#Chapter Twenty-Two: Drag Me to Hell

[iydiamartinx]

THIS MEANS WAR II

Dick Grayson x Reader x Jason Todd

divider by: @cafekitsune & @thecutestgrotto word count: 4.8k synopsis: Gotham’s youngest neuroscience lecturer never planned to get tangled up with two of its most eligible bachelors. Both are determined to win her over—without revealing they know each other… or that they’re vigilantes. But when the Joker takes an interest in her, things get a whole lot more complicated. a/n: I did not expect the amount of love the first chapter got in such a short amount of time, thank you to everyone who took the time to read, reblog and like the story! warnings: sexual innuendos, milo, tooth rotting fluff

GOTHAM UNIVERSITY 

You definitely regretted drinking the moment you dragged yourself into the university the next morning. Every step toward the lecture hall felt like an uphill battle against the thumping in your skull and the dull ache behind your eyes—a painful souvenir from the night before with Milo and Anthony.

But the headache wasn’t the only thing off.

As you strolled through the halls, something felt… strange. Eyes followed you. Smiles lingered longer than usual—both from staff and students alike. A few even nodded in greeting, like you were a celebrity instead of a perpetually tired lecturer with a coffee addiction and zero patience for idiocy before 10 a.m.

“Y/N!” a voice called.

You turned to see one of the biology professors leaning against the doorframe of his lecture hall, his eyes scanning you with a little too much interest. “Can I just say—you look good today.”

You blinked, confused. “Uh. Thank you?” you replied, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. You gave a stiff nod and turned away, hurrying to your own classroom. What the hell was that about?

You hadn’t even dressed up. Just your usual—black slacks, a long-sleeved blouse tucked in neatly, sensible shoes. Your hair was pulled back into a taut bun, and despite your best efforts with concealer, the dark circles under your eyes were still winning the war. You looked worse than usual, if anything. Hungover. Sleep-deprived. Mildly irritated at the world.

And yet…

Your students were acting odd too. Whispering. Staring. One of them winked as he passed by your desk. You blinked at him, uncertain whether you were still drunk or hallucinating from lack of sleep.

The questions today were unusually… stupid. Even for a Thursday.

And then, at the end of class, one of your students—one who had never said more than five words to you before—lingered near your desk.

“Listen,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just gotta say, I am totally down… if you are, Doctor.”

You stared blankly. “Down? Are you catching something?”

His cheeks flushed red. “No—I meant, um—uh, if you’re looking to, like, go on a date—uh, never mind!” He turned on his heel and all but ran from the room, babbling something incoherent.

But you heard it. Just one word.

Dating site.

Your stomach dropped.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, heart skipping a beat as you snatched up your phone and hurried into the hallway, dialing Milo’s number with shaky fingers.

He answered on the third ring, voice groggy. “Hello?”

“What the fuck did you do, Milo?” you hissed into the phone.

There was a pause, then an easy drawl. “Well hello to you too.”

“Milo!”

“Relax,” he said. “I’m doing the Lord’s work. That pussy is growing cobwebs down there and you know it.”

Your jaw dropped. “Please—please do not tell me you did what I think you did.”

“Alright,” Milo said breezily. “I won’t tell you.”

Then the line went dead.

You let out a strangled sound of protest, halfway between a scream and a groan. Before you could redial, your phone vibrated. A message.

One link.

You clicked it—and froze.

“Oh my god.”

There it was. Your face. Your full name. And a profile on some godforsaken dating app with a bio you definitely hadn’t written.

Name: Y/N

Age: Mid-twenties

Occupation: Lecturer

Orientation: Bi-curious

About Me: Former gymnast. Skilled in oral communication. Open-minded, flexible, and always up for a challenge.

Looking for: Something serious… or seriously fun ;)

“Oh my god.” You felt your soul leave your body.

You called Milo again, barely waiting for him to pick up before snapping, “What the hell is wrong with you?! Bi-curious? Gymnastics? Skilled in oral communication?!”

“What?” he replied, completely unfazed. “I didn’t lie. You were a gymnast. And your current job is lecturer. You do communicate. Orally. Often.”

“Bi-curious?” you exclaimed, staring at the profile in horror. “I'm not sure that's even an official orientation!”

“It means you’re flexible, babe,” Milo said, absolutely unbothered. “And hey—you never know, it might be a woman who saves that pussy.”

You gaped at your phone. “Milo—”

“Then we can be one of those powerfully gay couples,” he went on dreamily, “with their iconic gay best friend. Four of us. Taking over brunch. Matching vacation fits. It’s giving legacy.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “This isn’t a Hallmark Pride Month special.”

“Not yet. But give it time.”

“I’m going to kill you,” you growled. “I’m going to end you, slowly.”

“How about thank you?”

You dragged a hand down your face. “You just made everyone I work with—and every guy in my lecture hall—think I’m down to be their naughty professor fantasy!”

“Okay, first of all,” he said, “you teach university, not high school. They’re all consenting adults. Secondly, that’s just good branding. It means you’re open to role play.”

You inhaled slowly. “I’m not sleeping with one of my students.”you snapped. “That’s not just unethical—it’s gross! Have you ever read a university policy?”

“yes, yes, heard it all before, I don’t need to read policy.” he sighed dramatically. “Look, I’m just trying to help you find your future husband—or at the very least, get laid. You’ve been walking around like a haunted Victorian widow.”

“I don’t think my future husband is going to take me seriously when you’ve basically made me sound like a bisexual stripper with a PhD,” you groaned, scrubbing a hand down your face. Your eyes dropped to the profile again—specifically to the picture of you clinging to a pole at Milo and Anthony’s joint bachelor party. You were laughing, clearly drunk, mid-spin.

He had made that the cover photo.

“Milo, I swear to God—”

But then you absently tapped the notifications.

New matches: 7

You scrolled… paused.

And there it was.

A face that made your breath catch.

Messy black hair. Stupidly handsome. Jaw carved by angels—or the devil, you weren’t sure. Those bright, glacier-blue eyes that had no business looking so damn good in a dating profile.

Your mouth went dry.

“Well,” you muttered faintly, “speaking of Dicks…”

“Ooh, I know that tone,” Milo crooned through the phone. “Girl, if you don’t swipe right on him—”

You bit your lip, torn between common sense and sheer thirst. “I don’t know…”

“Don’t what? That man looks like he bench-presses women for sport.” Milo stated, clearly having pulled up your profile from wherever he was lounging. “If you don’t swipe, I will do it for you. Right the fuck now. Don’t forget—I have admin privileges.”

You hesitated. Your thumb hovered.

Your eyes flicked to his profile again.

Dick Grayson.

He really was unfairly attractive. Possibly the hottest man you’d ever seen.

“…Fine!” you huffed. “I’ll go on one date. One. Only because this man looks like he could make me forget my own name.”

“That’s my girl!” Milo whooped like a proud pageant mom. “Thank me later—preferably while holding one of his babies.”

You groaned, dragging a hand over your face. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Oh, and don’t forget—lingerie. And swallow, don’t—”

You hung up at that part, shaking your head—but you were grinning.

God help you.

DICK'S APARTMENT

Dick sighed, dragging a hand down his face. It had been almost ten hours since he and Jason made the discovery—and still, radio silence. No updates, no leads. Just a whole lot of waiting.

He’d given Jason the “don’t get too obsessed” speech, but the truth was, he was just as bad. Maybe worse. Their entire family had a toxic relationship with the word rest, especially when the Joker was involved. That clown had left more scars on them than anyone cared to admit.

Finally, unable to sit still, Dick pulled out his phone and hit call.

“Babs,” he said the moment she picked up, “any news on the case?”

Barbara sighed. “Nothing. Mancini was right about one thing—this guy who stole Joker’s formula? He’s a ghost. Even the Joker’s gone quiet. Bruce and Tim are still digging.”

“Great,” Dick muttered, jaw clenched.

“I know it sucks sitting around,” Barbara said gently. “But we still don’t have confirmation Mancini was telling the truth. You know that.”

“I know.” He rubbed at the tension building at the back of his neck.

There was a beat of silence before she asked, “Hey… when was the last time you actually went out?”

“I go out all the time,” he said defensively.

“Coming home to see your brothers doesn’t count. Neither does hanging out with the team. And don’t even try bringing up Wally.”

He huffed. “I wasn’t—”

“Yes, you were,” she cut in, amused. “But seriously, Dick. When was the last time you did something for you? Had fun. Met someone.”

He exhaled slowly. “There’s no time for that. You know how this life works. It’s not exactly relationship-friendly.”

Barbara didn’t argue. It was the truth—and the reason they’d broken up in the first place. They might always be best friends, always care for each other, but the vigilante life was relentless. Demanding. Even with all their shared understanding, it hadn’t been enough to keep them together.

So Dick kept it casual. One night, rarely ever two. Just enough to feel human. Never enough to drag some poor unsuspecting person into his shit.

“But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try,” Barbara said, voice soft but firm. “You don’t always have to be Nightwing. Or the responsible older brother. You’re allowed to just be Dick sometimes.”

He let out a low groan. “At this rate, I am going to end up like Bruce.”

“Exactly,” she sighed. “And that is not a compliment.”

“Take that back.” He barked a short laugh, though it lacked bite. “If I end up like Bruce, put me down.”

“Only if you do something about it.”

“I want to. I do. But I can’t.” His voice dipped lower, more tired than he meant it to sound. “There’s just… no time for that stuff.”

“Well, now you’ve got some,” Barbara said, and he didn’t need to see her face to hear the grin curling in her voice.

Dick froze. Suspicion creeping in. “…Babs. What did you do?”

“Well, with the others still working to verify Mancini’s story and both Gotham and Blüdhaven being surprisingly quiet for once,” Barbara said lightly, “you, my friend, are officially off-duty.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “And that means… what exactly?”

“It means,” she continued with that too sweet tone, “you’re free to go out.”

He frowned. “Go out?” He could sense there was more. “Barbara, what did you do?”

“Oh, nothing too scandalous,” she replied airily. “Just… made you a dating profile.”

“You what?!” he barked, half standing from his chair.

“A very tasteful one,” she added quickly, clearly anticipating his outrage. “No shirtless gym selfies, no cheesy pick-up lines. I even used that photo of you from the Wayne Foundation gala last year—black suit, hair slicked back, looking all suave and charming.”

“Barbara,” he growled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Relax! You look great. And I may or may not have… already swiped on someone for you.”

He rubbed at his temples, already feeling the headache forming. “Are you serious right now?”

“You said it yourself. There’s no time. So I’m helping speed along the process. Now you’ve got a reason to go out and be you. Besides, she’s very cute. And smart. You’ll like her.”

Dick groaned. “Babs, this is not—this isn’t—God.” He dropped his head into his hand. “You can’t just sign me up for this stuff.”

“I can and I did. You’re welcome.” 

“I’m beaming with gratitude,” Dick muttered dryly. “Look just cancel the stupid profile.”

“You can’t back out now,” she sing-songed. “It’s already confirmed. Six o’clock. At that bar you like—Brick & Ember.”

Dick let out a slow breath, already resigning himself to the inevitable. He wasn’t the type to ghost someone. Even if the date went south, he’d at least be polite. End things gently. No use in being a dick to some poor girl dragged into Barbara’s scheme.

“Well,” he muttered, “at least you picked a good place.”

“Actually,” Barbara said with a grin in her voice, “she suggested it.”

That made him pause. “…Oh.”

So she had good taste too.

“I haven’t even seen her profile.” He weakly argued.

“Well, maybe you should check your notifications.” Her tone dipped into that singsong territory that meant he had absolutely no escape.

Against his better judgment, Dick pulled his phone away and opened the app she’d clearly installed behind his back. There it was.

One new match.

He clicked it.

And then blinked.

Barbara smirked, already knowing. “Told you she’s cute.”

Dick stared at the profile, brows lifting slightly. She was cute. Striking, actually. Hair loose and open, a sharp jawline softened by a crooked smile in one picture, and in another—God, was she… dancing on a pole?

“What the hell is this photo?”

Barbara’s voice rang in his ear, smug and satisfied. “Told you. Thank me later.”

Before he could respond, the line clicked dead.

Dick sighed, but his eyes drifted back to your photo. His thumb hovered over your name. You were definitely his type. And for the first time in a long while, he actually curious to see how the night might go.

BRICK & EMBER

It was nearly six when Dick grabbed his jacket, heading for the door—only for his phone to buzz in his pocket. He checked the caller ID and sighed.

Jason.

He answered anyway. “What’s up, Little Wing?”

“Any updates?” Jason asked without preamble.

“None so far,” Dick replied, trying to keep his voice even. “I called Babs this morning. She promised to keep me posted.”

“How can you be so calm?” Jason snapped, frustration bleeding through the line. “The Joker is out there, and if what Mancini said is true, we cannot let him get his hands on that formula.”

Dick let out a slow breath. “I’m not as calm as you think, Jay. But until Bruce and Tim dig up something concrete, running around blind isn’t going to help.”

Jason wasn’t convinced. “We don’t have to sit on our asses. We could be out there now. Start shaking the tree. You know how this works. Someone always knows something—you just need to find the right branches to snap.”

“Give it one more day,” Dick said, his voice firm. “If Bruce and Tim don’t find anything by then, we’ll start digging too.”

The last thing he needed was Jason storming off on his own. Not with the Joker possibly in the wind. That wound was still raw—for Jason, for all of them. 

“Besides,” Dick added, “I can’t tonight.”

Jason paused. “Why not?”

“I have a date.”

There was a beat of silence.

“A date?” Jason said flatly. “Are you kidding me right now?”

Dick sighed, already regretting saying anything.

“There’s a chemical weapon on the loose, and the Clown Prince of Batshit is out there hunting God knows what—and you’re going out for tapas?”

“It’s not tapas—”

“You are the reason Bruce has high blood pressure,” Jason muttered darkly.

“First of all, that’s because of you and Damian,” Dick shot back. “And second—look, it’s one date. And if you want to point fingers, blame Barbara. She’s the one who signed me up for the damn dating site.”

Jason let out a short, incredulous snort. “Of course she did. That woman’s probably had a spreadsheet tracking your love life since college.”

“I wouldn’t be shocked if she wired me with a mic just to coach me through the date.”

Jason huffed—something between a laugh and a groan. “So who is it this time? Some socialite with a podcast? A yoga instructor with three divorces?”

Dick grinned. “Actually? She’s a doctor.”

Jason paused. “…Huh. You’re actually going out with someone smart and normal?”

“She teaches at Gotham U.”

“Damn. That’s hot.”

Dick chuckled. “See? You do support me.”

“I didn’t say I supported you,” Jason snapped. “I said she’s hot. Big difference.”

“Mhm,” Dick hummed, smug.

There was a pause. The silence sat for a beat, a little more relaxed now.

Then Jason muttered, “Just… keep your comm on, alright? I’ll be your back up if she turns out to be a psycho.”

Dick laughed under his breath. “Thanks, but I think I can handle dinner with a woman who isn’t actively trying to kill me.”

A beat.

“…Though in Gotham, that might be asking too much.”

Jason chuckled, low and dry. “Exactly. You attract chaos, Grayson. Don’t act surprised if she pulls out a flamethrower over appetizers.”

“If she does, I’ll send you a selfie.”

“Better yet, send me her number.”

“Jay.” Dick said, laughing now.

Jason snorted something that sounded dangerously close to affection before hanging up.

Dick glanced at the time and cursed under his breath. Jason’s call had eaten through his buffer. Grabbing his jacket, he headed out in a rush, weaving through the evening crowd with practiced ease.

He was nearly at the bar when doubt started creeping in.

She sounded perfect. Too perfect. Jason might’ve been joking, but… what if she was a psycho? Or a catfish? Or worse—some bored cougar using decade-old filters and a killer photo angle?

God, if she turned out to be fifty and looking for a sugar baby, Jason would never let him live it down.

The closer he got, the more cautious his steps became. A part of him braced for the worst. There had to be a catch. There always was.

He exhaled and pushed the door open.

Warm light spilled out from within—amber glow, clinking glasses, low laughter threading through ambient music. His blue eyes swept the room, scanning past faces and tables, until they landed on you.

And just like that, the world stopped.

You weren’t a catfish. You weren’t a cougar. You weren’t fifty.

If anything, you were even more stunning in person—hair pulled back just enough to frame your face, posture relaxed but unmistakably poised, fingers curled around a glass you hadn’t touched in a while.

And as if you could feel him watching, you turned.

Your gaze met his. And then you smiled.

It hit him like a punch to the gut—warm, radiant, unexpected.

Yep.

There had to be a catch.

Because no one looked that good—not without hiding something.

He was five minutes late, and you were already beginning to regret letting Milo talk you into this ridiculous scheme. He could’ve been using fake pictures. He could’ve been an old man. Or a serial killer. Or, knowing your luck, both.

If your murder ended up on the evening news, you were going to haunt Milo’s ass for the rest of his damned life.

You were just about to talk yourself out of it—stand up, make a graceful exit, maybe fake a stomach bug—when the bar’s front door chimed open.

Instinctively, you turned.

And there he was.

Relief swept through you like a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Not a catfish. Not a creepy older man. Not a serial killer—probably. No, he looked exactly like his profile.

Actually… better.

You slid out of your seat as he approached.

He was taller than his profile made him seem—broad-shouldered in a fitted navy button-down, black jeans, and that kind of easy, confident walk that made it obvious he belonged anywhere he stepped. His dark hair was tousled just enough to look good without trying, and when his eyes met yours, he smiled.

Dimples. Of course he had dimples.

“You must be Y/N,” he said, voice warm, edged with something rougher—like he laughed often, but didn’t sleep enough.

You nodded, sliding your phone into your purse. “And you’re not secretly a 65-year-old retiree named Gerald. So we’re off to a good start.”

He grinned, quick and genuine. “Only on weekends.”

That earned a laugh from you—real, despite yourself. The bartender arrived, sliding two drinks across the bar, and you thanked him as you both began walking to take your seats.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show,” you said, tilting your glass toward him, teasing just enough to cover the fact that you’d almost bolted five minutes earlier.

“Traffic was a nightmare,” he replied smoothly, pulling out your chair before settling into his. “Also had to convince my brother I wasn’t walking straight into a potential kidnapping.”

You raised a brow, amused. “Protective, is he?”

He smirked. “Let’s just say he’s got trust issues. I think he genuinely expected you to be an arms dealer with a basement full of body bags.”

You sipped your drink. “So… not far off.”

That pulled a laugh from him.

You grinned. “Well, good to know I wasn’t the only one worried about that… wait—” you narrowed your eyes, leaning forward as if reconsidering, “you’re not a kidnapper, are you?”

He leaned back, one brow arched, eyes sparkling with amusement. “That depends. How do you feel about being lured into vans with puppies and free Wi-Fi?”

You snorted into your drink. “Honestly? That’s a tempting offer after the day I’ve had.”

“Noted,” he said with a mock-serious nod. “Next time, I’ll bring a golden retriever and a mobile hotspot.”

You shook your head, laughing. “You joke, but if you’d been five more minutes late, I was one panic spiral away from texting my best friend to start emotionally drafting my eulogy. He’s the reason I even have that damned profile, if we’re being fully transparent.”

“Well,” he said, lifting his glass slightly, “in the spirit of honesty—same. My best friend is also the reason I had a profile.”

You grinned. “Look at that. We already have more in common than I thought.”

“Mutual best friend peer pressure,” he said dryly. “Truly the bedrock of all great romances.”

You clinked your glass against his, smiling into the rim. “Still. I’m glad he pushed me. Even if I was convinced you were going to ghost me or try to sell me a timeshare.”

Dick smirked. “Oh, I considered it. But then I saw your profile and figured a neuroscientist would be smart enough to spot the pyramid scheme.”

“Smart enough, maybe,” you replied, eyes narrowing playfully. “But I stayed, didn’t I?”

His lips twitched. “Touché.”

He leaned forward just a little, forearms resting on the table, that easy charm sharpening slightly into curiosity. “So… how’s it going so far? On a scale from ‘tragic mistake’ to ‘might not fake an emergency text.’”

You made a show of considering it. “Hmm… somewhere between ‘free food is free food’ and ‘I might actually want to see how this ends.’”

He laughed, low and genuine. “I’ll take it. That’s progress.”

A beat passed. Not awkward. Just…Comfortable.

He leaned in slightly, the teasing softening in his voice. “You seem like someone who doesn’t usually do this kind of thing.”

Your smile faded just a touch, replaced by something quieter. “I don’t. Not really.”

“No horror date stories, then?”

Oh, I have one,” you said, arching a brow. “Three years of one.”

That surprised a laugh out of him, though the look in his eyes shifted—warm, attentive. “Oof. Long-term horror.”

“Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p’ lightly. “But it taught me a lot. Like how to spot a red flag… and never trust a man named Jake.”

Dick laughed, eyes glinting. “Jake, huh? Should I be worried?”

You narrowed your gaze playfully. “Not unless you’re hiding bleached hair and have an ego the size of Wayne Tower under that charm.”

He grinned. “Good news—definitely not blonde. And the ego?” He leaned in just a little, voice dipping playfully. “Mostly under control. Depends on the lighting.”

You laughed. “Ah, so it swells at golden hour. Noted.”

“Only if someone’s complimenting my jawline.”

“Oh, God,” you groaned, but you were smiling. “I walked into this, didn’t I?”

He raised his glass again, eyes glinting. “And now you can’t walk out. Social contract and all.”

You sipped your drink, still grinning. “You’re more charming than I expected.”

“Most people expect broody or boring,” he said with a shrug. “So I like to keep ‘mildly delightful’ in my back pocket.”

“Mildly delightful,” you echoed, amused. “That’s your official rating now.”

“I’ll take it,” he said with mock pride. “Could be worse. So…” He tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Tell me—what makes a brilliant, sharp, slightly intimidating neuroscientist swipe right on a guy with two pictures and a suspiciously short bio?”

You smiled, but this time it carried a note of honesty beneath the humor. “Because he didn’t try too hard. No gym selfies. No weird filters. And his first message actually had punctuation. That’s rare, you know.”

“High standards.”

“I work with brains,” you said simply. “I tried settling once. Never again.”

He gave a small nod, his smile thoughtful now. “A woman who knows what she wants—I respect that.”

It was your turn to tilt your head, curiosity glinting behind your grin. “Alright—your turn. What made you agree to this date? Because I saw the profile Milo made for me and—look, it was a disaster. For the record, I do not make a habit of dancing on poles. That was one time. At his bachelor party. Too many drinks. I got dared.”

He laughed, full and unguarded, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re telling me that wasn’t a career aspiration?”

“Shocking, I know,” you said dryly. “My dreams of becoming a neuroscientist-pole-dancer hybrid never quite took off.”

“Well, that’s disappointing.” He leaned in a little, expression mock-serious. “I was really banking on a lap dance over dessert.”

You nearly choked on your drink, snorting. “That's implying i stay long enough for dessert.”

“Then I guess I better make the main course memorable to convince you,” He smirked, leaning back just slightly, before the humor in his expression giving way to something softer. “But for the record?” A pause. “It was your eyes.”

That made you blink. “My eyes?”

He shrugged, but there was something sincere in his voice now. “Your eyes stood out. They were open. Genuine. Not guarded or jaded like most people in this city. That kind of thing’s basically extinct in Gotham.”

You blinked.

And okay, maybe the wine was hitting, or maybe it was the way he said it—casual but genuine—but your heart did something.

“Don’t ruin it now,” you said lightly, recovering with a smile. “That was dangerously close to poetic.”

“I have layers,” he said, lifting his glass in a lazy half-toast.

“Clearly.”

He smiled again—slower this time. Less of a flirt, more of a study. “I like people who don’t bullshit. You strike me as someone who cuts through it.”

You tapped your glass against the table lightly. “Only when I’m not too busy overanalyzing everything within a five-mile radius.”

“Perfect,” he said, finishing the last of his drink. “You overanalyze. I underreact. Balance.”

You raised your glass. “A healthy relationship dynamic if I’ve ever heard one.”

Dick was utterly smitten by the end of the night.

You were everything he wanted—and nothing he’d expected.

He’d known you were brilliant going in—your profile, however chaotic, couldn’t hide that—but what caught him off guard was everything else. The dry wit. The unapologetic honesty. The way you didn’t flinch from teasing him, even when he gave as good as he got.

You weren’t trying to impress him. You weren’t putting on a act like some of the socialites he’d went out with. You were just you—sharp, bold, genuine—and it was the most refreshing thing he’d felt in a long, long time.

Which was why, when the check had been paid and the last of the drinks were gone, he found himself reluctant to leave. Not literally dragging his feet—but close.

“I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself this much without having to dodge bullets,” he said as you both stepped out into the cool Gotham night.

You grinned, tugging your coat tighter. “Gotham’s highest standard for a good evening.”

He glanced at you, that crooked smile creeping in again. “I mean it. This was… really nice.”

You gave a softer smile this time. “Yeah. It was.”

A small beat of silence passed—once again not awkward, just content.

Then he cleared his throat. “So… I don’t usually say this on first dates—”

You smirked. “That sounds promising.”

“—but I want to see you again.”

You arched a brow. “That’s not scandalous, Dick.”

“I just mean—” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “usually I don’t care if there’s a second date. With you, I do.”

Your smile widened, but your voice stayed light. “Well, lucky for you… I don’t usually give second chances.”

He blinked, caught somewhere between amused and confused.

You took your phone out, holding it up between you. “But I’m willing to make an exception.”

He chuckled, pulling his own phone from his pocket and handing it over without hesitation. “You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?”

You tilted your head. “Only if you’re lucky.”

Phones were exchanged, numbers saved. As he handed yours back, his fingers brushed yours—just briefly—but the moment lingered.

“I’ll text you,” he said, voice a shade lower now.

You hesitated just a second, like you were weighing something—then stepped forward.

Leaning up onto your toes, your lips brushed the edge of his jaw, featherlight.

You pulled back, biting your lip as if trying to hold back a smile.

“I hope you do,” you murmured.

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[punkshort]

i'll be home for christmas | part two

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, very soft!joel, flirting, kissing, hallmark movie tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, reader's sister is pregnant, hurt/comfort, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unproteced piv sex, angst (but you know there will be a happy ending, this is Hallmark, after all)

WC: 12K

A/N: I am so overwhelmed at the response I received for part one. No contest, it's my most successful story to date, and I can't thank you all enough ❤️ I really hope you enjoy this part just as much. Please read the warnings, this has some (very sweet and soft) smut at the end, so if it isn't your thing, feel free to skip it.

Series Masterlist

Joel sat in his truck, the engine long cooled down by now, as he stared blankly at his garage door, waiting for the stupid grin to leave his face before he went inside to face his brother. But he had been sitting there for almost twenty minutes, and he was still smiling behind the back of his hand.

That date with you was perfect. Well, he could have done without getting knocked on his ass by some kid, but it worked out for him in the end, so he didn't mind.

Goddamn, did you make him feel good. There was no way he would be able to sleep that night, he was sure of it. Not after the way you looked at him, touched him, kissed him. A big part of him wondered for a long time if he would spend the rest of his life alone, believing that lightning doesn't strike twice, that he would never find anyone who would look at him and want him the way you did.

He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him you didn't live there, that you would be going back to New York in a couple short weeks. He couldn't let that bring him down just yet, that was a problem for another day. Right now, his only problem was resisting the urge to drive back to your house and scoop you up in his arms so he could make you feel as good as he felt.

It was close to midnight, so he caved and went inside, hoping his brother would be too groggy to interrogate him. When he walked in and saw Tommy and Sarah lounging on the couch, wide awake and watching some action flick, his face fell.

"Hey, it is way past your bedtime, the hell are you doin'?" Joel scolded, sliding off his boots.

"Dad, c'mon, it's the weekend," Sarah whined.

"Don't care, you know the rules," he told her, trying to sound firm, but he had such a soft spot for her that he never succeeded in sounding threatening.

"But it's a special occasion, I wanted to hear how your date went," she grinned, sitting up and wiggling her eyebrows. Joel's jaw dropped and shot a glare at his brother while stretching his arms out at his side in disbelief.

"Oh, come on, she practically dragged it outta me," Tommy smirked.

"Unbelievable," Joel muttered, collapsing on the end of the couch and rubbing his eyes.

"So?" Sarah pushed, tucking her legs underneath her excitedly.

"I ain't talkin' about this with you," he said, biting his cheek as he stared at the TV.

"Why not?" she pouted, but Joel just shook his head.

"Go brush your teeth," he said.

"Fine," she replied, rolling her eyes as she made her way to the stairs. "But I'll get it out of you one day."

She stomped upstairs and it wasn't until Joel heard the water running that he turned to his brother.

"What the hell, Tommy? You know I didn't want her knowin' about that," he said, exasperated.

"Oh, relax," Tommy said, stretching his arms above his head. "She's sixteen, Joel. She's smart. She figured it out herself, I just confirmed it after gettin' the third degree."

Joel sighed and tipped his head back onto the sofa, closing his eyes.

"Christ," he muttered.

"What's the big deal?"

Joel sat up and opened his eyes.

"Big deal is, she lives in New York. There's no future there, we were just hangin' out, and I don't need Sarah gettin' her hopes up," Joel explained, trying to downplay his feelings, but his chest squeezed at the thought of you leaving one day.

"Ever hear of long distance?" Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That never works," Joel replied, shaking his head.

"Well, maybe you should make it work," he said, sitting up and muting the TV. "You know, Sarah just wants you to be happy, Joel. We both do," Tommy said somberly. "Told me tonight she's worried about you bein' all alone when she goes off to college."

"I'll be alright," he said gruffly, although the same thought was plaguing his mind recently, as well.

Tommy stared at his brother a moment as Joel watched the TV, pretending to follow the story even though there was no audio. He decided to drop it for now and changed the subject.

"So, you gonna tell me how it went or what?"

Joel bit his lower lip, trying to keep himself from smiling, but he failed. Tommy noticed right away and grinned, leaning forward to tap his knee.

"I know that look," he said, still grinning.

"Yeah, alright," Joel finally said with a smile. "It was great. Really fuckin' great."

"Hell yeah!" Tommy yelled, and Joel immediately shushed him, pointing upstairs.

"She's funny and she's sweet, we had a real nice time," Joel said, his grin permanently etched on his face now.

"I figured it went well since you got home so late," Tommy replied with a wink.

"I ain't gonna sleep with her on the first date," he whispered, just in case Sarah was listening. He settled back into the couch as Tommy turned the TV volume back on, letting the movie play for a minute before adding, "She's a good kisser, though."

"Oh, I can't wait to meet this girl," Tommy chuckled with a shake of his head. "Haven't seen you smile this much in years."

"Yeah, well," Joel replied noncommittally, still smiling like an idiot and staring at the TV. He decided to stay downstairs that night, finishing the movie and then starting another one on the couch long after Tommy left, unable to quiet down his mind long enough to fall asleep until nearly three in the morning.

You woke up the next day, stretching your arms above your head with a big yawn, not ready to get out of bed yet but the voices downstairs told you it must have been late. With a groan, you reached over and snatched your phone off the charger. When you saw you had a text waiting for you, your heart skipped a beat until you read Sydney's name and not Joel's. Your eyes flicked to the top of the screen, noting it was close to ten in the morning, before sliding open the text.

Sydney: sorry forgot to reply yesterday. I saw will at black & blue, he was hammered and falling all over the place

You scowled, not interested in whatever your ex was up to, so you replied with just the thumbs up emoji and set your phone back down.

Staring at the ceiling, you dreamily thought about your date with Joel. God, he really took you by surprise. You were proud of yourself for taking that first big step forward and putting yourself out there again, but you had no idea it would feel like this. You weren't even sure you ever felt like this with Will. Even when things were good, Will never treated you the way Joel did last night. He was so earnest and respectful, opening doors for you and actually listening to you talk about work. And he didn't even try to feel you up, either, although you probably wouldn't have minded. Maybe it was those Southern manners you were missing this whole time.

With a groan, you dropped your phone back on the nightstand and swung your legs over the edge of your bed, wrapping yourself in your robe, still not expecting it to be so cold in Texas. Even though it was December, it was unusual.

You made your way into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee, tossing a wave in the direction of your parents sitting with your sister and brother in law in the living room.

"She lives!" Cassie exclaimed with a smug look on her face. You held your mug up to your lips and blew on the liquid, frowning when the whole family was looking at you with matching, goofy smirks.

"Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" your mom asked innocently. You squinted at her as you sat down, not buying it.

"How was your date?" your sister asked. You took a sip of coffee before replying.

"Good," you said simply, nodding your head. Your mom and dad exchanged a look and you frowned again, getting annoyed.

"What?" you asked loudly.

"Nothing!" your dad said, looking back down at his newspaper. Who even still gets the newspaper delivered anymore, anyway?

"Josh, what's going on?" you asked your sister's husband, knowing he was the weakest link. He glanced nervously between you and Cassie.

"They saw you and Joel on the Ring camera," he blurted out, and your family all groaned in unison. Your face flushed beet red, gawking at them all in disbelief.

"Are you kidding me?" you screeched.

"We didn't mean to, Bucky. Dad was reviewing the footage because he couldn't find the newspaper this morning and, well..." your mom trailed off, trying to hide her smile.

"Oh my god," you whined, tucking your legs to your chest and hiding your face.

"Looked like the date was a little more than good," Cassie teased, and you smacked her on the leg.

"I can't believe this," you mumbled to yourself, hiding your face behind your coffee mug and praying someone would change the subject. "How much did you see?"

"Just from when he pulled in the driveway til when you went inside," your mom said with a shrug.

"That's, like, everything, Mom! Oh my god!" Your face was hot with embarrassment now.

"He looks like a good kisser, is he a good kisser?" Cassie asked.

"Shut up!" you whined, covering your face with your free hand.

"There's nothin' to be embarrassed about, he was a gentleman. Held the door open for you and everythin'," your dad murmured, and you groaned.

"Can we talk about literally anything else, please?" you begged.

"Of course!" your mom said, her eyes flicking around the room, waiting for someone to say something, but nobody spoke.

"I'm sorry, Buck, but you gotta see the the smile on his face after you went inside, it was so cute," Cassie said, pulling out her phone.

"I'm going upstairs!" you announced, jumping up from the couch.

"Wait! Are you still coming by later to help paint the nursery?"

"I don't know, are there any cameras there?" you shouted over your shoulder as your climbed the stairs with your coffee to hide in the sanctity of the guest bedroom.

"Well, no. Only because I haven't set the baby monitor up yet," Cassie called back and giggled when she heard you slam your door.

Grumbling to yourself, you flopped back into bed and picked up your phone, looking for a distraction from your embarrassment. You quickly found one when you saw you had a missed text from Joel.

Joel Miller: Question for you - when is the earliest you should text someone without looking too pathetic after you've had the best date of your life?

You grinned as you typed out a response.

You: answer - whatever time you sent this text :)

Joel Miller: Oh, good. Thought I scared you off, sent that about ten minutes ago.

You: sorry, I was downstairs talking to my family, forgot to bring my phone. And I don't think you could ever scare me off

You almost told him about the doorbell camera fiasco, but decided against it. Picking up your mug, you tried not to stare too hard at your phone as you waited for a reply.

Joel Miller: What are you doing later?

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him again so soon, then quickly stopped yourself, remembering your promise to your sister.

You: I told my sister I would help paint the nursery...

Joel Miller: That's a shame. I was hoping you could teach me something again.

You: oh? lol

Joel Miller: I just realized how that sounded - I meant wrapping Christmas presents for Sarah. I'm awful at it and I have another hunch gift wrapping is a secret talent of yours.

You giggled and rolled over in bed, your embarrassment long forgotten now.

You: you might be right... how about tomorrow?

Joel took the porch steps two at a time, eager to see you again and it hadn't even been a full two days. His finger barely pressed the doorbell when he heard your voice call out I got it! and the door swung open. You smiled up at him, your eyes lighting up before dropping your gaze to his mouth.

"Hi," you said breathlessly.

"Hey," he replied, swallowing roughly.

"Have a nice time, Bucky!" your mom's voice rang out somewhere behind you as you shut the door quickly. Joel grinned, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your mouth before leaning in. You put your hand on his chest and tilted your head back before grabbing his hand and leading him to his truck. Confused, he followed behind and tried not to stare too long at the way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass.

You led him to the passenger side of the truck, but when he reached out to open the door, you snaked your hand up to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down for a searing kiss only when you were sure you were hidden from view.

"Would I sound crazy if I said I missed you?" you whispered.

"No," Joel replied, shaking his head and trying to calm his pounding heart. "Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

"Me, too," you admitted softly, gazing up at him with your beautiful eyes all wide and burning with desire.

He cradled your face in his calloused hand, the other flattened firmly against the truck door behind you as he stared into your eyes, fighting the urge to pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist so he could pin you against his truck and let you feel just how badly he missed you.

Then, you heard your dad's SUV unlock and your eyes widened in panic.

"Shit," you muttered. "We should go. I think they're heading out."

"Alright, maybe I should say 'hi' real quick," he said, pushing himself off the truck and letting his hand drop from your face.

"No! That's okay, we'll be stuck here forever if you do," you said hurriedly. He gave you a curious smile but agreed before opening the door for you and hopping into the driver's seat.

He waited until he backed out of the driveway and was heading down your street before shooting you a sideways glance.

"Everythin' okay?"

You sighed and rubbed your palms over your face before clearing your throat.

"So, remember the other night on the porch, after you dropped me off?"

He smirked and nodded.

"Yeah, I think I remember," he teased.

"Well," you began. "My family saw us on the doorbell camera the next morning," you cringed.

He laughed, throwing his head back just a bit so he could still keep an eye on the road, and shook his head.

"Oh, I hate those fuckin' things," he said, but he was still laughing.

You grinned, your nerves and unease dissipating quickly.

"You're not embarrassed?"

"Nah," he said with a shrug, then turned his head briefly to look at you. "I'm sure we put on a good show."

You giggled, your cheeks tinting pink, and turned your head to look out the window.

"Alright," he said after a minute. "I've waited long enough and I gotta ask."

You swiveled back towards him, waiting for him to continue.

"What's the story with the nickname?"

You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut.

"It's so unbelievably stupid," you said, but he shook his head.

"Well, now you gotta tell me."

"Fine," you said, rolling your eyes, but your playful smile gave you away.

"It's Buck, or Bucky. Short for Bucket," you began.

"Bucket?" he repeated, bewildered.

"I warned you it was stupid!" you protested, and he chuckled. "Anyway, when I was little, my sister and her friends had a sleepover one time, and I overheard them swearing."

"Okay," Joel said slowly, nodding along while he kept his eyes pinned to the road.

"I always looked up to my sister, I was like her shadow when I was younger. So, when I heard them swearing, I wanted to be like them, too, you know?"

"Yeah, I follow," he replied, still not sure how the story related to your nickname.

"Well, thing is, I misheard them. They were saying 'fuck it', but I heard 'bucket'," you explained. "So I went to school and, thinking I sounded cool, I would say 'bucket' to all my friends. We were little, they had no idea what I was talking about, so I explained to them it's a swear word. Before I knew it, I had the whole class saying 'bucket' any time someone dropped something, or got a bad grade on a test, or whatever."

Joel howled with laughter, gripping the steering wheel for dear life as he tried to make it safely into his driveway.

"The principal called my parents and told them what was happening," you continued, joining in and giggling. "They got me home, and-" you doubled over, clutching your stomach as Joel put the truck in park and slumped over the steering wheel, his body shaking as he laughed.

"And I had to tell them the whole story, about why I kept saying it and-" you wiped the tears from your eyes as you took a deep breath. "And - oh my god - my sister got grounded for two weeks-" Another fit of laughter washed over Joel, tears streaming down his face.

"Wait, wait," he gasped, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn to face you. "You got in trouble in school, and your sister ended up gettin' punished?"

"Yes!" you squeaked, still giggling.

"Oh, shit," he breathed, panting as he leaned the back of his head against the seat rest. "Can't believe you thought that was stupid. That's gotta be the funniest thing I heard in a long while."

"Well, I'm glad I could brighten your day," you said, still grinning.

He rolled his head back towards you, his soft gaze drifting up and down your frame quickly before stopping on your eyes.

"You really do, y'know," he said quietly, and you furrowed your brow, tilting your head in confusion.

"Brighten my day," he clarified.

You bit your lower lip and smiled, looking away as the flush began to return to your cheeks.

"Come on, charmer. Why don't we go teach you how to wrap presents?"

You never really gave much thought as to what Joel's house would look like, but once you saw it, it immediately felt like him. It was a smaller, two bedroom house. When you first walked in, you entered a living room with a leather couch and an oversized recliner. A big screen TV was front and center across from the couch, with a few framed pictures of Joel and Sarah mounted on the wall next to it.

