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katebishopsbow · 6 months

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PLEASE MORE CHARLES SISTER READER !! i loved it so much. could you maybe do like a young middle teen sister reader who kinda has a grudge against charles for him never being around cause he was racing and then angst when they see each other again but it eventually turns to fluff/comfort? thank you i adore your stuff !!!

DAISY • CHARLES LECLERC

pairing: charles leclerc x sister!reader

summary: you and charles used to be inseparable, but with him constantly being away for all his races, an invisible wall began to form between you and him. it took a crash for you two to acknowledge what had happened, and try mending the broken pieces of your relationship.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, miscommunications, charles being absent from reader's life

word count: 3.1k

(image is not mine)

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The first reactions whenever you revealed to people that Charles Leclerc was your brother had always been jealous glances, envious smiles, and words like “That must be so amazing!” And it was amazing indeed – Charles was amazing. So why did you feel so isolated, like you were stuck looming in the hidden shadows of your brother sometimes?

You tried to be understanding. Charles was incredibly talented in racing, and these few years would be the most crucial years of his life in climbing the ladder to Formula 1 – his biggest childhood dream. So whenever your parents would tell you with the most apologetic smiles that they might have to miss your events at school because Charles had an important race they had to attend, you didn’t cry, you didn’t throw a tantrum, you just nodded quietly and went back to your room.

It wasn’t your parents nor Charles’ fault – you knew that. You understood that your parents would never purposefully miss your events or neglect one child for the other, and Charles never wanted to make you feel like the less important one in the family. But somehow, it still stung to glance down at the audience at whatever school performance you were having and not see your parents or brother there, to feel like you were quietly fading into the background, to know that you would always be seen as an extension of Charles and never your own self.

Of course, Charles had noticed you becoming distant from the family – he always noticed everything. It pained him just as much as it upset you whenever he had to miss out on your life, and so he tried hard to be there when you needed it. On the rare days when he didn’t have training or a race lined up, he would offer to take you out for a little “sibling date” and try making up for the times he wasn’t there for you. While you appreciated his effort, there was no denying that an invisible wall had developed between you two, dividing you and your brother with all your missed events and unspoken words.

How could you tell Charles that because of him, you felt like you were not seen? How could you tell him that it felt like his dreams and achievements took center stage of the family while yours had become shoved back in the dimmed shadows? How could you tell him that when you looked at him, you saw a stranger, that the bond that once firmly held you two together had begun to feel oddly unfamiliar? You simply couldn’t.

The wall continued to grow as the years went on, acting as a constant reminder that things between you two could never quite be the same. Your parents would always say to your relatives that you and Charles were such good kids because you two rarely fought. You were uncertain if that was really a good thing though – how could you fight when you barely even talk to each other?

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

There was a soft knocking on your door, and you didn’t need to ask to know who it was. “Go away, Charles,” you sighed exasperatedly, not wanting to speak to your brother just yet. He had done it once again – saying that he would come to your school’s drama performance but telling you last minute that he had an urgent meeting with his sponsor and couldn’t come. It wasn’t his fault that something suddenly came up, but it still hurt like hell, and it left you feeling like a complete idiot for believing for a second that you were more important to him than his race.

Despite your protest, he opened the door and came in anyway. “Hey, ange.” He still called you by your childhood nickname, but that word that once held so much endearment and affection only sounded foreign coming from his lips. “I thought since Mom and Dad won’t be home for dinner tonight, we could go to that restaurant that you like?” he asked with a tired smile, trying to make it up to you for missing your show.

“Just stop it, Charles,” you said to him, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration. Your brother looked at you confusedly, the smile dropping from his face as he asked, “What do you mean?” You considered for a moment to stay silent and continue to conceal your true feelings, to keep acting like everything’s fine – but you were just so, so tired of pretending.

“Stop pretending that everything’s normal between us! Stop acting like you care, or that you aren’t gone most of the time!” For the first time in years, you yelled at him, voice cracking at the emotions that had stayed buried deep within you for the longest time. “It’s fine if you’re not going to be here, Charles, but then just please stay gone… don’t come back and give me all these false hopes when you’re just going to leave me again. Please…” You were already choked up by the time you finished your words, raw hurt and disappointment lacing through your pleas – a mixture of so much love and hate toward your brother.

Charles said nothing, he just stared at you silently while allowing your gun-wrenchingly painful words to set in. The boy hardly cried – not when he performed terribly in a race, not when he suffered a nasty sports injury, not even when he thought his journey to F1 was over when he almost got disqualified at a rather important race. But as he stood there in the doorway of your room, feeling the words stabbing into his heart, he thought he was going to fall apart and shatter into broken pieces.

“I’m sorry,” he let out a barely audible whisper, voice trembling from the guilt that weighed heavily on his chest. Hearing your cries made his heart clench with pain, and it hurt him even more knowing that he was the cause of it all. When you were kids, the two of you always joked that he was going to beat up any boy who would dare break your heart. It was a cruel twist of fate that he, the person who had vowed to protect you, had become the very person to cause you heartbreak, and that realization killed him inside.

Knowing that nothing he said could make things right at this point, he glanced at you one last time before leaving your room. That night while you soaked through your pillow with tears and heartache, in your brother’s room at the other end of the hallway, Charles was crying silently beneath his sheets too.

Two hearts were broken that night, with both of you mourning the shattered pieces of your once unbreakable bond.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The air was humid when your parents and you arrived at the circuit, rain pouring heavily as the scent of wet gravel loomed over the track like a bad omen. Flying halfway across the world to watch Charles’ race wasn’t initially in your summer plans, but your parents insisted that it would be fun to travel as a family. So alas, here you were, standing amidst the rain-soaked circuit to support Charles in the pursuit of his racing dreams.

“Mom! Dad!” The excited voice of your brother could be heard in the distance, and Charles sprinted through the rain to give your parents a quick hug. Then when his gaze shifted towards you, he gave you a slight smile – one that hovered on the edge of awkwardness. “Hey, ange. Thank you for coming,” he said, and you flinched when you sensed the subtle tension of your past conflict lingering around the air.

The two of you never mentioned that night again, pretending it never happened for the fear of reopening wounds that you both knew would never really heal. So you went back to your old routine – with Charles chasing his racing dreams in the bright limelights and you disappearing back into the shadows where the world couldn’t see you. It was less frightening that way, not having to face your fears and be honest about your feelings, to admit how much you missed each other.

“It’s fine – no big deal,” you answered, returning a tight-lipped smile with a shrug of your shoulders. Perhaps Charles was overanalyzing things like he always did, but he felt a punch to his gut upon hearing what you said to him. Having you there at his race to support him wasn’t “no big deal”, because to him it had meant the world.

He wanted to win the race and make you proud, to dedicate his victory to the most important people in his life, to celebrate the moment with you – his best friend and biggest supporter since day one. Though it seemed that this meant much less to you than it did to him, and despite the sadness that clouded over him, he didn’t let his smile falter.

“Well, I’d better head back soon,” he announced quickly as he glanced at the time, accepting the doting kisses and hugs from your mother before walking off into the pouring rain again. You watched as he disappeared into the distance, the “good luck out there” you had intended to say lingering at the tip of your tongue, joining the countless other unspoken words between you and Charles.

The rain had never really gone well with car racing, for the wet conditions reduce traction and control, turning the track into a treacherous playground with accidents waiting to happen. Your parents and you spectated the race from the garage, and you couldn’t help the unsettlement that consumed you as you watched your brother drive, more aggressively than usual.

Sure, Charles had always been a competitive person who wasn’t afraid to take risks on track, but not like this – never like this. It was on a particularly sharp corner when disaster struck. Charles, attempting to overtake the person in front of him, pushed the limits just a fraction too far causing his tires to lose grip, and his car spun out of control.

It wasn’t the first time you had seen Charles crash – he had his fair share of incidents throughout his karting days – but the horror and utter helplessness, as you watched his car hurtle towards the barrier as if time had slowed down, was just as bad as the first.

The piercing sound of screeching tires and colliding metals reverberated through the air, and you held your breath as you braced for the absolute worst – something you learned to do when your family was a part of the dangerous world of motorsports. When Charles’s car settled to a stop, only having a minor collision with the wall instead of a serious crash, you made sure to thank all the Gods in existence as you exhaled a relieved sigh.

Charles staggered out of the car looking relatively unscathed, holding a thumbs-up to signal he was alright and not severely injured as he awaited for assistance. Without hesitation, you headed straight towards the medical center when you watched Charles leave the scene with the medics, not only to check on him but to give him a proper scolding for driving so recklessly.

“Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc, what were you thinking?” you exclaimed as you made your way to Charles’s bed, feeling a palpable ache in your chest when you noticed the scratches on his face and the bandaged gash on his forehead. “How could you drive so recklessly…?” you asked again, your voice significantly weaker than before – how could you still be mad at him when he was already hurt?

Charles’s head dropped down in remorse after hearing what you had said, it’s only when the adrenaline during the race faded away that he realized how irresponsible he had been. “I’m sorry… I just really wanted to win and... make you proud.” You didn’t expect such an answer from him, finding it hard to fathom that your brother wanted you to be proud of him so badly that he was willing to jeopardize his safety.

How could you begin to express how proud you were of him – so proud that every time you thought of him your heart swelled with uncontainable joy, that seeing him race filled you with so much admiration and respect, that even with all that happened between you two, he was still your biggest role model who taught you everything you needed to know in life.

“Please don’t be mad at me, ange. Here, look at what I got you…” he said to you before reaching into one of the hidden pockets of his race suit, pulling out a little flower. A daisy – your favourite. It was missing a few petals, slightly mushed up, and the stem was bent at an odd angle, but it was the most perfect daisy you had ever laid eyes on.

“I saw it at the field before the race started and thought of you. You told me they were your favourite flower when we were kids, right?” he asked albeit already knowing the answer – they were indeed your favourite flower. “Charles…” you muttered in a hushed whisper, and you genuinely feared that you would start uncontrollably sobbing.

He had remembered. It was a warm spring afternoon when the two of you wandered into a grass field, playing an intense game of tag when you suddenly got distracted by a little white flower that adorned the ground – delicate and so, so pretty. “Charles, what kind of flower is this?” you said to your brother, to which he answered, “These are called daisies.” You studied the flower carefully, admiring its beautiful white petals and soft yellow center, and that’s when you decided, “This is my favourite flower.”

Charles chuckled beside you and teased, “You say that to every flower!” When you smacked his arm jokingly with an annoyed pout on your face, he pretended to yelp in pain and raised his hands in surrender, “Okay, okay! Whatever you say, mon ange.” The two of you erupted into a giggling fit and resumed your game of tag – the game you never seemed to lose because Charles would always let you win.

It was a precious memory you held dearly in your heart, a distant thought that you remembered with such fondness. The simple times when you and Charles were still close as ever, when he didn’t have to constantly be away because of his races and you didn’t push him away every chance you got, before all the unexpressed thoughts and misunderstandings had created a barrier between you two. You had always thought that Charles had long forgotten about it, but now you realized that the memory held a special place in his heart as well, and it made you want to burst into tears.

“Charles, I’m –” you hesitated, almost like you had forgotten how to be honest or vulnerable in front of your brother, but you knew you would never be able to get the words out if you didn’t do it now. “I’m sorry – for pushing you away, for not making an effort to fix things between us… And I’m scared, so scared that if I try, my effort won’t be good enough, and then I’ll have no choice but to watch you leave, ” you let out a sigh while keeping your gaze trained on the flower in your hand, knowing well that if you looked at your brother, you would start crying, and you weren’t sure if the tears would ever stop.

Charles’ face softened at your apology, shaking his head vehemently because he never once blamed you for anything that happened. “No, ange, it’s not your fault. I’m sorry for not being there for you and for ever making you feel unimportant, because you mean the absolute world to me… It’s my fault for not being the older brother that you deserved, and I want to do better, for you,” he admitted truthfully, taking the blame for all the hurt he had caused you over the years for being absent.

When you lifted your gaze to meet his own teary eyes, for the first time in forever, you felt… seen. You had gotten so used to being invisible, letting yourself fade away in the distance as the haunting loneliness swallowed you whole. But with Charles, you didn’t feel invisible, you felt like he could see you – the real you, down to every flaw and every insecurity, and instead of judgment, you could only feel acceptance and love.

