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loving-barnes · 10 months ago

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LOGAN HOWLETT - BLAST FROM THE PAST

A/N: And something new, that I've been working on for some time. The ending sucks, but I tried. Maybe it won't make sense, I don't know. It was supposed to be spicy, but I didn't know what to put there.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: angst, some fluff

My stories are written for mature audiences - 18+!

Words: 5400+

Important note: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine (which means he's tall as fuck!)

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - BLAST FROM THE PAST

Logan needed some time off. Was it from the students? The missions? He didn’t know. But he longed for some peace. A weekend away would be perfect. A week would mean the world to him. And yet, he’d never asked for that. Deep down, he liked teaching the students. He enjoyed the missions even when he was grumpy about it.

He leaned against a pillar at the entrance, inhaling the cold wet air. The had been pouring for hours. It was a matter of minutes before the first thunder would start. With midnight slowly approaching, the scenario in front of him was very peaceful. It was exactly what he needed, even if it was only for a few moments.

Logan took a cigar out of his pocket, lighting it up. No one would bitch about it now. When he took the first drag, his mind wandered to Jean. He would think about her here and there, always wondering… what if? What if she chose him? What if she never dates Scott? But it wasn’t like that. It sucked she chose Scott. It’s been a long time now. It was time to get over it for good.

Out of nowhere, he scoffed. There was only one person who would stupidly comment on it. Logan perfectly pictured his best friend beating his ass for acting like a fool. Like a love-sick puppy, she’d say. And would laugh, even now.

Logan frowned. Now, his mind was preoccupied with the images of his best friend - Y/N. They met over two years ago. Or was it longer than that? It was at a time when he was cage-fighting for money. He wasn’t a teacher or an X-man. He barely knew who he was. He was blessed with that woman, to be honest. She sneaked into his life and nestled somewhere in his heart.

He chuckled when he remembered how she would mock him. They had a similar sense of humour. She was a powerful mutant, also on the run from everything and everyone - even herself. Life with her by his side was easier. Their paths separated a few times, only to be brought together by some miracle.

But then Rogue came and his life changed. The last time he met her was, again, a total coincidence. Because that’s what the universe had decided to do. Logan was on a mission with Storm, looking for more mutant children to be saved and protected. Turned out, Y/N was on her own mission, to help them. The meeting was short, amusing and before he blinked, she was gone.

He kept wondering what his life would be if they stayed together. What if she was here with him? What if he stayed by her side and never set foot here?

He took another drag, the taste lingering in his mouth a bit more than before. Logan’s eyes scanned the surroundings. The driveway to the school was empty. He didn’t sense any danger. And yet, he frowned. Something seemed off.

There was a scent lingering in the air. It was distant, mutant-like. Taking another sniff, Logan tilted his head. Odd. The scent was familiar. Too familiar. With every breath he took, he was sure he knew that person. That’s when his eyes captured a figure limping through the rain forward. He straightened his back, eyes wide. Could it be…?

“Am I delirious?” he heard the well-known feminine voice. “Is that the grumpiest man who ever lived?”

Logan chuckled. Of course, she would greet him with words like that. “Y/N?” What the hell was she doing there? “Holy shit, is that you? How the fuck?” he asked in disbelief.

“That’s how you greet your good friend?” she asked, chuckling. Y/N came closer, trying to keep her weight off her right foot. “I was expecting confetti and champagne.”

The cigarette was immediately abandoned. Logan walked into the rain. It took him five large steps to approach her. His big arms wrapped around her body in a tight hug. “This has to be enough.”

“A warm hug from you? Worth it,” she laughed as she pressed her drenched clothes against his dry one. She rested her head against his hard chest, smiling. “But seriously, what the fuck are you doing here? Of all places?”

Logan looked at her, eyes travelling from head to toe. She was a mess. “I think I should be asking that question, don’t ya think? Come on, let’s get your ass inside before you catch fucking pneumonia or something.” Before she could reply, Logan dragged her inside the school, away from the cold rain.

“Holy shit,” he heard her gasp when Y/N stepped inside. She kept twisting and turning on her heel, scanning the interior. Her mouth was open while trying to take it all in. “Don’t tell me you fucking live here, Howlett,” and she punched him in the bicep. “Have you won the lottery?”

He held a chuckle and shook his head. “Still got that mouth on you,” he stated.

“And yet, you still love me,” she had gifted him with a bright smile. That quickly turned into a scowl and a gasp.

Logan noticed before she was limping. Now, under the light, he saw her swollen ankle. “What happened there, kid?” he pointed at her foot.

She looked down, eyeing her injury. “Shit,” she mumbled. “On my way here, I slipped on a fucking mud and twisted it. Otherwise, I am fine.”

He could smell the lie on her, but for now, he decided to ignore it. She would sing eventually. Logan knew her damn well. Fuck, he couldn’t believe she was standing before him, here at school. Either this was the universe bringing them together or there were more lies behind those gorgeous eyes.

Her feet moved. She kept turning around, looking at the interior. “Fancy. So, this is where you live now? What is this a school?” She stopped and turned back to him. “Don’t tell me you are a teacher.”

Logan watched as she wrapped her arms around her body. The wet clothes were hugging her figure in the right places. “I know it’s hard to believe but that’s what I am now.”

She chuckled. “From a fighting cage to becoming a teacher. That’s a plot twist I didn’t see coming. What do you teach?”

“Ethics,” he said seriously. When he noticed how she raised a brow, he continued. “Believe it or not, I’m very good at it. I’ve got a way with words. You’d be surprised.”

“Did you lose your mind again while we were separated?” she asked. “There’s no fucking way you, of all people, are teaching ethics. That’s… unethical.”

That’s when he started to laugh. He got her good. “Nah, I’m kidding, kid. I teach combat training or PE and history.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, exhaling loudly. “Fuck, you got me there.” Her whole body shivered. “S-so, how the hell did you end up being a teacher? Last time, we didn’t have that much time to chit-chat. You were saving the same kids as I was.”

Logan’s eyes couldn’t watch how he kept shaking like an abandoned puppy. With long strides, he went to another room and reappeared with a fluffy blanket. He threw at her. “Here.”

“Thanks,” she smiled. She wrapped around her, sighing contentedly.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Why the fuck are you here? And don’t give me some shitty story. Tell me the truth,” he said strictly. He crossed his big arms over his chest, flexing them.

Y/N brushed the wet strands of hair from her face, her lips shivering. “I was sent here,” she said simply. Logan opened his mouth to demand more. “This might sound crazy, although, in our world, nothing is fucking crazy. Someone contacted me - no, that’s not the correct word. Someone connected with my mind. A telepath, a powerful one. He, I remember it was a male voice, helped me come here.”

Logan shook his head in disbelief. “Charles,” he mumbled. “He’s the founder and headmaster of this school. He’s the one who contacted you.”

“Well, shit,” she was surprised. “I was not expecting that. Does he know we know each other?” Y/N sneezed loudly. And then again. “The better question is, why me?”

Logan wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get you some dry clothes.”

“Is it okay that I’m here? It’s the middle of the night,” she had to ask while walking up the stairs, following her friend.

He snorted. “Don’t play timid now, Y/L/N. This shit doesn’t work on me.”

One simple glare and he had to laugh. “Damn, you know me too well. But seriously, everyone is asleep and I feel like an intruder.”

Logan took her to his room and closed the doors silently behind them. “You are a fucking annoying intruder, but I don’t mind, darlin’,” he grinned at her. “Welcome to my room, don’t fucking sit anywhere with those damn wet clothes.” Logan moved to his closet and took out a shirt with long sleeves and some boxers he never wore. Again, he threw the clothes at her like he did with the blanket, making her curse.

“I’ll be swimming in those clothes.”

“Shut up and be grateful.” Logan pointed at the second door in the room. “That’s my bathroom - change, shower, do whatever you need.”

“Careful with your words, mon ami,” she winked at him. “Thank you, Lo’. I appreciate this.”

“Save it, kid.”

Y/N showed him her tongue on the way to the bathroom, grimacing before closing the door behind her.

Alone in Logan’s bathroom, she smiled. Damn, she missed him. He was the only man who treated her like an equal. They shared the same humour, the same views. He was a strong mutant and so was she.

Sighing, Y/N undressed from the wet clothes, hanging them on a heating rack to dry. Her ankle still hurt. She caught her reflection in the mirror. Bruises covered her body. Some of them still hurt like a bitch.

One quick shower later, she felt better, warmer. Although, she smelled like him. It made her smile. She had to use his shampoo because there wasn’t anything else. In the end, it was better than nothing. As predicted, his clothes were too big for her. One of her shoulders was exposed, the boxers were low on her hips.

Logan was still in his bedroom when she walked out. First, their eyes locked. Then, his eyes travelled south, scanning her figure and his clothes hanging on her. Has she ever worn his clothes before? He dryly gulped. “Yeah, you are swimming in my clothes,” he chuckled. “Now, get in the bed.”

“Woah, first buy me dinner you ass,” she laughed. “I’m not that easy.”

One glare and she was laughing even more. “Of course, you are the one with a rotten brain,” he commented. “One night we’ll share. We will figure out the rest tomorrow after you meet the rest of the X-men.”

“I mean, we shared a bed once. It was during a winter, a shitty snowstorm got in our way,” Y/N grinned like a winner. “I was surprised when you cuddled me.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You were cold and asked me to help you,” he reminded her.

“But you decided to do it,” Y/N grinned at him. “If you’d like, you can cuddle me tonight, too. I wouldn’t mind.”

“Damn you, woman,” he growled. “Just get in the damn bed and shut your noisy, annoying mouth.”

“Again, you love me,” she winked at him and climbed into the bed, taking the right side. Luckily, the bed was big enough to accommodate them together. “So comfortable,” she sighed contentedly. “You are treated well here.”

“Benefit of being a teacher here,” he chuckled. “Sleep, Y/N. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Her eyes were heavy. She didn’t have the energy to give him some witty comment. She simply turned her back to him, cuddling to her pillow, drifting into the realm of dreams.

At least for a few hours before she was up again, surrounded by darkness and gentle snoring. She turned her head to see the silhouette of her friend deep asleep. Sighing, she slowly left the bed, legs bringing her to a big window. The rain never stopped. It kept pouring on the grass, the wind swaying the trees. Her whole body ached. She had a couple of rough months behind her. Now, she was safe.

Y/N didn’t slip on the mud. She was on the run for several days in searing pain. Her wrists remembered the cuffs around them, not letting her move. What mattered now was the fact that the dark times were gone and she was in a place where she had someone she knew well.

Logan shifted in the bed, turning on the other side, still asleep. At least he was able to do that now. Maybe his mind was in a better place, healed. He deserved it.

Y/N rested her elbows on a wooden window sill and put her head on her hands. Watching the rain was better than sleeping at this point. It soothed her, washed away the pain, the distress.

In the morning, when she came out of the bathroom, Logan was sitting on his bed, frowning. “Already grumpy?” Y/N asked with a teasing smile.

“You didn’t sleep,” he glared at her.

“I did,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “Not the whole night, but at least a few hours.” There was no point in lying.

He shook his head. “Staring at the rain is better than resting in the bed?” he asked. “I knew damn well you were standing at the window for hours.”

“You are a damn spy,” she said dramatically. “Fine, I was up. So what?”

“You should have rested, kid.”

“If you knew I was up, why didn’t you say anything?” she challenged.

A sigh escaped his lips. “You are a pain in the ass, ya know that?” He huffed. “I figured you needed a moment to collect your thoughts, as you like to say.”

Without a word, he stood up and locked himself in the bathroom. Y/N rolled her eyes. Grumpy Logan in the morning was a blessing. She fixed the clothes on her body, sighing at how loose everything was. Her own clothes didn’t smell good. They needed a good wash.

Her ears registered noise coming out of the hallway. The voices shaded into each other. The students were up and ready to start their day. At first, she thought there’d be only a few kids. By the sounds of it, there had to be way more. How many kids did they save?

Once Logan was out, he was already in his jeans, just putting on his white tank top. It was only a second but Y/N got a perfect glimpse of his hard abs and a path of hair. Her eyes moved up to his face.

“I’m taking you to Charles,” he said. “Since he was the one who brought you here.”

Y/N showed him a thumbs-up. A second later, she stopped. “Wait, I can’t meet him like this,” she pointed at how she was dressed. Logan's clothes were too big on her body. Also, it would look… weird. What would the people around here think?

“Give me a minute,” he said and left the room, leaving Y/N standing there alone.

Logan came to a different room, knocking on it. It took ten seconds for the person to open the door. His eyes met with Rogue’s. “It’s too early to give me any pep-talk you have in mind,” she said, annoyed.

“I need a favour,” he said.

That piqued Rogue’s interest. “Alright, what is it?”

“I need to borrow some female clothes,” he said, not looking at her. He wanted to avoid that teasing look on her face. “Before you start asking shit… I have a friend here and she needs some clothes to wear.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, grinning. “A friend you say? Is it really just a friend, Logan? What happened to her clothes? Are they torn?”

He glared at her. “Will you help me out or nah?”

Rogue bit her lower lip, trying her best not to laugh at him. “What is her sizing?” she asked.

Logan described her body type. He didn’t give her too many details. Just enough so Rogue had a picture of her. “I think I have something here. Can I meet her?” she asked.

“You are nosy, ya know that?” he tilted his head, patience wearing off slowly. “You’ll meet her later, okay? I have to take her to Charles. He was the one who brought her here.”

“Huh?” she was confused. “Hold on,” and hid in her room where she tried to find some clothes that would fit Logan’s mysterious female friend. Once she handed him the clothes, she put a teasing smile on her face. “I wanna meet her.”

“Later, kid,” he waved a hand. He went back to his room.

When he entered, Y/N was sitting on the bed, looking at her nails. He threw the clothes at her. They smacked her face. “Here, put this on.”

She raised a brow. “Whose clothes are these? Please don’t tell me your girlfriend’s, that would be fucking weird.”

“They belong to a student I saved some time ago,” he explained. “She’s a good kid. She also has a big mouth. You two would be great friends,” he chuckled.

Y/N made a face. “Kinda hard to believe, but okay.” Taking her clothes, she went back to the bathroom to change. To her surprise, the clothes fit her nicely. They were simple sweatpants and a white T-shirt. Once she got out, Logan’s bed was perfectly made.

He noticed some bruises on her arms but decided not to comment on it yet.

Logan took Y/N through the vast hallways of the school to the lower levels where Charles had an office. Some students eyed Y/N from head to toe, not knowing what to think of her. There were whispers here and there, pointing their fingers in her direction.

“I feel like I am a zoo animal,” she snarled a little. “I’m surprised they are not taking pictures of me, yet.”

“Give it time,” he teased.

“Fucking great.”

Logan knocked on the office door three times before entering. For the first time, Y/N was able to see the man who connected with her mind. He was old, bald, in a wheelchair and dressed fancy.

“Y/N,” he said her name with a smile. “I’m glad you are here. Please, sit.” Then, he turned his eyes to Logan. “Thank you for bringing her. I’ll speak with her alone.”

The Wolverine didn’t comment on it. He gave him a nod, patter Y/N’s shoulder and left the Professor and his friend alone in the office to talk.

Typical Professor. He’d keep his secrets to himself until things when to shit. Logan hoped he’d give him an explanation. And if not him, he would hear it from Y/N.

Damn that woman. They had known each other for many years before he became a teacher at this school. They were close, sometimes wondering how close they would be if… He shook his head. It was useless to think that way. Yes, she was fucking sexy and beautiful. He would be lying if he said the opposite. It made him question things back in the day. Even now, when he saw her face this morning, there was a question lingering in his mind. What if..?

“Where is she?” Rogue startled him. “I wanna see her.”

“Jeez, kid. You are acting as if you want to catch Santa during Christmas,” he said.

Logan and Rogue walked into the kitchen. He made himself a coffee while Rogue got cereal and milk. She had that teasing smile on her lips, waiting for something juicy from Logan.

“I’m curious. Is she pretty?”

He almost choked on the coffee. “Shit,” he mumbled and coughed.

“Well, she must be if you are acting this way,” Rogue smiled.

“What do you mean, kid? I act normally. The damn coffee went down the wrong pipe,” he glared at her and put the mug on the counter.

“Whatever you say, Logan,” she giggled. “How come you never told me about this friend of yours? Or shall I call her a crush?”

“Have you ever told me about your friends?” he asked back. “And what am I, five?”

She put a full spoon of cereal in her mouth and shrugged. “This is different,” she said after swallowing the food. “I can confidently say I know you well, Logan. But since this morning, there is this different energy coming out of you.”

“How is this different?”

“It’s you we are talking about,” she said. “The grumpy guy who doesn’t let anyone in. And suddenly, there is a woman that is supposedly his friend. Ask anyone, they’d say it’s… unusual.”

His ears registered the sound of wheels and Y/N’s gentle voice approaching. He took a deep breath, preparing for their entrance. It seemed Charles had decided to give her a tour. When they entered the kitchen, Logan noticed how Rogue’s eyes widened when her eyes captured Y/N at the door in her clothes.

And they both smiled at each other. Fuck. Rogue and Y/N would be a deadly combo for him. He would never hear the end of their nagging and teasing.

“You’ve met Logan,” Charles chuckled. “This is Rogue. Logan saved her some time ago.”

“Hi!” Rogue said cheerfully, too cheerfully for Logan’s liking. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“You will meet more people as the day goes by,” Charles said to Y/N. “Some of them are on a mission in Salt Lake City. They should be back in a day or two.”

Logan turned his gaze to Y/N. “So, you are staying?” It sounded rougher than he intended to. He would be glad to have her here, with him. “Wow, wasn’t expecting that,” he added.

She shrugged. “I think it’s time to lay low. My life has been hectic for years. Now, I got the opportunity to have some sort of stability - in a matter of speaking.”

“If you excuse me,” Charles said politely, “I have a class to teach. We will speak together more this afternoon. We’ll arrange a room for you and some clothes since you don’t own anything.”

“Thank you.”

. . .

Y/N sat alone in a room they assigned her. Some would say it was small. To her, it was luxurious and vast. She never had a room like this. As a kid, she would share the sleeping space with other kids. And then, she would travel from place to place, sleeping wherever it was possible - benches, couches or in a van when she was with Logan.

She thought about the time she would spend time with him. How they would share his van. That man had a kind heart. He wouldn’t let her freeze to death when he found her. And since that day, their friendship blossomed.

That man. Shit. Was there a time when she imagined his hard muscles under her hands? Yes, many times. When they were together, she could never cross that line. It was rare to have a good friend in her life who was willing to take her in like a stray. She wouldn’t want to screw that up.

A knock brought her back to reality. Rogue came inside her room with a gentle smile tugging at her lips. “Hi,” she greeted Y/N.

“Hi, uh, Rogue, right?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Is it okay to come?”

“Sure,” Y/N pointed at the spot next to her on the bed. “So, you are the girl who gave me some clothes to wear,” she tugged at her sweatpants. “Thanks. That was very kind.”

Rogue kept the smile. “I know what’s like not to have any clothes. They gave me everything when I got here. I have a bed to sleep on, food to eat and friends.”

Y/N nodded. “That’s good.”

“So, what’s up with you and Logan?” she asked boldly, making Y/N snap her head up and look at the girl.

“We are friends,” Y/N said, unsure what Rogue meant by it. “We’ve known each other for years. We separated a while back and now, the universe has brought us together,” she explained.

“Universe,” Rogue grinned.

The door opened without knocking. Logan walked in as if it was his room. “Sure, come on in, this room is a public space,” Y/N commented with a smirk plastered on her lips. “What do you want?”

Logan glared at Rogue. “What are you doing here, kid?”

“Getting to know your friend,” she smiled at him. It was followed by a wink.

“Don’t you have classes?” he questioned.

Rogue huffed, annoyed by him. “We’ll talk later,” she waved a hand as she was leaving Y/N’s new room. She gave Logan one last teasing look before she left.

“You are such a dad,” Y/N laughed at Logan. “Strict hand, not taking any shit.”

Logan poked her forehead, making her laugh. “Have you hurt your head, kid? You are talking shit.”

“What? You don’t like being called a dad? How about ‘daddy’?” she put a wicked smile on her face, waiting for his reaction. When his eyes widened and his nostrils flared, she started to laugh at him.

Logan shook his head. “I think it’s time for you to start singing, Y/N.” His voice got deeper. The teasing was gone. He demanded answers. “I talked to Charles. He didn’t want to tell me what happened to you, or the exact reason why he found you. In his words, you should be the one to tell me.”

Y/N eyes lowered. She knew it would eventually come. Her eyes trailed over the few bruises that were on her arms. “I was locked in a mutant testing lab,” she whispered.

“What?!” Logan’s voice raised. “How long?”

She rolled her eyes from one side to the other, counting the days. “Over a month,” she said. “I got information that they had some kids locked there and I wanted to get them out. My goal was to take them to an underground network that helped mutants. Unfortunately, they captured me and locked me with them.”

“Y/N,” he sighed.

“Don’t,” she glared at him. “You weren’t there. You don’t know what happened. Don’t be over-protective when you were here, living your life.”

She was right. He wasn’t with her. He didn’t have the right to act this way. “What happened there?” Logan’s voice sounded more neutral. The anger behind it subsided.

Y/N started to play with her fingers, picking up dirt under her nails that wasn’t there. “They experimented on us, abused us,” she shrugged. “I wanted to get us away, but I only made it worse.”

“What happened?” he demanded this time.

“I blew up the whole place!” she raised her voice. Her eyes met his. “Many people died. I wanted to get them out and I… I killed them, Logan.”

Y/N’s mutation was a dangerous one. She was able to blow things up. Because she lacked control over the mutation, no wonder things went quickly south. “I didn’t want to,” her voice broke. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Holy shit,” Logan shook his head. “How many dead?”

