#she gets very numb at the end so idk

[kiddokori]

doctor office workers love me for my polite tones and sense of whimsy

[grimandghoulish]

.

[fettery-fetterie]

Post cancelled it was #tw bad

Except this:

Tostito: *head in hands* oh my fucking god

[dollgxtz]

Ok a fic where reader and sylus are at a business meeting, she “offers” herself as payment (maybe as a joke or just to rile sylus idk) and he makes sure to remind her who she belongs to? Please???

Kindred Spirits

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, possessiveness, ownership, spanking, hitting, slight blood mention, pet names like kitten & sweetie, creampie, rough sex, crying, slight fluff at the end :3

AN: Anon ur a literal genius. This has Sylus written all over it. Im so happy to be back posting another story for you all! Also happy to announce my masterlist is now complete and can be found in my pinned! Ty all! Enjoy and remember, my asks are open for any character, Sylus is just my husband LOL. Remember to read my pinned before requesting please! This is a bit tamer than my other stories but trust I am cooking up some deviant content as soon as I publish this one :33

“Finally…”

You nearly collapse near your front door. A whole week of your life. Gone. To what you ask? Dealing with wanderers on a special aid mission. Sure sure, the job paid well but it had been weeks since your last off day. Every time it seemed like one was around the corner here they go with some emergency call and a spill about how some rich politician needed help or something.

You were starting to get tired of cleaning up other people’s mistakes.

You fumbled with your keys, fingers numb from the biting cold. The wind whipped around you, making you shiver as you tried to fit the right key into the lock. Your breath came out in visible puffs, and you could feel the frustration building with each failed attempt. Finally, with a relieved sigh, you heard the click of the lock turning.

The still warm air is such a welcoming contrast to the wind and biting cold outside. You quickly shut your door and melt to the floor, your feet aching with relief as the pressure you had been putting on them subsided. Peace at last. Time for a hot shower an-

Your peace was cut short with the distinct tone of your phone ringing. And not just any ring tone. The one you had set specifically for a certain white haired man that only ever brought trouble. Wondering if you should even pick up, you bring the phone to your face, knowing that you were going to answer regardless.

“Sylus…I’m really tired. Can we talk lat-"

“Long time no see kitten. You should stop by for a bit, hm?”

You roll your eyes, suppressing the urge to scoff out loud. Arrogant prick, you think, irritated by his inability to let you finish a sentence without interrupting. How did he even know you were home now?

You sigh deeply, feeling the tension building, and rub your temples to alleviate the mounting frustration. No, you tell yourself firmly. You wouldn’t put up with this today. Maybe another day, but definitely not today.

"Actually, no. I just returned from a week-long aid mission. Not today," you say firmly, aiming to be clear and resolute in your decision to stay put. Sylus however, seems to sense the cracks in your resolve and only responds with a chuckle.

“I want to see you. I’ll have Luke and Kieran come get you since you’re so tired”.

“Hu-”

“See you soon. They’re en route. Ciao”

The phone clicks, signaling the end of the call. For whatever reason, your ever growing frustration simply dissipates, defeat taking its place. You should be used to this by now. Sylus always gets what he wants. And you always let him. It goes without saying that it’s the same way for you as well. At least, Sylus always gives you what you want if it doesn’t interfere with his need to lay his eyes on you at least once in awhile. He knew that you wouldn’t push this though. You both knew.

Deep down, you wanted to see him too.

You asked Luke and Kieran to wait outside for a bit while you took a brisk shower and freshened up. Those two had always been very patient and understanding. You felt bad “bossing” them around, and yet they always insisted that you could. Though Luke had admitted on one occasion that he never expected to be helping a girl find hair ties or carrying shopping bags while working for Onychinus.

The statement had made you laugh a bit. You finally finish dressing in some plain sweats and rush to the car. Luke and Kieran are waiting outside of a dark colored jeep. Not too flashy as to not draw attention, but it was still clearly very expensive.

“Actually miss, Boss wanted you to wear these” Luke says, holding out an expensive looking dress. Clearly designed by hand and tailored to your measurements. Kieran follows his lead, holding out a box containing a pair of earrings and a lavish looking necklace.

“Huh? What’s this for? A date?”

“Business. That’s all he said” Kieran chimed in. Although you couldn’t see their faces, you knew they had no reason to lie to you about this.

“Ah. Dragging me into more trouble. Got it”.

When the three of you finally arrived to the location, the sun had already set for the day. You darted your eyes back and forth, squinting above at the bright neon sign of the establishment.

“We’re not going to the N109 Zone? This is a nightclub…” you mutter, taken aback by the unfamiliar surroundings. When did this even get here? There were plenty of clubs in Linkon of course, but you never seemed to notice this one. Not that you knew much about the night life to begin with. People were lined up at the entrance, chatting, fixing makeup, or texting.

“Boss wants you here. He’s waiting inside. Enjoy your time miss” Luke said, amusement written all over his tone. He gets out of the passenger seat to open the door and lend you a hand. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to appear shaken up by the situation. Sylus was always full of surprises. This was no different, act confident.

At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. After getting almost immediate entrance into the club with just a simple nod from the guard, you enter. As you walk inside the club, Luke and Kieran not far behind you, you can tell this was no ordinary night club. Everyone here was dressed lavishly and sharp, clearly possessing power and ulterior motives. A few eyes lay on you as you walk in, and you feel your hands start to sweat.

Keep cool. This isn’t the first time you’ve been around high ranking individuals. This is probably some test he set up…right? Or some kind of joke to get a laugh?

Clenching your fists, your eyes dart and search for a tall figure with white hair, feeling more nervous by the second that you don’t see him. You’re about to turn around and ask one of the twins, but at last your gaze settles on him, sipping on a glass of Gin Fizz. He’s sitting in a velvety booth by himself, people watching. He’s wearing his black button up with red streaks across it, coat hanging on his shoulders per usual. As if he felt you staring, his eyes shift to meet yours. He sets down his glass, giving you you a small smirk. His eyes narrow, sending a very clear message.

Come here.

As if you were suddenly possessed, your feet seem to start moving on their own. You weren’t sure if you were relieved to see him or if it was just the relief of seeing a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. You take a few deep breaths as you approach, readying your witful replies to any of his attempts to make fun of you. Without making any sound or looking at him, you quietly slide in next to him.

“You look nice. Seems I was right about this look on you” Sylus says, taking another sip of his drink. His eyes wander up and down behind the glass, seemingly devouring you. You squirm under his gaze.

“Hm. Thanks. This gift is the least you can do after dragging me to do whatever you want on a whim once again” you scoff, eyeing the full glass that sits on the table. It’s another glass of Gin Fizz, probably for Sylus. There’s three other very empty glasses on the table.

This man can definitely hold his alcohol.

He chuckles, taking a finger and pushing the glass of Gin closer to you.

“Don’t be like that sweetie. Loosen up a bit, you’ll need it”

“For what exactly? Business?” you mock, picking up the Gin. You didn’t exactly like the taste of this particular alcohol of choice but Sylus was right about one thing. Some liquid courage was definitely needed for whatever shenanigans he was dragging you into tonight.

“Yeah. Figured I could use Linkon’s darling Miss Hunter as backup” Sylus chuckles, watching you nearly choke as you take three big gulps of the drink. You squeeze your eyes in disgust as you finish the rest of the glass, shooting a death glare in his direction as you set it down.

“You’re perfectly capable. Don’t mock me Sylus”. You grit your teeth in irritation, almost ready to rip him to shreds with your words. Clearly your tone has no effect on him though, as all you get in return is a soft smile. Sylus places a hand on your upper leg, slowing sliding his fingers under your dress. You gasp, the coldness of his fingers making you twitch a bit. The warmness of your skin mixed with his cold touch makes the sensation feel like icy fire.

“Or what? You’ll use this on me?” he smirks, tugging on the concealed gun strapped under your dress. “I’m all for it honestly”

You slap his hand away, the woozy feeling from the Gin Fizz starting to kick in. What was in this drink? It was strong. Too strong.

“Pervert. Always touching me, making fun of me. Maybe I will shoot you. Again.” you growl, turning your head away from him. You attempt to scoot away as well, but are met with a strong grip around your waist as you’re pulled into closer proximity with him. Sylus grabs your chin and lifts it towards his face. He leans down a bit, the smell of alcohol and his bourbon vanilla cologne making you feel even more dizzy.

“You can put your claws away now kitten. Don’t make me have to melt your little tantrum away” he coos, gently caressing your face with his thumb.

You stare at him, dumbfounded, desperately searching your sluggish brain for a comeback but finding yourself too flustered to form any words. The look in Sylus’s eyes shifts from a smug expression to a much softer, almost tender gaze, and you wonder what his next move will be. Your face starts to burn as you feel heat rising in your core, your heart pounding in your chest. Panic sets in as you consider the possibilities, your mind racing with the fear of what might come next.

Don’t tell me he’s going to…?!

"You're so...confusing" you mutter.

You’re just about to try and squirm from his grip, when Luke and Kieran tap on the table, catching yalls attention.

“Boss man, Val says he’s ready for ya” Luke says, nonchalantly ignoring the scene that’s displayed in front of him. Sylus releases your face, his face going serious again. He gets up, reaching out a hand to help you out of the booth.

“Time for business, sweetie��

You’re guided by the twins and Sylus past the sweaty bodies on the dance floor to a somewhat hidden room located downstairs. The area the stairs led to was blocked off by a singular rope, clearly only meant for a select crowd.

In the room there’s a long black table, cards and chips all over it. There’s a few prominent figures already seated, along with a few bodyguards standing near the door. Sylus pulls a seat out for you, before taking his own. You study the figure that’s sitting at the head of the table as you sit. He’s short, a bit chubby, dark hair, smoking a cigar. A scar sits angrily on his forehead and you wonder what kinda grudges led to such an injury. He notices you looking at him, and gives you a devilish grin. Some of his teeth are crooked or missing.

All that money and he can't fix his smile?

You shudder. Sylus looks over at you, and back to the man at the head of the table. He’s reading you, clearly sensing your nervousness. He says nothing, simply reaching a hand over to rest on your thigh.

“Was starting to think you were going to keep me waiting Sylus. Seems you didn’t run after all” he laughs, wheezing a bit as he takes another puff of his cigar. You wrinkle your nose a bit as the potent smell hits your senses.

“I couldn’t turn down a game of cards with my dear old friend” Sylus says, irritation coating the last word. “Let’s keep things civil this time, hm Valentino?”

Valentino bursts into laughter, clearly amused. Despite his laughter, you couldn’t ignore the murderous tension in the air. Something tells you this isn’t any regular game of cards. You gulp, trying to force yourself to look at everyone at the table and smile.

“Well hello little lady. Sylus, you didn’t tell me you kept such gorgeous company…” Val says, his eyes snaking all over your body. You feel Sylus squeeze your thigh, clearly irritated. He pulls out a coin from his coat pocket, seemingly trying to channel his frustrations into something else.

“You know I’m not really the type to share, Val. She’s all mine. Down to every single strand of hair”. Sylus ends, catching the coin and shooting a glare in the man’s direction. It was plain, but conveyed a message very well.

You feel your palms start to sweat. Was he being serious right now?? You side eye him, trying to piece out whether or not this was some kind of facade you’re supposed to play into. Valentino clearly takes Sylus’s words as a challenge.

“I’ll give you twenty million for her. Maybe fifty million if you make her give us a little strip show. What do ya say? She looks so soft. Probably makes cute noises too…~” he chuckles, likely enjoying the look of surprise that washes across your face.

Sylus remains quiet, his face unmoving, frozen in a pissed glare. You don’t know if it was the alcohol you drank earlier, or if it was some inkling of an attempt to dissipate the tension, but you clear your throat and begin to speak.

“Well Sylus? You can share can’t you? It’s quite the generous offer Mr. Valentino. I’m quite flattered actually.” you express, putting on your best smug look. Sylus stiffens, a somewhat shocked expression washing over him. Valentino erupts into yet another fit of laughter, seemingly unable to contain himself. Turning to look back at Sylus, you see it in his face briefly. An uncaged look of rage before it quickly dissipates.

Shit. Shouldn’t have said that.

Far too late to stop now though.

“You heard the lady Sylus. Why don’t you try sharing just this once? What I would give to taste that sweet little body of he-”

Sylus slams a revolver on the table, then calmly starts picking up cards from the deck.

"I'd suggest you stop talking and start playing the game, Mr. Valentino," Sylus snarls, his words dripping with venom. The fury in his voice is palpable, and it's clear he's reached the end of his patience.

You give Val a sly look, feigning pity. “Ah, sorry Valentino. Seems this one can’t quite let me go yet”. You don’t know what you were trying to achieve, but it’s certainly not working to dissipate any tension. Val doesn’t respond to you though, all his focus on Sylus now.

“My dear friend. You should know me by now. There’s something I’m much more interested in now than some money. Now I want the girl, or nothing”.

Valentino wears a shit eating grin on his face, soaking in the fact that he thinks he’s gained some control of the situation, unaffected by the gun on the table. Sylus simply sighs, rubbing his fingers against the temple of his forehead.

“I see where this is going then”.

You barely process what’s happening before everything and everyone starts moving. As soon as Sylus begins to stand, Valentinos guards start shooting. Sylus wastes no time flipping the large table, sending the cards and game chips flying everywhere. You yelp as he yanks you towards him using his body and the table to shield the oncoming attack of bullets. You hear Luke and Kieran joining in the frenzy, yelling obscenities as they begin shooting their own hidden weapons.

You swiftly reach for the weapon concealed beneath your dress, your fingers brushing against the cool metal as you draw it out. Turning to face Sylus, you ready yourself for his instructions, your body tense with anticipation. Instead of giving you orders, he locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing through you with an intensity that feels like it's reaching into your very soul. The silence is heavy, charged with unspoken tension as bullets whip past the both of you, and you can feel your heartbeat quicken in response.

“I need you alive for what’s coming sweetie. Pay attention, stay close”

You blink. Twice. Unable to process his words before he yanks you both up, one hand using his evol to send the table crashing into several bodyguards. The four of you fight your way through the onslaught of people coming into the door, before eventually dashing up the stairs. People are running in all directions, seemingly caught up in the chaos of everything. You all manage to make it out the door and into the brisk cold air, the twins quickly hopping into the car to whisk you away.

“Go on, I’ll catch up soon” Sylus states, hurriedly pushing you into the car and slamming the door before you could protest. He signals Kieran to drive off, and that he does.

“He’s…going to level the building. Isn’t he?” you sigh, sighing at the fact that Sylus seemed to conveniently forget that this was in fact not the lawless land of the N109 Zone. No doubt the Hunter’s Association would have to investigate for potential wanderer activity, and that would be a lot of paperwork.

"It's fine. He owned that place anyway. He'll just build another," Luke says, his voice calm and unbothered. Just as the words leave his mouth, a deafening boom erupts behind the car, shaking the ground beneath yall. The explosion's shockwave rattles the windows, and the sky lights up with a fiery glow, cutting off Luke's next sentence mid-breath.

You groan.

The twins did drive you to the N109 this time, swiftly helping you out the car and into Sylus’s private villa. When you entered the front door, a nightgown and lacy underwear were laid neatly out for you in his room, your arrival clearly anticipated.

It wasn’t more than an hour before Sylus waltzed in the front door, eyeing your slouching figure on the couch. You sit up as soon as you see him, still somewhat annoyed.

“What took you so damn long? Also do you have to level every building you come across?” you spat, glaring at him. He says nothing though, walking straight past you and into his room.

“Huh? Sylus?? What the hell…”

Not liking the feeling of being ignored, you hurriedly chased after him. You had never really been uncomfortable barging into his room. You had done it plenty of times at this point, the first time being when he had challenged you to steal the brooch from him. No point in being shy now. He’s fumbling with something in his drawer when you reach up to tap his shoulder.

“Sylus! Don’t ignore me, I know you ca-”

He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist before you can touch him. His gaze is unreadable, cold even. You start to sweat, trying to take your arm back. But he only squeezes tighter.

"I was hoping you'd leave me be so I could calm down. But of course you're as petulant as ever" he says.

"Let go! What's wrong with you!?" You attempt to remove his hand from your wrist but he doesn't budge.

“Go to the bed. Place your hands on it” he says, face unchanging.

“Huh??”

“I don’t like to repeat myself”.

You freeze for only a moment before quickly moving to the bed. You meticulously put your hands where instructed, something deep in your core telling you that it’s likely best to listen for now. However, you can’t help to look over your should to quip at Sylus. You’re slightly bent at an angle, trying your best to keep your balance.

“What’s this about? I’m not that upset that you reduced the building to rubble”

Sylus snakes his way behind you, quietly, as if thinking of what to say. He reaches out a hand, grabbing the ends of your nightgown and moving the soft fabric around in his fingers. You feel the heat rise to your face, the skin of your ass feeling a slight gush of cold air.

“You like playing games with me, don’t you? Testing me” he says coldly, fingers trailing up the back of your legs slowly. You shiver, attempting to squirm away. His evol appears around you, its tight grip making you cry out.

Oh. This was about that.

“Huh?? No, I was just playing along. Just friendly banter yknow?” you say, voice wavering. You’ve clearly pissed him off. A part of you knows it’s a slight lie. You didn’t want to admit it out loud but it was kind of amusing to see Sylus get so riled up over something. Over you especially. But you hadn’t exactly done it fully on purpose. It was the alcohol.

But you knew he wasn’t buying it, as observant as he was.

“Sure. You were just pretending to act like a stray kitten trying to find a new owner?” he smirks, his fingers beginning to trace circles over the cloth of your panties. You let out a small whine, his touch just barely grazing your already wet cunt.

“Owner? I don’t belong to you. Or anyone” you scoff, the resolve in your voice wavering with every little circle he completes on your skin. You almost whine in disappointment when he pulls away.

“And yet…” Sylus trails off, leaving you with aching curiosity before you’re met with stinging pain on your ass. You cry out, unable to move with his evol still snaked around you. “You did exactly what I told you to do just now, wear the clothes I leave out for you, and practically melt everytime I even barely touch you”.

“Sylus?! What the hell was that…?!” you exclaim, trying your hardest to process his words and the situation at hand. He doesn’t respond, proceeding to gently caress the spot where he smacked you. The stinging pain gently eases away, and you feel yourself relaxing with his touch once again. He once again trails his fingers down to your clothed pussy, rubbing slow and meticulous circles around it. You start to whine, attempting to push yourself into his fingers for more friction. He pulls his hand away, making a disapproving sigh.

“Acting like you’re in heat per usual” he chuckles, watching as you wiggle around under the grip of his evol. “This is a punishment”.

“For what? Cause I let some sick and ugly looking crime boss think he had a chance with me?”

Sylus wastes no time bringing his hand to your ass again, earning another painful whine out of you. You feel tears forming in your eyes that you can’t wipe away. He’s certainly not holding back his strength, and yet you know this isn’t even a third of the force he could use on you.

“For entertaining him” he says plainly.

Another smack.

“Another for stupidly handing over your life, body and soul for a measly twenty million”

An even harder hit, this one fueled by rage.

“And lastly…”

You nearly choke as he delivers the final blow, your ass definitely bruising by now. Sylus offers no comfort this time, instead leaning down next to your crying face, breath hot against your ear.

“For forgetting that you belong to me, just as much as I belong to you. Kindred spirits remember?”

You have no chance to respond before he’s flipping you on your back, your nightgown flying up to reveal your wet panties.

“I-im sorry, Sy” you choke, tears blurring your vision.

“Show me then, sweetie. Spread your legs. Wide” he instructs, reaching up to brush your tears away. This isn’t done lovingly, more like calculated and cold.

This is far from over.

