#[ he's decided to be a little shit about it ]

[bluukive]

Eyes On You

summary - you finally decide to give the gym a go, getting yourself involved with a man who's dead set on pushing you to your limits

wc - 5.4k

content - MDNI, insecure!reader x gymowner!Sukuna, mentions of weight, Sukuna's harsh at first, eventual mutual pining, solo mast. (m + F, separate), 0ral (f receiving), face s;tting, handj0b, slight body worship, submissive reader, freaky in the gym shower (anyone could hear them...but no one does?), teasing, hella unrealistic, really amateur writing like please I'm cringing so hard

an - uhm I've never written a mini fic before !! please excuse the awkward writing

Lazily proofread by me mb

It took all the courage you had to even think about signing up to the gym that opened down the road, but the little voice in the back of your head was telling you to go. Just check it out, it said. Walk around a little, and then right back out. Shouldn’t be hard, right?

Right?

Wrong. How wrong you were. It was easier said than done in hindsight, but you didn’t expect the heavy thud of rock music to blare throughout the facility until you felt your bones tremble. Nor did you expect large gaggles of gym bros swarming around the equipment, a few heads turning the moment you pushed open the glass door. Sure, there were enough women there also, but not enough to deter you from yanking the drawstrings of your hoodie. Your vision became obstructed as the hood tightened around your face, whispered curses leaving your lips.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you muttered, eyes darting side to side as the social anxiety set in. You were close to turning around on your heel and out of this building, leg already twitching. But a low, gravelly voice called out to you from beside a water fountain you were unfortunately standing too close to. 

“Lost? Nervous? Which one is it, girl?”

You don’t know how you missed this giant of a man, especially when his cropped, pink hair made him stick out like a sore thumb. Some strands were plastered to his sweaty forehead and concealed the judgement of his stare. Barely. His tank top also did a poor job of hiding those hulking muscles, flexing slightly with full veins as he gripped his water bottle. Looks like you caught him mid-workout. Oh, and you’re gawking like an idiot.

Nice going. 

“Are you deaf or something? Speak up already,” the stranger clicked his tongue impatiently, and you internally panicked. You wondered whether manifestation was real and if you could will for the stranger to just explode. Actually, make it the entire room. An embarrassed grimace appeared on your face as you realised you had the attention of a couple of people on you.

“Uh, no. No, I’m not deaf. Just looking around,” you began to explain, undoing the drawstrings of your hoodie once you realised how utterly stupid you must have looked. But then the stranger gave you a grimace of his own, lips quirking up as his eyes landed on your dishevelled hair. You looked like a mess. 

Way to go. Now you can’t show your face in public. And yes, it really was that deep.

And so you smoothened your hair out and plastered an overly enthusiastic grin on your face to compensate for the fact you couldn’t socialise. “Where do I sign up?”

He snorted, a sceptical brow raised as he checked out your incredibly outdated attire. “You want to sign up?” 

You nodded. Fuck, you weren’t even meant to say that. The urge to slap a hand over your forehead grew tenfold, but you fought it.

A shaky breath left you as you gave in to that little voice reminding you that no, you didn’t fit into those jeans you’ve had your eyes on for a while. No, your mom hadn’t stopped making comments about your body and lack of love life. 

“...Yes, please,” you said after a beat of silence, and that was that. Sukuna, who was apparently a trainer, led you through the whole process. Sign this, read that, fork over some of your wage. You know, the typical procedure. The new you was coming very soon, you told yourself after internally crying over the money spent. You’ll buy those jeans in no time.

═══════★

“Sloppy fuckin’ form, girl. Sharpen up,” Sukuna barked, circling around you like a goddamn hawk. 

Oh, you swore you were going to quit that gym soon. He had been riding your ass for the past couple of weeks, pushing you further than you’ve ever pushed yourself. Sukuna called you out on your bullshit that first day when you tried hiding in the corner with your phone out, coaxing you onto a mat and making you stretch. Since then, Sukuna kept an eye on you, making sure you were red-faced by the end of the workout. 

A sharp click of his tongue brought you back from your thoughts. You groaned, raising your hips from the floor and spreading out your limbs. You were currently doing a plank, which appeared to be dissatisfactory in Sukuna’s eyes. 

“I’m doing it, I’m doing it,” you hissed, head tilting up as best as you could so that you may glare at your tormentor. A scoff left his lips.

“Yeah, you’re as intimidating as fuckin’ pebble right now. Head down.”

Your head dropped reluctantly. The quiet grunt you accidentally let out didn’t escape the trainer, but he wasn’t about to soften up. Neither were you out of sheer stubbornness. 

However, the burn in your thighs and arms became more noticeable. An ‘oof’ sound left your lips as your jellied arms buckled and you face-planted the floor. Another tut and more chuckles from the other members scattered in the gym. 

“Take five,” Sukuna couldn’t help but roll his eyes at you. 

A dismissive noise left you as you remained face-down on the floor, Sukuna’s fading footsteps and mutters of annoyance filling your reddening ears. Your face burned. 

Swallow your pride and quit, the voice in your head mocked. 

But two weeks in? You couldn’t. Not when you had stupidly formed a grudge against Sukuna for pushing you so hard too early on. You shook your head and got back into form, lower lip jutting out in sheer determination. You were completely unaware of the approving nod from the other end of the room.

═══════★

Walking was simply out of the question today. You threw the covers off and gritted your teeth at the way your legs throbbed with each shift of your body. 

It had been maybe five sessions since you had face-planted the floor in front of Sukuna. It didn't look like he'd ease up any time soon after that incident. In fact, he grew meaner. That apparently made you like him more.

The mere thought of him made you shrivel up in bed and grimace, but you couldn’t fight the slight inkling of attraction you felt towards him, slight being an understatement.

It was bound to happen eventually, right? You'd be stupid not to be attracted to him. Each muscle looked like it had been carved right out of stone. Hell, now that you think about it, it was probably also those unamused looks he was throwing your way that made you keep going back to that cursed gym. 

You were there now after hyping yourself up in the mirror back home. Not for too long, though. One look at your chest flailing around was enough to make you curl your lip and shrug on that tacky pair of sweats and hoodie you liked to work out in. You skipped breakfast and settled on a shitty cereal bar you found in your kitchen. It wasn't the best thing to do, but you were set on losing weight. 

The air reeked, to be frank. It was the first thing you noticed after walking into the gym. Testosterone and sweat mixed with a strong hit of regret. Regardless, you pushed through and continued shuffling on your boneless legs. You set your bag down in some lonely corner and mentally prepared yourself for Sukuna to berate you about God knows what. It was something new every time you came here. 

“Told your stubborn ass to stretch after the workout,” he drawled once he sauntered over, an amused look on his face. “Just had to stomp out like a little brat, didn’t you?”

“That's not true. I just wanted to go home and shower,” you scoffed in response. But Sukuna didn’t reply. Instead, he raised a brow that screamed oh, really? You could feel the back of your neck prickle with an uncomfortable heat as he stared you down. 

And then he walked off. Asshole.

“So fucking weird. I mean, who does that?” you rambled to no one, getting in form and raising your arms over your head as you stretched. The slight sting of your muscles being used was actually rather welcome for once. 

═══ Later ═══

By the time you were done, you were warm and sweaty. Sukuna hadn’t spoken to you much today, too busy chewing out a new member of the gym. Poor dude, you thought. But at least it wasn't you. 

This gave you time to look in the mirror, a poor habit of yours. Your eyes cast over your body agonisingly slow as you checked for any changes in physique. Little bursts of cool air hit your flushed skin when you lifted your t-shirt with one hand slightly to inspect yourself, the other hand fanning your face. You then sighed, running a hand over your hip. 

“The fuck are you doing?” 

A garbled yelp left you as you dropped your top and looked at Sukuna from the mirror without turning around. His red eyes were trained at your hip, and he looked almost disappointed at the fact that your clothes had covered again. You whizzed around and stood there stiff. A pause, and then you were wondering why the hell your mouth was starting to run. 

“Nothin’. None of your business,” you chuckled nervously, hands clenching at your sides. “Just checking progress.” 

“Yeah, ‘cus that’s the only reason why you cop a feel of your own body after every session looking like a kicked puppy,” Sukuna’s eyes remained lidded, flicking between the mirror and you. 

“Oh, cmon. I look nothing like a kicked puppy-”

“Yeah, you do. Every single time.”

“You're watching me like some perv-”

“And what?”

You paused and inhaled deeply, a stupid smirk appearing on Sukuna's lips as you grew increasingly frustrated with him. ��Will you at least let me finish my sentence?”

“No can do. Wanna explain yourself?” He asked, beefy arms folding over his chest. You had to forcefully drag your eyes away from the slight jiggle of his pecs, your body reacting similarly to that of a Victorian male seeing an ankle for the first time. 

“Eyes up here. Talk to me,” Sukuna repeated, softer this time. Your hands fiddled with each other as you debated whether to open up to this hothead. It was likely that he'd a) make fun of you, or b) propose on the spot and fawn over how perfect you were (extremely unlikely, but a girl could dream).

Sukuna watched as your lips parted and the lie tumbled out of your mouth since it was easier than telling the truth.

“Just stretching.”

An unimpressed grunt rumbled in the man's chest. “Bullshit, but keep telling yourself that.”

“Tch. What else am I doing then?”

“Fuck knows, but quit it. That's not healthy,” a finger jabbed at your forehead, and you swatted his hand away without thinking. Your chest tightened slightly. Was that genuine concern?

Sukuna saw your reluctance to accept his words, making him shoot a deadpan look your way. “I'm being serious. Stop grabbing at yourself before I throw a dumbbell at the mirror,” he scolded, narrowed eyes boring into yours.

“I see you busting your ass every time you're here. You may not think I notice it, but I do. Trust me. Do you really think I’d push someone so hard if I didn’t see something in them?”

He was speaking to you like a trainer now, but you could hear some of his own personal feelings slip through the cracks. It made your throat feel tighter. 

“To be honest, I didn't think you'd see,” you mumbled, swallowing the lump in your throat and wiping your increasingly sweaty hands on your t-shirt.

“Well, I have. Now, stop touching your hips like that. They're fine,” he scolded. Sukuna didn't even wait for a reply as he walked off, probably to slap the back of someone's head again.

For the first time that day, your body felt less heavy. 

And you could confidently meet your eyes in the mirror again. 

═══════★

With your eyes fluttering shut, you shifted and lay on your back whilst reminiscing on Sukuna's words. Maybe it was your memory playing tricks on you, but you swore his eyes lingered on your body in an appreciative way. Maybe he saw more in you than you had ever seen in yourself. But realistically, maybe you were that attention deprived that you were making up scenarios to feel special. 

An exasperated groan left you as you rubbed your face in your hands, heat creeping up onto your cheeks yet again. Honestly? You couldn't remember the last time you felt so whipped over someone before. It had been just under a month since you joined that gym, and Sukuna was already plaguing your every thought. 

It's not like Sukuna was your teacher or anything. You were both legal adults. Yeah, maybe you were just some stubborn brat who frequented his gym. But that didn't mean you couldn't feel anything for him. 

But why did you feel guilty? Was it the way he was so uncaring yet so observant at the same time that made you feel this way? Or was it the fact that you saw yourself as unworthy of this arousal?

Regardless, you could feel your cunt beginning to ache. You tried relieving it by squeezing your thighs together, but it was useless. The muscles in your body still felt tight, and the effects of the gym lingered. God, why couldn’t you escape him?

Slick noises filled the bedroom not long after you began questioning your whole dynamic with Sukuna. Yes, it was deeply embarrassing and you’ll surely regret it later. But right now, the sensation of your fingers rubbing tight circles over your clit was too pleasurable to ignore. 

With each ashamed jerk of your hips as you lay there, the plush skin of your thighs shook as you raised it slightly and bent your knee. Even though you lived alone and no one was around to hear you, you bit into your fist to conceal the plethora of needy mewls and gasps falling from your lips. The towel had come undone, exposing the curves of your writhing body. The cool air contrasted deliciously with the wet heat between your parted legs. Now that your breasts were free, the hand at your mouth moved lower so that you lazily brush a couple fingers over a hardened nipple. 

But the moment you did that, existential dread crept over you and you withdrew your hand. Self-consciousness hit you like a ton of bricks and you sat up abruptly, face burning at the fact that you were getting off at the thought of some musclehead at the gym. Your eyes fluttered down, unfocused and blurry from denying yourself of an orgasm. You guessed it was time for another shower. Maybe that’d wash the shame off of you. 

═══════★

After a few days of ignoring the urge to go to the gym, you gave in and dragged yourself out of your home. There’s no way you could look at Sukuna in the eye now. That was one of the many thoughts whizzing round your head as you kept your eyes low and headed to your usual corner of the gym. You could smell the lecture coming from the pink-haired man from a mile away, and boy, you were right. 

You were barely done with your first warmup set when you heard his gruff voice cut through the blaring music. He was not amused. 

“You suuure took your sweet time coming back, Sick of working out already?”

And that’s when you froze. Your heart quite literally dropped to your ass once you managed to stand up straight, but your eyes remained on the mat below you both. 

“Was busy, that’s all,” which was a bold lie. He could tell.

“Hm,” Sukuna began. “Looks like you were too busy to even do your stretches properly.”

A thick set of fingers met your back, the digits pressing into your spine so that your posture was correct. An awkward noise left your lips at the contact.

“Straighten up. At this rate, you won’t even be able to workout because of body pains.”

But that was the least of your problems. Fantasies of his hands coaxing your thighs open and his tongue doing unspeakable things to you filled your mind, causing you to move back sharply. You cleared your throat, noticing again the displeased look on Sukuna’s face.

“I didn’t think you’d care if I turned up or not,” you admitted sheepishly, a bold assumption on your end.

A low, hum of laughter rumbled in his chest, which quite frankly did nothing to soothe the steady pulsing between your thighs. “Oh, I don’t. I just don’t want to be losing out on money through your absence.”

Ouch. 

Your head turned, and he saw the mildly offended look on your face. His words were just enough to make you forget about the heat of his body as he walked around slowly to stand in front of you. 

“I’m kidding, i'm kidding. Mostly," he borderline purred. "Is everything okay, though? You’ve been ignoring me more than you usually do,” Sukuna cocked his head to the side, and you wondered how he could sound both amused and irritated at the same time.

A short huff left your lips, almost sounding amused. If only he knew why you had been avoiding him.

“Nah, everything’s good. Just working out, y’know. Like a normal person would.”

Sukuna’s lip quirked up again, a stupidly attractive habit he had when he felt playful. “Riiiight. If that’s the case, stop lookin’ at me like I’ve fucked your life up or something.”

Your brows furrowed as you struggled to keep your eyes on him. The fuck did he know?! But that frantic look on your face didn’t stop him from running that mouth of his. 

“Oh, but who knows? I might have already. And in that case?” he let his voice drop down a couple of notches, leaning forward until you could practically taste his aftershave on your tongue. “You’re welcome, I guess.” He let his eyes drift down, pausing at your lips, and then down to the swell of your breasts through your t-shirt. 

Were you meant to ask him to look for longer, or slap him?

Once the realisation that maybe, just maybe Sukuna was attracted to you settled in your stomach like a heavy weight, he pulled back and walked away slowly, eyes on you until the last possible moment. You blinked once, then twice. 

You were dumbfounded, but also aroused. What the hell was going on with you both?

═══════★

Sukuna’s private office was…something. Low hanging fluorescent lights flickered periodically as he sat there in the busted chair, sun already having set outside. The occasional clang of metal reverberated around the gym outside of the private wall, and the air inside was heavy with dust, sweat, and intense longing. 

Sukuna’s eyes were screwed shut, unable to physically eat the half-chewed apple on his desk. His cock was aching in his sweats. It’s only been under a week since you came back to the gym, and he’s losing it. He’d be lying if he said you had caught his eye immediately. Sukuna remembers the day you came bumbling in like an idiot into his gym all wide-eyed like you’ve never seen a man before. 

But how wrong he was. You had a mouth on you under all that awkwardness. But most importantly, you were so reactive. He doesn’t know why he liked it so much, but seeing you stiffen up at his touches, push out your lower lip when he pissed you off… It really set him off. Not to mention the noises, God. Your soft pants after a workout, your low groans as you stretched those legs of yours.

Honestly? Sukuna didn’t understand why on earth you were so insecure. He had the urge to drag you away from the mirror every time he saw that disappointed look on your face after each workout session. He could spend ages running his hands across every soft inch of your body to show you that you were fine. There was no need for you to push yourself so hard. 

The mental imagery of burying his face deep into your pussy pained him. It was embarrassing, really, the way he was always ogling at you bent over the dumbbell racks or watching your throat bob with every gulp of water. Sukuna rubbed his face with his hands, groaning and manspreading further in his seat as his cock practically weeped to be freed. He could feel the front of his boxers dampen with his precum, which he had been trying to ignore for a while now. But it was useless. Sukuna may have felt like a hormonal idiot for freeing his length from the confinements of his sweatpants, but he saw no use in denying himself the pleasure of fantasising you on top of him. 

It wasn’t long before Sukuna had a large hand nestled deep in his pants, wrapped around his throbbing cock. He couldn’t be bothered taking it out, and something about ruining his clothes to the thought of you made it all the more thrilling. When he shut his eyes, he could see the full outline of your body underneath your clothes, the way the outline of your sports bra was visible due to sweat after vigorously exercising. 

His cock twitched in his hand and he finally began pumping his hand lazily. Sukuna could imagine you walking in on him, the frazzled look you’d shoot his way. He wanted you to see him like this, but unfortunately for him, you had gone home. 

“Fuckin’ hell, you’ve done it now. Messed me up all good and p-proper, huh?” His hand continued to move, wrist rolling expertly. Almost as if he was used to jerking off to the thought of you. Sukuna’s head tipped back as he pictured you on your knees, lips glossy with his cum and body eager to please him. Oh, you'd look so pretty with your tits pressed together as you sat their obediently.

The chair creaked once he started rutting into his hand frantically. His hips jerked once, then again as his orgasm hit him. It hit him hard. It was messy and the waves of shame hit him at the same time ropes of thick cum coated his fingers and the insides of his sweats. 

Uneven pants filled that small office, and Sukuna finally withdrew his fingers and wiped them clean with a nearby rag he kept nearby. He could feel his heart hammering in his throat, and he actively avoided looking down at the mess he made inside of his sweats. 

Maybe Sukuna felt ashamed. He definitely should have. But there was no way in hell Sukuna would ever stop thinking about you. 

═══════★

You should have gone home and showered there like you usually did. But the tension between you and Sukuna exactly two days later had you on edge. You weren’t thinking straight, water bottle empty and chest heaving from overexertion. Your aching feet dragged to the gym showers instead, where you stripped after setting up all of your belongings. That berry-scented body wash just screaming your name. 

Sukuna however, came with other plans. He was thanking the stars that the gym was mostly empty, and there was little to no chance of anyone walking in. Plot armour, one may call it. 

You were in the middle of washing your body, washcloth scrubbing at your chest and getting them all soapy. How odd Sukuna was acting today, you muttered to yourself, recalling how his stare never left you and how his jaw remained tightly clenched. You were almost afraid he’d break a tooth.

The obnoxious creak of the shower-room doors brought you out of your daydreams, and you were glad the curtains concealed you from the eyes of whoever had just walked in. You were thinking to yourself that gosh, they really should oil up the hinges, but the curtains opened. Your eyes landed on a very pent-up Sukuna, whose eyes were shamelessly ogling at your nude body. You merely blinked at him, brain trying to catch up with what was going on.

“So, hey! One person per shower!?” you practically shrieked, backing up when Sukuna entered the shower and shut the curtain behind him. He’s soaking in the sight, clothes becoming drenched as the hot water beat down on both of you. Sukuna’is breath met the steam as he exhaled heavily, finally forcing himself to speak. 

“Gonna tell me to fuck off any time soon? Say something, pretty girl,” he cooed raspily, head cocked slightly to the side as he hunched over you. You could only stare back up at him, blinking away the spray of water. But the way your pussy clenched around nothing told you all you needed to know. You were positive you wanted him, so you gave him a nod. 

That was enough of an invitation for Sukuna to capture your bottom lip with his teeth, sucking it lightly into his mouth as he initiated a kiss under the spraying showerhead. You wanted to kiss back, but everything about Sukuna screamed urgency. You could barely register the fact that he was nipping at your neck, sucking a nipple into his mouth as his greedy hands pawed at every inch of skin you had to offer. 

“R-ryo, please wait-”

“No waiting. Don’t you dare tell me to wait,” he gritted out, sinking onto the tiles and using his hands to maneuver you around so that your rear was in his face. You winced at the sensation of the cold tiles your breasts were pressed up against, but you had no time to complain about it when Sukuna used both hands to spread the supple fat of your ass apart. A sharp gasp ripped out of your throat and your head whipped behind you to check.

“What exactly do you think you’re doin-”

He doesn't allow you to finish your sentence. The fiend angled his head, flattened his tongue and licked a fat stripe from your pussy to ass. You shrieked, hands flailing as you tried to grip the tiles unsuccessfully. A sharp swat to your ass served as a reminder to keep quiet, so you slapped a hand over your kiss-bitten lips. Sukuna took this as a chance to grab one of your calves and lifted it to the side, allowing him to groan deeply at the way your pussy spread so nicely for him. The fact that he could do so with such ease had you positively shaking. 

Your foot slipped ever so slightly on the wet tiles, but Sukuna was there to grip you even tighter, digging his fingers into the ample layer of fat over your hip to steady you. He dove back in, mouth hot on the entirety of your cunt as he ate you out like a man possessed. A garbled cry left your lips as you let your hand leave the tile. Sukuna was beyond pleased when you twisted his short hair into your fist and tugged, beginning to practically ride his face. 

“Fucking starving today, y’know?” he huffed in between filthy slurps. “Acting all shy for what, when your body is this fuckin’ slutty. Think I wouldn’t notice, huh?”

He went on and on, pausing to languidly roll his thick tongue over your pulsing clit. Sukuna sucked it into his mouth, nose buried between the crevice of your ass. You couldn’t respond, rendered to stupidity as ragged breaths left your lungs. The only time the man under you pulled away was to spit directly onto your pussy before diving back in. 

“P-pull away, gah, pull away, Ryo. M’gonna-,” you whined before being rudely cut off. Sukuna chokes on a curse at the nickname you have for him, and he wraps his arms around your waist. You’re sitting on his face, spasming with a cry as he begins shaking his head to the best of his ability. He’s a certified munch for a reason, devouring you from the back as you release all over his face with a strangled cry. 

You wiped the water from your face and slumped against the tiles. A kiss was planted against your ass, and then another. 

“Fucking hell. Should have done this sooner. Much sooner,” he muttered as he eventually rose to his feet. Sukuna’s knees ached, but it was worth it. “Pussy tastes sweeter than anything I’ve ever had.”

You managed to focus your eyes on him, face undeniably flushed as you pushed yourself away from the tiles. It did something to you to see Sukuna so pussydrunk and hard in his boxers. Somewhere along the way, he had tossed his shorts aside, which was perfect. His erection was straining against the fabric, and you took that as an invitation to sling an arm over his bulky shoulder. Your other hand slid down his torso, dipping in every curve of muscle it could find. You left his pecs alone, deciding to squeeze them another day. 

“Oh, oh. You want this as much as I do?” he teased before stopping himself from speaking anymore once he saw the look in your hazy eyes. You didn’t want sex. Not today, at least. So you settled on timidly freeing his length from his underwear and brushing your thumb over the flushed tip. The larger man almost moaned aloud when you rested your forehead against his chest and looked down, a soft noise of awe escaping your mouth at how deliciously thick his cock was. All thoughts of covering the stretchmarks on your hips, the thickness of your thighs, all of it… they were long forgotten at that moment. You started stroking his length almost lovingly, and you heard the slight crack in his usually confident voice.

“Hahhh, s-shit. Got a reaaal sweet pair of hands on you, don’t you, pretty girl?” he simpered, raising your head with a hand and affectionately resting his warm forehead against yours. The way Sukuna praised you had you doubling your efforts, wrist twisting as you pumped him earnestly. 

The water kept running, but Sukuna could worry about the bill another day. A chorus of guttural growls left him, strokes growing increasingly slick with his precum. The periodic twitches spurred you on, your eyes lighting up the closer he came to orgasm. Your gaze broke away when Sukuna’s lips pressed against your temple in a feverish manner, aaall the way down until he could claim your lips once more. The slight musky taste of your own slick graced your mouth. You should’ve pulled away, but you enjoyed the way his saliva mixed with yours.

“W-woah, there. Steady, fuck. I’m about to cum-”

One last flick of the wrist and a sweet peck on the cheek was all Sukuna needed to cum all over your fingers with a final grunt of your name. His release was warm, ropes of it shooting up to his abs. The urge to pop your fingers into your mouth grew, but the water washed it away. Neither of you spoke for a minute, trying to gather your wits about the change in dynamic between you. The steam continued to swirl around you both, providing a more intimate cocoon for you to relax in.

“Let me wash you up, yeah? Can’t be going home half-cleaned,” Sukuna murmured after pulling back from your face, trying as gently as he could to wipe the sodden strands of hair off of your face. He’s made a mess of you, but you were a gorgeous mess. One he’d happily devour a million times over. 

“Ah, well. That’s your fault, no? I suppose you should be the one taking responsibility,” you laughed weakly, mild exhaustion setting in. The orgasm combined with the heat of the shower was getting unbearable, and you wanted to leave. Sukuna picked up on this, making quick work of cleaning you both up. 