“I don’t know. I panicked and ran away,” she admitted. “Everything was on fire.”

There was silence between them. Logan wasn’t commenting on it. Y/N didn’t want to talk more about it. It was too fresh. The wounds didn’t heal. She killed many people, including mutants.

“So that ankle,” he pointed at her leg. She wasn’t limping that day, but it was still a little swollen. “You didn’t slip on a mud.”

She shook her head. “No. All injuries were from…” her voice faded into nothing. Y/N’s head lowered, not daring to look at Logan. She tried to hold back the tears and not to cry. She felt ashamed of lying, not telling the truth to the one man she kind of trusted. “Can’t believe the Professor wants me here after everything.”

“This is the problem,” Logan started to talk. “You never told me when something went to shit. Whether it was you being attacked as it happened at the Canadian borders when we travelling together. Or when your powers got out of control. Now, it’s still the same. Here I thought you could trust me.”

“I’m sorry,” she jumped in. “I didn’t want to seem like a damsel in distress or a weak mutant that doesn’t have things under control. Plus, it’s not something I wanted to brag about when there were casualties.”

“And again, you didn’t have your mutation under control,” he spat. Logan was upset and he didn’t understand why. “Why do I have a feeling that you cannot trust me? After all those years? You think I’d judge you? Come on, princess.”

“I trust you.”

“Do you?”

She opened her mouth to argue. Logan stopped her by raising a hand. “Don’t even try.”

The anger mixed with dread. Logan cared for her more than he ever realised. However, he was upset that she didn’t trust him enough to tell him what happened. She had to lie just to present herself as strong and brave.

He went out to smoke and calm down. Why couldn’t she admit that she fucked up and was injured? Stubborn woman.

. . .

Logan and Y/N didn’t talk for the rest of the day. She stayed in her room, hidden from the world while he dealt with students. Also, he wanted to know more information from Charles. He gave him a better glimpse into what happened. It seemed some mutants got away before Y/N blew up the whole building.

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me anything about it,” he said.

Charles sighed. “I understand you two share some past. Your paths separated for some time and things changed. You can’t blame her for not trusting you enough.”

Logan frowned at him. “You know awfully a lot, Charles.”

“Sometimes your mind is too loud, opened for telepaths like an invitation to an open house,” he said with a chuckle.

“Then don’t snoop around,” said Logan.

Charles took a deep breath, ready to speak, when his face went stoic. He knew something was off. “She wants to leave,” he announced. “Rogue is talking to her at the entrance door.”

“Fuck,” Logan gritted his teeth. His legs took him out of the office and straight to the front door where Rogue was talking to Y/N. The woman had new clothes on her and a backpack. She was serious about leaving.

“Stay,” Rogue said. “You need to talk it out.”

Y/N shook her head. “I have to leave. Too many ghosts in the closet,” she shrugged.

“You’re not goin anywhere,” Logan lurched forward. “You just came here and I ain’t letting you go that easily.”

“Logan,” she sighed.

“No,” he shook his head. He grabbed her by the forearm and dragged her back inside the mansion. “I get that you re upset about what happened, but we can talk about it and deal with it together.”

“Logan, it’s not that easy, I killed all those people…”

He huffed. “Y/N, stop it, okay,” he shook his head. “We can help you here. We can make you understand your mutation better. You will train with us, how to use it, how to control it. What do you say?” It seemed as if he was pleading now.

She opened her mouth, ready to ramble some more. Logan reached for her, grabbing her by the neck and pressing her body close to his. His lips found hers in a kiss that took her breath away.

Rogue’s mouth almost dropped to the floor, but she was glad that Logan made the step. She knew that man liked Y/N. Because she didn’t want to ruin the moment, she slowly stepped away from them, giving them space.

When Y/N slowly pushed away from Logan, she was speechless. Like a fish on a dry land, her mouth was opening and closing without making a sound.

“Stay,” Logan said softly. “Come on, princess. Let me help you, give you a safe place.”

She bit her lower lip. “Will it come with more kisses from you?”

He snorted. “As much as you want, darling.”

#Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett x female reader #Logan Howlett #Logan Howlett fanfiction #Wolverine x reader #Wolverine x female reader #Wolverine fanfiction #Marvel fanfiction #x-men fanfiction

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oceantornadoo · 3 months ago

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ch10 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: reader is a kidnappee

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“How do you think we would have met in the real world?” You ask. His fingers tangle with yours, raising them high to your bedroom ceiling. “Hm. Regular customer at y’r store.” He answers. The bright Sunday morning light filters through the bedroom curtains, making the room glow like a dream. “You think I’d still own a bookstore in another life?” John nods against you, his head on the pillow next to yours. “Y’r made fer it. Tha’ I know.” You smile at the thought.

“What would you do?” He’s silent for a moment, thinking. “Military. I’m built f’r violence, can’t imagine anythin’ else.” You frown, hoping for a more positive answer. “It would be dangerous. And you’d be gone a lot. I don’t think you’d qualify as a regular.” You protest against the fake scenario. He squeezes your hand, comforting the sudden rush of emotion that made your last word wobble. You hoped for one future where a little boy named John could chase his interests, not living in a warzone. “I’d get a desk job when we got married.” You turn to your side, meeting his eyes with a grin.

“You’d marry me?” He turns on his side as well, hand catching the side of your face. He strokes the softness of your cheeks, calluses pulling against moisturized skin. “I’d marry ya in any universe. Flirt with ya at the checkout counter. Find your favorite books an’ get th’ author to sign them. Bring back stories from foreign countries. You don’t know what I’d do to find ya and keep ya.” Your breath catches. It’s the closest thing that he could give to a love confession. It’s tailored to you as a person, not just empty platitudes. You peck him on the lips, pulling back before he can distract you. “I’d find you too, John.”

When you wake, you’re cotton headed with a bitter mouth. You try to lick your lips but are stopped by the gag in your mouth, so jarring it took you a second to realize it. As the fog clears, you take stock of the situation.

A gloomy room, water dripping in the corner with a singular light hanging on the ceiling. It’s a bit chilly, air rushing through the thin button-up you’re wearing. (John’s. But you can’t think about him right now.) You’re still in the jeans you wore to work, thankfully. Hands handcuffed behind you to a cool metal chair, your legs secured to the bottom of it. And of course, the fabric gag in your mouth, reflected in the mirror in front of you that has to be watched by your captors. You glare, hard.

You were kidnapped after lunch, and thankfully you’re only a little hungry. The only sense of time you have is your bladder, pleading you to get to a bathroom. It must have been a few hours at least, since you’d only drank a little at work. You guess it’s around 6 pm, before night peaks around the earth in full. All you do is stare at your reflection and wonder how you let two enemies into your bookstore.

The metal door at the corner of the room creaks with effort. When you turn your head, Phil is standing there, sealed plastic water bottle in hand. “How’re ya feelin’?” You stay silent behind the gag, content to glare at your former assistant. He sighs and closes the door. You hear someone lock it from the outside. Phil approaches cautiously, opening the water bottle as he walks.

“‘m takin’ your gag off and you’re gonna be a good girl and not scream.” The phrase good girl is like poison to your ears. Something only your husband is allowed to call you. You stay bitterly silent as he tugs down your gag, dirty fingers brushing your face. You force yourself not to react, eyes trained on him. Phil brings the water bottle to your lips, tilting your head back to drink. While you would refuse out of spite, you don’t know the next time you’ll get water. Drops of water slip down your jaw, cooling your skin even more.

“Now, I’ve got some questions for you, sugar. Answer ‘em and you’ll be outta here in no time.” He leans back against the wall, hands in his pockets. You have a feeling you won’t be getting a bathroom or dinner anytime soon.

Stupid Kate and her no-phone rule. She’s notoriously strict with devices when meeting with clients, especially potential ones. John was in that meeting for many grueling hours with a potential gun vendor, watching the clock hands tick by. He needs to call his wife, needs to hear you reassure him that it was just a fight, that you’ll talk it out and be okay eventually.

Finally, Kate lets them free a bit after six. John immediately grabs his phone from Laswell’s secretary and frowns at the slur of notifications on his screen, mainly from Gaz. He forgoes reading them, calling him while mentally calculating how fast he could see you.

“Sir, we need you at the bookstore immediately.” It sets off alarms in his head. Why would he be needed there? “What aren’t ya tellin’ me, Garrick?” John finds his driver waiting outside the office and signals to him to get going. “Shepherd got ‘er. The two assistants were his. We’re tryin’ to find her but she’s gone, sir.” John barks at his driver to step on it, then puts the phone back to his ear. You’re gone. You can’t be gone. You’re supposed to be waiting for him at the Castle, brows furrowed why he explains why he really couldn’t take you on that trip. Why you seem to be the person he forgot to search for in a past life, with your unruly snickers and magnificent brain. You’re not supposed to be gone.

John bursts into the half-made store, panting from anger. His people are untying Terrance in the corner, a medic pressing an ice pack against a nasty bump on his head. Kyle’s on the phone, barking orders to someone on the other side.

Their movements stop when their boss bursts in. Tie half-done, hair wrecked from hands going through it. Flustered. A hundred eyes track him and none are the ones he wants. There’s only one thing on his mind.

“Where is my wife?”

Simon shoots out of bed, breathing hard. Johnny’s used to his nightmares, tugging his shoulder to bring him back down. Unlike other nights, his husband stays sitting up. It’s enough to raise an alarm.

“Bad dream, lamb?” Moonlight traces Simon’s scars reverently, turning them into rivers of silver. Sometimes it hurts to look at him for too long, but Johnny wills himself to focus. “Somethin’s wrong.” Simon murmurs. He reaches for his phone and dials someone. Johnny can guess who. The call goes to voicemail at the first ring. “Ye ken she’s on do not disturb.” Simon calls again and while usually it would go through on DND, it cuts short again. While he tries for another call, Johnny turns to grab his own phone, calling the man he loathes.

“Garrick.” He sounds angry and out of breath, unusual at this late hour. “Ghost is wonderin’ where his sister is. The lass’s phone isnae workin’.” Instead of biting out a sharp comment, Garrick takes a deep breath like he’s steeling himself. Johnny sits up on instinct, putting the phone on speaker and preparing himself for the worst. “She’s been kidnapped.” Johnny goes to speak but Simon covers his mouth, shaking his head. “I was about to call y’. Shepherd’s men took ‘er at the shop. Two were workin’ on the inside and slipped through. We don’t know-“ Simon snatches the phone and barks out a reply. “We’ll see you in 2 hours. Fuckin’ find ‘er Garrick.” He hangs up and the men get ready robotically, grabbing their respective guns before calling the pilot. Before they head to the helipad, Johnny grabs his husband’s neck and brings his forehead to his own. “We’ll find ‘er.” Simon nods and that’s that. There’s no other option.

“An’ here’s the security code f’r the guns.” Simon gestures to the passcode locks on the hundreds of secure cases. “And I need to know this because…?” Your brother sighs, then peeks down to check something on his iPad. “In case Price forgets. In case ya need to launch a coup. In case you wan’ a new weapon. Take your pick, kid.” You punch his arm, then crowd the tablet so you can memorize the code. Only Simon, Johnny, Price, and now you know this code. Not even Price’s head of security. You leave for wedding preparations tomorrow, and instead of watching Sex and the City reruns with Si, he’s forcing you to train like a military recruit. Running you through security codes, showing you how the weapons transfer will work between him and Price. He’s always let you shadow his work but this is different, a new responsibility on your shoulders.

You know it took a lot for him to allow this. Your brother distrusts everyone, like he believes he’ll be betrayed every morning. “Thanks for showing me this, Si.” You murmur, trusting eyes meeting his. The basement of your mansion, where the weapons are stored, is cool and sterile. An opposing force to the figure of your brother, warm and painted in nostalgia that you’re already trying to not think about. “Can’t have ya in the dark, love. Now tell me the code again.”

“I don’t know the codes.”

Phil glares at you. His personality is so at odds with the assistant you trained in your store. Gone is the happy-go-lucky Southerner that you knew would charm all types of clientele. In his place is a stone-faced man tasked with extracting every single one of your secrets. What a waste of time. You might not be your brother, but at the end of the day, you’re a Riley through and through.

“You’re askin’ me to believe that the Ghost didn’t give his sister the codes to the weapons he was sellin’ her for?” You shrug, unaffected. “Like you said, he sold me. I was more concerned with that than learning how his weapons worked.” He frowns, hands flexing in his pockets. “That don’t make ya feel bad? Gettin’ sold like a cow?” You snort at the comparison. “At least cows get slaughtered. I’m in purgatory in this never-ending marriage with John.” Phil comes closer. He switches from standing to squatting on his haunches, his eyes a little under yours. You wonder why he wants the codes. Does this mean John’s security holdings are compromised? The cases were designed by Johnny himself, impervious to any sort of hacking software.

“From what I saw in the store, you seemed pretty in love.” You shrug again. The best lies, you’ve found, are woven with a thread of truth. “He’s hot. We fuck. Don’t tell me you can’t separate love from lust?” Phil doesn’t say anything. He wants you to keep talking in the uncomfortable silence, but you won’t give in. The shade of his eyes are all wrong, too light. You prefer blue eyes dark and possessive, gripping you in their stare.

After a few seconds, he breaks the staring contest, looking down at the floor. “If you don’t have the codes, you’re not of much worth to us.” You shrug again, willing your hands not to shake. “Then I guess you’ll have to get rid of me.” When he looks back at you, there’s an unnerving grin on his face. “Nah. You know them, I’m sure. We’ll just have to use other methods.”

“Favorite takeaway cuisine?”

“Indian. You?”

“Thai. Love me some yellow chicken curry.”

John doesn’t know what that is, so he stays silent. You drop your spoon in your cereal, eyebrows strung together in disbelief. “You’ve never had Thai?” It’s almost a shriek. He’d laugh if he wasn’t sure you’d fling milk at him. “Gaz’s allergic to tofu an’ real superstitious about it. Thinks it’s in the curry even if we get meat.” You bark out a laugh. He’s so glad he didn’t have any morning meetings today. It’s a rare weekday breakfast together and he’s enjoying the get-to-know-you questions you’re flinging his way.

“Childhood pets?”

“One dog. Got forced to turn him out to the street when I was eleven.” Instead of answering the question, you frown with a pout. “That’s so cruel.” He nods, flicking his eyes away so he doesn’t have to see the pity in them. “My father was a cruel man. Didn’t like things tha’ made a mess, includin’ pets. Or his son.” When he looks back, though, it’s not pity in your eyes. It’s understanding. There’s a new bond of solidarity between you, formed by men that weren’t supposed to become fathers. “I think you’d be a good father, John.” He shrugs, grabbing your free hand on the table and stroking your knuckles.

“Know I’ve got to be one, but not the most excited about it.” It’s a confession he’s never told anyone. He knows he can be a good father, a good leader, but there’s never been that need inside of him to create new life. The way he lives is not good for children. He can imagine it in another life, packing school lunches and doing pickup, but it feels so limited in this one. Restrained to the house, no playdates or public swimming lessons. Anything is too dangerous for someone with his name.

“Can I tell you a secret?” You murmur in a serious tone not meant for the morning. He squeezes your hand before meeting your eyes, wet with unspoken emotion. “I know how to be a good mom, but I don’t really want to be one.” His stomach drops. He’s never heard someone say it so resolutely as him. “Why’s tha’?” He croaks out. “This life…it would be like an animal breeding in captivity. They never get to experience the joys of the wilderness. They’re restricted to the four walls around them. I’d become a captive too, never my own person again. Mother first. I respect others who do it but I just…dread it.” This time, it’s John nodding in understanding. He pulls his chair closer to yours until your legs tangle under the table like a secret.

“What if we didn’t have kids?” You whisper. He shakes his head regretfully. “I need an heir, sweetheart. If I don’t have one, there’d be mutiny.” You bite your lip in concentration and he’s entranced by it. The push of your teeth against the plumpness of your skin is magic. “What if we adopted?” Again, he shakes his head. He’s thought about that avenue too many times to count. “Can’t willingly bring a kid that’s not even mine into this shit.” This time it’s you shaking your head, moving closer until you’re practically in his lap.

“Unofficial adoption. Someone that’s past 18.” It takes a second to register. You both say the same name at the same time: “Gaz.” It’s not unheard of, passing to a non-biological heir. Mainly when the couple has problems with fertility. Usually, the new heir would change their last name for the sake of tradition. You push out of your chair and plop down on his thigh, hands running through his beard in that way that grounds him. “We could tell them I’m infertile.” He hums thoughtfully. “Maybe invent a miscarriage to really get that pity.” You move to his thick head of hair, massaging his scalp. “Wait two years to make it look like we really tried. Announce it on our wedding anniversary for full effect.” You kiss the tip of his nose. A goddess in his lap and you want him. He still can’t believe it.

“Would he want it?” John rarely asks questions, but this one is important. You nod immediately, self-assured. “He loves you like a father, John. I think he’d protest, but eventually say yes.” John captures your lips in a kiss, rough and fast. He pulls away, leaving a string of saliva between you. “I’d get a vasectomy. I’m not fuckin’ you with a condom the rest of my life.” Your eyes flare and he suddenly worries he said the wrong thing. “The rest of your life?” He nods, squeezing your hip. “If you’ll have me.” You grin and it’s the start of his demise.

i know this is a little shorter than usual but the kidnapping will be multiple chapters so pls stick with me :) im hoping to finish by the end of feburary but tbd. also taglist is full so she's closed sorry about that!

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afloweroutofstone · 4 months ago

Note

Hiii, I am curious to learn more about your personal politics. Are u socialist of democractic socialist? Do you reject Marxism–Leninism? Are you more of a reformist of revolutionary?

Over time I've moved away from talking about my own ideology on here for a variety of reasons (I have lots of disparate influences and there's no label I 100% identify with, everyone loves to start heated fights on here, it seemed a bit self-absorbed, etc.) But considering that it has been years since I've really made any attempt at laying out what my viewpoint is, it might make sense to do so again.

There are three terms you could fairly use to describe my views:

I am a democratic socialist because I think that the people should be able to collectively decide upon their shared fate, and that democracy is superior to both political dictatorship and capitalist oligarchy. (See Eugene Debs, Michael Harrington, etc.)

I am a liberal socialist because I believe that socialism is the logical extension of historical liberalism as an attempt at liberating people from existing hierarchies and authoritarianism. (See Carlo Rosselli, John Rawls, etc.)

I am a social democrat because I believe that the potential for successfully achieving transformative change through aggressive action within the presently existing system is drastically larger than the potential for a successful proletarian revolution, mass insurrection, etc., etc. (See Eduard Bernstein, Jean Jaurès, etc.)

This all puts me very firmly in the reformist camp of the reform vs. revolution debate. I would not consider myself a Marxist, although there are ways in which Marx's thought has influenced my own both directly and through the thought of others in the broader Marxist tradition.

In further detail:

I am a market socialist who believes in a large welfare state that provides for everyone's basic needs from cradle to grave; workplace democracy through widespread cooperatives and strong labor unions; progressive reforms to redistribute wealth more evenly; full employment; the reorganization of the global economy to eliminate present injustices; the diminishment of corporate power; strategic public ownership in certain key sectors; and the provision of opportunities for everyone to live their lives in the way that they desire.

I am a democrat who believes in an equal opportunity for everyone to influence public policy, including the periodic chance for the people to freely select their own leadership from amongst a variety of different choices, without unfair restrictions, corrupt financing by the wealthy, domination of the process by a political elite, or external interventions.

I am an anti-militarist opposed to armed conflict in any and every scenario where it can be avoided; an anti-imperialist opposed to the abuses of all powerful governments which take advantage of others and impose their will upon them; and an internationalist who believes in a democratic system of multilateral diplomacy and equitable exchange in which all countries can resolve their differences peacefully and cooperate for the common good.

I am a progressive who believes in an egalitarian culture that values every single person equally, abolishes rigid social hierarchies like patriarchy and white supremacy, welcomes immigrants, embraces secularism to separate church from state, and provides for the full rights and liberties of all peoples.

I am a civil libertarian who believes in the universal right of all people to fundamental liberties (speech, belief, protest, press, association, etc.) and protections from authoritarianism (privacy, government transparency, a fair legal system, limits to detention, humane treatment of prisoners, rule of law, anti-discrimination policies, demilitarized state security forces, etc.)

I am an environmentalist who believes in a just transition that ends our dependence on fossil fuels and establishes a green economy that minimizes (and even reverses) the damage of climate change; ensures clean air, water, and land; preserves natural ecosystems; and provides for everyone's needs in a sustainable fashion.

#the Brettist creed

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makeyuomine · 8 days ago

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written in the stars // part 1

Summary: (Y/N) was hoping for a quiet evening under the stars at the Griffith Observatory — a chance to clear her mind. But something shifts when she spots Harry, a graduate student in Planetary Science, during the planetarium show. What begins as a few curious glances soon turns into lingering conversations, shared stargazing, and a growing connection neither of them saw coming.

Tropes: Slow burn, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, academic/nerdy bf x grounded gf

Author’s Note: Hi readers ⭐️ This is a work of fanfiction inspired by the public persona of Harry Styles. All characters, events, and scenarios are entirely fictional and are not intended to reflect real-life individuals, situations, or relationships. This story was written purely for entertainment and creative expression — nothing here is based on real events.

Also please note this is my first time writing a fanfic in literal years, so I’m a little rusty.

Thank you so so much for taking the time to read. I hope you all enjoy.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

(Y/N) had grown up with the Griffith Observatory practically in her backyard, but it felt brand new tonight. She had decided to attend a showing at the planetarium that evening.