"You want somethin' to drink?" Joel asked, making sure to slide the coat from your shoulders before shrugging off his own.

"Maybe just water," you said, following him into the kitchen. You gasped when you saw his cupboards and immediately rushed over to them while he pulled two bottles of water from the stainless steel fridge.

"Oh my god, Joel," you whispered, running your fingers gently over the designs. Each one looked different but somehow they all were cohesive. Some had small flowers or butterflies carved into the corners, while others had simple, yet intricate designs grooved into the wood.

"Had to practice somehow," he said, feeling his cheeks flush as he walked over to hand you your water.

"God, it's so beautiful," you said breathlessly, unable to look away from the dark, stained wood. Your fingers danced over some stars etched into one of doors, your eyes wide with awe, but he was focused entirely on you. He couldn't get enough of watching the delicate features on your face light up whenever you found something new that pleased you.

"How long does this take for you to do?" you asked, finally dragging your eyes away to look up at him. Your throat tightened when you noticed the heat behind his stare, your pulse fluttering in your neck.

"Depends," he murmured. "Some are faster than others, but I prefer to go slow and take my time. Anythin' worthwhile takes time. Gotta show it respect, gotta care for it."

His low and sultry tone made your face flush, forgetting for a moment you were talking about woodworking.

"Y-yeah," you stammered, clearing your throat. Suddenly, you were feeling short of breath. "That makes sense."

He gazed down at you for another moment, his eyes slowly raking over your face as if committing it to memory before speaking again. Your entire body felt hot, and you cursed yourself for wearing such a thick sweater.

"Ready to go upstairs?" he murmured, still staring at you in a way that made your spine tingle.

"Huh?" you whispered, completely entranced by his deep, brown eyes.

"The presents?" he reminded you with a small smirk.

"Oh, right," you said, finally blinking and looking away. You shakily opened your water bottle after he turned around to lead you to the stairs, your mouth suddenly extremely dry.

As you walked up the steps, you tried to get a look at the pictures that lined the wall, but it was difficult to do without tripping. You thought you had finally gotten your head on straight after that moment in the kitchen, but when you realized he was leading you to his bedroom, you felt the tremble return to your hands.

"Sorry, had to hide everythin' in my closet, she's too nosy," he said over his shoulder.

"No problem," you squeaked, trying not to stare at his neatly made bed. Your eyes briefly drifted over the end tables filled with personal effects. You thought you saw a chapstick, a cord for a phone charger, and a worn paperback book, but you didn't want him to catch you, so you looked away quickly.

He opened his closet and you were surprised to find his clothes packed away so neatly. For a bachelor, he kept a really clean house. He pulled out the bags of gifts from the shelf above his clothes, then the wrapping paper, which was leaning against the corner.

"D'you think we got enough room?" he asked, glancing around at the floor.

"Yeah, of course," you said, sitting down crossed legged on the carpet. You reached out for the wrapping paper and rolled it out in front of you as he sat down at your side, taking out her gifts one by one. You felt yourself involuntarily clench as you watched his large hands deftly lay out each item on the floor, his muscles twitching slightly under the tanned skin of his exposed forearms.

"I know what you're thinkin'," he said, and your eyes widened in surprise. "I spoil her, I know, but she's such a good kid, I can't help myself."

That was definitely not what you were thinking, but you chose to keep that to yourself.

"I think it's sweet," you told him. "You seem like a really good dad."

Now it was his turn to blush. He tried to turn his head away so you wouldn't see, murmuring his thanks as you each picked an item to start. After a quick tutorial, which included way too much tape and ripped paper, Joel finally seemed to get the technique down. It only took until about halfway through the pile for you to muster up the courage to bring up a topic you couldn't help but be curious about.

"So," you began, hoping you came off nonchalant. "Is Sarah with her mom this Christmas, or..."

Joel's fingers fumbled for a moment with the wrapping paper, but he quickly recovered.

"Uh, no," he replied, keeping his eyes cast down on the shoe box in front of him. "She's not in Sarah's life anymore."

"Oh," you said, unable to keep the surprise from your voice, but you didn't push him any further. Your mind was scrambling, trying to think of something else to talk about, when he sighed and leaned back, abandoning the gift.

"I'm sorry, this is all so new to me, I probably should've told you about her sooner," he said, feeling guilty, but you quickly shook your head.

"No, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he said, cutting you off. You clamped your mouth shut and turned your body so you could give him your full attention, leaving the hair dryer you were wrapping on the floor next to you.

He drew a shaky breath in and looked up at the ceiling before speaking.

"There's not much to say, really. I'm still not always sure what happened," he began. You nodded, staying quiet and letting him take his time. "We were together since high school, ended up stayin' together after graduation. Sarah was a surprise, we were both still so young but we made it work. It was hard, but once me and Tommy got the business goin', it made things a bit easier."

Your fingers tangled together in your lap as you listened, refusing to say anything until he was done. His gaze drifted towards a fixed point on the wall as he continued.

"From what I gathered, she felt like havin' Sarah so young robbed her from doin' certain things in life," he said heavily. "Said she couldn't do it anymore. Didn't want her life to pass her by and be full of regret."

You bit your lip. The pain was clear as day on his face and it was making your chest ache.

"Well, anyway. I thought maybe she would go off for a couple months, do whatever it was she thought she was missin' out on. Parties, college... other men," he added the last part quietly, and you dropped your gaze to the floor. "Get it out of her system, y'know? But she just... never came back. Eventually, the calls came less and less, and I put two and two together. Didn't even get a courtesy call before I got served with the papers."

He rubbed his eyes, trying so hard not to look like a blubbering idiot in front of you. You reached your hand out and placed it gently on his knee, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He dropped his hand from his face to cover yours, staring at your coupled hands for a moment.

"Joel-"

"It was just so fuckin' hard on Sarah, y'know?" he said, his voice cracking. "I had no idea what to tell her. She cried almost every night, askin' me why her mom didn't love her anymore."

"Oh, Joel," you whispered, unable to hold back any longer. You closed the small gap between you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him into your chest, your fingers gently raking through his hair. "I'm so sorry," you told him, burying your nose in the hair on top of his head, breathing in the citrus scent from his shampoo.

He didn't say a word. He just tugged you closer and closed his eyes, leaning into your comforting touch with a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry," he finally managed to croak out. "I'm throwin' way too much at you, I know you didn't sign up for this."

"Shh," you whispered into his hair, then tilted his face up to look at you, his dark brown eyes glassy with unshed tears. "It's okay," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. A solitary tear slipped down his cheek when he pulled back to look deep into your eyes.

"It's okay," you repeated, wiping away the tear with the pad of your thumb before placing another gentle kiss against his lips.

He hummed contently against your mouth, sliding his hand up to the back of your neck and pressing his lips more firmly against your own, scared to let you go because if he did, he was sure he would fall apart.

Your grip on his hair tightened as he leaned forward, one strong arm wrapped around your midsection and the other pressed against your back. You mumbled something against his mouth when he tried to lay you down and knocked over a small pile of DVDs.

"Fuck," he whispered and, oh god, the way he said it made your legs turn to jelly and your cheeks flare with heat.

Frustrated, he tightened his grip around you and lifted you up, refusing to break the kiss. A tiny, high pitched squeak slipped past your lips as you wrapped your legs around his hips, letting him carry you to his bed.

He laid you down carefully on top of his plush, navy striped comforter. You sighed into his mouth, your legs loosening around his waist and falling open while you dragged your hands out of his hair and down to his shoulders, wrapping your fingers around his biceps to keep him close. He hovered above you, balancing all his weight on his elbows while his fingers played with the ends of your impossibly soft hair.

He slipped his tongue easily past your lips with a low groan, the noise going straight to your core, making the ache between your legs almost painful while your tongue danced with his, the two already so familiar with each other.

You tipped your head back with a gasp, desperate for air, but he kept going, unable to stop himself. His lips brushed against your jaw before his teeth and prickly beard scraped against the sensitive skin behind your earlobe. You let out a needy whimper and arched your back at the sensation, pushing your breasts into his broad chest as goosebumps spread over your whole body.

"Oh god, Joel," you whined softly, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Yeah, baby?" he replied, his voice thick and muffled against your neck. Baby. Jesus, this man was unraveling you so fast, it was making your head spin.

"I-I know we said this was casual, but-" the words got trapped in your throat as you cut yourself off, unable to finish your thought.

"I know," he said, his voice strained. "Fuck, I know."

He lifted his head away from your neck as he stared down at you, patting your hair back and away from your face as he panted slightly for breath.

You looked up at him, eyes watering as you tried not to think about your time coming to an end in a couple short weeks. You could tell he was thinking the same but didn't want to say it, the pain behind his eyes was obvious.

He blinked a couple times, the clouds clearing as he forced himself to focus on the present. He had you here in his arms, in his bed, underneath him right now. And he was going to be damned if he didn't soak up every single second.

He leaned back down and locked his lips on yours again, this time moving slower, more gentle and tender. He wanted to treat you right. You deserved it, and he wasn't going to give you anything less than what you deserved while he still had you.

You loosened your grip on his arms and allowed your hands to drift to the buttons of his flannel, slowly and shakily undoing them. His heart began to slam against his chest when he realized what you were doing, his mind going fuzzy with desire.

He pulled his head back when you were about halfway down his shirt, looking down hazily at your fingers working open the buttons as he desperately tried to think straight.

"Dad?" Sarah called from downstairs, the front door slamming shut. "Are you here?"

"Shit," Joel mumbled, scrambling off of you as he clumsily tried to redo his buttons. You jumped off the bed, leaning over so you could see into the mirror above his dresser, raking your hands through your tangled hair and quickly fixing your sweater.

"Yeah!" Joel shouted back, glancing over at you to make sure you were decent. "Sorry," he whispered, but you just grinned. Then his eyes fell to the half wrapped presents on the floor.

"Wait! Don't come up-" he called out as he heard her skipping up the steps. Joel grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the room, closing the door behind you both just in time.

"What? Why?" Sarah asked, then froze when she saw you. She looked up at Joel, then back to you, and a slow smile spread across her face.

"Ohhh..." she said with her hands on her hips. "Now I see."

"N-no, it's not what it looks like, she was just helpin' me wrap some gifts," Joel stammered, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. You shifted your weight nervously as you looked back and forth between them.

"Then why are you missing a button on your shirt?"

You both glanced down at his flannel, and she was right. He missed fixing a button in all the chaos. Your face flushed beet red as you stared at the ground while Joel hurriedly fixed the button, cursing under his breath. When you dared to look back up at his daughter, she was smirking playfully at you. Joel cleared his throat.

"Sarah, this is-"

"Yeah, I know, I remember from the party. The pretty dress, right?" she asked, and you nodded.

"Yeah, that's right. Nice to see you again," you said awkwardly.

She nodded, still smirking and looking at you and Joel. You could tell she loved catching her dad in this uncomfortable situation.

"Oh, crap. I forgot. Uncle Tommy is waiting for you in the driveway, said he needed your help unloading some work stuff out from the back of his truck," Sarah said.

"Ah, dammit, alright. You okay for a couple minutes?" he asked you, eyebrows raised.

"Of course," you said. He nodded, walking down the hall past Sarah, muttering "be good" to her as he walked by.

You listened as Joel made his way down the stairs and out the front door, leaving you and Sarah in silence, still staring at one another.

"I'm sorry, we really were wrapping gifts," you assured her.

"It's okay," she said with a shrug. "Last year he used duct tape on my presents, I know he needs the help."

You giggled, causing her to laugh, as well.

"Do you play an instrument?" you asked, just noticing the case on the floor next to her feet.

"Yeah, violin. I had practice after school today," she said, picking it up.

"Oh, cool. I played piano growing up, but I was never any good," you said, sliding your hands in the back pockets of your jeans.

"I have my school's Christmas recital on Friday," she said. "My first solo."

"Oh my god!" you said, clapping your hands together, genuinely impressed. "That's incredible! You must be so excited!"

"Yeah, at first, but now I'm getting nervous," she said, glancing down at the case in her hand. "You wanna hear me play?"

"Duh. Absolutely," you said with a grin. Her eyes lit up and a huge smile spread across her face again.

"O-okay. This is my room right here," she said, turning to her right and opening the door. "Sorry it's messy, my dad's gonna kill me."

"It's totally fine," you said, walking in and sitting down at the edge of her bed. You glanced around the room as she set up her music stand. On the pink walls, she had posters up of her favorite bands with a calendar and string lights draped across the room.

"I really like your room," you said, squinting to look at the stickers and drawings she had on her headboard.

"Thanks," she said sheepishly. "My dad let me do whatever I wanted."

You were about to comment on the various trophies she had on her windowsill when Sarah spoke again.

"Just so you know, I don't mind that you're seeing my dad."

Your eyes shot up to hers in surprise, not sure what to say. You hadn't really had a chance to talk to Joel about your relationship and how that would affect his daughter.

"He's been in such a good mood this past week, and he won't tell me but I know it's because of you," she said, pinning you with a familiar brown gaze.

"Oh, that's so sweet, Sarah," you said, finally finding your voice. "Thank you. That means a lot."

"You're welcome," she said. "I just want him to be happy again."

You dropped your gaze to your lap, your chest tightening at the thought of Joel being so lonely all these years.

"Me, too," you whispered, still looking down. Sarah regarded you for a minute before slapping her palms against the tops of her thighs and leaned down to pick up her violin.

"You ready?" she asked. You looked up and nodded, giving her an encouraging smile and sat back to listen as she began playing a hauntingly beautiful version of 'Silent Night'.

Sarah got about halfway through the song when she hit the wrong note and abruptly stopped, dropping her chin to her chest in frustration.

"Hey, it's okay," Joel heard you say softly as he walked back up the stairs. He paused at the top, right outside Sarah's room to listen.

"It's okay to make mistakes. Just go slower, take your time. Anything worthwhile takes time," you told her, and he smiled when he heard his earlier words to you repeated back to his daughter. He took a step forward to lean against the doorframe and watch the two of you, your back to him as you sat on her bed.

"Okay," Sarah said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes before lifting the violin to her chin and starting over.

Joel listened to Sarah play the same song he's heard a million times already in just the past month alone, but kept his eyes trained on you. The way you gave her your full, undivided attention and encouraged her with a smile or a thumbs up when she would glance over at you shyly made his chest ache.

When Sarah successfully finished the song with no mistakes, you jumped up from the bed, clapping and cheering for her, making Sarah giggle and hide behind her hands.

Fuck, this was going to be so hard.

"Dad?" Sarah asked the next morning over her bowl of cereal.

"Yeah, baby girl?" he replied, frowning as he pulled his bread from the toaster. He sucked his fingertips into his mouth, trying to bring some relief to the quickly reddening skin.

"Can your friend come to my recital tomorrow?"

Joel froze, his fingers still pressed against his tongue as he slowly turned around to look at her. He dropped his hand and took a deep breath.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," he replied.

"You don't think she would wanna go?" Sarah asked, her eyebrows pinched together.

"No, it's not that, I'm sure she would," he said, trying to find the right words.

"Then what's the problem?"

Joel sighed and picked his mug up from the counter, then walked over to join her at the table.

"She doesn't live here, baby. She's goin' back to New York in another week or so, I don't want you gettin' too attached," he finally admitted, watching Sarah closely as she considered his words.

"Well, you guys like each other, right?" she asked, and Joel smirked.

"Yeah, but it ain't that simple."

"Yes, it is, Dad," she said, rolling her eyes and dipping her spoon back into her bowl. "My friend Katy was dating this guy last year and he switched schools over the summer. They're still together, it doesn't matter," Sarah said with a shrug, taking a bite of cereal.

If the topic didn't fill Joel with a sense of dread, he would have chuckled at the comparison, but instead he just sat there quietly, watching his daughter as she finished her cereal and scrolled on her phone.

Sarah pulled on her backpack and was sliding on her sneakers to catch the bus when she called back to Joel over her shoulder.

"Just ask her, okay? Please, Dad?"

Joel sighed, hanging his head between his shoulders and paused his hands over the dishes in the sink.

"Alright," he relented, and he heard Sarah clap her hands behind him before slamming the front door shut.

You: good morning :)

Joel Miller: Good Morning, sweetheart. I didn't think you would be up this early.

You: couldn't fall back asleep. What are you doing

Joel Miller: Just getting to work. Why couldn't you fall back asleep?

You thought about it for a minute from under the pile of blankets on your bed, rolling to your side before answering.

You: I was thinking about you...

Joel Miller: Good thoughts, I hope?

You: VERY ;)

His throat went dry when he opened the text. He glanced around outside his car window, making sure he was still the only one on the job site before replying.

Joel Miller: What are you trying to tell me, baby?

You smirked and bit down on your lip.

You: I was wishing you were in bed with me right now

"Shit," he muttered to himself, glancing around once again before adjusting his pants.

Joel Miller: Me too, what are you wearing?

The answer came back almost immediately.

You: nothing

He groaned and rubbed his palms roughly over his face.

Joel Miller: You're killing me, baby. I have to get working in a minute.

You: i'm sorry ;)

You: I promised my parents I would go to dinner with them tonight, but are you free tomorrow?

Joel took a deep breath, trying to clear the onslaught of inappropriate thoughts from his head when he remembered his promise to Sarah.

Joel Miller: It's Sarah's recital tomorrow night. She asked me to invite you this morning, did you want to go?

He nervously chewed his cheek for a moment before sending another text.

Joel Miller: No pressure, I can tell her you're busy.

He sent his second text right as your reply came through.

You: I would love to!

He grinned and raked his fingers through his hair. Tommy's knuckles tapped on the outside of Joel's window, making him jump. He held up a finger before sending you a quick answer.

Joel Miller: Sounds great. I'll pick you up. Try to go back to sleep. Dream of me.

Joel opened the door and slid his phone in his back pocket, a stupid grin etched across his face as he joined his brother in the half-built storefront they were working on.

"Oh man, you got it bad," Tommy said with a chuckle when he saw the look on Joel's face.

"Alright, what do you think of this one?" you asked Cassie as you stepped out of the bathroom modeling the sixth dress of the day.

"I liked the red one better," she said, glancing up from her phone.

"Are you sure? This one is a little more chic," you said, twisting around to look at your backside in the mirror.

"It's a high school recital, Buck. I don't think anyone is expecting 'chic'," she teased, and you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I just want to look nice, is all," you said, sitting next to her on your bed in a huff. You tapped your phone screen, frowning when all you had was another text from Sydney and nothing from Joel. You opened it up anyway, curiosity getting the best of you.

Sydney: OMG!!!!!!

You sent back three question marks and locked your phone with a sigh.

"You still wanna get together next week so we can look at apartments online for you?" she asked.

"Yeah," you said sadly, looking out the window.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you told her. "Just not ready to go back yet."

"Could that be because of a certain sexy contractor?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Shut up," you smirked, tossing a pillow at her lightly.

"Ooo you like him! Lookit how red you're getting!"

"I'm gonna kill you when that baby's out, you know that, right?" you giggled.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Cassie said, looking back down at her phone as the smile slowly faded from her face. "You know you don't have to go back, right?"

"What do you mean? My job is there, my life is there... everything is there," you replied. "Of course I have to go back."

"What life, though?" she asked, and you frowned at her. "Seriously, Buck. Aside from your job, which you hate, what's left?"

"Well, my friends are there. And I don't hate my job that much. I mean, everyone hates their job a little bit," you said with a shrug.

"Is this what you expected to do when you were in college? Is this what you wanted?" Cassie pressed, sitting up on the bed. "Are you even happy?"

You paused, letting her words roll around in your head for a moment.

"Well, I mean..." you trailed off, not sure how to answer her question.

"If you have to think about it this long, I think you know the answer," your sister said quietly. You groaned and rolled off the bed.

"I'm going back. I have to. I can't just give up because some guy broke my heart," you said, turning around so she could unzip the back of your dress.

"I'm just saying, think about it," Cassie replied. "I wouldn't hate it if my child's aunt was in their life more than twice a year!" she called after you as you shut the door to the bathroom.

Joel eagerly jogged up the porch steps and rang the doorbell, very aware of the camera this time while he fiddled with the cuffs on his dark red button down shirt. He heard high heels clicking on the other side of the door and the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile, which quickly vanished when you opened the door and he saw the dress you were wearing.

"Hi," you said with a shy smile, pulling a soft looking white cardigan on over your shoulders.

He thought he had greeted you. He could have sworn he said something, anything, that didn't make him look like a complete idiot, but apparently nothing came out because you scrunched your eyebrows together when you saw his face.

"Are you okay?" you asked, pulling the door shut behind you.

"Yeah, it's just - Jesus, you look so good," he managed to finally say, tilting his head back to stare up at the roof of the porch for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"Thank you," you said with a giggle. "You don't look half bad, yourself."

He rubbed his forehead, exasperated and flustered before pulling you quickly into his arms and latching his mouth onto yours with a groan.

"Joel," you pulled back breathlessly with a small smile and leaned your head to the side, trying to silently remind him of the doorbell. His eyes raked over you hungrily before shaking his head and pulling you back into a deep kiss.

Fuck the camera, let them see.

You giggled against his mouth, causing him to smile and break the kiss.

"Come on, I wanna get good seats," you said, rubbing your thumb over his lower lip to wipe off your lipstick that transferred. It caused his stomach to clench. That sweet, little intimate gesture made him ache for more so badly that he could hardly breathe.

He walked you around the front of his truck, opening the door and giving you a hand so you could hop onto the seat, the gorgeous red dress you were wearing hugging your curves just right and distracting him to no end.

On the walk around to the driver's side, he mentally scolded himself, reminding himself over and over that tonight was a big deal for his little girl and he needed to stay focused.

As he drove down the street, he realized that his hand instinctively found yours across the seat, his body craving the warmth and softness of your own. How on earth was he going to go back to the life he had before, now that he knows what it's like to bask in the heat of your touch?

Once he got to the school, he found a parking spot and jumped out of the truck. You had figured out by now that he preferred you to wait so he could open the car door for you, so you did. Swinging your legs over the side of the seat, you slid down into his waiting arms, your hands gently coming to rest on the tops of his shoulders. He gazed down at you with his arms loosely hanging around your waist. You saw his adam's apple bob in his throat while he let himself get lost in your warm, beautiful eyes. You lifted a finger from his shoulder, tracing an invisible line down the side of his cheek as you stared up at him with your plush lips parted so invitingly that it made his knees weak.

"Joel! Hey!" Tommy's voice called out from behind, snapping you both out of the moment. Joel sighed and untangled himself from you, taking your hand and leading you forward so he could shut the door before turning around to find his brother.

You could see the family resemblance immediately as Tommy approached you with a wide grin. His hair was a bit darker and a lot longer, and his beard was less full than Joel's, but he had the same soft, brown eyes that you had grown to know and love.

Love? Oh, no.

"Hey, Tommy," Joel said as he got closer, his hand pressed firmly on the small of your back. "This is-"

"Oh, I know who she is. How're you doin', darlin'?" Tommy asked, pulling you into a bear hug, taking you by surprise.

"I-I'm good," you squeaked shyly once he released you. "Nice to meet you."

"I've been dyin' to meet the little lady who's got my brother all wrapped up," he replied with a grin.

"Tommy!" Joel seethed warningly at your side, but you just giggled.

"I'm just messin' around. She knows that, right?" he said, shoving his hands in his coat pocket and rolling on the balls of his feet. "Supposed to snow next week, can you believe it?"

"Yeah, I heard we might get a couple feet," Joel said, steering you toward the doors to the auditorium. "Better get your shovel ready."

You settled in between the two brothers as you found a decent spot in the fourth row. Joel draped his arm around the back of your chair while he chatted with Tommy about work. You inadvertently leaned to the side and rested your shoulder against his chest as you glanced around the room, admiring the lit up garlands around the windows and Christmas trees on the stage with fake presents underneath.

When their conversation died down, Tommy pulled out his phone and began scrolling through social media, holding it low between his spread knees with his chin tucked into his chest.

Joel tilted his face forward to press his lips on the top of your head, breathing in a deep and contented breath. A small smile played across your lips as you turned your gaze up towards him, resting your cheek gently on his shoulder. He looked down at you with a smile and planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, and as each of you slid your eyes closed for a moment, Tommy angled his phone to snap a quick picture, smiling to himself and making a mental note to show his brother later.

The lights dimmed and you all straightened up in your seats. You listened to the music teacher make a small speech at the beginning and politely clapped afterwards. You saw Sarah twice throughout the concert as part of the orchestra, smiling at how focused and beautiful she looked in her white dress. As the concert wound down, Sarah finally came out on stage for her solo, and the three of you eagerly leaned forward. At the last minute, you remembered to pull out your phone and start a video, telling yourself you were doing it for Joel so that he could be in the moment, but you knew you would end up watching it by yourself when you went back to New York City.

The performance was flawless. When it was over, the three of you lept up from your seats, cheering, jumping and clapping, making her wave and blush as she exited the stage. You sat down, giggling, as the people surrounding you gave you all polite smiles and chuckles, then quieted down for the finale.

When the lights came back up, everyone stood from their seats, murmuring and laughing while waiting for their kids to come out from backstage and take pictures. You saw a flash of white out of the corner of your eye and moved out of the way just in time for Sarah to run and jump up into Joel's arms, burying her face in his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut, his arms wrapped around her tightly, murmuring praise in her ear. You felt warmth spread across your chest as you watched them have their moment, the corners of your mouth turned up into a smile with your hands clasped together against your chest.

He let her down gently and she turned to give Tommy a quick hug. He spun her around, making her giggle and fidget with her dress before she turned to you.

"You came!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms loosely around your waist. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting such affection from her, but you quickly returned the hug.

"Of course I came! Thank you for inviting me," you said, pulling back with a grin. "You were absolutely perfect, I took a video, I'll send it to your dad so he can show you later."

"I did exactly what you told me, I slowed down and took my time," she beamed, and it gave you a new feeling deep in your chest that you never felt before.

"That's great, Sarah," you replied, your throat tight with emotion. Tommy dropped his gaze from you and ticked his jaw to the side, finally understanding why Joel was hesitant to let Sarah know about the two of you.

"Dad?" Sarah asked, turning away from you. "Can I sleep over at Katy's? She's having a bunch of girls over and her mom said it was okay."

"Uh, sure, baby girl. Don't you need clothes and stuff?"

"I have stuff I keep here in my locker for gym," she said.

"Well, alright, lemme talk to her mom first," he replied, glancing around the room.

"Thank you! She's right over here," she said, grabbing his hand. "Thanks for coming!" she called back last minute over her shoulder to you and Tommy, and you both smiled and waved as she dragged her father across the room.

"She's so talented," you said, turning to Tommy. He looked down at you and gave you a weak smile.

"Yeah, she's somethin' else," he said with a nod. "Hey, listen. I'm havin' a get together next week at my house. Little Christmas party, I guess. I invited a guy I met at your parents' house - Josh? He's comin' with his wife, Joel and Sarah'll be there, I'd love for you to come by if you can."

"Josh is my brother in law," you clarified for him. "That sounds great, I'll be there, thank you."

"You're welcome," Tommy said, then his brows pinched together as he opened his mouth again to speak. "Joel might kill me for sayin' this, but you gotta know how happy you've -"

"Ready to go?" Joel asked, sneaking up beside you. Tommy cleared his throat and gave his brother an innocent smile.

"Yep," you replied, dropping your hand to find his at your side, lacing your fingers together and giving him a gentle squeeze.

After saying goodbye to Tommy, Joel slowly led you through the parking lot to his truck, desperately trying to think of something else you could do, not ready to drop you off yet. He knew the time you had together was coming to an end, and he wanted to soak up every precious second. Especially after the way he saw you with Sarah: so warm and sweet and patient. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his daughter's eyes light up that way.

He prided himself on being a good father since his wife left. Always making sure to put Sarah first, that she got everything she could ever want or need. Especially his love. When his ex abandoned them, he made sure Sarah got every ounce of love he had, hoping it would help make up for the loss. But as hard as he tried, he could never fully fill both roles. There were just some things that a mother provided for her daughter that Joel couldn't give.

He didn't realize it until he saw you with Sarah earlier that night, and then it felt like everything shifted into focus for the first time in his life.

He held out his hand to help you get back into his truck, making sure your legs were safely tucked in before he gently shut the door.

Sitting in the driver's seat gripping the steering wheel, he stared straight ahead for a moment in complete silence, the keys still in his coat pocket while his mind reeled.

"Is everything okay?" you asked timidly. He blinked and turned to you.

"Yeah," he said hoarsely. He swallowed and looked at his watch.

"You wanna get coffee or somethin'? I know it's gettin' late but I'm sure some place's open," he said, deep in thought as he considered the caf��s nearby.

"Don't you have coffee at your house?" you asked shyly. His eyes snapped up to yours and he saw the flush creeping up your neck and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

Oh.

"Yeah, yes," he croaked, nervously clearing his throat. "Let's do that. I have- yeah, good idea," he stammered, fumbling with the keys in his pocket.

You smirked as you watched his shaky hand turn the key in the ignition. He twisted around to back out of the parking spot, and this time you gave into temptation, unbuckling your seatbelt so you could slide over and tuck yourself under his arm. He immediately pulled you closer, not even caring that you weren't wearing your seatbelt. He would make sure to drive safe. Nothing could possibly ruin that night. He wouldn't let it.

At stop lights, you would run your hand up his chest and plant small kisses against the corner of his mouth, filling him with a radiating bliss he never felt before.

Once you got back to his house, you shrugged off your sweater and trailed behind him as he made his way into the kitchen. You leaned against the wall and watched as he opened one of the cupboards - the one with the small birds carved into the bottom - and pulled down a can of coffee.

"I don't think I have any decaf," he said turning to look at you.

"I don't want coffee, Joel," you said lowly. He swallowed roughly and put the can on the counter.

"What d'you want, then?"

You pushed yourself off the wall and slowly walked towards him, his eyes skating up and down your body as you approached. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you tilted your face up to gaze at him, your mouth hovering over his own.

"I want you."

His eyes fluttered closed as your lips slotted against his, his rough hands immediately coming up to cup your smooth face, holding you firmly against his mouth. Christ, he would never get tired of kissing you. If he could do it every single day for the rest of his life, he would. He knew it seemed crazy. He knew you just met, but he couldn't help the way you made him feel.

"Let's go upstairs," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.

He couldn't speak. He just nodded in a daze and let you lead him coyly up the steps, then turned around to walk backwards down the hall towards his bedroom so you could pull him tightly against your body. His big hands gripped your waist while his tongue slipped past your lips, searching for its mate.

You reached behind you blindly, your hand fighting with the doorknob as his big frame caged you in against the wood, his masculine scent invading your senses and making it difficult to think. Finally, the door swung open and you both stumbled in, a giggle erupting from your throat as your fingers got to work undoing the buttons on his dress shirt.

You hurriedly tugged his button down off, leaving it in a heap on the floor as you slid your palms underneath the white t-shirt he had on, feeling the warm skin of his stomach and chest for the first time.

"Off," you whispered, your heart getting stuck in your throat when he yanked the shirt over his head, leaving his upper body completely bare to you. Your mouth went dry as you drank him in, then lunged forward, your lips brushing up his sternum until you reached his collarbone. You sucked on a bit of tanned skin there with a moan, then slipped your tongue out to press wetly against the red mark you left, feeling drunk off the taste of his sweat.

He gently pushed you backwards so he could ease you down onto his bed, his breath growing erratic and desperate with each little bite you left on his chest. God, has anyone ever desired him this much before? Has he really been missing out on this his entire life?

"Baby, we're gonna have to stop soon if you don't want this to go any further," he murmured. He found himself in the familiar position of hovering above you while his hand slid down your leg and toyed with the hem of your dress.

"I don't think I can take much more, tell me to stop," he whispered when you didn't answer, running the tip of his nose softly against your cheek.

"I don't want you to stop," you gasped as his fingers slipped underneath your dress. You tilted your head back and moaned when you felt his fingertips brush against the damp fabric of your panties.

His mouth hungrily devoured the exposed cleavage of your breasts, growing frustrated with the fabric of your dress keeping him from seeing all of you.

"Sit up," he demanded, leaning back and pulling his hand from between your legs. You obeyed, and he made short work of your zipper, pulling it all the way down so you could shimmy out, leaving you in just your underwear.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered when he realized you weren't wearing a bra. You let yourself fall back gently on the bed, spreading your arms out above your head so he could see every inch of you in the moonlight.

He couldn't believe this was actually happening. He kept waiting for his alarm to go off and reality to slap him across the face, but it never came. His heart was pounding so fast, he was sure you could hear it as he leaned back down and nibbled at your exposed jaw while his calloused hand cupped your soft breast, his thumb flicking over your hardening nipple.

You scraped your nails over his shoulders and down his chest as you arched your back, pressing into his hand, needing to feel the heat of his skin against your own. Your stomach flipped as you made your way down to his belt, and with shaky fingers, pulled hastily at the leather.

Yanking the belt through the loops with one swift motion, you flung it across the room, making him chuckle against your skin. When you started to work on popping open the button on his dress pants, a devastating thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Shit, wait," he said, putting his hand on top of yours. You frowned up at him, your chest heaving, as you gave him a confused look.

"I don't have any protection," he said through gritted teeth. He hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut angrily. "I-I haven't been with anyone since my ex, and I never thought... fuck," he said, clenching his jaw.

You weighed your options for about half a second before tugging his chin up, forcing him to look at you.

"I'm still on birth control," you told him, searching his eyes. "I mean, only if you're comfortable with it, we don't have to," you said, but in your head you were chanting please, please, please.

"Are you sure?" he asked, panting for air. "I don't wanna make you feel like -"

"Yes," you said, cutting him off by grabbing his face. "Yes. I'm sure, Joel. Please," you whimpered, pulling him back down to you, his mouth crashing down on yours again.

"Please," you whispered again, tipping your head back as his lips left a trail of soft kisses down your throat. "Please, Joel, I need you."

His mouth stuttered against your neck. Hearing you beg and say you needed him when he never thought he would ever be needed like this in his whole life made his mind go blank.

"Okay," he rasped. "Okay, baby."

He tugged at the zipper on his black pants and pulled them off as quickly as he could without leaving you. You reached down to help him, hooking your fingers over the band of his boxers and shoving them down. He kicked them off before yanking down your panties, dropping them on the floor next to his clothes.

You eagerly spread your legs so he could settle his hips between them. You glanced down with a small gasp when you saw the size of him and you felt your cheeks flare. Jesus Christ.

He didn't seem to notice your reaction when he was too wrapped up in staring at the wet heat between your legs, pulsing and waiting, just for him. He slid a finger gently between your folds, making you moan and your back arch. Fuck, he loved how responsive you were to his touch.

He readjusted so he was kneeling between your legs. His palms slid up your calves, past your knees and to your inner thighs, pressing them down into the mattress so you were spread wide.

He lined himself up at your center, glancing up at you quickly to make sure you were ready. You swallowed and nodded, your eyes filled with desire, desire for him, something he still couldn't fathom but decided not to question. He pressed forward gently, notching himself against you before falling forward on his elbows.

He kissed the tip of your nose as he eased himself inside you, pausing when he heard you gasp and felt you tense under him.

"More," you finally croaked, your nails coming up to rake against his scalp. He let out the breath he was holding and pushed in further, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth falling open as he felt you slowly stretch around him so perfectly, like you were made just for him.

"Oh, god," he sighed, dropping his face to the crook of your neck after he fully sheathed himself inside you. He dragged his mouth across your chest, leaving a wet trail from his tongue and red marks from his scratchy beard in his wake. He waited until he felt your muscles relax under him before he slowly rolled his hips, dragging himself in and out as his teeth scraped over your tightening nipples. You moaned his name softly, the sound permanently etched in his brain, a sound he will refuse to forget for the rest of his life.

He began to roll his hips faster at your encouragement, becoming obsessed with the way you felt and the sounds you made, and it was all for him. He spent so much of his life giving to everyone around him, he never truly felt like anyone was able or willing to give him what he needed in return until now. The recognition was depressing and freeing at the same time. Now that he finally had what he always wanted, what he always needed, he was going to lose you and there was nothing he could do about it.

Each moan from your throat and each kiss from your lips dragged him down deeper and deeper until he collided head first with the stunning, yet so painfully obvious, realization that he was deliriously in love with you. It was insane, he knew that. But it didn't make it any less true.

"Joel," you gasped, pulling him out of his trance and back to the present.

"Yeah, baby? I'm here. I'm right here," he whispered, planting soft kisses all over your face.

You bit down on your lower lip and squeezed your eyes shut. The sheer intensity behind his gaze coupled with the agony of only getting to experience this for one more short week made tears burn in the backs of your eyes.

You felt your orgasm begin to swell deep in your belly while your breath became more ragged and your vision went spotty. It shouldn't feel this good. This was cruel, to be able to experience something like this just to have it brutally ripped away from you. It wasn't fair, yet you never wanted it to stop.

He could feel it. It's been years, and it was never, ever like this, but he still knew. The way you whimpered and clawed at his back while your walls squeezed him so tightly, he thought he might pass out.

"Open your eyes," he panted. "I wanna look at you."

You forced your eyes open, now unable to hold back the tears that pooled there as two drops trickled down the side of your face, getting lost in your hair.

"It's okay, I got you," he whispered lovingly, staring deep into your eyes, seeing everything you didn't dare say out loud.

"You can let go, baby," he told you, his hips snapping against you ruthlessly, desperate to come at the same time.

You felt the wave rip through you like fire, the power and emotion behind it unlike anything you ever felt before. More tears poured from your eyes as you cried out his name, your thighs squeezing his hips so tightly you weren't sure you would be able to stand after.

He followed seconds later with a deep groan, spilling himself deep inside you while murmuring praise and wiping away your tears with his thumb.

"Why're you cryin', did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with so much concern that it broke your heart. You shook your head, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, but fresh ones just took their place.

"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, leaning up a bit as he softened inside you.

"What are we gonna do, Joel?" you blubbered pathetically. He took a shaky breath in and tenderly tucked your hair behind your ear.

"I don't know, baby, but we'll figure somethin' out. We gotta," he said with a sigh.

"I can't lose you," you whispered, pressing your forehead against his and closing your eyes.

"You'll never lose me, I can promise you that," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss against your swollen lips.

He waited until your tears slowed down before sliding out of you with a hiss. Rolling off to your side, he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you close against his chest, and as you finally drifted off in his embrace, he thought about all of the options available before you, determined to find a solution.

Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @wonyoungismind @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin - lmk if i missed anyone, if your name is crossed out it means it won't let me tag you

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 33: Let Me Be There

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Rating: T (for mild language and themes of illness/recovery)

Warnings: Mentions of past harassment/stalking, mild angst, reader being stubborn about their health

Summary: Back in Connecticut, the stress of securing a permanent restraining order against Marcus takes its toll on you.

Welcome to the chapter 33 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

It had been two days since we got back to Connecticut, and in those forty-eight hours, my body had completely betrayed me.

The stress of dealing with the permanent restraining order against Marcus had been weighing me down since we landed. Even though the judge had granted it—thanks to the new evidence against him—it didn’t feel like relief. It felt like a wound that hadn’t even started healing yet.

Between barely eating, hardly sleeping, and pretending everything was fine, my immune system finally gave up.

And now, here I was.

Sick.

Miserable.

Hunched over in my dorm, wrapped in my thickest hoodie, shivering despite the heat being turned up. My throat felt like I had swallowed razor blades, my nose was both stuffy and runny, and my body ached like I had just played a full four quarters alone.

I knew I should tell Paige.

But I wouldn’t.

Because she had DePaul to worry about, and I wasn’t going to distract her.

10:45 AM – Paige’s Dorm

Paige wasn’t buying it.

“You’re sick.” She stood in front of me, arms crossed, brows furrowed in undeniable concern.

“I’m fine,” I croaked, immediately giving myself away. My throat burned like hell, and my voice sounded like I had been chain-smoking for a decade.

Paige’s expression softened, but her stance didn’t budge. “Babe, come on. You look miserable. Let me take care of you.”

I shook my head. “You have a game in two days. You can’t get sick.”

Paige let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her hair. “So what? You’d rather sit here suffering alone just so I can go hoop?”

I avoided her gaze, suddenly very interested in the loose thread on my sleeve.

“I’ll be fine,” I mumbled. “I just need to sleep it off.”

Paige stared at me, and I could feel the internal battle she was having. She wanted to argue, to fight me on it, but I saw the flicker of hesitation. She really couldn’t afford to get sick, and she knew it.

