#I was left alone with her a lot as a child

[its-avalon-08]

Hello, my favourite Lando Norris writer. Can I request something with Lando where Reader has a son from a previous toxic relationship and Lando thinks she's like hiding something from, like cheating but she confess everything and Lando becomes the dad that stepped up. 🫶

miracle family (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - neglected child, tears, comfort

Lando sat at his dining table, staring at his phone. It had been a few days since he last saw Y/N, and though they’d spoken, something felt… off. She’d been distant, always rushing through their calls, making excuses to cut their time short. He told himself he was imagining it, that she was just busy, but a nagging voice in the back of his mind wouldn't let it go.

He thought back to their last date. They had planned to spend the entire evening together, but halfway through dinner, Y/N had gotten a call. She stepped outside to take it, her expression unreadable, but when she returned, her mood had shifted. Her usual brightness had dulled, and she seemed distracted for the rest of the night.

"Sorry, Lando, just some work stuff," she had said with a quick smile when he asked about the call. He didn’t press further, not wanting to seem pushy, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Then there were the texts. Every time they were together, Y/N seemed to be checking her phone, typing quickly before locking the screen and setting it aside. She never let him see who she was messaging, and when he casually asked if everything was okay, she’d brush it off.

"Yeah, all good. Just a friend going through something," she had said once, her eyes darting away as if she couldn’t meet his gaze.

But the real moment that had started gnawing at him happened the previous weekend. Lando had invited Y/N to one of his races, excited to have her there with him. She’d always been supportive, her energy infectious, but this time, she’d been oddly quiet. When he asked if everything was alright, she just smiled tightly and said she was tired. But after the race, instead of joining him for drinks with the team, she had left abruptly.

"I’ve got to go, Lando. Something’s come up. I’ll explain later, okay?" Her voice had been apologetic, but her eyes… something about them seemed conflicted, like there was something she wasn’t telling him.

He didn’t know why, but in that moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was someone else. Was she hiding something from him? Maybe she was seeing someone behind his back, someone she wasn’t ready to tell him about. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask her directly.

Instead, Lando had chosen to observe, watching her carefully over the next few weeks. The phone calls, the quick glances at her screen, the random moments of detachment—it all added up. But every time he was about to say something, the words got stuck in his throat. What if he was wrong? What if she wasn’t cheating, and he was just overthinking everything?

Yet the doubts remained. He found himself scrolling through their old texts late at night, trying to pinpoint when the change had started. He remembered how things used to be—how open and carefree Y/N had been with him. But lately, it felt like there was a wall between them, one she wasn’t letting him break through.

And then, there was that one time she came over to his apartment, looking tired and worn out. She had barely spoken, her eyes heavy with something she wouldn’t share. He had asked her if she wanted to talk, but she had only shaken her head.

"I’m fine, Lando. Just a lot going on."

"Is it work?" he had asked, gently pushing, hoping to understand what was weighing her down.

"It’s… complicated," she had murmured, avoiding his gaze.

Lando hadn’t said anything more that night, but the silence between them had been louder than any words could have been. He had held her close, but even then, she had felt far away.

Now, as he sat alone in his apartment, his mind spinning with unanswered questions, Lando couldn’t help but wonder: was Y/N hiding something from him? Or was it something bigger—something she was afraid to tell him?

Either way, he knew he couldn’t keep pretending everything was normal. Not when it felt like he was losing her, piece by piece.

time skip

Lando strolled through the supermarket aisles, humming softly to himself as he checked items off his shopping list. It was a rare day off, and he decided to take care of some errands. He rounded the corner into the cereal aisle when a small, energetic blur collided with his legs.

"Oh, sorry!" Lando exclaimed, looking down to see a young boy, probably around five years old, grinning up at him.

"It's okay, mister!" the boy chirped. "I was just trying to find the cereal with the marshmallows. Do you know where it is?"

Lando chuckled, kneeling down to the boy's level. "I think it’s a couple of shelves down. What's your name, buddy?"

"I'm Ethan!" the boy said proudly. "What's yours?"

"Lando. Nice to meet you, Ethan," Lando replied, ruffling the boy's hair.

Ethan's eyes widened with excitement. "Like the race car driver?"

Lando laughed. "Exactly like the race car driver."

Ethan's eyes sparkled with wonder. "Wow! My mummy loves race cars! She watches them all the time."

Lando smiled, charmed by the boy's enthusiasm. "Your mum has good taste. Speaking of which, where is she? Shouldn't she be keeping an eye on you?"

Ethan pointed towards the end of the aisle. "She's over there! Mummy! Mummy!"

Lando turned his head in the direction Ethan was pointing, his heart skipping a beat as he saw Y/N standing at the end of the aisle, a look of shock and surprise on her face. She quickly made her way over, her eyes wide with a mixture of emotions.

"Lan?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Y/N, uh baby," Lando replied, equally stunned. "I didn't know… I mean, Ethan is your…?"

Y/N nodded, kneeling down to scoop Ethan into her arms. "Yeah, ummm this is my son, Ethan."

Ethan beamed, oblivious to the tension in the air. "Mummy, this is Lando! He's the race car driver!"

Y/N managed a weak smile. "I know, sweetheart. Why don't you go pick out the cereal you wanted?"

Ethan nodded eagerly and ran off, leaving Lando and Y/N standing there, an awkward silence hanging between them.

"Why didn't you tell me, Y/N?" Lando asked softly, his eyes searching hers.

Lando stood frozen, Y/N’s words echoing in his mind.

“I have a son.”

The bustling supermarket seemed to fade into the background, the soft hum of conversations and the clinking of shopping carts drowned out by the weight of her confession. Y/N stood before him, her hands trembling slightly as she held onto the shopping basket, her eyes wide and filled with fear, as though she was bracing herself for his reaction.

Lando blinked, trying to process the information. “You… you have a son?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with disbelief.

Y/N nodded, biting her lip, and that was when her composure began to crack. Her eyes welled up, her breath hitching in her chest as the emotions she had tried so hard to suppress finally surfaced. "Lando, I didn’t know how to tell you. I was so scared you’d leave if you knew. I’ve been hiding it, and I’m so sorry. I—"

Her words choked off as tears streamed down her face. She dropped the basket, her hands covering her face as she sobbed, right there in the middle of the cereal aisle.

“I didn’t want you to think I was hiding it because I don’t trust you, it’s just… Ethan is my whole life. His father was—he was awful, and I didn’t know how to protect us. I’m so sorry, Lando, I should’ve told you sooner—”

But before she could finish, Lando was there, dropping everything as he closed the space between them. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her into his chest as her body shook with sobs.

“Hey, hey,” Lando whispered, his voice soft and soothing. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Y/N.”

Y/N clung to him, burying her face in his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt. "I'm so sorry," she cried, her words muffled against him. "I didn’t want to lose you. I was so scared."

Lando tightened his embrace, his hand gently stroking the back of her head. "You’re not losing me. You could never lose me."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her tear-streaked face. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the tears that continued to fall. “I wish you’d told me earlier, but I get it. I get why you were scared. But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You and Ethan—you’re part of my life now. I want to be here for both of you.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide with disbelief and hope. "You really mean that?"

Lando nodded, his voice steady and full of conviction. "I do. I love you, and if Ethan’s a part of your life, then he’s a part of mine too."

Fresh tears filled her eyes, but this time they weren’t from fear or sadness. They were from relief, from the overwhelming realization that she wasn’t alone anymore. "Lando… I don’t even know what to say."

“You don’t have to say anything. Just… trust me, okay? We’ll figure this out together.” He pulled her back into his arms, holding her tightly as her breathing slowly steadied, her sobs turning into soft sniffles.

In that moment, surrounded by the quiet chaos of the supermarket, Lando knew that nothing else mattered. Not the people passing by, not the curious glances from other shoppers. All that mattered was Y/N and the promise he had made—to be there for her, to be there for Ethan, no matter what.

And as he held her, he realized that this was what love was about. Not just the good moments, but the hard ones too—the moments where you drop everything to be there for the person you love, no questions asked.

At that moment, Ethan came running back with a box of cereal, his face glowing with excitement. "I found it, Mummy! Look!"

Y/N and Lando both laughed, the tension dissipating as they turned their attention to the enthusiastic boy.

"Great choice, Ethan," Lando said, giving him a high-five. "How about we go check out and then grab some ice cream?"

Ethan's eyes lit up. "Yes, please!"

As they made their way to the checkout, Lando glanced at Y/N, his heart swelling with love and commitment. He knew that their journey together wouldn't always be easy, but he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. For Y/N, for Ethan, and for the family they were about to become.

--- extra scene p.s.a - abusive partner ----

As the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the park, Ethan ran ahead to the playground, his laughter filling the air. Lando and Y/N watched him for a moment, their hands intertwined as they sat on a nearby bench.

"He's really something," Lando said softly, a smile playing on his lips.

Y/N nodded, her eyes fixed on Ethan. "He is. He's my whole world."

Lando glanced at her, squeezing her hand gently. "Y/N, can we take a walk? There's something I want to talk to you about."

Y/N looked at him, a hint of worry in her eyes, but she nodded. "Sure, Lando."

They stood up and began to walk along the path that circled the playground, the sounds of children playing fading into the background.

"Y/N," Lando began hesitantly, "I want to understand more about Ethan's father. About what you went through. But only if you're ready to talk about it."

Y/N took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around Lando's. "It's… it's not easy to talk about. But you deserve to know."

She paused, collecting her thoughts as they walked. "Ethan's father, Mark, was… he was charming at first. But it didn't take long for his true colors to show. He was controlling, manipulative, and it only got worse over time."

Lando's grip on her hand tightened in silent support as she continued. "He would get angry over the smallest things, and his anger… it was terrifying. He hurt me, Lando. Physically, emotionally. I stayed because I thought I could change him, that things would get better. But they never did."

Y/N's voice broke, and she wiped away a tear that had escaped. "When I found out I was pregnant with Ethan, I knew I had to leave. I couldn't let him grow up in that environment. I was scared, but I knew it was the right thing to do."

Lando stopped walking, turning to face her. "Y/N, I can't even begin to imagine how hard that must have been for you. You're so strong."

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face now. "I don't feel strong, Lando. I felt broken and alone. But I had to protect Ethan. I had to give him a chance at a better life."

Lando pulled her into a tight embrace, his own eyes glistening with tears. "You did the right thing. And you're not alone anymore. You have me, and I'll be here for both of you. Always."

Y/N sobbed against his chest, the weight of her past finally lifting as she felt the warmth of his love and support. "Thank you, Lando. Thank you for being here, for understanding."

He kissed the top of her head, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you, Y/N. And I love Ethan. We'll make this work, I promise."

They stood there for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the world around them fading away. When they finally pulled back, Lando gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"Let's go back to Ethan," he said softly. "He's probably wondering where we went."

Y/N nodded, a small but genuine smile forming on her lips. "Yeah, let's go."

As they walked back to the playground, hand in hand, Y/N felt a sense of hope and peace that she hadn't felt in a long time. She knew that the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but with Lando by her side, she was ready to face whatever challenges came their way.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

baby steps. l Joel Miller

Summary: you were his very quiet companion on patrols

Warnings:  angst, a little bit of swearing, mentioning pregnancy, mentioning loss of a child, mentioning abortion, mentioning suicidal thoughts, generally - a lot of unpleasant things, Reader is 30s or sth, I guess

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a long time. There are some not so nice things (read the Warnings!) but I hope the whole story won't be so awful. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

and i would like to thank you for the few kind words i have received recently. it scared me but was very nice. thank you!

The first time he met you was at Tipsy Bison when Tommy told him you would be his new partner on patrols. Footsteps were barely audible, and then a chair on the other side of the table moved and you sat down. 

Your eyes stopped on Joel's face for a moment, you nodded in greeting. The name quietly fell from your lips, and then you focused on the map that Tommy had spread out on the table.

Joel wasn't sure if you understood what his brother was saying to you. You were silent, sometimes nodding your head, nothing more.

"Is she even good for this?" Joel finally muttered as you said goodbye and left.

"What do you mean?" Tommy folded the map and put it in his jacket pocket.

Joel raised his eyebrows "She seems a little... I don't know. Distant?"

A quiet laugh escaped Tommy's lips "Really? And who's talking?" he took a few sips of coffee "Joel, you wouldn't patrol together if I wasn't sure she was good. She may not be the life of the party, but she's great at what she does."

Joel had the impression that he had seen you a few times in Jackson, but you were one of those people who kept their distance from others. So he looked like that to others too?

It was only the first patrol with you that made him change his mind about you, but he wasn't sure yet if this change was for the better. 

You were definitely not one of those people who needed to talk. Small talk wasn't for you, but you listened very carefully. 

The area around Jackson was no stranger to you, just like handling a gun. So Joel got used to you, and over time he even managed to get some information out of you.

You had been in Jackson for almost five years, you lived alone in a small apartment. You were alone. "That's the best way." No family or close friends, except for Maria. You were patrolling and searching for supplies. He was also sure he saw you in the library, but he never asked about it.

