#How good it feels to be reminded of your agency

[welcometogrouchland]

Lmao was watching the fight scene between Luz and Belos in YBOS and the lines that stuck out to me were "okay, I'll play" and "go be a hero".

Because both are spoken with a bit of amusement and condescension, which is appropriate when you realise that, in Philips mind, his little genocide plot and especially the detour with the Clawthorne sisters in s1 really is a bit of a game to him. A game that's important to him, that he's determined to win, but a bit of a game nonetheless.

Like, he doesn't see any of the isle's inhabitants as people, he's framed the whole thing as a game to the collector to get them to help him, he's essentially been continuing his childhood game of witch hunters this whole time on a bigger scale, complete with a "Caleb" and everything.

And then the line "go, be a hero" is SOOO funny to me, because the reason he's so dismissive of Luz is because, in his mind, he's the hero of this story. No one else, not even the other human, him. He's painting Luz and naïve and delusional here for thinking she's doing any good WHEN THAT'S EXACTLY HOW HE THINKS. Get a load of this guy!!!

[sincerelybubbles]

"oh i could never date bakugo because he's too mean"

to you? mean? oh, darling, no.

the second bakugo confirms that you're his and his only, it's a one way ticket to being spoiled beyond anything you could imagine. his fight to be the best hero translates line for line into your relationship.

it's "whatever you want" mumbled after every question, it's "the fuck you think you're doing?" when you try to lift a finger toward your wallet, and it's "you drive me insane" with a scowl and smiling eyes, tugging you closer by the hip to soften his words.

trust me, you can't even go a day without him showing up in your relationship in some way. he's working late at his agency, swamped with paperwork? you're greeted in the morning with what seems to be the entire stock of the local flower shop down the street. he's sent away for a week on a mission? when your phone isn't buzzing with texts updating you (nothing too flowery, but it's enough to remind you he's thinking of you), you're eating food he's meal prepped for you or had delivered to your door. it's sunday? he's shoving your drink of choice under your nose and insisting that you spend at least an hour longer in bed.

if you're also a hero, on the streets fighting alongside him, he respects you above any other hero. if you're at home, in college or working in some other career, he's bragging to his sidekicks about how "fucking cool" whatever you're working on currently is.

and then there's the way he would never leave you with any doubts. does he suck at communicating his feelings directly? yes. without hesitation, yes. but he's there and he's blushing and spitting out assurances of his care for you until you're able to soften his jaw with time, he's never shying away from touching you to make up for where his words lack, he's playing your favorite songs in the car without having to be asked and he's always jumping at any opportunity to make your life easier.

(it helps, of course, that you spoil him tenfold by being there for him, holding his hand when nightmares prevent any further touches in the middle of the night and smiling so sweetly at him when he walks through the door to see you. i mean, how could he not adore the only person who sticks around and peeks past the vulgarity of who he is to see the good he fights so hard to maintain? something about you makes him feel human, worth emotion, worth love. he's willing to do whatever it takes to be "the fucking best at this boyfriend shit")

[punkshort]

Swept Away | Epilogue: Smooth Sailing

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Your new job at The Parador allows for some exciting perks.

Chapter Warnings: language, angry!joel, oral (m!receiving), smut (18+ MDNI), office sex, unprotected piv sex (reader has implant now as previously mentioned, we're safe), spanking, praise kink, mentions of substance abuse (not Joel or reader)

WC: 6.1K

Series Masterlist

Ten Months Later

It was still surreal sometimes to walk into an office with your name and Creative Lead printed on a nameplate next to your door, but after a handful of months, you were beginning to feel like less of an imposter.

Admittedly, it wasn't the type of job you had been applying for. You tried to use your experience as a production assistant to get your foot in the door with a talent agency, but you weren't having any luck. When Joel offered you the job in his marketing department, you didn't think you were qualified for it, but after discussing the duties with Caroline Harris, the creative director, you discovered your background would be well suited for the job. He must have known you would have instantly taken a liking to her because after a few more days of soul searching, you accepted the offer.

It felt strange in the beginning, and sometimes you still felt paranoid other employees were looking at you like you didn't deserve your success, but you felt confident all the hard work you did in the past several months spoke for itself.

And as it turned out, you were actually really fucking good at your job.

You left your office door cracked and set your things down on top of the chest of drawers behind your desk. Smoothing down your simple, grey dress that fell just above the knee, you sat down with a sigh in your leather chair and booted up your computer. While you waited for it to turn on, you sipped your coffee and glanced at your phone.

Zoe: Remember to call me later, I have news! I'm dating someone new!

You grinned and tapped out a quick response, promising to call before it got too late on the East Coast. Zoe never found out the truth about you and Joel, but you figured by now it didn't matter much. As far as she knew, you were still planning the "wedding", but it was just delayed until the hotel was built in Fiji, meaning you had a decent chunk of time to come up with another cover.

You saw a flash on your computer screen, indicating the monitor was up and running, so you placed your phone down to type in your password, then gasped excitedly when you were reminded of a Zoom call you had scheduled with Ellie.

Even though hiring Ellie wasn't technically your idea, Joel told Caroline it was because as he had told you at the time, he wouldn't have given her a second thought had you not been so taken with her work. So Caroline put you in charge of overseeing her progress, as well as a few other things for the new hotel.

It had been almost a month since you last spoke to Ellie and you were thrilled to get an update. The little video popped up, briefly displaying her name before she turned her camera on. You grinned from ear to ear when you finally saw her, specks of paint adorning her face and hair.

"How are you still up? Isn't it, like, three in the morning?" you asked.

"Yeah, but you know I do all my best work at night," Ellie replied before flipping the camera around so you could see her studio. There were a few drop cloths down, splashed with all sorts of colors of paint, and about six easels, all of which held paintings in different stages.

"Don't look at those yet, they aren't done," she said, and you laughed.

"You're the one in control of the camera, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled. You could hear her converse sneakers scuffing along the canvas drop cloth while she took you across the room. She flicked on a light and you gasped at the shock of color.

"Oh, my god!" you exclaimed.

"Man, I was feeling so inspired last week, I just couldn't stop. We had a little tropical storm blow through and it just created all these beautiful scenes. Like, beauty amongst the wreckage, you know?" Ellie was saying as she slowly walked around the room, panning the camera to each painting so you could get a good look.

"Oh, wow. Ellie... these are stunning. You've made such incredible progress, I'm so impressed!"

She finished her lap around the room and there was a pause in the video before her face returned to the screen.

"Yeah, thanks. It's going really well. You know how nervous I was in the beginning, I didn't think I would be able to make the amount of paintings you were looking for, but at this rate I think I'll have them done ahead of schedule."

"Well, I always knew you could do it. You're so talented and you see things in such a different way than everyone else. I swear, your work is going to make the hotel really stand out," you gushed before taking a long sip of coffee.

"You gotta thank Joel again for me," Ellie said, flicking off the light and heading back into the main part of her studio. "The amount of money he's paying me is keeping my bills paid so I can focus entirely on this."

"I will. I'm sure I'll see him later this afternoon. He'll be so happy to hear about all your progress."

"I'll take a few pictures and text them to you before I go to bed. That way, he can see for himself," she promised.

"That sounds perfect. Is there anything else you need? How's Dina?"

You spent the rest of your thirty minutes catching up with her about her girlfriend, laughing as she told you how Dina finally wore her down and they adopted a cat. Just as she was telling you how the cat stepped in some paint and walked across one of her paintings, she yawned.

"Go get some sleep. We'll touch base again next month but in the meantime, if anything comes up, you know how to reach me."

She gave you a little wave before ending the call and you sat back in your chair, your office filled with silence once again.

The rest of your morning was spent reviewing potential candidates for a pianist position in the hotel lobby. On one screen you had a video of a candidate playing and on the other, their resume and list of references. All of them were natives from Fiji, just like Joel had promised Glenn.

By noon, you had whittled down the candidates to your top five. You were making a little pile with your notes written on bright pink post-it's when you heard a gentle knock on your door.

"Come in," you answered distractedly.

"Hey... busy?" Liam said. You looked up and smiled before shaking your head and offering him a seat.

"Just getting some resumes ready for the pianist job. I have to set up some interviews after lunch. What's up?"

Liam sighed dramatically and collapsed into a chair.

"Your boyfriend is on a tear today, I needed a break," he said, curling his fingers into a loose fist so he could examine his cuticles.

"Why? What's going on?" you asked, setting down your pen, curiosity piqued.

"Well... first, Jack kicked his ass during his boxing lesson, which he always fucking hates," Liam said with a roll of his eyes. "Then he found out there was a delay in shipping the marble flooring, but I told him that shit's coming from Italy and it's custom!"

"He really hates when there's any delays in construction," you said, wrinkling your nose. You had seen your fair share of his outbursts over the past few months as the hotel in Fiji slowly became a reality. Joel always said, Time is money, baby. The longer this takes, the less money I make.

"Then Tommy called to tell him some wood or... something... got damaged in a storm they had down there recently, so now he's waiting on another shipment from the states."

You buried your face in your hands at that point, knowing exactly the type of mood Joel was in just one floor above you. On one hand, you were always thrilled whenever Joel and Tommy spoke after they finally hashed things out and made amends six months ago. But on the other, you would have much preferred Tommy call with an update about his wife, Maria, or TJ, their son.

"And about ten minutes ago, Chrissy spilled his coffee," Liam finished, dropping his hand to his lap and crossing his legs. "Only saving grace was she spilled it on the floor and not on him."

You cringed when you imagined how stressed out poor Chrissy must have been in that moment. She was a trooper, you had to hand it to her. She had been Joel's secretary for almost three years and every time you saw her she looked more meek and frightened than the last time.

"So, what you're saying is I should surprise him and take him out to lunch."

Liam's face broke out with a huge grin and he lightly clapped his hands.

"Would you mind? I think it would really help. He's always so much easier to handle after he sees you." He was really laying it on thick now and you knew it.

"I already agreed, you can drop it," you laughed, locking your computer and grabbing your purse.

"It's not an act," Liam said, following you out the door towards the elevator. The floor was quiet, most employees likely out to eat already. "I mean, yeah, maybe sometimes I try to flatter you into helping us out, but I'm serious. It's like you're chamomile tea on legs."

You arched an eyebrow at him when the elevator doors slid open. "Chamomile tea?"

"Is a tranquilizer dart better? Or lion tamer?"

You pursed your lips, thinking it over when you pressed the button to his floor. "Yeah. I like lion tamer."

Liam laughed and pulled out his phone to check his texts.

"This is perfect timing. He's about to wrap up a meeting and he doesn't have another one until two." Liam slid his phone back into his pocket and gave you a pleading look. "Please feel free to take your time."

"Oh, come on! He can't be that bad," you said with a hand on your hip. The doors opened up and let you out onto the executive floor, on the opposite side of the building from Joel's office, which is why it was so impressive you could hear him shouting from where you stood.

"Is the door open?" you asked quietly.

"Nope," Liam replied, giving you a look that said I told you so.

You swallowed nervously then lifted your chin with confidence as you made your way past the conference room towards his office. When Chrissy spotted you, she practically jumped out of her chair.

"Oh, my god, thank you," she whispered, her curly brown hair bouncing across her forehead with every step she took. She clasped her hands together and held them tightly against her chest.

"Don't thank me yet, I haven't done anything," you replied, but gave her a reassuring smile anyway. "Why don't you guys go to lunch? I'll take it from here."

The speed in which they tore out of the office was Olympic level.

You perched on the edge of Chrissy's desk as you waited for Joel's meeting to be over. Through the door, you could hear some voices through his phone, as well, one of which you recognized as the project manager for the hotel in Fiji. You looked down at your hands, ignoring the raised voices in the next room, and stared down at the huge diamond ring on your right hand. Splaying your fingers wide, you admired the way the light caught the little facets of the diamond, smiling a little when you saw rainbow flecks dot the walls of the mostly empty floor.

Ages ago, Joel had asked you to keep the ring he got you to use in Fiji. You nearly had a heart attack until he realized how it looked and he nervously clarified he wasn't asking you to marry him, just that he felt the ring was always yours and he couldn't bring himself to return it, so he bought it.

You smiled to yourself when you thought back on that day. It was just after he finally said I love you for the first time. It was a little ridiculous to think he would be asking you to marry him when it took him months to say those three words, but your heart still skipped a beat in that half a second of confusion.

After your pulse slowed, you accepted it with an awkward laugh, putting it on your right hand where it had remained ever since. You knew there was no use arguing with him about gifts and money anymore. When he bought you something, he was relentless until you took it.

Actually, you've grown to kind of like it.

Or, maybe you just liked the idea of Joel thinking about you when you weren't around.

Through the door, you heard the phone call cut with a terse farewell and then, the tell-tale rustle of men's dress pants with the clearing of throats. One man was still talking, his voice forcibly calm as he assured Joel that he would get back to him by the end of the day with the correct numbers on some payroll report, and then the door swung open. Men poured out, some hurrying past you without even realizing you were there, their faces red and their jaws clenched. The ones that did notice you gave a quick nod of acknowledgement before hurrying away, as if they were afraid Joel would remember he had one or two more biting comments and call them back in.

When the last of the men filed out, you heard Joel bark, "Shut the door," and then the creak of his leather chair under his weight. A man you vaguely recognized pulled the door shut behind him before spotting you. He was frazzled and exhausted when he exhaled and loosened his tie.

"Good luck," he said, and you laughed softly. You watched as the last of the men filed towards the elevators, their padfolios and phones overflowing in their hands as they shuffled onto the car and disappeared behind the closed doors.

The floor was quiet now. Joel's office was the only one with a light on.

Biting back a smirk, you pushed off Chrissy's desk and straightened your dress before rapping your knuckles on his door.

"What the fuck now?" came Joel's sharp voice from the other side. You pushed the door open and crossed your arms, waiting until he dragged his gaze up from his desk. When he realized it was you, his expression instantly softened and he stood.

"Sorry," he grumbled.

"It's okay," you replied, stepping inside the room, shutting the door behind you. Joel rounded the desk and raked his fingers through his hair. You bit your lower lip, gaze quickly drifting down his broad frame. He was wearing a white dress shirt with his dark grey suit, the coat abandoned over the back of his chair. It was the first time you had seen him since you left him asleep in bed early that morning.

"What's goin' on, baby?" he asked as he crossed the room to pour himself a drink. You made a face at the amber liquid and he swiveled around, raising the glass of whiskey in your direction.

"Want one?"

"No, Joel. It's barely noon. I came to see if you wanted to get lunch, but I'm guessing today's not the best day," you said, closing the distance between you to smooth down the front of his shirt with your palms. He lifted the glass to his lips and tossed the drink back in one go before setting it down on the bar and wrapping his big hands around yours, pressing them firmly to his chest.

"'M sorry, not havin' a great day."

"I can tell."

"You hear all that?" he murmured, bringing one of your hands up to his mouth. His lips brushed over your knuckles as he gazed at you through tired, heavy eyes and you smiled. Moments ago, those eyes were firey and filled with rage.

But not when he looked at you.

"Some of it," you admitted. "What's wrong?"

Joel exhaled through his nose and dropped his hands to your hips, giving them a little squeeze and pulling you closer. "You weren't there when I woke up this mornin'."

You rolled your eyes playfully at him and he gently pinched your side.

"I told you I had to get up early so I could get ready for work-"

"'N I told you to bring your stuff over last night," he countered.

"Joel, I hadn't been home in days. I needed to make sure the place was still standing and water my plants."

Then, he said something that sent shockwaves through your whole body.

"Just move in with me, then it ain't a problem anymore."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you forgot to breathe for a moment.

"What?" you asked breathlessly. But Joel just shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Move in with me," he repeated. "Plants, too."

"Y-you... you want me to move in with you? Like, permanently?" you repeated in disbelief. Joel smirked down at you and nodded.

"Yeah, like, permanently. The hell you think I mean? Get rid of that place, you know I don't like that neighborhood," he said, then lifted his chin when he heard his email program chime somewhere behind you.

"Joel... are you sure? That's a big step for you," you replied, feeling completely knocked sideways by his blunt request. Sure, he had the room. His house was the closest you'd ever come to being inside a mansion. Hell, to you it was a mansion. Six bedrooms and four bathrooms with an in-ground pool, tennis court, steam room and gym was only ever something you'd seen on television. But living in Los Angeles told you there were plenty of houses three times the size of his.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I want you with me all the time," he said, kissing your cheek before leaving you by the bar so he could check his email.

"My stuff, too? I can't imagine my shitty television in your house," you joked. Joel just nodded, his eyes pinned to his computer screen.

"Your stuff, too. I want all a'you. Even your coffee pot."

Joel collapsed angrily into his high back chair to answer the email while you sneakily slid back to the door, quietly flicking the lock before slowly walking towards his desk. You knew most people were at lunch, but you still didn't want to risk it for what you had in mind.

"Okay," you said softly, hip pressing against the hard wood, fingers nervously digging into the complex design carved into the edge.

"Okay, what?" he murmured, focus still fixed on the email. You watched his scowl deepen the more he read and you knew he was slipping back into that mood you found him in earlier.

"Okay... I'll move in with you."

His eyes snapped up to yours and for a moment, the scowl smoothed out into a pleased grin.

"Good. Start packin' tonight. Don't wanna be wakin' up anymore without you," he said, then his eyes dropped back down to his email. "Messes up my whole day when I do."

You giggled and rounded the desk, intentionally slotting yourself between his eyes and the computer.

"Is that why you're up here screaming at everyone? 'Cause you woke up without your sugar baby?"

Joel leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes at you.

"Quit it. You ain't a sugar baby."

"Didn't answer my question."

Joel laced his fingers together and dropped them in his lap with a sigh. "Sure didn't help."

You gave him a fake pout and leaned forward, hands bracing yourself on each arm of his chair. "I'm so sorry," you whispered, mouth hovering over his as you spoke. You could see his muscles tighten under his shirt when he heard the seductive tone in your voice. "Want me to suck your dick and make it all better?"

The corner of his mouth tugged into a devilish half-smirk, email long forgotten.

"Feels like it's the least you could do," he replied, his voice deep and gravelly. It sent a shiver down your spine and you grinned.

"The least I could do? What else do you want?" you asked before allowing your lips to brush delicately over his. You could taste the whiskey there and you licked your lips.

"Wanna bend you over this desk and fuck you. Hard."

A soft moan slipped past your lips right before his mouth crashed into yours. His tongue opened your mouth, licking feverishly past your teeth, giving you a stronger taste of the whiskey and mint from the gum he was likely chewing in anger during the meeting.

"I think that can be arranged," you gasped when you pulled away from his kiss. His dark eyes lit up when you sunk to your knees, his legs spreading wider when you began to unbuckle his belt. Two fingers rubbed against his lips, hiding his smile while he watched you pop the button on his slacks and slowly work the zipper down.

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest when you dipped your fingers past his waistband and felt the stiffness of his cock hiding just underneath a thin layer of fabric. Your eyes flickered up to meet his and with a sly smile, you said, "Hard already?"

Joel shrugged with a shit-eating grin.

"Been hard since you walked in the goddamn room, baby."

You bit back a smile, chest bursting with pride and, yeah, it turned you on to be the one who made this big, scary man all soft and weak. Rubbing your thighs together, you inched forward to gently pull his stiff cock over the top of his underwear.

You tutted under your breath and frowned, both of you watching your hand slowly slide up and down his shaft.

"Poor thing," you murmured, smiling when you heard his breath stutter after your thumb swiped over the bead of arousal pooling at the tip. "Look at you. All worked up and angry the whole morning when all you needed to do was call me. I would've come up to help you."

Joel gasped, fingernails digging into the padded leather armrests when he felt your fingers tighten around him.

"Then fuckin'... goddamnit - fuckin' help me now. C'mon, quit teasin' me and suck it," he commanded through clenched teeth.

You raised an eyebrow at him and your hand paused.

"Say please."

"Please," he whined without hesitation. The sound made you weak, eyelids fluttering for a second before you shook it off and met his gaze again.

"Good boy."

He smirked down at you, some snappy response on the tip of his tongue but it disappeared when your wet lips wrapped around him, tongue darting forward to flick teasingly at his slit, all while maintaining eye contact.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, allowing his eyes to close and his head to tip back when you took him deeper into your mouth. Before he reached the back of your throat, you swirled your tongue around his girth, moaning when you tasted a new drop of precum.

"Yeah, baby, just like that," he murmured when his hand found a new home on the back of your head. Carefully, he urged you down, hissing when you hollowed your cheeks and took him as deep as you could handle. Joel forced his eyes to open so he could admire the pretty little mess he made of you. Your lips were swollen and wet, stretched wide over his considerable length while you focused on keeping your breath steady and your gag reflex in check.

He could have came from the sight alone.

You pulled back with a gasp, saliva pooling around the corners of your mouth as you dragged in deep lungfuls of air. Your hand picked up where your mouth left off, twisting your wrist and spreading the wetness up and down his shaft as you caught your breath for a second.

"You taste so good, Joel," you whispered, locking eyes with him again. "Might just have you come down my throat, instead."

Before he could answer, your lips were wrapped around him again, sucking and moaning around his cock like it was the sweetest thing in the world.

"No," he rasped, fingers tightening their hold in your hair. "Wanna - fuck you," he added with a deep groan. Even though he knew he shouldn't, he let you keep going, his hips involuntarily bucking up towards your mouth as he spoke.

Right when you began to get carried away, your head bobbing faster and your wrist flicking quicker, he yanked you off with a shared gasp.

"Sorry," he apologized, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before reopening them. "Too close."

You stood up, thumb swiping your lower lip with a cocky grin. Then, Joel watched as you shimmied out of your panties, dropping them in his lap before hiking up the skirt of your dress to your mid-thigh.

"Whenever you're ready, sir."