You silently but shakingly open your legs, your ass still painfully aching from his assault. You’re surprised when he doesn’t rip your underwear in two, choosing to rather peel them off your legs slowly. You notice the hunger in his eyes as he does so, as if savoring the view of your cunt at his fingertips. A small drop of arousal pools down your ass, and Sylus scoops it up with one finger.

You watch as he puts his finger in his mouth, savoring the drop of you with swiftness. His piercing gaze never leaves yours though, and you want to suddenly run away and hide. This is beyond thrilling, but you try your best to remain as still as possible, scared that he’ll think you’re enjoying it too much and punish you accordingly.

You suddenly can’t take the tension anymore, and close your eyes. You hear the sound of Sylus removing his belt from its loops, then the loud clang as it hits the floor. You feel the bed shift as he lowers himself over you, his face stopping just inches over yours, indicated by the sudden feel and warmth of his breath. He grabs your face in his hand and squeezes your jaw. Hard.

“Look at me kitten” he commands, his tone filled with unkempt rage and anger. Your eyes fly open, terrified.

“I’m the only one that will ever taste you. Repeat it” he says. Before you can get a word out, he’s pushing the fat tip of his cock in your entrance. You cry out in agony, nowhere near ready to have been penetrated. But he doesn’t stop filling you.

“Repeat it. Or I’ll hit you again. Do you want that?”

“You’re t-the…ah!” you whine, his cock halfway inside you at this point. Your poor cunt feels like it’s being impaled, splitting pain soaring through your core.

“Try again”

You let out a whimper, trying your best to push through the pain and put thoughts into words.

“You’re the oh-only one that gets to taste me” you choke out, voice wavering and your eyes teary. Sylus gives a hard thrust, pushing the rest of his length inside you. You cry out again, feeling like you’re on the verge of passing out. Sylus seems unmoved by your outbursts though.

“And?”

You stare at him, barely able to see his face through the tears. What? What does he mean and? He didn’t say anything else did he?

“Hu-what?”

You hear him sigh with disapproval, giving you yet another hard thrust. And another. And another. You’re clinging onto his back now, nails digging into his skin as the sound of the bed creaking and your pants fill the room. Blood has probably been drawn on his back, not that he’d even notice. You can hear him grunting in your ear, clearly enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him when you tense from the pain. Although it still hurts, you can feel yourself accumulating to the shape and size of his length, and the pain lessons a bit more with each thrust. He stops once again, tilting your face in his grip.

“What did I say you forgot? Or is this kitten filled with too much cock to think straight now?” he mocks. You can hear the smile on his face despite not being able to see him clearly. Heat creeps up on your cheeks as you wrack your brain for answers.

“I-you…we’re kindred spirits?”

“Before that sweetie”

You blink the tears on your face away, your vision becoming a bit more clear. Although he’s still gazing down at you, his expression is not as angry as before. Seems he’s gotten a bit of his pent up anger out now.

“I belong to you, Sylus” you say, voice small and whiny from crying. That’s definitely what he wanted to hear, as he began to pepper kisses on your neck, on your cheek, and eventually resting on your lips. You greedily return his affection, leaning into this feverish kiss, the both of you only periodically stopping to pant for air between kisses. He stops, resting his forehead with yours, gazing into your eyes once more.

“And I belong to you. What’s mine is yours. All of it”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s thrusting again, this time with a continuous and steady pace. You cling onto him, the exchange of flowery words and rigorous thrusting already bringing you on the verge of ecstasy. Sylus already noticed long before you did though, as he brought his hand between the two of you, circling your clit further your stimulation.

“Go ahead, come undone for me” he whispers, voice strained for nearly being at his end too. Your body obeys, unraveling and writhing with pleasure as Sylus continues to pound into you. You ride your orgasm to its end, till the touching of your clit becomes too much and you whine from overstimulation.

“Sylus…!” you moan, and he stops, already at the start of his own climax. You shudder as you feel him spill into you, his seed immediately beginning to pool down your cunt and to your ass. He pulls his heavy cock out of you, a feeling of emptiness taking its place. For a moment nothing is said, just the sound of the both of you catching your breath.

You decide to break the silence.

“Sylus…I’m really sorry” you start, looking up at him. He simply chuckles, placing a kiss on your cheek before getting up to grab a rag from the bathroom.

“You’ve taken your punishment quite well, why are you apologizing again sweetie?” he says from the bathroom, coming back to wipe you clean. You scoff, slightly tensing from the coldness of the cloth.

“Hmph. Fine, I take it back then. I’m holding a grudge anyways for how hard you hit me”

He simply sighs as he finishes wiping you up. “Back with the infamous wit already? Can’t a man catch a break?”

You sit up, feeling emboldened once more.

“Nope. Maybe don’t hit me with the strength of a thousand suns next time and we’ll see”

Sylus tosses the rag in a laundry basket, making his way back to your side. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you in his warmth. You can’t help but smile against his chest.

“Well, good thing I have all night to make it up to you”

You lightly pinch his side, giggling into his embrace. A question crosses your mind.

"Did you mean it Sylus? We belong to each other?"

Sylus took your face in his hand, giving you a slight smile.

"I don't say stuff I don't mean. You know this"

That's the furthest he was willing to explain it. At least for now. Who knows what kind of power trip would ensue if you truly knew how much you had the big bad leader of Onychinus wrapped around your finger.

[scififettuccine]

Homelander x SupeTeen!Reader

Idk ya'll Homie has really been getting on my nerves recently. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going with this one at first, but I LOVE the way it turned out. It was a doozy but it was SO FUN to write! This isn’t proof read just yet so please don’t yell at me💀

Summary: You meet your biological father for the first time at Vought Tower after your adoptive mother's unexpected passing...he's not exactly what you expected.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Homelander (Obviously), death of a parental figure, mentions of death, manipulation tactics, awkward parental conversations???

Being a Supe had never been easy for you, though, luckily you had never been forced to live in a lab. Soon after you were born, one of the Vought scientists had taken you in as her own, -due to the fact that your biological mother had died during childbirth- directly going against Vought's policies. She was found out eventually, to no one's surprise...but this breach in policy gave headway to a new experiment. So, she was allowed to keep you and raise you as her own. You were raised as any other child would be, but you were treated with extra caution...and being the only Supe in school wasn't exactly a cake walk. But the worst thing you had experienced was a little bullying, but your doting, caring, adoptive mother put an end to that rather quickly by talking with the school board. The first 15 years of your life were...tolerable, if not ideal. It was supposed to stay that way...until your mother was found dead at her place of work.

It had only been two weeks since your mother died. In those two weeks, you had been relocated and told, verbatim, that your father was one of the most iconic Supes in the world...Homelander. Now? You were sitting in The Seven's meeting room at Vought Tower, anxiously toying with the handle of the swivel chair you were sitting in. Part of you was still just...numb. Everything you had ever known had been ripped away from you seemingly overnight. Any other child would be over the moon...but you? You were just...detached. You were pulled out of the endless depths of your own thoughts when a voice echoed off the walls of the room.

"Hey there, kiddo!"

You looked up from your anxious fiddling, and were met with the blindingly white smile of your biological father. You did your best to give a convincing smile back, sitting up a bit straighter in your seat. His presence wasn't exactly the most comforting. He tilted his head to the side a bit when you didn't respond.

"You're Y/N...Right? Hopefully we didn't get the wrong kid...that would be awkward, wouldn't it?" Homelander asked with a laugh. He sort of stopped in the center of the room, looking you up and down, like he was trying to evaluate you...to decide your worth. You nod sheepishly.

"Yeah...yeah. That's me." It honestly didn't help that you were the age that you were...it made it more awkward somehow. Homelander didn't say anything for a moment, almost like he was waiting for you to say something else. When you didn't, he sort of chuckled.

"You're not very talkative, are you?" He asked. You had opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off. "I guess that's understandable. Meeting your old man for the first time is no small feat..." He paused for a moment as he evaluated your expression. "I'm sorry to hear about your mom...tough stuff there, kiddo." You took a breath when he mentioned your mother. It was all so fresh...and there were so many things you had recently learned that she had never told you. You didn't even know she wasn't your biological mother until after she died.

"Mmm...Don't be sorry...not your fault."

Oh, the unknown irony of that statement.

Homelander let out a small scoff and frowned. Admittedly, the frown looked incredibly fake...almost like he was mocking you.

"Still...I can't imagine what you must be feeling. I mean, to find out that she was keeping so much from you...after she died...? That must pack an even worse punch." You sort of stiffened in your seat. You weren't exactly stupid...you could read his tone. He was hiding his insults towards your mother with a cruel, mock sympathy.

"She only did it to protect me...I know she did. She wasn't a bad mom, she was amazing, actually." You respond, almost matter-of-factly, your eyes glowing red ever so slightly. "I know raising a Supe couldn't have been easy for her...she had her reasons." It was incredibly hard to talk about your mother in any way, considering she had only died two weeks ago. Homelander sensed your tone, and put his hands up as he noticed the flicker of light in your eyes. It suddenly became clear to him that you couldn't control your powers, which almost made him smirk.

"Hey now, of course she was...Absolutely no hard feelings towards your mom...But I know I would have never kept things from you like that. And registering you at a public school, knowing you're a Supe? That's just...cruel." You were going to continue defending your mother...until he mentioned school. That was something you couldn't exactly convince yourself was a great move on your mom's part.

"School was...a different story. It was rough." You said, pulling your legs up onto the swivel chair so you could hold your knees to your chest. Homelander nodded as he took a few steps closer to you, his hands now at rest behind his back.

"So I've heard...I spoke to your therapist." That comment turned your stomach a bit. Wasn't everything you spoke about with your therapist supposed to be confidential? Homelander noticed the slight change in your expression. "Don't worry, Y/N...I didn't dig into any of the gritty teenager things..." He chuckled, "I was just curious to learn about your school situation. You're a sophomore now, right?"

"Yeah...I will be. In the fall." You said quietly. Homelander smiled, where he now stood beside your chair at the point of the uniquely shaped table.

"Well that's fun, isn't it?" He asked as he pulled out one of the other swivel chairs and pulled it towards him. "One more year and then you're one of the big dogs." You nodded, watching his movements as he sat down, facing you. Everything about him just seemed so...strange. Even the way he moved. It looked almost calculated...and was mildly unsettling.

"I guess..." You said quietly. You sighed as you rested your chin on your knees, grabbing onto the table to reluctantly turn your chair to face his...it was only polite.

"You don't seem too thrilled..." He started, his blue eyes meeting the identical set that you possessed, "Was school really that bad?" That was more of a rhetorical question on his part, he knew everything about you.

"The teasing sucks...They call me 'Laser Eyes'..." Homelander stifled a laugh when you said that, to which you narrowed your eyes.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry!" He said with a chuckle, "That is the stupidest insult I've ever heard!" Homelander took a moment to stop laughing before he looked back to you. "Look. I'm not laughing at you, kiddo. I would never. But Laser Eyes...? Really? They couldn't come up with anything more original? I mean...Even I'd be hesitant to insult you considering you could just laser them in half." He said. His smile was almost manic looking.

"What?" You asked, almost dumbfounded. "I would never...I could never." You said. You pulled your chin off your knees, your eyes still narrowed.

"Why couldn't you? You're a Supe...aren't you? I mean...mommy swooping in and bribing administration to take disciplinary action against those little shit stains isn't exactly making you out to be the strongest person..." You almost immediately sat up correctly in your chair.

"She bribed the administration...?" You ask softly. Homelander gave a mock frown as he noticed your eyes become glossy.

"You didn't know? Gosh...How much was she keeping from you?" You swallowed as he spoke and tried your best not to cry. The last person you wanted to look pathetic in front of was Homelander...Especially considering his earlier comment about it not being a good look that your mom always had to swoop in and save you. "Awe..." He started, scooting his chair closer to yours. "Don't cry kiddo...It's not your fault that you're so lost...It's hers." Your eyes met his once again, a tear slipping down your cheek, which you quickly reached up to wipe away.

"Lost?" You ask. Homelander nodded.

"Well, most Supes your age, with your abilities usually already have a professional presence...Or at least know how to use their powers correctly." He said, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. "I mean, had I raised you? Had you not been wrongfully stolen from me after you were born? You'd already have a place in the Supe community, followers...maybe even a contract with Vought. You wouldn't just be floating in your own little bubble...You'd have a group. A family." Something in you broke when he spoke. Your mother had stolen you from your biological father? And had he raised you, you wouldn't be so...you? So lonely and misplaced? You couldn't help the tears that slid down your cheeks. It was as if your entire life had been flipped upsidedown.

"She...S-she really kept all that from me?" You asked. Homelander tutted softly, almost pitying you. He stood up and held out his arms.

"Come here, kiddo..." He said softly, with a tone of empty sympathy. You almost immediately stood up and buried your head in his chest. At this point....What else did you have? Who else did you have? He chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around you, his hug firm, considering he was so much larger than you...yet comforting, despite the strange material of his suit.

'It's alright, Y/N...You're right where you need to be. We'll get you up and running with those powers of yours in no time..." He said softly, resting his chin on top of your blonde hair. He caught the reflection of the two of you in the large window that lit the room and his grip tightened, almost possessively. "You're not alone anymore...got it? You've got your dad to keep you company..." You nodded against his chest, sniffling.

"Got it." You responded softly, hugging him a bit tighter. Maybe this wasn't so bad. Maybe Homelander, no, your father was what was best for you. How could you have been living in the dark for so long without realizing it...? You were truly lost. But everything was okay now. You were finally safe, in your fathers embrace.

Homelander smiled wickedly at his own reflection in the window before he rested his cheek on your head. Finally...he had you. His own child that he had been trying to get his bloody hands on for years...Losing another Vought scientist was a necessary sacrifice in the bigger picture of his perfect narrative...and it all started right here. With you. His child. He smiled as he pulled away from the hug, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders.

"How does a milkshake sound, huh? I know Planet Vought has a double chocolate one that's yummers." You smiled and nodded as he moved his thumb to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"I love chocolate." You said with a small laugh. Homelander chuckled as he turned you towards the door of the meeting room and started walking, his firm hand on your shoulder urging you forward.

"I know."

————————————————————————

I hope ya’ll enjoyed! I left it open for more parts so totally let me know if you’d be interested in reading more. Writing for Homes is always a questionable adventure 💀 Until next time, Adieu!

[chibelial]

.

[witches-dream]

The reason it feels like Spice snapped for no reason "other than bored" is cuz we weren't shown or told what led up to it. In Mystic Flour's story, Cloud Haetae tells us what she used to be like, then Mystic Flour herself tells us what got her to snap. And she told you that cuz she wants you to feel the futility and helplessness that she felt and she wants you to give up and agree with her and idk kill yourself. Burning Spice on the other hand? He won't tell you cuz he doesn't fuckin care anymore. Nutmeg Tiger or any of the other spices won't tell you cuz they either don't know or would be too scared to talk about it anyway. We do get to see it only through little details and hints, like his character description: "He was hailed as a hero, a leader who fought battle after battle to protect the faint light of civilization shining amidst the gloom", his quote: "Why, I, too, once had things I held dear", and his interaction with Nutmeg Tiger: "This place reminds me of the first kingdom I..." When combined, they paint a very clear picture of somebody who was desperate to protect and cling on, only to fail again and again, until he became numb to it, which eventually lead to boredom, and then destruction as the only thing that excited him.

So like. The beasts, those villains each have very different stories and motivations and we can't expect all of them to just spell their motivations out for us like Mystic did. And I'm fully prepared for people to say that Shmilk became evil for shits and giggles or that Silent Salt is just a dick for the sake of being a dick, but at the end of the day, there will always be something to think about and something to analyze.

[notaboypossiblyagenius]

And when I call, you come home — E. Prentiss

warnings: depictions of blood, r has a pretty bad injury (a gunshot), angst, so much angst, no use of yn, technically no death, i’ve never seen snow, idk how it works so this is probably inaccurate, that’s not my problem tho. no happy ending, but whatever happens after the ending is up to you not me mwuahaha

wc: ~1,400

a/n: thank you to the sweetest ever @emilys-bangs for proofreading, shes getting many forehead kisses. i wrote this whilst listening to i know the end by phoebe bridgers. that’s all i’m gonna say.

let me know what you think, pretty please :3 comments, reblogs, and feedback are so super very appreciated!

In any other situation, the sight of snow resting on Emily’s eyelashes and the rosy hue coloring her cheeks would have made you smile. But now, the contrast of pink against Emily’s pale skin was akin to the blood seeping into the snow beneath your thigh.

"Take a deep breath." The words echoed in your mind just before the piercing pain of pressure shot up your leg. You gritted your teeth and inhaled sharply, unsure whether to feel relieved or terrified that your leg had gone numb.

“I’m sorry, ‘m so sorry,” Emily muttered, her voice tight as she tied the sleeve she'd torn from her jacket around your leg, the makeshift tourniquet pulling painfully. Through the haze of agony, you could catch a glimpse of her expression—a flicker of apology behind her determined gaze. A sheen layer of sweat covered your forehead as the last traces of color drained from your face. Your lips quivered in the biting cold, and suddenly, it felt like the tree you were propped against was sinking its teeth into your back.

The sound of blood rushing through your ears made it difficult to discern the sounds around you, but what you could hear was Emily barking desperate commands into her communication device. Your vision blurred, and you could barely make out her crouched form, her hand trembling slightly as it held the sleeve in place.

Your eyelids grew heavier with each blink, and your ragged breaths became slower. In any other situation, Emily might have thought you were simply falling asleep, but she knew better now. She knew you couldn’t. Her cold hands patted your cheeks frantically, the rough texture of her calloused palms scratching at your skin, but you didn’t have the energy to protest.

“Hey! Hey, stay with me,” she urged, her voice taut with fear, her eyes wide as she searched your face for signs of fading consciousness. “Keep your eyes open. Keep ‘em on me.” You tried—God, you tried to keep your focus on her, to cling to the anchor of her presence like you always had. But the pain was loud, the adrenaline had long since drained from your body, and all you wanted to do was succumb to the temptation of sweet relief your brain was offering.

“Hurts like hell,” you mumbled, your trembling hand reaching for her wrist. Your fingers weakly closed around her skin, the pressure barely there, but Emily felt it—she felt you hanging on, even if only by a thread.

“I know, I know,” she soothed, her voice cracking ever so slightly as she leaned closer. “But you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Your grip tightened subtly, a silent gesture. Of what? She couldn’t tell. But in that moment, she took it as a lifeline, clinging to the hope that you were still fighting.

“Where the hell are the medics?!” she shouted into the mic on her wrist, her lips pulling back in a snarl, frustration and fear overtaking her composure. You had spent hours studying Emily's face in quiet moments, memorizing every nuance—the slight crease in her brow, the tiny twitch in her eye. So when you saw those familiar signs of distress, you knew things were bad.

“What is it?” you croaked, forcing the words through your dry throat, fighting to stay conscious. Emily pressed her palm against her forehead, trying desperately to keep it together for your sake. But with your blood seeping into her hands, the icy air cutting through her lungs, and the knowledge that the paramedics couldn’t reach you, she felt like she was on the verge of breaking.

“The roads are icy. The medics... they can’t get to us.” Her voice wavered, betraying the terror she was trying so hard to suppress. You closed your eyes, a silent curse slipping through your cold lips followed by a shiver.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do,” she said, her voice shaking. You looked at her and she looked up at the darkening sky, sending a silent prayer to the one she hadn’t talked to in years. She licked her lips, inhaling deeply as if the cold air could steady her nerves. She looked back down at you, taking in the face she’d memorized over the years. The face she’d walk through hell for.

“They,” She began, her voice betraying the fear that coursed through her. the fear of not being able to do enough for you. “They’re not that far out.” She looked out into the woods, perhaps towards the road? you couldn’t tell. “We can meet them,” She assured, squeezing your hand.

