his nephew’s shoulder. “Gotta say, I thought I’d at least get an invite.”

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Harris, why do you think that Ms. Sweetheart and I are married?” He wracks his brain for answers, but he can’t come to a logical conclusion. Did I talk about her in my sleep? Oh, shit, what if it was when I had that dream—

“Because you gived her a present,” Harris says, eyes innocent and wide. “And when grown-ups love each other, they give each other presents.”

“Oh, he gave Ms. Sweetheart a present, huh?” On the surface, Wayne’s words are as innocuous as Harris’s, but Eddie hears the teasing buried just beneath. 

Harris nods. “Mhm. He gived her a tape!”

“It was the Toni Braxton one that she came into the shop for…that day that, uh…” Eddie raises his eyebrows at his uncle, who nods in acknowledgment. He brings his focus back to his son. “It doesn’t mean that we’re married. People have to go on dates and fall in love before they get married.”

The young boy absorbs this information. “So you should go on dates and fall in love with Ms. Sweetheart!” His face lights up at the idea of it, and it breaks Eddie’s heart to let him down. 

So, he doesn’t. 

“Why don’t you hang that back up so we can get outta here and get you some candy, huh?” He forces a smile and watches his son scamper into the kitchen before turning back to Wayne and shaking his head. 

Harris peels a magnet off of the fridge, the one Eddie bought him on their Daddy-Son day. It has a sea lion balancing a beach ball on its snout, with HAWKINS ZOO printed in bolded letters along the bottom.  

Lowering his voice to a whisper, he speaks directly to his drawing. “When Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart fall in love and get married, I’ll finally have a mommy.” He presses his hand flat against the paper as though he’s sealing in the wish. He stays like that for a moment until his dad calls his name, and he clutches his pillow case as they head out the door. 

Eddie assumes that the love and marriage talk is done for the evening, but the feeling of relief doesn’t last long. The trio of Munson men is halfway down the stairwell when Wayne starts instigating. “Hey, Har, is Ms. Sweetheart pretty?”

“WAYNE!” Eddie grits his teeth and shoots a sharp look at his uncle. The last thing he needs is for Harris to get his hopes up about a blossoming romance between his dad and his former teacher. 

“Oh, yeah!” Harris gleefully agrees, oblivious to the mounting tension. He grips the railing and jumps from the second to last step onto the tiled landing below. “Super pretty! Like a princess.”

The eldest Munson turns to Eddie. “Didja hear that? Pretty like a princess.”

“I heard him,” Eddie replies tersely. 

“Daddy?”

No. Don’t ask me. Harris Wayne Munson, do not ask me what I think you’re going to—

“Do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty?”

Although he anticipated the question, Eddie still freezes. If he disagrees, Harris will inevitably want to know why not. And if he’s being honest with himself, he can’t name a single ugly thing about you. 

He does think you’re pretty. He thinks you’re beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. And even though he’s literally seen you naked, fully on display for him–a memory he revisits more often than he’s willing to admit–it’s the thought of what you did today that solidifies your beauty. The way you’d effortlessly calmed Harris down without Eddie even having to ask. The frown on his face almost instantly became a smile, the flow of his tears ceasing and turning into the giggles that brought sunlight into Eddie’s life. You did that.

Any woman can be sexy, but you? In that moment, you were perfect.

Fuck. 

“Daddy? Hello?”

At the sound of Harris’s voice, Eddie realizes that he physically hasn’t moved from his spot on the stairs. His hand is gripping the banister so tightly that it leaves an imprint in his palm. “Yeah, buddy,” he manages through his Sahara Desert throat. “I think Ms. Sweetheart’s pretty.”

“Like a princess?” Wayne’s eyes twinkle mischievously. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to tease his nephew about a crush, and he’s not passing up this limited opportunity. 

“Yeah. Like a princess.”

Education outsiders might think that Halloween is one of the worst days to be a teacher. The lethal combination of sugar and excitement barely contained in tiny costumed bodies seems like a recipe for disaster. But any teacher worth their salt will tell you that there is a day far, far worse than Halloween: November 1st. 

On Halloween, there is the expectation for fun. There’s a costume parade, classroom trick-or-treating, and even a little party. The kids are out of control, but who cares? It’s Halloween. 

But on November 1st, there is work to be done. And you’re expected to teach the months of the year to 10 four-year-olds who are suffering from candy hangovers and won’t stop asking why they can’t go trick-or-treating again today. 

You and Will are preparing for battle as students trickle in, excited to show off the candy stashes they acquired the night before. Abby Carver cries because she ate her Reese’s cup and now she’s sad that it’s gone. Joshua Harrington is continuing to “sling webs” at the other kids despite your incessant reminders that he is no longer Spider-Man. A fight over a KitKat bar breaks out not even five minutes into the day, and you confiscate it before someone causes serious bodily harm. 

Two fingers lightly tap on your shoulder—too high up to be a kid—and you whirl around with an irritated, “what?”

“Whoa,” Eddie says, concern etched into his otherwise soft features. He takes a small step back, nearly tripping over a rogue Lego that somehow made its way out of the toy area. He stumbles but catches his balance easily. “Everything okay?”

“‘S a warzone out here,” you try and joke, but you feel it fall flat. You’re too tired for humor. Grandma may not have yelled at the trick-or-treaters like you’d feared, but she did get increasingly angrier with each knock on the door. After the fifth time of her snarling at you to “shut the hell up” (like you could simultaneously be on both sides of the door), you’d relented and just put the candy bowl on the welcome mat, scribbling “TAKE ONE” on a yellow sticky note, adhering it to the plastic container. 

Two decades earlier, Halloween at Grandma’s house had a completely different connotation. She’d have a little pizza party all set up for you, and she’d buy a big bag of your favorite candy, in case you didn’t get enough during your door-to-door quests. And she’d always let you watch whatever spooky movie your heart desired, regardless of your parents’ rules. 

“That’s what grandmas are for,” she’d said with a wink, and the two of you curled up to watch Little Shop of Horrors. Her demeanor matched the hokey magnet on her fridge that read, If I knew how fun my grandkids would be, I would’ve had them first. You’d stay like that until you both fell asleep, only being roused by your parents arriving to pick you up. The good old days, before Grandma waking up involved watching the confusion in her eyes as she tried and failed to place you.

“C-Can I help you with something?” Your guard goes up immediately when you notice that Harris isn’t with him. The time you’d spent together after school yesterday had been nice, fun, even, but you couldn’t trust that today would be the same. Not after what happened a few short weeks ago. 

“I, um…I just swung by to give you this.” He reaches into the inner pocket of his denim jacket; it’s the same one that he lent to Harris when he’d forgotten his at home. A flash of yellow paper catches your eye, and he unfurls his palm to reveal a small bag of peanut M&Ms. “You said they were one of your favorites, right?”

You look at the treat, not willing to reach out and grab it. What if it’s a joke? An elaborate ploy to reel you in, just to shout “gotcha” when you finally let your walls come down?

“Are they poisoned or something?” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest. “Did you spike them with Ex-Lax?”

Eddie’s lips part in surprise before he collects himself. “Guess I deserve that,” he mumbles. “But, no. They’re not. I swear on James Hetfield’s life.” He drags his fingernail over his heart in an X-formation. 

You take the bag, inspecting it for any sign of tampering, but you come up short. The edges are sealed, and there are no pinpricks as far as your eyes can see. “Dipped into Harris’s stash for me?”

“Hey, these bad boys are technically mine for the taking until he figures out that he can eat them without dying.” Eddie chuckles lightly, peering at you through impossibly long lashes. “But, yeah, I was hoping you’d accept these as part of my apology. Or apologies, I guess. For, uh, for not calling when I said I would, and all of the awful shi—awful things I said to you.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he steps closer and says, “I am so fucking sorry.”

You make a small tear in the bag, tapping it against your palm until an M&M falls out. Popping the blue candy in your mouth, you allow the shell to start dissolving on your tongue before crunching on the peanut, hoping you can process what he’s said by the time you’re finished chewing. 

This is what you’ve been waiting for—an actual heartfelt apology. His brown eyes reflect nothing but shame and remorse, and you can tell by the way that he’s fidgeting with his rings that he’s anxiously awaiting your reply. 

His vulnerability softens you slightly, and considering you haven’t keeled over after ingesting the candy, you throw him a bone. 

“This fun size bag covers the ‘not calling’ part, but I’m gonna need a lot more candy if you want me to forgive you for what you said at the music store.” You keep your tone light; teasing, even, but there’s a layer of truth to it. He can’t merely waltz into your classroom with a gift and expect you to forget his hurtful words. 

Eddie nods, his frizzy curls brushing the tops of his denim-clas shoulders. “I know. I’ve said some pretty terrible things in my life, but that might’ve been the worst. And, um,” he fumbles his words, desperately searching for the right ones. Semantics has never been his forte. “You didn’t deserve that. It’s not true; your grandma didn’t want to forget you. And…neither do I.” When you raise your eyebrows, he starts to backtrack. “Because you’re so great with Harris; like, you understand him and stuff. He’s always talking about you.”

Daddy, do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty? The question replays like a song he can’t shake from his head, its melody familiar but the notes still keeping him on edge. Pretty like a princess, only instead of saving her, I’m the one who needs to be rescued. So much for Prince Charming, huh?

The M&M melts in your mouth while you formulate a response to his candid admission. Sweetness seeps into your taste buds as you try to straddle the line between careful consideration and overthinking. Speak too quickly and you might say something you’ll regret. Take too long and you’ll make this even more awkward.

“W-Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Short, simple, to the point. Your words are slightly slurred by the candy obstruction, but what else is there to say? You could add that you forgive him, but you’re truthfully not sure that you do. His words scarred, had taken your already mangled self-worth and snapped it into pieces, and so did his reasoning for hurting you. Despite the love and kindness you’d shown his son, Eddie had fully believed that you were responsible for spreading personal information that would wound him. It was exactly as Jeff had said: Eddie struck below the belt at the first sign of conflict, so determined to protect himself that he didn’t even realize that he was attacking the people on his side.

The sound of books clattering to the floor snatches your attention from him, and you whip your head to your little classroom library to see two kids standing over a pile of fallen books, guilty looks stamped on their faces. “I’ve gotta go,” you blurt out, dashing off to assess the damage. You’ve never been so grateful for your students causing mischief.

The hour hand crawls to the number two; at one point, you swore the clock was moving backwards. The chaos of the morning was only a preview of the rest of the day’s fiascos, but you and Will had navigated as best as you could.

“Jesus,” he murmurs once the kids have all been dismissed, gingerly rubbing his temples, “that was brutal. I can handle the day after Halloween; I can handle Fridays, but when they coincide? Nope, never again.” He slumps into a chair dramatically, letting his arms drape over the sides.

“Gonna have a glass of wine when you get home?” you joke, wiping Play-Doh residue from a tabletop.

Will nods. “Or a whole bottle.” His focus shifts to your desk, and he nods his chin in that direction. “I see you have something to look forward to tonight, too.”

You follow his gaze, widening your eyes when you see the object he’s referring to. A bag of peanut M&Ms–much bigger than the one you’d inhaled this morning–sits on top of your desk calendar; resting next to it is a cassette. You walk over, curiosity getting the better of you. The cassette is Guns N’ Roses’ Appetite for Destruction; you recognize the iconic cover as soon as it comes into view. It’s not your usual music choice, but you’ll listen to almost anything.

There’s a piece of paper taped to the giant yellow M&M bag, folded in equal triads. Messily scrawled across the front in black ink is Ms. Sweetheart. You gently pull the adhesive loose and open the letter, nervously running your forefinger across the irregular edge where it was obviously torn from a composition notebook.

Fun size mistake=fun size bag of candy

Family size mistake=family size bag of candy

I’m really good at fucking things up, but really bad at fixing them. I wish I could say that I didn’t mean to hurt you, but we both know that I did. 

You don’t have to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am. 

-Eddie

P.S. Not sure if hard rock is your thing, but I saw this at work and it reminded me of the kindness you showed our favorite little Axl Rose yesterday.

“Who’s it from?” Will asks, breaking into your thoughts. “A secret admirer?” He brings his clasped hands to his cheek in mock dreaminess.

You manage a laugh as you fold the note back up and tuck it under the calendar. “If it is, he’s really bad at it, because he signed his name.” When did he even sneak in here to do this? Kind of scary that someone could walk in and you didn’t even notice.

“Aha! So it is a guy!” Will pumps his fist triumphantly, though you’re not quite sure what he thinks he’s won.

“Just Eddie Munson, thanking us for letting Harris draw here yesterday.” 

It’s not a total lie, but Will sees right through it. “Uh-huh. Thanking us? So that note is also for me? Can I read it?” He starts towards your desk, outstretched hand reaching towards where you’d tried to hide it, but you playfully swat them away.

You glance at the clock and frown. “If you leave a little early, I won’t tell anyone.”

Will flips you off; over the last two months, you two had developed a sibling-esque relationship that came out more once the kids had left for the day. He grabs his backpack from the supply closet and slings it over his shoulders. “You’re lucky I’m exhausted, or I’d stick around and keep bothering you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes, knowing full well that he’s itching to leave regardless. “Gotta save up your energy for when Marshall visits.”

Will blushes at the mention of his long-distance boyfriend’s name. He still wasn’t out to many people, but when you’d casually mentioned the date Jess had with a girl named Robin, he’d felt comfortable opening up to you. “I can’t wait!” His grin is so wide you swear it’ll stretch right off of his face. “Thanks again; you’re the best.”

That leaves you alone with your gigantic bag of candy, a Guns N’ Roses cassette, and an apology that you have no idea what to do with.

Once again, Eddie Munson has given you more questions than answers.

--

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[erenoir]

𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

��� 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚏𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚣𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛

genre: single father!toji, slow burn, angst then fluff, nsfw, MDNI

warnings: 18+ dark content, alcoholism, breeding kink, daddy/mommy titles used, unprotected sex, oral sex, verbal fighting, discussions of abandonment, initial toxic relationship, light gun use.

featuring: toji x fem step-mom!reader

summary: you and toji had met each other at your worst, twin flames fueling each other’s bad habits. you spent weeks upon weeks as on-and-off fuck buddies, manipulating and using each other before throwing one another to the curb again. nothing could save the turbulent relationship of a touch-deprived woman and a man afraid of love, never daring to wave your white flags to one another… until the night toji dropped a bomb that would make or break the two of you forever. | find it on ao3: [☆]

word count: 14.9k

a/n: tell jesus that the bitch is back- i’m kidding! no but really, its been a long year (or more?) of me being away from this blog. i haven't done this in a while, but i have too many delusions and thoughts to not make them into stories, i missed writing too much. anyways, if you like this: reblog, comment, check out my other stuff, etc! luv u xx send toji thirsts in honor of szn 2

“Okay now Megs, daddy and I will be back tomorrow morning, okay?” 

Your knees pressed into the cold floor as your fingers tangled themselves in your stepson’s wild, raven locks. The little boy stuck his bottom lip out in protest, your heart swelling at the sight of it. Your thumb met his velvety skin as you stopped a tear from rolling any further down his rouged cheek. 

“I don’t want you and daddy to go!” He wailed, a tiny voice strained with big emotions. The glum boy ran into your open arms, clinging to you like velcro. The creamy silk of your blazer swept across the nape of his neck as you enveloped him into a cozy embrace.

“Oh Megumi, you’ll be alright! Your father and I will just be away for the night. Then tomorrow… I can make you all the pancakes in the world for dinner!” His eyebrows knit together and his rosy nose scrunched up as you shook his face in your hands. Little Megumi's messy, toothless grin punctured your heart so deeply. You adored the boy endlessly, even if he wasn’t your son by blood, a connection so spirited manifested itself between the two of you. 

“Really mommy?! Do you really mean all of the pancakes in the world?” You let a gentle fingertip feather itself across the tip of Megumi’s nose as you rose to your feet to ruffle the boy’s hair, “Of course I mean it baby! Daddy will do whatever it takes to get you every last drop of pancake batter in the whole, wide, world… isn’t that right, honey?”

You shifted your weight to your left foot to get a good look at Toji, Megumi’s father. He planted himself in his usual crushed velvet armchair that rested in front of the fireplace, thighs sprawled out across the plush cushion. His cheek sunk into the palm of his hand as he ogled at his precious family. 

All mine, Toji thought, all fucking mine. 

The brooding man sauntered up to you two with ardency, his husky arms snaking around your waist, pulling your backside into his chest and placing a wet kiss to the crook of your neck. Toji rested his hand atop of Megumi’s hair, nearly drowning your little one’s head with its size. You gazed on dotingly as your lover’s biceps contracted when he picked up your son, cooing him into a comfortable silence. The fireplace illuminated the quaint living space an intimate shade of orange, fractals of light bouncing off of the most hidden corners of the room. The shadow of your lover danced across the walls as he rocked the raven-haired child to sleep. You massaged red fingernails into his burly shoulders, feeling the fabric of his black t-shirt ripple between your fingertips.

“We’re so lucky, aren’t we?” You purred into Toji’s neck as you two caressed the light of your lives, sound asleep in his arms. Toji peered over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of you, watching your maternal instincts consume your body as you outstretched your soft hands to the boy. Something within Toji burst in that moment, seeing his lover care for his child as if he were her own. 

“Let me take him to bed, my love.” Dark eyes trailed your steps attentively, watching your hips sway as you cradled his son in your nimble arms, your tender hand nurturing the back of his head, holding it tightly to your chest. His pupils dilated when you started whispering lullabies into Megumi’s ear. A  series of “Mommy loves you,” and “I’ve got you my baby,” made Toji’s jaw clench and every part of him swell with adoration.

—

You once arrived in Toji’s life as a fiery little creature. Wild, uncaring, and foaming at the mouth for attention. He didn’t see you as anything other than a friend with benefits. It was a fair exchange, Toji satiated your need for unhealthy attention as a girl disowned by her distant parents, and you satiated his need for a little rag doll as a hitman with a severe lack of emotional intelligence. He needed a woman that would do most anything to please him and receive the gratification she so desperately craved in return. Room 4C, that was the room you two would run away to every weekend. 

It was a malignant relationship you had, you were unabashedly toxic to one another. Toji would show up drunk on most occasions, and you would allow him to do whatever he wanted to your feeble little body and enjoy every second of it. You would fight just to see who could scream louder, until the misty light from the sun rising sliced through the cracks of the thick curtains. The old motel would’ve kicked you two out if it weren’t for how much business you brought them. Your eyes stung with crazed tears, both of pleasure and pain, and Toji was the one that induced them every time. Every smack to the cheek was met with a tender kiss, and every “I hate you,” was met with a chorus of apologies. You loved each other in wicked ways, but you loved each other nonetheless. You pushed as Toji pulled, never could either of you find a moment of peace to let your fragile emotions rest.

That was until one night where you asked Toji to meet you in your usual room, at your usual time, 8 p.m. Only that night had you two finally waved your white flags and extinguished your venomous behavior to one another.

—

Your toes were painted a wine red as they ran through the fuzzy carpet below you, feet swinging over the twin-sized motel bed. Rain rushed the windows with fervor, the storm warning you had received this morning not clicking in your brain until that very moment. The muffled voices of the news anchors suffocated your eardrums as they grew louder. The silence in the room was painstaking and you didn’t know how much longer you could last solely listening to the rhythmic drips of the leaking bathroom sink. Your eyelids began to droop as the neon leds of the plastic alarm clock flicked from 8:59 to 9:00. The stiff sheets felt like royal silk at that moment, sleep threatening to consume your body. The room around you shut on and off, eyelids blinking slowly, and your mouth dipping into the slightest “o” shape. the cotton of your t-shirt rode up your thighs as you slid yourself under the covers. Toji isn’t coming tonight, truthfully, the thought grazed your mind when it had only been ten minutes after 8, Toji was never any more tardy than that. But as you watched the clock now switch from 9:04 to 9:05, the hint of betrayal that had felt like a pin prick before now felt like you’d just been gutted. 

Your body was swallowed in the darkness of the motel room, though you did leave the news on, maybe the late night anchors could keep you company in your lover’s absence. In your dream you saw the dark eyes that taunted you into submission. How pathetic was it to dream about a man who couldn’t care less about you besides what you had underneath your underwear? In your dream you were running, your earthly body was riddled with cold sweats and shivering into oblivion, you heard pounding, it grew rapidly with every step you took, the beat of your heart staying in time, though the pounding felt too real to be fabricated through your imagination alone.

Then your body jolted awake to a vigorous gust of wind, and suddenly the banging became real, and whoever demanded that kind of attention from you at midnight was about to receive a pounding to their face. With your eyes cloudy and vision blurred, you tried to adjust to the dark blue of your surroundings. 

“Ah, shit!” The stark yellow light of the bedside lamp blinded you, a shaky hand rested on your forehead to act as a shield to the harsh, artificial rays. The comforter of the rigid bed you laid on grew wet, rainwater dripping from the dark figure that stood above your tired body. 

“T-Toji?” You stammered into the abyss, you had no courage to look up and see who had woken you up from your restless slumber. After all, you didn’t want the last thing you saw to be your murderer. 

“No, it’s Megumi,” your hand snapped to your side to see from whom such a soft voice was emitted. Above you stood a small boy with porcelain skin and raven hair, he couldn’t have been more than 6 years old.

My god, you thought, he looks just like-

“Toji is my dad, he said to wait in this room while he- while he got m-more of his happy juice… s-so he pushed me through th-that window a-and n-now my knee is bleeding!”

The young boy who tried to remain stoic eventually broke into a fit of relentless tears. He's a child, he’s a- he’s Toji’s… Toji has a child. Your brain went through the motions, trying to ride every wave of the ocean it was thrown into. 

Until one of those waves truly hit you- and you realized that there was a fucking child in your room.

And all of the sorrow you felt for the boy had turned into pure, unadulterated rage for his poor excuse of a father. 

You peeled yourself from the bed and tripped over the legs of your jeans as you tried to shrug them on while making your way to the door. Your hand stopped at the knob before turning to the kid. 

“Fuck… don’t go anywhere, okay kid?” You mumbled as you fished the pack of Marlboro's from the back pocket of your Levi’s and jammed one into your mouth, busting through the door and into the rainy parking lot… search frantically- ferally, for the one person you were dying to see most.

“Where the FUCK are you?! You asshole!” You screamed, voice cracking. “Show your fucking face you… you coward!” You were speechless, running to the middle of the parking lot, and scanning every dark car for someone hiding out- hiding from you. The rain sunk through your tank top, goosebumps pricking your skin, and then next you felt the tears. He was the last person you wanted to cry for, he didn’t deserve it, the fucker would probably enjoy it if you didn’t know him any better.

“Fuck you!” You seethed, bare feet taking you in circles around the flooded lot. “Fuck! You! I hate you!” The tears finally poked through, staining your cheeks with old mascara.

“You always do this shit Toji Fushiguro! I hope you’re fucking dead! You fucking deadbeat father!”

–

After twenty minutes of your parking lot charades, the motel manager had to nearly drag you back to your room- a freezing cold, screaming maniac. The boy- Megumi, was sitting next to you cross-legged on the bed with a patched up knee and an ice cream sandwich from the vending machine three rooms down. He hummed to the tune of the children’s show that played on the television, swaying back and forth in contentment. The fact that you were babysitting the child of the man that you were fuck buddies with amused you as you scoffed to yourself. 

“You know… your dad didn’t tell me had a kid,” the little boy’s attention remained fixed on the screen, ignoring you completely while his dark eyes memorized the flashes of color and cartoons in front of him. Hm, he really is Toji’s kid. 

“How's your knee, Megs?” Your fingers ran across the pink bandaid you’d stuck over his scrape, making sure the adhesive wasn’t lifting off of his damp skin. Vanilla filling seeped through Megumi’s tiny fingers. Chocolate crumbles littered his plump cheeks as he stuck the final bite of his ice cream sandwich in his mouth, stuffing his cheeks full. 

“My knee is fine!” He mumbled through a full mouth, patting his sticky palm over his wound. Your mind toyed with the idea of whether or not now was a good time to mention his father again, but knowing Toji, if you didn’t mention him he wouldn’t even bother coming back. So keeping the boy’s best interest at heart, you casually brought up his father’s name for a second time. 

“Megumi… can you tell me where your dad is?” You folded your hands in your lap as you awaited his response. Tears pricked at the boy’s gloomy eyes, a storm just as tumultuous was raging in him as it was outside. Messy palms wiped themselves across his white race car shirt, before they came up to wipe at his face.

“I-I told you… he s-said he was going to get more of his happy juice… he said to wait here with a lady named ___. Th-that’s what he said to do!”