That didn’t mean she was going to just leave me alone.

“If you won’t let me stay, I’m calling in backup,” Paige declared, already reaching for her phone.

My eyes narrowed. “Paige—”

She smirked. “Too late.”

11:30 AM – My Dorm

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at my door.

When I dragged myself out of bed and opened it, Kayla stood there, grinning like she had just won the lottery.

“You look like hell,” she greeted.

I groaned. “You didn’t have to come.”

“Tell that to your overprotective girlfriend,” Kayla said, stepping inside and shutting the door. “She practically threatened me to get my ass over here.”

I sighed, trudging back toward my bed and collapsing onto it. “She’s dramatic.”

Kayla flopped down into my desk chair. “No, she’s in love with you and wants to make sure you don’t die of self-neglect.”

I buried my face in my pillow. “I hate both of you.”

Kayla laughed. “No, you don’t. Now, let’s get some fluids in you before Paige actually loses her mind.”

3:15 PM – My Dorm Still

“Here. Granny-approved.”

I blinked blearily at the steaming mug Kayla placed in front of me.

“You actually made it?” I rasped.

Kayla gave me a pointed look. “I followed your grandma’s instructions exactly. I even FaceTimed Paige so she could watch me make it.”

I rolled my eyes but took the mug, cradling it in my hands. The scent of citrus, ginger, and warm spices filled my nose. I hesitated before taking a small sip, the heat spreading through my chest immediately.

“Better?” Kayla asked.

I sighed, nodding. “Yeah.”

She grinned. “Good. Now, drink all of it before I call Paige back and tell her you’re being difficult.”

I glared. “You’re evil.”

Kayla smirked. “Nah. I’m just her eyes and ears while she’s gone.”

Game Day – 6:50 AM

I wasn’t 100%, but I was better.

Enough that I convinced Paige—and the coaching staff—that I could travel with the team to DePaul.

I still kept my distance, though.

Even on the bus, I made sure to sit a row behind Paige, by myself, far enough that she wouldn’t be in my germ radius. I avoided the usual pre-game hugs, the playful jabs from the team, even the way Paige reached for my hand as we boarded.

I didn’t miss the way she frowned.

I didn’t miss the way Azzi nudged her, whispering something under her breath.

But I had already made Paige compromise by letting me come. I wasn’t about to make her risk getting sick before an important game.

So, I stayed back.

Even when Paige sighed dramatically and sent me a text.

Paige: stop acting like I’m some fragile little thing. let me love you.

I smiled to myself but didn’t reply.

Because I knew Paige, and I knew she wasn’t going to let this go.

And sure enough, not even ten minutes later, she turned around in her seat, leaned over Azzi, and whispered, “Babe, if you don’t let me sit next to you, I’m making a scene.”

I raised a brow, locking eyes with her. “Make a scene then.”

Paige blinked. “Huh?”

“You heard me,” I challenged. “Go ahead. Make a scene.”

I thought she would back down. I really did.

But I forgot who my girlfriend was.

Without missing a beat, Paige stood up in the middle of the bus, threw her arms up dramatically, and yelled, “MY GIRLFRIEND DOESN’T LOVE ME ANYMORE!”

The entire bus froze.

Azzi immediately facepalmed. KK started wheezing. Ice burst out laughing. And miss Sarah she was giving heavy side eye.

“PAIGE—” I hissed, my face burning as the entire team turned to look at us.

“I just wanna sit next to my sick, stubborn, beautiful girlfriend, but she’s being so cold-hearted!” Paige continued, clutching her chest like she was in a soap opera.

Coach Geno turned from the front of the bus, looking entirely done with her antics. “Bueckers, sit your dramatic ass down.”

Snickering, Paige flopped into the seat beside me, grinning triumphantly. “Told you I’d make a scene.”

I groaned, hiding my face in my hoodie.

Paige just laughed, lacing our fingers together.

I didn’t stop her.

Back at Campus – Paige Bueckers: Full-Time baller, nope. How about Full- Time nurse, Part-Time simp

By now, I’d accepted my fate.

There was no escaping Nurse Paige.

The second we stepped back into my dorm, she had a full recovery plan ready.

Hydration? Handled.

Soup? Cooking in the mini rice cooker.

Medicine? Already sitting on my nightstand.

Cuddles? Pending, until I was “fully healed.”

“You’re worse than my grandma,” I muttered, sitting up in bed as Paige fluffed my pillows for the third time in an hour.

Paige gasped, offended. “Excuse you! I am a loving and attentive girlfriend, not some random granny.”

“That’s debatable.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Keep talking like that, and I’ll withhold the Jolly Ranchers I bought you.”

I gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

Paige smirked. “Try me.”

Before I could argue, my phone buzzed.

Group Chat: ‘UConn’s Finest’

Triple A: Not Paige ghosting us like we don’t have practice tomorrow.

Team mom: Is she even on campus??

Ice cube: She is. She’s just playing housewife rn.

Rah: Oh, she’s 100% in nurse mode. I give it two more hours before she starts spoon-feeding [Reader].

Triple A: Paige, defend yourself.

Paige peeked over my shoulder at my phone, then grinned as she grabbed hers from the nightstand.

A second later, my phone buzzed again.

Hot shot: y’all wish you had a girlfriend to take care of. stay mad. (Except Ayanna)

Fuzzy Fudd: Paige, that’s literally not the point-

Triple A: thanks, you simp. (Knowing I’m a simp too)

Hey Arnold: SIMP, both of y’all jus some simps.

I snorted, locking my phone and setting it aside. “They’re gonna bully you for weeks.”

Paige just shrugged. “Let them. I have more important things to do.”

She then proceeded to tuck me into my blankets like a burrito.

I sighed. This was my life now.

By the next evening, Paige was finally convinced I was on the mend—meaning I was allowed out of bed.

Our first low-energy activity?

Lego building.

Specifically, the tiny flower shop Lego set Paige had bought ‘for us’ but definitely wanted for herself.

“This is actually coming out cute,” I admitted, setting down the last window piece.

Paige beamed. “See? I told you we’re Lego masters.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You dropped a piece under the bed twice.”

“Shhh, it’s called the artistic process.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I reached for the remote. “Okay, what movie?”

“Ratatouille,” Paige said immediately.

“Predictable.”

“Iconic,” she corrected, pulling me into her arms as I hit play. “And the perfect cuddle movie.”

I sighed, relaxing into her hold. Finally, a quiet night.

At least, it was supposed to be.

Because just as we were settling in…

The door BURST open.

“YO, WHAT UP, LIVE?!”

Paige and I whipped around just in time to see KK Arnold standing there, phone in hand, on TikTok Live.

I groaned. “KK, no warning?!”

KK grinned, completely unbothered. “Gotta keep y’all on your toes!”

Before either of us could kick her out, the chat flooded with comments.

“NOT PAIGE BEING DOMESTIC”

“They were def having a date night omg”

“Y/n looks so done”

“KK the real MVP for interrupting them”

Paige facepalmed. “KK, why are you here?”

KK shrugged. “Y’all weren’t answering the group chat, so I figured you needed some excitement.”

I narrowed my eyes. “We were literally about to have a peaceful movie night.”

KK grinned. “Oh, bet! The whole squad’s coming.”

Paige and I froze.

“The what now?” Paige asked, eyes wide.

As if on cue, the door swung open again.

In stormed Caroline, Ice, Morgan, Sarah, Jana, Azzi, Ayanna, and Aubrey—each carrying snacks, drinks, and zero regard for the fact that we were NOT expecting them.

“Hope y’all weren’t planning on keeping this cozy night to yourselves,” Ice teased, plopping onto the floor.

“We brought popcorn,” Morgan added, holding up a bag.

Ayanna smirked. “And we came to see Paige in full simp mode live and in action.”

I groaned, hiding my face in Paige’s hoodie.

Paige, however, just sighed dramatically.

“You know what?” She pulled me closer, chin resting on my head. “Fine. But y’all are building your own Legos.”

Caroline gasped. “You think we came empty-handed?”

And just like that, the quiet night turned into a full-blown UConn team takeover.

9:15 PM – My Dorm (Now a Team Sleepover)

I should’ve known better.

I really should have.

A “quick movie night” with this team was never just a quick movie night. It was an event. A takeover. A full-blown production.

And now, my dorm—which was barely big enough for me and Paige—was packed with the entire squad, each making themselves comfortable like they owned the place.

KK had taken over my desk chair, spinning it in circles while still on TikTok Live, laughing as the chat roasted Paige’s “Full-Time Nurse, Part-Time Simp” status. Azzi and Ice were sprawled out on my floor, already battling in some intense Uno match, while Ayanna sat behind them, eating popcorn like she was watching a championship game.

Caroline, Sarah, and Aubrey had claimed my bed—because of course they did—leaving me exactly nowhere to sit.

And Paige?

Paige was sitting right in the middle of it all, legs stretched out, completely unbothered, holding onto me like I was some oversized teddy bear she had no intentions of letting go.

I sighed. This was my life now.

“So, what’s next?” KK grinned, finally putting her phone down. “I say we make this a game night.”

Paige perked up. “Ooh, Mario Kart?”

“I call Yoshi,” Ice said immediately.

“Bro, you always get Yoshi,” Ayanna groaned.

“Then be quicker next time.”

Azzi snorted. “It’s not even that serious.”

Ice gasped dramatically. “Oh, it is that serious, Fudd. Don’t let me catch you on Rainbow Road.”

Meanwhile, Sarah and Aubrey had started pulling out a deck of cards.

“Spades?” Aubrey suggested, smirking at me.

I raised a brow. “You sure you wanna go there, Griff?”

“Am I sure I wanna school you? Yeah.”

“Oh, bet.”

Caroline clapped her hands. “Alright, we got Mario Kart on one side, Spades on the other. What about Jenga?”

“Jenga?” Paige repeated, looking concerned.

Morgan nodded, already stacking the blocks. “Yeah, the giant kind.”

I groaned. “Oh no.”

I still had PTSD from the last time they played.

Because this wasn’t normal Jenga. No, UConn Jenga was a full-contact sport.

“House rules?” KK asked.

“House rules,” Sarah confirmed.

“Wait, what are house rules?” I asked, immediately regretting it.

Caroline grinned. “Oh, just a little added chaos.”

Aubrey smirked. “You have to remove the blocks with only one hand.”

Azzi added, “And if you make it fall, you have to do a dare.”

I turned to Paige, my last hope for sanity. “And you allow this?”

She shrugged. “I don’t make the rules. I just enjoy the show.”

I groaned again, but there was no stopping them now.

10:30 PM – The Games Begin

First up: Mario Kart.

And let me tell you—Ice did not play around.

By the time the first race ended, she had already hit KK with three shells and sent Ayanna flying off the track twice.

“HOW ARE YOU THIS GOOD?” KK yelled, staring at the screen in disbelief.

Ice grinned, completely smug. “Skill, baby. Try again next time.”

Meanwhile, Spades had gotten… heated.

“You reneged!” Aubrey accused, pointing at Azzi.

Azzi scoffed. “I did not!”

“You did!”

Sarah laughed, shaking her head. “Man, this is why I don’t play with y’all.”

Caroline leaned back, sipping her Gatorade like she was watching a courtroom drama.

And then came Jenga.

It started normal enough. Careful moves, steady hands.

And then Ashlynn decided to get bold.

She tried pulling from the bottom.

Everyone screamed.

The tower wobbled.

For a moment, it looked like she might save it.

And then—BOOM.

Jenga blocks went flying.

Ash sat there, stunned. “…Oops.”

The entire team erupted.

“Dare time!” KK announced.

She sighed. “Fine. Hit me with it.”

Sarah and Ayanna exchanged looks before smirking.

“You have to run down the hall, screaming ‘PAIGE BUECKERS IS MY MOM’ at the top of your lungs.”

The room exploded.

Paige choked on her water. “WHAT?”

Azzi wheezed. “Y’all are evil.”

But Ash? Ashlynn was fearless.

She stood up, cracked her knuckles, and sprinted out the door.

“PAIGE BUECKERS IS MY MOM! PAIGE BUECKERS IS MY MOM!”

We were crying.

Even Paige couldn’t stop laughing. “I hate you guys.”

Caroline wiped tears from her eyes. “Nah, that was legendary.”

1:00 AM – The Aftermath

Eventually, after multiple rematches, way too much yelling, and Ice still dominating in Mario Kart, the exhaustion hit.

One by one, people started crashing.

Azzi was knocked out on the floor, still holding a controller. Sarah and Morgan had taken over my bed, curled up like they owned the place.

KK was half-asleep in my desk chair, mumbling about getting revenge on Ice.

And Paige?

Paige was lying next to me, arms wrapped around my waist, fully content.

“See?” she murmured. “You’re feeling better, and we had fun.”

I sighed, sinking into her warmth. “Yeah, yeah. You win, Nurse Paige.”

She chuckled, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Always.”

And even though my dorm was a mess, even though my bed was stolen, even though KK was probably gonna snore all night…

I smiled. Resting against Paige’s chest and went to a peaceful sleep.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

       -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 , @0phantom0 , @yailtsv , @authentic-girl03 , @sevyscoven , @elalfywhore , @sitawita , @jadasogay , @vamptizm .... (more to be added) 

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter five:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ warnings: fighting, misunderstanding, mentions of cheating

➴ word count: 3.2k

➴ author’s note: shit hit the fan yall… who the hell is going to fix this mess..

YOU woke up at ten to two after sleeping for seven hours straight. One thing about stressed you, is that you'd sleep for twenty-four hours if given the opportunity.

But you were thirsty and you needed to get your hands on a glass of water before you died from dehydration.

So, you got up, and made your way to the kitchen, only stopping when you saw your phone blowing up on the counter.

Frowning, you picked it up, confused with the hundreds of notifications on your lock screen.

You completely forgot about your need for water. With your heart on your mouth, you sat on one of your stools, unlocking your phone and texting Grace.

Usually, you didn't care about gossip. You'd always just joke about it on Twitter with your fans and move on.

People liked to invent things and you couldn't exactly stop them. So you just let it happen.

But apparently, Jack was involved in this too. Which left you confused because people didn't know about you two. Or at least, that's what your media team would say, whenever you had a meeting with them— a weekly occurrence, ever since the album was announced.

Typing your name on Google, you didn't have to dig too deep: an article published five hours ago was the first to show up. "Former Flames: NHL Star Jack Hughes Moves On with New Flame After Breakup with Pop Singer, Sophia Montenegro".

What the fuck?

Opening it, you could swear your heart would stop any moment. Hands shaking, you read every line, thinking of everything and nothing at the same time.

It seems love off the ice is just as fast-paced as the action on it for NHL star Jack Hughes. The hockey player, known for his fierce plays and competitive edge, is making headlines for his personal life as well. After a low-profile breakup with pop sensation Sophia Montenegro, Jack Hughes has already moved on-and he's not keeping it a secret.

According to our anonymous sources, the athlete and singer had started dating back in April, after they met at the New Jersey Devils [Jack Hughes' team] charity gala, and kept everything in the dark for six months straight: nothing more than a few Instagram comments and likes to prove anything.

However, despite the chemistry, the relationship ended after Jack was seen with one of his exes last night, Ava Mitchell. Jack Hughes is known for his short-term relationships so it wouldn't be anything new.

We hope Mrs. Montenegro is okay, after her second break-up in less than two years. Maybe our sweet girl, Sophia, has bad luck with relationships.

You didn't bother reading the rest, locking your phone and gently placing it on the counter again.

The rational part of your brain was telling you that none of that was true, and that this was just a gossip magazine doing what’s supposed to be doing, but you recognised the girl in the photo, it was the same girl on Jack’s lap yesterday. And that was obviously Jack, holding her hand like some kind of loving boyfriend.

You sighed, running your hands through your hair. You knew that something like this would happen. All of the good moments you had with Jack apparently were just that: good moments. And now, bad memories.

You knew what you had to do. Keep going, just like you did when Harris broke up with you over text after cheating on you the night before. Keep going, just like you did when your name got dragged into the mud because of that.

But doing that with Jack, for some crazy reason, was harder than you thought it’d be. Maybe because you had a lot of expectations and watching them getting crushed right in front of you sucked.

Your phone buzzed in front of you, Grace’s picture shining. You sighed, before picking it up. “Hi,” you whispered, remembering that you were still thirsty and this was the first word you said in seven hours.

“Hey, baby, how are you?” She sounded worried, and you understood her. This was the first somewhat scandal you’ve had in months. So yeah.

“I just read it…” you took a deep breath. “Gosh, what the hell. What happened after I left?”

You heard Grace move something around before she started speaking again. “Honey, I wish I could tell you something entirely different but… I did see Jack leaving with that girl. I am so sorry. Like, genuinely.”

Your entire body felt like it weighed three times more. Your heart shrank to the size of a pea and you could feel your hand tremble a little bit.

You had seen the picture, you knew that Jack had left the party with the girl but still. It hurt.

“Did you talk to him?” Grace asked, voice worried.

“No, I— Grace, I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, feeling something tickle your cheek. You wiped it with your hands, just to realize that it was tears. You were crying. “I like him so much. I had finally accepted it, I told you— I thought he felt the same.”

“I did too. I don’t know what happened. Maybe… God I hate to say this but maybe you should talk to him?”

You let out a wet laugh. “No way in hell I’m talking to him. I made that mistake with Harris. Every time he’d do something shitty, I’d go after him and talk to him, accept his excuses, his behavior. I’m not that Sophia anymore.”

“I know, I know… I just…” she sounded uncertain. “God. Why are men like this?”

You wiped your tears, smiling for the first time in hours.

“I don’t know.”

“Also, that song you sent me… is it about him?”

You were confused just for a second, before remembering the song you wrote last night— morning?

“Yeah,” you mumbled, feeling just the tiniest bit of embarrassment. “Couldn’t get it out of my head. What’d you think?”

“It’s perfect. Just like everything you write,” you could hear her smiling. You smiled too. “I love you so much, Soph.”

“I love you too, Grace. Don’t worry, I'll be fine,” you sounded like you were trying to convince yourself, and not her. “Let’s just focus on the album and the launching party, right? Fuck Jack Hughes.”

“Yes, you’re right. Fuck him and not in a good way!”

You laughed, feeling the pain inside your chest ease up a little bit.

It was going to be fine.

— ♡

JACK called you three times in the past three days.

You felt shitty not picking up any of his calls because you knew he was away for the entire week, but honestly, you weren’t ready to hear any of his excuses.

So drowning yourself in work was the answer for all of your problems. Day and night, you went to photoshoots and interviews, none of the questions being about you and Jack, thankfully. You knew it was all your team’s doing but still, it felt nice to talk about yourself and your work, and not about men who did nothing but make you hate yourself.

Grace thought you had to at least hear Jack out. But you knew that if you did that, the chances of you forgiving him were high. Higher than they should be. Because you’re still very much in love with him and want to be with him at all times.

“Good work today, guys,” Russel, your choreographer, shouted, everyone clapping together. You were all rehearsing for your launching party, a mini-concert with only a couple hundred people, something to introduce your album.

“Thank you, guys, love you.” You breathed, remembering how you should go back to the gym because singing and dancing at the same time required a lot of effort.

You headed back to your house, staring at the sunset through your car’s window, sighing loudly at the traffic in front of you. It was seven p.m. and you were tired and famished, thinking about all of the take-out options you could order when you got home.

“What the…” you muttered, when you tried entering your garage, but was unable to since there was a car there already. A car that you unfortunately knew very well. “The hell is he doing here?”

Jack was leaning against his car, a crazy thing to do during winter but whatever, wearing a beanie and a Devils hoodie, while looking at something in his phone.

He was supposed to be away. For a week.

Opening your door, you welcomed the cool breeze on your skin. The workout clothes felt too tight on your body and the bag on your hand felt too heavy but you held it tight. He still hadn’t noticed you so maybe you could walk past him without him noticing you?

“Hey, baby,” and yes, of course that didn’t work. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

You looked at him like he was out of his mind, but he just kissed your forehead and grabbed something from inside the car. A Five Guys takeout bag. Fuck him for knowing your favorite burger place.

“I got us food but I think the guy there messed with my order on purpose because he recognised me and he was wearing a Rangers pin which I thought was forbidden during work hours? But I never had a nine to five job so I can’t really tell.”

You continued to move, asking yourself why the hell Jack was so talkative today. Usually, he’d just answer your questions and leave it at that. But he must’ve spent too much time with Luke because damn, this man was a yapper now.

Opening the door, you let him in, not really sure why. Maybe Grace was right and you did need closure, but you expected to have this conversation with him through texts, and not face to face like right now.

He looked so dreamy. He’d shaved, so he looked eighteen years old all over again. His hair, hidden by the beanie, looked longer now and you desperately wanted to run your hands through it. He was standing there, cheeks and lips red, blue eyes looking directly at yours.

Why did he have to be so handsome? It’d all be much easier if he was ugly.

“You’re so quiet today, did something happen?” He asked, yanking you out of the train of thoughts about how handsome he was.

And suddenly, you were back in Harris’ living room, one year ago, watching as the man cried on your lap, apologizing over and over again, saying that he’d never lie to you and that he’d never let you down.

Your stomach was starting to hurt and you felt yourself breathing faster.

“I ran this conversation in my head a thousand times, but I never once imagined you’d just not talk about it and move on, y’know?” You mumbled, heart racing in your chest. “Was it worth it, Jack?”

His confused face made you hurt even more because, somehow, it looked genuine. “What are you talking about? Was what worth it?”

“So you’ll keep denying it?” You raise one eyebrow, feeling the sorrow being replaced by something uglier, something heavier. Something like anger.

“Denying what, Sophia?” He stepped closer, hands reaching to your body, which you dodged. If you’re going to do this, you’ll need every ounce of space in your house. “Sophia, what—”

“I know I have no right to be mad at you for this, because I know we were just fucking,” you smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Hell, I was the one who said I didn’t want a relationship first. So I understand why you didn’t reach out to me, why you’re not apologizing, why you’re playing dumb, but—”

“Sophia,” he cut you off, his voice one octave deeper. You shivered, watching as he frowned at you. “I don’t know why you’re saying all of this shit. What the hell happened?”

You looked at him, analyzing his face and, once again, seeing nothing but pure confusion in his expression. You found it hard to believe that he didn’t know about the article, didn’t know about how people were saying that no one stayed with you for a long time, didn’t know about his ex announcing to everyone on her Instagram page that they were together again.

But unfortunately, you also knew that Jack wasn’t a liar. He’d never been, and probably would never be.

“So you don’t know about the article?”

“Article?” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you talking about gossip pages on Instagram? Soph, you know the only thing I do in that fucking app is like your photos, watch the weird ass reels you send me, and send pictures of ugly animals to my brothers and say it looks like them,”

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you google the article that you had every word memorized by now with how much you’ve read it. Showing it to him, you saw his face go through all stages of emotions: confusion, anger and understanding.

“You didn’t know about this?”

“I don’t read the articles people write about me. I don’t give a fuck about people’s opinions,” he growled, handing your phone back to you and taking his beanie off so he could run his hands through his hair. “I don’t know who the hell sent that information about us.”

“Can’t you see that the problem here isn’t people knowing that we were fucking?” You snapped, almost crushing your phone with how hard you were gripping it. “The problem here, Jack, is you leaving that fucking party with your fucking ex, after she spent half of her night on your lap.”

“The hell is wrong with that, Sophia?” He snapped too, looking angry and annoyed at the same time. “You left with fucking Quinn and didn’t even say goodbye to me. Me leaving with Ava isn’t any fucking different.”

“‘Isn’t any fucking different?’ Fuck you, Jack. Fuck,” you touched his chest with your index finger. “You.”

“Sophia, what is going on? You’re mad at me because I left with Ava? She was fucking out of her mind, drunk as hell, and I just took her home!” He raised his arms, like that was enough of an explanation. “It’s not my fault someone took a picture of us leaving and wrote a fucking article about that.”

“I’m not mad at you, Jack,” you whispered, staring into his eyes, losing yourself all over again, just like you did six months ago. “I’m mad at myself for falling in love with you.”

You were both taken aback by your statement. You had zero intentions of telling Jack how you felt about him because that would just be too much humiliation to handle but now the shit hit the fan and he knew.

“It’s…” he stared, biting his lips and averting your gaze. “It’s not like I cheated on you, Sophia. We aren’t dating.”

Oh.

Right.

You knew something like this would happen and still. Your heart hurts all the same. It isn’t that serious, your brain was yelling at you, get a fucking grip.

“I know,” you whispered, trying to count your breathings. “I know that, Jack. You don’t need to tell me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He stepped closer. “About how you feel?”

“Was it going to change anything?” Your voice quivered with sadness and you hated yourself for it. The plan was to tell him to fuck off and leave him but now you were almost crying and losing your shit in front of him.

“Yes, Sophia, fuck,” he put his hands on your arms, squeezing you slightly. “Of course it was!”

“Jack, no,” you freed yourself from his touch, walking around your living room, with your hands on your head. “I didn’t tell you that just to watch you pity me, I was trying to make a point. Don’t start lying now just for the sake of it.”

“Lying? I’m not fucking lying, Sophia,” he sounded angry now. “If you had told me this before, I would’ve—”

“‘Would’ve’ what?” You raised your voice too, tears now streaming down your face freely. “Would’ve said you’re in love with me too? Would’ve abandoned your whore days just to be with me? Fuck off, Hughes, we both know that isn’t true.”

“Just because you like to paint me as the man whore of the Devils it doesn’t mean that that is true,” he snapped, again. “I’ve been with you for six months now, and I never, not even once, touched another woman, or even thought about doing it. Because I just wanted you, Sophia, can’t you fucking see it?”

You sat on the couch, covering your face with your hands, trying to hide the fact that those words affected you more than you would ever admit.

“I get it that your fuckhead ex-boyfriend fucked you up and I am sorry for it, baby, I really am, but I’m not like him—”

“Jack, no,” you stopped him and removed your hands from your face, not caring if you looked ugly or destroyed. “Just leave. It’s better this way.”

“Leave? Are you insane?” He raised his voice. “No, I’m not leaving. I’m telling you that I am in lo—”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Hughes,” you got up, walking until you were toe to toe with him, looking up until your eyes met his. “I don’t want to hear it. Leave, please.”

“What the hell, man, you’re— you’re not even hearing me out!” He sounded desperate.

“I don’t want— I don’t need any more of your lies or pity. Sorry if you lost a good fuck, but I’m sure you’ll find someone else to get your dick wet.” It hurt you saying this but you needed to hurt him in order to make him leave, even if only God knew how much you wanted him to stay.

But the people you loved, the men you loved, never stayed.

Eventually, if you both started dating, he’d get tired of the routine and he’d find someone else. He’d start lying and cheating and apologizing just to do it all again, stepping on your heart like he did to the ice.

So you needed him to leave.

“So you think that you were just that to me?” He scoffed. “A good fuck? I took you to my parents’ house. I introduced you to them. I talked to my friends about you and I made time for something else besides Hockey. I wanted you in my life and now you’re telling me that it was all just sex to me?”

His eyes have never looked bluer. Your entire body felt cold, and you knew it wasn’t because of the weather. It was because you could feel Jack distancing himself from you, and it hurt.

“Leave, Hughes.”

He stared at you for a full minute, the room quiet. Then, he nodded once and twice, before stepping back and making his way to your door.

Opening it, he turned back and looked at you again. “I hope you know that you can’t keep your heart locked away forever, Soph.”

Wanting nothing but to be in his arms, you stared at him until he softly closed the door. You don’t know how much time you spent looking at the wooden entrance, feeling like you just watched your forever walk away.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 23: Extreme Makeover Backyard Edition

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty three of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 9.1K

Warnings: I'm going to label this one 18+ because it handles some heavy subjects!  Angst, Cursing, Nudity, Mentions of Abuse (sort of- it's more the reader being used without knowledge of it and I'm not sure what to call that), Numbness, Depression, Mental Health, Brief mentions of graphic death, Brief mentions of graphic torture, Mention of gore, Mention of death, Mentions of character going through some HEAVY EMOTIONS and INTERNAL TRAUMA, Fluff, Sexual References, Family Problems. Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Reader POV

You fall on your hands and knees in the soft grass of Legend's front yard, falling from the sky like a comet as it's glow fades and burns for the last time before striking the earth. You don't remember how you left Stan's apartment, don't remember flying here, don't feel anything, not the humidity that comes with the rising sun, not the cold kiss of dew against your skin, all you feel is the cold creeping numbness that trickles through your veins.

The memories of what you did come in flashes, but they do nothing. They do not evoke remorse nor pain, they haunt you, but do not bring tears to your eyes.

You open and close your hands, letting the blades of grass crush beneath your fingertips, but you don’t completely comprehend where you are, or how the hell you got here. All you feel is weakness tugging at your every muscle, threatening to drag you under the rising tide. You felt electrified, but so tied at the same time, everything and nothing. What happened seemed centuries ago and also seconds ago.

There was no anger, no remorse, no pain, no horror, no shock, there was nothing, only the chill that clung to your skin on the warm summer morning. You could see Stan’s death in your mind, watch his body collapse in on itself under your power and yet it did nothing to you.

You're not sure of anything anymore. Who you are, who Rosemary is- everything you knew is gone and you're not sure what's left behind, not sure what will come crawling out of the shell you were now. You knew you should be afraid, but another voice in your ear whispered so should they.

Someone grabs you by the shoulders, hauls you up off the ground, raising your gaze from the wet grass.

Ben looks furious, mind you, he always seemed to be angry when it came to you. You wondered if that was because he loved you or if it was because the two of you were fated to kill each other one day.

Or maybe it's a healthy combination of both.

He's wearing his jeans again, his dark hair falling forward into his eyes that burn with the force of his rage, but as soon as he sees the dried blood coating your cheeks, hair, and body, you watch worry begin to spark behind his glowing green eyes.

You register that deep down his anger and worry comes from a place that he'd hidden from you for eighty years, his love for you, the love that he was no longer hiding. But the chill still rose in your chest like the first frost of winter.

"Fuck." Ben mutters, moving his hands along your body, boldly looking for injuries, but he doesn't find any. "What the fuck happened? Why did you leave?"

You don't answer him, instead you take in a shallow breath, filled with the smell of fresh cut grass and Ben's musk. You're trying to find your voice, but it's difficult for you.

"Y/n are you alright?" He asks it, firmly gripping you by the shoulders, trying to shake you back into reality. You can hear the way the anger in his voice has shifted to something else.

"It's not mine Ben." Your voice is no more than a whisper as you stare blankly at him.

"Whose is it?"

You can't answer him, the only thing in your mind is Stan's words to you, the secrets he kept for forty years coming to light, the terrible things that he and Vogelbaum did. You want to tell him, tell him about what you know, but you can't find the words, can't find the thoughts to follow them.

"Sweetheart?" Ben furrows his eyebrows together, tilting your face to look at him. His hand softly strokes against your cheeks not understanding why you’re acting like this. “Are you alright?” 

His voices sound like you’re underwater, a murmur, a buzz, just a shadow of the deep rumble you love so much, the voice you thought you'd never hear every again.

Ben says your name again, with such urgency that it snaps you out of it for only a moment. The smoke clears, but what’s left barely has the strength to cling to him as you collapse into his chest. Your body shakes uncontrollably, tears soaking through his thin t-shirt, unable to do anything else, but clutch him tighter against you.

"He's our son Ben. They stole my-" You can't find the words, can't find your voice, it sounds hollow. "Stan he and Vogel-." But your voice breaks again and you shudder against Ben's chest, the numbness coming back to drag you under.

Ben doesn't hesitate, he picks you up as if you weigh nothing, tucking your head under his chin as he goes and turns back towards the house. You barely register his picking you up, can’t seem to focus on anything, breath coming in shallow gasps, body still shaking. Ben tightens his arms around you as if trying to comfort you as he walks through the front doors.

“Is she alright?” Rosemary’s voice is close, but you don't raise your head from Ben's body.

“Fuck, there’s so much blood.“ Hughie adds and you can imagine him standing beside her, his eyes wide.

Guess that means he survived Mindstorm.

Your only hope was that Lou was already in bed, that she wasn't watching Ben carry you soaked in blood through Legend's house.

“It’s not hers.” Ben replies gruffly, still moving towards the staircase. He wasn't stopping and you were thankful for that, you didn’t want to talk to anyone and didn’t want to have it out with Rosemary. You were so tired, tired of fighting and of trying. You didn’t want to yell at her, didn’t want her to yell at you, all you wanted was to slip deeper into the darkness.

"Shit, she's just as fucking unhinged as Soldier Boy is." Butcher mutters under his breath wherever it is he's standing.

“Wait mom talk to me-“ Rosemary tries again.

“No.” You murmur into Ben’s neck. Stan’s revelation rings in your ears once more, betrayal momentarily clawing its way from the pit before the cold feeling comes back to drag you under.

Because it felt like she had betrayed you. All these years you thought that Vought left the two of you alone, but no, it was a lie. And if she'd done that, what else had she done to ensure your freedom?

“Please-“ She sounds broken, and it strikes something inside, because she's never sounded like that before. Rosemary was strong, stronger than you ever were.

But then the word makes the memory of Stan’s body snapping and twisting beneath your control come roaring back, his pleas for the mercy he didn’t deserve exhaled on his dying breath, as you turned him into nothing more than a lump of flesh.

You gasp, another shudder shaking through your body and you don’t answer and don't raise your head.

"Wait Ben-" She says his name, but Ben doesn't stop.

"She doesn't want to talk right now." Ben's tone is controlled, but you can hear the trickle of his rage just on the edge of his inflection. "And I'm not going to make her." He continues walking down the stairs and Rosemary does not follow.

Ben doesn’t put you down on the bed, instead he takes you to the adjoining bathroom. It’s bigger than your bedroom back at your apartment with a walk in shower big enough for five people to stand in, a giant vanity with two sinks, a jacuzzi, and a bathtub big enough for three. Legend never spared any expense when it came to that sort of thing.

Ben slowly places you on the vanity but when he pulls back you grab the front of his shirt. “No.” You breathe suddenly terrified. The terror of Ben leaving cuts through it all, followed by a wave of horror and fear.

If he leaves they’ll come for me again. They’ll come take me or Lou.

You were afraid to be alone, didn’t want him to go, not after everything that happened.

“Shhh.” Ben soothes you, brushing your hair back, “It’s alright sweetheart I’m just getting a washcloth.”

You relent, hand unfurling from his shirt, and he comes back with it, wetting it with warm water before he begins to drag it over your face as gently as possible. His eyebrows are furrowed with concentration, but you don’t move, you only stare at a point over his left shoulder not really comprehending what’s happening.

What happened to Stan comes back in flashes, black and white photographs followed by the bits of conversation that unmade you, the revelations that would haunt you for the rest of your life.

Ben sighs. “Well. I don’t think this is helping at all.” He throws the washcloth into the sink and gently cups your chin, turning your gaze on him.

You blink a few times to focus your eyes.

“Look sweetheart I know you don’t want me to leave, but you gotta get in the shower. I can’t get it all with this washcloth and the last thing I want is to put you in bed covered in blood.” He searches your gaze trying to make you understand what he was asking but you don’t respond.

He leans his forehead against yours. “Honey please you gotta say something. You’re scaring me.” Ben’s eyes meet yours, wide and for the first time in years you see genuine fear.

You let out a shallow breath, but don’t say anything. You can’t find your voice. Instead you gently touch his chest just over his heart. It’s a small gesture, but it’s enough for Ben.

Ben closes his eyes for a minute as if trying to make sense of it all. “Okay.” He breathes, opening his eyes again to look at you, care and concern charging the air between the two of you. “Can I take off your clothes?”

You nod once, eyes still focused on the white tiled wall behind him.

“Okay.” Ben gently pushes the leather jacket back from your body. It falls back on the counter in a bloody heap, staining the white countertops with flecks of dried reddish-black blood. “I need you to stand up for me sweetheart.” Ben says, holding you firmly by the waist and pulling you off the counter.

You stand there for a moment, unsteady on your feet, staring blankly ahead of you.

“Arms up.” Ben whispers.

You raise them above you head and Ben removes your shirt and bra before moving to your pants. “Hold on to me.” He places your arms around his shoulders as you step out of your shoes, pants, and panties.

If you’d been in your right mind maybe you would have worried about this moment, worried about Ben seeing you naked again after all these years. He’d only ever seen you the one time, but somewhere deep down registered that this was different. It wasn’t sexual. There weren't any expectations and there was nothing to be embarrassed about. This was Ben keeping his promise and taking care of you the way that he always had.

He steps over to the bathtub, running his hand under the stream of water to check the temperature.

"Come on.” Ben gently leads you over, your small hand in his and helps you step over the side of the tub and into the warm water.

Steam rises around your body, but the water feels lukewarm. Your gaze levels at the water that streams from the spout on the edge of the tub, not looking up at Ben as he switches the water to the handheld shower head.

"Tilt your head back for me honey." Ben murmurs, touching your chin with your free hand to tilt it back. "Eyes closed."

You do as he says and feel the water trickle through your hair and down your back, followed by the gentle scrub of Ben beginning to work shampoo through the strands. He works quietly, catching the suds that threaten to fall into your eyes. Your hands are folded in your lap, eyes still closed, feeling the steady way he cleans your hair and then your face.

As you sit there the memory of everything that happened with Stan begins to trickle in, causing an uncontrollable shudder to shake through your body. Ben's ministrations were doing little to make the cold feeling dissipate, if anything you could feel it sinking into your bones.

"It's alright sweetheart, I'm almost done." Ben says, and you feel his thumb stroke against your cheek for a moment before he continues to wash your hair.

"Sit here for a second. I'm going to go get you some clean clothes."

You open your eyes and watch him go. The water in the tub is red now, the last remnants of Stan's blood scrubbed clean from your body.

The fire would destroy any evidence that you'd been there and washing the clothes that you killed him in should take care of any other problems.

When you're dried off and in your own clothes, you stand in the bathroom and catch a glance of yourself in the mirror. You look hollow, broken, eyes miles away, skin a little paler than normal. You don't look like yourself, but you also don't feel like yourself.

"Come on, let's get you to bed." Ben says and you feel him pick you up again, carrying you to the bed as if you weigh nothing.

You mechanically go through the motions of getting under the covers, pulling them up almost over your head as you curl in on yourself, making yourself as small as possible. You shut your eyes to try and make the images of what happened go away, but you can't fight the ebbing darkness that comes to welcome you home. It's familiar. The same one that you fell into when Ben broke your heart and you thought he died. The pit was opening beneath your feet once again, and you wondered if you'd be able to pull yourself out this time.

Ben changes into a pair of faded sweatpants, before he crawls into the bed behind you under the covers, putting his arm up over your waist to pull you into him. You turn in his arms so that you're chest to chest and can bury your face into his shirt, inhaling the familiar scent, trying to rid yourself of the images and of the things you learned a few hours ago.

"It's alright Sweetheart, I'm right here." You can feel the rumble of Ben's voice in the palms of your hands where they curl against his soft shirt. The weight of his arm over your waist is familiar as is the heat of his body, the warmth you expected to wipe away the cold feeling that crept along your spine drowning everything else out of your head.

It's quiet for a few moments. Ben's hand is gently trailing up and down your spine, but sleep is miles away for you.

"I'm trying real hard not to be mad at you Sweetheart, especially when you're like this but-" Ben sighs, rubbing his hand up and down your back. "You lied to me. What were you thinking going off alone and-" His tone has shifted into more of a growl, the one he gets when he's about to yell at you.

If he had yelled at you, you wouldn't have reacted, you were just so tired of everything, couldn't focus on anything.

Ben's body tenses. It was as If he was physically trying to hold himself back from being upset, but you couldn't answer him. It had seemed like a good idea when you went, seemed right, but now you weren't sure.

What you had learned changed you, and you weren't sure if you'd ever be able to go back to the way you were.

He's quiet for a minute, before finally he presses a kiss to your forehead, and you bury yourself further into his chest. "I love you." He murmurs. "I promise I'm not going to go anywhere."

But you barely hear him, the only thing you hear is the low buzz of fluorescent lights and Vogelbaum's voice telling his staff to keep you quiet.

Soldier Boy POV

He didn’t know what to do. In all the years he’d known you, Ben had never seen you like this. He’d seen you upset, angry, sad, but never this.

It had been three days since you came back covered in blood, three days of you laying in bed refusing to speak, curled up into his chest.

Ben had tried to get you to eat something, but when you wouldn’t do it by yourself he had to spoon feed it to you, as if you couldn’t remember how to eat.

It scared him.