“Is that so, hm? Let me take you out then. Properly,” he said, followed by a nip at your ear. Large hands rubbed at your skin, thumbing at the curve of your waist. A swat of your hand landed on his chest, but Sukuna didn’t pull away. Oh, he was deathly serious. 

“...Yes, please.”

divider creds - @cursed-carmine

[maskedbyghost]

With possessive reader what is it gonna be like when she’s decided it time Simon proposes? Like is she a this is the ring you buy me girl or is she a it’s a shame I don’t have a ring to show off to the bitches who dare to flirt with you girl?

I love your series so much! ❤️❤️❤️

I think possessive!reader is absolutely the “it’s a shame I don’t have a ring to flash at the girls eye-fucking you from across the room” kind of girl.

You’re not shy about it. You’re not coy. You don’t drop sweet little hints about marriage—you make it a goddamn territorial threat.

You don’t care about the wedding, you don’t care about the diamond, you just care about making it publicly known that Simon Riley belongs to you and no one else.

Something permanent. Something no one can argue with. You don’t want a pretty proposal under the stars; you just want a visible warning label on your man.

You’re out one night with him and a few of the guys, tucked into his side with your drink in hand, and you’ve already noticed the two girls sitting at the next table who won’t stop glancing over. They’re not even trying to be subtle about it—giggling, whispering, giving him looks that make your blood boil. Simon hasn’t noticed. He’s relaxed, laughing with Johnny, focused on his beer, and not paying attention. But you are. Of course you are.

You don’t even bother whispering when you say, “Y’know, if I had a ring on my finger, bitches might stop thinking they’ve got a shot.”

Simon turns and just stares at you. His mouth opens, then closes again, like he’s trying to figure out whether to be offended or terrified. You just keep sipping your drink, resting your hand on his thigh like nothing happened.

“Not asking,” you add. “Just saying. Might be smart to lock it down before someone gets hurt.”

Johnny chokes into his drink, but Simon doesn’t laugh. He just squints at you like you’ve grown horns, making you smile sweetly.

Later, back home, you’re in bed scrolling through your phone, and he leans over your shoulder to see three tabs open—engagement rings, all wildly different styles. When he raises an eyebrow, you don’t even try to hide it.

“What?” you say. “Just wanted to see what those other girls won’t be getting.”

He groans, mutters something about you being a menace, and rolls over with his arm flung over his eyes. You toss your phone aside, climb over him, and sit on his chest until he looks at you.

“I’m not saying you need to propose tomorrow,” you say, tone way too casual. “But I am saying if another girl makes a joke about how available you seem, I will propose to myself with your credit card and then beat her with the receipt.”

He looks up at you with that stunned face, like he’s not sure if he should argue or marry you right there.

You lean in, press your forehead to his, and whisper, “Just think about it, yeah?”

And yeah. He will. Right after he survives being so deeply and dangerously wanted by someone who’s already one bad look away from proposing for him.

And the bitch actually proposes after a fight one day.

You were on the couch, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the TV that wasn’t even on, trying to look unbothered even though your heart was still thudding from everything you’d screamed at each other half an hour ago.

Then, out of nowhere, he stopped in front of you.

“You think I’m leaving?”

You blinked up at him, annoyed already. “Did I say that?”

“No. But you look like you’re waiting for it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

His hand went into his pocket. You almost laughed—because really, what now? Another excuse? A lighter for a stress smoke? A grenade?

But then he dropped something into your lap.

A ring.

You stared at it, your mind blank.

He didn’t kneel, didn’t soften. He looked exhausted and angry and—himself.

“You wanna throw shit at me for the rest of our lives? Fine. Say yes.”

You blinked again.

“I wanna fight with you and make up with you and argue about fucking curtains and then fuck you until the neighbors call the cops. Got it?” His voice cracked a little. “So say yes. Because I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

You picked up the ring and slipped it on like it was always meant to be there.

And then, without even looking at him, you muttered, “I was gonna carve my initials into your chest tonight but I guess this works.”

He sat down next to you with a groan and covered his face. “Fuckin’ psycho.”

You leaned into him, proud. “Yours.”

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

fuck me i love them so much you guysss.... also, thank you for the request love <3333

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @xiisblogs

[motthe]

there's no death here | robert "bob" reynolds

ཐིཋྀ thunderbolts caught me with a bob-shaped hole in my heart.

warnings: spoilers from thunderbolts, super!reader, fem!reader, not sure if I'll make a bunch of parts or even finish this idea so be warned, gonna go ahead and say canon-divergent to save my ass bc im no marvel expert.

《masterlist》

You weren't built for battle—the powers you had were more defense based than anything—but you had been trained by the best of the best. The countless lessons left your survival skills above subpar, and maybe you could make use of your size and strangle a man twice it, but those things didn't make you a hero.

And being around so many of them for so long, it's disturbingly easy to start to feel useless.

“Born or cursed?”

You didn't remember who had asked it. You do remember you had been younger, that you'd been more or less adopted into the world of the Avengers without ever truly being thrown into it. Wanda and Natasha had been your everything, especially when it came to helping with your powers. Between the supernatural and the mental side, they had done wonders.

Sitting around and not making use of yourself would be spitting on their memory, so it wasn't long before you were dragged into government business. Reading minds was handy, but picking apart memories? Entering their psyche?

You were gold to detectives and last resort for men in black suits who would “talk” to criminals if you didn't.

The work had drained enough from you by the time Bucky showed up on your doorstep with a bottle of liquor and a favor.

“This isn't what I do,” you told him, looking over the files. “I'm not a therapist or a teacher. If Void is as powerful as you say it is—”

“It can be beaten,” he explained. “We've done it before. I just need you to help Bob block it out. You know how to do that.”

“With other people's thoughts,” you argued.

He shook his head. “You suppress memories. You put them into neat little boxes for your agent work.”

“You want me to make him forget something that dangerous?”

“I want you to show him he's not alone when it comes to this side of superpowers.” Bucky stood, a warm hand coming down on your shoulder and squeezing. “We've all been scattered. It's a shit team, the New Avengers, but it's something, kid.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, Bucky,” you sighed.

“I know. Wouldn't be asking you for your help if you were.”

The door shut to your apartment in farewell, but one visit from the Winter Soldier had too many opening at once. Flashes of earth's most mightiest heroes, of old friends, dead friends, missing ones.

Getting dragged back into that mess was asking for trouble.

Sipping on free alcohol, you flip through the packet of Robert “Bob” Reynolds. Sweet face, fucked past, and a far more fucked psyche for the powers he'd revealed in the last hit on New York.

Cursed, you decided by the end of your research, frowning as a picture slipped free. The New Avengers were definitely a ragtag group. Bucky was the only one you knew, Yelena you learned more than enough about through Nat digging around her head one time too many. Alexei Shostakov as well, but he was easy to pick apart at one glance. Anything revolving around Ava Starr and John Walker was rumors or passed down the grapevine.

Your phone vibrated. Checking it drew a deep line between your eyebrows. Someone was asking for another questioning, this time through the mind of a rampant serial killer in Chicago. They didn't have enough on him.

You leaned into your hands, sighing.

Across the block at a red-light, Bucky glanced at his phone and smiled as he read over the text.

“I need to meet him before I agree to this.”

The light flicked green.

The Watchtower was a shadow of the place you used to know. Repairs were still being made leaving people crawling on every floor but the top level had been finished for two weeks now, leaving the New Avengers with their shared space.

Bucky had promised the team would be out when you arrived, save for Bob. As it was quiet when the elevator door opened, you were glad to see he'd kept that promise.

“Welcome back,” he called, walking up.

“Which room did you snag?” you scoffed, eyeing the decor. Minimalist, neutral tones. Far greyer than the old room you remembered.

“The biggest.” He said it like it was obvious. Maybe it should've been.

Hearing movement, you both turned as a shadow passed by the windows. The hunched shoulders were a dead giveaway, soft eyes flittering between the floor and you as the young man stepped down.

Bob wore a dark blue sweater that drowned his figure and dark jeans. His hair was still a shaggy length and dark brown from the recent pictures you'd seen. By all accounts, he looked normal, but the anxiety flowed off him in waves that crashed against your head.

His mind extends way beyond others.

“Hi,” he greeted softly, clearing his throat. “You're, uh, Bucky's friend?”

You introduced yourself, stepping forward to offer your hand. He was quick to step back even across the room, body tensing.

“Wait, don't. I'm not sure if I—”

“When's the last time you transported someone into a shame room?”

The shock on his face had you glancing at Bucky for answers.

“Last week,” he said, crossing his arms. “Nothing super dangerous. Uncomfortable, but we get a lot of repeats so we break off easily enough.”

“Wait, so how much do you already know?” Bob asked, arms wrapping around himself.

“Enough,” you and Bucky respond.

Bob sighed, head nodding along as he turned away. “Great, guess that makes it easier.”

“I wouldn't say that; you're guarded now.” You moved closer, keeping your steps slow and your hands behind your back. Bob remained tense but didn't shy away. “Bucky called me here to see if I could help you, but I came here to see if you even want it.”

“Well, uh…” he swallowed, head bowing.

Do you want my help? His eyes flashed wide, breath catching as he looked up. You kept your expression neutral as you raised a brow. Do you? This will only work if you want to put in the effort.

“Can you see everything?”

You fought not to smile at the childish awe in his voice as it echoed back to you. I'm not looking. I'm listening.

A series of curses and panicked background commentary had you laughing.

I've heard and seen a lot. Honestly, don’t worry about it.

“That's easy for you to say,” Robert grumbled. “I cant control my thoughts like you can.”

“Would you like to?”

“It's not that I don't want your help,” he said, hands tangling into his sweater. “I just don't want to hurt anyone again. A lot of people… Some don't snap out of what I make them see. It's bad.”

“I have faith in my mental state,” you assured him. “Mental barriers, especially. I need to see just how powerful you are, though. Because if you get past mine, that means I'll be training you through trial and error. It's risky but it's not impossible.”

Bob looked to Bucky. “Do you think that's a good idea?”

Your old friend shrugged. “I brought her in because she's good at what she does. Whatever she wants to do, I have to trust it's the right decision.”

“I could hurt her!” Bob breathed and looked back to you. “I could hurt you really, really bad. Are you sure you know what you're signing up for?”

“I read through your files. I saw the extent of your powers and the aftermath of the accident,” you explained. “I'm prepared to help you with all things mental and psychic, but trust has to go both ways.”

You raised your hand again. He flinched, shuffling back.

“You want to help me now. What if that changes?” he whispers. “What if you see what it's really like and it scares you?”

“We won't know unless we try.” You took a step. Hand outstretched.

Bob looked at Bucky again, as if waiting to see if anyone would disagree. Whatever he searched for wasn't there.

He sighed and met your gaze. Pale blue eyes, you noted, with colors shifting around the pupil.

“Okay,” he nodded, holding up a shaky hand. The skin was bitten raw around his nails, skin dry but warm. The moment you felt it, there was a pressure against your mental shields. You could see the darkness clouding around you, searching for a way in, but you held firm.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, arm trembling as he stood there. His eyes were closed, head turned away.

You smiled, holding in a laugh as you used your other hand to grab his. “I'm fine, Bob. You're definitely powerful.”

“But you didn't see anything?” he said, eyeing where you were joined.

“I've had years to work on my mental barriers. You can't breach what doesn't have an entrance.” You squeezed his hand. “This is a really good sign. I'm going to have to let you in at some point to see just how potent your power is, but we'll work up to that.”

“You really don't see anything?” he whispered, hope rising in his expression as he searched your gaze.

“Just you,” you promised, unable to keep from smiling. “We'll have to work on your projection. Your thoughts are…loud.”

His face flushed red as he pulled away, sputtering an apology. There was some halfass excuse about the bathroom as he fled. Bucky stepped up to fill the empty space.

“What was he thinking?”

“None of your business,” you chuckled. “You got a guest room for me?”

But you had to admit you were flattered. Mens’ thoughts usually came up with the same descriptions for you at first glance. All your life you'd been met with disgusting thoughts and hateful opinions or plain “hot” and “sexy.”

This might've been the first time a man had ever thought of you as “radiant” before.

[rainydaygotham]

So, You’ve Decided to Put on the Red Hood Helmet: A Guide

You honestly don’t know what you were expecting. This was a stupid idea to begin with, so of course it went very wrong very fast.

You were all dolled up in that lingerie set that he likes. No special occasion, you just wanted to give him a little sexy surprise since he’s been so stressed lately. You’d love to give him the world, but right now all you can afford to give him is yourself, so that’ll have to do.

Now the mistake here was made when you walked out of the bedroom. Sure, the element of surprise would’ve been compromised if he came home and you called for him from the bed. Like, who wouldn’t immediately know that they were about to have some fun from that? He would get too cocky. But letting him walk into the living room just to be met with your near-nude body prepped and ready for him? That would catch Jason off guard and hopefully put a cute little flustered blush on his cheeks.

However, you really should’ve stayed in the bedroom. Because then you wouldn’t have seen the helmet sitting on the kitchen table, out in the open and tempting.

Jason was a real possessive guy. It was one of the things that made him so hot, his jealous devotion. So sue you for seeing his helmet and thinking he’ll love to see you wearing his gear. Just like how he loves it when you wear his shirt to bed or when he drapes his jacket over your shoulders when it’s cold.

You were so caught up in appealing to his possessive side, that you failed to take into consideration a not-even-unrelated side of the Red Hood. Which was definitely a side so prominent you really shouldn’t have missed it. His paranoia.

As soon as you lowered the iconic red helmet onto your head, an electric chime went off like it was a washing machine or something. You had no idea what that was about but you quickly forgot about it.

This thing smelled like a combination of Jason’s breath and his shampoo. You inhaled deeply in reverence. You missed him too much, despite it only being a workday since you’d last saw him.

It was weirdly heavy? You don’t know why you’d never considered that this piece of tech would be any heavier than a motorcycle helmet, but it made sense. You were looking at the world through a kind of UI at the moment.

You went and found the mirror to check yourself out. Feeling silly, you flexed your muscles in various poses pretending to be Jason. Gotta hand it to you, you made this helmet look pretty cute. Although wearing nothing but lingerie with it was bringing it into slutty halloween costume territory. ‘Sexy Red Mask Costume’, the package would say. See, no copyright infringement there.

Well, that’s enough for now, you thought. You should start on dinner and get it in the oven so it’ll be done by the time he’s finished fucking your brains out. You reached for the helmet to start pulling it off—

*BZZT*

IT FUCKING ZAPPED YOU.

You dropped it immediately, not giving it a chance to pick up the wattage from annoying warning shock to full on electrocuting you. Shit.

Shit, shit, shit. You forgot he and every other bat has a high tech suit that punishes people who try to take them off. Can’t have those precious identity revealed, can we?

You tried searching your brain for any information on how to deactivate Jason’s security measures but were drawing a blank. Whenever he took it off he just reached up and took it off, no fanfare. What was the secret???

Well. Looks like Sexy Red Mask is cooking dinner tonight. Better get that apron…

When Jason came home, he was completely prepared to get his bones jumped the minute he walked through the door. Sorry, but you weren’t subtle with your little ‘i miss you. when are you getting home?’ texts.

You were a horny little bitch, but you were his horny little bitch and you were so good to him that you’d never catch him complaining. He never thought he’d have someone, let alone someone so desiring of him. Your love was a relief.

So yeah, he was expecting the ‘sexy surprise’. Sorry baby but you’re not slick.

What he was not expecting, however, was a slutty pinup of his vigilante identity to be pouting on the couch.

His eyes took in your form. Man, he loved you. Even if your seduction technique needed work. He chuckled as he started shrugging off his leather jacket, and you turned to him,

“Welcome home!” you chirped your greeting, and then carefully tapped the helmet, which he found adorable, “can you please get this off of me? When I put it on, it locked, and now I can’t take it off without being tased.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, and you gotta give Jason credit, he was trying his best not to full on laugh, “it’ll do that,”

“Just help me, please. It’s really heavy,” you whined.

“Well..” he raked his eyes over your body once again, “would you be willing to wear it just a teensy bit longer?”

Seeing you in his helmet was making him feel some type of way.

You sighed, but no yeah, that’s why you put it on in the first place, wasn’t it? Damn you for knowing your boyfriend.

You crossed your arms, feigning annoyance, “I suppose you can fuck me in it first, yeah,” you giggled.

“Beautiful,” he purred as he started lazily undoing his belt, “You’re beautiful.”

[gojosatoruhumper]

Separated | Ahn Su-ho x reader

Summary: When Su-ho, Si-eun and Beom-seok don’t bring the money to Gil-su, he takes away someone important from Su-ho.

Warnings: Fighting, violence, swearing

WC:2.4K

Notes: based on this request

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You and Su-ho have known each other since the early days. Your parents would always bring you to the small Korean diner near your house ever since you were little and that's how you met him. Friday nights were always your favourite because you could see him.

Later on you would just casually stop by, offering to help but mostly just so you could spend time with Su-ho. He was a great guy, always lifting your mood cracking jokes and being protective over you.

You knew he worked hard so you would often invite him for dinner, your parents grew fond of him, telling him how he is always welcome in your household any time.

And well, an unexpected confession slipped past his lips one evening when you were together taking a late night walk. That day you made it official.

When Su-ho made new friends, Si-eun and Beom-seok, you were happy for him, always encouraging him to go hang out with them even if it meant less time together. He would of-course bring you along frequently, but you also didn't want to interfere.

But you also started worrying more. He got into fights more often, always brushing it off like it was nothing. He could see how concerned you were for him so he decided not to tell you about the trouble he got into with Gil-su's gang.

His favourite part of the day was when you would walk out of your school, chatting with your friends and the look of your face when you saw him never failed to put a smile to his face. He would press a kiss to your cheek, wrapping his firm hand on your shoulder and tell you all about his day, even the smallest details since he mostly slept through all classes.

You always felt so safe and secure with him, of course you could handle yourself, but with a man like Su-ho you felt protected. He made it clear to every guy who looked your way that you were in a relationship.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

After being tricked by Yeong-bin Su-was furious. He hated when people picked him and his friends as targets. WHen Beom-seok brought the 15 million won, both Si-eun and Su-ho refused to take it to Gil-su, they didn't own him shit.

All three of them were now walking out of school, spotting the gang they encountered earlier waiting for them. "Guys wait here, I'll go alone." Su-ho spoke up, shoving his hand in his pockets.

"Su-ho, are you sure? We can just give them the money and-" Beom-seok was cut off by him. "If something happens I will text you, call the cops if what, okay?" he said, eyeing the car parked upfront.

Si-eun just stood there, staring at him. "What? You don't trust me?" Su-ho nudged Si-eun, throwing him a smile and walking away from the two.

"Hey, kid" Gil-su spoke up with a smile, all his minions just standing beside him. "Did you lose the other two" the man laughed. "Oh shut up" Su-ho whined, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Okay okay, give it to me" Gil-su demanded, the smirk still plastered over his face. "Listen shithead, leave me and my friends alone, we don't owe you anything" he explained,

eyebrows furred. The man across him just laughed, crooking his head sideways.

"Yeah?" "If you say so" he put a hand on Su-ho's shoulder, he gripped it, shoving it away.

"Keep your hands to yourself, asshole. Don't bother me or my friends ever again" Su-ho firmly said, without a stutter and turned back to his friends.

Gil-su looked back at the guys standing next to the car door. "Eh? This guy has quite the attitude" he trailed off "Get in the car and lets follow him." He smirked.

Walking back to Si-eun and Beom-seok, Su-ho had a gut feeling something bad is a bout to happen.

Pushing the feeling aside he smiled and threw a thumbs up at his classmates. "We're good now, lets go quick, I have to get Y/n" he said, throwing his arms around their shoulders.

"Huh? Did they let us go so easily" Beom-seok asked, genuinely surprised. "Yeah dude, wouldn't you be intimidated by a guy like me?" Su-ho replied. Si-eun stayed silent, even though he could sense he was lying.

Su-ho was complaining about how hungry he was all through out the walk to your school. They were a little late by now so they could clearly see you on the bench sitting alone, looking down at your phone.

When he noticed you, a wide grin immediately spread across his face. You looked up, happy to see him, waving at you like a kid. He stepped up, giving you a quick peck, now hand holding your shoulder instead of their friends.

"Hello" you smiled at his friends. "Hi" Beom-seok replied as well as Si-eun who murmured a quick 'hi.’

"Lets gooo, I'm so hungry I could eat one of you, you know" he whined, placing a hand on his stomach in annoyance, cracking a laugh from all three of you.

In the distance Gil-su was watching. "That one" he pointed at you, "get that girl and bring her to me"

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You were now all walking back from the diner Su-ho had picked, hands interlocked as Si-eun and Beom-seok was walking beside him. You came to a stop, needing to split up at this

point. You said your goodbyes to the two boys, "Goodluck at your cram school Si-eun" you waved at him as he said thank you, turning to go on his way.

You always liked Si-eun more than Beom-seok, because you could see how he sincerely looked out for Su-ho, always being there for him.

You and Su-ho started walking towards your house, your backpack with cute charms dangling on Su-ho's shoulder. "Ahh, you're so cute" he smiled at you, ruffling your hair with his hand, laughing when you got frustrated.

"I told you to stop doing that" you tried to fix your hair, turning your head to your boyfriend, "Does it look okay?" you asked, looking up. "More than okay" he smiled.

When you both came to a stop outside of your house you spoke up. "Are you sure you can't stay the night?" you asked, taking your backpack from him. "I wish I could Y/n but I have to work today" he hugged you pressing a kiss to your lips. "Text me when you're done" you smiled at him, entering your house and waving your hand at him.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

It was the next day, you were walking to school with your head down, feeling the sunrays hitting your head. You spotted a car slowing down next to you.

You had no time to react as two guys jumped out of it, one holding you as the other put a cloth over your nose and mouth.

You started screaming, but the chemical scent quickly took over, vision becoming blurry and eventually black.

You woke up with ringing on your ears, a migraine pulsing at your temples. "Ah the princess is awake" an old man laughed coming closer to you. You sat on the cold floor in a room, hands aching from them being tied together, as well as your legs.

You were scared. Really scared. All you wanted to do is cry, but you knew it would give the people in front of you satisfaction. From what you could make out, the man in front of you - the most.

"What's your name?" he asked, crouching down. You just stared at him, eyebrows furred. You didn't know if it was from anger or confusion. "Hey, bitch I asked you a question" he got angry, hitting your head. You stayed silent.

He stood up, laughing. "This whore." he turned to you again, getting angry. "You don't wanna talk?" A hard kick landed on your ribs. And another one after that. Now you couldn't hold the tears in, whining in pain as you were now laying on the ground, kick after kick landing on you.

He stood up, laughing. "This whore." he turned to you again, getting angry. "You don't wanna talk?" A hard kick landed on your ribs. And another one after that. Now you couldn't hold the tears in, whining in pain as you were now laying on the ground, kick after kick landing on you.

He grabbed your head by your hair, crouching next to your face. "What would you friend Su-ho would think of this, huh? Being rude to your elders" He asked, now gripping your hair tighter than before. The name hitting home deep in your heart.

"Su-ho.?" you raised your eyebrows, salty tears falling down your cheeks. "Yeah. Su-ho" he tsked.

"That arrogant shithead" he murmured. Now you were getting angry. "Look at yourself, you look like a dickhead who should've been in a retirement home long ago" you snapped.

He was furious by now. His fist met with your nose, blood spilling out almost immediately. The metallic taste lingered in your mouth, mixing with the saltiness. "You bitch" he started punching your face, now bruises and cuts forming.

"Let's see what he would think of this" he stood up, proud of his work. You could see a phone in his hand, "smile." he snapped a pic, lighting up a cigarette. You looked around the room, glaring at all the guys in the room, staring at you. "Let's go for now" he turned to them, walking out.

As the door slammed shut, you fell to the ground again, the pain taking over. Your ribs were aching, face throbbing, legs and arms already bruising. You could barely breathe.

Gil-su sat on the sofa, laughing as he typed in the message. 'Sure you don't have the money?' 'Such a waste of a pretty face' he attached the photo of you with the address, clothes dirty, bloody face as it dripped onto your school uniform. Your face was twisted in pain.

Su-ho was now walking with his two friends as he felt his phone. His face dropped when he read the messages. "Is everything okay, Su-ho?" Si-eun asked, scanning his face. "I- I have to go" he said, burring out his words. "Where-" the boy was cut off

"I really need to go, don't worry about me" he said, now running.

He was now enraged, getting there quickly as he could. The door flung open as he banged it. ""What the fuck did you do?" he screamed, not sure at who.

His eyes landed on Gil-su as he started lunging at him. "Woah there" he smiled.

"Guys take care of him" he nudged the gang, as they stepped closer to him. "When you're done, tie him next to the cunt" he said, pulling a cigarette pack from his pocket. The words sent Su-ho to insanity.

"Don't fucking call her that" He punched one of the guys who was lunging at him, knocking him out instantly. There were 7 guys including Gil-su surrounding him.

His fighting skills were coming really in handy. He landed a kick on one guy, in the process punching another. He was surprised by a sudden punch to his nose as he stumbled back. "Boss this guy is pretty tough" Su-ho panted, looking up. "Only 'pretty tough'?" "I guess I'm doing something wrong" he lunged back at them again, 3 guys lying on the tiles bruised up and 3 out of breath, standing as Gil-su just watched the scene unfold.