Megumi’s quiet words turned into an erratic tantrum. Tears flooded his eyes as he snorted up a wad of snot, the race car on his shirt slowly starting to drive on wet roads. You were going to kill Toji. You didn’t give a crap about the way he treated you anymore, he had a child who was helpless. And god knows the child was helpless if the person Toji decided to leave him with was you. 

The docile boy leaned sweetly into your arms, begging for some form of comfort, it was evident that he’d never received any from his own father before. The sleeves of your sweater moved hesitantly to wrap themselves around Megumi’s shaking body, afraid that if you were to embrace him fully the dam that’s been holding back all of your emotions would suddenly break. It wasn’t your place to nurture this child, it wasn’t your place to offer him another outlet for parental guidance. But as you sat at the edge of the motel bed with the little boy, it felt as if you were sitting at the edge of a cliff, and you could either sink or swim with Megumi’s life in your hands. The moment you felt his frail arms hug you back, the dam fell, and you were in too deep to stop giving a fuck now. 

You brought a hand to his wild hair. It stuck up in all directions, he told you earlier that he stole some gel from his dad’s bathroom, and that Toji let him do it however he wanted to. You remember laughing at that, seemingly because it sounded like something Toji would say. Your cheek felt cool against the top of his head, his hair still drying from the torrential storm that brewed just outside the window. Every string inside of you that was holding your emotional state together at the seams had ripped in two as Megumi began to sob more violently than before. His red cheeks moved from right to left across your sweater, wiping snot, drool and tears all over you. With thoughts clouded and the slightest knowledge of how to take care of a child flying out the window, you began to panic. Toji had left his offspring, his flesh and blood, with you, his emotionally corrupted, immature, and attention deprived fuck buddy. 

Why?

With tender hands you tuck the covers under Megumi’s petite body. Your heart crumbled completely when you saw how the tears dried on Megumi’s cheeks, how his breathing was congested with mucus, and how his swollen eyes twitched in his sleep. He was having a nightmare. The bed dipped in as you sat beside him and ran fragile fingers over his forehead, sweeping his long hair out of his eyes. For the first time that night you let tears fall from your eyes, as you gazed at the broken child with an instinct to care for him, to help him grow, if Toji wasn’t going to be there to do it. You watched as Megumi’s body relaxed under your touch, his breathing smooth, and his eyebrows drooping. A small smile formed on your face, it was time to fake happiness for this boy, if it meant that he would be okay.

“He’s a g-good kid r-ight?” Your head snapped up as Toji’s overbearing body stumbled through the window, his hand desperately grasping for some kind of support from the wall. God, you really needed to lock that fucking window or god knows what other Fushiguro would trip through it. 

An animosity so intense boiled within you, clawing at your stomach, dying to be taken out on the drunken man stood in front of you. The tears returned to your eyes, his silhouette doubled as your vision blurred. 

“D-don’t you fucking come near me you asshole,” you whispered, there were no words in the world that could’ve described how badly you wanted to scream at Toji until his eardrums popped. Alas you couldn’t… you couldn’t let Megumi see his father like this. 

“Exc-use me but I'd l-like to see my-my son,” words slurred out of his wet lips, a line of saliva falling out of the corner of his mouth. 

“Toji… don’t even think for a second I’d let you near him,” your delicate hands pushed against his steel chest, helplessly punching into him to stop him in his tracks. His strong hands wrapped themselves around your wrists tightly as he looked you in the eyes with an intoxicated heat. 

“Toji… why? Why wouldn’t you tell me you had a fucking child? Is this who you ran away from every weekend we spent together?” Your hand shakily pointed to little Megumi’s sleeping body, “Do you understand how fucked up that makes me feel? How fucked up that makes you? God! I knew you were a piece of shit but Toji… this is rich, this is- this is the icing on the fucking cake… you disgust me!” You whispered as Toji’s hands repositioned themselves to cup your cheeks, his calloused thumbs coming to wipe the lines of mascara running down your face. Although blank and empty, his stare alone spoke a thousand words.

It told you that he was broken, that he was filled to the brink with regret, that he hated- no, absolutely loathed himself. Toji knew he was a piece of shit, he knew he was wrong for hiding his son from you, and he knew he was wrong for hiding you from his son. He had lasted long enough pushing everything under a compact rug until it couldn’t hold much more, and now every fucked up thing in his life was catching up to him, and you were watching it happen right in this depressing, wet, and cramped motel room.

“I-I didn’t know wh-where else to bring him, I-I mean look at me I can’t be with him right now…” Toji fell to his knees and gripped your calves with his hands, crying into the damp denim of your jeans. You stood stiff, frozen in place and in disbelief at what was happening. The brazen man that you knew so well, that dripped with confidence, with ego, with a sense of security, had shattered completely. Toji’s back muscles contracted as he dry heaved onto the floor, the contents of his stomach just missing your feet. He looked up at you with an empty expression. Snot was dripping out of his nose, his jaw was trembling and his face was littered with tears and red splotches.

“Toji-” You reached for him.

“No… please hear m- me out…”

“I'll listen to you… outside…” You fired, “I’m not- I refuse to do this here when your son is sleeping right there!” You hoisted his body up off the floor as the two of you staggered into the storm. He leaned his body up against the door to 4C as you closed it, boring holes into your head, desperate for you to say anything. You wrapped your sweater around you tighter as rain propelled towards your shivering bodies. You two must have looked mad… drenched, drunken and depressed, in the middle of a storm, enveloped in darkness, hugging yourselves as if that would be of any help. Only the light of the moon and from the other motel rooms made it possible for you to see Toji’s face. The sounds of his rabid sobs mixed with the intensity of the rain pelting the ground, the freezing winds icing over his face sobered him up a bit. Toji began speaking as you looked down at your bare feet once again being swallowed by the wet pavement.

“I don’t trust anyone else,” Toji burns a hole into the parking lot with his stare, watching it flood slowly, he didn't have the guts to look at you, not yet. The single traffic light across the street whipped back and forth in the wind, streaks of light painting the foggy air. You leaned up against the door next to Toji, your tiny body being engulfed by his large, shaking one.

“…I didn’t trust a-anyone else w-with Megumi, I’m a threat to my own fucking kid, can you believe that?” You thought about it for a second, and you could completely believe it, the fact that Toji hid his son from you for this long should’ve spoken for itself. Your somber silhouettes shivered against the outside of the motel, both of your minds racing to deliberate how you would work yourselves through this mess. You almost wanted to laugh, the last people on this earth you would expect to be parents were you and Toji. With the breath kicked out of you, you slid down to the pavement and let yourself hit the ground. You hugged your knees with your shuddering hands and watched the cars slowly maneuver their way around the dimly lit parking lot. Toji’s hand navigates its way to the top of your head and smooths his fingers over your hair.

“Toji… I just have so many questions-”

“So ask them,” for once you looked at him with soft eyes, his voice trembled every time he spoke, you could try to fill the shell of a fractured man with love, with empathy, but everything you could possibly give him would just seep through the cracks of his ego. 

“…I keep my circles small… so I didn’t have many options of who to leave the kid with… you’re the only person that I’ve allowed myself to get close to…” He ran a hand over his face, his body began to sink down next to you, extending his legs flat to the ground as his pants soaked with rainwater, “and you haven’t rejected me yet so I threw one more thing on you… is that okay?” 

Was it okay? Of all the fucked up things you and Toji have done together, you scoffed in disbelief as your hands began to trace circles on the flooding ground beneath you, swirling rainwater in between your fingers.

“…and his mother?” Your voice cracked as your heart sank at what you could only predict his answer would be. Toji's jaw stiffened, grinding it back and forth as he reached for a pack of soggy cigarettes from his back pocket. 

“Shit,” he muttered. He rung out the pack of smokes in his strong hold, the damp paper pushing between the cracks of his fingers. You looked at him and he looked straight ahead, watching small ripples form in the puddles of water upon impact from the rain.

“She’s dead… died when he was just born,” your chest weakened at his words, eyes overwhelmed with sorrow. Toji's lips began to tremble as he tried to bite back his tears. He was tired of crying, tired of not being strong anymore, and tired of not being a good father, for that’s the strongest thing a man could ever be. 

“…So the kid got stuck with me… he- I don’t deserve him, I don’t deserve to be a father to a kid as good as him…” In his most vulnerable state, you chalked up the courage to take his hand in yours and rub your thumb over his scarlet knuckles. You sat like that for a while, legs sprawled out over the drenched concrete, the ends of your feet grazing each other ever so softly.

“Toji…” your voice came out barely above a whisper, “…don’t say that… Megumi needs you,” Toji’s breath hitched in his chest as he coughed back the urge to cry anymore, “Megumi needs you to get better for him… that kid- he looks up to you so fucking much. He sat next to me for an hour talking about you alone.”

You pulled your knees into your chest and buried them under your sweater to shield your icy legs from the cold. You felt Toji’s blue eyes burn holes into the side of your head, he was desperate for any taste of guidance.

“You’re lying… the kid barely knows me, he”-

“So help him know you! Toji you can’t fucking give up on that kid… and you sure as hell can’t dump him on me and expect me to make up for the years you neglected him! I won’t fucking do it, not without you…” Your screams broke into a whisper. 

You wanted Toji. You wanted him a month ago when he was just an asshole without a kid, and you want him now that he’s just an asshole with a kid. You shifted your body to sit closer to his, his silhouette swallowing yours in size as you curled up next to him on the concrete. Resting your head on his shoulder, he inched his hand towards yours to lift your knuckles to his lips and kiss them gently, one by one.

“Toji…” you continued, your eyes not leaving the ground, “I want to be with you, I want to love you- and if Megumi comes with you I’ll love him too… that’s what you’re asking of me, yeah?” You lifted your head to look at him, leaving your faces only inches apart as you gazed into each other’s eyes. Toji nodded his head slowly, he never asked for help, it was a sign of vulnerability. But the kid was the only exception for Toji, he always has been. He'd always absorb everything like a sponge until he physically couldn’t hold any more dirty water, tearing every time he had to ring out all of his baggage. 

“You wanna know why you’re an asshole?” You’re probed, finally striking a light on one of his gnarly cigs and blowing the smoke onto his face. The scarred corner of his mouth twitched upward, enough for only you to notice. 

“Pray tell, doll.” He chuckled in a husky voice, his calloused hand reaching for the cigarette you held before you smacked it away. He scoffed, “That came from my pack, you know?” 

“The least you could do for me is bum me a cig, no?” You jabbed, the burning cherry hanging from your fingers as your hand bounced around with your words. 

Silence. 

“Well… you’re an asshole Fushiguro…” You continued without any more permission, hesitant to tell him what you wanted to. You feared you’d opened up too much already. Your tongue dragged over your teeth as you worked out your next sentence. 

“You-“ You took a long drag, “You are a raging dick, actually. Because-” you paused to look over at him, and surprisingly enough, you had his complete attention. And his eyes weren’t hardened but- soft. And his breathing was less ragged than it was ten minutes ago. You swallowed hard as his eyes dropped to your mouth. 

“You know you could hop on the next train out of here with no intention of seeing me again…” You whispered. “And I’d fucking love the shit out of that kid regardless, right?” He smirked at your choice of words, Toji tried hard not to love things, in the end everything he gets close to fades away and dies. But he believed that he loved you, and he loved the way you were prepared to drop everything to nurture the most secret part of his life. All he could do was stare at your face, gentle, warm, and glowing in the rain. Though it felt like the whole world was after him he felt safe next to you, and he despised the feeling, for it meant that he was prepared to give himself to someone for a second time, and he wasn’t ready to lose another. 

“And that’s why I left him with you,” he smirked. He winced as you smacked him across the face, your eyes wide and feral.

“Yeah I know, I know that’s why you did it you fuck!” You scream-whispered, still mindful of Megumi just behind the door. “But don’t expect me to be- h-hot shit at this mother thing- I won’t hesitate to throw you under the bus if it means protecting him!” 

You were standing now, and you were pacing, and reality was hitting you, and the adrenaline rush you were riding for the past thirty minutes was wearing off and you were scared. Your hand shook as you rose the dwindling cigarette to your lips, your body shaking from both the rain and the kiss of reality. Struggling to inhale from the damp bud, Toji cut off your train of thought.

“I know you won’t, that’s why I left him with you,” he said sternly, his figure now towering over yours. He grabbed his face in your hands, and it was just as much a loving act as it was a ‘I need you to get your head on straight and focus’ act. He pushed your cheeks in and shook your face ever so slightly, “You listen to me- That. Is. Why. I. Left. Him. With. You.” 

He spoke roughly, dividing every word with a quick pause so you could get it through your head. He pressed his forehead to yours so you were eye to eye. “Hey,” he brushed some matted hair away from your wet forehead. You knew he saw the tears welling in your eyes, and you wish you could push him away so he could never see you cry again. But you couldn’t, you felt that you loved him far too much to do that. Your shoulders shook as you let them fall, you cursed yourself for letting it happen. 

“Fucking listen to me,” Toji jabbed, “I left him with you because you- you don’t fear me. You will throw me under the bus, you’ll push me in front of a fucking train, for that kid,” he actually laughed at the thought, “I know no other person that will hold me accountable- even if it meant my bloody death.” 

You shook yourself out of his hold, throwing your burnt out cigarette on the ground between you two, setting an imaginary border so you could think clearly away from him. 

“Are you sober enough to hear me out?” You asked quietly but not lacking any ounce of aggression. 

“Since you slapped the living shit out of me? I’d say I’m pretty okay,” Toji took one step towards you before you stopped him in his tracks.

“You stay over there and you listen to me,” you growled. You nervously rung out your hands, pulling on every knuckle and joint while you spoke. 

“… I hope you don’t… run away.” You paused, “No- actually, you will not run away,” Your words left your mouth like you were prophesying commandments to a lost disciple. “He needs you with him, Toji. He is tired of you disappearing.”

Toji listened to you like your voice was the last thing he’d hear in his life, yet he wanted you to stop talking. The more you spoke the more bound to the tracks he felt, and he had never been bound to anything before, he did as he pleased, always. So Toji prayed you wouldn’t utter another word that would keep him here. He had to leave, if he stayed you would get hurt, that’s how it always went. But with every word that left your mouth you pulled him in and glued him to the ground he stood on. 

He let out an exasperated sigh as you wrapped a hand in his hair, using it as leverage to push your foreheads back together. He was speechless, there was so much he could say to you, to convince you to kick him to the curb, but his words were stuck in his throat.

“I am tired of you disappearing,” the ropes that kept his body bound to the tracks drew tighter, and in the distance he saw the headlights of a train inching closer by the second.  

“I know you think it’s hopeless, that it’s not even worth trying, but your son having any shot at living a normal life is worth fighting for… Toji, please-” 

And then the train struck him, just as promised, this wouldn’t be the last one you pushed him in front of. 

Your grip on Toji’s hair loosened as his lips crushed themselves onto yours. He pulled you closer, needed you closer, hugging you into his chest as you caressed the sides of his face with your hands, thumbs rubbing at his scarred cheekbones. You tasted like salvation. Toji knew deep down that you were his salvation. 

“I’m not asking you to fix me, I’m way past that- I'm just asking you to be patient… for the kid.” He whispered against your lips, the tears that littered your cheeks dampened his. “I care…” he swallowed his words, “...I care about you- alot.”

“Jesus fuck, did it kill you to say that?” For the first time that night you laughed genuinely, and Toji’s mind was clear. It was carved in stone, he had claimed you and now he’s responsible for your life now, alongside Megumi’s. He raised his hands off your hips as if you were a fragile porcelain doll, too afraid to hurt you now that he’s held you- truly, held you. You looked at him questioningly, already missing the feeling of his skin against yours.

“I don't want you to get hurt… I don’t want Megumi to lose anyone else, he needs something I’m afraid I can’t give to him-”

“Shut up,” your eyebrows furrowed together as you shook his head gently, “Don’t go there… you dumb fuck,” bringing his lips to yours once more, he finally released under your touch, the feeling of you safe and in his arms put his restless thoughts to bed.

“I'm here, Megumi is sleeping soundly inside… we’re gonna be okay. Everything is a fucking mess. Because you did kind of fuck it, but we’ll figure it out,” you insisted, taking his hands in yours and placing them on your heart. Toji dropped his head to the crook of your neck and closed his eyes as the soft thump of your heartbeat grazed against his fingertips.

“Do you feel that? I’m alive you asshole… I’m not dead yet.”

—-

Toji knew you would stick around for a while.

He was right, because here you were, two years later, with Megumi cradled in your arms as you carried him up the winding steps of your Victorian home, placing soft kisses on his forehead and lulling him to sleep. Today was the anniversary of that night at the motel, when you met Megumi for the first time and decided to help Toji care for him even when you were entirely lost yourself. You haven’t been back there since, you three left the next morning on a train and never looked back. You told Toji that if you did it would be bad luck, so he kept moving forward for you and his son, to finally give him a life he deserved. But tonight you two thought it would be nice to visit one more time, on your anniversary, just for old time’s sake.

Toji watched as you tiptoed back down the steps and gave him a gentle thumbs up, signaling that Megumi had finally fallen asleep. Toji wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up into him, peppering kisses all over your blushing face. You placed a sloppy kiss onto his lips before jumping down and giving him a little twirl.

“C’mon baby, let’s go!” You wrapped your hand in his and dragged him to the door. His face relaxed into a content smile, after all this time, his little bird was still as free as ever.

—

Around your neck you donned a good locket that Toji had gotten you for your birthday, it moved up and down against your chest as you took deep breaths standing in front of an old friend. The door to room 4C looked just as you left it, with a few more cracks here and there. Your body shuddered as you looked down at the ground in front of it, still feeling the presence of your younger self clad in a drenched sweater, curled up next to a younger, drunken Toji. A warm smile spread across your face as you remembered how scared you two were, unsure of the world and without a plan, shivering in the pouring rain as you thought about your futures together. 

Tonight the sky was clear, the only thing that surrounded you was the sound of cicadas singing. You looked up to your side as you felt Toji’s fingers intertwined with yours, holding onto your hand loosely. He looked down at you and smirked, although you two were much more mature and cared about whether you lost your lives or not for Megumi’s sake, deep down you two would always be the notorious fuck-ups that happened to fit perfectly together.

“Wanna wreck some havoc one last time?” he asked you. You giggled as your hand twirled the brass doorknob, entering the room that you and Toji made love in more times than you could count, the room that you got high in, got drunk in, the room that you fought in, that you threw television remotes at each other in… the room that you eventually fell in love in.

Your fingertips grazed the stiff blankets, the cherry red countertops, the cheap coffee maker, as you took every detail in. Everything was left just the way it was on the night. You let out a chuckle underneath your breath as you sunk your fingers into the mattress, remembering how Megumi’s body slept here soundly as you and Toji decided what the fuck you were to make of yourselves just outside.

“I'm glad you pushed Megumi in here that night…” you whispered as you lifted the blanket up, they could never remove the stain of his chocolate ice cream sandwich from the white sheets. Toji watched as you reminisced, taking in every inch of you, before your eyes finally met as you dragged your gaze across the tacky flower paintings that decorated the walls. Your eyes rested on his face as you drank the sight of him in. Toji was happy, he was at peace with what his life had turned out to be.

“The way it all happened was absolutely fucking ridiculous I hope you know that…” You rolled your eyes at him as he crossed his arms and leaned up against the kitschy wallpaper. “...but I wouldn't change a thing, it happened the way it did for a reason.” 

He watched as your hips swayed back and forth underneath your black slip dress, his heartbeat speeding up as you draped your arms around his neck and leaned him further back into the wall. Toji, the hardened man that could effortlessly punch through anything that looked at him the wrong way, softened immediately when he was with you. You were his biggest source of strength, but his ultimate weakness nonetheless.

“Hold me, Toji,” you whispered as you brought your lips to his, feeling his brute arms tie themselves around your tiny waist, “…I love you baby,” you murmured as your lips moved against his.

“Thank you,” Toji had spoken for the first time since you two entered the room, too enamored with you to form any coherent words until this point. He watched as the orange light from the bedside table illuminated the back of your head, the halo of light framed your face like an angel.

“What?” you continued to pepper kisses all over his face, gently alternating back and forth from each cheek as your fingers played with his dark hair.

“For saving me… for loving Megumi… you didn’t have to fucking do that… you could’ve been free but you chose this life,” he pulled you up into him, shoving his face into your neck and taking in your scent. Toji was deathly afraid of losing you, so when he held you, he held you like it was going to be the last time he’d ever get to. You were his second chance at life, and if he could, he’d have you by his side forever.

“And I wouldn’t have chosen any different.” You croaked, your fingernails grazing the back of his neck. 

“I wanted you then Toji and I still want you now, heaven and hell would have to meet on this earth to get me to stop loving you…” Your words were barely above a whisper, making sure they were for him and only him. Toji’s lips began to move against your neck and his hand tugged your head back by your hair, giving him more room to mark you. 

“Toji, plea-“ You whined breathlessly, eyebrows furrowing together as everything inside you became bubbly and grew more sensitive with every touch. 

“Have you ever thought about…” His lips paused against your neck, his grip on you tightening before he let up, “Fuck it, nevermind.” He shut himself down before he could even finish his thought. You nudged his head out from where it was hiding on your shoulder and forced him to look at you. You always found it funny that you held such a threatening man like putty in your hands.

“No… say it, tell me please,” you rested your hands on either side of his face, letting him know it was okay, you gleamed up at him as the flashes of the television reflected in your eyes, his heart swelled at the sight of you. Toji broke his eye contact with you, anxious of how you’d respond to his question. Toji was anxious. And you could feel it. And then his jaw clenched before his grip on you tightened once again, even now he couldn’t let the fortress that he hid inside break. 

“Have you ever thought about… having another kid?” His eyes were dark, and a grin almost devious teased the corners of his mouth, and all of a sudden you felt how you did two years ago. And the Toji you fell for was standing there and he was so close to you and you were in his arms. He was teasing you like you were helpless teenagers in love. And though you loved Megumi so deeply- he was safe with the nanny at home… and you and Toji were just you and Toji again. You wanted him as fiercely as you did two years ago, and you wanted him to make love to you the way he did two years ago. Everything had been so gentle since you two were last here, and you watched Toji grow into an amazing father. You understood that he treated you like glass because he didn’t want to lose you like he has everyone else. And he was so good to you. But fuck, he was too good sometimes and you wanted that asshole back. 

You pushed yourself into his chest and nudged his face in your direction with your nose, smiling softly as you watched a storm brew in his eyes alone. Your breasts nearly spilled out of the neckline of your dress as you pressed your chest to his. You felt him tense as you licked your way up from his neck to his ear, placing a kiss on the sensitive skin behind it. 

“Toji… I think about it everyday,” you whispered, his grip around your waist tightened as he exhaled sharply, as if he was holding himself back. 

“Do you think about a boy or girl?” He teased, beginning to trace his fingers on your thighs just below the hem of your dress. Your body instinctually moved into his, your words caught in your throat and your eyes lost in his. Toji smirked down at you, watching the way you curled around his finger so easily.

“Hey,” he snapped, taking your chin in a firm hold, “What did I ask you, princess? Stay with me.” 

His other hand that remained just underneath your ass rose a few inches to give it a taught squeeze. He chuckled softly watching you twitch at the sensation. With your chin still in his hand he snapped your face to the left, pressing his nose against your cheek and inhaling deeply, before placing a hard, sloppy kiss to it.

“Tell me.” He pushed your face back so it was an inch away from his, “Do you want me to give you a boy or a girl?” 

The stench of lust stained the walls, the carpets, the bedsheets, your clothes… it stuck to everything. This fucking room made the two of you feral. Toji had you melting in his hands and you wanted him to mold you to fit perfectly to him. Your hands traced down to his chest, feeling the muscles that pulled underneath his fitted black shirt. You took handfuls of the fabric into your fists as you smashed your lips to his, and he reciprocated immediately, like he was a robot built to respond to your commands. His hands flew everywhere, feeling every inch of you. They traced your thighs, slipped under your dress and up your spine, they traced the curves of your breasts and trailed up your neck, before stopping at the back of your head, bringing your face impossibly closer to his. He wanted you to mix together like a forbidden cocktail, whiskey and vodka, dark and light, never to be put together but when they are, they can be deadly. 

You pushed from his unforgiving hold, to look up at him, the two of you breathing heavily, gasping for air like all that was left in the room was sucked out of it. You stumbled backwards as he watched you quizzically, wondering why the fuck you weren’t glued to him right now. You wanted him to see you, fully. So you stopped walking backwards until your legs hit the end of the bed. 

Slowly, your fingers toyed with the hem of your dress, your cheeks heating as Toji smirked and crossed his arms. He watched you with a tilted head and his tongue poking at his cheek, in disbelief that you were his. But his smile dropped when you took hold of your dress and inched it up your soft skin, revealing the lace panties you had been wearing. Then you pushed the silk fabric past your belly button, and Toji could only imagine how that stomach would look big and swollen with his child. You stopped there, and slowly dragged your hands around your stomach, before they rested on top of your womb, your eyes never leaving one another. 