Ben hadn’t ever felt fear like this before in his entire life, but now, seeing you so distant and cold, he was terrified. He worried that you’d never come back.

Mindstorm had told him the truth about Homelander and as angry as Ben was about that, he couldn’t understand how Homelander was also your son. He’d never heard you say anything about them taking something from you for genetic testing, never spoken about willingly giving up your genetic material.

So then how the fuck did they get it?

There was something sinister that danced on the edge of his mind, something that seemed too horrible to consider, something that meant that Ben had failed to protect you, had failed to keep the promise he made eighty years ago.

But deep down Ben wondered if it was true, because as much as he knew you hated killing people, this seemed different than you usual reaction.

He held you closer to him, curving his body around your back as you slept soundlessly. You were holding on to his hand while you did, fingers entwined with his, holding it against your chest while you found some peace.

Ben was honestly waiting for another nightmare. Each time you’d fallen asleep over the past three days you’d woken up gasping for air, shaking uncontrollably, with tears rolling down your cheeks. Ben did what he could, brought you into his lap and held you tight, reassuring you that it was okay, that it was only a dream.

He was trying not to be angry, but he was. He was furious when he got back to Legend’s two days ago and discovered that you were gone, that you’d left to go off and do God knows what with Homelander flying around. Rosemary refused to tell him where you were only told him that you left but that you’d be back. Ben hated that you made him wait around like a fucking woman waiting for her husband to come home.

He had intended on yelling at you, at making sure you knew how pissed off he was that you did the one thing he told you not to do, but then he saw you land in Legend’s front yard looking like you had taken a shower in someone’s blood and he couldn’t. Not when he feared that the blood was yours and not when he saw how broken you were.

Ben had loved you for a long time, understood you, saw how strong you were, saw that you always spoke your mind no matter what, and to see you like this was… petrifying. He didn’t know what had happened, didn’t understand how something you learned could effect you this much.

He too was still reeling from the revelation that Homelander was his son, felt an even greater sense of betrayal because Vought should have let him give the team to his son, pass it off like a king giving up his throne. And after the night that he had spent with you all those years ago, Ben was ready to give it up, to walk away and give you the life that you always wanted away from the spotlight.

Ben figured that Stan had told you Homelander was your son, and maybe that’s what this was. Ben had been dreading the conversation with you when he got back to Legends, the conversation in which he was going to have to tell you that Homelander was your son too. He didn’t want to hurt you all over again with news like that.

I guess I don’t have to.

Ben thinks to himself listening to the soft beat of your heart, pushing his face further into your hair where it hangs over your shoulders. But he's not sure that this is better.

When he wakes the bed is empty.

“Sweetheart?” Ben says looking around the bedroom. He strains his hearing to see if you’re in the bathroom or upstairs but he doesn’t hear you. Fear grips his heart.

Fuck. Where did she go?

Thunder shakes the house, rattling the windows as Ben looks around the room, brief flashes of lightning illuminates the vintage furniture, but you aren't sitting on anything. The sliding glass doors on the back wall of the bedroom are open, allowing rain to sweep through onto the carpets, water flooding towards your now cold side of the bed.

Shit.

Ben all but jumps out of the bed and rushes to the sliding glass doors, looking beyond into the darkness of Legend’s backyard. Lightning skates across the night flashing bright white, and catching where you stand in the grass. You’re looking up at the sky, soaked to the bone, but seemingly unnerved by the weather.

“Sweetheart?” Ben shouts over the sound of the thunder, but you don’t move. “Are you okay? Did you have another nightmare?”

“It’s not a nightmare.” You murmur into the storm, your eyes still focused on the sky, looking up at something that he can't see.

“What do you mean?” Ben gets closer to you, his feet sinking into the wet grass, rain saturating his clothes every second he stands out there with you. Ben was trying to understand, was trying his best to do what you needed, but he was worried that he was failing, that maybe he needed to take you to a hospital. He wasn't sure how to explain that to anyone if he did take you to one.

If anything he thought that you'd want to talk things out with Rosemary, but you hadn't wanted anything to do with her at all. That was the most surprising, that you didn't want to speak to her, didn't want her around. She had tried to come down to the bedroom, but you hadn't looked at her, you'd only clung tighter to Ben and said no. He wanted to know why, what Stan had told you to make you not want anything to do with her.

He was happy that Lou hadn't come down with her, he didn't want Lou to see you like this, didn't want it to haunt her the same way it was haunting him. He had heard Lou ask about you when he was laying in the basement beside you, and she had found him in the kitchen getting you something to eat and had hugged him tight and asked where you were. There were tears in her eyes when she did so and Ben told her that you weren't feeling well, but that he was taking care of you. There was a hand-drawn card on your bedside table from her filled with a picture of Lou holding out a bouquet of lavender to you that she asked him to give you.

“It really happened.” You close your eyes, head tilted up at the sky.

Lightning crackles across it, striking close to where you're standing, but you don't move an inch.

Ben stops mid-step. Your words sink into his soul, burn against his ribcage, anger surging up to replace the chill of the rain that clings to his skin. Because it meant he failed. It meant that the promise Ben made to you all those years ago was worthless, that he'd failed to protect you.

He thinks about all the time he wasted with other women, chasing after them, ignoring you. He thinks about all the moments he should have spent with you instead.

Maybe I would have figured it out if I wasn't so damn selfish. If I hadn't fucking cared about those stupid movies, or commercials, or the shitty interviews. I failed because I didn't put her first and I allowed this to happen.

“Stan told me.” You continue. "I wasn’t supposed to remember, but my mind knew. It was trying to tell me all these years but I just ignored it. Fucking pushed it away because I thought my mind was messed up from living this long. But it really happened."

“When?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that he said they did it when you were on location shooting a film. That they were too afraid to take me when you were still there.”  You're still not quite looking at him.

Ben felt the words like a punch to the gut. Why did I ever shoot any of those stupid films? Why didn't I take her with me? Why didn't I make up some stupid reason why I needed her there with me? Why didn't I tell her sooner how much she meant to me?

Ben remembered the first time you had the nightmare in front of him, he had just gotten back from shooting a film overseas, one that he could barely remember only that he literally had sand in every crevice of his body after each day of shooting. He remembered how happy he was to see you when you answered the door of your small apartment, how you smiled at him, but you seemed more tired than usual. Ben had missed you more than he knew, he had tried to call while he was away, but you hadn't picked up. He remember thinking that was odd. You always picked up the phone or at least always called him back, but you hadn't.

“They knew I’d say no. Knew that I wouldn’t want to raise a child under Vought’s watchful eye and instead of respecting that, they-" You stop mid sentence, your body has begun to glow bright purple, not just your eyes, there's a thin film of purple radiating out from your body, tracing your outline with a heavy hand, glowing brighter than the lightning that flashes across the sky. "Stan wasn't even ashamed. He was proud of what they made. Proud of what they did to our son."

As soon as you utter the word 'son', the ground begins to shake under Ben's feet, grass shreds in the air all around him, and the storm grows worse by the second. There's a terrible cracking sound and the trees on the edge of Legend's property snap, loosing their limbs to flashes of purple energy that wash away into the darkness with the force of your power.

Ben could feel the same power trying to push him back from you, push him inside the house, but he fought it, continuing to take more steps towards you.

“After all these years he wasn’t afraid of me. He was afraid that you would show up and make him pay.” Ben can see your body shake. “Everyone was always just afraid of you. All those years I worked so hard to make sure you didn’t kill anyone and for what? So they could take advantage of me?”

Your body begins to rise off the ground, glowing brighter and brighter. Until Ben almost has to look away, his body still being forced backwards. In all his years of watching you use your powers, he's never seen you do anything remotely like this. This didn't seem like just telekinesis and Ben wondered who else had killed you over the years, if it had happened before and you just hadn't cared to tell him, or if it had happened in the years he'd been away.

"Sweetheart please." Ben tries to say again, but it's swallowed up in the howling of the wind.

"All those years I gave Vought everything. I let them dress me, tell me what to say, inject me with that shit. I was everything they wanted me to be, and they used me just like I was a fucking doll for them to play with!" Ben can hear your teeth clenching together in rage, your powers spiking again so that now there is shredded earth, grass, and trees, whirling around the two of you swirling together in a vortex that flashes with purple energy. "But no more. They're all going to pay."

"Y/n-"

You were still rising off the ground getting further and further from Ben's reach and he was scared. He'd never seen you like this before, never seen you lose control or seen you this angry. Sure he pissed you off and you'd occasionally throw a couch around the room, but this was almost insane.

Fuck I should stop pissing her off.

Ben could feel his own rage surging in his chest when he understood exactly what Vought took away from you, when he understood exactly what Vogelbaum had done. But at the same time he was ashamed that he hadn't been there for you, that he hadn't been able to protect you from them, and that he hadn't known the first time you had that fucking nightmare and woke up screaming when he was in bed beside you.

"Sweetheart!" Ben finally shouts, grabbing your hand. As soon as his skin touches yours he feels like he's stuck his finger in an electrical socket,  as if the energy from your body jumping into his is almost painful, but he doesn't let go. He couldn't lose you to this, whatever the hell this was, wouldn't allow himself to lose you again.

Your glowing purple eyes flick to his. "Are you going to tell me that I shouldn't do that?" Your voice is cold. "That my revenge isn't as important as yours?"

"No." Ben shakes his head. "It's important. It's justified. I hate that they did that to you, that I wasn't there to stop them. That I didn't understand until now."

"It's not your fault what happened to me." You shout back, eyes flashing bright purple. "This isn't about you. This isn't your fight!" The vortex swirls faster around the two of you now, blurring everything beyond. "This is about what I need to do!"

"Yes it is!" His hand tightens in yours. "It is my fight if it involves you. I love you and that's what it means. It means us working together-"

"I don't need you to protect me! I am strong enough to do this on my own. I am so sick of people underestimating me and what I can do."

"Y/n please, listen to me!" Ben pleads. He could feel you slipping away and it scared him more than anything he'd been through in his entire life. He wasn't afraid to admit that. The look on your face and the display of power was so different than the person he knew.

You watch him silently, body glowing brightly in the night, floating off the ground as you stare down at him.

"I don't want you to do this alone." Ben says. The storm was still raging, thunder shaking the ground, lightning surging all around him. "I'm asking you to let me help you. Please."

"What?"

"You say that I hide what I'm really feeling, but you do too. You still hide things away from me. You think that you have to be perfect, controlled, some version of yourself that has everything together all the time, but you don't." Ben gently tries to pull you down an inch from the sky. "You've done that since we were kids, always done what you think is expected of you. That's why you almost married that asshole, because you were afraid to just let it go. So I'm asking you to do that now, to let go of all of it, because I promise that I will be right here for through every step of it."

"But-"

"I know I made promises when you chose me, and I'm sorry I let you down, I'm sorry that I let this happen, that I wasn't able to protect you from them." Ben's voice breaks and for a moment he sees a flash of the two of you in your bedroom the night that he asked you to come with him, how young and innocent you were, how much you cared for him reflected in your eyes. "So I'm promising you this now. That I will protect you, that I won't let anything happen to you and that you never have to be alone ever again. Because I love you. So please, just let go and let me in.

The whirlwind slows around the two of you, still ripping up the ground and the grass in the backyard.

"I have to be in control." You say in almost whisper.

"Why?" Ben asks.

"Because if I'm not I don't know what will happen!" You snap. "Someone dies, or you leave again, or they come to take Rosie or Lou away and I can't-" You shake your head, the glow on your body fading for a moment. "I'm not strong enough-"

"Sweetheart, you don't have to be." Ben says, and this time he pulls you from the air so that your bare feet swish in the grass again. His hand falls under your chin to raise your face to his. "That's why I'm here. You don't have to do this alone anymore, you don't have to carry this all on your shoulders. I am here and I am not going anywhere."

"But-"

"Please. I'm asking you to give me your pain, your anger, your burdens, your sorrows. Give me all of you. It's not going to scare me away." Ben whispers, taking your face between his hands. "I know that in the past I haven't been as dependable, but nothing is going to scare me away. I love all of you, even the pieces of yourself you keep from me, that you think you have to, to keep me here with you."

Fuck I sound like a pussy, but it's true. She's all I have and all I've ever wanted. And why shouldn't I say this to her? It's what she says to me. It's what she tells me and I believe her. I believe her when she says that I can rely on her, that I don't have to be strong all the time, that I can break.

He searches your face, brushes his thumbs across your rain soaked cheeks. I just want her to know that she can too and trust that I'll be here for her.

The vortex stops, the pieces of earth, trees, and grass falling to earth, the purple fading from your eyes as they do. You're no longer glowing, no longer a beacon in the night, you're just you, the woman that Ben loves more than life itself, and the woman that he thought he would never have ever again.

"I love you too." You whisper leaning into him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to lean your forehead against his.

He can feel the curves of your body against him, your wet clothes sticking like a second skin, hair stuck to your head, but you're just as beautiful as you always have been. And Ben understands that this time, he's not going anywhere, that he's going to stay with you for the rest of his life, and nothing can keep him away.

Reader POV

"Mindstorm told me." Ben says dragging his hand up your arm. You were laying on his chest in the bedroom, hair still wet, but now wearing dry clothes.

The residual thrum from your use of power was still charging through your cells, but lessened. Honestly you didn't remember going outside, didn’t remember standing in the storm, didn't know how long you were out there before Ben came out.

You were glad he did. You weren't in your right mind when you were out there, and if he hadn't come out you were sure that you were going to charge Vought yourself, tear it down and send it to hell where it belonged. You still wanted to, but you wanted Ben to do it with you. He was right, you didn't have to do it alone, and you didn't want to.

You nestled further into him, remembering what he shouted outside, remember how he held your face with the storm raging around him. He looked so afraid. You had only seen him look scared a handful of times in your life, but out there in the storm was different. It shocked you back into reality, brought you back from the pit, made you feel like you again for the first time in days.

And what he said hauled you further out of the darkness. You had said it to him countless times since he came back, that he didn't have to hide away what he was feeling from you, but for him to say it to you meant that he was listening. To you, Ben saying that made all of this more real, that he really wanted every part of you, that he loved you as much as he said.

The storm still raged outside, thunder occasionally shaking the windows, and lightning flashing behind the closed curtains, but you stayed curled up against Ben. Your head was tucked under his chin, arm wrapped over his bare chest. He hadn't put a shirt back on after the two of you changed, but you weren't complaining about that, there wasn't anything to complain about when it came to that. He was just so wonderfully warm, that you didn’t think you would get used to it. You also hoped that you didn't turn radioactive because of him, but you being here with him, laying on his warm chest made it worth it.

"Did he know about what Vogelbaum did?" You whisper.

Ben's muscles tense beneath your body when you ask that question. You knew that it hurt him, that it made him feel like he'd failed to protect you, but you didn't blame him for that. Even if he had been around, you knew that Vogelbaum would have figured out a way to do it, to get around him. And you didn't like it when Ben felt like he failed, it made you think about all the terrible things that his father used to yell at him when he was a kid. Ben had told you bits and pieces, over the years, and it was enough to make you want to travel back in time and kill his father yourself.

Honestly, you thought about killing him all the time when you weren't a supe as well.

"No. He didn't know that. All he knew was that Homelander was our son." When Ben says the word son he hesitates as if it's difficult for him.

It was also difficult for you, understanding that you had another kid and one that you didn't have anything to do with for forty years was hard. You suddenly understood how Ben felt about Rosemary.

"I should have known." You mutter into his chest.

"What do you mean?"

You sigh loudly. "At the premiere, Vogelbaum was pushing for me to come to the lab, said he was working on raising the "next generation of heroes" or whatever. And then Stan tried to come by and get me to do the same thing after you died, but I broke his nose."

"I remember." Ben mutters.

"What do you mean you remember?" You sit up to stare at him.

Ben raises an eyebrow. "I might have been there with Countess, but do you really think I wasn't listening to everything that was happening around you? He was dancing with you, I was making sure that everything was okay." Ben clears his throat awkwardly. "I mean I know that there was a lot happening that night, but I still wanted to make sure that you were okay."

"I wasn't."

"Yeah I-um- I know." His eyes flick away in shame.

"Ben?"

"Yeah?" He murmurs.

You gently turn his face back to look at you, fingertips under his chin. His green eyes are downcast, brows furrowed, lips pulled down into a frown. You knew how much he was still beating himself up for everything that happened in the past, and it was difficult for you to pretend that you didn't still feel the sting. But you knew he wasn't going to do it again, you believed that.

"It's okay. We're starting over. Just you and me." You brush your thumb over his bearded cheek. "No one else. This time what we're doing, it's different, it all feels different. Don't you think so? I mean I still love you just as much as I always have, but I-" You could feel yourself blush just a little, you weren't sure if Ben could feel that too.

"I know. It does." Ben whispers gazing at you. His fingers push back the strands of your hair that have fallen forward into your face. The way he's looking at you is the same way he did the morning you woke up on his chest after you slept together for the firs time. "I love you too Sweetheart." His lips find yours, gently pulling you up further on his chest so he can kiss you deeply, show you how much you mean to him, and you can’t help but smile into his mouth, feeling warm and happy for the first time in ages. His love dragging you out of the darkness that loomed over you and consumed your heart when Stan told you the truth about Homelander's heritage. 

You sit up, folding your legs beneath you, pulling Ben's right hand into your lap, gently tracing the lines with a finger tip, noting the rough callouses that he'd developed over the years. You weren't really sure what to say next.

Ben sits up so that he's leaning towards you. "Are you feeling better?"

"A little." You continue to trace the lines. His hands were so much bigger than yours, everything about Ben was big, but you liked his hands, mostly because how small yours were when you held his. "I think destroying Legend's backyard was just the right amount of therapy."

"That was a little much, but I'm glad you're feeling better. I was-" Ben swallows. "I was really worried about you."

"I know." You whisper. "It's never been that bad before. The last time I got close was-" You stop mid-sentence.

"Forty years ago?" Ben asks quietly.

You nod.

"I figured." Ben scoots closer towards you so that his thigh is brushing against yours. "I'm-"

"No." You squeeze his cheeks, eyes narrowing. "No more saying sorry. Not again."

"Okay." Ben's gaze is still apologetic. He waits for a minute, watching you in the silence. "What are we going to do about Homelander?"

"I don't know."

It was the truth, you had no idea what to do with your supposed son. You had seen the coldness in his eyes, heard about the horrible things that he was doing to other people, the horrible things he had threatened to do, and you'd seen the way he didn’t seem to care about human life.

Then again maybe I can't judge him, not after what I did to Stan. You think, your frown deepening. Stan deserved what I did to him and my only wish is that Vogelbaum somehow survived getting his head fucking blown off so I can make him pay.

"Do you think we should try to talk to him?" Ben asks.

"I don't think that's possible."

"Why not? He's our son, somewhere deep down he's got to be willing to do that." Ben's voice rumbles up through his chest. "Maybe they brainwashed him into the person we saw at Herogasm, maybe he's just being controlled and told what to do just like we were."

"I don't think that’s possible."

"Why not?" There's an urgency in his eyes that is unfamiliar to you, almost as if he's pleading for you to understand.

But why? Yes he's our son by blood but we don't know anything about him. We haven’t been in his life for forty years, we don't have any connections to him.

"You saw how he was at Herogasm. How he was almost happy to kill Butcher, how he was happy when he tried to kill you and me. I don't know what kind of person is okay with that. I mean you and I have killed people and we feel remorse after, or there's some kind of justification, but there was something in his eyes, it's almost not human. It's predatory, it's-" You shake your head trying to comprehend it. "I don't know what the fuck Vogelbaum did to him, but there's something inside Homelander that's not able to be saved."

"You don't know that."

"Ben, do you think that I want to believe that? To believe that our son is not a good person?" You drop his hand from your lap. "It's taking everything I am not to go to him, not to try and work this out. I keep trying to tell myself that maybe all he needs is family, but I don't know."

"My old man said that blood mattered. That it was the only thing that defined family-"

"Now you want to listen to your dad?" You sigh looking at Ben who is frowning at you. "We both know that he's not exactly the best role model."

"Well neither am I okay?" Ben snaps, his eyes flashing. "Maybe he just needed someone and there was no one there. I mean I wasn't there for Rosemary, but she had you and she turned out fine!"

"That's not your fault Ben. It's not your fault that you weren't there. You can't forget that they sent you to Russia to replace you with him."

"I'm not forgetting I'm just saying that they did the same fucking thing to me!"

Your next thought fizzes to a stop in your brain. What is he talking about?

"What are you talking about?" You try to reach for him, but he pulls back from your touch.

"They force fed him all that shit about what it was to be an American, they made him a supe, they brainwashed him with all my old fucking films." He spits. "But in the lab when we got the serum the first time, they did the same thing to me. They told me that I was going to be a god, that I was going to be the symbol that America needed to get through the war, that I was everything that would save America from destruction."

"Ben." You say again, this time taking his hands and he doesn't pull away. "Ben listen to me. You were older when you became a supe, we both were. You knew what reality was, you knew what the world was like when the scientists started spouting all their crap. You were old enough to understand. Homelander was raised in a lab, he didn't have a family, he didn't have friends. He was told that he was a god every day and he's not. He was raised to believe that he was something more than human, something unbeatable."

"But-"

"They told me that too." You push his hair back out of his eyes, trailing your fingers against his forehead. "That I was a god, that everyone would want me, would look at me and understand that I was beyond human. And at the beginning maybe I believed it for a few years, but that doesn't make him anything like you or like me. He's twisted, his mind is gone, any semblance of humanity he had has been warped away into something dark. He never had any light to begin with."

"You don't know that."

"I do. I can see it in his eyes. I saw it when I fought him at the Herogasm. There's nothing left to save. He's done terrible things."

"I have too." Ben mutters.

"No. You lost control, we all do. It's unrealistic to think that it won't happen, especially not for people like us who have lived this long, but him? He did those things of his own volition, because he believed that he should or maybe it was because he believed that no one could stop him." You cup his cheek, pulling his face forward into the space between the two of you. "The things you've done you feel remorse for. I was there for you every time you messed up. I saw what it did to you, saw how broken you were when you hurt someone."

"Because I'm a hero." Ben sighs. 

"Messing up once or twice does not make you less of a hero Ben, it makes you human." You lean your forehead against his, cupping his cheeks with your palms, feeling the way his beard tickles against your skin. "But Homelander, I don't think that there's anything human left."

Ben's hand comes up to hold on to your left wrist. "Then what do we do?"

"I don't know." You sigh. "I wish I did. If you really want to try to talk to him, we can, but I don't think that it's a good idea."

"He's still our son."

"He's our blood, but I don't think that makes him our son." You murmur.

You really didn't know how to deal with any of this. You wanted to believe that there was some semblance of humanity left in Homelander, but you didn't think that there was. You hated that Ben believed that he was like his son. Maybe that was some weird misogynist thing and Ben kept thinking like father like son in his head, but there wasn't any way that Homelander could be anything like Ben. Ben wasn't around for him, wasn't in his life, but maybe.

Ben pulls you back down on his chest once more, and you nestle into him once more, your head directly over his heart, the warmth of his skin comforting against your cheek.

"I think Noir knew." You breathe, tracing your hand over Ben's right pec.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Stan kinda hinted that he did, said that Noir was obsessed with me after I saved his life-"

"When did you save his- oh." Ben sighs.

"I think I should have seen that coming, given how much he kept showing up to my sparring sessions, the interviews, even some of the commercial shoots I had he seemed to always be around." You frown with a sigh. "I can't believe that I didn't know he was stalking me."

"What?"

"Stan said he kept breaking in to my apartment when I wasn't there, that he stole my necklace, you know? The one my dad got me for my birthday-"

Ben sits back so he can look you in the eye. "You're shitting me right?"

"No. That's what Stan said." You shrug. "Might have been just Stan trying to take some of the heat off, but that's what he said."

"That piece of shit." Ben almost growls. You can see the flash of jealousy and possession in his eyes that makes your heart thud a little faster in your chest. He clears his throat. "You-um- you never liked him right?"

"What?"

"The two of you were never that close?"

"Why are you asking me that?"

"Well you did save his life."

"Ben I've saved plenty of people from your temper. But no, I never liked him that way. Irving was sweet, but he was always so eager to prove himself to Stan it was just sad."

"Good."

"Why?" You sit up further, smirking at him. "Does that make you jealous? For you to think that Noir and I were together?"

Ben's eyes darken. "Watch it Sweetheart."

"Watch what?" You bat your eyes innocently. "I'm just asking a simple question."

"You keep poking the bear and you're not gonna like what happens."

"Poking the bear?" You snort sitting up and poke him in the ribs. "Are you the bear in that scenario?" You poke him again with a wicked smirk.

"Yes."

"Hmm. Well I think you're all talk. Because I have definitely poked you several-"

You're on your back in a second with Ben hovering over you, his green eyes shining as he flashes a roughish grin at you. One of his hands is pressed into the pillow next to your head, the other is at your waist, slipping beneath your t-shirt to rub circles over your hip bone with his thumb. "You were saying?" His voice is the low rumble that makes it hard for you to think.

You clear your throat. "I was saying that," You thread your hands behind the back of his head, working your fingers into his hair. "You have nothing to be jealous about."

"Really?"

"Mhhmm." You smile sheepishly. "Because it's always been you. No one else. Not Howard, Not Noir, just you." His hair is soft between your fingertips, his gaze unbreakable.

Ben returns your smile and collapses on top of you. You gasp out a breath, in a loud 'oof' sound as he does. His arms go around your waist and he buries his head in your chest breathing deeply. "I like it when you say that." He murmurs, turning his head so he can look up at you from your chest, with a smile that catches you in your heart.

"I know." You continue to scratch your fingertips through his hair.

"Sweetheart?"

"Yeah?" You breathe as you close your eyes, comforted by the weight of his body on top of yours. It was familiar, almost like he was a weighted blanket that took all your anxiety away. You felt safe with his arms wrapped around your waist, as if no one could touch you. You needed that now, needed that after you learned that without Ben someone had taken you from your home.

"I know that I can't say that there hasn't been anyone else." He whispers. "But you're the only one who mattered. You're the only woman that I've ever loved, and I swear that as long as I live I'll never love anyone else. You are all I've ever wanted and everything I thought I'd never have."

"You have me Ben." You whisper, beginning to fall asleep. "You always have, you always will."

And with those words you drift into the first fulfilling sleep you'd had in days, wrapped in the warm cocoon of Ben's love, allowing it to send you under into oblivion.

A/N: I know this one was mostly fluff and talking, but I thought that the reader deserved that after everything with Stan, and also after she well -you know- made a tornado in Legend's backyard. We're going to pretend that no one else heard it. 😂

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist please let me know :)

And if you'd like to read something a little more bantery then try my series: Take A Chance On Me

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[schilders]

TEAR YOU APART | geto, sukuna

SYNOPSIS: things had been going well between you two. that is until suguru finds out you’re a virgin, and suddenly everything changes. will things ever go back to the way they were?

geto x reader (fem) x sukuna CURRENTLY: on-going / ao3 STORY CONTENT: romance, angst, alternate universe / modern world, emotional conflict, jealousy, character growth, humor, complex relationships, smut, tension, everyone is mid to late twenties except reader who I imagine to be about twenty-three, sukuna and geto are probably ooc but that's the fun thing about fanfic, characters can be whoever you want them to be!

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER THREE: 4.9k words NOTE: i feel like there's something important i wanted to say here for this chapter but i forgot lol. ig it's that don't expect reader to forgive suguru so easily? like she's mad (rightfully so) at him, so if it feels like he's a lil absent then it's for a reason. also thanks for reading here, but also I wouldn't mind if you choose to read over on ao3 instead! if you wanna be tagged lmk!

You turn over in your bed, lashes fluttering as sleep clings to your body. The warmth of the blanket envelops you, and you find yourself snuggling deeper into the soft, plush mattress. A ding to your right threatens your sleep, your eyes rolling under their lids. You manage to ignore it until it happens three more times in quick succession.

“What the fuck,” you mutter, leaning up on your elbow to grab the device causing harm to your precious sleep. The light is blinding as you unlock your phone, squinting as you stare at your notifications in disbelief.

“Is he serious?”

Sukuna: hey [3:23 am] Sukuna: are you up [3:24 am] Sukuna: don’t ignore me, babe [3:24 am] Sukuna: it’s rude [3:24 am]

You stare, mouth agape, at the sheer gall of this man. It’s three thirty in the fucking morning, and here he is texting you.

Sukuna: i’m outside btw [3:26 am]

“What the fuck? ” Your eyes widen, the blanket falling from your body as you sit up, your hand tight around your phone. There’s no way he knew where you lived, right? Who on earth did you give your number to?

Sukuna: just kidding [3:27 am]

“He’s so annoying. ” You whisper, dragging a hand down your face, fully sitting up, your fingers dancing across the screen as you reply.

➤ sukuna, what on earth ar yuo doing messaging me at thsi hour [3:28 am]

Sukuna: are* you* this* jeez, sweetheart, you really gotta utilize autocorrect [3:29 am]

➤ it’s 3:30 in the mroning do you rly think i give a shit about autocorrect [3:29 am]

Sukuna: morning* [3:29 am]

➤ Oh my god [3:30 am]

Sukuna: it’s endearing, really [3:30 am]

You rub at your face with one hand, trying desperately to wipe away the dregs of sleep that still weighed heavily on your body. You shiver, pulling the blanket back over you as you curl into a ball on your side, watching your phone screen for the next annoying text from him. When he doesn’t send anything, you type up your own message.

➤ why are you texting me [3:32 am]

Sukuna: I'm bored [3:33 am]

➤ then go to sleep [3:33 am]

Sukuna: that’s boring [3:34 am]

➤ do anything other than bother me then [3:34 am]

Your lids grow heavy as you start to drift and await his reply. After a few moments of no new notifications, you take this as a sign that he’s gotten the message. Tossing your phone back on your nightstand you turn over in bed, face snuggling deeper into the pillow as your eyes finally close.

Ding!

Your eyes snap open, sitting up in a huff, you throw the blankets off of you and angrily snatch up your phone, fingers working rather swiftly as you type up a lengthy response.

Sukuna: so [3:40 am]

Ignoring his text, you continue typing, eyes narrowed as you call him every name in the book, that is, until his next message has your fingers halting, hovering over your screen.

Sukuna: let’s go out tomorrow [3:40 am]

Quickly, and unfortunately, you delete your response, fingers darting over the screen once more to ask what the hell he's on about.

➤ so you messaged me at three in the morning to ask me to go out with you? [3:42 am]

Sukuna: yeah [3:42 am]

➤ no [3:43 am]

Sukuna: why not? [3:43 am]

God, he's infuriating.

Sukuna: there’s this diner, the food’s really good. we should go for breakfast [3:43 am]

Rubbing at the bridge of your nose, you frown, your face scrunching up as you consider his words. If you said yes, maybe he’d spare you for the rest of the night, and you could actually get some sleep. On the other hand, it might just urge him on even more, and then you’re stuck having to deal with all his incoming messages.

Or you could always block him if he doesn’t take the hint.

➤ if i say yes will you leave me alone [3:45 am]

Sukuna: for tonight? yes [3:45 am]

➤ fine. [3:45 am]

Sukuna: send me your address ill pick you up tomorrow [3:46 am]

➤ no we’ll meet there [3:46 am]

Sukuna: :( [3:47 am]

Sighing, you place your phone back on your nightstand, sure to put it on the charger if you were expected to wake up in the next few hours. You can’t believe he got you to cave so he could take you out. “He’s so irritating.” Settling back into bed, you curl in on yourself, cocooning yourself into your blanket. A few minutes go by, and when you’re sure he’s done bothering you, you begin to drift off.

Ding!

“I swear to God.” Blindly reaching over to your nightstand once more, you grab your phone, getting ready to cuss his ass out and tell him breakfast is off before you notice his text.

Sukuna: goodnight [3:50 am]

Sighing in annoyance, you dim the screen and return the phone to its place for the final time that night.

Looking down at your phone, you double-check to make sure you’re at the right place. Looking up at the sign on the building, the words ‘Po’s Diner’ stare back at you, the name simple and straight to the point.

Entering the diner, a bell dings above your head, and you find yourself glancing around for a head of pink hair. You notice him before he notices you, his tall frame standing out among the rest of the diners.

His arm is slung over the back of the booth, his face turned towards the window, watching as the cars go by.

Sighing, you reluctantly make your way over to him. The first thing you notice is that he’s discarded his jacket, having sat it in the seat beside him. The next thing is the tattoos adorning his arms. Bold, symmetrical patterns are inked into his skin, you’ve never seen anything like them before, and you wonder if he had any more.

“Sukuna.” You acknowledge him, hands stuffed in your pockets.

He turns to you, a grin already on his face as he stands to properly greet you, his towering height casting a shadow over you. “For a second there, I thought you weren’t going to show up.”

You roll your eyes. “I considered it.”

“I appreciate the honesty.”

“Yeah, well…” You shrug, looking around the small diner, taking in the retro decor.

Sukuna retakes his seat, raising an eyebrow at you. “You just gonna stand there all bundled up like a snowman or what?”

Your brow twitches, hand itching to smack him upside the head. “For your information, no, I am not. ”

“C’mere,” He turns in his seat, one large hand reaching out to grasp your hip pulling you to stand between his long legs. His fingers deftly undo the buttons on your coat before shrugging it off your shoulders. 

You say nothing, too startled by his sudden shift in demeanor, allowing him to slide the coat down your arms.

“There,” he says casually, placing your coat down beside his own. He gestures for you to take a seat across from him.

Silently, you obey, sliding into the booth. Your mind wanders, curious about the change in his behavior, unable to make sense of it. He's an odd individual you quickly learned.

“Here,” he slides the menu across the table. Your glance from the folded laminated paper up to his face where his eyebrow is raised curiously.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You shake your head, picking up the menu, not taking in any of the options as you think about your companion sitting opposite you.

“So, princess, you gonna tell me about the guy from the restaurant? What is his name..?” Sukuna tried to recall the caller ID that day at the coffee shop, but all he could remember was that it started with an S.

Your lips form a thin line as you place the menu down, glaring at him. “There was no guy at the restaurant; they were just friends.”

“Okay,” he nods, drumming his fingers on the table. “I mean, you can keep lying to me, or you could tell the truth.”

You didn’t understand what his intentions were. You didn’t know if he was interested in you or rather the drama surrounding your life. Gritting your teeth, your fist clenches underneath the table, an overly tight smile stretching across your lips.

“That is the truth,” you say, your voice strained and steady, though the forced smile on your face betrays you.

Sukuna leans back in his seat, one brow raised as a smirk plays on his lips, a hand coming up to adjust his glasses. “Sure, princess. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Why does it matter to you so much?” You ask, smile wavering, nails digging into the palm of your hand.

He chuckles, a sound that fuels your irritation. “Is it so odd for a man to be curious about the relationship of the woman he wishes to court?” He asks mockingly, folding his hands over his stomach. 

You scoff, and for a moment all you could do was stare at him in disbelief. The audacity of this man. You shake your head, glancing away. “Court? Really? ” you mutter, finding your gaze drifting back to him, that annoying smirk still on his face.

“Yes, really— ” He begins, only to be cut short by the sound of your voice cutting through.

“Wait a minute! There is no relationship. I told you that,” you snap, pointing a frustrated finger at him. “There is nothing going on between Suguru and me, so drop it!”

You huff, leaning back in your seat, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. It’s quiet for a moment before Sukuna’s voice breaks through the silence, his tone laced with amusement.

“Suguru, huh?”

Your stomach drops.

Fuck.

“C’mon,” he teases, leaning forward with his arms folded on the table. “Use me as your diary.” He echoes the words from your first encounter, that infuriating smirk still on his face.

“I don’t want to,” you say, truthfully. You aren’t about to spill your guts to some guy you’ve just met. It isn’t his business that Suguru dumped you outside, all because you were a virgin.

Now that you think about it. What would happen, say, hypothetically, if you and Sukuna hit it off and pursued a relationship? Eventually, it’d lead to sex, and you’d have to come clean about being a virgin.

You stare at him, brows furrowing as you picture this imagined scenario. Would he also have a problem with it? Or does he not care? To be honest, he seems like the type to not care. But you hardly knew him, so what could you honestly say?

“What?”

You shake your head, choosing to change the topic at hand. “How long have you had those?” you ask, gesturing toward the piercings in his face. There were multiple ones in his ears, with the first lobe stretched much like Suguru’s. Both nostrils were pierced, his septum, too, and another one vertically through his bottom lip. You also noticed when he spoke that he had his tongue pierced as well. Originally you thought his glasses didn’t fit his face, but now that you look at them, the wire frames mesh well with his piercings.

“Since I was eighteen,” he replied casually, fiddling with one of the hoops in his ear. But as expected, he shifts the conversation back to the original topic. “So, what’s up with Suguru?”

Of course, he’d find a way to circle back. Shaking your head, you sigh, searching his face for any sign that he was lying about not telling anyone.

“We’d been hanging out for a few weeks,” you begin, your voice trailing off. “Somehow, things changed, and we ended up dating? I don’t know.” You briefly glance at him, gauging his reaction. “We fooled around a bit, but nothing more than that. I thought we were closer than that, but apparently, not to him.” You conveniently leave out the main issue, not wanting to share such sensitive info just yet.

“That’s it?” Sukuna leans back slightly, cocking an eyebrow. He’s not mean in his questioning; more so blunt. As though he’s trying to figure out why it even mattered. “Doesn’t sound like much of a loss, princess.”

You think over his words. Sure, without the full context, it just sounds like a situationship where you wanted more but he didn’t. But add to the fact that he ended things because you were a virgin, and suddenly you feel like everything’s different.

“But I’ve decided to move on. After the other night it seemed like he's over it all, so why not me too?”

Sukuna nods in understanding, throwing his arm over the back of the seat again. “Good. There’s no need to sulk over someone like that. It’s not worth it, princess.”

Your lips twist into a frown, arms folding over your chest. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Why not?” He teases, cocking an eyebrow at you as if daring you to say something.

He infuriated you. You had no idea why you agreed to go out with him. All you had to do was block his number; it’s not like he had other ways to contact you. So, why did you find yourself tolerating him?

As you’re lost in thoughts, the waitress finally makes her way over, a friendly smile on her face. “Sorry for the wait. As you can see, we’re kind of busy this morning.”

“It’s fine,” you reassure her.

“So, what can I get for you?”

You didn’t really have time to look over the menu, as you were dealing with Sukuna and his questions. So you picked up the menu and quickly skimmed it, pointing out a random dish that sounded good. Sukuna also gave his order, which the waitress jotted down before taking her leave.

“I can’t imagine you’re having fun,” you say after a moment, meeting his gaze. “I’m sure this isn’t how you imagined this to go.”

Sukuna chuckles, the sound low and rumbling. “I’m quite enjoying myself, truly.”

Your brows raise in surprise, lips parting, “After all I’ve put you through, you’re still happy with how this ‘date’ ,” you say, raising your hands and making air quotes. “Is going?”

“What can I say?” He leans forward, as close as he can get with the table between you. “I like my women… stubborn.”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes, something you find yourself doing a lot lately. “Is that how you see me?” You can’t fault him, you were acting rather defensive and confrontational. But you had every right to be. You’d just met him, and here he is prying into your personal life with that stupid, pretty face of his.

Sukuna smirks, leaning back in his seat. “You? Stubborn? Nah.” His voice drips with sarcasm, a deep chuckle leaving his lips, the sound aggravating you. “It’s fine, though,” he adds. “Keeps things interesting.”

You cross your arms and lean back in your seat, matching his posture. “So you like being constantly annoyed? Good to know,” your voice is dry, eyes rolling.

He laughs again, tilting his head, his sharp eyes watching you closely. “Annoyed?” he echoes. “No, I’d say it’s more like entertained.” His smirk turns into a lazy grin, canines on display.

His words send a jolt of irritation through you, yet there’s a heat in his gaze that keeps you rooted in your seat. You hated how he got under your skin, nestling there like a little bug, eating away at your flesh.

Sukuna couldn’t help but find all this amusing. His red eyes twinkled with mischief. 

“Well, I’m glad I could be a source of entertainment,” you snap, your irritation only making his grin widen. Sukuna's having fun. He almost wanted to tease you further, to see how far he could push, how long you’d let him play this game. But he doesn’t. Instead, he gets serious for a moment, gaze softening, something uncharacteristic of him.

“I am enjoying myself, genuinely.”

His sudden shift in demeanor again has you squirming in your seat, lips twisting. “Don’t do that. It’s weird.”