Charles had always seen you, and remembered every little detail about you – even the small, unimportant things that you presumed nobody would care enough to notice. To him, you were not a mere extension of him like the world had always seen you as – Charles Leclerc’s sister. To him, you were your own person with your own goals and aspirations, with a heart so big it could embrace the world. You were his best friend, the one who knew him like nobody else, the only person who could understand all his unfunny jokes and odd sense of humor, and he loved every fiber of your being with every fiber of his.

“I love you more than anything, you know that right?” he asked while looking into your eyes, he was not going to let any more unsaid words get between the two of you again. You nodded your head at his question, because despite all your distance and miscommunications, you had always known you were loved. “I know.”

“And you know that I will always be proud of you regardless, right?” It was your turn to ask him, and Charles stayed quiet for a few seconds to think. In the world of racing and its harsh realities, your value was measured by your achievements – you performed well, and the world would love you. Charles had gotten used to that way of things, and so he pushed himself harder and harder each time on track for the fear of making a mistake and being discarded by the world. But with you, with your family, he knew that he would always make you guys proud. “I know,” he smiled.

“We’re gonna fix this, ange,” he said as he reached for your hands. His fingers felt calloused and rough, unlike the hands you had always held onto back when you were kids, but somehow it had felt so familiar, so comforting, so like Charles – those same hands that held yours when you two were running across the field, the one with all the beautiful daisies.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #f1 x you

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yourfavpasifikacreator · 2 months

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Hi!!!! i don’t remember if you did something like this or not but maybe you can do where the fem! reader (aphrodite or unclaimed. you can pick) is foolishly in love with clarisse but clarisse is like super mean to her but the reader is a little delusional and oblivious to it so she continues to give her gifts but then the reader sees clarisse hanging out with silena more so the reader gets sad but doesn’t or does (you can pick) stop her affection and gifts (even though clarisse throws them out and/or gives them away which the reader sees and get hurts by it) so one day clarisse is talking to her siblings about the reader and clarisse’s siblings say that she’s so clingy or annoying or something to which clarisse agrees to and the reader overhears and officially stops talking and giving stuff to clarisse all together and starts hanging out with a new camper which makes clarisse gets a little upset and annoyed that she starts being mean to the new camper and reader. clarisse then realizes that she’s in love with the reader. you can pick how it ends. happy ending??

i’m sorry it’s so long and i hope it makes sense!!!

Is it true you care?

Clarisse la rue x daughter of Aphrodite!reader

You and clarisse weren't really in that great terms to everyone's eyes you followed her around like a love sick puppy but who could blame you she was perfect the way she walked and talked with such confidence man it was like you worshiped the ground she walked upon.

Clarisse thought of you like a pest honestly but somewhere in her heart she couldn't get why she was so attracted to you.

You saw clarisse walking you had something to give her so you walked up to her

When she saw you she rolled her eyes at you and groaned "what y/n? Here to give me one of your lame gifts?" She said laughing and everyone laughed with her.

"mhm!" You said smiling your was angelic a soft just like your voice nobody can laugh at you when you smile cause you were so pretty you hated just being just a pretty face.

She scoffed and took the gift knowing everyone was watching her you sighed when she walked away.

She looked around to see if anyone was watching then she threw it away she didn't see that someone was watching that someone had to be the new kid her name was loral she is claimed by Demeter she spent her time attending to the flowers near the ares cabin sometimes.

Today seemed cold like a thick sad mist today everyone looked at you secretly whispering to each other you sighed you didn't know what it could be but you didn't care clarisse was the only person you cared about you saw her talking to Selina she was your sister though she thought you were weird but she couldn't be rude to you cause you always looked up to her and you were her loving sister.

But her and clarisse are always together you sighed you felt your heart ache with such pain but decided to keep your composure reminding yourself that your sister loves you and would never do that to hurt you were wronged Selina a clarisse laughed together out loud loral saw you watching them a sighed but then you ran away dropping your plate running to the toilets to cry on the floor you sobbed a held your jacket at your chest trying not to panic but then your hear someone.

"Hello?' loral spoke loudly she came to check up on you she wasn't your friend but everyone has a right to feel happy and not in pain like how you were feeling you kept quiet "hey, y/n I just came to see if you were alright?.."

You gasped "I do not-.. it's obvious is it?.." she looked at you with and approving face you "it's just why didn't she love like I loved her... You know? I guess it was one-sided..."

"loral?, is that you?." You said softly wiping your tears away from your eyes.

"yeah, I saw what happened, just came to see if you were doing okay, you know?..'" she said with the symphony given to her mother

"I'm alright...!" You said with glassy eye re-applying your lipgloss about to walk out

She grabbed your hand softly with no force on her grasp "y/n.. its not fine if you bottle things up, I know you love clarisse.." she said smiling at you

Loral sighed and walked up to you and grabbed both of your hands "didn't you feel down the line that she liked you back at least once?..." She said looking you in the eyes.

Maybe you did feel like that at some point her cruel way of loving you but you always told yourself to be positive and kind while your sister was talking about how annoying you were a clarisse giggle.

Today you were walking by the ares cabin and you heard clarisse say your name you knew it was wrong but you decided to listen in on what they said you felt heart broken by what she said

"she is always around me it's like she doesn't have a life." She said coldly as you covered your mouth sobs wanting to come out of your mouth

Then you heard a very familiar voice your heart felt like it was a toy that was used and thrown away into a bin "yeah she follows you around I feel bad for your ear." She held jokingly pinching it and letting it go" "she talks like a parrot speaking and repeating..." You felt like you wanted to leave and just end it here you walked back stepping on stick and you back away .

Clarisse and Selina heard the stick break "shit." You ran away as fast as you could when you passed by the Demeter cabin and knocked on the door clarisse was worried but Selina wasn't clarisse worried if it was you she disliked the way you showed your love towards her but she didn't hate you for it clarisse went looking for you cause she knew it had to be you.

Tears streamed down your face when loral opened the door you let out a shaky sigh of hurt your glassy eyes and your puffed under lid said it all loral gasped and just gave you a big hug, feeling safe in her arms you let out your tears crying a sobbing and trying to catch your breath "she... Doesn't.." you sobbed into her shoulder as loral tried grazing her hand on your back feeling your pain so hard .

When clarisse found you she saw you in her arms instead of yours her rage grew and she clenched her fist in jealousy she hated you but loved you at the same time when her gaze fell upon you and her hand just let go in that moment seeing loral hold you with such sympathy and seeing you cry into her arms loral spoke "my gosh, y/n... I know you loved clarisse but she doesn't deserve someone with such a kind selfless soul..." She said wiping your tears away from your sad beautiful eyes.

Clarisse knew it was true cause after what she said about you she knew you didn't deserve a kind hearted girl like you but what made it painful to her was to hear it, it started pouring down rain as your hair got wet loral took you inside with a comforting smile whilst holding your hand.

Clarisse just stood there in the rain her curls weighing down from the rain water that got caught in your beautiful hair as she dreamed that you were the one holding her hand leading you into her cabin she sighed walked back into her cabin she shouldn't have said those things tomorrow she'll make it right again.

"I feel so bad." She said to herself she wished she never said that stuff about you she missed you talked her ear off the way you used to give her gifts she missed you in general.

Your eyes were so puffy you wore a black long sleeved T-shirt under your shirt and wore some baggy jeans a thanked loral for helping you so much she never wanted anything more but to help you you were her best friend.

The whole day you ignored the world around you ignored your so called sister a clarisse you walked by them see with your puffed up red eyes, clarisse noticed in archery how bad you actually were and how you felt after hearing her say that.

She felt like she was guilty but after class at lunch she came up to you "y/n? I want to speak to you" clarisse with guilt and heartache.

You sighed, you're not one to hold a grudge so you replied "yeah okay..." You said as she told you to follow her "yes, clarisse?.." you said with such a soft and angelic voice given to you by your mother.

"y/n, I'm sorry for how I treated you..." She said dodging your eye contact.

"for what?, it's clear to me that I'm just clingy and annoying, or maybe that I'm an on-repeat parrot, or that I'm just a girl that doesn't have a life, but its not my fault, I fell in love with you clarisse!." You sobbed about to leave but clarisse stopped you

She was speechless and felt so guilty now "what?..." Why did she do that she said to herself she always ruined everything she did she ruined it for herself and others that was what she said to herself.

"y/n, I really love you I might have just realized it now but I do." She said it made your heart was pounding really hard in the moment.

"I love you too, but you better not be lying to me." You said with jokingly

"don't worry I won't lie to you sweetheart" she said as gently kissed your forehead.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue angst #clarisse la rue fluff #clarrise la rue

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erenoir · 10 months

Text

𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

💿 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚏𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚣𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛

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

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

featuring: toji x fem step-mom!reader

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

word count: 14.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All mine, Toji thought, all fucking mine.

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

My god, you thought, he looks just like-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Toji-” You reached for him.

“No… please hear m- me out…”

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

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

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

“Toji… I just have so many questions-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

Toji knew you would stick around for a while.

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have to leave-“ He began.

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

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

“I don’t fucking care-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” he cut you off, “No, never.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You are all I have left-“ He pushed.

“As you are to me!” You bit back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get up,” he choked.

You refused.

“Get. Up!”

“No.”

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

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

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

“You can’t say that-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Toji- fuck! Please, please-”

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

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

“Cum.”

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

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

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

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

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

Mama.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Toji-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m close,” he seethed.

“Me too,” you whispered.

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

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

He smiled, “Pick a wild card.”

You smiled back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t?” He smirked.

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

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

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

“...Just this once, asshole.”

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

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thecreelhouse · 16 days

Note

“What did you just say?” WOAH

hi bb! apologies for the wait and for getting a lil carried away on this one, but I hope you enjoy it <3 just a lil over 2k, enemies to lovers, mean(ish)!steve, dacryphilia, etc.

You hate slow shifts at work.

Correction: you hate slow shifts while working with Steve.

It was busier in the first half of the day, or so Robin said before clocking out, but once evening fell on a quiet Wednesday night, there had to be about 5 or so customers that came into the store. All spaced out by hours dragging in between.

Those hours drag much more when Steve’s around. You’ve come close to quitting a few times after working together, but once you found it brought him only more satisfaction to make you miserable, you decided to tough it out, stay out of pure spite.

That spite only encouraged Steve to become insufferable, burrowing under your skin any chance he’d get. It’s just been a back and forth, one-upping competition of who could be more terrible to the other ever since. Robin has tried mediating between the both of you with no progress in sight. Keith has warned you both, separately and together, that you’re on thin ice if this keeps up.

A shitty job at Family Video was not worth all of this stress, but you can’t bring yourself to back down now. Steve, still cocky and competitive when the right things set him off, couldn’t lose to you and your spiteful, bratty antics.

By now, neither of you could even remember why you couldn’t stand the other, but any reason wouldn’t matter now anyway. Something, something about Steve claiming you’re some “washed up slut”, how you always believe you’re right in any situation, and other shit that rolls off your back by now. You’ve thrown ugly remarks in return, something along the lines of him being a “failure whose only friends are a bunch of kids”, how it’s only the desperate girls throwing themselves at him, stuff like that.

All of that tension and fury have to lead to something eventually.

It only leads somewhere that you least expect.

Steve’s pocketing his third number of the night, given by yet another girl he lays the generic flirting on thick with.

With a wink, he tells her, “I’ll call you later.”

You retch behind him at the far end of the counter. She never notices, but Steve sure does. When the girl leaves, it’s just you and Steve alone in the store, your least favorite time of closing shifts with him.

Striding over to the front door, you lock it and flip the “closed” sign, mocking Steve as you mutter under your breath, “I’ll call you later.” Your tone’s whiny, comical, but Steve’s not laughing.

“Jesus, try a little harder if you’re gonna poke fun at me,” He rolls his eyes, leaning against the counter with his eyes on you. When you turn around, you spot the way his stare lingers on your legs, on display in the skirt you decided to wear. “Y’know, I don’t think that skirt’s short enough for you. Usually you’re flashing more skin than that.”