Maybe it was the mist drifting in from the hills, softening the sharp lights of Los Angeles like a veil. Or perhaps it was how everything had started feeling a little off lately—like her life had tilted half a degree on its axis, except no one had noticed. She wasn’t looking for an answer tonight, just a reason to keep going.

The planetarium dome smelled the same as it always had—clean, slightly metallic, like old projectors and cool air. She chose a seat in the center row, her favorite spot since childhood. When the stars would swirl and expand across the ceiling, it felt like she was floating.

"I should’ve gotten high first," she muttered under her breath.

(Y/N) adjusts herself in her seat, getting comfortable. A few seconds later, someone slid into one of the seats beside her.

Not right beside her, but close enough to notice.

She glanced over, expecting some bored couple or a tourist with a camera.

The man beside her was quietly silencing his phone, settling in for the show. He sat alone, entirely absorbed in his own world—and looked absolutely, maddeningly gorgeous.

He wore black jeans, scuffed Vans, and a button-up shirt, with a navy blue cardigan draped casually over his shoulders.

His hair fell in loose, tousled waves near his collar—like he'd been running his fingers through it all day without realizing. A soft leather notebook rested on one knee, a pen poised in his hand, like he was treating the show more like a study session than a casual outing.

He noticed her looking.

"You don’t strike me as someone who’s here for an Instagram post," he whispered, a half-smile playing at his lips.

(Y/N) arched a brow. "And you don’t strike me as someone who’s here for fun."

"That's right," he laughed, offering a hand. "I'm Harry."

She shook it. "(Y/N)."

There was a pause, the kind that crackled with the promise of more.

��I'm a grad student at the university here,” he said, eyes flicking up to the domed ceiling. "I study Planetary Science."

Her brows lifted. "That's amazing. So you do this for a living?"

"Well," he said, shrugging modestly, "I try to make sense of celestial chaos. Planets colliding. Moons forming. Rings collapsing into dust. Romance, really."

(Y/N) smiled and raised her eyebrow. "That’s your idea of romance?"

"Well, what's yours?"

Her eyes met his, lingering a second too long.

"I... I don't know, actually."

She felt slightly flustered. (Y/N) didn't expect to be talking about romance, let alone being asked what she considered to be romantic.

"I'm sure you do. We’re alive in the blink of cosmic time, and somehow, here we are."

The lights dimmed.

The dome came alive with light—stars unfurling in spirals and flares above them. (Y/N) tilted her head back, chest rising and falling slowly. She found herself unable to focus on the show—despite having seen it more times than she could count. Her thoughts kept drifting to the handsome grad student beside her, and the way he managed to make astronomy feel like poetry.

She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe the universe had timing. That maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t all chaos.

Next to her, Harry was silent. Still.

He watched the stars with quiet intensity, occasionally scribbling notes into his notebook. How he managed to write anything in the dim light, she had no idea—but she couldn’t look away. There was something about him that felt effortlessly poetic, like he belonged to the stars he was studying.

Sensing her watching him, Harry turned his head.

And when she turned—drawn by the same invisible thread that had pulled her to come here alone, he looked away, like he’d been caught in something intimate.

The narrator’s voice filled the dome again. Soft, reverent.

"Venus spins backwards, did you know that? Her sun rises in the west and sets in the east. No one knows exactly why, but she defied gravity and expectations."

She.

(Y/N) swallowed. She wasn’t sure if it was the narrator's words or the way Harry tensed, just a little, as if he felt them too.

When the show ended, the crowd shuffled out in a hush, like worshippers leaving a chapel. Outside, the night was velvet and full of echoes. The Observatory loomed behind them, glowing like a crown on the hillside.

She lingered at the edge of the terrace, arms crossed, watching the smog-shrouded city glitter below.

Harry joined her quietly.

"You didn’t ask why I came alone," she said.

"I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you would."

(Y/N) turned to look at him and chuckled, "That’s surprisingly respectful for someone who called planetary destruction romantic."

He grinned, then grew more serious. "Why did you come?"

She hesitated. Then: "Everything’s changing lately. People, plans. It’s like…I don’t recognize anything I used to count on."

He nodded slowly. A few seconds passed before he spoke up, "Sometimes I look at Jupiter’s Great Red Spot and think about how it’s a storm that’s been raging for centuries. Longer than any of us will live. But even that’s starting to fade."

"Hm, is this your version of a pep talk?"

"I’m just saying," he smiled, his voice softer now, "even the most chaotic of things can’t last forever."

She didn’t mean to stare at him again. She didn’t mean to want more.

But she did.

He was brilliant and magnetic and too much for the moment she was in. But he’d made her feel something—for the first time in months.

They stood together in silence, the kind that felt less awkward and more like a pause the night was holding its breath through.

(Y/N) stared out at the city lights, scattered like fallen stars across the hills. Beside her, Harry did the same. When he wasn’t looking, she stole quiet glances—drawn to how composed he seemed, how effortlessly he carried himself, like he belonged in some other era.

After a long breath, Harry pulled out his notebook and jotted something down, his brow furrowed in thought.

“I should get going,” he said finally.

He tore a small slip of paper from the notebook and held it out to her—edges rough, his number written in a looping, deliberate hand.

“In case you ever want to talk stars again,” he said. Then, after a beat, his mouth curved with mischief. “Or chaos.”

(Y/N) took the paper, fingertips brushing his.

“It was really nice meeting you, (Y/N),” he added, extending his hand with that same steady warmth.

She shook it, and for a second, neither of them let go.

“Call me,” he said, his voice low as he took her hand, brushing a soft kiss against her palm.

He let her hand slip from his, the touch lingering just a little too long. She stood there, utterly speechless, only able to offer a small nod and a shy smile.

With that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

She watched him go, lost in the sea of people, but something told her—he wouldn’t be gone for long.

And somehow, she knew she would stay with him, too.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

A/N: Thank you to everyone that took the time to read the first post of Written in the Stars! Please let me know your thoughts. Also make sure to drop any recommendations for other one shots, blurbs, etc.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

#harry edward styles #harry x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles slow burn #slow burn

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millerskitty · 16 days ago

Text

Running If You Call My Name

❥ dbf!joel / f!reader x joel miller

❥ (18+) nsfw

❥ reader insert

❥ medium burn, no outbreak au. some timelines are changed to fit the story.

dividers by @/saradika !

warnings: denial of feelings, rejection, brief/comical mention of drugs, angst, insecurity

click here for chapter 1

Chapter 2

In a perfect world you could simply pursue Joel Miller. But you did not live in a perfect world, so instead you pined over him from afar, thinking of scenarios where you had kissed him, closed the space between your lips and shown him how you felt. You tried your hardest not to make it obvious that you were holding onto something, a feeling, a shift from that evening in his garage.

You had spent more time getting ready than you meant to. You dusted on some light makeup with a clear gloss on your lips. Your hair looked good, you felt good and you spritzed on some of your favorite perfume.

You were running too late to make coffee and Pop had already gone to work. That man was impossibly responsible. Even after a night of drinking, he was always up and ready to go to work. Pop worked in the oil field; he oversaw operations across Texas and was often out of town every couple of weeks.

You decided you would ask Joel to stop for coffee on the way to the shop. There was a knock at the door and you grabbed your purse and keys before heading out. Joel stood there wearing jeans and a T-shirt with his contracting company’s logo on it. His beard had grown out some, but wasn’t overgrown and shaggy. You liked the way he took care of himself while also not trying too hard. He was handsome in a simple way, his masculinity and sense of self respect were the most attractive things to you.

“Ready to get movin’?” He smiled at you, boyish and wide.

“Yes, sir.”

“Sir? Hmm. Don’t know if I like that.” He said, hopping in the driver’s seat of your car.

“Okay, ‘Yes, Mr. Miller,’” you teased. His face dropped.

“Joel, you call me Joel, dork.” He said, as the ignition turned over.

You shrunk at his correction, feeling bad. You wondered if you had made him feel old or something. You shrugged it off, flipping on the radio.

“Can we stop at 7Brew for a coffee first?”

“I don’t know if she’ll make it that far.” He tapped on the steering wheel sarcastically.

“Pleaseee,” you whined.

“Yes, yes of course I’ll get you your crack cocaine.”

“It's coffee!” You smacked his arm playfully.

“I could use a cup anyways.”

“You’re gonna get the jitters, but yes, you should definitely try it.” You couldn’t ignore his arms while he gripped the steering wheel, muscles sculpted from years of doing manual labor.

“Whatcha lookin at?” He snapped you out of your trance. He held your gaze while you waited for the stoplight to turn green. Something fluttered in your stomach, causing you to press your thighs together, which also caught his attention.

You blushed, it felt impossible to be in such close proximity with him. He certainly didn’t want to lean over the console and kiss you as badly as you wanted him to. You were making a fool of yourself and it hadn’t even been five minutes. You turned your body to face the passenger window.

It was silent until you reached the coffee shop. You got in line at the drive-thru.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Nothing.” You lied.

“Come on, you were just excited about coffee and now you seem quiet.”

“Joel…” You whispered.

“Yeah, Doll?” He looked at you seriously.

“You have an eyelash underneath your eye.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “Get outta here.”

“Can I get it?” You asked innocently. “Just so it doesn’t make its way into your eye and blind you permanently and cause us to die because you can’t see anymore?”

“Jesus Christ. Yeah, go ahead.”

You got up in your seat and leaned over the console and you watched his eyes travel from your eyes, down your neck and land on your cleavage as you pressed your soft fingertips to his cheek. He swallowed thickly, and you pulled away, showing him the single eyelash between your thumb and index finger.

“Make a wish and blow.” You said, holding it out to him.

He blew it away and then he pulled up to the window to order. You got something sweet with caramel drizzle and Joel got a cup of hot coffee, black with one sugar to cut some of the bitterness.

“What did you wish for?” You asked, licking a bit of the whipped cream from your straw.

“Can’t tell ya, cause’ I want it to come true.” He smirked before getting back onto the road.

He only made you more curious but you decided to let it go. There was something about showing interest in him that made you feel silly.

When you arrived at the shop, Joel led you into the room and took a seat beside you, your knees resting against each other’s. Nope, not intentional. These seats are tiny, in no world would he choose to make prolonged physical contact with you. You mentally checked yourself, willing your cheeks not to blush.

At some point during the hour wait for your car to be fixed it started to pour rain outside. Neither of you had known that there was a storm in the forecast.

“Stay here, I’ll pull the car around and pick you up.” Joel said, bracing himself for the incoming downpour.

“What? No, we’ll go together.”

“No, kid, I don’t want you to get all drenched if only one of us needs to.”

“I’ll wait here if you stop calling me that.”

“Done, sorry.” He said, ducking out and jogging over to the car. You watched the lights flicker on as he reversed and pulled up to get you.

You ducked and shielded the top of your head using the papers you’d just received from the clerk.

“Fuckin’ rain in the summer?” Joel shouted as you slammed the car door behind you and buckled up.

He proceeded to head in the direction of your home which was about thirty minutes away. You gripped onto the console, your whole body tense with fear. You were terribly afraid of driving in the rain. Joel noticed.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re going slow, everyone has their hazards on. We’ll be fine.” He said, looking down at you sympathetically.

“Mmhmm.” You mumbled, trying to be less obvious about your state of panic.

“Do you want the radio on?”

“Mm-mm,” you shook your head.

“Use your words, Darlin’.” He said calmly.

“No, I’m fine.” You’d blush at his pet name if you weren’t so afraid.

You drove in silence for a few minutes. You were halfway home when you’d started to relax your muscles at the worst possible time. There was a sound of rubber grinding and then you were swerving to avoid flying off the road, but it was useless. Joel tried to keep the wheel straight, but it was too late.

The car swerved uncontrollably and you went flying into a ditch, hitting the fence of someone’s farm property. When the car stopped, Joel ripped off his seatbelt and turned to you, grabbing ahold of you and checking you for damage as you cried silently.

“Comere’ baby, s’okay.” He said softly, unbuckling you and pulling you against his chest.

You whimpered, trying to hold it in, but your fear had just unfolded in front of your eyes. Joel’s hand rubbed up and down your back as you cried for a minute.

“We’re safe. You’re safe. We hydroplaned, we didn’t hit anyone else. Are you hurting?” He asked.

You shook your head no. “Okay, so let’s get out of here and get you safe at home, okay?” Joel reached over you and buckled you back up before putting the car in reverse and making his way back onto the road.

The rest of the drive was hazy, you were coming down from panicking and the adrenaline fading made you drowsy. You were starting to feel embarrassed about crying in front of Joel, but you put it out of your mind. You were rightfully afraid; it could have been worse.

“That could have been worse.” Joel said as he entered your neighborhood.

“Yeah, I’m glad we’re okay. You’re okay, right? No neck or back pain?” You asked, sitting up.

“Not a scratch on me, but your car… might have a few scrapes here and there.”

“What a bitch,” you chuckled.

“Just perfect,” he laughed after a moment.

“Ugh, dad’s gonna trip when he gets home on Monday.”

“Well you’re fine, he’ll be glad you’re safe, that’s the most important thing anyway.” Joel said as he pulled into your driveway and parked the car.

You didn’t know what possessed you to do it, but you unbuckled your seatbelt and leaned over the console and kissed him. He was rigid for a moment, then his lips softened and he kissed you back hard. His hand came up to cup your jaw and his tongue pressed forward, asking permission to explore your mouth. Butterflies swarmed just below your navel, causing you to moan into the kiss. It was more than you’d imagined it would be. It was an all-consuming, needy kiss.

You broke away for a moment, pressing your forehead against his.

The tension was thick, you heard your own heartbeat pounding even with rain pelting the windows of your car. The quick rise and fall of Joel’s chest matched yours. You didn’t want to make another move, afraid that you would do the wrong thing. Joel slumped back into his seat and dropped his head, beating you to the punch.

You reached out to touch his arm and he flinched. “I can’t do this.” He said, running a hand through his dark hair.

“I’m sorry, I thought, fuck, I made a mistake thinking you wanted this.” You stammered, filled with embarrassment.

”Never said I didn’t want it.”

“Then why can’t we?” You asked after a moment of registering the fact that he wanted this, wanted you.

“What kind of man would I be if I took up with m’ best friend’s little girl?”

”There you go again, I’m not a child, Joel.” You sighed, “I’m halfway to thirty and more mature than plenty of women my age.”

”You’re not gettin’ it.”

”No, I get it. You’d deny what this is between us to make my dad more comfortable. It’s not like you changed my diapers, Joel.” You started to gather your things to leave.

Joel looked embarrassed, “We can pretend like nothing ever happened.”

“Maybe you can.” You said, sliding out of the car and slamming the door. You punched your code into the keypad on the garage, not wanting to face Joel to ask for your car keys.

The rain was beating down on the top of your head and down your back as you failed the code twice. You took a deep breath, steadying your anxious fingers before putting the code in one last time. It unlocked and the garage started to open when you heard Joel’s door open and close.

You took your keys from him without looking at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but you turned on your heel and left him standing in front of the garage in the pouring rain. He called out your name, but you didn’t care. Your cheeks burned with shame. You heard him groan as you pressed your back against the door that led to the garage.

What the fuck just happened?

chapter 3

#joel miller #pedro pascal #tlou #the last of us #tlou2 #joel miller x original character #joel miller x female reader #joel x female reader #joel x y/n #joel x you #joel miller x you #tlou fandom #tlou fanfiction #dbf!joel #slow burn #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #angst #angst with a happy ending

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rei-ismyname · 2 months ago

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X-Men hating X-Force

After their effectiveness tracking Cable and destroying Predator X in Messiah Complex, Cyclops commissioned X-Force as a proactive black ops squad. They handled threats like The Purifiers, The Legacy Virus, Bastion, Marauders, The Right, etc. Anyone with genocide on their mind.

Word got out and many X-Men were horrified to the point of leaving - but why?

Nightcrawler and Psylocke (ironically) figured out something was being kept from them and that Cyclops knew about it. Laura doing a spot of lethal torture tipped them off and Betsy confirmed it telepathically. Kurt, especially, was not happy. He died shortly after, which exacerbated everyone's emotions.

Ugh. Greg Land.

After Second Coming and the defeat of many of the more dangerous genocidal agents, folks had time to think. Despite fighting ten different wars at once with fuck all outside assistance (and definitely none from the state,) certain folks made clear their objections to killing in general. Storm asked Scott what Jean would think and we never get an answer on that one. Jean was dead for this 'darkest hour' period after M-Day though she did join Krakoan X-Force to be 'smart, swift and violent.' The canonisation of St Jean was often used as a symbol and rhetorical device, but I have to wonder how she'd behave in the same circumstances.

Xavier, upon sensing no remorse from Scott, looked at him like a stranger. I guess secret drastic action is only okay when he does it - like The Illuminati, or the secret team that didn't come back from Krakoa, or his entire career. It's not always a bad thing, but it often is. The existence of the Xavier Protocols makes his stance a little hypocritical IMO, and that was plans for killing allies not proven ruthless enemies.

It's easy for him to say 'I never wanted this for you' while admitting he's facing every nightmare scenario at once - a multi-front war of genocide. With stakes like that, how do you not kill people? Victory came with a high cost and was a close thing, without X-Force they definitely would have lost. All mutants dead, but with their conscience intact. Somehow I doubt the kids would find comfort in that.

Storm and Logan are processing Kurt's death and the revelation of X-Force hangs in the air. Logan is full of self loathing, and frankly, Storm is full of shit. Their enemies are genocidal monsters who deliberately target children. The Purifiers have lynched mutants, blown up a school bus, and so much more. Their mission hadn't changed at all - in fact they were escalating and joining Bastion plus every other hate militia for a final attack. The state is unwilling or unable to stop them - waiting around for them to attack again, especially with kids on the island, is suicidal.

Heroes don't kill, except when they do. Most heroes aren't constantly at war without a safety net either. Would it be ethical to be the last mutant alive fighting every threat alone, thinking 'at least I didn't kill anyone' as Nimrod tears your heart out? As The Purifiers crucify Academy X, or the Sapien League releases the Legacy virus mark 3? I don't think so. None of them want war, but war wants them.

Hank, of course, leaves. Now that most of the extinction threats are gone he can hang out in Avengers Tower or chill at home without being worried about a robot from the future killing him or his remaining putative students.

I don't say this very often but Namor is right. Fuck Hank's conscience. He's no stranger to opting out of mutant affairs, and in a different story that'd be a viable choice. The X-Men exist in a world of heroes where an endless parade of very dangerous entities specifically want to kill them all. They act as heroes often, but are they actually allowed to be? I'd say no. Especially post M-Day, every threat to mutants is a genocidal one - a war.

Could X-Force have been better? Of course. Would it be nice to have the luxury of traditional superheroics or pursuing a normal life? Definitely. Would the world be better off without X-Force? Depends on whether you value mutant lives. In the sixties, X-Force would be considered a Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. As a long running franchise the X-Men's enemies experienced power and motivation creep to the point that they're at war no matter what they do. Ethics are nice to hold onto, but so is breathing. So are the lives of children in your care. If they waited they'd be dead, so these mutants may not like X-Force, but they should probably say a prayer to it for removing the threats that would destroy the school (again) and everyone in it

Scott's assessment is pretty accurate here. Unlike The Avengers, The X-Men aren't a government sponsored team - the government frequently tries to wipe them out. Unlike the Fantasic Four, the X-Men are mostly despised by the public. The other super teams are fickle allies at best.

They've always been a team with a school, and a school means children. How many children need to die before a policy of reactiveness becomes naive? How many genocide attempts or successes before you classify it as a war? The Avengers fight Kang or Ultron or whoever and that's great for them. The X-Men would be helping if they weren't attending funerals, raising mutant children because nobody else will, and fighting for their lives against the countless parties who want every single mutant dead. They don't get the choice most of the time, and when they do it's often because there're other mutant teams doing what they won't.

If the narrative wants to convince me that lethal proactivity is unethical, including unwavering enemies that won't stop until all mutants are gone was a mistake. Putting Norman Osborn in charge of national security, who included mutant existence as a threat to that was a mistake. But they did, and we all have to play the hand we're dealt.

Many of the mutants who objected to X-Force were powerful or well-trained enough to protect themselves non-lethally. What about those who aren't? The X-Men came to the Morlocks' rescue, but it's called the Mutant Massacre for a reason. In a story where endless forces want every mutant dead - which becomes more true every year - fighting a limited and bloodless reactive war is a luxury.

#x men #x comics #cyclops #x force #wolverine #charles xavier #storm #marvel #comics

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eclipsedrgn · 8 months ago

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𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝑨 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕

jason's girlfriend isn't the most normal girl, but jason doesn't know that.

jason todd x fem!reader

Jason Todd trudged up the stairs to his apartment, exhaustion weighing down every step. His body ached from the most recent mission—a particularly grueling one with Gotham’s more insane criminals. All he wanted right now was to collapse into bed, wrap his arms around you, and forget about the world for a few hours. For three years, you'd been his solace, the steady normalcy in his chaotic life. While the rest of the world knew him as the Red Hood—a vigilante who skirted the line between hero and anti-hero—you only knew him as Jason, the guy who loved shitty action movies and long conversations over coffee.

Hell, Jason loved that you had nothing to do with his other life. You were just a regular junior middle school teacher, living your life with your students and lesson plans. He loved your innocence to the madness that surrounded Gotham, the way you’d roll your eyes at news reports about the Joker or some other whack job as if it were just another Tuesday.

But tonight… something was wrong.

The moment he stepped into the hallway leading to his apartment, his stomach twisted. The door was cracked open. Jason’s pulse spiked as he instinctively reached for the gun tucked in the back of his jeans, cursing under his breath.

No. No, no, no.