“I don’t care about the gender of the baby… as long as it’s our baby and we take care of it together,” you whispered as you fixed your gaze on Toji’s chest, too nervous to look him in the eye. A primitive feeling ignited within him as he witnessed those words leave your mouth. Someone wanted him, not for dirty work, not to be used, but to love him and share a love with him, he never thought himself capable of feeling compassion for another like this in his life. He wanted to claim you in every sense of the word, fill you up, and burn his name onto your heart. 

“You wanna give me a baby?” He growled from across the room, his shadows reached you from six feet away and enveloped your body, the vibrato of his voice shooting straight to your core. The idea of Toji marking you permanently made your insides curl, wet at the thought of it. Your eyes filled with lust and need, begging him to take you right here. He lost all of his senses as he looked at you turning into a needy little thing for him, breasts supple and on display as they heaved up and down. He imagined how they'd swell and fill with milk for his child, his gaze shot up to your lips, wet as you bit and licked at them, stains of the dark lip liner you had put on before you left, remaining on your skin like a ghost. Then they shot to your eyes, nearly tearing up with need, need to be touched and his completely. Something in you shifted when his gaze softened and his stance relaxed. 

“Fuck… I wanna give you a baby Toji.” You whispered as you felt the first tear roll down your cheek, and within seconds Toji was up against you once more, lips molding to yours and his hands tangled in your hair. The weight and force of him pushed you back as you prepared to hit the bed. You took one of his hands from behind your head and placed it on your stomach, pausing from the kiss to look at him, saying all you needed to tell him with the one stare. 

The rubber band inside of him snapped in that moment, he was madly in love with you, and the way you cared for Megumi so tenderly drove him up a wall. Watching you rock him to sleep, cook him breakfast in the morning, dance carelessly around the living room with him in your arms- he wanted to do it all over again with you, and start at the very beginning this time. He nodded frantically and wordlessly as he laid you back on the bed, pulling the heels off your feet as he crawled over you until he’d pushed you to the head of the bed, eyes never leaving yours. His lips met your collar bone, sucking on the skin that peaked beneath the strap of your dress, you wrapped a hand in his hair and pushed him into your chest as you whimpered, desperate for more.

He pulled his lips from your skin, placing a chaste kiss on the fresh bruise he mouthed onto your chest before placing a strong hand on your stomach, the other bringing itself to your head to make you look at him.  

“Fuck, princess… tell me what you want again.” He whispered, pushing down on the soft skin of your stomach and tracing circles around your belly button with his thumb. Something about that movement turned you feral, as Toji hit all the right spots within you with his words. You crashed your lips into his as you growled into his throat, staking your claim on him. Toji was yours, and you wanted to make sure he knew it. 

“M’hm…” You hummed as you rotate your hips into his thighs, “I wanna have your baby,” Toji squeezed your thighs before he pushed the rest of your dress up above your head, nearly panting as he watching your breasts spill out. He took one nipple into his mouth and the other in his hand, your body arching at the sudden change of pace. He sucked and twirled his tongue around the sensitive bud, the other hard and taught between the rough pads of his fingers. You always loved the way Toji could handle you, he was the only man that was ever able to give you exactly what you needed. It had always been that way, just you and him, becoming experts in each other’s bodies, memorizing every curve and trigger that made one another sing. 

He lifted himself up from your breasts so that his face was hovering above yours and your head was trapped between his arms, he looked at you… and for a second you could’ve sworn you saw sadness wash over his face.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you and I'll do it, tonight you have me completely,” Toji whispered, tracing the contours of your face. You hid in his shadows, unsure what to make of that statement. Your breathing was ragged as you searched his face for the cause of the sudden gloom he casted over the bed you two occupied. You reached up to trace the dips of his jaw and cheekbones, back around his head before your fingers lingered over his lips. 

“Toji, what’s wrong?” You asked wearily, “Don’t I have you completely every other night we spend together?” His gaze saddened, and this time it definitely had. You grew incredibly nervous, because despite the fact that you had Toji for two years… deep, deep down, you knew that he was a force that couldn’t be tamed.  

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. He laid his body weight on top of you, caging you into him as if to protect you from an impending doom. 

“And because I can’t lose you…” Your breath hitched in your throat at his next set of words. You couldn’t let him finish. 

“Toji… no.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his back and hugging him into you. 

“I’m sorry, I have to.” He shook in your hold, his hand wrapping around the back of your head and pushing it into his neck as you began to sob. You struggled to escape his grasp, you needed to fucking breathe. 

“Toji… get the fuck off of me.” You bit through tears, but he wouldn’t budge. 

“Let fucking go of me!” You pushed, squirming away when you felt him loosen up. You tripped your way out of the bed and hid yourself in the corner of the room, between the big TV and the bathroom. You sheltered your naked body by crossing your arms over your chest and your sobs became uncontrollable. You burned holes into his back as he knelt on the bed with his hands unfolded in his lap, he stared at them, empty and without you in them. 

“I have to leave-“ He began. 

“Shut up.” You whispered, begging him to stop.

“It’s the only way you and Megumi will be safe.” He pushed. 

“I don’t fucking care-“

“You don’t care about my son?” He screamed into the void of the bedsheets, the palms of his hands digging at his weary eyes. The statement shook you, it clawed at the deepest parts of you and ripped them out. Left you gutted. 

“How f-fucking dare you…” You choked, his back was still turned to you. You looked around the room in frantic disbelief, fists punching at your head. “You can at least turn around… and fucking LOOK AT ME… While you tell me that I don’t care about MY SON!”

You were towering above him now, for once in the years you had known this man the power dynamic had shifted. What was different was that you’d experienced another kind of love, and that love left you with a reflex that would cut anyone that threatened it. Toji had been training you up for this moment, the one where he would finally say he was leaving again, and you’d have to be there for Megumi on your own. 

You shoved at his back and he didn’t budge, so you shoved again, and again he didn’t budge. 

“He’s my son too….” You seethed, “ And I will not let you sit there with your back turned to me…” You continued as you rounded the bed so you were facing him. “Just so you can fucking tell me that I don’t care about him!” 

He kneeled as still as a statue, the silence surrounding him almost sickening. And the more you stared at Toji, the more you wanted to laugh. You were not going to fall for his bullshit game again, because in the two years that you’ve loved him you’ve also learned him. 

“You’re a coward, Toji…” You shot to kill. “If you meant what you said you can look me in the eye and say it again.” 

Knowing he wouldn’t budge, you crawled onto the bed and kneeled beneath him, forcing yourself to look up into his eyes. They looked empty. 

“Go ahead and tell me that I don’t love my son, Toji,” you smirked, eyes wild and alight as they were when Toji first set eyes upon you years ago, when he knew he had to have you. You grabbed his chin and tilted it upwards as you crawled into his lap, straddling him so he had nowhere to go, nothing else to look at but you, nothing else to feel but you. You put your lips to his and growled, nothing but heat laced in your words. 

“Be a man… be a father… and tell me that I don’t love my fucking son.” A tear slipped down his cheek, and you could see mountains move in his eyes and you watched the walls of that fortress crack after two years. His hands fell to your hips, locking you in. 

“I can’t,” he whispered, “I can’t tell you that.” Sorrow held heavy in his gaze, as he tried to kiss you with your lips on his. You wouldn’t let him, pushing his face back into place. 

“Then tell me… why you would lie to me Toji,” you asked softly, your sadness, your embarrassment returning. “Why would you leave me again? Have I not been good enough-“

“No,” he cut you off, “No, never.” 

“Then what is it! Tell me why you’re leaving- again!”  You sobbed, your vision of him blurry now. Your hands wrapped around the back of his head as you pulled his body into your bare chest, feeling the wetness of his cheeks against your breasts. You dropped your head into the crook of his neck and sobbed, “What haven’t I done to make you see how much I love you?” 

“It’s not what you didn’t do,” he resolved, “It’s what you did do.” You shook as his fingers kissed up and down your spine. “You have done everything- I could’ve asked for. I am scared of the way I love you… and I am scared of the way you love me.” He tried to pull your face from his neck but you were the immovable statue this time. 

“Look at me,” He says sternly, forcing you from your hiding spot. He places a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I have never loved someone so much. I can’t stay away from you and I think that’ll be our downfall if I don’t leave now. My plan was never to stay, I was going to leave you with Megumi… but god, you’re like a fucking magnet. Of course I stumbled in after him and when I saw you sitting on that bed with him… my fate with you was set in stone, princess.” 

You were a blubbering baby, your hands holding his face as your thumbs rubbed his cheeks back and forth, like they were trying to memorize every scar and curve. You kissed his cheek as he continued, “It is everything you have made me… that’s the reason I have to leave. My work isn’t safe, once they know how soft I’ve become you will be the first people they target.” 

“Toji, I d-don’t care!” You blurted out, “I don’t care… I can take care of myself, I can take care of Megumi. Teach me then, huh? Teach me to f-fight o-o-or use a gun… please Toji… I need you here.” You weren’t even sure of what you were saying, you were just saying anything to keep him here longer. 

“You are all I have left-“ He pushed. 

“As you are to me!” You bit back. 

“Toji, you are all I have… please… please can we try?”

You practically begged, “What about our baby? Was that all just shit to get me to sleep with you one last time? Hm?” 

“No, of course not!” He shot back, words fiery and filled with passion. 

“So you were gonna what? Toji? Knock me up and leave?” You asked silently, holding your eye contact with him. “Because I really wanted- I really wanted to have that with you.” 

He bit back tears, swallowing deeply as you drilled into him. He just shook his head, if he wanted to keep you in his life he had to do this. He had to let you go. He gently pushed you off of him one last time, wincing when he felt you reach for him, your hand gracing his. 

“N-no Toji… no, please,” you begged, his heart tearing as he walked closer to the door, gathering his things slowly. He jolted when he felt your small body press into his back, hugging him from behind and shaking. It took everything in him to fight the urge to place his hand over yours. But feeling you slide to the floor behind him made him turn around to look at you. He had done it, he had broken you, and for the first time in his life he was disgusted that he had done that to someone. 

“Get up,” he choked. 

You refused. 

“Get. Up!” 

“No.”

“I’m not leaving you on the floor like this-“

“Then don’t fucking leave! You asshole!” You screamed at him wildly, smacking at his legs with weak jabs, the picture of a child throwing a tantrum. 

“If you ever loved me or Megumi you would stay!” You cried, “You would stay… and you would try for us…” 

“You can’t say that-“

“Yes I can because it’s true,” you shot your words at him like bullets leaving a gun, short and quick, one after the other. 

“When I agreed to take Megumi under my care… I said I would do it only if you stayed with me. I said I wasn’t going to let you run away. And if you think for a second that I didn’t mean it then you really are fucking dense Fushiguro.” 

Toji’s mouth quirked at the sound of you using his surname, you haven’t done that for a while. He set his sights on you for a reason all those years ago, he knew you were strong, he knew you were unwavering. He just never thought he’d meet someone as stubborn if not more stubborn than him. That’s why he knew you were the one he was going to leave Megumi with. And even now as he looked down at you he knew he made the right decision. You would chase him into the parking lot naked if he made a run for it and he knew that. No one was better for his family than you. His heart dropped when he felt your hand reach up to his, releasing him from his train of thought. You were beautiful. And he was sorry. And stupid for thinking that this wasn’t going to go over without a fight. He tightened his grip on your hand and knelt down to kiss it. Every knuckle. Every fingertip. And he knelt into your touch when you cradled his face.

You saw him make a swift movement from the corner of your eye, and you couldn’t move fast enough when you felt a piece of heavy metal weigh down your hand. In it Toji had placed a gun, you knew he always carried one but he’d keep it concealed around you. So you’d never actually seen it. To be holding it right now… you didn’t know what to do. You watched him as he moved to kneel behind you, his hand never leaving yours that held the revolver. 

You gasped as he brought an arm around your waist, fixing your posture so you were upright. And he adjusted your arms so the gun was pointing at the door of the motel room. His hands laid loosely over yours and his head rested in the crook of your neck. Your breathing grew heavy when he traced from your hand all the way back to your upper arm, fixing its position and propping it up at a 90 degree angle. 

“It’s like a dance, you see.” He whispered into your ear. 

“If you hold it properly, and give it room to move,” he loosened your grip on the trigger. 

“Not too tight, princess…” You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“It’ll hit all the right steps…” His finger covered yours on the trigger and you felt your heart stop, “and you’ll shoot ‘em dead.” 

“Bang!” Toji mimicked the sound of a gun as you jumped backwards into him and screamed, eyes squeezed shut. But you didn’t feel the reverb of the gun, you didn’t hear anything piercing the wooden door, only the vibration of Toji’s low chuckle in his throat. You turned around to see him propped up on both arms, staring at you in amusement while you stared at him in shock. 

Your hands shook as you examined the gun in your hands, before looking back up at his smiling face. His hands covered yours as he slowly took it out of your grip. 

“What the fuck, Toji?” You whispered, scared as if you’d actually shot something. 

“Safety’s on, sweetheart.” He teased, wrapping an arm around your neck and bringing you into him to place a wet kiss on your mouth. “I’ll let you do the real thing once you start getting good.” 

“What?” You stared at him in disbelief, but he didn’t miss that glimmer of excitement in your eyes. 

“I’ll teach you how to use a gun, I’ll teach you to fight, I’ll teach you whatever you want to know… so we can keep our kid safe.” He whispered, looking down at you with a warm smile on his face. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes…” He whispered, “…I love you.” He added. 

“I love you too,” you almost didn’t believe it. 

“I mean it… I love you.” He repeated, like he could read your mind. But you were still hurt, and angry, and everything bad you could feel you felt. 

“I- prove it to me… that you mean it… I’ve proved myself to you enough tonight Toji… and I won’t stand to be made a fool,” your words bit, and you hope he felt them draw blood. Toji pulled you back into his chest and buried his face in your hair, taking in your scent. 

“You want me to prove it?” He whispered. His hands start to trail up your thighs, his mouth begins to place kisses on your neck. You sighed at his touch, placing your hands over his on your body. 

“Mhm,” you whimpered, leaning into his chest, your body becoming overly sensitive to his movements again. Toji’s hands pushed at your thighs, “Open up for me, princess.” You did as you were told, sliding your feet slowly so they could meet his boots on the carpeted floor, putting your clothed heat on display for him. He continued to draw circles on your thighs, more forcefully now, inching your legs open wider. 

“T-Toji, please,” you choked out, growing impatient. 

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered in your ear, sliding his hand under the waistband of your panties, his cold fingers scorched by your hot skin, “Come on… tell me, pretty girl. Had no problem biting my head off a moment ago.” 

“Fuck you,” you seethed through gritted teeth, trying to amass any pleasure from rutting your hips upwards. 

“Suppose I deserved that,” he chuckled, you could feel his chest shaking against your back. You leaned back into him and swung either of your legs over his highs, opening yourself up wide and demanding he touch you. “Dirty girl, that’s how you got tangled up with me in the first place- were just too damn needy…” His hand slipped under the crotch of your panties and you jerked as he placed his palm flat against you. Toji hissed at the wetness that met his skin, grabbing a handful of the slinky lace into his fist and tearing the cheap fabric off your body, “I’ll have to get you new ones.” 

“Please, Toji, please,” you were practically whimpering, begging for him. Jolting as he slapped your waiting cunt once, catching you off guard as you hissed at him. You placed your hand around his forearm and guided it as he massaged the sting of his strike out. 

“Tell me-“ He began again, letting his fingers slide up and down your folds, collecting all of the wetness before bringing them up to your mouth. You looked up at him behind you and he simply raised a brow, silently suggesting that you knew what to do. You took his hand in yours and dipped your mouth down onto the two fingers he pulled from beneath you, licking and sucking your arousal off of them. 

“Good girl, now tell me…” He pulled his fingers from your mouth and shoved them back down to your weeping heat, this time pushing them in and curling them upwards, holding you in place as your body contracted. 

“T-oji my god!” You gasped at the sudden movement. He shushed you, pressing his lips to your ear as his fingers writhed inside of you, “Shhh… tell me about how you’ve dreamed about giving me another baby,” Toji insisted, a glimmer of that ego shining through as he continued his ministrations, more aggressively this time, beginning to pump two fingers in and out of your cunt. 

“Mph-fuck, Toji please-” His fingers continued, pushing in and out of you, kissing your ear when your head dropped back onto his shoulder.

“Tell me, pretty girl, and I’ll give you more,” he began to speed up, wrapping his spare arm around your torso to hold you flush against him, spreading his thighs further, ensuring that your legs spread with him. You moaned at the action, rutting your hips up into his hand as you gave him what he wanted. 

“I- I’ve dreamed about it since we first bought the house together…” He began to place chaste kisses on your neck, sucking on the supple skin, adding a third finger inside of you. “Fuck… that’s too much To-”

“I think you can take it, how could you have my kids if you can’t even take three of my fingers, princess?” He started to pump slowly, letting you adjust to the size. “Now, go on.”

Your breathing was disorderly, your hands grabbing onto his thighs as you felt yourself swallow the girth of his fingers whole. “Ah- okay… w-we bought the house a-and, I think…” You thought back to the first time you set foot in the house after it was officially yours, you were in love with the Victorian architecture and since you loved it Toji loved it even more. 

“I think watching you paint Megumi’s room that bright blue… seeing you covered in paint… making sure e-everything was perfect for him.” You hadn’t even noticed him speeding up, until he started circling your clit with his thumb and you could’ve sworn you were gonna explode. “Toji- please, I think I’m going to-” 

“Not yet… finish,” he urged and you protested before you felt him land another strike to your clit, “Now.” 

“Oh, my god!” Your eyes crossed when he resumed, your abdomen shaking at the sensation, “W-watching you made me realize t-that… t-that we were going to b-be okay-ah!” The arm around your torso made its way up to your breasts, pinching and twisting at your nipples. “...It made me realize t-that I want to be in this- w-with you…hmph… for a long t-time…” You looked up at him with pursed eyebrows and your mouth agape, finding him already staring at you. His face was warm, your entire being felt warm. And then he sped up, fingers pounding in and out of you, his mouth dropping back down to your neck to litter it with hickies, your legs grew stiff and you frantically jutted up into the palm of his hand. 

“Toji- fuck! Please, please-”

“Tell. Me.” He growled, not letting up on his movements.

“I-I- oh fuck… I realized that I wanted to be with you… f-forever, To-ji. I wanted to h-have more kids w-with you a-and raise a f-amily…” Your eyes held his and you felt your toes curl and your insides turn. His mouth connected with yours, holding your jaw in place, as he growled into your mouth.

“Cum.”

You saw stars as his grip on your jaw tightened, swallowing all of your moans, all of your cries, and drinking them like they were a forbidden elixir. He held your legs open with his, pumping in and out of you relentlessly as he held your shaking body. You felt his length, hard against the small of your back, and you lost it completely when you felt him needily rutting up into you through his black denim. “Fuck Toji! I’m cumming. I’m cumming- ah!” 

You two were a sweaty bundle of bodies, desperately rutting into each other, trying to be impossibly close to one another. You reached an arm around his neck and drew him into a wet kiss, hungrily biting and sucking on his lips, his tongue, any inch of him you could take in. 

“More. Toji, please, I need you more.” You begged when his fingers finally released you. You wanted each other in ways you never had before, this time was… different. This time you two were consummating your own version of a fucked-up marriage. In sickness and health. In life and death. You would have each other completely. You felt how needy he was, the scent of your arousal on his mouth, on his hands, lingering everywhere, it turned him into an animal. You turned to face him and helped him out of his clothes. Peeling the shirt off his sweaty body as he kicked his boots off, licking a stripe up his abdomen with heaving breaths, your eyes never leaving him as you panted for him, need dripping off your tongue. Once you got to his neck, you began to leave bite marks along his collarbone, his jaw, your bare cunt rutting into his crotch, growling at the cotton boxer-briefs that kept skin from skin. Toji’s hands grazed over your body, tracing every curve and valley, letting you devour him, take him, do what you wanted with him. 

“Take these off,” You breathed against his neck, fingers pulling at the waistband of the boxers, he chuckled, grabbing you by the back of the head and forcing your eyes to meet his, “As you wish, mama.” 

Sure, there were partners before Toji, and the sex was fine. But no one had ever made you act the way he made you act. You were a partnership of two antagonists, just prodding and poking at each other to see who could make the other crazier. You were sure that tonight, Toji would win. 

Mama.

You saw stars at the word and he knew it. Toji watched your eyes grow as dark as his in seconds, trailing his every movement as he lifted his hips up and slid his boxers down his legs. You watched his cock smack his stomach, so rock hard it looked like it hurt. You needed him in cynical, territorial ways. As did he to you. 

“If you don’t put a baby in me right now Fushiguro…” His eyes widened at the vulgarness of your demand. He watched you kneel just feet away from him, observed the way your chest was heaving up and down, the locket he gifted you, the one you never took off, moving with it. He noticed the way your breasts looked heavier, nipples puffier. He noticed your arousal dripping down your thigh, he had never seen you so wet. And lastly, he noticed the way your hands guarded your stomach, as if they were guarding your precious womb until he came around to mark it. 

“Get on your back,” he barked, climbing over to you swiftly, not giving you time to follow his directions on your own as he had you laid down against the carpet in seconds. He licked his lips as he watched you draw your bitten lips into your mouth, waiting for him to do something.

“Tonight I am going to fucking worship you,” he growled, smashing his lips to yours, jamming his tongue down your throat and licking you everywhere unholy. His lips trailed down your breasts, your stomach, and he stopped above your thighs, leaving bite marks all the way down. He blew a puff of air onto your sticky heat, before teasing you with a small lick. The second your thighs flew upwards his hands held them down, gripping onto the fat like they were lifesavers. He stuck his tongue in your folds, firmly tracing circles around your clit and following the patterns of your vulva. 

“Toji!” You screamed, almost as if you wanted him to stop. But that couldn’t be further from the truth, you needed him to keep going. One of your hands tangled in his hair as the other held onto his, your body writhing like a fish out of water as he continued to suck and pull at your core, groaning into you every time you rode your hips against his face. 

“I-I can’t, please I’m-” You gasped for air, desperately moving your body up and down with his mouth, riding out the waves of pleasure he was giving you. Your body was still sensitive from  your orgasm just moments ago, you felt like you could burst at any moment. But Toji didn’t stop, he kept blowing air onto your clit, fucking you with his tongue and biting the soft skin around your mound. He reached up to grab hold of one of your breasts, squeezing and pinching as he himself ground into the carpet he laid upon. Your moans and your taste were his jet fuel, and he was getting off to every second of it. You watched his ass flex as he repeated his movements, drawing circles into the carpet with his cock. The sight of him desperately humping nothing sent you over the edge, screaming as you pulled at his hair, your thighs closing around his head.

“TojiohmygodI’mcummingfuck!” Your words came out a sloppy mess, unable to do anything but praise him for being so good to you. He continued to place kisses on your inner thighs until you were done riding out your high, your body finally falling back to the floor. 

“Feel okay?” He asked calmly, rising to his knees as your body occasionally twitched in your post-orgasmic euphoria. He ran his hands up and down your torso, gently massaging once he got down to your pelvic bones, working out the knots and work you had just put in to getting off on his face. He knelt down to kiss you deeply, tenderly this time, inhaling your scent and running his hand over your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. His eyes searching for answers in yours, “I’m sorry,” he uttered, digging his forehead into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry I tried to run away, you don’t deserve that.”

“Toji… I- I love you.” He kissed your forehead, his hand hitching themselves underneath your thighs, watching your eyebrows furrow together while he inched your knees up slowly.

“This comfortable?” He asked you for reassurance again and you nodded, and he pushed a little further, until your knees nearly touched your shoulders, you winced a little at the stretch of it, inhaling and exhaling deeply as he waited for you to adjust. When you open your eyes he’s looking down at you, kissing the insides of your calves and massaging them. 

“It hurts a little?” He asks again gently and you nod. He chuckles quietly as he leans down to kiss you, you inhale sharply as he puts pressure on your legs, stretching your hamstrings even more than intended.

“If I’m gonna put a baby in you, this is the best way, princess.” 

His words ran straight to your core, and you nodded frantically, feeling like a teenager having sex for the first time. So eager to feel him. This time with Toji felt different, call it- fucking with intention. Both of you felt the thickness of the air, you knew how much this meant. He placed a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering against them, “Let me know if you need me to stop.” 

Your eyes nearly crossed at the suggestion of him fucking you so hard you’d need to call it in, you just wanted to feel him already, “Mhm… Toji, please.”