He failed to notice Yeong-i coming through the doors, tired from the errands she was forced to do.

She was caught by surprised as she saw all the guys in action, seeing you behind the door which was slightly open.

She knew Gil-su had planned to capture some girl, but she certainly didn't expect it to be you. Yeong-i didn't want to interfere with the fight, so she quickly hid behind the door, pulling out her phone and texting Si-eun.

“Come here quickly!! They got Y/n, Su-ho is in trouble” she typed in, pressing send and attaching the address.

Si-eun opened the message right away, truth to be told is he was already searching for Su-ho, interrogating Yeong-bin.

He wasted no time, running to the address he was given. He got there quicker than the cops, shoving past Yeong-i and seeing 6 guys whining and passed out, Su-ho being choked by Gil-su.

Si-eun pulled out his pen, stabbing Gil-su in the shoulder. He let go of Su-ho, clutching the pen in pain. Si-eun could see the relief on the other’s face as he gasped for air. His hair was messed up, dried blood on his nose and lips.

“You fuckers” Gil-su gritted his teeth, swinging at Si-eun, who luckily dodged it. Su-ho quickly took action, landing a kick on the side of his head, as he now fell to the ground in pain.

“I take back what I said, you’re good.” He laughed once again, whining. “I said leave my friends alone” Su-ho got the last word in as he heard the police cars pulling up. Gil-su tried to run away through the door, being met with two police officers, guns pointing at him.

Si-eun raised his hand, pointing to the slightly opened door. “Y/n” he said, a little above a whisper as Su-ho already was barging through it. As he saw you, his heart ached. You were passed out, body swelling with bruises.

He ran up, untying you and tightly hugging you, gripping your uniform. “Y/n..” he said, voice muffled. Your eyes slowly opened as you looked at him, a slight smile on your face. “Thank you, for coming to me” you said, voice cracking.

He was mad at himself. “I’m sorry I came to late, you didn’t deserved this, I did” he looked at your body, inspecting for any internal damage.

“You’re here now, that’s what matters” you said as you felt him pick you up. Si-eun was looking at you both, a subtle smile on his face, he was happy for Su-ho, having such a caring person in his life.

Su-ho carried you over to the ambulance, police coming up to question him. “You can get my statement after she is taken care of” he said, caring only about you at the moment.

As the ambulance drove to the hospital, it was only you and Su-ho in it. “Y/n I will make sure all of them pay for what they did” he leaned down, kissing you as you laid in the somewhat of a bed, his hand in yours.

He brushed your hair with his fingers, as you slowly fell asleep. He stayed with you in the hospital the whole night, Si-eun, Beom-seok and Yeong-i coming in to check up on you both.

[alisonsfics]

what about me?

pairing: bucky barnes x ex-gf!ex-avenger!reader

summary: as an ex-avenger and the ex-girlfriend of james bucky barnes, you’re shocked when you see the new avengers announcement on tv. so, you decide to pay avengers towers a visit to reminisce, until you run into bucky. then you both realize you’ve been holding some grudges.

word count: 2k

warnings: ⚠️thunderbolts* spoilers⚠️ angst between you and bucky

You were having a peaceful start to your day. Or as peaceful as it could be. The past couple years had really messed you up. You’d basically lost everything. The Avengers. Your friends. Your boyfriend. Your home.

Nothing had felt the same since then.

You tried to start over. You weren’t exactly built for the real world. You had telekinetic abilities. Your father was a successful scientist, but after you were born, he became captivated by the idea of superheroes. Then, he started to experiment on you, accidentally giving you abilities.

When you became an Avenger, you learned to harness your powers. You also blossomed into a great fighter, training with both Steve and Natasha.

Your skill set was very specific. And it didn’t exactly suit a corporate life, or any kind of regular life.

A couple of months ago, you got a call from Sam, whom you hadn’t spoken to since Tony’s funeral. He said it was about Ross going out of control. You were happy to help, and for the first time in years, you felt like you were doing the right thing with your life.

But nothing had happened since then. You started hanging out with Sam more often, craving any tie back to your previous life.

That’s where you were right now, out for lunch with Sam.

“So, is our new President showing any possibility of turning into a raging Hulk of a new color?” You joked, earning a chuckle from Sam. He quickly shook his head.

“Nope. All clear, but if it happens again, trust me, you’ll be the first one I call.” He told you. The thought of another president turning into a Hulk shouldn’t have comforted you, but it did. Because it meant having a purpose again.

“How have you been? You’ve seemed a little distracted since the whole Ross thing.” Sam asked, switching into counselor mode.

You laughed to yourself, thinking about the best response that would make Sam worry the least. “I don’t know, Sam. I feel like I’ve forgotten what being okay feels like.” You said, honestly.

“Just a professional opinion, maybe it’s cause I’m the only person you talk to. You can’t isolate yourself.” He mentioned. You switched your gaze to the ground. Of course you knew he was right. It wasn’t the first time you’d thought about it.

But all your friends, your family, were scattered around the globe or dead. You were alone.

Before you could respond, you both heard commotion around you the patio of the restaurant. You could hear the sound of phones dinging all the way down the street. Hushed whispers grew louder.

You felt heads turn towards you and Sam.

“Sam, what’s happening?” You asked, quietly. He glanced down at his phone. “Oh, shit,” he mumbled under his breath, before flipping around the screen for you.

You immediately recognized Val, and then you noticed Bucky. He was bruised and bleeding and standing behind her. The headline scrolled across the bottom: “Welcome the New Avengers after NY Attack.”

People started to rush towards you both. As two ex-Avengers, everyone wanted to know why you both weren’t on this new Avengers group.

“C’mon,” Sam said, quickly standing up and rushing towards you. He tapped a button on his watch and his flight pack appeared on his back. He grabbed you, and you wrapped your arms around him.

Your feet lifted off the ground as Sam flew you both to a nearby rooftop. You stepped away from him as soon as your feet hit the concrete.

“You alright?” He asked, watching you begin to pace. The words “New Avengers” repeated over and over in your head. And the image of Bucky bruised.

Sam repeated your name, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I don’t understand. There was an attack? Why didn’t he call me? Or you? He could’ve been hurt. He’s like family to me, and he’s just moving on? Why do we all act like the Avengers didn’t happen? I mean, everyone is moving on, and I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know who I am if I’m not an Avenger. And I just— I need to go home, Sam. I really need to think.” You rambled.

Sam nodded, understanding where you were coming from. “Come on, I’ll bring you home.” He said.

You spent the next two weeks sitting in your apartment, basically wasting away. You’d always struggled to cope with change, but you felt yourself being tugged back to the good old days.

Then, one day it was different. You woke up and felt yourself being pulled out the front door. You didn’t know where you were going until you got there.

You stood on the cold street, looking up at the tall building: Avenger’s Tower. It had been your home for years, and now it was a building you hardly recognized.

You walked up towards the front gate. The security guard immediately recognized you and brought you inside. He gave you a security pass, so you could freely roam the building.

You took the elevator up to the top floors where most of the rooms were. It was a path you’d taken so many times before.

You stepped out of the elevator and were met by a million memories. Memories you hadn’t thought of in years came rushing back to you.

A loud metal door slammed shut, bringing you back to reality. You jumped and turned towards the noise.

Then, you saw him.

Bucky Barnes.

“Hi,” you stuttered. His eyes met yours. You saw his eyes soften and the weight lift off his shoulders. “What’re you doing here?” he asked, breathlessly.

“I don’t know. I think I just wanted to see you.” You admitted.

He walked towards you, closing the distance. “It’s nice to see you, really. I’ve been thinking about you recently.” He said, sincerely.

“It’s definitely not because you moved back into the place we used to live. Don’t think that would make you think of me at all.” You quipped, sarcastically. A soft smile spread across his face.

“It’s been too long.” He said, his voice only coming out at a whisper. He felt every memory of you come rushing back to him at once. He remembered movie nights with the rest of the team. And the first time he kissed you, after a mission. And sneaking out of training to be with you.

“Yeah, it’s been a couple years. Y’know, since the world almost ended and you dumped me a few months later.” You said, your tone coming out harsh.

You had really missed Bucky. But you were also mad at him because it was his fault that you’d had to miss him. He’d gone radio silent for years, and you lost your best friend.

Bucky wore a pained expression. “I’m sorry about the way I handled everything. I was in a really bad place with Steve leaving and everything.” He apologized.

“C’mon, Bucky. Of course I understood that, but what you didn’t understand was that my world was also turned upside down. So many of our friends died or left, but I thought I’d always be able to rely on you. I loved you so much, and you left me like it was nothing.” You argued.

Each word felt like a cut to Bucky’s heart. He’d never wanted to hurt you.

“It wasn’t nothing. Do you really think that wasn’t the hardest thing I ever had to do?” He shot back.

“Then why did you do it? Nobody forced you into that, Bucky. And if you regretted it, why haven’t you reached out to me since then?” You asked. Bucky was growing visibly frustrated. He ran his fingers through his hair. You noticed the way the light bounced off his metal arm.

“I can’t do this. I can’t have this conversation right now.” He huffed, turning away from you and starting to walk in the opposite direction.

Before your brain could even process it, you were yelling “Yeah, go run back to your new friends and leave me behind with all the problems of your past” at him.

He stood still before slowly turning back towards you. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“You’re talking about being sorry that you abandoned me before and now you’re doing it again.” You accused.

Bucky scoffed and shook his head. “Well, you should know a thing or two about abandoning people. I heard about you and Sam taking on the Red Hulk.” He snapped.

“What does that have to do with anything? I helped out a friend.” You said, defending yourself.

“Neither of you thought to call me to help, and you know I would have been there in a minute. And you didn’t exactly show up to help me when the Sentry almost destroyed all of New York.” He said, finally letting it out even though he promised himself he wouldn’t. He knew it was petty, but he couldn’t help that he’d been so affected by you helping out Sam and not him.

“I didn’t show up because I didn’t know it was happening. And you know how I found out? I found out while also learning that apparently there was a New Avengers team.” You argued.

“That wasn’t my idea, I swear. That was all Valentina. I was just as surprised as you were. But why do you care so much if I’m on a new team?” He asked you, and you realized how close you both were standing.

He was close enough that you could smell hints of cedar wood from his cologne. You focused your gaze on the floor to avoid looking him in the eyes. “Cause it means you’re moving on and leaving the Avengers in the past. And what about me? What if you decide to leave me in the past too?” You asked, softly.

His metal fingertips grazed your hip. His touch was soft and unsure, like he was waiting for you to pull away. When you stayed still, he used his other hand to pull your chin up, so you were looking at him.

“I actually asked the team if you could join because it wasn’t the same without you. I promise, I am not leaving you in the past.” He whispered.

He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. You leaned into his touch, and it was like he never left. His arm snaked around your waist, while your fingers found their natural place weaving through his hair.

The kiss was soft but also hungry. Bucky had missed having you in his arms, and he wasn’t going to let you go anytime soon. A warmth started in your chest and spread throughout your body.

Bucky's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer to him until there wasn’t any space between the two of you.

His lips explored yours, taking the time to refamiliarize himself with everything about you: the taste of your strawberry lip gloss, the way you smiled as he kissed you, and the way that your fingers tugged on his hair.

Bucky nipped at your bottom lip, smirking cockily when you lightly gasped. “I’ve missed you, sweets.” He mumbled against your lips.

You both jumped when you heard someone clear their throat down the hall.

“I see you’ve got a friend, Barnes.” The man scoffed, smirking at Bucky.

“Walker, this is my old friend—” Bucky started to introduce you to the man.

“I know exactly who that is and all about your friendship.” Walker responded, smirking and using air quotes around the word “friendship.”

“Now, who do we have here?” Another voice came from behind you. You and Bucky spun around, his arm wrapping around your waist until your back was pressed up against his chest.

A blonde woman with light blue eyeliner under her eyes stared back at you. She smirked at you and Bucky. “Well, we’d love to stay and chat, except we wouldn’t. So, we’ll see you guys later.” Bucky said, steering you towards the stairs.

“You’ll have to introduce me at some point.” You whispered in Bucky's ear.

“That’s a later problem, darling. We have some catching up to do.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

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[heartz-for-de]

Hi lovely! Would you be willing to do a little one shot for Bakugo, Kirishima, and Todoroki where their crush falls asleep on them? During a movie night or something idk 🙃

Hey sweets!!! Ofc I love this sm :)))

- MHA boys reacting to their crush falling asleep on them during a movie night -

REQUESTS- OPENNN!!

Kirishima -

•••••••••••••••••••••••

You had begged Kiri to train extra with you, and I mean he had no other choice but to say yes to such a pretty face like yours.

And now you were facing the consequences of your own actions, your head slightly falling to the side every few seconds as the movie played in the background. You had known about the movie night your friend group had planned, but you stupidly decided “why not push yourself a little harder? What harm could that cause?”

Kirishima sat next to you, his eyes focused intensely on the bright screen. His eyebrows were furrowed slightly and he rested one arm on the back of the couch behind you. You snapped your eyes back to your lap once you realized you were staring.

You let out a sigh as you finally realized you could do nothing else but succumb to the heavy weight that sleep was, finally resting your eyes permanently.

Kirishima stiffened for a moment as your head fell onto his shoulder, all of your weight being laid onto the right side of his body. ‘Holy shit—‘

He was tempted to put you in a more comfortable position, but he didn’t want to touch you and cross any boundaries. He just took in a deep breath and tried to relax, trying to ignore the fact that the prettiest girl he’d ever laid his eyes on was laying basically on him.

“Kiri, your face is as red as your hair. What the hell—“ sero began poking at Kirishima flustered state.

“Shh! Y/n is sleeping. She worked super duper hard today so she deserves the sleep.” Kirishima whispered yelled at the boy.

“Ou, or maybe you just dont want her to love from her—very close might I add— spot?” Mina teased with a giggle.

Kirishima glared at her, knowing she was absolutely correct.

“Pretty sure the movie is still playing, so maybe you should all focus on that and not on MY business.” He clapped back quickly.

Denki cackled which kiri aggressively shushed him for. Kiri then felt you move, his arm instinctively wrapping around you as you nuzzled into his chest. He felt his heart swell at you peaceful state. He could stay like this for eternity with you.

“You are so sassy—“ Mina was cut off by bakugo.

“Will you all shut the fuck up and watch the damn movie.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••

- Katsuki

•••••••••••••••••••••••

You were on a mission, a very serious and important mission. You had tried everything in your power but nothing had seemed to work yet, your end goal yet to be reached. What was that end goal you might ask? Getting katsuki to blush. He wasn’t slick by any means, his obvious affection towards you on full display even if he’d argue otherwise. You were almost sure, but how could you really prove he’d thought of you as more than a friend? Trying to fluster him. Sadly nothing had worked yet, so your plan was beginning to bum you out.

That was until you had wanted to hangout with bakugo—as friends of course— but he claimed he needed to study. So, you offered to just chill in his dorm while he got what he needed done. The two of you were close enough friends that it didn’t seem intimate at all to either of you—much to your dismay.

You sat perched on his bed in thought, how could you get this man crack? I mean you could only blatantly flirt so many times before he caught on. You let out a frustrated sigh.

“Fuck is wrong with you?” He asked without looking up from his work.

You shot a glare at the back of his messy blonde hair. “Nothing, jus’ tired.”

Suddenly you heard a ding go off in your head, what if you tried to cuddle with him? Very bold? Yes, but also very possible to work. You wore a sinister smile as you continued talking.

“Can you come do your work on the bed? I’m cold, and your body heat radiates.” You tried to sound nonchalant about the request.

“The hell?— I swear I told you that I had work,” he grumbled.

Gosh he was so stubborn “You did.”

“So then why the hell are you still bugging me? Go find a fuckin heater or something.” As much as you fancied Katsuki, he had a tendency to be quite unbearable.

“Please, kats? I won’t say another word for the rest of the day!” You begged. You needed this plan to work.

“Jesus…fuck, fine. But if I hear one word, I’m blasting a hole in the wall and sending you too Mina’s room.” You nearly jumped with joy at his defeat.

You moved over enough to where he had plenty of room to set his things down.

His pushed his back against the backboard, his legs sprawled out straight. You laid there for a moment, still trying to figure out just how to execute your devious plan.

You laid still for while, trying to convince Katsuki you were tired. You had to do it now. ‘No pussying out.’ You thought.

In one swift movement you shifter your head to lay on his lap and your body to curl up next to his. You felt his legs tense up.

“Oi.” He called out, not very loudly. You almost expected him to push you off of him, or maybe kick his leg up to shove you in the face. But as you waited you realized neither of those things was coming.

You did however feel a gentle hand come up to brush some of the hair out of you face. You almost screamed at the touch, realizing just how successful your plan was.

The room was quiet, the occasional deep breath infiltrating the calm atmosphere. You felt sleep actually washing over you, the heat and comfort of his body on your becoming too much for you to handle.

You suddenly heard a loud BOOM, the sound almost causing you to move from your comfortable spot on your bed.

“Bakubro! I need some notes—“

“ get the FUCK OUT shit head.” Katsuki screamed at the loud boy, his harsh voice startling you and causing you too move.

He sucked in a harsh breath, and glared at Kirishima. He then motioned his hand and mouthed to him. ‘Get the hell out.’

Once you had heard the door shut, you shifted you shifted slightly. Katsuki let out a shushing nose at the sound of your groan.

“M’ sorry. Jus’ shitty hair, you can go back to sleep.” He mumbled out quietly, caressing your head with his hands, he must’ve thought you were half asleep. You adorned a soft smile on your lips at the sound of his now calm breathing.

Mission accomplished.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

- Todoroki

•••••••••••••••••••••••

You and Todoroki had decided to study together, knowing about the important test coming up. The session consisted of shared small laughs and him being dumbfounded at your lack of basic knowledge, but he admired you nonetheless.

It had started to get late in the common room and everyone was slowly heading out, except the two of you. He continued explaining things, his smooth voice was softly swaying you towards sleep. You tried to regain focus, your eyes snapping open every once in a while, but eventually you could do nothing but lean against him and shut your eyes.

You hadn’t truly meant to lean against him, but as soon as you did you found comfort in his heated skin, the red in his hair reminding you what side you had came into contact with. You waited a moment before truly resting, to see if he’d toss you off or ask you to move, but nothing had came. Just the peaceful atmosphere of the empty common room and the two of you against eachother.

You felt Todoroki shift after awhile, his shoulder moving back slightly. You sat up straight, ready to apologize for making him uncomfortable, but he beat you to it.

“Oh, my apologies, l/n. I hadn’t meant to wake you.” He quickly responded to your sudden movements. You felt your face flush.

“What? No im sorry! I didn’t mean to fall asleep and make you uncomfortable in any way, it was so rude of me not to ask you first.” You tried to explain, but he gave you a strange look.

“Uncomfortable? No, I was trying to move so that you would be more comfortable. I quite enjoyed you laying against me.” He informed you.

You felt your face flush, his eyes meeting yours for an instance. He then went a little wide in the eyes.

“But if you didn’t enjoy it then I’m sorry, we can forget it happened if that would fix how you felt?” He asked you, and for the first time ever you saw Todoroki gain some color in his cheeks. His face showing nothing but embarrassment for a solid moment before switching back to his usual straight one.

“No—no I did. And I’m glad you did too.” You reassured him.

“Then perhaps we should do it more often, if you’d like?” He asked you, his eyes peering over to read your face.

You smiled big and gave him a nod, thus causing him to smile a bit.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

NOT PROOF READ UGH THIS TOOK FIVEEVER SORRYYYYYYYYYY

[rosiebbydoll]

The Right Time - Sukuna x Reader - Chp. 3

Chp. 2 - Chp. 3 - Chp. 4

summary: Your life was blissfully chaotic. Being a single mom and raising a daughter with a bigger attitude than yours was a challenge, but you love every second of it. You decided to move to the city to be closer to work. You’ve been at your new apartment for about three weeks now and everything has been great. Until, your annoyingly hot neighbor decided to open his mouth.

cw: female reader, modern au (no curses), 18+, enemies to friends to lovers, mechanic!sukuna x librarian!reader, slow burn, fluff, smut, crack, angst, toxicity, Sukuna is emotionally constipated, Nobora is readers daughter, Choso and Yuji are Sukuna’s nephews, Toji is a present father in this, LOTS of family fluff, manga spoilers? (more tags will be added)

wc: 10.2 k (I got carried away)

chp warning: Toji & Sukuna pov, fluff, tension, angst, crack, sexual content, toxic traits (from reader & Sukuna), mentions of violence, the kids being cute

a/n: time to meet the baby daddy and play uno! enjoy! <3

Saturday morning's hangover had been absolutely brutal - a fitting punishment for your late-night adventures. You'd woken up to find Toji passed out on your couch, his muscular frame sprawled awkwardly because he's too big for normal furniture. He was drooling all over your fancy throw pillows that you spent forever picking out. The sight would have been amusing if your head wasn't pounding like a bass drum. So, you just trudged slowly to the bathroom to search for medicine to ease the hangover away.

To add to the mess, you were still wearing Sukuna's shirt like some twisted walk-of-shame souvenir. The memory of that infuriating wink and the way his scent lingered on the fabric came rushing back with nauseating clarity. You were dreading the moment you would have to return it back to him. It was honestly more embarrassing he saw you completely wasted. Returning a shirt from a one night stand would have been nothing compared to the events of Friday night.

Toji didn't say much that morning. It didn’t feel like he was walking on eggshells or anything. He just knew you were truly upset and sometimes words don't solve shit. A simple "sorry" wouldn't fix anything, so instead, he'd been trying to make it up to you in his own way. Helping with errands, bringing you coffee, doing all the little things a best friend should.

It wasn’t like Toji had actually done anything wrong. The irritation came from somewhere messier—the fact that he was friends with the one person you decided to be your mortal enemy. Yeah, maybe that sounded dramatic, but in that exact moment, it felt like the entire world was conspiring against you. For the longest, it had been just you, Toji, and the kids against everything else, and that made it feel both comforting and isolating at the same time. When you spotted Toji walking up the stairs, something in your chest tightened, and for a brief second, despite all the noise around you, you felt utterly, painfully alone.

There was no need for words about what happened—none were said, and none were needed. Yet Toji understood deep down that your anger wasn’t real, not the kind that lasts. When you woke up and quietly made breakfast for the two of you, it spoke volumes more than any apology ever could. In moments like that, silence carried a weight no conversation ever could, filling the space between you with a quiet understanding.

That was four days ago.

Now it's Wednesday, and you're even more pissed at Toji than before. Poor guy landed himself in the same boat as Sukuna. This time around it's honestly your own fault- actually no, it's not. The motherfucker should have had his door closed. Basic office etiquette, really.

You'd left work early today to have Toji look at your car. The old Honda had been struggling to start most mornings, requiring a jump just to sputter to life. You'd been avoiding the inevitable repairs for months until Toji finally convinced you to let him take a look. After much hesitation, you'd agreed.

It’s not that you don’t trust Toji with your car—he’s reliable, and when he’s focused, he knows his stuff. But there’s a reason that man ended up a landlord and not a full-time mechanic. His “fix-it” methods sometimes feel more like experiments, and you’ve learned to brace yourself for whatever creative solution he’s about to try next. Still, when it comes down to it, you’d rather have his questionable skills than having to pay for it.

So, here you are on a beautiful Wednesday afternoon, heading to Toji's office at the apartment complex. You'd texted him four times already to confirm it was okay to come by, and he'd responded with his typical one-word answers.

He's always been a painfully dry texter - the kind who responds to paragraph-long messages with "k" - so you can never really gauge his mood through messages. But nothing could have prepared you for what you saw when you walked in without knocking.

Toji getting head from some random woman, right there in his office chair.

Now, you love Toji. Truly, he's like your brother and has been there through everything. But there was a shift after his wife passed, and he transformed into a total manwhore. It annoys you to no end, but what can you do? The man's grieving and coping however he can. He's also a single father, handling that responsibility as best he knows how. As his best friend, you reserve the right to get pissed off and make fun of him for his escapades.

Today you were already on edge, probably because of your car troubles. Though for the past week and half, you'd been blaming everything on Sukuna, that walking pain in your existence. So naturally, this was somehow his fault too. Maybe he put Toji up to it just to get under your skin.

Okay now I’m just being ridiculous.

As you stand there in shock, Toji immediately shoves the girl off and hurriedly tucks himself back into his pants. The woman looks stunned to see you standing there like some disapproving mother, while Toji just chuckles and shakes his head, completely unfazed.

Sukuna may have been wrong about many things concerning you, but he wasn't wrong about Toji and his women.

"Hey pretty, did ya come to join us-" You immediately raise your hand to shut him up and turn to the girl.

"You know he has a wife, right?" The words tumble out before you can stop them, and now you're committed to this lie. Toji stares at you like you've completely lost your mind.

The girl cocks her head to the side, confusion written across her features. "What?" She turns to look at Toji, who lets out a long-suffering groan.

Well, now you feel bad - kind of. This girl looks about your age, and Toji's only four years older than you, so it's not that inappropriate. But you did just bring up his wife - who is very much deceased. In your defense, the man had to have known you were coming. You'd texted him enough times to fill a novel. But now you look like the bad guy, yelling at this random ass woman.

God, I hate all men.

Toji pushes back from his chair, slipping an arm around the girl’s waist and starts guiding her toward the door. You, on the other hand, don't want to stick around to hear the inevitable lecture that’s about to come crashing down. Instead, you make a beeline for the exit, practically bolting as if the floor might swallow you whole if you linger any longer.