He rushed forward, shoving the door open and stepping into the chaos that greeted him. His once neat apartment was trashed—furniture overturned, picture frames shattered on the floor, and the unmistakable signs of a struggle smeared across the room. His breath came in sharp, shallow gasps as his eyes darted from the destroyed living room to the kitchen, then to the hallway that led to the bedroom.

“Babe?!” Jason’s voice cracked with panic. “(Y/N)!”

No response. The apartment was eerily quiet, and with every passing second, dread wrapped its icy fingers around his heart, squeezing tighter and tighter. Jason sprinted through the rooms, kicking open doors, ripping open closets—anything to find you. But there was nothing.

You were gone.

“Fuck!” Jason shouted, his voice raw as he slammed his fist into the nearest wall, cracking the drywall. His hands trembled as he fumbled for his phone, immediately dialing the Batcave. His mind was racing, screaming at him with every worst-case scenario imaginable. You were a civilian. You had no part in this life. Who the fuck would take you?

The line clicked, and Barbara’s voice came through, steady as ever. “Jason?”

“It’s (Y/N),” Jason growled, pacing through the wreckage of the apartment. “She’s gone. Someone—” He sucked in a breath, his throat tightening. “Someone fucking took her.”

The other end of the line went silent for a second, the weight of his words sinking in. “Hold on, I’m on it. I’ll run a trace through the city surveillance cameras.”

Jason’s heart was hammering in his chest, sweat beading on his forehead as he waited for Barbara to work her magic. Every second felt like an eternity. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. You were his goddamn light, the one thing keeping him tethered to any sense of normalcy. If something happened to you…

“Got something,” Barbara’s voice broke through the haze of panic. “I traced some suspicious movement to an abandoned warehouse on the east side. Jason… it’s the Joker.”

Jason’s blood turned to ice. The Joker. The one son of a bitch who could turn his rage into something uncontrollable. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he grabbed his Red Hood helmet from the nearby table, his grip tight enough to make his knuckles go white.

"Jason, I'll call in for back up-"

“I’m heading there now,” Jason muttered, not waiting for a response before hanging up the phone. He didn’t give a shit about protocol or backup right now. All that mattered was getting you back. He strapped on his gear, eyes flashing with barely contained fury. If the Joker had laid one fucking hand on you…

The Red Hood was out for blood tonight.

At the warehouse, the Joker was having the time of his life. His cackles echoed through the dilapidated space, the sound piercing through the otherwise dead silence. He paced around you, your wrists tied to a metal chair, your face expressionless despite the absolute madness surrounding you.

You looked… bored.

“Ahhhh, I must say,” the Joker drawled, waving his arms theatrically, “I didn’t expect this from Red Hood’s girlfriend. I thought you’d be more of a screamer!” He leaned in close, his painted face only inches from yours, eyes glinting with glee. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Afraid? No? Don’t worry, I’m sure ol’ Jaybird will be along soon to pick up the pieces.”

You gave him a deadpan look, not even flinching at the proximity. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be scary, you talk a lot.”

The Joker’s smile faltered for a split second before he threw his head back and laughed, the sound grating on your nerves. “Oh, ho ho! I like this one! You’ve got guts, sweetheart.” He stood up straight, pacing around you with exaggerated steps. “But let’s see how tough you are when your boyfriend walks into my little trap and finds his precious little girlfriend all broken and—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you cut him off, rolling your eyes. “We get it. You want to lure Jason here so you can try to fuck with him. Very original.”

What the Joker didn’t know—and what Jason didn’t know—was that you were far from defenseless. Hell, you weren’t even normal. You were Ben Tennyson’s twin sister, for fuck’s sake. You had seen your fair share of chaos, even if you hadn’t used the Omnitrix much since settling down in Gotham. It had been nice living a normal life, blending in as just another person for a change. You didn’t want to be a hero. Not anymore. But now?

Now, you were starting to reconsider. You watched as the Joker continued to monologue about his grand plans, your eyes flicking down to the Omnitrix still hidden beneath your sleeve. You could break free of these bindings any second, but you wanted to see how things played out first. After all, you didn’t know how Jason would react to seeing you transform.

And, well… it might be fun to surprise him.

The warehouse door crashed open, and there he was—the Red Hood, guns blazing, eyes burning with fury beneath his helmet. The Joker’s laughter reached a fever pitch as Jason stormed inside, his focus immediately snapping to you.

But Jason stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you, tied to the chair but seemingly unharmed. His helmet tilted ever so slightly, confusion evident even through the mask.

“Jaybird!” the Joker taunted, spreading his arms wide. “Look at you! All fired up! Oh, this is going to be so much fun—”

“Shut the fuck up, clown,” Jason growled, his voice venomous. His gun was trained directly on the Joker’s head, but the Joker’s words didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting to you.

“Are you okay?” Jason asked, his voice strained as he took a cautious step toward you.

You smirked. “I’m fine. But… you might want to stand back.”

Jason frowned beneath the helmet. “What?”

Before he could react, you slammed your palm onto the Omnitrix, the familiar green glow filling the dimly lit warehouse. Jason’s eyes widened in shock as your form shifted, your body morphing into one of your alien transformations. This time, you chose something flashy—a pink-hued version of the same form Ben used, almost as if you were showing off.

Feedback.

Jason’s gun lowered, his body frozen in disbelief. “What the…?”

You stood tall, your alien form towering over both Jason and the Joker. “Surprise, babe,” you said with a cheeky grin, your voice slightly distorted by the transformation.

The Joker’s laughter died in his throat as he stared up at you, momentarily stunned by the sudden shift in power dynamics. “What the fuck—”

You didn’t give him time to finish. With a quick flick of your wrist, you sent the Joker flying with electricity into a pile of crates, knocking him unconscious in one swift motion. The entire thing was over in seconds.

When the dust settled, you turned to Jason, who still hadn’t moved. His helmeted gaze remained locked on you, processing the situation.

“Well,” you said, reverting to your human form, brushing your hair back as if nothing had happened. “That was fun.”

Jason blinked. “You… you’re…”

“Yeah,” you shrugged, walking over to untie the ropes that had been holding you. “Guess the secret’s out. I’ve got an Omnitrix, like Ben.”

Jason stared at you, his mouth slightly open, the shock still painted across his face. “You’re a fucking alien?”

You laughed, finally untying yourself. “Sometimes. Not all the time.” You looked up at him, giving him a soft smile. “You okay?”

Jason let out a breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “Baby... you could’ve told me, you know.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. “But where’s the fun in that?”

Jason huffed, finally letting his guard down as he pulled you into his chest, burying his face in your hair. “You scared the shit out of me, baby... fuck” he mumbled.

“I know,” you whispered, holding him tighter. “I’m sorry.”

Jason hadn’t let go of you since the moment you’d wrapped your arms around him. His body was still tense, his grip on you tight as if he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. The Joker was knocked out cold, but even that didn’t seem to ease the strain in Jason’s posture. It wasn’t until the both of you stepped outside, leaving the warehouse and the wreckage of the night behind, that he finally spoke.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Jason whispered, his voice thick with guilt as he buried his face in your hair again. His hands rested on your back, fingers trembling slightly. “I never should’ve let this happen. You got kidnapped because of me… because of Red Hood.”

You could hear the raw pain in his voice, and your heart ached for him. He was carrying the weight of this on his shoulders, blaming himself for what had happened, even though you knew it wasn’t his fault. The Joker would have found any way to get to him, and it just so happened that tonight, you were his target. But Jason couldn’t see it that way. He saw this as a failure—a failure to protect you, the person he cared about most.

You tilted your head up slightly, placing a soft kiss on his jawline. “Jason, it’s not your fault,” you murmured against his skin. “You didn’t know this was going to happen.”

“But—” he started, his breath hitching.

You cut him off by peppering kisses along his jaw, then his cheek, then up toward his temple, each kiss soft and reassuring. “It’s not your fault, baby” you repeated between kisses, your tone firmer this time. “I don’t blame you. Not for a second.”

Jason let out a shaky breath, his grip loosening slightly as his arms slipped around your waist, pulling you even closer. “You should blame me,” he muttered, his forehead resting against yours. “Red Hood put a target on your back. I put a target on your back.”

You cupped his face gently, forcing him to look at you, your gaze locking onto his. “I love you, Jason Todd. And I love you whether you’re Red Hood, or just Jason. You didn’t put a target on me. The Joker did. And trust me, if he tries something like this again…” You gave him a mischievous smile. “I’ll make sure to kick his ass before you even get there.”

Jason snorted despite himself, shaking his head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Damn right I am,” you teased, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “Now let’s get out of here before someone wakes up.” You glanced back at the warehouse where the Joker lay unconscious, your lip curling in disgust. “I really don’t want to hear him laughing again.”

Jason chuckled softly, pulling you toward the motorcycle parked nearby. “Yeah, I think we’ve heard enough for one night.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The ride to the Batcave was quiet, the wind whipping past you as you clung to Jason, your body pressed against his as the city blurred around you. You could feel the tension slowly easing from his frame the closer you got to the safety of the cave, though you knew it wasn’t gone entirely. Jason was good at hiding his emotions, but tonight had rattled him more than he was willing to admit.

When the Batcave finally came into view, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. As much as you’d brushed off the danger earlier, it was nice to know that you were heading somewhere safe—somewhere with people who had your back.

The moment you stepped off the bike, you were practically tackled by Barbara. She wrapped her arms around you, squeezing you tightly as if she couldn’t believe you were standing in front of her.

“Oh my God, (Y/N),” she breathed, pulling back just enough to look you over. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

You gave her a reassuring smile, shaking your head. “I’m fine, Babs. Really. Just a few scratches.”

Barbara didn’t look entirely convinced, but she nodded anyway, her grip on your arms still firm. “You scared the hell out of us.”

Jason stepped up beside you, his hand resting on your back as he gave Barbara a small nod. “She’s tough. Joker didn’t stand a chance.”

Barbara’s eyes flicked between the two of you, her expression softening slightly. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Before you could say anything else, Alfred appeared, ever the calm and collected presence amidst the chaos. His sharp gaze took in your disheveled appearance, the cuts and bruises scattered across your skin, and he immediately ushered you toward the medical bay with that no-nonsense look in his eyes.

“Miss (Y/N), if you would kindly sit down, I’ll make sure those wounds are properly cleaned and treated,” Alfred said, his tone gentle but firm.

You followed without protest, exhaustion creeping in now that the adrenaline from the night had worn off. You settled onto the medical table, letting Alfred work his magic as he carefully cleaned the cuts and scrapes littering your arms. Jason stood nearby, his arms crossed over his chest, watching quietly as Alfred tended to you.

Once Alfred had finished, you glanced over at Jason, who was still looking at you with a mixture of concern and something else—something unreadable. You knew what he was thinking. You could practically feel the questions swirling in his mind, the confusion about what he’d seen tonight.

“You probably have a lot of questions,” you said softly, meeting his gaze.

Jason’s eyes flicked to yours, his brow furrowing slightly. “Yeah. You could say that.”

You took a deep breath, glancing down at the Omnitrix still attached to your wrist. “So… you remember Ben?”

Jason nodded slowly, his expression guarded.

“Well… I guess I should’ve told you this sooner, but I’m actually Ben’s twin sister,” you said, your voice steady despite the weight of your words. “And I’ve got an Omnitrix too. It’s just like his, but I don’t use it as much anymore. I… I wanted a normal life. So I kept it hidden.”

Jason’s eyes widened slightly, but he stayed silent, waiting for you to continue.

“The Omnitrix is this device that allows us to transform into different alien species,” you explained. “Ben’s been using his for years to fight off intergalactic threats, and I used to help him. But after a while, I got tired of all the fighting. I wanted something different. So I came to Gotham, started teaching… and I guess I just never thought I’d have to use it again.”

Jason’s jaw clenched as he processed your words. “You didn’t think to tell me this… in the three years we’ve been together?”

You winced slightly, knowing you deserved that. “I know. I should’ve told you. But… I liked that you saw me as just me, you know? I didn’t want the Omnitrix to be a part of our relationship. I wanted us to be… normal.”

Jason’s gaze softened slightly, though the frustration still lingered. “We’re not normal, (Y/N). Not in this city. Not in my life.”

“I know that now,” you said quietly, your eyes meeting his. “And I’m sorry. I should’ve been honest with you.”

Jason sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You could’ve been hurt tonight. Or worse. I should’ve known about this so I could protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, Jason,” you said gently. “But I get it. I know you want to. And I’m sorry I kept this from you.”

He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes searching yours before he finally spoke again. “So… what does this mean? You’re going to keep using it?”

You shrugged, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t know. Maybe. Depends on the situation. I mean, you have to admit, it was kind of fun surprising you tonight.”

Jason huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well… next time, give me a little heads-up, okay?”

You grinned, leaning forward to kiss him softly. “Deal.”

Jason kissed you back, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close. For now, the questions could wait. Right now, all that mattered was that you were safe, and you were together.

And no matter what the future held, you knew you’d face it side by side.

#batman #batfam x reader #crossover #ben10

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fawnsprings · 7 months ago

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౨ৎ.ᐟ reckless part two.

ও ven’s notes ; its finally here:’) reckless part two yay!! it’s insane to me because when i made the first part, i had just hit 500, but now im almost at 800??? wtf!!! i love u guys all so much!! if you haven’t read part one, i highly suggest you read it before reading this part <3

you can read part one here!

ও genre ; angstttttt

ও warnings ; swearing, crying, matt’s a bit mean at first, sorry if this lowkey doesn’t make sensese, FINALLY PROOF READ, very random ending btw 🌝 (HELP I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO END IT)

you slam the front door open, hearing both nick and chris run after you. you also hear matt’s pathetic pleas for you to come back. he’s an idiot, you thought. you see blurry blobs that made up nick and chris in your vision as you get into your car. it’s like the scenario was written to happen, just then, small drops of rain started to drip onto the windshield. you begin to pull out of the triplets’ driveway to make your way back to your house, completely forgetting that fey was waiting for you back at her apartment.

you can hear your phone buzzing in your back pocket, getting spam from the triplets, matt spamming you the most though. you stop at a red light, sniffing your tears loudly. you finally grabbed your phone and look at the notifications that you could barely read from your blurry vision. you hear honks from behind you, snapping you back to reality as you start to drive again. you used the inside of your sleeve to wipe away your messy mascara stains and the tears that were pouring out non-stop.

after the car ride that was unbearable, you stepped out of the car, your jeans getting wet from the puddles of rain that was left behind from the small storm that passed by. you groan in frustration, storming your way to the front door. upon opening it, the familiar cozy scent grounds you from your emotions. you make your way up to your room, leaving behind small wet patches along the floor. you changed into some more comfortable clothes since your wet jeans and soaked sweater weren’t making you any more comfortable. you sit down on the edge of your bed, looking down at your feet dangling. you let out a shaky sigh, knowing what was needed to be done.

you lay down on the floor, grabbing a black box from under your bed. the messy letters MATT were on it with red paint. you open it slowly, seeing all of the teddy bears and letters matt had given you, making you just start crying again. you didn’t know why he cheated. you started to think of all the possible reasons. but they all didn’t make sense. you picked up a card and opened. it was the letter he wrote when he told you that you were the only girl he’d ever want in his life. you let out another shaky sigh, starting to slowly crumble the paper into a ball. you begin to do this to all of them. every. single. one. you grab the teddy bears and put them in a trash bag, ready to be donated for those who needed them. you got another bag, throwing away all of the bouquets of flowers.

then finally, all of his hoodies and shirts. you weren’t that cruel to just throw them away or donate them. you knew that matt would probably want them back. you debated it for a second if you should have nick get an uber and come get them and take it to matt. but you realized it would be more mature if you just go yourself. you grab an old backpack you found useless and shoved all of the hoodies and shirts in it. you put the bag on your desk chair, reconsidering her decision of going to his house again, probably seeing audrey still there. but of course, you grabbed your phone and put on your shoes before leaving the door with the heavy backpack.

you decided to kill two birds with one stone and take the bag of stuffed animals as well so you could drop them off at your local goodwill. you took a second before you started the car. small tears still rolled down your cheeks that you wiped away gently with the palm of your hands. again, you pulled out of your driveway and made your way to the triplets’ place. as you drove, you notice a call from fey. hesitantly, you press accept. you met fey’s worried expression looking through the camera. “hello? so what happened?” she asked softly. “he was kissing audrey” you mumble, hearing fey gasp. it sounded dramatic and sarcastic, but you knew that was how she would react. “what? i knew it. i never trusted her or him. im sorry love” she reassured you, her tone soft and gentle. “yeah, s’whatever.” you shrug. “where are you going now?” fey asked curiously.

“-‘m going to drop off his clothes, then im going to goodwill to donate some stuffed animals” you reply, making a right turn that entered the triplets neighborhood. “okay, after goodwill come back to my place. we can finally try baking that one recipe that the one guy on tinder gave me” she laughed. you thought it was funny, but you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh. even a little bit. “yeah okay, i’ll see you soon” you mumble, ending the call. you started to get second thoughts about this. you grab the backpack from the passenger seat and made your way to the front door. hoping matt wouldn’t answer it. but thankfully, it was chris. “hey kid” he mumbled softly, pulling you in for a hug. “hey, c.” you reply, sniffling slightly. “can i come in?” you ask while looking up at him. he nods almost instantly, moving a bit so you could come into the house. you took off your shoes and walked upstairs into their living room and kitchen area.

“matt’s still.. he’s still in there if you..” chris trailed off. you nod slightly at chris’ reminder. you let out a small groan as you inched closer to matt’s door. you rested your hand on his doorknob, but you didn’t open it just yet. after a small breath, you open the door slowly. you immediately see matt sitting down on his bed, head in his hands with his elbows on his knees. you drop the backpack next to his desk, since you thought that he didn’t hear you walk in. after dropping it, matt’s head shot up and instantly looked at you. “bab—“ was what he was gonna say before you cut him off. “don’t call me baby” you snap quietly. “can we just— talk about this. please” he suggests. his tone was if he was demanding. “what is there to talk about?” you shrug. “you’re the one who cheated on me. i mean out of all the possibilities, what did i do wrong for you to cheat on me?” you ask while crossing your arms tight.

“-i i dont know. i know it was, very fucking stupid of me.” he said pathetically. “that’s still not a reason matt” you say, your eyebrows furrowing together. “okay, uhm. i guess i was just getting bored of.. you? bored isn’t the right word, but i was..” he started to ramble. “seriously matt? you were getting fucking bored of me? so instead of breaking up with me you just cheated on me?” you ask, your words laced with shock. “-y.. yes.” he said. you look at him for a few seconds before small tears started to pool in your eyes. “we were just always doing the same thing, over and over again. i just thought that i needed something new” he shrugged. you couldn’t fucking believe him. “matt are you kidding me? what did i tell you about communicating? you could’ve told me that me that you wanted to do something new. doesn’t matter if it has to do with sex or anything.” you say, raising your voice after every sentence. “but you don’t get it.” he snapped.

“oh, i don’t get it? yeah matt, i don’t. i don’t get how you cheated on me because you wanted to do something new. more like someone new” you mumble. “dude, it’s not my fault that all of your suggestions are the same thing. i ask you, ‘oh what do you wanna do’ and it’s always the same thing over and over again. you were getting boring to hang out with. that’s why i always ditched you to hang out at audrey’s house” he said while standing up from his spot. you look up at him for a few seconds. “so now what? you’re just gonna date audrey till you get tired of her too?” you ask quietly. “-‘m not dating her.” he argues. “oh that’s surprising” you gasp sarcastically. “please, you know i loved you, and i still do. i was just.. i don’t know.” he started to cry himself. “matt, you said that you’d never ever hurt me. but here you are, confessing to me that you were getting bored of me. it hurts more than anything” you whisper. “-‘m sorry.” he mumbled. “you know i can’t forgive you” you mumble back, narrowing your eyes slightly.

“are you leaving?” he asked, as if the answer wasn’t obvious. “obviously matt.” you sneer before leaving his room. matt stood there in the darkness that pooled inside of his room. chris stopped you before you were able to leave. “hey, ‘m sorry for what happened. matt’s not like this, i dunno what’s gotten into him” he whispered reassuringly as he hugged you tightly. this is.. surprising, is what you thought. other than that, you hugged chris back. “s’okay. thanks chris” you force a smile. “you’re welcome, if you ever need anything, you know you can text me. okay?” he smiled back at you, patting your shoulder firmly as he pulled away. you nod weakly and see matt emerge from his room. you quickly break eye contact and walk downstairs, putting your shoes on before leaving the house.

you enter your car. it’s quiet. you see you got a notification. chris texted you?

@flouvela @hearts4werka @mxqdii @mattscoquette @hearts4thetr1pl3ts @xoxo4chrisss @sweetstars-posts @conspiracy-ash @submattenthusiast @dominicfikeenthusiast @her-favorite @bambi-slxt @luverboychris @italiansunsetss @mattsluttywaist @strnzzvsp

#⌒ pixxiies · ᘊ #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x fem!reader #matt sturniolo x y/n #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo angst #sturniolo triplets angst #sturniolo triplets fanfic

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dantes-jacket · 1 month ago

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Tokyo Revengers men reacting to you hugging them for the first time

Taiju x fem reader

Author notes: aged up au, your manager is a jerk in this, he says mean things to you and grabs you, Taiju beating him up (what’s new), swearing. this was suppose to have Koko and Inui but I couldn’t stop yapping with Taiju and made this a fic instead of a little scenario. I’ll write them soon tho (well hopefully finals are coming up </3)

You always heard from your coworkers that the owner of the bar you work at is “barely human”. You were always confused on what they meant by that. You always just assumed it was an older guy who has been in the food industry for a long time and didn’t really care to show up at the bar. Today your thoughts turned out to be very wrong.