His head dropped to your chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck, gripping him tighter when you felt his tip prop itself at your entrance. He laid his body flat against yours, you screamed at the burning in your legs, folded back against you with the weight of his body, but you wanted more. His arms caged your head in on either side and that was when you felt it. Toji watched the way your face contorted, your mouth dropping and eyes squeezing shut as he filled you at an angle he never had.

“Fuuuck,” he exhaled, inching his length into you further and further. He felt you claw at his back, skin sticking under your fingernails as you groaned with him, two animals fucking to conceive. The most primitive state of the human, fucking to reproduce, to bear offspring, to grow a family. 

“Toji-”

“Yes, princess,” he cut you off, “Oh fuck,” he gasped, bottoming out inside you, before hoisting your waist up to his and slinging your legs over his shoulders.

“T-Toji I’m so full!” You whined, grabbing onto his thighs folded on the floor as he knelt before you, buried deep in your cunt. 

“I know, baby, I know… be good and let me put a baby in you, okay?” He asked, placing kisses to your calves once again. You panted, nodding up at him while he made his first move. You groaned as he pulled himself out, before splitting you back open and bottoming out once again, “Fuck Toji, I need-” 

You felt it snap inside you again, whatever it was that made you feral, foaming at the mouth for the feeling of him inside you. “Toji I need you to fuck me…” You ground your hips into his, grasping at anything to give you leverage on his length. He looked down at you wearily, always so delicate, so fragile, “I don’t know if I should-”

“Fuck, Toji! Stop treating me like I’m glass and fuck me!” His eyes grew dark at your words, but still a glint of remorse held him back. You smacked at his chest, then looked down to remember that he was balls deep inside you, he seemed to remember at the same time because his stare turned wicked, “Look at me, Toji... I need you to fuck me baby.” 

You felt him begin to pick up his pace, slowly but surely rutting into you, fucking you deeper and deeper with every thrust. “F-uck, Toji!” Your mouth dropped as you watched a string of spit leave his mouth and drip on to where his cock and your cunt met, you gasped for air when he reached down to spread it around, lubing you up and preparing to go deeper, “T-oji, TojiTojiTojiii, please baby.”

“Yes, pretty girl. Fuck yes.” He gritted through his teeth, groaning at the way your tits bounced with every thrust, he reached out and cupped one in his hand, “Fuck, your tits are gonna be so full in a few months…” Your eyes rolled back at the way he groped it, playing with your nipple. Then your eyes fell to where you two connected and his gaze followed, the two of you watching Toji reappear and disappear inside of you, your wetness covering his cock, and his arousal being shoveled deeper and deeper inside of you.

You squealed as he thrusted harder, laying on top of you and rutting down into your heat. “Go ahead and touch yourself for me,” Toji instructed, and so you did. And a familiar feeling began to bubble up in your stomach, and for the third time that night Toji would ruin you. 

“Toji, please oh fuck-” He brought a hand up to your sweaty forehead, blowing air on it to cool you down, he then took your hand and placed it on your stomach, smirking as your eyes widened at what you felt.

“Feel that? Feel me inside of you?” He whispered, kissing you swiftly, feeling himself come close. You were a mess of moans and whines and you couldn’t even begin to explain the things that Toji was making you feel.

“Y-yes… yesyesyesdaddyIfeelit!” You cried as you circled your clit faster and pulled him closer, “Fuck yes! Right there baby, fuck me right there!” 

Toji growled, his hands now clawing at your thighs, the picture of two animals fucking wildly. Something sent him tipping past sanity as he pushed your legs all the way back, your ass up in the air as he thrusted down into you.

“Call me that again…” He seethed, grinning cynically at the way your eyes glazed over, his hand wrapped itself around your throat, enough to let you breathe. The sensation was overbearing, you started writhing underneath him, squirming and twitching while he kept his pace.

“F-uck,” you choked out, cracking what smile you could with Toji’s hand restricting you, “I want you to fill me up, Daddy.” Toji saw red, and blue, and every color that you helped him see in the past two years, and he fucked them all back into you. He kissed you with tenacity, lips tangled with lips and limbs tangled with limbs.

“I’m close,” he seethed.

“Me too,” you whispered.

“Boy or girl, tell me and I’ll fill you,” he whispered against your lips, saliva, snot and sweat mixing as you two breathed heavily into each other's mouths. Toji’s neck turned red the longer he held in his orgasm, the veins of his arms popping as he held you tightly, maneuvering you so you were in the perfect position to receive him. 

“I told you I don’t care,” you whispered back, feeling yourself close to the brink, tears forming in your eyes, “I told you I d-don’t care as long as I raise them with you.”

He smiled, “Pick a wild card.”

You smiled back.

“Girl,” you whispered. With your arms holding him closely against you, Toji began to writhe, his abdomen jerking in and out as he tried to control the strength of his orgasm.

“Fuck!” He screamed, fucking his seed into you, filling you up with himself. You pulled his face to yours and kissed him tenderly while you felt yourself clench around his length, milking him and riding out another orgasm of your own. 

“Yes,Toji! Yesyesyes!” You wrapped your legs around his torso and held him there, feeling his body twitch as he continued to shoot loads of himself into you. Your body shook as you took everything he had to give you, placing your hands atop his as he held your legs back, the two of you watching him push every drop that fell out back in. 

To think that you and Toji would end up here, there was a time when he was nothing but a fuck buddy to you, and you to him, now you desired something so intimate, so binding to his being. You couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly in his arms, and with that he looked down at you, smiling. Toji admittedly never smiled a lot before he met you, but as he looked down at you, he couldn’t be happier to smile in your presence. 

“Do you think we… got it?” You asked him, out of breath.

He raised his eyebrows, “You would doubt my work?” You smacked his chest and pushed him off of you, attempting to stand up but finding yourself weak in the knees. Toji approached you from behind and lifted you up slowly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him.

“I think we should try the bed out next,” he whispered, “See if it’s still any good?” 

You looked up at him in disbelief, “You want to do that again?” 

“You don’t?” He smirked.

“Well I-” You thought for a second while you melted into his hold, “I don’t not want to do that again.” He emitted a dark sound, while kissing the top of your head, and leading you step by step over to the old mattress. 

“Remember the first time we had sex here? I think I tied you to the headboard,” he suggested casually. Your hands tensed around his before you spun yourself around to face him, wanting to smack him, grin and all. He pushed himself into you and grabbed handfuls of your ass, lifting you up into him and taking in the sight.

“For old times sake, princess,” he persisted. Your tongue pushed at the inside of your cheek as you considered the idea. You supposed mother’s had to have fun too.

“...Just this once, asshole.”

“God, I love it when you call me that.”

© 2023 mitsery - do not repost my work to any other platforms

[vinyldreamsfuckup]

Pose

Warnings: drinking, smoking, fluff, banter

You were always known to be quite fiery. Most of the guys would call you stubborn and feisty but also incredibly hot, kind, and endearing. you found yourself at a t-shirt shop making a custom t-shirt for your boyfriend all because of something he said, and it all kind of clicked. Maybe you were quite stubborn and you definitely followed through on your pranks.

So here’s how it started, you were out on the road with Guns N’ Roses. You and Axl had become quite close considering you were dating Slash. And you two LOVED pulling pranks on him. Lived for it actually. This one might just be the funniest one yet. It wasn’t one where someone could get hurt or something like a simple jump scare. This took time and effort. Slash and you had quite the dynamic, always teasing and poking fun at each other. So when Slash said you were “getting old” and would “have gray hair soon” you took it a step further. You and Axl had been making fun of Slash ALL WEEK. Practically convincing the poor 24 year old he had gray hair. Calling him Grandpa, telling him he’d need hair dye and a cane soon. You realized you might have taken it too far when you’d seen him checking his hair for gray hair.

So all of it leads to now, you two had come up with a truce. He wears a specially made t-shirt and you’d both stop with the old jokes. Even though they didn’t even make sense because you were only 22 and he was 24, but it was beside the point. So here you were, standing in the dumb t-shirt shop in Ohio just hoping you finished soon so you wouldn’t make everyone late. You were making him a “World’s Sexiest Grandpa” t-shirt with the dot above the ‘i’ being his iconic top hat. And when they held up the first for you to inspect it, you knew it was perfect.

You stepped onto the tour bus holding the shirt behind your back. Axl looked over at you with a huge smile. Slash was sitting on the couch drinking and bantering with Axl and Duff. When he saw Axl’s wide grin he turned to look at you.

“Hi baby, whatcha got there?” Slash asked raising an eyebrow.

“Oh nothing,” You bit back a smile and kept your hold on the t-shirt. Axl chuckled.

“You’re being really suspicious,” Slash said with a small laugh and he stood up. He set his cup down on the small table that was bolted to the floor, “What is it?”

“Okay, I have a present for you,” You said with a smile. Slash’s eyebrows furrowed and Axl laughed even harder.

"A present?" Slash raised an eyebrow. You nodded and giggled slightly, "Well what is this present?"

You gently pulled the shirt from behind your back and showed him the shirt. Axl and Duff started laughing loudly and Slash's jaw dropped.

"Oh my god. It's even better than I thought it would be," Axl laughed out. Duff was wiping tears from his eyes as he tried to breathe through the laughter.

"No fucking way," Slash laughed and stood up. He walked over to you and grabbed the shirt from your hands.

"Is that his fucking top hat?" Axl asked through his laughter. You nodded proudly as Slash immediately took off his shirt and pulled on the new one.

Duff's laughter bubbled out of him, filling the whole tour bus with the sound, "Oh my god! It's even better with it on."

"Wait! Wait! Oh my god!" You chuckled and ran to the back of the bus. Slash giggled and lit a cigarette. He leaned on the small dining table and crossed his arms.

"Yeah yeah. Laugh it up. I think this whole "grandpa" thing is growing on me," Slash chuckled out. Axl and Duff could barely breathe as they watched him. The shirt was a size too small and was tightly pressed against his chest. You walked back down the small hallway of the bus holding a Polaroid camera.

"No. No, I will not be taking pictures in this," Slash chuckled out as he straightened.

"Oh come on. Don't be a grumpy grandpa," You chuckled out. He rolled his eyes.

"Fine, one picture," Slash said seriously. You laughed.

"You'll be taking more than one," You said jokingly. You brought the camera up to your eye and prepared to take the picture, "Smile."

Slash rolled his eyes and posed for the picture. He put his hand on his hip and smiled goofily. You chuckled and took the picture. Axl and Duff laughed and went to grab the picture as it rolled out of the Polaroid.

It turned into a full of photoshoot with Slash goofily taking pictures in the shirt that was much too small for him. You were so in love with him. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. He pulled you close to his chest.

"Are you happy now?" Slash asked. You nodded.

"I am," You responded, Slash set his head on your shoulder.

"So no more grandpa or grandma talk?" Slash asked as he raised an eyebrow. You couldn't help but smile.

"No more grandpa or grandma talk. Even if you are the world's sexiest," You said with a teasing tone. He let out a breathy laugh.

"God I love you," Slash said with a smile.

"I love you too," You responded and bit back a smile.

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 1

Pairing: Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: reference to suicide, terrible humor

Brief Summary: You have been surviving, not thriving, on an island. Was this divine punishment for the things you had done in life? When you have all but accepted your fate to die alone in this shitty paradise, your ticket to freedom washes up on shore, but is it wise to accept the ride? The real question is: would it mean trouble for you or for THEM?

Happy birthday, Kil! Sorry I made you half-dead in this.

First Light

You had a routine. Somewhat reminiscent of your old life, you woke up at the asscrack of dawn. Where it used to be a wake-up-call, now it was the sun's earliest tendrils prodding you awake. After being here for so long, you became sensitive to the natural rhythm set by sun. At first light, you woke up, and after dusk, you were fast asleep. And between those two mandatory meetings in your schedule, you had quite a few tasks that you'd given yourself, mostly to stay sane. Was it helping? Probably not.

Again, much like your old life, every day starts with a perimeter check. Except in your current life, that meant beach-combing. For others, it was a fun little hobby, but for you, it was your line to the outside. Today should be especially fruitful since there was a big thunderstorm just off the coast. After the last one, you had almost enough materials to start building the next section of your boat. With that promise hanging in the air, you threw on Frankenstein's minidress, your affectionate name for what was essentially an oversize T-shirt crafted from animal skin and the tatters of your original clothing, and carefully slid down the knotted vine connecting your ramshackle treehouse with the jungle floor. The shirt was more to protect you from the sun's rays than to protect your modesty. Who was gonna see you anyway? A whale? 

In the gentle purple-blue light, you found the handle to your sled and started off towards the beach. "It's going to be a really good day, isn't it, Mini?" You looked over into thick underbrush. A breeze rustled the leaves. You laughed, tugging the thing along the dirt. "I thought so." It took some effort to pull the sled to the beach. It was a large animal's ribcage with some kind of fronds lining the outside, to make it slide easier. 

You didn't really have a set time that you adhered to for your first task of the day, but it generally took 2-3 hours (or so you thought, you didn't have a watch) to circumnavigate the island, depending on what there was to find. It was taking longer today, which you had anticipated. And it had indeed been fruitful: A few jars filled with something that looked edible, some wooden planks, some blue and white thing that looked like it could be a weird colander, some buttons, a few scraps of fabric, some rad goggles, and an entire human man.

Wait... a man?  You did a double-take. You initially thought it was part of a crumpled blue sail. Oh shit oh fuck. Your heartbeat escalated. You hadn't considered this scenario. You hadn't seen another human being in... well a long time. What if he's dead?... or worse what if he's alive?  Your thoughts flashed to the gun you had hidden away, one of the few things that washed ashore with you. You didn't even know if it would still fire. And I only have one bullet that I was saving in case.... in case. There was no point standing there to ponder the possibilities. You looked to the treeline, "Standby, Mini." There was no answer. 

Cautiously, you approached the man. Long blonde hair was splayed around him and his clothes, a blue shirt and jeans, were soaked. You inched your big toe towards him. Gently, you poked at him. Nothing. Your body was on edge as you crouched down to inspect him further, placing your fingers on his neck for a pulse and watching to see if his chest rose. You jerked back. Alive! What do I do? He wasn't quite cold but he wasn't as warm as he should be. "And he definitely had a rough night," you said to no one in particular, gingerly taking inventory of scattered wounds marring his tanned skin.

You pushed things around in your sled to make a space for at least his upper half. "Sorry, blondie." There was no way to get him in there easily. You hooked your arms under his and used your legs to pull him into the sled the best you could. It was probably good he was wearing jeans since you were about to drag him through the forest. But you were no idiot. You weren't taking him to your base of operations. First things first, you had to wash him up and fully inspect the damage. You sighed, looking towards the forest again, "I don't mean to be crude, Mini, but I don't know if I even remember what a dick looks like." 

_________________

Next

Don't worry, fellas (gender-neutral). Killer will be okay and Kid is lurking somewhere...

Getting back in the writing game with my first multi-chapter fic (Go big or go home amirite). This story has become my daily intrusive thoughts and I need to get them out. Essentially this is the story of my OC (Ex-Cap't Krait Shenron), but it is made to be enjoyed by all (I hope) and "Reader"-friendly. Some of the more specific details are kept in since it pertains to plot. No posting schedule but I will probably word vomit this entire thing out and then who knows? Maybe I will start taking requests again (sweating).

I will also be uploading to AO3 if you prefer: Here

[xxsksxxx]

Split Seconds

Summary:

Sometimes trouble finds Mulder—and sometimes Scully steps right into its path.

Fictober24

Fanfiction Fandom: The X-Files/ #xfiles Prompts: 4, 11 Rating: T Warnings: none Tags: angst

Notes:

This is part of my contribution to Fictober, a yearly event that celebrates writing and reading.

Since I’m not good at sticking to one prompt for each story, I’ve combined two separate ones in this story. They’re in bold if you want to seek them out specifically. You can find the list here: @fictober-event.

I once again felt like exploring the angstier side of things—this time it's more the physical aspect though. This little ficlet wouldn't exist if it wasn't for @baronessblixen who talked me off the ledge once again. 

If you want to leave likes, tags kudos or a comment—no matter if it’s an emoji or several long paragraphs, please feel free. I'd be eternally grateful!

AO3 | @today-in-fic | @xffictober24

Bells Mill Road, Maryland 12:32 pm 

Scully slowly raised her hands. The man standing in front of them held his gun firmly pointed at Mulder, his eyes darting around wildly. She felt her breathing increase and her palms begin to sweat. 

“Put your gun down,” Mulder said soothingly, turning his palms towards their opponent in a peace offering. “There's no need for shooting anyone.”

Scully watched a bead of sweat trickle down from the man’s hairline, over his temple, and down his face until it disappeared into the collar of his dirty blue shirt. She quickly appraised the man, trying to determine how much trouble they were in.

The knuckles of the man’s right hand had turned white from gripping the gun handle so tightly, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. This man was clearly nervous and agitated, Scully concluded, and she’d felt her heart rate speed up. 

Her hand reflexively closed into a fist. If Mulder so much as took a hasty breath, there was no way of telling what the armed man would do. 

Why do we always end up in unlikely situations like this, she wondered. It's not like their cases weren't unusual enough. No, even doing something as simple as stopping for gas had them involved in a stand-off with an armed robber. Sometimes she wondered if it was Mulder’s destiny to find trouble–and hers to get them out of it. 

With an internal shake of her head, she returned to their current situation, just in time to watch the man slowly inch to the left, his gun firmly trained on her partner. “Get out of my way, or you'll see who needs to be shot,” he hissed, baring his teeth in an angry snarl. 

Without taking his eyes off of them, he blindly grabbed the plastic bag filled with money and cigarettes, the gas station worker had put on the counter before crouching down behind it. Scully could just make out the top of the young man’s bright red hair above the counter. 

“No, we’re not doing that! I think I'm going to make sure that you don't get any funny ideas, hero man,” the robber spat before taking an unexpected step forward, hitting Mulder across the face with the barrel of the gun. 

Mulder’s head flew to the right, a spray of bright red blood splattering on the countertop. 

“No!” Scully shouted and grabbed Mulder’s arm, checking to see how badly he was injured. A deep cut across his lip had opened up, and Mulder was squeezing his whole fist against it, trying to stop the blood flow. His eyes were tightly closed against the pain, and Scully could feel her anger erupt inside of her like a volcano. 

She whirled around to the gunman, who was now busy cramming bottles of alcohol into the plastic bag with his left hand while keeping a watchful eye on them. 

When he noticed Scully whirling around, he raised his weapon towards her and winked. “I didn't hit your boyfriend too hard, don't worry. He’ll be fine if you behave like a good little girlfriend and keep him away from me.”

Scully could feel Mulder tense next to her and grasped his forearm to keep him still. 

The robber laughed and gave her a quick once-over. “Seems like you're feistier than I thought. Romeo here seems to follow your orders like a puppy. We could have some fun, you and me. I like it when they are wild.”

Scully didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction, and just returned his look dispassionately. 

“Ooooh. Must be my lucky day. You're really a wild one. How about I give your boyfriend a real reason to cry?” He shifted the gun’s muzzle slightly to the right and lowered it towards Mulder’s knees. 

Well, that worked out great. Scully tensed and a cold dread swept over her like an icy wave. She quickly stepped in front of Mulder and straight into the gunman’s line of fire. 

“Scully, no!” Mulder shouted. He tried to grab her arm and pull her back, but his hand only caught air. 

Scully was now standing a few feet in front of him, her arms raised slightly above her head, and her eyes were firmly locked on the man across from them. 

The robber cursed and quickly redirected his gun to her. “Get out of my way,” he growled through tightly clenched teeth. “I'm done playing with you two. Give me your money, and then I'm out of here!”

When Scully didn't move, he grabbed her raised arm forcefully and pulled her towards him. “I. Said. Give me your MONEY!” he screamed into her face. 

Scully winced as the man tightened his grip on her wrist. This situation was rapidly spiraling out of control. “All right, I'm going to reach into my coat and get my money, ok? There’s no need to get angry,” she tried to soothe him. Where are the police, she thought frantically. Surely the kid hiding behind the counter had pressed the emergency button while she and Mulder had been playing bait, right? 

She slowly reached inside her coat, but the man grabbing her other arm wasn't in the mood for slow. He pushed her hand away and pulled her coat open, frantically groping for her purse—and that's when he saw her gun attached to the back of her pants. With a surprised yelp, he quickly whipped her around and threw her on the floor, kneeling down on her back. “Why do you have a gun!? Who are you!? Are you police? Have you been following me?! You lying piece of shit!” 

Scully tried to breathe against the pain of the sharp knee pressing into her shoulder blade. Now they were really in trouble. She tried to raise her head, seeking Mulder. Just when she met his eyes, she saw his mouth open in the beginning of a scream, his eyes widened in terror.

I’m sorry, Mulder. I guess I found the trouble this time, was her last conscious thought, then the handle of the gun came down hard on the back of her head, and all she could see was darkness.

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Pressure Got My Head in Knots

🩸Previous Parts Here🩸

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: ABO dynamics (knots, slick, heat), alpha serial killer/hitman Dom, omega mob boss Kells, mentions of killing, allusions to past abuse, cursing, allusions to trafficking, awkward boys, stilted conversation, bad dreams, night terrors, mentions of Dom's pretty uncut monster cock, misunderstandings, embarrassment, insults, stiff sleeping positions, boys cuddling, emerging feels, passage of time (not long), too much metaphor (I won't apologize), secret masterbation, improper use of a t shirt (they're always cum goblins), hurt/comfort, accidental grinding, biting/marking, blood, nervous boys, enemies to lovers 💣 Rating: explicit

All ideas helped by @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤

The roof was almost becoming a comfort for Dom. It was his spot really. He could look out over the terrible city they lived in and ponder how many Alphas were just waiting for his knife. He hadn't killed anyone since before he met the omega but it steadied him to think about it. He'd been coming here since their afternoon together and occasionally sleeping on the balcony. He never meant to fall asleep but the night after they fucked he went to check on Colson and thought he heard him sound pained. He was whimpering and sounded scared and it made Dominic’s blood run cold. After a moment he realized the man was only having a bad dream but the sight of the strong mob boss curling a pillow against his chest like a teddy bear hurt the heart Dom didn't think he had. Since he couldn't comfort him and didn't even know how he'd desired at least to stay close. Watch over him. Most nights he stayed on the balcony but he would escape before the sun rose and sleep fitfully in his own bed.

He was having trouble making himself take that last step off the edge of the building after what Collette had told him earlier at the club. He hadn't expected to feel so torn up inside knowing his… lover? had been hurt so badly but he was filled with shite he didn't know how to deal with. He was scared if he saw the man again he'd accidentally show somehow that he knew. They matched in so many ways besides just being devils in the playground of LA’s underworld. He never expected that. His gaze rolled up to the blank black sky, devoid of stars and didn't that just match his soul. “Fuck.” He huffed, stomping out his cigarette before he took the leap. For once he didn't smile at the rush of air tickling him and when his feet touched down his stomach dropped.

The first thing he noticed wasn't the light still on in the bedroom and it wasn't the pacing omega shadow ghosting over him- it was the glass door that was normally locked tight. For once it was… open?

Colson was exhausted after his long fucking night. He swore the universe was screwing with him. First the shipment of omegas was stolen out from under him and then his mother had pulled him aside when they got home. She lived on another floor and when they were out together they always shared a car. Collette had waited until they were walking inside and she finally spoke up about that fucking psycho. She'd explained gently how terrible Dom looked, that she didn't think the boy was sleeping any better than him. She'd kept her voice loving when she suggested he just give him a chance, what could it hurt having a friend?

He knew her better than that and he knew she knew him. Col didn't make friends easily and whatever was between them wasn't that. Dom knew what he was. Dom had quite literally been inside him, something no one else had ever been allowed. Since they slept together he couldn't sleep right. Old memories came back with a vengeance. She knew all of that, she knew his history, hell she'd lived it too. She'd slipped in one simple thing that had made him think and he hated it. He hated how damn well it worked on him. Travis would have loved him. The thing that pissed him off most was that she was right. Fuck.

“Ello.” The word was simple but it made Colson jump and he reached for a gun he didn't have. He rolled his eyes and turned to face the other man, his heart racing in his chest.

Collette had been right, Dom looked like hell. His eyes were tired and dark, his wild hair almost limp. He looked like a kicked puppy and Kells knew he was behind the boot. Damnit. “Hey.” Well… that was helpful. They were like awkward teenagers at the prom and not two mostly full grown men who knew each other intimately.