Your lip curls in a snarl, flipping him off as you walk back to the counter. You gather some tapes to return to the shelves, throwing over your shoulder, “Sorry, Harrington, the free shows are over.”

It doesn’t shake his stare off as you walk away; he’s pissed you always wear outfits that only accentuate your body’s features. Makes it harder for him to focus on work, or flirting with other girls. You’re the worst distraction Steve’s ever encountered.

You don’t even need to turn around to feel his gaze on you. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer, loser.”

With a disgusted huff, Steve grabs another stack of tapes to restock on the opposite side of the store. He can’t even focus on such a basic task, though. He’s bothered, to say the least; he’s shed the ‘King Steve’ persona years ago, realizing his faults while becoming a better person, for not just himself, but everyone around him.

Except you.

You’re the one person he’s ready to snap over. You’re the one roadblock in his way while he tries his hardest to move forward from his past. You’re the one asshole he considers throwing his progress aside just to make you cry, make you regret treating him like he’s lower than dirt.

Steve can’t think too much about wanting to see you cry, wanting to make you cry— it got him hard last time, and he’s still revolted by his body betraying him like that. It was something he couldn’t shake from his thoughts, not until he finally fucked his fist over the fantasies his lust painted out for him, all involving you.

He’d rather fight off another demogorgon than think of you like that.

You’re humming along to whatever song is playing softly over the store’s speakers, grabbing more tapes to put away. He looks up as you pass the aisle he’s in, noticing the lollipop in your mouth, and the dirty titles making up the tapes you carry to the back.

Steve knows better, knows he should leave you alone, finish his work, but he follows you into the adult section anyway.

Leaning against the doorframe, he watches you stretch up to the top shelf, unable to hold back as he mouths off, “Damn, you’re fast putting all that porn back, must know ‘em pretty well.”

You look back after settling back on your feet, brow quirking, “Oh, no! A girl watches porn! How scandalous!” You turn back to the shelves, continuing your task. “Get over yourself, Steve.”

That wasn’t the answer he expected, but there wasn’t an answer he had in mind anyway. Instead of leaving you alone, being the bigger person and dropping the insults, for once, he continues to taunt you.

While walking up behind you, Steve asks, “Are you even allowed to wear shit like that here?”

“I wear whatever I wanna wear.” You don’t turn to respond to him, don’t give him the basic respect to make eye contact. “What’s it to you?”

“Just wondering if it’s a slut thing,” He shrugs, grabbing some tapes from your hands. His hand ever so slightly brushes up along your chest, earning a scowl from you, “y’know, wearing skirts for easy access.”

You sputter, choking on air briefly. “I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.”

“For someone who hates me, you sure love talking about my supposed sex life,” You snicker, giving him a once over, making him feel small under your stare. “Then again, I don’t expect anything different from someone who’ll fuck anything that moves.”

You hoped that’d shut him up, even for a moment, but without hesitation he cracks back, “Haven’t fucked you yet, so you might be wrong on that one.”

Face heating up, you’re flustered, until you catch one word that exposes him. “‘Yet’? You bankin’ on a wet dream about me? That’s cute. Dreamin’ big, huh?”

Steve’s running out of ammo to hit back with, faltering in his response, “Y- you wish.”

“What’s there to wish for, Steve? You, talking a big game, only to finish for yourself, while whatever girl’s in your bed is left frustrated and faking it for the sake of your fragile ego?” The laugh that leaves your lips, your pretty, pouty lips, the ones he’s always curious to feel around his dick, hits him hard. His face falls, too stunned to come back with a damaging response. “Yeah, I’m good.”

You replace the last tape in your hands, heading for the door. Steve, though, isn’t finished with this mess he started.

“What did you just say?” He catches your arm in his hand, yanking you towards him. You’re caught off guard, eyes wide as you look up at him.

Shaking off the surprise with a smirk, you taunt him, mirroring an earlier response he gave you, “You heard me.”

Steve pulls the lollipop from your mouth, earning a gasp while he places it in his mouth; he’s backing you up against the wall, arms on either side of you caging you in. “You need something bigger to keep that bratty mouth quiet, huh?”

He kicks at your feet, and you take the hint to spread your legs; his leg pushes between yours, but not close enough to give the pressure or friction you need for some relief.

“Knew you’d be fuckin’ easy,” The way his voice drops low, face close to yours while his eyes are blown out with lust, dark and full of trouble, it hitches your breath, causing you to clench around nothing with a whine. It’s soft, airy, but loud enough for him to catch it. “Y’let all these guys touch you… fuck you… bet none of ‘em ever tamed you, though.”

You huff and look away, but Steve grabs your face roughly, pulling your stare back to him.

“Answer me.” He throws the lollipop to the floor, needy for something more between his own lips.

You hate this. All of this. You hate how easy it is for him to shape you from a hardened brat to a submissive mess. Worst of all, you hate how much you love this entire scenario.

Steve’s giving you what other guys never give— a chance to brat out, to fight back, earn a struggle that builds pleasure like no other, running straight to your core.

“Get fucked, Stev—“ He shoves three fingers into your mouth, silencing you quickly. You’re going to give in quickly, he can tell by the way you don’t hesitate to swirl and roll your tongue around him. He groans, pushing his thigh against your core; your gasp is muffled, mouth still occupied.

It only takes seconds for Steve to feel it, “Christ, you’re fucking wet… knew it.”

You pull the fingers from your mouth, brows pinching together, annoyed. “How the hell would you know— oh—“ He grabs your hips, rolling you onto his leg slowly, back and forth, enjoying the way your jaw drops just from this alone.

Steve chuckles, hands leaving you as you continue grinding against him; he grabs your hands to pin them above your head, leaning in dangerously close to you. “Could smell how sweet ya’ are all night.”

Embarrassment flows through you, making you feel hot and lightheaded. “I- I haven’t been— that’s— you’re lying!”

“You know how hard it’s been not to bend you over the counter and make you take me right there?” His lips ghost over your trembling ones. “Show you what brats get when they’re outta line? Fuck, every time y’bent over, I’d get hard thinking ‘bout just spanking you, making you take every hit ‘til you cry.”

“Then do it already, quit being all talk and no—“ Steve pushes off the wall, leaving space between the two of you. You’re panting and aching and pissed off. Angry that he’s toying with you like this, how he’s doing everything right, the way you’ve always fantasized, like he’s inside your thoughts.

You’re so angry, the emotion lines your eyes with tears, threatening to spill over. Your bottom lip wobbles into the most pathetic, shameful pout that’s ever appeared on your face. Steve, on the other hand, is pleased as he witnesses you unravel from just being teased and humiliated alone.

You’re about to break; you can’t take this anymore. You need him on you, in you, or whatever he’ll offer at this point.

“Steve… please?” You hate hearing the words fall out of your own mouth. You sound so desperate, look desperate too as a tear finally slips down your face.

Taking pity on you, he strides back your way, flipping you to face the wall as he pulls your backside out towards him. Your legs spread automatically, wishing he’d touch you sooner if you’re compliant. His hands slide up and under your skirt before tugging your panties down, stealing them once you step out. He backs away for a moment before quickly spanking your cunt, causing you to jolt forward with a yelp.

Steve leans closer to your face, pressed against the wall; one hand holds you in place, while the other shoves the soaked fabric into your mouth, crudely gagging you. His hand winds through your hair, tugging roughly as he speaks to you.

“Here’s the deal, I’m gonna make you cum, as many times as it takes, ‘til you’re really crying for me. Got it?”

You nod feverishly, trying to speak around the fabric. Steve pulls it out.

“One condition.”

His brows knit together, “What’s that?”

“Toss out all those numbers you got today.”

Steve will. He already planned on it before any of this went down, but he refuses to hand over any satisfaction to you just yet.

As he shoves the fabric back between your lips, he mutters coldly, “I’ll think about it.”

#prompts #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut

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pardonmysass · 1 month

Text

Loved Sklonda in this latest episode of FHJY and it really shines a light on how parents can view the interpersonal relationships of teenagers.

Teens are so incredibly secretive, which is just natural at this stage of their development. They feel more grown up, more interested in making their own decisions and so want as little input as possible from their parents, even the ones with the exact experience that could help. It's the struggle of every parent to watch their kid grow and make mistakes and not ask for help all the time.

And because teens don't always share, a parent sometimes only has their own observations to work from. She sees Riz who has taken on so much, not just for himself, but for his friends and she doesn't see the other side of things.

Riz, who is terrified of not getting a scholarship that will pay for college despite his good grades. Who sees probably more than he lets on how Adaine struggles with the weight of being the Elven oracle and also broke and abandoned by her parents. He sees Gorgug struggling with his rage and his place in the world. He sees Fabian's loneliness and his desire to look strong & put together. How Fig really cares and is trying so hard but has no idea how to go about it in a healthy way. And Kristen. Oh he sees how Kristen is spiraling and trying to put herself back together and trying to come to terms with her faith. He sees how she is grasping at anything for purpose and how grateful she is about his support.

And I think, even if he doesn't see it clearly, he knows they want to help. It shows up in the way they just started taking their classes seriously. I know that Fabian was inviting Riz and everyone over to Lofi Study Night to at least make him comfortable. Adaine is definitely worrying over Riz, even if she doesn't know what to do and is going through her own stuff. And Fig sending that card to Riz? Ok, she signed it as Gorgug, but it's the acknowledgment that he needed to know he was being seen. And the reaction to the card being one of such immense gratitude and sentimentality towards Gorgug, that rather than correct the situation and find out who actually sent the card, Gorgug saw how much his friend needed care and gave him a gift to go along with it. Because he may not have sent the card, but dangit it's a good idea!

I see a group of friends who love each other deeply and want to be there for each other, but don't know how to get around what life is throwing at them to do it.

And Sklonda has literally no way of knowing any of this. She is working so hard and probably dealing with her own guilt of not being able to be there for him as much as she would like and all she is seeing is the aftermath of the Bad Kids, not what they are actually doing. While I'm sure she does care about them, her priority is her son and she sees how he struggles and in the face of not knowing what the solution could be, she instead tries to loosen his grasp on the stress he's taking on for them. Because she worries he's becoming a people pleaser and won't get anything back for it.

It's a beautiful miscommunication that I don't know will (or should) get resolved. Because your first hardcore group of friends, the ones you would die for, is so important. And one day, she will either see how much they did for each other, or she won't, but what matters is the love. They love him, he loves them and his mom and would do whatever it took to make them happy and that is special.

#fantasy high #dimension 20 #riz gukgak #i'm not crying you are

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alaezasmystery235 · 1 year

Text

↛𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ↛𝗣𝗜𝗖𝗞 𝗔 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗗𝗦

꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝒶 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝒹 ; 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗙𝘂𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗦𝗽𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲

rules, disclaimer and notes ☆

⋆·˚ 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 ⋆·˚ ----- This reading was made for entertainment purposes only. this is obviously a general reading so takes what resonates and leave when it doesn't, you don't need to force your energy to read this and leave such a bad comment just to say it doesn't resonates with you at all because the answer is very obvious!

⋆·˚ 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐞 ⋆·˚ ----- All of the pictures are collected and downloaded from 'pinterest' i don't own any of them but credits goes to the rightful owners however edits goes and belong to me only @alaezasmystery . I use the editor tools canva and kapwing for the header and divider. Extra credit to @daninixx for giving permission to use her rules and disclaimer.

⋆·˚ ༘ 🍋 ✧*

ＰＩＬＥ 1

Instantly, I'm getting strong Leo energy here . I feel that your future spouse's love language is more on the physical touch and quality time spent together . I feel that you guys are gonna be having a lot of passionate love making in the bedroom .

This is someone who treasures every moment spent with you. I feel that they may not look like the kind or really sweet talk. But they are hella romantic and gonna notice every single little things about you.

I feel that both of you love travelling and be out in the nature more. So do see them bring you out more for walks sitting by bench and bringing you out to See the stars .

You may catch sometimes staring at you more often but not in the creepy way rather than in adoring way. I feel like you're gonna think if you are truely blessed to have them . I feel like they suck at communication , but rest assured they are gonna show you.

Actions speak louder then words ... afterall 😉.