You shook your head, you were more than appreciative for her stubbornness. She never knew when to stop; but, you were tired.

“No..” you shuddered, a faint smile on your lips as if you were trying to ease the hard to swallow pill you were about to shove in her mouth. “I— I can’t feel my leg, Emily.”

Emily’s face dropped and a bitter taste flooded her senses. She had two options, she could either let the fear paralyze her or she could paralyze her fear and save you—It was a no brainer.

She wrapped a hand around your left wrist, tucking her head under your arm. You winced in surprise, your sore muscles pulsing, reacting to her touch.

“Emily—” your protest died on your lips as she hooked her right arm under your non-injured leg, effectively distributing your weight across her shoulders as she stood.

A fireman’s carry, the most basic skill taught and practiced at the academy. A carry executed during sparring sessions and physical tests. A carry that she had associated with giggles and kicks as she used it to get you from her couch to her bed when you’d fall asleep. After years in the field, she’d finally applied it outside of a controlled environment, but as she took heavy-footed steps through the snow she wanted to close her eyes and be back in her living room. She wanted nothing more than for you to throw punches as you giggled and protested to be put down.

Her shoulders dug into your chests and stomach, the feeling making your breath ragged again. You didn’t know how long you’d been walking for, everything had blurred together after the bullet tore through your thigh.

"We're almost there," she promised, her voice steady despite the tremor in her breath. Her fingers dug into your leg, the pressure of her grip grounding you as the wail of sirens screamed in the distance, growing louder with every step she took. The dark stain of your blood seeped through her jacket, a vivid reminder of the weight she carried—not just your body, but the possibility of your life slipping through her hands. Every step was agony, her muscles burning with the strain.

The flashing of red and blue came into view and she could feel tears stinging in her eyes. She could hear Morgan yelling her name, and as his figure got closer she almost yelled at him for being in her way. Her legs gave out under her, and she placed you on the ground as gently as she could. “She’s concious—She’s concious but she’s lost a lot of blood, I—” She rambled, her hands holding yours impossibly tight. The paramedics surrounded the both of you, and Emily was afraid to let go. Afraid that this would be the last time she held you.

She pleaded with the stars above that they would consider her, that for once in her life they’d consider her. She felt you squeeze her hand back and that made her all the more reluctant to let go. But she couldn’t be selfish. she couldn’t do that to you.

“Prentiss! Woah, Prentiss! Let her go, you’ve done enough.” Derek’s voice cut through the haze that had overcome her, His hands enveloping her as she watched the paramedics take over.

Everything else seemed to blur together, is this what it’d been like for you?

After some back and forth with one of the paramedics, she gave in to being checked out. Derek sat next to her as she pulled the thermal blanket closer to herself, the thought of your blood being on her hands—figuratively and literally—made her shiver, though she chalked it up to the cold.

“She’s going to make it, Emily.” Derek voiced, but how could he know? He had no way of knowing, neither did she. She watched the sirens grow distant from the spot where she sat, all she could do was hope she’d done enough for you.

[heartpascal]

when the sun goes down

▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: joel doesn’t talk about you, until he does

▹— a/n: this one might be kinda ,, weird?? idk if i like how ive written it!! its kinda different to my usual fics !!! + the ending is kinda funky idk

▹— warnings: fem!reader (she/her used), reader is dead , mention of reader getting infected , grief, loss, guilt, lots of angst, small mention of suicidal ideation, referenced murder, mother tess, father joel, uncle tommy, ellie asking inappropriate questions tbh, think that’s everything but let me know!

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything) @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear (pedro)

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

When Joel had been a stranger, Ellie would have never even had the thought to guess that you or Sarah had existed. The man seemed… too stoic, too unbothered, or perhaps, too bothered. She was never really sure what Joel was, back then.

But over the weeks, then the months, and then the years of knowing Joel Miller, it had become increasingly obvious that there was a distinctive daughter-shaped gap within him. It had left a cavernous space in the man, which Ellie had done her very best to fill, even if she would never have admitted it to anyone.

It was clear in the way Joel had tied up her hair when she was sick, in the way he knew exactly what she needed to hear, even when she didn’t know herself. It was obvious in the way he responded to her argumentative nature, her spitting words, his protective behaviour.

Ellie hadn’t even really thought about it, until the day she and Joel arrived at Jackson, until Maria revealed what the two names on that chalkboard meant. After that, it all started to make sense, and she had finally believed that she understood Joel Miller in some deeper way, in a way that actually mattered. She didn’t think about what she was doing back when she had argued with Joel, when she had spluttered out, “I’m not her, you know.”

Your name hadn’t even been mentioned, back then, and Ellie hadn’t known at the time that when she had said her, Joel didn’t know exactly who she was talking about.

Either way, he made it clear that Ellie shouldn’t be mentioning anybody Joel had lost. Certainly not you or Sarah, or even Tess.

After the whole… hospital fiasco, Ellie wasn’t sure she had ever understood Joel, after all. She’d been numb, to some extent, when she and Joel had finally made it back to Jackson, back to Tommy and Maria’s warm house, with their surprisingly peaceful baby. The first time she had visited their house, she hadn’t even noticed your name up on the chalkboard, a new addition, one without any dates below it, but written with as much care as the others.

It was the second, or the third time, maybe, that Ellie noticed the brand new name up on the chalkboard in Maria’s living room. She had been even more hesitant to talk about it than she had been to talk about Sarah and Kevin, so Ellie had figured that the loss was fresh. She hadn’t asked again, for a very long time.

Tommy, unsurprisingly, had been the one to tell her. A long day after a nightly patrol had the man exhausted, and he was two glasses of booze in when he had seen Ellie squinting up at the chalkboard as she was around for dinner.

“He ever tell you about her?” Tommy asked, fresh glass of booze gripped in his fist as he settled down on the sofa, looking up at the board with something numb in his eyes.

Ellie had said your name like a question, eyes scanning between the board and Tommy with furrowed brows. At Tommy’s nod, Ellie had shook her head, turning to Tommy like a child ready for story time before bed.

Tommy took another sip of his drink, sucking his teeth before he finally spoke. “He never told me what happened to her,” He said, eyes fixed on the board as if information might appear. “But I figure he must blame himself, whatever happened. She was fine when I left, but I’m guessing gone by the time you were around.” Tommy continued, looking to Ellie, who nodded. “Don’t know when exactly it happened. He’s real tight lip about it, even more so than he is about Tess, but I don’t blame him. She was his second chance.”

“Second chance?” Ellie repeated, eyebrows raised.

Tommy nodded in confirmation. “Found her not long after the Outbreak. She took to Joel straight away, poor kid. After Sarah, he was… different, but Joel, he looked after that girl like nobody else would’a.”

Some of the things Joel had done or said made a lot more sense to Ellie, in light of this information. You had been Joel’s second chance at protecting his daughter, his redemption, and he had failed. It was no surprise, in that case, that he had been as protective as he had. Or that he had tried to dump Ellie with Tommy, back when they first got to Jackson.

Joel believed he was a failure.

It was quite the realisation for Ellie.

She noticed more, after that. Like the way Joel would stop in the street when he saw people who must have held a certain resemblance to you or to Sarah. Or the way he would stay up late into the night, staring blankly at the darkening world around him as he sat on the porch. Ellie noticed just how much effort Joel put into looking after her, as if afraid that something could happen to her, or she could just disappear. She also noticed the way his eyes lingered on Tommy’s chalkboard, each time they visited.

Ellie thought that maybe, some day, Joel would wind up talking about you on his own. But days passed, and then weeks, and then they’d been staying in Jackson for close to two years, and nothing.

If it hadn’t had been for Joel sticking his nose into Ellie’s business, she probably would’ve never even revealed to him that she knew of your existence. Or at least, your connection to him. But Joel Miller was nothing if not stubborn, and when Ellie had been down for more than two days in a row, he stopped minding his business.

Joel was all comforting words in the face of a preventable loss on a patrol, and Ellie was sick of it.

“It ain’t your fault, kiddo. Nobody blames you for what happened, and you oughta talk about it to somebody.” Joel had said, voice warm and concerned like any father might be, and Ellie couldn’t help but snap after the day she’d had.

“It’s always one thing for you and then another for me, Joel!” She said, baring her teeth at the man, who only looked as confused as ever. “I’m sick of it. Stop telling me things that you know aren’t true, just because you feel guilty!”

His arms had been crossed defensively over his chest at her words, his eyebrows furrowing, the crease between them more prominent than ever. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, voice gruff and warning, as opposed to the previous tone he had been taking with her. He was practically daring her to go on with what she was insinuating.

“That you want to believe your kids dying wasn’t on you! And that’s great, Joel, but this was on me. It was my fault.” Ellie had spat out, arms wide out by her side, their stances opposing one another. She was accepting her guilt, acknowledging it, realising it was true, where Joel had only ever taken the blame, lugging the guilt along with him for years as if hoping it could disappear.

He had been sure, for a moment, that Ellie had taken to physical blows, but he realised in the silence which had followed her words that the pain was all him. She was right, which to Joel, was the real kicker. He had a knack for projecting onto people, for being defensive over guilt as if it reflected his own. As if, somehow, Ellie being guilty meant that Joel certainly was, too.

Maybe Ellie was right, but even if she was, Joel was in no mindset to admit it. How could he? He couldn’t even bring himself to talk about you, too scared that Ellie would see him for what he truly was; a failure. How would Ellie have responded to that? It was the exact reason he hadn’t told her the truth about the hospital, about what he had done, about the lengths he would go to. She might have seen him violent before, but never to that extent. Never against people she cared for.

If he told Ellie the truth, he would have to admit that he had failed a third child. Perhaps not quite in the same way as he had failed you and Sarah, but in some capacity, he would lose her, too.

Joel had been a selfish man for a very long time, by then. It was no surprise that he opted for the path that would allow him to keep the only child he had left. Who could blame him? Even Tommy, in some strange way, had understood his actions. Especially after his baby had been born, Tommy couldn’t blame Joel for doing what was necessary.

A parent’s love for their child was unrelenting. And Joel took that sentiment very seriously.

But Ellie couldn’t understand. She wouldn’t.

So, in that moment, he had levelled her with a look that put all parental glares to shame. “Go to your room.” Joel had instructed, voice flat, cold. Ellie, in her shock, had done as she was told, which was unusual.

This time, however, when Joel told Tommy of what had occurred, his brother hadn’t agreed with his actions.

When Tommy explained that Ellie didn’t know about you, or about Sarah, and certainly didn’t understand the relationship the two of you had had with Joel, he could see how she could’ve said something so… distasteful. After all, Joel had never told Ellie exactly what had happened to Sarah, let alone to you. Hell, he didn’t speak about you at all. He didn’t want Ellie to believe that he would fail her next.

But the talk was overdue, and the silence in the house had been suffocating Joel, and he noticed how uncomfortable Ellie had been, too. So he had no choice but to steel himself, to grip a mug of coffee, give up on slowing his heart rate.

When Ellie walked through the door, having been out with her friends all day, she stopped short at seeing Joel sat on the couch, looking more stressed than she had seen him in a long, long time. “Sit down.” Joel said, his words catching and tumbling out, as he gestured towards the armchair opposite the couch.

Surprisingly, she sat. “Is everything… okay?” She asked, hesitantly.

“I think it’s time I have a talk with you,” Joel admitted, his fingers squeezing the mug tightly. “You were right.”

“As always.” Ellie responded instantly, an instinctive response that generated a scoff of laughter from Joel, soothing his stressed brow the slightest amount. She cringed, but relaxed at his expression. “About what, exactly?”

“About it being one thing for me, and another for you. It’s not fair of me to ask you to talk about things, if I don’t talk right back to you.” Joel said, slowly, trying to sort through his thoughts before he fumbled another important father-daughter talk, as he had done many times before. “I’m goin’ to tell you about my girls.”

“Joel, you really don’t—”

He interrupted, “No, I do. And I want to.”

Ellie nodded after a moment, settling down in her chair, finally placing her backpack by her feet. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Joel repeated. He took a deep breath, squeezing the coffee mug once more. He said your name, the syllables almost unfamiliar for how long it had been since he had said it. “She, well, I—… She got Infected, ‘bout six years ago.”

Ellie sucked in a harsh breath, sure she knew what had happened after that. It was a story she knew, all too well. Joel scratched at the hair on his cheek, grinding his teeth together. Remembering it all, remembering you was… hard. But it was also refreshing. As if showing the parts of you he’d held to his chest for so long was a weight, lifted from his shoulders.

He didn’t want to talk about that part, about the time he failed you, about what he’d done for you, but other things? He could talk about those.

Joel remembered the years he had spent with you, watching you grow, spending weeks of his life searching for gifts for every assumed birthday. He remembered teaching you how to read, gifting you books, helping you learn how to survive. He remembered the bond you’d shared with Tess, the time the two of them would spend doing your hair for you, with whatever supplies they could manage.

Telling Ellie about you was probably the most vulnerable Joel had ever been with her. It was certainly the most open he had been. It felt like, for the first time in a very long time, he had his heart stitched onto his sleeve.

There was so many memories of you, so many he’d kept to himself for years because Tess had never been able to talk about you, because he couldn’t bring himself to, either. He worried about memories he had forgotten, about how much of your face had faded into obscurity, about how inaccurately he recalled your laugh, your voice.

He thought that, perhaps, his very worst fear would be that if he let go of these memories, if he let other people look upon them alongside him, he’d forget. Joel wasn’t sure he could be open and hold on tight enough. What was too much? How much could he say before he forgot it all? How much would he remember if he didn’t analyse them in his mind? If he let Ellie listen to the moments he held most dear?

Joel didn’t want to forget.

But if he didn’t tell anybody, then who would remember you, after Joel was gone?

There was Tommy, he’d considered, but he knew Tommy’s memories were corrupted, taken over by Firefly nostalgia. No, despite Joel’s being older, his memories of you were certain to be more reliable.

“Here,” Joel said, eventually, his throat feeling tight with the effort of holding back tears. He pulled out a folded up print, one he had gotten out just that afternoon. It was crumpled and degraded with age, but the image remained true. “This is her.”

Ellie took the photo from his hands, the image being of you. It was taken when you were a kid, back when he’d first found you, back when FEDRA had been doing photographs, before all of the printing supplies ran out. It wasn’t a happy picture by any means, merely an image of you, stood in front of a white background with a scared look on your face, dirt smeared across your nose, but it was you. And to Joel, that was enough.

He much preferred to think of you that way, rather than your last moments. It was the only thing that allowed him to let go of that last picture of you, the one that haunted his mind.

When Tess had died, the only thing that gave Joel some peace was the belief that she would have reunited with you. That you wouldn’t be alone, anymore. Often times, in the events after your… well, after he lost you, Joel had considered following you down that path. He had prayed to the God he had once believed in, he had cried out for any divine interference to stop what had happened from being true. But no matter how much he prayed, how much he cried, you were gone.

You had given him a purpose, after Sarah. Joel doesn’t think he would’ve made it this far, if it hadn’t been for you. And it feels so… wrong. He thinks, now, that Ellie had provided him with a purpose, after you.

“So, you raised her in the apocalypse?” Ellie asked, looking down at the photograph fondly, running a thumb along the yellowing picture.

“That I did.”

“Lucky kid.” Ellie said, not nastily.

“I dunno, kiddo, I’ve not always been the best…” Joel trailed off, unsure if he could actually refer to himself as your dad, after everything. After what he had done. Or, rather, what he hadn’t. “We did our best, me and Tess. Hell, even Tommy pitched in.” Joel decided on, after a moment.

He remembered the times Tommy would agree to look after you, to babysit, if such a thing existed in the apocalypse. Usually, it was when he and Tess were going outside of the QZ for supplies, occasionally for the Fireflies, which was why Tommy was allowed time away from his war against FEDRA.

One such time, Joel recalled, he and Tess had returned back to the ransacked apartment they had been assigned to find you and Tommy curled up on the decaying couch, which had only one cushion, asleep. A blanket had been wrapped around your shoulders, and Tommy had your newest book held in his lap.

In that moment, Joel had so wished that he could’ve taken a picture. He remembered a picture of almost the same scene, of Tommy and Sarah on the couch in his old house, in front of a still-playing TV. He regretted not taking the photo albums when they left, back then. Even now, he often felt a pang of regret over how much of Sarah’s memory was reliant on his own.

“Tess raised her with you?” Ellie questioned, almost surprised, but she could remember the way Tess had acted almost… maternal. Not to mention her optimism, her hope, when there was a possibility of a cure. She wondered if that was because of what had happened to you.

Joel nodded, going on to tell the tale of Tess teaching you how to shoot, when you became old enough to handle a gun, when it became apparent that you would need to handle one. He remembered how you had missed all but one shot by your second lot of ammo. He remembered how frustrated you had been, how Tess had told you to suck it up and try again, with that good old no-nonsense attitude.

Ellie could almost imagine Tess saying that, could almost picture how annoying that must’ve been for you as a kid. It was almost amusing to try and picture Joel and Tess raising a child in the apocalypse, especially given how the two had been when she had met them, herself. She tried to imagine that Tess being a mother, but came up empty.

“Did she, y’know, call you dad, or whatever?” Ellie asked Joel, after a moment of hesitation. She wasn’t sure if that was inappropriate to ask, but she was curious. She couldn’t imagine calling Joel ‘dad’ to his face, even though he was the only father she had ever known.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“Dad!” You yelled, jumping up from the couch and away from Tommy, successfully waking him up in the process. You stumbled your way to the door as Joel swung it open, already dropping his bag to the floor. He was used to the greeting party, but you didn’t often shout him, in fact — did you ever? And since when did you call him ‘dad’? “You’re home! Did you get it?” You asked, jumping into his awaiting arms.

Joel squeezed you tightly, feeling a mixture of guilty and relieved that he was glad to be back, to come home to the child he had yet to fail. He thought about where you could have learnt that word, that name from, and could only come up with the new books Tommy had been helping you with while he and Tess had been away.

“‘Course I got it,” Joel responded, his voice gruff but full of warmth and humour. “Who d’you take me for?” He asked, grinning at your laughter and the way you squirmed from his hold to get to the backpack he’d dropped beside his feet.

“What’re we reading next, then?” Tommy asked, drawing Joel’s attention over towards the sofa, where his younger brother was smiling fondly. You hurried over, attention easily drawn away, and showed Tommy the book you’d taken from Joel’s bag, the one he’d managed to scrounge on his journey outside with Tess.

Joel was quickly drawn from his memories of the journey by you calling out to him once more. “Dad, are you coming to read with us, or not?” You asked, exasperated, and Joel grinned as he came over, his heart aching in his chest at the name, at the nostalgia of the activity.

“You bet.”

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“She did.” Joel answered, after a moment of him being distracted, thinking of that very first time, thinking of the way he had fallen back into the title with such familiarity. He wondered if you would have been much like Sarah, had you been born before the apocalypse. Sometimes, he wondered that about Ellie. Often, he had to remind himself that you and Ellie weren’t his biological kids, and if it wasn’t for the apocalypse, he wouldn’t have had you.

He doesn’t like the way his chest aches at the thought of that. It might just be the only reason he’s grateful for the apocalypse that had ruined the world.

“She would’a liked you, y’know.” Joel said, almost absentmindedly, as if that comment didn’t make Ellie’s chest warm with appreciation, with pride. As if it didn’t make her wish that she could’ve met you, could’ve proved that comment correct.

“I think I would’ve liked her, too.” Ellie said, quietly, watching the way Joel reminisced, his eyes glazed over as he stared at the photo she still held. He smiled after a moment, and she was sure he was imagining what his life would’ve been like, had all of his kids met.