He chuckled darkly and stood, thighs trembling for just a quick moment before he swiveled a finger in the air.

"Turn 'round."

You did as you were told, palms pressed flat against the top of his desk, tilting your hips back so your ass jutted out, just barely covered by your dress.

With one hand he pulled the material up, exposing you to the tinted windows behind him. His other hand came down with a sharp smack across your skin, the action so fast and unexpected that it took you a few seconds to register it.

"Again," you whispered over your shoulder, this time bracing for the hot sting of pain across your ass. When he gave it to you, you moaned, arousal pulling tight between your legs, then you dropped your head limply between your shoulders as the pain blossomed into pleasure.

"That's my girl," he growled in your ear. His knee pushed your legs open and you held your breath when he leaned back to slide his cock through your folds before lining himself up at your opening.

"Breathe, baby," he whispered, and you let out a shaky breath right as he pushed inside.

"Shit," you panted, arching your back and digging your fingers into the dark wood of his desk while he continued to ease inside of you, muscles only relaxing when he finally buried himself to the hilt and his lips returned to the shell of your ear.

It wasn't the first time he fucked you in his office. In fact, both of you were very eager to take advantage of the new situation only a week into the start of your job. But it didn't matter how many times you'd done it because it was still always a thrill. There was something incredibly hot about this powerful man fucking you on his desk. Or his couch. Or his chair.

Or one time on the conference room table long after close of business.

Joel set a quick pace right away, knowing full well your time was limited before people began to return from lunch and inevitably came looking for him. One hand remained firmly on your hip while the other drifted up to squeeze your breast through your dress, fingers giving your nipple a little pinch just so he could hear you whimper for him.

"Always ready for me, ain't you?" he groaned, teeth grazing over your earlobe. His breath was shallow, soft pants against your skin matching the rhythm of his hips. "Christ, baby. So fuckin' wet. You love takin' my cock like this, huh? Or was it me askin' you to move in that did it?"

"Both," you moaned, tossing your head back to rest on his shoulder, eyes gliding shut and mouth falling open as you focused on the intense pace he set. The tip of his cock brushed steadily against that spot inside you that had your knees going weak and you could feel that warmth in your stomach turning into fire the harder he fucked you.

Joel's eyes lifted to glance at his door when he heard the faint sound of voices filing off the elevator. Lunch hour was wrapping up, and so was your time. He clenched his jaw and pounded into you faster, the telltale sound of skin slapping against skin the only noise echoing in the room.

"I... locked it," you gasped, falling forward onto your elbows, hips sparking with pain against the hard wood of his desk. He grinned and straightened his spine, watching the way your ass rippled against him every time he slammed into you.

"Good. 'Cause no one gets to see you like this 'cept for me."

You nodded dumbly, unable to form words as your orgasm began to swell, threatening to destroy you. Your pussy started to pulse around him, stars littering your vision and you slapped your palm over your mouth to muffle the sound when you came.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he groaned, hips losing rhythm. Breath growing sharp. Fingers digging deep and eyes rolling to the back of his head. You whimpered when he pounded into you one last time, stilling as he pumped you full of his release, broken moans tumbling from his lips until he was spent.

Almost immediately, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you up and pressing you protectively against his chest.

"You okay?"

"Mhm," you hummed, admittedly still in a bit of a daze but you were starting to snap out of it. His ragged breath in your ear was all you could hear, his pounding heart against your back all you could feel, and it was enough.

Without warning, he slipped out of you, but kept his arms circled around your front, pressing sweet kisses behind your ear and down your neck. You melted into him, knowing how much he enjoyed holding you after, at least until he caught his breath and came back down to earth.

"I love you."

Those three words still managed to send a tingle down your spine and brought a lazy smile to your face.

"I love you, too," you whispered, twisting your neck so your mouth could seek out his. His beard was untamed and prickly against your lips, tickling you and making you giggle.

"C'mon, get yourself decent," he teased with a playful grin and a smack against your thigh. He stepped backwards to fix his clothes while you swiveled back and forth, searching the ground for your panties.

"Lookin' for these?" he asked, holding them up between two fingers when you turned around. You reached out to grab them but he pulled them back, shoving them in his pocket before tucking in his shirt.

"You're gonna make me walk around the rest of the day without underwear? With your come dripping out of me?" you asked. You already resigned yourself to your fate and pulled down the skirt of your dress.

Joel pinched your chin and pressed a quick kiss against your lips.

"Yep. Just the way I like you."

"Dirty man."

"Just the way you like me," he laughed, dodging your hand when you reached out to smack him against the arm.

You opened your mouth to say something back when his desk phone chimed and the red light in the corner lit up. Joel finished buckling his belt and glanced up at you to make sure you had fixed yourself before pressing the intercom button.

"Yeah?"

Chrissy's nervous voice filtered through the speaker.

"Mr. Miller, just confirming your dinner reservation for tonight. Still expecting three people?"

"Yep," he replied, then thought about it for a quick second before pressing the button again. "Thanks, Chrissy. Why don't you take off early, after my two o'clock?"

You grinned, practically sensing her shock through the wall as you sat down in the chair opposite his desk.

"Uh... okay. T-thank you so much!"

"No problem," he said, then the red light turned off and he slumped down tiredly into his leather desk chair.

"Where are we going tonight?" you asked, crossing one leg over the other while you watched him shake his computer mouse back to life.

"Sarah picked this time. Some Mexican spot she wanted to try," he murmured, already fixating on an email in front of him. After some encouragement on your end, Joel had reached out to Sarah around the same time he called Tommy for the first time in years. While things had been rocky and awkward at first, it got easier over time. Eventually, they committed to dinners every other week, and after maybe the fourth one, Sarah had asked to meet you.

You were nervous leading up to it, but the moment you met you knew you'd get along. She was smart, beautiful, funny and had the same smile as her dad. She told you both a little bit about high school but preferred to talk about her soccer team or the play she was trying out for.

She didn't mention her mom much, and you didn't want to pry. From what Joel had mentioned, her mother ended up having some substance abuse issues in the past, which caused a strain on her relationship with Sarah. He felt horrible when he found out, told you that he felt like he should have been involved more to protect her, but you reminded him that he was there for her now and that you were proud of him for stepping up.

Despite it all, Sarah was a great kid. Every time you saw her, she opened up a bit more, smiled wider and laughed louder. After your dinners together, you could see the change in Joel: he was happier, too.

"Sounds good. I like Mexican," you said, fidgeting with your ring while Joel quietly replied to an email. The scowl was gone, his shoulders were looser and there were no more angry taps on the keyboard.

You opened your mouth to announce you should get back to work when he suddenly spoke.

"Why're you wearin' the ring on your right hand?"

Your eyes flickered up to his face but he looked like he was still absorbed in an email.

"This ring?" you asked, holding up your hand. It was the only ring you wore but you didn't know what else to say. You'd been wearing it on your right hand for months and he never said a word.

"Yeah. You wore it on your other hand in Fiji," he said, tearing his eyes away from the computer to look at you.

You stood up from your seat and gave him a curious look. "We were pretending to be engaged then, if you recall. We're not engaged now."

Joel smirked, the corners of his mouth dipping down when he shrugged, then stood to walk you to the door.

"Huh. Suppose you're right. Someone oughta do somethin' 'bout that."

You threw your head back and laughed before coming to a stop at his door and turning around.

"You just asked me to move in with you. What happened to the commitment-phobe I fell in love with?"

He grinned and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close so he could press a gentle kiss against your lips.

"You're right. I'll wait a week," he joked, then gave your ass a little tap before opening his door for you. "Thanks for lunch," he added as you walked past Chrissy, who was mid-whisper to Liam, no doubt telling him about Joel's sudden burst of generosity. You gave them both a little wave and tossed a wink over your shoulder at Joel leaning against his doorway, hands shoved in his pants pockets with a sly smirk on his face after his fingertips grazed the wet fabric shoved in there.

"See you tonight."

"Can't wait," he said, watching you disappear around the corner towards the elevator bank.

"So, you ate?" Liam confirmed, holding a leather bound journal and pen in his hand as he approached Joel. Even though the answer was no, he still nodded in response. "Good, because I have a couple things," he continued after clearing his throat. "Ellie's painting arrived yesterday, I'm having it gift wrapped right now. I got a call back from the guy who's renting you the yacht. He's good for Saturday. The captain and crew know the deal, too. Drop the anchor, make the food, pour the champagne, and disappear after dinner's cleared up. They have a little boat they can take back to land so the yacht's all yours til morning."

A slow smile stretched across his face and he looked down the hall again, towards the elevator bank.

"Reschedule it for next week. I made a promise."

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[lunaa-runee]

Ryomen Sukuna gets a new nanny for his son.

Minors DNI. WC: 4.9K

CW: Noncurse AU, DILF!CEO!Sukuna, smut, creampie, implied multiple rounds, kinda mean Sukuna, Sukuna is not great with feelings, broken promises, Yuji is Sukuna's son, there will probably be a part 2 to this story

You glanced up from the crumpled slip of paper in your hand, which bore the address of your new employer. The sleek glass building loomed ahead, reflecting the sunlight in a dazzling display. The hum of the city filled the air, heightening the nervous flutter in your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you pushed through the heavy revolving door, entering this new chapter of your life.

As you entered, you spotted a security guard. He was in his 40s, wearing a simple uniform and donning a hat with bits of his salt and pepper hair sticking out at the bottom. The man offered you a slight smile and said, "Can I help you, ma'am?"

You nodded, "Yes, please. I’m here for Ryomen Sukuna.”

"Could I see your ID miss?" You pulled out your wallet, pulling out and handing over your ID to him. He examined the card silently, peering at you occasionally before turning his attention towards the computer. You nervously twiddled with your fingers as you waited. "Thank you miss l/n. You'll want to take the last elevator down the hall to the right. That is the only one that can take you to the penthouse. Mrs. Ono will meet you at the door."

He handed your ID back. "Okay, thank you."

"Of course, good luck miss. You're gonna need it," he whispered the last bit. His words made you hesitate, a sense of apprehension settling in your gut.

You found the elevator waiting for you. As you stepped inside, you pressed the button to take you to your destination. As the elevator began to rise, a wave of anticipation washed over you, and you instinctively rubbed your sweaty palms against the worn fabric of your jeans.

The elevator's ding announced your arrival, the doors opening to a breathtaking atrium. You stepped, your eyes taking in the stunning entry. A lofty ceiling with a domed skylight flooded the space with natural light. Exquisite stained glass cast colorful patterns on the cream-colored walls, creating an enchanting atmosphere like something from a Bridgerton book.

"Miss l/n?" Your eyes snapped to the double doors opposite the elevator. You had become so mesmerized that you hadn't even paid any attention to the large double doors that entered the residence. A sweet-looking woman in her late 40s or early 50s stood in the doorway. Her outfit was plain, with regular jeans and a tucked-in red polo, with black hair and a few white hairs slicked back into a tight bun. Her smile was genuine as she greeted you. "You're here! I was beginning to believe Mr. Sukuna had scared off every possible nanny the agency had to offer!"

You offer a quick bow. Her words remind you of the doorman's comments. How many nannies has this man employed? "Uh, yes. Hello. You must be Mrs. Ono?"

"I am!" The woman ushered you in, "Come in, please. I'm so happy you're here."

Entering the home, you are welcomed by a spacious entryway with high ceilings, similar to those outside. The apartment features a modern design, with a large staircase leading to the upper level on the right. Just beyond the stairs is the living room, which boasts floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city of Tokyo.

"Welcome! My name is Asami Ono, I am Mr. Sukuna's house keeper," she chuckled. "How about a tour?"

The tour went well, but the condo turned out to be larger than you had expected. It featured a spacious kitchen, living room, and dining room. There were four bedrooms, one of which was yours since you would live there as a nanny. The home was simply decorated and appeared staged, not lived-in. There wasn't even a single photo displayed.

On the tour, you discovered that Mrs. Ono was only meant to be a part-time housekeeper. However, with the sudden departure of the last nanny, she took on the temporary role of caring for Yuji, Ryomen Sukuna's son.

"And here," Ms. Ono paused at a door at the end of the hallway on the second floor. "Is your room."

She opened the door, revealing a spacious bedroom. You entered and placed your luggage by the door, taking in the room's appearance. The room had hardwood floors with a simple gray rug at its center. To the right was a plush queen-sized bed, and to the left was a door that led to a bathroom.

"You have your own bathroom, and Yuji's room is down the room across the hall. Do you have any questions?"

"When will Yuji and Mr. Sukuna arrive?"

"Yuji's at a friend's today. I thought it best that we get you settled in before you meet him," she said simply. "Yuji is a sweet boy, but he can be a handful. As for Mr. Sukuna, his work keeps him busy, but I am sure you'll cross paths with him eventually."

"I see," you hum. This wasn't the first job you had taken with parents that made themselves scarce; it was common in your work.

"Well, if you have no other questions, I will leave you to settle in." She nodded toward the desk in the corner of the room. "Everything you need to know, like Yuji's schedule and food preferences, is on the desk for you. I'll be downstairs preparing dinner if you need anything."

You spent the next couple of hours unpacking and familiarizing yourself with everything you needed to know about your newest client. There was little information about Mr. Sukuna that you didn't already know: he was a single dad and the CEO of a large corporation. Most of the information focused on his son, Yuji. The provided picture showed a young boy with pink hair and a bright smile. According to the schedule and details, he was just your average 4-year-old.

When you made your way downstairs, the sun had begun to set. A delicious and comforting aroma filled the air as you entered the kitchen. "It smells fantastic in here."

Mrs. Ono gave you a warm smile as she continued to stir the contents of the pot. "Good, I hope you're hungry."

"Mrs. Ono, I'm home."

Mrs. Ono wiped her hands on her apron and gave you a small smile before peeking her head around the corner toward the entryway. "Yuji," Mrs. Ono called out. "I have someone I'd like you to meet."

Yuji entered the kitchen, his eyes falling on you with interest. He paused; you could already see the whirlwind of questions he was bursting to ask you behind his bright eyes. "Hello, I'm Yuji."

"Hello Yuji," you crouched down, meeting him at his eye level before smiling. "My name is F/N L/N, but you can call me F/N if you would like."

Mrs. Ono patted Yuji's mop of pink hair as she spoke. "Yuji, this will be your new nanny."

Yuji tilted his head. "Do you like to paint?

"I love to paint," you giggled as you watched Yuji's expression transform into pure excitement, his smile bright as he buzzed with joy.

The evening unfolded smoothly. Mrs. Ono left shortly after dinner, eager to return home to her husband. Yuji was put to bed not long after that.

After spending a few more hours in your room, unwinding and watching a movie, you finally decide to call it a night. You go downstairs to the kitchen for a drink, noticing the light is still on as you go to the kitchen for a drink. Did you forget to turn it off before?

As you rounded the corner to enter the kitchen, you suddenly stopped. Leaning against the counter was a large man. His eyes were closed, and the back of his head rested against a kitchen cabinet. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, as he held a glass of whiskey in his right hand. You could see the black lines of tattoos peeking through his thin dress shirt, and you recognized the familiar shade of pink hair.

Was this Yuji's dad?

Lost in thought, you accidentally bumped into the side table by the kitchen entry. The man's eyes snapped to you.

"Who the hell are you?" he snapped, standing to his full height. His beautiful yet intimidating eyes burned into you from across the room. His lips pressed into a tight line as he waited for your response. "Well?"

You flinched at his harsh tone. "I-I'm the new n-nanny."

Setting down his drink, he saunters towards you. His eyes, intense and unwavering, never leaving you. He reminded you of a predator, and you were the prey.

"So you are my son's new nanny," he said, circling you. "Let's hope you're more competent than the last one."

The familiar beep of your alarm jerked you awake. How was it already morning? You had gotten very little rest, as your mind was filled with thoughts about your new employer—some less than pure thoughts.

With a groan, you threw your covers off your body to begin your day. 

The first thing you did was start the coffee. It would be a long day, and you needed every bit of energy you could get. The sound of the front door caught your attention just as you started breakfast. Conflicting emotions of excitement and a tinge of fear struck you at the possibility of Ryomen Sukuna rounding the corner.

“Hello,” disappointment floods you at the sound of Mrs. Ono’s voice. 

You shake off your disappointment, returning to your task at hand, before calling out to Mrs. Ono. “Hi. I’m in the kitchen!”

The older woman walked into the kitchen smiling, setting her bag on the counter. “Good morning, dear! How was your first night? Did everything go alright?”

“Yes,” you replied. “Yuji was perfect.”

“Ah yes, not surprising. He’s a good boy.”

You nod in agreement, but your thoughts wander to your peculiar encounter with Yuji's father. Despite the briefness of your interaction, you couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between father and son. "Mrs. Ono," you start, feeling uncertain. "Could you tell me more about Mr. Sukuna?"

Mrs. Ono raised a brow, “did something happen?”

"No," you replied almost too quickly, trying to avoid eye contact as you pretended to concentrate entirely on the pancakes you were making. "Well, kind of. I met him last night."

The air grew tense. At first, you were worried you had done something wrong.

“What did he do? Did he say something?��� Her normal cheerful tone shifted to something teetering on anger. Still, it was clear the anger was not directed towards you. The response confirmed your suspicions of a possible issue between Ryomen and the previous nannies. 

“He didn’t actually do anything,” you explain the brief interaction to her.

“That man,” she huffed. “Mr. Sukuna is a complicated man with very high standards, especially regarding his son. This has resulted in…difficulties in keeping a long term nanny for Yuji.”

“What kind of difficulties,” you inquire. A feeling of apprehension blooming. 

“If one thing goes wrong, the nanny would be out for some of the most ridiculous reasons. Things such as Yuji getting a scrapped knee at the park or Yuji being upset over something the nanny couldn’t control. Some have just quit, too, after meeting Mr. Sukuna. He can be a bit intimidating, as you can imagine, and temperamental.”

You could imagine. “Why is he so difficult then? How do you handle it?”

“Mr. Sukuna didn’t have it easy growing up, I’m afraid, but that’s all I can really say about that,” a pained expression on her face. “I've known him for many years, and I know under his tough exterior he is a good man who wants the best for his son.”

Your thoughts swirled at Mrs. Ono’s words, leaving you more curious about your employer. You peered at the clock; it was well past 7 a.m. now. “I should wake Yuji; I wouldn’t want him late for school.”

“Did you make pancakes?” You and Mrs. Ono looked at the kitchen entryway. There stood a sleepy-looking Yuji, still in his pajamas and clutching his teddy bear.

“We sure did,” you said with a significant smile, holding the stake pancakes. “Hope you’re hungry." 

Yuji's face brightened at the sight, and he rushed to his place at the table, eager to have breakfast.

You had developed a soft spot for Yuji in just two short weeks of working for the Sukuna's. He was a ray of sunshine in your eyes; his contagious optimism never failed to bring a smile to your face. Even at such a young age, Yuji displayed so much selflessness. He became your little helper, always going out of his way to help you with chores, cooking, shopping, etc.

“No,” Yuji laughed as he saw your version of a dog you had painted. 

“What do you mean no?” Tonight, you and Yuji were spending a night in, Yuji begging for an arts and crafts night. You had agreed to set up the kitchen table with paint, crayons, and glitter. The works, really.

“That’s not a dog!” He giggled, bringing his paintbrush to your canvas. “That looks like a yucky blob.”

You fake gasped as you clutched your chest. “Good sir, are you saying I’m horrible at painting?” He nodded, a shy giggle coming from the young boy. In one swift motion, you pulled Yuji into your lap, tickling his sides. The young boy laughed as he wiggled in your grasp. “Take it back.”

“No,” he yelled. 

The exchange continued until the sound of a cleared throat made you freeze. Standing in the entryway was Ryomen. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but his eyes had an unusual softness. You hadn't even noticed the door opening; how long had he been standing there?

“Daddy!” Yujji cheered as he sprung from your lap, launching at his father's legs, causing Ryomen to tense. “Daddy, miss l/n, and I were making some art. Can you come paint with me, please?”

“I’m not really a painter, Yuji,” his father responded.

“That’s okay, miss l/n isn’t very good either but she’s still painting!”

“Yuji,” you exclaimed.

Yuji snickered, a small huff escaping Ryomen’s lips. “Please daddy? Pretty please daddy,” Yuji begged. 

“Fine,” he sighed. Yuji cheered as he took his father’s hand, leading him to your table. 

Watching Ryomen Sukuna, a figure known for his massive and intimidating presence, sit cross-legged on the floor was a sight to behold. He was surprisingly gentle as he painted together with his son. This version of Ryomen contrasted sharply with his usual fierce demeanor.

This unexpected moment of tenderness was heartwarming. It took every ounce of restraint not to grab your phone and capture the scene before you.

“What,” Ryomen spat. “Do I have something on my face?”

Heat flooded your face as the tender moment came to an abrupt halt. You hadn’t even realized you were staring. Shaking your head, you said, “No. Sorry, sir.”

His lips moved into a smirk, eyes scanning your own work. “Tch. Yuji was right. You really can’t paint."

Like father like son.

What began as arts and crafts evolved into a movie as time passed. To your surprise, Ryomen chose to join in.

You had made a large bowl of popcorn for the three of you to share. You settled on one side of the couch while Ryomen took the other. About halfway through the movie, Yuji grew tired; it was well past his bedtime, so it was no surprise. He curled up on his side, his head resting on your lap and his feet touching his father's thigh.

As the end credits began rolling, you gently ran your fingers through Yuji's hair. "I guess it's bedtime," you whispered, turning your head to face Ryomen.

Your breath caught in your throat as you noted his intense stare. While there was no warmth in his features, something in his eyes hinted otherwise. “I should get Yuji to bed.”

“No,” he said firmly. You watched curiously as he stepped towards you, bending down to pluck Yuji from your embrace. “I’ll do it.”