ＰＩＬＥ 2

For this pile I am getting a strong Taurus energy . I feel that your future spouse's love language is more on act of service to you . I feel that they will put you on a pedestal and be very protected over you . They're gonna be treating you like a queen or King .

At times, you'd feel like they are being very gaurded and they might hover over you and when there are other people around or sensing someone trying to get too close to you . I feel that they can be throwing a little jealous comments but it's not that they are possessive . It's cause they want you all to themselves . It's kinda cute how would they react , they are like a baby who wants your attention on them only.

They are someone who will go distance for you . I feel like that they will work together with you to build a strong Foundation . I heard " built an Empire for you because you are my queen or king " .

They would want to take things one step at a time because they believe that good thing takes time . I feel that they are gonna have this endearing gaze on you when you guys have a kid together .

ＰＩＬＥ 3

For this pile I am getting air sign and fire sings more . I feel that your future spouse's love language is more on the quality time and giving / receiving gifts .

I get this cheeky vibe from pile 3 . The way they show their love isn't how many would show. They will be acting like a child and always teasing you to get your attention but when they do get you mad they will sulk and feel sad about it .

Like Pile 2 , they are a big baby when it comes to you . I feel that on the another hand they will be working very hard on their pentacles so that they can provide for you .

Some of them may even gift you with a key that symbolises , that you hold the key to their heart . I feel that they will shower you with random gifts and flowers . I feel that your future spouse is quite the adventurer, a cheeky one I'd say ....

I feel that they will want to do crazy stuff with you like out of the blue . They see you as this light that lights up their world . I am hearing " you are my sunshine " . Just know that sometimes they didn't mean to annoy you , they were just trying to make you smile and to get your attention on them by doing something silly .

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bravo4iscool · 4 months

Note

Levi Baby🖤

The way I adore you for pairing Simon with a Chubby girl. I bring a thot to you if you're interested:

Bodyguard!Simon Ghost Riley x chubby f!reader

- He's newly retired , gets asked for a favor from Price for a friend's kid

- Said kid is a mid 20's thicc woman who is all business since she's a lawyer in Human Rights and involved with the UN.

- He thinks she's going to be a snob based off looks bc girl loves to dress and she does it well, she observes Simon as he is. Brooding, Haunted and Self Assureed with a drizzle of dark humor but loyal.

- They get off on the wrong foot [Simon was being an irrational ass forgetting his manners and respect], reader isn't scared of him and doesn't take lightly to being disrespect3d for no apparent reason.

- They're holed up living together under the radar since the thr3at to reader was pretty big seeing it was world leaders

- They're going to have to learn to live with each other, where Simon barks orders - reader is anamused and calmly condescends. He can't even get annoyed bc she's antisocial and a houseplant but he's trying

- doesn't help that he's so.so attracted to her.

*make this as suggestive as you want (give ghost heart attacks with her choice of home clothes please. We know he's touch straved, emotionally constipated and needed a therap session.

Make her stress him out by confronting all of that in her short fiery demon way please.

I hope your new year is sweet Love💋

oh lord. oH LORD. how can you write this and not think about me fainting😭 THIS IS- URGH- AMAZING AHHHQGACQGQVQZQZAVQ!!!!

i hope i can do this justice😭 normally i try to imitate simon’s accent but bro… i was just too tired to do it now, so i hope you can forgive me for that🥲

KEEP HITING ME WITH STUFF LIKE THIS OH MY GOD😩

not really happy but i tried my best :) also not proof-read!

(masterlist)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

“There’s no but’s!” Simon argues while almost dragging you—his protégée—along the hallway inside the safe house. “You’re in danger and it’s my job to protect you!”

“I’ve been perfectly fine on my own before,” you argue, trying your best to wriggle away from his grip. You hated it when he manhandled like that.

He turns around, his eyes fiercely staring down at you and you feel like they’re piercing through your soul. “Have you ever had the Taliban threaten you, huh? Or fucking ISIS? I don’t think so; so stop whining and follow me!”

You want to argue with him, tell him he’s not allowed to talk to you that way but damn, you knew he was right. Ever since you started working for the UN you’ve been threatened—you were getting used to it—but only by small groups not someone like the Taliban.

“We’re gonna stay here until the threat is eliminated for not serious anymore.” His statement leaves little room to argue but you’re itching to say something anyway. It’s wasn’t your nature to just shut up. You were a lawyer, you were used to arguing.

You grimace as you force yourself to accept your fate. You didn’t want to but in the end you knew Simon was right. So, you follow him, an annoyed look on your face. You hated it when he was right.

“It’s only temporary,” he grumbles as he kicks a door open and pushes you inside. “It’s not like I want it, okay?”

You only roll your eyes, throwing a halfhearted ‘whatever’ at him and inspecting the room he hauled you into. “This is where I’m gonna stay?” you ask him, a slight hint of defeat in your voice.

“Pretty much, yes. I’ll be on the other side of the hallway,” he explains, leaning against the door frame. “In case anything happened, of course,” he immediately adds; just so you don’t get a…wrong picture of this whole thing here.

“We got wifi here?” is you next questions when you turn to look at him, your arms crossed in front of your chest.

“No wifi. No contact to the outer world,” is his answer and you feel your blood start to boil.

“You have to be kidding me! How am I supposed to work then?” You throw your hands in the air, letting out an angry huff. “You can’t just cut me off civilisation!”

He only shrugs. “I can and I will. Work can wait, alright? Your life is more important now.” Again his voice leaves no room to argue but this time you won’t take it. You put your hands on your hips, looking up at him.

“You think that’s how it works? Then, please Lieutenant Riley,” you spit out his rank “fly over to the dozens of war criminals and tell them to stop too! Oh wait-“ you act shocked. “That’s not how it fucking works! You can’t expect me to sit still and look pretty while the world drowns in injustice!”

“Would make things a lot easier tho,” he mumbles under his breath while pushing himself off the door frame. “Just…do something that doesn’t require wifi or anything like that, alright?” Before you can even think of an answer he leaves, shutting the door behind him. Why the hell was he treating like some little child?

“How old is she?” Simon wants to know as he hands his old Captain the picture of you back. He’s sat on a chair, his legs spread, one arm resting on the back rest.

“Mid 20s,” Price answers, placing his folded hands onto the table. “She needs security and her father’s not really…trusting the usual companies; and since you’re nearly retired I thought you could use the job.” Simon holds Price’s gaze and nods along. “He trusts me, therefore he trusts you. She’s a lawyer, heavily associated and involved with the UN and human rights.”

“What are the details?” Simon slightly tilts his head, curiously raising his eyebrows.”

“24/7 protection. The full package. You’ve done it before,” Price explains and Simon once again nods along. “Before you take the job tho-“ he pauses. “She’s, well… she’s a lawyer Simon. You need to know what you get into.” The Captains gaze hardens, his back straightening. “She won’t like that she’s on protection detail, therefore she’ll be treating you like that.”

Simon only smirks, flipping his well kept coin between his fingers. “There’s nothing I can’t handle John. I’ve met people like that before and I was perfectly fine.”

Now Price was the one smirking while shaking his head. “I know and I don’t question your abilities but she’s a civilian—the one you’re protecting. You can’t handle this the way you’ve handled other subjects before.”

“I know what I’m getting into,” Simon assures in a calm tone definitely not knowing what he was getting himself into.

“Fucking hell,” Simon mutters when he first sees you. You’re walking straight to you office—the one he was sitting in—involved in a heated talk with that seemed like your secretary.

He’s able to make out single words but well, his hearing wasn’t the best anymore after nearly 20 years of military service. And now he thinks he probably should’ve stayed in the field.

The way you’re waking and talking and dressing just screams ‘snob’ at him. He slightly lowers his head to gaze at you, once again playing with his coin. Maybe he should’ve declined the offer and taken on the underground wrestling instead. Would’ve been more fun for sure.

As soon as you spot your guest you send your secretary away, bracing yourself for the following conversation. You weren’t a fan of getting security and you definitely weren’t a fan of the fact that it was a friend of your father’s friend and he—apparently—was everything but easy.

“Lieutenant Riley,” you greet him, extending your hand to him. When he stands up to his full height you slightly crane your neck; the professional smile still on your face.

“Ma’am,” he greets in a gruff voice, the skin of his hand raw and calloused as he return the handshake. “Pleased to meet you.” He isn’t. He just wants to leave but he brought this on himself so he needs to finish it now. ‘One year’, he told himself. ‘Then I can quit.’

“I can only return the pleasure,” you smile, clearing your throat. “Would you mind sitting down at my desk?” You ask, pointing towards said desk. “I think it’s easier to discuss business over there.”

Simon agrees, towering over you as he makes his way over to one of the chairs in front of the desk. You take place behind it, carefully straightening your blouse. He needs to warn himself not to stare. Fuck, why were you so pretty? A pretty little snob…

“This has to be taken seriously!” Simon raises his voice at you, successfully blocking the door of your office.

“This is nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” you argue with him, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “So please, Simon, let me get out of my office and back to work.”

He huffs, “Not a change. You’ll be staying here until the threat is cleared.” He glances over his shoulder, loving and hating the fact that you had a glass office. “Are these bullet prove?” he asks, looking at you again.

You sigh, “No.”

“We’ll have that changed,” he immediately answers and you start to shake your head.

“We’ll have nothing changed! You weren’t hired to renovate my office!” You walk towards him. “Now, Mr. Riley, please step aside so I can continue working.”

“Not happening.” He straightens up to his full height, expecting you to back off but you do the exact opposite. You swat your finger at him, looking up.

“I don’t care what you think, you will stay here; if you want it or not.” His voice is stern and stoic and you need to do your best to not full on scream at him.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” you hiss, your index finger jabbing his chest. “I can make my own decisions, I’m a responsible adult. So don’t you dare talk down to me that way!”

When Simon doesn’t make a move you let out an angry huff and shake your head. Then you turn away and stalk towards your desk. “Fucking military man,” you curse under your breath, ignoring the way he stared you down.

You stare at your open suitcase, debating what to wear. On the one hand, you kinda were on your own, on the other hand, Simon was with you.

You were comfortable in your body—no question—you actually kinda liked the extra cushions but sometimes you felt like Simon was staring at you. Like he wasn’t able to take his eyes off of you and that made you…feel something. Something you were afraid of.

“Ah fuck it,” you say under your breath, fishing out some shorts and a shirt. You could care less about what Simon thinks. You both are only work related. Nothing else.

You tap down the stairs, walking straight into the kitchen. “You want something to eat?” You ask Simon, glancing at him when you hear him enter.

“You willing to make some?” he jokes, expecting you to say ‘no’ but when you say ‘yes’ his eyes widen and he pauses for a second. When you notice it you let out a small chuckle, opening the fridge and multiple cabinets to see what you could make.

“Any friends that’ll miss you?” he asks once you place a plate in front of him, looking up at you with curious eyes.

You shake your head, “Nope. Not really.” You sit down opposite of him, grabbing your fork. “Too busy to have friends.”

He tilts his head, blindly picking up the food either his fork. “No boyfriend?” He knows you don’t have one. You have no dates, no flings, nothing; but he wants to hear it from you. Maybe then his fantasies wouldn’t be so forbidden…

“Please,” you laugh. “We’d be divorced before we even married.” You take a sip of water and look at him. “I don’t have time for relationships and that kind of stuff. I have a target to pursue. Ain’t no time for distraction.”

He only nods in an understanding manner, playing with his beer bottle. “And you?” you ask. “You got someone?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. I’ve got you to deal with. That’s enough.” He smirks when he sees your facial expression, letting out a low chuckle. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for,” he continues joking. “But no. I don’t have anyone. Never really had.”

“Oh…” you say in an almost pitiful tone and he hates it. It not that he couldn’t get someone. He just didn’t want to. That’s a big difference. “Well not really different for me,” you then snort, slightly grimacing. You had this one guy ask you out for prom but that turned out to be a bet rather fast and after than you decided to not to date in school or university anymore.

Yeah sure, you were more chubby than other girls but that doesn’t mean that you’re not lovable, right? By now you were comfortable in your body—you were in your mid 20’s—but sometimes you felt yourself slipping back into the insecure girl you once were. The one who thought that no man would ever lay his eyes on her in a lustful or loving manner.