[theeoriginals]

klaus or elijah (your choice) x former flame!reader 👀

all i want | elijah mikaelson

+ Ohhh I loved your cat and mouse one! Could you please make a calm housewife/mom of the friend group type of girl and Elijah falling for her in a kind of best friend to lovers situation? Idk I just think it would fit cause elijah’s very family oriented and I see him falling for a dear old time friend too? Idk so uhm yeah. Feel free to refuse ofc!

elijah mikaelson x vampire!reader (no y/n)

author's notes; combining these requests :) hope that's ok!!

warnings; vague references to past violence but nothing insane. exes to friends to lovers, just plotless fluff, with an extra side of fluff. yes elijah is extremely charming, yes he can't make eye contact with a pretty girl. duality of man.

It’s an unspoken thing, what lingers between them still. Unspoken in the sense that they don’t talk about it, but everyone else does. 

It always shocks people to learn that the oldest vampires on Earth are ridiculous, catty gossips. Elijah doesn’t know why it’s such a surprise. Living as long as they all have, you’ve got to keep things interesting, otherwise immortality becomes mind-numbing. He supposes that it just doesn’t measure up to their reputation for being ruthless animals, which isn’t unfounded. It’s just not the only thing they could be classified as. 

Ruthless monsters that defend each other to the death at the end of the day, no matter how many times they’ve stabbed each other in the backs, certainly. Childish gossips that like to start rumors and rewrite history when they get a little bored, definitely. The two identifiers can coexist, and very much do.

And this thing, this unspoken thing that is unspoken for a multitude of reasons but none more so than the simple fact that even as long as they’ve known each other it’s still fragile, and something could break it with ease, is only unspoken to Elijah. 

His brothers and sisters, however, like to do nothing but talk about it. 

“Well, she’s almost here,” Rebekah rolls her eyes, but it’s just for the fact that her older brother is going to be a lovesick idiot the entire time the girl is here, and it really takes away from Rebekah’s own quality time with her. “No wonder Elijah’s been bumbling around like a fool all day.” 

Klaus chuckles, and the two of them dutifully ignore the glare their brother sends them. “Do you think she sent him a letter to announce her arrival? Elijah always loves things like that,” 

Rebekah’s blue eyes light up. “Oh, yes! I wonder if she sprayed it with her perfume– us ladies used to do that with a suitor back in the day,” She fans a hand towards her face, closing her eyes at the small breeze it creates. “They don’t text or call, of course, it takes all of the personality out of it. And god knows Elijah’s all personality,” 

Klaus laughs again, and the two finally glance across the room to where Elijah’s leaning against a wall, glaring at them with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“I hate you both,” He says, earning another round of laughter from them. “And stop going through my things, Rebekah. Those letters are none of your business.” 

The blonde girl pushes her lips out in a pout. “But I get so bored, Elijah. You can’t be mad at me for entertaining myself,” 

“I fear he just hates fun, dear sister,” Klaus says, feigning a wistful tone. “He doesn’t approve of my methods of entertainment either.” 

“That’s because your methods of entertainment always end in a bloodbath,” Elijah says accusingly, earning a shrug from the hybrid. “You’re both immature. A thousand years old, still acting like children.” 

Their faces twist in offense in unison, and Elijah distantly thinks that even though they’re not even fully related, let alone the same age even in their vampiric years, they were twins put on this Earth to terrorize him and ensure that he never knew peace. 

Before they can begin their outcries of dramatized offense, and Elijah can continue to lightheartedly mock them, a voice comes from the hall, echoing fondly. 

“Must you two always tease your brother?” The smile is obvious in her voice as she walks into the room, and the three of them snap their gazes towards the woman in surprise. “He’s a delicate soul, you know. His poor heart can’t handle too many jokes,” 

Elijah recovers quickly, rolling his eyes, though he can’t (and won’t) stop the smile from growing on his face as she meets Rebekah for a hug. “Oh, wonderful. That’s just what they need. Encouragement.” 

She chuckles at his poorly-feigned exasperation, and the sound settles in his ears like a morning dove’s song. She releases Rebekah from the hug and leans down to where Klaus is stretched out in a chair with his feet kicked up on the table, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Glancing around at the vaulted ceilings of the compound, she sighs wistfully. “I can’t believe this place looks the same as when you bought it,” She shakes her head in slight disbelief. 

Klaus shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. “When we first returned, there was some… cleaning up to do, but it’s maintained its shape wonderfully.” 

If she catches onto his double entendre, she doesn’t say anything, just nods in understanding. That’s something Elijah has always liked about her– she lets things go unsaid. She’s always had the ability to connect with him and his siblings in a way that most others can’t, and even when Elijah is at his worst, she’s been that olive branch that he can grab onto to bring him back to himself. Always so understanding and level. It’s a wonder that she still associates with any of them, given their penchant for chaos. 

Finally, she turns her attention onto him, and in its entirety he feels breathless. Even after decades of knowing one another, it’s never gotten easier to hide his ardor for her. He knows she can still read him as easily as she could thirty years ago, too.

“Elijah,” She says his name better than he’s ever heard it, with a tilt to her head and a fondness in her voice that makes him feel more alive than anything else he’s found in his centuries on this planet. 

She crosses the room to where he’s at, because he froze in his spot as soon as he heard her voice, and wraps her arms around him like she’s never been more relieved to see him. 

It’s another thing he’s always liked about her. She’s never stopped loving him. He knows that. Lives with it everyday. 

Regrets a lot of things, too. 

He says her name back as gently as he can, like she’ll break in his arms. He wonders if she thinks of all the times she has broken in his arms, and then he tells himself there’s no way she’s forgotten it, because he hasn’t. And that is something that is theirs and theirs alone. 

She pulls away and he misses her touch the moment she goes because it feels rarer and rarer with each day that passes. Every time she leaves, he fears it’s the last time he’ll see her. 

He doesn’t want to ruin her visit with these thoughts. Even though he knows she’d offer him endless comfort, he doesn’t want her to worry about him for a second. 

She turns to face them, clapping her hands together with a smile. “Well, then. What’s first on the agenda?” 

────── 

Something that comes with living as long as Elijah has is learning that some things about yourself you’ll just never be able to change. Such things like being a vampire in itself, having a firm hand when it comes to doing business with people. He’s been told he’s somewhat of a snake, and he’s well aware of his silver tongued ways, and it’s something he knows he can’t change, and hasn’t ever wanted to. 

One thing that has yet to fall under that category of acceptance is his jealousy. 

In his defense, he’s never jealous when he thinks he should be. He’s never been jealous of his siblings, spare for a few embarrassing months spent around the doppelgängers, but Elijah has never had to envy someone for something they had because if he wanted it that bad, he could just take it. 

But this. This he knows is jealousy, pure and unbridled, and nauseating, if he’s feeling that correctly. 

This is the jealousy that he’s seen destroy entire regimes. This is the jealousy that has driven his family to madness at times. 

And of course, she’s at the center of it all. Of course she is. There would be no other way he could feel this so strongly if she was not involved in it somehow. 

She’s the source of a lot of jealousy, he knows. He’s jealous of the carefree relationships his siblings get to have with her because they don’t have to be burdened with the feelings of the past that are most definitely still there. They don’t have to worry if they looked at her lips for too long, or if they held her a little too gentle to be considered entirely friendly. They don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing, stepping past that line they so carefully drew in the sand for everyone’s sake. 

These are the consequences of his actions, he knows. It doesn’t make it any easier to deal with, though. It might make it worse. 

Watching his siblings drink freely as the band played on was nothing unfamiliar. Patrons had long since joined in on the fun, and he’s sure there’s a crowd outside looking in on the celebration of unknown origins. 

At the center of it all, she is there, standing on a table with a crowd of adoring admirers surrounding her as she swayed and moved to the music. He would swear there’s a light shining on her, just for her, projecting her shadow above everyone like some sort of angel. He thinks she has every right to be worshiped. 

And the reason he’s so maddeningly, bitingly jealous is because he is the reason that he’s not the one dancing with her. He can’t be the one to dance with her, and he can’t be the one that makes her laugh like she is because he’s the one that said they shouldn’t be together. He is the one who broke her heart, and he doesn’t deserve an ounce of the kindness she still shows. 

So all he can do is sip his drink at the bar and watch as she pulls his sister, sweet, dangerous, devastatingly insecure Rebekah, up onto the table with her and shares her spotlight with her. Making his sister light up like she does with no one else. Earning another round of cheers from Klaus and Kol as they watch on, demanding another round of drinks for everyone in an odd show of generosity. 

She brings out the best in his siblings. In him. 

It makes him burn bright inside. Boiling, hot to the touch. He knows then and there that there’s a reason he’s seen something as trivial as jealousy take down the most powerful of men. Love is such a dangerous thing to get involved in in the first place, but finding someone, finding the woman who makes you feel like you could conquer the world is something else entirely. It bypasses dangerous and heads straight into fatal. 

Because she makes you feel like you could conquer the whole world, but the second you lose her, it all means nothing. You’ll tear it all down if it means she won’t be there, too. 

And the worst part of it all is the only reason he feels like this is because he is the one that ruined it. Blamed his family, blamed his parents, blamed everything else but his own fears for the reason they couldn’t be together. The distance, the timing. Whatever he could grasp, he pulled it out of his pocket and gave it to her on a silver platter, served with a distant coldness he’d long since perfect, and never wanted to use on her in the first place. 

He had so much time under his belt, but he was such a child. So helpless it bordered on criminal, all because he fell in love and he didn’t know what to do with it. 

It’s embarrassing more than anything else. 

He hasn’t taken his eyes off of her since she started dancing. Hadn’t stopped listening since he heard her first laugh. Didn’t want to miss a single second, just in case. 

For the first time all night, he blinked and turned his head away from her and threw the rest of his drink back like it was water. 

He could allow himself a bit more wallowing. Just a bit. 

────── 

“Well, Rebekah’s safe in bed. I even got her in pajamas, believe it or not,” Her voice carries even in its whisper, and he looks up from his lap as she enters the small living space, hands clasped in front of her as she takes a seat in the chair beside him. “Original vampire or not, I doubt she’ll feel very good in the morning.” 

Elijah hummed, thinking of his dear sister and how even if she’d healed a thousand times over, she’d still find a way to complain. He adored it. 

“What about you?” 

He raises a brow, lips twisting confusedly. “What about me?” 

She gestures towards his slightly slumped form on the couch pointedly. He follows her direction, looking at his rumpled suit, and the white button up he’d undone the top four buttons off, at least. He feels momentarily embarrassed at his state of disarray but he simply huffs out a laugh, lifting his gaze to meet hers again. 

“I’m a mess,” He shrugs, earning a quiet laugh out of her. “But I don’t think that has anything to do with our drinking tonight.” 

“I can’t disagree, unfortunately,” 

He hides the way his grin threatens to split his face behind his face, rubbing along his scruffy jawline as he looks at her. The longer he lingers, the more she avoids his gaze. 

“What?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Elijah,” She intones, such a familiar adoration in her voice that it nearly makes him sick. He doesn’t deserve it. “You’ve been so quiet tonight. What’s on your mind?” 

“You,” 

Her eyes widen in shock at his quick, candid answer, and he has to hide his own surprise at how quick the word had shot out of his mouth. 

“Me? What about me?” 

“Everything,” He sighs, shifting his long legs so he could turn towards her and give her his full attention. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Oh,” She breathes out, looking slightly bashful. “Well, I always miss you. I wouldn’t ever leave if I didn’t–” 

She stops herself, covering her mouth with her hand as a sheepish look crosses her face. He knows she wants him to move past her slip up, but he doesn’t. Can’t. 

“If you didn’t, what?” He leans forward, looking at her imploringly. “Why do you stay away so long?” 

She takes a moment to collect herself, picking at the skin around her nails half-heartedly, like it’s not really bothering her, she just doesn’t want to be so open right now. He’d feel worse about pushing her if he didn’t feel like his heart was leaping out of his throat. 

“Well, I didn’t think you wanted me around that much,” She says quietly, gesturing towards him. 

He rears back like she’s slapped him. 

“How could you ever think such a thing?” He whispers her name, a distant veil of horror laced in his tone. Fear, really. 

“You said,” She says, face furrowing in confusion. “All those years ago– you said that there was no reason for me to stay here with you in New Orleans. So, I– I left. And I travel all the time until I come back here for as long as you’ll let me.” 

Elijah feels something gripping his chest and it feels remarkably like his heart is breaking. 

His voice breaks on her name and he leans forward again, reaching into her space to grab her hands in his. Allowing himself this piece of her that he simply doesn’t deserve. 

“I never,” He stops, breathing out harshly. “I never wanted you to leave. I just–” 

He stops again, squeezes her hands, and then steels himself because this is the least he owes her. 

“You deserved more than to be stuck here with my family,” He starts slowly. “I never– I never wanted you to leave. Every time you walk out of those doors, I want to chase you down and make you stay. You have to believe me when I say that I only ever wanted you to be happy, and you wouldn’t have found that stuck here in the mess we had made back then.” 

There’s a poignant silence that settles as she processes his words, and he holds the ragged breath that builds in his chest when she begins to drag her thumbs along the backs of his hands, smoothing at the skin there. Ever so gentle. 

“All I’ve ever wanted was to be here with you and your family,” She says, shaking her head like she’s scolding him, even though her tone is anything but. “Being here makes me happier than any place I’ve traveled to. And I’m– I’m truly grateful that you had my best interest in mind, Elijah, but you have to understand,” 

She trails off and an incredulous laugh leaves her lips as she smiles at him. “I’ve loved you my entire life. And my heart used to break every day knowing that I’d only have a short time with you. When I turned, I was so– I was so happy because I suddenly had the rest of time to be with you. And you… you broke my heart, Elijah. You truly did,” 

She presses her thumbs into his skin firmly, just a pressure point to punctuate her words. “But I have never stopped loving you. And every time I walked out of those doors and left you behind, my heart broke again. You wouldn’t have ever had to make me stay. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” 

Elijah’s breath stalls in his chest, and lets it out slowly, shakily. There’s a distant string of hope he lets himself pull on, just this once. Because she let him. 

He meets her gaze and smiles softly, just for her. “Will you stay, then? I’m– I’m asking you, truly. Will you stay?” 

She nods before he even finishes speaking and laughs quietly, the sound just for him. “Of course I will, Elijah. I’ll stay as long as you want me to,” 

“Forever,” 

“Forever, then. I’ll stay forever.” 

[katerina-marie]

The Uncertainty of Domesticity

Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 of 3

Toji Fushiguro wasn’t afraid of much, though he definitely felt so when he became a widower in the same moment he became a father. Years later, he felt it again when you came along with the same hopes and dreams for a future he never thought he would experience again.

Content: JJK universe but no canon events / strangers & neighbors to lovers / medium burn idk / female reader and referred to as such but left descriptively vague / no y/n / out of character and soft Toji / single-father Toji / SFW (for this part anyway) / Megumi-Mama/Mamaguro dies in childbirth and its mentioned once or twice / cutie pie child Megumi / fluff / slice of life / light angst from Toji's inner turmoil / discussions about having children / pregnancy and childbirth for reader in part 3 (pending) / more notes below.

WC: 6.1k

Notes: I just really wanted to see Toji "I'm doing my best at this single-dad thing" Fushiguro raise Megumi, fall in love again and get a happy ending, so here is me indulging myself. This isn't so much Toji struggling to move on from his late wife as it is him meeting you and then being scared about having a future with you taken away. But not as angsty as it sounds, very much fluff and vibes and snippets of goodness. Also, I am clearly taking liberties with JJK canon, so just go with it.

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

Toji Fushiguro wasn’t afraid of much.

He wasn’t afraid of what went bump in the night, not when he was the one who hunted it once and was maybe a part of it himself in days long gone. 

He wasn’t afraid when he tied himself to the woman he loved in law and name. Trepidation might have jolted Toji awake on a rare night, and the desire to keep her protected from the past of himself gave him the urge to flee on occasion. The balm of her touch and the promise of a new blessing that grew within her stayed his limbs.

Shock muffled all the sound around him as he held the new life she had given him while her’s slipped away in a rush of blood and the shouting of doctors. A nurse helped him collapse into a hospital chair and took the baby from his arms when the growing pool of dark red on the floor—something Toji had once been accustomed to—swallowed his whole field of vision until he saw nothing else. Desperation spread numbness over his body and allowed a high pitched whine to echo in his ears when the flurry of movement in the room came to a slow stop, and a white sheet was dragged over the face of a woman now gone. 

Pressure threatened to cave his chest and Toji curled over his knees to gape wildly at the floor as he struggled to pull in any strangled breath that he could manage. He felt hollow, devoid of anything and one wrong move away from shattering in place. Tears burned his eyes as he clenched them shut, and it was fear that suddenly set in when grief stole any hopes for an optimistic future and left in its wake a bitter vision of unwanted loneliness. 

Toji Fushiguro wasn’t afraid of much, but now he would never again doubt that he was capable of feeling so.

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

5.5 Years Later 

Toji didn’t particularly like having to stop at the grocery store on his way home from work once he picked Megumi up from school. His normally even-keeled son had a penchant for acting up when it came to ensuring that his father put into their basket every sugar heavy, grease laden, and all around unhealthy snack upon his immediate request. Toji would spend the entire time fielding incessant demands while silently praying that he would be able to grab whatever assortment of items he needed for the next couple of days before Megumi descended into an even fouler mood than normal. 

So no, Toji had no intention of going to the store after spending the day at some nondescript high school with an absurdly long name that Megumi would one day attend. His threshold for tolerating tantrums was low after hours of offering his “legal” and “non-life threatening” expertise to a bunch of teenagers with attitudes equivalent to his five year old. Specifically, there was one white-haired punk with a big mouth that somehow managed to push all of his buttons, and by the end of every work day, Toji was eager to return to the sanctuary of his home. 

At least that had been his plan until Megumi opened his mouth. 

“Dad?” he questioned. Toji hummed an answer, but didn’t let his focus wander from the lull of the road in front of him. “Why do all the other kids have moms but I don’t?” 

Megumi’s words were spoken quietly, tentatively, but they struck Toji in the heart just as painfully as he always anticipated they would, and he suddenly wished he had taken the time to read a book or something in preparation for this day—the inevitable question. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Megumi was silent, but when Toji flicked his gaze to the rearview mirror, his son’s eyes were waiting and all too perceptive. 

“I…uhm.” 

Toji had to swallow once, twice, a third time to try and wet his tongue and force his throat to work, and by the time he felt he had composed himself enough, Megumi was peering around the side of his car seat to watch out the window. 

“Can we stop and get some snacks and ice cream instead?” 

Toji was in no state to deny him, so he flicked on his blinker with a resigned sigh. “Sure, why not?”

Twenty minutes later had him remembering “why not.” 

“Can we please go get that bag of chips now?” Megumi tugged on the leg of his pants for the fifth time in the last two minutes, and the edge of his voice was turning petulant. Toji was struggling to recall the list of groceries he had left on the side of the fridge, and as he scanned the wall of meat at the back of the store, he squinted in the lackluster hope that he could remember if he had scribbled “chicken” underneath “green onions.” 

“I said to give me a few more minutes, Megumi. We’ll go in second.” Toji curled his fists around the handle bar of the cart and he felt it reverberate when Megumi kicked at the wheel. “Do you remember if we had chicken in the freezer?” 

He looked down at his son who was already looking up at him with wide eyes, and Toji grunted as he took in the suspicious stains on his buttoned up black uniform, the one untied shoelace on his left foot, and then decided that despite Megumi’s unusual habits for a child his age, maybe assuming he would remember a random hunk of meat deep in the freezer was asking too much for a kid only halfway to six. 

“Now can we go get the chips?” 

Toji had to take in a deep breath and close his eyes to count to ten before feeling calm enough to answer. “Just give me a second. Please.” 