After a few months, Joel could clearly tell that you were the right person for the job. He even managed to make you laugh a few times or talk a little longer. You never asked him about the past, and when he asked you about it, you answered "We're at an age where everyone has some background, right? But not everything is suitable for talking about it."

"Your girlfriend seems nice." Ellie stated one day, and seeing his confused face added "I talked to her today. She said that this crap didn't let her finish high school, so now she's catching up on school readings. If I were her, I wouldn't bother. School sucks."

The warm coffee warmed his tired body, but after a moment he spoke up "You talked to her? When? And... She's not my girlfriend."

Ellie shrugged "We talk a lot. And you don't? You spend a lot of time together, I thought that..."

"You were wrong." Joel mumbled "Did she say anything else?"

The girl looked at him carefully. "You really don't know her very well, do you?"

He wasn't sure if he knew you at all. Did he have the right to demand that from you? You did your job thoroughly, he could rely on you, and despite everything you were still standing somewhere in the shadows, hiding from everyone.

"Is everything okay with you?"

Your voice tore him out of his reverie for a moment. You were walking through a quiet area, the fading grass crunching under your feet, and the cold wind slowly became more and more severe.

"Yeah, everything's okay." he replied, glancing at you over his shoulder "I was lost in thought."

"I saw. Good thoughts?"

Joel cleared his throat and stopped, and a moment later you stood in front of him, looking at him uncertainly. 

You really liked him. Miller might seem like a grump, but his personality didn't bother you at all. Women in Jackson also said he was handsome. You had a lot of time to watch him outside the city, you had to admit they were right too. But that wasn't what mattered, was it? You felt safe with him and you trusted him, that was important.

"Doesn't Ellie tire you out?" he asked finally.

"What?" you burst out laughing "Come on. I like her. She asks a lot of questions, but she's a cool girl. I remember when I was her age..."

You stopped as if the thought slowed down your thinking the moment it appeared in your head. Joel saw your eyes wandering around the area with an unseeing gaze.

"Were you her age when this started?" he asked, but you shook your head slightly "Older?"

"Not much." Your voice was quiet but calm "I was a senior in high school. It seems so stupid now... I had a crush on this one guy, fuck, I don't know why I thought of him now."

"It was important back then." Joel mumbled, absorbing your every word. "And your family?"

"They died. A long time ago." The answer was quick, but emotionless. "Why do you ask?"

Joel shrugged. "I don't know. Just like that. Maybe I'd like to get to know you better."

You nodded, analyzing his words for a moment. "You're weird sometimes, Miller." You finally stated. "Conversations like this don't lead anywhere. They only reopen old wounds."

You adjusted your rifle strap and moved forward.

Fall had come for good, and you were slowly starting to withdraw even more. He could see it. Patrols were almost completely silent, he rarely saw you among people or at evening community meetings. 

Even Ellie convinced him that something was going on, because when he asked her she said that she hadn't talked to you in a while.

"It's that time of year." Maria said when he asked her about you too, he was helping her fix the heating in her house. "You should get used to it, Joel. But... I didn't know you were so interested in her."

"It's not like that." he mumbled, but he felt a strange warmth creep up the back of his neck. "She's my partner on patrol. I want to know that she's okay."

"I get it." Maria nodded and sat down on the couch. "Have you talked to her?"

"I've tried, but you know perfectly well that it's not easy. You're her friend." the woman smiled gently. "Is there something she's not telling me?"

"A lot of things, Joel. Just like you, she's not very open to confiding. And this time of year..." she looked out the window where the wind was playing with the fallen leaves. "You should talk to her yourself, if you care about her. But you can also forget about it, be like everyone else, pass her on the street and just let her be. It shouldn't be that hard for you, right?"

And that was something he couldn't get out of his head.

When he saw that guy instead of you the next morning, a strange shiver ran down his spine. "She's sick." Mark said, pushing leather gloves onto his hands. "I'll replace her."

Joel nodded and they set off on patrol. However, his thoughts kept returning to you, he analyzed your last meeting, the last words you exchanged. You were even more subdued. He had the impression that he was forcing the next words out of you, and you just wanted to leave, to disappear.

"She's weird, but pretty." Mark replied when they took a break for hot coffee and a sandwich. "A few guys hit on her, but nothing came of it. Actually, I was hoping that you and her, you know..." he winked at Joel. "But maybe she's that type of person."

"What type?" Joel asked, chewing a bite of his sandwich.

"In times like these, people need each other. They want to at least pretend that things are normal." Mark explained, reaching for the thermos of coffee "And others simply adapt to it. They don't want to have anyone close to them, because it's risky, you know. I guess she's like that. A lone wolf."

But Joel wasn't entirely sure, because he knew you from a slightly different side, or at least that's what he thought. When he showed up at your door that evening, only silence greeted him. And it was the same for the next few days.

"Yeah, she's still in Jackson." Maria was sure of her words "I visited her yesterday, but I don't think..."

That was enough for him. That strange fear was creeping into Joel's heart again. He didn't know why. He was afraid, and all his thoughts kept running to you. It was as if a strange force was pulling him towards you.

"Hey! It's me. Open up." he knocked on your door, but it didn't help "I know you're there. I want to talk. You can't keep hiding."

No answer.

"I can easily break down this door." he declared "I'll make a mess and you'll just be embarrassed. I can do this, you know that. So... On three?" he cleared his throat as if he was preparing to actually do it "One!" Nothing. "Two!" he thought he heard quiet footsteps on the other side. He was about to open his mouth when the door opened slightly and he saw your face.

"You'll hurt your shoulder. It'll be my fault and you'll be excluded from patrols for a long time." you said "That's pointless. Go away."

"I'm not going until you talk to me." Joel replied, his dark eyes full of stubbornness that you knew so well "You can't keep hiding."

"Maybe I'm sick?"

"You don't seem to be."

And then with one strong push he opened the door and before you could stop him he went inside. His gaze swept the apartment, he heard your protests but didn't care. 

Like a storm he passed through the small living room, peeked into the kitchen and when he entered the bedroom he found what he was looking for.

"Fuck! Get out of here!" you hissed, rushing after him, but then you noticed the bottle of whiskey he had taken from your nightstand.

"And these are bedtime snacks?" he growled, throwing a box full of medicines to the floor. "You robbed a fucking pharmacy?"

"None of your business!" you replied, he saw the fury in your eyes. "You're the last person who should be judging me."

"Or maybe I can, because I'm the only one who's ever shown up at your fucking door? What did you want to do, huh?" he put the bottle down with a bang and walked up to you, but you didn't take a single step back. "We were supposed to find you only when the stairwell started to stink? Did you think about Maria? About Ellie? That girl really likes you. Did you think about..."

About me.

Your gaze, although full of tears, was unwavering. You stood there, arms folded across your chest, your throat constricted so tightly that you couldn't swallow.

"Joel..." his name sounded like a prayer in your mouth. "I don't know what you were thinking, but this doesn't concern you. You shouldn't even be here. I tried to keep you out of this."

"Why?" his voice was a little calmer "Why are you like this? I can't figure it out. At first I thought we just didn't know each other well, but after so many months. I heard how freely you talked to Maria, Tommy said that you used to babysit their kid. I don't understand it!"

You closed your eyes as if his words brought you pain, as if they evoked all the emotions in you that you wanted to hide. Tears ran down your cheeks, and a quiet sob escaped your throat.

"I don't know how to deal with this, Joel..." you whispered after a moment, looking at him with eyes full of pain "It all hurts me so much. Every day. Patrols with you were an escape for me, you didn't ask stupid questions, I could feel safe there. But it's all always for a moment."

Joel approached you, his warm hand caressed your arm "You can tell me everything, you know that." you nodded "Come on, sit down."

He closed the bedroom door behind you as if he was leaving something unpleasant and bad there, and then sat down next to you on the couch. When you calmed down a bit, you looked at him like never before, almost with tenderness.

"When I came to Jackson, five years ago, I wasn't alone." you started slowly.

"Were you with someone? With some group?" Joel frowned, trying to remember that detail that must have escaped his attention.

You shook your head. "No, Joel. I wasn't alone, because I was pregnant."

Something twisted his guts. He didn't expect this.

"It was the middle of the seventh month, I guess. It's hard to get regular doctor's visits these days." The little joke was probably meant to lighten the mood, but even you didn't smile. "I've had a long journey. I was alone. Almost." you took a deep breath, and Joel felt his hands go cold and trembling in an instant. "It's funny, you know. Long time ago, women my age already had two kids. And I was completely unplanned pregnant and I hated every single day. I didn't want this baby, but it was there. It was growing. It was alive. I could feel it."

"What about the father?" Joel asked quietly.

A strange grimace crossed your face at the mere memory. "He wasn't father material, if that's what you mean. Some random guy. You know, as women we have another bargaining chip. Something that really tempts some men. Something we can use to survive."

He knew perfectly well what you meant. He had seen many women like that, but he didn't judge them. Everyone did what they had to to survive.

"He was nice, if that's any consolation. We stuck together for a while, and then we went our separate ways. After a while, I found out I was pregnant. But I didn't have anyone or anything at hand to help me solve this... problem." you rubbed your forehead with your hand as if you wanted to get rid of bad memories "Some guy told me about someone who could get rid of it manually, but I was afraid of infection. Then it was too late. Days and weeks passed, and I hated myself and this baby. The nausea was killing me. I was no longer good at smuggling. I also had no idea what I would do with a crying newborn... I got to Jackson, I thought maybe someone here would help me. Maria was so wonderful." a faint smile appeared on your lips, but you weren't even looking at Joel anymore. Your gaze was fixed on your clasped hands "I started bleeding a few days after I arrived. Then everything happened so quickly... The doctor at the clinic couldn't do anything. I had to give birth, but... There was so much blood... And silence. There was no baby crying."

Joel felt as if a heavy stone was resting in his stomach. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your face, but he couldn't say any words that could comfort you. And what the hell would they sound like. But you didn't wait for that, the words slowly flowed from your lips. 

"The doctor said that my body was too weak, that long fatigue, improper diet, that he was too weak... I had a son. He was so small when Maria put him in my arms... And he was so perfect. I was so afraid that his crying would bring trouble to us, that he decided to be quiet."

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault..." Joel finally choked out "Things like that..."

"Happens. I know that." You interrupted him calmly "But it was my fault, Joel. When I saw him... I would have given my life so he could cry, so I could know he was healthy and strong. How could I have ever thought otherwise? What kind of person am I?"

Your voice broke. You looked exhausted and tired of life. Joel understood your guilt perfectly, he knew what you felt. Sarah appeared in his head in an instant.

"I had a daughter." His voice broke the long silence between you. "I lost her right at the beginning."

"I'm sorry." Your voice was quiet, but full of something that gave him some relief.

"After everything I wanted..." he cleared his throat "I wanted to do the same thing you wanted. I even tried, but... I know how you feel, it's so devastating, and it will never get easier."

"I still have him in my mind, you know. He'd be five now. He'd ask a thousand questions, and I'd have to make sure he doesn't get into trouble. Sometimes I think about what it would be like, but then I hate myself even more... I didn't want him. I wanted to get rid of him. Maybe it's because of this..."

"Don't say that." Joel grabbed your hands and squeezed them tightly. "You might have thought so. You were alone, and this world had gone mad. You got into Jackson, you could be safe here, but... These things happen."

You watched him carefully. Never before had you and Joel spoken so intimately, but you didn't feel embarrassed by it. On the contrary, it was the first time someone had really meant it when they said "I understand you."

"I'm sure she was beautiful." you said quietly.

"She was. And very smart. Much smarter than me." Joel added. "She probably would have gone to college or something."

For a moment, silence reigned again. You had the impression that you were both lost in your thoughts about the losses that affected you. You weren't beating each other, you just allowed yourselves to feel it all again.

"Did you really want to kill yourself?" his question brought you back to reality for a moment.

You nodded. "Look at me, Joel. I have nothing, no one. I don't know if I could ever get close to someone again. And all these thoughts only make me feel worse. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to feel anything anymore."

He understood it perfectly. After Sarah died, he felt that this world wasn't for him. Every day was torture, and the longer it lasted, the more he closed himself in his shell. Years passed, and Joel barricaded himself so much that no one and nothing could get him out. 

And then Ellie appeared.

"You know..." he began uncertainly trying to find the right words. "I know what I'm going to say will seem pointless to you, but sometimes it's worth gritting your teeth and trying to live on. Not jumping into the deep end right away, but slowly, day by day. I know that your son..."

The name you gave him when you saw his face for the first time came out of your mouth. Joel repeated it gently.

"Your son would have a really fantastic mother." he said "I'm sorry you had to go through this. I really am."

Tears flowed down your cheeks and Joel struggled to put his arm around you so that you could snuggle up to him. You clung to him, and for the first time he felt the warmth of your body, your scent, your tender touch when you hugged him.

You sat like that for a long time. For the first time you talked about everything and nothing, he heard your quiet laughter a few times and noticed how much he liked it. It was all like honey to his heart. The feeling of loneliness he had disappeared when you were next to him.

He saw you the next day on patrol. It was the first sunny morning in a long time.