Simon’s itching to say something; to ask why you don’t have anyone… You’re perfect. You’re nice—even if he hated to admit it. You’re pretty, you’re so fucking soft… Did the men around you not see that?

“Simon?” You wave your hand around in front of his face, chuckling when he slightly flinches, his pupils blow. “Are you alright?” you carefully ask, eying him as if something was wrong.

But he only clears his throat, “Yes. Everything’s fine.” Then he hastily stands up and nods at you. “Thank you for the food.”

You watch after him as he leaves, a frown on your face. Was he really okay or was he just lying to you?

Simon on the other hand was probably turning red as a tomato. How could he allow himself to slip like that? Fuck, he needed to keep himself better under control.

As soon as he reaches his room he shuts the door and leans against it while opening his pants with shaking hands.

He had a—growing—problem and he needed take care of it. Now.

Approximately one week into the lockdown Simon finds you in the living room, crouched over a bunch of files and documents.

“What’s that?” he wants to know, looking over your shoulder.

“Work,” you simply reply, taking notes and pushing the papers around. You were so close, this close to finally finish this case but something was missing and it stressed you out.

He slowly nods, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “And how did you manage to get these files?”

“I’m a lawyer Simon. I have my ways and connections,” is your plain answer and you can basically feel him tensing behind you.

“What if they give away your location,”

“They won’t.”

“How can you be sure?” He tries his best to be calm but god, you were testing his nerves. He gave you strict orders and you were supposed to follow them.

You turn around with an annoyed sigh, looking up at him. “Because my father brought me those. You think he would sell me out to the enemy? I doubt so.”

You raise your eyebrow, waiting for any other complaint by him but be only looks at the files behind you, then at you again. “Maybe check the mission reports of the special forces.” With that he leaves you alone, more than confused.

You know why Simon told you what he told you when you find what you need exactly there. The mission reports were sitting somewhere beneath everything else because you didn’t pay much attention to them; in the end they were the solution.

Now you could finally link the crimes to someone and with that to the government or the military at least.

The next time you see Simon you almost jump into his arms, thanking him over and over again. “Now the case is finally closed,” you tell him with a big grin on your face, completely forgetting that you’re usually not so happy when around him.

Simon just awkwardly pats your back, pushing you off him and ignoring the burning desire deep within him. He knew it was risky to give you a tip but you were struggling and he didn‘t like that. He just hoped that you wouldn’t ask him why he knew that you should look at the mission reports. Once you knew that he was a war criminal this job would be over. And while you certainly were a pain in the ass sometimes he felt a very present attraction towards you.

Simon realises he’s a goner when he wakes up one morning and sees you walking around in a shirt. Just a shirt, as far as he can see and it does something to you. His hands are itching to touch you and he finds himself excusing himself more and more to the bathroom.

And you? You started to notice the kind of power you have over him and it makes you boast with pride. You, a chubby little lawyer in your mid 20s, has him, an almost 40 year old retired military Lieutenant, wrapped around your little finger.

After that you decide to play a little game. Wouldn’t hurt, no? Just subtle touches. Brushing his arm when you walk past him, patting his chest when he helps you with something, your legs touching his whenever you sit beside him.

He tries to shrug it off but you can practically feel how worked up he gets and how hard it is for him to keep him shit together; and that fuels you only more. How long would it take for him to break? To crumble beneath your touch, huh? You wanted, no, you needed to find that out.

Simon knows what you were doing. He isn’t stupid but he hates it. How was he so weak that you were able to play with him like that?

After a week, maybe two of you dancing around him he has you caged in against the kitchen counter, towering over you.

“What makes you think you can just play with me like that, huh?” he asks in a low voice, his eyes scanning your face for any reaction. “You think it’s funny? Working me up like that every day?”

You try not to be intimidated—or turned on—by him but god, he’s just- you don’t have any words for it. He’s tall, broad and fucking strong. You once got a look at the muscles under all his clothes and you weren’t the same after that. Nu-uh.

“I thought you like it,” you reply with a cocky grin, trying to overshadow your uncertainty. “Do you want me to stop?” You blink at him, acting all innocent and pure. In the corner of your eye you see his grip on the counter tightening. Oh, you had him where you wanted him.

A ‘bloody hell’ is all you get before his lips crash down onto yours and he heaves you on top of the counter. His hands find their way to your hips, scarred fingers tracing them and squeezing, wanting to pull you even closer.

The moment his lips touch yours you forget everything else. This is want you wanted—needed—for weeks. And lord, that man knew what he was doing.

You weren’t a fan of him dragging and pushing you around but right now? Right now you couldn’t wish for anything else. You bury your hands in the dirty kind strands of hair on the back of his head, gently pulling at them which results in him groaning in your mouth.

“Take me to the bedroom and maybe I’ll stop teasing you,” you breathlessly tell him once he breaks the kiss only to kiss you again immediately making you all hot and tingly.

You can feel him smirk against his lips before they trail down your neck towards your collar bone. “Ain’t gonna take you anywhere love,” he whispers and you’re able to once again feel him smirk against your skin. “Gonna fuck you right here on that kitchen counter. You want that?” he looks up at you through hooded eyes, which makes you swallow.

“Words love, words.” His tone is playful even tho you can see the desperation in the way his hands move all over your body, letting you see stars already.

“Yes…please,” you almost choke out, feeling like everything you want to say is being swallowed my your throat again. You’re unable to talk.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Simon teases, straightening up to kiss your lips again, cupping your cheek. “Gonna take good care of you,” he promises. “I’m gonna show you how a real man treats you,” he swears and you can feel a familiar but also unfamiliar heat building in the pit of your stomach.

(i got scared to write the rest👍🏼. i’m sorry, i’m still new to writing smut😭)

319 notes · View notes

danikamariewrites · 2 months

Note

First off, I always love reading your work. Makes me smile when I’m going through it 🫶🏻

Could you do rhys x reader or maybe a batboys head canon for how they’d take care of you while life seems to be out to get you? Like every time you think your problems are solved, something blows up in your face? Maybe like something breaks in your flat, and then something crazy happens at work, and then like you get sick or something and reader is just super down and rhys/batboys are trying to bring her back up? Taking care of her and stuff?

Sorry if this is too confusing or similar to anything you’ve had before, my brain is a little short-circuited tonight lol and I’ve been kinda going through it so I can’t think straight

Dry Your Tears

Bat boys x reader

A/n: I dream of the three of them taking care of me. Also I’m sorry babe, I’m also going through it so we’re together on this

Warnings: Tamlin being mean to reader, anxiety, and fluff

Your luck for charming High Lords and their advisors has finally run out

You were on a roll on your little tour of Day, Winter, and Summer

But coming home from other courts empty handed sucked

Especially when it was the spring court

With Tamlin finally back in power with a group of advisors and his court put together he’s been full of himself acting all high and mighty

Yesterday was your first time there since the court was put together

Of course it was all males who didn’t respect you one bit and Tamlin was no help either

The spring high lord was very condescending and it brought out your insecurities about your place in the court

Tamlin also targeted your relationship with the boys, pointing out other flaws there

You slept in your own bed once you arrived at the town house since you left Spring so late

As you fell into a fitful sleep you dreaded the paper work you had to do in the morning

The next morning you found a note on the kitchen table from Rhys that read, Sorry we missed you darling. Emergency in Windhaven. We’ll be back tomorrow morning. We love you very much

You frown at the note but smile at the little heart drawn at the end

After breakfast you set out to do paperwork with infrequent visits from Amren about updates on court matters

Getting to the Spring Court report drained you

Just thinking about it makes your skin itch

You get up deciding to take a walk to clear your head

The walk didn’t help. It simply made things worse

There was too much around the town house that didn’t feel right to you. Like you needed to reorganize

But now you wanted new furniture and things bc the throw pillows didn’t look right and the couch looked too old

To distract from that you went into the kitchen to find a snack only to realize none of the boys went grocery shopping (who are you kidding it’s Nuala and Cerridwen that do it)

You slammed the cabinet shut

With the slam of the cabinet a cough crept up your throat

It was dry and you felt like you couldn’t breathe

You shouldn’t have traveled to Winter then Spring

Ignoring what the cough meant you remembered your report for Rhys and stomped back to your office

The report took way longer than you would’ve liked

Thinking about Tamlin and his comments about your relationship made you blood boil

As your anger washed away it turned into anxiety and sadness and doubt

Are you capable of this job if these males get to you so easily? Is your relationship and mating bond with the boys going to last?

You needed to shake this off. You closed your side of the bond as to not worry your mates. They don’t need to worry about you right now

You kept stewing in your anxiety and anger for the rest of the day

Amren left at 5 so you had dinner alone with what was left in the house. You’d go shopping tomorrow when your head was clear and you weren’t pissed at the fact that the boys forgot

Sleep evaded you that night as you wished your boys were here to hold you and whisper sweet nothings to you

Your cough kept you up all night as well

By the time the sun was up you were curled against against the headboard. Your eyes watering from that dry cough you’ve developed. You didn’t feel like moving, you were too tired. Too tired to even greet your mates at the door

Cassian’s heavy, booted footsteps come up the stairs first

Tears pricked your eyes from exhaustion and anxiety

Azriel silently pushed your bedroom door open, making his way over to your bed. “Hey princess, whats wrong?” You sniffle and start to cry harder into his chest

Without hesitating Az picked you up, rushing you to your shared bedroom. Rhys and Cass stop unpacking and move to comfort you

“My darling, why are you so upset?” You look up at the three of them with the saddest look on your face. Cassian wipes your tears with his thumbs giving you an equally sad look

You look back at Rhys tapping your temple for him to look at your memories. Rhys nods and you close your eyes

He shares your memories of the Spring meeting and your day yesterday. When it was over you opened your eyes to see Az and Cass fuming. Rhys was giving you a sympathetic look. “Darling, no. You do not listen to a word they say. You do not believe them. Everything they said was a lie, alright.” Rhys said firmly, cupping your face in his large hands

“You are our world, sweetheart. Don’t think for a second that you aren’t important.” Cassian stressed, kissing your forehead

The next few days are spent taking care of you and cheering you up

You read together, go out for meals, shopping for clothes books and anything else your heart desired or whatever the boys felt like spoiling you with. The boys even did the grocery shopping

They take turns holding you on their laps, keeping you tucked into their chest as they tell you stories from camp or when they first fell in love with you and other relationship stories

You have to admit, it was hilarious to imagine the people of Velaris staring as their High Lord, the General, and Spymaster food shop

Laughing about it did make you feel better

They spent the next few nights worshiping your body. Paying attention to every part of you that gets a reaction. Working you up to the most earth shattering orgasms you’ve ever had

By the end of the week you had put Tamlin and his court out of your mind, feeling overjoyed at the amount of love your mates show you

286 notes · View notes

its-time-to-write · 11 months

Note

PLEASE i am on my knees for jamie x reader where she’s just crying thinking about all the times he needed someone but no one was there.. and now everything is great, he’s grown and he has so much love and support and he has her but all she can do is sob because when you love someone you wish you were could be there to hold them even if they were 8 and their dad was a dick.. yknow??? AND he’s just holding her face, nodding and reassuring her he’s fine and he has so many people, especially her, and he’s lowkey choked up too

So. This is actually a mix of two writings. The first part is from your request, the second is something I wrote shortly after my very first post. I actually wrote it because I was processing some personal things, so… yeah. Here it is. Just be warned, it talks about abuse and stuff, Jamie’s dad shows up and is his regular, douchey self. If that’s upsetting for anyone, just be aware. If this needs more warnings, let me know.

i don’t know how you keep smiling/i’m just choking almost constantly

“He what?” you whisper, tears streaming down your face. “You’re telling me he took you there and made you do that?”

You’re sitting on your couch in your flat, legs across Jamie’s lap. He’d come over out of nowhere an hour earlier, just knocked on your door and said, “Can we talk?”

You let him in because of course you can talk. You make tea, sit down on the couch, and words just come spilling out of Jamie. It is all about his dad. How he drank, yelled, and hit, precisely in that order. Watching his mum throw him out and accept him back in, in what felt like an endless cycle. Hiding how bad it really was for her because his dad was making her laugh and she was smiling and anyway, it’s not like the bruises were anywhere anyone could see.