It was Megumi’s turn to huff, and he took a step away to spin in slow circles as Toji looked back at the meat selection. He took a minute to mumble through what he could remember from his list and then weighed the options of having to come back to the store if there wasn’t chicken in the freezer, or buying another pack anyway but then losing space if there did happen to be some already in there. Ultimately, Toji decided to just get another package of chicken and threw it into the cart. 

“Alright, Kid,” he said, angling his head to look over his shoulder at his son, “now we can—Megumi?” 

Toji cut off abruptly when he realized the space his son had previously occupied was now empty. He swiftly scanned the open floor of the store for that familiar spiky black hair, but could only see a few random parents and various elderly getting their weekly groceries. Toji figured Megumi had made haste for the chip aisle, but panic still quickened his heart nonetheless, and he hurried off to find him. 

“Megumi!” he whisper-shouted, trying to keep his voice low to be mindful of other patrons, but Toji was growing more nervous every time he leaned over the front of his cart to duck his head down an aisle, only to find it empty of his son. The kid had short legs and Toji’s back was only turned for a minute, but he was struggling to believe Megumi could vanish that quickly. 

“Megumi!” he said a little louder. He looked up at the indicator signs hanging at the end of each aisle, and when he caught a glimpse of the one containing the chips just two away, he lengthened his steps and opened his mouth to call for him again. 

“Alright, Megumi.” Toji heard a voice addressing his son before he was able to round the corner. “You promised me you would tell me what your dad looked like if I got the bag of chips for you off the top shelf. Now, let’s go find him, okay? I’m sure he’s worried about you.” 

When Toji did finally swerve his cart into the aisle, he was met with the sight of you squatted down in front of Megumi as he clutched a bag of chips to his chest. He could see your side profile, acknowledged how striking it was, and took in the heels on your feet and the fine-pressed material of your business clothes, but had little other attention for you before making sure his son was alright. Megumi caught sight of him first, and when he pointed at him you followed his finger, and Toji saw your eyes widen at his approach. He paid you no mind though, grateful when you had the sense to take a step back in order to not get in between a worried father and his child, and he wrapped his arms around Megumi when he crouched down in front of him. 

“What have we talked about, Megs?” Toji stressed. He released Megumi from where he had clutched him against his chest so he could look him in the eye. His tone wasn’t harsh, but it was stern in its urgency and firmness. “You don’t walk off without telling me, you hear? Don’t do that again.” 

The little boy nodded, and his head drooped slightly in response to being scolded. The sight of his downturned lips plucked at Toji’s frayed nerves, and he lifted a hand to ruffle Megumi’s hair in an attempt to soften the moment. 

The clicking of your heels had him noticing you again, and Toji looked up to see you leaning down to grab your basket, body already half-turned away from him, and he stood to his full height at the same time you straightened. 

“Thank you,” he said, and you went still. “I’m sorry if he inconvenienced you, but I appreciate you taking the time to help him.” Toji rubbed a hand against the back of his neck when your cheeks rounded into a friendly smile. 

“He was no trouble at all,” you said, and while your tone was kindly neutral, Toji didn’t doubt the genuineness of your words. “Megumi was very polite.” 

His son shuffled his feet when you turned your attention on to him, and Toji caught the tint of pink that flushed the back of his neck and ears. 

He chuckled and patted his shoulder gently. “Well, that’s good to hear.” He hesitated a moment, using the pause to further take in the style of your hair and the way your eyes twinkled under the harsh fluorescents of the grocery store, then held his hand out as he took a step forward. “I’m Toji.” 

You met his hand halfway, shaking it twice as you gave him your name, and when the two of you separated, there wasn’t quite as much distance between you as there had been moments ago. 

“I don’t think I would have had any trouble finding you,” you giggled, and though your voice was sweet and your eyes crinkled in something that maybe could’ve been flirtatious, Toji thought you looked just a bit shy in the way you rocked gently on your toes and held your basket down in front of your legs so you could bump it off your knees absentmindedly. 

You didn’t present yourself forwards to him or tilt your head in a way that was meant to entice, and while Toji couldn’t ignore how pretty you were or the way you had let your eyes quickly take in his height and the breadth of his shoulders (he didn’t think it was his imagination when you lingered on the scar in the corner of his mouth) he was grateful you maintained an air of simple friendliness.

You motioned towards Megumi with a flutter of your hand. “The resemblance is uncanny.” 

Toji hoped his answering grin wasn’t strained. There was no denying how similar he and Megumi looked, from the shared black hair and angled jaw to how he had been told that the two of them even scowled the same. It warmed his heart to know his son looked like him, but it also brought with it a strange sense of disappointment that he had to search so hard to find his late wife’s features since they were mostly obscured by his own. Toji wasn’t sure which way he would rather have it. Each sounded equally painful, to not notice her much at all in Megumi, or to be struck in the face with the ghost of her every time he looked at his son.

“Yeah,” Toji said, “so I’ve heard.” 

When your grin faltered slightly at the corners, Toji worried that he hadn’t done as good of a job concealing the hurt in his voice. You studied him a moment longer before your eyes darted over his shoulder and then off towards another aisle as one of your legs slid backwards. 

“I’ll, uh, let the two of you get going.” You smiled again at him and offered a small wave to Megumi from where he was mostly hidden behind his father’s legs. “It was nice to meet the both of you.” 

Toji nodded in agreement and Megumi sent back his own tiny shake of a hand before you each turned to go your separate ways. A little twinge in his chest made him wonder if he was missing out on something, but the window of opportunity already seemed to have passed. Once you were gone, Toji looked down at his son and tapped the top of his head to get his attention.

“I’ll let you push the cart, but you have to promise to never run off again, you hear me?” 

Megumi immediately whipped his head up to stare awe-struck at Toji as he awaited confirmation, and after a nod from his father, he scrambled to get in between Toji and the cart, hands up and fingers just barely curling around the handle. Toji offered some guidance, but for the most part, he let his son do the work as they finished gathering the last of their items. 

All in all, the rest of the trip remained uneventful, and Toji even felt a modicum more confident in grocery store endeavors as he directed Megumi to turn towards the checkout area at the end of the last aisle. That was until, in his eagerness, Megumi yanked the cart abruptly around the corner without bothering to check if anyone was approaching and promptly rammed the opposite end into your legs when you appeared from the other side. 

Toji wanted to die a little as he watched you teeter on your heels while you flailed a hand out to regain your balance, and he was too far away to be able to close the distance in enough time to stabilize you, no matter how much he wanted to. However, in an impressive feat of gracefulness, you managed to right yourself at the last moment, grasping the edge of their cart with the hand that wasn’t holding your own basket. 

“Megumi,” Toji growled through his teeth, slowly enunciating every syllable of his name, and the little boy actually looked chagrined for once. 

“I’m alright,” you reassured him, laughter catching the tail end of your words, and Megumi scattered between his father’s legs when you grinned down at him. “It’s nice to run into you again, Megumi.” 

Toji dragged a palm down his face and embarrassment made the back of his neck feel hot. “I’m so sorry. Again.” 

“Really,” you insisted, “it’s okay.” You couldn’t lie and convince yourself that you weren’t glad to run into the cute little boy with an undeniably attractive father. But, even though there wasn’t a wedding ring on Toji’s finger, it didn’t mean there wasn’t a woman waiting for them at home, and that was enough to keep your behavior completely platonic. 

With the realization that the three of you stood in the middle of the walkway staring at one another, you glanced down at their cart and then off to the right where the checkout was before turning back to them and tossing your hand back in that general direction. 

“Are you guys ready to checkout? There’s a lane open at the end.” 

The three of you ended up in line together behind another customer who had managed to sneak in right before you got there, but it allowed for conversation to flow. You learned that Toji was an instructor at a school just outside the city and that Megumi was in his first year of kindergarten. The boy took a liking to animals, and when you asked about Toji’s hobbies while you paid for your groceries, he only shrugged, but Megumi had chosen that moment to speak up for him. 

“He likes to play with cards and money.” His voice rang loud and clear in the space of the store. Your face lit up in surprise and maybe just a hint of wariness, and Toji nearly dropped the pack of chicken he’d been loading onto the register. Even the employee in front of you three sniggered until Toji cut his eyes towards him. 

He’d have to be a lot more careful about what he joked with Shiu about on the phone when he thought Megumi wasn’t listening. 

“He means Monopoly, like board games or something,” Toji rushed out, and he didn’t think he sounded very convincing, but you didn’t ask for clarification and he caught you stifling a laugh as you turned to grab your groceries. He used the chance of your back being to them to pin Megumi with an exasperated grimace, but the boy was too proud of himself to care. 

“If you want,” Toji offered, taking note of the bags you held in both hands while you stood waiting for them at the end of the cash register, “you can put your stuff in our cart and we’ll take it out. An apology for almost running you over.” He felt a little ridiculous when you cocked your head in consideration, wondering if what he said was out of turn, but it vanished when you set your things at the front of their cart with a smile. 

“I’d appreciate it.” 

He followed out after you, just barely remembering to grab his receipt from the cashier who somehow had the gall to waggle his eyebrows at him, but Toji pointedly ignored the gesture. 

Once outside, he lifted Megumi into the cart to keep him contained while he helped you load your groceries into your car. While the two of you made light conversation, the same nagging feeling that something was about to slip through his fingers itched at the back of his mind. However, Toji had no idea what to do about it. At least, not while Megumi sat watching the two of you, and he certainly couldn’t ask you to wait until after he got his son into his car two lanes over while under the heat of July.

In the end, nothing happened, and Toji was caught off guard by the disappointment he felt when he and Megumi finally got themselves situated in the car. It stayed with him as he drove and tried to keep up with whatever Megumi was chattering about. It plagued him with the images of your smile and what your face might have looked like if he had managed to ask for your phone number. Disappointment had Toji realizing with a shake of his head that he wanted to ask for your phone number because he had wanted to see you again, and that hadn’t happened with a woman—despite the opportunities—since meeting his late wife. It sat heavy in his gut, and he figured it would ease away on its own in however much time it took him to forget about you.

At least, that’s what Toji had thought until he realized that the car that just turned in front of his onto his street was newly familiar and currently parking in front of a house across the road and two doors down from his. He quickly did the same and stepped out of his car with bated breath. You emerged out of yours a second later, and this time he raised his hand in greeting. 

“You live here,” he called as you crossed the street and came to a stop at the edge of his small driveway. If Toji hadn’t been so stupefied by the turn of events, maybe something a little more eloquent would have come out of his mouth.

“For about a week now,” you told him, glancing back at his door as if you were waiting for something. Toji realized that he’d been so busy with work the last couple days that he hadn’t really paid any attention to the comings and goings of any of his neighbors, because surely he wouldn’t have missed you otherwise. “The house was left by a distant family member, but I didn’t have any use for it until my job transferred me here last month.”

“Oh, well, this is ours,” he said, gesturing backwards to his own home. “It’s just me and Megumi.” Toji saw your eyes flash with what he thought was interest, and maybe you confirmed it when you took a couple steps closer to lean against the tail end of his car.

“I guessed that was the case when you got out. You don’t seem like the type to follow home a woman you just met.” You arched one of your eyebrows playfully. “At least not with your son in the car.” 

That got a chuckle out of him, and Toji shrugged nonchalantly. “Not anymore, no.” 

Tentative excitement skittered over his spine when a laugh popped out of your mouth unbidden, and even though you tried to hide it with your hand and turned your head towards your house to shake it in amused disbelief, Toji still spied the way you peeked at him from the corner of your eye. 

“Well,” you said, a little breathless, “I’m going home to make dinner. Have a good evening, neighbor.” The fingers of your right hand wiggled in his direction as you spun around to walk back to your house, and Toji fought to clear the grin he felt stretching the scarred skin of his lip as he opened the car door and ducked inside to grab Megumi. 

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

Over the next month or so, most of Toji’s interactions with you remained frustratingly surface level. You’d holler a greeting to him on the mornings you saw him carrying a struggling Megumi to the car, already ten minutes late and praying his son had a pair of matching shoes on. He could do nothing but shout back as you got into your own car to leave for work. Other times, he’d wave at you as he drove to the store while you stood out watering the few pots of flowers sitting by your door. Once, when you had arrived home from work a little later in the day than normal, you had walked over to say ‘hello’ when you saw him and Megumi outside tossing a baseball. You hadn’t bothered going inside to change out of your slacks and blouse, and Toji had been thoroughly impressed when you ended up being able to chase a ball around with them while still in your heels. 

Ultimately, Toji hadn’t quite decided if you’d react reciprocatively to him or not if he just showed up with a knock on your door to ask you out or get your phone number or any other romantic-adjacent task that he would surely end up making a fool out of himself with should he do it. In an effort to ensure he didn’t irreparably damage a perfectly good neighborly relationship, he refrained from doing anything more than exchanging smiles and conversation when the two of you came into contact with each other. Toji was determined to wait for a bit more interest on your end before he committed to doing anything. 

Alas, in the late morning of a Friday that just so happened to be a government holiday, meaning there wasn’t a job for the two of you to go to, Toji caught sight of you staring up at some wooden decoration that sat at the top pitch of your house’s entryway. He and Megumi had just stepped outside to play. There was a bucket of dark stain sitting next to your foot, and you had a paint brush in hand to go with the shorts and ratty t-shirt you had on. 

Never one to miss an obvious opportunity, Toji grabbed Megumi by the hand and walked him down the street to your house. Once he was close enough, he called out to grab your attention. 

“Need help with that?” 

You spun around abruptly, clearly caught unaware by him (Toji suspected that had more to do with something on his part than yours), but you smiled bashfully nonetheless as you glanced at him and then back to the spot above your door. “I didn’t think so originally, but it seems a lot higher up now that I actually look at it.” 

When you glanced back at him, your eyes were beseeching and your lip was snagged between your teeth, and Toji knew in that second you could’ve gotten away with asking him anything you wanted to. 

He smirked and gave you a nod of his head to confirm his assistance. After a quick discussion about where your ladder was—only to find out you didn’t have one—and a trip back to his house so Toji could grab the one there, he was up and brushing the stain to the wood as you and Megumi observed from below. 

“I really do appreciate it,” you told him, eyeing the way a muscle in his arm flexed with every stroke of the brush. “I think I would’ve had trouble reaching it, even after I would have had to go buy a ladder to do it.” 

His chuckle drifted down to you and the depth of it was exceedingly pleasant to your ears. Movement from behind you forced your gaze from Toji, and you looked back to check on Megumi as he wandered off to peer curiously at your potted flowers. When you decided the little boy was probably harmless to the defenseless flowers, you turned back to Toji and nearly choked on your tongue at the picture he made. 

He was up on the tips of his toes with his arm extended in order to reach the top section of wood he needed to, and the movement lifted up the hem of his black t-shirt. You couldn’t help but take in the pale strip of skin now exposed, nor could you ignore the sharp angles of Toji’s hips and the trail of black hair that ran down under his belly button and disappeared into his pants. As your study took you upwards, you noticed how sweat made the fabric cling to every dip of muscle in his chest, and for the first time in your life, you came to the realization that sometimes more clothing could be just as sensuous as the lack thereof. 

Belatedly, you became aware of how hard you were staring (ogling) him, and you wrenched your focus off his torso to somewhere safer, this time his face. However, to your absolute mortification, Toji already had his eyes on you, and based on the way the green of them gleamed in mischievousness, you knew he had caught you. With your skin suddenly flashing both hot and cold, you sputtered an excuse about getting Megumi a drink before fleeing for the sanctuary of your kitchen, but not before you snatched the little boy’s wrist on the way in to drag him with you. You ignored the way you heard Toji cackling from all the way from inside.

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

At the beginning of autumn, about three months after moving into your new home, the weather had begun to cool down enough that you could open your windows in the afternoon. You sang to yourself as you fixed a snack in your kitchen, and the neighborhood had been quiet enough that nothing had yet disturbed your relaxing Saturday. 

That remained true until a light knock at your front door echoed in your kitchen. You set down the fruit you were cutting in favor of grabbing a towel to wipe your hands on and then hurried to the front door. You paused briefly at the mirror in your hallway to ensure you looked presentable in case a certain dad with the clearest green eyes you had ever seen happened to be on the other side. When you did answer the door, it was indeed a Fushiguro, but one of a much smaller stature than his father.

You weren’t necessarily a stranger to them anymore. Since moving in, when you or them happened to be outside at the same time, you usually ended up chatting or playing ball or something equally mundane when your schedules allowed for it. Toji had spent an afternoon repairing a gaping hole in your fence a couple weeks after staining the wood above your door—you very intentionally made sure to keep your eyes neck-level and above that time around—and you had knocked on their door one Sunday to deliver a plate of homemade cookies after you had watched Megumi sprain his ankle playing outside the day prior. 

So no, it wasn’t quite out of the realm of possibility for a little boy with hair that seemed to defy gravity to appear at your door, but you couldn’t say you had been expecting it to happen either, especially not without his father in tow.

“Hi, Megumi,” you greeted, looking down at him as he scuffed his feet shyly against your welcome mat. “Is everything alright?”

He nodded, not saying anything for a moment before blurting out, “do you have any snacks?”

The question caught you off guard, and you leaned forward out your door to check and see that Toji’s car was still in the driveway. “I certainly do, but is your dad not home?” You obviously weren’t a parent yourself yet, but even you knew that five and half years old was still too young for a child to be left home alone. 

“He is,” Megumi said flatly, and his nose scrunched in disdain. “But he fell asleep on the couch and I’m hungry.” 

You muffled a snort of surprise against your palm and stepped aside to let the little boy in. “I’m happy to share a snack with you, Megumi, but we need to let your dad know where you are.” You considered what to do for a moment as you led him to your kitchen. 

“Do you know his phone number? I’ll call and let him know you’re here.”

 Megumi only shook his head.

“Okay, well…why don’t you sit at the table and eat a couple pieces of fruit, but then I’m taking you back home.” 

He seemed content with your answer and quickly made his way to the table to scramble into a chair as you brought a plate of fruit to him. You were about to ask him how his day had been when you heard a door slam through your window, followed by Toji bellowing Megumi’s name. 

The two of you shared a startled look, both of you now anticipating a possible scolding, and you spun around to dash out your front door. When you made it a couple steps outside, Toji was looking down the sidewalk in your opposite direction.

“Toji!” you called. He whipped his head in your direction and your heart broke at the franticness of his features. “He’s here! He’s okay!” 

His shoulders fell in relief, and as he started to cross the street with those long strides of his, it occurred to you that Toji wasn’t wearing anything other than a pair of grey sweats on his lower half. He was all toned muscle and smooth skin, and between his towering height and the grim set of his mouth, you weren’t sure if you were more intimidated by him or attracted to him, though perhaps those went hand in hand at times like this.

As he strode up your driveway, a small squeak left your mouth and you stumbled back a step to try and maintain the distance Toji was eating up. “I’m sorry, he got here only five minutes ago and I was going to come get—,” 

You were cut off when he lowered himself down to encircle your shoulders with his arms and brought you into his chest for a hug that seemed like it was more for his benefit than yours. You could see just a sliver of what was behind him from over the top of his shoulder and when your hands landed on his back, you were shocked at the heat that radiated off of him. He smelled faintly of some generic shampoo, but it managed to be thrilling nonetheless, and you noted how firm he felt in every point of contact between your bodies. When Toji pulled away—entirely too soon in your opinion—his face was full of gratitude. 

“Thank you,” he said, and sincerity coated every word. If the suddenness of his body against yours hadn’t spiked your heart rate, then the emotion in his voice and the way his eyes stayed locked on yours certainly did. 

“Oh, no,” you insisted, waving your hands between the two of you, “there’s nothing to thank me for! I’m sorry I didn’t let you know sooner and made you worry. I was going to call you, but Megumi didn’t know your phone number and I don’t have it—,” 

Toji’s head jerked back slightly. You flushed hot and hoped you hadn’t sounded disappointed at the fact. 