You swallowed hard as you watched the two walk away before shaking yourself from the daze. There was still cleanup to do, and it seemed like a good distraction.

You were about halfway through washing the dishes when Ryomen walked in. “He’s in bed.”

“Good,” you spoke, not looking up. 

You expected him to leave, but to your surprise, he walked towards you, grabbed a rag, and began to dry the dishes. You started to protest, but Ryomen quickly hushed you, and a comfortable silence settled between you both.

It felt so domestic.

"Yuji seems happy," he spoke suddenly.

"He's a happy kid," you agree. "A good kid actually. He always wants to help everyone with everything."

"I don't know where he gets that from," Ryomen grunted as he dried the last dish. When you looked at each other, there was a heavy silence as your gazes met. Suddenly, Ryomen reached out, his warm hand cupping his cheek. His thumb delicately brushes under your eye. A surge of electricity coursed through you at the touch.

"You had paint." He pulled his hand back as he spoke but kept his gaze locked with yours. He moved closer to you, his warmth enveloping your body. You craved even more closeness from him, yearning for his touch and the chance to touch him in return. But just when you thought it might happen, he stepped away and cleared his throat. "It's getting late, you should probably get some rest."

"R-right," you agreed, embarrassed at your taboo thoughts. "Goodnight,".You quickly retreated to your bedroom, needing to create as much distance between yourself and Ryomen as possible.

Things changed after that night. Ryomen began to be around more, coming home occasionally in the evenings. Sometimes, he would join us for dinner or a movie. These visits were never planned; he would simply show up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Yuji as happy as he is now. With each interaction, you see Ryomen in a new light. The man you once thought was intimidating now shows a softer side with his son.

During these times, Ryomen's attitude towards you shifted as well. It wasn't uncommon that you would spy his eyes on you, that devilish smirk gracing his lips. Or when you would pass him something, his touch would linger, leaving you wanting more. And when Yuji was put to bed, Ryomen would always come down and help you tidy up no matter how much you protested.

It seemed so natural.  

As the weeks went by and the seasons shifted, the fall play approached. Yuji proudly announced that he had been cast as the Big Bad Wolf. Yuji was over the moon about it, and the next time he saw his dad, Yuji made him a pinky promise that he would go see him perform.

A few nights before the play, you sat at the kitchen table, putting the finishing touches on Yuji’s costume for the next day while sipping wine. Ryomen had come home for dinner and taken over Yuji’s nighttime routine, for which you were very grateful.

“Yuji’s asleep,” Ryomen said as he entered the kitchen. You hummed in response, watching him grab a glass of whiskey before sitting opposite you. As he sipped his drink, you couldn’t help but secretly admire the man before you. Even in his relaxed state, his presence was hard to ignore. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table while holding his drink in one hand. “The costume looks good,” he remarked.

“It better,” you snorted. “I’ve been working on it long enough.”

He chuckled. “He’s really excited about this play.”

“That’s Yuji for you. Always excited and happy, one of the many things I’ve learned to love about the kid.” You sat back, holding up the costume proudly, “Finished!”

Ryomen whistled, “Guess we have reason to celebrate.” 

You put the costume aside as Ryomen tops off your glass of wine and pours himself another glass of whiskey. You raise a brow as you return to your seat. “So we are celebrating me finishing a costume?”

“Not just any costume, but the most amazing big bad wolf costume,” he emphasizes the words "big bad" as he leans closer to you, bringing his drink to his lips.

"It's late." You stand, a slight buzz from the wine. That was your signal that staying here would lead to nothing good, especially with the hungry eyes Ryomen was giving you. "I should go to bed."

Ryomen grabbed your wrist, giving you pause as you stared back at him. His eyes pleading. "Don't go."

It's unclear who made the first move, but suddenly, everything is happening at once. Feverish hands are roaming over your skin as clothes are hastily discarded, leaving you in only your underwear. Ryomen lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist, pulling you in for a passionate kiss before placing you on the kitchen table.

His lips moved down your body, leaving a trail of kisses from your mouth to your chest. Ryomen pulls down your bra, exposing your perked nipples. As one hand twists and teases one nipple, his mouth eagerly latches onto the other. Your back arches as the sensation takes over your body. Your legs wrap around his waist, forcing his clothed cock to hit your aching core. Your need for release is overwhelming.

"Look at you, already desperate for my cock and I've barely touched you." Ryomen mumbled against your breast.

His lips trailed down your body, leaving a trail of hot kisses and marks in their wake. With each bite and lick, his hunger only grew more intense. He hooked his fingers into the fabric of your panties, pulling them down agonizingly slowly as a twisted smile spread across his face, seeming to enjoy the power he has over you. Subconsciously, you tried to close your legs, only for Ryomen to force them back open.

"Don't," he warned, giving your inner thigh a slap.

Ryomen’s gaze intensified as he took in the sight of you sprawled out on the kitchen table before him. To him, you were like a delicious feast waiting to be devoured. His fingers trailed down your legs, causing your skin to tingle with anticipation before reaching between your thighs. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers ran down your folds.

"So wet," he licked his lips before inserting one of his large fingers. "And tight."

Your head was enveloped in a thick fog as Ryomen’s finger pumped into you at an agonizingly slow pace. His gaze bore into your very soul, from your drenched sex to your trembling face. It was too much to handle; you had to avert your eyes before he consumed you completely.

He withdrew his finger, giving your clit a firm slap that elicited a yelp from your mouth. "Don't look away," he snarled. You turned back to face the man between your legs, his eyes burning.

"I'm sorry," you mumble.

Ryomen leans over you, his body pressing against yours as he stands. His hands are firmly planted on either side of your shoulders, and you can feel his clothed arousal rubbing against your own heat. A strangled moan escapes your lips at the sensation, causing you to instinctively grind yourself against him. His face is inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. "If you're going to apologize," he murmurs, "do it properly."

"I'm sorry, sir."

“Good girl.” Ryomen’s satisfied grin spread across his face as he drew back, his hand tracing a slow path back to your dripping core. But he granted you no relief, only teasing grazing your clit.

You try to remain calm, but your hands tightly grip the table's edge. You crave more; you desperately need more. "Please," you beg, body trembling. "Don't tease me, sir."

"Hm, you think you deserve more?"

You couldn't believe how desperate you sounded as you replied, "Yes please, I deserve more."

"Since you asked nicely."

He pushed two fingers into you, the sensation flooding your body with pure pleasure. With each powerful pump, his knuckle grazes against your throbbing clit, sending electric shocks through you. Meanwhile, his other hand moved toward your chest, playing with your sensitive nipples. You bite your lip, struggling to suppress the primal moans threatening to escape as the knot in your belly tightens.

You were on the edge of bliss when Ryomen withdrew his hands. Before you could protest, Ryomen listed you off the kitchen table and pressed you against the kitchen counter, Ryomen standing behind you. The rustle of his pants catches your attention, but before you can see what's happening, Ryomen pushes your head down. You uttered a small cry as your face and chest pressed against the cold marble surface.

His fat head is moved up and down your folds. You tilt your head a little, catching a glimpse of Ryomen’s member. "The only place you’re allowed to cum tonight in on my cock," he growls.

Ryomen's throbbing cock plunged deep into your core, igniting a primal fire within you. Your face contorted in ecstasy as Ryomen mercilessly pounded into you with a punishing pace, the force of each thrust causing your hips to slam into the counter you were being pressed against. Pleasure and pain merged into overwhelming bliss.

Ryomen's nails press into the soft flesh of your hips. He adjusts his position, raising you so your feet are no longer touching the ground. Your body responds eagerly to his touch, arching and writhing with each deliberate movement.

Ryomen grips a handful of your hair and pulls you up against his chest, pressing your back into him. He presses his lips into the shell of your ear. "Look at you, completely fucked out. Do you want to cum, my little pet?" His husky voice sends shivers down your spine.

"Yes." You gasped, "yes sir please."

He let go of your hair and stepped back, giving his hands full access to your throbbing clit. His fingers rubbed circles on it as he thrust into you more vigorously. Your screams of pleasure are uncontrollable as he hits depths within you that have never been touched before. You cling to the edge of the counter, your face buried into the crook of your arm, trying to muffle your lewd sounds.

Finally, you were pushed off the cliff. The force of your release almost unbearable as shockwaves rippled through your entire body, causing your cunt to spasm uncontrollably. Through the haze of pleasure, you could hear a string of curses escaping from Ryomen. Still, your mind was too occupied with the overwhelming sensations to process anything else. He continued to fuck you relentlessly, each thrust bringing you to tears from the overstimulation. But just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he gave a harsh thrust, fully pushing into you as you felt his warmth fill you.

You stayed in that position for a moment, feeling Ryomen pull out, his cum dripping down your leg.

Your legs felt weak, making you unsure if you could even stand. But before you could attempt it, Ryomen scooped you into his arms and headed towards the stairs with a mischievous smirk. "You didn't think I was finished with you?"

You felt the ache in your body as you woke up in Ryomen’s bed. The man had fulfilled his promise, and you had spent several hours in his bed before succumbing to exhaustion. The fog of lust and alcohol cleared, and reality hits you like a ton of bricks: you had slept with your boss. A wave of panic overcame you. You immediately slipped out of his bed, fearing his reaction if you had stayed until he awoke.

You sat on the edge of your bed, thoughts swirling about what would happen in the morning. Footsteps in the hallway made you sit up as fear gripped your heart. There was a knock at the door, and you held your breath, knowing who stood on the other side. "Y/n," his voice sounded uncertain.

Sliding off your bed, you moved towards the door, opening it just enough to see Ryomen. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. The hesitance etched on his face was not something you had seen from him before. "Good morning, sir."

"Listen," he rubbed the back of his neck. "About last night-"

"It was a mistake," you blurted without thinking. You didn't want to hear what he had to say, your heart aching at the list of potential things he would say. "I'm sorry; it was very unprofessional of me."

Ryomen's face twisted in pain, his fist clenched tight, knuckles white. "A mistake, right," he said. He turned to return to his room but paused. In an icy tone, he spoke, "Make sure to clean the kitchen before Yuji wakes up."

If it had been two days since you last spoke to him. Two days since you had slept with him. Now, here you sat alone, watching Yuji's play. No sign of Ryomen anywhere in the crowd.

As the final bows concluded, you noticed Yuji scanning the crowd with his eyes. They brightened when he spotted you, but his smile faded as he looked around you. You instantly realized he understood that his dad had broken his promise.

tag: @zezedoesshit

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || You Can't Have Kids

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - October 2024

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST

CHAN:

He sits across from you, silent after you reveal the news. You'd been agonising over it all morning since the doctor had phoned you and you'd had no idea how to tell Chan. You’re didn't know what you were expecting, disappointment? Maybe sadness, but instead, Chan reaches across the table and gently takes your hand in his.

“We’re a team, yeah?” His thumb brushes over your knuckles, grounding you. Your heart racing as you looked up at him, you knew how much starting a family meant to him but he wasn't going to let you go through any of this alone.

“I love you, and this doesn’t change anything. We’ll figure out what’s best for us. We have options, and we don’t need a traditional family to be happy.” His smile is soft but steady, full of reassurance. Tears welled up in your eyes and he rushed to sit beside you, bringing you into his arms and holding your head on his shoulder.

“Whatever happens, I’m not going anywhere.” He promises you, holding you tightly as you close your eyes. The doctors told you that they would help you with anything you could need and gave you good clinics for surrogacy for even adoption agencies.

MINHO:

Minho stares at you after you tell him, not speaking immediately. The two of you had been trying to have a baby for a long time and when you weren't able to concieve you'd ended up going to see a specialist, just to see what you were dealing with but it was your problem. Turns out you weren't able to carry a baby due to a 'hostile' uterus and you'd just broken the news to your husband.

The silence makes you nervous, but before you can say anything, he stands and moves to sit beside you. Without warning, he pulls you into a hug, burying his face in your neck.

“We don’t need kids to be a family,” he murmurs, his voice low but tender. Your heart was beating so fast you were almost sure it was going to burst out of your chest and into his arms but he just stroked your back softly,

“We already are one.” He leans back, his hands still resting on your arms.

“And if you ever feel like you’re not enough because of this, I’ll remind you that you are. Every day if I have to.” You smile a little as he runs his hand over your cheek,

"I love you," you whispered to him, thankful you had him by your side.

"I love you more." he winks.

CHANGBIN:

When you tell Changbin, his eyebrows knit together in concern, not for the news itself but because you look so distraught. You'd gone off on a huge rant about it was "okay" if he wanted to leave you ebcause you couldn't give him kids. The whole thing left him fuming with himself that you could have thought he would leave you because you couldn't have a baby,

“Hey,” he says, tilting your chin up gently. “I don’t love you because I want you to give me kids. I love you because you’re... you.” He gives a soft chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, but you can barely manage a smile as you look at him, 

“Kids or no kids, it doesn’t change that. We’ll make our own happiness, alright? We can always explore other ways if we want to, but I don’t need anything else if I have you.” You smile at him and nod your head a little, cuddling into him as he holds you tightly against him,

"We could always adopt a bunch of puppies," He smirks at you, squeezing your shoulders a little as you giggle at the thought.

HYUNJIN:

Hyunjin sits quietly as you explain, his eyes never leaving yours. When you finish, the silence between you is thick with emotion, but before you can apologize or say anything more, Hyunjin reaches out, gently taking your hands in his. His thumb brushes over your knuckles in soothing circles as he studies your face.

"You’ve been holding this in for a while, haven’t you?" he asks softly, his voice gentle, almost a whisper. The idea of you holding all of this alone killed him inside,

"I can see it in your eyes. I’m sorry you felt like you had to go through this alone." His hands tighten around yours, and he scoots closer, leaning in until his forehead rests gently against yours.

"Listen to me, baby," he whispers. "This doesn’t change how I feel about you. We don’t need to fit some mould of what a ‘perfect family’ should look like. We can create our own happiness, in our own way." You feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as he continues,

"And if you’re worried that I’ll be upset... I’m not. I fell in love with you, not with the idea of a future that has to look a certain way. And if we want to explore other options for a family, we’ll do it together. You and me. That’s all that matters." He whispers, his tone so confident you couldn't help but believe him,.

JISUNG:

You'd been putting off telling him for weeks but finally it all came rushing out of you, unable to hold any of it back from him anymore. When you finish, he doesn’t say anything for a moment, just processing what you’ve shared. Then, he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly. You cry against his shoulder and he gently rubs your back,

“Is that what’s been bothering you?” he asks gently, resting his chin on top of your head. he knew you'd been going through something but whenever he asked you, you avoided it.

“You’ve been worried about this?” He pulls back enough to look into your eyes. He gently wiped his thumb under your eyes to remove the tears and you sniffled at him.

“This doesn’t make me love you any less. And if you’re upset because you think I’ll be disappointed... I’m not.” His smile is warm, and full of affection. 

“We’ll be okay. We can adopt or find another way. We don’t have to rush anything...We can take time a process this,” You nodded at him, liking the idea of taking some time to think before you acted on anything,

FELIX:

Felix immediately notices the fear and anxiety on your face as you reveal the news. There was something off about you for weeks and he now understood what it was. 

"I get it if you don't...If I can't- I let you down." you could barely get the words out and his heart clenches, not because of the revelation, but because of the weight it’s clearly put on you.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, pulling you into his chest. He holds you close, running his fingers up and down your back softly in a comforting manner. 

“You don’t have to feel like you’ve let me down. You haven’t.” His words are firm but kind, filled with reassurance. There was nothing in the world you could ever let him down, least of all like this.

“We’ll figure this out together, yeah? There’s so much more to life, and we can still have everything we’ve ever wanted, no matter what.” He looks at you as you nodded,

"Besides, means we can travel more right now and I know for a fact you've been wanting to go and visit Paris." he smirks at you and you smile weakly, cuddling into him.

SEUNGMIN:

Seungmin’s reaction is measured, as always, but you can see the tenderness in his eyes as you explain the situation. He doesn’t rush to speak, instead giving you his full attention until you’re done. Once you finished you blew out a breath and he moved closer to you,

“We’ll be alright,” he says simply, but his tone is filled with confidence. He reaches out to hold your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like there was a pressure on you to carry a child, there were other ways the two of you could have a baby,

“There are many ways to build a family, if that’s what we want. But no matter what, I want you to know that this changes nothing about how I feel. You’re still my person, and that’s all I need.” He promises you, reminding you of your vows to one another as you felt your body heating up and nodding.

"We'll figure it out together," he promised you.

JEONGIN:

Jeongin listens quietly as you tell him, and you notice the worry that flashes across his face, not for the situation but because he sees how much it’s affecting you. He takes your hands in his, squeezing them gently. He could tell that you had been feeling "guilty" about this whole thing and that was the last thing he wanted from you,

“You don’t have to feel bad about this,” he says softly. “I didn’t fall in love with you because I wanted kids, I fell in love with you because... i wanted to be with you for the rest of our lives. I wanted to grow old with you and eventually push you around in a wheelchair...or get matching scooters with you.” He gives you a shy but sweet smile and you laugh softly at the thought of you growing old and grey together.

"Matching scooters?" You giggled and he nodded, wiping the tears off your face,

"Oh and Zimmer frames, you'd have yellow tennis balls and I'd get blue," He winks at you and you relax a little.

“We have a lot of time to figure things out. What matters to me is that we’re together. That’s enough for me.”

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @s3ungm1nxxl0ve

[izvmimi]

A typical Thursday night has you and Izuku both home early and on this night in particular, you find yourself straddling him in bed, his body prone and back exposed to you so you can knead his shoulder and back muscles in a makeshift massage.

You let gentle pulses of electricity smooth and relax each muscle, carefully tracing along each roughened and scarred patch of skin for new scars, and gently rotate his joints. You’re not as good as the physical therapist who works at your new hospital, but you’re good enough, and as you feel your husband’s body ease up whatever has him tense, you feel a satisfaction deep in your chest. Slowing down your movements, you let your body lay against him, chest to back.

“Do you feel better?” you ask.

His face is still muffled into the pillow as he murmurs “yes.” You wonder if he’s started to fall asleep, but he reaches his arms overhead and backwards to reach for your head, then patting it gently once he’s found it. You laugh at the way he fumbles to look for it at first and roll off his body so that you’re next to him, and he turns onto his side, pulling you in closer, while beaming.

“Not to say that that new healer isn’t great, but it just doesn’t feel the same when it’s not you.”

You pout a little.

“Oh, what’s she doing wrong?” you ask, quick to offer constructive feedback. He frowns for a second, wondering if he misspoke, then instead presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I don’t think it’s anything wrong per se, it’s just-” he trails off for a moment then pauses, thinking about the best way to phrase the next sentence, then continues - “she’s not you.”

He tries to keep his voice light and not demanding to make sure that you don’t feel any guilt, but it’s hard not to. The few months where you worked in the same agency as Izuku must have made him so happy, and you easily recall the practical smile on his face when you arrived as part of the salvage and resuscitation crew or whenever he walked into the infirmary and you were free. 

But the truth of the matter is that hero work wasn’t your calling in that manner and would never be, and he understands that. You've just started at your new place a few months ago, and the adjustment is hard, but you've seemed overall happy even if you're no longer together as often.

He must sense the twinge of discomfort because he cups your face, kissing you first on the lips before pulling back and giving you a reassuring nod.

“I know it’s an unfair standard to meet though,” he says. “How can anyone compare to my perfect wife?”

The way he lays it on thick makes you chuckle.

“I need you to adjust your standards a bit, you’re just far too used to me.”

He makes a show of rolling his eyes, but wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you so that you’re on top of him. 

“I think you should allow me to praise you,” he says.

“Not to someone else’s detriment,” you protest, pressing your chin to his chest as you look at him. 

He frowns. “I didn’t say ‘the healer at my job sucks’, all I said is it doesn’t feel the same. Maybe, just maybe, I just like the extra love I feel when you touch me.”

You grin, now filled with mischief. “Well, maybe I could offer her some pointers in that respect too...”

His nose crinkles. “Stop that right now.” He holds you tighter, and you let your legs kick as he rocks the both of you back and forth playfully.

“Regardless, you always have me to come back to and I’ll always be willing to kiss your booboo so don’t be too sad,” you add.

He laughs, petting your head. “I’m just being a baby, aren’t I?”

“A little, but you’re my baby,” you remind him, as you cuddle, but you make note of the additional indirect message that he always loves and misses you too.

[darkbluekies]

GOLDEN TRIAL PT2: A slippery slope

Part 1

Yandere!mafia x yandere!female!mafia x female!yandere x yandere!king x yandere!doctor x male!detective!reader

Summary: after your adventure on Normandie, you've been dealing with the consequences of the horror. Unfortunately, you start to realize that you might not be the person you think you are. It doesn't help when a certain doctor finds you again.

Warnings: lingering head trauma, identity crisis, kidnapping, mocking, dog collar (lol), syringes/drugs, forced tattooing,

Word count: 9.3k

You get off the subway in silence and push your way through the crowd, walk up the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. Blinking, you try to fix your blurry vision. Sometimes, even though it’s been three months since you were hit on the head with a glass bottle, you’re reminded of the events on board the liner Normandie. You had been running around over two days before going to the hospital about the blow to your head. It seems to have been too late. What could have been brushed off with some bandage and disinfection had now given you minor problems you are dealing with daily. Not enough to hurt or bother, but enough for your agency to hesitate sending you out on missions. 

These last months have been weird, to say the least. Not only have you been forced to take a break from your job, you have been lonely. So very lonely. You haven’t done anything and the only time you’ve went outside the door is when you go to your doctor’s appointments and when buying food. After the ominous note you got, you have been careful about going outside, scared that you will meet them again. How long will your life be forced to be like this? Maybe you should leave New York and start over somewhere new, where you can live a normal life. No more detective work, no more hiding, no more … fear. Perhaps a farm on the west coast? 