"Hi." Your quiet voice was the best thing he'd heard in a long time.

"Baby steps, right?" He nudged your shoulder lightly.

You smiled and followed him.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Fuck Fate, I Want To Live

Summary: She is tired of letting the mother decide for her. he wants to take the reins in his own hands.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2798

A/n: based on this request that was sent like a year ago 😭 i am SO sorry it took me so long to get to it omg i did not even realise 😭

anyways, enjoy!

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

The restaurant was packed, which was not a surprise considering it was dinner time, and adding onto the fact that the place Y/n worked at was right in the middle of the rainbow.

It was packed, just like it had been that fateful night, when Y/n’s eyes had met hazel ones, and her chest felt fuller than it had ever felt before.

She had been serving another patron, but the snapping of the bond had distracted her so much that she’d had to retire early that night, which she was glad for because she had bumped into the tall, red haired and charming emissary of the night court.

Y/n reared back, her body reeling from the impact against the hard body in front of her. "I am so sorry-"

"I should’ve been watching where I was going, I’m so sorry-"

Y/n paused, taking in a deep breath as she met the mismatched eyes of the male who stared back down at her, easily a head taller than her.

He smiled, shaking his head. "Forgive me, truly."

Y/n ducked her head, her cheeks warming as she tried to focus on anything other than the handsomeness of the male in front of her.

"Um…"

He stepped aside, his eyes wandering into the dimly lit restaurant behind Y/n, widening in shock. Y/n blinked, glancing to see what had him looking like that.

The table that her mate occupied.

"Your mate?"

The red haired male’s eyes swung to Y/n, who offered him a rueful smile.

"How did you know?"

She shrugged, turning away. "Just found mine."

She heard his sharp intake of breath as she stepped off the porch, the cool night air kissing her face in greeting. Gentle and welcoming after the stifling heat of the restaurant.

"He’s your mate?" He whispered, the words flowing out in barely a breath.

Y/n hummed, her eyes snagging on a little child crying in front of the brightly lit shop opposite, his mother trying to calm him down.

She turned away, smiling to herself as she began to wander down the path to her loft apartment, beginning to hum along to the tune of the music filling the air with a much needed warmth.

She thought the conversation with the male was over, but she was proved wrong when he fell in step with her. She looked at him in surprise, eyes wide. He stared back at her like she had lost her mind.

"How are you so calm?!"

Y/n shrugged, nonchalant.

She had plenty of experience with people leaving her, that’s how.

She did not even want to try with her mate.

After all, she did not think she had anything to offer that could entice him into leaving the pretty female he had been with, and hoping was only a harbinger of hurt.

Y/n had been rejected a lot before, so it would come as no surprise if her mate rejected her as well.

By her mother, when she left Y/n on her aunt’s doorstep when she was barely a month old. By her older brothers, who had been decades older and had the ability to take Y/n in, but chose to let her suffer in the care of their aunt. By her father, who had taken one look at a crying, lost, ten year old girl and turned away, letting her sit out in the harsh cold of the winter solstice until her aunt's dog had come to find her, sniffing and pressing his wet snout into her face.

By her aunt, who thought the way to raise children was by beating them until they lost all will to rebel.

But she didn't tell him all that. He didn’t need to know her sob story. She just shrugged, turning her head away to look at the reflective surface of the sidra.

They kept on walking, and it didn't seem like he had any plans to leave her alone anytime soon.

He walked her home that night, and once they reached her apartment, he offered her his name. She had smiled, shook his hand, then left him standing alone in the cold winter night.

Lucien Vanserra, son of autumn, emissary to the night court.

Her now best friend, Lucien.

As she now sat with him in the exact restaurant she had first met him at, her eyes wandered onto the table on the far side of the room.

She could not help but smile.

Azriel and Elain looked good together.

"Do you want your regular?"

Y/n blinked, turning to look at her friend in confusion.

His voice rumbled quietly in the air between them, barely audible over the soft but loud notes coming from the orchestra in the corner of the humid room.

"I know we are here to make sure the two of them have a fun outing, but that does not mean we have to starve."

Y/n gave him an unamused look while her stomach grumbled in answer, and she sighed, nodding. "The regular for me."

He straightened, flagging down a lower faerie with iridescent butterfly wings, who walked over with a smile.

"What would you like to order tonight, sir?"

Y/n tuned the two males out as Lucien placed the order, focusing unconsciously on the cool window pane next to her. Despite the warm atmosphere inside the tavern-like structure, the glass was cold to the touch, the weather outside overpowering the temperature inside.

Lost in the coldness against her fingertips as Y/n dragged them over the smooth surface, she didn’t realise that the two were alone again until he called her.

"Y/n?"

She blinked, turning back to him. "Hmm?"

He smiled, leaning forward, folding his arms on the table. "What’s going on in that head of yours?"

She flashed him a sweet smile, leaning forward, as if sharing a secret. "Murder."

He raised his scarred eyebrow. "Oh?"

She nodded solemnly. He didn’t speak again, letting the space between them fill with the quiet chatter from the surrounding tables. He did not speak a word, made no sound, as if afraid any noise he made would ruin the atmosphere.

It was unlike Lucien. He was not a male who would stay quiet, especially around his friends. So when he did not gift her with a snarky remark, she lifted her head to meet his eyes, confused and curious.

He just stared back at her, his lips almost frowning. Her brows tugged inward, her smile fading. "What?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "It’s just…" he brought up his palm, resting his head on it. "I don’t understand how you do it."

Blink. "Do what?"

"Be unbothered. How do you live with the knowledge that not only are our mates in love, we are helping them get together?"

The fluid that ran through her veins cooled as she leaned back, swallowing. "I don’t understand either, Lucien. Maybe I know he would never choose me. He would never love me. I-"

"He would."

She paused. "What?"

He leaned forward again. "He would. If he met you, he would love you."

She shook her head. "You don’t get it Lucien. He deserves so much better than me. And please don’t look at me like that, we’ve already talked about this, and in the end we just end up fighting. I’d rather not go through it all again."

"But if he just knew-"

"Exactly my point. He would not love me for me. He would love me because of the bond, and I… I don’t want that. And he’s happy. That’s all that matters to me."

"And what about you-" Lucien let out a breath, turning away. "Nevermind."

Already tired, Y/n let herself focus on the grains in the wood table, tracing the lines with her nails.

Trying not to feel like she had somehow let Lucien down.

Again.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

Not again.

She was again ten years old, staring up at her father with tears brimming in her eyes, shivering in the winter court snow.

She was again eleven years old, having run from her aunt’s house, having left her shoes at the threshold as she sprinted towards what felt like her last hope. Her brothers. They lived next to each other with their wives and children. They would surely take her in when they saw the bruises on her face, right?

Wrong.

They had all turned her away, either crying until her tears turned to icicles or letting her sit on the cooling cobblestones at sunset.

She wished she had refused Lucien’s offer of getting cake.

After Elain and Azriel had left the restaurant, smiling and blushing, Lucien had turned to Y/n, asking if she wanted to get dessert as a pat on the back for their hard work in helping their mates get closer.

Y/n, despite wanting nothing more than to go home and sob to sleep after seeing that flash of disappointment in Lucien’s eyes, had agreed, even if it was just for his sake.

And now as she waited for him to come back with their treats, seated in a cozy alcove with plush pillows supporting her back, she wished she had stopped herself.

Wished she had gone home, because then she wouldn’t have had to look at Daniel and Jake. Her brothers, as they chugged beer with two other males directly opposite her.

And did not even realise.

"Mother, this smells divine."

Y/n blinked, pulled out of her reverie by the warm smell of the muffins hitting her like a slap in the face.

She offered Lucien a smile, hoping he did not pay too close of attention to how weak it probably looked.

He did.

A furrow appearing between his brows, he squeezed in next to her, concern dripping from his every word as he mumbled, "Is everything alright?"

Y/n glanced at the table they occupied, then hurriedly turned her gaze to the cake Lucien had set in front of her when she realised her oldest brother was staring at her. Probably wondering if he’d seen her somewhere, if the confusion on his face was anything to go by.

She grabbed the muffin, taking a huge bite of the warm, spongy sweet inside her mouth before turning to Lucien to give him a nod, smiling awkwardly.

He watched her silently, before nodding. "Something is wrong."

He looked towards the table ehr brothers occupied, then at her and back again.

It only took him a few moments to understand.

"Let’s go home."

Y/n’s eyes widened, and she forced herself to swallow the half eaten chunk in her mouth, coughing too loudly before she was able to speak. "But the cakes-"

He stood, ignoring her protests as he grabbed his muffin in one of his hands, pulling Y/n up with the other, and then dragging her towards the door.

He did not see Daniel standing up, nor did he see the way recognition lit up Jake’s face.

Daniel didn’t either as he was too busy walking closer to Y/n.

"Forgive me, but have we met before-"

Lucien stopped to glare at Daniel, who recoiled at the sheer hatred in Lucien’s eyes.

"My bad man, I-"

"Y/n?"

She froze, refusing to look at Jake. "Let’s go, Lucien."

He nodded, then pulled open the door, the chill air from outside a comfort compared to the suddenly stuffy interior of the shop.

Daniel did not speak, neither did Jake. But as Lucien pulled Y/n closer to winnow her away, knowing walking would lead her brothers to follow, Y/n caught a brief glance of the two.

The distraught sadness on their faces almost made Y/n want to forgive them

Almost.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Lucien shoved a mug of warm tea in Y/n’s hands, startling her. She peered curiously at the beverage, then up at her friend.

"What?"

He sighed, then settled in next to her on the couch, turning his head away from the fireplace to look at her.

"Your brothers?"

She nodded. She had told him of her childhood. Even if she hadn’t wanted to live through the misery of repeating those events, she had told him that night in a drunken haze.

She did not regret it, but the way he now stared at her made her uneasy.

He said nothing, though, and only turned away from her to sip his cup of tea. Time dragged on, each moment merging together. All while Lucien quietly stole glances at her.

"You know," he hummed in answer, sparing her a glance. "Sometimes I want to run away."

She watched as he blinked, staring at her blankly. "Where?"

She shrugged delicately, pushing to her feet. "Somewhere far away. I don’t know, but I do know I want you to be with me when I leave."

There.  She had said it. The thing that had been going around her mind for the past month, the thoughts that wouldn’t let her sleep at night.

Everytime she closed her eyes, she would see his smile. How his eyes twinkled, the skin around them crinkling every time he saw something funny.

Y/n was not in love. Not yet. But she was falling in love, and she knew she was doomed to love him, if not today, then tomorrow.

It was hard to not love him.

She had suppressed any and all budding feelings she had for him, trying to tell herself she did not notice the little tics about him. Told herself she did not notice the small line between his brows when he was busy cooking, the little giggles he would let out when drunk out of his mind.

She had forced herself to ignore it all, because she did not want to be in love with him.

Not because of him, of course. Only because she did not think he would love her back, but she did know that if there was anyone who would love her back, someone who she wanted to spend the rest of her life living with, it was Lucien.

She forced herself to stop thinking about it all, because she knew that if she didn’t, she would again end up with a broken heart.

Just an hour ago, when Y/n had come face to face with her brothers again, she had realised what she had been to blind to acknowledge before.

No matter what she did to protect herself, there would always be a way for her to get hurt. And living while trying to suppress her wishes was no way to live.

So what if he rejected her? They could still be friends. It would only end up helping her, because if he told her he did not want to spend his life with her, she could try to move on.

She was tired of letting everyone around her, even the mother, decide her fate. And she knew he wanted to take the reins of life back in his own hands.

She still remembered what Lucien had mumbled when he was wasted. It was another night after trying to get Elain to go out with Azriel, and at the end of the night, when Y/n had asked him what he was thinking about, he had leaned back, setting his glass aside, and sighed.

Fuck fate. I want to live.

She remembered how much those words had resonated with her then, and how much they resonated with her now.

"Hmm. Let’s go then."

Y/n paused at the bottom step of the stairs, turning halfway to look over her shoulder to Lucien.

He was standing now too, intently gazing at her with a tilt to his lips. "We wanted them to be together, now they are. I don’t see any reason to stay anymore. Besides, I think some time away from everything would help. We could even go to Vallahan. Or anywhere, really."

She grinned, then dipped her head in a nod.

"We’ll discuss the plan tomorrow."

He walked closer to her, picking up her cup from where it had been discarded, and smiled down at her.

She could not move as she watched him lean in, her eyes fluttering shut as he placed a kiss on her forehead, then her cheek. So close his breath lifted the strands of her hair that hung around her face.

His last kiss was placed at the corner of her lips, so slow and deliberate it could not have been anything but flirtatious.

Her eyes were wide when he pulled away, and he simply smirked, dropping into a dramatic bow as he mumbled the words that set fire to Y/n’s blood.