“Anyways, Megumi just wanted a snack and said you had fallen asleep on the couch, so I guess he decided to come over here.” You were out of breath by the time you finished your rushed explanation, and the only thing that brought you any relief was the fact that Toji’s cheeks blushed the faintest shade of pink as he pinched at the back of his neck. 

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he said sheepishly. “I worked late last night and must’ve drifted off while the kid was watching cartoons.” 

His words brought your attention to his face and it was then that you noticed the way the skin under his eyes bruised purple just the slightest, and Toji did indeed look like he needed a nap. 

“It’s no trouble for Megumi to hang out here if you need a break. I’m happy to help,” you offered, dipping your chin and smiling at him.

The circumstances regarding Megumi’s mother hadn’t been told to you yet, and because you didn’t feel the need to pry, you hadn’t asked about it. However, it didn’t take knowing all the details for you to surmise that Toji had been doing the single-father business for most—if not all—of Megumi’s life thus far. 

Astonishment made Toji’s eyebrows jump, but he agreed to the idea after another second and then reached deep into his pocket to fish for something. 

“Here,” he said, holding his phone out to you once he pulled it free from the fabric of his pants. “I meant to do this a while ago.” 

Your heart skipped a beat as you took Toji’s phone from his hand and typed your number into it. When you were finished, you made a call to your own phone, and when your ringtone flowed from the kitchen out the window, Toji’s mouth turned upwards in satisfaction. 

Megumi appeared a moment later to just barely peek his head around your door. Apprehension made his movements slow, and when he caught Toji’s eye, his father’s face darkened. 

“Come ‘ere,” Toji grumbled, waving his hand at his son to beckon him forward. Megumi shuffled out begrudgingly, and you yearned to give the boy a hug, but you figured it wasn’t your place to intervene. Twice now Megumi had snuck out from his father’s (not so) watchful eye, and you had a feeling Toji was about to ensure it didn’t happen again. 

Toji swooped Megumi up into his arm to carry him against his side like a football, and after wishing you their goodbyes, they made their way back across the street. A feeling of joy left by the two of them followed you back into your house, and you made sure to add to your shopping list the brand of chips Megumi had requested your help reaching the first time you had met him.

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

A/N: Luckily, 90% of this entire story is already written out, so I plan to have it all posted by the end of the week.

If you read this pile of self-indulgence, thank you very much <3

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Four

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors note: I’m here:) finally. It’s been a while, idk how long, not that long but long enough i guess, sorry for the wait! This one is wordy but also has a lot going on, so hope you enjoy!

Ngl, this can probably be read as a standalone if anyone’s seeing this and not started the series, it’s just a bit angsty and mostly smut? But unsure, I said probably! X

Warnings: Arguing, usual Matty and Mouse thinking (feels like it needs its own warning at this point, they’re saddos), smut, unprotected sex, EMOTIONS (because yeah)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

There was something raw in the bitterness that was love. Like the sour skin of an apple that was first thought to be sweet. Love was deceiving in itself really, but it was never alone. It brought life and light. It wrought anger. It stirred both jealousy and pity. It gave and gave, until all you were left with was that tart tang aftertaste. 

Some people revelled in it.

Others, withered away.

Years before, perhaps maybe not even that long ago now, Matty would have belonged to the former. He had enjoyed the strings he found that could tie him to people, sex and money had given him the ability to do it, to keep them there, to pull them alongside him. And he’d indulged in it all, beyond what most would consider extortionate. 

And still, even after everything, when the fun had ended and the games had been discarded, and he’d just been tossed off somewhere to the side… Alone once more. He had continued on. On and on and on, until he ultimately had lost himself completely.

The last few months had shifted something in him though.

And now here he was, still angry and bitter and resentful. But full of actual love. The raw type. The kind that left you marvelling at the most stupid things— insipid little concepts that held no actual value or any real detail worth getting all starry-eyed over.

It had wormed its way into the hollow shell that was his heart and rebuilt some part of him that he believed he had long since destroyed.

He wanted to scoff at the very thought. The very idea that an emotion could be felt so strongly that it differed the world around you; that, singularly, it could change you. The notion was far too complex, too out there to even begin to fathom, but then again, Matty supposed that emotions were exactly that. Complex.

It sent his mind reeling. Had his entire body aching with a fever to expel the feeling completely, if only so that he could think freely again, so it wouldn’t hurt to merely breathe anymore.

You should have told me.

He knew that. He had admitted as much.

And yet, he still hadn’t told her.

He’d lied.

Why didn’t you tell me?

And that was the question, wasn’t it? Why hadn’t he just told her?

Fear, he guessed.

Yet another morbid emotion in which Matty had always been so wary of. Another lost feeling he thought he’d swallowed whole and hidden somewhere deep down. Because there was no fear in a drug induced haze. When you were off partying or chasing some other euphoric high. What the fuck was there to be fearful of? When the chilling buzz which shook you to your very core blanketed over everything else.

When there was always that silence.

That numb quiet he had chased and craved and cherished.

Though, he supposed, it was nothing compared to the fear of losing this.

Of losing her.

Still, Matty could not for the life of him find it in himself to tell her exactly that. Those words lost on him, lodged in the column of his throat and etching themselves a home there.

“Where do we go from here?”

He blinked at the sound of his own voice, looking up at her shadowed expression and at how tired she then seemed. How different she now looked compared to the moment they’d first met. 

She’d been something of a presence even then. Always effortlessly complex. With her soft smile and guarded eyes. Eyes he’d gone and fucking wondered about for hours on end.

Those eyes which were now caught on the far wall stood opposite, the one lined with coloured photo frames and that odd little doodle Teddy had gotten in trouble for only a couple of weeks prior. 

The realisation made Matty mourn the few days they’d spent apart.

After a long moment, she finally shrugged at him and he found himself swallowing tightly at the movement. Startled by her seeming lack of care. 

“I don’t want to lose you, Squeaks.” 

It was honest. As honest as he could be.

She huffed an amused breath in return though, “Not like you’re short on company, Matty.”

He felt his gaze snap up to meet hers then, head shifting with it. 

“What’s that even meant to mean?” He asked her, frowning now, at the way she had crossed her arms over her chest and how her shoulders had hunched on their own accord whilst she casually moved to glance out the window. Matty forced himself up onto his feet, hating the fact she had turned away from him.

“I saw everything, Matty.” Mouse replied tiredly, as though she was fed up, fed up with this, with them. “I saw the articles.”

Matty’s stomach bottomed out at her words, he stepped towards her. “Nothing happened.” He murmured, taking another step closer. “Nothing fucking happened, Squeaks. I swear it.”

She tensed but didn’t quite flinch at his sudden approach, so he kept a little distance between them, even as desperate as he was to hold her. To shake her enough so that she would see sense, that she’d realise how stupid he would have had to have been to have gone near anyone else. That girl was no one, she’d meant nothing. 

“You can swear that, can you?” She mocked him, one corner of her mouth toying with a merciless smile that didn’t quite suit her. “You were gone, Matty. Fucking out of it. That much was clear to see just from the photos alone.”

Matty stared at her helplessly.

She shook her head.

“I’d had a couple drinks. That isn’t a crime!” He stressed, automatically falling onto the defensive, “Didn’t mean I was stupid enough to get with the first person I fucking saw! That girl- she was off her head too. Had mates with her even! But she was just trying to help me, Mouse. That’s all it was.” 

She was shaking her head again now, tongue catching on her incisor; a dead giveaway to how stressed she was, how anxious she was getting. Matty only wished to shoulder it all, that defensiveness of his faltering slightly at the sight of her trying to hide it all. To stay strong. How fucking long had she had to do that?

“I feel like such a fool, Matty.” She finally spoke, her voice trembling with the onslaught of tears that glazed her eyes but she didn’t dare let fall. “A fucking fool. ‘Cause I’d thought that things were okay, that we were okay. That I could finally relax and let you in. But then-“ She paused, a sad huff leaving her, “Then you went and dropped this mess in my lap and somehow expected me to just deal with it. To tell you it’s all fine. That we could make it right.”

Mouse turned then, ever so slowly, looking about as defeated as Matty had ever seen her. He felt his chest burn with the last breath he hadn’t remembered taking let alone hold onto, too afraid to look away, to even move. 

“But you embarrassed me. You’ve made the whole world believe I am that fool. That I was as naive as they’d first made me out to be. As my friends thought me to be.” 

Her smile was shattered and broken, her voice wet and hoarse, but she continued on even as her hands fell limply to her sides and she took a single step closer.

“And to make things worse, you didn’t just hurt me, Matty. You hurt Teddy too.”

–

Hit them where it hurts.

That was the saying, wasn’t it?

But it only left me feeling all the more sour- gutless. As well as a little stupid, I supposed, wondering if Matty even cared for Teddy at all, or how he had felt the last couple days.

Though I shouldn’t have second guessed it, not when the way Matty’s face immediately paled and then fell proved me wrong. 

Deep down, I knew that he cared. In his own odd way he had always cared. But to know it and to see it were two entirely different things.

And although it was true, that Matty had in fact hurt Teddy. It still felt like a shitty thing to say to him then. But he’d hurt me as well, hadn’t he. And even though I’d been hurting most of my life, Matty being the reason for all that hurt pained me in a way I couldn’t even comprehend. 

“I didn’t-”

I scoffed at his attempted reply, but my heart wasn’t in it, breaking all over again. I wondered how long we could drag this out. If we even would.

“Mean to?” I finished for him, shaking my head stupidly. “I know you didn’t mean to, Matty. Doesn’t change the fact that you still did it.”

His eyes slipped closed just as his lips fell apart, and when he opened them again I was stuck staring into his devastated gaze. 

“If I could take it all back, I would.” He breathed, “I promise you I would.”

I swallowed back my own tears, even as they burned and pricked at my throat and eyes. “But you can’t.”

And it was as simple as that, wasn’t it? He couldn’t ever take it back. 

I don’t want to lose you.

He knew just how to get under my skin, past all that rusted armour of mine.

It was what made this all so much harder. 

“Tell me what to do, Squeaks.” Matty croaked pleadingly, hand reaching out towards me before he looked down at it, blinked, and then let it fall. “I’ll do it, just– tell me.”

What was left that he could do? When it felt like things had so suddenly and so horrifically fallen out from under us.

“I don't know.” I told him honestly, in a barely there whisper, “I just don't know, Matty.”

He stepped even closer then, hand moving to capture my jaw in a determined haste, not restraining himself like he had just moments before. I tried to pull away, titling my chin and looking off to the side as I clenched my teeth, but his thumb was there, luring me back in, forcing me to meet his eye.

“I’m not just gonna give up.” His other hand jumped to cradle my face, a cushion to those heated words. 

I was reluctant in my needless wanting, desperate to be held whilst simultaneously wanting to push him away. So I lifted my hands up to cover his own, unsure of the choice they’d make. To stay, or go.

“It’s not about that, Matty.” I heard myself say pathetically, voice wavering with each word, “You can’t just forget this.”

His dark eyes were trained on me, flickering over every square inch of my scarred face. I’d never felt insecure about them when I was around him, but this moment felt too heated, too high strung. And I’d been burning the candle at both ends the last few days, so with him being this close, this intense, every emotion I’d felt was brimming closer and closer to the surface. 

Instead of facing him, I turned away, hiding once more as I worked my jaw and felt my hands slip down to the backs of his forearms.

A shared breath and then,

“Don’t do that.” Matty whispered in the quiet, almost begging. “Don’t hide from me.”

His thumb smoothed over the skin of my cheek and I was all but putty in hands, looking back at him just as a tear escaped me and slid to meet the pad of it. 

Matty brushed the tear away without thought, before he leant in to rest his forehead against my own. The action forced me to cling tighter to his arms, eyes closing to keep from embarrassing myself any further. I wouldn’t cry. 

I wouldn’t cry.

“Look at me.” He demanded, nose so close that I could practically sense its phantom touch. And foolishly, I did as he asked. “You-” His breath stuttered as his eyes pleaded with me, sounding forced as it broke free from him, his fingers making a home for themselves in my hair. 

“You don’t know what you do to me. How much of a mess I’ve made of myself. How much I have missed you.” Matty confessed, his voice quiet in the small space shared between us, in a place where we were both sheltered and unseen. “And I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry. Enough that I’ll keep on repeating it until you fucking believe me. Enough that I’d do just about anything for you to see how much I want this.”

He sucked in a breath, and I blinked back at him, lips tingling with the sensation of his proximity. 

“I know I messed up. I know.” He repeated, eyes flickering back and forth between my own whilst his thumbs trailed the line of my hair. “But all I’m asking for is a chance to make it right. To be better. Squeaks, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat if I could.”

His breath was tickling the skin of my cheek as well as the corner of my mouth, it almost made it difficult to think let alone remember how to breathe. I wanted–

Suddenly my eyes were looking down, focused on his parted mouth, on the stubble he’d let grow across the cut of his chin as well as his upper lip. His nose finally brushed past my own, touching ever so carefully as one or both of us pressed nearer, almost there, inching closer but not close enough.

“Tell me no.” 

Instantly, I was thrown back to that first night he kissed me. I hadn’t told him no then, and for some reason I couldn’t find it in me to decline him now. 

So instead I took, all but biting as my hand cradled the back of his neck and closed that short amount of distance between us. My nails dug into the exposed skin of his nape, where the collar of his shirt jumped with each move he made. My teeth nipped at his lower lip, angry in my attempt to swallow him whole, teeth clashing as we both stumbled, moving and moving until Matty’s back hit the nearest wall.

How the roles had reversed, I thought to myself as Matty’s shoulders flexed beneath his shirt and jumped under my ever roaming hands. I hated the desire that it stirred through me, knowing how easily he could take back control with his carefully contained strength. But he didn’t, instead he gave my fury something to latch onto.

My hand lifted to pin one of his wrists somewhere to the left of his head, glare not wavering even as his stubborn gaze met my own. He was as riled up as me.

“You have some nerve.” I all but spat, watching on as his chest rose and fell, questioning how quickly everything had switched.

“Yeah?” Matty bit back, those familiar brown eyes- a colour that had always brought me comfort- were blazing now as they trailed over the flush that I was sure lined my face. “Why’s that? You’re the one with me pinned, darlin’.” 

His heavy gaze traced the bow of my lip, slumping ever slightly in his stance so that his head could fall closer forward. My breath hitched.

That was all he needed apparently, to earn the upper hand here. Because in a moment, the room was spinning and then I was the one being crowded against the wall, fury be damned.

Contrary to my previous endeavour, Matty’s touch was still as careful as ever, making it that much more obvious that I could slip away if I so wanted. But the question was whether or not I did.

“Matty–”

But he just carried on, as though he hadn’t even heard me speak, voice a low breathy murmur. 

“I’ve been stuck in this endless loop. Driving myself mad.” He told me, his knee angled enough so that he could let his head dip towards the juncture of my neck, his mouth pausing by the shell of my ear whilst a finger gently trailed its way up over my hip. “Wonderin’ if I’d lost this for good.”

My heart pounded in my chest as the ghost of his words tickled my skin, tensing when his nose ever so slightly grazed my jaw. 

That finger of his continued to move, working its way up my torso, jumping across my ribs and up to the bone of my collar. My gaze was fixed on the opposing wall, on the mirror that framed my dazed face and the back of his head. My hand worked its way into his unruly curls.

“But you’re as stubborn as me, see.” Matty added, luring me in, “And I’m not the type to give up on a sure thing.” His words held enough bite that I snapped back to meet his stare, he tilted his head at me whilst I scowled.

“Excuse me?”

Matty smiled, lids heavy as his careful hand danced its way back down my front. 

“And this,” He said, almost in a whisper, ignoring my retort as he hooked my leg around his waist, “This is a sure thing.”

A soft breath escaped me even as I batted his hand away, but he simply reached up to grip at my chin, touch tender even with the way his calloused thumb dragged down my lower lip.

I was slowly beginning to imagine that this was all a dream, something my sick mind had gone and conjured up in hopes to ignore all of the hurt he had put me through. Because this couldn’t be right, things couldn’t have fallen back into place this easily. 

“Matty.” I tried again, firmer this time, but was captured by the look his eyes held, probably having understood the expression that must have just crossed my face.

“What did you do, Squeaks?” He asked me almost hurriedly, shaking my chin between his forefinger and thumb, my previous anger and doubt melting slightly as I leaned further into his touch. “Did you want me to hurt, too?”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question, his swift change in topic. Baffled by the fact that he was now trying to pin this back on me. 

Was that really what this was? I wanted to ask.

Matty didn’t give me the opportunity to say a thing though. My surprise had stalled me briefly, but it had evidently been long enough to allow him to simply carry on.

“What did you do, eh? Tell me.” He breathed before he pressed his mouth to my jaw, once and then twice, pulling away just as I tilted my head to accommodate him, “Did you go out, baby? Find somebody else? Or did you just stay here, waiting for me?”

I reeled back, anger spiking again. “Fuck you.”

Matty’s eyes flickered back and forth between mine. 

“I’m trying to get you to.” He said, always so brazen and snarky, even in the moments where I hated him most. The hand I had previously slapped away went back to the leg he still had draped over his hip, snaking up over my knee and to my thigh. 

My glare didn’t waiver, even as my breathing picked up at the pressure his fingertips wrought on my skin. 

“Tell me no.” He finally repeated, eyes failing to meet mine. And how was I supposed to? When having him this close brought back that fire he’d put out in me, when he was kissing my neck so sweetly?

“We’ll regret it.” It was as close to a no as I could get, enough to have him pause. Matty looked to me then, his hold loosening on my body but still holding. Hoping.

“Do you care?”

I marvelled at the question, did I care?

I cared so much it pained me.

But he hadn’t meant it like that. That much I knew.

Do you care if you regret it? Because, what if you don’t? 

With Matty there was always chance– he was the type to play the odds, to push his luck.

What if.

What if, what if, what if?

Shaking my head, I was forced to question if he understood me as much as I did him. If he could see each of my thoughts just as they dawned on me, flashing across my face like a story being told. 

Then I wondered whether or not I even wanted him to understand. This, this thing we were doing would only further complicate things between us, but perhaps this could be a goodbye.

But, if this was a goodbye, why was he looking at me like that? Watching and waiting for me to truly answer.

Tell me no, he’d said.

Matty’s gaze swept over my face, as though trying to read me, maybe in hopes to find what it was he was really searching for. 

Tell me no.

“Please.”

And my resolve broke at the word.

“Okay.” I heard myself say in reply, nodding quickly, and that was seemingly all the permission he needed before Matty was wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me towards him fully.

My hands floundered momentarily before they were back on his shoulders, his teeth nipping at my neck. 

I moaned, eyes falling shut as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down my skin, teeth scraping before his tongue swirled to soothe their angry ambush. I could smell him everywhere now, the shampoo I was so used to stealing, as well as the only aftershave he’d ever claimed to like.

His hips rolled into mine, pressing himself right against the fabric of my trousers and the underwear which had grown damp during our heated argument. 

I didn’t want to linger too long on the thought of my body’s obvious betrayal, too caught up in him to think about how wrong this should all feel.

“Shit.” Matty groaned, breath catching with it as he continued to grind against me.

I gasped back, grabbing at him harder as he bit down on the curve of my neck. I nipped at his jaw in retaliation, nails digging into the skin of his back, hoping to leave a mark.

“I knew you’d miss me.” He grunted into the base of my throat, the hands which held my waist dipping beneath the hem of my shirt to explore further. “Even when you’re angry you’ll wait. ‘Cause no one else can touch like me.”

A whine bypassed my lips almost involuntarily as he continued to rut against me, I wanted to be angry- no, in fact, I was angry. But all emotion other than want was blurring at the edges of my mind now, being pushed further and further back by each eager kiss he peppered along my jaw.