Dom tried to look less intimidating by slipping his hands in his hoodie pocket. LA heat was rough but sometimes he needed something to hide in. He didn't step too far into the room, he wasn't sure he was welcome. He'd already done damage with his cock, he wouldn't make it worse. He couldn't stop his gaze from wandering though- Colson was just in jeans and nothing else. The man was gorgeous and he almost couldn't believe he knew exactly what he felt like from the inside. Oh fuck he had to stop thinking like that. Col arched a brow as if he could feel Dom’s thoughts and moved to sit on the foot of the bed. Something made him curse under his breath and reposition himself. “You still ‘urt?”

Kells scoffed and shook his head. He didn't think whatever had twinged in his belly was from the Alpha's monster dick and even if it was he'd never say so. He couldn't give him the satisfaction. “Just pulled a muscle in the gym I think. You good?”

Dom startled at the question. He wasn't sure how to answer that so he just hip checked the dresser and stared at the other man. “No. But you ain't nei’ver. Jus’ been sleeping off.” He tried to lighten the statement with a tease but it fell flat. The omega had to know he'd been sleeping on the balcony if he left it open. He just wasn't used to trying to be a person, Tom never expected it from him. Maybe he shouldn't try to fake it with Colson either. “So you got fucked tonight?”

Col’s eyes went wide and for a moment he thought to clutch his pearls. Where the fuck did this asshole get the audacity?

“The meeting! At ya club. Seemed like it didn't go right. I didn't mean- bloody ‘ell.” The Alpha went so pink and his voice so rushed. His accent thick enough to walk on. Something happened inside the omega, something he really wasn't used to. The embarrassment from the Alpha made him laugh.

Dom smirked as the other man laughed at him. It was such a nice sound he didn't even mind it was at his expense. He was just happy to help however he could. “Fink I would ‘ave noticed summat else. I jus’- Yeah, yeah. Make fun of the guy wiv the silly accent.”

“Dude, fuuuuck that was good. Thanks for that. Yeah uh… I got screwed over tonight. A shipment of omegas was coming in from the East Coast and someone jacked it.” Kells wiped his eyes and tried to stop his laughing, it kept setting off whatever was aching in his stomach. Fuck, his body was feeling strange since he went off the blockers. He wasn't looking forward to what else was in store. What if his heats were a regular thing now? Maybe it was smart to let the Alpha hang around. It wasn't like he'd trust anyone else to help. He didn't know if that meant he trusted the killer already though or not. It took him a moment to realize Dom had gone quiet and he looked up to see the Alpha look away. “I don't sell them. I save them. I figured mom told you? Why the fuck would you come back if you seriously thought I was selling people?” He was truly shocked. He could see the contempt fade from the other man's face and a look of relief shone in his darkened jade eyes. Dom killed Alphas for less. He came to put Col down because of it… Why would he still show up?

“You needed me.” The Alpha shrugged but something tight and messy in his chest relaxed. He could see the omega working through something mentally but he didn't push. He wanted to be welcome.

Colson ignored the way that statement made him feel, especially how easily Dom said it. Instead he moved to crawl up the bed and settle under the blankets, carefully working off his jeans once he was safely hidden from view. He tossed them at the Alpha who caught them and tried his hardest not to sniff. Kells saw it though, those tired eyes flashed red before he folded the pants and set them aside. “Just so you know, my adoptive dad started this. He bought omegas and gave them new lives. I took over for him.” He explained simply. He was too exhausted to get into too much detail and it felt strange to talk because it didn't feel strange to talk to Dom. He was feeling too much to simply talk, especially after what he just realized. The killer ignored his deepest beliefs because he needed him. How was he supposed to handle that?

The Alpha wondered if he should leave but Colson patted the bed next to him. “Shut the fucking door and come to bed. Aren't you tired?”

After a moment Dom nodded and did as he was told before he walked around the bed. He tried to keep his mind from wandering to the night they met or how pretty the other would look spread out under him. His bite scar twinged as he took a seat on top of the covers and he rested back against the headboard. He kept to himself, his ankles crossed and his hands in his pockets. He didn't trust himself to do anything else. “Fanks.” He sighed, letting his eyes close as he leaned his head back but he could feel the other man staring at him.

“You're a fucking weirdo. I hope you know that.” Colson huffed with a playful edge to his voice. He didn't mean to scoot closer but he did by just a few inches as he tried to find comfort on his side. One thing he liked about being off his blockers hit him as he took a breath and closed his eyes.

The creepy psycho Alpha smelled like home.

🖤🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🖤

When Colson woke up the next morning he was surprised to realize how well he slept and even more so because at some point he'd inched over the rest of the space between them to cuddle against Dom’s side even though the Alpha never moved a bit. He pried himself away as carefully as possible to let the man sleep and promptly removed himself from the situation pushing the thought out of his mind. He couldn't process everything happening so instead he thought he'd work out. He could keep his days normal and decide what to do with the other man at night.

🌛

Dom appeared again once the sun went down, though of course he'd been watching most of the day. He was excited to jump to the balcony and even found himself smiling when he saw the door open. He wasn't used to being welcomed. Expected. Potentially even… wanted? They still didn't really talk but that night when Kells gave him a look he pulled his hoodie off and slipped free of his shoes. Waiting on the bed was an extra blanket and as he got comfortable he tugged it over himself. He still made sure to keep separate but he let himself lay down that night.

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Yet again Colson found himself glued to the Alpha when the sun rose, his arm over the other man's chest. He huffed softly at himself but lingered a moment, taking a second to explore and memorize his bedmate’s face. Without the stress of their waking lives etched into Dom's features he appeared every bit his young age. The omega was tempted to kiss his plush lips but he forced himself to disengage, he had shit to do and he still didn't want to get attached. They were just… helping each other sleep. That was it.

🌛

As Dom closed and locked the glass door behind him that night he was surprised to see Colson watching him and holding the other side of the blankets up. The extra he'd been granted the night before was gone and the omega was smiling like he'd pulled the perfect prank. “I don't like jeans in bed. Don't be an asshole.” The mob boss grumbled and Dom had to obey. Even though he'd fucked the man it still felt weirdly intimate to undress to his boxer briefs and t shirt in front of him. Col smiled as the Alpha slipped in bed and for the first time they laid under the same sheet and faced each other. They fell asleep talking lightly about what had happened that day even though Dom already knew it all. To the Alpha it was starting to feel like home.

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Kells sighed as he woke up, pressing his face into the Alpha's messy hair. They were tangled together and he wasn't surprised that even though Dom was asleep, part of his monster was very very awake. He let himself smile, his belly full of butterflies at the feeling of the psycho hard against him. Dom wasn't the only one but… he couldn't bring himself to do anything. Sleeping together was one thing but sleeping together when it wasn't a life or death situation? Fuck that. A part of his mind whispered ‘soon’ as he pulled himself free and escaped to the bathroom to take care of himself. He thought he might leave the mess on something for Dom to find but he'd be at the gym before the Alpha woke.

🌛

Dom was flipping Colson off as he joined him that night, he still couldn't believe what the bastard did. “Tha’ were me favorite shirt. Twat.” He huffed, getting undressed down to his boxer briefs. He jokingly hid his tee under the pillow instead of leaving it on. The omega had used the shirt on his body as a cum rag while he was sleeping and he wouldn't give him that chance again. If Kells needed relief he could use his bare skin. He didn't push it more than that though, they just laughed together as they got comfortable in bed, facing each other again. That night Dom liked the sound of his lover's laugh so much he found himself telling embarrassing stories. As they started to dirft they inched closer until their fingers touched.

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Colson slept a little fitfully that night so when he woke he wasn't surprised to find the Alpha spooning him and holding him tight. The strong arm he scarred was wrapped over him, that beautiful death dealing hand rest light on his abs. He let himself linger, a little mentally messy from bad dreams and worse memories. He tried to shift and felt a little worse for wear and slightly sick. He hated how much his trauma could still affect him after so long. He was pissed his memory could make him feel so sick so he stayed a little longer in bed and let the snoozing Alpha comfort him. It wasn't like the psycho would know. He'd still leave before Dom woke and ignore his thoughts for the rest of the day.

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It kept on that way for another week. Another. Each night Dom would wander into Col’s bedroom and strip down to almost nothing. They'd settle close but not too in bed and talk. Or not. What they did didn't matter, just that they could help each other sleep.

🖤🖤

It was almost a month of their new routine when something different happened one night. Everything had gone well- Dom showed up, slipped mostly nude in bed, they shared a few laughs or complaints, and drifted off to sleep. Normally the Alpha stayed awake longer to make sure the other was doing well. He had learned to judge how bad Col’s dreams would be by how much he whimpered or whined but that night he was quiet and Dom misjudged what that meant. Shortly after he drifted himself he was woken up by a blood curdling scream. He was jarred awake and instantly on alert, blinking his tired eyes fast. His sight cleared quickly to find Kells fighting himself, full body trembling as he scratched bloody marks in his inked skin.

The Alpha was scared which was an emotion he wasn't used to but he tried to move to help. He gently reached out to stop the assault but one touch was enough to wake the man. For a moment they stared wide eyed at each other before one tear escaped down Col’s cheek. “Colson-” Dom whispered softly, his voice thick with emotion he couldn't share.

“D-Dom?” The omega's voice was small and that one word broke the dam. The normally collected man felt a sob break free and without a second thought he was throwing himself at his lover's chest and crying against his neck.

Dominic wasn't used to comforting anyone but he wrapped his omega tight in his hold and pet his fingers slowly down his back. It was what Tom did for him when he felt shattered and it was all he had to offer besides a softly whispered- “I'm so sorry.”

“Why did he- why did they- why wasn't I good enough?” The Alpha couldn't make out much but he put a few things together from choked words and context clues. Besides that, he'd asked those questions a lot as a boy. He'd grown out of begging the universe for answers about the time he ripped his father open.

“You was. ‘Ush tha’. You was. No one else was for you. I ain't. No one is.” Dom was surprised at the words on his lips but he meant every one of them. It hurt his black heart to hear the strong man sound so young and broken and yet again he vowed to end the people who caused all that pain.

“Fuck you.” Colson whimpered, biting a kiss into his lover's neck. It surprised a moan out of the Alpha which somehow made Kells do it again. “Fuck you.” Curse. Kiss. Bite. A drop of blood hit his tongue. Dom groaned and their bodies moved until they slot perfectly together- cloth covered cock to cloth covered cock.

“Wha'?” Dom didn't know what to do. He could feel his dick filling hard and fast. His shaking hands wandered the sweat slick planes of Col’s inked back and he kept his head tilted. He wouldn't take any liberties but if the omega needed him he would do anything to help. He had his own needs though and they were rushing to the surface, probably making his eyes shine crimson bright.

“Shut the fuck up. Not good enough? Fuck you. Look at you.” Colson didn't know what he was doing. He just knew the more he touched and tasted the younger man the more his hellish dream was erased. At least for the time being. His tongue traced the Alpha's thundering pulse until he sucked a mark on his jaw. His hips rolled as their hands explored and his darkness ebbed slowly.

“Look- look at- fuck Cols?” Dom whined his name like a beg and the omega nodded as they thrust harder. Before he knew it their lips were meeting in a blood flavored kiss.

The Alpha could barely breathe, everything was too hot and so much. His cock was so hard it was poking out the top of his underwear and grinding against Col’s doing the same. They groped each other and pulled the other tighter, their panted breath mingling between rough kisses. Besides their soft moans and needy whimpers the sound of their precum wet bellies sticking together was near deafening.

Neither knew who hit their peak first, it seemed they were sucked under together. One cried out and the other answered and they both spilled a hot rush against their skin. At some point Dom's thigh had fit between Col’s own and the Alpha felt his leg drenched in slick. He didn't say anything but he savored the scent and feel as they rocked through their pleasure with shaking limbs.

Eventually their breathing calmed and their bodies stilled but they didn't pull apart. They weren't even sure they could if they tried. Kells couldn't bring himself to speak so instead he tucked himself under his lover's chin. He couldn't work out what had just happened and he was scared if he tried he'd break the tentative peace. Dom was just as confused but pleasantly pleased, his veins buzzing with pleasure. He just held the other close and pet his back as they drifted, eventually falling asleep again.

At one point Colson thought he heard the Alpha whisper something that felt both true and terrifying. It settled his soul but raced his heart in his chest. “You're safe. ‘Ome.” He tried to ignore it and sleep but he found himself waiting for the sun to rise so he could escape the safety of Dom's arms before he did something stupid like get used to it. Deep down he knew it was too fucking late. He already was. Home.

Author's Note/Tags: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @fenoy7 @cole-way-iero28 if anyone wants tagged let me know 🖤

It's not exactly a birthday fic but at least Kells got some special attention. I know it's a lot of deep feels and it may get worse before it gets better but you know I'm all about the silly happy dumb boys 😂 I hope you enjoyed it! 🩸🖤

[sugolara]

Bait

ft. K.B x S.T x I.M x fem! reader

Synopsis: After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, every country is forced to close down it's borders and airports to prevent anyone from coming in and out. Though, it's to late for some people. The dead has rose and is looking for revenge. Cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, angst, lots and lots of blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn

previous || series m.list || next

“Flagged this aisle.” Denki said and ripped the tape with Izuku’s knife. He then handed it back to the male as they both stayed behind. They left the entertainment section and now stood in the clothing section. Before they started, they decided to leave a flashlight in each department. If one fell over or if one casted a shadow they would take cover and proceed quietly to that designated spot. Izuku had thought of the idea.

“This looks cool, right?” Denki held up a t-shirt with a band. It was in good condition, a bit dusty, but a quick wash would get rid of it. The others waited for Shoto to finish changing out of his bloody clothes as he felt he might actually crawl out of his skin if the blood continued to touch him. It had the girl mentally smirking as he still had his wealthy behavior.

“Isn’t that Kyoka’s favorite band?” Eijiro asked, his expression softening as Denki’s face fell and placed the shirt back on the table, before following the others, leaving the red-head and Izuku behind.

“What happened to her?” Izuku asked, a little afraid to hear the worst news.

Eijiro grabbed the shirt, giving it a look before placing it in his bag, “She was out scavenging before we had left and it's been two months since she hasn’t come back. Usually, we all return in a few weeks to let everyone know we’re still okay since our radio doesn’t reach that far and since she hadn’t returned, he didn’t want to leave without a sign of her still…alive.”

Hearing the red-head let out a soft sigh, they both followed behind the others. His diopside eyes glanced over at his friend, “What was her role?”

“She, Tenya, and Mashirao went out to look for weapons. It was a risky job considering everyone else is looking for guns to protect themselves. Denki didn’t want her to go, saying he’ll miss her making fun of him and miss hanging out with her, but she refused to stay.” His eyes looked down, “But after the first month had passed and they hadn’t come back, everyone in the community assumed the worst. Last we heard was Mashirao’s voice breaking up with static.”

It was very sad to think that the classmates they loved and had spent many fun memories with had passed on. They could only wish that their deaths weren’t painful and that their last second before their eyes closed, they had thought about those they dearly loved. After a while of walking, they made it to the produce section.

“You think these still work?” Shoto opened the freezer and grabbed a box of frozen vegetables. He checked the label for the expiration date, but it was barely visible due to box melting and causing it to get sloppy.

“Maybe?” F/n said while looking at the box, “It has been frozen, so maybe that stops its process.”

“Months ago.” Katsuki said while rolling his eyes at them, “Have you guys ever eaten frozen food or what? If it’s no longer frozen then it gets bad. You can freeze it all you want, but it’s still bad, idiots.”

“What did you eat if you didn’t want to cook?” Denki asked, grabbing a tub of ice cream and opening it. It was watery and smelled awful, “I know Shoto said he had maids or something, but what about you F/n?”

“Sleep.” She shrugged, continuing to walk as the three behind stared at her, though they soon followed after. Izuku and Eijiro quickly caught up as they noticed they were lagging behind. When they turned, their lights around their heads aimed at a dozen rotters lying on the ground. It was difficult to tell whether they were dead since they were covered in blood. The light had seemed to startle them as they all looked their way and began to get up, moving towards them.

“God damnit.” Katsuki glared at the dead growling.

“It was bound to happen at some point.” Shoto said and grabbed his knife from his back pocket.

With a dozen rotters coming their way and being in a small aisle, they would most certainly get caught as they barely had enough space to move around. It was then when Izuku looked at Eijiro and Denki, their guns hanging by their side. He quickly moved his feet and began pulling boxes of drinks, stacking them together, “Eijiro, come help me!”

While the others continued to watch the dead, waiting for them to at least split up and give a little room to stab them, Eijiro and Izuku hurriedly stacked boxes. It didn’t have to be perfect, it just needed to be stable enough and allow Denki and Eijiro to get up onto the big racks that stored extra drinks.

Moans were then heard on the other side, behind the group. F/n turned only to be met with another few dead, “Shit!”

Katsuki also noticed, “Whatever you have planned, hurry it up, Deku!”

“Okay! Denki, come!” Izuku pointed at their guns then to the rack, “Your guns reach the one we can’t get. You two will get up, be our back up, get rid of the ones that are behind while we try to get the ones that are near us.”

“Got it!” Eijiro said and then got on the boxes, pulling himself up to the racks where he then helped Denki.

Those on the floor had pulled out their own weapons and let the rotters get near them. They tried to separate the dead, but there were so many that even F/n had trouble with them. It would be different with a gun and they couldn’t exactly use the one’s they had stolen from back then since they didn’t want to accidentally shoot each other, so having Eijiro and Denki on higher ground was excellent and she was glad that two males were doing their part with no whining.

But how long would their bullets last? The sounds of the gunshots would only draw out more which they did not like. Sure, the warehouse doors were closed, but there might be some in the aisles they haven’t cleared out yet.

She had tripped as she stabbed one, her body getting tired as she swung her arm. One of the dead had grabbed her foot, its decapitated body and jaw missing ready to munch on her clothed calf. She had little energy as she tried to get up and although she could feel its cold, wet and wrinkled skin, she had no fear in her.

Perhaps this was meant to b-

“You trying to get yourself killed!?” Katsuki stepped on its head, turning it into mush. He then yanked her up, “The hells the matter with you.”

A short growl was heard behind the two before a gunshot rang through the air. The dead's blood splattered on Katsuki’s cheek, he in return glared at his friend that stood on the rack. Eijiro let out a relief as the dead almost bit the blonde's shoulder, “Sorry.”

His knife was dull and its rust began to show. It was tricky to get the dagger out of the rotters head as Shoto had to move it side by side in order for it to loosen. He could hear it squelching as he did so, the noise making him cringe. Though as he pulled the knife out, the blade had broken, snapping in two pieces. He let out a pant, his eyes widening as he stared at the handle in his hand as the blade let out a clunking noise as it fell to the ground.

He glared at it as he threw the handle away and then to the rotters that moaned as they got closer. In order to use his gun, he’d have to pull it out from the duffel bag and that sure would take time which he did not have, however, Denki quickly caught on as he yelled at Shoto and upon catching his eye he threw his gun at him. He ignored the questionable glare the scar male gave him as the younger blonde had thought of something better.

He moved towards the boxes of sodas that were attached to a wooden palate. It was right at the edge of the rack and since the sodas were wrapped in plastic if one fell, the others would follow. The noise was a problem, but he was taking out a couple at a time, sparring Shoto with whatever bullets were still left in his rifle.

Shoto, having paid no mind to Denki, continued firing. While they dropped like flies that didn’t stop them from coming, though he did notice some had gotten distracted and went backwards.

“C’mon!” Denki grunted out as he tried to shove the sodas onto the dead. He had put his whole weight on it as it was heavy and just barely could he feel it move inches. As soon as it had put its weight onto the edge he could feel it tipping. He then slammed himself and let out a grin as the sodas fell on top of the dead. A big crash was heard and sodas exploded, wetting everything around it. The noise had the group startled as they turned to see what was the cause of it.

“Thanks.” Shoto said to his friend, almost astounded at how quick Denki thought. Turns out he would have been fine without needing people in his life. It was only then that he had noticed Izuku wasn’t around. He glanced around him, his thoughts began to pour as he feared the worst, “Where’s Izuku?!”

F/n finished the last dead as she too looked around. From the corner of her eyes she saw a dash of green and looking towards it she noticed Izuku inside the freezer where they had previously gotten the frozen vegetables. She could slightly see him as he waved at something ahead of him. Squinting, she also looked at whatever he was looking at before her eyes widened as she saw him motioning to at least a dozen rotters, so they followed him. They crashed into each other, trying to reach the freckled male.

“Izuku!” She quickly ran towards the freezer. With the entrance having rotters flooding in, there was no way out for him unless he chose to dive underneath the frozen food rack. At the frantic of her voice, one that was unusual to his hear, Katsuki glanced their way, before running after her, “Are you fucking insane, Deku!?”

Before they could open the door, Izuku shook his head at them. He had a plan to trap them in here and he didn’t want the dead to lose their focus. Yes, it was a risky plan, but this was better as they could kill them by sticking their knives through the cracks of the rack.

“Shouldn’t we help him?” Eijiro asked as he got off the rack, his tone was placed with worry.

“He doesn’t have a weapon or does he?” Denki listened to the muffle groans. It sent shivers down his spine, knowing that they must be hungry. But do the rotters even get hungry?

“A knife.” Shoto then went to the end of the freezer where he then opened a door, the others soon following and then helping him. He quietly spoke and carefully moved unfrozen products off the racks, so that the rotters didn't get distracted and Izuku could continue to do his thing, “Hurry and help me before he reaches here.”

Eijiro grabbed the boxes that Shoto gave to him. He threw it behind him while the others waited if they needed to take action. They did also keep an eye out in case a rotter tried to sneak on them and no doubt Izuku was terrified. The closer the dead inched towards him, he saw himself on death's door. He was stupid for coming up with this plan. He just wanted to try to be useful even if he dies, but damn, he was really, really fucking scared. It's not like those times where he had gotten close to them and killed them. He was trapped, with only an end he wasn’t even sure would get him out.

“C’mon, get closer.” Izuku whispered to them as he continued to wave his hand. He would stop to let them catch up and to not lose interest, but with blood coursing through a body and was practically giving himself to the rotters, of course they wouldn’t get distracted. He looked behind to see that his friends were giving him a way out. Once he almost reached the end he quickly ran towards the small space, trying to fit his body through. He underestimated how slow the rotters were as they quickly caught up.

“Get your ass out of there!” Katsuki harshly pulled on him.

“Om my god, oh my god, oh my god–” Denki bit his nails as he watched the rotters right behind Izuku.

“Shut it, Denki!” The group said as they anxiously tried to help their friend.

When he felt a hand grab his ankle, Izuku shivered. He didn’t have time to think of negative thoughts as he was then dragged out and the slam of the freezer closing behind him. He was on hands and knees letting out shaky breaths with sweat rolling down to the cement floor and eyes wide as he couldn’t believe he had just escaped. He stayed still before properly sitting and looked down at his feet, noticing his right shoe was missing.

“You damn moron!” Katsuki smacked Izuku’s head, “You have any idea how bad your shitty idea could’ve been!?”

“The hells the matter with you.” F/n crossed her arms, glaring at him. She would be lying if she didn't feel her heart race in both ways, “You could’ve told us! We would have thought of a better idea instead of you playing bait.”

Izuku embarrassingly scratched his head, “I had to think fast. There was no way we could’ve all taken them down.”

“How did you even manage to get into the freezer?” Denki asked as he looked ahead to where he had previously dropped the crate of sodas.

“Eijiro and Shoto left an opening for me.” Izuku got up to his feet, “They didn’t realize they had.”

The three looked at the red head and the dual-haired male. They too embarrassingly looked away, muttering a small apology.

“Still.” F/n placed her eyes on Izuku, examining him as he continued to sit, “With so many bodies you could’ve died. We didn’t even see you.”

“Yeah, sor–” Katsuki let out a scoff, eyes glaring down at his childhood friend with arms crossed, a hint of concern in his voice, “Never do that again, Deku. Don’t forget you only have one life. Quit playing with it like you'll be given a second chance.”

The freckle male looked away, lips twitching, feeling rather disappointed in himself, “I got, alright? Sorry.”

“Izuku knows his rights and wrongs.” Shaking his head, Shoto grabbed his pistol from the duffel bag as his knife had given up on him, “We should keep going.”

“Agreed.” Eijiro nodded, adjusting his gun.

Giving one final look to Izuku, he waited until the freckle male stood in front of him, shoving him forward so he wasn’t behind him. It was a death scare to see him locked inside a freezer. He didn’t have to think he’d need to keep an eye on Izuku as well. Leaving the muffled groans and moans from the rotters locked in the fridge behind they continued. Hopefully, the glass door wouldn’t crack as they pushed into each other. 

[eridanidreams]

Writing Prompt - Part the Third

for @silurisanguine

prompt - Waking up in each other's arms - Sloane

This is the second of the two scenes that demanded to be written with this prompt!