You open the door to the private hospital. It’s located in a house no other than any of the other houses on the street. The first time you were here, you thought that you had been given the wrong address and waked into someone’s private house. Quietly you walk into the reception. The young woman behind the desk has always been friendly. Her sparkly blue eyes and chestnut hair remind you of a squirrel.  

“Good morning”, the receptionist smiles at you. “Name?”

“Y/N L/N”, you say. “I’m here for a revisit at eleven am.”

“Ah, yes, I remember you. Your doctor is currently on sick leave, so there will be another doctor taking care of you today. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Take a seat and the doctor will see you in a moment.”

“Okay, thank you.”

You sit down in one of the wooden chairs. The clock on the wall ticks like a doomsday clock. You can’t help but shiver. 

Your eyes wander in the small room. A mother with her young son, a father with his daughter, an old couple. And you, alone. There’s paintings on the walls, as if to distract one from the horror they might have to partake in when they step through one of the three doors on the right hand side of the room. 

You’re not sure why you’re here. You have been going to this doctor for three months and all he’s done is to confirm that you do, indeed, have head trauma. As if you couldn’t figure that part out for yourself. Sometimes you wonder if you still have shards of glass stuck in your head. 

“The doctor will see you now, Mister Y/N”, the receptionist suddenly says. “It’s the middle door.”

You stand up and walk over to the doors on the other side of the room, opening the middle one. Behind the desk, a man sits. He looks up at you and you can feel your heart stop, and so does the clock. For a second, you wonder if it’s one of the side effects from the glass bottle, but you can still hear your heart pound loudly in your chest. He’s trying to hide a smile, trying so hard to make it look like you’ve never met before. What do you do? Do you close the door behind you and get into his office or do you make a scene and get away? Your hand still holds onto the door handle behind you. 

“Close the door, if you don’t mind”, Doctor Kry says and raises his eyebrows testingly when you flinch back. “Don’t even think about it. Close the door.”

With a frustrated sigh, you close it, but remain by the wall. 

“I figure that you’re not going to sit down”, Doctor Kry says and rises from his chair. 

“Don’t come closer”, you say quickly. “I will make a scene.”

“I’m fine with that. Easier for me to get you into a lunatic asylum.”

You freeze. 

“Your usual doctor is on sick leave, so I’m here today”, Doctor Kry continues as if the prior conversation never happened. “I hope that is fine with you.”

“I am not comfortable with having you anywhere near me”, you spit. “How did you even know that I went here?”

Doctor Kry leans back against his desk with his hands in his pockets. “I can’t take the credit for that, unfortunately. It was my dear friend miss Carter who managed to find you.”

“Hedwig?”

“Yeah. Who knew that a young heiress with a phenomenally large contact net and money would be able to find someone like you. Unbelievable.”

You don’t give in to his joke. 

“Sit down, Y/N”, Doctor Kry says and pulls out the chair for you, “or I will get you dragged out of here in a straightjacket.”

Involuntarily you sit down in his chair. Doctor Kry walks around you and you follow him in the corner of your eye. 

“I read your report”, Doctor Kry says. “Trauma to the head? What happened?”

“You fucking know”, you spit.

“Oh, right.”

You want to slap that smirk off of his face. He continues to smile as he puts on his gloves. 

“Let’s get it under control”, Doctor Kry says and takes your head in his hands. 

You flinch, silently praying that he won’t twist your neck and break it. 

“Don’t touch my neck”, you say. 

“How else am I going to treat you?” Doctor Kry scoffs. 

You start to wonder if he’s messing with you when he’s just touching around. He’s too close to your neck, he could snap it. 

“Can you hurry up?” The words just slip out, before you have the time to shut your mouth. 

To your horror, he chuckles. You freeze in your seat. 

“Why did you go so stiff all of a sudden?” Doctor Kry asks smugly, grabbing your shoulders. “Are you scared that I’m going to hurt you, Golden Boy?”

The familiar pet name sends a wave of nausea through your body. You feel how every hair on your body stands on edge. Terrified to meet his blue eyes, you concentrate on a point on the wall where it looks like a small bug has landed. 

“You threatened me with a tranquilizer”, you breathe out. “You could have helped me with my head that night — you’re a doctor — but you didn’t. You could have prevented me from coming here.”

“I could have”, Doctor Kry says. “But why would I? Remember what I told you? I’ve never said that I was nice.”

You stand up, shaking off his hands. 

“We’re done here”, you decide and start to move towards the door. 

“Alright, I suppose so”, Doctor Kry says. 

You grab the door handle with your shaking hand and open it forcefully. 

“I guess that I will see you soon, Y/N”, you hear his voice say behind you. “Can’t let a patient go before they’re healed, now can I?”

You ignore him. Stumbling on trembling legs, you pass the patients in the waiting room, struggle past the receptionist and out of the house. You throw up in the nearest bush.

For a few moments, the world has gone silent again. You can hear your heart thumping in your ear, feel every nerve in your body beat alongside it and you have to sit down on a nearby bench to collect your spinning head. That eerie feeling you had on board the Normandie returns … as if you’re being watched. You look around in a dizzy, blurry haze. Everyone looked like each other. Anyone could be them. If Kry had found you, what says that the others aren’t around the corner?

Going home feels wrong. What if they follow you and see where you live? Where do you go? What do you do? 

Your numb legs take you to a nearby telephone booth. With shaking fingers you call your boss and tell him about the incident. 

“You told me that I’d be safe!” you shout. “I knew that it would end like this! I knew that this would happen!”

“Y/N-”

“If I die, it’s your fucking fault, okay? You sent me out on that ship alone and now I have to deal with the consequences of your choices!”

You throw the telephone back in its hold and scream in frustration. The sound doesn’t escape the little telephone booth, which is probably for the best. You don't want to go to that mental asylum Doctor Kry threatened with.

You stand still for a few seconds, breathing heavily. You feel like crying.

The coming days can't be described as anything less than torture. You look over your shoulder for every step you take, flinch at every sound. Just as paranoid as on board the ship. Those four days will haunt you for the rest of your life … and the ones who caused it will hunt you until you're in their claws.

To calm your nerves, you've had to drink strong whiskey. Nothing else seems to work. Should you leave the country? You shiver. The thought of stepping aboard another ship again makes your skin crawl. You take another sip of the whiskey. It doesn't burn anymore.

The world started to blend together in blurry waves ages ago. It's starting to shift into black. Finally you're going to fall asleep and not have to worry about anything in this world. You’ll be safe in dreamland. 

A small sound reaches your drowsy ears, but you’re too far off to react in time, almost as if you’re drugged. The door opens slowly and a dark figure enters. Everything is fuzzy. The person says something, but you can’t hear it. A cloudy wall separates you from you and whoever has broken into your apartment. A cloud which quickly turns everything black.

When you wake up again, you feel every muscle in your body pulsating, hurting and a nauseating feeling roars in your body. You’re lying on a couch in what looks like a warehouse … or a basement. 

“He’s awake!” a familiar voice gasps. 

Hedwig jumps up from a chair right by your head and waves for someone to come over. You hear the sound of people move closer. You try to pull yourself up on your elbows. 

“You son of a bitch, Y/N”, you hear Silas say, a clear smirk in his taunting voice. “You thought that you could get away. How naive!”

“I want to put it on”, Jerry says and takes something from Edmund’s hands.

“Fuck sake, Jerry!” he hisses and pulls his hand quickly away. “I've told you to trim those nails!”

Jerry doesn't bother to answer. She walks over to you and slips something around your neck. You're too dizzy to realize what it is before it is too late. A collar and a leash. Like a dog. Just like they had promised.

“What an obedient dog”, she snickers. “Letting me put it on without protests.”

She tugs on the leash, causing your head to rip forward. The air in your throat gets abruptly cut off. Their laughter feels your aching head.

“Golden boy deserves a treat”, Edmund smirks and holds a piece of chocolate to your lips.

You turn your head away.

“Don't touch me!” you cough.

“A little too late for that”, Doctor Kry says and shrugs. “How do you think we got you here?”

You try to get up from the couch. Nausea roars through your body. Jerry pulls the leash towards her. You stumble before falling down on your knees, catching yourself with your hands on the hard cement.

“Just face it”, she says cockily. “You're too hungover to overpower us, and once you're sober enough you will already be broken. Don't bother to try anything. Hm, maybe he should stay on his knees, or what do you all think?”

“Stop fucking around”, Edmund sighs in annoyance and grabs the leash out of her hands, pulling harshly. “Stand up.”

It's on shaking legs that you manage to get on your feet. You're the same height as the king, but feel unbelievably inferior. Is it the collar around your neck, the degrading look in his eyes or the fact that you know what they're capable of that makes you terrified? You can't meet their eyes.

“This is humiliating, can you stop?” you hear Hedwig asks.

She's standing on the far end of their little line, a few steps away from them, with her arms hugging herself. Disgust covers her face.

“I feel nauseous just watching it”, she mutters. 

“Don't worry, Hedwig, we're just playing with him”, Silas smiles and ruffles your hair with his hand. “We're not hurting him.”

“Hedwig shouldn't take him”, Edmund says. “I don't trust him.”

“What do you want?” you ask, trying your best not to sound like a pathetic little puppy.

“What did you do with the list of names?” Silas asks. “The one behind the painting.”

“And where is my fucking painting?” Edmund asks.

“The painting, I don't know”, you say and meet Silas black eyes. “Your list was hidden on board the ship, but my contacts have found it. They're on the way to arrest everyone on your list.”

“Oh, are they now?” he asks deadly calmly. “And I suppose that you are still their shining Golden Boy thanks to that?”

You lower your eyes.

“Or did someone get put on an indefinite hiatus because they're a security risk?” Silas continues, moving closer, tugging ever so carefully on the leash. “Are you sure that you're their favorite? You never seem to have much protection, despite the threat against you. Don't worry, Golden Boy, we will make sure nothing ever reaches you. We will make sure you stay hidden.”

“If they don't want to give us our note, we won't give them their darling dearest”, Jerry says, shrugging.

You feel a lump in your stomach. Your contacts will never give over the note … and in that case they'll never give you. Wonderful.

A tug on the leash brings you back to reality. 

“It's healing quite nicely, don't you think?” Jerry asks, tilting her head to get a better view of the back of your neck.

“It's still fresh, it's nowhere near healing”, Doctor Kry says with his monotone voice, arms crossed over his chest.

Their eyes turn to your neck and you gulp, realizing that part of the pain isn't coming from your head, but from the back of your neck, easily mistaken as the brainstem. You lift your hand and try to touch whatever is hurting you. Hedwig picks up a pocket mirror from her pocket and hand it to you. You’re in disbelief when you see black marks on your skin, drawn in a strange symbol you have never seen before. The skin is swollen and tender to the touch. 

“What is this?” you question in pure fear. 

“We told you that you would be tattooed, didn’t we?” Silas smiles. “That tattoo is the symbol of my group. It’s somewhat of a trademark. Everyone who sees you will know that you belong to me.”

“I hate that you are the only one getting associated”, Edmund mutters. 

“Well, I am the only one with a symbol, aren’t I?”

“You are so self centered.” Edmund puts his hand on Hedwig’s shoulder. “As if we haven’t got one?”

“‘Self centered’, you absolute hypocrite”, Jerry scoffs. 

“I did not consent to this!” you shout angrily. “How could you just tattoo me when I wasn’t even conscious?!”

“It was pretty easy since you were, as you said, ‘not even conscious’”, Silas smiles teasingly. 

“Enough of this foolishness”, Doctor Kry cuts in. “We have things to do. The train leaves tomorrow morning and we still have things to do.”

Train? 

“Give the poor boy some food and make sure he sleeps”, Silas says. “It’ll be a long day for him tomorrow.”

They start to move towards the stairs of the basement, all but Hedwig who have went upstairs to get you a plate and Edmund — the man who’s holding the leash. 

“You don’t have to be here”, she says. “I can take care of him myself.”

“I don’t trust him”, Edmund mutters angrily and wraps more of the leash around his hand. “He knocked Jerry over when she was guarding him and — fuck it — she is tougher than you. I am not letting him anywhere near you alone.”

“Can you at least let go of the leash?” Hedwig asks. 

Edmund lets it go with great dramatic effect. You sit down on the couch with a thumping heartbeat. Hedwig sits down beside you, turning towards you. Edmund stands behind her, towering over the young woman like a giant, glaring at you. It reminds you of a lioness behind their cub. 

“Are you hungry?” Hedwig asks and looks down at the plate. “I’ve watched my maid cook ever since I was a little child but I don’t have much experience with it myself so I apologize if it isn’t the best.”

“I’m nauseous.”

“Then some sleep will do you good.”

“What train did he talk about? I’m not going on some train!”

“You are”, Edmund says, “and you’re doing it tomorrow morning. In a box.”

You look at him, baffled. “What?”

He looks at you with mockery in his icy blue eyes. “Nobody told you? You’re getting a first class ticket. I heard that they make those wooden boxes are quite comfortable nowadays.”

“I’m not going in some fucking box!”

You stand up in a swift, aggressive motion. Not only will they bring you onto a train going to who-knows-where, but they’re also stuffing you in a trunk? No shame. 

“Where are you taking me?”

“My father has a house on the coast, by the beach”, Hedwig replies. “You’ll like it. Hey, If you’re not going to eat, then will you please go to sleep?” 

“I will not be able to sleep. If I have to drink myself to black out, do you really think I will be able to fall asleep here?”

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. You don’t want to see a sympathetic look from her. It’s their fault, after all. They took everything from you … and now she’s looking at you as if she’s pitying you. 

You refuse to sleep, refuse to even sit on the couch. It doesn't take long before the door to the basement stairs open and the sound of footsteps fill the air. You look up, seeing Doctor Kry walk down. In his hand, he holds a transparent syringe.

“I suppose that you are familiar with this”, he says and looks at the needle. “I thought that it was finally time for you to get acquainted with it.”

“Don't come close”, you warn him.

He's quicker than you've anticipated. Before you know it, you're tackled onto the hard floor. It knocks the air out of your lungs. Doctor Kry is stronger than you could have imagined. He doesn't look muscular underneath his clothes, and he probably isn't as muscular as Silas, but he is strong with firm grips. You try your best to fight against the needle coming closer to your neck.

“Goodnight, Golden Boy”, Doctor Kry says and finally punctures your neck with the sharp end of the needle.

He gets off of you immediately and you try to get up and run. You manage to get a few steps forward before your legs give up and you fall down on your knees. You start to lose your hearing, and your sight start to darken. Doctor Kry grabs your shoulders and pull you over to the couch. The last thing you see before it all turns back is his blue eyes staring down at you.

You’re not sure if you have opened your eyes. You try to shut them tight, then open them again. It’s just as dark. Your knees are pressed to your chin, arms folded over your chest. Panic rises in your body, suddenly feeling every single cell of your body and what it touches. Painfully aware that you’re squashed together in a wooden box. 

“Let me out!” you shout and try to bang on the walls, floor and ceiling. 

A harsh slap on the side of the box makes you flinch. 

“Shut the fuck up”, Silas voice hisses through gritted teeth, shocking you for being too close. “Do not make a single sound, whatever you do.”

You breathe heavily and crawl together. For these past months, you’ve felt scared … but never like this. The only thing you can compare it to is that morning when you ran around the Normandie with the painting tucked under your arm. Your heart has never beaten that quickly before. And here you are now, in a wooden box with a dog collar around your throat and a tattoo in the back of your neck. The leash is gone.

They won’t kill you before they have gotten the list, right?

You hear men's voices and suddenly the box jerks. Your head slams against the side and you groan, quickly biting your lip to avoid making sound. Silas will probably punch you if you disobey his command. You form fists. 

Whoever is handling the box does not care for it. It seems to go back and forth, up and down, with you hitting your head with every jerking motion. 

Finally, finally, it stops. The moving, the sound, everything stops. You breathe out, listening. Where are you? Can you get out of the box? You try to push the top of the box, but it won’t budge. Neither will the walls. With a frustrated yell, you kick and then, in defeat, sink down again. 

Silence keeps you company for what feels like ages. Suddenly, the ground under you start to shake and move. You gasp. The train!

It takes a while before the top of the box is moved. Bright light hits your eyes and you squint. 

“Good morning”, Silas smiles and pulls you up from the box. 

Your muscles are stiff and aching, popping when you try to move. Your legs threaten to give out. 

“Ouch …”, you moan. 

“Did you have a nice time?” Jerry smiles and claps your back. 

You look around, blurry eyes being met by a cargo hold. Silas and Jerry are the only ones here. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, stressed. 

“What do you mean?” Jerry wonders.

“What do you want? Why am I out?”

“Did you think that you were going to spend the entire trip in the box?” Silas asks. 

“Edmund said-”

“And you believe a single word that stuck up manchild says?” Jerry scoffs and grabs your arm. “Come now.”

They take you out of the cargo hold and into a thin corridor. Running along your left are cabins and to your right are windows. Silas opens a door and directs you inside the cabin. It’s a suite, and a gorgeous one a that. A king sized bed, couches, big windows, drapes and your own bathroom. Hedwig and Edmund sits on the couch doctor Kry is leaning against the window. Behind him, America swooshes past. 

“Here he is”, Jerry says.

“What’s going on?” you stutter. “What do you want?”

“We are not going to let you be alone in cargo hold”, Silas says. “We are not monsters.”

I have other opinions.

“We’ve decided that you are going to be by our sides so that we can keep an eye on you”, Hedwig says and smiles. “If you are in the cargo hold you could die.”

“You’re not going to wear the leash because that will cause people to be suspicious”, Doctor Kry says. “Yes, we are not the only ones on this train.”

“You will not talk to any of them”, Jerry says. 

“You will stay here in my cabin”, Silas says. “My second in command will be in Jerry’s cabin, so don’t think that you can do anything towards me. He’ll be just on the other side of the wall.”

Why does he have to be here too? 

Everyone leaves the suite but Silas. You sink down on the bed with your head in your hands. 

“Why do you do this?” you groan.

Silas sits down beside you. “You did this to yourself”, he says, voice weirdly calm. “You put your nose into the wrong business, knowing that it could put your life in danger.”

“It was my job.”

Was. 

“I still don’t understand why they sent you on that ship without backup … or any kind of protection at all besides that pitiful gun. Almost like they wanted you to get caught.” Silas furrows his dark brows and looks at you, unreadable hint in his black eyes. “Are you even sure if they liked you at all?”

This has to be some kind of scare-tactic. Don’t fall for it.

“Of course they did”, you mumble. “I had a high position, a good salary … they liked me. They did.”

“Are you saying that to reassure me or you?”

Silas stands up and breathes out. 

“Let’s go eat lunch, I’m starving”, he says. “You must be hungry too, I heard from Hedwig that you didn’t eat dinner last night. Come now.”

Silas walks out of the room, holding the door open out to the corridor. His words ring in your mind. Who are you trying to reassure?

“I’m not waiting all day”, Silas calls out. “You’re not getting lunch if you stay in there.”

You hurry to stand up and follow him out to the corridor, having to pass him on the way. The thin corridor is big enough for one of you. He walks closely behind you, peering over your shoulder. You’re led into a restaurant car with tables of four, each having seats instead of tables. The carriage is divided in two with a with a glass wall with open space where a door normally sits. Silas chooses one of these seats. 

“Sit down”, he says. “Now. By the window.”

You give him a questionable look before sitting down in the seat closest to the window. Silas sits down beside you, blocking your escape to the middle aisle. His second in command is already sitting by the table in the seat in front of you. Silas holds three menus laying on the set table in front of you, giving you one. 

“Choose what you want”, he says. “I have money.”

“I don’t doubt that”, you mumble. “With your dirty businesses you must make a lot of money?”

Silas scoffs, but there’s a small smile tugging on his lips. “More than you can imagine, Golden Boy.”

You start to look through the menu for things you like. You are, indeed, starving and head for a grilled salmon while Silas chooses a medium rare steak. When a servant is taking your orders, you look out the big window at the blurry obstacles whooshing by. Where are they taking you? You’re not leaving much, but you can’t bring yourself to start over. New York is not for you, not anymore, but you don’t want them to force you to leave your home. What will they do to you? You can’t give them the painting, you don’t know where it is anymore, and you don’t have the list of criminal names. You’re not sure that you will be able to be switched with it. You don’t have anything to offer them, but yourself … but why would they want you? 

“Pretty quiet today, huh?” Silas says. “You usually quite quick-witted.”

You pull your eyes away from the window and look at him. It’s almost comical, how a secret agent is having lunch with a mafia leader and his second in command. You have done it before, but under much different circumstances. 

“I don't have much to say”, you answer shortly. 

Everything in your body is hurting, which isn’t weird since you’ve spent the night crammed into a wooden box. Your broken head is not a help.

Silas converses with his second in command — a man you haven’t heard talk more than necessary. 

The food is served by a servant in a spotless tuxedo and slicked back hair. You thank him. It'd be so easy to let the words slip out of your mouth. A simple ‘help me’. The words are soft and rounded, it wouldn't be hard to pronounce them, but the fact that Silas and his second in command are sitting right here makes it impossible. The words are so simple. But as soon as he arrives, he disappears. 

“I've heard that the food on board is tasty, it better be”, Silas jokes and his second in command chuckles quietly.

He has gotten beef with grilled asparagus. You pick up your knife and fork and start to eat in silence. Silas is right, it’s delicious. Better than any of the food you have aten these last few months. It makes you guilty for enjoying it. 

“I have some rules, Golden Boy”, Silas says from beside you. 

You look at him. You are not a Golden Boy. He said that himself. Silas meets your eyes. 

“If you disobey us”, Silas starts, “by either trying to talk to someone, or come up with some stupid idea to get off the train, I will handcuff you to me, got that?”