"Uhm, I'll talk to you later! You guys have fun!" you call out as Toji deadpans at your retreating form.

The girl looks up at him with raised eyebrows. "I thought you said your wife passed away?"

Toji lets out a low, soft hum, the kind that carries more weight than words. “She did.” Without missing a beat, the girl steps closer, giving him a gentle side hug and rubbing the tension from his back.

“And who was that?” she asks, her fingers now absentmindedly playing with the dark strands of his hair.

Toji chuckles, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. "My deranged sister."

The woman hums again, a casual, almost teasing sound, as her fingers absentmindedly play with Toji’s hair. It’s the kind of touch that’s more about passing time than comfort—light, easy, with no promises or weight behind it. Just a moment of distraction, nothing more.

Meanwhile, you're stomping up to your apartment, absolutely fuming. You're mad at yourself again, wondering why shit like this always happens. And why does Toji have to be such a whore-

BAM!

Lost in your internal rant, you slam right into what feels like a brick wall. As you wince in pain, you look up to see that shit-eating grin that's been haunting your dreams.

Oh. Not a wall - you ran straight into him.

"Shit, my bad," you mutter, backing away and picking up your tote that fell during the collision with this mountain of a man.

Sukuna's smirk widens, flashing those perfect teeth. "Damn, it's only noon. Already drinking, drunky?" He laughs and bends down to retrieve your phone from the floor.

"Don't call me that," you snap, digging through your tote for your keys. Your stomach drops when you realize they're missing.

"Fuck," you sigh, scanning the ground.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asks, with one eyebrow raised. You noticed that they both had slits, which was incredibly hot-

Focus.

"Lost my keys."

"Need help?"

You turn to him with the fakest smile you can muster. "No, I'm good, thank you though."

Sukuna rolls his eyes with a dramatic sigh and strides past you without a second glance. You catch yourself trailing behind him like a shadow.

He turns back before entering the parking garage. "Which one's yours?" he asks, nodding toward the sea of vehicles.

You point toward your silver Honda CR-V parked near the far end, its familiar dents and scratches standing out against the polished rows of newer cars. Sukuna’s gaze locks onto it, and without hesitation, he strides toward the car with that unmistakable air of someone who knows exactly what he’s doing. You huff under your breath, a mix of irritation and reluctant amusement bubbling up as you realize what he’s doing.

"I'm not an idiot. I wouldn't leave my keys in my car," you shout as he approaches the vehicle.

Sukuna waves off your protests like they’re background noise, leaning in to peer through the car window with a sharp scoff. “Ya sure about that, drunky?” he says, voice dripping with skepticism.

You roll your eyes but can’t help following him over to the car. He looms over you, his shadow stretching long as you both fix your eyes on the keys sitting there in the ignition, like some cruel joke. And, of course, the doors are locked tight.

You groan, pressing your forehead against the cold, unforgiving glass, the chill doing nothing to cool your rising frustration. “I’m going to scream,” you mutter, voice eerily calm despite the chaos of the moment. Sukuna just huffs, amusement flickering in his eyes.

Curious, you glance up to find him already pulling out his phone, fingers flying over the screen as he texts someone.

“My guy’s on his way to unlock the car for you,” Sukuna says like it’s no big deal, his tone casual as if this is just part of the daily routine. You tilt your head, suspicion creeping in. “Your guy?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Sukuna shrugs. “Yeah, one of my workers at the shop. He’s also a locksmith, so he can handle this kind of mess.”

You nod slowly, the pieces clicking together in your mind. So that’s the mechanic friend Toji mentioned too many times without actually saying his name. Suddenly, this whole situation feels a little less hopeless.

As you wait, a thick, awkward silence stretches between you, broken only when Sukuna finally turns to you with that trademark smirk. “Have you gotten that Gameboy fixed yet?” he asks, eyes glinting with mischief.

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden question, then let out a tired sigh. “No, haven’t had the time, honestly. I’m thinking I might just replace it instead of fixing it.”

Sukuna hums, tapping his fingers against his leg as if weighing the options. “I know a guy who could probably fix it, and it wouldn’t even cost much.”

You raise an eyebrow, a small giggle escaping. “Do you have a guy for everything?”

He can’t help but smirk at that, his laugh low and genuine, like a rare crack in his usual cool exterior. The silence that settles afterward isn’t uncomfortable—it’s different. Almost peaceful, like two people sharing a moment without needing to fill the space with noise.

The locksmith pulls up shortly in his battered truck, the engine settling into a low rumble as he hops out with practiced efficiency. Within minutes, he’s unpacked his tools beside your driver’s side door, moving with the kind of calm confidence born from doing this a thousand times before. Then, with a satisfying *click*, the door pops open.

Caught up in the relief and gratitude flooding through you, you do the last thing you expected—you sprint over and wrap your arms around Sukuna in a spontaneous hug.

“Thank you! I owe you—” The words catch in your throat as the reality of what you’re doing hits you mid-sentence.

Sukuna’s face goes unreadable, a mask hiding the chaos inside. His heart is pounding so hard he’s pretty sure it’s audible. You pull away quickly, cheeks burning, stammering apologies as you turn to thank the locksmith properly.

Sukuna leans against the car, watching you interact with the locksmith, fighting to steady his breath. That hug had knocked him off balance—so genuine, so warm, so unexpectedly... right. And now, of course, he’s pissed for feeling this way. Toji had made it clear not to mess with you.

The locksmith nods toward Sukuna, holding out a hand. Sukuna blinks out of his thoughts and steps forward. “Thanks, man,” he says, the dap quick but solid.

The locksmith climbs back into his truck and drives off and you're still burning with embarrassment but trying to act normal. "I really do mean I owe you one."

Sukuna’s smile is slow, knowing, and it twists your insides in the best and worst ways. “Don’t worry about it, drunky.”

Fuck.

Sukuna opens his mouth to say something else, but just then your phone blares an alarm—Nobara’s pick-up time. Your eyes snap wide as you glance at the clock.

“Shit!” you blurt, fumbling to unlock your car. “I’m supposed to pick up Nobara in fifteen minutes!”

“Fuck,” Sukuna mutters at the same time, pulling out his own phone. “I totally forgot about Choso and Yuji.”

You both share a quick, knowing look—the universal parent panic that hits when you realize you’re about to be late. Without a word, you jump into your car while Sukuna strides toward his Mustang parked a few spots away.

As you pull out of the lot, your eyes flick to the rearview mirror, catching his car turning the opposite way. Your mind drifts, the warmth of his chest during that hug lingering like a soft echo. It had been solid, grounding even, before reality slammed back in. And that smile he gave you afterward—different from his usual cocky smirk—something quieter, almost genuine.

Meanwhile, behind the wheel of his Mustang, Sukuna takes the back roads, trying not to dwell on how perfectly you fit against him in that brief hug. Or how your laugh actually sounded real this time, not the usual forced thing you do around him. His fingers drum against the steering wheel, annoyed at himself for noticing.

You both arrive at the preschool from opposite sides, parking in spots that feel deliberately far apart. Across the lot, he catches your eye and gives you a small nod—not his trademark cocky head tilt, but something softer, almost friendly.

You find yourself returning the nod with a slight wave before heading inside to grab Nobara. Something’s shifted between you two, though neither could say exactly what.

Maybe running into each other—literally—wasn’t the worst thing after all.

It’s been almost a month since you met Sukuna, and you’ve given up on trying to completely ignore him—mostly because it’s impossible with how often your kids spend time together (not because he makes your heart race every time you see him, of course). Nobara, Yuji, and Choso have become inseparable, their friendship blossoming with that effortless, instant connection only kids can pull off.

You and Sukuna at least nod at each other in the halls now. Sometimes the kids knock on each other’s doors, claiming they’re just being “neighborly”—though Choso always apologizes quietly for bothering you, his polite seriousness is a stark contrast to Sukuna.

Sukuna had slowly started to learn more about you. Yuji and Choso would talk about how you’re the “book fairy”. Nobora started bringing books over and to school to show them. They thought you were magical and Sukuna soon peaced together that you were the librarian friend Toji had talked about for years.

At school pickup, you watch Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi walking out together, hands linked, chatting about who knows what. Nobara’s always been a social butterfly, but seeing the usually reserved Megumi warming up to the crew is a small joy.

Of course, this new peace between your families means you’re forced to interact with their infuriatingly attractive uncle more than you’d like. The way Sukuna leans casually against the wall waiting for the kids, or how his eyes crinkle slightly when he actually smiles—not the usual smirk—at something the kids do, it’s getting harder to keep up your carefully crafted wall of annoyance.

Meanwhile, Toji’s been busier than ever. Some tenants moved out recently, so he’s been knee-deep in renovations, hustling to fix up the place. You’ve been helping when you can—picking up Megumi, running errands, juggling whatever needs doing.

Sukuna’s been pitching in too. When he’s not at his shops, he’s at Toji’s place, laying down new flooring or handling whatever handyman work needs doing. The trio of you working together has become the new normal, even if it sometimes makes your head spin.

None of you have really been able to hang out. Just catching glimpses of each other here and there—quick hellos in the hallway or passing nods during pickup. Hell, the kids get to see each other more than you do, their laughter and chatter filling the spaces where you and Sukuna barely find time to exchange more than a few words. It’s strange how your lives have intertwined through the kids, yet the grown-up connection still feels like a fragile thread stretched thin across busy days and competing schedules.

Work for you had been going great. The library feels unusually quiet—Ino’s out sick, dramatically claiming he has “definitely the plague,” though you’re pretty sure it’s just a stubborn cold.

You’ve spent most of the day setting up a brand-new “What’s Hot” section for readers, meticulously arranging everything from the latest spicy romance novel to that thriller everyone’s been buzzing about. The display is your pride and joy. You even made little handwritten recommendation cards, something that never fails to bring a smile from the regulars who stop by.

Between organizing the new section, you’ve sat through a handful of meetings about upcoming visits. The local elementary school is gearing up for their annual field trip—you’re already bracing yourself for the inevitable chaos and the senior center’s book club wants to reserve the conference room for their monthly gatherings. The day’s been busy but somehow flew by, maybe a little too fast.

You’re wrapping up around three, ready to head out. Nobara has art club until five today, so you figure there’s enough time to knock out some errands and sneak in a quick catch-up with her dad. It’s nothing heavy—just your usual monthly check-in to go over Nobara’s schedule and make sure you’re both on the same page. Between both of your packed workdays, once a month is about the only window you can carve out to sync up without juggling too many balls at once.

There’s no drama between you—just two adults trying to navigate the business of co-parenting with as much grace as possible. Today’s meeting follows the usual rhythm: reviewing Nobara’s upcoming activities and making sure nothing falls through the cracks. She’s buzzing with excitement about starting jujitsu, which has you freaking out more than you’d like to admit. On top of that, she’s just signed up for the art club and of course, summer camp is right around the corner, adding another layer to the carefully balanced schedule you both work hard to manage.

Every day, you silently thank the universe that her father is such a wonderful person. It’s almost annoying how wonderful he is. But you’re beyond grateful. Without him, you’d be lost. What you don’t realize is he feels the same way about you, and that thought lingers quietly between both of you, unspoken but deeply understood.

Now you’re finally stepping out of the library, already tasting the sweet reward of a well-deserved sweet treat from the coffee shop before heading over to his office. You’ve been holding your breath every time you start your car since that day—Toji never actually fixed it, and you haven’t had the nerve to bring it up since. The memory of that afternoon lingers too heavily, so you refuse to mention it again.

“Come on, you piece of...” you mutter under your breath, turning the key once more. The engine responds with a sad, pitiful clicking sound that definitely isn’t normal. After the fifth failed attempt, you throw in the towel and dial Toji—the guy who’s become your unofficial mechanic, ever since he tried to bring your radiator back to life with duct tape and a prayer.

“Pretty, I can’t come right now. Megumi’s got a dentist appointment,” Toji’s voice comes through, distracted and full of background noise. Megumi is firing off endless questions about whether dentists are actually certified. “I’ll send someone over for you.”

You start to ask, “Who—?” but the line’s already dead. Typical Toji. One of these days you swear you’re going to give him a good punch in the arm.

Fifteen minutes later, the low rumble of a motorcycle rolls into the parking lot, and your stomach twists into knots. A familiar figure pulls up next to your car, the sleek black Kawasaki purring as if it owns the place. The bike’s dangerous curves mirror its rider perfectly—smooth, powerful, and impossible to ignore.

Of course. Of fucking course Toji would send him. Which honestly you’re grateful a mechanic is actually here. But you would never say that to his face.

Sukuna swings off the bike with that maddening grace, peeling off his helmet to reveal that stupid, infuriating smirk you’ve come to both dread and anticipate. His white t-shirt clings to a chest you’ve tried not to notice, his arms covered in intricate tattoos flexing as he runs a hand through his helmet-mussed hair. The pink highlights catch the afternoon sun, and you hate that you even notice.

You raise an eyebrow, folding your arms as he approaches. “I didn’t know you had a bike.”

He smirks, eyes flickering to your car. “Car trouble, drunky?” he asks, completely ignoring your question as he saunters over like he owns the whole damn lot. His boots scrape against the asphalt, each step deliberate, measured, and annoyingly confident.

You cross your arms tighter, leaning back against your car door. “No, I just love standing in empty parking lots. It’s my hobby.”

He chuckles, closing the distance between you. “Don’t you need my help? Play nice for once.” That damn smirk stretches wider, and you shoot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

“Did Toji tell you what’s wrong?”

“Nah, just said you needed help.” Now he’s close enough that you catch the scent of his cologne mixed with motor oil and leather—a dangerous mix you stubbornly refuse to admit affects you.

“Pop the hood.”

You nod and pop the hood, stepping back as Sukuna leans over the engine bay. The way his shirt rides up just enough to reveal a strip of tanned skin makes your eyes drift, catching the edge of a tattoo winding beneath his waistband.

“See something you like?” he asks without looking up, voice teasing.

You snap back to reality, realizing you’ve been caught staring. “Yeah, a functional car. Think you can manage that?”

He chuckles, rolling his eyes as he moves to the steering wheel and tries the ignition again. The same pitiful clicking noise greets you.

Sukuna straightens, wiping his hands on his jeans with a sigh. “Starter’s shot. I can have one of my guys come pick it up and get it fixed by tomorrow. We’ve got the parts at the shop.”

“Tomorrow?” You groan, dread sinking in. “How am I supposed to get home?”

He pats his motorcycle with a grin, the black paint gleaming under the afternoon sun. “Got a spare helmet. Even padded for that hard head of yours.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Scared?” His eyes glint with challenge, and for the first time you notice a fleck of gold shining in one iris, sharp and mischievous.

“I’ve never been on a motorcycle in my life,” you admit, trying not to let the nervous edge creep into your voice.

“I may not be the best at first impressions,” he says with a cocky grin, “but I’m pretty damn good at driving.” He winks—again. Seriously, there should be laws against being this annoying and this attractive at the same time.

You roll your eyes and scoff, but beneath you feel your resolve is starting to crumble.

Focus. You’ve got shit to do.

While Sukuna calls his shop, you try hard not to get distracted by how effortlessly competent he looks taking charge—his voice sharpening into business mode, calm and controlled. You catch him absently chewing on his bottom lip as he listens to his employee’s response, fingers tapping out a steady rhythm against his thigh. The sunlight catches the silver rings on his hands, glinting just enough to pull your gaze again. You definitely don’t notice any of that. Nope.

“Car will be ready tomorrow afternoon,” he says, ending the call with a satisfied snap. “Tow truck’s on its way. Now…” He holds out the spare helmet—a sleek black with a subtle red pinstripe running along the side. “You coming or walking?”

You eye the helmet like it might bite. “If you kill me, Nobara will never forgive you.”

He smirks, voice softening just a touch at the mention of your daughter. “Guess I better keep you alive then.”

“That’s not very convincing coming from you,” you retort, trying to keep the edge in your voice.

His grin widens as he steps closer, the air between you thick with tension. “I can be very convincing when I want to be.”

You take the helmet, partly just to have something to do with your hands, and clear your throat, turning your head away. “I’ve got a few stops to make before you take me home. That cool?”

You try to sound tough, but the edge is fading fast.

He just smiles and nods. “Tell me where we need to go, drunky.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Whatever you say, baby.” He winks, and you mentally groan.

Rolling your eyes, you swing a leg over the bike. Sukuna’s hands are surprisingly gentle as he helps strap the helmet on. The soft touch sends an unexpected jolt straight to your nerves.

“Alright, where to?” Sukuna asks, already shifting the bike into gear.

“Downtown. I need to meet Nobara’s dad at his office,” you say quickly, like ripping off a band-aid.

He squints, the gears in his head clicking. “What’s his office? I’ll GPS it.”

You mumble the address, watching his expression twist as the name sinks in.

“Higuruma & Associates?” His eyebrows shoot up, like you just dropped some wild secret on him. “Wait, the law firm?”

“Yeah.”

“Your baby daddy is a lawyer?” His tone is tinged with skepticism and a hint of amusement.

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Sukuna. Her father is a lawyer. Is that so hard to believe?”

He repeats the name slowly, testing it out like it’s a foreign word. “Hiromi Higuruma? The top lawyer in Tokyo? That’s who you…” He trails off, waving a vague hand.

“Had a baby with? Yep.” You’re enjoying his discomfort a little too much. “Why? Expecting some deadbeat?”

He shakes his head, turning the bike on with a low growl. “Nah, you just keep surprising me.”

“And what does that mean exactly?” You wrap your arms around his waist as he pulls out of the parking lot, trying to ignore how solid he feels beneath your hands.

“Just surprised you’re making poor life choices,” he calls over the roar of the engine. “Like getting on this bike with me.”

You squeeze his middle harder than necessary. “Just drive, asshole.”

The ride downtown is a blur of honking horns and flashing lights, but you’re too focused on the close contact to notice much else. Holding on to him feels oddly natural—his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt, the way he instinctively shields you from the wind when rounding corners. It’s unsettling how easy it is to fall into the rhythm.

As you approach the towering glass facade of the law firm, Sukuna’s disbelief only seems to grow heavier, his eyes narrowing as they scan the sleek, polished building like it doesn’t quite fit the story he’s piecing together. He eases the bike to a stop with a low whistle, the engine’s rumble fading into the hum of the city. His gaze lingers on the reflective windows, tracing the sharp lines and glossy surfaces with a mix of skepticism and something else—curiosity.

“Can you wait out here? I won’t be long.” You begin to tug off the back of your helmet, feeling the cool air hit your hair as Sukuna steadies the bike beneath you.

“I gotta piss,” he announces abruptly, already swinging his leg over the side to dismount.

You raise a brow, exhaling a tired sigh, and mutter a distracted ‘whatever’ as you start up the steps toward the entrance.

Sukuna doesn’t really have to piss. It’s just his way of sneaking a peek, a subtle excuse to linger and get a better look at this ‘famous’ baby daddy of yours.

At the security desk, the guard looks up and immediately recognizes you. “Good afternoon! Mr. Higuruma is in his office,” he says with a nod, opening the way.

Sukuna’s eyebrows shoot up as the receptionist waves you through without a second glance. The elevator ride up is quiet, but you can feel his gaze on you. You avoid eye contact at all costs by staring at the polished linoleum.

The law firm’s reception is all sleek surfaces and expensive artwork, the kind that screams power and money without saying a word. By the window stands a tall man in a perfectly tailored suit, his dark hair slicked back with precision. When he turns, his stern expression softens just a bit when he sees you.

“You’re late,” Hiromi says, but there’s no real bite behind the words.

“Car trouble,” you reply, nodding toward Sukuna. “This is my… neighbor. He gave me a ride.”

Hiromi nods and gives you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. His sharp eyes flick to Sukuna, taking in the tattoos, the motorcycle helmet in his hand, the way he stands just a little too close to you. A flicker of something knowing crosses his face.

“Appreciate you bringing her,” Hiromi says formally, extending a hand. “Hiromi Higuruma.”

Sukuna shakes it, and you have to bite back a laugh at the nearly imperceptible shock on his face. No doubt about it now—Hiromi’s face has been on magazine covers and news stories enough to be instantly recognizable.

“I’ll wait outside,” Sukuna mutters, giving Hiromi one more look.

As he steps away, you catch Hiromi’s subtle smirk. “Neighbor, huh?”

“Don’t start,” you warn, already bracing yourself. “Let’s just talk about Nobara’s schedule.”

Still, you can’t help stealing a glance at the door, knowing Sukuna’s probably out there, trying to wrap his head around how you—the mouthy librarian next door—ended up having a kid with one of Tokyo’s top lawyers.

Hiromi chuckles, settling into his chair with that same effortless elegance he’s always had. “Ah yes, our little firecracker wants to try jujutsu.”

You smile despite yourself. ‘Our little firecracker’—that’s what Hiromi’s called Nobara ever since she came screaming into the world, loud enough to shatter everyone’s eardrums. It’s strange how you look at Hiromi now — layered with years of history. One wild night at a bar sparked something neither of you expected, something messy and imperfect, but precious all the same—even if romance was never part of the equation.

“She won’t stop talking about it,” you say fondly. “Megumi’s been showing her some moves during recess.”

“Fushiguro’s boy?” Hiromi raises an eyebrow, rifling through papers. “She talks about him constantly. Along with… Yuji and Choso?”

“The neighbor’s nephews,” you say, trying to sound casual. Hiromi hums as he watches Sukuna through his glass office walls.

“The tattooed neighbor who’s making my receptionist nervous?” His eyes twinkle with amusement. “She’s usually unflappable.”

You cut in before it goes further. “Can we focus on summer camp? Registration ends this week.”

“Already handled,” Hiromi says, sliding a neatly organized folder across the polished surface of his desk. The soft thud of the folder hitting the wood feels oddly reassuring. “Both the regular camp and the jujutsu classes are taken care of. And before you start,” he holds up a hand, cutting you off with that familiar, knowing look that tells you he’s been through this dance a hundred times, “I know you can pay for it, but I want to, so don’t even think about complaining.”

You accept the folder, the weight of it somehow grounding you. His straightforward approach is exactly what keeps your complicated arrangement from unraveling. Just two adults who created something incredible together, and who have learned to make it work on their own terms.

“Thank you,” you say softly, meaning every word. “She’s going to be so excited.”

Hiromi raises an eyebrow, a playful glint lighting his otherwise serious eyes. “She gets that energy from you.”

You can’t help the quick retort that flies out, “Pretty sure her attitude is all you.”

He laughs, the sound rich and warm, filling the room like a familiar melody. “Speaking of attitude… the neighbor?”

You shoot him a warning look. “Stop it.”

But you catch the corner of your mouth twitching, betraying your amusement.

“As the father of your child, I feel obligated to point out you’re blushing.”

You roll your eyes. “And as the mother of your child, I feel obligated to tell you to fuck off.”

His expression softens, eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that makes your heart ache a little. “It’s good to see you flustered over someone. It’s been a while.”

“I’m not flustered,” you say quickly, though even your own voice sounds uncertain.

“Of course not,” he replies smoothly, his tone laced with gentle teasing. “Just like you weren’t flustered that night at the bar when you told me my tie was stupid.”

“It was stupid. Still is.” You gesture to the tie he’s wearing now—exactly the same one from that night, a stubborn little emblem of how little things change.

He adjusts it with exaggerated dignity. “It’s classic.”

“Yeah, boring,” you shoot back.

He smirks, undeterred. “Says the woman who rode here on a motorcycle with a man covered in tattoos.”

You roll your eyes, laughter bubbling up despite yourself. Then, suddenly, the room slips into a quiet that feels heavier than it should.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” His voice is softer now, serious.

You look at him, brow furrowed in concern. “Yeah, for sure. You okay?”

He hesitates, swallowing before he speaks. “I’m fine. I just… need to talk.”

His formal tone tightens the knot in your stomach. Hiromi’s never this hesitant unless something’s up.

“Well, that’s never good,” you try to joke, but your voice wavers, and a wave of nausea creeps up your throat.

“So… remember that woman I told you I started talking to?”

You nod slowly, the memory of that passing mention during Nobara’s last pickup still fresh.

“Well, we’re getting serious,” he says, gaze steady. “And I want to know if it’s okay if I bring Nobara around her. Actually…” He pauses, fingers nervously fiddling with the edge of his tie, a rare crack in his usual composed armor. “I was hoping to introduce them to eachother tonight.”

You’re stunned.

Stunned for two reasons.

First, because he actually asked for your permission. That’s never been a written rule between you two, but it’s a line he’s always respected without being asked. Hiromi values your role as Nobara’s mother in a way that’s quietly steady and sincere—a rare kind of respect that means more than words.

Second, because another person in your life is moving into something serious—like a whole new chapter that you never quite saw coming. The universe must be having a private joke at your expense, watching you stumble through your own tangled mess while Hiromi steps forward with someone else.

It’s a strange mix of emotions swirling inside you: a pinch of envy, a stab of loneliness, and beneath it all, a reluctant sense of relief. How pathetic it feels to be caught off guard by this, to realize that while you’re still wrestling with your own chaos, life keeps moving forward for everyone else—sometimes faster than you’re ready to catch up.

“Of course it’s okay,” you manage to say, pushing down the swirl of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “You don’t need to ask.”

“I do, though.” He leans forward, earnest and raw in a way that catches you off guard. “You’re her mother. Your opinion matters. Always.”