That mischievous glint returns to his eye, cocking his head to the side he grins again. “What?” he mocks. “Falling for me already?”

“Not even close.”

That pulls a deep, rumbling laugh from him. His shoulders shake from the force of it. His chuckles come to a slow stop, and his elbow comes to rest on the table. His chin settles into his hand, a genuine smile on his lips.

“Stop doing that,” you mutter, picking at the napkins where they reside inside the holder. He's starting to make you feel weird, and you don’t like it. The way he smiled at you didn’t fit his face, yet it made your stomach flutter. “I told you it’s weird.”

“Sorry, princess,” he apologizes, though he’s not sorry at all, far from it, actually.

He continues to stare at you like that, and you have to force yourself to look away, your gaze locking on the people in the booth behind him. You wondered where this would lead the two of you. If he’d ask you out again and if you’d agree. You have a feeling that you would, as much as you’d like to deny it.

Your footsteps echo throughout the empty hallway, today was another uneventful day. You were tired and just wanted to kick your shoes off and rest. It'd been a few days since your date with Sukuna.

Pulling your keys from your pocket, you unlock the door and step inside. What you’re greeted with is the last thing you expect.

Suguru stands in your apartment, hands in his pockets as he stares you down. He’s dressed casually; dark jeans, a simple black long-sleeved T-shirt. It’s nothing flashy, and it pisses you off how effortlessly attractive he is. His long hair cascades down his back, half of it pulled back into a ponytail like always. The dim lighting in your apartment highlighted his sharp features.

You had forgotten you gave him a key to your apartment, having let him come over while you were at work as he got off earlier than you, so he’d greet you at your place.

“Suguru,” you murmur, placing your keys down in the dish by the door. You toe your shoes off, never breaking eye contact with him, as if he’d disappear if you took your eye off him.

He says your name, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he waits for you to approach him.

You don’t, though, instead, you fold your arms over your chest, staring him down much like he did you. “What are you doing here?”

“Just thought I’d stop by to see how you’ve been,” he says casually. “We really haven’t talked in the past, what? Month or so, longer than that.”

Yeah, and whose fault is that? You think to yourself. His audacity had you clenching your teeth, anger bubbling inside of you as you think back to how he did you. You were getting over it, so why did he have to show up now of all times?

“I’ve been fine,” you reply curtly, leaning back against the wall. “Nothing’s really changed.” You shrug, shoulders tense. “Work is still the same. I don’t do much except work and come home. I’m too tired to do anything after that, to be honest.”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Suguru says calmly, though you sense something else in his words. “For weeks now since before dinner.”

No shit, Sherlock.

He had some nerve. Saying you’re avoiding him as if it isn’t his fault. He quite literally kicked you to the curb. Sure, he tried reaching out, but why would you answer him? Now that you think about it, you wonder if it's really your feelings for Suguru that had you upset at him. Because truthfully, you could’ve still been friends if he hadn’t kicked you out the way he did. But could you have handled not being with him anymore? Did you genuinely develop feelings for him in the short amount of time you’d been with him?

“Is that why you’re here?” you say, voice harsher than you intended. “To make me feel guilty?”

He approaches you now, and you can’t read the expression on his face. He stops in front of you, impossibly close, his dark eyes locking onto yours. You press yourself closer against the wall, and he takes advantage of this, choosing to press a hand to the wall by your head, invading your personal space.

“Be honest,” he whispers, breath tickling your skin, a shiver running down your spine. “Are you fucking him?”

You freeze, blood boiling as his words echo in your head.

Are you fucking him?

“That’s what it is, right?” he continues, his free hand rising, gently brushing the back of his knuckles against your cheek. “You sought him out so he could take your virginity. Is this some attempt at getting back at me? Do you think I’d take you back after you’ve been fucked by another man?”

“Shut up,” you whisper through gritted teeth, fists clenching by your side. You could hear your heart beating rapidly in your ears. “You know nothing.”

“Are you sure about that?” His hand moves to cup the side of your face, fingers curling around the side of your head, thumb stroking over your cheek. His breath brushed your cheeks, lips parted as his gaze flickered from your eyes to your mouth.

A shuddering breath leaves you, lashes fluttering softly, eyes threatening to close. One of your hands comes up to grip at his shirt, fingers twisting into the fabric. You instinctively pull him closer, his body flush against yours.

Your attention shifts to his lips, remembering how soft they were. How they left marks on your skin, his teeth sinking into your flesh.

“I missed you,” he admits, leaning down, nose brushing yours, lips centimeters apart.

“But you don’t want me.” Your fingers grasp his shirt tighter, knuckles turning white. Anger floods your entire being, a tinge of desire breaking through, twisting your insides. You hated how much you wanted him. How much you missed him. “You have no idea what you’ve done to me.” It’d only been about a month since you’d been with him, yet it felt like an eternity.

You fell for him, and you fell hard. A month with him and he’s got you like this, it almost seemed pathetic, honestly.

“You don’t want me like I want you.” Your voice trembles, tears pricking at your eyes, drifting shut.

Suguru feels his chest tighten, your words bouncing around in his head. His heart wrenches, and he can’t explain the emotions clawing at him, guilt and longing. It makes it hard to breathe. He can’t explain it, instead, he closes the distance between you two, lips sliding over yours in a soft kiss.

Immediately your lips part for him, his tongue slides against yours, a groan erupting from deep in his chest as your intoxicating taste invades his senses.

The hand on the wall slides down to cradle the other side of your face, fingers curling around the back of your head, holding you firmly. He presses closer, his body pinning you against the wall, hips pressed flush to yours. He wants to be close, so close he wants to melt into your skin.

His teeth catch your bottom lip, tongue darting out to smooth over the indents left behind. Your breath hitches, your free hand coming up to curl around his neck. His hands tilt your head back, deepening the kiss, and you whimper.

You barely part for breath, the soft smacks and clicks of your lips separating fill the room.

As you kiss him, you can’t help but think back to that night and how he rejected you. You attempt to pull back from the kiss only for him to draw you back in, lips gliding over yours. A moan slips out, and Suguru presses harder against you, teeth clashing as it becomes more intense.

“Suguru…” You manage to get out, pulling away for just a moment, his lips trailing over your cheek and down your jawline, his hands sliding down your body to rest on your hips.

Your eyes flutter when he bites where your neck meets your jaw, lips wrapping around the patch of flesh and sucking a dark mark into your skin. He trails his lips down your neck, sucking and nipping at your flesh, teeth sinking.

“Yes,” you shudder, pulling him closer, the hand on his neck tangling in the hair on his nape. You know you have to stop this before it goes too far. Before there’s a repeat of last time.

“Suguru…” Your jaw falls slack, eyes heavy-lidded.

“Mm,” he hums against your neck, his lips parting as he sucks another mark into your skin. The emotions neither of you could express flow through your body.

He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches, the way you melt into his touch, and a wave of possessiveness grips him. Does he touch you like this? He growls, the sound muffled by your neck, and he sinks his teeth deeper into your flesh, nearly hard enough to draw blood. The thought of another man, of Sukuna, having you like this makes his blood boil.

“Suguru,” Your eyes roll, fighting the urge to pull him closer or shove him away. “Suguru, stop.” You gain the strength to push him away, pulling him away from your neck, and his mouth detaches from your flesh with a wet pop. Your hands press against his chest, creating some distance between the two of you.

His eyes are hazy, admiring his work, the way the marks bloomed on your skin from his ministrations. Then his gaze shifts to yours, brow furrowing in confusion. Almost as if to say, ‘Why’d you do that?’

“We can’t do this.” Your voice is quiet, and your pupils shake as you attempt to make eye contact. His eyes are dark and heavy, and you want to reach out and pull him into you, to finish what he started. But you know that can’t happen.

“I—I’m not something to own.” It hurts you to say this, to push him away, but he did it first. You knew the only reason he was doing this was because of Sukuna. “If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be doing this,” you whisper, your body trembling from the anger and hurt you felt. “You think you can prevent me from seeing other people, but I’m not yours.”

Suguru nods slowly, frowning as he glances away for a moment, taking another step back. Then, a dry laugh escapes him, the sound bitter. “You really think that’s what this is all about?” He lies. He’d never admit it, but it's the truth, as much as he hated to say it. “You think I’m here because of him ?”

A shuddering breath leaves you, lips pressing into a thin line as you study his face, desperate for any sign of truth. It doesn’t matter though, because you already know.

“Suguru, I need you to leave.”

He sucks in a sharp breath, jaw clenching. Stuffing his hands in his pocket, he nods, eyes lingering on your face as if he were studying your features. “Okay.”

“Okay.” You echo, tears dotting your lash line.

He steps to his left, shoulder brushing yours as he opens the door, hands squeezing the knob as he pulls it. It slams behind him when he leaves, the sound loud in your ears. You take the moment to cry, sliding down the wall, head in your hands.

“What the hell is happening to me? We were together for a month. ” You pick your head up, quickly wiping away your tears before standing. You couldn’t believe you were letting a month-long situationship get you this worked up. You needed a break, not just from Suguru, but from everything.

“I need a break.” You decide, pulling out your phone to look at what days you could take off from work. You decide to treat yourself to a little vacation. You could lounge around and pamper yourself at home. “Or I could go to that spa Utahime told me about,” you murmur to yourself, searching the name and looking through the reviews.

A message notification pops up as you’re looking, the name catching your eye. Your thumb hovers over it, debating on whether or not to reply.

Sukuna: hey, got anything planned next friday? [6:46 pm]

Pursing your lips, you open it, thumbs swiping across the screen.

➤ no, I actually just took some days off, why? [6:48 pm]

Sukuna: good. let’s go out [6:48 pm]

end note: a mere moment of weakness from my girl reader. oh, they crazy asf for acting like this over a month of being romantically involved and they both need to stand tf up. also, if u don't like sukuna's piercings argue w ya mama

taglist: @inthedarkshadows000, @ashdiamashi, @firesgod, @sukunasrealgf, @lillycore

[bookvvitch]

♡ Kissed By The Baddest Villain ♡

Link To Masterlist

WC: ~3,000

CW: dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral sex, praise kink, fem dom, teasing, heavy petting. Proof read but no beta.

This chapter is possibly the horniest thing I've ever written lmao. Enjoy 💜

Chapter 7: Good Boy

“Gah, son of a bitch!” You drop one of six bags of groceries you’re bringing in at once.

You hate when it’s your turn being the grocery shopper. It seems like you always get stuck with this shitty job, probably because you’re the least recognizable out of everyone—which you do understand. But still, everyone here eats like a horse, so you end up having an entire two carts full of goods to bring in. You’re already pent up and mad just thinking about how you have to put this all away.

Unfortunately, there’s a meeting for the Vanguard Action Squad going on, so while everyone would normally be scrambling to help you bring everything in, you’re dealing with it alone this time. 

“Piss, fuck, shit and hell,” you mutter under your breath as you drag the bag you’ve dropped into the bar with your foot.

Twenty minutes later and you’ve finally got all of the groceries put away. You nod proudly at your work, then turn to see Dabi leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets and blue eyes fixed on your form. 

You startle, “Jesus. How long have you been here?” 

“Long enough,” he rasps, whiffs of smoke on his breath. 

“And you didn’t offer to help me because...?"

Dabi grins like he knows the punchline of a joke he hasn’t even told, “Thought maybe you could use some punishment for going out like that after I told you not to once already,”

Your brows pinch in confusion before you realize he’s talking about the leggings you’re wearing. Regular, commonplace, black leggings that he apparently thinks he can reprimand you for leaving the house in, despite seeing several other women in the exact same pair at the store. 

Right. 

Because he thinks he’s the one in control right now.

That's alright, this can be a good lesson for him.

“Sit on the couch,” your voice has grown husky, low in your chest, sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. 

He scoffs, “You think I'm just gonna—“

You narrow your eyes and dole out, “I said sit,”

Dabi isn’t sure what the hell has come over him, but he does as he’s told. He listens to your command, skulking silently to the couch, then taking a seat dead in the center as an act of rebellion so you won’t have a seat for yourself. You walk over to him calmly, like a stalking predator, a glint in your gaze that says you’re up to something. He gulps down the knot at his Adam’s apple, doing his best to stay still, concealing the shake in his hands as he peers up at you through his eyelashes. 

“Good boy,” you coo at him with a grin, and his breath hitches, eyes shot wide. 

“Don’t,” he clears his throat, “D-don’t fuckin call me that,”

“You don’t like it?” you tug at his earrings playfully.

He blushes bright pink at your question, pursing his lips, avoiding your eyes in the hopes that looking at the floor will quell the heavy stirring in his pants. He shouldn’t like this. Dabi is the one who should be in charge right now, not you. This is wrong.

So why is he this fucking hard right now?

“I didn’t say that,” his voice cracks, you taking control having made him feel bashful and small. 

“That’s good,” you sit on his lap, eliciting a grunt from him, “Because I think you’re the one that needs punished. But don’t worry,” you lick your lips, “I’ll reward good behavior,”

Your eyes flick towards him from over your shoulder, pupils blown out, the pheromones coming off of you close to knocking him back. 

Okay. Calm down. He’s been through way too much to let this get a rise out of him, and there’s no chance in hell he can give you the satisfaction of knowing that this is absolute torture. He tries to think about horrible things to keep himself from becoming too excited, but it’s too late; you have, quite literally, gotten a rise out of him. You press yourself further into his lap, sighing, planting your hands on either thigh. 

Fuck, okay, just concentrate. 

He shifts to rearrange the pressure in his pants, and a small noise gets caught up in your throat, something breathy, a wisp of a moan. Dabi pauses, aware now that his role is the prey you’ve been stalking in the night, before he gives another experimental nudge of his hips. You sound off with his movements once more, your cheeks pinched rose, lashes fluttering over top those starry eyes. They’re glassy and warm when you look at him, rocking into him with more purpose. 

“Fuuuck,” he smears his face with his hand, sweating, pulse in his fingertips, “If you don’t stop I’m gonna take you seriously,”

Two pairs of eyes meet when you tell him, “Then take me seriously,”

He doesn’t recognize the needy little whimper that rackets from him, rutting his cock against the searing heat of your sex beneath your clothes, matching your thrusts and grinds, eager hands grabbing at the inner plush of your thighs to spread them more. 

“There you go, good boy. Nnn, yeah. You like that?” You slip your clit up and down the length of him lightly as you murmur into his ear. 

He nods his head softly, apprehensive to show you just how much he’s enjoying the dominion you have over him. 

“Say it, then. Say you want my pussy,”

Dabi swallows thickly, maddened by the delicious writhing of your body, by the needful expression you wear in spite of the command in your voice. You haven't hardly touched him and he's already wrecked. And he has a feeling you won't relent until he fully admits that.

“Ahh—God, fuck, I-I want your pussy,” he stammers unsteadily from behind you. 

You trace a featherlight touch up his arm, then guide his hand to your aching cunt, his breaths becoming ragged heaves as you do. He groans when he sees your lids flutter at the way he rubs you in long, laving strokes through your pants, whining and bucking beneath you quite shamelessly now, the fingers of his other hand biting into your hip, unsure if he wants to push you off or hold you in place. You pull down your shirt and place both of his rough hands at your exposed breasts, and he groans, almost painfully, while he tweaks at your nipples. The sound sends a bolt of lightening straight through your center, and you abandon trying to pace yourself, grinding on his cock once more, the noises you’re making sinful and lewd.

“Stop, wait, I—fuck, hold on,” he gasps urgently, and you turn to smile at him with a wanton deviance, ceasing the brutal rocking of your pelvis. 

“What’s gonna happen if I keep going, hmm?” You trace a finger up the pulsing length of him through his pants. 

“Mmhh, gonna.. gonna…” his brows knit, shoulders tight and tense, and you can’t help but giggle at how spent he already looks. 

“Gonna what? What am I gonna make you do?”

He groans, hips twitching involuntarily, “You’re gonna make me cum,”

“Poor thing,” you reach back to card your fingers through his hair, “We can’t have that so soon. Or maybe even at all, since this is a punishment,”

You shift to face him, cupping his cheeks with your hands, then press your lips against his, tongue ring clicking the backs of your teeth, savoring the little grunts that flit from him in gentle puffs. He prods at your cunt sloppily, fingers petting you roughly, and you gasp at the pressure, rolling your hips in little circles to encourage the same movements of his digits. The coil within you tightens, winding deep and close to snapping, worsened by the way he’s panting. His eyes are cracked open just enough to watch your expression as he dips his hand past your waistband, the tip of his index finger working your clit, a pleased gasp escaping you when he moans into your mouth. 

Arousal has clouded his mind until he no longer cares what comes out of him, pleading with you, “Lemme eat your pussy,”

As soon as you nod, he’s got you slung over his shoulder, wordlessly carrying you into his bedroom. He closes the door behind him with his foot, then throws you onto his bed, calloused hands ripping off your leggings and then dragging up your thighs. He pulls you to the edge of the mattress, eye contact unbroken as he takes the elastic of your panties between his teeth, and you yelp when they snap back against you. With a deep inhale, he licks you through the material with one long stroke, palming at his cock as your breath hitches. 

“How do you like it?” He asks darkly, voice having taken an octave lower. 

Your body burns along with the cerulean of his irises, cunt clenching around nothing as you try to hold onto what’s left of your power grab, “Lick my clit and put your fingers inside of me,”

He pulls down the damp panties that cover you, clicking his tongue, breath shaking. 

“And I thought I was worked up,” he murmurs, “You’re fuckin soaked, doll,”

You buck into his face, and he grins wolfishly, the tables having turned now that you’ve shown your hand. He pulls you apart with his thumbs and ghosts his lips across your apex, gentle kisses tracing the little bud, and you writhe at the sensation of his panting against your sex. He chuckles mirthlessly as you let out a heady moan, slides two fingers into the velvet of your walls to feel you clamp around him. 

“You like feelin full?” He asks into your twitching cunt, and your desperate nod has him adding another digit as he growls, “There ya go, babe,”

“Oh, fuck, Dabi,” you mewl, arching your back, toes curling in your socks. 

He flicks his tongue across your clit, slow and methodical, a faint whisper of a touch that has you reeling for more. The ball of his tongue ring grazes you gently, sending your walls fluttering. You're not going to stand being the one getting teased like this. He makes a loud, strangled sound when you grab a fistful of his hair, pressing him by the back of his head into your pussy, muffling his cries as his eyes roll back. 

“Open,” you pat his cheek with your free hand, and he complies, hanging out his tongue so you can glide yourself across it. 

He works his fingers in and out of your sopping cunt, arousal dripping down to his wrist, and he curls his digits into the soft ledge within you until you cry out for him. His eyes are glazed and half-lidded, a groan rippling through his chest, cock pulsing within his pants as you graze your clit over the firm muscle of his tongue. 

“Take your cock out for me,” you yank his hair as you speak. 

“Uh-huh,” he obliges with his mouth full of your pussy, too fucked-out to disagree, his free hand releasing his dick from the confines of his zipper and relieving some of the growing pressure there. 

You yank his hand to your mouth, licking a big, wet stripe up his palm, “Play with it,”

He slams his eyes closed, brows tilted up as he pumps himself, heavy and hard in his hand. 

“Good fucking boy. Ahh—now suck,”

Dabi takes your clit in between his lips, capturing it fully, his tongue laving against the underside as he suckles your swollen bud. The moans pitch higher in your throat, sweeping through gasping exhales, nails scratching at his shoulder blades and causing him to grunt in approval.

“O-oh, just like that—just like that, Dabiii-aahhh!”

He runs his grip harshly over his shaft, thumbing his tip when his hand reaches the top, precum leaking to mix with your spit and lubricate him further. Your legs are shaking, hips stuttering as he coaxes you into an orgasm so intense that you’re seeing stars, and he hums against you when he feels the clamping of your cunt around his fingers, little moans and whimpers slipping pitifully from him as he watches you fall apart all over his face, feels you spasm around him.

You pull at his shoulders until he parts from you, panting, mouth glistening with your slick, his eyes glassy with lust. His length bobs in front of you, long and dripping, rosy and flushed at the tip, curved up slightly and so hard that it touches his stomach when it bounces.

You hum, a bit shocked at the size of him, “Pretty cock for a pretty boy,”

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his face burns pink, stating lowly, “I’m not pretty,”

“You are, though. You’ve got such pretty eyes, pretty lips, a cute little nose,” he looks awkwardly to the side, unsure of what to do with your praise, trying in vain to figure out a way to tell you just how beautiful he thinks you are. These thoughts are knocked loose when you purr, “Now c’mere,"

With shaking arms, you guide him until you’ve lined up his dick to where it rests teasingly between your folds, squeezing him at the base and dragging your still sensitive clit along his length. 

“Hah—lemme fuck you before I bust, holy shit,” He’s close to begging, the words sitting right on the tip of his tongue. 

“Well that doesn’t sound like much of a punishment,” you hiss through your teeth and circle his tip against your apex, the buildup of another orgasm tightening in your cunt, “‘Sides, this feels really good,”

“C’mon, Jesus, mmmnn.. You lemme lick your pussy. F-fuck, please,” his voice falters at the end, dangerously close to cumming his fucking brains out. 

“Did you like it?”

He nods his head, brows knitted, eyes falling closed, “You taste so good. Made all those noises for me. Wanna hear more’a that. Want you bad—want you so bad,”

Unable to withstand the temptation any longer, aching to be filled, you slip him into the damp plush of your center, unraveling as he stuffs himself in to the hilt, broken cries bleating into the air as he gasps at the feeling of being inside you.

“Goddamn, babe, you cummin again already? Fuck, yeah, you are,” he only gets a couple of thrusts in before the dam starts to break, babbling, drunk off of you, “That feels good. Oh, fuck, feels so good, tight little cunt milking my cock like this. You like that, doll? Yeah ya do, just look at you. Gonna cum in this wet pussy while you cream on my fuckin cock—I’m—I’m gonna—ahh, fuck!”

He yanks your legs apart, convulsing atop you, fingers gripping into the meat of your thighs as he whines, ruined, completely broken after experiencing the burning heat of your pleasure. You can feel him pulsing as he empties himself, throbbing, electricity racing up and down his spine. He's never felt anything so good as having you cum all over him.

“Good job,” you pat him on the cheek, “mmm, such a good boy, fucking me with that pretty cock,”

He kisses the side of your neck, chest heaving, bathing in the post-sex bliss of softening within you. 

“You’re so crazy,” he whispers. 

“For sleeping with you or thinking you’re pretty?”

He chuckles under his breath a bit, “Both,”

With a grunt, he pulls from your walls, watching as his cum leaks from your raw pussy, the spasms leftover from your orgasm causing rivets of white to gush onto your thighs. 

“So hot,” he whispers to himself. 

Dabi takes off the shirt he was wearing to dab you clean, careful not hurt you, gentle in a way you hadn’t expected of him. 

“You don’t think you’re pretty?” You ask as he crumples the shirt, throws it to the floor. 

He looks at you as if you’re stupid. 

“Are you stupid?”

Well, you guess you should’ve seen that question coming. 

“No, I just think you’re really cute,”

Dabi snarls, gestures to his entire body, points at the staples on either side of his face. 

“So?” He rolls his eyes at your remark, “No, really, I think you’re cute. Those things just give you character,”

You cuddle up to him, his body stiff as a board, pressing your head to hear the beating of his heart. He tries to shrug you off, but you remain steadfast. 

“This is what matters, even if you don’t think you’re a pretty boy like I do. You’ve got a good heart,”

“Gonna harvest my organs or something?”

Grinning, you tap him playfully on the arm, “No, jackass. I meant you’re a good guy. You’ve been nice to me since I got here. Even that thing you said about not liking the way I dress was because you didn’t want people looking at me,”

“Actually, doll, I didn’t want you figuring out how you drive me wild in those tight clothes,” the words escape his mouth before he can stop himself. 

“Well, either way. Don’t sell yourself short,” you tell him with a stretch. 

“We, uh.. we gonna do this again?” He fidgets with the button on his pants as he asks you this. 

You shrug, “If I feel like it,”

“What? C’mon, that felt good. I know it did, you came twice. I can make it feel even better if you’ll let me fuck you right next time,” he tries not to seem too eager to convince you.

“I dunno,” your voice lilts, “depends on how well you behave for me, I guess,”

“Behave for you?” Dabi repeats, watching you practically skip out of the room.

Behave.

So he has to play along with whatever game you've got in mind for him, then.

You’re going to make him absolutely crazy.

[nephilimeq]

Stuck in the Middle With You

Prompt: Clingy Boyfriend

@bucktommyfluffebruary

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62721625/chapters/160733068

Buck was annoyed.

No, scratch that—he was pissed.

It had been over seventy-two hours—and he still hadn’t seen his boyfriend. Hell, he had been forced to go back to his apartment because there was no point in going over to Tommy’s house because he wouldn't even be there for another forty-eight hours. Somehow—he had no idea how—the end of Bucks forty-eight had overlapped with the beginning of Tommy’s seventy-two, and the only thing he wanted to do was pull his hair out by the roots and scream into the void.

…But he couldn’t, so instead he was doing the next best thing: drinking with Eddie and complaining about his life.

“Dude, you’ll be fine,” his friend reassured him as he sat next to him at the bar at a quarter past eight. “it’s not like you guys haven’t gone five days without seeing each other since you two started dating…”

Buck didn’t look up at him, casting his eyes down towards his glass.

“Seriously?!”

He let out a whine as he stretched out almost flat against the bar and reluctantly admitted, “Yeah, we’ve kinda been attached at the hip—”

“Or other body parts,” Eddie muttered before taking a swig of his beer and Buck glared at him and said, “Hey! No interrupting!” and threw a rogue peanut shell at him, and then added, “I mean, we still text, call, and video chat, but…god, it’s just not the same, you know?” and then took a long drag of his own beer, thinking about the fact that Tommy would reprimand him for choosing such a generic brand instead of going for one of the nicer craft beers with a better flavor.

But he didn’t want a better flavor, he wanted to drown his sorrows and didn’t need something like flavor getting in the way of that. Besides, he wouldn’t have appreciated the taste anyway, far too focused on trying to numb the longing feeling in his chest that felt as though it was turning into a cavernous hole.

Eddie gave him a look and said, “Look, if you miss him so much, then why don’t you swing by the 217?” and Buck shot him a look.

“Because, they’re on standby for the fires and their schedule is all over the place! And-and I don’t wanna just, you know, show up like the clingiest boyfriend in the world! I’m not some, some…tween girl who’s obsessed, you know?”

“You’re not? Coulda fooled me,” his friend drawled as he turned and leaned with his back to the bar and Buck found himself glaring at him all over again, getting slightly annoyed at his friend’s attitude, and threw another peanut at him, thrilled when it hit his chin and then fell into the front pocket of his flannel, and he muttered into the crook of his folded arm, “Ha, three points,” knowing that if Tommy had been there he would have appreciated him making the basketball joke.

Eddie merely shot him an arched eyebrow.

“You’re acting like Christopher, right now, you do know that, right?” he said as he fished out the peanut and popped it into his mouth.

Buck scoffed and slowly sat up, saying, “If you’re telling me that I have the emotional maturity of a fourteen-year-old, you are way off on that mark. According to Dr. Jensen, I have the emotional maturity of a twenty-five year old.”

“Buck, you’re thirty-four.”

“Yeah, I’m still catching up. So?”

Eddie merely shook his head and took another sip from his beer while Buck cast a glance around the bar, noting that it was still a light crowd. Of course, it was the middle of the week, and eight o’clock on a Wednesday evening wasn’t exactly the hip time for people to be out drinking. God, he was pathetic.

--

“Oh, god, just call him!” Sal said, sounding thoroughly annoyed—but Tommy shook his head and said, “I can’t! He’s out with Eddie and I don’t want to bother him while he’s having a good time off shift, you know?”

“If he’s anything like you, he doesn’t know how to have a good time,” muttered Lucy from behind her cards on the other side of the table, her feet propped up on the edge. “I take that bet and raise you two skittles,” she then said, arching an eyebrow at him, and Tommy knew immediately that she was bluffing and said, “I call.”

She smirked.

“Read ‘em and weep, Kinard.”

She laid down her cards with all the confidence of someone twenty years her senior—and Tommy nodded and said, “Nice hand, Donato. Full house…which would be great if I didn’t have a straight flush,” and he laid down his hand with a smirk, and she let out a huff and dropped her legs and said, “God, I hate your poker face. You’re inscrutable.”

“It’s a gift,” he said, pulling the pile of candy towards him, popping a lemon skittle into his mouth…and found his eyes drifting towards his phone, where he had left it on the table, wondering if he should give Evan a call. He hadn’t been able to spend any time with him for two days already, and now he was stuck with another three days without him. God, he had never gone more than three days without him, and now he was going to be away from him for a total of five fucking days.

His hand twitched—and then Sal said, “For fuck’s sake, just call him!”

“Language Deluca!” shouted their captain, but he simply rolled his eyes and moved over to him, shoving his shoulder up against his.

“Look, have the two of you been apart for very long before? Anything longer than two or three days?” he asked…and Tommy reluctantly admitted, “Uh…no. We’ve never spent more than three days apart since we got back together,” and his friend let out a long sigh that lasted so long it almost seemed as though he was deflating.

He then said, “Mierda…you two are grade-a clingers, aren’t you?”

…and Tommy snorted and started to laugh and through his laughter he managed to say, “Okay, yeah, I guess we are. When we’re at home we do almost everything together,” he admitted, giving Sal a sideways glance. “I think we’re both kinda touch starved and we both need a lot of reassurance after what happened to us all those months ago. I think we’re also both a little bit afraid on some sort of subconscious level that the other person is gonna just up and leave …”

His friend turned so they were both facing the same way and said, “You two are good together. So, why don’t you text him?”

--

“…Because if I text him, then he’ll know that I can’t go more than a couple days at a time without him!” Buck explained as he stood on the other side of the pool table, moving the stick between his hands in an agitated manner. “I don’t want him to think that I’m desperate! Don’t you get that?”

Eddie glanced up at him as he lined up his shot and muttered under his breath, “I get that you’re both grade-a clingers…”

Buck shot him a look.

“You don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head and walking over to where Eddie was lining up his shot. “If I reach out first then that means I’m the clingier one! And I am not the clingier one! You’ve never seen how Tommy follows me around the apartment when he comes over…or how-how whenever I go to his place, he is constantly calling out to check in on where I am just in case so he can find me if he wants to share something with me because he thinks texting across the house is-is too…impersonal!”

At that, Eddie took his shot, missing it, and then straightened and said, “Je-sus, Buck. I’m thinking you two might be a little codependent,” and at that Buck arched an eyebrow at him as he bent over to line up his own shot and said, “Oh, big word for you. Therapy working?”

His friend shrugged.

“Eh, yeah. I guess. Still feels too much like confession to me,” he said with a pointed look, “But I think it’s working. Still—you and Tommy have a weird relationship.”

“No, we don’t,” Buck stressed, taking his own shot and sinking it without even glancing back down at the table. “We have a healthy relationship. I think the two of us are just trying to make up for lost time, you know? Those few months without him were hell for me, and for him, and now we just…I think maybe we’re just scared that one of us might come up with another reason to walk away from it and so we don’t like being away from each other for too long…”

Letting out a sigh, he went to line up his next shot…and then Eddie said, “So you’re not texting him because…?”

--

“Because if I text him, then he’ll know that I can’t go more than a few days without him,” Tommy said to Sal as they got the injured hiker into the medevac chopper. “And if he knows that, then he’ll know that I’m the clingier one, and I’m not! Do you know that Evan tries to text me across the house? I’ve told him to just let me know where he is and I can come to him, but no. He insists on being allowed to text me across the house, which is just…weird.”

From below them, the woman on the gurney lifted up a feeble hand and said, “You know, you and your husband should just sit down and talk about how to communicate when you’re feeling insecure, because that’s what I’m picking up on here,” and he quickly corrected her.

“He’s my boyfriend, not my husband.”

Sal then interjected, “But you want him to be your husband, don’t you?” and Tommy ducked his eyes and moved back to the pilot’s seat, pulling on his headset.

“I’m not talking about this with you, Sal.”

His friend shot him a look and said, “Uh, you kinda are. So just text him, already! You miss him because you love him, that’s not a bad thing,” he said as Tommy lifted the chopper into the air, heading for the hospital. “Love can make you do stupid things—like break up with someone when they ask you to move in with them,” he jabbed at him, and the airman groaned and repeated, “I am not talking with you about this! Evan and I…we can figure it out. We got back together, didn’t we?”

At that, his friend chuckled and said, “Yeah, sure, like you were the one who figured it out. Isn’t the only reason why you two got back together because Howie pulled some underhanded shit with his wife and kid in order to get you and your boy into the same room again?”

Tommy sighed.

Okay, so yeah, it had been because of Howie and Maddie that he and Evan had gotten back together…but it was because of them talking things out that they had finally decided that it was worth it.

Still, as he angled the chopper towards the direction of the hospital he thought about what Sal had been trying to say to him the entire shift—and he hated to admit it, but the man was right. He missed Evan because he was in love with him, and that wasn’t a bad thing. Hell, it was practically expected at this point in their relationship.

Tommy continued to think on it as they dropped off the injured hiker…

…and then as they landed back at the 217, he reluctantly said to Sal over the headset, “Okay, maybe you’re right.”

His friend shot him a far too smug look, and the airman was already regretting his words, especially when the other man said as they sauntered back to the main hangar, “Oh, I want that put onto a t-shirt! ‘Tommy Kinard says that Sal Deluca was right!’ This is a pretty damn good feeling! So…you’re gonna text him, right?” he prodded, and Tommy nodded and reached for his phone, feeling a small sense of relief as he saw the picture of his boyfriend smiling on his lock screen.

He smiled down at it and then swiped his phone open…where Evan was the background, and he continued to smile.

Sal playfully shoved at his shoulder with his own, saying, “Someone’s in lo-ove,” and Tommy shoved him right back, pleased when the other man stumbled.

Hesitantly, he brought up their texts and then stared at them for a moment or two, trying to get up the courage to message him first, noting that their last conversation had been about the shopping list for the cookies that Tommy had baked for the 118.

He stop midstride and stared at it…and then began to type…

--

“He’s bubbling me!” Buck said, staring at his phone in shock. He had finally caved and reached for his phone to text his boyfriend, only to see those little bubbles telling him that Tommy was texting him first.

“Yipee,” Eddie said dryly from the corner of the pool table, looking at it with a curious expression, as if expecting it to rearrange the balls for him so that he would have a better shot.

Buck ignored him and continued to stare at his screen, waiting for the message to show up—and then grinned when the words that popped up said, Hey, thinking about you. Sorry we have to spend so many days apart, babe, and he couldn’t help but feel lucky to have someone in his life who understood just how hard it was for him to be apart from the people he loved for long amounts of time, and he immediately texted back, Thinking about you, too. Miss you, along with a kissy face emoji.

Feeling reassured, he slid his phone back into his pocket and turned his attention back to the game and teased, “You gonna take your shot or what, Diaz?” and Eddie gave him a bitch-face and leaned against his pool stick and said, “Gimme a minute! Your last shot fucked me up…”

Buck rolled his eyes.

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic! Just take the shot!”

“Well, looks like someone’s in a better mood,” his friend muttered as he bent over and took the shot, letting out another curse when the ball bounced off a bumper and went wide, setting it up perfectly for Buck’s next shot, and he grinned and set it…and in three moves he had finished the game.

Eddie pretended to be annoyed with him, but he was smiling as he said, “So, think you can manage a few more days without him?” and Buck shrugged and said, “I guess so, yeah. I just…I sleep better with him next to me, you know?” and his friend tilted his head and remarked, “Yeah, I guess I can understand that. I remember it was hard for a while after I was deployed to sleep without Shannon next to me, so I get it,” and patted his shoulder.

Buck nodded and turned back to the pool table.

“Wanna go again?”

Eddie smirked.

“Bring it on, lover boy.”

Buck scoffed and said, “Oh, c’mon, I’m not that whipped, am I?” and Eddie lifted an eyebrow and said, “Yeah, you kinda are, but that’s okay. By the way,” he said as he moved around to the other side of the table, “Are you even living at your apartment anymore? Why don’t you just move into his place?” and his heart skipped a beat.

Yeah, okay, he’d thought about it, but it was too soon, and he knew it—he had jumped the gun last time, he wasn’t going to do that again.

“Uh, I still have my lease,” he finally replied, avoiding eye contact, focusing on re-racking the balls for their next game. He didn’t have to look up to know that his friend was giving him a side eye…but Eddie said nothing, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Just three more days.

--

It was three days of torture and the shift from hell, and Tommy couldn’t quite believe that he had managed to survive. Letting out a sigh of relief, he dropped his bag as soon as he stepped inside his front door and kicked his shoes off and tossed his jacket to the side, uncaring of where anything landed…

…and then the next thing he knew, he had his arms full of his boyfriend, who immediately buried his head in his neck.

“God, I missed you,” Evan said, his voice slightly muffled from where it was pressed into his collarbone, and the airman chuckled and wrapped his arms tightly around him and said softly, “I missed you, too, babe,” and pressed a kiss to his damp curls, which told him that Evan had just gotten out of the shower. He took a deep breath, smelling his own soap on his skin, a blend of cedarwood and spearmint, and then nuzzled his nose into his hair, letting out a sigh.

Evan practically melted into him, and the feeling of his body pressed up against his was the best thing he had felt in a long time, having been spending far too much time dealing with Lucy and Sal on either side of him, their presence welcome, but not the same as the man he loved.

“As much as I love this, babe, can we move to the couch? I am beat,” Tommy muttered, and his boyfriend nodded.

Not quite letting go of each other, they made their way to the living room and then promptly crashed onto the couch, Buck laying out flat with Tommy on top of him—

—and god was that nice.

With all of his previous ‘relationships’ he had always been the big spoon because of his height and broad build…but with Evan he was able to relax into another broad chest without having to worry that he was going to crush him.

They lay there for a long while, not saying a single thing, Evan’s fingers carding through his hair, the sensation soft and lulling him into an almost sleep…but then through the haze of exhaustion, he heard him ask, “Am I…am I too clingy for you?” and Tommy snorted and said, “Nope, not at all. Actually, Sal and I talked today, and he says that I’m the clingy one of the two of us,” and he felt a chuckle run through his boyfriend’s chest as he said, “Funny enough, Eddie said the same thing about me…”

He grinned and rubbed his hand over Evan’s side, enjoying every single second of being able to touch him, and softly added, “Well, it seems to be working for us, so I say we keep on doing it.”

Buck chuckled a second time.

“I like that idea.”

He then tucked a finger under the airman’s chin and lifted his head just enough to press a kiss to his lips and Tommy moaned into the kiss and then said as they both pulled back from it, “I’ve never been happier to have a clingy boyfriend,” and Evan gave him a look.

“Damn straight.”

“Damn…gay, actually,” he teased, and was thrilled when his boyfriend groaned and rolled his eyes and said, “Oh, god, I forgot how bad your jokes are.”

“Excuse you, but I am hilarious,” Tommy retorted, lifting himself up slightly to rest his hands on Evan’s chest and prop his chin on top of his clasped hands. “You just don’t appreciate my brand of humor, Evan.”

They shared a look, both of them trying to stare down the other—and then they both broke into giggles, both of them sounding almost manic with the way their giggles dissolved into breathless gulps of laughter, neither of them able to contain themselves. Tommy knew that part of the reason why he was acting so ridiculous was because he always acted punch drunk when he was this tired, and he knew that Evan was just naturally that amused at him.

Eventually it subsided and they rested quietly against each other once more…

…and then Evan said, “I like it when you’re clingy,” and Tommy whispered back, “I like when you’re clingy, too…”

A warm silence fell, and as they lay there the stray thought entered the airman’s mind that Evan always felt like home to him, and that he spent more time at his place than back at his own apartment. Even though it felt too soon, he wanted him to move in…but not yet. It could wait a bit longer, he mused as his felt his boyfriend’s fingers tracing along his spine.

Yeah.

It could wait a bit longer.

[slayfics]

Explosive Tendencies a slow burn fan fiction about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.

Chapter Twenty: Planning for the School Festival.

Chapter links

After Mina dragged you out of Katsuki's room and forced you into what she called "girl's study night" a screaming match ensued between you and her.

She insisted you explain why you went "crawling back" to Katsuki when he didn't even apologize.

You kept telling her that's not how things happened, but she wasn't satisfied. To be fair you weren't giving her the whole story. But- how could you?

Katsuki had come to you confidently to vent about the guilt he had been carrying around due to All Might losing his power. Katsuki assumed it was all his fault for getting kidnapped and had been carrying that weight around all this time.