(set just post-Mankind Divided)

Awareness trickled into her thoughts, muzzy and thick; for once, Sloane didn’t try to force it. Fatigue had sunk so deeply into her very bones that letting herself slip back into sleep was a real temptation. Besides, it was a comfortable bed. She hadn’t realized it was heated, but the gentle warmth helped to soothe her battered body—she ached in every place that was still meat and a few that weren’t. It also seemed like she’d managed to get herself wrapped around a pillow again, but for some reason the thought wasn’t as irritating as usual. It was a little odd, though, how it was firmer, more angular, than most pillows—how it rose and fell in the steady rhythm of breathing, slow and relaxed.

It wasn’t a pillow.

Other sensations seeped in: a weight around her back, curving to rest in the hollow between her ribs and hip. A second, heavier band, pressing her thighs into the mattress. The scent of gun oil and leather, smoke and amber-musk—even if she hadn’t already known who it had to be, that fragrance alone would have identified him.

Adam.

Fatigue and pain blurred her memories of the previous night, but he’d been there, hadn’t he? Had blocked Sarif’s interference, had escorted her back to her suite. They’d argued—well, some things never changed—but why was she now waking up in what was a clearly mutual embrace? A stab of pain right below her diaphragm brought that memory front and center—two hundred milliamps was pushing the edge of non-lethal if it was only a second or two, but she’d taken five? ten? Long enough to burn down into the fascia; long enough to knock all but the best-protected of her systems out… The last piece of memory slotted in: she’d needed a field reset, leaving her utterly helpless for the several minutes necessary to safely bring each system back up.

Even knowing how unlikely any threat to her was, the paranoid little part of Sloane’s brain (that, to be fair, had more than once kept her alive) screamed bloody murder at the thought of letting herself be so… vulnerable. Adam’s presence had allowed her to quiet that little voice enough to actually do it. The last thing she remembered? His arms, secure around her while her systems shut down, taking her consciousness with them.

Had he stayed with her all night? It certainly seemed so—she cracked her eyes open onto an expanse of variegated grey. That was the old, faded t-shirt he’d pulled from his go-bag after showering. She turned her head a little, trying to get a better view; his free hand came up to cup the back of her head, thumb stroking firmly over the tension point at her temple. His voice rumbled, her ear against his chest making it resonate more than usual. “You awake, princess? Was beginning to wonder if you were going to sleep all day.”

“Think so,” she rasped through a dry throat. Swallowing didn’t help. “What time is it?” Belatedly, she realized she could have checked her HUD, but she wasn’t ready to have the world crash in on her just yet.

“Little after two. You’ve been out for about eight hours.” His arm tightened around her, pulling her more securely against him. “I’d have worried, but I managed to rouse you just enough to make sure you were okay after the reboot.” His chest rose and fell in a sigh. “As exhausted as you were, the pain must’ve been the only thing keeping you awake.”

He wasn’t wrong. “You, uh, didn’t have to…” She wasn’t sure how to finish that. …hold me? …stay with me? …be here for me?

“I know,” he replied smoothly. “I needed sleep, too.” He hesitated for a breath, then added, “And I didn’t want you to be alone, in case you woke up disoriented.” She could hear the truth in his voice, but there was something that made her think he wasn’t saying everything.

“That’s not all, is it?” she muttered.

She felt his chest heave in another sigh. “I almost—you almost died. I don’t know how you twigged to something going down, but if you hadn’t… or if those gold-masked bastards had…” Another shaky breath; he continued, words halting, “The backup detonator would have gone off. You would have been crushed in the building collapse.”

Sloane frowned, confused by Adam’s sudden change of topic. “But it didn’t,” she countered. “And I wasn’t. So there’s nothing to worry about.”

“You could have died, sweetheart.” He shook his head. “And I never would have known what happened. Never gotten the chance to tell you…” He trailed off uncertainly.

She let out a sigh of her own. “That I was a reckless idiot, sticking my nose in a dangerous situation that I had no business interfering with?”

Adam let out a humorless laugh. “No. No, they were expecting us.” He smoothed his hand over her hair. “They weren’t expecting you. No, you did real good.”

“Well, then,” she couldn’t quite keep the exasperation out of her voice, “I can’t imagine what else you’d need to tell me.”

His embrace tightened a fraction of a second before his words hit her ears. “That I love you.”

[redfurrycat]

🤠💘🐓Valentine's Day Fic Recs🐓💘🤠

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: Abliafina, Chocabel, Cristinuke, Crowstakeflight, Dumbpilots, Emseebeans, Foxesareprettycute, JuliaBloodyMeow, LadyLanera, Lightwoodsisabelle, Ok_thanks, Sceld, Starryinspace, Xo_em.

> Christmassy "Ho-Ho-Ho" Fics {🤠🐓} > Fake/Pretend Relationship {🤠🐓} > Marriage Fic Recs {🤠🐓} > Childhood Friends-Sweethearts {🤠🐓} > Getting Back Together (Part One & Part Two) {🤠🐓}

On This Day, This Accursed Day by Sceld {T}

“Bradshaw,” Jake says with a grin. Rooster groans. “As I live and breathe.” “Hangman,” Rooster replies loftily, “You look…” He pauses for a second too long as his eyes stall on Jake’s shirt. “My eyes are up here, Rooster,” Jake teases, grateful the way his heart is pounding doesn’t transfer to his voice.

Valentine's Surprise by LadyLanera {T}

Hangman and Rooster are preparing for the birth of their first child while navigating life post-Navy and all the ups and downs that have occurred in their family since October 2019. They have lots of time, though. . . or not.

Sunshine & Roses by abliafina {T}

“How often do you get to be creative Bradley?” Jake asked. “Look, I love your designs, I wouldn’t be here otherwise, but they’re not me.” Bradley crossed his arms, an intrigued look on his face. “You saying you’re giving me free hands?” “Sure am.” Jake made sure to sound confident, but on the inside, his heart beat as if he’d just finished a marathon, “I trust you.”

More Kisses Than Hershey's by Cristinuke {E}

Jake decides to gift Bradley a special Valentine's Day present, because he's nothing but selfless.

Best Laid Plans by emseebeans {E}

Jake has always viewed Valentine’s Day as an important day to celebrate. Bradley thinks it’s a fake, over-commercialized holiday. For their first Valentine’s Day as a couple, Jake sets out to show Bradley he’s wrong, but unfortunately for Jake, best laid plans sometimes have a sneaky tendency to go awry.

Valentine's Day at the Bradshaw-Seresin's by JuliaBloodyMeow {T}

Before he even opens his eyes, Bradley’s brain is rushing with the list of all the things he has to do today...

Can we lay down, lay down together? by xo_em {T}

Bradley (accidentally) hires a professional cuddler for (on) Valentine’s Day.

give you all the love I can by lightwoodsisabelle {M}

This was their first Valentine’s Day together in the three years that they had been dating.

stupid cupid by ok_thanks {M}

“You are the most extra person I know,” Reuben challenges Jake. “How are you not all over this?” aka the one where bradley and jake somehow haven't officially celebrated valentine's day together after 5 years

blooming. by foxesareprettycute {G}

Valentine’s Day has always been a frustrating time for Bradley. This year, that frustration gets to the best of him and he snaps at Jake. Jake, of course, is not happy.

I was enchanted to meet you (please don't be in love with someone else) by starryinspace {G}

“Your date bailed? On Valentine's Day?” Jake flashes Bradley a toothy grin but there’s no warmth behind it. “Broke up with me, actually. Five minutes ago.” “Shit.” Or jake gets dumped on valentine's day & bradley comes to the rescue.

Private Traps by Sceld {T}

Jake’s cheek leans against his elbow where it rests on the window ledge, staring at the world passing by in a blur of colour. His fingers tap absently on the door of the car as the shit radio plays some shit track that Bradley hums along to. His feet are up on the dashboard, tracking mud onto the clean surface that had been so taken care of until he ruined it. He’s making quite a name for himself, doing that now. “Where are we going to go first?” Bradley asks, as the song ends and there’s a couple moments of silence before the next begins. He’s still smiling faintly, the adrenaline and giddiness of rebellion keeping him going. Jake envies him. He’s just been feeling hollow for the past day.  or; It's the 1980s, and teenage Jake and Bradley have a Valentine's Day date after a rash decision.

Home In Time by crowstakeflight {G}

The day started out like any other day while Bradley's deployed, but then Jake gets a surprise.

lift me up (but don't get stuck!) by dumbpilots {T}

It's Valentine's Day and Bradley's in a rush. It's a shame he gets trapped in the elevator with the building’s newest (and hottest) tenant.

And just like that (my world turns upside down) by Chocabel {G}

Accepting a dare to pull a date for Valentine's day is one thing. Getting through said date unscathed is a whole other beast. What could go wrong? Or the one time when there is only one table and Bradley gets more than he bargained for. Maybe Jake does, too.

[zoyalannister]

Gracetopher week 2024

Day 5: First

@gracetopher-week

Read on Ao3

Since I already wrote in many fics the first meeting/”I love you”/kiss/time, I decided to go in a totally different and comedic direction.  Modern!AU where Christopher introduces for the first time his girlfriend Grace to the family, but the Six Nations is on and today's match is Wales vs England. 1032 words.

Grace was a bit nervous, but Christopher held her hand and kissed her on the cheek. 

“Don’t worry, my family will love you,” he said. 

She exhaled a shaky breath. 

She and Christopher had been dating for a few weeks, and now that they’d both finished the exams for their first semester of uni, they had decided it was time to meet his family. He talked about his family a lot, and she knew how close they were, and a little part of her couldn’t calm down the fear that they wouldn’t like her, despite Kit’s constant reassurances of the opposite. 

Christopher gave her a last kiss on the cheek and rang the doorbell. A few moments later, a woman opened the door. 

Grace stared at her: she was in her early forties, had black hair and blue eyes, and was wearing a Wales rugby jersey. 

The woman smiled and hugged her son as she said, “Kit, you came home just in time for the match.”

“Match?” he asked her, puzzled.

The woman let them in as she explained, “The Six Nations. It’s Wales versus England today.”

Christopher made a face that screamed he’d forgotten about it. It was entirely possible: they’d both been so immersed in their respective studies for their exams, neither of them had kept track of the sport events of the season or checked their social media. 

“She is Grace, my girlfriend,” he said, as if remembering why they’d gone to the Lightwoods’ in the first place.

The woman held out her hand to her. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Grace. I’m Cecily, Christopher’s mother.”

“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Lightwood,” Grace replied. 

Cecily waved her hand. “No need to be so formal, you can call me by name.”

Grace and Christopher were led inside, but Grace had barely taken five steps when Cecily addressed her with, “So, Grace, are you supporting Wales or England?”

Before she could reply, a man got in the room. He was obviously Christopher’s father: he looked like an older version of him, except that he had green eyes and didn’t wear glasses. He was wearing an England rugby jersey and handed Christopher an identical one saying, “Kit! Here’s yours.”

Christopher hugged him before saying, “Dad, she is Grace, my girlfriend.”

“Gabriel Lightwood, nice to meet you.”

As they shook hands, Grace saw Kit quickly taking off his shirt to wear the white one his father had just given him.

“You’re supporting England, right?” Gabriel asked her.  

Grace glanced at Christopher for help. What was she supposed to say?

Was she supposed to pick England, like the two men? Or Wales, like his mother?

“Kit! You’re back!”

A little boy wearing Wales’s red jersey, not older than eight years old and with wild black hair and green eyes, ran towards them, and hugged Christopher tight.

“Hey, Alex, how are you?”

His little brother smiled. “I’m great! The match is starting, come here!”

Alex dragged Kit over to the living room, and Grace took her chance to avoid giving a reply to that million-pound question. 

While Christopher’s parents discussed what crisps and drinks to bring into the living room, Grace walked inside to find two women sitting on the sofa.

One looked so similar to Cecily, Grace only guessed she had to be Christopher’s sister. She kept her hair short and wasn’t wearing any jersey: instead, she had a Guns N’ Roses t-shirt. The girl next to her was Indian, and by the way she was holding the other woman’s hand, Grace guessed they were partners. Most importantly, she wasn’t wearing a jersey either.

“Grace, this is my sister Anna and her girlfriend Ari. You met Alex already, but he was too rude to introduce himself.”

“I’m not rude!” the child yelled. “I was just excited.”

Grace chuckled as she shook his hand before doing the same with Anna and Ari’s.

“Did Mom and Dad ask you to choose who you’re supporting?” Anna asked.

“Yes, they did,” Grace answered, then pointed at the other woman’s clothes and added, “Who are you supporting?”

Anna shrugged. “I support good sportsmanship.”

“It’s a fancy way to say that she changes sides according to who’s winning,” Christopher cut in. 

“I don’t support anyone,” Ari intervened. “We don’t have rugby in India, and I don’t understand the rules.”

Christopher rolled his eyes as he sat next to his sister and gestured at Grace to do the same before addressing Ari. “You’ve been living in London since you were a child. You just pretend not to understand rugby because Mom and Dad won’t doubt your word.”

Ari laughed at that. “It may be,” she said with a wink.

“Please, Ari, support Wales this time!” Alex exclaimed as he sat on the arm of the sofa next to the woman.

“I will see how the match goes.”

Grace felt a little twinge of envy looking at them. She’d never had a loving family, and she was a bit jealous of the ease with which Christopher, Anna, Ari and Alex talked to each other. 

But also…

Neutrality was an option.

When Cecily arrived, a few moments later, all the Lightwood siblings and Ari were lost in their talks about statistics, points and players, and so Grace got up to help Cecily put the soda and the packets of crisps on the coffee table. 

“Thanks, Grace.”

“No worries. Anyway, as for who I’m supporting, my family has never been into rugby and I wouldn’t know who to pick.”

Cecily just smiled at that answer. “Don’t worry, you’ll see that Wales is the best team when we crush England, and you’ll know who to support next time.”

“I love your confidence,” Gabriel Lightwood intervened, bringing more crisps and some bottles of beer on the table. “But you must know we are going to win.”

It turned into a full-on fight that involved the whole family. It wasn’t serious, but both the parents started listing the respective nation’s victories to each other, with their children chiming in and adding spice to the argument. 

Grace stayed out of it, but as the conversation unfolded, she smiled. 

For the first time, she finally felt at home.

[irish-urn]

The McTuri Mercenaries

Pinterest Board for The McTuri Mercenaries!!

(Honestly, it was super fun to make and I think the vibes are on point.

Playlist for The McTuri Mercenaries!!!

(in case anyone wants a breakdown of the songs and why, please check out the Read More)

"Flight Risk" — Tommy LeFroy

I wanted to be something you couldn't put down

Basically, when Dennis and Nora divorced, Dennis took Casey and Lizzie with him to the Elven Halls of New Yorke; and when Abby left George, she took Derek, Edwin, and Marti with her back to the Fey Wilds. So this song is basically the kids TO George and Nora, almost like an apology for leaving (even though it's not their fault???)

Honestly, I like the vibe.

"Like a Prayer (Choir Version)" from Deadpool and Wolverine

I hear you call my name and it feels like home

Not only is this just an excellent song and good vibes, I think of it as the McTuri kids showing up when they get the news about George and Nora's arrest. It's the five of them showing up to find Simon (who I think Casey and Lizzie knew about, but not the Venturis), and it's about Simon, scared and alone, finding out his family is much bigger than he originally thought.

"Drama" — Spencer Sutherland

Woke up with an attitude, painted smile on my face; win or lose, you get to choose when all the world's a stage

MAY I INTRODUCE TO YOU: DEREK THE ROCKSTAR, Bard from the College of Glamour. This is his life — and, honestly? For the first time, I chose a Main Character, and he is IT. He's the guy telling the story, and he's gonna make it damn good and LOOK damn good while he's telling it.

"This is Me" from The Greatest Showman

We are bursting through the barricades and reaching for the sun: we are warriors!

They may be a bunch of oddballs and misfits — there's nothing easy about being half-bloods with powers you're struggling to control — but they're not ashamed of who they are either.

"Yellow Flicker Beat" — Lorde

I'm a princess cut from marble, smoother than a storm.

This is Casey's theme song. She's a lot tougher than she looks: maybe she is in a pink tanktop and skirt with grey leggings, but she's a Monk of the Open Hand, and she'll kick your ass.

...She might also trip up when she's distracted by something.

"Firebreather (feat. Reignwolf)" — Macklemore

"Glitter & Gold" — Barns Courtney

I am flesh and I am bone, arise (ting ting) like glitter and gold. I've got fire in my soul, rise up (ting ting) like glitter...

IF this fic has a theme song, this is it. I almost named the fic after this song. It's just... Exactly the right song.

Got a Guns N Roses t-shirt, and never listened to the band. Just being honest, I just thought that shit looked cool.

EDWIN, my beloved Sorcerer with Wild Magic. It's not easy being a nerd with fire in your veins; it's not easy being a half-fey with wild magic and an analytical mind; it's not easy growing up unsure of what you can do. But things are looking up: he's on a quest!

"Lightning and Thunder" — Marianas Trench

Fate is calling: it's turning, burning in my veins

This is the McTuri Mercenaries. They might not know exactly what they're doing, might not be sure they're doing the right thing, but they do know it's only the beginning.

"Colors of the Wind" — Tokio Hotel

You can own the Earth and still, all you'll own is earth until you can paint with all the colours of the wind.

Lizzie, Druid of the Circle of the Moon, is not afraid to tell people exactly how nature IS. And Nature is wild and PUNK and beautiful, and she's going to protect both it AND her family. (Yes, I chose the punk version because Lizzie is punk)

"Run Boy Run" — Woodkid

This ride is a journey to — the secret inside of you.

This song is a VIBE, okay? Imagine the McTuris fighting a bunch of monsters, okay? And then realizing they're way out of their depths and having to run for their lives! :D

"Just a Girl" — Florence + the Machine

Oh, I'm just a girl, all pretty and petite; so don't let me have any rights.

Marti is a lot stronger and faster and smarter than most 15 year olds, okay? She's not only a Ranger, but a Beast Master. Her best friend is a saber-toothed tiger. Her mother is a Siren. She can shoot an arrow through your eye. She may be 5'1 and 105lbs, but she is FIERCE. Don't patronize her.

"Glory and Gore" — Lorde

Glory and gore go hand in hand — that's why we're making headlines.

Again, this is all of them. Except this time: they're winning. They just took on a big, scary job, and they completed it: got the money and the good review, and, ugh. The blood lust is real, and soooooo satisfying.

"I'm Still Here" — John Rzeznik

Now you know me and I'm not afraid.

Simon, the Rouge in Training, may only be seven years old, but he's already watched his parents get arrested for a crime they didn't commit, watched his older half-sister dislocate a man's arm, his other half-sister turn into a bear and tear a tree trunk out, watched another sister clean blood off her tiger's fangs, watched fire blast out of his half-brother's hands, watched his eldest half-brother turn into a hypnotizing faerie and charm half a tavern... He's growing up. He's going to grow up into someone amazing... If given the right guidance. Because he's here and he's staying.

"I2I" — Magnolia Park

"Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?" — Taylor Swift

You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

This is the Venturis, who have spent the last 14 years in the Fey Wilds. It's crazy. It's wild. The Fey don't operate by the same rules as humans. And although they all may look charming and beautiful: watch out. They are brimming with magic and spite, and they'll rip your throat out.

If you're ever lonely, stop! You don't have to be. After all, it's only a beat away from you to me.

There are a lot of differences and distances between the McDonalds and the Venturis, but there's a lot of love there to bridge the gaps. No matter how much they argue and bicker and fight, they've got each other's backs.

"All I Know So Far" — P!nk

I will be with you 'till the world blows up.

The McDonald sisters. They may not have all the answers, but they have each other. May God help anyone who tries to separate them or hurt the other.

"I Was Made for Lovin' You" — YUNGBLUD

The Dasey song. Because, despite it all, they were made for each other.

Tonight, I wanna see it in your eyes; feel the tension... There's something that drives me wild.

"Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)" — Green Day

It's something unpredictable, but in the end, is right; I hope you had the time of your life.

And at the end of the day, they learned a lot and grew together (a full TWO LEVELS!!!), and wouldn't change a thing.

[thewholecrew]

@headstrongblake said: “I had a dream about you… you died” / grant & nick 😩

though it didn't happen too often, it did happen more recently for nick to appear outside grant's apartment at odd times of the night. it had been one of the reasons he would leave octavia's, because he was worried about nick and what would happen if he wasn't there to open the door. but tonight was different, or at least in what nick said when he showed up. his banging on the door sounded more urgent than it did drunk, almost frightened.

by now he assumed it was nick and was no longer as startled by the banging. tugging on a t-shirt, grant still tucked his gun into the back of his pants, checking through the peephole before opening the door. but again, it was nick. "nick," he spoke with concern seeing how relieved the man had appeared once grant was in front of him. brows furrowed at that, at the fact that nick still appeared to be drunk, to be unkempt in a manner that grant hadn't seen before -- well, before jacob. he smelled of alcohol and cigarrette smoke which had uneasy goosebumps rise along grants arms.

once nick was inside and the two were seated once again in the living room, grant leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "nick... what's going on?" he asked, rubbing his hands together in a way of fidgeting. there was a long silence after his question as grant tried to meet those crystal blue eyes yet nick avoided him, had done so since the initial relief on his face. then, eventually, i had a dream about you... you died.

lips parted at that but he was speechless a moment, honey eyes studying nick as they shined with sympathy. a nightmare from what he could gather. and with how closely after since jacobs death, he could only imagine what kind of twisted horror the man's mind had put him through. "ah.." he finally managed, acknowledging the sentence as fingers laced together. "i'm... sorry.. that couldn't've been pleasant..." he gave a slow head nod as he rose from the chair he'd sat in across from the couch to where nick was restlessly seated.

joining beside him, a hesitant hand went to his shoulder, "i'm okay," he told him even if it might have appeared obvious. waking from nightmares were a head fuck from time to time, especially if it felt as if it was real. he offered nick a small, reassuring smile, squeezing his shoulder before he took his hand back. grant was quiet a moment as he thought to himself, brows knitting together before he glanced sideways at nick. without a word, he rose from the couch to grab a bottle of whiskey from his cupboard and two glasses. setting them down on the kitchen table he poured them both a generous glass.

he waited for nick to join him as he sat down at the table, taking a sip as honey eyes watched nick lower himself into the chair across from him and take the liquid back like he'd been poured a shot. lips pressed together but he leaned forward and poured nick some more, "you want to tell me about it...?" he offered then with a raised brow.

[samstclair]

Pedro Pascal’s Thespian

Anonymous Request - "Hiya Sammy!

I was wondering if you could do something short but not TOO short, a girl still wants her cozy bedtime read! Anyway, I know it's not that exactly ethical, but I think a great story idea would be Pedro Pascal being your theater teacher (university, no high school p!do stuff here <3) and you're his student, or maybe a co-worker? I don't know, but I know you know! Maybe he wants to see you after class, some storyline like that? Thanks a million billion!

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

"Oh my god, you're the guy. The guy from those posters! Those like, "Have You Seen This Man In Your Dreams" posters! I knew it! You looked familiar! Like a frog!"

The man with the thick ass unibrow furrowed that unibrow in confusion. He rose his hands up, backing up, "No, I'm not. You're just mistaken, I'm not him. I'm just a friendly Samaritan, that's all."

You continued to walk towards him, gun now raised. "You lied to me, after all this time. You're him."

"No, please!"

"I won't hesitate, bitch!"

Pow. Pow. Pow. POW......beep beep beep BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEEBEEEEEEPPPPEPEPEPEPBBBEEEEP

Your eyes fluttered open, cringing at the sound of all too familiar alarm. You rose your arm and continued to slam your hand on the nightstand until you were able to land it on the alarm, effectively hitting snooze and effectively breaking it in half.

You rubbed your face, pulling the blankets over you to avoid the sunlight that came through your apartment window. There was the sound of traffic and commotion and all that other New Yorkan bullshit.

"What a weird dream," you thought to yourself. "I shouldn't watch so many conspiracy videos before bed."

Then forgetting that dream all in an instant because that's how dreams work, you rose and cracked every single bone in your body. Your favorite one to crack was that tailbone.

beep beep beep BEEP BEEPE BEPEPEPPEPE

"JESUS CHRIST BITCH! A GIRL IS FUCKING UP ALREADY MY GOD!" you yelled, ready to karate chop that already destroyed alarm once more, until you realized it wasn't your alarm. In fact, that all too familiar beeping just moments before also wasn't your alarm. It was your phone.

You picked it up, "Hello?"

"Y/N! Where are you?! Class is starting in like, fifteen minutes, get your booty down here or you'll be fucking expelled! Thespians are supposed to be punctual beings don't you get it?!"

Timmy Tim hung up right after, not giving you a chance to talk. And you weren't sure you could have had the opportunity arose. You checked the time - it was ten A.M. You were supposed to be up an hour ago.