You swallow hard, the question catching in your throat more than you expected. “What’s she like?”

Hiromi’s entire demeanor shifts—softens in a way you haven’t seen before, like a mask peeling back to reveal something quieter, more vulnerable. His eyes soften, and a faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as if recalling something precious. “She’s a professor at the university,” he starts, voice low and almost reverent. “She teaches philosophy—always questioning everything, pushing boundaries. Sometimes to the point of driving me crazy, honestly. But that’s part of what makes her so... sharp. Fiercely independent, but with this unexpected warmth that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. The kind of person who remembers the smallest details—your favorite coffee, how you take your tea—and somehow manages to make even the toughest days feel lighter just by being around.”

Hearing him speak like that, you feel a strange ache in your chest—not jealousy, but something softer, more complicated. It’s the quiet, almost boyish affection in his voice that unsettles you, seeing this usually composed man become so openly tender.

“She sounds perfect for you,” you say sincerely, the words catching in your throat. “I’m happy for you, Hiromi.” Without thinking, you reach out and pull him into a hug. He wraps his arms around you without hesitation, grounding you in the moment.

“Thanks,” he murmurs softly, and you hum in response.

But then his expression shifts, growing serious again, searching. “You’re sure you’re okay with this? With tonight?”

You meet his gaze, feeling the weight behind the question settle deep in your chest. “Hiromi,” you say softly, voice steady despite the storm inside, “all I’ve ever wanted is for Nobora to be surrounded by people who love her. If she makes you happy, if she’s good to our daughter... that’s all that matters.”

He studies your face carefully, eyes probing for something beneath your calm. “There’s something else. You look... sad.”

You shake your head quickly, denial rushing out before you can stop it. “I’m not sad.” But the words ring hollow even to your own ears. “I’m just... everyone’s moving forward, you know? And I’m still just...”

“Still just being an incredible mother, building a career you love, and apparently making my receptionist question her life choices by showing up with a man who looks like he could bench press my desk?” His voice lightens, teasing, but with unmistakable warmth.

You roll your eyes, but can’t stop the smile creeping across your face. “Shut up.”

He leans in, voice dropping to that gentle-but-firm tone he uses in court—the one that demands attention without raising volume. “You’re not standing still. You’re choosing your pace. There’s a difference.”

You stand, gathering your things, the flutter of nerves and uncertainty still humming beneath your skin. “Pick her up at five? Her club’s done by then.”

“Perfect.” Hiromi rises too, and before either of you can stop it, you pull him into a quick, unexpected hug.

“Good luck tonight,” you murmur, stepping back. “Try not to be so... lawyer-y.”

He adjusts his tie with mock offense. “I’m always lawyer-y. It’s my charm.”

You roll your eyes again, turning toward the door, but your mind is already racing—thoughts swirling about tonight, about Nobora meeting someone new in her father’s life, about how everything is shifting faster than you’re ready for.

When you step out, Sukuna straightens from where he’d been leaning against the wall, his eyes flickering briefly to yours. You walk past without a word, jabbing the elevator button maybe a little harder than necessary, your chest tight with a tangle of emotions you’re not quite ready to untangle.

The elevator’s silence wraps around you like a thick fog, heavy and electric. You can feel his eyes on you—watching every subtle shift, every flicker of tension in your shoulders, the way your bottom lip catches between your teeth like you’re holding back a secret. It’s obvious he’s bursting to ask something, but he holds it back, the question hanging unspoken between you.

Somewhere between the twelfth and eleventh floor, the pressure becomes too much. You let out a dramatic sigh that echoes in the cramped space, loud and deliberate.

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, waiting patiently, his gaze sharp but unreadable.

“You got any plans tonight?” The words slip out before you can stop them, raw and unfiltered.

He quirks a smirk, the corners of his mouth turning up in that irritatingly confident way. “Why? Ya asking me out, drunky?”

You flush, heat rising to your cheeks. “Never mind,” you scoff and roll your eyes, but he closes the distance between you, stepping in with that infuriatingly casual ease, invading your space like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“My dad’s got the boys this weekend,” he says, voice low, almost a hum. You nod, caught off guard by the softness in his tone, the way his presence suddenly feels less like a challenge and more like an anchor.

The motorcycle ride home is different—lighter, somehow. The usual tension that had wrapped around you both like armor has softened, melted away into something unspoken but real. Without thinking, you rest your head against his back, arms looping around his waist in a grip that feels both desperate and comforting. It’s strange—only a month ago, you barely tolerated him, kept your distance like he was a storm you wanted to avoid. And now, here you are, clinging to him like he’s the only thing steady in a world that’s suddenly spinning too fast.

When you asked about his plans, Sukuna probably pictured something entirely different from what was unfolding now. Here you were, sprawled across your cramped living room floor, deep into a heated, slightly slurred game of drunk Uno. The night had slipped away faster than either of you expected, empty beer bottles scattered around like markers of chaos. The game had long since abandoned any semblance of normal rules, devolving into a ridiculous mess of house-made additions and laughter that echoed off the walls.

“Draw four!” you shouted, slapping your card down with way more enthusiasm than skill, a hiccup punctuating your excitement.

Sukuna narrowed his eyes, suspicion flickering across his face. “You’re cheating.”

You shot him a challenging grin. “Prove it.” A giggle escaped despite your best attempt at a serious poker face.

Yuji’s old Uno deck was a little worse for wear—sticky here and there, evidence of a long-forgotten juice spill—and Sukuna had found it buried in a drawer somewhere. Neither of you cared that the cards were far from pristine.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how the rules work,” Sukuna muttered, reaching for another beer, his voice low but amused.

You mimicked his gruff tone perfectly. “I’m pretty sure I don’t care,” you shot back, and that was the exact moment he hurled a card at your head.

The apartment was chaos—a fortress of couch cushions tossed on the floor, your work bag abandoned near the door, and a half-eaten pizza sitting forgotten on the coffee table. But none of it mattered. Not tonight.

“Your turn,” you hiccupped, waving a hand in his direction.

Sukuna just stared at you, that look sharp in his eyes like he was trying to solve a puzzle. A puzzle made of you, this night, and whatever unspoken tension simmered between you.

“What?” you pressed, your voice a little too loud in the quiet room.

“Nothing,” he said too quickly, too sharply. The kind of ‘nothing’ that always meant something.

The game went on, each round more competitive, more ridiculous, and more drunk than the last.

“Red!” you shouted, slamming your card down like it was some grand victory.

Sukuna took a shot of tequila—because why the hell not—and that’s when you spotted it. A glint of silver when he stuck out his tongue, muttering a curse under his breath at your move.

“Holy shit,” you blurted, eyes widening. “You have a tongue ring?”

He smirked, deliberately flicking his tongue over his teeth. “Observant, aren’t ya?”

“When did you get that?”

“I was sixteen,” he said, tossing down a draw-two card with casual defiance. “Rebellious phase. Pissed off my old man.”

You snorted, disbelief coloring your voice. “You? Rebellious? Never would have guessed.”

“Fuck off,” he laughed, low and rough. It was the kind of laugh that held memories, a little rough around the edges but genuine all the same.

“I bet you were a handful,” you joke, nudging him with your elbow.

Sukuna throws his head back and sighs. “I was a little shit,” he admits, eyes sparkling with mischief. You both keep laying down cards, the game slipping into a rhythm that feels surprisingly easy.

The room falls into a comfortable silence for a moment. You take another slow sip of your drink, the warmth spreading through you.

“Ya know,” you start, voice softer now, “Toji talked about his mechanic friend for years. I was honestly surprised it was you.”

He raises a brow, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Surprised?”

“Yeah,” you giggle, sticking your tongue out teasingly. “For a huge asshole, you’re pretty successful.”

Sukuna’s face heats up just a little, a rare flush that makes him look almost boyish. He chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah? Well, Toji always talked about his gorgeous best friend who’s a librarian and a great mom.”

He pauses, and you catch him taking a slow sip of his beer. The silver glint of metal flashes again as he flicks his tongue—your eyes lock on the subtle tongue ring for a second longer than you mean to.

“Guess you’re not too bad,” he says, raising a brow and pouring you another drink. You laugh, the sound easy and genuine, and for a moment you forget about everything else.

This is actually fun. You don’t know why you invited Sukuna—of all people—over, and you’re not sure why it’s so damn easy to talk to him. It’s annoying, really.

“So,” Sukuna breaks the silence, voice low and deliberate, “the lawyer.”

You freeze, card halfway in the air. “What about him?”

He gestures vaguely between you. “You two… how’s that work?”

You laugh, sharp and a little bitter. “One night stand turned co-parenting. Definitely not a romance novel.”

“Seriously?” His eyes widen, genuinely surprised.

“Hiromi was just… a good guy. Smart as hell. We were both in a place where we needed something. Ended up with the best thing either of us could’ve imagined.” You slam down a draw-two card, your tone firm. “Draw two.”

Sukuna takes the cards, studying you like he’s trying to read between your words. “You never thought about getting back together?”

“We never were,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re friends. Good friends. But romantic? Nope. We’re better as Nobara’s parents than we ever would’ve been as a couple.”

“Huh.” He seems to be processing it all. “Most people would’ve tried to make it work—for the kid.”

“Most people aren’t us,” you say simply, flipping a card triumphantly. “Uno!”

He groans and throws a pillow at you. The game might be falling apart, but neither of you cares.

Suddenly, the door swings open and Toji walks in, key still in hand, freezing at the chaotic scene before him. Two drunk adults sprawled on the floor, Uno cards scattered everywhere, empty beer bottles littered around like casualties of a war.

“Just because you’re my landlord doesn’t mean you can barge in,” you tease, barely looking surprised.

Toji blinks, taking it all in. “What the hell are you two doing?”

Sukuna doesn’t even glance away, raising his beer with a lazy grin. “Uno.”

“Drunk Uno,” you clarify with a shrug, as if that explains everything.

Toji’s eyes flick between the two of you, a mix of confusion and something else—was it amusement? Suspicion?—softening his usual guarded expression.

“Your turn,” you say to Sukuna, completely ignoring Toji’s sudden presence like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Sukuna’s grin broadens, the silver flash of his tongue ring catching the light as he flicks a card down. “Red.”

Toji sighs, drops his keys onto the cluttered table, and slides down onto the floor beside you both. “Scoot over,” he says, settling in like he belongs here.

“Thought you were at the dentist,” you tease, nudging him with your elbow.

“Got done about an hour ago. Megumi’s with his grandparents,” Toji replies, grabbing a beer from the half-empty six-pack. “Deal me in.”

Sukuna picks up the deck and begins reshuffling with practiced ease. Even through your drunken haze, you can’t help but notice how big his hands are, how effortlessly they move as he splits the deck and deals the cards evenly.

He smacks a card down with a grin. “You first, drunky.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname but play along, laying down a yellow five.

Toji methodically organizes his cards, taking a long swig of beer before asking, “Where’s Nobara?”

“With her dad,” you say, tossing down a blue card. “Hiromi’s introducing her to his girlfriend tonight.”

Toji’s brow arches in surprise. “Girlfriend?” Sukuna raises a brow too, and suddenly it clicks why you acted that way in the elevator.

“Yeah,” you explain, voice steady but quiet. “Seems nice. From what he’s told me.”

Toji studies you carefully, eyes sharp despite the beer. “You okay with that?”

You snap back, a little sharper than you mean to. “Why wouldn’t I be?” But there’s a flicker of vulnerability in your voice that betrays you.

Before things can get heavier, Sukuna cuts in, slamming down a card. “Draw four.”

“Asshole!” you laugh, but the relief of the distraction is clear in your smile.

Toji watches you both with a knowing smile tugging at his lips. Whatever’s shifted between you and Sukuna, he’s picked up on it—and he isn’t missing a thing.

"Your deal," Sukuna says, sliding the deck toward you. His fingers linger a moment too long as you take the cards.

A crash of thunder makes you jump, cards scattering everywhere. None of you had noticed the storm rolling in, too caught up in the game and drinks.

"Shit," you mutter, looking out the window at the now-pouring rain. Lightning illuminates the sky, and the lights flicker ominously.

Toji checks his phone. "Power's out in half the building already." He stands, landlord mode activating despite the beer. "Should check on the other tenants real quick."

"Need help?" Sukuna offers, but Toji waves him off.

"Nah, stay here. Make sure this one doesn't burn the place down trying to find candles." Your face deadpans and you flip him off as he grabs his keys, already heading for the door. "I'll be back after I check everyone's okay."

The moment the door shuts, the lights go out.

"Perfect," you mutter, fumbling for your phone. The flashlight beam catches Sukuna's face, shadows playing across his features. You try not to notice how the darkness makes his eyes seem more intense.

"Scared of the dark?" he teases, but he's already moving to help you find candles. You start opening drawers and boxes in the kitchen, not remembering if you had unpacked them yet.

"I fucking hate this" you grumble, trying not to notice how close he is as you both search through your kitchen drawers. "I hate-"

"Me?" he finishes, his voice low and amused. He's standing right behind you now, close enough that you can feel his warmth.

Lightning flashes again, illuminating the kitchen. For a split second, you see his reflection in the window, the way he's looking at you.

You turn around slowly. "I was going to say I hate how unorganized I am, but yeah, you too." You suddenly see the package of candles under some paper in the box you had yet to go through and grab it in defeat.

He laughs softly, taking the candle from you. His fingers brush yours in the darkness. "I can help you unpack the rest of your shit one day, drunky." He sits the candles in the counter and you ignore his statement and begin to search for matches.

It becomes silent again. Only the roar of the rain can be heard. Another crack of thunder, closer this time. You definitely don't jump, and he definitely doesn't notice how you instinctively step closer to him.

"Found matches," you say, trying to maintain some distance - physical and emotional. But in the small kitchen, with the storm raging outside, distance feels impossible.

Sukuna lights the candle, the small flame casting a warm glow between you. "Better?"

.You open your mouth to answer, but your phone buzzes sharply. A text from Toji, “Checking basement circuit breakers. Stay put, doesn’t look like it's gonna die down.”

"Looks like we're stuck here," you say, showing him the message.

Sukuna could easily head back to his own apartment—his place is right next door, after all. But you haven’t said a word about him leaving, haven’t even hinted that the night’s over. So here he is, standing in the dim light of your kitchen, just watching you. His posture is relaxed but there’s an intensity in the way his eyes track your every small movement.

He lets out a dry, sarcastic, “Terrible,” but there���s something softer beneath the edge—a flicker of concern that catches your attention. He glances at you, noticing the way your eyelids are heavy, the subtle slump in your shoulders, the exhaustion etched across your face.

Lightning flashes again, casting flickering shadows across your features, the candlelight dancing over your figure and it mesmerizes him for a moment.

Without a word, Sukuna steps closer and gently reaches out, steadying you as you wobble slightly. “Hey, you look wiped. Come on, let’s get you to bed baby.”

You try to protest, but the exhaustion weighs too heavily. He gently guides you toward the couch, his touch softer than you’d expect. With surprising tenderness, he eases you down into the cushions. The moment your body sinks into the familiar fabric, the night’s weight crashes over you like a wave, dragging you toward sleep.

Sukuna doesn’t move away. Instead, he lowers himself to the floor beside the couch, leaning back against the worn fabric with a slow, steady sigh. The silence between you thickens but doesn’t suffocate—there’s an unspoken understanding in the stillness.

Your breathing evens, eyes fluttering shut. He notices the slight tremor in your shoulders and, without thinking, pulls a blanket from nearby, draping it over you with care. His fingers linger a moment on the fabric, smoothing it as if to shield you from more than just the cold.

Minutes pass in quiet comfort. The storm rages on outside, but inside the room, the soft glow of candlelight and the rhythmic sound of your breathing create a fragile peace. Sukuna’s head slowly tilts back against the couch, eyes growing heavy. Before long, he’s dozing, the steady rise and fall of his chest mirroring yours.

Suddenly, the door creaks open, and Toji steps inside, pausing as he takes in the scene. There you both are—fast asleep, you curled on the couch, Sukuna slumped on the floor beside you, leaning against the couch like a watchful guardian who finally gave in to exhaustion.

Toji lets out a sigh and decides to crash on your bed because he refuses to deal with whatever the hell is happening between you two and your bed is much comfier than that stupid recliner.

But for real, what the hell is happening between you two?

summary/notes: hello my lovelies! I am oh so sorry it took me forever to update. I graduate university in two days. So, I’ve been a busy gal. I do plan to start posting more with the free time I have!

Anyhoo, I really loved writing this chapter so much. I read it out loud to my bf and he’s very invested in the plot lmao (he’s a sukuna and toji simp). I also had to add Hiromi because I’ve been obsessed with him since I read the bath scene years ago.

Please let me know what you guys think! I love to hear your input and suggestions! I love you all so much! <3

taglist is open: please comment and let me know if you want to be on it!! (:

@sukubusss @poopooindamouf @tojiswifeforlife @emochosoluvr @bookfreakk @withtanxp

@pandabiene5115 @fava-boi @not-aya @jkslvsnella @saltypuffin1040 @777pluto

[harmonyrae]

Vow - Part 3

Synopsis: You need to fix this. It’s not about protection anymore, you need him. Just him. And what you don’t know yet… he needs you too.

AN: I've decided to post shorter parts instead of ~20k chapters. It means I can post more often and enjoy the process a lil more. I can also provide more cliffhangers. Smile. Cover image from Pinterest.

Content Warnings: Explicit language & sexual themes, serious injuries, blood, graphic violence & implied death, medical terms/procedures described, HEAVY praise kink, Cunnilingus, Genital Piercings, Dom!Sylus & Domestic!Sylus in one chapter (delicious), Sub/Brat!FMC (reader), Mating Press (yas pls), 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 8.1k

Sylus’s POV

She hates you. She thinks you’re a monster. And she’s right. Becoming the leader of Onychinus wasn’t exactly agreed upon over a business luncheon. You killed for the right to bare the title. But it's not all about violence and illegal protocore trading, you’ve made an impact. Legal businesses, safe places to live, it’s better than it was when you arrived. But she’ll only ever see your darkness.

You’re not even paying attention to how fast you’re going at this point. You know the roads to take, the alleys to avoid and officers won’t pull you over. Police in the Zone have given up chasing your bike - they know better. You also pay most of them to keep their noses clean. Yes, technically they’re still dirty cops since they’re taking a bribe, but they’re actually protecting people now that they’re well paid. 

A warehouse on the water, your intel wasn’t rock solid, but it was enough to go off of. You’ll burn the whole complex down if you need to. Once you spot the Escalade you try to ignore the feeling of disappointment. A little arson would have been nice. 

You park your bike behind a box truck and remove your helmet. With every step closer to the entryway, you feel the ground pulse with energy, you sense 6 distinct sources. One of which is approaching the door you need to get through. Wouldn’t it be nice… 

“Fuck –” 

The man who swings open the door immediately recognizes you, but he’s thrown back before he can utter another word. Chaos ensues as the other men rise to their feet and unholster their weapons. To your surprise, their weapons are advanced and definitely use protocore power. Seems Onychinus has a rat, Volkova has been building his arsenal with your weapons.

Okay, well, maybe the rat is doing you a favor, these weapons are absolute shit. Letting the bullets phase through you is easier than dodging at this point, so when half of their guns jam it just means time saved. You disarm the men, their guns dismantled and displaced. A stray bullet from the man upstairs rips through your jacket and into your upper back. You’re accustomed to pain, but it still stings like a bitch.

“Annoying…” You mutter.

The man disintegrates where he stands. The other men, who’ve barely regained their footing, barrel towards you. Paying them half-a-mind, you continue walking to the back office where your primary target most likely has dick in his hand, celebrating a victory that hasn’t come to pass. He really needs to stop doing that, has he learned nothing?

A knife wedges itself deep between your ribs. If it was a normal knife you would have laughed, but Volkova has smuggled protocore knives from Linkon. Of course he has. The knife erupts, sending a burst of heat through your side. Falling forward, you try to yank it out, but two men pile on top of you. 

“I got him!”

“Sure about that?”

One’s sent straight up in the air, knocking the other man aside. You pull the knife free and roll over. As the man descends, you hold out your arm so he lands directly on the knife, the blade buried in his stomach. Using his corpse as a weapon, you fling him across the room to knock down the other men. With the rest of them unconscious, you brush yourself off and try to ignore the brutal sting in your side. 

You bring the only worthwhile weapon in the room back to you with a snap of your fingers. A knife with explosive capabilities that localizes to the wound? Sure, you’ll keep this one. You wipe the blood off on your pants and head into the next room.

As soon as you’re inside, a door flies open and a large man - no, large isn’t the right word… A colossal, behemoth, a monstrosity of man steps through. You didn’t realize the Hulk’s body was attainable. He doesn’t have a weapon, he doesn’t need one, he is one. Your mind buzzes with anticipation, immediately calculating the size of the room, your current injuries dampening your evol, his fist size… This one might hurt. 

“Malen'kiy chelovek, ukhodi.” 

“I’ve never been called little before. Well…”

She had suggested “Lil S” as a nickname. The way her eyes twinkled as she giggled, so pleased with herself. Did she get home safely?

“Malen'kiy chelovek umret.”

Damn, your Russian is rusty. 

“Bol'shoy chelovek, zatknis' nakhuy.”

Big man is not pleased, telling this beast of a man to shut the fuck up may have been a bad move. But he did just threaten to kill you, so it’s only fair. He roars and only needs three steps to reach you. His massive hand is around your throat and if your evol hadn’t been on autopilot, your head would be rolling across the floor like a bouncy ball right now. You grunt and gasp as he lifts you up, your feet kicking to find some kind of leverage. 

The knife in your hand rips through his suit and slices at the flesh of his forearms. He shouts and hurls you across the room, so this is what it feels like… Your body slams into the wall and the room dims for a moment. Ears ringing, blood trickling down your forehead, a few bones definitely broken, you lay on the floor and regain control of your lungs. Your giant friend stalks over. You keep your eyes closed, feeling the vibrations through the floor, his energy pattern forming a bright outline behind your eyelids. Closer, just a bit closer.

“Malen'kiy chelovek ne sootvetstvuyet legende.” 

Rude, he’s catching you on an off day, you write your own legends of course they’re accurate. He crouches and your eyes flutter open, barely able to make out his face as he blocks out the light above you. But his smile is unmistakable. 

“Arrogant…” 

With your last bit of energy, you roll and jab the knife between his eyes. The son-of-a-bitch staggers and falls forward. Sitting up on your knees you put all your body weight onto the knife, ending the poor bastard's miserable existence. You have to use your foot to pull the knife free, like hell you’re leaving it now. 

It’s been a very long time since you’ve emerged from a fight looking bloody and beaten. And you haven’t even confronted Volkova. You sigh and limp up the stairs to the final door, only one pulse of energy is in this room. Kicking the door in, you see Volkova lounging in an armchair in the corner, like he’s been waiting for you. 

A monitor on his desk flashes, scenes of the wreckage you’ve caused. You smile.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

Volkova stands, walking to the desk to lean against the edge.

“Watching you get thrown around was certainly entertaining.”

You take a cautious step forward, then another, slowly closing the distance.

“You should learn to fall from grace with… well, grace. Maybe then you’ll finally earn the respect you crave.”

He smiles and lifts a hand to run his fingers through his beard. 

“You think I haven’t noticed? How your plot to fuck me over by using her has become… well… Sylus, you’re the one who told me that happy endings don’t work out for men like us. Or do I have to remind you of what happened last time you tried?”

Your scream is raw and unfiltered, barely recognizable. He doesn’t get to mention her. You lunge for him, tackling him over the desk to the floor. He lands a punch to your jaw which knocks you back. He tries to get on top of you, but you send your knee into his gut. You’ve hit your limit, there’s no energy left in your tank. So you rely on your training, forcing the knife in your hand against his throat. The asshole smiles, even as a trail of blood begins to stain his shirt collar. 

“Touched a nerve? What makes her so special?”

“She’s mine.”

You flip the knife around and place the tip over his heart. He glares at you, his wicked smile remains, making your head pound. The pressure behind your eyes becomes unbearable and the familiar silence that precedes the glow begins. Volkova notices, you’re sure of it, because he finally shuts his mouth. A voice, you know it to be your own, but ancient and rigid, echoes through the small office. 

“The only reason you are still alive is because of her. An angel begging the devil to change his ways. You will leave the N109 Zone. You will stay away from her. Or you will watch everything you’ve built, everything you care about, burn before you have the honor of meeting your fate. Do you understand me?”

Volkova nods, but his eyes tell a different story. His rage knows no bounds, but he’s finally afraid. Like he should have been all along.

By the time you reach your bike the front of your shirt is soaked in sweat and blood. If you can make it home without crashing you’ll have a hell of a mess to clean up. What if she left? The thought sobers you and you push your bike to the limit to carry you home.

Stumbling through the elevator door, you nearly collapse onto the entry table. Taking small steps, you carefully shed your clothing. Your favorite jacket ruined with a large caliber exit through the front, shredding the leather holding the sleeve up. Your previously ash gray tank top stained brown with drying blood, a tear where the knife pushed through. Even your gloves are soaked as you peel them off, droplets of blood drip off your fingertips. 

The door to the bathroom slams against the wall, so much for being quiet. You close the door with your foot and limp to the sink, opening the mirror cabinet to retrieve the medkit and a few extra bandages. You look back and realize the mess you’ve made, footprints, a smear over the door, the sink spotted. Opting to use the shower as your recovery room, you slide down the cool tile wall. You hold a gauze pad over the wound on your side and close your eyes.