“You really–” I jerked in surprise, cutting myself off with a short gasp when his hand slipped past the hem of my trousers, fingers pressing against the damp fabric he found there. 

“What was that?” He provoked, and I could hear the smirk in his voice as he trailed over my covered clit, causing me to whimper before I was biting down on my lower lip. Matty didn’t like that much. “Come on, I wanna hear you.” He muttered, pressing a little harder, wanting a reaction. “Tell me.”

“You’re such a bastard.” I panted, head falling against his shoulder as my hips pushed further into his touch, seeking more.

Matty laughed, all breathy and lovely, mouth catching on the lobe of my ear before he hissed, “Yeah, but you like that about me.”

His hand was gone with that and I was almost tempted to ask, to even plead with him for its return, aching all the more now, enough that all I could think about was riding his fingers until I couldn’t think at all. 

But then Matty was grabbing my waist again, his grip hard, firm, and I swallowed when he whispered into my ear once more.

“Jump.”

Without thinking, I jumped. 

We collided, his mouth on mine and the two of us moving as though it was second nature. And in a way, it was. But it shouldn’t have been. I knew that. I tried to remind myself of it. 

He shouldn’t be here.

But he was. Walking his way through my flat with ease, effortlessly missing each sharp corner and the miniscule step which led back into the hallway. He was blind, my hands in his hair as he manoeuvred us into my bedroom, throwing me down onto sheets that he’d never seen, let alone slept in. 

I tugged him down with me, his hands moving to unbutton those fucking jeans he always wore as he worked his way back into my mouth. 

He hovered over me after kicking them off, my head pressed to the pillows as his eyes roamed every inch of my face. “Beautiful.” He whispered, as though he hadn’t really meant to say the word aloud.

My breath hitched anyway but Matty paid it no mind, leaning in closer to kiss me again, slower this time around, though his hands were still quick, tugging at the hem of my top enough so that I got the hint. I lifted myself up, breaking away to take it off and toss it to the side. 

Matty kissed his way down my neck again, following the trail of scars down my torso until his fingers paused to hook around the top of my trousers. I nodded at his silent ask, planting my feet a little firmer on the mattress so that they could follow my tee.

Matty stopped then, kneeling between my parted thighs, eyes caught on the panties I was wearing, and I could swear something in his gaze shifted as he stared down at me. 

“Lace?” He murmured, fingers curling around my thighs tight enough to bruise as he pushed forward, closer to my face. “Really?”

It was a loaded question. Almost felt like an accusation.

I shrugged– I hadn’t meant to end up here, but it hadn’t been subconscious when I’d picked them out of the pile this morning. He liked the way they looked, had told me so one night spent at his when he’d talked me into smoking a couple joints with him sprawled out on his living room floor. 

I opened my mouth to reply but Matty didn’t quite catch the motion, already busying himself with the task of pulling the lace down my thighs. His fingers, calloused from years of playing guitar, dragged alongside the black material rolling down my legs. I tensed at the feeling, zeroing in on the slow motion, then listened to him groan at the sight before they were gone completely.

I watched him pull away, balling the damp fabric up in a fist before leaning over the side of the bed to drop them on top of his jeans. 

“A souvenir?” I couldn’t help but question, mostly out of mirth, but humour helped deflect from the weight I felt at having him here.

Matty hummed, fingers already back on me, trailing the length of my right leg before he was stretching his way back up again, head stopping between my parted thighs and nosing at a crease sat at the very top. He didn’t answer me though, instead choosing to shut me up with another gasp by dragging his thumb across my folds.

“Matty.”

“Hm?” He hummed again, having sat back on his heels to watch me squirm as he continued on. I shot him a rather annoyed glare.

“Take off your shirt and fuck me.” 

His brows rose languidly when he flicked his eyes back up to meet mine, then tilted his head. “But I’m having so much fun.”

With a swift kick to his side, Matty’s hand fell away and he shook his head around the beginnings of a smile. “Always so demanding.” He tutted and before I could spit something back– probably about him being the biggest hypocrite I knew– he was placing his hands either side of my head and leaning forward so that his lips were right beside my ear, his breath fanning the shell of it. “You gonna beg for it?”

My breathing grew heavy as I watched him pull away, dragging a finger up the inside of my thigh before stilling ever so briefly and venturing on, up over my hip and then my ribs. He pressed a slow kiss to my chest, eyes flicking up to find mine as his tongue swirled over the skin, there and then gone.

“Come on–”

He huffed a quiet laugh, the force of it lighting goosebumps over my exposed flesh. “Come on, baby. Beg.”

I rolled my eyes, reaching up to grab at his neck but he was already dancing out of my reach. He jutted his chin. 

“Matty.” I huffed.

“Yeah?”

I really wanted to throttle him, “Fuck me. I’m not asking.”

The corner of his mouth tugged itself up into a small smirk, “Good enough.”

A disbelieving chuckle escaped me, one which was quickly cut short by his wandering hands finding purchase on my hips once more, before he dragged me down the length of the bed, his mouth finding purchase on the swell of my breast.

He pressed fast kisses along the curve of it until his tongue flicked out over the nipple, causing me to gasp. My hands flew out to tangle themselves in his hair when he lapped it into his mouth to suck and I groaned at the weight of his hands cradling the curve of my back. 

“Matty.”

He hummed and the sound sent vibrations rippling out across my skin, I fisted my hands into his curls harder.

Shifting until my hips found his whilst he lavished at my chest, I pressed up into him, both annoyed by the fact he was still clad in his boxers and pleased by the very visible wet patch I could see. I ground against him and the sensation elicited moans from the pair of us, his hands flying down to hold my hips steady.

“Patience.” He murmured, but I was having none of it, lifting a leg against his arse to spur him closer. Matty’s head jerked up at the surprise before he looked down at me and stared. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“You better hope not.” I replied, hands finding the hem of his shirt and dragging it off before he could fight me on it. “I’ll make it painful.”

“Counting on it.” Matty murmured back, hair now a mess, either from the clutch I’d had on it moments before or from the way I’d all but yanked his top over his head. “On all fours,” He said roughly, tapping my outer thigh twice. My already flushed skin heated further at the understanding of how he wanted to take me but– contrary to popular belief– I didn’t argue and rolled onto my stomach.

Palms to the sheets, I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, eyes trained on the headboard. I grinned to myself when I heard Matty groan at the sight, looking back over my shoulder only briefly to see him palming himself through his boxers.

“Don’t have all day, Healy.” I prompted after a moment passed, just before the mattress shifted beneath his weight. I heard something drop to the floor a second later before he was right up behind me.

I jolted a tad at his sudden touch, then was forced to focus on the way his hands slid over my hips with that same familiarity they’d always done, moving up to the swell of my arse to squeeze it before dropping back down to spread my legs further apart.

A moment passed and I was forced to wait in the silence he then gifted me, waiting and waiting until I finally went to say something. It was then that I felt a finger glide down my spine, dragging ever so slowly over my jumping muscles. 

“Hands,” Matty then reminded and I was forced to blink away the haze I had drifted into, reaching up to grab onto the headboard just as I felt him swipe his dick between my thighs, guiding himself up over my folds, pushing past them so he rested at my entrance. 

I let go of a rush of air, splaying my hands further against the headboard before he slammed into me without any warning at all, all the way up to the hilt whilst I cried out at the sudden fullness. “Fuck.” I hissed, head falling between my shoulders as I winced. 

I breathed through the bit of pain that came with the thrust, acknowledging that Matty didn’t move an inch and instead keeping still, hands holding my hips even as he leaned over to whisper, “You good?”

His voice was surprisingly soft in the quietness that encased the flat, reminding me of other times we’d spent here, both like this and in other odd moments. It made my chest ache.

I took another moment to adjust to him before I nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He hummed in turn but didn’t question it, just waited, thumbs circling the skin on my hips for a moment in a manner so gentle and yet so very Matty, before finally, he moved. 

His thrusts were shallow and slow at first, his thumbs keeping the same steady tempo as they continued to soothe the tops of my hips. I moaned at the feel of him, before I managed to roll my hips back to meet his own, enjoying the sound that escaped him.

“So good.” He said, hand sliding further up my side and towards my ribs before I was titling my head back and Matty was holding a fistful of my hair. He just held it for a bit, forearm pressed against the skin of my back before his thrusts began to grow harder, tugging more and more.

The room was quickly filled with the sounds of our groans along with the bedframe rocking against the wall and I praised all the Gods above for the fact that there were currently no neighbours residing in the flat beyond it, before I was quickly swept up once more in the thick scent of sweat and sex. Matty fucking into me with a desperation I’d never quite experienced from him before.

I panted beneath him, nails digging into the wood of my headboard whilst he picked up the pace.

I couldn’t quite focus on anything but him. His breathy whispers, his fingertips which dotted my skin, the feel of him rocking in and out of me. It was almost as though nothing else existed but this moment, even if I knew it would soon end. His thrusts getting sloppier, his grip tightening, his murmured praises increasing by a tenfold. 

“Come on, baby.”

I liked when he called me that.

Made me feel special. 

But that thought soon soured. Because, was I really? 

How could I be anything special when my whole life I’d been nothing but a doormat for people to walk all over? I couldn’t help but think that Matty would be the same, like he’d gotten too close and finally seen what everybody else already had.

“Squeaks, baby. What do you need?”

I whimpered at his ask, tears collecting in the corners of my eyes. “I–”

What the fuck did I need? It wasn’t meant to feel so loaded, that question. But it felt as though the walls were now closing in. Because was this it? Was this the end?

“I–” I tried, feeling Matty’s fingers slip from the ends of my hair before a gentle palm laid itself flat on the small of my back.

“So good for me.” I heard him say and I moaned at the slight praise, breathing harder as he continued to mumble mostly to himself, “So pretty. So good.”

I was almost there, back arching under his palm as the other moved away from the right grasp it held on my hip, fingers finally finding my clit, knowing exactly what I needed.

“Yes.” I panted as the combination of his hard thrusts and steady hand sent my head into a dizzying pool of water, “God, yes. I–”

I think I screamed as I came, his fingers working deftly whilst mine clung to the headboard, body trembling as I fought to keep myself up. But Matty was there, holding me long enough so that he could reach his high and pull out with a loud grunt, coating my inner thighs. 

We stayed there for, I don’t know how long, until he finally released me, falling away whilst I slumped forward onto the pillows before us. He followed a second later, still catching his breath as he stared up at the ceiling. I watched him, eyes hidden behind my forearm and a sprawl of hair that had fallen over my face, content to soak in what I could of him. What I had left.

Then Matty shifted beside me, I half expected him to get up and leave with some half-arsed excuse on the tip of his tongue, but he paused when he caught my heavy gaze. I let my eyes trail over the side of face, on the tired circles settled beneath his lash line and the slope of his nose.

He looked back towards the ceiling.

“You got your souvenir, remember?” I found myself saying, stupidly, voice just above a croaked murmur, “Don’t let me keep you.”

Quiet. And then, “Do you want me to?”

I knew what he meant, but still I asked, “Want what?”

Matty’s head slowly turned towards me, eyes guarded and peering over at my devastated form. I wondered what he made of me right then, if he thought anything at all. 

When he offered me no words, I refused to add anything either and felt what was left of my heart crumple up into a pitiful bundle when he pushed himself to the edge of a bed with a barely there sigh.

The air in my lungs caught as I watched and waited, eyes trailing after him as he rounded the bed frame to pick up his discarded boxers. I let them slip closed again, not wanting to watch him leave. 

I listened to his feet pad across the hardwood floors and out of the room. My chest ached with every step but I didn’t dare stop him, burying my face further into my pillow. 

I laid in wait for the front door to open, for there to be a clue to his evident departure, but then the footsteps returned. I didn’t dare give myself false hope, knowing he must have forgotten something to have come back. But the padding continued, closer and closer until they were back by the bed and I held my breath as it creaked, my eyes stinging just as I felt a warm damp cloth press against my inner thighs, wiping me clean.

I choked on the sob that wanted to escape me and the cloth paused for a split second before venturing on. I waited, wondering why he was doing this, why he was dragging it out.

Just leave already.

But then the cloth was pulling away again, and the bed was creaking again, and the tears, they wouldn’t stop. 

Stay. 

Please just stay.

I gasped into the pillowcase, stomach tensing with the strength to keep quiet. To let him leave quietly. 

I wouldn’t cry.

And then there was quiet, at least for a moment or two, before the bed dipped once more and there was a hand in my hair, combing the strands from out of my face and tucking them behind my ear.

When I opened my eyes, he was still there. Dressed and ready to go, but still sitting there beside me. Whilst I laid bare, curled up into a ball to better protect myself from his knowing gaze.

Suddenly everything hurt. Suddenly I felt exhausted and was falling apart at the seams.

Matty moved carefully, stretching toward the foot of the bed before returning with the sheet to cover me up, laying it gently over my trembling shoulders. He leaned in to press a slow kiss to my forehead and then went to move away again.

My hand caught his wrist.

And then I was flat out sobbing. Hysterical even. Crying into the pillow almost soundlessly as I gasped to try and catch my breath. Because I wanted him to stay. I needed him to stay.

Not just for me. But for Teddy. And for the life he brought into my dreary flat. To the kindness he never failed to gift me.

I needed him to stay.

I needed him.

I opened my mouth to ask, to let him know. But I could hardly even bear to look at him, blurred as he was through my onslaught of tears, Matty still held the key to all but destroying what little I had left.

His hand returned to my hair, fingers tangling themselves in it, a sudden contrast to the rough grip they’d held there earlier. And then he settled further onto the bed, back pressed against the headboard whilst he continued to run his fingers through my hair.

The tears still flowed but the sobs came less and less, until I was blinking at his shadowed figure in the dark, holding out hope that somehow he’d just know and he’d stay. 

[rdng1230]

Any SalTommy headcanons?

Thanks for the ask I have literally So many! ok I’m putting these into categories. The first is happy fluffy fun, the second and third is something I’ll probably have to discuss in therapy next week 🙃. For reals, I almost deleted those last paragraphs because here this nice person has come to my ask box and my brain has decided to reciprocate with the most hurt no comfort shit it’s ever concocted. Ok happy stuff first!

Saltommy as besties:

they are attached at the hip and their two favorite activities are Muay Thai and action movie marathons. At some point they get overly into the Guy Ritchie British gangster type movies and Hen has to institute a “stupid British accent” jar for the two of them.

Tommy and Sal don’t hang out that often once they leave the 118. But Tommy is ride or die for Sal’s daughter. He’s the fun uncle that isn’t constantly there but when he is he does something insanely awesome like build her a treehouse or a bottle cannon or something.

The reason Gina dragged Sal to twilight was because she is bisexual and just as into Kristen Stewart as he is. When Tommy *finally* comes out it’s actually Sal that suggests Gina take Tommy to his first pride. Sal stays at home with his daughter so Tommy and Gina end up having a very fun and alcohol filled night a la the bachelor party that wasn’t. (goddammit I think I just gave myself another fic in the series to write.)

k well that’s enough happiness this is about to get insanely angsty for no fucking reason besides apparently that my brain wants me to suffer today. If your brain does not desire to feed the angst demon inside of you, for the love of god stop reading now. I will NOT be offended because I wrote the damn thing and I think I took it too far. Also it gets a lil NSFW from here.

Evil toxic fucked up Saltommy:

Tommy’s fucked up dad and then fucked up army superiors and then fucked up captain Gerrard taught tommy he was safer following the big tough guy. He knows Sal is bad for him, knows Sal doesn’t love him, but he figures being useful is good enough when he knows he won’t be wanted. He lets Sal take more than he should, usually discreet hand/blowjobs in the showers or broom closet (yeah the metaphor isn’t lost on him)

They have a horrible call where the one person they did manage to rescue suddenly codes in the ambulance. A version of Sal that Tommy’s never seen before shows up at Tommy’s house. It’s the only time Sal ever lets Tommy fuck him and after it’s over, Tommy holds him and runs his hand through Sal’s hair. They fall asleep together but when Tommy wakes up Sal is long gone. The following week Sal is absolutely vicious to everyone. He ends up getting hurt and Tommy patches him up. As Tommy sterilizes a wound just above his eye, Sal grabs his arm and stares at him. It’s an apology, and it’s also an ending. Tommy still follows Sal, always one pace behind, but they’re never intimate again.

Idk I guess doomed lovers Saltommy? Sal’s not as much of a monster but they’re still not healthy:

There’s always a heat to Tommy and Sal’s banter and Tommy genuinely wonders if someday Sal might tip them into something more. One of the 118 probies dies and Sal on some level believes it’s his fault. The night of the probies funeral Sal’s just numb and Tommy suggests Sal crash his couch. Tommy hates seeing Sal in pain like that and hovers in front of the bedroom door wondering if he should go to him. He’s shocked when Sal opens the door and suddenly they’re in Tommy’s bed. He’s surprised by how cuddly Sal is. (And if you’re like hey that sounds a bit like Booth & Brennan shhhhh you saw nothing)

after that they start sneaking around. At this point Gerrard is gone and they’re in the revolving door of captains stage. Tommy starts talking about potentially telling Hen and Chim, and Sal just knows deep in his gut that Tommy is the braver of the two of them, and Sal won’t be ready in the time Tommy needs him to be. Sal starts picking fights hoping Tommy will run off on his own. Eventually they do stop seeing each other romantically but Tommy’s still so *close* it’s driving Sal insane. He wants to run away with him and he wants to run away from him at the same time. When Bobby shows up and doesn’t know his ass from his elbow a lot of the time, Sal let’s all that anger and tension bubble up, on some level he knows he can’t bring himself to leave Tommy, so he pushes Bobby into sending him away by force.

After he moves to the 122 he buries himself in the work. He makes captain, even starts dating men, but still in the shadows. He hears through the grapevine that Tommy is dating the 118’s hotshot. He sees a photo of Tommy and Buck at the medal ceremony in the morning paper, looking so obviously head over heels for one another, and it’s the first and only sick day as a captain he ever takes.

[cherryxblossxms]

Hear me out, professor Nanami but reader isn't attending any of his classes. He'd simply seen her on the campus, doesn't know her name, what she is studying, literally nothing and yet he's been having wet dreams and jerking of replaying those few times he'd seen her. He is desperate to corrupt her. You can add if they met or not or if anything happened between them or not but, if I came across professor Nanami I'd climb him like a koala bear and never let go

Oooh yes professor Nanami is always a yummy idea (I'm not doing any fic requests but I'm always happy to add to the thirst 💙 sorry anon). I'm not usually intrigued by corruption but I do go feral for Nanami

[Tw corruption or perhaps power play/power imbalance???? Idk, it gets filthy. She/her pronouns used. Ask to tag]

I can see it where he runs into reader at the campus coffee shop the very first time, she's laughing with her friends/classmates. She's talking about her classes, how she has a report to finish, how she can't wait for the semester to end. But he stopped listening long ago, simply enamored with watching and hearing her speak. He knows he's staring, bordering creepy, and has to tear his eyes away. But something about her just plagues his mind.

He hadn't seen her on campus before, she's not in his classes. Couldn't tell you what year she was in or what she was studying, admittedly he didn't catch what exactly her report was on. But after that first encounter, he keeps spotting her on campus here and there, like some kind of ghost haunting his mind. The longer he thinks and sees of her, the more he's obsessed.

Was she a good student, he wondered? Or maybe she needed some... discipline, to help her along? He'd be happy to help raise her grades, if she asked oh so nicely. On a Friday, the freedom of the weekend highly anticipated, he spotted her in a sinful little sundress, lips painted with a gorgeous cherry lipgloss, and for that entire weekend, all he could think of was having those same lips wrapped around his cock as he fucked his fist and milked his balls dry. He'd be willing to award some extra credit for that.