"Oh fuck fuck FUCK!" you whined, grabbing the first pair of pants near you. Your PJ t-shirt would just have to do! "Oh my God, why am I always late?! First that carpet interview, and now this?"

Before you knew it, you were on the streets of Brooklyn hauling ass to your university building. You felt as if you were in a movie, breezing past all sorts of people, from those in suits cosplaying as characters in Succession and Wall Street brokers, to those TikTok fashion students, to Billy Eichner from Billy on the Street!

Running was what you did best, perhaps the ONLY thing you did best. You ran and ran, stomped and stomped, doing summersaults and other parkour shenanigans as to avoid crashing into anyone. Simone Biles WATCH OUT!

You jumped over a rat, a pizza slice, a rat eating a pizza slice, pigeons, cracks on the cement to avoid cracking yo mama's back. The constant horn honking and New York accents fueled you, you were your own person in this big apple, just like everyone else...

But wait - a girl needed her coffee. Like those Forever 21 t-shirts, a girl cannot function let alone LIVE without her coffee. You wouldn't mind being late for stopping at a Starbucks line. Those girls that would come in late to class with their loud fucking car keys in hand, a grande frap in the other, well, they had a point, to say the very least, after all.

And you did just that. You saw the green Starbucks lady just up ahead! You ran and ran!

Once you got your venti brown sugar shaken espresso with an added five shots of espresso after waiting in line for twenty minutes, you were back to your task.

"Hey mama you wanna hit this?!"

You turned at the harsh, deep and guttural voice. It was the same man who would cosplay as a Breaking Bad character you had always passed by, now holding up a crack pipe to you. He was dead serious.

You then held up your venti brown sugar shaken espresso with an added five shots up to him, as if you were cheering together.

"No thanks," your bimbo ass yelled back as you kept speed walking away, "I have my own crack here <3!" Forever 21 would've loved you for that. Instead of those proverbs they print at the bottom of their plastic bags, they should instead plaster your face as a replacement!

His eyes widened. He seemed extremely taken aback, soon following your response with a horrible coughing-laughing combo. It was very reminiscent to that meme of Idris Elba on Hot Ones.

The all too familiar university building was just up ahead. It looked like every other building in this city but you KNEW it wasn't just an ordinary building - it was the Waystar School for the Theatrical Arts - a prestigious and extremely overly expensive school for, well, the theatrical arts. You never saw yourself as a theater major, and to be quite frank, you hated Hamilton because it reminded you of those weird kids in the school hallways, but it wasn't until you were chased out of Colombia with hundreds of thousands of dollars that you thought - well I might as well do SOMETHING with this money...but that's neither HERE nor THERE and we WON'T be delving into as to why that happened!

Timmy Tim was standing outside the steps, his scrawny and tall ass looking down at his phone and back up to the street, a worried look plastered all over his Victorian doll looking ass face.

"Oh my God, Timmy! I'm here," you waved your arms so hard you felt them go numb, "over here!"

He whipped his head to see you, his frown was turned upside down.

"Y/N!"

You stopped in front of him, ready to catch all that breath that left you as you ran. Your sides ached, you felt like an old man going up like three steps.

"Y/N, what happened? What took you so long?" he asked. "And wait, what are you wearing?"

You looked down to your pants...

bruh.

"Um, I didn't have time to pick my outfit, these were the first things available!"

"Cookie monster? Really?"

"Listen Timmy," you snapped, "I didn't have time! Would you rather have me show up in underwear?!"

"I thought you didn't wear underwear. You love to call yourself a "freeballin' commando girl", right?"

You took a minute and thought to yourself. You felt that New York wind mixed with gasoline and steam from hot dog water ride up your bare ass - it was cold. He was right, there's nothing under these pajamas.

"Well, at least my shirt's....okay?" you looked down and stretched it out to get a better look. There was a mixture of stains and wrinkles plastered all over. Some of the stains you recognized, but some you didn't. There was mustard, ketchup and mayo mixed together, boogers, nail polish and makeup smears, Bang energy drink, oil from sour cream and onion Lays chips that you wiped on it with your fingers, watermelon juice, and more. The shirt itself was a light pink and once read  "Holy Crêpe!". It was part of a set you bought when you were back in Paris, but we don't talk about Paris here, just like Colombia. But whatever because now it's faded away, gone from existence. You forgot, this was your depression shirt that you hadn't changed out of the entire fucking week.

"Your shirt looks like Jackson Pollock painted it but he was also blind," he said, embarrassed.

"That's definitely ableist, Timmy Tim," you said. "We gotta go, we're definitely late now!"

You both ran inside, crashing into the glass doors as you kept forgetting they were "pull" instead of "push". But actually, they were neither. You didn't see the big ass sign on the window of the door saying "TO OPEN PRESS BUTTON", as you were too caught up with wiping the remnants of stains that transferred onto the glass as best you could, but to no avail. But you still tried.

"Timmy, hit the button!"

"What button?"

"The big metal one! The one with the Stephen Hawking chair!"

Timmy Tim looked at the handicapped button at the side of the wall, then back to you, in awe. "Bitch, you mean a wheelchair?"

He pressed it, letting the doors open by themselves as you were still trying to clean them.

Timmy gave you a dirty look as they opened slowly. "You know, you shouldn't take part in abusing the system. Neither should the school. It's fucked up, honestly."

"And you should know better than to go to dinner with Kanye West in today's day-in-age, but you don't hear me talking shit! I've seen that photo!" you continued to watch the door open insanely and inconceivably slow.

"Um, actually, Kid Cudi was there also. And Pete Davidson! It wasn't just Kanye!" he shot back.

When the door finally fucking opened, the two of you squeezing through. You gave the janitor a wimpish Jennifer Coolidge-esque smile before running up the stairs, feeling guilty for those stains.

"I fucking hate stairs," you said, legs going up and down, up and down, "why couldn't we use the elevator?"

"Because you broke it, remember?" he snapped as he ran up in front of you. His attitude definitely soured after that Kanye comment.

You suddenly recollected that catastrophe. Not your fault you underestimated the power of the gust from your sneeze. You hated allergies.

"Plus, stairs are better - since your fat ass won't do the stair master at the gym!"

"Watch it Timmy, the stair master is actually harder than it advertises to be!" You guys had hit the third floor, only two more to go. "You know, you talk a lot of shit. I can airdrop your stupid Statistics rap to everyone here, INCLUDING the Dean. Keep up the smack talking!"

You two had finally hit your floor, your class was now just down the hallway. Timmy Tim Tim stopped in front of you, almost causing you to topple back down the stairs. He was very serious. He leaned in to whisper.

"You know how sensitive that video is to me," he warned, before turning and going towards the class. You followed closely behind, feeling silenced.

You both entered the classroom, careful not to bring any attention on yourselves. But let's be honest you were both late as fuck and you also looked a little shaken up, as if you were two weeks into another one of your pink Benadryl benders. Which arguably, you were.

All your classmates looked at you two and as you took your seats. You noticed that your professor was absent, clear from sight.

"Um, where's our professor?" you leaned in and asked Timmy Tim Tim Tim.

He rolled his eyes and let out quite the scoff, "Y/N, sometimes I wonder how you even know how to  walk straight or chew food. Didn't you read the email he sent us like, two days ago?"

You thought back, scratching and searching in your mind for this "email". However, you weren't really sure, as you had forgotten your school email's password and every time you tried to log in, you were locked out and eventually the website blocked you completely. But you wouldn't dare tell this to anyone, this stayed between you and yourself and God.

"Um, yeah I did," you replied, defensive, "I, uh, I just wanted to see if you got the email. You know, testing you." you smiled, biting your tongue like a white mom, your favorite emote. He didn't seem amused.

"I'm kinda nervous, to be honest. He's like," he leaned in, closer, you smelled his wet breath but kind of didn't mind?, "like, a real actor."

It was hard for you to pretend you knew who and what the fuck he was talking about.

"So what? I've never even heard of him, to be honest," you said, fishing for Timmy Tim to reveal the name of your professor's replacement, "like, what's he been in?"

Timmy Tim backed up and gave you a long, blank face. "Are you serious?"

"Serious as cancer," you smiled.

"Pedro Pascal? Like, Pedro Pascal. Narcos, Game of Thrones, Mandolorian, that one Sia music video," he listed, "we literally binged-watched Last of Us, like, three times at your apartment because you said you wanted to take in every aspect of his face you might've missed."

The news caused you to drop possibly the loudest, hardest fart, but luckily someone dropped their textbook at the same time so the noise drowned out. What a good idea.

The door whipped open, slamming against the wall and causing a giant hole. The classroom fell deathly silent...

And then in he came...

There he was...

He was tall, big. He had blocky, black, and dog-chewed 3D glasses that looked like had its lenses popped out deliberately. He wore a grey cardigan that hung down below his butt. He gripped a Starbucks iced quad espresso in a venti cup with extra ice and six shots in his hand, as if it might fall like Jonah Hill's did. He had a patchy beard but a strong mustache. He gripped in his other hand a dark brown leather briefcase. And lastly, he carried the demeanor of an intimidating yet refreshing and real, Hollywood actor.

"Oh shit, will I get charged for that?" he asked the security guard that escorted him in, pointing at the newly formed glory hole.

"Take it up with Logan," the security guard shrugged and left, closing the door behind him.

He turned to the class and smiled. "Well, hello everyone! Sorry I'm late, I got lost. Couldn't read the signs. These glasses here," he pointed to them, "yeah, they don't work."

He set his briefcase on the desk.

"I can't do this", you panicked. "Mama can't handle this right now."

You really couldn't. You really did wish you saved your password to your notes app, because there would've been a lot of preparation needed for this that frankly you did not fucking have. How were you supposed to react to this little Trojan horse the school just dropped on your ass?

"Well, anyway guys! Thank you so much for joining me! Now, I first have to get this out of the way, but I've never taught a class before so bear with me!" he started, smiling. You were petrified. Frozen. You felt like the son from Hereditary when he got possessed in class. "So if you got the email, you know that your professor's out of town and I was somehow available to teach a university class for a couple of days! So here I am!"

"He's so cool," Timmy Tim whispered in your ear. You couldn't snap out of whatever trance you were in. Honestly it wasn't even a trance you were just stumped.

"So what do we call you, professor?" a student asked.

"Uh," he thought, "Pedro's fine, I guess. Or Mr. Pascal."

"Pedro Mr. Pascal, where'd you get that cardigan? It's so chic, no?" another said.

"Oh this ol' thing," he said, feeling himself, "Target!"

And then you saw it.

He did it.

He did the white mom tongue.

Maybe you two were more connected than you thought? Maybe you were prepared? Like, anyone who does that unscripted and unsolicited is automatically an ally, right?

"Well, anyway. I know this is an acting class but I wanna see how skilled you are in the writing department. After all, a show or movie is only as good as the writing! All those Writer's Guild protests aren't for nothing! So go ahead, whip something up! It can be about anything, as long as it is formatted like a script! None of that narrative writing bullshit because my attention span is not all that great!"

As everyone whipped out their laptops and began writing, you were still in your stump. Timmy Tim had to check in if you were okay.

"Uh, Y/N? The fuck is wrong with you?" he asked, somewhat disgustingly. "It looks like you're astral projecting."

You snapped back and looked to him. "Oh my God, Timmy Tim Tim. I didn't think HE'D be our professor!" you hushed.

"But you said you read the email -"

"- um, yeah, obviously I did," you interrupted, trying to save the lie your fat butt told, "I just thought, you know, he's a celebrity and he wouldn't actually have time for this bullshit. He's like, a big deal."

Tim Timmy looked over to the new professor. "I mean, look at him. He definitely has the time."

You looked over to Mr. Pedro Pascal. He was talking to a group of kiss-ass teacher's pet students.

"So are you guys #teamBarbie or #teamOppenheimer?" he asked, leaning against his desk in a true, professor-who-thinks-he's-Robin-Williams-in-Dead-Poets-Society, "I'm not your ordinary teacher, I change my student's lives!", professor fashion.

"Well, one nearly eviscerated an entire population and the other's just a girl who loves pink? I think it's an easy, obvious answer, professor," one student replied.

"No, no," Mr. Pedro Pascal laughed, "I meant which are you going to watch first when they come out."

"Oh! Well, in that case, I'm #teamBoffem!"

Timmy Tim (to the third power) looked back to you. "We should really start our work. We can't let these smelly theater kids beat us. I won't let them beat me."

And with that, Tim Tim grabbed his laptop, smacked it on his desk, hunched his back forward, cracked his fingers and started to type away, all whilst resembling a cartoon character. He was so serious.

"Shit, I forgot. This is school", you thought. "I actually gotta like, work."

You then went into your bag for your laptop, opened up a blank Word doc, and stared at that screen for about five minutes before you snapped back into reality. You looked up to the new professor, who was now writing on the board his name. You thought it was kinda weird, cause like, who the fuck would not know his name?

"What the fuck am I going to do?" you thought, feeling that breakdown coming in HOT, "what's a girl to write about?"

But anyway, he was so fine. You could definitely scope out his dad body under it, causing you to get overwhelmed with anxiety and not gonna lie a little hot down there. But, now was not the time for another shit, despite how much your body's immediate reaction was to do so. Not you're fault you have IBS. Imagine what he would think of you if you asked to go to the bathroom? Ew, gross. You'd much rather wake up to find a lizard stuck to your nipple pasty from the night before on your dresser again, that you had to set free and say sorry to than ever give him the HINT that you, a girl, pooped.

You looked back down to your screen. Because of your inactivity, the screen went black and you were left seeing your reflection.

And then it hit you.

Fuck him thinking how you poop....

GIRL LOOK AT YOURSELF! YOU STILL GOT THAT BENDER SHIRT ON! PEDRO SAW YOU IN YOUR CRUSTY STATE OH FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You began to fully panic, feeling your breath go short and the hysteria creeping in. It drove you crazy as you looked around you, freaking the fuck out that you were sticking out in the crowd of students, not only physically but emotionally. You did NOT want to be that one kid that cries in class. Or have a freakout. Like time and place. What ever happened to you doing it at her birthday dinner?

You felt yourself begin to black out. Why today? Why why why oh my god this is not good. Girl. This is not fun or fresh.

You tried to at least fix your hair. It was picked up in a hair clip, with two strands in the front hanging out. You ran your fingers over them to make them look at least presentable, but the more you ran your fingers the greasier they got. Now you just had two, greasy ass strands of hair hanging out in the front of you. Great.

BUT WAIT!

"Timmy, I need you to do me like, the biggest favor a girly can ask for."

He looked over to you, annoyed that you interrupted what he thought was going to be his magnum opus. You glanced at the screen - the man had already written eight pages worth of material. There was no way, you definitely got the vibe he plagiarized but whatever now's not the time.

"What? Don't you see I'm busy?"

"I need you to cough, like, really fucking loud, on some tuberculosis shit." You reached down into your bag and shuffled through, finding your Vanilla scented dry shampoo. You smiled, relieved.

Mama's gonna put this to work...

"What? Why?"

"Just fucking do it okay? Jesus Christ, you're literally an actor it's your job to fake shit," you held it up, as inconspicuously as you could, but let's be real the bottle is huge cause you just HAD to get the biggest one from Ross for eight dollars. "On the count of three. One, two, three -"

You had your fingers on those strands, and the moment you said 'three' you went apeshit. They were covered in a thin layer of white, the smell stunting you a bit in its power and it's cloud surrounding you like you hit an obnoxiously large vape.

At the same time, Timmy let out the loudest, thickest, most bronchitis-esque, cough he could. It definitely worked, since everyone in the class gave him heavy side eyes instead of you, who by that time had already dropped the can back into your bag and was already going to work by rubbing the white shit deep into those strands.

The cough must've been extremely powerful, as Timmy Tim Timmy's eyes welled up. He turned to you.

"Is that it?" he asked, his voice resembling the Breaking Bad man from earlier.

You smiled, biting your tongue. "That's it, girl. See? I told you, you're such an actor. It sounded very believable."

"Really?" he lit up a bit, albeit still looking sickly.

"Yeah, like, if you were in France during the bubonic plague era and you coughed like that, your ass would've definitely been, like, grass," you told him. "Trust me, I know a lot about that time in history." You felt so much better, not only had your anxiety seemingly slipped away but you loved hyping your girls up. It's what bffs are supposed to do, after all.

You looked back into the reflection of your laptop. The white had pretty much been dispersed, and now instead of it looking matted like it was greasy, it just looked matted as if you underestimated how much spray you actually put. Oops!

"Whatever, it'll have to fucking do", you thought.

You then opened that Word doc again, your confidence stirring a need to create! Now just what should you write about -  

"Hey! What do you have so far?"

And just like that - time stood fucking still.

You turned your head just a bit to the side and there he was. Tall, in his cardigan. coffee in his breath.

"Oh my God, hey professor! Yeah, let me just go ahead here and," you closed the blank Word doc and began to look through your other saved files. Anything. You need SOMETHING. You looked and looked, all while under the pressure of his presence.

You scrolled through all your gibberish, from late night questionable depression journal entries to your outdated resume, to your notes app, to your weird and obscure lists - you just needed something. And you needed it fast.

"Yeah like it should be here," your voice trembled, but you tried your best to mask it as you just being a giggly, happy girl, "I don't know why it closed! So silly! Soooo silly of me! So so silly -"

And then you found it.

You cringed, but it would have to do.

"Here it is!" you looked up to him. His face sent you chills down your entire conceivable body. It was really him.

"Great, what is it? And why does it smell sweet?" his nose scrunched up in the air, trying to find exactly what that smell was. He looked like a wine connoisseur.  

"Oh, the vanilla?" you said, "that's my body spray!"

He made an impressed face. "I like it. Strong. It's telling you it's vanilla, for sure. Anyway, what is it you wrote?"

You glanced at the open entry on the notes app. No how the fuck were you gonna explain this. You really would've just rather tell him you didn't have shit.

"Um, well, so I don't know if you're like familiar, but there are these things," you really tried. But now you've been caught. Caught in 4K like boys say. "Have you ever heard of POVs?"

"You mean, like fan fiction?"

"Uh, yeah actually. Exactly that."

Though you couldn't see him, you felt Timmy give you a look. He knew what it was. He knew exactly what it was. You saw the first episode of Last of Us when it aired and you just had to open your phone and go to town writing a fan fiction that was also never meant to see the light of day. Let alone the light of Joel himself....

"Okay, interesting. Even though I don't think it's what I asked you guys to do, I'll give it a shot!" he sat on the empty desk to the other side of you, turned your laptop to him, and you sat there, every bit of your self-respect and esteem draining out of you as you watched his eyes move side to side reading the lines.

Let's just say, it was a little NSFW! In fact, it wasn't safe at all. It was horned up and just bad. Unintelligible. Incoherent.

Some minutes went by and you were actually pretty surprised you managed to stay somewhat composed. Really it was your power and ability to disassociate in highly stressful situations to thank. You just fixated on the clock, reminiscing about how being in high-school had you reading the time in a matter of seconds, waiting for that bell to ring. But now, looking at it made that comment Timmy Tim made about being a blind Jackson Pollack hit home.

You clocked back to reality and looked to him. He was deep in thought, deep in the reading. His head rested on his hand and his finger was held at his mouth like those old TikTok's of "pov: you stopped by your English teacher's class during lunch and she's eating a salad" bullshit. His eyebrows were furrowed. It really wasn't that much so you weren't sure why he was taking long.

Moments later, a single tear ran down his face. He slowly and gently shut the laptop closed. He looked as if he had just seen an anal prolapse for the first time but was desensitized enough to not illicit a crazy reaction, but be completely numb as if he used to play the Reddit 50/50 game during his pastime when he was younger.

This actually made you somewhat hopeful. Was your work that groundbreaking it made him cry?

It was now just the two of you, you felt like there was no one else in the world besides you two, now sharing this moment.

"Oh my God, was it like, good?" you asked, in your bimbo self.

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He then put them back on, stood up straight, and let out a deep breath.

"No," he said lowly, "it's fucking really bad. It..... it stinks," he pinched is nose.

You didn't realize but in your fixated daze on the clock, you had little to no sensation in your bowel area therefore no control of them and you let out some farts during his reading that now cumulated into a fart cloud hanging around y'all.

Your eyes widened.

"Sorry, it's my body spray!" you smiled sheepishly, instead you looked fucking psychotic.

"I thought you said your body spray was vanilla?"

"Bath and Body Works sometimes isn't all that good! Or maybe mine just expired, who knows!" you mustered up, "But anyway, what did you think, professor?"

He rose and leaned into your ear. "I think you and I need to talk about this in private. Let's rehearse in my apartment after class."

He then left your desk.

Your ass was left SAT! You still had goosebumps all over your neck and those hairs were standing - did he just invite you to his apartment to 'rehearse'? The fuck does that mean? Is this even ethical? Who knows and who cares cause you're not just gonna go ahead and say no.

"What was that all about?" Timmy asked. "Why did he cry?"

"Timmy, I think he just invited me to his apartment."

Your friend then did the most soyest face a white man can possibly soy face. "Y/N! What?"

You hushed his ass down. "Shut up, I don't want him to hear!"

You looked over to Mr. Pedro Pascal, now talking to other students. No way you just secured this. That dry shampoo was the best call you made in a while.

After the bell rang, you walked out of class with Timmy Tim Timmy at your side, back down the stairs. Just as you were descending, you heard that all too familiar voice.

"Y/N!"

You and your friend turned. Mr. Pedro Pascal was walking towards you. You swear you could hear Timmy's bones chattering from nervousness.

"Hey professor!" you said.

"Oh, you don't need to call me that. Pedro's fine," he looked to your Tim Tim, "hey, I know you - you were in, uh, what's that movie called?" He began snapping his fingers as he tried to think.

Timmy laughed, pretty modestly, as Pedro tried remembering, embarrassed. "Oh, don't worry about it. You've probably seen me in Lady Bird, Call Me By -"

"Oh, no wait! I remember! Interstellar! Yeah you were amazing in that," he turned to you. You felt a rocket of anxiety go up your ass. "Anyway, Y/N, I thought, since my place is like a couple blocks away, we could go there now together. I would really like to work on your story."

"Of course, Pedro! Let's go!"

You and Pedro left Timmy standing there, clueless. You didn't really feel bad leaving him. He had to know that right now, it was all about you. It's what a good wing-girl would do.

As you and Pedro were descending down the steps talking about whatever mumbo jumbo, you saw these two men dressed in black suits talking at the front desk. You weren't sure why, but something was alarming about them. You thought for a moment that since it's an acting school or whatever, it might've been two dudes recreating Men in Black. But, no. No, something deep inside you was telling you that these two men had no interest in Will Smith OR Tommy Lee Jones.

"Huh," Pedro said, also seeing them. "What's the IRS doing here?"

Oh. Fuck.

It all made sense. Always trust your intuition, honestly. And speaking of tuition - that's what they were probably here for. You taking off with student loans that you had no intention of paying back before you left to Colombia, your fraudulent GoFundMe page - your past was catching up to you. And now, they were here. Right here.

"Mama ain't letting no Uncle Sam ruin her chances with Pedro", you told yourself. "Mama ain't letting that happen."

"Hey, Pedro! Have you ever seen the back of this place?" you asked, stopping the two of you from reaching the landing.

He stopped. "What? Do you mean, like the alleyway?"

"Yes, exactly! The front doors, they're like, broken!"

"Oh, that's what I thought too. Remember, the glasses?" he pointed to them, "Can't see. But the people at the front desk said they're not you just have to press the button -"

You gripped his hand and yanked him down the stairs, making a sharp turn down the hall towards the back alley door. Pedro, too much in shock, just started running too. He then began to laugh because of how crazy and not like the other girls you were being right now.

You glanced behind and there they were - the men in black - high-tailing it after you. They were not playing around. You couldn't be caught, no, not now!

You ran faster, faster, faster! It was what you knew best! Your feet smacked that floor like crazy!

Once you two made it to the back alley door, you stopped and analyzed your surroundings. In the distance, you saw those two men - but you knew you had to make a decision.

You looked to your left and on the wall, you saw it. The fire alarm.

You gripped it, pulling the fuck out of down, causing the loud ass alarms to begin blaring. The sprinklers were now turned on, drenching everything in water. People began freaking the fuck out, running out the door but crashing into it as they forgot too, it was broken.

The rush of adrenaline fueled through you as you saw those Men in Black slip and fall on the floor. The makeshift little waterpark you just made just bought you enough time to officially make it out!

"Why would you do that, Y/N? Are you crazy, that's illegal!" Pedro yelled at you, still somewhat excited.

"Because, uh," you thought of something to say, anything but you possibly being labeled as a fugitive, "because the thoughts! The intrusive ones, you know?"