Jamie tells you how his dad came to his game the night before, went to the locker room, and how Jamie punched him. He says he’s scared of his dad finding him, because his dad always makes good on a threat, and he doesn’t usually have anyone to talk to but he figured you might be a good listener, what with being his girlfriend of five months and all. He says it all while staring at the chipped mug on your coffee table, the one he insisted you can’t throw out because it’s his favorite, and who care’s if it’s a little damaged? It adds character.

But all you can think about is little eight-year-old Jamie, hiding under his bed and pulling out his front tooth because his dad broke it, so he can tell his mom he just lost it like all the other kids.

You think of what you were doing that year. You would have just turned six, chasing your brother with a fairy wand and a nerf gun, ponytail flying.

The mental image of Jamie under his bed, cowering in a corner, learning to cover up welts and to lie to his mum brings a fresh wave of tears. Just the thought of him being alone makes it feel as though your heart is breaking, and you wish you would have known him then. Your parents would have loved him. Wouldn’t have let his father come around and hit him.

He just finished telling you about Amsterdam, and you can physically feel your soul shatter into pieces on his behalf. The fact that he can’t even remember it is what really gets you.

Jamie, meanwhile has stopped staring at the mug and is now looking at you. “It- it’s alright, love,” he says. “I’m here now, and it’s alright.”

Through blurry eyes, you can see that it is not alright. Jamie’s eyes are watering now too, and he pulls you onto his lap. He wraps his arms around you and you let him bury his head in the crook of your neck.

You sniff and pull yourself together. “No, Jaim, it’s not alright. You can say, ‘I’m alright,’ or ‘I will be alright,’ but what that shithead did to you is not and never will be ok. And I’m glad you’re telling me about it, and I’m only crying because I keep thinking about how you must’ve felt. It’s not because I can’t handle it, because I can. And I want you to know that I’m here for you, and you’re going to be ok.”

Jamie has started shaking in your arms, and you feel a tears start to drop onto your neck.

You run your fingers through his hair and whisper, “You’re ok. I’m here, I’ve got you, and you’re ok. I’m not leaving. You’re ok.”

—

That was the first real time Jamie ever told you about his dad. You’d talk about it periodically, whenever it got really bad, and he also started talking to a therapist. Doctor Sharon, you think her name was? Anyway, he’s getting better in his mind, which is good, because sometimes you don’t know what to do beyond listen. And you do. Soon, Jamie’s stories about his dad begin with, “Dr. Sharon says…” and he’s not as angry anymore. Not as jaded, not as broken. There are still deep cuts, but his spirit is coming back. He’s not broken in such a way that he can’t be put back together, piece by piece.

—

It’s not until you’re out to dinner at your favorite restaurant that something actually happens.

“Jamie,” you say, face serious, empty plates between you.

“Yes, love,” he replies, matching your expression.

“I think that we should get ice cream.”

His face breaks into a smile as he slides his hand off the top of yours to run it through his hair. “Babe. We just ate enough food to put a horse into a coma, and you want ice cream? What about digestion?”

“Jamie. Listen-” you both argue as he pays the bill, takes your hand again, and swings it while you head in the direction of the ice cream shop.

“-And if you think about it, it’s actually a wise food choice,” you continue.

“Babe,” he laughs, “I just think that you might be making up the health benefits of strawberry ice…”

Jamie's counter-argument has trailed off as he stares at something ahead of you, rather someone who is stumbling down the sidewalk in your direction.

You have never seen this man before, but you know exactly who he is.

He's still a good seven feet away when he yells, “Well, well, look who it is. Me son, who can’t even take the time to return his own father’s phone calls! Just joking, just joking, hey? And who’s this fine little lady?” he asks, punctuating his words with a few fake punches in Jamie’s direction as he draws closer.

Jamie is still holding your hand, but has maneuvered himself in between you and his father. He has yet to say anything, so you take your cue from him and keep silent.

James Tartt, Sr. is in front of you now, and it is more obvious now than ever that he is intoxicated. He's swaying a little bit as he stands, and there is the stench of alcohol with each breath he blows. Jamie is holding your hand so tight that it hurts, but you don’t let go. You grip it back.

“Dad,” Jamie says as a way of greeting, face taut.

You're under a streetlight, but not many people are around this time of night.

“Jamie,” his father replies, mocking his serious tone, “is this how I find out you’ve got a girl? Runnin’ into you on the street? Couldn't have sent me a quick message about it, hey? Oh I joke, I joke,” he says. His words are grating, and he keeps punching at Jamie. You do not like it at all.

“What d’you want, dad?” Jamie asks, gripping your hand harder, if that’s even possible.

His dad wipes his face. “Ey, listen, since you’re ‘ere, what do you say you get me tickets to the Man City game this weekend? Can spend some quality time with this one.” He winks at you in a way you’re sure he thinks is endearing, which is a problem because three things happen in rapid succession: his dad makes a rude comment about quality time, Jamie pushes you behind him saying, “Don’t you ever fucking speak to her,” and James Tartt shouts, “You self-righteous, fuckin’ pussy!” and moves to hit Jamie.

You’re not sure which one of you he’s talking to, but it doesn’t matter because Jamie’s dad is on the ground and people are starting to stare. You pull Jamie’s still clenched fist down and say, “Babe, let’s get out of here,” while James Tartt is drunkenly trying to stand.

“Babe,” you say a little more forcefully. “let’s go.”

Jamie snaps out of it, lets out a short, “Right, yeah,” and then you’re walking as fast as you can in the opposite direction.

Not fast enough, apparently, because you still hear his father yell, “That's two you’ve got on me, boy! You better watch your back!”

You have no circulation in your hand and for the first time that night, you feel real fear. Not for yourself, but for Jamie. You may have never met his father, but you’ve heard enough. You know that he always makes good on a threat.

Jamie looks back twice to make sure you aren’t being followed, and you just walk. You walk a mile past your flat and then circle back. Jamie hasn’t said a single word, just held your hand like it was the only thing anchoring him to the world. It's not until you’re on your doorstep that you decide to break the silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You’re facing each other, you one step above him so you’re almost eye-level.

Jamie shakes his head and looks away. “Not- not tonight. I don’t think I can- I’m not sure-”

“Hey,” You slowly lift your free hand and brush a stray strand of hair from his forehead. Not slowly enough, apparently, because he still flinches almost imperceptibly, “It’s alright, Jaim. We don’t have to talk about it tonight.”

Jamie blows out a sigh, and you slide your hand from his hair to his cheek. He just looks so tired, all the anger and defensiveness gone out of him.

“Your place or mine?” you ask because there’s no way in hell you’re letting him be alone tonight.

Jamie shakes his head slightly. “I can’t. I have training tomorrow.”

“Jamie-”

“No, look, I just need something to be normal. And I don’t want you coming over in case me dad fuckin’ decides to come ‘round. I'll come over tomorrow after practice and we can talk then.”

He says it with such resigned finality that you don’t fight him on it. You whisper a soft “alright,” and then wrap your arms around him as tight as they can go. Jamie hugs you so hard you almost can’t breathe, but you don’t ever want to let him go; you memorize the feel of his arms around you, his head in the crook of your neck, and the erratic beat of his heart.

He lets you go after a long moment, waits to make sure that you get inside safely, and then you watch him begin the two-block trudge to his house.

You stay awake until your phone dings with a made it from Jamie, and then, despite all the thoughts swirling in your head, you fall asleep.

——

You startle awake by someone yelling outside, followed by a loud knocking. You squint at the clock which reads an awful one a.m. for a split second you wonder if it’s Jamie at your door, then you catch a word this person is yelling.

Whore.

You’re wide awake now. You grab your phone to text Jamie as his father continues to pound on your door yelling, You stupid fucking bitch, no one messes with James Tartt, I’ll make you fucking pay for that shit he pulled!

The text goes through and you wait a second before calling 999. They answer your call and promise that someone will be over right away. You know for a fact Jamie is still asleep, but you call him just in case and his sleep-deprived voice answers on the third ring. You can only get out a few words - outside, your dad, police - before he is wide awake and on his way over.

——

It's all kind of a blur, really, and you feel truly horrendous, but all you can think about is Jamie. You’re not really sure how he does it, but he is at your flat right before the police. All your neighbor’s lights are on now, and Jamie is in your doorway holding you tight.

You think about how awful this must be for him.

It's his dad. It’s like being a kid all over again.

You’re supposed to be the one person who he can feel safe around, but now you’re asking him to step into a volatile situation.

He got woken up in the middle of the night when he needs his sleep, which resulted in him seeing his dad get arrested.

All you can say is, “I'm sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again, as you try not to cry into Jamie’s pajama shirt.

He pulls back a little and wipes a stray tear from your cheek.

“Your place or mine?” he asks, because there’s no way in hell he’s letting you be alone tonight.

You shake your head. “Neither,” you say. “You have training in two hours.”

“Yours,” he says as he gently backs you into the flat and shuts the door.

“What about Roy?” you ask. Roy gets pissed if Jamie skips training.

Jamie pulls out his phone and narrates as he types: “Granddad. Won't be at training this mornin. If you’re mad about it you can go fuck yourself,” and then presses send.

You have the bizarre urge to laugh. “Jamie, you did not type that.” You try to grab his phone from him but he holds it out of your reach and shuts it off.

“Oi. We’re going to sleep and we ain’t thinkin about anything until 10 tomorrow, yeah?”

“Ok,” you say.

He takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom, where you finally fall asleep in a tangle of limbs.

You might not be ok right now, but you will be. You’ll both be alright.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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seeingivy · 11 months

Text

three days

roommate eren x f!reader

three years can feel like an eternity, if you let them

**find the mini-series masterlist here

content warning: eren being miserable, jean being annoying again, hitch being even worse

an: ok I promise we return to regularly scheduled sweet boy eren after this (which is almost done being written) :00000

previous part linked here

Eren doesn’t sleep well. Some part of him was always flighty - twisting and turning every time he heard a noise, the fan whirring, the room creaking. He’d been like that, since he was a kid.

His mom had mentioned that when she visited the nursery for the first time, right after he was born, that the only reason Zeke could point him out in the row of other boys was because he was rustling, struggling against his swaddle.

The only thing that put him at ease? Kept him still through the night? You. When you would still sleep in his bed.

The first night, after you so quickly mentioned that the two of you were a mistake, he couldn’t sleep. He could still smell you, your peach scent pressed against his pillows and his blankets. He runs his hand against his pillow cases, wishing you were here with him.

The following morning, it took him thirty minutes to brace himself. To face you. He has to fight the urge - to touch you, press himself against you and kiss you full on the mouth. Like he should have, when you asked him to.

He should have just done it. Maybe you’d still be here with him if he would have. Screw Zeke. All that shit about making a special moment, making your heart flutter. He should have just kissed you.

When you were in the bathroom, getting ready. When you put his necklace on, when he lost you in the crowd, when he carried you at the concert, when you kissed his fucking cheek, when you asked him to.

He braced himself. Deep breaths, grounding techniques. Just like Mikasa and Armin taught him. When he leaves the safe confines of his room, he finds that your key was off the hook and your sneakers were absent from the door. You left already. You’re avoiding him just as much as he’s avoiding you.

You don’t return that night. He’s okay with it. He can’t see you. Not yet anyways.

It worries him, the second day. You still haven’t returned. He couldn’t have messed up that badly, could he? You couldn’t hate him this much, so much so that you wouldn’t come home.

He marches over to the office, where Armin, Jean, and Annie are supposed to be. He’s hoping you’ll be there. That he’ll open the door and find you there, sprawled across the floor like you usually are.

But you’re not. Just Jean, Armin, and Annie - staring him down.

“What’s wrong with you, Eren? Why are you…panting?”

“Nothing, Annie. I just thought Y/N might be here.”

“She’s out of town. Left a late notice yesterday morning for Victor.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“No. Must have been in a rush. I didn’t even see her before she left.”

Armin and Annie return to their work, Annie typing on her computer and Armin grading his papers.

“I saw her before she left.”

Of course he did.

“How did she seem, Jean?”

“Well, a little bit earlier. She came to our apartment after she met Hitch.”