"Pardon my depravity, my lady. See you tomorrow."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[fandomworld9728]

U got time for some Radioapple Angst? Do ya think you could whip up an angst scenario about where Alastor confesses Lucifer that he likes him but Luci (scared of being left alone again after his divorce with Lilith and everything fell apart) gently rejects him, in fear of being in love again while also wanted what’s best for Al 🥲 and maybe cue to Lucifer leaving the hotel and heads back to the palace to be alone (while also notifying Charlie that he’ll be gone for awhile) 😭

(Radioapple angst coming right up! I actually had a similar idea where it's Lucifer who confessed and got rejected. So, he left the hotel so that way he didn't make Alastor uncomfortable)

Lucifer:

What? Did he hear that right? Alastor, the fearsome and powerful radio demon just confessed to him?

He couldn't believe it, but here Alastor was. Standing in front of him, nervous smile and a bouquet of dead flowers.

This... this couldn't be happening. Right? What in the Seven Rings had he even done to make Alastor fall for him? Last he knew the Sinner had hated him but was slowly warming up to him. For Charlie's sake.

Lucifer would be lying if the declaration hadn't affected him. Because this Sinner, this Overlord, this human soul, had seen him. The real him and not only stayed but also loved him. The last time that had happened was with Lilith. However, she had left him all alone. Had taken their daughter with her because she had grown tired, bored, and annoyed with him. Didn't see him fit to be a good parent for Charlie.

Shaking those thoughts from his head, he tried to focus on the man in front of him. Alastor wanted Lucifer the broken Fallen Angel who was trying to do right by his daughter and the souls in his care. Not the all-powerful King of Hell. So, why were these horrible thoughts swirling around his head?

Would Alastor leave when he got bored like Lilith did? What if they did get together and ended up having a child of their own? Would he take them away like she had? The more Lucifer listened to the voices in his head, the more his panic rose. Why wouldn't they shut up and let him be happy for once?

There were so many factors. So many fears he had. As much as he desperately wanted to smile and say yes, take a chance on these budding feelings he had for the Overlord, Lucifer knew what the smart choice was. Leading with his head instead of his heart this time, he took a deep breath to steady himself.

"Alastor. This is sweet and romantic. You have no idea how happy this makes me. But... I can't accept your confession."

"...What...?"

Oh Satan. Not the break in his vocal filter. This was so painful. He knew he was about to hurt Alastor. About to ruin whatever had developed between them. Would Alastor hate him after this?

"What the fuck do you mean you can't accept my confession?"

"I know that you put a lot into this and that this was probably difficult for you... I'm sorry."

~

Here he was back at square one. All alone in his palace once again. He had to get out the hotel, away from Alastor, as quick as he could. If he hadn't, he would have broken down in front of the Sinner and told him everything.

Forever being broken and pathetic. A coward. Having Alastor hate him was much then him realizing what everyone does eventually when they get close to him. He couldn't go through that again.

Besides, it was too dangerous for anyone to be in a relationship with him. Heaven used his ex-wife and daughter against him once, he knows they'd pull that same shit with anyone Lucifer cared about and loved. Charlie was old enough and powerful enough to protect herself well enough if it came down to it and who knows where Lilith ran off too, so she was fine.

Alastor, while being one of the most powerful human souls Lucifer's seen in a long while, wouldn't stand a chance against the higher-ranking angels and the Elders. At least this way he was safe. Not just from Heaven. Safe from Lucifer as well. Sometimes he was a hard time controlling the darker parts of his powers. Especially when he was emotional.

He could feel it creeping up on him even now-

"No! Don't think about it. Focus on something else. Like... Like ways to help Charlie that don't involve being at the hotel or around Alastor. And don't think about the crushed look in her eyes when you told her that you would be moving back into the palace for the time being..."

Once he had explained why, she told him that she understood. But he hated to make her hurt in any sort of way. He had reassured her he would remember to keep in touch this time and that she could contact him for anything. He'd be back at the hotel once things cooled down between him and Alastor.

But what if things never cool down? Did he ruin his one chance to make things right with his daughter because he was afraid to love again? What was wrong with him?!

Alastor:

He had done it. Alastor had taken Rosie's advice on what to do with these... feelings....

He had spent a good part of the day getting things ready. Their usual meeting place, the hotel's roof, had been decorated with candles and something Angel Dust had referred to as fairy lights.

Music was playing from somewhere. Odd. Alastor didn't remember bringing anything up there to play music. He could solve that mystery later. His grip on the bouquet of Hell's native flowers tightened as his anxiety grew.

The poor things had died as soon as he had touched them. Oh well. If anyone could appreciate the beauty in one's death, it would be his king.

His king.

Ha. Alastor never thought he would be calling the man he once detested by such a title. However, Lucifer had proven himself worthy of such a title. Now, if the man would stop staring at him and give him an answer!

While he did enjoy leaving Lucifer flustered and speechless, he was becoming antsy. Vulnerability was not easy for him and made him uncomfortable. The Fallen Angel knew this, yet he was still standing there gawking at him.

He was about to snap when finally, finally, Lucifer spoke up. But now, Alastor wished that he had just stayed silent. 

"Alastor. This is sweet and romantic. You have no idea how happy this makes me. But.... I can't accept your confession."

What? If this makes him happy then why did he...? Was Rosie wrong about Lucifer feeling the same as Alastor? No... Rosie was never wrong about these things. So, why?

"...What...? What the fuck do you mean you can't accept my confession?"

"I know that you put a lot into this and that this was probably difficult for you... I'm sorry."

Before he could stop him, Lucifer had disappeared in a swirl of red and glitter. Leaving Alastor all alone in deafening silence. What had just happened? Did he just get rejected? Had that pitiful man, that coward, just rejected him and ran away without explaining why? 

What was this feeling? It.... hurt. Felt like whatever had been remaining of his heart was shattering. Digging his claws into the spot, Alastor felt his knees hit the roof tiles of the roof. However, he barely registered the feeling. He felt so numb.

'I'm sorry.'

Sorry? He was sorry?! Alastor would make sure he knew what that meant the next time he saw that poor excuse for a king! He'd rip the devil limb from limb and broadcast his screams throughout the Pride Ring. He'd do it until he was satisfied, knowing that Lucifer can't die. That he'd just regenerate quicker than any Sinner could ever dream of. Even if angelic steel was involved.

~

Alastor had locked himself away for the rest of the night once he found out that Lucifer would not be staying at the hotel for some time. He had planned to wreak havoc on that fool's room to teach him a lesson, but when he got in there, all he did was lay that stupidly oversized yet extremely comfortable bed like he had done so many times before. When he would stay up late to talk with Lucifer when he couldn't sleep.

Alastor had locked himself away for the rest of the night once he found out that Lucifer would not be staying at the hotel for some time. He had planned to wreak havoc on that fool's room to teach him a lesson, but when he got in there, all he did was lay that stupidly oversized yet extremely comfortable bed like he had done so many times before. When he would stay up late to talk with Lucifer when he couldn't sleep.

If Lucifer thought that he could just leave, he had another thing coming. Alastor wasn't going to let him get away that easy. He'd drag that idiot king back to the hotel himself he need be, but he wasn't going to let the man that lit his heart on fire get away. Ever.

No matter what. Lucifer better enjoy what little solitude he was getting right now. It would be the last of it he'd be getting. Alastor couldn't let him out of his sight now. Not after he just ran away like that.

"Prepare yourself, Lucifer Morningstar. You will regret awakening these feelings and desires within me."

(Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you'd like a part 2!)

[halfthebrain]

I don’t get this hate for Mike while he was an investment banker and fighting Harvey lmao. It was frankly really good TV.

TLDR: The stakes were much higher for Mike and he utilised every trick Harvey has taught him. He’s not the only one to blame just because some viewers can’t understand his motives. Harvey knew though and he forgave Mike, took him back, and even regretted fighting Mike in the first place.

First: obviously Mike would be more invested (pun intended) in winning than Harvey is. It was his first big case and his livelihood was on the line. In case anyone forgot, he never went to uni, he doesn’t have any degree. So this was his chance to get out of committing a felony every day. Sure, he still lied to Sidwell about his credentials but that’s still a lesser crime than pretending to be a lawyer. He left so he wouldn’t put the people he loved at risk.

For Harvey it was just another run of the mill client, a spoiled, entitled rich man child. Was there a lot of money on the table? Obviously. But those are the waters he swims in daily. Billion dollar deals as he said himself. Case in point: he also just drops Logan afterwards. Money be damned.

And Harvey knows this himself. He loves winning, yes, but he loves Mike more.

I actually blame Harvey for being a stubborn asshole and not going with Mike’s plan from the get go, not trusting Mike’s idea and plan, even tho he has consistently profited from them. But, again, this is TV drama so obviously they needed a reason to start a fight.

Second: have we not been watching the same show? It has always been personal to Mike. That’s his whole schtick. He cares. About absolutely, probably everything. He cares about why Walter Gillis started the company (because of his son). He cares about keeping that reason alive. He cares about keeping the workers employed. He empathises deeply, he tries to fight for what he thinks is the right thing. Does that make him a stuck up idealist at times? Yes, but that’s unavoidable. It was never just about winning for Mike, for Harvey it was. If you’re going to hate him for that then at least be a hater from the start.

He was still trying to keep Gillis Industries alive even though Harvey has smeared his name (personal attack) and Walter Gillis has shunned him because of that.

Third: it was all “fair game” despite whatever drama Donna procured in her head about the tapes to insert herself in Mike and Harvey’s fight. She can huff anf puff all she wants but the only person who has a reason to be pissed at Mike would be Harvey. And guess what? He forgave Mike anyway because he realises that Mike did a great job going for the jugular just as Harvey has taught him. He even defended Mike in front of Sidwell, asking him to take Mike back. They didn’t even go toe to toe. Harvey was backed by his entire firm (he’s a name partner), he even let Louis help (he fucked it up), Donna as usual, and lastly, Rachel who was “handling” Logan. Meanwhile Mike was fighting alone. Jonathan Sidwell only pressured him to win, Walter Gillis gave up on him and Amy could only help so much.

Just because Mike is on the other side now using the same methods Harvey taught him doesn’t mean that he’s the “bad guy”. Like I have said many times; they’re both the worst and deserve each other.

Bonus: while all of that was going on Rachel also thought it would be a wonderful idea to keep going back to Logan’s place and then to almost fuck him :).

Are you really, honestly hating on Mike right now?

[finneyfinland]

I Think We're Alone Now chapter 2

SUMMARY: Billionaire Reginald Hargreeves adopts 8 children all born on the same day of the same year. 7 of which were soon introduced as the umbrella academy. To you, the umbrella academy was nothing but a man using his power to traumatizes children. You'd know, as you were number 8. The Vampire

WARNINGS: mentions of child torture (experiments). Starvation, body horror (vampire), cannibalism, child abuse, blood, death, murder, childhood trauma (noncon tattooing), nightmares

A/N: Please listen to the warnings, there's gonna be a LOT of blood talk in this one. I'll be calling Victor Vanya but I will also use they/them as to lessen the blow. When the third season comes around we'll switch over dw

As the group follows Five to the kitchen, you try to get a head start on adjusting to Five's usual body, but slightly altered. His body usually was full of carbs and sugar with almost electricity energy shuttering throughout, to help fuel his abilities. This Five was extremely lacking the balance needed to sustain his healthy bodily growth pattern. You walk in tandem beside him before speaking quietly, "Your muscle mass will deplete rapidly if you don't feed yourself soon". He glances up at you in surprise before glaring "where does it look like I'm going?" His response puts a smile on your face as you hum, falling back a few paces to rejoin the rest of the group following behind. It's nice to see that some things don't change.

You stand between Vanya and Allison as you all watch Five run around the kitchen. "What's the date? The exact date." Vanya responds while Five grabs the package of bread, laying two slices upon the cutting board you watched him bring out. "Perfect" Is all Five says. He must have been counting on a certain date. Before you can try to unpack that Luther demands an explanation, trying to intimidate him into answering. Which goes completely ignored by Five. It's hard to focus on the very important interrogation attempt when everyone's heart rates are fluctuating rapidly. You try to listen over the many sounds only you can hear. Five matches Luther's energy before teleporting behind him trying to reach for the cupboards. You find it amusing that he has to use the step stool to reach.

"Where'd you go?" Diego asks looking to the ground. "The future. It's shit, by the way." Five responds as he grabs the sugar and teleports back to the cutting board. "Called it" Klaus exclaims as he raises his hand. "I should've listened to the old man." The way Five pauses his explanation to complement Klaus, and Klaus's immediate flamboyant thanks brings a smile to your face.

As Vanya asks a question you focus on what Five could be making. So far the ingredients are suspiciously close to the 'meals' that you all used to make as kids. The same ones you and Vanya left out for him. Looks like he still loves them.

While you were distracted Five must of said something too snarky for his own good cause Diego shoots out of his seat. You're glad Luther was able to stop him, he just got back and they're already fighting? you thought to yourself. Meanwhile Luther asks Five how much time he spent in the future. "Forty-five years, give or take" as Five's response hit the air your siblings around you sit back in disbelief. For the family it was 20 years at max, to hear that it's been 45 for him shocks you. As the heartbeats of your sibling continue to fluctuate as they struggle to digest the information in front of them Five mentions a 'Dolores' confusing the group even further.