“Come on… Come on…” 

If only willpower was enough to refuel your evol. It’ll be awhile before you’re strong enough to close these wounds. Searching through the medkit you find some antiseptic wipes and spray, surgical tape and compression bandages. A single spritz of the spray has you groaning, why does that sting so goddamn much…

You’ve barely secured the compression bandage when a wave of dizziness overwhelms you. Resting your head against the shower wall, you hold pressure on the leaking wound to your side. With your other hand you feel your pants pockets only to realize you’ve left your phone in your jacket. Which is out in the hallway. Which is too far for you to crawl at this moment in time. You should have called Zayne before driving home… There’s another option, but she’s probably asleep. And she hates you. 

Waking up after crying yourself to sleep is never pleasant. Your eyes are puffy, your nose is stuffy, your head hurts, your pillow is wet with tears. You sit up slowly and press your palms over your eyes. You’ll never be able to go back to sleep with a headache like this. You need to wash your face again, maybe that will help. 

You wrap a throw blanket around your shoulders and shuffle out the door. The kitchen is dark, but you don’t want to risk Sylus finding out you’re awake. If he’s even home… You grab a water bottle out of the fridge and lean against the counter to down half of it. The “medical stuff” box is still in your closet, you might have some painkillers in there. 

As you walk back to your room, you notice the light by the elevator is still on. It’s automatic, which means Sylus must have just come home not that long ago. You take another step, but a heap on the floor by the elevator stops you. Curiosity gets the better of you and you get closer. It’s his jacket… And there’s muddy footprints all over the place. 

It’s not raining.

You look closer and cover your mouth to swear under your breath. It’s blood. You shrug off the blanket around your shoulders and toss it over a chair in the entryway. Following the bloody trail down the hallway, you find a smear of blood on the door to the bathroom. Just as you’re about to open the door you hear a low groan. Panic overwhelms you and before you can stop to consider what you’re walking in on, you throw open the door.

Jumping over the bloody boot prints, you enter the room and immediately spot Sylus sitting in the shower. You rush over to him and crouch down, dropping to your knees next to him. He’s patched himself up as best he can, but you can already tell there are a few wounds that need sutures. He hasn’t looked up so you assume he’s unconscious. You reach across his lap to retrieve the medkit beside him and scream when he grabs your wrist.

“Fuck! Sylus… oh my god, I thought you were unconscious. What happened?” 

“I’m fine.” 

His voice is strained and his breathing is labored. You’ve been a doctor long enough to know better. Why is he being so stubborn?

“You’re bleeding, you’re obviously not fine.”

“My evol will… fix it… I just need time… “

“Well your evol isn’t fixing it fast enough, you’ll bleed out. Let me –”

“Just go. I’m fine.”

“Sylus, stop. Let me help you.”

Is he pushing you away because he’s angry? Or because he’s in pain and doesn’t want you to see him like this? It doesn’t matter, you’re not going to let him bleed out. You grab the medkit and take inventory of the tools you have at your disposal. It’s not much, but you’ll make do. You reach out to lift the gauze on his side that is soaked through, but he stops you.

“Sylus…”

“Go.”

“No, I’m not leaving!”

He tries to move away, but you grab his shoulder making him wince.

“Sylus. Stop.”

He closes his eyes, he won’t admit defeat, but he won’t keep pushing you away. You’ll take what you can get at this point. You replace the gauze on his side and stand to scavenge through the medicine cabinet. To your surprise, you find another medkit with a small sewing kit inside. The kit labels the thread as a nylon material, so you hurry to the sink to wash your hands. When you turn around you see Sylus look away. You’d forgotten you were only wearing a thin t-shirt and panties to bed. It’s not like you’re going to throw on scrubs, he’s seen everything now… You return to his side and put on a pair of gloves out of the first medkit and sanitize the needle. 

“You’re wasting your time, they’ll be closed by morning.”

“I don’t care.” 

You clean the area as best you can and hold the wound closed. Sylus grabs your hand again.

“I don’t need –”

“Sylus, stop it! You’re the worst patient I’ve ever had! Now sit still and shut the fuck up!”

He stares at you with wide eyes. You can’t tell if he’s angry or amused, but it seems he’s done fighting. He lets you go and leans back. He winces and swears under his breath as you begin suturing his wound closed. You work quickly since you don’t have any anesthetic and if you think about the sight in front of you for too much longer, your hands will start to shake. You spread an antibiotic cream around the edges of the wound and place another bandage on top. 

The bruises forming over his ribcage and on his jaw are massive, but they seem to fluctuate, like a pulse. He said his evol would “fix it” - so he can self-heal? His body must be trying so hard to repair the damage. Patching up a few of his wounds may help his evol replenish faster. You don’t stop, suturing the exit wound on his chest next before having him lean forward to address the entry point. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Once you finish, he rolls his shoulder to test the strength of your stitches. You take his hand again, opening your own to begin cooling your skin with your evol. Tiny snow crystals form over your fingers. But before you can cover the swollen skin he, once again, pulls back.

“Why didn’t you go to Zayne?”

He remains silent. You rest your frosted hand over the bandage on his chest and he gasps, but he still refuses to look at you. His avoidance only irritates you further and your eyes soon glaze over with tears. You always cry when you’re mad and right now, you’re positively livid. 

“Sylus, you could have died. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means, it doesn’t matter. I bleed, heal, rinse and repeat.”

“So what? You almost bleed out in a bathroom and you what? You don’t care?”

“And you do?”

“Stop it!”

“What?” 

He looks away, but you grab his jaw and pull his focus back to you. He flinches as you hold his slightly swollen jaw still.

“Stop acting like if something happened to you it wouldn’t matter.”

“Would it?”

You slam your other hand down against the wall beside his head. As you hover over him, he just watches you, his once vibrant eyes vacant and misty. You can’t do this anymore. You can’t aimlessly flirt or fight with this man and watch him return to you battered and bloody. Because one day, he might not return at all.

“It would matter to me.”

“Why?” He whispers.

“Because yours is too…”

He remains silent, his lips try to form words but fail, so you continue.

“Your life is important to me. I don’t… I…I can’t lose you…”

Ignoring the fear, the worry, the doubt, the inconvenient timing, you grab his face and dive forward to kiss him. Your tender kiss becomes feral as soon as he grabs onto your hips, dragging you onto his lap. He groans into your mouth, his aching jaw long forgotten as he holds onto you, digging his fingers into your bare thighs. 

You suck on his bottom lip which earns you a delicious moan. A gentle bite and a smile forms on his kiss-swollen lips. Your hands thread through his hair, keeping him in place to continue your attack. It’s all teeth and tongue and gasps and groans, your mind goes blank as you surrender to the ecstasy of simply being close to this man. His fingers dip under the hem of your shirt, you roll your hips as you press your body against his. The unmistakable hardness of his cock strains against his jeans, you can feel him shake as you roll your hips a second time. 

“Angel…” 

He mumbles against your lips as he tries to break away. You kiss his cheek, his jaw, and continue down his neck. His breathing is staggered, his cocky laugh not so cocky. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

You sit back and grab the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head and dropping it to the floor beside him. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, not sure where to look first. Your flushed face, your glistening skin, your heaving breasts, your nipples just begging to be touched and bitten. You press your naked chest against his, his nipple rings providing a chill that sends a shiver down your spine. His hands travel up your back, his warm palms keeping you pinned against him.

“Yes… Sylus please…” You whisper against his ear.

He places a gentle kiss to the center of your chest, continuing along your collarbone and up the side of your neck. Your head tilts back and your eyes close. The wet heat of his tongue dragging along the center of your throat pulls a whimper from deep in your chest. His hands knead the flesh of your hips as his lips capture yours again. He wastes no time, opening his own mouth to invite your tongue inside. You might blackout if he keeps kissing you like this, but fuck… you don’t want him to stop.

You’re suddenly off balance and cling to his shoulders as he stands. You allow him to guide your legs around his waist, but look down at him with concern.

“You’re hurt… I –”

Sylus squeezes your ass and you jolt, your thighs tensing in a futile attempt to control your own arousal. He carefully side steps the bloody boot prints and carries you out into the hall.

“This…” He kisses your shoulder. “Is helping…”

He continues to hold you close, one hand spread across your back, the other supporting your thigh. You let your hand roam over his shoulder and back, the swelling around the gunshot entry is already subsiding. Maybe this is helping his evol replenish… in some odd way… Not that you’re complaining. 

The door to his bedroom slams against the wall and he hurries inside. He drops you on his bed and you sit up on your elbows to watch him. He undoes his belt and whips it off in one smooth motion. You bite your lip and try to shift onto your knees, but he stops you, grabbing your ankles and yanking you towards him. You giggle in response, he drops his knee beside your hip and bends forward to kiss you again. He kisses you breathless while his hands work your sensitive nipples. Rolling, pinching, tugging. When he lowers his head to suck one into his mouth, his tongue flicking at a languid pace, you dig your nails into his back and whine. 

“Sy…”

He sits up on his knees and just looks down at you. You reach out for him and he takes hold of your hands, threading his fingers with yours. His eyes roam over your body, smirking at every mark that has started to darken on your neck and breasts.

“Last chance, angel. Tell me you want this.”

Holding his hands tightly, you drop yours onto the bed above you, forcing him to lower his body onto yours. His hips press against your core and you lock your legs around him. 

“I don’t want this.”

Your mis-matched actions and words leave him dumbfounded. 

“I want you.”

His lips seal against yours, his chest pressed down to feel your heartbeat in tandem with his. You slide your hands free and rub his sides, careful not to touch the bandages. His pants were already unbuttoned and hanging loosely around his hips, you wanted them off. Now. You try to push the fabric down, but don’t get far when he takes hold of your wrists.

“Don’t you think…”

He quickly tucks an arm under your hips and brings them off the bed. You gasp and when he lets go of your wrists, you fist the bedding to level yourself. With his other hand free, he lifts your hips higher, sitting back on his heels. His hot breath across your inner thigh makes you whimper. 

“I need to regain my strength first?”

His fingers drag along the hem of your lace panties. You close your eyes, trying to ignore the embarrassment of how incredibly wet you already are. As his tongue darts out to swipe over the wet spot on the fabric you arch your back and gasp. You need to tell him. 

“I should have something to eat first.”

He lowers your hips just enough to slip your panties down, working them off one leg at a time. His hands lift your legs and hook them over his shoulders, his face inches away from your throbbing center. You release the bedding and reach for his hands, trying to get his attention. He feels your tension and stops, lowering you back on the bed. 

“What? Do you want to stop?”

You shake your head. He lets your hips meet the mattress and settles down on his elbows over you. His forehead rests against yours as one of his hands strokes your hip. 

“I just need to tell you something…”

He nods, urging you to continue. You’re sure you’re as red as a tomato and your lip is quivering. You’ve never told a guy this… You just keep it to yourself and pretend everything is fine. But with Sylus, you don’t want it to be like the rest. You actually feel something for him, not just a physical attraction, but something more... You take a deep breath and close your eyes.

“No one’s ever… done that and made me… uhm…”

“Come?”

Your eyes snap open and see him looking at you with brows raised. 

“It’s a me thing, I think. I just… I think…”

“Exactly.”

“What?”

“You think too much. And, if I had to guess, whoever tried before wasn’t putting your needs first, were they?”

You look away and bury your face in his shoulder. He chuckles and kisses your neck sweetly. 

“Sweetie, I don’t care if I have to spend all night between your legs, you’re going to come for me. Many times. And if you try to fake it…”

He pauses and just as you open your mouth to ask, he bites your neck. It’s not painful, but it takes you by surprise. A splendid, disturbing, thrilling surprise. 

“I’ll have to punish you.” He whispers.

He pushes off of the bed and kneels at the side of the bed. You barely have time to prop yourself up on your elbows before your legs are over his shoulders and his mouth is on you. You scream, the instantaneous burst of pleasure that shoots through you as he sucks on your clit is overwhelming. His hands keep your legs spread, you're completely exposed to him. He moans as he feasts, his tongue dipping down to your entrance. You immediately tense up and he feels it. He returns his mouth to your clit, his tongue teasing with precision. His fingers move away from your thigh to play at your entrance. Circling, dipping and finally thrusting inside. He takes his time, his movements precise. He pays attention to your responses, if you tense he stops and tries something else. It’s not long before he finds the perfect combination that has you writhing and trying to ride his face.

Three fingers in, curling upwards like he’s beckoning for your orgasm to come closer. His lips sealed around your clit, sucking while his tongue flicks the bundle of nerves rapidly. The occasional bite makes your hips lift and your vision to blur. The thought of faking crosses your mind but he bites your inner thigh and your back arches off the bed. You scramble, trying to get away, every touch sends you closer to either an edge or a wall and you’re terrified to find out which.

“Don’t run from it sweetie… look at me.”

Through blurry eyes, you see him looking up at you, his mouth and nose buried in you. The way his eyes glisten, half-lidded like he’s drunk off of your essence alone, his pupils wide with just a sliver of crimson circling them. He pumps his fingers faster and your entire body tingles, he pries your fingers away from the bedspread, threading them with his. Your habit of overthinking resurfaces - the way his mouth moves, his tongue, the way he’s watching you, his hand squeezing yours. What if you can’t? What if he gets upset? What if – fuck…

“Sylus. Sylus! Ahhh… Sy…!”

Your body convulses as your eyes roll back and your head hits the mattress. Sylus moans loudly, his mouth moving ever so slightly to make sure not a drop of your release is wasted. When your breathing steadies and your hips twitch, Sylus lowers you and crawls up the bed to hold you, his fingers comb through your damp hair. 

Before you can register what emotion is bubbling up, a sob escapes you. Tears stream down your cheeks and you can barely open your eyes. Sylus cradles you and strokes your back.

“Did I hurt you? Fuck… I… I’m sorry…”

“No no no you… you didn’t!” You whisper.

He rolls over on his side and extends his arm for you to rest your head. He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and dries your tears with his thumb. When you finally force your eyes open, you see his worry-laced expression and bring your own hand to his face.

“You silenced the storm…”

You want to say more, but Sylus presses a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“I think you silenced mine too.”

The confession brought on a new wave of tears. Sylus acts quickly, rolling you on your back and placing kisses all over your face before trailing down your neck. Whimpers turn to moans as he pinches your nipple and suckles the soft skin under your jaw. Your emotions settle and your mind clears, which means you know exactly what you want. 

“Sylus?”

He hums against your skin, waiting for your next question. You run your hands down his back and slide one between your bodies. When your fingers dip beneath his waistband he stops moving completely, his attention solely on your hand. You wait and he doesn’t stop you. He sinks his face into the crook of your neck as you continue. As your fingers travel lower, you feel more confident. Your other hand threads through his hair and you kiss his temple, enjoying his rather immediate responses. 

“Sensitive?” 

He doesn’t reply, well, not with words. He growls, it’s subtle, but the vibrations are heavenly against your skin. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you sigh, he’s fucking perfect. He shifts and you easily stroke him, your eyes widening at the slight change in width. His cock is long, god you want – oh god…

“Find something you like?” 

Damn right you did. You’d daydreamed about his lip rings against your clit, his nipple rings rubbing against your chest, but a fucking ladder? Your fingertips trace 6 distinct metal balls lined up, the rods just beneath his skin. He lifts his head and groans as you run your fingers over the piercings over and over. Your hand continues, but another bit of metal catches on your fingers and you grab a fistful of Sylus’s hair as you curse.

“Fuck me…”

“I’m trying to…” 

His hips jerk as you close your palm around his tip, two small rings loop through the ridge along its base. As you rub faster he starts to roll his hips, chasing the warmth of your hand. When you remove your hand from his pants entirely you can feel his entire body shake.

“Take them off.”

He stands beside the bed and holds his hand out, waiting for you to take it. He drags you over and places your hands on his hips. Taking the hint, you push his pants down and let them drop. You maintain eye contact as you pull his boxers down, you can tell the moment his cock is free because his breathing stutters. You don’t look down, you just let your hands explore.

Your palms lay flat on his stomach, memorizing every inch of his skin as you continue to lower them to his hips. He leans his head back and closes his eyes and you watch his face react to every tiny movement. Your hands return to his cock and you feel the weight of it, the length, how the piercings create a mouthwatering contrast against his hot skin. 

His abs tense as you lean forward and lick his tip. He doesn’t let you continue and you don’t argue when he lays you back. His cock rests against your stomach, his tip leaking furiously adding to the mess you previously made.

“Do I need –”

“No… I’m on the pill.”

“I can never finish a sentence around you huh?” He teases. 

You hook your arms around his neck and shut him up with a kiss. With a few tentative rolls of his hips, his cock nudges your clit. When you feel his piercing, you break away.

“Fuck me please… fuck… please…”

“I love hearing your voice…”

He finally sinks into you, the initial stretch coaxing another moan out of you. 

“That’s it… just like that.” 

His knee pushes your leg out and his hips meet yours. You can feel every single piercing, they drag along your slick walls making you whimper uncontrollably. 

“Ahhh you’re such a good girl for me…”

Your pussy clenches around him and you slam your head forward against his shoulder. Really? This is how you discover you have a praise kink? Right now? Fantastic. Sylus gasps, oh he’s not going to let you get away now.

“Oh she liked that, yeah? The way she’s squeezing me, I think she loves it. Does my good girl like it when I praise her?”

Again, your pussy spasms and you shout, you’ve never been so close to an orgasm so fast before. You were already obsessed with how good he felt, but now he’s talking to you like this? 

“Are you going to come for me already? Just from me calling you a…”

“Sylus!”

“Good fucking girl…”

You scream, you pump your hips and he matches your pace working you through your second explosive orgasm of the night. He kisses you, inhaling your whimpers like they’re oxygen. He rolls you both onto your side, holding your thigh up over his hip. He slows down, rolling his hips so you feel the drag of every piercing. Each time he bottoms out, he thrusts just enough to put pressure on your g-spot.

“I need one more from you, can you do that for me sweetie?” 

You nod, or at least you think you nod. You’re not entirely sure with how the room is spinning.

“Mhmm… that’s my girl…”

He withdraws almost completely to slam back inside making the bed rock and lamp on the side table shake. His languid rhythm returns and you can already feel another climax fast approaching. 

“Tell me… you’re mine.”

With his forehead pressed against yours, all you can do is stare into his eyes. His voice shakes and his movements falter. Your arms tighten around his shoulders. You never imagined he’d be begging to hear the very words you’ve been dying to say.

“I’m yours.” 

His hips snap forward and he grits his teeth, like he’s holding back. His eyes close and his arms tremble. You press a soft kiss on his cheek and drop your voice to a whisper.

“I’m yours.”

He gasps as he lets go. His release is just as explosive as your own. As he fucks his cum deeper inside of you he drops his head to your shoulder and repeats “you’re mine” like a prayer. Hearing his desperation you dig your heel into his lower back and let your sluttiest moan rip free as your climax hits. 

You’re not sure how long you lie there holding each other. Or when he slides out of you, careful to keep your legs tangled together. But when you open your eyes, the sun is on the horizon and your bodies are covered in a soft blanket. His head is buried in the crook of your neck, your arms around his shoulders. You stare at the wedding ring on your finger and smile as you slowly drift off to sleep.

The sun is fully risen when you open your eyes again. You roll over and realize you’re in bed alone. Sitting up, you notice you’re wearing one of Sylus’s button ups. After a closer inspection, you realize you’ve been cleaned up and the bedding changed. The only thing you can think about is finding Sylus, you have a million questions and you don’t want to lose your nerve. However, standing proves to be a tad difficult. Your legs shake as if you just ran a marathon and your pussy throbs, not in the fun way.

You limp to the door and look down the hallway, not a soul in sight, not even Ollie. You walk through the house, finally hearing soft music coming from the kitchen. As you round the corner, you see Sylus standing over the stove. Still shirtless and wearing only his boxers. It’s an oddly domestic sight. He hums along with the music, bobbing his head as he cooks. You lean against the doorway and clear your throat. He looks over his shoulder and grins.

“I was going to bring you breakfast.”

You walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, kissing his back before resting your cheek against him. He covers your hands with his.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“I’m perfect.” 

He urges you to sit at the island and brings you a cup of coffee. When he serves you a plate with eggs, bacon and french toast you squeal with excitement. He laughs as he refills his cup and sits down next to you. A comfortable silence settles as you eat and sip your coffee. Sylus keeps looking at you out of the corner of his eye and when he smiles you break.

“Okay, what? What is it?”

“Nothing, I’m just admiring my artwork.” 

You hold up your spoon and try to see what he’s referring to. Even upside down and blurred to hell, you can see the dark marks along your neck and chest. You turn to face him and hold the spoon up for him.

“My artwork is pretty impressive too, don’t you think?”

He squints and then drops his gaze to his plate. You reach out and trace one of the marks under his jaw, following a path up to his ear. Watching his ear turn a soft shade of red and goosebumps rise makes you giggle in delight. He snatches your hand and holds your fingers up to his mouth, pressing tiny kisses to each fingertip. 

“It’s a shame. My good girl only appears at night, turns naughty when the sun comes up.”

“Sylus…”

“Mhmm…” He kisses your palm and you shiver.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

He lowers your hand and shifts to face you.

“What do you want this to be?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure. I want you, that’s all I know. So, if you’d like to see where this goes… I am very, very interested.”

You turn away sheepishly and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear in a pathetic attempt to be nonchalant. 

“I am… very, very interested, too.”

He moves to sit on the edge of his stool, his hands on your hips. He leans forward, his lips so close you can feel his warm breath.

“Then it looks like I’m dating my wife.”

You’re about to laugh, but he cuts you off with a kiss. You sigh as he stands, picking you up and sitting you on the island between your plates. He slots himself between your legs, he lifts the bottom of his shirt you’re wearing up over your hips. You push against his chest and he stops.

“That also means we need to work on how we communicate.” 

He raises a brow and backs up, his hands resting on the counter next to your thighs. 

“I’m sorry for how I reacted last night. It wasn’t fair of me to get angry. I mean, you saved my fucking life. I panicked, but I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

He reaches up to take your hand, holding it against his chest.

“I shouldn’t have expected you to just… accept what I did. Like you said, you save lives. I… took one, right in front of you. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me for that.”

You kiss the tip of his nose, his look of shock makes you smile. He’s not used to tender acts of affection, you make a mental note to shower him with them from now on.

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to hate you.”

You run your hands down his arms, admiring the way his muscles flex as you touch him.

“I just wish… I just don’t want to be afraid, I want to know I can protect myself. I can’t expect you to always be there. I’m so tired of being scared.”

“We can fix that.”

“How?”

“I can train you. Help you learn to protect yourself.”

Resting your forehead against his, he wraps his arms around you. You relax in his embrace. Looking down at the prominent outline in his boxers you take a deep breath and wrap your legs around him. He starts kissing your cheek, your jaw, your neck and you gently scratch his back.

“You know… a few years ago, I had a patient come in with a new piercing. He was bragging about it. Basically gave me a free class - Dick Piercings 101. His cocky attitude vanished when we needed to put a catheter in, but… I still remember the name of the piercing he had.” 

He steps back. You watch him slowly push his boxers down, letting them drop to the floor. Your eyes drop, yep, still pretty in the daylight. Swallowing hard, you shiver as he places his hands on your knees, spreading them wider and wider until you're just as exposed as he is. Gathering your courage, you continue.

“King’s Crown.”

He steps closer, your hand dropping to rub over the piercings along the ridge at the base of his tip. His cock stiffens as you let your thumb rest over his slit, rubbing small circles.

“What is it about using royalty terms and names for cock piercings? King’s Crown… Prince Albert… Trying to convince yourself of something?”

He nips at your shoulder and you yelp. He grabs the back of your neck and keeps your head bent forward, fully focused on his cock. Like you were able to focus on anything else.

“I don’t think I need to convince anyone of anything. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He moves your hand away and pulls you to the edge of the counter, his tip nudges your aching clit and you gasp. You can feel the corners of his mouth tip up into a smile as he kisses your neck. He takes hold of his cock and you shimmy your hips, fuck you’re needy…

“Tell me, do you enjoy teasing me?”

He holds your hips still, his mouth dipping down to the top button of your shirt. He uses his teeth to tug it open. You strain against his hands, one on your hip and one on the back of your neck - you need movement. Anything to alleviate the pressure building. 

“I do… just a little.”

He tugs another button free and licks a stripe up the center of your chest.

“So just a little bit of a brat then, hmm?”

You scoff and try to pull away, but he holds you steady.

“Watch…”

And you do. You watch him shift his hips forward, his cock sinking into you at an agonizing pace. He releases your hip to spread you wider, the erotic sight leaves you breathless. 

“Watch how she… sucks me right in. So perfect.”

He bottoms out and you groan, with how he’s forcing you to look down you can see the shape of him. You lower your hand, placing it over your stomach. As soon as you press down, both of you groan. Sylus lets go of your neck and you nearly fall back onto the counter. He rips open your shirt, buttons scattering across the kitchen floor. His hands return to your hips and as he thrusts, he pulls you closer. 

“Fuck Sylus… faster…”

He chuckles, but obliges. The lewd sounds of skin against skin echoes through the kitchen and you close your eyes to keep them from crossing. Your back arches off of the cool granite and your hands search for something to hold onto. 

Crash

Your hand swipes a plate off the counter, sending it crashing to the floor with a shatter. Sylus doesn’t stop, in fact, the sudden sound makes him thrust deeper - which you didn’t know was humanly possible.