Imagining being handcuffed to him, forced to join his every step, not have a single second to yourself is enough to make you shiver. 

“Yeah”, you reply shortly. “I understand.”

You let your eyes wander through the restaurant car, at the other passengers sitting and enjoying their meals. An older man is reading the newspaper while enjoying a bowl of soup, a mother and daughter pair are eating cheeses while chatting. How many on this train belong to Silas? He wouldn’t travel with only one man.

“I’m thinking about getting another car”, Silas smiles at his second in command and shoots a fork full of steak to his lips. “Any tips of a model?”

“One of those Ford models”, he replies. “It was good enough for Bonnie and Clyde.”

The news of the infamous couple’s death broke out in May last year. Some colleagues had been working on that case, from what you remember. For years. 

“I’m not Bonnie and Clyde”, Silas says and smiles. “But I’m a bit jealous of them. Imagine having a partner in crime like that. I mean, more than just a brother in arms, a love partner. Or what do you say, Golden Boy?”

You look up from your plate. Your vision has started to blur again. 

“Don’t you want a love partner, hm?” Silas asks, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Someone to back you up when needed?”

“I don’t want to answer personal questions.”

He exchanges a look with his second in command before smiling into his plate. “You’re shy, I see. Didn’t know that you were so cute.”

You ignore him. 

When lunch is done, Silas decides that it’s time for you to get back to the cabin. You get up, from your seat and scootch out into the middle aisle. You’re not sure if it is the moving of the carriage or your balance that causes you to stumble. Silas catches you by the arm. 

“That wine you had with lunch didn’t make you drunk, did it?” he asks. 

“No”, you reply and gulp. “It’s my head.”

“I see.”

You’re sure that it isn’t meant for you, but you can see how Silas gives his second in command a murderous look. Doctor Kry had told you that it had been Jerry and Silas’s second in command who had hit you with that glass bottle that night. 

“You should go rest, Y/N”, he says and places his hand on your back to guide you. 

He leads you back to your suite. The second in command closes the door behind him. You sit down on the couch, but Silas pulls you up again. 

“What do you think that you are doing?” he asks. “The bed is over there.”

“I’m not sharing a bed with you”, you mumble. 

“You are. Stop being childish and go to sleep.”

You’re pushed towards the bed. He’s quickly after you to pull the neatly fixed covers before you can change your mind. The mattress is softer than anything you’ve ever rested your back upon. 

“Sleep”, Silas orders. “I will get you for dinner.”

He asks his second in command to keep an eye on you. 

The gentle rocking of the train both soothes you to sleep and wakes you softly. You sit up and yawn. The second in command moves his eyes from the window. You can’t help but wonder if he ever does anything for pleasure or if he can turn off his emotions and needs whenever he wants. 

You reach for a glass of water on the bedside table and halt. After everything they’ve done, you wouldn’t be surprised if the water is contaminated. 

“It’s not dinner time”, the man says. “Back to sleep.”

“I’m not tired anymore.”

“Lay down.”

You sigh and lay down again, listen to the gentle rocking of the train against the rail. Last time you spent a night in a cabin with them was when you were tied on the floor. You should never have taken that mission. Your mind involuntarily drift to what Silas had said and feel how your heart squeezes in pain. It can’t be.

Suddenly, the door opens. 

“Time for dinner”, Silas says. “Get up, you need to eat.”

You groan and pull yourself up from the bed. The second in command follows closely to the restaurant cart. One table can only fit four passengers. They have to separate three and three, and then you’ll have to choose whichever combination is the least bad.

Hedwig, Edmund and Doctor Kry … or Silas, Jerry and the second in command. You sit down besides Hedwig. Edmund is quick to have her change seats with you, so that you’re by the window and she’s blocking the exit out to the middle aisle. The girl smiles at you and takes your hand. 

“You look much better without that inhumane leash”, she says. 

“I think he looks better with it”, Edmund mutters and inspect his silver knife. 

She ignores him. “What do you want to eat, sweetheart?”

You shrug, telling her that she can choose for you. You don’t say anything throughout dinner, even though Hedwig tries her best to spark a conversation with you. She talks about the scenery swooshing past outside the window, the beautiful interior, how much she has missed you and how happy she is to have you back. You drown it all out to the point of wondering if her voice is all just a hallucination.

You’re barely active during dinner, only being able to think about your — former — job. Heart feeling unbelievably heavy.

“I have to leave”, you whisper to Hedwig. “I have to be alone.”

“Are you okay?” Hedwig asks worriedly and watches how you stand up. 

“I need to go.”

“I’ll come with you.”

She excuses the both of you from the table. You can feel the others eyes linger on you, burn right through you. You’re sure that Edmund wants to say something, but he keeps his mouth shut for once. Hedwig takes your arm and leads you back to the cabin carriage. 

“I don’t understand why they’re so afraid of me being alone with you”, Hedwig giggles and opens the door to Silas’s suite. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

At this point you’re not sure what you would and wouldn’t do. 

“Do you want to sleep?” Hedwig asks and walks over to the bed. “I can tuck you in.”

You lay down in bed and Hedwig makes sure that none of your body parts escapes the covers. She looks pleased with herself and lets her hand caress your cheek. Her hazel eyes look down at you with immense love and for the moment that is the only thing you can believe. That kind of look can’t be mistaken. 

“Are you tired?” she asks softly, continuing to caress your cheek. 

You nod, despite not feeling the slightest bit tired. Exhausted, but not tired. 

“I will let you sleep”, she says and kisses your forehead. 

You close your eyes, hoping that she will think that you’re asleep and leave the room. You need to be alone, but Hedwig is making it impossible. As long as she knows that you’re awake, she will cling onto you like a leech. She’s like a dog, a puppy. 

But she doesn’t leave. You can feel her sit on the side of the bed, and without opening your eyes, you know that she is staring at you with that same look of extreme love. As if you are the most important thing in the world. Her sun, her solar system. 

Eventually, she leaves. You wait a few seconds before opening your eyes and letting out a sigh. Lying down makes it hard to breathe. You try sitting up, but the pressure over your chest remains. You pull at your tie to open your airways, but neither that or buttoning up the first buttons on your shirt help. Your fingers claw at the window lock, but it remains in place. God, how badly you need air. You hurry over to the door and open it, exiting out to the corridor. They can get you, you don’t care. You need air and you need it now. 

You walk through the claustrophobic corridor in the opposite direction of the dining hall. You reach a door with a window. The rails run away from the train, towards the horizon. You rip the door open and find yourself on a balcony. Fresh air roams around you and you grab onto the oval railing, breathing in deeply until your lungs can’t take anymore, welcoming the pleasurable feeling of light headiness. You sink down on the floor with your back towards the train’s wall, watching the surroundings disappear further away. The sun is setting in the horizon, like in a painting. 

The thoughts return. Was everything a lie? Were you nothing more than a pawn? Why were you put on that mission? Did they know that you would be taken? Broken? Damaged? They didn’t bother give you any security or backup, and when you weren’t killed or taken, they use the trauma they caused to put you on hiatus and made you look at fault. You have worked for them since you left school, given them your everything. Did they want to get rid of you? Were you worth nothing more? Did they ever care about you?

Suddenly you’re aware of the tears running down your cheeks.

“There you are”, a voice sighs. 

You flinch and look over your shoulder. Jerry is standing in the doorframe, holding her hands on either side.  Out of all the people who could find you, why did it have to be just Jerry?

“Everyone is looking for you”, Jerry says. 

“Didn’t mean to”, you mumble. 

“You better have a good explanation.” 

She sits down on the other side of the door, in arms reach of you. The door closes behind her, leaving the two of you on the balcony platform. It’s first now that she seems to notice that you’re crying. 

“Oh, what’s wrong?” she asks in a sarcastic tone, clearly mocking you. “Feeling homesick?”

“No”, you sigh and look down at your hands. “Just leave me alone.”

“Can’t do, princess. You are not allowed to be alone, you know that very well. But sure, I can leave. I can tell the other that you have attempted to escape.”

Your hand shoots forward to stop her from leaving. “No, don’t say that!”

“Then tell me. Hurry up, princess, I don’t got all night!”

You sigh and rest your head back against the wall. She’s doing it on purpose, you think, riling you up to the breaking point so that she has something to punish you for. 

“Jerry, stop”, you plead and hold your head in your hands. “I’m asking you nicely. Don’t do that.”

“In what position do you think you are to speak to me like that? Do I need to go get the leash to remind you who you are? Hm? Is that what you want, Golden Boy?”

The name breaks something in you. You feel so stupid. Like an absolute fool!

“Don’t call me that!” you shout. “I never was a fucking ‘Golden Boy’! They just used me! And I just let them do it! Like the idiot I am!”

Your head pounds worse than ever. You’re afraid that it is going to rip out of your skull. You can feel how Jerry moves closer. 

“They never fucking cared about me”, you hiss. “No one does!”

“Now, who told you that?” Jerry sighs.

“It’s obvious! Just look at how they’re treating me! They wanted to get rid of me, that’s why they sent me on that ship, wasn’t it …?”

Jerry sighs heavily and runs her hand through her black hair. “Well, fuck … I don’t know what the fuck to say.”

“Be quiet, then.”

You don’t want to hear her ‘I told you so’ mantra. You’ve understood how much of an idiot you are, you don’t need her to remind you. She removes your hands and forces you to look at her. 

“It does not fucking matter what they thought of you, okay?” she says. “I get that they tricked you but you’re never going back there, so drop them. They’re not worthy of your attention. Just look at what a mess you become when you think of them! And I don’t want to hear that shit again, about no one caring about you. We have looked for you day and night since that last night on the ship!”

“That’s different. You know that. You won’t get the list or the painting. If they wanted me gone, they won’t trade me for it. I’m useless to you.”

She sighs frustratedly and runs her hand through her black hair again. 

“Fuck, I am not made for this”, she mutters and looks around for help, but the only thing nearby are the passing landscape. “Listen, Y/N, we could have done things a whole lot differently. We didn’t actually need you, alright? Not for business. Hell, we don’t even want the same things! Me and Silas are the only ones wanting the list. Edmund wants his painting. I don’t even know what the doctor and Hedwig want, but do you know the only reason why the five of us stay together? Because of you, dumbass.”

She grabs your head and holds it to her chest, letting you cry. 

“The term ‘Golden Boy’ isn’t just because of your job, it’s more than that. Don’t take it the wrong way. Now stop talking like that, it is getting on my nerves. Pity yourself to someone else.”

Silence. You listen to the rattling sound, the wind and Jerry's irregular breathing.

“What did I do wrong?” you ask quietly, emotionlessly. “Why did they do that to me?”

“I don’t know, Y/N”, Jerry answers softly. “Some people are horrible. There is a difference between people who's openly bad, and those that pretend to be good but are rotting on the inside. I can’t stand those people. If you’re going to be a bad person, at least stand for it.”

“I feel like a fool.”

“You are a fool, but it isn’t your fault. You did what you had been told, like everyone else.”

“I wish that I knew why they decided to let me go … I mean, that way I could have prevented it … or fixed it.”

“Stop thinking about it. I told you that you’ll never deal with those people again. You’re with us now.”

You sigh. Listening to Jerry’s heart beat makes you want to laugh at how hard it is beating when she has acted like she doesn’t have one. 

“Get up”, she says after a while. “We can’t sit here the entire night. It’s starting to get cold.”

You drag yourself up on your feet. Jerry takes your hand and leads you back inside. Warmth hugs you the second you reenter the thin corridor. She takes you back to Silas’s cabin where you find him arguing with his second in command. You catch something along the lines of ‘you hit him so hard he’s lost his mind’ and don’t have to think twice to know who he is talking about. A new punch in the chest. Does everyone view you that way? As a loser who can’t take care of himself after what happened? As a dog?

“Where have you been?” Silas asks angrily. “Wasn’t I very clear what would happen if you tried to leave?”

“I didn’t fucking try to leave!” you burst out, unable to do anything else beside matching his energy. “How could I when the train is moving at two hundred kilometers per hour?!”

“Yeah? What were you doing then?”

How dense is he?

“I tried to get one second to myself to try to think! My life is falling apart and no one is caring! Everyone is just mocking me!” Tears blur your vision. “Why is no one treating me like an actual human being?! No one respects me!”

Your knees give out. The carpeted floor does nothing when you fall. A few seconds pass where you’re left to sob in silence before a pair of arms wrap around you. They’re too muscular to be Jerry’s and the second in command would never touch you. It has to be Silas. 

“Get up, Y/N”, Silas says. “You need to sleep. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

He tells Jerry to get the doctor and she disappears out of the room. Doctor Kry comes in two minutes later. In his hands he holds an identical syringe to the one he injected you with before you got onto the train. Silas holds you down as the sharp needle pricks your arm. You can feel the foreign — yet painfully familiar — substance enters your bloodstream. Damn them, you think before the darkness swallows you, damn all of them.

You wake up with him sitting by the round table. He’s already dressed. You wonder how long that syringe makes you sleep. 

“Good morning”, Silas says. 

“Hi”, you mumble as memories from yesterday wash over you, like an ice cold shower. 

“I thought that you’ll stay here for breakfast. I’ve already ordered room service.”

Your eyes lay upon the silver tray with coffee, toast and waffles on the table, when you sit up. 

“Jerry filled me in about what you talked about”, Silas says. “I don’t want more of that, got it? You don’t get to run around causing havoc like that. You need to tell us instead of getting a melt down. Surprise, we might actually help you.”

You scoff and roll your head against the headboard. “You don't want to help. You just want to hurt me.”

Silas sighs. 

“Is that why I have tattooed my symbol on you?” he asks. “To hurt you?”

You don’t answer. How should you know?

“It never crossed your mind that I tattooed that on you so that you wouldn’t leave?” Silas asks. “Maybe because I want you here?”

“It doesn’t excuse what you have done.”

“Okay, maybe not, but ask yourself something, Y/N: where would you go if not here?”

You try to avoid his dark eyes. They burn right through you, confirming everything you have been thinking. You have nowhere to go, nowhere to stay. Nowhere where you are safe, nowhere where you feel like home. Not anymore. The only thing that kept you in New York was the pride in your job and now, if you go back, the only thing that is associated with that city is shame and hurt. With Silas tattoo on your neck, no one will want to have anything to do with you, for fear of him. 

Silas leaves you be. He doesn’t ask you questions, doesn’t try to get you on better thoughts or distract you. He lets you sit by the table with him, lets you feel your feelings. Lets you try to sort out the fog in your head. 

“How long do we have until we reach Hedwig’s house?” you ask after a while. “I’m getting tired of people.”

“Two days”, Silas answers. “You’ll like it. It’s far away from everyone and everything. You’ll be able to go somewhere quiet, where you can rest for once.”

The thought of resting makes you almost tear up. You can’t recall the last time you actually had a moment of peace. 

“I don’t know what you want, I don’t have anything more to give you”, you mumble. “I don’t have the painting, or the list of names, or any contacts. You can’t trade me for the list, and it’s too late now. They’ve already seen the names.”

“We don’t care about the list anymore”, Silas says. “When are you going to realize that?”

“I don’t know. I can’t seem to … think.”

Silas grabs your neck and pushes your head onto his shoulder. You let him. And there it rests until you’re feeling better. 

You decide to get out of the cabin before it’s going to swallow you whole. You make your way down the carriages until you get to the lounge. People sit chit-chatting in their seats, drinking tea. You wonder how many of them belong to Silas, how many eyes he has on board. You do your best not to stare at any of them. Instead, you walk towards an empty table and sit down by the window, staring out towards the horizon. You’ve never been so … lost before. And yet, you feel better — just a tad bit. One day at a time. Things will be fine. Hopefully. 

“Good afternoon”, you hear a voice. 

You look up to see Edmund carrying a deck of cards. 

“ Have you finished sulking now?” he asks. 

You don’t answer. Not even these kinds of stupid questions deserve stupid answers.

“If you have, why don’t we play a game of cards?” Edmund asks and sits down in front of you. 

“Sure”, you sigh. “What do you want to play?”

“What can you play?”

“A little poker, I suppose.”

“Good. Let’s play.”

Edmund starts to sort the cards. He shuffles them skillfully. 

“What do we play about?” he asks. “What do i get if I win?”

“What do i get if I win?” you conquer. 

A spark ignites in Edmund’s eyes and for once, it gives him a human touch. He leans forward, over the table, and smirks. 

“What do you want, Golden Boy?” he asks. 

You think about it. What do you want? 

“I don’t know”, you reply and when he rolls his eyes, you add: “I actually don’t know. A bit more freedom, maybe.”

“Oh, as in?” Edmund asks. 

“Be able to walk around freely without anyone going insane, like yesterday. I can’t run anywhere on here, now can I? Just being able to go wherever I want on the train whenever I want would be a comfort.”

“Alright, I can work with that. And if I win?”

“What do you want?”

Edmund leans back in his seat and looks out the window, thinking. 

“You need to call me ‘your majesty’ or ‘your royal highness’ from now on”, he says, looking pleased. 

Any traces of humbleness is gone. 

“Haven’t I been humiliated enough?” slips out of you before you have the time to stop yourself. 

Edmund smiles boyishly. “Nope. Not nearly enough.”

There’s a small tug at your heart, and your first instinct is to feel offended … but you can’t help but feel relieved that, while the others are trying to keep you from breaking down, Edmund is still the same. 

You smile slightly. 

“Alright, let’s start”, you say. 

He’s a skillful player with sharp eyes. You wonder who he has trained with. 

“Oh, you’re an idiot, Y/N.”

Doctor Kry stands by the table, watching the table amusedly with his arms crossed over his chest. Edmund grins up at him. 

“Aren’t I smart?” he asks and nods at you. “This dumbass has to call me by my title — as he should have from the start — from now on.”

“The game isn’t over yet”, you remind him.

“Just throw the towel in and die a hero. That way you’ll have some dignity left.”

“No.”

Edmund shrugs. “Alright.”

You’re not sure how, but you manage to beat him. Doctor Kry laughs behind his hand. Edmund glares at him.

“Beginner's luck”, he insists.

“Good job, your majesty, now you've given him free roam over the entire train”, the doctor says.

“Don't get so fucking happy, doc, I can still have you executed”, Edmund warns him with dark eyes. “I don't care if Silas has you under his protection.”

Doctor Kry doesn’t seem affected. “It’s just a day.”

“This motherfucker did quite much in a day last time.”

“I’d like to see our friend Axel Ainsworth trying to do his stunts here.”

You rise from your chair and bid farewell to the two men, happy to show that you are allowed to walk away. Your last day on board won’t be too bad, you reckon. 

You take the time to sort out your thoughts and think. Sitting in the lounge, looking out the window with a glass of whiskey, listening to the sounds of the train moving and the other guests chitchatting. Your head starts to make sense, for the first time in months. Your heart beats in your chest. You hate them, hate what they did to you. How they played you. How they used you for bait. 

“Can I sit down?”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts. Hedwig stands by the armchair in front of you, wearing a sweet pink dress. You nod. She squeals and sits down, looking giddy. 

“Do you want me to get you anything?” she asks. “Maybe something to dilute the whiskey with? Drinking on an empty stomach isn’t good, you know?”

“What do you know about that?” you ask. “Are you a heavy drinker?”

“No, but Edmund is … and I guess that you can imagine how ha is when he is drunk.”

“I’m not drunk … but yes, i can imagine how he would be. He’s not the politest sober either.”

“He’s nice, in his own way.” She shakes her head, as if she’s shaking herself free from thoughts. “How are you feeling? I heard that you had some troubles. Do you want to share them with me?”

“No, I’m okay, I think I got it now. It’s been nice to sit and think … to deal with it myself.”

“What have you come up with?”

“That I don’t want anything to do with those bastards in New York anymore. If I had the list, I’d give it to Silas and Jerry. I wish I had written down the names.”

“You remember some of them, don’t you?”

She picks up a notebook out of her purse and places it on the table. A golden pen is connected to it. 

“Write them down”, she says. 

You stare at the notebook, questioning if you really should give away the little information you know. You would never have done that before. An old saying pops into your head — my enemie’s enemy is my friend. 

You pick up the pen.

[hearts4renaa]

HE IS IN LOVE.

summary: things the bsd men do that show how in love with you he is. featuring atsushi, akutagawa, dazai, chuuya, ranpo, and kunikida

contains: fluff, gender neutral reader. based off of “you are in love” by taylor swift

a/n: ahhh bsd they could never make me forget about you. reblogs are always appreciated <3

you can hear it in the silence. you can feel it on the way home. you can see it with the lights out. you are in love. true love.

—

he says “look up”, and your shoulders brush.

ATSUSHI points out anything and everything that is even slightly related to your relationship. you could be walking down the streets together and he’d suddenly point at a restaurant sign while talking excitedly, “remember how we had our first date there?!” or he’d point at a mannequin in a window and go “the color of the shirt is like those shoes you wore at ___!!” he loves you so evidently that you seep into everything he sees. for him, the world has never been so colorful.

—

no proof, one touch. but you felt enough.

AKUTAGAWA squeezes your hand three times to tell you he loves you. he’s fully aware it’s cliche as hell, but that’s never deterred him. he squeezes your hand at the most random times too. talking to a cashier? i love you. watching a film at your place? i love you. cooking in your kitchen? i love you. he may not always tell you with words, but akutagawa never fails to remind you that he loves you. you are always his favorite thing to think about.

—

morning, his place. burnt toast, sunday.

DAZAI wakes you up with three things: a kiss, a coffee, and an attempt at breakfast. keyword: attempt. bro cannot cook for shit, and he knows it, so he ends up just making you toast. it’s either barely toasted or it’s burnt, no in between. but, your coffee is always exactly how you like it, and he makes sure to write you a cheesy little note no matter what. the giggles you have at the sight of his toast makes up for the tiny bit of embarrassment he feels for still not having the toast method down. he loves you, and he knows you’ll always love him, no matter how shitty his cooking is.