The bar hasn’t opened yet but you and your coworkers were clocked in and getting everything set up for the night when your manager walked in. Your manager normally walked around cocky and arrogant for being a short chubby guy. He was also a creep. Would always try to hit on you and your coworkers and would get mad at all of you when he’d get rejected.

Your friend and coworker Jean bumps your shoulder with hers, “Look, he’s antsy and pacing. Wonder if he finally got called out for being a nasty perv.”

“Yeah right. As much as I wish that would happen, he’s not getting fired any time soon.” You look at him again and see the man pacing back and forth. He’s fidgeting with his watch and making sure his suit is all nice and smoothed out. “But I really wonder what’s got him like that though, never seen him act so serious before,” you question while cleaning the bar top.

As if your manager senses everyone eyes on him he faces the staff and drops his jaw, “What are all you useless people doing!?! The owner is coming today so make it look like you all aren’t incompetent today!” He growls and stomps over to everyone, “Don’t mess this up.”

Another one of your coworkers goes to refute before you all hear a gruff, “Hello”.

You watch your managers body straighten like a scared cat then whip around to face the door. “Mr Shiba! Nice to see you again, we can head back to my office to discuss everything.”

Now this is where you were proven wrong. You turn to look at the man walking in and your jaw nearly drops. Mr Shiba doesn’t look much older than you, he’s maybe only a couple years older than you. But he was definitely built by a God. What God you don’t know, but they took their time creating him.

He has blue and white hair slicked back, he is insanely tall, and insanely strong. You can see all his muscles through the suit he is wearing. This man is absolutely breathtaking. You didn’t realize the intense stare down you were giving him until someone cleared their throat. You make eye contact with Mr Shiba who is staring right at you.

You look away fast to see a much smaller man appear behind Mr Shiba with some folders adjusting his glasses, “That sounds great sir. Let’s go Mr Shiba, we have a lot to discuss.”

You look back at him to see him still looking at you. You shrink a little bit under his gaze not knowing what to do. Mr Shiba tilts his head, “Could you tell me all these workers names, Aiko? If I’m going to be here more I want to know them all.”

Your manager freezes and it makes you laugh. You didn’t realized you laughed out loud until Jean elbowed you. You freeze and look up at Mr Shiba, “What’s so funny?”

You look at your manager who is glaring at you and then you turn back to him. You don’t know what to say but he speaks up again, “I know we haven’t met before so this is nerve wracking but I highly suggest not lying to me.”

You nod, “Well you see sir, he doesn’t really know our names.”

“Why is that?” You look back at your manager who is fuming but Mr Shiba calls your attention again, “Don’t look at him. Just tell me.”

“He sits in his office all day and doesn’t interact with us, if he does it’s just him yelling at us,” you nervously say while looking at him.

Taiju shakes his head and clears his throat, “I see. Can you introduce me to everyone then?”

He walks closer to you and you go down the line introducing your coworkers. “Down there that’s Kai, Aoi, Lu, Haruto, and Jean.” Then you introduce yourself looking back at him. The entire time you were introducing your coworkers he shook their hands and now it’s your turn. His hand engulfs yours, “Thank you. Well you guys need to finish getting ready since the bar opens soon. Aiko, let’s head back to your office. Seems like there’s much to discuss.”

Your manager leads Taiju and his assistant but before they go into the office you lock eyes with him and he gives you a little smirk. You are quick to look away and again and start setting up seating for the night.

You’re setting up one of the last tables when Jean comes over, “Girl! You got some serious balls for doing that.”

You drag your hand through your hair. “I didn’t even realize I did that. It was so embarrassing, now I’m definitely hated even more by Aiko for telling the truth and then Mr Shiba for looking like a snitch,” you groan.

“Not with how much the boss man was looking at you! He couldn’t take his eyes off of you girl.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah right. Focus on the bar. We open in a couple minutes.”

Jean glares at you, “Ugh you’re no fun. If I had a hottie like that staring at me, I would soak up all that attention.”

“He’s definitely not interested me, now drop it.”

You two turn to head behind the bar then hear yelling coming from the back and Taiju marching out of the office. “You incompetent asshole, how can you suggest that!? We would lose so much money. This is the last straw you’re fired!”

You see the assistant running after him, “Wait please sir! I know I made many mistakes but one more chance please!”

Taiju roars out a passionate “No.” He turns around obviously looking for something. Once he sees you he walks over. The bar separates you two but he leans over getting closer to you. “Do you know anything about financial decisions or just finance in general?”

You blink at his switch up. He spoke so calmly to you but so aggressive to his assistant, he must have been really fed up. But thank god in college you studied finance. “Uh yes I do, but it’s been awhile. I graduated a couple years ago and worked here since so I’m probably a bit rusty.”

Taiju smiles, “Perfect! Follow me.” He walks down at the end of the bar waiting for you. “Wait, sir I have to work the bar though. It’s a Friday I can’t leave Jean to work all by herself.”

Taiju goes to respond but Jean speaks up first, “I’m fine! I’m a pro at busy nights.” She leans down to whisper into your “Now go spend some time with your hottie.” She pushes you down the couple stairs to get down from the bar.

Not expecting her to push you, you start falling but caught by a thick and strong arm around your waist. You see Taiju looking down at you, brows furrowed, “You okay?”

You nod and straighten yourself up then follow Taiju to your managers office. You two sit down facing Aiko and Taiju starts explaining everything.

“From now on she will be my assistant. You will always be in contact with her to get to me. You two will work on the finances here and have her report to me when you are finished with the tasks.”

You blink multiple times trying to follow what he said. “Mr Shiba?”

Taiju turns to you and gives you a nod to speak. “What about my bartending job? I really like doing it and don’t really want to stop.”

“Oh you can still do it some nights but I need most of your focus here. I do most of the business stuff myself, but I really don’t have time for finances so that’s why I have an assistant.”

You get excited because you don’t have to give up bartending. You smile at Taiju, “Thank you so much sir!”

Taiju is taken aback by your smile, with how more beautiful it makes you. He clears his throat, “No problem and call me Taiju.”

Your manager gawks at what Taiju just said but you’re no better. Your eyes shot wide open and your jaw almost dropped again. You quickly or as quickly as you could from the shock, shift to a more calm attitude, “Okay, Taiju.”

Taiju lets out a satisfied hum, then starts explaining everything you and your manager need to do. Once everyone has a clear understanding Taiju excused himself and leaves to go back to his office building.

This entire time you’ve felt your managers eyes glaring at you. You thought nothing of it when Taiju was here because he wouldn’t do anything while his boss was here. But once it’s just you two, that’ll be a different story.

You deicide to ignore it and leave for the night since Taiju said you can so you can look over the financial statements. You open the office door but your manager stops you, “I am going to make your life a living hell. You can count on that.”

You don’t even respond not wanting to add fuel to the fire. You grab your jacket and bag from the back and head home to get some work done.

As you get in your apartment you feel your phone buzz. You look down at the notifications and see a couple messages from an unknown number.

Hey it’s Taiju.

This is my personal number, if you need anything just text me.

Have a goodnight. We will be contact soon.

You are quick to send back a message letting him know you got his messages. You place the statements on the table deciding to go through them tomorrow. You plug your phone in and do your night time routine then hop into bed.

•••

It’s been a couple months working as Taiju’s assistant and you wouldn’t change it for the world. He pays really nice, he lets you work on your time table (while still obviously getting things done on time), and he’s just really nice to you.

He’s brought you along on other finance jobs his business ends up facing because he trusts your judgement. With that, he’s also very protective. Since you’re in a male dominated field, the others are quick to look down on you but Taiju stops that right away.

Any time someone tries to say a degrading comment or insult your intelligence he is quick with a threat. Whether that be physical or business related. He is ALWAYS looking out for you.

Too bad he doesn’t know that your manager is making your life a living hell with the bars’ finances. Aiko doesn’t do his work, if he does it’s really bad and not even useful. So you’re doing everything by yourself while juggling other finance business Taiju is having you do and bartending.

You were thinking about telling Taiju one day about how Aiko is acting but ever since you heard him complain about snitches and how they only act out of personal gain, you decided to keep quiet. You know you can handle this so you’re not going to let Taiju down.

Plus Taiju has been so busy lately that he doesn’t exactly have the time to come to the bar and yell at Aiko. Or even try and look for a replacement. So it’s a lose-lose situation but you’re just happy you’re getting closer to Taiju.

Even tonight, Taiju invited you to a dinner with him and his siblings. You’ve met Hakkai and Yuzuha before at Taiju’s building and they are both super sweet. You can tell Taiju is the black sheep with his emotions in his family but that’s not your place so you keep quiet.

Taiju offered to pick you up tonight and take you to the restaurant. You found out from Yuzuha it is a super fancy one so you try and look your best with what you got. Yes, you get paid well from Taiju but you still were only a bartender for a couple years so you don’t exactly have anything super fancy to probably match the Shiba siblings.

You decide to slip on a red form fitting dress with some black heels. You put on your makeup and grab your purse. Which is actually a designer bag Yuzuha got you for your birthday.

You slip on some jewelry then hear a knock at your door. You quickly spray on perfume then go to greet Taiju.

You open your door and see Taiju is a plain black suit adjusting his watch. You greet him by saying a quick “Hey.” Once he hears you, he looks down at you and his eyes widen. He didn’t respond and it worries you.

“Uh did I not dress right? I think I have another dress I can change into if I need to. You know what here, come on in and I’ll change real quick.”

You turn around to go change but a callous hand grabs your wrist. You look back at Taiju who has a neutral expression. “No, it’s fine. Let’s go. Hakkai and Yuzuha are waiting.”

He drops your wrist then walks down the hall. You’re kinda bummed he didn’t compliment you, especially when you really tried to look your best for him. Guess he doesn’t see you that way.

You sigh and lock your door before catching up with Taiju who is waiting for the elevator. The ride down and the walk to his car is silent. He gets in the car and you follow suit. Once you two are buckled he starts the car and drives off.

Now this is just awkward you think to yourself. The drive to the restaurant is 30 minutes from your apartment and it’s only been 10 minutes into the drive. You’re starting to think Taiju invited you because Yuzuha forced him.

You sigh again and look out the window at the city. It’s rare you come into the city so you always admire it when you get the chance.

A couple minutes go by of you staring out the window then you’re caught off guard when Taiju asks you a question. “Do you like the city?”

You lean back into your seat and sneak a glance at Taiju. He’s still looking straight ahead not bothering to look at you. You start to wonder if you did something to him but you push that thought aside thinking about how you want to answer his question.

“Yes, to an extent. I love visiting it for a day or two and doing many things. But I definitely couldn’t live here. It’s super packed, I like my space and smaller areas. What about you, do you like the city?”

He’s thinks about his answer for a bit then responds, “I don’t really know. I guess I don’t have a preference. But I am here a lot for work so I know it like the back of my hand.”

You nod your head but once you realized the conversation was over and that nothing else was going to be said, you rolled your eyes and looked back out the window.

You’re starting to get mad now. He’s been acting so weird tonight. He’s normally so confident and cocky but now it seems he can’t even spend 5 minutes with you.

The rest of the drive was silent and quick. As soon as Taiju parked you got out of the car, maybe slamming the door a little harder than you should have. You look around the parking lot and actually see Yuzuha and Hakkai a little further down from you guys.

Not caring about Taiju you called out to Yuzuha and ran as fast as you could in your heels to hug her. She sees you coming and opens up her arms. You squeeze her tightly and smile. “Yuzuha! It’s been so long.”

She hugs you tightly back, “I know! I’ve been so busy with work that I haven’t even been able to go out. I barely have time to go out and get groceries for the week.”

You release her and step back. “Oh girl I get it. Work has been crazy for me too. I’ve been pulling so many all nighters it’s insane.”

You feel a warmth at your back and hear that deep voice you’ve grown to love, “What do you mean? Has Aiko not been doing his work or has another job been too much for you?”

You realized what you said and quick to try and correct it, “No! I promise, I’m just a perfectionist. I look over everything multiple times and always change something.”

Taiju looks at you obviously not believing you. You think about how you can change the topic, so you turn back to Hakkai and Yuzuha, “The three of you look great! You guys have some really good genes.”

Yuzuha smiles, “Thank you. But you look beautiful too! Watch out Taiju, someone might try and steal her from you.”

Yuzuha gives him a look and Taiju glares at her. It seems like she’s trying to get a message across but you can’t exactly get what it is.

Hakkai stresses at the situation and pulls you towards him and gets between his siblings. “Okay that’s enough. Let’s go in and eat.”

Yuzuha smirks and ends the staring match and walks into the restaurant. Taiju still looks mad so you call out and ask “Are you okay?”

Taiju snaps back into the moment and looks at you, “Yeah I’m fine. Let’s go.” He reaches for your hands and links them together. He leads you inside the restaurant. You blush at the contact and just let him guide you to the table.

The server seats you four at a booth and Taiju pulls you into one side keeping you close. It seems what Yuzuha said to him really struck a nerve. It doesn’t make sense because why would you leave your job? There’s no need to.

You try to brush it off through the night but it’s hard when Taiju is always touching you in some way. Whether that be him holding your hand, laying his hand on your thigh, or having his arm around your shoulder.

Any time he switches how he is touching you, Yuzuha smiles. You think she’s trying to do something but it’s really hard to put your finger on it.

Hakkai then speaks up calling you name, “You said you’re a bartender too right?”

You excitedly answer, “Oh yeah I am!” You lose some enthusiasm while adding on, “But I don’t have too much time for it now. Anytime I get to do it now, I get really excited.”

“Well my birthday party is coming up soon, would you want to bartend for it? We’ve been having a hard time finding someone that can do it. I’ll even pay you.”

You lighten up but Taiju’s hold on your shoulder tightens, “Jesus Hakkai, I don’t want her to bartend your party.” He feels you shrink in on yourself and quick speaks up again, “I want her to be a guest and actually take a break like tonight. After her saying she’s been working long days the last thing I need to do is add more to her plate.”

“But Taiju, she just said she loves doing it whenever she gets the chance.”

Taiju stares down Hakkai, “What did I just say? I said no. That’s final.”

You look down and clench your dress, what is with him today? He’s making you so angry you could cry. You take a deep breath and quietly call Taiju’s name to get his attention.

You can feel his gaze on you and you continue, “I want to do it. I get you want me to take a break but I see bartending as a break. It’s something I’m good at and it brings me a lot of enjoyment. I haven’t gotten to do it in so long because of Aiko.” You look at Taiju and beg, “Please let me. I can even just do it for a little bit. I honestly don’t mind.”

Taiju is shocked but then furrows his brows, “What do you mean Aiko hasn’t let you?”

Shit. You slipped up again. “Him and I have been so busy with the statements that I haven’t gotten the chance. Remember we all agreed I could bartend until the finance part was done? He holds me to that, as he should.”

He stares at you, obviously not believing you but you can’t think of anything else to say. Taiju looks away and mumbles out a, “Fine. But you’re only doing it for 2 hours. Then the rest of the party you’re relaxing.”

You sit straight up with a big smile on your face and grab his hand that’s not on your shoulder and squeeze it with both of your hands, “Thank you Taiju!!” Taiju smiles lightly as you and nods.

The rest of night is spent catching up, exchanging stories and talking about Hakkai’s birthday party. Once you all finished eating and drinking, you all stand up and head to the front. Taiju slips his hand into yours guiding you.

Once you get to the front you let go of his hand and walk to the reception. You pull your wallet of your bag and before you can hand your card over a big hand grabs yours and pulls you back.

“What are you doing?” Taiju questions you.

“Um paying? You and your siblings always treat me so let me treat you three.” You really wanted to do this even though you know your bank account will be upset with you after this.

“No.” Taiju hands his black card to the receptionist. Once he paid, he lead you out to his car. “Taiju! I wanted to pay!”

Taiju rolls his eyes and takes off his suit jacket draping it over your shoulders, “No way in hell am I letting you pay for a dinner I fucking invited you to. Now let’s get you home. Tomorrow is going to be a long day especially since I’m going to be at the bar.”

You slide your arms into his sleeve jacket and it’s absolutely massive on you. You laugh and Taiju looks at you confused because nothing he said is funny.

You smile up at him still laughing, “It’s just, I knew you were bigger than me. But your suit jacket basically engulfs me. It’s almost as long as my dress.”

Taiju lets out a chuckle and starts walking. He looks over his shoulder, “But you’re still beautiful with it on.” He continues to walk expecting you to follow behind him.

You want to stand there shocked but the logical part of your brain tells you to move so you jog to catch up him. You wrap your arms around his arm and lean your head on his arm, “Thank you Taiju. That made my night.”

Taiju this time opens your door for you to get in and then shuts it and heads over to his side. He hops in and starts the car. Once he’s backed out he puts a hand on your thigh and rubs his thumb back and forth.

This time the silence is nice and not awkward. You’re both content with it and just enjoying each other’s company.

He pulls up to your apartment and parks. He helps you get out of the car then walks you back to your place.

You unlock your door and turn to him. You start to take off his suit jacket but he’s quick to stop you, “Keep it. Gives me a reason to come back.”

You nod and watch him back away and walk down the hall again while wishing you a goodnight. You want to leave him with something too. So you call out to him and jog to him.

You stand on your tiptoes, place one hand on his far cheek and pull his face down pressing a kiss to his near cheek. You step down and smile, “Goodnight Taiju. See you tomorrow.” You quickly walk back to your apartment and shut the door and lock it.

Your heart is racing out of your chest. You stand at your door for a bit trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself. After what feels like hours trying to ease your mind, you start your nighttime routine.

You lay and in bed and see a text from Taiju.

We aren’t finished princess. Especially not after your little stunt.

I can’t wait then handsome. ;)

You text back then turn your phone off not knowing how the conversation will go.

Taiju responded quickly.

Be ready for tomorrow then.

After you don’t respond he texts again.

Ignoring me now?

We will settle this tomorrow.

You wake up the next day to a phone call. You don’t bother to check who it is, “Hello?”

“HEY GIRL!!!”

You pull your phone from your ear, you know exactly who it is now. “Hey Jean. You know it’s still early right? And some people like to sleep in.”

“Oh yeah whoops. Anyways, you coming by the bar tonight?”

“Yeah but I’m not working it. I’m working with Aiko and Taiju with the finances. This is supposed to be the predictions for next year so we gotta make sure it’s perfect.”

“Ugh it’s been forever since you’ve worked at the actual bar!”

“I know, blame Aiko.”

“Ugh that guy is a piece of work. By the way how is he working with that stuff? The dude seems stupid.”

“Don’t even get me started Jean. He fucking doesn’t do shit. After Taiju left that night after making me his assistant guess what he said?”

“That he would have to try harder to sleep with you now?”

“Uh no. But this bitch has the audacity to say ‘I’m going to make your life a living hell. Just you count on it.’ Who the hell says that??? This lazy fuck doesn’t even do anything. I do it ALL myself then tries to take credit in front of Taiju. Oh girl it makes me SO mad.”

“Have you talked to Taiju about it?”

“No…”

Jean groans you name, “Why not?”

“Taiju hates snitches. The last thing I need is to add more to his plate. You think I’m busy? Think of my schedule but triple it, that’s his.”

“I don’t think he would be mad at you. Plus snitching and telling the truth is two different things. If he thought you were a snitch he wouldn’t have asked you to be his assistant and deal with a bunch of things.”

“True…”

“By the way, how are you and Taiju?”

“What do you mean?”

“DON’T LIE TO ME GIRL THERES SOMETHING THERE!!”

You sigh and tell her what happened last night and other little moments you two have had these past couple months.

“AH I KNEW IT!! He likes youuuuu.”

You roll your eyes, “Be serious. He probably is just a flirt.”

You are interrupted by your phone ringing again, you pull it from your ear and see it’s Taiju calling you.

“Hey Jean, I’ll call you back. Taiju is calling me, it could be important.”

“Got it! Don’t worry about calling me back I got some errands to run so I’ll see you tonight. Bye girl! Hopefully it’s just him trying to flirt with you!”

You hang up the call and pick up Taiju’s, “Hello?”

You hear him sigh, “Oh great you’re up.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No nothings wrong. It’s just I’m running all over the place today with meetings so I wanted to confirm the stuff with the bar tonight real quick before I go into another meeting.”

“Oh yeah sure. What’s the plan?”

“It’s just us going through the statements and comparing it to last years. I want to see if we are improving or declining. That’s where you come in with some finances throughout this year. If it’s on the rise I want to predict next years and try to aim higher.”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll bring everything, so just worry about showing up.”

“Thank you-“ Taiju goes silent for a second but you can hear some mumbling.

“You still there?”

“Yep.”

“Okay I have to go now. I’ll see you later beautiful.”

“See you later Taiju.”

He hangs up the call and you decide to get up and get ready. You hop in the shower and take your time washing yourself.

Once you’re done you decide to dress nice today so you wear a skirt and a blouse. You put on some makeup then decide to make yourself some lunch.

After you’re done eating you do the dishes. You see the time and realize you should get going to talk to Aiko about the finances so he doesn’t seem like an idiot and ruin everything in front of Taiju. You put some perfume on and slip on a pair of heeled boots then head out.

You walk in the bar and see Jean. “Hey Jean.”

She snaps her head around and sees you and runs over to you. She throws her arms around you, “Girl it’s been so long!”

“Yeah I know. But have you seen Aiko? I have to go over this stuff so it isn’t a shit show in front of Taiju.” You say breaking the hug.

Jean shakes her head, “Haven’t seen him yet girl.”

“Ughhh, I have to teach him this within the next two hours because that’s when Taiju is coming.”

Jean thinks, “Just sit in his office for now.” You nod and wave her off. You walk into his office and sit down. To kill time you look over everything. You highlight the pieces that will specifically help Taiju with what he wanted to cover.