You weren't about to break his trust and out his vulnerability to all the girls in the class.

Why couldn't Mina just trust you had a good reason to be friends with him again?

"Listen, I get you have a big crush on him but- that doesn't make it ok for you to let him treat you like garbage!" Mina yelled. You felt your face become hot as the rest of the girl's mouths had dropped open. What happened to Mina waiting for you to be ready to say that? This fight was really all it took for her to expose you in front of the rest of the girls? You felt your hands begin to shake with anger.

"I don't know why you're so invested in this Ashido! Is it because you're jealous?! You're the one who's been obsessed with who likes who and going around saying you want to fall in love someday! Why do you even care what I do? It doesn't concern you!" You yelled

Mina stood stunned by your words for a moment before defeatedly exclaiming, "You're right- it doesn't concern me," and walking away.

You two hadn't talked since.

She kept her distance from you in classes and training, and in the common room you could feel her staring daggers at you any time you were near Katsuki.

You tried to brush it off and stay focused on your work, but it became increasingly annoying to feel her negative energy around you every day.

The next day in class Aizawa announced that the School Festival would be occurring as it does every year, and your class needed to choose an event to put on.

The class erupted with ideas and arguments about ideas that never reached a conclusion. Aizawa had told your class that if you didn't have an idea by morning you would be going with his idea of a public lecture.

After class, almost everyone hung around in the common room to discuss ideas. Katsuki walked past everyone discussing and said he was going to sleep.

You looked around and made eye contact with Mina who was giving you a nasty glare. You let out a sigh and followed after Katsuki.

"Tch- following me?" he asked as you stepped into the elevator with him.

"I'm not trying to stay down here with Ashido giving me side eye all night. Besides you heard them in class. They didn't care for our ideas anyway," You responded as Katsuki pressed the elevator button to the fourth floor.

Katsuki grunted in agreement. "Whatever they choose is going to be lame as hell anyway, and I don't give a fuck. I've got enough to deal with from the supplement classes for the provisional license," he said as you both made your way into his dorm.

He sat on his bed, and you sat on his rolling chair.

"How have those been anyway?" You asked, trying to keep the worry out of your voice. You knew it had to be a lot, juggling those classes on top of everything else in the hero courses at U.A. 

"I'm fine- you don't need to ask," Katsuki said then looked away from you glaring at the floor as he contemplated. " You and Raccoon Eyes still haven't talked since that day?" he asked.

Katsuki wasn't dumb, he knew Mina was upset at you because from her perspective it looked like he had ignored you for three days then seemingly came back with no explanation. He knew you didn't tell Mina the truth- how he had cried like a damn baby to you that night shortly after his fight with Deku. He was grateful you didn't- but also felt guilty for putting a wedge in your friendship with Mina.

"No," you answered. "But I don't give a damn, she's just an extra anyway, right?" You teased.

Katsuki let out an amused huff. He knew you were lying. Of course, you cared. He noticed Mina was the only other person in the class you had gotten close to besides him and Eijiro.

"Yeah," he said still staring at the floor. If he could have, he would have thanked you for keeping his privacy and he would have apologized for rupturing your friendship, but... he just couldn't. So instead- "You want to get working on one of the dumb assignments we have due soon?"

"Yeah," You smiled at him excited for the invitation to work with him.

Katsuki glanced at your smile before making his way to grab his study materials. You were always so happy to be around him even when he knew he had to be a miserable company. It didn't make sense to him- but... he didn't hate it.

You two worked on your assignment until Katsuki declared it was getting too late. You looked at your phone and rolled your eyes.

"Still on grandpa time, huh?" you teased.

"Hey! I have a good sleep schedule and I need it with all this extra work alright!" He barked.

"I know I know- I'm just messing with you," you said and began to pack up your study supplies.

Katsuki eyed you putting your stuff away for a moment and then laid down on his bed stretching out.

You swung your backpack on your back, "Get some rest then Grandpa," you said playfully at him.

"Hm?" He said eyeing you. "You- don't have to leave," he said.

You froze and stared at him, returning his gaze. He was asking you to stay?

You dropped your backpack and sat back down on his rolling chair eyeing him curiously.

"You comfortable over there?" He asked.

"Uh-," You mumbled unsure of how to answer. You were unsure what he was trying to get at?

"You fell asleep over here before brat- you can make yourself more comfortable," he said in response to your quizzical look.

You felt your breath catch in your throat. Was he asking you to join him on the bed?

You moved slowly as you sat on the bed awkwardly.

Katsuki scoffed, "So- what stupid event do you think those extras are going to choose?"

"No idea- but if they choose Kaminari's maid cafe, I will be murdering someone," You responded laughing.

"Hm- too bad you wouldn't look bad in a maid outfit," Katsuki said laughing.

A bright blush illuminated your face.

"Oh shit- relax I'm just kidding, no need to turn into a damn tomato," he said laughing again.

You tried to brush off your reaction and turned away to hide your face. "Hey- you sure you want me in here much longer?" You asked.

"The hell do you mean? Would have told you to get the fuck out if I didn't," Katsuki said.

"It's just- I don't know- I'm sure you heard."

"Heard what?" He asked.

"Some of those rumors that spread around when Ashido pulled that stunt and dragged me out of your room when I tried to hide from her in the restroom," You explained After that night when the boys had seen your fight with Ashido, someone had run with some assumptions of why you were hiding in Katsuki's room.

"Oh," Katsuki exclaimed now understanding. "Look you can go if you want. Those extras are nosy as hell and need to mind their damn business. But- I don't give a damn about what any of them have to say so-," Katsuki said.

He was never good at words, so he couldn't just simply say he liked your company and didn't want you to leave. Especially now that you brought up those rumors he heard. He didn't want to feel like he was forcing you to stay.

"Just go if you're uncomfortable," He concluded.

"No! I- I don't care either... I just- whatever it doesn't matter," you said deciding to leave the conversation alone.

To Katsuki's surprise, you laid down next to him, "Ok- so who had the worst idea of an event?" You asked.

Katsuki let out an amused laugh, "Iida, who the fuck would come to a history lesson?!"

You laughed at his response, and the two of you talked until you had both dosed off into sleep.

Tags: @anon-mouse223 @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @sikuthealien @queenpiranhadon @melrs21 @poemzcheng @kazuumii @bakunianadecorazon @ur-crusty-uncle @reads-stuff-quietly @chixkadee @perfectsukii @faetoraa @fem-weeb @nagicats @lees-chaotic-brain @maelibo

Just wanted to thank you all for reading and update you that there are 4 more chapters left!

[givethemsmut]

Cody Rhodes x Reader

Made of Gold | Chapter Four

Trigger Warning

- Mention of abortion (not how you think, prob why I hate to give trigger warnings)

C O D Y ‘ S P O V

I was riding the high of being the first man between her legs, still wearing her orgasm on my cock when I yanked the door open enough to see who was standing there.

A middle aged man stood there, dark wild eyes, when his shrill voice hit my eardrums. “Where is my daughter? I know she’s here.”

Barging past the door I gripped the blanket hanging low on my waist, securing it from exposing myself. I was in a state of shock and the urge to fight ignited from the bottom of me like a brush fire. “Excuse me?”

Stepping toe-to-toe with me, whiskey on his breath, “Don’t play dumb. I know she’s been hiding out here. I’ll find her myself.”

He went to move past me but I side stepped, blocking him from the stairs altogether. “I was trying to be nice but I guess you’re picking the hard way. I wouldn’t step another foot inside my house, you might see something you don’t wanna see like your daughter in bed.”

“She’s under age,” his finger dug into my chest and my hand closed into a tight fist. I wanted to lash out but he had a point.

“And ruin the most important night of her life so far? I’m not naked for the fun of it, pal. You are the last person she wants to see after losing her virginity.” My words were sharp, heavy, assaulting the way I meant them to be.

Her father looked up at me as I took another step, towering over him now, “I want her home before I press charges for kidnapping.”

“Family dinner sounds great. How about Friday at your place?” I smirked knowing I won and her father did in fact hate me the way she wanted. I was a family’s dream unless you’re a few months shy of eighteen and a virgin than I’m considered a nightmare.

Heading upstairs I took two at a time and without even making it past the threshold I heard the light sound of her snoring. Wrapped in a blanket that covered only her boobs and pussy she was curled up on her side fast asleep. Exhaling I could sleep easy know she didn’t hear a single part of that chat.

Now I had to convince her to go dinner with people she had been avoiding. People who didn’t make her feel safe or happy.

Hell, I even hated them and I didn’t know them.

I wanted to protect her, keep her from every ounce of harm and I didn’t care how fucking wrong it is that I’m older than her. Age was bullshit concept when we fit together like we did twenty minuets ago before her dad stormed my house like a maniac.

The next morning we fell into our routine of me working out before she woke up and her joining me in the shower. She was washing the shampoo out of her long hair while I scrapped soap around my muscles. “I want to meet your parents…”

She turned out with a hostile look on her face, “Why?”

“You know so much about my family, my dad, my brother and sister. Hell, last time I FaceTimed my mom she wanted to talk to you but I don’t know much about your family.”

We swapped spots under the water and I could feel her resentment on the topic. “They aren’t like your family. There’s not enough good to even tell you about. Let’s just drop it.”

Exhaling I let the water beat on my face, swiping it off, I pushed. “Please. Just call them. Let’s do dinner on Friday.”

“Cody. Why are pushing this? Do you regret what we did and this is your way of pushing me away?”

Fuck.

I had pushed and now she created some monster of an idea why.

Turning around I dragged her close, holding her against me, her perfect ass wedged against me. “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t regret anything. Your dad showed up last night… he’s gonna press charges unless we go to dinner Friday.”

Pushing me away in anger, she shout, “Are you fucking serious?”

Before I could even answer, she had exited the shower, grabbed a towel and slammed the bathroom door. It was our first fight.

Giving her space, I showered like normal and wrapped a towel around my waist all too similarly to last night when her dad showed up. Leaning against the door frame of the bathroom I watched her franticly get her makeup on.

“Babe. I didn’t wanna have to tell you he showed up.”

“You want to meet them so badly then let’s go to dinner tonight. I’m not doing anything on his terms, why, so he can be in control? I don’t think so. Get eady for all your demons to served up with dinner.” Texting furiously, her fingers clicked against every button, before dropping it in her lap.

Moving closer, standing behind her, I softened my face even more. “Just talk to me. I wasn’t going to let him storm our fucking room and harass you ten seconds after losing your virginity. This was settling, a family dinner.”

“You don’t know him. That’s not settling, it’s what he wants and probably to ruin us.” She was still running hot when I gave her space, letting her decompress while I occupied another part of the house. If dinner was all we had to do to make them leave us alone I was willing to do it. I was willing to do a whole hell of a lot more actually.

R E A D E R S P O V

Did I want to be drunk for family dinner? Absolutely. I knew exactly the kind of tactics that would be weaponized for not coming home then to be found with Cody, someone older and not of my father's choosing.

It made our love story seem like a tragedy, the forbidden, albeit taboo relationship when Cody was so much more than that.

He felt safe, something I haven't truly felt since I got old enough to talk back.

My father didn't have expecatations - he had demands and when those demands weren't met, well, than he had retalation. It wasn't a dynamic I wanted Cody to witness and think of our age difference even more.

Doning a simple black maxi dress with an open back and a pair of comfortable heels I finished smearing my lipstick in while Cody changed his tie for the millionth time. He was nervous and I didn't want to make it worse for him.

Taking my hand, wordlessly, I stood up and took the lead down the stairs. "We should do a shot before we go. We both need it," I suggested it but knew my tumblr was already coated in whiskey I had been drinking.

"Maybe you had enough babe."

Disregarding him entirely I poured two healthy shots of Wheatley Vodka and pushed the shotglass towards him. "I don't want you to get in trouble when I pushed you to take my virginity... that's the only reason I am doing this."

Not yet shooting his back he came closer, hands hoovering and his face full of concern. "Just tell me what I need to know before we go over there. Why are you scared of your father? That’s not normal.”

My eyes started to well up rapidly and I kept looking up, avoiding eye contact and the unavoidable tears ruining my makeup. It was too much to explain, too much to live through again as I explained it and the way I knew he could judge me felt like a deathwish on us.

"Let's just go,” I mumbled before downing another shot.

Cody opened every door until I was safely tucked inside his car, foot pressed down on the gas in his truck that felt more like a tank. Sitting back with one hand on the wheel I could feel his eyes glance over at me. His vest tight to his frame and the white button up with the subtle tie only made him look more like a dirty secret. His features were haunting and his toned body only made the threat to devour you seem so much more real. Everything about him scream predator yet all of him was nice enough to care.

“It sounds silly saying it out loud… Every boyfriend I had he would blackmail into dumping me, every friendship ruined, every chance he had to isolate me he did. Controlling, overbearing, abusive. I remember he drugged me just to keep me home after I vanished for a week. I was at Layla’s but it didn’t matter, no permission, no warning was all it took to earn his wrath. I’ve been at your house for much longer, wonder what kind of punishment it will be this time.”

His hand shook my leg like he wanted to wake me up, “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Do you know how hard it was to not hurt him when he showed up? Hurt him for just wanting to drag you away from me.”

Forcing myself to relax, I tried to melt into his touch, keeping my mouth closed and wishing I was more drunk.

By the time we got past the gate that protected their castle I felt my heart pick up speed. I wanted to burn the whole place to the ground and hope the memories went with it.

Taking his hand, I followed his lead, knocking at the door like a gentleman. The door flew open and my mother presented her best rendition of perfect housewife. “Come in, you must be her friend, Cody, right?”

“Yes, ma’am, Cody Runnels.”

She nudged me out, leading him inside and leaving me by the door like discarded trash.

Not bothering to pick up the pace to catch up I strutted behind them, watching her try to dazzle him the way I expected. “Tell me about yourself. Come have a seat.”

“I’m a legacy wrestler, I wrestle for WWE now, I grew up here, my father passed away last year, and I’m falling in love with your daughter.” He sounded so sure and I felt hit by his confession like a ton of bricks.

He falling for me? Did I even want that?

I wanted him to take my virginity so badly I had thought of what I wanted next.

I whispered a warning cry, “Cody…”

His 1000 watt smile flashed in my direction as his hand came up my leg. “We can talk about it later.”

Feeling the air sucked out of the room my father’s signature glass of ice and scotch pierced my ears. “Falling for my daughter? Does she know all the skeletons in your closet, son? No woman should fall for just the good version. They have to love the bad too.”

My mom placed the last dish down on the table and sat down with us when my eyes tried to beg her to hold him off but it was no use. She was brainwashed by the good life and ruining that was never going to happen.

“Everyone had demons, sir.” Cody wasn’t afraid and the puddle in my panties now was distracting. “Like tracking your daughter to my house after losing her virginity? Storming my stairs trying to ruin that moment? Like those kind of demons.”

“Watch your mouth, son. I did some digging on you. Don’t forget you’ve lived a lot of life that my daughter hasn’t at seventeen.” He paused dramatically and Cody goated him to continue. “There’s been a long string of woman, hasn’t there? A few virgins, a few abortions, a dropped compliant after a bar fight with a female. Sounds like you can’t treat woman well so you imagine my surprise when you say you plan to love her.”

Cody shifted in his seat but still not scared of my father the way I was taught. “I can’t warrant any response to that. I’ve been with virgins when I was younger, of course. Are you implying I can tell by glancing at them? Absurd.”

Sipping his scotch until the end, my mom bounced up to get him a refill. “No, son, I’m saying you have a habit of liking young woman who are guaranteed virgins.”

Cody shot up from his seat, “We’re leaving. Come on.”

Dragging me behind him to the door my father matched his energy. Standing with a new glass, shouting after us, “She’s still seventeen, son. That’s still against the law.”

Stopping at the door, he swiftly turned around, taking the steps to stand toe-to-toe with my father. “I already took her virginity, cats out of the bag, she’s eighteen soon and you can’t do anything about it.”

“Son, she’ll get bored of the thrill of you like she always does. This is just a long string of bad behavior to piss me off.”

“Trust me, sir, no one was thinking of you while she was screaming my name.” Cody stood there proudly of those details and I could feel my cheeks flare up red.

“Least wear a condom son, she doesn’t need to be one of those girls you paid to have an abortion,” my dad shouted after us as Cody yanked the door open and the cool night air felt like new oxygen to our lungs.

Neither of us had talked about skeletons, neither of us shared the uncomfortable traits we carried, not yet.

Climbing into the truck Cody nearly did a burn out in the driveway before leaving, scaring their perfect castle. “I didn’t pay anyone to get an abortion. Let’s make that clear. I helped pay for a mutual solution.”

Every part of him was tense, even the muscles around his perfectly chiseled jaw. “Okay, how many?”

“Two.”

Keeping my voice just above a whisper I watched his hands grip the steering wheel hard, “I didn’t expect to be the only virgin, Cody. No one is questioning you. Everyone has a past.”

“He’s trying to imply I seek out fucking virgins. You’ve seen my dick, do you think I need virgins to get off? I didn’t even want to hurt you last night.”

“Cody,” I said sternly trying to keep last night out of my mind because every time I thought of it I got goosebumps and the space between my legs would ache for more.

Glancing over at me he caught me lightly rubbing my legs together and biting my lip. “Oh, shit, babe. You’re still riding that high.”

I felt like I could come just thinking about his cock, about being inside me, feeling those memories wash over me like I was there again. My legs started shaking a little and I tried to compose myself in the passenger seat.

Requested Tags:

@alyyaanna

[thornsnvultures]

bucky barnes x plus size!fem!reader

cw: smut (18+ minors dni), thigh riding, breast play, fluff, <1k words

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"Honey, I'm home!"

You don't turn from your book, too determined to finish the page you're on before Bucky bogarts your free time. You swear sometimes he's more needy than his precious cat, but really you can't complain.

His keys land in the bowl by the front door as he toes off his heavy boots. You have about five seconds from when they hit the ground to wrap things up before you get a lap full of boyfriend.

"Whatcha readin'?"

You finish just in time, reading the last line of the chapter and shutting the book, flinging your arms open so Bucky can dramatically settle his weight on top of where you're laying on the couch. He always acts like he hasn't seen you in years even if it's only been a day or two, but you wouldn't want to stop being the person he clings to for anything.

"Buck," you laugh, slapping his shoulder as he nuzzles into your neck. "It's too hot, you gotta get up!"

He's blocking the fan you had oscillating next to you while you read and between his body heat and the lack of air flow it feels like the room temperature went up about twenty degrees.

Bucky peels himself off of you, hovering over you with his forearms and biceps bulging. Yeah, it's definitely hotter now that he's here.

Your thighs squeeze together as he takes in your "it's too ungodly hot today" outfit of a tank top and barely-there panties. It's not fair how good he looks, his shaggy hair falling in his face, a light sheen of sweat making him glow. Unlike you, glued to the sofa as you are, feeling sticky from the heat. And he's wearing jeans! It's a crime.

"The a/c still not working, beautiful?" Bucky takes your book and places it on the floor. His knee nudges is way into the space between your legs and you forget what he just asked you. His lips feel too good on your neck, why would anything else matter?

"Y'know you should just move in with me. I've got that fancy central air, keeps the whole apartment cool."

Bucky smiles against your sweat slick skin when you laugh again. Sometimes you forget he's from a different time until he says stuff like that, like it's this new fangled invention that'll rock my socks off.

"You're right," you gasp, his thigh grinding into your core. Your breath stutters when he licks a stripe up from between your breasts where your tank top has ridden down.

"Of course I'm right," Bucky captures your parted, gasping lips in a kiss. Your eyes flutter shut and you melt even further into him, letting your hips grind against his denim clad thigh.

"Please," you whine. It's too hot. The air, his body enveloping yours, your molten core soaking a wet spot into his jeans. All of it. It's too much.

Bucky grips your hip with one hand, digging into the cushion of your flesh so he can help you move faster, harder. You can feel his cock, hard and heavy, pressing against the bulging zipper at the front of his jeans. It digs into the space where your hip and mound meet, thrusting against you in a teasing approximation of what it feels like when he's inside you. Fucking hell, you need him inside you. But right now you need to come, you're so, so close. Your panties are pulled tight between your pussy lips, soaked and dragging against your puffy clit.

"Please, Bucky, pl-aah!"

You cry out, gripping Bucky's biceps to the point of pain as your body seizes.

"That's it. That's it, beautiful. Make a fuckin' mess for me. Come all over me, baby. That's it." Bucky doesn't let you go, his hand on your hip, working you through your orgasm as you slow and twitch under him.

He presses kisses down your cheek, your jaw, down to your breast where he sucks a sensitive, peaked nipple through your thin top. You whine and shudder again, his dick twitching against your thigh. He doesn't seem in a rush to take care of his situation, fully engrossed in circling your nipples with his tongue just to watch your squirm.

"Bucky, what--it's too hot," you whine, trying to push him off now that you're even more sweaty than before.

"Move in with me then," he tosses out before returning to your breasts, happily nibbling and sucking marks into your skin.

You run your fingers through his hair, tugging when he bites a little to hard. Not that you'd want him to stop, he knows your limits.

"I don't know, Bucky." Would you love this kind of treatment every day, all day? Hell yes. Is the idea of taking the next step with this man whose life is constantly on the line, whom you may or may not...love absolutely terrifying? Uh, duh.

"Think about it," Bucky stops his errant tongue for a moment to press a kiss to your forehead. He cradles your face in his big hand and it's so hard to not melt like ice cream. It's a lot, sharing a space with someone, being alone in his home while he's away. It would be your home too, hopefully. Would he let your bring all your plants? Would Alpine eat your plants?

"I'll think about it. I promise," you whisper as you turn your head in his hand to kiss his metal palm. It's surprisingly cool to the touch. "Is not fair you made me come like that before you asked me."

Bucky chuckles and kisses your forehead again before sliding down your body. He gives your thick thighs a squeeze and kisses your mound. Your pussy flutters, clenching and begging for his touch. Bucky inhales deep and smiles at you from between your thighs.

"Oh I'm not done convincing you yet, beautiful. I got a key in my pocket with your name on it."

---

--

-

🖤

[fushigurioo]

look after you - megumi fushiguro

Chapter 1 - Those eyes

cw: sexually suggestive (all characters aged up), breaking up, angst, crying, illness

WC: 2.4k

Return to masterlist

  -8 months ago-

  It happened very naturally, and rather fast, your relationship with Megumi Fushiguro. 

Your dorm rooms were almost next door to each other, separated only by Yuji Itadori in the middle, and you both found yourselves paying each other impromptu visits late at night when one of you couldn’t sleep. And each visit became ever so slightly more intimate than the last. Developing from a 10 minute chat across the room, to watching a movie together, to eventually sharing a bed together. Falling asleep on your respective sides and waking up spread out over each other, legs tangled together. 

You’d been friends for years prior, having both attended Jujutsu Tech together as students from 15, and now working here as fully fledged sorcerers in your early twenties. 

That one fateful night, you were sick. You had been hit with a terrible cold and you were simply miserable, tossing and turning but not being able to sleep because you couldn’t breathe out of your nose. 

“Goddammit, fuck.” Is what you muttered to yourself as you finally lost your own internal conflict. You were trying to stay clear of Megumi’s dorm, not only because you didn’t want him to catch your cold, but also because of the lingering feelings you had developed for him. I mean, it had only been one night, but damn you were trying to stay away. Each visit had the tension rapidly rising between you both. Something was bound to snap eventually.

You dragged yourself out of your bed, slipping on a pair of fuzzy socks and wrapping a fluffy blanket around yourself. Your hand hesitated slightly on your doorknob, but the longing to have your best friend next to you was a lot stronger than the warnings that your brain was screaming at you. Too late to go back now.

You inhale deeply (or, try to through your stuffy nose) and sigh aloud, before tapping on his door gently with the back of your fist. You grin to yourself as you hear his bed creak, before his quick footfalls toward the door. Simp.

“Y/n, where have you be - uhh…” Megumi stumbles over his own sentence, looking you up and down and furrowing his brows in confusion. “What’s with you? Why are you dressed like that?”

You look down at your chosen attire underneath the blanket that was draped around your shoulders. Lifting your head again to meet his questioning gaze, you raise a brow and open your blanket further, giving him a better view of what’s underneath. 

“What’s with you, Fushiguro? You never seen a girl in a Charmander onesie before? Are you gonna let me in or what, can’t you see I’m dying?” You question, clasping your hands together and raising them under your chin, looking up at him with your best puppy-dog eyes. 

Megumi tries his very best to ignore his increasing heart rate as he sighs, standing aside to let you in whilst rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. “Just get in here, dumbass.” He watches as you wander in, making your way over to his bed as though it was second nature to you. “And no, I’ve never seen a girl in a Charmander onesie before. Pikachu socks too? Gone all out for me, huh?” He teases, following you and flopping back down onto his bed beside you, resting his head on his hand and propping it up with his elbow, studying you intently. 

“Mmm, shut up, Megs.” You sigh, curling up contentedly, turning your back to him. “Sorry. Couldn’t tell if I can’t sleep because I can’t breathe properly, or if I’m codependent on you now… Hope you don’t mind.” You laugh nervously, trying to subtly initiate a conversation about just whatever the hell is going on with the two of you. Normal friends don’t do this. Right?

“Well…” Megumi starts, edging ever so slightly closer to you, “I’m not sick. And I couldn’t sleep either. Does that make me codependent?”

You tense as you feel a single index finger running from your shoulder, down your arm and back up again. Is he feeling the fluffy goodness of your Pokemon pyjamas?? Is he showing you physical affection? 

“Depends..” You start, deciding to take a leap of faith and one hell of a risk. “Would you miss me if I wasn’t here to share my disease with you?”

Megumi hums, raising even higher on his propped up elbow trying to catch the faintest glimpse of what your current expression is in the darkness of his dorm room. His heart is POUNDING in his chest, are you fucking with him? 

“Maybe… not your disease,” Megumi starts, slowly, trying not to let his speech tremble with nervousness. “But you? I guess so. And this?” He runs his hand down your arm again, lifting your wrist by your onesie and flopping your hand around like a puppet. “I suppose. I never thought Charmander could look so…”

“Pick your words wisely, Fushiguro!” You warn him teasingly. 

“Shh. Let me finish.” He retorts, snaking his arm over your shoulder and gently placing his hand over your mouth. “As I was saying,” he moves his hand upwards on your face, giving your cheeks a sweet little squeeze. “I never thought Charmander could look so.. pretty.” 

Your brain short circuits and your breath hitches in your throat. Pretty? You did NOT expect to hear that coming from Megumi’s mouth. Especially not this suddenly. 

You freeze, trying to gain composure, starting to splutter your words. “I… you think I- me?” 

“Mmmhm.” He cuts you off, snaking his arm around your middle and pulling you into him. Your back is right up against his front, and he leans over you from above, his face just mere inches from yours. “So yeah. I would miss you if you weren’t here to share your disease with me. Thought you wouldn’t come tonight. Didn’t like it.” 

He exhales and adjusts his body so his top is level with yours, and buries his face into your neck. “Missed you today.” His breath on your neck makes you shudder and giggle, your hand shooting up to lift his head up by his forehead, making him groan in response. 

“Stop. You’re warm.” He says, opening his eyes again and looking down to meet yours. His breath hitches in his throat. 

You’re looking up at him with wide eyes, the moonlight shining in through his window highlighting the subtle pink blush on your cheeks. He’s convinced he’s never seen anything more ethereal in his life than you in that very moment. As sick as you may be, with your hair scrunched up and sporting your Pokemon pyjamas, Megumi had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. 

He gazes into your eyes for a few more seconds, but it felt like forever to you. “Damn it..” He ends up muttering to himself, gritting his teeth and moving quickly, his body now hovering over you with his arms on either side of your head, caging you in. 

He gazes at you once again from above, as though you had hung the moon and the stars before he dips his dead and places a tender kiss to the side of your face, resting his forehead against yours. 

“Y/n,” he speaks gently, his breath tickling your cheek, before he presses another kiss to your face. “I’m sorry. If I’m wrong about this, you can laugh at me. You can ask me to leave you alone. But I need to know - do you… feel for me, the way I feel for you?” 

Your heart races once again, feeling like it’s going to burst through your ribcage at any given moment. You bring both of your hands up, one running through the messy hair at the back of his head and one cupping his cheek. You stay silent, looking into his eyes. 

“Just say it y/n. Tell me what you’re thinking.” He pleads, his face edging ever so slowly closer to yours. 

“I’m thinking,” you start, flashing him a bright smile. “That I should’ve stayed over in these pyjamas sooner. If this was all it took to get you to make a move, we could’ve done this ages ago.”

Megumi hums, giving you a soft grin before closing the gap between you both and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is tender, gentle. You smile against his lips and wrap both of your arms around his neck. He leans in impossibly closer, one arm holding himself above you and the other trails down your body to your hip, down to your thigh before hooking your leg around his waist and settling against your body. 

Megumi pulls away to catch his breath, but not before burying his head in your neck, peppering a bunch of gentle kisses against your sensitive skin, pulling the most adorable laugh from you. 

“So, just to be clear.. This means we’re.. together, right? Like - we’re a thing?” You probe, feeling your cheeks flush hot when you feel him chuckle into your neck. He lifts himself up again, head hovering above yours, midnight blue eyes staring into your soul. 

“Don’t be dense, y/n.” He presses another long kiss to your lips before pulling away again. “Of course we’re a thing. You’re mine, my girl. That is, if you want to be.”

You immediately pull him back down, gaining a slight growl from him as you kiss him feverishly, both of your tongues fighting for dominance after a moment. You feel him harden against your clothed core for a split second before he pulls back.

“Why’d you stop?” You whine, looking up at him with the same wide eyes that you know he folds for every.single.time. 

Megumi audibly moans out loud before lifting up again, fingers messily trying to pull at the zip to your Charmander onesie. “Please… get this damn thing off. I need you, Angel.” He growls. 

To say this was the most intense and intimate night of your life to date would be an understatement. You and Megumi gave each other your all, resulting in you both being each other's first sexual experiences. 

It was messy and (sorry Megumi) rather quick, but for the two of you, it was perfect. Because this was the very start of the relationship that you would treasure so dearly for the rest of your life. 

-Present day-

You’re standing facing the dorm room door, one hand on the handle, with your back to your boyfriend. Or should I say; now ex boyfriend. 

A single tear escapes, falling down your cheek. You bite your bottom lip in a weak attempt to stop your composure from snapping. You didn’t want him to see you like this, to give him the satisfaction. 

“I… I don’t want you to be upset…” He starts, his voice soft and strained. He runs a hand through his hair and glances down at his feet, his brows pinched together in frustration. “I just want the best for you, y/n. Can’t you see that? Our jobs are dangerous. I’m tired of having to deal with my own shit on top of having to worry about you, too. It’s been this way for a while and it’s just not… working… for me anymore.” 

His words pierce your heart like a knife. For a while???

Your lip trembles beyond your control as your entire relationship flashes before your eyes. From your arrival at Jujutsu Tech for your first year, to your close friendship, to your blossoming relationship. All those nights you spent together - they couldn’t all be for nothing, surely. 

You take a deep breath in, and exhale, trying to gather enough composure to ask one final question before you leave, before your emotions cave and you break down right in front of him. You turn around and face him entirely. “Is there someone else?”

His heart cracks at the question. How could you possibly ask something so.. - no. 

He was the one that just broke up with you out of the blue. Of course your mind is going to wander to the impossible. This was the inevitable truth that sadly, Megumi couldn’t come up with a way to avoid when he was planning this. 

“No, y/n. There isn’t anybody else. I just..” He’s no longer looking at you, instead he’s looking through you, trying not to take in your reaction. “I just don’t don’t love you anymore. I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything, you just… need a lot of reassurance. I guess I just fell out of love. I’m so-” 

“Stop.” You beg, the tears burning your eyes, threatening to spill. “Stop saying sorry. Just stop explaining. You’ve said enough, I hear you loud and clear. I’m sorry, I won’t bother you anymore.” You’re talking so fast you’re stumbling over your words. 

“Bye, Fushiguro.” You choke out, turning around and leaving through the dorm room door as quickly as you possibly could, sprinting past Yuji’s door and back to the privacy of your own room where you lock your door and throw yourself into your bed. 

Curling up into a foetal position and letting your tears flow freely, trying and failing to catch your breath, hyperventilating into your pillow. 

Megumi Fushiguro broke your heart that day. 

Megumi Fushiguro broke his promise to you, and himself, that day. That he would never make you cry.

There’s no way it can end like this. Right?

Wrong. It can, and it has. 

Megumi stares at his door for a minute after you leave, half hoping you’ll come back, but knowing deep in his heart that you won’t. 

After hearing your door slam, and internally cursing himself for a moment, he backs himself toward his bed, sitting on the edge and placing his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes hard. 

Once he opens his eyes again, he catches sight of something, something fluffy and orange folded up neatly at the bottom of his bed. 

Something that shatters his heart entirely. His breath is suddenly knocked out of him, and he’s doubled over the side of his bed, letting his tears fall into his hands. 

It was your Charmander onesie. 

“Dammit.” Megumi shouts to himself, throwing his phone across the room, gritting his teeth and pulling at his hair while tears fall freely down his cheeks.

What the hell has he done to you?

Note:

AAAAAAA!!! This is my first ever fully written fic - I'm so sorry about the angst loool I promise it will get better!

Sorry if it's a bit messy - I'm really not used to writing anything that isn't an SMAU heheh

If anyone's interested in being in a taglist for this fic, please do let me know and I'll create one <333

Much love and mwah!

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter: 05

<<previous chapter | next chapter>>

Masterlist

…

Five and I discussed our new plan on the way back to the academy.

“We need to go back, now.” Five insisted as he paced around his bedroom.

I stood by the door trying to distance myself from the angry teen.

“I know..” I pause. “But you already saw how demanding works. And also you're a kid, of course they didn't take you seriously.”

“Why is this eye so important anyway?” I ask.

He huffs. “Whoever has this eye brings upon the end of the world. I need to figure out who it is.”

Every time Five repeats that the world is ending I try to ignore it. But with the D-day getting closer and closer I realize I need to do a few things on my bucket list.

“We need someone else.” He mutters, breaking me out of my thoughts.

He's right, our story wasn't convincing at all. You need a strong narrative to get information out of suckers. So we need a dramatic person who can play a part.

Suddenly it dawned on me. We need-

..

“You know, I am so thrilled to join your guys' spy mission! It's just like old times.” Klaus reminisced with sappy tears in his eyes.

“I don't think we've ever done this.” Five retorts.

I know that the boy wasn't the most excited about getting help from Klaus but I told him if Klaus puts his mind to it, we're getting that information.

Five and I went over to the dining room where Klaus was snoring on the couch. In his underwear.

At first he wouldn't get up, that was until Five offered him twenty dollars and he bolted upstairs to get ready. We trailed after him back to Five’s room where he was waiting on Five's bed.

I love Klaus but his outfit choices have always been questionable even when we were teens.

“What are you wearing?” I asked disgustedly.

I did not receive an answer because Five heard a noise and peered his head out the door.

An annoyed look on his face appeared when he turned back around to us. “Vanya's here. Klaus hide.” He whispers.

Klaus gets up from the bed and dashes around the room, looking for anywhere that's big enough to fit his lanky body. I point to Five's closet.

He contorts himself to fit inside and closes the door behind him. Just in time too because Vanya walks into the room.

“Thank god, I was worried sick about you two.” She expressed her uneasiness.

I frowned. “Sorry, we left without saying goodbye.” If only I wasn't dragged by that little boy I would've loved to talk to her more.

“No look. I'm the one who should be sorry.” Vanya turns to Five. “Yeah, I was dismissive, and I– I guess I couldn't process what you were saying. And I still can't to be honest.” She stutters out.

I couldn't tell if it was an act but Five’s face turned almost sad. “Maybe you were right to be dismissive.” He says.

I'm not sure where this acting was when we were at Meritech. But I match his hurt look.

“Maybe it wasn't real after all. It felt real. Well like you said, the old man did say time travel could contaminate the mind.” Five continued.

Five is interrupted by a loud crash that comes from the closet. I ran over to stand in front of it trying to distract from the noises Klaus was making as they kept talking.

“Then maybe I'm not the right person for you to be talking to. Look, I used to see someone. A therapist, I could give you her information.” Vanya shares.

Five is quick to feign a smile. “No thanks, but I think I'm just going to get something to eat. It's been a long time since I've had good food.”

Vanya nods and steps back out of the room.

As soon as Five goes back to the door to make sure that she is gone, the warm look on his face disappears and his permanent scowl returns instead.

The closet behind me starts to shake and I take a step away hoping that Klaus doesn't decide to fall on me.

His curled body leaps out of the closet. “That was so… touching!” He trips over fallen junk from the closet. “All that stuff about family and Dad and time. Wow!”

“Will you shut up, she'll hear you.” He yells.

“I'm moist.”

“What the hell Klaus.” I scoot further away from him.

Five takes a moment to look him up and down. “I thought I told you to put on something professional.”

The outfit he put on was a green button-up shirt with frilly red-lined sleeves. Honestly atrocious.

“What? This is my nicest outfit.” Klaus cries.

“Let's go look at the old man's closet,” I suggest pushing Klaus out of the room.

Five groans before following us out.

“As long as I get paid,” Klaus exclaims.

“When the job is done.”

He stops us. “Okay, but just so we're clear on the finer details. I just gotta go into this place and pretend to be your dear old Dad. Correct?”

“Yeah, something like that,” I replied.

“What's our cover story then?”

“What? What are you talking about?” Five gives him a puzzled look.

“I mean, was I really young when I had y/n? Like, 16? Like, young and terribly misguided. Then yada yada some years later you came along, Five.” Klaus rambles putting his hands on his chest.

“Sure.”

“Your mother, that slut.. whoever she was. We met at.. oh! The disco.”

I cackle at Klaus’s backstory but Five couldn't look more concerned.

“Remember that.” The man snaps. “Oh, my god, the sex was amazinggg.”

“What a disturbing glimpse into that thing you call a brain.” Five turns to go down the stairs.

Klaus holds out his pointer like a stern dad. “Don't make me put you into time out.” He yells.

..

“Like I said to your son and daughter?” The same doctor questions us from before.

We arrived at the same part of the building but this time the man had the decency to bring us to his office.

“Yes, these are my children,” Klaus replies affirmatively.

He now had on one of Reginald's many suits; it made him look the part.

“Yeah, can't you tell?” My hand messaging my temple as I throw that in, trying to mask my sarcasm, cause well none of us looked alike.

“Well, like I told your children earlier, any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential.” The man emphasizes each word to us like we are all babies.

Klaus sat in a chair across from the man's desk and I sat in the other, but Five stood up in the middle of us with his hands on the doctor's glass desk. Getting ready for round two of his yelling match.

“Without the client's consent. I simply can't help you.”

“Well, we can't get consent if you don't give us a name.” Five yells.

The doctor looks defeated. “Well, that's not my problem.”

I’m sure Five wished his powers were laser eyes instead of teleportation because of how he was staring at the man so intensely.

“Sorry. Now, there's really nothing more I can do, so–”

Klaus looked up from his lap. “And what about my consent?”

“Excuse me?”

Everyone turns to look at him.

“Who gave you permission… to lay your hands on my son?” Klaus cried.

“What?” Five, the doctor and I all say at once.

“You heard me.”

“I didn't touch your son.” The man states matter of factly.

Klaus slowly gets up from his chair “Oh, really? Well, how did he get that swollen lip then?”

“He doesn't have a swollen-”

The man didn't have time to finish his sentence because Klaus suddenly swung at Five and slapped him in the mouth.

I hide my expression with my palm and watch.

He inhales sharply. “I want it. Name, please. Now.” He slaps his hands onto the doctor's desk.

The man stutters trying to think of something to say. “You're crazy.” He replies.

Klaus fakes a chuckle. “You got no idea.”

He picks up the snow globe on the man's desk. “Peace on earth? That's so sweet.” He reads out loud.

He then smashes the snow globe into his head causing everyone to let out a shriek as it breaks into tiny pieces. I cringe looking at all that blood on his head.

He screams out. “God that hurt.” Water from the snow globe dripped all over his face.

The man doesn't break eye contact with Klaus but hurryingly reaches for the telephone on his desk.

“I'm calling secur– what are you doing?” The man yells out but Klaus takes the telephone right from his sweaty hands.

“There's been an assault… in Mr. Big's office, and we need security, now. Schnell!” Klaus screams into the telephone before slamming it back onto its post.

He sighs. “Now, here's what's gonna happen, Grant.”

“It's… Lance.”