—

you keep his shirt. he keeps his word.

CHUUYA swears to you before every mission that he’ll come back home to you. and he never fails. you are always on his mind, no matter how much danger he is in. he makes sure to fight long and hard if it means that at the end of the day, he gets to be in your arms. it even works for simpler things, like if he was too lazy to fill out his reports. all he has to do is remember that you’re at home waiting for him, and that gives him all the motivation he needs. they say home is where the heart is, and his heart belongs to you.

—

you two are dancing in a snow-globe round and round.

RANPO spontaneously dances with you whenever he thinks the atmosphere is pretty. when the first snowfall hit, he brought you out to dance. when there was a soft shower of summer rain, he brought you out to dance. when the sun shone through the clouds, he brought you out to dance. he doesn’t care about the lack of music or coordination. you could step on each other’s feet a thousand times, but he’d still wear the same joyous smile. no matter the weather, no matter how bad his feet might hurt after. he always thinks you’re the most beautiful when you’re dancing with him.

—

and he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown.

KUNIKIDA has a little corner on his desk in the agency’s office basically dedicated to you. he has little trinkets you’ve given to him all laid out nicely, along with his favorite picture of you all framed. dazai teases him every time he walks by. kunikida tells him off each time, but he never removes anything off his desk. he glances at your picture every time he feels a little burnt out or tired. you keep him grounded, in a sense. you remind him about the reason why he’s doing all of this in the first place. there is good in the world. he knows that the world can be good because you were good to him. and he can only hope he’s been as good to you.

[buckets-and-trees]

I’d like to point out this man’s insane hotness🥵

Also… imagine needing a place to sit and Bucky tells you to sit on his lap😍

I've been sitting on this one for ages, Shannon, I'm sorry! But I was waiting for a storyline that truly swept me away because this look and the potential for this moment couldn't be squandered if I was going to take a stab at it...

Poison Blood from the Wound of the Pricked Hand

Characters/Pairings: Post TFATWS!Bucky x curvy!Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 3k Summary: You've made a life-altering decision, and even though it feels like the only choice you could have made, you hope it's the right one, and you hope the man you're being forced to rely on tonight will help you accomplish what you need to, or else your life could be at stake - not to mention the safety of so many others.

Content/Warnings: intense physical intimicy, but no actual smut (I know, shocker)

Author Notes: Possibly the last piece for the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend! And, yes late, but the final piece to complete out my collection for @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - week twelve "what should I wear?"

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

“How are things going in there?” Bucky called loudly to you.

“Um…” There was a long pause, before you called back, “Fine.”

You glanced at the clock.

You knew at this rate you were going to make the two of you late. But that only ate at you more. You weren’t trying to cause problems.

Or, rather, you weren’t trying to cause more problems. You already felt like a walking liability.

All you had tried to do was get out of the danger of your brother’s organization.

You had finally gone to the authorities, looking to make some kind of deal for safety, maybe witness protection, you didn’t know exactly how these things worked, only that you had to leave.

But evidently things had been even worse and more complicated than you knew, and the price for safety had come with strings.

They needed more information, and they saw you as a means to be able to get it.

And so they’d dangled a deal that required you to play your part as a trusted member of the family one more time.

You had only been gone for just over twenty-four hours, so it wasn’t likely that your brother would suspect your defection yet. But it was so recent that you still felt unsettled over whether you’d made the right decision - especially now that it wasn’t a clean break and you were being used be the people you expected to be the good guys.

“Are you sure?” Bucky’s voice broke through your thoughts again.

You shook your head. Since he was in the other room, there was no danger in him seeing your doubt and uncertainty.

Of all the moving parts in this scheme, Bucky was possibly the only piece you thought you might be able to trust. His reputation preceded him as someone more than capable of handling any dangerous situation, but he also seemed to harbor a question in his mind over working this operation and trusting the government agencies who had a hand in this.

You sighed, then bit your lip. The clock ticked relentlessly, each second a reminder of your indecision. Your eyes darted between two outfits laid out on the bed, both chosen with care but now seeming woefully inadequate for the task ahead.

You sighed, your eyes darting between the two outfits laid out on the bed. One was a sleek black dress, form-fitting and elegant, with a high neckline and long sleeves that would conceal the nervous goosebumps prickling your skin. The other, a tailored pantsuit in deep navy, exuded an air of professionalism and confidence you wished you felt.

Both outfits were carefully chosen to blend in at the high-stakes charity gala where you'd be making your reappearance in your brother's world. But which one would better sell the lie? Which one would make you look like you hadn't just betrayed everything you'd ever known?

You ran your fingers over the cool silk of the dress, then the crisp wool of the suit jacket. The clock's incessant ticking seemed to grow louder with each passing moment, mocking your indecision.

You needed to look like your old self, the trusted sister, and you’d worn clothes just like these a hundred times before. But now?

And with the added caveat of needing to have a brand new man on your arm and sell that he was a valid new part of your life, too?

You grabbed both hangers and went out into the living room of your apartment where Bucky had been patiently waiting for you.

Bucky's eyes widened slightly as you emerged from the bedroom, clothes in hand. He was sitting on the couch, hands in his lap, already dressed in a sharp looking suit with leather lapels - edgy but impressive. For a moment, you were struck by how different he looked from the dangerous operative turned superhero you knew him to be. He looked like he could effortlessly blend into the opulent setting you expected tonight.

"I can't decide," you admitted, your voice hesitant. "Which one do you think would be more… convincing?"

Bucky's gaze flickered between the two outfits, then back to your face. His expression softened, and you saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes.

"The dress," he said after a moment. "It's more in line with what you'd typically wear to these events, right? We don't want to raise any suspicions by changing your style too drastically."

You nodded, grateful for his insight. "You're right. Thank you."

As you turned to go back to the bedroom, Bucky's voice stopped you. "Hey," he said softly, his blue eyes searching your face. "We don't have to do this if you're not ready."

For a moment, you were tempted to take the out he was offering. To tell him you couldn't go through with it, that you'd made a mistake. But then you thought of your brother, of all the people he'd hurt, and you steeled yourself.

"No, I can do this. Besides,” you thought of all the things you’d learned in different meetings and conversations and reports today, “this is our best chance to get the information we need to bring him and the rest of the organization down.”

“But it doesn’t have to be you,” he insisted.

You tilted your head and smiled sadly. “But it should be.” They had been planning to try and infiltrate tonight’s gala before you had presented yourself, but with you, you were practically a golden ticket into the event and into so many more of the areas once inside.

Bucky nodded, a mix of admiration and concern in his eyes. "Alright. But remember, I'll be right there with you the whole time. If anything feels off, just give me the signal and we're out of there."

You nodded, grateful for his reassurance. As you headed back to the bedroom to change, you couldn't help but wonder how convincing you and Bucky would be as a couple. You'd only known each other for a day, and while he seemed kind and protective, there was still so much mystery surrounding him.

As you undressed, you tried to calm your racing thoughts. You'd been to countless events like this before, schmoozing with the elite and corrupt. But never as a double agent, never with the weight of so many lives hanging in the balance, and certainly not since discovering the secret that had shattered your world and opened up your eyes to the fact that everything your brother was involved in was corrupt and dangerous.

As you slipped into the black dress, you couldn't help but feel like you were putting on armor for battle. The silk clung to your skin, cool and familiar, yet somehow foreign now. You zipped it up, fingered the neckline, then pressed your hand to your heart and took a deep breath.

In the mirror, you saw the woman you used to be—poised, elegant, the perfect sister to a powerful man. But your eyes betrayed you, filled with a storm of emotions you'd have to learn to hide in the next few minutes.

You applied your makeup with practiced precision, each stroke of mascara and swipe of lipstick another layer of protection, of disguise. Once satisfied with your appearance, you squared your shoulders, and put the lipstick in your clutch.

You emerged from the bedroom, smoothing down the fabric of your dress. “I’m ready.”

Bucky’s eyes roamed over you appreciatively, and you felt something pool in your stomach - the attraction to this man you’d been trying to ignore since you’d been introduced to him early this morning. You could not have a crush on this man who was supposed to infiltrate your brother’s organization with you, steal information, and try and get both of you out safely.

It would be too much of a distraction.

Bucky's lips quirked into a small smile.

“What?” you asked, suspicious.

“You forgot your shoes,” he said simply.

You looked down and sighed.

“Nervous?” he asked, his tone kind, soft.

"Bucky," you said, looking back at him, "how are we supposed to explain your presence? Won't my brother be suspicious of a new man in my life?"

"We've got a cover story. I'm a potential new investor in your brother's 'business ventures.' You met me at a networking event last week and thought I'd be a good fit for tonight's gala."

You raised an eyebrow. "And you just happened to sweep me off my feet?”

"Something like that," Bucky replied with a roguish smile. "We'll keep it vague - a whirlwind romance, sparks flying. Your brother will be more focused on the potential investment than on our relationship."

You nodded, trying to quell the butterflies in your stomach. It wasn't just nerves about the mission now; the idea of pretending to be swept off your feet by Bucky wasn't entirely unpleasant.

"Right," you said, forcing yourself to focus. "I'll just go grab those shoes."

You hurried back to the bedroom, slipping on a pair of elegant black heels. As you turned to leave, your eyes fell on a framed photo on the nightstand - you and your brother at last year's gala, both smiling widely. Your stomach churned. How had you been so blind?

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the guilt down and away. You needed to do this. There was no other path in your mind now that you knew the truth. Your eyes flicked from the frame to the luggage packed next to your door. When you’d left yesterday, you hadn’t taken anything with you, not wanting to draw suspicion. With this return to your place and the cover of being swept into something with Bucky, it gave you the cover to pack some of your things - luggage that was being picked up and taken care of for you by one of this “rich investor’s” staff to go with you on a two-week vacation to a private island in the Phillippines. It was a perfect cover, provided you could sell it.

He was so handsome, with his dark hair styled perfectly and his strong jawline. Still sitting on the couch, he radiated confidence and charm, making it easy to see why he was chosen for this mission. You couldn't help but feel slightly nervous under his intense gaze.

Bucky's eyes flicked over your ensemble. "You look beautiful," he said, his voice low and husky.

Your heart skipped a beat at the compliment, feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny. "Thank you," you replied shyly.

You’d been so worried about all the other logistics of tonight, you hadn’t thought about the believability of you and Bucky until now.

“Come here,” he said, holding a hand out to you. You crossed the room and took it, gasping as he pulled you down to sit across his lap.

“Bucky,” you protested, insecure about sitting all of your plus-sized body in his lap. You had never been comfortable with your few previous partners in this situation, but he pressed one cool vibranium finger to your lips, while his other hand moved softly up and down your back.

“Don’t be nervous,” he whispered. “You’ll need to look comfortable around me when I touch you, and if your brother is going to believe you’ve agreed to go away with me tonight, I can’t touch you for the first time while we’re there.”

You nodded. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you shivered.

You felt a flush creep up your neck as Bucky's lips brushed your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, but you could feel the strength in his arms as he held you. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself further. He seemed unconcerned, even happy to hold all of you, and the contrast between his warm flesh hand and the cool metal of his other arm sent tingles down your spine.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your skin, his breath hot on your neck.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Your heart was racing, and you weren't sure if it was from nerves about the mission or the proximity of this dangerously attractive man.

Bucky's hand traced lazy circles on your back, and you found yourself relaxing into his touch despite your better judgment. "We need to look natural together," he explained softly. "Like we can't keep our hands off each other. It'll sell the whirlwind romance angle."

You swallowed hard, trying keep it together.

Bucky's hand continued its soothing motion up and down your back, and you found yourself leaning into his touch despite your better judgment.

"Tell me more about your brother," Bucky said softly. "What should I expect?"

You tensed slightly at the mention of your brother, but Bucky's steady presence kept you grounded. "He's… charming," you began, choosing your words carefully. "Charismatic. He can make anyone feel like the most important person in the room. But there's always an agenda behind it."

Bucky nodded, his fingers still tracing patterns on your back. "And how does he usually react to you bringing someone new around?"

You sighed, leaning your head against Bucky's shoulder. "He's protective. Suspicious. I haven’t brought many men around. He'll probably try to get you alone, size you up."

"I can handle that," Bucky assured you, his voice low and confident.

You lifted your head to look at him, suddenly struck by how close your faces were. His blue eyes were intense, searching yours. "Bucky," you whispered, "what if I can't pull this off?"

His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly across your skin. "We will," he said firmly. It didn’t escape your notice that he’d said we, not allowing you to feel alone. "You're stronger than you think, and I've got your back.”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Underneath that charm, he's calculating. Always looking for an angle, a way to use people. And he's dangerous when he feels threatened."

Before, you hadn’t questioned his cold side, thought it to usually be warranted, protective of you and the family and his organization. But now you knew better, illusion shattered.

Bucky nodded, his expression grave. "I'll be on high alert," he assured you. "We'll have to make sure he sees me as an asset, not a threat. But remember, we're not there to confront him tonight. Just to gather information."

"Right," you said, trying to calm your racing heart. "Just information."

Bucky's hand resumed landed on your thigh, and he squeezed reassuringly. You put your hand over his.

"Good," he murmured, eyes dropping down to your coupled hands. "That's the kind of reaction we need."

You nodded, trying to focus on the mission, on the act you needed to sell. But it was becoming increasingly difficult with Bucky's strong arm around you, his warm breath on your neck.

"We should practice," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "What if... what if we need to kiss?"

Bucky's eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and something darker, more intense. "Are you sure?"

You nodded, your heart racing. "We need to be convincing, right?"

Without another word, Bucky's hand slid to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. His lips met yours, soft at first, then with growing intensity. You melted into the kiss, your hands instinctively moving to his chest. The stubble on his jaw scratched lightly against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

For a moment, you forgot about the mission, about your brother, about everything except the feel of Bucky's lips on yours. It felt electric, a spark of something real amidst all the deception you were about to undertake. His metal arm tightened around your waist, and you gasped softly into his mouth.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Bucky's eyes were dark with desire. "That was..." he started, then cleared his throat. "That should be convincing enough.”

You nodded, unable to form words. The kiss had felt all too real, and you were struggling to remind yourself that this was just part of the act. You couldn't afford to develop real feelings for Bucky, not with everything at stake.

"We should go," you managed to say, glancing at the clock. "We don't want to be late."

Bucky nodded, but neither of you moved.

Then you leaned in and kissed him again. He returned your kiss, metal arm pulling you even closer. Your hands tangled into his hair, and you shifted in his lap so you could press your chest flush against his.

"We really should go," you murmured against Bucky's lips when you had to break off for another breath, but made no move to pull away.

He hummed in agreement, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. You melted into him, all thoughts of the mission momentarily forgotten. There was only the warmth of his body, the softness of his lips, the gentle scrape of his stubble against your skin.

Your hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the strength coiled beneath his suit jacket. Bucky's flesh hand slid from your hair down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps. You gasped softly at the contact, and he took the opportunity to trace your lower lip with his tongue. Heat pooled in your stomach as you parted your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss further.

His vibrainum hand continued its exploration down your body, while his warm, flesh hand stayed at the small of your back, anchoring you. You lost yourself in the sensation, forgetting for a moment about the dangerous mission ahead. Bucky's kisses were intoxicating, making you dizzy with desire. His metal hand traced the curve of your hip, sending shivers through your body.

Suddenly, the sharp ring of a phone cut through the haze of passion. You jerked away from Bucky, reality crashing back. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a sleek black device.

"It's time," he said, his voice husky. "The car's waiting downstairs."

You nodded, trying to catch your breath and calm your racing heart. As you stood up from his lap, you smoothed down your dress, acutely aware of how close you'd come to losing control.

Bucky rose as well, adjusting his tie and running a hand through his slightly mussed hair. His eyes met yours, filled with…

Filled with what, you weren’t sure.

If you made it out tonight, maybe you might have a chance to find out.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Read more stories from the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend!

👀

What do we think? Do we want to see more of them?

I think this could be a post-TFATWS and pre-Thunderbolts kind of thing maybe. idk.

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[highseas-swede]

Becoming Real

Recently Good Omens Prime Twitter account posted a BTS photo of Aziraphale and Furfur and it started the gears in my head turning, trying to parse it. It's only just now that it finally coalesced into a proper thought.

I kept thinking Aziraphale reminded me of something, especially when compared to the other angels. Look at him next to pre-Jim Gabriel, Uriel, Michael... heck, even Furfur, who he's standing next to right now.

Furfur is a demon, but his outfit is impeccable, it's sleek and stylish. The angel's suits in heaven are all pressed and flawless and New.

But not Aziraphale. He's dressed in old human clothes, his waistcoat is worn and tattered and long-loved. Aziraphale is, as Michael put it, like an old sofa. Worn and comfortable. He could choose to look basically however he wants, but instead he chooses to clothe himself in actual human clothes, to eat human food, to enjoy human entertainment - books, music, plays, etc. He does this despite the fact that it actively makes the other angels dislike him and find him unpalatable.

And that's what stuck out to me. Because unlike those other angels and demons, Aziraphale doesn't feel distant from humanity. He might be odd or eccentric to humans, but they don't question his humanity. He doesn't stand out to them in the way that the other angels do when they show up.

It occurred to me that this is because unlike the other angels... Aziraphale is Real.

Have you ever read The Velveteen Rabbit? There's a scene in it where they talk about what it means to be Real:

This made me think of Aziraphale. About how the other angels are these pristine things, kept aloof from the world, and then there's Aziraphale, who is worn and shabby, who's lived on earth for millennia among the humans. He's loved and learned and experienced what being human is like and because of that he's Real in a way that the other angels aren't. Humans have personhood, a sense of agency, a sense of self. Angels and demons have only the divine plan, as Beelzebub and Gabriel noted, that's all they live for "if you can call it living".

But what strikes me the most is how potentially devastating Aziraphale's Realness will be to Heaven. They only succeed at keeping angels in line because they're undistracted from the Great Plan. We see how Gabriel - as Jim - takes to cocoa after trying it. We see how quickly Muriel becomes fascinated with books.

Now consider that this is the angel they're putting in charge of Heaven. This worn, shabby, old sofa of an angel who has an endless well of love, for Crowley, for the world and the humans in it. He doesn't seem dangerous in the slightest. He seems Fragile.

But he is dangerous. So very dangerous.

But it's not because he's a guardian, not because he's a warrior, not because he's the Angel of the Eastern Gate who leads a battalion and was issued a flaming sword. He gave all of that away and it's worth noting that this is the first actual choice we see him make in the show, the thing that sets him apart in Crowley's eyes, and it wasn't even Crowley's doing! Aziraphale made a choice to give the mortals his sword out of compassion and it is a sense of compassion we don't see from the other angels.

His deviations all stem from that initial act. It takes him from being this two-dimensional cardboard entity existing only as part of the Divine Plan and set him on the path to actual Personhood.

It doesn't happen right away, of course, because as the Skin Horse says:

"It doesn't happen all at once. You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But those things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

And doesn't that sum up Aziraphale? He's shabby and worn and he's beautiful to the people who understand and appreciate that being Real means being imperfect, and that every imperfection is still beautiful.

No wonder the angels mock his corporation, his flaws, all the things he enjoys that make him less than what they think he should be. We see evidence over and over that Aziraphale is essentially "ugly" to them. But that's because they don't understand.

Aziraphale's Realness, his personhood, what Crowley has helped nurture from the Wall of Eden all the way to that last desperate kiss, is what really matters. Good Omens has always been about People being fundamentally People. It's the underlying current that ties everything together, for good or for ill. People have agency. People have self-actualization. People have the ability to make their own choices, for good or for evil.

And now Aziraphale has that too.

That's the very real danger he presents to heaven.

Because we've already seen that any angel, given sufficient time and interaction with humans could be like Aziraphale. All it takes is one small opening, one bite from the apple. Whether deliberately or not, Crowley tempted Aziraphale into every step, the way he tempted Eve in the garden. He gave Aziraphale the knowledge of Right and Wrong, presented him with the option, the way he did with humanity. Were they even really human before Crowley? Did he give them free will? His actions cast them out of paradise, but did it ultimately set them free? Has he struggled for millennia to do the same for the angel he's loved so well and for so long?

Does Crowley know how horribly, wonderfully well he succeeded?

Bringing Aziraphale back to Heaven, putting him in charge, was the absolute worst thing the Metatron could have done for keeping the status quo and it's not because of Aziraphale's fighting prowess. It's because of the small Human acts of kindness and pettiness that Aziraphale is capable of. That's not going to go away when he's in Heaven. It's going to spread. He's going to infect Heaven with Humanity. It's going to be so slow and gradual that they won't see it coming until it's far too late.

It's not going to be the way that Aziraphale intends to change Heaven and yet, it will surely ultimately be what really makes a difference.

I wonder too, if maybe that's some subconscious part of it. After seeing Gabriel change, seeing Muriel change, I wonder if there's not some part of Aziraphale that realizes that Heaven is a miserable place that makes miserable people. He'll extend compassion to them that they don't deserve and don't know they're missing and he'll surely go on with whatever his own Plan - with a capital P, of course - is and he won't even realize what he's actually done.

And then, like the ending of S1, like the ending of S2, the ultimate deciding factor will not be who is the best warrior, who is the strongest. It will be about the Human element.

Metatron thought he could control Aziraphale, bring him in line by bringing him back to Heaven. He wants to take away the human element of Aziraphale and shove him back into that Obedient Little Angel shaped mold and he doesn't realize it's not possible anymore. Aziraphale's grown. He'll never fit, he'll never be that again. There is no going back anymore.

As the Skin Horse says: "Once you are Real, you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always."

And Real things, things with depth and purpose and will, are impossible to ever truly control.