He briefly wondered if she was seeing anyone on campus, but that didn't really matter. None of those immature college boys had the experience that he had, could fuck her as thoroughly as he could. Or maybe she was even innocent, barely experienced. How he'd love to show her all that he knew, show her that sweet sensitive spot deep inside that her fingers can't quite reach, the noises she could make when she came on his tongue, or the way her toes would curl as he brought her to mind-numbing orgasm after mind-numbing orgasm on his dick.

He didn't even know her name but that didn't stop his imagination from running wild, envisioning her bent over his desk as he fucked her from behind, or watching his cum leak from her pussy onto the papers he was grading. He was in deep shit, being so obsessed with a student like that. But he just couldn't get her off his mind.

[huuuuughes]

Mine. - Jeremy Swayman

Summary: Jeremy comes over to beg for your forgiveness, and things quickly take a turn... but not for the worst.

Word count: 3.3k (its short ik im sorry)

WARNINGS: Daddy kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, bad writing??? idk this is porn OKAY READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. pls dont read if you're under 18 thank u!!

Note: i wrote this awhile ago for goalie week and then a bunch of stuff happened and i kept forgetting to post it bc i started my first full time job a month ago and its kicking my BUTT. anyways thanks for reading :)

You could hear your phone going off from across the room. It was Friday night and the end of a very long work week. Your boss was driving you up the wall and your personal life didn’t seem to be going much better. Your friends were good, you just didn’t get to see them as often as you wanted due to just being adults and everyone having their own full time jobs. 

The one person who was supposed to make your life easier, better even, was the one currently blowing up your phone. You knew exactly who it was, but he deserved to sit there and stew for a while. But as you looked around your apartment while trying to decide what show to numb your mind with, you noticed things of his strewn everywhere. You didn’t live together, not yet anyway, but based on the amount of things you had at each others’ places, you may as well have. 

Your work involved working with many different clients, and making their dreams come true. You were a travel agent, and your boss didn't exactly adhere to the typical 9-5 schedule like a normal job. If you were awake, she expected you to be able to take care of the problem. 

You had already decided long ago that men didn’t always think with their brains. Jeremy was jealous, but of what you had no idea. Did you have a lot of clients who were men who wanted to surprise the lady in their lives? Yes. Did those scumbags also try and make a move on you sometimes? Also yes. But you were a professional, and always conducted yourself as such. As much as you wanted to, it wasn’t your job to fix someone else’s insecurities. You could tell Jeremy that he didn’t need to be jealous until you were blue in the face, but you didn’t know when he was going to get it. You weren’t broken up, but you’d told him you needed a minute for him to calm down. It had been a few days at that point, and you couldn’t deny you were also getting antsy. He may be a stupid guy sometimes, but he was yours.

After what had to be the millionth time of your phone going off with a DING of a text, you made yourself get up off the couch. The last message you had read:

Sway❤️: I know I’m stupid. I need you to know I’m sorry. Can I see you, please? 

After the stressful week you’d had, you wanted nothing more than to feel his familiar warmth around you. The moment he was near you it was like the noise around you calmed down to its lowest level. 

Y/N: I’m at home, you know where to find me. 

Sway❤️: I’m on my way, be there in 20. I love you. 

The next twenty minutes were going to kill you. Your apartment was already cleaned, because you liked to clean when you got anxious as mess only made you more anxious. Your doorman would recognize Jeremy and send him up when he arrived, so you didn’t need to even get up to let him in. He had his key, he knew exactly where to find you. 

After an eternity, at least what felt like one, you heard the familiar sound of a key in the lock. He quietly took off his shoes by the door, and locked it behind him. 

“Babe?” He called out, already walking toward the living room where you sat. 

“I’m in here!” You called back. Relief washed over you when you saw him, but you didn’t get up and go to him. He had to earn you back the way you deserved. 

“Where should I start?” He asked, sitting down in a chair only a few feet away from you. 

“How about how you shouldn’t act jealous of my stupid clients? Or any man that I’m ever with that isn’t you? Do you really think I’m that crappy of a person that I would EVER cheat on you?”

“I know I shouldn’t, I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t do that because you’re the best person I’ve ever known, but-“

“BUT WHAT JEREMY?” You screamed, and you know it came out louder and meaner than you wanted it to. He recoiled a little bit but didn’t lose his energy. 

“I’m stupid. I’m a stupid guy, who knows you are way out of my league. It sounds like a dumb excuse, but I’m so scared of losing you. I want you, I want to love you, I want to be with you for the rest of my life. But you’ve seen the league, you’ve seen what this life can do to relationships and what it turns people into. I don’t want anything bad to happen to us. I know this isn’t the life you signed on for. I think about you being at home alone and I hate it.” He looked defeated and like he meant every word he’d said. 

“You can’t lose something you already have.” You wanted to close the space between you so badly. 

“You still want to be with me?” You got up and walked to the kitchen as he asked, putting away the wine you’d gotten out so it wouldn’t spoil. He followed closely, less than a few steps away. One giant step and he’d be able to close that space. 

“I wouldn’t have told you to come if I didn’t. You just needed to listen, and you weren’t hearing me. You don’t have to be jealous of anyone, that isn’t who I am.”

“I hear you loud and clear now. And I’m not jealous, you’re just mine.” The tone in his voice shifted to another one you recognized. 

“I’m yours huh?” You said it like you were challenging him because it sounded like he thought he already won. He should be fighting for you and showing you what that means. 

“Do you need a reminder?” He closed the space, so his forehead rested against yours. You could feel his hot breath on your face, breathing in time with you. Without warning, you pressed your lips against his with a new hunger behind you. You’d missed this heat between you, the raw need to have each other right in that moment. 

His hands explored your body, finding their way to your ass and lifting you up onto the counter. It was cold against your legs, the shorts you had on weren’t very long and you felt every inch of cold countertop but you didn’t care. His lips left yours with a moan and began making their way down your neck. You could feel how wet you were already getting, responding to his touch so quickly. You reached for the hem of his shirt and motioned for him to take it off. He complied in earnest, his mouth immediately returning to you.

Lifting your shirt up and over your head, your breasts became exposed for him to devour. He licked around your nipple, biting it and chasing you to arch off the counter while letting out a scream. Your nails were digging into every spot on him that he could reach. Momentarily he kissed your mouth again, bringing his still covered cock against your center. You could feel it hard against you, the friction only giving you the slightest relief. 

“Please daddy, please I need-“ You tried not to beg but the torture was killing you. 

“Tell me you’re mine and I’ll give you exactly what you want. Tell daddy who you belong to princess.” He whispered in your ear, continuing to kiss around your neck in the spot he knew you liked. 

“YOURS. I’M YOURS!” You needed relief or you were going to go insane. 

“Now was that so hard baby?” He asked. You didn’t even have the time or energy to reply as he pulled off your shorts in one big motion. 

“No underwear? Even better.” You attempted to push his head toward your swollen clit, but he wouldn’t go faster than he wanted to. He kissed and bit your thighs, leaving marks where he knew no one could see. You’d have those marks there for weeks. Each kiss he got closer until you finally felt his tongue brush against your clit. You shivered as he began to devour you, your thighs clenching around his head not wanting him to escape.

He pulled back but only for a moment, instructing you to lick the fingers he was putting in front of your face. You did as he asked, and he resumed going after your pussy. In a new move, he inserted his fingers into you as he continued eating. His tongue was licking in time with his fingers as they pumped in and out of you. He was hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know was there.

“Holy shit don’t stop, don’t stop PLEASE.” You were writhing on top of the counter as he struggled to hold you in place. He knew you were so close to your high, edging you just along that fine line. You’re burning up and he knows it. His other hand reaches up and pinches your nipple before grabbing onto your breasts like they were his lifeline. 

You cursed him silently for having hair you couldn’t grab onto, but you pressed his head as if it could go further into you. His tongue quickened its pace, matching his fingers. You could feel your orgasm building and it was right there, all you needed to do was let go. 

“Let go baby girl, cum on my face for me..” He whispered against your clit,  and what came out of yours was a series of expletives that you didn’t care to understand. He could taste everything you were giving him, not stopping as you started to come down. Every nerve ending was on overdrive and he held you down against the counter. The wave of your orgasm rolled over you, your heart pounding in your chest. He didn’t let a single drop of you miss his mouth, and you saw his smile looking up at you as you tried to catch your breath. 

He stood up without breaking eye contact, and undid his own pants. He made sure all remaining clothes of yours were off, nibbling on your ears and down your neck as he did so. In a move of complete trust, he picked you up off of the counter and carried you down to where he knew your room was. His lips found yours again and suddenly your lungs were struggling for air but you didn’t care. Your arms were hooked around his neck as he walked, kissing him like your life depended on it. 

Setting you down on the bed, he laid you down on your back, and stood back to marvel at the sight of you. 

“You look… “ his brain was struggling to find the right word, “fucking stunning.” 

“And you have too many clothes on… sir.” You put yourself up on your elbows, looking down at his boxers that for some reason, had remained on. You didn’t need to let him finish what he was going to say, you needed him to do something more than speak. 

“Sir?” He raised an eyebrow and stepped closer to you. 

“Did you like that?”  You knew he did but it was your way of teasing. His mouth was on yours before you could process his next movements, placing one hand to your side to balance himself and the other knotted in your hair, pulling your head back so you were looking up at him when he pulled apart. You didn’t even realize that his boxers were already off, as you felt his cock brush against your leg and pussy. 

His hand left your hair and explored your leg, getting closer to its destination. His face was so close you could feel his hot breath on your face and his fingers glided over your folds, but so lightly it sent a shiver up your spine. You could hardly catch your breath but you were dying for him to touch you, to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your own name. You wanted him to hear you. His hand remained on your pussy, his fingers becoming soaked.

“So fucking wet for me baby.. did you miss me?” He quickened his fingers and began pumping them inside you. The feeling of his fingers wasn’t enough, you needed more and a whine-like moan escaped you. You whispered a response to him, and it spurred him on. 

“Please Jeremy please, please I need you inside me..” 

“That’s not my fucking name, not in here. In here I own you, isn't that right princess? Do you want me to be gentle?” You nod no, but that isn’t enough for him.

“Use your words princess.”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“Don’t be gentle!” You tried pushing his head towards your core again, but he remained looking at you with his fingers teasing you. He added another, stretching you from the inside. You gasped and scratched your nails up his back. 

You gasp again, as you feel him part you with two fingers and put his tongue against you again. He wasn’t done tasting you yet.

“Please baby, I need your cock. Please!” Your mouth couldn’t move fast enough and you didn’t even care that he had reduced you to a begging mess beneath him. Your hips wanted to grind, needing more friction. You could feel your release building again as he sucks on your clit. It was right there, you could feel it as you clawed at your sheets trying to grab onto something but there was nothing. 

Your legs spasmed around his head as your release flooded over you and he ate you once again. 

“So fucking wet for me, you’re so stunning baby girl.” He kissed his way up your body and aligned himself with your entrance. He isn’t gentle as he slams into you as he kisses your mouth like you’re the only thing keeping him alive. 

You’re left begging for air as his head drops down, ducking your nipple into his mouth. 

“Oh god, oh fuck..” you cry out as he wasn’t holding back. He slammed into you over and over, bringing his hand up to find your clit. As he fucked you he was playing with your clit again, causing your wetness to pool onto the bed. Every single nerve you had was on fire, and only he could put it out. 

“Tell me you need it, tell me how bad you want you want my cum.” The hand not on your clit slowly moves up your body to the bottom of your throat and locking his hand around it. Not putting too much pressure, but enough to lightly choke you. Both of your hands gripped his arm as  you felt his cock filling you and his thighs slapping against yours. His speed was increasing and so was the hunger in his eyes. 

“Oh fuck, fuck daddy please I need your cum I need you so bad..!” 

“You are mine, your orgasms are mine, everything about you is mine.” Without warning he withdrew from you, earning a desperate moan. Quickly he flipped you over into your stomach, pulling your hips back so you were on your hands and knees facing away from him with your ass in the air waving him in like an invitation. 

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He whispers into your ear from behind you. He places kisses on the spot in your neck he knows drives you crazy, running his cock along your folds at the same time. He pushes into you again and holds back nothing. Jeremy grips both of your hips with his hands and brings your hips back to meet each one of his thrusts. The sound of his thighs hitting your ass echoes throughout the room, reaching spots inside you that you didn’t know he could. 

You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, you collapsed into the bed as he fucked into you. 

“So fucking tight princess, this pussy was made for me.” His nails scratch down your back eliciting a loud string of moans. His thrusts become more erratic and he brings his hand up, then down to smack your ass as hard as he could. The scream you made encouraged him more, and you could feel a third orgasm building.

“Fuck daddy, please I’m right there I need to cum daddy please..” You didn’t know how he had gotten that many out of you, but you could already tell he was determined for more. 

“That’s it baby, cum for me, cum all over my cock..” He brought his hand around as he leaned into you to tease your clit some more. You were right there, you pushed back to meet his thrusts to get yourself over the hill and the relief washed over you. You moaned out his name, begging for him to fuck you harder and faster. 

He loved seeing his length go in and out of you, taking all of him so well. Spreading your legs to give him a better angle, his cock continued hitting that spot inside you. He slaps your ass again, and again. You cry out, knowing his release was close behind. His hands wrap in your hair and pull you back, making you arch towards him. 

“Fuck yes baby, you like it when I fuck you like this? You ready for my cum?” He chases his release just as badly as you want it from him, feeling him trying to reach his high. You nodded in response to him, not being able to form any more words. The only sounds coming from you were moans of encouragement, it felt like you could be on cloud nine. 

“FUCK!” He screamed as he pulled almost all the way out, slamming back in and releasing his load into you. Jeremy almost collapsed onto you, but he brought you into his arms as he pulled out of you as his cum slowly leaked back out. You knew he thought it was the hottest thing ever. Both trying to catch your breath and come back down to earth, he pulled you in once you laid down so that you were on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat going a million miles a minute inside his chest, but it brought you a sense of calm. Your person was back where he belonged, he had finally heard you. 

“I love you.” He finally spoke but he still sounded out of breath.

“I love you too.”

“No, you don’t understand. I love you, I really love you. THIS is what I want. This body, your perfect fucking curves. Every minute of every hour of every day, I want you. Not just your body, I want all of you. I’m sorry I was so stupid. I can’t promise you that I won’t make stupid choices sometimes, but I can promise to be better for you every day.”

“Jer-“ You attempted to stop him, you knew he was it too. 

“Please let me finish. I want to make you feel good, I want to be the person you want to come home to every day, I want to be the person who pushes you to be the best version of yourself and make you feel like the queen of the world. You’re it for me, there is no one else. I’ve spent my whole life doubting myself and chasing this dream I couldn’t even describe. But I can see it so clearly now, and I know that dream is you. And I want to be able to have forever with you, if you’ll have me.” You took a moment to absorb his words. 

“You have to make me a promise okay?” His eyes gleamed at you, like you were holding up the moon just for him. 

“Anything, you name it.”

“Promise me forever. There is no past anymore, there is only us and the future we make together. I want us to help each other be better. Okay?”

“Okay. How about we start forever now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

[arrenlebanen777]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS ???

🌙Pluto in our charts also can show us how is our Arrogant/Egocentric/Shadow side... So people who have very big egos, we tend to confuse that with high confidence, but arrogance/narcissism/etc could also take you to Big material places (just look Kleopatra, Hitler, Mussolini) but with empty ends, because arrogance/narcissism represents psychological problems that are against our real “nature”, and this type of people are everywhere nowadays: All “Goddesses/gods”, “Kings/Queens”, all people who only see themselves as 10/10, people who identifies too strong with an identity(beliefs), just tyrannic people everywhere generating a numb/superficial/dumb world... AND THAT IS WHAT PLUTO IS TRYING TO SHOW US! Idk why no one is putting these people in their place!? (maybe because the DNA/MEMORY of abuse, slavery, victimization, power over others is in us and we are not as conscious as we think). 🌙Idk if this is with all Scorpio Suns or with People who have South node in 8th house but every time I “try to be happy”, the more naive and dumb I become, but the more I connect with my pains/suffering the more mature, compassionate, grounded and with more integrity I feel (very Scorpionic thing), anyone relate to this?(I read you).

🌙Neptune conjunct Vertex: They attract a lot of different types of people in the range of Wounded or very strong/powerful people, They have powerful imaginations with thoughts that contain very high vibration information, these people are mystics, when you talk to them they can take you to places(states) that transcends the limits of the mind (life/oneness/existence/God/Source/universe/infinite) or to very dreamy places, they can transcend the mind just by reading some book, and I can’t stress enough that these people should meditate or do spiritual practices a lot (This Is heightened when it is in water houses, 4th house/8th house/12th house).

🌙Sun Aries in Scorpio degrees(8, 20): These people balance very well being an extrovert/introvert person, they have a lot of creative energy, S*x is a very intense experience for them so they can stay long periods of time without s*x with no problem, but when they have it, they have a lot(and they want a lot), they usually always have some issues related to anger due to the double martian energy here, they have a lot of drive/energy and willpower, they could look very secretives but with a shinny/intense/passionate personality, they have the power to bring any project to light.

🌙Sun Virgo and Mars Leo combination: They are very stable, with a lot of drive, they don’t know when they are judging someone, and they have a very demanding aura, Very talented people, but due to the inner critic/high standards they have with themselves they don’t show this too much to the world, but they should, powerful intellect, and it could be a bit intimidating talking with them because it is felt like they are criticizing you, prideful AF.

🌙Air Moons: You have a very refined intellect that can understand all emotions intellectually but you have to bleed emotionally to grow as a person/human being, Your mind is afraid to feel your emotions since it thinks that would bring some kind of crisis or suffering, again I emphasize on therapy here or doing practices that connect you with your body(meditating too) to get off that hyperactive mental place that you inhabit a lot, otherwise you could stay quite childish or immature, but you need to feel your emotions and do it consciously, connect with all those parts with which you have lost connection. 🌙Gemini stellium: I adore/love these people, they are very childish and they have a very exquisite playful nature, they have the wisdom of the inner child, radiants, witty/mischievous/very intelligent people, they are the star of the world, just look “AURORA” she is a gemini stellium in 10th house, she is the embodiment of what i’m trying to say, They can be a bit nervous, but that nervousness is usually because they have a lot of energy and are very curious. 🌙Lilith conjunct AC, DC, MC, IC usually gives dark hair to the native. 🌙Mercury in Scorpio: Penetrative minds, very intelligent people, they tend to overthink when they are with other people, very good intuition, my mercury retrograde love these people because we can understand each other without saying too much, they have obsessive minds when it comes to studying something or work matters, they are very secretive, they can hide simple things, they may be supporting something you are saying and you think they're on your side, but they never really revealed what they really thought about it, very good sense of humor, can be silent manipulators. 🌙Moon sextile Lilith: Very persuasive, powerful intuition, they see the psychology of others easily, good placement if you want to be a psychologist, Problems with libido(usually is very high), they can manipulate you easily, natural seductive abilities, usually occult and taboo is part of their vocabulary, hidden talents and gifts, “Dark Academia Aesthetics”, they usually love some chaos. 🌙Sun conjunct Pluto: I find these people very funny, They don’t get scared easily, actually they have rather stoic and calm attitude/presence, everyone I know with this placement everytime I've tried to scare them, their responses were: “there you are, hello” lol (with an unamused face), silent paranoids, and they can be quite daring. 🌙Lilith in Sagittarius: They are one of the most rebellious here, but sometimes they can get caught up in superficial things just for the fun and chaos, they get easily triggered by s*x, since is always behind their minds, For example: If a friend tells them "I dreamed about you the other day” they immediately think "Are you trying to F*ck/seduce me?...No, it's a friend” lol (all this unconsciously), Party harders, rebels without a cause, but when they find it they can become quite enlightened and radiant people/human beings.