An hour and half goes by and there walks in Aiko. He burps then looks at you, “Oh it’s you. What do you want?”

You glare at him. You try to think of a relatively nice way to say what you want but you get a text message.

Sorry pretty girl, running behind. Won’t be there probably for another hour or two.

That’s okay! Take your time, there’s no rush. I can stay however long you need me to.

I appreciate the thought but I also want to see you as soon as I can so I’m leaving soon.

Don’t force yourself handsome. I’ll be right here waiting for you.

That sounds heavenly.

Ugh I have to go again. See you later.

Bye bye.

You look at Aiko again who is just leaning back in his chair without a care in the world. “You’re so lucky he’s going to be late. Now I have time to teach you this.”

“Why do I need to know that shit? It ain’t my job and I frankly don’t care if you look like a complete idiot in front of Mr Taiju. It’ll knock you down a peg or two in that random confidence you got.”

“Do you forget that this is actually a part of your job? Taiju assigned this to both of us. If you don’t know this then he’ll know your lazy ass hasn’t done anything for 5 months.”

Aiko laughs, “I’ve worked with Taiju longer than you have. He will believe me, I can twist the story to have him see you’re the one that hasn’t done anything.”

You clench your fists, “I think you forget you piece of shit that we have completely different ways of organization. He knows yours and he knows mine. Taiju will see that all of this is my work.”

“You fucking whore! You’re sleeping with him aren’t you!”

“No I’m not-“

“Yes you are! That’s the only way he’d look in your ugly direction. How much are you paying him? Obviously not much since you’re stupid broke.”

“Aiko listen I’m not-“

He stands up and slams his hands on the table, “Listen here you little gold digger, you try to get in everyone’s pants like you did with mine. You’re a shit worker at the bar and only ever slowed down the routine. You only try to make yourself look good in front of people, like how you did when Mr Shiba came here the first time. You make everyone’s life a living fucking hell when you work with them.”

He snatches your papers off his table and rips them. You yell, “No please stop! Taiju needs those.”

“No he doesn’t because look.” Aiko pulls out statements and notes from his bag setting them on the table. “You’re the one not prepared, how will he react? You hyped up this whole big thing but now you know nothing and he’s going to be here soon. There goes your job slut. Know what! I can actually help with this. You’re fired! Get out. You are not allowed in this bar anymore.”

You freeze and that’s when you realize tears are now streaming down your face. You gulp, “What have you done?”

Aiko smirks, “Fired you. Now get out.”

The more you think about it, the more it all feels real. You never actually signed a contract with Taiju granting him the title of boss instead of Aiko. So Aiko can do as he pleases agreed in your contract. You just stand there not knowing what to say.

Little did you know Jean was standing outside the door and heard everything. She heard yelling and wanted to make sure you were okay. She wanted to barge in there and help but that would only make things worse.

The only one that can fix this is Taiju. She needed to find Taiju. Jean sprints from the office and looks around the bar. She looks at the front door and sees Taiju walk in.

She’s only seen him a couple times, not including the first time came here 5 months ago. Jean can tell he looks exhausted and just wanted to get this done. But she sadly has to add more to his plate.

She calls out “Mr Shiba!” Then runs up to him. Taiju looks down at her confused, “Jean is it?”

“Yes sir.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“You don’t even know! I bet you couldn’t even guess. But you need to fix it!”

Taiju looks confused, “I don’t know much about actual bars so I can’t fix something physically wrong with the bar. Isn’t that what Aiko is for?”

Jean rolls her eyes, “Ugh no sir!” She says your name, “Aiko fired her just now!”

Taiju stiffens and his voices lowers, “He what?”

Jean is quick to retell the story of what happened. Making sure to include the past 5 months of making your life hell.

Taiju sees red after hearing about everything. How could you have kept this from him? Why did you worry more about him than yourself?

He tries to calm himself down but it’s not working. He looks at Jean, “I’m going to kill that bastard. Don’t worry I’ll handle all of this.”

Taiju starts to walk to his office but Jean catches his arm, “Sir, she is crying. So worry about comforting her first. She really enjoys working for you and being around you. She doesn’t want it to end.” He just nods and walks to the office.

You continue to stand there crying not knowing what to do. You can’t even move, you’re frozen still. Aiko then walks over and roughly grabs your arm, “What the fuck did I tell you? Are you too fucked out in the brain to do a simple task?”

He drags you to the door and swings it open. You keep your eyes on the ground while he does all of this. Once the door is fully open you see a big pair of dress shoes.

You look up and see Taiju, he looks at you and sees your tear stained face. “Taiju…” you say softly with your voice cracking.

Taiju’s eyes widen and opens his mouth to try and say something but words are escaping him.

Aiko speaks up, “Oh Mr Shiba! Great timing. I just fired her because she hasn’t been doing anything. I was just seeing her out now.” He squeezes your arm tighter and you wince.

After Taiju hears you wince he lowly warns Aiko, “Let go of her right now.”

Aiko looks confused, “But sir-“

Taiju grabs his wrist tightly and squeezes it until there’s a cracking sound, “I fucking told you, to let go of her.”

Aiko let’s go of you and Taiju pushes you to the side so you’re not in his way. “Sir, I have been working hard and she hasn’t done shit! She’s a useless and incompetent gold digger-“

Taiju doesn’t let him finish before he’s grabbing him by the neck and slamming him against the far wall. “Don’t you DARE talk about her in such a way again.”

“How good is her pussy then? If it makes you act like a little bitch?”

Taiju winds up his fist and releases it against Aiko’s face. You hear sickening crunches. You think to yourself Taiju probably just broken every bone in his face.

Taiju winds up again and lets a couple more punches go. You walk over and grab his arm trying your best to hold him back. “Taiju, please stop.”

Taiju turns around to face you seeing you look sad but trying your hardest to stop him. “I know he did a lot of stuff, you obviously know if you reacted like this. But please stop. I appreciate you standing up from me but I think he learned his lesson.”

Taiju releases him and growls, “No he hasn’t. Aiko, you’re fired. Get the hell out of my bar, before I start punching you again and give you what you deserve.”

Aiko stumbles and grabs his stuff then walks out. Taiju walks out with him making sure he leaves. You decide to sit in a chair to calm down.

Taiju walks in a couple minutes later and crouches down in front of you. He rests one of his hands on your cheek and rubs his thumb back and forth. “You’re okay right? He didn’t hurt you?” He questions.

“Yeah I’m okay. He only grabbed my arm but it didn’t really hurt that bad.”

It’s silent for a couple minutes until Taiju calls your name, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You look at him then take a deep breath and lunge at him. Your momentum made him fall back on his butt while he holds on tight to you.

You hold onto him so tightly like he’s going to disappear any second. That makes his heart break. He’s not going to let ANYONE take you from him. He’s seen you hug other people but it’s never been this tight. He’s your comfort, he’s your safe place and that makes his heart race. It fills him with a warmth that he’s never really felt before.

He runs his hand up and down your back, “I’m right here. Take your time. It’s just you and me.”

After you calm down and he feels you relax you speak up, “I didn’t want to burden you. You already have so much on your plate and you work so hard. I thought if I can handle this by myself and not have any problems then it was okay.” You clench on him tighter, “I was also afraid you would think I was a snitch. I don’t want to be apart from you Taiju. I love working for you and being around you.”

You pull yourself back and look at him, you place one hand on his cheek. He is quick to place on of his hands in yours. You clear your throat, “Taiju, I fell for you. I didn’t want to lose you. If I did my heart would shatter. I just want to be with you and at the time I thought that was the only way I could stay with you. Even if you didn’t feel the same way, just being able to work for you makes me happy. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

Taiju and you just stare at each other. Taiju mumbles, “Fuck it.” Then surges up and connects your lips. The hand that was on yours goes to the back your head to keep you close. Your hand that was on his cheek slides down to his chest and clenches his shirt.

You feel all the passion and love he is putting behind this. He has obviously felt the same this entire time. You both need air so you two disconnect.

You pant heavily while looking at Taiju. He’s smirking at you and you just laugh and connect your foreheads. You play the ends of the hair, “I don’t have the sheets anymore. He ripped them up.”

Taiju rolls his eyes, “We are not talking about that right now. We can worry about that another day this week. Right now we are just going to enjoy each other.”

You peck his lips real quick, “I am perfectly happy with that.”

“Do you want to make me a drink?”

You push yourself to sit straighter, “Are you serious?” You look deep into his eyes. Taiju rolls his eyes, “Yes I’m serious. After today I need a serious drink.”

You jump off of him and grab his hand, “Follow me then! Maybe later we can do something else to relax you.”

Taiju lets out a deep laugh, “I love how you think pretty girl.”

#taiju x reader #taiju shiba x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tr x reader

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gingerteafairy · 3 months ago

Text

i want to thank @marchsfreakshow for encouraging me to post it. this is insanely long, had to be divided into other chapters, this is the first one. hope you guys like it because i loved to write this fic. sorry for the mistakes here. english is not my first language. special thanks for @ikkyfics!!

THE GREAT GUIDE FOR JAILBIRDS IN LOVE

warren lipka x fem!reader part two

summary: tough times shows up after prision. His only alternative? Working miles away from home. The name of the place was almost faded, but he could still make it out: Last Chance Market.

tags n warnings: postprison!warren, singlemom!reader, language, age gap (late 20s/early 30s), suggestive, complicated family scenario. word count: 13k

Rule #1: Make a Good Impression

Warren was cornered. Spending time in prison wasn’t as tough as what came after: having to rebuild his life from scratch, with that stupid criminal record hanging around his neck like a weight. There was no place for him anywhere, not even at street corner markets selling stolen cigarettes. He felt useless. He’d been turned down even for a job at a sleazy motel, where not even the criminal underworld seemed to want him anymore. Rent was overdue, and his last meal of the month was expired cereal from a month ago and a warm bottle of beer, which he was still deciding whether or not to drink to numb the pain a little.

He had almost given up on looking for more opportunities. Maybe selling art on the beach, like Spencer, or getting rid of all the junk in his place until he was left with just a bed and a fridge. Because, honestly, even a wood-burning stove could come in handy these days.

What was there to do now? The answer was simple: absolutely nothing. Just shrink. He slouched on the couch, legs stretched out, eyes glued to his phone screen, as if it were his last lifeline. The internet bill was the only thing he had managed to keep up with. Funny. He could be broke and starving, but funny videos were a relief. Reality, no matter how harsh, could wait. He mindlessly scrolled through the feed, as if in some way postponing the inevitable, until a message flashed on the screen, snapping him out of his stupor.

Spencer:

Hey man. My buddy’s market is hiring. Cashier. Male. $1,720. Fuel help. Only requirement is knowing how to count change. No small talk. Just show up today at 3 PM.

It was impossible not to feel an immediate sense of relief, like life had suddenly given him a second chance. This had to be some kind of miracle. But of course, there was a catch. It was already 2 PM, and the market was on the other side of the city. So, what did he do? Like an automatic reflex, he glanced at the dirty mirror on the wall. He needed a shower, at least.

He grabbed his phone again without thinking twice. Before stepping into the bathroom, he sent Spencer a message.

Warren:

Thanks, man. I know this could be my last shot before I fade into invisibility.

Spencer:

I know things are tough. Good luck. I know you’ll nail it.

With that, Warren rushed into the shower, doing the bare minimum to look like someone who hadn’t completely lost himself. He thought about his clothes. His first option was what was left of the most “decent” outfit— the T-shirt and jeans he’d worn the day of the robbery. “Great, perfect impression, Warren Lipka,” he muttered, staring at himself in the mirror. The shirt was wrinkled, and the jeans had a hole in the pocket, but deep down, he didn’t care anymore. Ironing? Maybe another day. If he had to go, he might as well go in style. A style that was wrinkled, but still, style.

He checked the GPS and entered the address. The drive would be long, the kind of trip that makes you see parts of the city you only know by name. It felt like a tour, but of a place you didn’t want to know. The city stretched out, as if it couldn’t quite handle its own misery. Finally, he reached a run-down market and parked in a secluded corner. The name of the place was almost faded, but he could still make it out: Last Chance Market.

“Last Chance? What a joke,” he muttered to himself, laughing quietly as he stepped out of the car. He locked the door quickly, not wasting time. What kind of neighborhood was this? You never know when a bigger problem might pop up, something worse than a simple job interview.

He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, but a strange wave of nervousness hit him. It was just another job, he told himself. Just another one, a way to get things moving, even a little. If he was lucky, maybe he'd even come out with some dignity. If he was unlucky... well, he was used to that.

The one thing he knew for sure was that, somehow, life wouldn’t wait for him to figure things out. He had to try. Even if it was at a place called Last Chance.

He pushed open the door, hearing the little bell ring, announcing his entrance. The place was so quiet that the sound seemed to echo in the emptiness. As Warren had expected, no one was in sight. He let out a low, almost scornful laugh, twirling his car keys in his fingers before slipping them into his pocket. "This place looks like it’s been forgotten," he thought, feeling an odd sense of discomfort, but he knew there was no choice but to press on.

“Is anyone here?” he shouted, hoping no one would answer. That way, he could just turn around and leave this bizarre place behind, a bad judgment call.

The silence lingered for a few seconds, but no answer came. With nothing else to do, he shrugged and began walking through the narrow aisles. Hands in his pockets, Warren scanned the area, his eyes sharp, looking for any sign of a security camera. No security in this place? Typical. He gave a crooked smile, and as he passed a shelf, he grabbed a chocolate bar and slipped it into his pocket with a quick, almost natural motion.

"Why are you stealing?" The sudden, sharp voice of a child cut through the air, making Warren jump back, knocking the candy off the shelf. They fell to the floor with a small clatter, creating an absurd scene. "Shit, that scared the hell out of me."

"Jesus, kid. Where did you..." He muttered, instinctively raising his fist, as if it were an automatic reaction, but quickly lowering it when he saw the child. It was just a little boy, there was no way he could hit someone that young. "I wasn’t stealing, man. I was just saving it to pay later."

"Luke, who are you talking to?" Her voice came in soft but firm. Warren turned, his eyes widening, and there you were: so beautiful, it almost seemed out of place in this dead-end town. You appeared so suddenly he barely had time to process it.

"Talking to this guy who was..." The little boy began to reply, but you interrupted him with a calm smile.

"Warren Lipka." He quickly introduced himself, extending his hand to you. He wanted to make a good impression, or at least seem less pathetic than he felt. "I’m here for the job interview they said was going on."

You paused for a moment, then let out a short laugh, gentler than he expected. "Oh, you’re Warren, I should’ve guessed." You shook his hand politely, with a confidence he couldn’t even pretend to have. Then, with a motherly gesture, you turned back to the boy, who was still staring curiously at Warren.

You bent down and kissed the boy on the top of his head, the gesture so natural, like it was something you did every day. Afterward, you turned and started walking toward a door behind the cashier. "Come on, or are you going to steal another chocolate?" You asked, your voice laced with light teasing. Warren almost wanted to bury himself right then and there, embarrassed for being caught.

"How..." He began to ask, unsure of what exactly to say.

"Hidden camera," you explained, flashing a mischievous smile. You watched as he began scanning the room with his eyes, trying to piece together what had just happened. "I’ll show you later. Now come on."

With one last glance around the place, Warren, still confused and wearing an awkward smile, followed you to the door.

The room revealed was simple, with white walls and a large shelf on one side covered in folders and a few books—most of them children’s books, others Warren couldn’t identify, but from the titles, he could tell they were probably boring. You gestured for him to sit, and then took a seat across the desk. Warren distractedly looked at the small photo on the desk: the little boy outside, smiling beside you in a park filled with trees. Their smiles, so natural, reflected a moment of happiness.

"You two look alike." Warren started the conversation, pointing at the photo with one hand while the other fiddled in his pocket.

"They say he has my eyes. But I think it’s the hair, maybe the shape of the face." You smiled softly, stretching your neck to look at the photo more closely, the movement light and effortless.

"Maybe it’s the eyes. They really do look like yours." Warren said, shaking his head with a somewhat awkward smile. "You’re a really great older sister."

You let out a soft laugh, masking a smile that slipped out for just a moment. "Thanks, but Luke’s my son."

Warren froze, his jaw dropping at the revelation. He widened his eyes, unable to believe it, then quickly disguised his shock, putting his hands to his mouth like he was trying to wipe the look of disbelief off his face. "Now it all makes sense," he murmured, unaware of how visibly stunned he was.

"What?" You asked, raising an eyebrow, curious.

"I’ve never seen a sibling so affectionate. I used to fight with mine all the time." Warren laughed, still in disbelief, furrowing his brow casually as if trying to make the moment less awkward.

"Really? I had Luke when I was really young, 18 years old to be exact." You added, your hands folding on the table, your expression now more serious, as if you were sharing a piece of your story.

"Damn. God, I’m sorry. Shit, I feel like such an idiot now." Warren muttered, running a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable.

"It’s fine. You don’t need to get nervous." You quickly reassured him, your voice calm and soothing. You leaned forward slightly, as if trying to show empathy for him in that moment.

"And I even called you beautiful. Shit, I’m really not cut out for this." Warren placed his hands on his head, leaning on the table with a heavy sigh. He lifted his eyes to you, his gaze now loaded with guilt. "You think your husband would kill me if he knew?"

"Maybe he would, if I had one." You joked, tilting your head lightly in a playful way, trying to ease the tension in the air. Warren noticed a slight sadness in your voice that didn’t go unnoticed, but for some reason, he decided not to bring it up.

You sighed, straightening your posture and sitting up straighter as if shifting the conversation. "Alright. You’re hired."

"What? Already? What about the interview..." He paused, scratching his head, visibly surprised at how quickly the decision had been made.

"You were hired the moment you walked through that door." You laughed softly, stretching in your chair casually. "Not many people make it out here."

"No wonder. A dump like this..." He scoffed, mocking the place, but his eyes widened when he realized what he’d just said. "Oh my god. Again. Shit, I just say the dumbest stuff. Sorry."

"Don’t worry about it. It really is a dump." You laughed, getting up and walking around the table with light steps. Out of nowhere, you surprised him with a quick, almost warm hug that left Warren feeling momentarily disoriented. "Welcome, Warren."

"Thanks. I won’t let you down." He said, offering a weak smile, but mentally cursing himself for noticing how good you smelled as you pulled away. The feeling of being an idiot didn’t leave his chest.

Warren opened the door for you, and you gave him a gentle smile, your eyes sparkling with a kind of genuine warmth. He followed right behind you, closing the door with a soft click, breathing deeply as he watched you walk through the market, seemingly immersed in something only you knew. He wondered if it was something related to the boy’s father or if you were just worried about something missing from the shelves.

"Did you pay for the chocolate?" Little Luke inquired, a confused expression plastered on his face.

"How old are you, kid?" Warren questioned, furrowing his brow, briefly glancing at you before returning his gaze to the boy.

"Seven. But I’m almost eight. In nine months and thirteen days." Luke declared proudly, crossing his arms like an adult.

"Weird kid." Warren thought to himself, silently laughing at the little one with big, curious eyes. Something about him seemed strangely familiar. So he pulled a dollar bill out of his pocket and handed it to the boy. Maybe it was a desire to please you or to apologize to the kid. "Here. It’s for the chocolate."

"It’s $2.35. You’re short $1.35." Luke blinked, extending his hand toward him.

"Oh, kid. Just take the dollar and be quiet, alright? I’m struggling here." Warren hissed at the boy, but instead of crying, the little one just smiled.

"You’re weird. I like you." He chuckled, a funny, purely childlike melody echoing through the small space of the market.

Something warmed in Warren’s chest as he watched that toothless smile. The thought of being a dedicated father flooded his mind, creating false scenarios of an idealized life – a family smiling, him hugging his wife, holding his son in his arms, walking him to school, giving him a dog, teaching him how to shoot. Damn, he’d do anything to be the best dad for Luke, and it wouldn’t even be just because he wanted to win over the beautiful mom from the market. That was the one thing missing from his life, maybe that’s why he was born.

"If you start today, I can give you a tip." Your voice, breaking the idealized moment, brought Warren back to reality. He was an ex-convict, semi-in-love with a single mom, and still trying to figure out if any of this even made sense.

"You don’t have to. I can help." He tried to hide the silly smile that was about to appear, taking the uniform you handed him.

"I insist. The salary’s not great, and you’re practically the only employee here." You remarked, with that radiant smile Warren had already memorized. The sincerity in your tone was palpable.

"No, seriously. Don’t worry about it. It’ll be a pleasure working with you." He stated without thinking, quickly clearing his throat with a small gesture. "Working with you. You get it."

"Yes. Thanks. I owe you one." You waved your hand, heading back to the room with Luke happily trailing behind you, both walking away while Warren stood there, eyes fixed, his heart still beating harder than usual.

"Alright… time to work." Warren stretched lazily, raising his arms above his head before shuffling toward the employee bathroom.

The space was small and functional, a far cry from the public restroom, which for some reason, was absurdly large and had a strange smell that didn’t leave, even with air freshener. He grabbed the uniform you had given him—a yellow shirt with the store’s name printed on the front. Since there were no pants in the package, he decided his own would do the trick.

When he came out of the bathroom, he closed the door with a quiet click and, with a swift motion, tied his hair in a tiny ponytail. He walked to the register, where you were already standing with a notebook in hand. The moment you heard his footsteps, you looked up.

"Looks good on you." Your tone was kind as you pointed to the shirt identical to yours. He hadn’t even noticed when you had changed—maybe it was when you went into the back room.

"Now we match, look." The voice emerged from behind him. Luke appeared beside him, wearing the same uniform, which, even in the smallest size, was still too big for his tiny frame.