Five grabs the newspaper with father's death on the front page. "Guess I missed the funeral." Luther and Diego seem to still be arguing about the true cause of father's sudden death. The rest of your group ignore the bubbling anger beside them in favor for the mystery that is Five. "Nice to see nothings changed." Five walks off. As he passes you Allison tries to questions him, but Five brushes her off in favor of going upstairs with his sandwich.

As he leaves the rest of your siblings and you are now even more confused. Getting what felt like more questions instead of the answers you all need. The group disperses now all splitting up to take a breather, attempt to take everything in.

With Vanya and Five together in the parlor you change into bulkier clothing to withstand the chill that so commonly is paired with the rain. It's finally time for you and your siblings to hold a mock mourning ceremony back behind the house. You pull on your long black coat to fight the cold. Before heading out you make sure to grab your umbrella that you take everywhere. It's black, with a mesh veil flowing down along all sides for extra coverage. Usually it's for the sun, but it should sustain in actual rain.

With Luther carrying the ashes everyone follows behind. You walk beside Vanya and mom, stopping near Ben's statue. "Did something happen?" Mom asks, her wiring must really be acting up. The question concerns your siblings as they answer her question with confusion. Diego tries to reassure the group but you can tell he doesn't believe his words. Pogo walks out and joins the circle to prompt Luther into starting. As he pours out father's urn the ashes drop onto the ground without any grandeur, leaving the mood awkward instead of remorseful. "Probably would have been better with some wind." Luther says, only digging himself a deeper grave.

As Pogo tries to save the occasion with a speech you couldn't help but be angered by his words. Dad might of been a smart billionaire who gave you eight a home, but that doesn't even begin to make up for his abuse. The ugly side of your thoughts peaking through at such a time as this fills you with shame. You don't think you could meet anyone's eyes. Pogo's words act as pure diesel to the flames within Diego, mirroring yours. As they explode, it doesn't seem to make anyone feel better. When Diego brings forth his number, you feel emotion start to rise from your chest.

As Number Eight you understand Diego's argument personally, even hearing the number being brought up in conversation is enough to send you back to your childhood, nothing but bad memories. It's a weakness you've tried to work through with the multiple therapists you've had over the years.

Diego's last challenge to our father sparks another ugly argument between him and Luther. Sometimes words cut deeper than blades ever could, you find it ironic that Diego of all people toe the line so closely. Arguments like this have always happened in your family, no one was similar enough to truly be close, but everyone was too close feel different, at least in the good way. The differences between you all couldn't be more stark, but the experiences you share could be enough to tie you together. If they could get over themselves anyway.

Luther swings at Diego and all hope for a nice reunion is lost in a second. You grab mom and pull the two of you away from the fighting. Heart rates increase in speed and volume as Vanya tries to get them to stop, being immediately blocked out by Klaus spurring them on. Pogo leaves the group as the brawl gets too close to Ben's statue. "We don't have time for this." Just as Five walks away to return to the house Luther's punch collapses Ben's statue. As the pieces hit the ground it feels like a part of you is shattering along side it. The world stops for a second, before your forced to shift your eyes back, numb and alone.

Ben's been gone for a while, but you haven't quite let he go yet. Both of you were close when he was alive. Seeing the only grace he was given disrespected digs at an old wound.

The moment doesn't last as Diego whips a knife through the air, it clips Luther's arm. Halting the fight as Luther walks off clutching his arm. Vanya moves to confront Diego and a chill rushes up your spine. Not able to dare risk confrontation, another fight would only make you feel worse. You walk back into the house, head low. Wanting the loudness of everyone's heart beats out of your ears, missing your apartment now more than ever.

You collect your bag and make your way to the front doors. It seems the familiar smells and sounds prove to be too much for you. As you open the front doors and step out onto the street the once harsh chill air feels freeing, a dark weight lifted enough to breath unburdened. As you stand on the side walk your brain calls back another old memory of when you left for good all those years ago. I was dumb to think anything would change you think to yourself as the taxi begins your ride back to your quiet apartment.

Although your body has left, your mind is still swimming with anxieties. That's when the itching starts. It burns into your forearm as your rip your sleeve back. When you look down your met with the tattoo you were branded with as a child.

You were the last number, placed almost at the end of the line. You're forced to watch your sibling cling to each other as tears stream down their young faces. As you sit in between Five and Ben their heart beats clue you into their fear. Ben is almost in tears just at the sight of our siblings, while Five tries to put up a brave front. Meanwhile Klaus has been dissociating since Luther sat in the chair first. When you look up you can see Vanya as they stand on the landing of the staircase looking down as we cling to one another. Sometimes you wonder if their happy that they're missing out. But later when you're sleeping over in their room you spot a black marker drawing of an umbrella matching yours on their arm.

Days at home were hard, but at night there was a sliver of peace waiting for you. A secret you've kept to yourself, the dark nights were a comfort only you could have. When the last of your siblings succumbed to sleep they're heart beats would slow, sometimes if you were really lucky they would sync up for a few beats. It would only happen for a second, but when it did, it was like music. All different instruments coming together as one. You were trained to distinguish your siblings heart beats, but when they combined there was no telling who was who. Klaus or Luther, Five or Diego, Vanya or Ben they were indistinguishable. It was only after two or three beats separated that you could tell. You're sure that if you told them about your love for their hearts, they would be weirded out. So you've kept it to yourself. To this day the sounds and patterns of your siblings live inside your brain. Training forever burnt into your skull.

Your thoughts come to a close as the cab stops in front of your complex. As you walk up to your floor you extend your senses to the greater neighborhood around. Searching in vain for your siblings. Surprisingly you find the faintest sound belonging to Five. Two other heart beats foreign to you are with him. Unlocking your door and closing it with a click your hang up your coat and prepare to settle in for the night. Exhausted, your mind is quick to let Five's heart slip into your subconscious. It makes your some nice background noise as you sit on your couch sleep blinks in and out as your own heart rate slows.

Five's however doesn't get the memo. It cuts out, and accelerates to levels harmful to the common human. Your mind is too tired from the long day, but a part of you begs to keep your eyes and ears open. Five's heart only cuts out when he's jumping, and it's happening way too soon. But with how far away he is there's no use in listening any longer. Five's the one who can teleport anyway your brain reasons. As long as his heart doesn't stop, you shouldn't have to worry.

A couple minutes pass and Five jumps out of your reach before flickering back in. See, he's fine you slip in and out of sleep, still calling out to your siblings. Eventually your able to fall into a gentle sleep. Soothed by the hearts of your neighbors, and the cars passing below..

Days are long for a wolf living among sheep. Every passerby is a meal that is practically begging to be devoured. The wolf's life as a sheep doctor is torturous. Can you imagine? A perfectly prepared meal sitting open on a table. The wolf is sure that anyone would understand if they took a bite, after all isn't it the wolf's natural instincts? Why should the wolf have to starve itself as sheep prance around them? Aren't the sheep just asking for a wolf to come along?!

It's pointless for a wolf to hold back, barely surviving isn't enough. When you have an infinite source of food, wouldn't you just dig in. Why hold back? Who's to judge you if you just eat them too? It's not like the sheep ever saw the wolf as anything more than a predator. Proving them right is only natural. It's always been the way of life, hasn't it? Survival of the fittest and all…

You're sweating, limbs aching. You must of fallen asleep on the couch again. There's this loud beating in your ears, it's starting to get on your nerves. Oh wait, it's your heart. No wonder it was so loud. Faintly other hearts join yours through the quiet night until you realize one's different from the rest. It's unique, and it's fast. Too fast. You groan, naps always act like a hard reset. All sorts of questions come to mind. Who am I, where am I, what time is it, hell what day is it? The special heart beat has gotten louder, faster in your ears. Faintly you remember you were listening for this very heart.

As your mind clears it all comes back to you. It's Five's heart. Five's back. His heart is going way too fast to be normal, and it's giving you a headache. You stand with a huff. 'Might as well go check'. You think to yourself as you put your coat and shoes on. The walk to Five's location is interrupted as he jumps away. Luckily you can still hear it. Now that you think about it, you can hear another. Vanya's apartment must be close. How Five managed to find it is beyond you. You sigh and call a cab, you've already walked too long tonight. If you want to hold out until your next feeding day you'll need to hold back on wasting energy.

The ride is easy, and your left in font of Vanya's complex. You'll just have to guess with your ears what floor she's on. As you walk floor to floor you start to hear voices. Five's talking, you must be getting close then. As you step up to the door you breathe in a calming breath. Here goes nothing you knock on the door eight times, a calling card you used to use as kids. The conversation inside halts. Quickly Vanya walks to the door before opening it. When the door opens that's when you can smell it. Fresh food.

As your eyes scan the room for it your eyes land on a injured Five. It's not his blood you can smell though. He has someone, he has someone's limbs. Quickly your mouth fills with saliva. You rip your eyes away to focus on Vanya. Their concerned face meets your stoic one. You smile, "Hey, you left early and I barely got to talk to you today." You hope this will be a decent lie. Luckily for you they fall for it. "Oh right sorry, I just needed a breather." Vanya replies, "Yeah so did I, our siblings are just as loud as ever." As Vanya opens the door further you step in the space. "Is that a new violin bow? Did the old one finally break?" You smile sadly, it was practically a gift from father. "Yeah it couldn't take anymore string repairs." Vanya closes the door before turning to look at the old thing.

Finally you turn to Five "What're you doing here? You smell like blood." Five smirks, "I knew I couldn't hide it from you." he pull out a wrap of newspaper. You can tell by the smell alone that it's flesh. You swallow as he unwraps it. Vanya gasps as he reveals three fingers, still fresh. "I need you to tell me about this person, think you can do it?" Five asks, he cut off fingers for you. He knew you would come and find him.

You clear your throat, "how long since they died?" You can't eat blood from the dead, father found that out the hard way. After 4 hours the blood turns to poison. "About an hour now." Five says casually. Vanya sits down on their couch, turned away as to not see. They've become accustomed over the years to your diet. But the fear that comes with severed parts is normal. It's ordinary.

"Alright" you outstretch you hand palm up. Five steps forward and drops the fingers into you hand. Your eyes lock onto them, it's been awhile since you've eaten body parts. Luckily your stomach can digest whole bones.

With one last breath you lift a finger up to your mouth. The taste is even better than the smell. The blood fills your mouth as your teeth tare the skin and muscle. The flavor is rich, and filling. Your teeth crunch the bones and grind them into nothing. The first goes too fast. As you bring up the second finger you focus on taking in any information you can.

Male, good diet, healthy. Another gulp. Upper 20s to lower 30s. There's a old blood pressure problem. He's taking the proper medication. His bones snap from the pressure of your jaw as the warm nectar of life drips down your throat. Veins burst gushing into your mouth. Lots of stress in daily life. Strict boss, long shifts taking a toll. High heart rate within the last seconds. Another bite and there's a slight after taste. He's had alcohol with the last 12 hours. Drinking irresponsibly on the job. The skin smells of gunpowder. Vastly different locations. A clean office then dirty streets. Steady hands on decline. The muscle is plump, he works out. Not enough at his age, but semi-regularly. The third has passed your lips without you noticing, too hungry. He hates his job, not enough money maybe. Or too many hours, bad coworkers. He's low on the chain, not respected enough.

Your hunger blinds you to the outside world. You lick you hand clean, stomach never truly full. Soon you realize that there's eyes on you. Quickly you straighten up. Your fangs are out, your eyes are probably blown out, you're panting like a dog. You lost track and now you've embarrassed yourself. You meet Five's eyes hesitantly, ashamed. He's smirking at you, that dumb look. It's like he's planned everything out and the pieces are all falling into place. You remember what he used to say, 'I only stand so close because I'm stronger than you'. "Well, what've you got?" Always one to cut to the chase. "Healthy, but an alcoholic. Regretful, angry about his job. Slightly drunk, but got another shift less than 10 hours ago. Works for an office type headquarters, but is low on the chain. A throw away worker. Quickly replaced." You finish as you take out a spare tissue to wipe any leftover blood. Five nods at each point before turning to sit back onto the chair behind him. "Thank you for the plentiful meal." You say as your face wipes clean. Five scowls. You walk around the couch before sitting next to Vanya.

Eventually it gets late, Vanya insists both of you stay until morning. You're quick to accept while Five goes along with it. Vanya brings out blankets for Five and invites you to sleep over in their room. You lay beside Vanya, the same way you used to as kids. They fall asleep and you can hear Five jump away as Vanya's heart slows. You get up from the bed and write them a note. 'Shift at 5 :)' A little white lie. You leave it on their counter before heading back home. Gotta leave before sunlight. Even though you just ate, you didn't bring your umbrella with you.

Tomorrow you'll stop by the house. Peak your head in the door before leaving. You don't want to get too involved, getting close to the family never brings any good.

We're just too destructive.

[panickingpansexuality]

Mommy Issues

Your mother comes to visit you

Warning this story contains a not wonderful reunion with a toxic parent

For five years you have been no contact with your mother and everyday that her words didn't dig into you was another day that you were healing.