“Yes! Yes, please don’t stop ahhh…”

Your begging pulls a growl from him, it’s becoming your favorite sound he makes. Feral, unashamed, dominating. You whine as your pussy clenches, spasming wildly. 

“That’s right angel, let me hear you. I love hearing your voice.”

He leans forward, one of his hands traveling up your body until he reaches your neck. His fingers wrap around your throat gently, the possessive action sparks a fire that quickly spirals out of control. An unfamiliar pressure builds and you hold onto his forearm, your nails digging into his skin.

“You’re so deep Sy… ahh fuck…!”

Without warning you feel that pressure release as your orgasm crashes over you. You’re so delirious you don’t register the splatter of something wet on the floor. Sylus curses under his breath and his movements become sloppy. Your breathing is erratic, staggered by whimpers. 

“Angel.. I need to - please…”

Your neck is released and your legs are suddenly lifted, your thighs press down against your chest. When you force your eyes open, you watch Sylus throw his head back, his brows furrowed, eyes closed. Equal parts bliss and agony. You squeeze around his length and he groans, low and deep as he spills into you. He drops his hands from the back of your thighs to the counter and hangs his head, breathing heavily. You awkwardly sit up, your lower half is coated in your shared release and… significantly more sore than when you woke up. When your arms coil around his neck he unsheathes himself and gathers you in his arms, holding you impossibly close. He kisses the shell of your ear, his hot breath making you shiver.

“You made such a mess sweetie…”

You try to look down, but he just picks you up and carries you out of the kitchen.

“I’ll clean that up later, you’re my priority right now.” 

As he turns the corner you see the floor is wet and the remnants of the shattered plate. You’re a fucking doctor, the fact it took a you the entire distance from the kitchen to Sylus’s bedroom to figure out you squirted is just embarrassing. 

“Oh my god…”

Sylus chuckles and carries you right into his bathroom and into the shower. He doesn’t put you down, just tightens his hold as he turns on the water and lets the warm water flow over your back. You slump forward, letting your arms hang limp against his back, your head on his shoulder. He sways, the steam fogging the glass around you.

“You’re getting a lot of my firsts, I hope you know that.”

He carefully lowers you, leaning you back against the wall to let you gain your footing. When he steps back to get soap you finally take a moment to just stare at his naked form. Toned, dark lines of ink with swirls of vibrant scarlet covering his arms, his back, his chest, the dusting of hair along his happy trail, and oh - great, he even has a perky ass. Sylus clears his throat and you look up to see him watching you over his shoulder. 

“Like what you see?”

You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. He begins lathering the fragrant soap over your arms, pulling them away from your chest. His eyes drink you in and drift as his hands roam. 

“I like what I see too… you’re… exquisite.”

He continues to clean you gently, but his lips find yours again. There’s no rush with how he kisses you, or touches you for that matter. Like he’s savoring every moment and every point of contact is sacred. You still have a million questions, but none of them seem important right now. You’ve never felt so… happy. 

“When do you go back to work?” He mumbles against your lips.

“New Years Eve and New Years Day… after that, I’m off for another week.”

He smiles into the kiss, his hands massaging your hips. 

“Good… I hope you don’t have any plans.” 🏍️۶ৎ🩺

Translations: "Malen'kiy chelovek, ukhodi." -> "Little man, go away." "Malen'kiy chelovek umret." -> "Little man will die." “Bol'shoy chelovek, zatknis' nakhuy.” -> "Big man, shut the fuck up." "Malen'kiy chelovek ne sootvetstvuyet legende." -> "The little man does not live up to the legend."

Part One Part Two

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[midnghtprentiss]

yours - jack abbot x f!doctor!reader

a/n: this is for “ a doctor day” which i am so happy to be a part of. it took me some time to think about something cool but i tried my best to work with this prompt. so i really really really hope you enjoy it as much as me. i tried to be subtle about the color cause in my head it means something really bigger. 

a big thank you to @letsgobarbs @ananonymousaffair @clubsoft for creating this project!!!

prompt: The nights feel dull and tasteless without you, I try to get through them but they seem so endless.

color: pink.

word count: +3k

Everything started with an offer for you to go teach at a hospital in London. You were so excited, it was your dream since medical school and you’ve worked hard to experience the things you always wanted. It started small: residency, then you got masters and a doctorate. The job offer wasn’t out of the blue, they were watching your every move, gluing to the details of your incredible brain. 

You loved working at the ED, the adrenaline, the sight of doing something good and to actually do what you loved. You found valuable things there: friends, family and love. You found Jack there. He was your rock, the biggest supporter you could ever get and he couldn’t get in the way of you getting what you always wanted. The moment you told him what they offered he knew being selfish would kill him and letting you go would kill him either. 

The breakup was clean with a lot of tears and feelings. Too many words were said meaning the same thing: you loved him and he loved you more than anyone. 

“Will you miss me?” You whispered, cuddled with him. 

“Every day til you come back to me.” He smelled your hair, pulling you closer. 

So he let you go, even if meant to put his plans on stand by. The house, the ring, the children. He would wait and so did you. 

The day you left was the day he lost himself in his own mind. Jack was quieter, more introspective and a little sadder, Robby pointed out for Dana once. He was still capable of doing his job, of course he was. But you weren’t there to help him, to make funny remarks about him or to share a candy bar when the chaos finally stopped. You weren’t there for him to take you home, in fact, you were making yourself a home somewhere else that wasn’t with him. 

He was terrified of you meeting another person that could easily erase him from your mind. The idea of you marrying someone else haunted him more often than he could admit. He would never forgive himself if the children of another man had the eyes of the girl he couldn’t forget - his girl.

You stopped talking to each other as a silent agreement. It was easy to do your jobs if the anxiety of someone waiting for the call or text wasn’t on your mind all the time. Suddenly three months became three years and the lump in your throat, the knot in Jack’s chest, got loose. 

The countless nights you almost called him to hear his voice or text to know how he was doing, if he was eating, sleeping and trying to be a normal person. Jack almost did the same too. He dialed your number and gave up, he wrote you letters and a journal to inform you about how he was dealing with the distance.

You moved on, made friends, got yourself a home with the things you only dreamed off before and got your shit together. You were a really popular name among the medical teaching. You did some impressive research, amazing experiments and innovations on the field, especially on emergency education, the top of your field. Jack watched you from afar the whole time, he read your papers, he watched your online classes, he did everything to keep you close to him. And he waited patiently for you. 

Pitt was watching you again, they needed someone like you to teach new doctors on the night shift and to take the hospital to the next level, so they offered you another deal. 

You accepted right away. No questions asked. 

Your first call was to Robby and Dana, you decided to let them know you were coming back to work at the hospital again. They were really happy, especially Dana for getting her coffee partner back. You thought about texting Jack, but the uncertain feeling if we ever wanted to hear about you again made you tremble with fear, so you didn’t. Perhaps he already knew you were coming back. 

He did. 

The cold Pittsburg breeze brought back the familiar memories once again. The laughter, the tears, the pain and the comfort. You needed that so bad, you almost didn’t feel the moisture on your cheeks and your heavy breathing. 

Nothing like home, right?

You got into the hospital fifteen minutes before your shift started. You were overjoyed to be there surrounded by so many familiar faces. Princess and Perlah were the first ones to see you, for a fraction of seconds you almost missed their hugs. 

“You are so back! Thank God.” Princess held you tighter, shaking you in her arms. 

“I’m so glad to be back.” They let you go and you went straight to the nursing station, catching Robby and Dana’s attention. 

“I can’t believe my eyes.” Robby’s words made you blush, embracing them. “We missed you here, London.” 

“London?” You questioned him with eyebrows raised. 

“Only the best of us came back, I’m glad you did.” Dana whispered, kissing your temple. 

“I can’t wait to see you making these guys peed in their pants.” 

“It’s going to be a pleasure to make them fear me.” Robby gasped, making you laugh a little louder. 

The nurses joined in for a warm hug and some small talk, even Garcia showed up to see you and you were really surprised to find out she’s literally dating a girl from the residency. She just mouthed you that you talk more later and moved back to the OR. You really missed those people and suddenly life was so much better and lighter. 

He was watching everything from the other side of the room. His heart filled with something he couldn’t give a name right away. You looked different in his eyes. Maybe your hair, your bone structure, your cheeks. He didn’t know. Still the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.  You were there, so close to him and he was paralyzed. Frozen in his own world. 

Jack spent nights imagining how he would react when you come back, how he would take you in his arms and forget the rest about the rest, kiss your face and plead you to not walk away ever again, to make his arms home once more. But you were right there and he lost his ability to move and be a fucking person. 

You caught his eyes and gave him a shy smile. Not going straight to him, giving the time you knew he was going to need before doing something else and besides, you were so involved with the crew that for a millisecond you forgot about the butterfly in your stomach almost making you throw up there. 

He wasn’t ready to talk to you. Not yet. Jack heard the rumors, he knew you’ll be back soon to be in the hospital again. Same shift, same people, different you, different him. He hated the change. At the same time, he needed to have you right over there next to him to make sure you weren’t going anywhere far from him. His mind was racing with millions of things and most of them were about you.

By the time the shift started, you were already with the students, talking about your work and what you expect them to do and learned from you. They noticed how smillish and nice you seem just for the way you lead them through the trauma bay introducing one by one to the team. First Shen, who was too energetic by your return to stop talking and then Ellis, who were all sweet and great with everybody else. Bridget couldn’t keep her hands to herself, hugging you in all the opportunities she had. And then Jack, he was serious the whole time, shaking the students hands and quickly looking at you. 

“This is the night shift crew. If I’m not around you can always ask them for help. Doctor Shen is the sweetest person here but you don’t want to piss him off. Dr. Ellis is an amazing teacher if you want to learn something and I’m pretty sure you want to, again guys, don’t piss her off.” You took a deep breath and looked at him. “This is doctor Abbot, he is the best trauma surgeon here and if I were you, I’ll try to be nice to him, he’s a surprise box to solve problems and rage Dr. Walsh.”

You tried your best to focus on them, ignoring his hot gaze on your face, reading you microexpressions like it was his newspaper. His presence made you overwhelmed enough to stumble in a few words. They introduced themselves to them and led them to the patients they were looking for at night. 

Jack liked the new version of you. Confident, smarter, better. Watching you teach was absolutely incredible, you delivered everything without problems, making these kids really think and understand what took him years to do. The more he looked, the more he wanted to take you home and forget about the three years you were gone. 

“Want a picture, Abbot?” You teased him, leaning against the counter with a tablet in hand. 

“If looking at a pretty thing is a crime put me in the fucking jail.” He crossed his arms, locking your gaze. 

“Good to know your taste hasn't changed.” 

“We’re talking about something really serious and I don’t play about anything that revolves around you.” He admitted, coming closer to where you were. “You were missed around here.” 

“I missed being here too.” Your words sounded like a whisper as he was getting closer. 

“We need to talk.” Jack held your arm, softly caressing your skin. 

“Abbot’s pancakes?” 

“You’re still bossy, wow.” He would do whatever you asked. “Whatever you want, gorgeous.” 

“Asshole.” You dismissed him, going the other way shaking your head. 

The next hours felt like you’ve never gone away for three years. The crew was the same you remembered but better and your tiredness didn’t turn out to be an issue. At 07 am you were pretty awake, the adrenaline was making you excited and you couldn’t stop moving around the room. 

You spent at least twenty minutes explaining about your patients to the day crew before really leaving the ER. It was a great day for you, the familiar taste of doing what you love with people you love made your heart ache with happiness. You were glad to be there again. 

Jack was waiting for you at the parking lot, hands in his pockets and eyes on you. You approached him slowly, stopping a few steps away. He watched your face with a discreet smirk, shaking his head. 

He followed you to your car, making sure you were safe enough to drive to his house - the same one you shared for almost two years. The unease on your chest was making you almost throw up in your car. You parked in the driveway, watching the house from the outside for a while. He was still watching you, he couldn’t stop himself from that. 

The small garden you cultivated was still intact, the pink flowers you loved and a few other plants that weren’t there before. He took care of the garden religiously for you. That was his way of hoping you come back to him. You walked towards the entrance slowly, capturing the details you missed while away. Jack finally put the swing on the front porch, like you planned on doing to make the house seem more cozy. 

“I thought it would be nice to sit here sometimes to watch the neighborhood.” He mentioned and opened the door for you. 

The inside was the same you remembered. The picture frames, the decoration. He changed some furniture but the rest looked the same. He still kept the picture of you two above the fireplace with the same flowers you used to put there. In your heed, when he did those things brought him some hope to believe you were coming back to him.

“You still buy the flowers?” You asked, turning your face to look at him. 

“Every wednesday at the farmers market.” He nodded, walking to the kitchen. 

Everything looked the same, like you never left. Even the cinnamon smell you absolutely loved lingered in the air. 

The kitchen was absolutely your favorite place in the house. You got to spend hours sitting at the table doing your shit or just baking whatever came to your head, sipping tea and being loved. Jack had the perfect vision from the living room when you were in the kitchen. He never told you but he had a lot of pictures of you sitting there existing like you’re the only God he believed. 

He served you some coffee and went back to the other side of the counter, putting the ingredients to do the pancakes you asked. The comfortable silence was pleasant, reminding you of the morning you shared in the same way: him doing the breakfast and you enjoying the view. 

“How was London? Last time I heard you were the chief of the trauma department there.” Jack was trying his best to avoid the topic he needed to talk about. 

“It was good. Cold, rainy and absolutely no pancakes.” You joked, crossing your arms over the table. “I had a good time, did things I only dreamed of, taught a lot of people and got to travel a bit.” 

“You traveled? Where did you go?” He seemed interested. 

“I went to visit Greece, did a tour around Italy with a couple of friends, my nephews came to visit me during winter and we went skiing in Switzerland.” You sipped more coffee, smiling at the memories. “I went to a safari, Jack!” Your words slipped in a funny way and he recognized how happy you were. “You would’ve loved that.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Suddenly he stopped in his tracks to finally watch you. 

You appeared relaxed, leaning against the chair, hair messed in a bun, jacket already off and barefoot. Looking like an absolute dream. Like the love of his life. 

“I missed you, you know? A lot.” You admitted, looking away from him. “I almost called you so many times and never had the courage to do it.” 

“I would’ve picked on the first ring.” He chuckled, mixing the ingredients trying to not stare for too long. “I wrote you some letters and a journal.” 

“You did?” Jack nodded, making you smile larger. “I may have taken some pictures of things and places that reminded me of you and kept them on an album to give to you. I hope you enjoy the crazy selfies and the endless comments on the people.” He laughed, picturing the scenes. 

He took his time to finish the pancakes, putting them on the table and sitting across from you with his cup of coffee. The dynamics between you haven’t changed at all, he still knew what you needed before you asked and you still read his face with ease. 

“I thought I had lost you forever.” Jack declared, making you stop. “The day I let you go was the worst day of my life, I felt so powerless and selfish. I couldn’t be the reason you give up your dreams because they were in you before I was present in your life and being the motive of your unhappiness was going to kill me.” You felt your stomach drop. “The nights feel dull and tasteless without you, I try to get through them but they seem so endless. The night shift sucked without you there, our bed was cold, I barely slept thinking about you.”

“The idea of you finding somebody else and deciding to marry and have children.” He didn’t continue and you held his hand. 

“Jack, I am yours and yours only.” You squeezed his hand. “I spent a few weeks crying before bed, wanting to run back to you. The day I went on that plane I left a piece of my heart with you. The life we were building, the plans, the marriage, the children.” You mumbled with tears, chuckling. “Never crossed my mind doing those things with anybody else. It’s always been you and it’s always gonna be. Besides, European guys are not that attractive.” His jaw tensed and you burst out laughing. “I’m just messing with you.” 

“I hate this.” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Whatever you say, honey.” You winked, giggling under your breath. 

“Does this mean we can start over?” He asked, holding your gaze. 

“Always, Jack.” You smiled. 

That’s how after breakfast you ended up moving back to your place. The countless boxes with your stuff, bags filled with clothes and your favorite book collection around his living room. You were tired but nothing like the feeling of being home with him. Jack sent you to sleep a while later, finding you curled in his side of the bed, holding his pillow to smell his scent. 

He enjoyed the quietness of the morning to go through the album you made him. Pink cover with some shells and his name in gold letters. On the first page he found a small note you wrote. 

“To Jack.  I hope you know I thought about you a lot and these memories are an extension of my endless love for you.  Love, your girl.”

He couldn't contain a smile with the note, sighing as he passed to the next pages. The first real picture was you outside the hospital in London, bright smile, fearless, beautiful as ever. The note under the picture made him giggle, flushed.  

“You wished me good day before I took this. It was in fact a good day ‘cause I imagined you with me all the time.”

He kept passing the pages, amused by the great photos and the small remarks that sounded too much like you. His favorite was one of you sitting at the safari cart, wearing a pink cap, caressing a giraffe with one hand and with the other showing the necklace he gifted you a few years ago, the largest smile he’d ever seen, eyes shining and cheeks red from laughing. A look he recognized damn well. What made the picture even better was the small text. 

“I was in the safari in this. When theguide was tooking the picture the fucking lion roared next to the cart, almost peed my pants. Definitely not like Lion King, Disney lied to us. The cap was a gift from a child at the village I visited, he said it was to protect me and I truly believed in his words. The necklace is to represent you with me there and the giraffe, well, I’m in love. You would’ve loved this trip. I want to come back with you. Honeymoon maybe?”  Love, your (not so) wild girl.” 

He saw fragments of yourself, a version he was glad you enjoyed while doing the things you loved and still think about him so highly. He didn’t deserve you. Jack would never admit that you’re the light of his life, the shining star that guides him home every time he feels lost. 

You were exactly where you’re supposed to be. 

In his life, in his home, his bed, laying in his sheets with your favorite pink pajamas, being absolutely his. 

[maskedbyghost]

Possessive reader has had partners before Simon, yeah? Don't suppose any of them are the same flavor of 'mine mine mine' regarding her? Cuz if so, Simon's gonna need to clean up those loose ends. Can't have them thinking they can try and object at the inevitable wedding like some kind of Hallmark movie!

Omg YES. The reader definitely has an ex or two still a little hung up on her, because let’s be honest, someone that obsessed, that intense, that ride-or-die? She’s not exactly forgettable.

You didn’t even react when the text came in. You barely glanced at your phone, just rolled your eyes, and went right back to folding laundry like it wasn’t worth your energy.

But Simon saw it. You knew he saw it because he stopped what he was doing, leaned over, and picked your phone up off the bed without even asking.

“Who’s that?” he asked, even though he was already reading it.

You shrugged. “Some guy I used to fuck around with before I met you. He’s been blocked since last year, so I guess he found a new number.”

Simon didn’t answer. Just stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the message.

You still with that guy? You deserve someone who actually sees how good you are. You know where to find me.

You didn’t even try to explain. What was there to say? You’d deleted that man like an app you forgot existed. Gone. Done. But Simon wasn’t looking at you—he was still staring at your phone, his jaw tight.

You sat back on your knees, watching him. “Don’t get quiet. You know I don’t give a shit about him.”

“I know,” he muttered, his tone calm. “But he doesn’t.”

That’s when he tapped a few things. Deleted the message, blocked the number again. Same way you would have. Except he held your phone for another minute after that, just looking at it. Not saying a word.

Then he handed it back and stood up like nothing happened. “I’ll take the trash out,” he said, heading toward the kitchen. Which was weird, because there was no trash. Not in the actual bin, anyway.

You tilted your head. “You mean metaphorically or—?”

“Both,” he called back.

And that was that. You didn’t ask, you didn’t need to.

You knew Simon wouldn’t do anything stupid, but you also knew he had a way of handling shit when it pissed him off enough. Not like you—loud, mouthy, dramatic, always saying shit like mine mine mine until he groans and tells you you’re a menace while literally pulling you closer.

But him? He didn’t need to scream. Didn’t need to threaten. All he had to do was decide something—and then it was done.

Still, later that night, you were sprawled across his lap, phone in hand, scrolling for something to watch, when you decided to poke the bear a little.

“Y’know,” you said casually, “if some idiot tried to object at our wedding, I’d probably laugh in his face and then throw my shoe at him.”

Simon didn’t even look up from where he was rubbing slow circles into your hip. “Wouldn’t get the chance.”

You smirked. “Why? ‘Cause you’d handle it?”

“No,” he said, finally glancing up at you. “Because anyone that stupid won’t make it to the wedding.”

You stared at him for a second.

Then you leaned in real close, grinning like the psycho you are. “God, I fucking love you.”

He kissed you hard, like he was trying to remind you he was just as gone for you as you were for him.

“Yeah?” he muttered, breath hot against your lips. “Then quit stressin’ about shit that’s already handled.”

And you did. Because you knew—anyone who still thought they had a shot with you? They didn’t anymore. Simon made sure of that.

Not because he was jealous. But because you were his just as loudly and unshakably as he was yours. And anyone who didn’t get the memo?

They’d be lucky to walk away with a warning.

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

this was the last request i had sitting in my inbox for these two, so if y’all want more unhinged possessive nonsense, you’re gonna have to ask, i’m always down to write more of them, just need ideas to work with. you know where to find me <333

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @xiisblogs

[spacedace]

I've seen the concept of Jason being adopted by various people other than Bruce while he was still a little tire stealing Crime Ally kid a few times, but I've yet to see anyone put forth the idea of Duke and his family taking him in.

Like, depending on the continuity Jason and Duke are only like 4 or 5 years apart in age, and we know for a fact that Duke was a terrifyingly brilliant kid already shaping up to be able to take down the Riddler in a battle of wits at the age of 9. Now throw in protective older brother Jason into that mix who didn't think twice about trying to steal the tires off the Batmobile and then try and hit Batman with a damn tire iron when he was caught.

Just imagine how terrifying it would be with the two of them growing up constantly feeding each other's unhinged Fight God and the Devil in a Waffle House Parking Lot at 3am and Win energy. Imagine the chaos they would cause. The terror they would strike into the hearts of their enemies- all before Duke ever even gor his powers.

They would be unstoppable. Just a pair of two of the smartest motherfuckers you've ever met who know they're smarter than you, and the only thing sharper than their minds are their vicious verbal take downs.

Also I just have the imagine in my head of Doug Thomas, half asleep early one Saturday morning stumbling into the kitchen after following the smell of breakfast to see his 8 year old son happily stuffing the most delicious looking pancakes imaginable into his mouth. Blinking in confusion as he realizes it's not his beloved wife cooking but some scrawny kid in worn out clothes, covered in engine grease and bruises manning the stove like a seasoned line cook - complete with the most foul mouthed swearing even Doug, a construction worker, has ever heard in his life and a cigarette tucked behind the kids ear.

And Doug has a moment where he's just staring, full on Who's Goddamn White Baby is That? when Duke pipes up to explain:

"This is Jason! I caught him trying to steal your catalytic converter this morning. His mom's dead and his dad is a deadbeat so he's gonna stay with us now!"

And oh. Well. Shit. He knows that look in his son's eye. Knows he's already lost the fight before it evan began. It looks like it's theirs. It's their god damn white baby now.

He's gonna have to call Elaine.

(Elaine, for her part, goes through the full range of human emotions when she gets home to realize that the boy Duke has decided they're adopting is the Todd boy Elaine has been trying to track down for months now.

She's Jason's social worker, not that she's been able to really do her job and help him when he's managed to stay under the radar of every single vaguely responsible adult in a ten mile radius. The one time he had been picked up by one of the few decent cops in the city and Elaine thought she was going to be able to finally finally help him, Jason had managed to climb out of a window of the precinct bathroom and disappear into the night.

He'd managed to steal the hubcaps of six different patrol vehicles while he was at it. Just to rub it in that there was nothing they could do to stop him.

Point was, the kid has been her damn white whale for almost a year. And now she walks into her home after a maddening unhelpful phone call with Doug about needing paperwork to adopt a child only to find the boy she'd spent so long looking for teaching Duke how to take apart and reassemble their toaster in the living room.

She isn't sure if she wants to laugh or cry.

She is sure that there's no way she's going to be able to convince Duke that they can't just adopt his new friend, not when she can tell that both boys have already gotten attached to each other in the scarce few hours they've known one other. Or when her husband is just sitting there eating delicious pancakes with such resignation in his eyes.)

[lsdchris]

one timing it with chris.

to no one’s surprise, you weren’t really sure how you got in this position. a regular conversation about feeling pent up turned into a heated make-out session, and that make out session inevitably landed you here: chris holding up your legs from between them as he pumped into you steadily.

despite the overwhelming pleasure each thrust made wave through you, your consciousness still stirred inside. i mean, he had a girlfriend for fucks sake – you had a boyfriend. “w- shit… shouldn’t be doing this,” you managed, already fucked out from his talented strokes.

chris thrusted into you a little harder at that, angling himself in a way that forced a mewl to tumble out. “you fer real gonna tell me that now?” he asked in a mocking tone, hand slapping your thigh lightly to keep your attention on him when he saw your eyes rolling back.

“m’sorry!” you cried out, hand reaching up to grip his pillow for grounding as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

your mouth formed an o shape, chris’ dick filling you up, nudging against your sweet spot every time without fail. “watchu sorry for?” he asked, amused by the way your inner turmoil faded with each brush of his dick. shit, his nickname was be magic chris back in high school for a reason.

“tellin’ me we shouldn’t be doin’ this when i’m already inside these guts,” he sneered with a quiet ‘tsk’, still fucking you without so much as a stutter of his hips.