"Yeah, kid. Now we’re coworkers. A real man." Warren smiled and lowered his hand for a high five with the boy, who tried to slap it with all his might.

"Wow. You’re strong. You gonna tell me you’ve been training secretly?"

"I train. I watch fight videos on YouTube." Luke replied proudly, striking a boxing guard pose.

"Luke, we’ve talked about this." Your voice came with a warning tone as you approached.

"Ah, mom. I don’t watch blood. Only sometimes." He pouted indignantly, and you tilted your head before pinching his nose with two fingers.

"Ow, mom!"

"Didn’t see that coming, huh?" Warren chuckled without thinking, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment longer than necessary. In the brief silence that followed, something in his expression made his heart skip a beat. Warren Lipka didn’t seem like the dangerous criminal from the TV—just a guy with a big heart and an intensity that even he didn’t realize he had.

“Yeah... we have a routine.” You cleared your throat, shaking off the unnecessarily sweet thoughts and handing the sheet over to him. “Monday is deep cleaning day, Saturday we count the stock. I’m here at 8 AM every day, except Thursday, when I pick up Luke from his grandparents’ house and drop him off at school. I get here at 10 AM that day. The rest is pretty easy, not much movement. Here, take this to memorize.”

“Got it.” Warren took the notebook, noticing how detailed your notes were.

“Today is Wednesday. You’ll be in the deli section.”

“Just checking expiration dates?”

“Yep. Luke usually helps me, but today he has homework.”

“Can I stay with Warren first?” Luke inquired, his eyes shining with expectation.

You gave an indulgent smile before raising an eyebrow. “Promise you won’t fight with your classmates at school tomorrow?”

“I promise.” He nodded firmly and raised his pinky. “But only tomorrow.”

Warren let out a low chuckle, and you gave him a playful disapproving look.

“Don’t encourage him.”

“Sorry. I couldn’t help it.” He laughed even harder, covering his mouth with his hand. “Let’s go, Luke. Let’s see if this meat is still good. Did you know that a lot of good meat gets thrown away here in the US? I used to collect it.”

“Seriously?” Luke’s eyes widened as he walked alongside him to the refrigerators.

“Yeah. I’d go to markets like this one and take the ones that were still good.” Warren opened the fridge and started checking the labels. Then he paused, blinking as if realizing too late what he’d just said. “…But don’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s wrong.” He tried to hold back his laughter but failed miserably. “Hey, what do you think of this one?” He picked up a steak package and held it up for Luke to see.

“I think it’s still good to freeze. It’s got 10 days left.”

“A deal, then. 50% off this stuff that’s about to expire.” Warren shrugged, smiling and tossing the package back into the freezer.

…

Warren paced restlessly back and forth in their usual café, his hands moving nervously, his nails gnawed down to the quick, until a small piece of nail polish chipped off. He could feel a tightness in his chest, as if he were about to burst. His body swayed back and forth, his gaze locked on the clock on the wall, the anxiety consuming him. The weight of the conversation he was about to have was crushing his mind. When he finally saw Spencer walk through the door, the relief was instant, but it didn’t ease his nerves. His snack, the one he’d ordered earlier, lay forgotten on the table, untouched. He didn’t even notice it was still there.

Spencer greeted a few people in the café with a disinterested wave before walking over to the table. He sat down, casually tossing his backpack into the chair beside him, and extended his hand to shake Warren's.

“I want to be a stepdad.” Warren blurted out, not wasting a moment, before Spencer had a chance to say anything. The words came out fast, clinging to his chest like gum, almost as if the pressure had reached a point where it could no longer be ignored.

"Hey, how’s it going, Spencer? How’s work? Good. Thanks." Spencer mocked, rolling his eyes at Warren’s approach. He leaned back in his chair, letting out a sarcastic laugh. "We haven’t talked in two weeks, and that’s the first thing out of your mouth?"

Warren didn’t care about the teasing. His mind was already fixated on what he had to say. "It’s been two weeks since I met my son." He slammed his hand on the table with conviction, the slap of his palm echoing in the otherwise quiet café. The tension in his body was palpable now, his shoulders tight. He quickly ran a hand through his disheveled hair and pulled a nicotine lozenge from his pocket, placing it in his mouth almost mechanically.

"Since when are you quitting smoking?" Spencer asked, raising an eyebrow, an almost amused smile tugging at his lips as he reached out to grab one of the lozenges and popped it into his own mouth.

"Since I realized innocent people suffer from the crap smokers exhale," Warren replied in a serious tone, biting down harder on the snack, the crunch almost matching the stress he was feeling. "I saw it in the paper."

Spencer frowned, skeptical, but chose not to comment. Instead, he flagged down the waitress to put in an order. The conversation was starting to take a curious turn, and he didn’t want to miss his chance to figure out what was really going on with his friend. The café bell rang, and suddenly, Eric appeared at the door, casually waving to the crowd before heading straight to the table.

"Hey, guys." Eric greeted, throwing himself into a chair and locking eyes with Warren.

"Warren wants to be a stepdad." Spencer said, his tone bored, hiding a smirk of irony, and Warren smiled broadly, relieved to finally say it out loud. It was a mix of nervousness and excitement he couldn’t quite suppress.

"Dude, that’s a bad idea." Eric shook his head, disapproval written all over his face. He leaned forward slightly, as if preparing to explain himself seriously. "Those things never work out. Once you get attached to the mom, she’s never gonna let you go. You’ll regret it."

"That’s sexist, Eric." Warren hissed, grabbing Spencer’s coffee cup and taking a sip without caring that it was someone else’s drink. He knew he was breaking the unspoken rules of the café, but he needed something—anything—to relieve the pressure building inside. "And what’s wrong with her getting attached? I like her."

"When’s her birthday?" Eric shot back, his voice relentless, eyes narrowing as if he were conducting an interrogation.

"I don’t know." Warren replied quickly, but a hint of doubt crept in.

"And the kid’s?" Eric pressed, staring at Warren, waiting for a response.

"Wait, I remember, he told me..." Warren trailed off, trying to recall the details.

"What’s her favorite color, and why is it blue?" Eric fired again, a mocking edge in his tone.

"That’s not the point!" Warren snapped, throwing his hands up in exasperation, his frustration growing. "I don’t know, man. It’s the way she looks at me. Her and that weird kid. The little pest knows everything, he rattles off stuff I don’t even know. He answered 37 + 53 like it was nothing."

"90." Eric responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"That doesn't count, you're a robot." Warren muttered, shaking the snack bag with frustration as he glared at Spencer. He noticed the bag was almost empty. "No, seriously. The kid’s really smart. I know he’s not mine and everything. But I’d make an effort. He has the same nose as me."

"Alright, you're stretching it a bit now." Spencer warned, his voice taking on a serious tone as he finished his coffee with a sigh, setting the empty cup on the table. "What about the job?"

"Tiring. I lift boxes, stack them, store everything. I do almost everything. She helps with cleaning and sometimes takes the register when I'm organizing the fridges. The kid helps her with the change. Everyone who passes by loves him."

"Hmmm. Sounds good." Eric shrugged as the waitress approached with a new order, and he gave a distracted thumbs-up.

"What made you change your mind?" Spencer asked, his curiosity piqued as he looked at Warren with more intensity, his eyebrows raised in genuine interest.

"She’s a hard worker. Women like that are strong. She’s probably fought hard to get this far." Eric spoke with an almost knowing conviction, his tone calm but determined. "Just don’t screw it up, Warren."

"Now it’s my fault?" Warren defended himself, shaking his head in frustration as he stood up from the table, stepping back slightly while slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Where are you going?" Spencer looked up, concern now evident on his face.

"Home. I need to get some sleep for work tomorrow. See you guys." Warren replied quickly, his movements hurried, shoulders tight as he turned to leave. The tension still hung in the air, but he needed a moment alone to process everything.

Rule #2: (Try) Not to Stick Your Nose in Other People’s Business.

Warren woke up earlier than usual that morning. He felt surprisingly energized, a rare occurrence, so he made sure to take a proper shower before heading out for work. He knew that today was one of those days you tended to be late, so he planned to take care of everything until you arrived.

As he parked the car in front of the shop, his eyes immediately found you sitting on the doorstep, shoulders slumped, hands pressing against your head. Something was off. His chest tightened at the sight. You looked... desperate.

His brows furrowed slightly, and Warren stepped out of the car, walking toward you with measured steps, trying not to invade your space too abruptly.

"Hey, are you okay?" His voice was low, cautious, as if afraid of startling you.

You quickly lifted your face, eyes misty, and your chest rose and fell unevenly, betraying the anxiety trapped in your breathing.

"It’s Luke..." Your voice cracked, and you stood up, your hands nervously twisting in front of your chest. "My car broke down, I can't pick him up from his grandparents’ house, and it's almost time for school. He’s going to miss class, and his teacher already said he’s struggling. My brother isn’t answering, no taxis are coming, and..."

With every word, the weight in your chest grew heavier. You didn’t even notice your hands trembling until Warren gently interrupted your spiraling thoughts.

"Hey, hey." His voice was firm but kind, and without thinking much, he pulled you into an embrace.

The warmth of his body surrounded you, and the sudden gesture made your walls crumble for just a second. The woody scent of his cologne mixed with the softness of his jacket fabric made you realize how tense you were. Your heart, which had been pounding against your ribs, began to slow down.

"Sorry. I thought you needed this," he murmured close to your ear.

You exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and pulled back slightly, but without fully breaking the closeness.

"I did. Thank you." Your voice was steadier now, though there was still a lingering edge of panic. You quickly wiped your face with your hands, trying to erase the traces of tears. "Sorry for unloading all this on you, I’m just... desperate."

Warren tilted his head slightly, watching you closely, as if he were analyzing every layer of your nervousness before speaking.

"Where’s his grandparents’ house?" His voice was resolute, like he had already made up his mind.

You blinked a few times, confused by the sudden question.

"What?"

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, taking a deep breath before repeating himself.

"Where’s Luke’s address? I’ll go pick him up."

You froze for a moment, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. Your instincts told you to refuse — he was just your employee, he didn’t need to get involved. But the desperation pressing down on you was heavier than the pride that wanted to hold you back.

"You’d do that?"

The smile that appeared on Warren’s lips was small, but genuine, his dimples barely visible as he grinned. His eyes lingered on them for a moment before you realized you were smiling too, even if shyly.

"Why wouldn’t I?" He raised an eyebrow, as though genuinely finding your hesitation puzzling.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Your chest warmed in a strange way.

"Come on. Let’s go." He gestured toward the car.

"And the shop?"

"Ah, no one comes here at this time anyway." He chuckled, as if the place was his to command. And for a moment, you found yourself wishing it was.

Warren walked around the car and opened the passenger door, waiting patiently for you to get in before closing it carefully with a swift motion. He settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

The silence stretched for a few seconds. You were still tense, biting your lower lip, trying to hold onto the last threads of control. Warren noticed and, without saying a word, turned on the radio. A loud rock song blasted through the speakers.

"Shit." He muttered, quickly lowering the volume and switching stations.

The sensual melody of Careless Whisper filled the car.

"Goddamn radio." He grumbled again, spinning the dial hastily. This time, soft instrumental music filled the air. "Better," he said, leaning back into his seat and relaxing.

You chuckled quietly. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"For this." You gestured vaguely at the radio and at him. Warren cast a quick glance in your direction before returning his focus to the road.

"Do you like the job?" You asked, trying to ease the weight of the moment, your fingers nervously tapping on the edge of the seat.

"Yeah, actually, I’m pretty attached to it. I think it was my last chance to be a decent citizen." He said with a playful smile, his eyes momentarily glancing at you before turning back to the road.

You tilted your head slightly, studying his profile for a beat, the soft tension in the air palpable.

"Do you like it just for that?" Your question came out more curious than you’d intended, a little more pointed than you planned.

Warren gripped the steering wheel with one hand, using the other to run through his hair, the hint of a mysterious smile curling at the corners of his lips.

"There are other reasons too."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly turned your gaze to the window, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. You weren't sure why, but the way he said it unsettled you, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

"What about you? Do you like your job?"

You let out a soft, nasal laugh, tilting your head back slightly. "Being the manager of a run-down market wasn’t exactly my childhood dream."

Warren chuckled through his nose, shaking his head in amusement. "How’d you end up there?"

Your smile faltered slightly, and you took a deep breath before answering.

"Well... I got pregnant with Luke."

The atmosphere in the car shifted subtly. Warren fell silent for a moment, as if processing the weight of your words, his hands firm on the wheel, eyes focused ahead.

"Do you regret it?" He asked quietly, his voice softer now, laced with genuine concern.

"In the beginning, it was hard. I didn’t have much support, just graduated high school. College seemed impossible." You glanced down at your hands resting on your lap, fingers twisting nervously. Warren nodded slowly, never looking away from the road. "But then he was born, and... everything changed. It was like my whole life suddenly had a new meaning."

Warren smiled, his thoughts clearly drifting to Luke. And as he did, he realized something interesting: his smile was almost identical to the boy's. That same genuine sparkle in his eyes, a light untouched by time, despite all the struggles life had thrown their way. Without thinking, Warren’s own smile softened, mirroring the one he had just seen.

"Can I ask you about his dad, or would that be too intrusive?" Warren’s voice was gentle now, eyes fixed on you, the concern clear in his gaze.

"No... no, it’s not intrusive." You shook your head, a quiet sigh escaping your lips. "Luke's dad is complicated. He was a great father in the first few months, but then he started saying that Luke was getting in the way of his career."

"What a jerk." Warren spat without thinking, his jaw tightening in indignation. He frowned, immediately realizing his own boldness. "Sorry."

"No... jerk is too mild a word." You shot back, your tone still sharp, but softened by the vulnerability that lingered beneath it. Warren relaxed his shoulders, relieved that he hadn’t crossed a line. "When he said that, I couldn’t take it anymore and ended it. Since then, it’s just been me and Luke. I ended up raising him alone with the help of my parents. Luke doesn’t even know who he is. I prefer it that way. If he asks about him in the future, I’ll tell him, but not now. I’m still angry about it, though."

Warren nodded slowly, processing your words, his expression softening with understanding. For a moment, the only sound in the car was the hum of the engine and the distant rumble of tires on the road.

Finally, Warren let out a small, knowing smile, his gaze gentle.

"I may not know much about you guys, but Luke is a really cool kid." Warren’s voice held a genuine tone of admiration. "Not many seven-year-olds can count the days until their own birthday."

"You really think so?" Your eyes lit up at the question, and a soft smile crept onto your lips, the warmth spreading across your face.

"Of course. The kid’s a little terrifying sometimes, I’ll admit." Warren teased, making you laugh out loud. "Seriously, I get freaked out when he starts doing mental math."

"He’s the best in his class at math." You said, the pride evident in your voice.

Warren rolled his eyes dramatically, his expression playful. "Of course he is. That kid’s going places. He’s going to be the next Einstein, and they’ll write books about him. Mark my words."

You laughed again, and Warren held onto that sound, savoring it, like it was a melody he didn’t want to forget. The sound was infectious, and his chest swelled with an unfamiliar warmth.

"He sounds like my brother. He was always super smart, too. Top of his class, just like Luke. He’s the one who owns the market and helped me get this job. That’s how I ended up there."

"So it’s in the genes."

"Maybe." You fell quiet for a moment, absentmindedly running your fingers through your hair, a warm feeling blooming in your chest. Your thoughts drifted as you absentmindedly added, "Does he have a girlfriend?"

The question came out casually, but it hung in the air with an unexpected weight, more serious than you’d intended.

"Me?" Warren raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard. He let out a surprised laugh, his face lit up with disbelief. When you nodded, he shook his head, still laughing. "That’s a good one."

"Why?" You chuckled, leaning slightly towards him. "What’s wrong with that? You’re good-looking, charming, funny. There must be someone."

Warren snorted, resting his elbow against the car window, the air suddenly a little heavier. "Oh, yeah, sure, women love a former convict who can’t even afford a Coke." His voice had a mocking tone, but there was something beneath the sarcasm—a hint of self-deprecation that made your chest tighten with empathy.

"No... no one." He answered quietly, his gaze now fixed on the road ahead. "What about you?"

"No…" Your response came out almost hesitantly, and for a brief moment, a flicker of hope danced in your mind before you pushed it aside.

The conversation fell into a heavy silence, the kind that lingered like a thick fog between you. You could feel the change in the air, the tension that wasn’t quite palpable but couldn’t be ignored either. You silently thanked the universe that you were close to your destination. As Warren parked the car, you quickly unbuckled your seatbelt and stepped out, eager to escape the weight of your own thoughts before they dragged you deeper into uncertainty.

You hurried up to the door, your hand moving quickly to press the doorbell without hesitation. Warren followed closely behind, stopping a step back, his body still tense, his eyes scanning the surroundings as if ready for something unexpected.

The door swung open.

And then, your blood ran cold.

"Daniel?" Your voice came out as a strained rasp, barely a whisper, your face draining of color instantly.

The man standing there, with his captivating green eyes and a charming smile, widened the door to let you in. "I was really hoping to talk to you. Come on in."

He then looked at Warren, sizing him up with a quick, calculating glance before extending his hand. "Hey, man. How’s it going? I'm Daniel Beavers, but you can call me Dan."

Warren held his gaze for a second longer than necessary, his jaw tightening, before he shook Daniel's hand with deliberate firmness. "Warren." His voice was cold, the warmth and ease from earlier gone completely.

Daniel laughed, a little too loudly. "Damn, you’re strong." He gave Warren a friendly slap on the back, but Warren didn’t flinch, keeping his expression neutral, only offering a polite smile before stepping inside.

Once out of Daniel’s line of sight, Warren leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, his breath brushing your ear. "Who’s that guy?"

You swallowed hard, keeping your gaze fixed on the floor for a moment before your voice barely escaped your lips, a whisper heavy with discomfort. "Luke’s father."

Warren went silent for a beat, his body stiffening as though the weight of your words had struck him physically. His chest tightened, and his next words came out as a low, almost inaudible murmur. "Shit."

Without thinking, his body straightened, as if some primal instinct had taken over. His shoulders subtly broadened, and he instinctively positioned himself a bit closer to you, as if shielding you from whatever lay ahead. The gesture was so natural, so automatic, it was almost like he was becoming a human barrier.

He didn’t have the right to interfere.

But something inside him screamed that he should.

“Hi, mom!”

Luke’s cheerful voice shattered the tense silence in the room. The little boy appeared, his backpack already slung over his shoulders, running to hug you before turning to Warren with a bright, wide smile.

"Warren!" he exclaimed, launching himself into Warren’s legs for a tight hug.

"Hey, little man. Hope I didn’t take too long." Warren grinned, gently messing up Luke’s hair.

Luke pulled away, furrowing his brow. "What happened? I thought you weren’t gonna come."

"The car broke down, buddy. Warren’s gonna take you to school." You explained, maintaining a smile, though out of the corner of your eye, you couldn’t ignore the way Daniel was watching the scene, his gaze quiet and calculating.

"Cool!" Luke cheered, raising his hand for a high-five with Warren. "Can I sit in the front?"

"Not this time, kiddo." Warren pretended to sound disappointed, crouching down to meet his eyes with a playful expression. "But next time, I promise."

"Okay." Luke whispered, clapping his hands excitedly.

You glanced around the room, feeling the house unusually quiet. "Where are your grandparents?"

"They went to the market. They’re planning a party for Daniel. For some celebration." Luke answered innocently, not noticing the way your shoulders tensed at the mention of Daniel’s name.

You inhaled deeply, trying to keep your composure. "Alright, let’s go. Luke’s gonna be late. It was nice seeing you, Daniel." The falseness of your smile was clear, but it was a necessary mask.

"Wait." Daniel stepped closer, pulling a shiny gold envelope with navy blue details from his pocket. He extended it toward you, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "I didn’t even tell you the big news."

Your stomach churned before you even looked at the contents.

"Daniel and Honey?" Your voice came out low, almost incredulous.

"I’m inviting you to my wedding." He announced as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You can bring Warren too. It’d be great to have you both with us. Honey really wants to meet you."

Daniel then pulled out a smaller piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Warren, who hesitated for a moment before reluctantly taking it.

You laughed—not out of happiness, but out of pure disgust. "Yeah, Daniel. You really outdo yourself every day." You stuffed the invitation into your pocket without a second thought.

"It’ll be great to have you there." He softened his voice, his hand making an almost theatrical gesture as it brushed your arm. "Please, sweetheart…"

The silence was thick, suffocating.

Warren watched the scene unfold like a predator studying its prey. His jaw was clenched tight, and his fists were subtly balled at his sides, barely contained by the tension in his body. Something inside him had already pegged Daniel as a fool, but seeing this whole act up close... that was too much. His protective instincts kicked in.

He couldn’t hold back any longer.

"Dude, what’s up with this? Don’t you think this is a little weird?" Warren broke the silence, his voice a low growl that drew every eye in the room to him. His tone came out rougher than he intended, but at that moment, he didn’t care to hide his feelings.

Daniel blinked, genuinely confused by Warren’s reaction. "Weird? Why would it be weird?"

That question only fueled the fire inside Warren.

"Don’t you realize how completely bizarre it is to invite your ex to your wedding without even giving a heads-up? You abandoned this kid, and now you show up years later like everything’s fine?" Warren narrowed his eyes, his muscles visibly tensing as his posture became more aggressive, as if he was ready to jump at any moment.

Daniel let out a nervous laugh, trying to downplay the situation with a dismissive gesture. "Relax, man. I just thought… I don’t know. We’d be good friends. Didn’t know she was already seeing someone again." He shrugged, giving you and Warren a mischievous look, as if he was enjoying the discomfort he was causing.