[willowser]

really what prompted my double boy dad bakugou post was the idea of his older son — who is six, nearing seven — coming out of his room with messy, sleep-mussed hair and wandering into the kitchen on an early morning when katsuki's getting ready for work.

and your youngest is a little terror. spoiled rotten, katsuki thinks, was too babied and that's why he doesn't listen and has temper tantrums in the middle of the floor and is already throwing punches at three. katsuki's old witch of a mother thinks he'll be bulkier than his older son and twice as mean, prone to pinning his brother to the ground until he's declared the greatest.

(katsuki feels both horror and pride, at the very thought.)

it hasn't always been easy for your oldest; becoming a big brother never is. not that katsuki would know what that's like, but he hated to even share a playground with deku, much less share his one and only mommy, so he can only imagine what his own son went through when his brother arrived.

but he's been great about it, which comes as no surprise because his oldest has always been great about everything. gets his little brother out of bed and reminds him of his manners—even as he's getting whacked—gives up his toys just so the baby won't cry. he's too smart for his own good, acting like a big boy now—and it makes katsuki nostalgic in a way that hurts.

there hasn't been a lot of time for just the two of them. not like there used to be.

so when his firstborn comes to stand beside him in the kitchen, to lean his head against his dad's hip and rub at his sleepy eyes—katsuki just ruffles his already messy hair, before giving his ear a little tug.

"should be asleep," he grumbles to him, "sun's not even up yet."

his son only shrugs, yawns hard; despite this, he says, "'m not tired."

katsuki snorts and continues with his routine: finishes his protein shake, gives the kid a sip when he thinks he wants one (he doesn't really, though he tries not to make a face at the taste as he nods, as if he likes it), makes sure he's got all his work shit in his bag for patrol later. and his son is mostly quiet, content to share in the morning just between the two of them after katsuki sits him on the counter.

and then he asks, "can i come to work with you?"

on instinct, katsuki glances at his shut bedroom door, where you're still fast asleep, on the other side, and then down the hallway to where his youngest is sleeping, too.

technically, the kid probably could because you're off work today, and you could come pick him up later before katsuki has to head out, but—

"your brother won't be happy if i take you and not him."

and your oldest is a good big brother. has more patience than katsuki ever did, knows how to share—but on this morning that the two of them are indulging in, he only shrugs.

"well," he sighs—and he sounds so grown up, sounds like you when you're leveling with katsuki. "if he wanted to go then he should have got up, too."

"that why you're awake?" katsuki frowns, though his son only shrugs again. the idea that he's gotten up way too early, at the ass-crack of dawn just to have some extra time with his dad is too—

"yeah," katsuki murmurs, nodding at him to hop off the counter. "get your socks on so we can go."

there won't be anything for him to do in the agency office, besides get an endless amount of cups of water from the dispenser and all the candy in the receptionist's bowl and attention from the older ladies that thinks he's just so stinking cute.

but at least they'll be together, just the two of them. like old times.

[artsninspo]

FORGIVELESS - IV - YOU DON'T MIND SECOND FIDDLE, THAT'S WHY YOU A BITCH 🎻

Full Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

RIO MASTERLIST

IV - YOU DON'T MIND SECOND FIDDLE, THAT'S WHY YOU A BITCH 🎻

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: ~2.4K

Warning: Messy, mature themes & 🌶️ implied, a bit of a domestic situation.

Summary: The rendezvous with Rio continue causing James to spiral. only women are better cheaters. Rio proposes something outside of his previous boundaries. Japan is revealed while you get to keep your secret about Rio a little longer.

Sitting in front of the mirror pleased with your makeup you go over excuses in your head. You’ve set up the perfect situation. You’ve overheard James whispering and arguing on the phone. Japan’s been blowing his line up. You already know your husband is suspicious of you but everyday you care a little less. Your own indiscretions with Rio let you know how much work it is to be dishonest. Chasing the highs of being a well off young professional has your husband thinking too much of himself and now he’s paying with his eroding marriage. It’s Rio who’s been consistent for a man who doesn’t think he's the relationship type. Looking yourself, you smile, feeling sexy. It’s become a familiar feeling again with Rio.  Heading downstairs you find James sitting on the couch which is a rarity for a Friday night. Usually he has some more important plans than spending time with you.

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“Friends bachelorette” you smile.

“Which friend?” he asks.

“Marlène from yoga, I was invited.” you tell him.

“Marlène” he says trying to register the name. “I can drive you there and pick you up” he offers.

“No need babe, I don’t drink” you remind him.

“How late?” he asks.

“Maybe 2 or 3 the latest” you tell him.

“Okay, maybe we should keep a calendar so we can keep up with each other's schedules. In case I want to surprise you” he suggests.

“Sure, I’ll see you in a bit” you smile waving.

“Hold up, we were invited to the wedding?” He asks standing as he makes his way over to you.

“I declined the invite. I know how busy you get.” You respond. 

“Next time, ask me first. I love you and I want to do what it takes to make you happy. I know it’s been hard since the move but I’m here and I’m in this and I miss you.” He says. All it took was some distance for him to shape up and pay attention.

“Ok” you nod pecking his lips and when he deepens the kiss, it's all wrong. The passion isn’t there, or if it is it doesn’t mix well with his lies and betrayal. You’re relieved when he pulls away. Your heart isn’t racing, there's no tingles or butterflies. Your heart settles a little knowing the sun has set on your marriage. You force a smile heading out to the car. Standing there James is struck with panic, sure now more than ever he’s losing you.

Heading out you meet a new group of friends at one of Rio’s clubs. It’s a bachelorette party. You remember yours. You’d been too young to be considered someone’s wife and so excited to do whatever James asked of you. It’s bittersweet memories. Had you known then what you know now you wouldn't have walked down the aisle. A cheater, a liar, a coward and your husband. Mentally you decide to file the next time you have some free time or at least get the papers. Once the liquor starts flowing between the girls you call Rio as planned. The thrill is still there, it’s how you're making it through this tough time. Reclaiming your agency as a woman. Rejecting the treatment you once settled for. Doing James just as bad. It’s dark when Rio rolls up to the back entrance of his establishment. It's only been fifteen minutes since you made the call, he gets out his G-Wagon matching it in all black. His hands go into the pockets of his black denim jacket as he waits against the passenger door. You dont waste any time heading to him. His smile is the same as always as his eyes look you over in appreciation. Rio never misses the details. Stepping aside he opens the door helping you into the truck. 

“You good?” He asks and you nod as he pulls off. 

“You?” You ask.

“Mhm” he nods. The silence is comfortable and Rio keeps a hand on your thigh possessively as he drives to his place. You notice he’s not here with you and somewhere else in his thoughts when he passes the exit to his place.

“Rio, you missed the exit” you tell him.

“I’m taking you to my place” he mutters looking over at you. You swallow feeling the new reality between you has changed. You're no longer on quicksand, you're in it. You don't respond feeling comfortable with the decision. You place your hand over his on your thigh.

“I gotta go out of town for a few days,” he says, breaking the silence.

“How long is a few days” you ask.

“Three, I was hoping you could come with me,” Rio says, shocking you. It’s what had been on his mind. If he left it would give James the opportunity to slither his way back into your good graces and probably lead to a reconciliation. Something Rio didn't want to even entertain the possibility of for his own selfish reasons, among the principal of things.

“Come with you?” you ask.

“That’s what I said, what I fuck you so good you cant hear now?” he remarks and you hit him playfully.

“Shut up” you laugh.

“You coming or what?” he asks and you look him over.

“Where are you heading?” you ask.

“Mexico for my cousin's wedding. I have a plus one” Rio says casually.

“I would love to but with all I have going on it’s not the right time” you sigh.

Rio’s nostrils flare in frustration “So what?”

You sigh, “Rio, leaving the country to be your date looks bad.”

“Fuck everyone who would question you after you say he stepped out” Rio snaps.

“Rio you’re being unreasonable” you respond.

“What about me gives off reasonable?” he responds and you smile. He’s right from day one he’s been a handful.

“Rio” you start.

“Tell him whatever he needs to hear, then bring your ass to Mexico with me.” he demands like it's not even a question.

“You want me held up in your room like a sex slave for a few days” You scoff.

“Shit the roleplaying might get you off” he shrugs still upset that you aren't jumping up and down like most women. Rio doesn't like having to compete for your time with the ego of a man that doesnt deserve you even a little.

“You’re being an ass” you smile, rolling your eyes at him playfully. He comes in for a kiss and your phone rings. You look at the caller ID and see it’s James. Rio sighs and you follow suit. You let it ring out but he calls again. After the third ring Rio turns on his sound system to mimic the club before hitting the answer.

“James?” You say.

“What time are you getting home? It's after one” he says.

“I don’t know I’m having fun” you lie.

“I’ll come meet you” he offers.

“No, go out with your friends. Don’t wait up.” You shout.

“No, I miss you and I want to make love to my wife tonight.” The thought alone is off putting. When your eyes re-open from the disgusted shudder you find Rio watching you pissed.

“Sorry I can’t hear you, I’ll see you in a bit. Bye!” You shout hanging up.

“You’re gonna have to tell him you know,” Rio says.

“I’m not ready to play pretend with my family or his. It’ll take time away from you and I'm having fun.” You explain knowing how it’ll work. Women were expected to be distraught, hurt or psychotic after infidelity from their husbands. Your callously orchestrated revenge will be vilified and used as justification for his indiscretions in the beginning. You’ll be burned at the stake for not lying down and taking disrespect.

“Think he’s shitting himself now? When he knows you know and sees you riding around with me, me taking you out treating you right. Then what?” Rio says onto your lips kissing you. The thought of James getting his just due is desert for the both of you. Your moans are audible as his lips kiss you down your neck. His hands hold you there firmly.

“Are you listening?” He asks.

“Yes” you nod.

“Good” his voice softens his dark eyes holding yours.

“He doesn’t get to touch you, doesn’t get to sleep beside you, doesn’t get to see you undressed, nothing. His time’s up mama.” His words are slow and deliberate. He’s placed his claim. His possession is all in his eyes. “Handle it, Love, or I will” he warns, incapable of sharing. You don’t even make it to the bathroom. Rio has his way with you on the couch talking you through it. He fights for control over what he’s feeling and channels all his jealousy and possessiveness into making you feel good enough to want him. Enough to forget about the feelings of a man that did not consider yours or upkeep his vows. You spend the night christening his home and the morning is everything you hoped morning’s with James would be like in this new city. Slow and full of comfortable silences based on quality time. Rio typically did not talk too much, not needing to but today was different. He wanted to put an end to Jame’s hold on you. To James being a two timing fuck waling around like he owns the world. He wanted James to pay for blowing up your life. By the time you leave Rio’s place it’s 9am. That’s how little fucks you have left to give. You don’t expect James to be waiting at the house when you arrive but he’s sitting in the living room fuming mad. His eyes go to your rings first. When they are located he calms down just a touch.

“Where the fuck have you been!” He snaps through gritted teeth, standing and closing the distance and sniffing you like a dog. It’s how you should treat him.

“Don’t talk to me like that!” You shout triggered.

“You’re not walking out of this house again to go anywhere without me. Matter of fact, give me your phone!” He snaps grabbing your purse from your arm. He finds your phone unlocking it with Face ID and going through it. Instead of fighting him you go for his phone on the island knowing you’re in the clear. You search to find the messages have degraded into arguing instead of steamy exchanges. The blue flame between James and his mistress has faded into contention with him trying to be more present in his marriage. It’s against everything the mistress wants to hear. Little miss Japan is pulling out the stops. Her revised attempts at luring your husband away from you flip a switch. You clear the counter throwing two vases at him in succession. He fails to duck away from the first one hitting him in the chest. The other douses him with water before shattering on the ground.

“I should’ve known you were cheating!” you scream, snapping him out of his rage. Fear flashes in his expression. “All the accusations! Neglect, no sex, it was all here” you snap holding up his phone. Tears well as you release the secret you’ve been keeping in for the past few weeks. You send the phone flying at him too. The device hits him in the chest and you snatch yours from him. “That’s how you’d let some women speak about me and talk to you. You dirty low down fuck!” You add feeling your hands and face heat from the rage.

“Baby” he panics “It was a mistake.”

“Don’t call me baby, matter of fact don't call me anything! Don’t call me!” You cry getting your keys and heading out. “Japan, Japan, Japan, whole time Japan is a fucking woman that you’re seeing!” you continue your tirade.

“Y/N!” He snaps. “I’m sorry. I can explain, listen to me.” His words mean nothing and you keep on heading to your car. He grabs you violently.

“I said I’m sorry!” he asserts with a mixture of anger and panic.

“You are and I’m done with you” you pull away but he grabs you. You try to free yourself but he’s too strong. You struggle against him as you and him exchange unheard feelings at a high volume. He wins the struggle.

“I said I’m sorry! I made a mistake but I love you!” He shouts, shaking you and your heart races as you see all the threads you’ve been picking at are loose. You want to stick the nail in the coffin but you don't. Instead you look at him with all the hate you feel for the predicament his actions have created. 

“I hate you and you’ll regret it I promise” you snap, turning to face him as you open the garage. Fear turns from panic to rage again at your threat. He grabs your arm unlike ever before. “Get out my face and let me go. Go be where you’ve been with her.” you snap pushing him off. 

“Don’t walk away from me and don’t threaten me!” He snaps as you get to your car. Before you get in he grabs your hood, yanking you back.

“What’s going on here?” An officer interrupts. Just the way his eyes fall on you it’s clear he’s been sent by Rio. James steps back and you readjust your neckline.

“I’m trying to leave and he won’t let me” you speak frankly. You hear James gasp in shock at your betrayal.

.

“She’s my wife. Officer I just want to speak with her” James says. You look him over and see he’s all wet. It definitely looks like a domestic dispute.

“Do you want to speak with him?” the officer asks you.

“No” you respond and the officer opens your car door. You get in.

“Y/N!” James shouts.

“Keeping her here against her will with force is something I can charge you with” the officer informs your asshole soon to be ex-husband.

“It’s a marital disagreement,” James says, trying to turn on the charm. It doesn’t work on the officer who gives him a final glare before walking out with you. 

“Stay put” he snaps at James. “Are you alright?” he asks and you nod, adjusting your sweater and clothes. 

“Yes”

“Did he hit you?”

“No officer he didn’t” you confess honestly.

“Go see Rio” the cop whispers before closing the car door. You’re a little startled at how perceptive you are and pull out of the driveway to head to Rio’s place. You find him pissed and pacing. His eyes go to your stretched out collar but he keeps his thoughts to himself offering you comfort and a hug. He ignores his phone ringing and you ignore yours until James stops calling and it’s your mom. you already know. James is in damage control mode.

Thanks for reading my loves, theres more mess to come - I promise. Keep on, liking, commenting and sending over ideas. I hope those of you who send some in liked seeing them integrated in the story. What was your favorite part?

NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS:

@meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Six: And I Knew My Heart Wasn't Mine

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling in love. Finally some smut-ish stuff. Dry humping on the couch. Joel is his own warning. Tommy keeping it real. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad.

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Some of the tags aren't working in the taglist - if you're not getting the notifications, please check your settings to make sure you are taggable. Thx!

Chapter Five | Main Masterlist

Sitting at the kitchen table on Sunday morning, you reviewed an email on your phone from the Texas Education Agency. Relief washed over you. The State Board finally approved your certification after jumping through a million hoops, just in time for your upcoming meeting at Sarah’s school.

Yet another step closer to finally feeling like an actual adult contributing to society.

“Morning, Spud,” your dad greeted as he walked into the kitchen in search of his morning coffee. “You’re up early. Did you have fun with Sarah yesterday?”

“I figured I’d seize the day and all that. I had a blast yesterday! Sarah is so smart, and Joel was really nice, as always,” you replied, playing down quite how much of a roll Joel had in making the day so enjoyable. You still couldn’t believe how things worked out.

Joel Miller, dead sexy single father, liked you, wanted to be with you. Little morsels of doubt tried to weasel their way into your mind, trying to make you question what was so special about you that a man like Joel would be interested in. You shook those thoughts away, resolving to believe that you deserved someone like him, someone who liked you for who you were and not who they wanted you to be.

“He comes from good stock, that Joel,” your dad interrupted you’re wandering thoughts. “Not sure what happened with Tommy, though. Musta been dropped on his head as a baby or somethin’.”

“Dad!” you laughed, shaking your head. “There’s nothing wrong with the guy. He’s young, single, and unburdened by responsibility. I imagine you were like that once upon a time.”

“Musta been so long ago I can’t remember,” he replied, hip checking you into the counter when you stood to place your glass in the sink. “Watch yourself there, Spud.”

“Jeez, thanks, Dad,” you replied with an amused eye roll. Your dad watched as you tidied up your little mess from breakfast and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

“You know, Spud. You’d do well to find a man like Joel. He’s a really good guy. Shame he doesn’t date. All the women go crazy over him.”

Your dad kept going on about Joel’s aversion to dating, but your mind froze on that one simple statement – you’d do well to find a man like Joel. You tuned back in just in time to hear him say, “He needs to settle down with a girl like you. Someone smart and responsible who’ll still give him a run for his money.”

Practically bursting with the urge to admit that you and Joel just officially started seeing each other, you curled your lips between your teeth and just nodded. You promised Joel you’d wait a bit before mentioning anything to your dad and you planned on keeping that promise. “He should be so lucky to find someone like me,” you sassed finally.

The day carried on as you spent some quality time with your dad watching TV and lounging around. It was refreshing and relaxing, reminding you of times past where the two of you spent a bunch of time together.

The urge to text you plagued Joel all day Sunday, distracting his attention from the football game until Tommy finally snatched the phone out of his hands and hid it.

“Enough, brother. You’re like a lovesick fool checking your phone every five fuckin’ seconds. You just spent the day together yesterday. Give her a little breathin’ room,” Tommy chastised. “Women like a little mystery after all.”

Flopping back into the couch cushions with a huff, Joel crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t want to play games with her, Tommy. None of that aloof, hard to get bullshit.”

Shaking his head, Tommy waited until a commercial break to turn to his brother again. “I’m not sayin’ to play games. I’m just sayin’ you don’t need to be up her ass 24/7. You’ll see her every day this week. It’s ok to build up a little healthy anticipation today.”

Joel knew his brother had a point. He just couldn’t help himself. It’d been so long since he felt like this about someone – if he ever really did before – and it was messing with his head. Berating himself for not even kissing you yesterday, Joel wanted to at least text with you today. It felt somehow wrong to not talk to you.

Then again, you hadn’t texted him either.

Tommy made a valiant effort to distract Joel from his thoughts, talking statistics about the game and the players, anything to get the guy talking. It only worked for so long before Tommy couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, how ‘bout this. I’ll take Sarah for a dinner and ice cream date tomorrow so you two can spend some time alone. Get a little action in and maybe that’ll help you get your head out of the clouds.”

For the first time in hours, Joel’s face lit up. “You sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer otherwise,” Tommy replied. “You two need to figure out if there’s something there and you can’t do that with a ten-year-old hanging around all the time. Not unless you want to scar her for life.”

Joel nodded, reaching out to take his phone back. Before letting go of it, Tommy grinned. “I already texted her for you. You’re welcome.”

Ripping his phone out of his brother’s hand, Joel scrolled through his text messages to find what Tommy sent you.

JM: Hey sweetheart. Netflix and chill tomorrow?

He only knew what that meant because of Tommy and you had to know that wasn’t something Joel would say. “Jesus fucking Christ, Tommy!” Joel growled, his ears turning red from what you must think. He was about to really lay into his brother for overstepping when you responded.

You: Netflix and chill, huh? Sounds like my kinda date 😉

Not expecting that response, Joel chuckled. Maybe Tommy knew exactly what he was doing after all.

“Like I said, you’re welcome,” Tommy teased when he saw the goofy smile on his brother’s face.

Joel ignored him, proceeding to ask you about your day. The two of you texted back and forth well into the night until it was time for bed.

Climbing between the cold sheets of his large, empty bed, Joel wished you were there with him. He could already imagine you there, falling asleep together after a romp or two, waking up next to you in the morning. It sounded like heaven to him.

Hmm, maybe he could Netflix and chill his way to convincing you to spend the night tomorrow.

You didn’t know what to expect when you walked into Joel’s house Monday morning, but it certainly wasn’t a flustered Joel, knelt on the floor, staring down at a mess of pancake mix surrounding him and Sarah giggling her little heart out at the breakfast table.

“What happened here?” you asked, hands on your hips and eyes surveying the damage. “Did you have a fight with the boxed pancake mix.”

“He really did!” Sarah exclaimed, still laughing. “It went everywhere!”

“I see that,” you replied, grinning at her before turning back to Joel.

He stared up at you with wide, sad eyes and shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t get it open and then it just…” His arms spread wide, gesturing at the powdery mess on the tile in such an endearing way. You couldn’t stop your smile from growing wider.

“Go finish getting ready for work. I’ll get Sarah some cereal and clean this mess up,” you directed, gently pulling him to his feet and around the mess.

“You shouldn’t have to clean up my mess, sweetheart,” Joel replied, pulling you in for a hug. You could tell the warm press of your bodies together made him feel better and you basked in it as well, not minding the bit of pancake mix that transferred to your clothes.

“Don’t worry, I got it. Now git!” One hand swatted at his ass playfully as he rushed out of the room. “Now, what kind of cereal do you want, nugget?”

Fifteen minutes later, Joel returned to find the mess gone and you running a mop over the tile to wipe away any last remnants of the pancake mix disaster. Sarah already finished her cereal and was upstairs brushing her teeth before it was time to head to school. When you put the mop back into the bucket, Joel crept up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you close until your back was flush against his chest.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he breathed in your ear, sending a flood of goosebumps down your arms. Joel pressed his lips to the spot just below your ear and left a trail of kisses down your neck. The feel of his lips on your skin exceeded any expectations you had, and a contented sigh left your own lips.