Right. When you ran out, after he handed you the tulips.

“Well, what did she say?”

“Nothing much. Just asked me who she was, that’s all.”

“And what did you say?”

“Just the usual. That you guys pretended to see each other during soccer season, because of Marlowe.”

“You didn’t tell her that I liked Hitch, right? That I’m with her or anything?”

“No. Just that you guys are close during season because you spend time together and all.”

There goes any hope of it being a misunderstanding. He doesn’t sleep that night either. Your scent on his pillows serves as a cruel reminder.

The third day, Hitch comes by. You’re still not back and he hates it. He’s had to throw the breakfast he made for you away twice, because he keeps forgetting you’re not here.

“Are we still on?”

“Yeah, Hitch. None of the other stuff, okay?”

“Sure. Marlowe should be at the games and parties, so just then.”

If he can’t be happy, someone should. He doesn’t mind it, holding Hitch’s hand here and there, slinging his arm around her shoulder to make Marlowe mad. To push the two of them together. He just wished it would do something to you, so you’d come running back to him too.

The second she leaves, all he can think about is your absence. It’s all he thinks about anyways. He hates that it’s true. That distance makes the heart fonder.

That’s all he wants to do. Just see you. He doesn’t care how you are - angry, pissed, detached from him. He just wants to see you, in your kitchen. He wants to hear you, singing in the shower, and watch you, sitting in the stands at his games.

He just wants you back. In whichever way you’ll have him.

He doesn’t sleep that third night either. Your peach smell is gone from his pillows already. He hates the passing of time.

You return, in the dead of night. He’s sure of it. He can hear you out there, your tiny footsteps clinking the dishes into the sink.

He nearly runs out the door, just to make sure you’re there. And you are, rinsing the dishes he left out. You’re back.

He fights the urge. To run up to you, press you against his chest, to pepper soft kisses all over your face.

“Y/N.”

“Hey Eren.”

God. Your voice. He didn’t realize that this was something he could miss - your voice, the stray hairs by your ears, the sound of your breathing. But here he is. Reveling at the sight of you. Doing the fucking dishes.

He walks up, pressing his hands against your frame and leaning his head against your shoulders. He can smell it - the peach smell. It makes his heart ache and he tries to will down the tears. He loves you, doesn’t he?

God. He can’t love you, can he?

“Am I imagining you or are you really here?”

“Really here, Eren.”

You’re back. He won’t let you leave again.

“I haven’t seen you in three days.”

“I went to see Porco and Pieck for the weekend.”

“It’s Tuesday. I was worried about you.”

“Sorry Eren.”

He can’t even do it. Be mad at you, tell you he was hurting the past few days. He can’t even remember it now, the feel of your skin against his hands was enough.

“It’s okay. You wake up Porco and Pieck with your morning concert while you were there?”

Your voice doesn’t fill the air, the sound of the plate in your hand crashing does. He immediately jerks up, your hands still dangerously close to the shards that were now swirling around in the water. Before he can pull your hands out, run his eyes over your fingers to make sure you weren’t hurt, you mutter three words that catch him off guard.

“Screw you, Eren.”

He can feel his breath stopping in his tracks. He’d never heard you like this, especially with him. Your voice was soft, sweet honey saccharine. Even when you were fast asleep, all tangled up in his sheets. So why were you angry?

“What?”

“I’m so sick of you making fun of me all the time. If something I do annoys you, you should just tell me, instead of making passive aggressive comments.”

Making fun of you? All the time? You couldn’t be serious. There’s no way you misunderstood that. He loves your singing - that you’re comfortable enough to scream in the shower when he’s a few feet away. That the music makes you happy enough to sing out loud, to dance in the kitchen, to share it with him. This couldn’t come out of nowhere. Because you have to know. You have to know that he loves it.

“Hey, what happened, peaches? You could never annoy me. I was just teasing you.”

He watches his words hit you, the air tightening in his chest at the sight of you pushing your hands against your eyes. No. No. He couldn’t have made you cry.

“You happened. I’m not something for you to laugh at Eren. I have feelings too, you know?”

He watches you move, slamming your door against the frame as you scurry into your room.

He doesn’t understand it. How you were tangled in his arms, breathing soft against his ears as he kissed you four days ago and now you can’t stand him. He hates it, that he knows how you feel, your touch. Maybe it would be easier if he hadn’t known it at all.

“We’re okay, right?”

The question comes three days later, one of the first times you and Eren had been alone in your apartment, since your argument. You kept inviting people over, so you could avoid this. That look, that question, talking about it.

You nod, wordlessly, sorting out the paperwork. It’s easier to focus on the papers than his eyes.

Eren had mentioned that the two of you needed to go into town tomorrow, to meet your landlord. Kenny Ackerman. He was apparently a touch eccentric, so he was preparing you for the meeting. You just had to officially sign onto the lease. But how do you tell Eren you’re not even sure you can live with him anymore?

“How have you been? Lately?”

You hate this. Be cool about it.

“Good, Eren. Just busy. How about you?”

“I’m good too. Soccer season and all that.”

You wish he was kind enough to be cruel about it. That he could either love you or hate you - nothing in between. You’d prefer that, him declaring he doesn’t care for you. It would be easier that way. But he stays the same - caring, thoughtful, warm.

“When’s your next game?”

“Today.”

“Got your good luck charm?”

“It broke actually.”

He opens the kitchen drawer, pulling out the key and the snapped chain. He hands the pieces to you, as you run your fingers along the chain.

“What are you going to do?”

“Not sure. Let’s hope I don’t break an arm or something.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve worn that necklace every game I’ve played since I was twelve. One time I forgot it and I broke my ankle.”

You laugh, twisting the key in your fingers, as you look at him.

“You can’t be serious, right? That’s just a coincidence.”

“It’s real.”

“Did it ever happen again, Eren?”

“No. Do you think I’d ever play a game without it? That’s like basically asking for it.”

You laugh, the two of you stuck in the middle of the kitchen. You hate this. That he can make you laugh, even after not talking for a week. That some part of him is always familiar to you, that you want to let him in.

“Do you still have the necklace I gave you?”

At the concert.

“Ah yeah.”

He digs his fingers underneath his shirt, pulling the silver chain out. You spin your finger, signaling for him to turn around. You quickly take the latch off and string the key through the chain before securing it back on. You tap his shoulder and he faces you again, watching you readjust and tuck the necklace back into his jersey.

“Thanks peaches. Saving my life here.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Sometimes you forget why you’re mad at him. Why you can’t do this. Hitch walks out of Eren’s room, right on cue, with green glitter spread across her face. Right. That’s why.

“Hey Rennie. Still can’t find it.”

“I’m not sure what I did with it, Hitch.”

“Have you seen it, Y/N?”

“Seen what?”

“His extra jersey. I wanted to wear it to the game today.”

Right. The jersey he gave you. To wear to all his games.

“I think it might have gotten mixed up with my laundry. I’ll go check my room.”

You retrieve the jersey from your room, your knuckles nearly white when you hand it over to Hitch to wear to the game. You make a mental note to fold and return the rest of Eren’s clothes you had and put them in his room. There’s no point in keeping them at this point. She gives you a smile, taking the jersey to go change into.

“You didn’t have to give it to her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I gave it to you for a reason.”

“I don’t mind. It makes sense anyways - girlfriends always wear jerseys to the games.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“I know.”

Girlfriend, fling, your roommate you kiss sometimes. It’s all the same thing. As much as you think you’ve given everything, that there’s nothing more that can hurt you, the universe proves you wrong.

You’re sure it’s all the same with her too - kissing scars, pretty dresses, soft kisses. It’s a bad omen, but you hope it hurts for her as much as it does for you, when it’ll end.

next part linked here

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delicateflowerss · 1 year

Text

Nightcall

People invite monsters into their houses more often than you think.

Warnings: 18+, NON-CON, DUB-CON, dark!tyler, aged up character(s), blood, mentions of murder/violence, manipulation, jealousy, choking, dacryphilia

Word Count: 3.7k

His fingers fumble with his phone in the dark. Blood smearing on the screen when trying to find your name to click on. Unshed tears glisten in his eyes and shaky breaths leave his lips as he listens to the ringing tone.

You look out your bedroom window one more time, watching the rain fall from the sky before closing the curtains for the night. You head towards the bathroom, walking past your phone that sits on the dresser.

You don’t hear your phone buzz in the other room, the screen lighting up with Tyler’s name. You step into the hot shower, oblivious to the boy trying to get ahold of you.

He curses out loud when he hears the beginning of your voicemail. Hanging up, he immediately clicks on your name again.

When he gets the same result, he throws his phone down on the passenger seat.

Tyler doesn’t know why it feels like it’s life or death whether he talks to you right now. But he can’t shake the feeling that you’re with him again.

Maybe it’s stupid. Maybe it’s that obsessive, little corner of his mind plaguing him with the idea that someone is right where he should be.

He can’t get it out of his head, no matter how hard he tries. That day on perpetual repeat as he drives down the dark road.

“This would be less painful if you talk, Tyler,” she reminded him for the second time that session.

She kept a pearly white grin on her face, voice still cheery. But he noticed the annoyance that she fought so hard against, starting to seep through.

He couldn’t keep his eyes on the blonde sitting in front of him, instead they roam around her neatly decorated apartment. He’d never paid attention to how many candles she keeps lit. That must be a fire hazard, he thought. This whole place could go up in flames with a slight push to one of them.

“In our last session, you told me about a friend you reconnected with recently. Y/N, was it?” Dr. Kinbott inquired, watching Tyler for a reaction.

He shifted a little in his seat at the mention of your name. But he tried his hardest to keep a straight face, not even a twitch of a muscle. He didn’t need Dr. Kinbott to know what makes him squirm.

“How did you two meet again?”

He let out a sigh before being forced to recount his early memories. He supposed he didn’t mind since it had to do with you.

“We met in kindergarten. She just, came up to me and asked if I wanted to play house.” He kept his voice as steady as possible. “I know I would’ve rather played with the toy cars. But for some reason, I said yes. I don’t really remember why.”

He stopped paying attention to how Dr. Kinbott tilted her head like what he was saying was the most interesting thing she’s ever heard. Instead, a smile traced his lips as he felt himself be transported back into the memory.

“We played together every day after that. Going to each other’s birthday parties and kid stuff like that.”

He still remembered how you wanted him to sit next to you when you blew out your candles on your birthday cake, or how you always gave him your last Animal Cracker at snack time, just because he was still hungry.

“Then what happened?”

Her question made him falter, lips parting in confusion.

“What happened for you two to reconnect now? Reconnecting usually means you drifted apart in the first place.”

He slightly nodded, eyes moving to the floor. He thought for a moment before he continued.

“Puberty, I guess. We turned 12 and things just changed. It wasn’t cool to be friends with a girl.”

Dr. Kinbott continued to nod, humming in understanding.

“So, why now?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. She came into the Weathervane one day… and she was surprised to see me working there. Then we got to talking and… now we see each other all the time.”

He stopped himself from saying anything more about you.

Truthfully, he could’ve gone on for hours about you. How every time you looked at him, it felt like you were staring right into his soul, and all you did was smile, not turning away in fear or disgust.

He could’ve talked about how he longs to see that smile all the time, that simple expression on you making a bad day turn better.

He knew your drink order like the back of his hand. He thought it was funny how you only ever want a latte made by him now. Your excuse was no one else makes the foam like he does.

His favorite time of the day was when the sun went down. The Weathervane was finally empty of customers, and the two of you could just sit in your own little corner of the world, talking for hours. Everything else was a distant thought during those times. All he could do was focus on the warmth of your voice, telling him all of your greatest dreams and desires.

You told him you want to leave Jericho one day, hoping there’s something better out there for you, and all he could think was how much he wants to go with you.

“That’s great, Tyler. Having a friend, you can talk to is a really special thing.” Dr. Kinbott’s voice snatched him from his thoughts. She glanced at the clock.

“Looks like we’re out of time.”

Tyler kept his eyes on the ground, head swirling with memories of you that were unearthed in his session with Dr. Kinbott. He only looked up when he crossed the street, giving a polite smile to the car that stopped for him.