His worried face soon calmed down. He laughed, relieved, "oh, yeah. Man, I hate those. We should probably go!"

You pushed the back alley door open, and just like that, you were out!

You weren't completely sure how far you two ran, but it was definitely far enough from those agents. Though still drenched in water, you soon ran off a lot of the water off.

You looked to Pedro, who, frankly, you forgot momentarily was with you. He had a gleeful, fun smile on his face. The city was passing you two quickly, it felt like some climax to some dramatic ass movie. Very much so the end of How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days-esque.

"You're crazy, Y/N, you know that? Like you're not well!"

"Yeah, so funny whatever," you rushed, "maybe we should go to your apartment now?"

You kept looking behind him, making sure the Men in Black hadn't caught up to you in their hyper speed, but it was hard to tell because again it's New York and everyone's in a suit? You literally just looked insane and paranoid.

"Yeah, I guess we just have to Uber there 'cause we're pretty far. Do you have the app?"

"Uh, yeah def," you opened your phone and realized you were shaking. You couldn't let Pedro see that so you turned your back to him. He was confused, but not offended enough to ask why you did that.

And then you forgot - the bottom half of your screen literally doesn't work. Every time you went to Apple they swore they fixed it but it would then bug out and stop working. It was a toxic cycle tbh and you really did need a new phone.

You turned back around. "Sorry, Pedro. I don't have the app, maybe we should just get a taxi instead? You know, support local businesses?"

He agreed and you two began flagging down yellow cabs, but none stopped. You hated when they did that. Ain't that your job?

One finally stopped, and Pedro opened the door for you like the gentlemen he is. You sat your big fat butt into it and closed the door. Just as Pedro was walking around on the other side to sit beside you, you looked up at the driver.

Ain't. No. Fucking. Way.

"Nathan?" you said, exasperated.

The Canadian named Nathan Fielder turned to see you, also exasperated. "Holy Crêpe! Y/N?"

"Na fuck this," you hopped back out and slammed that door SHUT! People outside the cab must've thought you saw a rat from how quickly you exited that vehicle.

"Y/N? What is it?" Pedro asked, just before he entered himself.

"Pedro, I actually just realized I'm more of a walker," you said. "Like, on some Walking Dead shit."

He shrugged, closed the door and you two began to walk down to his apartment with no questions asked. Jesus, what more could go wrong today? But no biggie cause you were literally going to Pedro Pascal's apartment!

As you two began down the sidewalk, you felt this force, this inclination to turn back. You swore you've felt this before, almost like deja vu. You weren't comfortable at all with it, but you also felt there would be some relief giving in...

You turned.

And there it was.

The Russian RuPaul furby. That was it, that was the rat.

He was sat in front of the back window of Nathan's cab as he drove it away into the sea of cars, waving its little paw at you, with nothing behind his drag queen eyes.

Fucking monsters...you thought, shuddering at it.

"Hey, you okay?"

You turned to Pedro. He seemed really concerned.

"Oh my God, yeah! You just always have to watch your back, you know? Never know who's an opp!"

"An 'opp'?"

"I forgot, you're a boomer. Can we stop by McDonald's on the way to your place?"

"Yes, I'm starving!" he said. You loved a McDonald's buddy.

Okay let's do time jump you're in the apartment okay it's a nice cute little New York apartment you get the vibes alright cool.

It was now evening, and the sun began to set, casting that golden hour glow into the living room. It had already been a couple hours in, and nothing had yet happened. Pedro was sat on the couch, now looking at a printed out version of your story after he had revised a lot of it, reviewing. You sat on the couch in front of him, and you two were deep in talk about the story.

"-so, I think besides some, you know, grammatical error and stuff, it'd be perfect!"

"Really? Aww, thanks, Pedro. This is a lot of help," you said. "To be honest, I would've never thought that this story would have been read by anyone else but me."

"What do you mean? This is way too good to just be closed off in that Notes app of yours."

There was some moment of silence, as he continued to read the story and you sat there wondering when this 'rehearsing' was going to take place. After all, a girl's had a rough day today. And it was about to get rougher. And not in the sexual way you perv.

"Buzz buzz buzzzzzz", your phone said. You shifted your butt to grab your phone, checking the new notifications. Since the bottom half no longer worked, you need to flip it from vertical to horizontal to back to vertical to access iMessage. It was from Timmy.

iMessage from My bff Timmy Tim 🍑

You clicked it open.

My bff Timmy Tim 🍑: Y/N, call me when you can. It's bad.

You typed back.

You: What is it? A girl's busy.

My bff Timmy Tim 🍑: Did you set off the fire alarm???

You thought to yourself. What the fuck was a girl supposed to say? You had to explain this in person, not through text. It could NOT possibly translate well that way. You instead opted to send a  GIF.

You:

My bff Timmy Tim 🍑: bitch tf???? Y/N, they're saying you could be expelled from the school! You're going to get kicked out of the dorm!

Your asshole tightened at the news. You grew so angry, like, why can't a girl just live? There's literal murders out on the street. Like, chances are someone's doing insider trading on Wall Street as we speak. So what if a girl got $30,000 of her own money and decided to pull on the fire alarm that LITERALLY says "pull" on it?

"Well maybe next time they should put "don't pull" fucking toads", you thought.

"Something wrong, Y/N?" Pedro asked.

You looked up and quickly put your phone away. You smiled again, trying in a reassuring way but again instead you looked manic.

You shrugged. "Ain't no thang but a chicken wang!"

He rose and stretched. "Hey, I have a dinner I need to go to. It's with my bff, Oscar Isaac? You know him, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Can I come?"

He stopped, froze even. He looked at your shirt then back to you. "Um, well, it's really just an actor thing, you know. Business."

"No of course! I get it! I'll get out of the way for you!"

You rose, grabbed the extra copy of your story and quickly walked out, preventing Pedro from seeing your face - as you were on the verge of having an entire breakdown. Your eyes welled up as you ran down the hallway, into the stairwell.

You hid behind the door, hearing Pedro's calls for you, but again you'd rather set another lizard free than have him see you.

You sat down on the stairs after brushing some litter off to the side. Tears ran down your face, you looked down at the paper. You dropped your head down, defeated. Why wasn't anything literally going right? You would've rather missed class altogether!

Some tears fell down your face and dropped onto the paper. You decided to look over it again, specifically the last paragraph, reading what Pedro read:

"Joel pushed the door of your Boston apartment open, exhausted as always. He plopped himself on the couch, hand to his head.

You walked around the corner, in your panties and vintage "Team Aniston" baby tee.

"Aww, are you tired, Joel? Long day?"

"Yeah," he said in his grumpy, low tone.

"Nothing a hug could've solve!" you said, before pouncing on top of him. You hugged him, and he hugs tightly back, he then throws you on the hard floor and you feel his member pressed against your leg. He begins kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fight for dominance but you let him win. He eventually starts going down on you, taking your "Team Aniston" tee off, and starts kissing your labia.

"This...this is a labia," he says.

You lift your legs as he begins to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He holds your foot up and raises himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes are closed, ready to take the boy from Texas in. This is it. No clickers, no Robert, no cordyceps, nothing - just you and Joel."

You stopped reading any further. You didn't realize, but you had a goofy little smile on. You really thought about posting it on Tumblr for the girlies. You got up, feeling a little better now all the tears were out and with a new task on your mind - get your shit from your dorm as you were now probably expelled, and get to work on that fanfic for the girlies!

You got another buzz buzz on your phone and pulled it out.

It was a FaceTime from Timmy Tim 🍑

You answered it.

"Hey Timmy!" you mumbled through boogers and tears.

"Oh my God, did you guys have sex?"

"Bitch does it look like it? I'm literally crying!"

"I don't know, I know you tend to cry after."

"That's sensitive information, Timothee. I'll crack you in half, right before Kylie's BBL ass does!"

"Yeah well that's for the Statistics rap threat, loser ass bitch! So what ended up happening? I don't like seeing my girls down in the dumps."

"He literally just revised my story. That's it. And then went to go eat dinner with Oscar Isaac, you know, your dad. He's such a fucking flake!" you whined, "what's a girl to do in this Big Apple? I just want a dilf sometimes that's it!"

"My dad?"

"Um, yeah. Star Wars or whatever."

"You mean Dune," he corrected.

"Man, you LOVE correcting me! Whatever. Anyway I gotta go, a girl's gotta keep her hopes up in all of this!"

"Come over, Y/N. We'll watch something to get your feelings back up and order boba! You win some, you lose some but what matters is that you'll always have your girls!"

"Oh my God you're the best Timmy I'm on my way as we speak!"

You hung up and bolted for the exit, the fan fiction will just have to wait you guess!

Hope you guys enjoyed!

xoxo,

~Sam St. Clair

[cornishkat]

Protecting M - Pt Five

Gareth Mallory x F!Reader

Warnings:  Guns, violence, swearing, blood, implied sexual violence. NSFW Smut p in v, oral.

Summary: M had been right there was more to you than first met the eye and he sees just how much as you both get yourselves into a dangerous situation.

Notes:  Did know if I would finish this, Benn distracted but have finally come back to it hope you like the ending and apologies for any mistakes or inconsistencies.

As you closed the front door behind you and felt tiredness hit you like a brick wall, today had taken it toll on you. You knew you should have stuck around to get checked out and debriefed but you had needed to get out of that factory.  You needed to put some space between you and M, you were starting to feel Bond had an ulteria motives for getting you to undertake this job.  You had seen him watching you and M, he really was an insufferable bastard at times.   You poured yourself a large whisky before slumping down on the sofa and as you did a subtle waft of aftershave rose off the jacket you were still wearing, a comforting smell of spice and sandalwood, the smell of M.  Taking one last deep breath of the comforting smell of the jacket you shrugged it off and placed it carefully over the back of a chair.  Walking through to the bedroom you pulled off the rest of your clothes and headed for the shower.  The hot water stung at the cuts on your body and you watched the water swirl red at your feet, but it helped to numb your aching muscles.

Pulling on sweats and a t-shirt you went and curled up back on the sofa but before you could refill your glass you heard a knock at the door.  Glancing at the security screen of the front door you were surprised to see M stood on your doorstep.

“Sir what can I do for you”

“I just wanted to make sure you were ok, you had left by the time I finished with Bond.  You should have gone back to HQ, gotten yourself checked out.  I also thought maybe we should talk after today”

Standing back you motioned for him to enter and closed the door behind him.

“Drink?”

“Thank you”

“Make yourself comfortable”

As you poured another glass you watched M pacing quietly around the living room, as you offered him his glass you gestured for him to sit down.  Taking off his coat he sat down and took a sip of his drink.  He was for once not in his usual three piece suit, instead he wore an open neck shirt, the casual look made you look at him in a whole different way.  You sat patiently waiting for him to speak, he obviously had something on his mind for him to come and see you at this time in the evening.

“How are you, did you get those cuts cleaned up?”

“They were just scratches, nothing serious”

“Good, I’m glad”

You watched M, he sat looking down into the amber liquid in his glass and if you didn’t know better, he seemed almost nervous.

“M are you ok?”

“Yes, just wanted to ensure you were ok”

“You said you wanted to talk”

“What you did today, you shouldn’t have done that”

“I don’t understand, I did what I needed to do”

“You had every opportunity to say stop and he would have left you alone and moved on to me”

“And that is why I didn’t say stop”

“You don’t need to protect me”

“I chose to protect you, my choice”

“But why, he was going to……”

“I know but better me than you”

“No, you don’t get hurt for me.  Do you understand that can’t happen”

“M you do understand that Bond brought me into to protect you not to do your filing”

“After today I understand why, I’m glad you’re on my side”

“Not that I did a great job of it”

“That was on me not you, you did more than I did to keep us in one piece, but you put yourself on the line for me”

‘If the position was reversed, would you have done the same for me, would you have said stop and let him hurt me?”

“No of course not”

“Then why is it any different for me”

You watched as M drained his glass, he was still looking down at his glass rather than at you.

“Because it is my job to protect my staff, it is not your job to protect me”

“Technically I’m not your staff and it is my job”

“And that is the only reason you were going to let him….”

Taking a deep breath you drained your glass, was this going were you thought it was going?  Was he wanting you to tell him how you felt, you supposed you had nothing to lose, you had done what Bond had wanted you to do.  Worst case scenario you made a fool of yourself and never saw him again.

“No…”

“Then why?”

He almost whispered, still looking down at his empty glass, moving closer to him on the sofa you gently took the glass from his hands and placed it down on the table.  Placing a hand gently under his chin,

“Please look at me M”

“Gareth, please call me Gareth”

Turning his head, you could see the emotion swirling through his eyes, cupping his face with your other hand you gently pressed your lips to his.  You felt him tense under your touch before leaning into the kiss, his hands gently pulling you towards him.  His soft tentative kiss becoming more urgent, hungrier as a low groan escaped your mouth.   You both pulled away, holding eye contact, holding each other.

“Why did you protect me today Y/N/N?”

“Do I need to say it?”

“I need you to say, I need to hear it”

“Because I seem to be falling for you, and I couldn’t see you hurt”

You watched the smile spread across his face, a smile also mixed with relief.  You gently pushed him back onto the sofa and straddled his lap, his hands went to your hips as you undid his tie and the top buttons on his shirt.  Dipping your head once again you breathed in the scent of him and pressed your lips against the soft skin at the curve of his neck, he groaned as you continued to kiss his neck and trailed your tongue up to earlobe.

“Y/N/N are you sure?”

“Very sure, are you?”

“I couldn’t stop now even if I wanted too”

He wrapped his arms around you and stood up, wrapping your legs around his waist you let him carry you through to the bedroom.  Dropping you gently down in front of him, he ran his hands up under your t shirt before pulling it up over your head.  As he ran his hands over your breasts and gently down over the cuts and bruises on your skin, you saw concern cloud his eyes.  Smiling at him you pulled his braces down over his shoulders and undid the rest of his shirt, you ran your hands over his broad chest as he knelt down in front of you, planting soft kisses on your stomach as he pulled your sweats down over your legs leaving you naked before him,

“Beautiful, so beautiful”

He looked up at you from under his eyelashes as he stood up, his stunning blue eyes never leaving yours as you undid his belt and let his trousers fall to the floor.  Taking a step back you took in every inch of him, pushing down his boxers you let your eyes drop to his hard cock, kneeling on the bed you dipped your head and slowly ran your tongue up over his glistening head.  You felt the growl he emanated reverberate down through his body and through yourself

“Dear god Y/N/N….”

“I think I’m going to enjoy teasing you”

Before you could do anything else he lifted you and threw you down on the bed pinning your hands above your head.

“Really, how about we see how you like being teased”

He trailed his tongue down over your stomach and parting your thighs he planted soft kisses over the insides of them.

“Gareth, please…”

“Please what, tell me what you want”

“You, all of you”

Smiling he dipped his head back down and he started to trail kisses up the inside of your thighs, as you arched your back his tongue lapped at your already wet pussy.  Every nerve in your body was tingling, every fibre of you just wanted him, all of him deep inside of you.  Crying out as he pushed two of his fingers deep inside of you as he continued to lick and suck with his mouth.  You could feel your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach as you writhed under his touch and tried to pull away.

“Please I’m going to come”

“Then come for me”

Bucking your hips, you could feel yourself losing control as he kept going, his fingers curling inside of you as he finally tipped you over the edge.  The climax tore through you, your body shaking as you collapsed back on the bed, panting hard.

Before you could gather yourself, Gareth’s lips were on yours, you could taste yourself on them as he pushed the tip of his hard cock against your still sensitive pussy.

“I need you inside of me, god I need you”

With one smooth thrust he was inside your wet pussy, his hard cock filling you completely.  Wrapping your legs around his waist you pulled him deeper and deeper inside of you as he started to rhythmically thrust in and out of you.

“Damn your so tight around me”

“I want to feel you come inside of me”

Gareth growled as he picked up the pace and you dragged your fingernails down his back.  You could feel another climax building deep inside you as you whimpered into his neck.

“God Gareth….”

As you came over his hard cock and your muscles spasmed around him, you felt him push hard one last time and come deep inside of you.  Panting hard you looked up into his icy blue eyes, gently he rolled off you and lying on the bed next to you he pulled you towards him.

“Well that happened”

“Yes it did”

“Not wishing to spoil the moment Gareth, but I’m not one for playing games.  If that was just a one off…”

Cupping your face gently in his hand, he silenced you with a kiss before you could finish,

“I am not a man for one night stands and after that you  don’t have a hope of getting rid of me, if that is ok with you”

“I think I can handle that, plus we should make sure that wasn’t just a fluke”

“One hell of a fluke, but I think your right, best to make sure”

[alarrytale]

“What we do know for a fact is that when he says in interviews that he got into music at 12-13 by listening to Oasis, that's a blatent lie.” Didn’t he say his first band that he has tattooed covered Green Day and Oasis songs? Also Louis is not the only 1D member that likes Oasis… their songs are classics in their part of the world, it tracks that’s how he got into music even if he listened to other stuff that was popular at the time. Much how teenagers in America got into rock music listening to bands like Guns N Roses.

Also if you actually listen to Oasis, they aren’t a “bloody realism” band. In fact, the quite opposite. Liam Gallagher and Noel Gallagher hated Nirvana and Liam said about them that “music should be uplifting.” Which if it sounds familiar, it’s the way FITF was written. Listen to the songs Stop Crying Your Heart Out, Stand By Me, Live Forever, they sound all very Louis to me in a way!

Hi, anon!

Yes, Louis has said that. He's also said his kid is his and that he's straight. It's all about curating his image and trying to seem cool to a particular target group.

The fact is that we know, because there is evidence out there, that the Rogue did at least one (or two, depending how you count) cover songs. I got a feeling by the Black Eyed Peas (it's on YouTube last time i checked) and Look After You by the Fray (it's vocals by Louis but one of the other The Rogue members produced it). I wouldn't be surprised if they also covered Wonderwall or American Idiot, but i think Louis is trying to bend the truth here. I think they covered popular songs and more pop/pop rock songs than punk rock/britpop/indie songs. They were 14 and performed at school.

At his txf audition he sang Hey there Delilah by plain white Ts and Elvis ain't dead by Scouting for girls which is, according to wikipedia lol, emo-pop and pop rock. It's all very much in the pop genre to me.

I also didn’t say "bloody realism" i said "broody realism". Both the Gal*agher brothers seems like miserable people to me. They write about their working class experience and yeah, maybe it's got an "hey, things are shit, but pull yourself together" vibe about it.

I'm not saying Louis doesn’t enjoy these bands at all, he probably does. What i'm saying is that he's grossly exaggerating and emphasising how much he was into them as a kid. There is no reference of him being into them pre 2020, no posters on bedroom walls in old pics, no band t-shirts, and no trying to emulate them in any way (clothes or style) and no mention of them until now when he's trying to break into the indie scene and revive the britpop era. Louis wasn't an indie kid who found meaning at 14 in songs like Stop Crying Your Heart Out. He listened to the Fray, the Script and Nickleback and liked a variety of top 40 songs. But that's not very cool to say when you're trying to come off as indie and appeal to men who's music taste is pretentious, now is it... hence this rewriting of history were currently exposed to.

Wouldn't it be great if Louis actually owned the fact that he was the biggest S club 7 fan as a kid and that he listens to ABBA? He can do that while also appricate britpop music, alt rock and indie music. That would be genuine and that would be the truth.

[justdancekid]

Don't Waste Any Time!! Take That Vacation!! - A JD Fanfiction

Series: Just Dance 2023 Edition

Characters: Sara and Wanderlust (Can't Stop The Feeling), Brezziana (Physical), Mihaly (Rather Be), Jack Rose (Locked Out of Heaven), Dolores (drivers license), Hadley (As It Was), Taila Sway (I Knew You Were Trouble), Epsilon (Stay), Liv & Blake (Bring Me to Life), Rubika (Wannabe P2)

Relationship: Brezziana/Mihaly

Rating: T

Type: Fluff, Humor, Sunset

Description: Rubika invites the Danceverse Crew to the beach, where the Crew have fun and Brezziana and Mihaly talk about their feelings

(AN: Here's what the Danceverse Crew's beach outfits

Wanderlust: Universe patterned and colored shorts

Sara: a lime green bikini

Brezziana: Her holiday outfit

Mihaly: An unbuttoned shirt, sky blue shorts, and a bikini underneath

Jack Rose: Satin Burgundy shorts

Dolores: A very dark blue bikini

Hadley: Pink shorts

Taila Sway: A Soft Green bikini

Epsilon: Just his green shorts

Liv: a black bikini

Blake: Black Shorts

Rubika: A Black & Lime Green bikini)

Here we see the Danceverse Crew's house, where we see the Danceverse Crew doing their usual things. Wanderlust practicing his dimension jumping powers, Sara petting Discoball, Brezziana making a video for her millions of fans, Mihaly meditating, Jack practing his moves, Dolores trying to come up with a plan to stop Night Swan, which is hard to do when you have Hadley being vein, and checking himself in the mirror. Taila polishing her Neverending cache of weapons, Epsilon researching some top tier security for the house, Liv baking her signature Spooky Cookies, and Blake listening to hard rock. All and all, an normal day for the Danceverse Crew. That is they've saw somebody burst through the door.

"YO! YO! YO! YO!" They've heard a familiar voice come through the door, they've turned around and saw Rubika standing there.

"Rubika!" They've all yelled "What brings you here?" Wanderlust asked

"Well, ya see. I'm working at the beach, and they're having a deal that family and close friends of coworkers get in for free. And, since Rosaria and Eteria don't wanna go, I thought about inviting you guys." She answered.

"Yeah, why wouldn't we?" Sara said

"Uh, guys." Blake started to say "Should we really consider Rubika a friend?" He asked

"I know, Blake. She stole our ship one time." Wanderlust said "But, she has helped us out on many of our adventures. Why wouldn't we consider her a friend?"

"So what y'all say? Y'all willing to go?" Rubika asked

"YEAH!" The crew answered

"Oh, yeah one more thing. Weapons are prohibited on the beach. So, you guys are gonna have to leave them here." Rubika said. And, all of them (Except for Wanderlust & Mihaly) dropped their weapons, which for Taila, took about 3 minutes. She took the guns out of both of her pockets. And, took the knifes and switchblades out of both her shoes.

"How do you walk around all day?" Jack asked her.

"No matter, Jack. Let's get our beach outfits on and head out!" Wanderlust said as they got their beach outfits on and headed out.

2 hours later

They arrived at the beach, and got everything set down. And, everyone else went into the water.

Wanderlust was manipulating the water and Sara accidently got caught in it. Wanderlust stopped as Sara fell in the water. "Sorry!" Wanderlust apologized "It's okay!" Sara replied.

Jack and Hadley were both surfing, competing to see who can get the closest. "You should never try a musician! They always have secret talents!" Jack taunted Hadley. "Yeah? So do people who've surfed for 13 years! Gehehehe!!" Hadley taunted back.

Dolores was building sandcastles with Taila and Epsilon. "Hey, you guys done yet?" Dolores asked them. "Yeah, almost." Taila replied. "Done!" Taila said, as Dolores looked up, she was in shock with how massive their sandcastle is. "I said sandcastle!" Dolores shouted. "Is this not a castle?" Epsilon asked. "No! That's a palace!" Dolores replied loudly

Liv was playing in the water, while Blake was just laying in the water. Liv was grabbing his arm, trying to pull him up. "Come on, Blake! Get up and enjoy the water!" Liv said. "No! Let the waters claim me!" Blake replied

All and all, everyone was having fun. Except for Mihaly, who was just sitting there, looking up at the sunset. Brezziana noticed this and sat down beside them.

"Is something wrong?" Brezziana asked them

"It's nothing." Mihaly said "I was just thinking back."

"Thinking back to what?"

"Thinking back to when I didn't worry about hurting the people I love." Brezziana sat there and listened to them "Back when Midnight Owl wasn't apart of me, back when we didn't hurt eachother." They then started to tear up "Back when....Back when I didn't have to worry about any of that happening." They've said. As, Brezziana hugged them

"It's okay, Mi. Those situations were far beyond your control. I wish I didn't have to hurt you either, but, you were Brainwashed. I didn't have a choice. But, understand this." She moved closer to them "I love you. You are an amazing person. I couldn't asked for somebody with as kind of an heart as you. I'm glad to be here with you, and not that other faker that you got." She told them.

They've both shared a passionate kiss as the sunset glares behind them.

"You wanna just sit here and admire the scenery?" Mihaly asked

"I wouldn't love nothing more." Brezziana answered.

They both sat there with Mihaly laying their head on Brezziana's shoulder, just staring at the sunset

"I'm glad to have a girlfriend as amazing as you." They've said

Brezziana smiled at that compliment and said

"I feel the same"