Elliott and you were at the Saloon sharing a drink in celebration of him coming home from a second book tour. He was working on another novel but was having trouble finding a good antagonist, luckily for him and ill fortunated of, you fate was just about to deliver one.

The door to the Saloon opened and your entire body went rigid.

"Ellie.." you whisper out. "We gotta go."

Elliott doesn't ask questions, the woman's back is turned to you two as she chats up Gus, quickly you two make it for the door and out into the night.

"Who is that?" He asks as you two speed walk home.

"My mother.." you say your heart clenching in your chest. "I can't believe she's here."

Elliott knew the relationship with your mother wasn't one to write home about, he knew that she had ripped your heart out with her narcissistic personality and you had fought hard to get away from her.

"Breathe my darling." Elliott said grabbing your hand

You went through your breathing exercises feeling the bile rise up in your throat. A thousand questions ran through your head as you wondered why she was here. Why now? Who had told her you were here? Dad?

You didn't remember the walk home, the feeling of Elliott holding your hand and controlling your uneven breaths were all you could register.

The lights were out, Elliot's body held yours as a form of sensory seeking.

"I hope she doesn't find the farm." You say quietly

Elliott stayed up with you until two when you both went to bed.

The next morning there was a knock on your door around ten. You went to answer it, Elliott was in the barn with Bubba the pig. Which left you alone with the woman you hated the most.

"Mother." You said.

"Hello (y/n), my darling. Stand up straight will you? Is this your home?" You stepped back as she let herself in.

"My, have you only just moved in? It looks like it needs a lot of work."

"We do ask." Elliott said from the doorway, "that guests take off their shoes before entering."

"Who's this?" Your mother asks taking a seat the table.

"My husband." You say tightly.

She looks Elliott up and down like a stain in the carpet, then turns to you.

"Well, I suppose that he's your type, though I think that he could do a little better."

"Do not speak about my partner like that." Elliott says coldly.

"Oh are you still in with that gender nonsense?" Your mother asks you. "Seriously darling, you're a perfect girl I see no reason to-"

"They," Elliott says tightly "are a perfect person and I think it's time you leave." Elliott says, "I spent four years chasing after that human. Four years of hoping and praying that I would get a single date and Yoba granted me with a partner more perfect than nature itself."

Your mother leaned back in the chair and looked him up and down.

"I came all this way and you're going to tell me to leave my daughter?"

"You came all this way to ridicule your child and I'm telling you that I will not stand by and have you rip away what they've been trying to heal for the last five years! Now you can either walk out or I can have our trusty goat kick you out."

"You let a goat into your house no wonder it's so-"

"Taylor!" Elliott yells outside, with a quick a high pitched whistle your goat jumps the stone fence and runs up past your dog and into the house.

The goat belts innocently at you, with a quick wag of it's tail it looks at the stranger and goes behind the chair she's sitting in.

The goat headbutts the chair and the woman stumbles out of it, she screeches as the goat and pulls the hem of your mother's skirt. She screams and runs out of the house cursing you both.

You run to the door and yell;

"Fuck off with you and your curses you hateful cunt!"

Elliott laughs and Taylor the goat belts after her, then innocently leaves the house and goes for the berry bush for a well deserved treat.

"Are you alright?" Elliott asks you.

You sigh and lean against the doorway, heart pounding, shaking your head you wordlessly allow Elliott to hold you in his arms.

"I froze up..thank you so much for standing up for me."

Elliott shakes kisses the top of your head, his arms like a weight holding you to reality that you're safe.

"I will always do what I can for you, please don't thank me for doing the bare minimum."

"Elliott, it isn't the bare minimum to me..its more than I could ever dream of someone doing for me."

Elliott sighs, a knot in his chest forming at how such a little basic action means the world to you, he feels good that he made you feel good but he hates how it was through him doing something anyone should do for you.

Your husband is almost startled when suddenly you pull away and place a sensual kiss to his lips, his arms coming to your ribcage to hold you close, a small groan escaping him as you kiss.

Someday you'll realize that someone who loves you should do more than the bare minimum for you and your confidence will truly thrive then and he can't wait to grow with you through that.

[froody]

My dad gets upset sometimes because he isn’t his mother’s favorite child and he has never been, it’s always been my uncle who he looks down on. Dad ‘does more for [gandma]’ like being in charge of her finances and estate planning. Fundamentally he is a dutiful son but the thing is my uncle is actually a loving son and my father isn’t. My father goes out of his way to belittle, needle and hurt her. One example that comes to mind is the fact my grandmother struggled with anorexia for much of her life, from the 60s to the late 90s. Now she is 73 years old and disabled and sick and she has gained weight she cannot lose, frankly, losing the weight would be more detrimental to her physical health. But my super fatphobic dad makes sure to bring up her weight at least once every time they see each other.

My dad is inattentive to her wants, her needs, her thoughts, her physical and mental state. She has schizoeffective disorder. She’s been mentally ill my entire life. It’s not her fault but he gets so frustrated with her when she gets confused or experiences delusions.

Essentially, my uncle isn’t a raging misogynist and he’s a sweet caring guy. He provides a lot of mental and emotional support and attention that she needs that my dad has never supplied. And my dad wonders why he isn’t the favorite.

[jamethinks]

I’m about to set my clothes on fire so midnight headcanon:

When Yor and Yuri were young sometimes Yor would have to head out for a midnight job and Yuri would try to follow her so in order to get him to stop she have a big poster of Donovan Desmond and would put it up by the front door so anytime he went into the living room it would stare at him and he would run back into his room.

For some ungodly reason their father told them that the Desmonds eat people and they’re skin walkers so Yor embellished that already insane story and told Yuri that now that a Desmond is prime minister they have hunters all around looking for young kids to serve up to him and his skin walker family.

This coincides with the rumor that Donovan plotted to cause the train crash that killed the prime minister but also their parents (not on purpose) so Yor told him that after their parents died Donovan and his family ate them and they’re looking for them next.

So of course now Yuri is irrationally afraid of Donovan and actually is afraid to meet. His team found out he was afraid of him and decided to replace all the photos of Yor with photos of Donovan and when he saw them he literally had a panic attack and started hyperventilating and that’s how everyone found out Yuri has a genuine phobia of Donovan

(In case you don’t get it uh it’s directly related to unsolved trauma about his parents death. Obviously telling a 7 year old their parents got eaten is not a good idea but you know. Check tags for more info)

[toomuchdivergentformyneuro]

probably the most constant thing of my life has been the social isolation and loneliness i experience

since i was a young child, i’ve always struggled to make and find friends, and often was left alone

for a long time, nothing could defeat my spirits and will to make friends, and even the loneliness wasn’t enough to make me stop

nowadays, it gets to me, the loneliness, and i often wonder if i’ll have all the friends i’ve deserved all along

[platypusisnotonfire]

The post i recently reblogged about the Romeo and Juliet with heelys in reminded me of the way I got my first heelys.

It was when we lived in the states (NYC area) and my mother had a drs appointment that was going to take at least an hour. I was 8, and allowed to either stay in the waiting room or go to the rooftop garden, but that was all.

At the age of eight I had gotten my first job that paid like, appreciable money (I worked for the family business for five dollars an hour prior to this but got a job with a friend of the family pulling 100 dollars a week doing two nights of office cleaning with them. Yea, child labor. Not the point of my funny story tho. I liked my money. I’m honestly not mad about it.)

So I had cash.

And damn I wanted heelys.

So I illicitly left the building and walked six blocks to the closest Modell’s (gotta go to mo’s) and bought my gorgeous heelys for 30 big bucks.

At this age I had taken to carting around a huge messenger bag for all my books and I had premeditated this excursion and packed an empty box in the bag to make it look full, chucked that in a crosswalk garbage bin and carried the shoebox back.

Not questioned by the mother. None the wiser I had left.

No one was awake to see me leave for school wearing them and no one was home to see me come home wearing them and I got away with this for literal years (I had had a fairly large growth spurt at 8 and bought two sizes too big so they fit for ages)

[milk-lover]

Ohhh my gosh my parents are so exhausting. I love them but goddamn i just want to sleep for 100 years. This was day 2 of Family Time we have Brunch in less than 10 hours I am going to Die

[daisywords]

One of my biggest nitpicks in fiction concerns the feeding of babies. Mothers dying during/shortly after childbirth or the baby being separated form the mother shortly after birth is pretty common in fiction. It is/was also common enough in real life, which is why I think a lot of writers/readers don't think too hard about this. however. Historically, the only reason the vast majority of babies survived being separated from their mother was because there was at least one other woman around to breastfeed them. Before modern formula, yes, people did use other substitutes, but they were rarely, if ever, nutritionally sufficient.

Newborns can't eat adult food. They can't really survive on animal milk. If your story takes place in a world before/without formula, a baby separated from its mother is going to either be nursed by someone else, or starve.

It doesn't have to be a huge plot point, but idk at least don't explicitly describe the situation as excluding the possibility of a wetnurse. "The father or the great grandmother or the neighbor man or the older sibling took and raised the baby completely alone in a cave for a year." Nope. That baby is dead I'm sorry. "The baby was kidnapped shortly after birth by a wizard and hidden away in a secret tower" um quick question was the wizard lactating? "The mother refused to see or touch her child after birth so the baby was left to the care of the ailing grandfather" the grandfather who made the necessary arrangements with women in the neighborhood, right? right? OR THAT GREAT OFFENDER "A newborn baby was left on the doorstep and they brought it in and took care of it no issues" What Are You Going to Feed That Baby. Hello?

Like. It's not impossible, but arrangements are going to have to be made. There are some logistics.

[cannotfly]

tags; verses

*❈ ‣ look at you pale and ivory-skinned‚ look at you looking so sad — ( v: canon. )  

*❈ ‣ poor child‚ she needs so much correction: she sings if left alone — ( v: foggs. ) 

*❈ ‣ and we’ll sail the world and see its wonders‚ from the pearls of spain to the rubies of tibet — ( v: post. ) 

*❈ ‣ isn’t that her dainty footstep on the stair? yes‚ isn’t that her shadow on the wall? — ( v: alternate. )  

*❈ ‣ i lived this one wild life‚ i ripped it apart‚ i pushed through the corners with no apologies — ( v: modern. )

*❈ ‣ and though my soul will die with you‚ our child will not be left alone to spend a lifetime wondering how — ( v: single mother. )

*❈ ‣ i have to run away‚ i have to sit and stay; i'm gonna live a life where i'm proud of the way that i spent my days — ( v. hawkins. )  

*❈ ‣ this was an escape plan‚ carefully timed it‚ so let me go and dive into the waves below — ( v: panem. )

*❈ ‣ don’t need a ring for my finger‚ just need a steady hand to hold — ( v: main. feat. anyfight )    

*❈ ‣ chasing our heart’s desire but we go on pretending stories like ours have happy endings — ( v: affair. feat. anyfight ) 

*❈ ‣ if you love me tell me that you love me; if you don't just tell me that you do — ( v: workhouse. feat. anyfight ) 

*❈ ‣ wasn't it gonna be the two of us? weren't we birds of a feather?— ( v: feat. arthur / notefinal. )  

*❈ ‣ for somebody i thought was my savior‚ you sure make me do a whole lot of labor — ( v: feat. riff / notefinal )  

*❈ ‣ i had this feeling as i was falling the sound across the bay was the sound of you calling — ( v: great gatsby. feat. notefinal )

*❈ ‣ only we know what we’ve both been through‚ if i save you will you save me too? — ( v: main. feat. art / notefinal ) 

[tonycries]

The Heir - G.S.

Synopsis. No, your clan leader husband won’t stop until he gives you an heir. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Gojo, established relationship, he’s cray-cray (for you), bréeding - like a LOT, oral (fem receiving), unprotected, creampíe, marathon, séx, running from it, use of “my wife”, overstim, FÉRAL Satoru, absolutely heinous, mentions of kníves and bIood, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.3k

A/N. Guess what ya girlie is back with clan leader Gojo hehe.

An heir to the Gojo clan - no matter how small, how weak - could eradicate all three of the big clans before even being born. Much like their father. 

You knew that. Satoru knew that. And, unfortunately for him, so did the stuck-up old toad currently sputtering across from him. 

“I am not asking for permission.” Satoru smiles, deathly calm. “Simply that everyone vacates the Estate. After all, what the madam wants, the madam shall get.”

“But- but young master! It’s madness- An heir can tip the scales of power like never before!” The elder lunges frantically over the meeting room table. “I cannot allow- a-and considering the madam’s lowly lineage-”

Schwing!

They say that the infamous young head of the Gojo clan has a katana as hauntingly beautiful as he is - a blade of pure white, with a sapphire hilt. Though, there wasn’t anyone left to tell the tale - and Satoru wasn’t about to let that change anytime soon. 

The long, deceptively delicate sword glints sharply against Satoru’s humorless grin, and those cold, cold eyes. Unblinking - crazed, as he hums, “What did you say about my wife?”

The man in front of him can do nothing but yelp in fear, “I- it could- the scale of ah-”

“No.” The freezing cold blade presses deeper against skin. And Satoru’s tutting, “Try again.”