“In about sixty seconds two security guards are gonna burst through that door, and they're gonna see a whole lot of blood and wonder ‘What the hell happened?’ And we're gonna tell them that you… beat the shit out of us!” Klaus rambles.

“While making googly eyes at my young daughter!” He sobs.

Five stares at Klaus admirably.

“You're gonna do great in prison, Grant. Trust me, I've been there. A little piece of chicken like you. Oh my god, you're gonna get passed around like a…” He moves his hips in a circle to make a point.

Then shutters thinking back at old memories. “You're just– you're gonna do great. That's all I'm saying.”

Lance almost cries out looking at all of us. “Jesus, you are a real sick bastard.”

Klaus stares at him blankly. “Thank you.”

He spits out a piece of snow globe glass. The look on Five face is priceless, I'm for one so proud of Klaus right now. He never went Broadway but this was pretty close.

Lance rushes over to a long line of filing cabinets. Searching for the information that will satisfy us. Klaus sat on top of the cabinet making the doctor go even faster, fearing for his life.

“Oh, that's strange.” He says.

“What.” Five ask.

“Uh, the eye. It hasn't been purchased by a client yet.”

Klaus jumps off the cabinet and gets up into Lance's face. “What? What do you mean?” He whispers.

“Well, uh, our logs say that the eye with that serial number… This can't be right. It hasn't even been manufactured yet.” Lance looks up at Five. “Where did you get that eye?”

Five huffs. He walks away from all of us to the elevator and leaves us with Lance.

I grab onto Klaus to move him outside as he blows Lance a smooch before we go into the elevator as well.

We walk out of the building's doors when Five starts to talk again. “Well, this is not good.” He says.

“I was pretty good, though, right? ‘Yeah. What about my consent, bitch?” He laughs.

“Klaus, it doesn't matter.” The boy sighs and we stop walking.

“What? What, what's the big deal with this eye, anyways?” The hurt Klaus asks.

I grab onto the two men to heal them of their injuries before answering for Five who looks like he's about to explode.

“There's someone out there who's going to lose an eye in the next seven days. And they're gonna bring about the end of life on earth as we know it!” I say, rubbing my forehead.

“Yeah, can I get that twenty bucks, like, now, or what?”

I stare at my adopted brother with my brows furrowed. “You're not gonna question what I just said, at all?”

Five steps closer to him. “The apocalypse is coming and all you can think about is getting high?”

“Well, I'm also quite hungry. Tummies a rumblin.” Klaus wiggles his fingers to imitate grumbling.

“You're useless.” Five shakes his head while walking away from the two of us to sit on the building's steps.

“Oh come on, you need to lighten up old man!” Klaus mocks. I move from Klaus to sit near Five and listen to the rest of Klaus’s spiel.

“Hey, you know, I’ve just now realized why you're so uptight. You must be horny as hell!”

Klaus’s laughter is matched by my own as he sits next to us. “That’s not funny Klaus,” I reply still giggling. Five on the other hand wasn’t amused, he looked deep in thought not even staring in our direction.

“All those years by yourself, it's gotta screw with your head, being alone.”

Five concentration breaks, “well.” He starts. “I wasn't alone.” Klaus and I immediately go silent and stare at him.

“Spill,” I say.

“Her name was Delores. We were together for over thirty years.” The small bit of happiness on Five's face was very easy to see.

“Thirty years? Oh, wow!” Klaus chuckles. “God, the longest I've been with someone.. I didn't know for three weeks. And that's only because I was so tired from looking for a place to sleep.”

Klaus went on like that for a good five minutes rambling about his love life and how hard it was not having anywhere to stay. I yawned in desperate need of a break from whatever this was. And it looked like Five was ready to blink away.

I turned to him and signaled that we should leave by nudging my head to the busy road that was right in front of the building. He nods back at me.

“He did make the most fantastic osso buco, though. It was..”

Five takes hold of my sleeve and we blink from the steps into a taxi. “Don’t stop, just keep driving.” Five demands of the panicked driver.

“Hey! Where’d you guys go?” I hear Klaus yell as we drive past him. Five turns to the window and gives Klaus a wave that makes him instantly stand up and try to run over to us.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, what about my money?!” He shouts but we’re long gone by then. I would’ve felt bad if this wasn't so funny.

Five was bleak at times and angry, and a lot of other things but he had his fun moments. We missed a lot of time getting to know each other but, this made up for it.

“So where to now?” I ask.

“I am going to run, uh an errand. I'm dropping you off at the academy.”

“Sounds good to me.” I smile. I needed this break to rest today. It was exhausting. “Our adventures have been fun, we should do it again.”

He turns to me, “Oh yeah?”

I hum in response.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The sky turned a vibrant shade of dark blue by the time we reached a familiar street, we were almost at the academy. I kinda wanted to join Five on his errand but I didn't say anything.

I paid the taxi driver the spare tens in my pocket for not freaking out and reminded myself that I'd pay Klaus tomorrow too. And walked up to the doors of the Umbrella Academy.

“Goodnight Five!” I call out as I open the front door. But I walked in before hearing his response, only hearing the sound of the taxi driving away.

..

I found myself in a spot I always went to when I needed to escape my ‘father’. It was a storage closet-like room that had a tiny balcony where Ben and I would hang out in the late hours of the night.

But now I was by myself and Ben was nowhere to be found. So I lit a cigarette and stared at the night sky. It’s a bad habit that I picked up during all my time with Klaus, It did help me calm my nerves though.

“Y/n?”

I turned around to see Alison in the doorway. A frown was painted on her beautiful face.

“It's good to see you, I didn't expect you to still be here.” She expressed while sitting down next to me.

“Me neither but I had a busy day chasing around a fifty-something-year-old. Thought I'd stay just to see what else happened around here. Or the truth could be I just kinda missed it around here, I'm not sure.”

Alison nodded. “I'm glad you're here, we haven’t really talked at all I've just been so busy with trying to get in touch with Claire and-“

I briefly cut her off. “Yeah, is everything okay with that?”

“My ex-husband, Patrick is trying to make it seem like I don’t care about this court stuff. Since I'm missing a session of mandated therapy.” She huffs.

“Can I have a cigarette?”

I reached into my black jacket pocket and pulled out the pack. Half of it was already empty but I just bought it before I came here, I guess I need more.

“Wouldn't the court recognize that as like, certain circumstances?” I ask.

“Yes! That’s what I tried to tell him. But he won't listen at all.” Alison groaned, holding the now-lit cigarette.

I smirk. “He sounds like an ass.”

“You don’t even know,” we both shared a good laugh.

“But,” she says while laughing. “What’s been going on with you? I know that's very broad because we haven’t seen each other since my wedding but, have you been doing anything new?”

I look forward to the pitch-black sky. “Yeah uhm, not much,”

Alison thinks for a moment, “Oh! I know. Whatever happened to your boyfriend? The guy you brought to my wedding.”

I froze, my mouth slightly open and the cigarette I held between my lips fell to the balcony floor. “Oh him..”

“Did something happen Y/n?”

“No no, we just broke up I guess.”

Alison grabs onto my hand, squeezing me tightly. “I'm so sorry.” She says.

It’s not that I forgot about my ex, no I couldn’t. I just liked to pretend that he was a part of my childhood nothing more. But in reality, we only broke up about half a year ago.

“We didn’t have the best relationship,” I told her. “He wasn't the nicest guy but I stayed. We were on and off but I officially broke up with him a couple of months ago.”

She fiddled with her curly hair. “I would’ve never been able to tell, he just seemed so nice at the time. I thought you guys were the perfect match. Y/n I'm so sorry, forget I brought him up.”

“It’s okay, I mean you didn't know,” I reassured the woman.

“If you need anything I'm always here for you, you know? I don’t think we were ever the closet but. I'm here for you.” Alison states.

I wasn't sure how to respond, this was all so surreal. Telling someone how I felt was like a boulder being lifted off my chest. I was comfortable enough to do it again.

“Thank you, Alison, I appreciate you.” I grinned

“Miss Alison, are you up here?” Pogo's voice called out. The ape walked into the room as dapper as ever in his suit. “Ah, Miss Y/n you’re up here too good.”

“I was looking for you.” He said to Alison.

We quickly put out our cigarettes and turned our attention to Pogo.

“How did you, uh.. How’d you know I was up here?” She asked.

“Well it wasn't hard, this is where you two would always come when you were upset. I remember it, yes.” He nodded.

I didn’t know that Alison would come here too. All of our childhood I felt myself slightly put up against her when really we couldn’t be more alike.

“Who told you I was.. Luther.” She sighs.

“It was Miss Vanya. She called to make sure you were okay.”

“What happened?” I blurt out.

Alison stretches her legs by walking around the room. “I said some pretty

unkind things to her earlier.”

Pogo shook his head. “She’s your sister. She knows you didn't mean it.”

“Doubt it” Alison scoffs. “She doesn't know anything about me, which is fine because I don’t know shit about here either.”

That was the downside of all of us branching out, we never stayed in touch. If I had moved to a different state I would’ve never known how Klaus was doing and how I could help him. How different my life could’ve been, I mean what if I didn't come to the funeral? Life would’ve died without me having the slightest clue.

“Language”

Alison chuckles at his humor. “Sorry.”

Afraid of just sitting there, I cut into their conversation. “It has been a while since we’ve lived under the same roof, you know?”

They both agree with my sentiment.

“Almost thirteen years,” Pogo said

“Wow,” Alison and I both remark.

“How did you do it? Also in this big house for so long?” I ask.

“Well, one grows used to things, even if sometimes.. one shouldn’t.” He replies, the sadness evident in his voice.

I should’ve visited him, I'm an adult, Reginald can’t scare me anymore and no one was here. I was so close to them but still, I never wanted to come back without a reason. This place was my home for many years, yes, but it wasn’t my first home.

Pogo senses that we’re both down in the dumps. “You two should come with me. I want to show you something. It might just cheer you up,” he says.

..

We followed Pogo downstairs into one of the mansion's many rooms. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen this room before. The hallway was dark with only a few orange lights that barely helped see anything.

The tiny room was filled with rows of old TVs and controls with glowing buttons. Most of the tvs were black but there were a few Pogo must've turned on. Then he went into a box and pulled out a tape. He placed it into the TV closest to him.

The tape played old security camera recordings of us as kids, probably around thirteen from what we looked like. It would’ve been creepy if it didn't make me sad, these memories are some of the good times at the academy that I ignored because of all the bad.

Alison and I gawked at the footage. We sat in two chairs that were in front of the TVs as Pogo talked to us from behind. “Your father stopped recording years ago. But I still come here from time to time. When I'm missing you kids.” He said.

Alison was the first to speak. “Pogo, this is..” she sighs. “Most families have home movies to look back on. We have surveillance footage.”

“I hoped it might cheer you up.”

I laugh. “This definitely does.”

Previous to the new tape Pogo just put in, some of the other TVs had more footage. My eyes drifted from screen to screen soaking up all the cute moments.

“Oh my god look how little we were,” Alison tells me.

One screen was Alison and I in her room trying on Grace’s clothes. “Ohh, I remember this,” I said.

And Alison turns to see the one I'm looking at. “This was so fun! Mom always had the best clothes.” She exclaimed.

Grace's dresses were obviously too big for us, but that didn't stop us. Her clothes were modeled after old housewives of a different time and might look strange and out of date to others. But we loved them.

I moved to another screen of me, Ben and Klaus talking. We were sitting on one of the main staircases. I wish I could freeze time to that moment forever, just the three of us again.

Alison follows where my sad eyes are staring. “I miss him so much.” She said upsetly.

“Me too” I whisper.

The screen next to that was of Vanya, playing her violin alone. You could hear the sound of us children in the background and Alison’s voice while she played by herself. It was the heartbreaking reality of our childhood.

“Why didn't we include her? I mean if anyone ever treated Claire like that, I can’t even imagine.” Alison wonders.

“You were children, Miss Alison,” Pogo replies.

“Yeah.. but I'm not anymore and neither is she.”

Pogo straightens up like he’s getting ready to head out. “If you two aren’t in a hurry. There’s more tapes in that cabinet.” He nudges his head to a large cabinet overflowing with tapes with all different labels.

The man drops the key into my hand. “Make sure to lock up when you're done, things have been disappearing lately. These are too important to lose.”

I tell him I will and Pogo heads back out through the door. But before he leaves he gives us one more look. I turn back towards the screens and rethink back to those happier days.

Alison stands up to go over to the cabinet, she picks up a similar-looking tape. But above the box, there was a rusty tape. The label was gone and it looked scratched up.

“What’s that?” I ask. She opens it and slides it into a screen.

“I don’t know but I guess we're gonna see.” She hits rewind and it starts to buffer before playing. The video was harder to make out than all the other black-and-white films. Alison and I both leaned in and once my eyes focused it was clear what was going on.

“Oh god, Dad.”

…

Aug 14 update:

If you'd like to be added to the tag list for rest of the series (starts at chapter 10) say taglist in the comments!

[tojisprettylittlething]

Chapter Twenty Six: Jealousy is a Sharp Blade

Pairing: Assassin!Toji Fushiguro x Assassin!Reader

Warnings: Jealousy, possessiveness, tension, flirting, threats, and a whole lot of mutual territorial behavior.

Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You were expecting the neighbors.

So when you swung the door open, casually prepared to feign interest in whatever small talk they had in store, the last thing you anticipated was a man in a mask.

Black suit, gloves, silent as the night itself.

The air shifted instantly, your muscles tensing as the figure extended a single, pristine white envelope toward you.

Not a word.

Not a single breath of explanation.

Just an offering.

Your fingers hesitated before plucking it from his grasp.

By the time you glanced up, he was already walking away, disappearing down the dimly lit street without a sound.

You stepped back inside, shutting the door behind you, turning the envelope over in your fingers, feeling the thick weight of whatever message had just been delivered.

Toji was in the kitchen, cracking open a bottle of beer when you walked in, tossing the envelope onto the counter.

"That’s never a good sign." He eyed it, then you. "Who the fuck left that?"

"Some guy. Didn’t say a word. Just handed it to me and left."

Toji’s face darkened. He set his beer down with a soft clink before plucking up the envelope, ripping it open without a second thought.

Inside, there was nothing but an invitation.

Elegant, expensive cardstock, deep crimson wax seal pressing down a golden emblem.

A masquerade ball.

Hosted by a faction that—for once—wasn't actively trying to kill either of you.

Toji clicked his tongue. "Tch. Waste of time."

You arched a brow. "You scared, old man?"

His green eyes flicked to yours, unimpressed. "I just don’t see the point in putting on a fuckin’ mask when I can kill the same people without the theatrics."

"Well," you mused, plucking the invitation from his grip, "I think it sounds fun. Besides, when’s the last time we went out together? Properly?"

Toji scoffed. "Last week. We shot two guys and went to that ramen place after."

"That’s not a date, Toji."

"Was for me."

You rolled your eyes. "We’re going."

"And what if I say no?"

You smirked, tilting your head. "Then I’m going without you."

His jaw flexed. That possessive glint darkened in his gaze before he exhaled sharply through his nose.

"Fine."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Of all the things you thought you’d be doing today, dragging Toji through an upscale boutique definitely wasn’t on the list.

"The hell is this?" he grumbled, lifting a black velvet blazer as if it physically offended him.

"It’s called fashion, baby," you teased, flicking through racks of gowns. "Try it sometime."

He scowled. "Gonna be covered in blood by the end of the night anyway."

"Then at least bleed in style."

You could hear him muttering under his breath, but he still begrudgingly tried on the clothes you shoved into his arms.

You, on the other hand, had a more important mission—finding the perfect dress.

And oh, did you find one.

Deep, decadent black, smooth satin that cascaded over your curves, a slit up the thigh that was just the right amount of dangerous. It clung to you like it was made for you, and when you stepped out of the dressing room, Toji—who had been waiting by the counter, dressed in his tailored black suit—went still.

His gaze raked over you, dark, heavy.

"Shit." His voice was low. "You look like trouble."

You smirked. "You like it?"

Toji didn’t answer at first. He just stepped forward, fingers hooking around your waist, dragging you closer.

"Yeah," he murmured against your ear. "Too much."

Your lips curled. "Good."

The masks were the last touch.

Toji picked a sleek, black one with sharp angles, something that made him look even more dangerous than he already did.

Yours was more intricate—lace patterns, delicate silver filigree that glowed against your skin.

You caught him staring as you adjusted it in the mirror.

"You keep lookin’ at me like that, we’re not making it to the party."

His fingers flexed at his sides.

"Then hurry the fuck up before I change my mind."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The ballroom was a symphony of decadence.

Gold-trimmed chandeliers dripped from the ceiling, casting flickering shadows across the sea of masked figures dressed in the kind o88f wealth that could buy lives—or end them.

You felt the weight of their gazes the second you stepped inside. Some were wary. Some were intrigued. But all of them knew one thing.

You and Toji weren’t the kind of people you invited unless you had a death wish.

Toji had one hand in his pocket, the other resting loosely at your lower back. His mask obscured most of his face, but the glint in his sharp green eyes told you everything you needed to know.

He was watching. Calculating. Deciding which one of these rich bastards would be the first to piss him off.

"Relax," you murmured, taking a champagne flute from a passing server. "Try to have a little fun."

"I don’t do fun."

"You did fun in the dressing room before we got here."

His lip twitched. "That wasn’t fun. That was me keeping you from being a menace to society."

"Uh-huh." You took a slow sip, glancing around the room. "So, who’s the host of this little circus?"

"Satoru Gojo."

The name alone was enough to make your lips curl.

"The Gojo? The untouchable one?"

"Tch. He ain't that untouchable."

You arched a brow. "You sure? I’ve heard stories. They say he can see through anything, read people like a book. That he's got no weaknesses."

"Then he ain't met you yet."

You laughed softly, swirling the champagne in your glass. "You flatter me, Mr. Fushiguro."

Toji smirked, leaning in slightly, voice dropping to that dangerous, hushed tone. "I’m just stating facts, Mrs. Fushiguro."

The title sent a shiver down your spine. You would never get used to that.

And then—

"Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show up."

The voice was smooth, cocky, full of amusement.

You turned just as a tall figure emerged from the crowd—white hair, blue eyes that practically glowed beneath the low light.

Satoru Gojo.

The infamous, the arrogant, the annoyingly charming.

And the second he got close, his gaze raked over you like he was committing every detail to memory.

"Damn." He whistled, grinning. "You didn’t tell me your wife was this stunning, Fushiguro."

Toji's hand flexed at your back.

"Didn’t think it was any of your business, Gojo."

"Oh, but it is." Gojo’s grin widened. "You see, when a woman this beautiful walks into my event, I think it’s only fair I get to admire her a little."

Toji’s entire body tensed.

And you? You just smirked.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Gojo."

Toji’s fingers dug into your hip.

"But," you continued, tilting your head. "I have to wonder...are you admiring me, or are you trying to piss off my husband?"

Gojo’s eyes flicked to Toji, and the air between them shifted—like two predators sizing each other up.

"Can’t it be both?" Gojo mused.

Toji rolled his shoulders. "You got about three seconds to find someone else to piss off before I take that mask and shove it so far up your ass, you’ll be coughing lace for a week."

Gojo chuckled, lifting his hands in surrender. "Relax, Fushiguro. I’m just having a little fun."

"You won’t be laughing when your teeth are scattered across the floor, Satoru."

The tension was palpable now, the kind that made the surrounding guests take a step back, sensing the storm brewing.

You just sighed, reaching up to adjust Toji’s mask slightly.

"Toji, darling," you said sweetly, "no murder before dessert, remember?"

Toji grunted.

Gojo smirked, tipping his head toward you. "Smart woman."

"I try." You turned to Toji, brushing your fingers against his jaw. "Come on. Let’s go dance before you break something."

Toji exhaled sharply, glaring at Gojo for a moment longer before letting you pull him away.

But the moment you turned, Gojo leaned in slightly, voice just low enough for Toji to hear—

"You better hold onto her tight, Fushiguro. Women like that don’t stay with men like you forever."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The dance floor was bathed in golden light, couples moving in slow, practiced steps to the melody of a live orchestra.

Toji didn’t dance.

He killed people.

But tonight, with your body pressed against his, he made an exception.

"You’re tense," you murmured, fingers trailing up his neck.

"He pissed me off."

"I noticed."

His hand at your waist tightened. "Think he’s cute, do ya?"

You smiled against his jaw. "I think he’s an idiot."

"Damn right."

You chuckled, tilting your head. "You jealous?"

Toji scoffed. "Please. Like I got any reason to be."

You leaned in, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. "Then why are you holding me so tight?"

He exhaled sharply. "Because I can."

You grinned. "Mm. That’s what I thought."

Toji’s fingers slid lower, pressing into the curve of your spine, keeping you flush against him as he led you effortlessly across the floor.

"I could fuck you right here," he murmured. "Make Gojo regret ever lookin’ at you."

Heat curled in your stomach.

"Tempting," you whispered. "But let’s not give the old-money bastards a heart attack just yet."

Toji smirked. "Later, then."

"Later," you promised.

And in that moment, with the world watching, the two of you moved like shadows in the candlelight.

Dangerous.

Unstoppable.

And completely, utterly untouchable.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Gojo approached just as the song was ending, his signature cocky grin plastered on his face. He clapped Toji on the shoulder, way too familiar for someone who was actively trying to piss him off.

"Mind if I steal your wife for a dance?" Gojo asked, eyes flicking toward you.

Toji’s jaw tensed. "Yeah, actually, I do."

Gojo chuckled. "Come on, Fushiguro, don't be like that. It's just a dance."

Toji didn’t move.

You glanced between the two, then let out a slow breath. "Fine."

Toji’s fingers tightened around your waist before he finally let go. "Watch yourself, Gojo."

Gojo just winked before offering you his hand. You took it, allowing him to lead you a few steps away onto the dance floor.

"You really like pissing him off, don’t you?" you murmured as he placed a light hand at your back, the other loosely holding yours.

"Comes naturally," he replied with a smirk. "But don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m here for business, not just to rile up your husband."

"Could’ve fooled me."

Gojo twirled you smoothly before pulling you back in. "I have a proposition for you both."

"Oh?"

"You’re aware of the bounty on your heads, right?"

Your body tensed slightly. "Hard to miss."

Gojo tilted his head. "I could make that disappear."

You narrowed your eyes. "And why would you do that?"

"Because I could use people like you." His voice dropped slightly, no longer playful but calculated. "I have resources, connections, and money. A lot of money. You and Toji? You’re good. Very good. But right now, you’re being hunted. That kind of lifestyle catches up to you fast."

You didn’t respond, letting the words settle.

"So here’s the deal," he continued. "You work for me, and in return, I make sure no one touches you. No more running, no more watching your backs every second of the day. Just a simple exchange of skills for security."

You exhaled slowly. "And what kind of work would we be doing?"

Gojo’s lips twitched. "The kind you’re best at."

"Assassinations."

"Bingo."

You glanced over Gojo’s shoulder, catching sight of Toji across the room, leaning against the bar with a whiskey in hand, watching the two of you like a predator waiting to strike.

"And what if we say no?" you asked.

Gojo hummed. "Then I suppose you keep running until someone finally catches up to you." He leaned in slightly. "And let’s be real, sweetheart, even someone as good as you can’t outrun death forever."

You held his gaze for a long moment. "I’ll talk to Toji."

"Good girl," he murmured, spinning you one last time before the song ended.

When he let you go, you turned on your heel and walked straight toward Toji, ignoring the way Gojo’s eyes followed you.

Toji was already standing by the time you reached him, placing his glass on the bar.

"What did he want?"

You sighed. "An offer."

Toji scoffed. "Bet I ain’t gonna like it."

"Probably not," you admitted. "But we should at least hear him out."

Toji exhaled, jaw clenched, then turned his gaze toward Gojo, who was already watching with that same knowing smirk.

Toji rolled his shoulders. "Fine."

But something in his expression told you that whatever happened next, Gojo wasn’t going to get the last laugh.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Gojo’s office was bigger than expected—modern, sleek, with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city skyline. He leaned back in his chair, feet casually kicked up onto his desk, like a man who had never once worried about being killed in his life.

Toji, on the other hand, looked two seconds away from putting a bullet between Gojo’s stupidly blue eyes. His jaw was tight, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall, silent.

You sat across from Gojo, exhaling slowly. "So, let’s be clear. You’ll wipe the bounty clean?"

Gojo nodded. "No one would dare touch you if you work for me. You two are good, but you don’t have an army at your disposal. I do."

Toji let out a sharp breath. "Tch. You think I’m gonna be your damn lapdog?"

Gojo smirked. "No, I think you’ll be an asset. But hey, if you’d rather keep running, that’s your choice."

You turned to Toji. "Toji, this is our chance. No more looking over our shoulders every second of the day. No more cheap motel rooms, no more worrying if the next knock on the door is a bullet with our name on it."

Toji clenched his fists. "You don’t think I know that?" His voice was low, dangerous. "But I ain’t about to put our lives in Gojo’s hands. The second we’re not useful, we’re dead."

You exhaled sharply. "And if we don’t take the offer, we’re dead anyway. The bounty doesn’t disappear unless we do."

Toji’s eyes burned into you. "So what? You wanna be his dog? Jump when he says jump? Kill whoever he points at?"

You stood, the chair scraping against the floor. "I wanna live, Toji. I’m fucking tired. Aren’t you?"

His jaw flexed. His breathing was slow, measured, like he was trying to rein himself in.

Gojo hummed. "Lovers’ quarrel? Should I step out?"

Toji shot him a glare so sharp it could kill. "Shut the fuck up, Gojo."

Gojo only grinned, entirely unbothered.

You turned back to Toji. "I don’t want to keep running. I don’t want to wake up every day wondering if it’s my last."

Toji ran a hand down his face. "Fuck, woman…" He turned away for a second, shaking his head. "You trust him?"

"No," you admitted. "But I trust that he values talent. We’re worth more alive than dead."

Toji was silent for a long moment. Then, finally, he exhaled, running a hand through his hair before looking at Gojo.

"You fuck us over, I’ll kill you myself."

Gojo chuckled. "Noted."

Gojo slid a thick envelope across the desk, the weight of it ominous. "Standard contract. Nothing too crazy. You work for me, I wipe the bounty, and in return, you get all the resources you need to stop running and start living."

You opened it, scanning the contents. The words blurred together, exhaustion pressing at the edges of your vision, but the meaning was clear: loyalty in exchange for protection. It was a deal with the devil, but at least this devil had an army.

You grabbed the pen, flipping to the last page without hesitation.

"Wait—"

Too late. You signed your name in smooth, steady strokes.

Toji let out a sharp breath, then snatched the pen from your fingers before you could set it down.

You frowned, yanking your hand back. "The hell is your problem?"

Toji didn’t answer. His jaw was tight, his shoulders tense as he signed his own name beside yours, pressing the pen into the paper with more force than necessary. When he finished, he practically threw the pen onto Gojo’s desk and pushed himself up from the chair.

You exhaled through your nose. Oh, so he was still mad.

Gojo, as always, looked amused. "A pleasure doing business."

Neither of you responded. You stood, following Toji out of the office and down the hall in tense silence.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The drive home was worse.

Toji’s grip on the wheel was borderline aggressive, his knuckles white. His jaw was clenched so tightly you were surprised his teeth hadn’t cracked.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye before finally breaking the silence. "You gonna be pissed the whole way home?"

No answer.

You sighed, shifting in your seat. "Toji, talk to me."

Nothing.

You dragged a hand down your face, frustration creeping into your voice. "I swear to god, if you’re gonna sit here and sulk—"

"I’m not sulking," he snapped.

You scoffed. "Oh? So what do you call this then?"

His hands flexed around the steering wheel. "I call it not fucking pretending like we didn’t just sign our lives away."

You rolled your eyes. "Right. Because running forever was the better plan."

His voice sharpened. "It was better than being owned by Gojo."

"We’re not owned—"

"Aren’t we?" He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Fuck, woman, you really don’t get it, do you?"

Your temper flared. "No, Toji. I get it. I just don’t want to fucking die."

His fingers tightened around the wheel, and for a second, you thought he might slam his fist into the dashboard. Instead, he let out a sharp breath and muttered something under his breath.

You crossed your arms. "What?"

"Nothing."

"No, say it."

He didn’t.

The rest of the drive was silent.

When you got home, Toji was out of the car before the engine fully shut off. He slammed the door behind him and stalked toward the house.

You followed, locking the car and stepping inside just as he threw his keys onto the table.

The moment the door shut behind you, he turned on you.

"You don’t fucking think," he growled, voice sharp with frustration.

Your brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"

He stepped closer, towering over you, the heat in his gaze smoldering with anger. "You signed that contract like it was nothing."

"Because it was nothing," you snapped back. "It was survival."

He scoffed. "Survival? You don’t even know what you just agreed to."

You threw your arms up. "Oh, and you do? Because last I checked, you were just as clueless as me!"

His nostrils flared, chest rising and falling with deep, slow breaths. "You should’ve let me read it first."

"Oh, so now you’re mad that I didn’t let you go first?" You let out a sharp laugh. "News flash, Toji—I don’t need you to babysit me."

"Then stop making reckless fucking choices!"

"Reckless?!" You stared at him in disbelief. "Toji, we were running out of options!"

"That doesn’t mean signing our fucking lives over!"

"Then what does it mean?!" Your voice rose, frustration bubbling over. "You would rather us keep running? Keep moving from place to place, waiting for someone to catch up? You think that’s a better plan?"

"Better than owing him."

You exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through your hair. "You need to calm down—"

He laughed, the sound humorless. "Calm down? You want me to calm down?"

"Yes!"

His hands flexed at his sides like he was holding himself back. "You don’t get to fucking tell me to calm down when you—"

"When I what?" You stepped closer, not backing down.

His lips pressed into a thin line, nostrils flaring.

You shook your head, lowering your voice. "Toji, I get it. You don’t trust him. I don’t trust him. But this is the best option we have. I made that choice. You made that choice. So stop acting like it was just me. You didn't have to sign the fucking contract. I didn't make you do shit!"

His jaw ticked, his breath steady but tense.

You exhaled, voice softer. "I know you’re mad. But don’t be mad at me."

For a long moment, he didn’t move. His eyes burned into yours, searching, measuring, something stormy and unreadable in their depths. Then, finally, he let out a breath and looked away, dragging a hand through his hair.

"…Tch."

The fight drained from him in slow increments. He didn’t apologize—he never did—but his shoulders lost some of their tension.

You let out a breath of your own. "We’ll figure it out. Together."

He didn’t answer, but when he turned back to you, something in his gaze had shifted.

Frustrated. Annoyed. But still yours.

And that was enough.

My lil taglist ₍₍ ◝(　ﾟ∀ ﾟ )◟ ⁾⁾ : @t4naiis - @crimsonxm00n -

[anonymousewrites]

There's a Will; There's a Way (Book 4) Chapter Twenty-Four

Dazai Osamu x Reader

Chuuya Nakahara x Original Character (Akira Mori)

Yandere! Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Four: Four Dimensions

Summary: Akira is so over Fyodor and his drama and belief in his righteousness. Fyodor, on the other hand, is getting closer and closer to everything he wants.

Manga Spoilers! Literally up to latest chapter!

            “…What?” said Atsushi.

            “I may have my angel, but the companionship of he who houses the Bookmark Death is…interesting, to say the least,” said Fyodor. “Despite the…disappointing forms they take.”

            Atsushi clenched his fists. “Who the hell would ever join a bastard like you?”

            “Fuck that,” snapped Akira.

            “The expected response.” Fyodor smirked. “Very well, then let’s sweeten the pot. Should you serve alongside me, you may use the backside of the��page—” he patted his pocket to indicate he had it “—to return the Armed Detective Agency to its original state.”

            Atsushi’s eyes widened. His friends would live!

            Akira narrowed her eyes. “Except for (Y/N).”

            “She has ascended to the Divine Being she was always meant to be,” purred Fyodor. “Why would I let you drag her down to this lowly plane? This is a one-time offer. What will it be? I’ll give you five minutes to think—”

            “I’ll do it!” Tears were in Atsushi’s eyes, and his words were laden with desperation. “I’ll accept your deal! Please, save everyone!”

            “Atsushi,” hissed Akira. “What the hell are you doing? None of the Agency members would want this!”

            “You would take the deal if I offered (Y/N),” said Fyodor.

            “No, I wouldn’t,” said Akira, raising her chin. “Because (Y/N) wouldn’t want you to win and because I don’t trust you.”

            Fyodor smirked. “Oh, dear. I’ve been seen through.”

            Two slashes of light pierced the air. The Divine Being’s katana stabbed through Akira and Atsushi’s chests before they could blink. Akira and Atsushi stumbled. He fell to the ground, and she caught herself on her knees, gripping her chest as blood seeped through her shirt.

            “Your beauty lies only in your natures as the Bookmark and Death,” said Fyodor. “I haven’t the faintest interesting in you. Unlike my angel, the forms they took do not match their grandeur.”

            Stabbed and insulted. I’m really, really not having a good day, thought Akira blearily, trying to hold onto anger to remain focused on the situation at hand.

            “I’m begging you!” Atsushi clutched Fyodor’s ankle, tears pouring down his cheeks. “You can do whatever you want me this! I’ll give you my life! Please, just…save everyone else!”

            Fyodor’s eyes narrowed in disgust. “How unpleasant.” He wrenched his foot free and kicked Atsushi’s hand. “To think the Bookmark, that abhorrent, noble tiger, dwells withing such a…It’s as distasteful as the reaper choosing that one.”

            Reaper, Death, Wraith, I’ve got so many great names, thought Akira, trying to staunch the bleeding of her chest.

            “Please, if there’s anything I can do, I’ll do it!” said Atsushi, still begging for his friends’ lives.

            “I’ve changed my mind.” Fyodor raised his hand with the mark, and the Divine Being stepped forward with her katana in hand. “From the neck up should be more than enough to obtain the power I need from you.” He looked at the Divine Being. “My angel…decapitate them.”

            The Divine Being flicked her wrist downwards. And her hand fell to the side with the katana. Atsushi and Akira’s eyes widened. The Divine Being’s hand reappeared on her wrist a moment later, but she turned her head to face the person who had attempted to cut her apart.

            “How…” Atsushi stared.

            “That’s a look,” said Akira. I think the blood loss is getting to me. It was slowing as her healing ability caught up, but, still.

            “Oh my,” said Fyodor, raising a brow in amusement.

            “Fear death. Fear slaughter.” Akutagawa, dressed in shadow-like armor, held a sword and stared evenly at the Divine Being and Fyodor. “Should death toy with an innocent soul it shall thusly spill into the harbor of sorrow.”

            “Akutagawa…” said Atsushi in shock.

            I don’t remember him speaking “eloquently,” thought Akira.

            “I see,” observed Fyodor. “A little parting gift from Bram, then? Supposing the powers of the vampire still dwell within you, it’s not surprising you could follow the scent of blood here.”

            “I bear no grudge,” said Akutagawa. “However, I shall martyr myself on the pledge of this knight’s sword. To any barbarian who dares bring harm to the princess or to the commoners, I shall take aim, and I shall strike!” He raised his sword.

            Aya’s alive, realized Akira. And the vampires are compelled to protect her because of Bram. She wondered what Fyodor’s compulsion was. He did take over Bram’s body. He’d probably still kill her. Heartless bastard that he is.

            “It’s no use, Akutagawa!” shouted Atsushi as the Divine Being faced Akutagawa fully. “You’ll die if you fight her!”

            Akutagawa raised his head so that the helmet did not obscure his face. He stared at Atsushi indifferently. “Who the hell are you?”

            Atsushi’s eyes widened, and Akira narrowed her eyes. Apparently, mysteries were going to abound on all sides of this situation.

            The Divine Being moved behind Akutagawa and stabbed downwards with her practiced precision and power. Akutagawa blocked with his black shield.

            “Spatial distortion,” he said, reinforced the shield and moving himself farther from the Divine Being.

            He defended against that blade?! Atsushi’s eyes widened.

            “Well, well. Look at you,” remarked Fyodor. “You possess the ability to manipulate space, just as the Ame-no-Gozen does within the Divine Being. And yet…” He smirked.

            The Divine Being appeared behind Akutagawa, moving between planes and places of existence with ease.

            “So fast!” cried Atsushi.

            “Not fast—” said Akira.

            “Correct,” said Fyodor. “My darling angel can omit all movement up until the attack itself. In realm of space manipulation, I’m afraid you’re outclassed. My angel controls all she sees and feels, and she sees all.”

            The Divine Being struck, and Akutagawa whirled, blocking with his armored leg and kicking out. The Divine Being slid back from the strike. Akira grinned, Atsushi’s eyes widened in awe, and Fyodor started in shock.

            So she’s powerful, yes. But people can fight her, thought Akira. Fyodor’s plan isn’t untouchable. (Y/N) can be helped. That was all the strength Akira needed to stand again.

            The Divine Being and Akutagawa crossed blades. The two were equally strong and durable. Even when Akutagawa was forced back and his armor unwound to hover around him, he was not daunted by the being before him, the god.

            “You’ve even retained the vampire’s durability,” observed Fyodor, his self-satisfied smirking finally falling.

            Akutagawa stood straight with his helmet on. “This blade serves the heavens. This soul follows the path of righteousness. The path of the knight.”

            The Divine Being considered him, gaze steady behind her veil. “I serve order. I am order.”

            “I am order?” Just what exactly was this Divine Being? Akira furrowed her brow.

            The Divine Being and Akutagawa swung at one another. As their swords clashed, sparks of red and green light flashed and blinded their audience.

            “Let us pose a hypothetical.”

            Akira straightened as she heard the smirk in Fyodor’s words. His strategic voice was back, and that meant he had figured something out that spelt danger for them.

            “Let us suppose we have here an ability user who can block any attack with an impenetrable barrier,” said Fyodor. “However, this individual is one dimension below us. They inhabit the second dimension: the ‘paper world.’ Now. Question. Can we three dimensional beings break through this barrier and kill the individual?” He smirked. “The answer is, of course, with ease. Atop the paper, we may simply stab the man within the barrier. For within his world, ‘depth’ does not exist. We can circumvent the barrier and attack at will. A knife of a higher dimension is incomprehensible to him up until the moment he’s pierced, which rules out any possibility of evasion. Therefore, attacks coming from a higher dimension are intrinsically inescapable.”

            Third beats second. Fourth beats third—the Divine Being beats Akutagawa, even if it takes time. Akira’s eyes snapped to Fyodor as he held up his hand with the mark of the Divine Being.

            “Allow me to demonstrate,” he said with sadistic satisfaction.

            A sword burst from within Akutagawa’s stomach. He coughed, blood spluttering upon his lips. The Divine Being still floated in front of him, no change in her expression. Her sword had merely ceased to exist at her side and instead pierced him from the inside out—his three-dimensionality meant nothing to her.

            “Akutagawa!” cried Atsushi.

            “Shit,” cursed Akira as yet another avenue of fighting was brought to its knees. Was the Divine Being truly so unbeatable? Did she hold all the power in the world? Could they never defeat her and Fyodor to save (Y/N)?

            “She circumvented the higher dimension and delivered a blow directly to his internals.” Fyodor smiled sickeningly. “My angel is superior to you all.”

The look in his eyes as he gazed at the Divine Being was so far from love and so far fallen into obsession that it made Akira’s stomach turn and her horns fully curl out as her protective nature over (Y/N) reared its head.

            Akutagawa collapsed to the ground, blood pooling beneath his body. The Divine Being gazed down at him, but he didn’t fade into light. He was still breathing, but he was kept in check by her.

            “I’m sure you understand, now, how ill-advised it would be to fight a higher plane of existence,” said Fyodor.

            “What, you expect us to just roll over and die?” snarled Akira.

            “To be frank, whether you live or die is a matter far, far below my concern,” said Fyodor. “I can depend on my angel to dispatch of you and bring what I require. I must be going. It’s time to board my plane, after all.” He turned away, and the Divine Being stepped between him and Atsushi and Akira.

            “Then let me ask you this, demon of the far North.” Holding his katana tightly and wearing a grim, determined expression, Fukuzawa stepped out of the shadows in front of Fyodor. “Have you any interest in my survival?”

            Fyodor smirked, unfazed. “Not particularly.”

            Fukuzawa looked at the Divine Being and gritted his teeth. Grief creased his features. “(Y/N)…You’ve stolen her, warped who she is. Do not expect forgiveness.”

            “I made her who she was meant to be—a being far above all of you,” said Fyodor.

            Fukuzawa glared at him. “You stole Gen’ichiro’s dream of peace.”