With a hurried tenderness, he spun you around in his arms, the mop forgotten as it nearly fell out of the bucket. Faces close together now, your eyes drank in every detail of him from the richness of his dark brown eyes, the curve of his nose, the purposeful stubble of his beard, and, finally, to the fullness of his bottom lip. You could feel his eyes doing the same, drinking in every bit of your face before tilting his head impossibly closer.

“I’m going to kiss you now, ok?” Joel murmured; lips nearly pressed to yours already and you hummed in approval.

After all the weeks of mutual pining and self-doubt, Joel finally kissed you. It started as a soft press of lips and quickly morphed into an overwhelming need to devour each other when his tongue teased along the seam of your lips, begging entry to deepen the kiss. Teeth knocked together and tongues tangled as you tasted each other – somehow, the taste of coffee was suddenly appealing when it came from Joel’s mouth.

Hands wandered – his over your curves and yours into his luscious, dark curls. Joel’s hair felt as silky as it looked, and you had been itching to get your fingers in it from the moment you met him.

The sound of Sarah’s footsteps bouncing down the stairs broke the two of you apart, breathless, and dazed.

“Wow,” Joel murmured, struggling to remove his hands from your waist.

You smiled up at him, equally unwilling to remove your fingers from his hair. “Exactly,” you whispered, stepping back with your hands at your side just as Sarah entered the kitchen.

“I’m ready!” she declared excitedly and you both grinned at her cuteness.

“Okay, nugget. Let’s head out.”

Heart melting in your chest, you watched Joel and Sarah do their morning routine of saying goodbye. The love between the two of them was so strong it was like a tangible thing you could hold in your hands. Nostalgia washed over you as memories of your own childhood, moments like this with your dad, flooded your mind. What you had with your dad, what Joel and Sarah had together, was a connection that would never fade, only grow stronger with time.

Briefly, you wondered if your evolving relationship with Joel would affect that connection, interfere with it in anyway. You couldn’t move forward with him if that was the case. Some woman showing up and changing the dynamic between you and your dad would have upset you as a child and you refused to be the cause of any upset Sarah felt.

When the two of them stepped back from their hug and grinned at you, any question about your place in their dynamic washed down the drain. You felt nearly dizzy with relief when Sarah quickly said, “Give her a hug, too, Daddy,” and shoved him as hard as she could in your direction.

With a chuckle, Joel gave in to Sarah’s demand, wrapping his arms around you. The broadness of him surrounded you, enveloping you in warmth and a sense of security you’d not experienced before. Was that what love felt like?

“Have a good day, darlin’. I’ll see you later,” Joel’s deep voice was but a whisper in your ear, his lips just grazing your earlobe. “I’m looking forward to tonight.”

Warmth raced up your neck to your cheeks and you squeezed your thighs together in anticipation of what you hoped would happen later. “You have a good day too, Joel. Be careful, ok?”

“Always, darlin’.” He winked as you led Sarah out the front door to your car.

The journey to Sarah’s school started off quietly, Sarah bopping along to the music on the radio as you navigated the morning traffic. Your thoughts wandered to what you should wear later when Sarah startled you with a sudden question.

“Are you my dad’s girlfriend now?”

She asked the question so nonchalantly that you weren’t sure how to respond. Would she be upset with whatever answer you gave? Was there even a right or wrong answer? What did she want to hear? Mind racing, you settled on asking Sarah a question in return.

“Would you be upset if I was?”

Tilting her head side to side a few times, the little girl contemplated her answer while you held your breath. She turned to you with a smile so big it scrunched up her nose. “Nope! It’d make me really happy.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows were nearly at your hairline.

“Uh huh. You’re the coolest and prettiest. My dad would be lucky if you were his girlfriend,” Sarah admitted with all the confidence and knowledge of a ten-year-old. Another head tilt and she added, “So, are you?”

Equal parts amazed and grateful for Sarah’s acceptance of the idea, you opted for honesty. “I mean, I don’t know,” you shrugged. How could you explain what you had to a 10-year-old? “We haven’t talked about naming it yet, but we did decide to see how we like being together. Does that make sense?”

Sarah gave it a moment of thought. “Yeah, I think so. It’s kinda like how you’re a teacher, but not officially until you get the job, right?”

You laughed at the comparison with a nod. “Exactly. I’m as good as your dad’s girlfriend, we just haven’t made titles official yet.” You pulled up in front of the school and it was Sarah’s turn to get out. “Now get going, nugget. Have a good day!”

The little girl bounced out of the car, calling out to one of her friends. Just before you pulled away, you heard Sarah tell the other girl that you were her dad’s not-yet girlfriend.

The day absolutely dragged. Joel could swear that time went backwards every time he looked at a clock. It didn’t help that every single subcontractor gave him a hard time about something today.

The roof trusses arrived six weeks early and the sub refused to take them back even though the damn things would rot before they got to the roofing phase of construction. The company he rented the extra backhoe from wanted to raise their rates in the middle of his contract. The list went on and Joel ran out of patience three hours ago.

The only thing holding him together was the thought of you. Spending time with you. Kissing you. Touching you. Burying himself inside you… He adjusted himself with a sigh. Damn, he needed to put those particular thoughts on ice before he got himself riled up. The workday was shitty enough, he didn’t need the guys giving him a hard time about an untimely chub in his pants.

Finally, Joel had enough of everyone’s bullshit and called it a day, leaving his foreman in charge of the worksite.

“Off to doll yourself up, are ya?” Tommy teased as Joel headed for his truck. Gesturing in the general direction of Joel’s crotch, he added, “You remember how to use that thing? Make sure to clear out the cobwebs and use protection!”

“Jesus, Tommy,” Joel grumbled, climbing into his truck, and driving off. He knew his brother was only teasing, but Joel was nervous enough as it was. He didn’t need Tommy getting in his head. He did have a point about protection, though.

A quick stop at the convenience store to grab a box of condoms, Joel made it home before you and Sarah. Putting on some 90s rock, he jumped in the shower, putting in the extra effort to tidy himself up down there. He wondered if you preferred pubic hair or not. Fearing he was getting way ahead of himself, Joel opted to just trim his down and hoped for the best.

By the time he finished trimming his facial hair and tousling his curls, you and Sarah were downstairs, working on her homework. As he walked down the stairs, Joel could hear you encouraging his daughter to think the questions through and congratulating her when she got the answers right. His heart grew three sizes watching how you were with Sarah. You held his whole world in the palm of your hand and treasured it like the precious cargo it was.

Joel was falling so hard for you. You were quickly gaining the power to destroy him.

“Hi Daddy!” Sarah called out when she spotted him in the doorway. “We just finished my math homework. Can I play in the backyard?”

He set up a tire swing on the large live oak out back a week ago and it quickly became his little girl’s happy place. “Of course, nugget. Come give your old man a hug first.” Bending down, Joel swept Sarah up in his arms, biceps stretching his shirt sleeves as he swung her around in a circle. Sarah’s laughter echoed through the room, and you smiled sweetly at the pair of them.

“Uncle Tommy’s coming to take you out for dinner and ice cream in a bit. Ok?” Sarah nodded when he settled her back on her feet and raced for the sliding door. Once she was out of sight and earshot, Joel turned to you. “Come ‘ere, darlin’,” he said, voice deep and velvety.

Your body followed his command without conscious thought, so great the need to be in his arms. “I thought about you all day,” you admitted, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“Me, too. Could hardly focus on the job thinking about you and spending this evening together.” He tightened his arms around you, head bending to seal his lips to yours. When your lips parted at his prompting, Joel teased your plush bottom lip with his teeth. “It’s like a tasty little gummy worm,” he teased. “I could nibble on it all day.”

You moaned into his mouth, the little breathless sound music to his ears.

The kiss deepened until you were licking into each other’s mouths, hands wandering and grasping for purchase on any piece of real estate you could reach. Neither of you heard the front door open or the footsteps approaching the kitchen.

“Am I interrupting somethin’?” he asked cheekily as the two of you sprang apart, disheveled and gasping for breath.

Joel ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes for a moment to gather himself. “Excellent timing as always, brother.”

“Y’all just couldn’t wait five more minutes, could ya?” Tommy’s grin a mile wide as he teased. “Lemme get the nugget out of here before you two scar her for life.”

You tucked your face into Joel’s shoulder bashfully when Tommy slipped through the sliding door. Joel groaned and wrapped his arms around you. “Don’t mind him, darlin’. He just likes to bust my balls.”

Ten minutes later, after some hugs from Sarah and more teasing from Tommy, you and Joel were alone. Taking your hand, he led you to the couch. He hoped you didn’t notice that his rough palms were sweaty with nerves. You were abnormally quiet, and he wondered if you were nervous as well.

Seated a few inches apart, the tension became too much. “What are you in the mood for?” Joel asked, breaking the silence as he pulled up Netflix on the TV. He barely logged into his account when you suddenly straddled his lap.

“Hi,” you said when he stared at you in surprise. “You know what I’m in the mood for?”

“What?” He barely got his mouth to form the word, his brain short circuiting with you in his lap. His grip on the remote loosened, yet neither of you cared when it fell to the ground.

“You.”

There was a moment where you both froze, each waiting for the other to act first. Then the tension snapped, and Joel’s lips crashed against yours. His tongue danced along the seam of your lips until you opened them to let him in. Tongues tangled in a never-ending dance as your hips tilted, grinding down on him. Joel was uncomfortably hard in moments, pressing up against your warmth.

His hands were everywhere, fingers tenderly tracing the structure of your cheekbones, down the curve of your neck, along the swell of your breasts. They finally settled, grabbing handfuls of your ass to pull you impossibly closer. You moaned into his mouth, hips bucking in search of more friction.

Gasping for breath, Joel tore his mouth from yours, his hands urging your hips into a rhythm as you dry humped him. His mouth left a trail of scorching kisses down your neck, eliciting a wave of goosebumps to flow down your arms. Your hips rocked, gliding across his hardened length and Joel swore he could feel your wetness breaching through the layer of clothes separating you.

Fuck, how he wanted to taste you, get high on your sweet nectar. He knew, just knew in that primal way, that yours would be the best pussy he ever tasted. His cock swelled impossibly harder at the mere thought of burying his face between your legs.

“Jooooeeelllll.” His name coming from your luscious lips in a drawn-out moan caused his own hips to buck up into you, hitting just the right spot to make you both see stars from the friction alone. His mouth sucked little marks into your neck, leaving his left ear exposed to your mouth as crooned, “I’m gonna come, fuck. You’re gonna make me come in my panties, Joel.”

“Fuck, darlin’. Come all over me, pretty girl. I want to see you fall apart from grinding on me like this. Drench those panties.” Joel sat back a little, just enough to watch your face as your orgasm swept over you. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, eyes rolled back in your head, mouth hanging open in a silent ‘o’ as you trembled above him, delicate hands clenching the meat of his shoulders for balance. A little sheen of sweat dusted your hairline. Fucking beautiful.

Joel was absolutely certain he could feel you drenching his pants as you came, your breath finally coming back in a sharp exhale. He had never been so turned on in his life. Watching you come apart for him, feeling it seep through the layers of clothing became too much. For the first time in his adult life, Joel Miller came in his pants with a desperate whimper.

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx @skysmiller @missladym1981 @marirxse

[leqonsluv3r]

bf!leon kennedy

—ID!leon kennedy x soft!croquette reader, a headcanon list

masterlist taglist

an: i cannot be controlled anymore. i promised i’d make it a series and im delivering slowly but surely. have faith in me lol, im doing my best to get requests out. i have them closed currently just so i can catch up and write them all in a timely manner. enjoy ID!bf leon kennedy in the mean time.

bf!leon kennedy who is getting too old for the soft cream sheets on your bed, he wants to just rip them off and demand something more mature. but he knows you wouldn’t like that. you practically yell at him anytime he tosses one of your stuffed animals too hard off the bed.

bf!leon kennedy who takes you out to dinner, makes sure your happy. he knows he’s not around as much as he should be so he takes the time when he can to treat you special. your his girl, he needs to.

bf!leon kennedy who makes sure your sleeping constantly when your next to him, even when he wakes up from nightmares. your scent of jasmine and laundry detergent makes him at ease, proves that everything is real and he’s really here with you.

bf!leon kennedy who lets you pack him notes in his lunch when he heads to the agency everyday. your cursive hand writing is sloppy but adorable, always writing for him to have a good day and that you love him. he’s just happy he has you to remind him when things get hard.

bf!leon kennedy who lets you press kisses all over him and hug him to death whenever he comes home unscathed from a mission or just a regular day at the agency. he loves when you show your love for him, always making him feel special and good. like all the things he had endured at this point have been worth it.

bf!leon kennedy who takes you shopping on his days off, not happy he has to stand around and hold your bags. but when you try your cute little skirts and dresses on, it makes it a tiny bit worth it. you would look pretty in a paper bag and he would still look at you all the same.

bf!leon kennedy who has your morning and nighttime skincare routine down, he watches you do it every morning and every night, never knowing that so many pieces came with you looking so pretty and gorgeous for him. but anything to make you happy, even if you don’t need all that to be beautiful in his eyes.

bf!leon kennedy who watches you organize your books on your bookshelf, clean up your shared space of your guys shared bedroom. all your little knickknacks and jewelry and frilly clothes. he doesn’t know how you do it, or why you like such a mundane looking room, but if it pleases you, it’s fine with him.

bf!leon kennedy who lets you crawl on-top of him in the early hours of the morning before he goes to work and press kisses everywhere. your lips pressing across his jaw, his cheeks, his neck and his lips. any place your pretty little self can reach, he’s letting you do it. you waking him up like this is another reason why his heart is so enamored with you in the first place.

bf!leon kennedy who helps you when you need to wash all your stuffed animals and sheets, helping you with chores. he likes being domestic with you, it makes him feel like he’s normal, like this is a normal life. like this matters, like his life has purpose with you.

bf!leon kennedy who drives you to the park or to the plant nursery so you can be around nature. he loves how you admire each plant anytime your out like this, the way you care for such things. it makes him happy to see you enjoying such a small part of life, gives him hope.

bf!leon kennedy who celebrates your guys three year anniversary, buying you anything and everything you want. taking you out all day. he cooks for you and makes your favorite dish, he buys you pink roses. he lets you dress in your dress and be all pretty for him.

bf!leon kennedy who eats with you, talking with you like he normally did everyday. but this time it’s different and leon is going to prove just how much he loves you. he slides a box out and watches your face change. you open the box and feel your eyes water when you see a diamond engagement ring.

bf!leon kennedy who watches as you nod rapidly, pretty tears and say yes over and over again. he slips it on your finger and smiles softly at you, watching as you practically hop over the table and hug and kiss him like your life depends on it. you smother him and kisses, tangling your sweet mouth with his.

bf!leon kennedy, who is very proud to not call himself your boyfriend anymore. but your fiancé and he’s proud of that title. of making you so happy and obligating to do that every single day for the rest of his life. he wants you everyday, every night and everywhere in between. he’s found his safe haven in this world, and it’s you. it always will be.

an: thank you for reading, reposting and likes are greatly appreciated. i’m trying to keep my posting schedule up and should have requests open when i’m finished with all the ones in my drafts. thank you guys for being patient with me. i love you all, kisses. xx

[oompaloompadidu]

Can I ask for PM and ADA men with a reader who struggles with depression? feel free to ignore!

hi! Sure I can try!

PORT MAFIA

Chuuya

He'd try to make you happy, doing everything you ask him to

He'd buy you lots of gifts and put them on your desk without saying anything and buy you flowers everyday

He's so sorry for you and fears it might be his fault (pls tell him it's not, he's such an angel), and everytime something happens he gets really worried for you

He keeps you from taking any decision against yourself (he knows Dazai and he'd give his life for you to not become as desperate as him)

He puts his hat on your head when you get really sad and tells you: "keep it as a reminder that I love you. And it looks better o you, anyway."

Akutagawa

He doesn't know what to do, he's terrible at dealing with emotions

At first he told you that you were "too emotional", "exaggerating" and "weak" but when he realized you actually had depression problems he stopped

He buys you tea/figs when things get bad with your depression because he doesn't know what to do and since he likes those things he hopes they can help (help it's so cute-)

Mori

Like chuuya, he buys you everything, but not just what you ask, even what you just look at for too much time. He wants you to feel better but usually he doesn't worry for people, so he's not very good at it.

he lets you mimic him even if it could offend him a bit, because it makes you laugh and he loves it

You have lots of plushies that he bought you during your worst depression episodes

He always brings you at fancy restaurants and buys you dresses to cheer you up

ARMED DETECTIVE AGENCY

Dazai

Oh well. You two are in the same situation.

At first he always asked you for a double suicide but, after he discovered you struggle with depression as well, I think he would stop. He couldn't actually accept the fact that you could risk to die for his fault while he could survive at the attempt (he wants you to live as long as possible so that he can stay with you)

He keeps trying to find new ways of suicide, but a lot less than before

Still, if you asked him for a double suicide he would accept without a second thought

He makes a lot of jokes and try to make you laugh when you're really sad or tired

Kunikida

He'd have stress attacks every time you get worse

He never had a girlfriend/good friend so he doesn't know how to make you feel better

He tried to ask Yosano how to help you but she just said "don't know man, go shopping with her"

And so he did

Now when you get really bad and don't want to do anything/talk he makes you get out of the house saying that "there is 'shopping time' in his schedule and he wants to go"

You know he doesn't really like going shopping but you appreciate it

Atsushi

he buys you a lot of tea rice

And a lot of plushies

And everything that you like (even if it might means that he has to work twice because he doesn't have the money)

He tries to be always there for you and tells you that you are the most brilliant and fantastic person he knows

Ranpo

Girl you'll be COVERED of candies and chocolate and sweets of every type

He asks Poe to keep you company when he's obligated to go at meetings with the ada because he doesn't want you to be lonely

I hope you're good with orientation because you two will get lost a lot if you let him try to guide you (but it's okay he's a cute babyyy-)

Kenji (he's a minor I hope you are a minor as well pls don't do anything weird to him he's just my adorable baby)

He always offer you to visit his camps to cheer you up

His smile is contagious TRUST ME

my adorable little baby loves you with all his heart and he would literally rip apart everyone who dares to say something bad about so that you don't feel bad anymore ❤️

Junichiro

He tries to get off work earlier so that he can stay with you

He's scared Naomi will do something weird to him and get you worse but actually you two are friends and she likes you a lot

He asks Dazai and Kunikida for help about how to cheer you up but they both said "why do you think I know?" and he's very confused

He gives you kisses even in public sometimes when you're really sad but pda embarrasses him and also he doesn't want Naomi to see it

[branwinged]

the magnus archives is a romcom—no what the hell it's not. it is, however, a gothic horror romance between jon and elias. because you see, the thing about jonelias is that their canonical dynamic is built around an absurd number of gothic genre tropes. jon sims obviously fits the mold of the tortured gothic protagonist quite nicely who's facing both external (the other avatars targeting him) and internal horrors (his progress as the Archivist weighing on his conscience). but he's also trapped in the gothic manor which is the magnus institute. there are secrets (the place being a temple to the eye), locked doors, forbidden chambers, and bodies in the attic which serve as evidence of past misdeeds (the panopticon; gertrude and jonah's bodies in the tunnels), the institute/archives is ultimately destroyed by fire - purging the gothic manor i.e. the symbolic destruction of the previous order with fire is a common motif in the genre. and jon's work in the archives is haunted by the figurative ghost of gertrude who remains a curious mystery he must unravel and will serve as a constant reminder to jon of his own inadequacies (just like du maurier's rebecca fr)

elias is then —

1) his personal bluebeard figure who murdered his predecessor, a comparison which only gets stronger with the jonah magnus reveal since he's been cycling through archivists for two hundred years, all having met gruesome ends in service to him and jon being his final and most notable choice. are you seeing the maxim de winter rochester imagery. are you.

2) his gothic double. doubles as a literary trope are your hidden self made manifest, the horror lies in the double (elias) revealing the gothic protagonist's (jon) hidden, true self to them. elias as an avatar of the eye is entirely unrepentant for his nature, he revels in it. which is a mirror to jon's own self-flagellation because despite how much he feels torn about his own metaphorical vampirism, he likes it. he admits as much to gerry as early as s3 when asked about his feelings on his ability to compel truths. and why wouldn't he! after being kept in the dark so long, why wouldn't he like it? and jon and jonah had in common their natural curiosity even before they found the beholding. elias is a mirror and jon looks in it and sees someone who is him, but not quite. someone who is what jon would be if he could simply let go, but jon can't. like most gothic protagonists he will kill his double because it is a reminder of a self-truth he can never escape.

and watcher's call. like what even is that. what do you mean that's a thing. what. literally wuthering heights. "why did you heed the call?" // "because this is the place i know i should be" <- normal dialogue to write for two guys definitely not starring in a gothic romance.

^ same genre of images. so the spider, the mother of puppets, the web which is the symbolic representation of narrative thread in the magnus archives universe WEAVED them together? red string fated, that's what they are? so they're soulmates. that's what you're saying. they're literally soulmates. soulmates as existential horror? just enough of an illusion of narrative agency for jonah/elias to claim, "the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose" but paradoxically joined by fate, which isn't a good thing! because no god-like powers of hope, or love, or indigestion, or whatever, only fear. because even though both help the other achieve narrative self-actualisation (elias making jon the archive and jon making elias the king of a ruined world), their union also irrevocably destroys their lives as they hurt each other in deeply personal ways which signify their greatest fears. elias manipulating jon, whose biggest fear is mr spider, i.e. loss of control and jon repaying by being the very thing that kills jonah, who has spent multiple lifetimes trying to escape the end. and that's romance <3