“Th-the madam!” Pathetic tears stain those expensive tatami mats below, every shred of previous ego wiped away as the elder’s forced to echo his words. “It is no lie that her b-background is…unsuitable-”

Oh this was why Satoru hated these meetings - and for once in his life he’d been the one to summon it instead of being forced to attend. What a joke. If only this elder had agreed to vacate everyone in the Estate like he’d wanted, then none of this would’ve happened. Seriously, how hard was it to get some alone time with you? 

Satoru sighs, blue yukata rustling as he grips the hilt tighter. “Do you know why you’re here, advisor? Why any of you little council of elders are still here?” And he doesn’t wait for an answer - couldn’t care less about it anyway. Plowing on in that same sweet, dangerous tone - as if scolding a stubborn child, “My lovely wife is kind, you see. Too kind. Doesn’t like for me to get my hands dirty.”

He lets his arm retract slightly, as if giving up on the conversation topic at hand. And oh for all his wisdom, the elder should’ve known better than to let the silence lull into one of safety. Should’ve known better than to let out a breath of relief. Relaxing - ever-so-slightly, to be stupid enough to mutter, “S-see young master. I told- you-”

Because this was Gojo Satoru, and he’s chuckling - and that was never a good sign for anyone but you. “She’d make such a perfect mother, don’t you think?”

---

SLAM!

You startle - there was only ever one person that dared to kick open the doors of the Gojo Estate that way, like he was out for blood.

Eyes tearing from your window towards the now-splintered doorway and-

Oh. Oh shit. 

Your voice dies in your throat as the metallic tang of blood hits your nose - followed very shortly by the realization that this was your husband. Towering figure leaning against the frame, gaze frantic - bouncing off everywhere but you, fingers twitching on the stained handle of his katana, looking for all the world like he’d seen a ghost. 

What the fuck happened?

“Satoru?” you breathe. And the sound of your voice his eyes finally snap to you - widening, like he’d finally noticed your figure standing there. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. Stepping forward in concern, “Are you o-”

You’ve barely made it two steps before Satoru’s closing the distance in a split-second, dropping to his knees before you with a harsh thump!

You wince at the sound, but if it hurt then he doesn’t show it. Anything but - in fact, looking more blissed out than you’ve ever seen him as he lets his prized katana clatter to the floor, looping two powerful arms around your waist.

And it’s times like this - when he nuzzles his cheek against your stomach, sighing in contentment - that you forget about those blossoming stains of red on his yukata. None of his, you bet. 

Threading your fingers through his soft hair, you repeat, “Are you okay, Toru?”

And oh. 

Oh, it only takes those words - and your sweet sweet voice - before Satoru’s entire body jolts. Taking a sharp inhale, fingers trembling as they clutch onto the fabric of your yukata. “An heir.” Words strained, ragged. Some deep, visceral part of himself peaking up at you through those hazy, half-lidded eyes, “Would you give me an heir, my wife?”

You weren’t making it out alive. 

You’re gasping - partially because of his words, partially because that’s all it takes for him to yank you down. Sprawling you out like such a slut on the floor. “Wha- an heir?”

It’s not something you expected him to even consider - that sleepy, quiet little pillowtalk from earlier today where you’d mindlessly wondered out loud whether your husband was ready for kids. Hell, Satoru was never a morning person, so you didn’t expect him to even have heard the question let alone this. 

Nosing at your racing pulse, whispering, “An heir. You think I’d ever deny you, pretty?” Like he couldn’t believe it himself - sharp canines nipping at your neck, “My heir.”

It’s like it was the only thing he could say - could even think about right now as his lips burned a path down your jaw, into the valley of your breasts. Muffled, “N’ now we have the Estate all to ourselves, so I can ruin you as much as I hah- want.”

And for the second time today, you’re actually registering that this wasn’t the same yukata your husband had kissed senseless in before the meeting. Or, at least, those patches of red were new.

“Satoru…” You pull his face back.

“No- no no please- Come back-” you squeal when he just drags you across the floor by the hips, pressing you up against that massive bulge, back to sloppily kissing the underside of your jaw. “Was jus’ one I swear- m’sorry about gettin’ the fabric dirty.”

“Satoru.”

“Wasn’t gonna break you where everyone could hear right?” 

And fuck he doesn’t wait to hear a response, no - it’s been far too long, and every little scold from you has all the blood in Satoru’s body rushing to his aching cock. His lips are crashing onto yours, so desperate and needy. 

“Sa-toru!” you manage to squeal through the way he sips at your candied lips. Letting out pained, breathless little grunts like each swipe of his tongue against your mouth was driving him insane. 

“Shhh shhh, m’here m’here.” he pants into your open mouth, hands wandering everywhere. Cupping your ass, your breasts, nudging open your jaw to let him suck so filthily on your tongue. “Fuck- m’here.” He’s licking up the drool pooling at the corner of your mouth already, “N’ m’gonna ruin-” One hand makes its way to palm your clothed cunt, “-her.”

But, alas, no matter how many times Satoru’s done this before - it never gets any easier, or as less heavenly of a sight for him. 

With you all disheveled and splayed out for him, your tits almost spilling out of your yukata with the way his hands have been so greedy. So thoughtless. 

Satoru groans, dipping his head forward to peck messily at your lips. “Mmm- ” Pulling back just enough to mutter, “Gonna let me breed this pretty cunt, hm?” 

It’s all you can do to give him a half-delirious little nod of agreement, lower lip wobbling at just how hungrily he was looking at you. Eyes wide, lips curling into a crazed smile, fingers trembling with anticipation as he deftly works on untying your robe. 

“Is my wife gonna give me a pretty baby?” He gasps out, strangled. “An heir?” He presses a sloppy peck to your glossy lips, strings of spit snapping when he breaks apart to whisper. “One to take out all these dumb fucks?” Again, so dizzyingly. And again. “Oh how I’d love to see their fuckin’ faces.” And again and again and again. Kisses punctuated by that little mantra - “An heir. My heir. I need you to give me a baby, pretty.”

And then your yukata’s being pulled down your shoulders, the expensive fabric ripping down the side with the way he was so ravenous. Goosebumps prickling down your skin as fast as Satoru can get his hands on every inch of you.

“Oh, look at you.” his jaw falls slack, palms kneading at your soft breasts. “Fuck- the mother of my kids.” He rolls his thumb over your hardened nipples, rubbing lazy little circles, “I need to- fuck!” 

Before you know it he’s pinning your arching body down onto the floor. One hand easily pinning down both of yours, the other angling your lips back onto his, a knee wedged between your damp thighs. 

You whine at the feeling of Satoru’s thigh rubbing up against your drenched panties.

But he could barely hear - fuck, you didn’t even know if Satoru was breathing with the way he wraps his pretty pink lips around one of your pert nipples. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, cheeks hollowing as he sucks - harsh.

“Need to fill these up- s’gonna be so sweet. So full.” he’s blabbering into your tits, tongue rolling around your sensitive nipples. Incessant, like he was somehow trying to draw out milk. “I can only hope they hah- share, right?”

You buck your hips up, mewling as your throbbing clit catches on the dips and curves of the muscles on Satoru’s leg. “P-please, Toru. Don’t tease.”

And oh, when has he ever denied you? Hell, Satoru would burn down this entire world and himself if it meant giving his wife anything and everything. Especially the future mother of his kids. 

With a final, playful bite, you watch with glassy eyes at the way he dances his lips down. Slow. Teasing. Eyes locked with you all the while like some sort of predator cornering his prey. 

“And this-” Satoru stops halfway down, pressing a deep, sultry kiss onto your bare stomach, “Oh this. Gonna be so round n’ pretty. Absolutely glowing f’me, right? Fuck!” 

Snapping his head down at the feeling of your grinding your hips so sluttily onto his legs, slick seeping through your panties and onto his skin. 

“Oh.” he sighs, awe-struck. More to himself than you at this point, “You can kill me if you’re not with my heir by the time we’re done, pretty.”

A promise.

And with it went whatever was left of Satoru’s poor sanity - and whatever pathetic chance there was of you making it out of this alive. 

Immediately, Satoru fists your flimsy panties in his grasp. So see-through they were practically useless anyway. Reveling in your panicked little gaze as he pulls - rips them clean off your dripping cunt. 

“Oh god- There we go.” he moans, hooking two arms underneath your legs and pushing up, up, up - all the way until your knees were pressing up against your tits. Your lips wobble when Satoru takes the time to admire your pussy, breaths coming out in feverish little puffs to watch the way you glisten and clench at nothing. Licking his lips - salivating even - at the sight of your slick beading through your puffy folds. He runs a thumb along your sopping wet slit, “Better wish her good luck tonight.”

And, usually, your husband was refined - he teased and toyed with your poor cunt until you were begging to have an ounce of friction. But right now, it’s a wonder he doesn’t get whiplash with how fast he’s pushing his face into your pussy.

“Mm-” Satoru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as his tongue laps at your dripping wet cunt. Tipping his head back, back, back to let your sweet sweet juices slide down his throat. “Fuck that. Even luck won’t save you from me- hah-”

“Toru!” you arch off the cool floor as he cards the tip of his tongue between your puffy folds. From the base of your sloppy entrance, all the way up to your throbbing clit. “Hngh- s’too-”

He was going too fast too soon. 

You whine at the palm pushing your unstable hips flat onto the ground, holding you still while Satoru licks all over as he pleases. “Now now, how are ya gonna ngh- fuck so sweet- handle later if ya can’t even handle this, pretty?”

Sucking on your clit in such a messy, open-mouthed kiss. “Fuck. Shouldn’t have told me about an heir.” he’s murmuring into your cunt. Harsh - rolling his tongue against the sensitive nub in a way he knows will have you crying out so prettily. “Fuuuck you shouldn’t h- oh- Ohhh, look at you, my wife.”, breathing in deep, ragged gasps of air only to go deeper. “Fuck- just look at you. You’re so wet I could fuck you just like this.”

As if to prove his point, he’s urgently bullying the tip of his tongue between your plushy walls. And it was true - so pathetically true. You take him in so easily. 

Somehow, you manage to crack an eye open to spy downwards - only to be met with Satoru’s eyes already on yours. Hazy, curtained by his messy hair, swollen lips curving up to flash you such a devilish grin as he squeezes his tongue past that feeble, first ring of resistance. In and out in and out in and-

“Ohh. Squeezing me so fuckin’ tight.” His jaw grinds deeper, nose flush against your clit. “Ya like that idea? Like the thought of me p-painting ah- slutty pussy white already?”

Your embarrassed little whine isn’t enough of an answer for your husband. No, he’s pressing his fingers - all glossy and covered with a sheen of your slick - onto your pulsing clit. Just barely grazing in a way that has you crying out. 

Making out with your cunt so sloppily, “Tha’s more like it.” Heavy eyes boring into yours - goading, even, for you to give more of a reaction. “Fuck- use those words, pretty. Scream.” Satoru’s fucking into your sloppy hole the way he’s been dreaming to do with his rock-hard cock. “After all, we h-have the Estate all to ourselves, right?”

Faster. Sloppier. 

Pushing and pulling his tongue in a way that has you sobbing, “Yes! Please- wan’- ngh” Thighs squeezing around Satoru’s fervent head, “W-wan you to jus’ breed me, Toru-”

Oh.

Fuck, you might’ve just signed your will away at this point. 

Because in a split-second, you’re cumming. 

Shit, were you glad that there was no one in the house. Sobbing out a broken whine of his name, fingers white-knuckled on Satoru’s hair while you gush all over his pretty face. Just dragging your sloppy cunt all over his mouth - using him through your high. 

And he’s more than happy to be dragged and angled all you please. Greedily lapping up your syrupy sweet juices, just dipping his tongue into your hole to feel the way you clench around him. 

But it’s not long before Satoru’s pulling away. Swallowing a disappointed whine, you gape up at the absolutely feral man looming above you. 

Lips plump and glossy, your juices dripping all the way down his chin, his jaw. Teeth bared, a pretty pink blush dusting over those cheeks - and you have half the mind to wonder how high the kill count actually is. Whether you’d be on it, too. 

“Heh, kill count?” Satoru grins, teeth grazing so dangerously over your racing pulse. Shit, did you say that out loud? “Funny, real funny.” And with that, he’s thumbing apart your swollen folds, biting his lips at the sight of your quivering hole. “Wonder if our- hah- kid’s gonna have your-” Without warning, he spits. Once. Twice. Gliding the pads of his fingers along the thick globs of spit on your cunt, “-humor?”

And oh how ironic it was for Satoru to be groaning out sweet little spiels of what your kids might look like, when his fingers were anything but. 

Stretching out your gummy entrance, having the audacity to laugh - laugh - at how desperately your pussy was trying to milk his fingers. 

“Y-you’re so mean-”

“And yer killin’ me- ohhh you’re gonna be the death of me.” he mutters - strained. Depraved. Hastily pushing apart his yukata. He hisses, “Fuck-”

You can’t help but gasp at the sinful sight before you - Satoru’s blush reaches down his sculpted chest, down, down, down all the way to his painfully hard cock. Curved against his abs, already so angry and soaked with precum. Giving you a pretty little peak of those veins glistening against the dim lighting. 