            “I stole it? How absurd,” said Fyodor. “His dream of world peace was doomed from the start.”

            “What?” said Fukuzawa.

            “It would not have been possible to achieve world peace through his methods,” said Fyodor. “ ‘Unifying all states will eradicate war?’ An unlearned outlook befitting of your short lives. In any case, the framework of the ‘modern state’ itself only came into being around the eighteenth century and amounts to nothing but a toddling promise. Within the next several hundred years, political and militaristic affairs will likely become the jurisdiction of the private sector. Or, perhaps, colonies exercising independence as extraterrestrial communities will rise to prominence. No matter the ship, it won’t be known as any sort of antiquated system like a ‘Union of Mankind.’ Within their new groupings, man will once more settle into ‘us’ and ‘them’ and begin their massacre.”

            “They won’t,” said Fukuzawa forcefully. “In such a time, a union of mankind will rise yet again. And shouldering virtue and benevolence ‘us’ and ‘them’ will join together!”

            “That’s precisely it.” Fyodor tsked. “That’s the fatal flaw between the two of you. The very ‘virtue’ and ‘benevolence’ of which you speak. I think it’s spectacular. However, that’s only as long as it fits atop your palm. As ‘virtue and benevolence’ outgrow that fixed size, man grows irritated. ‘World peace.’ ‘A union of mankind.’ Humanity cannot bear such enormous virtue.”

            He cast his gaze down and sighed. “Man will always forgo virtue in favor of ‘what feels natural.’ Just as he’ll forever revere the ‘status quo’ more than ‘benevolence.’ A colossal commonwealth of man. Autocracy for world peace. The masses would never allow such a thing. They cannot even handle taking care of children without family.”

            Akira and Atsushi both stiffened. They had experienced the callousness with which the world treated people who did not belong. Atsushi hid behind shyness and became easily frightened as he tried to fit in. Akira built up walls and a rough exterior to protect herself. They both understood that peace was hard to find if you were not what people approved of.

            “With a union of man having set the stage, a party of heroes will come forth who feel such is ‘unnatural,’ ” continued Fyodor. “They shall destroy it all for their goal of division and independence.”

            “That isn’t true! Man will choose peace!” said Fukuzawa.

            “He will do no such thing,” said Fyodor. “I can prove it. Fukuchi claimed he killed five hundred in the name of world peace. Yet you yourself could not affirm it.”

            “…!” Fukuzawa started.

            “He killed innocent people,” said Akira savagely. “He killed my mother and (Y/N)’s! He claimed he wanted peace but he never sought to bring people together, only to eradicate those who went against him!”

            “Akira,” said Fukuzawa quietly, and Akira looked at him, quieting. Fukuzawa looked at Fyodor, shoulders sagging slightly. “That may be true…” He glared. “But you deceived Gen’ichiro by keeping quiet the issues that would plague a union of mankind. You made a fool of him, knowing peace would never come. You are pure evil!”

            “How absurd.” Fyodor put his hand to his heart. “I am Fukuchi’s successor. I am his disciple, inheriting his dream, bringing true, lasting peace.”

            “You want to bring peace?” said Akira. “I don’t believe it.”

            “How would you do it?” said Fukuzawa, narrowing his eyes.

            Fyodor smirked. “Through world war.”

            Fukuzawa’s eyes widened as a blade pierced his chest from the back. The Divine Being held the hilt and pushed the katana farther in, causing him to cough up blood.

            Atsushi let out a strangled scream.

            “No!” shouted Akira.

            It was too late. The Divine Being pulled the blade from his chest, and Fukuzawa crumpled to the ground.

            How did she do that? She was standing behind Fyodor— Akira’s eyes widened as she looked towards Fyodor. The Divine Being was still there. She was just also standing over Fukuzawa’s body.

            “By folding them across the axis of the fourth dimension, time, I’ve manifested the Divine Being of the past and the Divine Being of the present at once,” said Fyodor. “Three dimensional being such as yourself are able to draw with both hands simultaneously atop a two-dimensional surface, are you not? The same principle is now at play.”

            Goddamn these fucking dimensions, thought Akira furiously.

            Fyodor looked down at Fukuzawa and decided to humor him with the “how” of achieving world peace. “Eternal peace, born of world war…It’s a true shame I won’t be able to show it to you. In one corner, humanity. In the other, Gifted. That’s sure to be a long, long battle, don’t you think? Such opposition, coupled with threads of abhorrence, shall give rise to a humanity united.”

            “By uniting them against the gifted,” said Akira, narrowing her eyes.

            “Of course,” said Fyodor. “Gifts are, of course, a sin.”

            “You’re using us for your own ends,” said Akira. “Because you don’t see us as human.”

            “You? Most definitely not,” said Fyodor.

            “War in the name of peace?” From where he bled, Fukuzawa spoke angrily. “That’s contradictory!”

            “The stage has already been set,” said Fyodor. “The vampire’s global invasion has shown the world the danger of ability users. ‘We don’t need those abilities in the history of mankind.’ ‘Kill them all.’ Making them believe that will be simple with ‘One Order.’ ”

            Akira knew all too well that bigotry spread like plague. Fyodor could easily create the war he sought.

            “Utilizing not ‘virtue’ and ‘benevolence’ but the ‘hideousness of man,’ I shall bring forth a thousand years of peace built atop the corpses of the gifted,” said Fyodor.

            “What…are you?” breathed Fukuzawa, staring at Fyodor. “I can’t possibly see you as human. Why would you go to such lengths to—”

            “Ssh.” Fyodor pressed a finger to his lips at the moment Fukuzawa began to fade into light.

            “President!”

            “Fukuzawa!”

            “Atsushi, Akira…Forgive me,” said Fukuzawa tiredly. “I’m leaving the rest…in your hands…” He disappeared, and the Divine Being took the final sphere of green light into her hands. She clasped it gently, and it dissolved.

            Akira and Atsushi were left alone, facing with Fyodor and two Divine Beings who could come from any place and any time in a way they could never understand. How could they hope to win?

Taglist:

@snowy-violet

@introvertathome

[zeltqz]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 [𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐃] SIX

pairing. ex!ran x fem!reader

word count. 7k

series synopsis. bonten is forming and in the midst of it all, you find yourself caught in the sticky webs of your ex boyfriend and current bonten executive, haitani ran.

content. smoking, mild drug use, SMUT, mentions of past alcohol addiction, murder/implied death threats

a/n: i am so SORRRY you all had to wait like two fucking months for the next chapter. I came back from my summer vacation and had my birthday recently so i was inactive sorry sososrryryryryr 😔😔 hope you enjoyed this chapter ily all

2006

You tried concentrating as you poured some milk into your cereal but the sounds of the TV channels being flipped every two seconds drove you to borderline insanity. “Would you chill out?” you asked, glaring at Ran over your bowl of cereal.

“Can’t find anything worth watching.” He was lounging around in your living room, his feet kicked up on your table and shrugged, turning to look at you and flashing a cheesy yet charming grin in your direction. 

Your mother walked down the stairs, rubbing her eyes tiredly. When she saw a shirtless Ran sitting on her couch, she almost passed out when she saw the litter of tattoos on his chest, trailing up and down his leg and arm. 

Ran felt her stare and glanced at her, raising a curious eyebrow and anything she had to complain about instantly faded as she shut her mouth and walked over to the kitchen. 

She dragged you to a corner of the kitchen, one where Ran couldn’t hear. “Is this the guy…you were telling me about?” she asked, concerned.

“Yes?” you responded, looking at her weirdly and scooped your spoon back into your cereal. “Why?”

“Why is he here..? At ten in the morning?”

“Oh. Because he slept over.” You took a bite of your food, satisfied with the small unhelpful answers you were giving her.

“Oh. I didn’t see him last night. What time did you get home?”

You shrugged. “Around 2-3?”

She pressed her lips together, firmly. “Where’s his shirt?”

“I got hot during the night,” you laughed but she didn’t find it funny.

“Well couldn’t you give him another one?”

“Unless you want to see him in one of my tank tops then no.” The amusement slowly drifted away when you realised she wasn’t humouring you at all and she was being serious. “Why are you asking so many questions?”

She gave you a concerned look, like she expected the answer to be obvious but it only pissed you off more. Who the hell was she to judge who you liked?

Reading the look on your face, she instantly dropped the topic, not wanting to get into another argument with you, especially not sober. “Okay, fine. I won’t ask any questions.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the cupboard. “Are you at least going to school today? It started three hours ago.”

You shook your head. “I’m staying here with Ran today. You’ll be gone, right? For that job interview?”

“...yeah. My AA sponsor said I should start getting back on my feet.”

“Good.” You put your cereal bowl down. “I can stop carrying the household on my back and you can start doing your job as a mother,” you said sweetly, tilting your head condescendingly to the side. 

She returned your incredibly fake smile for a second and then sighed, dropping the act and returning back to concerned mother. “Skipping school for a boy though…? Is that really smart?”

You glared at her, pushing your side off the counter to stand in front of her. “Don’t start this. Not now. I’m happy, and he makes me happy. If you cared about me, you’d accept it. Hiro likes him too!”

She shook her head and took a deep breath, trying to come off as gentle yet firm. “You may think he makes you happy, but—”

“I think I know what I like mom. I’m eighteen! I’m not some child that doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“You’re dating a guy that looks at least twenty—”

“I’m nineteen,” Ran called back from the living room, his eyes glued onto his phone. 

Your mother’s mouth closed shut as she ate down her words and you looked at her, waiting to see what bullshit she’d come up with next. She lowered her voice to a whisper, “I didn’t know he could hear us.”

“So?”

Your mother grabbed your hands and squeezed them reassuringly. “What you’re going through, baby, is what every teenage girl goes through at your age. It’s a phase.”

“It’s not a—fuck! Mom!”

“It is!! I went through the same thing at your age. Next thing you know I got knocked up by a—”  she lowered her voice to ensure Ran couldn’t hear this time, “a delinquent. And how do you think that turned out?” You shrugged your shoulders. “Exactly. He fucking left. Where else do you think your dad is right now?”

“I don’t care about that man. Ran is nothing like that. He actually cares about me. He got me a job, taught me things and even let’s me stay at his place when I don’t want to stay here.”

“Wait, you stay at his? Like live with him?” 

You nodded slowly. “The fact you don’t even know when I’m gone is concerning. What’s the problem anyway?I use protection if that’s what you’re so scared of—” 

“I just don’t want you fucking up your life like I did mine. Especially at your age. Okay?”

“Who said I’m—”  Your mother shushed you when your volume was starting to rise. You cleared your throat and spoke again, but more quietly, “who said I’m fucking my life up?”

“You’re literally skipping school!”

“It’s the first time! Just for today! It’s his only free day, okay? I dunno when I’ll be able to spend time with him again. Just let me have this. Please? I’ll catch up on my school work tomorrow. I promise.”

“He’s not a good influence, baby. You’re smart, you can do better than this.” 

“Are we done here?” You sighed, rubbing your temples in irritation. Your mother looked like she had more to say but closed her mouth and slowly shook her head. “Good.” You walked away from the kitchen, into the living room and flopped down on the couch next to Ran. 

You waited until your mother walked back up the stairs before turning to face Ran, putting your head on his shoulder.

 “Hey, pretty girl. You done arguing with your mother yet?” He said, attention fully on his phone and lifted his arm up to wrap around your shoulder, holding you tightly against his side. 

“Hiya,” you smiled and nuzzled your face in his chest, taking in his strong scent. “My mother thinks you’re a bad influence.”

“Can’t say I disagree,” he said, grinning. You playfully slapped his arm and he slid his hand down to your sides before lifting you up and to straddle his lap. 

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” you said softly, lacing your arms behind his head and leaning down to peck him on the lips. “She’s just a hypocrite.”

“It’s fine baby. C’mere.” You shifted on his lap to rest your head against his shoulder. “You worry too much. Who cares what people think.”

“I don’t care. I just hate her fucking opinion. She always judges everything I do. Then once she starts drinking again she becomes the most irresponsible person on the planet, but expects me to be a saint? It’s so tiring.” 

Ran hummed and kissed your forehead. “Want me to make you feel better?”

You bit your lip and looked up at him before smiling. He tossed his phone on the opposite couch and flipped your positions, your back resting flat against the couch as he hovered over you. You erupted in a fit of giggles and laughter as he kissed his way down your stomach, making you squirm and squeal with excitement. The buzz of butterflies flew in your stomach as he kissed down your belly. Your shorts were short enough to show him the lace of your panties Mira helped you pick out during your shopping spree last week. You watched intently, bunching his long hair up and out of his face as his lips lingered close to your thighs. Your breath hitched as he stuck out his tongue, running it along the thin fabric, then licked a trail back up your body, to your face, kissing you deeply. 

Your mother watched from the staircase shaking her head in disappointment as she watched you fall for someone like him. She's had experience with guys like Ran, she knows what kind of monster they are deep down inside and knows exactly how they were. After all, she fucked around with a guy like that and got pregnant at 20. Your dad was a deadbeat, refusing to accept you as his own and left when you were four. Ever since that night, she's been drinking to cope with the loneliness, unable to function by herself after getting so attached to him. They'd be on and off for a couple years, and constantly get your hopes up that you'd be a happy family, but they just weren't meant to work out.

In all honesty, she would have loved for you to meet someone else, a nice guy who could give you a stable relationship, but that's impossible. In her eyes, Ran was bad news, he was all fun and games, but deep down he had no feelings for you other than lust. And once you fell for him, he would use you until he got bored and moved onto the next girl. She couldn't imagine why you would fall for him. But it was obvious how happy you are with him. So you can only hope that she was wrong. That maybe one day you will meet someone special, and not end up like her.

So she let out a heavy sigh, and went back upstairs. 

Present day.

It had been a week, and the phone Mikey gave you remained eerily silent, devoid of any notifications or messages. You spent the weekend at Shion’s house, keeping conversations to a minimum, only sharing faint smiles when he’d place his hand on your waist for a kiss. You weren’t in the mood, and you felt guilty for taking your sour mood on him, but the conversation with Dona and the plan Mikey and Sanzu formed had put a damper on your entire mood.

You hadn’t left Shion’s house either; instead, you laid on the bed, consumed by your thoughts about what you’d have to do with Mira. Your finger hovered over Mira’s contact for a few moments before you finally decided to get over yourself and text her.

You: MIRAA i missed you so much. Are you free anytime soon? 

You cringed at the text but sighed and hit send. Mira seemed likely to be busy, what with her engagement to the head of police, or chief of police? Frankly, you couldn’t be bothered to remember Naoto’s job title. While waiting for her response, you managed to clean both Shion’s bedroom and the living room. Boredom had driven you to it, there was nothing else for you to do anyway. 

Ran’s number remained blocked, even though you knew it wasn’t his fault that lackeys broke into Hiro’s house and beat him half to death like you thought initially. But at the end of the day, you still promised Hiro you’d stay away from Ran. It wasn’t as simple as it sounded, especially since the initial anger toward him had faded now that you knew the incident wasn’t planned, not even Mikey had been aware of it.

You were in the midst of wiping down the kitchen counters, earphones playing your favourite song in your eyes when your phone suddenly buzzed in your back pocket. The vibration startled you, and you hastily set the cleaning wipes aside. After drying your hands on the sides of your jeans, you grabbed your phone from your pocket.

Mira: HEY!!!!!!!!! ITS BEEN SO LONG I MISSED YOU SO MUCH :( SORRY BUT I’M BUSY ALL WEEK. I’M FREE THIS WEEKEND THOUGH. IS SATURDAY ALRIGHT?

You chewed the inside of your cheek, taking a moment to think. Next Saturday seems fine, but you feel by then it’ll have already been two weeks and you don’t want to wait too long before Mikey and Sanzu think you’re stalling. You brought out the burner phone in your dresser and unlocked it, pulling out Dona’s saved contact details and called her for advice.

You had a few questions on your mind to ask her. How long does it take to piss Mikey off, how many bodies does Sanzu have, how to quit this Bonten agreement with all your limbs and organs intact. It still angered you to even think about asking Dona, especially after the argument, but you had no other choice.

It seemed like the idea of talking to you pissed Dona off as well since she practically growled, “What the hell do you want?” the second she picked up the phone.

“Oh grow up, would you? This 8 year one sided grudge you have isn’t cute.”

“Did you think for a second that maybe it’s not a ‘one-sided grudge’ and I just genuinely don’t fucking like you?”

You rolled your eyes so far back in your head and settled down on the bed with a hefty sigh. “Cool. Anyway, are you free on Saturday?”

“...why?”

“Is it not fucking obvious why?” you snapped. There was a long silence on the other end before you groaned loudly. “Mira? The plan? The whole entire reason we’re even talking right now?”

“Oh. That. Can’t, sorry. I’m busy on Saturday.”

“Well that’s the only day Mira is available so clear up some damn room and cancel your plans.”

“I’ll think about it.” Dona said.

“‘Kay. Thank you D—” There was a beep and the disconnected sound blared in your eyes. “Bitch.” You tossed the burner back into the dresser with a thud and you quickly made sure you didn’t crack the screen. Inspection over, you grabbed your main phone and texted Mira saying you couldn’t wait to see her this weekend, smiling when she sent a string of emojis mixed with hearts and smiley faces before disappearing offline.

Your heart warmed knowing she hadn’t changed a single bit, always sending those same string of emojis whenever you both parted ways during texts. You left your phone on the bed, about to head back to the kitchen when your phone buzzed against the sheets. You picked up the phone, only to see there were no notifications. Confused, you looked around, remembering the burner phone and grabbed it. 

The phone only had 9 saved numbers: Mikey, Sanzu and Dona were the only ones that you knew of. You didn’t bother checking the rest. Pulling up the contacts, you saw the names of all the other executives: Ran, Rindou, Kokonoi, Takeomi, Mochizuki and Kakucho.

“Oh my god, Kaku,” you said to nobody but yourself. You were faintly acquainted with Kakucho, only saying hello and exchanging waves whenever you crossed paths, which wasn’t often either. You barely saw Ran’s friends back then except Rindou. 

You checked the recent messages on the burner. You couldn’t help but feel lightness in your chest when you saw the message was from Ran. 

Ran: so this is where you’ve been hiding

You smiled at the text, shifting onto your back on the bed and typed back a response. 

You: how did you find me

Ran: you forget who I work for?

You: oh. yeah makes sense

You: so what do you want

Ran: i miss you

You: u went 8 years without me. You’ll live

Ran: and I joined a criminal organisation, cut my hair short and dyed it pink and purple. What does that tell you

You: that I’m amazzzingggg

Ran: ik u are. 

Ran: come over tonight 

You: I can’t sorry. I made a promise that I can’t see u again

Ran: I would take that seriously if you didn’t make that same exact promise to ur mother ten years ago

Ran: and I still got u in my bed

You: …

You: fine. But I don’t want your drivers driving me around anymore. 

Ran: thought you would like the princess treatment 

You: no I don’t. You can help buy me a car tho?

Ran: ?

You: plsplsplsplspslspslssss

Ran: I’ll think about it

You: and I’ll see you tonight 

Ran: alright baby

“I’m back!” Shion called from the front door. 

You turned your phone off and entered the living room, approaching Shion from behind. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a bear hug. He stumbled forward from the impact, taking a second to catch his footing before peeking behind his arm at your face dug into his back. “Aw, you missed me.”

He turned around and you let go of his waist, his hands rising to hold your face and plaster a wet sticky kiss on your forehead. 

“Ew, gross,” you mumbled, a hint of a playful smile on your lips as you wiped your hand over the leftover spit. He grumbled for you to shut up and walked over to the kitchen, opening the fridge door to examine its contents. “I’m not gonna be home on Saturday,” you said as you followed behind him.

“Really? Why?”

“I’m hanging out with Mira. A little reunion thing, you know?”

“That’s cute.” He pulled out the milk and opened it, sniffing it, then grimaced and tossed it in the trash. “But who the hell is Mira?”

“You really don’t remember her? Me, her and Dona?”

Shion removed his head from the fridge and looked at you and shrugged. “Oh wait.” He took a moment and you crossed your arms, waiting. “Oh! Her! Didn’t she have a crush on me?” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes. “She found you cute at first, then you got knocked out in a fight. Instant ick.”

His eyes narrowed. “That fight wasn’t fair and you know it. Nobody told Hanma to bring a goddamn bat.”

“Like you’d win if he didn’t have the bat—” You just about dodged the empty water bottle he tossed at you. You quickly grabbed it and threw it back in his direction. He swiftly swatted it away before it could hit him and you scoffed. “If only you could fight as good as you could dodg—”

“That’s it.” He picked you up by the legs and carried you over to the couch, ignoring your complaints which eventually turned into laughter when he set you onto the couch. He swatted away some cushions and pinned you against the surface. 

“You caught me off guard. That’s all.”

“Yeah okay.” He laughed and dipped his head down towards yours. You parted your lips when his tongue slid past your teeth, hot against your own. You giggled, closing your eyes as he nipped at your bottom lip. 

“Lemme borrow your car later,” you said in between kisses, wrapping your legs around his waist as he started nibbling at your neck.

“What?” he mumbled softly, breaking the kiss and looking down at you. “Fuck it’s been so long since I fucked you.”

“I said,'' you wound your arms around his neck. “Can you lemme borrow your car tonight?”

His eyes travelled down your body and his gaze lingered on the swell of your tits through your shirt for a moment before moving back up to your eyes when you purposefully moved your head to his eyeline. “Please?”

“Uh. What for?”

You shrugged and lolled your head back against the couch, your finger rising to wrap your finger around the silver chain dangling from his neck. “I just want to drive around. I’m bored. Please?”

“I mean sure…but—” You swiftly sat up and kissed his cheek as a distraction. His cheeks were flushed slightly and he bit down on his lower lip, a satisfied grin forming on his face when your lips slowly trailed from his cheeks to his lips, kissing him slowly and passionately, the way you know he likes it. 

You pulled away and brought his head down to your lips, whispering, “please?” into his ear. He groaned and kissed you one last time before thoroughly agreeing. “Thank you thank you thank you! Mwah.” You planted one more kiss on his lips before pushing him off of you and slipping off the couch.

~*~

“What exactly is this supposed to be?”

Ran shrugged, finished downing his drink and placed it back on the counter top before leaning forward to get a closer look at the little baggie you had in your hand. “Kokonoi gave it to me.”

“Yeah okay, but—” You let out a noise of doubt and put it back on the table. “I don’t trust it.”

“Since when were you a pussy?” 

You looked up at Ran and glared at the smug smile on his face. “I’m not a pussy Ran. I just don’t want to eat a random pill that you yourself said you don’t know what it's called!”

He rested his elbows on the marble countertop and his grin widened. “I took it earlier and I’m fine.”

“That’s because you barely have brain cells left to scramble.” You reached over the counter and ruffled his perfectly styled hair. “I’ll do it because I trust you.” You removed the pink pill from the baggie and held it up to your eyes, examining it cautiously. “If this kills me—”

“It won’t, you big baby. Eat it.”

You bit your lip and thought for a moment before looking back up at him. “Fine. Get me some water.”

“Just swallow it.”

You huffed, “I need some water to help. I can’t just swallow it.”

He looked at you, amused, and crossed his arms. “Why not?”

“Because! Ugh, shut up!” You put the pill back on the counter and stormed over to the cabinet, grabbing an empty glass, then to the tap to fill it with tap water. Ran laughed from his corner of the kitchen as he watched you stomp your way around his kitchen, like a storm. You turned to glare at him, his laugh only making you even more annoyed. “What the hell is so funny?”

“You,” he cackled again when your eyebrows furrowed deeper. “Your temper. It’s hilarious.”

“I don’t have a goddamn temper.”

“You explode at anything small. It’s cute.” He walked over towards you and booped your nose, the tip of his finger skirting down your cheek to your chin, lifting your face up to his eyeline. “You really haven’t changed a single bit. It’s reassuring.”

“Well, thanks.” You looked down at the glass of water with an uncertain look on your face. “This’ll get me high right?”

“Yeah.” You took a second for motivation and Ran moved to grab the pill off the counter. He returned in front of you, “Open your mouth.” He waited until your mouth was open before slotting the pill on the flat pink of your tongue. You brought the water up to your mouth and took a sip before digesting it. 

Thanks to the water, you couldn’t feel the full effects of the pill hitting you until a few hours later, you resting on top of Ran’s chest, drifting in and out of sleep. He had you locked tight around his arms, enjoying the warmth and weight of you atop of him. He felt you shuffle around, trying to get comfortable.  

“What car do you want?” Ran asked, looking down at your head resting against his chest. Your head was tucked under his chin, one arm wrapped around his waist as the other clutched onto his shirt. 

Your head felt heavy when you tried to lift it from his chest and squinted up at him. With the drugs running through your veins, everything looked brighter and crispier, colours seeming sharper than usual. It was hard to focus. “Ummm, what car?” you asked slowly.

Ran chuckled softly and leaned downwards, pressing his lips against your forehead. “The one you asked me to buy you.”

“Hm.” You sat up from his chest and straddled his lap. He slid his hands up your thighs to hold onto your hips. Your hands rested beside his head as you hazily looked down at him. “I wasn’t serious about that. You know?”

“Serious or not, I’ll buy it for you. Anything you want. Just tell me.”

“Really?” you smiled and bit your lip.

He shifted upwards, inching closer to your face, your nose brushing against his. “Anything you want.”

You couldn’t resist the close proximity anymore and dipped your head downwards, kissing him gently. You lifted one hand from the bed to rest on the side of his face. He pulled your hips closer, pressing you hard against his erection. The friction and the heat of his body against yours made you moan softly, which he eagerly swallowed up with each kiss. 

You could feel his cock begin to harden against your inner thigh and bit down on his lip before sucking it back into his mouth, relishing in the low groan he left out when you slowly pushed your hips back against his lap. Your hands gripped onto the pillow under him, digging your nails into the fabric as you latched your lips onto the skin of his neck, biting and sucking gently on the flesh. His hand skimmed past your thighs, along the curve of your ass and gripped it, squeezing whatever he could grab and groaned at the feeling of your soft lips against his skin, sucking softly.

You broke the kiss and licked down his neck. His skin tasted sweet and tangy, sending tingles throughout your entire body. 

Your world was flipped when he switched positions in the blink of an eye and hovered above you, gazing into your eyes with lust filled desire. You looped your arms around his neck and pulled him close, locking your lips together.You felt Ran’s hands slide across your leg and hitched it upwards to wrap around his waist, and you whimpered in response, your back arching as you let yourself loose around him.

“This okay?” he murmured softly against your lips as his hand slowly entered inside your jeans. You nodded vigorously and pulled him back down for a kiss, slipping your tongue desperately between his lips. The sheets got tangled beneath your bodies as you both kissed passionately. 

You pushed him onto his side, his hand lifting your thigh to rest over your leg. His fingers unzipped your jeans and helped you toss them off before lifting your thigh to rest over his leg, sliding his hand down to rest against your ass, his grip creating a heat wild enough within you and sending a jolt of electricity to your core.

With every inch of his body pressed against you, you couldn’t help but moan. “Fuck me please Ran. I need it.”

Ran hummed deeply against your lips and pushed you onto your back. He knelt between your legs and you giggled as he parted them open with his big hands. You reached downwards, his fingers teasing the waistband of his pants and you helped him push it down and off his hips. You grabbed his cock, the tip wet with pre and positioned it by your entrance. He braced his hands beside your head, his forehead touching yours as your pussy twitched when he moved closer to you, trailing kisses along your neck.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, closing your eyes shut when you felt his cock slowly enter you. “Fuck fuck fuck oh my god.” You dug your fingers into his shoulder blades and arched your back, feeling the head slide past your barrier, stretching you out.

“Almost there baby.” He kept thrusting slowly, taking his time and going further inside of you with each stroke. You cried out loud, louder than before, moaning constantly as he pushed himself deeper into you. “God, you’re so tight.” He groaned out your name and your body shivered at the raspiness of his voice.

“More,” you panted desperately, your eyes meeting his gaze for the first time since entering you. 

He snapped his hips forward, filling you completely and pulled all the way out, his cock wet with your juices before fucking back into you. The heat of his skin searing your walls as you sank your nails into his shoulders. His lips found yours again, soft and warm. Your fingertips flipped across his back and you felt his cock throb within you. Each thrust had you clenching around him, clutching him tight to your body as he fucked you with slow, methodical strokes.

You tossed your head back, panting and crying out, clutching onto his hair, the back of his shirt, anything you could possibly muster. 

“Arms up baby,” he ordered and sat back, his cock still warming your sides. His hands held onto your hips, digging into the soft flesh as you shrugged your shirt off, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra and toss it off the bed. It landed into a sorry puddle on the floor along with your shirt and Ran’s jeans, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when you looked back and saw Ran in the middle of shedding his shirt off. 

“I always loved this tattoo,” you giggled, running your arms along the pattern before bringing him back down to your level, arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him down for another steamy kiss. 

You spread your legs wider apart and pressed down on his lower back to get him deeper inside you. His mouth travelled to your breasts where he started sucking on your nipples, biting down softly and nibbling on them. He slipped his hand beneath your body and grasped your clit, rubbing lightly in circles causing you to gasp loudly. You came apart in his arms, shattering into pieces and screaming his name in his ear. He pumped faster and harder, his hips slamming against yours as you tightened around his cock once more. His climax shot through him, thrusting every inch of his cum spilling inside of you. Every drop was heaven, you felt yourself tighten up once more and seconds later your orgasm arrived, intensifying everything. You dripped on his cock and held onto him so tight you swore there were permanent nail marks on the bone of his shoulder.

He pulled out and collapsed beside you, breathing heavily. Your muscles relaxed slightly and your eyes fluttered closed as he pulled you to lay close against him. He kissed your neck softly, stroking your thighs with his hands. 

“You alright?” he asked quietly.

“Mmmm. I’m amazing,” you hummed in agreement, resting your head against his chest and nuzzling against him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “I really missed you Ran.”

His eyes traced your face and he saw the genuinity in your eyes. “Me too baby.” He smiled softly and his hands slid down your bare back and cupped your ass, pulling you tighter against him. “Missed this too.”

He leaned in and kissed you on the lips. Anything you had to say melted away as you indulged in him, humming softly into his mouth before pulling away. 

~*~

The supermarket was busy and bustling as Mira walked through the aisles with her shopping cart. She had a whole list ready and was looking for the dairy aisle when she bumped into someone’s cart. “Sorry!” she apologised and gasped when she looked up and saw who it was. “Dona?”

Dona smiled at her and waved, putting her basket on the floor as Mira practically pounced on her, pulling her into a suffocating hug. 

“I thought I’d never see you again! What the hell?!” Mira pulled away and rested her hands on Dona’s shoulders, practically buzzing with excitement. “You look so good!”

“Oh stop,” Dona pushed her hands off her shoulders. “You’re still so damn energetic, it’s crazy.” She put her hands in her pocket. “What’s up though. What’re you shopping for?”

“Oh this stupid party Naoto wants me to host for his cop buddies.” Mira sighed and walked back to her cart. “I love Naoto but fuck, those damn cops are so annoying.”

“Really?” Dona asked, grabbing her shopping list. “Wouldn’t expect nothing more from a buncha cops. I’m surprised you’re even with one to be honest. Thought you hated them.”

“I do!” Mira said, hiding her face behind her hands while laughing. “No but Naoto’s…different.”

Dona stared blankly at her. “Different…?”

“Yeah! He’s not like those backwards, misogynistic asshole cops. He’s so sweet and treats me like a queen and he’s so sweet! Oh my god! He does this cute thing in the mornings and brushes my hair out of my face and whispers “good morning beautiful” in my ear every morning. I pretend I’m asleep just so I can hear him say it and he kisses me goodbye before work and—”

“Okay I get it! Sheesh, rub in your relationship more in my face would you?” Dona sighed and picked up her basket, following next to Mira as she began walking with her trolley. 

“I can’t believe you’re still single! Guess he really broke your heart, huh?”

“Don’t even talk about him right now. Fuck Shuji. That fucking asshole.”

Mira laughed. “That was like what, ten years ago? You need to let that go.”

“I’m trying! Okay?! But my minds been occupied with…stuff.”

Mira stopped by the meat aisle and began searching for some chicken breast. “Stuff or someone?”

“Someone as in a boy?” Dona asked and Mira nodded, checking the back of the package before dumping it into the trolley. “No, I'm not seeing someone.”

“You should.”

“I’m good.”

“You used to be so boy crazy! What happened?”

Dona shrugged and looked down at the floor for a short moment, biting the soft tissue of her cheek. “I just grew up I guess. Anyway, this party thing. When is it?”

“Tomorrow night. I have to cook for a bunch of weirdo cops. Not looking forward to it.” Mira paused for a moment and then gasped. “You should come with me!”

Dona blinked at her. “What?”

“Yes! Oh my god please please please. I’ll need someone to keep me company.” She clung onto Dona’s arms as she begged. “I’m so sick of all the other cops' wives. They’re all judgemental and yucky and like three times my age. Definitely jealous of my youth.”

Dona laughed and Mira pouted, hoping it’ll be enough to convince her. With a final sigh, Dona finally gave in. “Fine. But only for two hours. I have work.”

“Really? What do you work as?”

“I uh…it’s complicated.”

“At least you have a job. I’m just known as Naoto’s wife and stay at home all day. Maybe I could come visit you on your free days?”

“It’s oof.” Dona thought about it for a moment. “I can take you to a club I work at whenever you’re free. Sometimes we gamble and stuff. You wanna join?”

“Gambling…? I thought that was illegal.”

“Never stopped us back in the day.” Dona winked, playing around and watched the conflict flicker all over her face. “It’ll be a little secret. You don’t have to tell Naoto anything.”

“Of course I won’t! I may be marrying a cop but I’m not a snitch. Especially on my best friend. I’m just worried about what Naoto would think about me going to a gambling club. He’d definitely lock the place up, haha.”

Dona rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to tell him anything. You’re allowed to have secrets.”

“Legal secrets, yeah.”

“Come onnnnnnnnn. Join me! It’ll be fun, I promise. I’ll even invite (Name) over.”

Mira’s face lit up even more. “Really?! She can come!?

“She fuckin’ better come.” 

“Oh my god the gang's back together!” Mira chirped and jumped before pulling Dona into a big hug. “I can’t wait! Lemme go text (Name) right now!”

“You go do that.” Dona checked her phone. “I gotta go anyway. My boss wants me to clock in now.” She pulled Mira in for another hug. “I’ll see you as soon as I can, okay.”

“Okay, bye bye!”

When Dona left the store, she quickly typed a message to you before entering her car and driving off.

~*~

“Are you busy tomorrow?” you asked hesitantly.

Ran laughed softly. “I’m working tomorrow. Probably be gone for most of the day.” He shifted onto his back and laced his arms behind his head. You propped yourself onto your side and frowned. “What’s wrong baby.”

You shrugged and looked downwards at the mattress, speaking in a quiet voice. “I dunno, I'm just lonely. And bored. I don’t really have anything to do lately.”

He ran his thumb down your cheekbone. “You wanna come with me?”

“Depends. Do I have to witness a murder?”

He grinned widely. “If everything goes well tomorrow night then there’ll be no murder.”

You snorted. “So there’s still a possibility, huh?”

“People die everyday,” he mused and you looked at him with a serious face, pursing your lips together and he sighed. “Fine. Fine. Even if things go to shit tomorrow I promise I won’t kill anybody. I’ll…think of other things.”

“Good enough for me.” You leaned in to kiss him again but stopped short when your phone buzzed. You groaned and reached behind you, fumbling for it on the dresser, bringing it up and reading the text from Mira and Dona. 

Mira: I RAN INTO DONA AT THE SUPERMARKET AND SHE WANTS TO HANG OUT TOMORROW!!!! ARE YOU FREE?

Dona: got mira to come to the club. Be there tomorrow at 7

“Oh fuck,” you muttered under your breath. 

“What’s wrong?” Ran leaned his head on your shoulder and read the text message. 

“Guess I won’t be following you to work tomorrow then,” you said, turning your phone off. You looked over at the heavyweight on your shoulder and rested your head against his. “I’m seeing Mira tomorrow. So I guess you know what that means?”

“Is this about that stupid plan you made with Sanzu?” He asked, pulling away from your head, reaching inside his drawer for a cigarette. You nodded and watched him light the end and shifted back on the bed, bringing the covers over your naked body to cover you. 

“You know about that plan?”

“Little bit.” He lit the cigarette and tossed the lighter back into the drawer. “If it’s not affecting me or any of my business, I don’t care enough to ask more.”

“It’s not affecting you? This Naoto dude?” you asked, trying to get a bigger picture.

“I mean he is, but I’m careful. He’s not catching me anytime soon.”

“Still cocky as ever huh,” you said and he grinned widely around his cigarette. “Anyway I hate the plan a lot. But it's for Hiro's benefit and I’m willing to do anything for him. Even if it means fucking up Mira’s marriage and her fiance’s career forever.”

Ran could feel like there was something up with you and eyed you for a moment. To anyone it was clear the plan was bugging you and as much as you tried acting cool about it, he could tell the guilt was slowly eating you inside. He exhaled cigarette smoke out before putting it on the ashtray beside his bed, shifting back against the bedframe and opened his arms for you to fit in. “C’mere.”

You looked at him and his open arms and shifted forward, crawling the distance between you both and rested between his arms. He enclosed them around you, the side of his face resting against your forehead.

“Do you need some advice from me or want me to shut up and stay silent?” he asked for a moment.

You let out a silent laugh and nodded. “Advice please.”

“Okay.” He cleared his throat and began speaking. “Sometimes in life you gotta do bad shit. Even if you don’t wanna.” He finished talking and you waited a couple seconds for him to continue. 

You were confused when he unwrapped his arms around you and slid off the bed, putting his boxers back on and stretching. 

“What the hell? Is that it Ran?”

“Yeah.” He walked over to his closet and began rummaging for tomorrow’s outfit.

“What kind of advice was that?!” You groaned, stopping your eyes from rolling back. “Sometimes I forget how useless you are.”

“Temper baby,” he responded back, flicking through the range of suits and blazers hung in his closet. You took a moment to admire his closet, impressed with his collection of suits, ranging in different colours and couldn’t help but imagine anybody but Ran pulling it off.

He found an old dress hung up and tossed it in your direction. “Try this shit on for me.” 

The dress landed on your face and you grimaced and pulled it off. Holding it up in the air, you examined it, front to back. “Why the hell do you even have a dress? It’s so small it can’t even fit me!”

“Some girl must’ve left it over,” he said casually, picking out a purple form fitting suit from the hanger and left it on the edge of his bed. All forms of amusement on your face slowly melted at the mention of another girl and you deadpanned in his direction, but he missed it as he began changing back into his clothes. “Does it fit you?” he asked, fitting his shirt over his head.

“Don’t tell me you expect me to wear this? I’m not wearing some recycled dress.”

“You want me to buy you a new dress?” he asked, looking at you.

“Duh.”

He knelt down on the edge of the bed and grabbed the dress, tossing it towards the end of the bed. Your complaint was cut short when he grabbed your ankle and tugged, successfully tipping your back onto the mattress as he inched forwards, climbing over you. His hands laced between yours and you looked up at him, wide eyed. 

“I wonder what it’ll take to get rid of this attitude of yours, hm.” You tried to struggle out of his grip but your attempts were pointless. 

“I don’t have an attitude.”

“Yeah you do. Now ask nicely and I’ll get you what you want.”

You bit down on your tongue and swallowed your pride before lowering your voice to a whisper. “Can you buy me a dress?”

“Can’t hear youuu,” he leaned his ear down lower to your mouth to hear better. “Use your words.”

“You heard me. I’m not saying it again.”

He pulled away and stood up from the bed. “Baby steps. But fine. I’ll take you shopping tomorrow.”

“Not tomorrow. I’m busy.”

“When are you free then?”

“Any day that’s not tomorrow.” You stood up from the bed. “But I’ll probably have to see you tomorrow if you’re going to be at the club Dona sent me.”

“Maybe.” He pulled you closer for a hug. Your arms wrapped around his midsection and you dug your face in his chest, enjoying how big and warm he was. 

“Can I stay over tonight?” you asked after a moment, looking up at him. 

“You’re gonna be home alone though. I’m not coming back till late.”

“How late?” He pulled his arms away from you. “Dunno. Maybe three? Four?”

“Jesus what the hell do you do all day?”

“Don’t worry.” He booped your nose and you scrunched it in response. “Get some sleep okay? I can see your damn eye bags.”

“Fine. Goodnight and thanks for letting me stay.” You got into bed, grabbing the big warm sheets and covering your whole body. 

“Anytime baby.”

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