“you’re already moanin’ like crazy all over this dick, so just let shit happen how it happens, mk?” he added, though you already decided long ago you didn’t care anymore, letting yourself bask in the pleasure while it lasted, “s’only a one time thing… enough to get rid of this tension, and we’re good.”

author’s note. repost cos it flopped bad and i don’t have time to write sumn new.

[evilminji]

Okay, but? I just thought of the funniest/best crackship/rare-not-pair?

Tianlang-jun+Su Xiyan+Shen Jiu+Shen Yuan

As in yes, the Shen TWINS. Who? Probably weren't/aren't twins? Like? Shen Yuan definitely just sorta shows up out of now where? Hauled back to the Sect by Shen Jiu, who DEFINITELY was an only child the last anyone knew of it, from like... a night hunt or visit to town? And he's like...

"Found a weird plant."/"Qi deviation"/"Killed a malicious blue window spirit. Possibly a god."

No, he will not explain. This is HIS now. No one look at HIS brother. He's keeping him.

Like? Yeah, they can kinda SEE that, Shen-shixiong. Maybe relax the death gri-? *feral street kid territorial hissing* MOTHER FUCK! Yue-shixiong! Come get your nightmare!!! He's biting! AND MULTIPLIED!

At least? The new one? Seems very nice?

.....naive, almost...

T-too nice....

Okay, they can see why Shen-shixiong was worried. The Fairies of Cang Qiong collectively side eye each other, nod, and agree to cut-a-fucker if anyone tries to Lewd the Baby. No wonder Shen-shixiong is vibrating with aggression and stress.

And like? Somehow? Hiding them on the women's only (with only the exceptions WE allow) peak? Cuts down on Shen-shixiong's infamous brothel trips? Like he still GOES, but it's more "visits with occasional stays" and less "constant stays over night"?

.......waaaaait a second.....

*turns around and actually looks at what he's doing on their peak, which is sleeping while girls chat and play music around him as his brother does someone's hair near-by*

Motherfu-! Shen-shixiong is a prettyboy! Brothels are full of women and have GUARDS! Of COURSE! Is he even SAFE on Qing Jing?! *furious note comparing with each other as dots start to come together*

Like? His reputation is still SHIT. Shen Jiu is still "the lecher" to outsiders and jealous men who CAN NOT comprehend being surrounded, constantly, by gorgeous women for any other reason then sex. But like? The Fairy peak knows. He's their bitchy martial uncle. The "Never marry and all men are bastards" uncle. The "Will tear a person's soul out and feed it to them, if they cross him or us" uncle.

You can totally hide behind him and go Nyeyeyeye~ >:P at someone and he'll still side with you if you do it sparingly enough. It's GREAT.

Of course, this would get Qi-shemei and Lui-shixiong fighting. Because Lui-shixiong is listening to his peak mates, who are PERVERTS. And are slandering the Shen's, INCLUDING their wittle baby A-yuan(!!!), by suggesting they are-! ARE-! *furious martial sister seething*

Shen Jiu decides? Discretion is the better part of Valor here. Night hunt time. Let's go, brother. I'll even let you look at the beast before I kill it.

They stop in town. Near the Guady Assholes territory. Shen Yuan would like to peruse the book sellers. Indulge his favorite hobby... ripping apart the plot of Bad Books. He is, after all, a bit of a hate reader at heart. He gets his "allowance" (what am I, a child?) (Yes.) (BROTHER!) and wanders off....

Oh! OH? A Most Handsome Man?! He looks like Luo Binghe fanart made real! But slutty and more playful? Rougish. N-not that he NOTICES such things! Because he is very straight. Only girls.

Tianlang-jun? Meets a cute book buddy while waiting for his girlfriend. He got them big ol startled baby animal eyes. Tears apart books like he's gripped them in his teeth and mauled until the books entrails fell out. VERY fun to tease! Hey, Yan-er~♡? How about a third?

*Su Xiyan looks Shen Yuan up and down, sees the clueless Bambi eyed/easily flustered blink, and kinda wants to ruin him*

Oh FUCK NO! Says Shen Jiu! Crashing onto the seen. His "someone is trying to lewd my not-a-brother-but-you-cant-prove-that senses" a tingling. BeGONE, harlots! You degenerates! You-! YOU-! SEX HAVERS!!!!

Well now... what a high stressed, vicious, mean, bitchy, highly competent yet pathetic little man...

*dual interest noises*

So begins there chasing the Shens. Shen Yuan going "idk, maybe we should-" and Shen Jiu going "DO NOT! Don't make eye contact! Don't BREATHE in their direction! Their sex having kind need NO ENCOURAGEMENT."

And? The Old Palace Master? Slowly but surely losing his SHIT.

Because? It's ONE thing, which is bad enough, to lose his Pwecious Su Xiyan to another. But to lose her to THREE? People are TALKING! Whispering! Suggesting she's a DEGENERATE! When EVERYONE knows it's that Shen Jiu boy! And that DEMON.

And!!! The BEST part of this Ship? The SINGLE BEST part?! Is!

WHO'S HAREM IS IT~?

Su Xiyan? The only woman? The clear "Top Energy" Queen of this whole polycule? Only one with the people skill, ruthlessness, AND common sense? Does she have a harem of pretty boys?

Or is it Tianlang-jun? The obvious choice? What with being the Demon Emperor. Did he just... decide he has a thing for Cultivators? Picked a pretty empress and a pair of twins on the side?

Shen Jiu? Is his beauty/seductiveness/lewdness THAT powerful? That he would somehow hook not only his own brother? But a HEAD DISCIPLE? And the EMPEROR OF ALL DEMON KIND?! He IS said to be a strategist...

Or the quiet dark horse, Shen YUAN? Mysterious past, beauty that hits you like a punch to the gut. Kinda makes you want to throw your life at his feet and beg him to take it. Wifebeams. Wife beams EVERYWHERE. Truely, only the most powerful could defend a place at his side.

Again, the Shen's aren't related. Shen Yuan Transmigrated. Shen Jui was just like "hey, thanks gods. I WILL take this Free Twin. Mine now! You are literally never getting this back!" After most likely SUPER MEGA DEATH murdering the System for trying to kill him. Shen Yuan's body is a construct. It might not even be human.

But they DO look alike! And since when has Shen Jiu ever explain SHIT?

@mayfay @legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @hdgnj

[not-delusional-at-all]

Wrong Name pt. 5

MDNI 18+

Ghost x femreader

CW: cheating, stalking?

Links to pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

I think this is the last part and it's a pretty long one. Thank you all for your support and for reading. I really appreciate it 💖🫶

The rest of the day after you had somewhat accused your boyfriend of cheating was tense and awkward. You don't believe he's cheating, but he doesn't believe that your ex-boyfriend broke into his car and planted shit to start a fight between the two of you.

He doesn't believe Simon did it because there's no sign of a break in on his car. There's no pry marks or anything. He believes that you put stuff in his car and messed with the seat to do a Tiktok trend or something.

You brought up the point that you would have had your phone out to film if that were the case but he wasn't budging. That's his firm belief.

You haven't brought it up with him since that day because it would likely just start an argument. But you can't stop thinking about it.

Your brain keeps telling you to unblock Simon and talk to him about this because you know for sure that it was him and you're not about to let him or your boyfriend make you feel crazy.

You know it's probably not the wisest idea to unblock him and contact him but you don't think he's gonna stop at planting stuff in your boyfriend's car. You don't know what else he'll do but you don't want to find out.

After thinking about it for a few days after the incident with your boyfriend's car, you decided to unblock Simon.

There was so much but so little that you wanted to say to him. The very thought of speaking with him pissed you off- maybe it's because you're still rightfully upset that he cheated on you and you had to find out during sex.

You sent just a simple text. You stated who you were and told him to call you. It felt like an eternity before he read the text but it was only about ten minutes.

After the text showed that it was read, you almost immediately got a call from him. You let it ring for a few seconds before answering it because you weren't sure you wanted to answer it.

"Simon" you spoke into the phone. You didn't feel like he deserved the courtesy of a 'hello'. The line remained silent for a few moments before either one of you spoke up.

"We need to talk" you told him. You heard him sigh from his side of the call.

"Alright, love-" he replied.

"Do not call me that" you cut him off. You're not going to let him manipulate you with pet names and terms of endearment.

"Okay... What is it you want to talk about?" He asked, sounding a little irritated that you're coming at him with an attitude and he's barely said a word.

"I think this is a conversation best had in person" you told him. Simon didn't know what you wanted to talk about but he couldn't help but jump up and down with glee in his head.

"Alright, are you free now?" He asked.

"Yeah... I am" you replied.

"Can we meet at our old spot?" He asked. He was talking about the restaurant you two would go to weekly on your date nights. It wasn't anywhere fancy but the food is delicious.

"Yeah, sure. Meet me there in like twenty minutes" you told him before hanging up.

You didn't know if you should tell your boyfriend about this meeting but regardless, you're going and you're not telling him until after if you do end up telling him.

You got to the restaurant and waited impatiently. He showed up to the restaurant right at the agreed upon time. Not a second late.

"Simon" you spoke. He was smiling. You wanted to smack it off of his face.

"You look beautiful" he spoke. You held back an eye roll.

"Don't." You stated, making it clear that you don't want his compliments. He sat down across from you. The air around you was tense and you wanted nothing more than to yell at him and go off on him but you're in public and you're not about to make a scene.

"Why did you want to meet?" He asked. He was hoping that you were wanting to reconcile but that's the last thing you want to do with him.

"Why did you break into my boyfriend's car?" You asked, cutting straight to the chase. You wanted to get this over with, you didn't feel like beating around the bush at all.

"That's a bold accusation, love" he chuckled. 'fuck' he thought to himself 'she's figured it out'.

"Answer the question, Simon" you insisted. He remained silent for a moment to try to dig himself out of this.

"What would make you think that I would do such a thing?" He asked. Even though his face was showing no emotion, you could still see the mild panic in his eyes. You could see that he was trying to find ways to get you off of his trail.

"Quit deflecting. Answer the question." You insisted again. He bit his lip as he searched for another excuse.

"Simon, I know it was you that planted hair ties and the tube of lipgloss that I lost at your place a year or two ago. Fess up or I'm going to force it out of you" you told him, breaking the silence. You didn't know how you would force it from him, you hadn't thought that far. For some reason you thought he was gonna immediately say that it was him and that was that.

"I don't know what you're talking 'bout. Maybe your boyfriend is cheating on you" he shrugged. You rolled your eyes.

"Simon, I'm going to ask you one more time. Why did you break into my boyfriend's car? I know it was you. If you don't admit it, I will make your life a living hell" you asked, your jaw was clenched and you were getting more and more pissed off with every second that passed.

"Already living in hell, love" he smirked. You saw red when you saw his smirk. You wanted to slap it off of his stupid face.

"Simon, answer the fucking question!" You continued to press, raising your voice which earned a few stares from other patrons. Simon knew you were gonna end up causing a scene and getting them kicked out if he kept stalling and deflecting.

"Lower your voice. Yes, I did break into your... Boyfriend's car" he spoke quietly. It almost seemed like it pained him to refer to your boyfriend as your boyfriend.

"Why?" You questioned. You wanted to know what the fuck was going through his head. You wanted to know how he knew what car your boyfriend drove and where to find it. There were so many things you wanted to know.

"Wanted you to break up with him" he shrugged. He spoke so nonchalantly as if it was a normal thing to do, as if this was just something he did on a regular basis.

"What the fuck?" Was all you could say. You thought that since he was quiet, he was living his own life and not sticking his nose into other people's business.

"Had to get you back somehow. Needed you to break up with him 'fore you got all attached to him" he explained. Your eye twitched. It took everything within you not to blow up.

"Simon, I'm only going to tell you this once. There is no more us. There will never be an us again. You screwed that up when you cheated on me. I don't want you anymore. I don't love you anymore. You need to move on and live your life. If I find out that you're trying to sabotage my relationship again, I will contact the police and report you for harassment" you told him, your voice dangerously low.

"Fine." He huffed.

"Good." You said, getting up and leaving him at the table. You didn't want to see his face for any longer than you needed to. You're so disgusted and shocked that he would do something like this.

He knew you would make good on your promise if he kept on trying to destroy your relationship. He's not afraid of the police or a little restraining order or even jail.

He was afraid of this coming back to Price. His team had no clue he had a girlfriend let alone one that he cheated on. He didn't want his military career destroyed over this.

His heart was shattered but he was still holding out hope that maybe you'll change your mind one day. He fucked up the one good thing he had in his life and he's almost certain he's never gonna get it back.

Taglist: @beautifuleaglealpaca @skeletonsucker

[alwayssassydreamer]

Make Me Forget

A/N: song request by my friend Sarah - I know you said you were fine with sfw but that song just doesn't give me sfw vibes 😅😝 hope you like it

Fuck away the pain, erase him from your brain Fake it like you love me, come on, baby, touch me Show me where it hurts this dirty little curse Don't have to be ashamed if you wanna scream my name While I fuck away the pain

Summary: your ex screwed you over and now you need a distraction and Beckman gladly assists you

Warnings: hurt, nsfw, oral (receiving), p in v, age gap, MDNI ⚠️🔞

Characters: Beckman x FReader

P.S. somehow adding the Song doesn't work 😠 but it's called "Fuck Away The Pain by Divide the Day

It was late evening in a dimly lit, somewhat rowdy bar by the docks. The smell of salt and sea mixed with the tang of rum, laughter, and shouts blending into a chaotic melody.

You sat at the counter, shoulders tense and fingers gripping a half-empty glass. Your mind kept replaying that fucking asshole together with that whore and his words - cold, final, cutting deeper than any blade.

You downed the drink, wincing as the alcohol burns, but the ache in your chest remains. You were trying to drown it out, drown him out. But it wasn't working.

Three fucking years and he, he fucked around behind your back with every girl that would open her legs for him.

Damn bastard. How could you be so blind?

Fucking asshole hopefully he gets stabbed in a dark alley.

Piece of shit.

But tonight you were here to forget to let go, to find a distraction. Though the selection in this bar was rather ugh - a man with barely any teeth left, another one that reeked - of hell you didn't want to know what that was and another one looked so green that he would probably pass out before you could get a shot.

You had planned on letting lose have a good time, forget your ex but the clientele here was not helping.

Great.

Well then you had to go over to plan b - get fucking drunk.

But before you could order the next drink a shadow fell over you and a very handsome and attractive man sat down at the counter next to you.

Damn what a hot dilf.

He leaned casually against the counter, cigarette between his lips, gaze sharp but somehow soft when it landed on you. He didn't say anything at first, just ordered a drink, his deep voice resonating through the noise.

When his eyes met yours again, there was something knowing in them, like he’s seen your type of pain before.

"You look like you’re trying to forget something," he remarked, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness. "Or someone."

You felt a mix of irritation and curiosity rise up inside you as you glanced at the man. Of course, this random guy would think he could see through your bullshit, but there was something about him, something about that knowing look, that made you hesitate for a moment before you scoffed and looked back at your glass.

"What’s it to you?" you muttered, more bitterly than you intended. But you didn’t care. You were not here to make friends or to talk.

His lips curled slightly, as if he was amused by your defensive tone, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he just exhaled a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette and turned his attention back to the bartender, casually placing another order.

When his eyes flicked back to yours, they were unreadable, as if he was sizing you up, deciding if you’d be worth his time. "Just wondering if you’d be more fun if you weren’t so angry," he replied, almost in a whisper, yet the words seemed to land heavier than they should. "I get the feeling you're angry at the wrong person."

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat, a flicker of surprise breaking through the haze of resentment. How the hell did he know that?

"You have experience with angry women or are you just that damn good at reading people?"

His lips twisted into a smirk, the smoke trailing from his mouth before he replied. "I’ve got my share of experience," he said with a low chuckle. "But mostly... I just know when someone’s in pain. You’re not the first one to try and drown it out with liquor, but that never works for long."

You leaned back against the counter, exhaling through your nose, trying to appear indifferent even as your insides clench. It was true, what he said. You had planned to drink the memory of your ex away.

“I didn’t come here for a fucking therapy session,” you murmured, but you weren't sure if you were talking to him or to yourself.

The man didn't seem phased by your resistance. Instead, he took a long drag of his cigarette, his eyes glinted with an unreadable expression. He let the silence hang for a moment before speaking again, his voice low, almost a challenge.

"Then what did you come here for?" he asked, his gaze lingering on you, a quiet intensity behind it. "Because I doubt it’s just to get wasted."

Before you could say something, the man leaned in slightly, his voice just a touch softer, his cigarette now forgotten in his hand. He was close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the presence that surrounded him making everything else seem irrelevant.

"Maybe we can find a better way for you to forget," he suggested, his words hanging between you like an unspoken offer. "If you’re willing to see how a real man treats a lady" His words caught you off guard, making your stomach tighten in a way you were not used to.

A quick glance at him told you everything you needed to know. The confidence. The quiet, unshakable composure. This man has probably seen it all, the heartbroken women, the angry ones, the ones who want nothing but a temporary release. You weren’t the first to walk into his path, and you were damn sure you wouldn't be the last.

Your fingers tightened around your glass, eyes narrowing slightly. "So what, you think you're the guy to help me forget? To make me feel like a lady?"

His eyes flickered with something darker, something dangerously close to amusement, but there was no hesitation in his voice when he responds.

"I think I’ve got the right kind of distraction you're looking for." He paused, his gaze unwavering. "If you're willing to find out, unless you're too scared of a real man"

Oh holy fuck that man was serious and so fucking irresistibly charming.

Without a word, you stood up, pushing your glass aside and turned to face him fully. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you as you moved a little closer. The buzzing energy in the room seemed to fade, leaving only the steady thrum of your heartbeat and the low hum of his presence in your mind.

"You sure about that? I'm not one for pleasantries but you could at least give me your name" you said, your voice lower than before, but now laced with something else, something that matched the fire you've been holding back.

The man tilted his head slightly, a subtle, knowing smile curling at the edges of his lips. "Call me Beckman and believe me darling I’ve got a lot of ways to make you forget," he said, his voice deep, steady, a silent promise hanging in the air between you two.

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a sharp, challenging look. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that?" you asked, your voice low and almost daring.

His smile widened, a flash of amusement crossing his features, but there was something else there too, something darker, more predatory. He leaned forward, his breath brushing against your ear as he spoke in a voice just above a whisper. "Let me show you."

You didn’t need to say anything. The tension snapped. You took the final step, leaning in, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that started slow, testing, but quickly deepened, hunger and frustration melding into something more urgent.

The kiss lingered for a moment, slow but urgent, a perfect mix of heat and control. But as your lips parted the space between you felt even heavier, thick with the tension that neither of you dared to break just yet. Your heart beat faster, and you felt the alcohol in your veins but it didn't dull the intensity in the air.

Beckman pulled back slightly, his thumb brushing over your wrist as he watched you, eyes searching, calculating. He didn’t need to say a word; the look in his eyes already spoke volumes.

You took a deep breath, leaning in just enough to graze his ear with your words. "I want you to fake it like you love me." It was a dare, a challenge, but underneath it, you were screaming inside, wanting to give in to him force you to forget everything. To forget the hurt, the lies, the betrayal. For just a little while, you wanted to pretend that this was all you need, that you were wanted.

"You’re trying to forget," he said, his voice low, almost taunting. "Well we can fuck away the pain, erase him from your brain. just show me where it hurts and I'll make the pain go away while you scream out my name"

The tension in the air became almost unbearable as his words hung there, heavy and inviting. His hand moved to your waist, fingers pressing against the fabric of your clothes, drawing you even closer. His gaze locked onto yours, daring you to dive into this reckless distraction you’ve both been wanting. Your chest rose and fell with the rush of adrenaline and you could feel the heat of his body.

You let your hand move up his chest, feeling the beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. The soft cotton of his shirt did nothing to hide the strength of his body, the way his muscles shifted with every subtle movement. And when you leaned in, lips brushing against his ear, your breath hot against his skin, you couldn’t help but feel that all-consuming desire to be devoured by him.

"Take me there," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the rush of your pulse. "Make me forget it all."

The words seemed to ignite something within him.

Beckman didn’t hesitate. His hands moved with a purpose now, rougher. He pressed his lips to your neck, his kiss searing, and your body shuddered under the heat of it. "Don't worry darling, I’ll give you what he couldn’t."

With a sudden, almost brutal shift, Beckman pulled you into him, his body pressing flush against yours, the heat between you rising. His hands trailed down your spine, his grip firm but never too much, always in control, always testing. And when his lips found yours again, this time, not slow, not soft, no, this time desperate, hungry, as if he knows you’ve already made the choice, as if you’ve already surrendered to whatever he will do.

There was no hesitation left in you now. No shame. Just a fierce, wild need to lose yourself in this moment, to let go of everything that’s been weighing you down.

You pressed into him, your hands exploring the contours of his body, your breath shallow, desperate. He was right. You needed this.

He grabbed your arm and led you into a backroom closing the door behind him shut and pushing you onto a table behind you.

His hands slid beneath your clothes and you gasped, back almost instinctively arching when he brushed over your clothed nipples.

He smirked at your reaction and began to slowly peel off your clothes leaving you only in your underwear before taking a moment to admire you. "He must've been an idiot to leave something like this" Beckman hummed his fingertips tracing along your exposed skin. "But don’t worry when we're done you won't even remeber his name and with me there are no string attached" he said and soon his lips followed the path of his fingertips.

Kissing, licking and nibbling at your neck followed by your cleavage and between your still bra covered breasts down to your belly stopping at the waistline of your panties.

You let out a deep groan when he stopped.

"Someone's a bit eager but i will not keep you waiting - much longer" he teased. His hands were back on you as he took your bra off exposing your breasts and already errect nipples. Before he let his finger brush over them - agonizingly slow and teasing.

You arched your back into his touch and a moan escaped you when his lips found one of your nipples.

"Fuck Beckman," you gasped. You could feel him smile against your skin and suddenly his free hand traced along the inside of your thigh.

"I could keep this up all night, but I think I’ve done enough teasing for one evening," he growled in his deep voice.

And before you could say something more he moved from your breasts down to your waist kissing the tender, sensitive skin there while his hands teased the waistband of your panties before slowly and deliberately pulling them down.

"Beckman please" you moaned as he blew wind down between your legs.

"Please what darling?"

"Please fuck away the pain, erase him from my brain" you almost begged him.

"As you wish" he said before kissing, biting and sucking the skin on your inner thigh inching closer and closer to your core.

You moaned, arched your back and gripped the edge of the wooden table.

When his lips finally made contact with your folds you let out a loud "fuck" instinctively trying to close your legs but he reached up keeping them spread.

His tongue moved slowly, agonizingly slowly, over your folds before he pushed deeper, licking and sucking until you were a moaning and screaming mess.

"Oh hell Beckman I'm gonna......I'm.....I'm gonna cum" you screamed making him pick up the pace licking faster, deeper, his tongue driving you insane, his nose pressing against your clit until you could feel your release.

Oh fucking hell that was......just fucking amazing. But Beckman wasn’t done with you.

"This is how you treat a lady, tell me darling are you ready for more because i want to hear you scream my name so loud you won't remember his anymore" he groaned moving from between your legs up to kiss you, to let you taste yourself.

"Take me further, Beckman. I want to be only yours… I want to scream for you." Your words came out in quick, breathless bursts, each one full of the desire to leave everything behind and lose yourself in him completely.

Beckman just smirked at you before he took your hands gently and guided them to his pants before letting go and moving his own back onto your skin.

Your lips parted slightly as you hastily began unbuckling his pants tugging at it almost desperately making him chuckle. "Such a needy little lady" he teased before helping you pull them down along with his underwear.

You looked at his already errect member biting your lips - nothing compared to your ex. Hell he wasn't even half as manly as Beckman. And at the same time it made you tense a little.

Beckman carefully grabbed one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder while leaning his body closer. Planting kisses from your stomach up to your neck sucking and biting the sensitive skin while aligning himself at you entrance.

"Good girl just take a deep breath" he murmered into your neck one of his hands fondling your breasts the other drawing soothing circles on your inner thigh before he carefully pushed into you making your back arch and a loud moan escape your lips.

"Oh holy fuck" you gasped the feeling nothing compared to your ex.

"You won't even remeber you had an ex once I'm finished with you" Beckman growled as he moved slow, deliberate and so damn intoxicating.

You moaned, you whimpered and you begged him for more.

"Faster, Be-e-eckma-a-an please" you said nails scratching down his back while his lips began kissing a path from your neck to your jawline and finally your lips before picking up the pace, making you moan into it. The hand he had on your thigh began to move down to your clit circling it in the most delicious way.

"Ohhh, Bec I'm no-o-ot gonna la-a-ast any longer" you stammered when he broke the kiss your body on fire, every nerve every fibre electric.

"Cum for me darling" he purred and he didn't have to tell you twice with a loud "Beckman" you reached your high while he rode out his own orgasm following shortly after with a deep primal grunt when he felt you cum around him.

When he slowly pulled out of you he remained hovering over you his forehead resting againt yours smirking charmingly down on you. How could he still look so relaxed while you were already spent.

"Good girl," he said kissing your lips his hands tracing soothing patterns up and down your body. "Are you ready for the next round" he asked with a smug smirk.

And you? You just smiled and nodded.

The night continued with desire, bliss, screams and the sound of skin on skin and your ex was soon forgotten thanks to a very charming and "skilled" Beckman.