Before you even know what’s happening, he’s circling his fat, weepy head around your sloppy hole. Slow, lazy patterns to tease your cunt. “Can only pray m’not dead before I see ngh- fuck- my heir.”

It’s like something breaks. And Satoru’s remembering that no, this isn’t just any child - it’s the next Gojo. That grip on the base of his swollen cock tightening when he slips past your pussy lips. 

“Oh! Toru- f-fuck wait s’too big-” you keen, nails digging into where his yukata was sliding off his milky, sculpted shoulders. Hard enough to break skin. “It’s ah-”

“No.” he spits into your sagging mouth. “No no no no- wait fuck- ngh squeezing so fucking- tight.” Hips pushing in quick, shallow little thrusts to squeeze more of his achy head inside. “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck hold on. Need this. Need this so bad- please!”

And you can’t do anything but arch into his touch, scrambling up onto your elbows to- shit, that was a bad idea. 

Because one look at the sight of your poor cunt, all bulging and stretched out on Satoru’s massive cock was enough to have you running away. 

You’d barely made a movement to escape, feet flattening on the floor to buck your hips because shit it was too much. And it was a useless effort, anyway, because Satoru’s dragging you back so easily, pulling your limp body deeper down his swollen cock. 

“Need this. Need this need this so bad, pretty.” he groans, barely even halfway in yet. Still pushing, still relentless. “Need to breed this cunt so bad.”

Some tiny, useless part of Satoru’s rationality knows that he should slow down - maybe give you a second to relax. To maybe even breathe. But he was out of control now, hips stuttering and wrenching forwards like he couldn’t stop. 

So he’s simply gripping onto your shaky thighs harder, sure to leave neat little indents of his nails to admire tomorrow - or, whenever he gets back his sanity, that is. 

Satoru hisses at the way you’re so pliant below him. Limp, letting him rest your legs on his muscled shoulders. “Think I needa manhandle ya more often, pretty.” Pressing down, down - all the way until you were folded in half beneath him in such a mean mating press. “Can’t- can’t stop-”

The change in angle makes you scream out Satoru’s name - and it makes him bottom out. Finally. 

Fuck, you weren’t making it out alive.

“Oh.” he grunts at the feeling of his heavy balls smacking against your ass, his fat, leaky tip kissing against your cervix. God, if Satoru was any less of a man he thinks he could’ve cum just from the feeling of you trying to suck him up already. 

“Oh- oh my god-” you gasp when he presses down about halfway down your stomach, Pressing down for that bulge, hard. “You’re in s-so deep ngh- S’like you’re pushing into my ngh- lungs.”

Fuck, if you talked any more with that pretty mouth then Satoru was bound to pass out. Blindly, he’s feeling for your pouty mouth, kissing and nibbling at your wobbling lips like a subconscious apology. For what was to come, that is.

Because Satoru Gojo spares no apologies when he starts moving - finally. Finally fucking you the way he’s been dreaming of all throughout that droning meeting. 

And he says so - a little over fifteen times, in fact, while he splits you apart on his cock. 

“-n’ when I was negotiating those ngh- c-clan deals. N’ when I was at that meeting-” he gasps, shoving your legs so far apart it burned. “S’all I could hah- think of. Everything - don’t give a fuck if I got a contract wrong.”

Each word was punctuated by a rough, harsh ram of his cock, stretching out your gummy walls so far apart like he wanted to make his mark there. Pushing - even when he could feel his aching tip nudging at your cervix.

So merciless - violent even - with the way he’s slamming back into you. Molding your plushy walls to every ridge and curve of his massive cock. It was impossible to even form coherent sentences with his harsh pace. 

A large hand flattens beside your head as Satoru’s thrusts get deeper. More purposeful. You almost sob at the sheer pressure when he dances his fingers down to rub quick, methodical little circles on your clit. “Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. “M-more.”

But it wasn’t enough.

“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. And shit at that very moment you almost understood why even the most hardened of clan leaders feared to even look at Gojo Satoru wrong. Because he was giving you a sopping, fucked-out smile, eyes widened, voice trembling, “You want more?”

And of course this was the strongest. Of course, he was ruthless. 

Of course, it takes him exactly two seconds to pull out of your heavenly cunt and flip you onto your stomach. One hand coming under you to angle your hips up until you were on all fours - like some ragdoll. The other feverish, distracting on your clit while he bullies his achingly hard cock past your sopping entrance once more. 

“Fuck!” your voice is hoarse when you scream. Teeth gritting because fuck the stretch was too sinful and Satoru’s hips were too harsh. Too hellbent on fucking into you like he’d lost control. “O-oh please, Toru-”

He doesn’t waste time easing you into it this time, picking up where he left off with that maddening cadence. And you were glad he had an arm on your hips because your knees were weakening with each thrust, slowly sliding down the floor before-

“Aw, my poor girl.” you hear Satoru coo from above you. Muscled chest rubbing up against your back, “S’alright. M’gonna take care of it. You jus’ hafta take it- jus’ take it like the good lil’ wife you are.” his body bows into yours, strands of white sticking to his forehead. “N’ I’ll take fuck fuck fuck- care of everything.” So sloppy with his rhythm, pushing you further and further up the floor with each movement - only to reel you right back so easily. “I’ll wash ‘em and hah- clothe ‘em n’ t-teach ‘em to take over this godforsaken society. To protect their momma.”

“T-Toru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic. “I’m…”

“Hm?”

He didn’t even have to ask - he could feel the way you were squeezing so hard around him, like you were trying to suck the fucking soul out of him. The way the only thing you could get out was his name. 

His perfect wife. 

Sobbing out, “Close! So close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”

He was losing his fucking mind. 

Biting down so hard at the crook of your neck to keep himself from cumming before you, he moans deliciously, “Then cum. Fucking cum. Please- wan’ you to cum on my cock.” Wrists aching with how desperate he was moving, “Cum- yeah yeah yeah fucking- cum- Cum for your husband.”

Oh, if heaven was real then whatever was left of that part of Satoru that could still form coherent thoughts knew that this was it. 

Watching you fall apart like such a slut all over his cock. Not even realizing it at first - just that your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, swollen lips falling slack, letting out such a pretty cry of his name that he can’t help but cum, too. 

You don’t know who’s more far gone - you, with your head spinning, a lewd little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time Satoru fucks you through your high. 

Or him, gushing out in thick, hot ropes of cum that overspill from your snug cunt. 

“So muchhh.” you whine, heavy head being held up by your husband. “S’too much.”

And he knew what you were talking about - because Satoru was cumming and cumming and cumming so hard it was like he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. Because he was mesmerized by that creamy trail of white drooling down your folds, forming an obscene ring at those tufts of white at his base. 

“Too much?” Satoru hisses. “Too much?”

You can only give a barely-lucid nod, whimpering when he doesn’t ease up. Not one bit, in fact, Satoru was only abandoning the hand playing with your ravaged clit to press down on your abdomen. Hard. 

“There we hah- go. Better now?” The hand supporting your head forced you to look down below, at the sticky mess of white covering your cunt. Slobbering all over Satoru’s cock - even down to his thighs. “Now we got fuck- more space.”

You don’t even realize you’re scrambling away until Satoru gasps, panicked, “No no no- we’re not done, pretty. Fuckkk we’re far from done.” Fingers tightening around your neck to pull you deeper down his cock, holding you in place. Just dragging you along his length. “Gotta make sure it takes. Why else d’you think no one in the Estate will be back until tomorrow?”

He doesn’t wait for a response - not that you could give one, anyway, with how you were being fucked dumb on his cock again. 

A strong, powerful leg hooks around yours, pushing you down with his body weight. “So that we ngh- h-have enough time to prepare for my heir.” Weeping head grazing all those sensitive spots so expertly. “T-to plan and and- ruin you and- fuck you feel so good. They’ll be the most powerful- hah- jus’ watch. Those fuckers better w-wait and see.”

So debauched and fucked-out that you don’t even know what he’s running his mouth about now, just heavy, urgent words slurred into your neck while he fucks you just as sloppily. 

“Don’t know?”

Fuck. You said it out loud again. 

And the embarrassing realization has your eyes screwing open, gazing tearily back at an amused Satoru. Well, as amused as he could be when he was just as wrecked as you. 

Kissing your sweaty forehead, hips reeling back all the way until your cunt was missing the stretch - bucking traitorously against the fat mushroom tip grazing your entrance. Making a mess of precum down below.

“S’alright, pretty.” he groans, sandwiching his cock between your puffy folds. “Because you just have to sit there n’ ngh- take- it.”

If you thought that Satoru was broken before then he was absolutely ruined now. 

Because there was no reason or rhythm to his actions now - just mindless, feral movements to milk his cock as much as he physically could on your pussy. Running only on pure need and the thought of you round and so full with his kid. 

“Ah!” you’re startled out of your reverie by something wet. Whirling sluggishly to catch the tears of overstimulation brimming at Satoru’s heavy eyes - shit, you wondered if he even knew what he was doing at this point. “T-Toru…you- ngh- o-okay?”

The only response you get is an unsteady nod. 

“-the best.” he whispers, twitching balls squeezing so painfully with each slap against your ass. Faster. Absolutely soaked with the sinful concoction of your juices and his cum. “We’ll be the best parents- ngh-” And fuck it was so much - too much. Too good. Painful pleasure.

Enough that all it takes is another, sloppy thrust before he’s seeing stars behind his eyes again. Cock twitching wildly inside your cunt as Satoru shoots load after load of cum to paint your pussy white. 

So warm with his cum - him - that Satoru’s body moves before his mind. Pooling the mess down below to nudge back into your cunt. “C’mon, pretty, c-can’t get ngh pregnant if ya don’t oh- cum.”

And it’s so embarrassing how that’’s all it takes for you to reach your high with a strained, barely audible moan. Voice shot, your own orgasm nothing but a few tingles that have your thighs fucking back into Satoru’s. 

“Satoru- Satoru Satoru Satoru.” you mewl, big fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Birds of a feather, they say. 

Hypnotized. Drunk off the feeling.

And, evidently, Satoru was, too. 

“Pretty…” his voice rings in your ear. Tinged with a tone you know didn’t bode well for you - or your poor, overfilled cunt. Bloated and dribbling already. “Are- sure- ngh-” 

And with a jolt, you realize he’s still moving. Still pushing and pulling in languid, slow strokes. Thighs shaking as the fatigue wears on him. 

If anyone saw Satoru like this, they’d have a heart attack. Flushed your favorite shade of pink, the lower half of his body well covered with a sheen of your obscenities. Eyes teary with sensitivity, cock still twitching and so angry as he clears his throat and tries again, “Are we- hah- sure it took?”

“Wh-what-” you gasp, breathing in big, deep inhales. “Yes- yes yes- oh my god it’won’t-”

“It will.” Satoru’s interruption almost comes out as a whine. And he’s more sluggish, dazed when he flips you over onto your back again - not too difficult, with the way you were practically splayed out already. “Th-this pussy is made to take it, right? T-to be bred by me?”

It’s almost like Satoru was begging for confirmation, plugging back in the excess of what was leaking out of your abused pussy. It was spreading in a lewd little pool now, seeping into the non-existent space between you two.

But oh how Satoru loved it. Couldn’t tear his eyes off of it, in fact as he noses at your neck. Barely even thrusting anymore, just raw grinds, “Right? Gotta make sure- ngh- heir. Oh-”

He’s darting his tongue out to lick at the beads of tears streaming down your cheek. The salty taste on his tongue having Satoru’s hips stuttering forwards. Again. And again - alternating, not on purpose - between hitting your cervix and that bruised g-spot. “Gonna give me an heir? Ohhh fuck fuck fuck- lemme breed this cunt?”

You’re using up every bit of energy left in your body to give that slow, shallow nod. Which is all the time it takes for the pool to spread even wider. For Satoru’s fingers to stumble their way back to play with your clit. 

Rolling his thumb over in a harsh, uncalculated pattern - if you could even call it that, just jerky, obscene movements to get you off. 

And it works. Hell, the two of you are barely in the state of mind to even feel it. But he’s finally cumming again, and so are you. 

“Ngh- Fuck-”

With a loud, pained cry Satoru tightens his grip on your body like a vice. Raw, sensitive, overusing his cock until it felt so empty. Until you felt so bloated it was like you could explode - or maybe that was your own orgasm. “Toru- c-cumming.”

You’re not sure, anymore. And you don’t know if either of you could bring yourselves to care at this moment, not when your eyelids grow heavy. Vision tinging with black in the corners, and the only thing you could see was your husbands face - sweaty, eyes almost closed, kiss-bitten lips moving in a soundless whisper.  “-the best- momma.”

A/N. CLAN LEADER GOJO SAVE MEE. Oh yeah the “can’t get pregnant without the momma cumming” bit was based on this old tale I’d heard where people used to gen believe that. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[foxgloveinspace]

I finally watched dune part 2.

I have some oddly mixed feelings about but I think I liked it???

(I put all my thoughts in the tags for some reason and I’m not rewriting them)