He was on his way to work, not much of a break between therapy and having to serve coffee to a wide array of customers.

But before he could get to the door of the Weathervane, he spotted you through the window. It was a nice surprise before he realized you were sitting across from someone, laughing at what they were saying.

His jaw tensed, brows pulled together as he watched you talk to a guy that you and Tyler went to school with.

He always thought Ben was an asshole, thinking he was so much better than everyone else. So much better than Tyler at least.

He was stumped at why you would want to be talking to Ben in the same booth that was supposed to be yours and Tyler’s.

His first instinct was to pretend that it was nothing when Ben brushed his hand against yours, and you let him, smiling.

But he felt something sink in his chest, a familiar feeling. A type of feeling he’s gotten when he watches the world around him, realizing he has no place in it. This time, it’s a little different, the feeling has evolved.

Now he has no choice, it’s screaming, telling him to do something before he goes insane.

You still haven’t checked your phone when you’re dressed in your pajamas, skin still dewy from your shower.

The doorbell ringing throughout the house startles you. You think for a second of who it could be, somewhat hoping the person gets impatient and leaves.

When it rings again, you peek through your bedroom curtains. When you see who it is, you practically run downstairs, opening the front door as fast as you can.

“Tyler, what are you doing?”

He stands on your doorstep in the pouring rain, arms hugging his sides, looking like a stray puppy needing shelter.

You grab his arm, dragging him into your house and out of the harsh weather. His clothes are soaking wet, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, still trying to figure out why he came to your house in the first place.

He looks around, almost like he’s in a daze.

“Are your parents home?”

You stare at him with your brow furrowed until you slightly shake your head, realizing he asked you a question.

“No, they’re out of town for the weekend. I thought I told you that.”

He hears the worry in your voice, not trying hard to disguise it. He likes it, the fact you care enough about him to be concerned.

“So, you’re home by yourself?” There’s an edge to his voice, something that makes a chill go down your spine.

You nod slowly, your eyebrows slightly raised.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

He just keeps his eyes on the floor.

You sigh, “You probably shouldn’t go back out there, at least until it stops raining.” His eyes finally meet yours. “I can try to find some other clothes for you while I put those in the dryer.”

His mouth opens, surprised at your offer.

“But leave your shoes by the door. My parents would kill me if you got mud everywhere.”

He looks down at his dirty shoes, bending down and frantically untying them.

You start to go up the stairs, and Tyler hesitates for a second before quickly following you.

“I’ll also get you a towel to dry your hair,” you say with an amused smile on your lips, looking back to take in his wet curls.

He follows you into your room, and he can’t help but take in every detail of you that is carved into it. All he can think is how it’s so you, from the few pictures hanging on the walls to the color you chose for the duvet on your bed.

“You can undress in here, and hopefully something of my dad’s will fit you.”

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You give him one last reassuring smile before closing the door.

It’s not lost on him how odd it is to be taking his clothes off in your bedroom. Maybe in a different situation, he would enjoy it more.

Soon enough, those agonizing thoughts come back, making him wonder how many other guys have been in this situation. Except you’d be there, also taking your clothes off.

He wonders if Ben has been in that situation, with that stupid, arrogant smirk on his face.

A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts.

“Come in,” he calls out.

You open the door, finding Tyler standing in the middle of your room, only in his boxers.

A sight you thought you’d never see.

It’s hard for him to look you in the eyes, his hands trying to find something to do. But what makes him feel worse is your lack of embarrassment at seeing him like this.

You step closer to him, but before you can explain what you found, you drop what you’re holding on to the bed.

“Oh my God, Tyler.” That concern is back in your voice.

He follows your gaze, looking down, realizing that he’s bleeding. He usually gets wounded in some way when he transforms. He’s not entirely sure how it happens, probably while he’s on the hunt. He’s just glad that the rain washed away the blood that wasn’t his.

You rush to him, inspecting the scratches on his ribcage, right near his stomach.

“Does it hurt?”

The scratches don’t look too deep, but they’re still bright red.

“It’s not too bad.”

You look at him with disbelief. But you decide not to press on the matter anymore.

“Okay. Well, I’ll get the first aid kit and you just sit down.” You motion to the foot of your bed. “Oh and,” you say, almost forgetting. “Here’s a towel for your hair. I could only find you a shirt, but you probably shouldn’t put it on until I get you cleaned up.”

You pick up Tyler’s wet clothes off the floor before leaving.

He grabs the towel, ruffling his hair with it, trying to dry it. He enjoys how you take care of him, treating him like he’s a little boy that needs to be nursed back to health. How he’s the only person you seem to care about at all, putting all your attention on him.

You come back, sitting right next to him, sorting through the bandages in the little plastic box.

“How did this even happen? It looks like you were attacked by a wild animal.”

You begin to bandage him up the best you can, waiting for an answer.

“I was playing with Elvis, and he got a little too rough I guess.”

It’s not his best lie, but it will have to do for now.

You don’t say anything, and Tyler isn’t sure if your silence is to do with your disproval or if you’re too focused on his wound.

A few minutes pass, and you’re still working on covering the scratches up. It doesn’t go past you how intimate this is, the only sounds are yours and Tyler’s breathing and the soft tapping of the rain against the window. You drag your eyes up a little, taking in how toned he is, something he keeps well-hidden.

You’re so close to him that he can smell the soap on your skin, vanilla filling his nose. The feeling of your fingertips on his body makes him feel like he’s on fire. If all he had to do was hurt himself and show up on your doorstep in the pouring rain to get you to pay this kind of attention to him, he would’ve done it a long time ago.

“That should be good.” You lean back, admiring your handiwork.

His green gaze finds his now bandaged up wound, a smile lighting up his features.

“Thank you, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I don’t know either.”

Your smile matches his as you bring a hand to his hair, letting your fingers run through his soft curls. His eyes fall shut with the comforting, almost loving movement.

He opens them to see you staring at him, like you’re admiring him. Content is written on your face.

He can only guess his face looks more or less the same, probably more like a lovesick idiot.

He doesn’t really think about it as he leans in closer to you, his eyes glued to your lips. He doesn’t notice how your expression morphs into something of confusion and panic.

A small gasp leaves your lips as his own crash into your cheek instead. You feel him freeze, realization hitting him coldly.

He finally moves away from you, keeping his head down. But even as he wishes to disappear from your sight, he can’t stop you from seeing the blood rushing into his cheeks.

You instantly feel bad when you see the embarrassment that clouds him. The last thing you would want is to upset Tyler. But him almost kissing you was a shock. You never thought for a second Tyler had a crush on you.

You sigh, closing your eyes for a second, trying to figure out the words to make all of this better.

“Tyler, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. It’s just…” You trail off, not wanting to add salt to his wounds. You shift a little. “It’s just, I don’t see you like that.”

You try to judge his reaction, and by the way his jaw ticks, it’s not good.

“I’ve been really happy since we became friends again, and… I don’t want to lose that,” you soothe.

“Do you like him?” There’s a darkness to his voice, a bitterness you’ve never heard from him before.

You stare at him, not understanding.

“I saw you with him. At the Weathervane.” He finally turns to face you. “Are you fucking him or something?”

His face is practically in a snarl, and you’re ready to defend yourself against his unfair accusations.

But then you see the hurt in his eyes, the slightest glimmer of an unshed tear. You decide to take a deep breath, stopping yourself from saying something you’ll regret.

“I think you just need to calm down, Tyler.”

Unfortunately, your words have the opposite effect. Your lack of an answer makes his jaw tighten. His eyes seem to have this far away look in them.

He had hoped every thought that invaded his mind was wrong. But he realizes that the voice in the back of his head telling him he’s not good enough for you has only been right.

His gaze finally settles over you, an intensity taking over that wasn’t there before.

“Do you think he’s better than me?”

Your brow furrows. “What? No-.”

“Then why him?” He pauses before going into his next question. “What’s so bad about me that you won’t at least give me a chance?”

You look down at your hands in your lap, immediately feeling a pang of guilt. You don’t know why you can’t see Tyler in a romantic way. You’ve known him since you were kids. He always looks at you with those soft, kind eyes, and he listens to what you have to say. He’s also good looking… but for some reason, you just can’t picture yourself dating him, or fucking him.

But you could try.

He’s always had it tough, growing up without a mom. You could always sense a loneliness to him, something that made him… different from everyone else. All you know is you hate making him feel this way. You don’t want to be the reason for his next broken heart.

“Tyler-.”

He shuts you up with a kiss on your open mouth. Before you could explain how you two should go to a movie or something, his soft lips are pressed to yours, slowly licking into your mouth.

You bring a firm hand to his chest. Your fingers are cold compared to the warmth of his bare skin. You try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge.

His kisses feel feverish, like he can’t get enough of you, wanting to devour you whole. He pushes his body weight onto you, making you fall back on the bed.

The kisses don’t stop as he moves between your open legs. You’re finally able to move your mouth away from him.

“Wait, Tyler. I don’t know about this.” Your voice is full of cracks as he takes in the apprehension overcoming your face.

He had hoped you would pity him, making it easier for him to do what he wants with you. You’re his and he is yours. Ben doesn’t compare to him. You just don’t know it yet.

He tries to make the expression on his face gentler, softer, not wanting to scare you.

“I would never do anything to you that you wouldn’t want.” His thumb caresses circles on to your cheek. “You don’t have to worry or think too much. Just relax.” His deep voice sounds almost entrancing. “Don’t you trust me?”

You gaze up at him, considering his words. He takes your lack of response as one, his lips finding yours again.

You let his hands roam over your body, fingers digging into your skin. He finds one of your breasts through your thin pajama shirt, squeezing it and massaging your nipple. His other hand snakes down to your core, rubbing you through your underwear.

Even if he wanted to stop, he can’t. The thing inside him that craves to be satiated is screaming in hunger, and you’re absolutely delicious.

He replaces his hand with his mouth, sucking on your nipple through the fabric, wetting it with his tongue. He can feel your chest start to heave.

A whimper escapes your throat as he slips his fingers under the white cotton, brushing over your swollen bud. You feel his perfect teeth move to your neck, alternating between biting and licking, leaving kisses in his trail as an apology for hurting you.

Your hips buck involuntarily before he takes his hand away from you, wet with your arousal. You practically whine in protest before he reaches up to take your shirt off, your shorts and underwear being pushed down next.

The realization of where this is going hits you, along with the cold air. Watching him pull his boxers down, you could stop him now.

But do you really have a choice?

You feel his leaking tip brush against you, lining himself up before pushing himself inside you.

Ragged breaths leave you as you try to adjust to his size, the fullness being too much for you at first. Pain beginning to meld with the inklings of pleasure.

His pink lips part as he feels you wrapped around him, walls clenching around his throbbing cock. He starts to thrust into you, your hand grasping his bicep as he sinks in deeper.

You get used to his pace, moans falling from you as pleasure clouds your mind. His head falls to the crook of your neck, the caress of his breaths tickling your neck. The monotonous squeak of your mattress plays in the background. An odd sense of comfort envelops you as his bare chest grazes your own.

Then he lifts his head up, a hand grabbing your thigh, pushing your knee to your chest. He ignores your protests, rutting into you mercilessly. The sounds leaving him can only be described as carnal, hot breath fanning over you.

The new angle allows him to pound into you harder and faster, and all you can do is take it. Your whines get louder as he hits your sweet spot. Your eyelids flutter while your only focus is your impending orgasm.

You feel his large hand wrap around your neck, squeezing hard enough to scare you, but not to cut off your air supply.

He likes how your neck is so delicate, your rapid heartbeat right under his fingertips.

“Tyler,” you struggle out.

He’s relentless with how he thrusts into you. A sick part of him is satisfied when he sees a tear finally fall down your cheek, dropping onto the hand that’s still around your throat.

You hate to think of what exactly pushes you over the edge. All you see are stars as pleasure washes over you. You can feel Tyler’s lips brushing against your cheek, licking away your tears.

His pace has gotten careless and it’s not long before a warmth floods you, harsh breaths wracking him.

Tears still blurry your vision as he lies beside you. You can’t help but lean in closer to him, letting him kiss the top of your head, crying into his chest.

#tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #dark!tyler galpin #dark!tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x you #wednesday

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