The statement caught Warren off guard for a moment, making his eyes narrow even further, but he quickly recovered, his expression hardening. "Yeah. Exactly." He reaffirmed without hesitation, crossing his arms firmly. "And even if she wasn’t, you can’t just keep popping in and out of people’s lives like it’s a game. Look at yourself. How old are you?"

Daniel was slightly thrown off, the first crack in his confidence showing in his hesitation. "Twenty-seven."

Warren let out a dry laugh, almost sarcastically. "Twenty-seven." He repeated, savoring the irony of the situation. Then, he stepped forward, forcing Daniel to retreat until his back hit the wall. The intensity of Warren’s presence was palpable. "Listen, man to man. I’m thirty-one. But I had a grip on things long before that."

The discomfort on Daniel's face was unmistakable. He tried to recover his posture, but Warren wasn’t letting him off the hook.

"Alright, man. No need to get all upset or rude." Daniel hissed, attempting to regain his composure as he pushed lightly against Warren’s chest. Warren instantly lifted a fist, ready for any reaction.

It was only then that he remembered you and Luke were still there, silently observing the scene. Warren took a deep breath, cracked his neck, and relaxed his shoulders before speaking in a more controlled voice, though still firm. "Stay out of our lives again, alright?"

Then, with a sharp smile, he straightened Daniel’s perfectly aligned suit jacket as if he were adjusting a porcelain doll, his touch almost mocking. "Are you a lawyer?"

"Yeah." Daniel replied automatically, quickly wiping where Warren had gripped him, trying to salvage his composure.

"I hate that kind." Warren muttered between his teeth, his gaze hardening, but he quickly turned to you, softening his expression. He gave you a more serene smile, almost affectionate. "Shall we go, babe?"

Your heart skipped a beat at hearing him say “babe.” Not out of fear, but because, in that moment, you realized something different. The way Warren said it felt... right. As though he had claimed a piece of you without even realizing it.

"For sure." You smiled, your eyes softening as you started walking toward the door. But then you stopped, turned around, and walked back to Daniel with steady steps.

Without hurrying, you took the invitation from your pocket with a smooth motion and extended it to him, without any emotional appeal. "Keep it for someone who actually wants to go. Best wishes!" Your voice was sweet, but the sarcasm beneath it was impossible to ignore. Every word carried a subtle criticism, something you could no longer hide.

Daniel stood there, frozen, holding the invitation as if he had finally realized it was irrelevant to you, his expression draining of any confidence he had left as the reality hit him. He was out of place. And that seemed clear to everyone in the room.

Warren opened the door for you to pass, but before you stepped out, he gave Daniel one last threatening glance. A silent, but clear, warning.

You both walked toward the car, no longer needing to hide the smile on your faces. The tension from the earlier conversation still hung in the air, but somehow, the whole situation seemed to have brought you even closer.

"Alright, all set..." Warren murmured as he buckled Luke's seatbelt in the back seat. "Now, school."

He was already turning to head to the driver's seat when Luke's curious little voice caught you both off guard:

"Are you and mommy dating?"

The silence that followed was instant. You and Warren froze for a second before exchanging a knowing glance.

Warren raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Well... I'm a pretty nosy guy," he said, looking directly at you before turning to Luke. "So, I guess we are."

He twisted the key in the ignition, but before pulling away, he cast a quick glance your way. "Is this alright with you? Us... this."

The question came without hesitation, but with a genuine undertone of concern. You held your breath for a moment, feeling the weight of the silent exchange between you two. Then, you smiled. Not just any smile, but one of those effortless, warm, and real smiles.

"Great." You replied, feeling a lightness in your chest.

He studied your face for a second longer than necessary, as if he wanted to lock that expression in his memory. Then, he nodded, a small smile forming at the corner of his lips.

"Great." He repeated, turning his attention back to the road before accelerating, as if the whole world had just fallen back into place.

Rule #3: Your friends aren’t always right.

After school, you drove to the grocery store. The car’s engine hummed softly before going silent as you turned the key in the ignition. The sound of the seatbelt undoing echoed in the silence between you. You opened the door and climbed out, unlocking the passenger door without looking back. Warren stepped out soon after, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets, his gaze scanning the storefront as if something was different, even though everything looked exactly the same.

Inside, the muffled sound of an old radio played some generic music as you made your way to the checkout. Warren, on the other hand, detoured to the warehouse, his steps slower than usual. The smell of dust and cardboard filled his nostrils as he entered. The shelves were crammed, the boxes stacked chaotically, as usual. But Warren didn’t care about any of that.

He just needed a moment here, alone, to gather his thoughts.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, unfolding it with trembling fingers. His gaze ran over the words written there—how many times had he read them?—but before he could get lost in his own thoughts, the creak of the door opening made him quickly shove the paper back into his pocket.

"Can I come in?" Your voice sounded hesitant, head peeking through the crack in the door. He blinked a few times before forcing a smile.

"Of course you can. You own the place." He gestured with his hand, a relaxed movement, but his shoulders remained tense.

You walked in, closing the door behind you, the dry sound of wood echoing through the small space. Your eyes wandered around the warehouse for a second before returning to Warren, who was now swinging his foot on the floor, his right hand still deep in his pocket.

"I just came to say..." You began, walking slowly towards him. "Thank you for what you did today."

He let out a short, humorless laugh, looking away from you to the floor. "Oh, that?" His shoulders lifted in a casual gesture. "It was nothing. In fact, I think I was kind of stupid."

"No." Your answer came out firm, quick, taking him by surprise. You cleared your throat, trying to soften your tone. "It wasn't stupid. It was... it was really good. Really helpful. I lost my mind, I didn't know what to do in that situation. He was such an asshole."

Warren tilted his head to the side, watching your expression for a moment before asking, "Has he always been like this?"

You let out a tired sigh, leaning against the wall behind you. "I guess he always has. I just didn't want to notice."

"That sucks." He muttered, biting the inside of his cheek. After a second of hesitation, he walked over to stand next to you, leaning against the wall as well. "I guess we always have that in life. Not realizing the right person was right there."

You frowned, lifting your chin with a hint of indignation in your voice. "Why do we do this, huh? All the signs were there. The way he ignored me, how I had to ask him to the school dance..."

Warren turned his face towards you, blinking slowly. "You asked him to the school dance and not the other way around?"

"Yeah! Can you believe that?" You huffed, crossing your arms. "He said he forgot! When we were picking out my dress the night before!"

Warren closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a long sigh before muttering, "What an idiot." He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling, the fluorescent light above casting soft shadows on his face. With a slow movement, he licked his lips before speaking again. "I would never do that to you."

Your chest tightened, your breath catching for a second.

"What do you mean by that?" Your voice came out low, almost reluctant.

He pressed his teeth against his cheek, looking away to the floor, as if seeking courage there. When he finally looked back at you, his expression was more serious.

"I would never treat you like that." His voice was firm, but there was a certain hesitation in his gaze. "I'm not exactly a good guy, you know that. But I’d never leave you hanging like that."

"Really?" You leaned your head against the wall, still looking at him, your fingers tightening the hem of your blouse with an unconscious reflex of nervousness.

Warren nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips, almost as if he was amused by your reaction. You snorted and went back to staring at the ceiling. The silence that followed was almost palpable. Your breathing seemed to echo in the small warehouse, while the dust danced in the air under the yellowish light.

"Oh my God..." The laugh came low, exhaled along with a sigh.

"What?" He frowned, but the corner of his mouth still carried a trace of amusement.

"Now I want to go to Daniel's wedding with you just so he can see that I'm okay." You admitted, covering your face with your hands, feeling the heat rise to your ears. "That's so immature. I'm such an idiot."

Warren let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, come on, I don't care." Without hesitation, he took another step towards you, leaning in slightly as he gently removed your hands from your face. "I still have a password, we can say it's yours and that I'm following."

"No, Warren... That's not right." You protested, but the lightness of laughter was still present in your voice. "I'd be using you and that's so wrong..."

"Do it. I just don't want you to look like that because of that idiot." His voice lowered slightly, seriousness seeping into his tone.

"He doesn't deserve even a second of your emotions, of anything you have to offer. So use me. Do whatever you think is best, because you have a hard enough life to worry about anything else and I'm willing to do anything to help you."

Your heart stumbled in your chest when you felt his warm touch against your wrists. Warren gently lowered them, letting his hands rest on either side of your body. The space between you was decreasing with each passing second without anyone making an effort to break it.

He bit his lower lip, his gaze flickering between your mouth and your eyes. You felt your breath catch at the realization, heat rising in your stomach, in your cheeks. Your own attention followed suit—his lips, then his brown eyes, intense, filled with something unsaid but completely understood. The atmosphere was heavy in a way that seemed impossible to ignore.

Warren's heart hammered against his ribs as he raised one hand, bracing it on the wall beside you. The other still held yours. The space between your bodies slowly disappeared. He leaned toward you, his lashes lowering as your faces came closer, your breath mingling.

Then, the doorbell rang.

The sound cut through the moment like a sharp blade, making you both pull away in an instant. You took a step back, your chest rising and falling with your ragged breaths. Warren ran a hand through his hair, staring at the ceiling as if cursing the universe.

"I better... you know... go outside." He nodded, his voice thick with something that sounded like disappointment.

You nodded, crossing your arms over your body as if that could contain the wave of feelings that were stirring inside you. He hesitated for a moment before leaving, closing the door behind him. But he didn't leave right away—Warren leaned his back against the wood for a few seconds, exhaling slowly, trying to regain control. Only then did he pull away and walk to the cashier.

You stood there for a few more moments, your fingertips brushing your lips, as if trying to feel something that had never happened.

If you had kissed... would it have been wrong? Or was the doorbell a signal not to?

You shook your head, muttering "Stop it" to yourself, trying to push the thought away. But the knot in your chest was still there as you left the warehouse and headed back to the market.

Across the way, Warren was handing over the customer’s groceries with automatic movements, but his mind was elsewhere. When his eyes met yours, for just a second, something flared again—a question, an uncertainty, a regret.

Without saying anything, you looked away and walked into the office, busying yourself with anything that felt like work. You needed to distract yourself, needed to convince yourself that this didn’t mean anything.

The customer left, and Warren stood behind the register, still holding the last bag as if he’d forgotten to let go of it. His mind raced in circles, trying to find a way to talk about what had almost happened. To tell him how he felt without ruining everything.

He walked slowly to the office door and raised his hand to knock, but hesitated. His fingers hovered over the wood for a second before curling into a fist and pulling back.

This didn’t make sense. It wasn’t supposed to happen.

And if it did, he was sure it would ruin everything.

Eric was right. It was better to just give up.

Rule #4: Don't hold back an emotion for too long, it might take over you.

The doorbell rang, and Warren didn't even need to look up to know who it was. The familiar jingle of keychains rattling in his backpack and the sweet smell of grape candies in the air were enough to recognize Luke.

"Hey, little man. How was school today?" Warren beamed, walking around the counter with lazy steps to talk to the boy.

"It was nice." Luke replied excitedly, throwing his backpack on the floor before wrapping Warren in a brief, tight hug. Soon after, he pulled away and stuck his small hand in his pants pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. "Look, I made this today."

"Awesome, a frog." Warren took the green origami between his fingers, studying the careful folds. He turned the piece from side to side, smiling. "Where did you learn that?"

"On the internet, look. Come see, it jumps." Luke took it back, placed it on the counter, and pressed it lightly on the paper. The little frog jumped. "See?"

Warren raised an eyebrow. "Boy, you're scary." He tested the frog, squeezing the paper as Luke had done, and the creature jumped again. "This is witchcraft, isn't it? You put magic in it and didn't tell me, you little brat."

"No!" Luke laughed, shaking his head. "It's just origami. If you fold the paper the right way, it moves, like a lever."

"I see..." Warren feigned distrust, crossing his arms. "So it's pure skill and not some dark pact?"

Luke laughed, shaking his head. "Wanna make one?"

"Tsk, I don't know." Warren leaned back a little, as if it were a risky challenge. "I'm pretty sure I'll ruin it before I even touch the paper."

"Stop being a wimp." The boy, however, didn't take the refusal lying down. Luke took his hand with determination and pulled him down the hallway to the office. The air grew heavier as Warren walked through the door.

His eyes met yours for a moment too long. Something unresolved hung in the space between you, and you both looked away almost at the same time, disguising it with silent discomfort.

It had been a week.

Seven days since what almost happened in the warehouse.

Since then, conversations had been limited to short sentences about work, polite words that didn't fill the awkward silence. You spent as much time as possible in the office, while Warren remained at the cash register busy with anything other than talking to you. Always busy. The only close interaction happened when it was time to restock the shelves or when one of you left. And even then, you both avoided looking each other directly in the eyes.

"Hi, sweetheart. How was school today?" You broke the silence first, forcing a smile as Luke let go of Warren's hand and ran over to you.

"It was cool, but Warren and I are really busy right now." He explained excitedly, grabbing two sheets of paper from your desk.

"With what, exactly?" You asked, your gaze falling on Warren more than the boy.

"We're gonna make frogs." Warren answered casually, twirling the sheet between his fingers.

"Frogs?" Your brow furrowed slightly.

"Of paper, Mom." Luke rolled his eyes, as if your question was absurd. "I made one in class and now I'm going to teach Warren how to make one too. Sit here, facing Mom."

Warren hesitated, his eyes meeting yours again, almost as if he was asking for permission. You held his gaze for a second before nodding, pointing to the chair across from you. He sat down, looking guilty, shifting in his chair as Luke stood beside him, full of excitement.

"Here's how it is, follow everything I do or you'll get lost and do it all wrong." The boy began to fold the paper with precision. Warren imitated the movement, frowning in concentration.

"That's it. Now you're going to fold it here... like this."

"Okay..." Warren replicated the fold, narrowing his eyes to check if he was doing it right. "And now?"

"Do it like this, like this. Now fold it like this... Now turn it over. Don't let it get wrinkled, it has to be right. Turn it over again, fold it."

"Easy there, Luke. I'm old." Warren laughed, his hands fumbling to keep up with the boy's agile movements.

Luke snorted, but held back a smile. "You're slow, Warren."

"Hey, that was unnecessary." He made a playfully offended expression.

"Now just this one more and it's done!" Luke showed off his perfectly aligned frog, proud.

"Congratulations, honey!" You clapped your hands, amazed at your son's work. “It looks exactly like a frog. Good job.”

Warren looked at his origami, then at Luke’s. He held up his creation—a crumpled, shapeless ball—and raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, it looks just like mine.”

Luke laughed loudly. You put your hand over your mouth, trying to hold back your laughter too. “Sorry, Warren. It’s just so funny.”

“It looks like a frog that got run over!” Luke laughed, placing his hands on his stomach.

“I know, I know. I should’ve seen that coming. You two are against me.” Warren sighed dramatically, tossing the paper ball aside. “It’s definitely not for me. I’ll leave that to the little man and his super smart mom.”

But even though he failed miserably at origami, the smile on his face seemed genuine for the first time in a week.

“You don’t pay attention either, Warren Sillyka!” Luke laughed, sticking his tongue out at Warren.

“Did you see that?” Warren raised an eyebrow at you, pointing indignantly at the boy. “The kid just gave me tongue!” And without thinking twice, he returned the gesture.

"Hey!" Luke protested, grimacing and pulling the corners of his mouth with his fingers.

"Now, you little criminal..." Warren narrowed his eyes before standing up, his hands ready to attack with tickles.

"No, stop! Stop!" Luke squirmed, laughing as he tried to escape. Warren, however, was faster, grabbing him easily and lifting him in his arms, swinging him from side to side.

"Serious infraction, young man!" Warren mocked, holding Luke tightly. "You have the right to remain silent! Hands where I can see them!"

"Never!" Luke challenged, laughing loudly, clearly enjoying the joke. "I will not give in to you, Sillyka."

"Oh, then let's go again." Warren took a deep breath and threw the boy slightly in the air before catching him again, eliciting more laughter. "What now? I’ll only let you go with an apology!’

You watched them, the scene unfolding before your eyes like something you never imagined you would see. Your son laughing freely, sharing such pure happiness with someone other than you. Warren holding him in his arms felt... right. Like this was where Luke was always supposed to be.

The laughter escaped your lips before you could stop it. And when Warren and Luke looked at you, your laughter turned into something else—louder, looser, more genuine. Your eyes grew teary, but not just from laughter. The emotions inside you bubbled up in a way they didn’t know how to express, that you had kept locked away under lock and key deep in your heart for many, many years.

"No... don't look at me." You tried to contain your laughter, quickly wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. "Keep going..."

"Mommy?" Luke frowned, his joy turning to instant concern.

Warren noticed the same and quickly put the boy down before approaching you.

"Mommy, are you okay?"

You took a deep breath, blinking a few times to hold back the tears. "Yes, my baby... I am." You smiled, even though your voice shook a little. "I'm just happy." It was true. Partially, at least. "Can you go to the storage room and get me a tissue?"

Luke hesitated, still suspicious, but nodded. "Yeah." And then he left, looking back one last time before disappearing down the hallway.

The moment the door closed, the barrier you were trying to hold collapsed. A sob escaped your throat, followed by an uncontrolled sob.

"I'm sorry." You buried your face in your hands, unable to stop the wave of emotion.

Warren's heart clenched, and before you knew it, he was kneeling in front of you, his arms wrapped around your shoulders in a firm embrace.

He didn't say anything. He just stood there.

Your face buried in his neck, your hands clutching the fabric of his uniform, feeling the heat of his body as you cried without reserve.

“I'm here. Shh..." Warren murmured against your hair, stroking your back in slow circles. "I'm here."

"I'm soaking your clothes…”

"Fuck it. I'll wash them when I get home."

He slid his fingers through your hair, brushing his lips gently against your temple, a silent gesture of comfort. Your breathing began to calm, still shaky, but less suffocating. You sniffed and pulled away slightly, staring at his face so close to yours. The way he looked at you... calm, steady. Like a beacon in the middle of your storm, guiding you back.

"I forget how incredibly perceptive he is." Your voice still cracked. "He always knows when I'm not okay. I can't hide anything from him."

Warren smiled weakly, running his hand over your wet face, brushing away the remnants of your tears with his thumb.

"You don't have to hide it from me either." He said softly, then leaned down, still on his knees, to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Don't hide anything from me."

The door swung open.

"Here, Mom! I got it." Luke came running back, holding the box of tissues. "Sorry I took so long. It was really highI had to grab a chair to get up. But I didn't drop anything."

You let out a shaky laugh, accepting the tissues and opening your arms to him. Luke fit into the hug without hesitation. You looked at Warren over your son's head, his gaze full of gratitude.

"Well... I guess I'll be going now." Warren mumbled, standing up slowly.

"Where to?" You asked, grabbing a tissue and blowing your nose. "Leaving already?"

"To the cashier. It's my turn." He smiled weakly, watching Luke grab another tissue for you. "Take care of your mom, okay?"

"I'll do it." Luke nodded with the seriousness of someone who takes the mission seriously. He held the trash can for you to dispose of the tissues. "It'll be okay, Mommy."

You smiled, tightening your arms around your son. "I know it will, my baby. Thank you.

" Warren took slow steps towards the door, almost hesitantly. You watched him go, feeling a tightness in your chest as you watched him walk away.

"See you later." He paused for a brief second, turning just enough to look you in the eyes.

"See you..."

…

Warren turned the "Closed" sign on the door, taking one last look at the street before returning to the cash register and writing down the day's records. You always dropped Luke off before five, so you'd be back soon. He wanted to get everything done early to make his job easier.

After reviewing the checklist, he went to his office and left the paper on his desk. When he returned to the cash register, he heard the door open and looked up in time to see you come in. You walked over to him with a small smile on your lips.

"You look happy." He commented, resting his hands on the counter.

"I just found the perfect dress for Daniel's wedding." You said, leaning a little on the counter.

"When is it?"

"Tomorrow, Saturday."

You walked around the counter, stopping next to him. "Do you have an outfit yet?"

"I have that damn thing I wore on my first day here. Will that fit?" Warren asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and crossing his arms.

"It'll do. It's perfect." You replied, placing your hands on your hips. "I can't wait to show you."

"The dress?" He raised an eyebrow, and you nodded. "I want to see it too. What color is it? No, wait... Isn't that bad luck?"

"What?"

"To know what the woman will wear on her wedding day." He explained, confused. You let out a laugh.

"No, Warren." He blinked, waiting for the explanation. "That's only for the bride. You can know."

"Oh... sorry. I've never been to a wedding before." He confessed, relaxing his arms. "Are you excited?"

"Nervous." You admitted, leaning against the counter. "I don't know how I'm going to react."

"I'll be there." Warren comforted. "Do I have permission to punch him if he messes up with Luke?"

"Luke isn't going. It's at night. It starts at eight, but these things always take a while. I don't want him to stay up until the early hours of the morning."

"So it's just going to be the two of us?"

The question came with a subtle but noticeable tone of curiosity.

"Yes." You nodded, feeling an unexpected nervousness grow in your chest.

"Do you want me to pick you up?" He asked, and there was something else in his voice—a hint of expectation.

"Yes, it's okay. I was just going to drop Luke off at his friend's house and come back to get ready."

"Deal. I'll stop by at seven-thirty?"

"Seven-thirty is fine." You nodded, crossing your arms. He held your gaze for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, but he just smiled sideways.

"Shall we go out? It's closing time, and I don't want anyone knocking here." You changed the subject, walking to the door.

"Good idea." Warren grabbed his keys and followed you out, locking the store behind you.

Warren scanned the street, frowning slightly when he noticed one of the streetlights flickering, casting irregular shadows across the sidewalk. The silence of the night seemed to drag on with the cold wind.

"So... is it okay to walk home in this darkness?"

"Yeah, I always walk back after work." You answered matter-of-factly, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

He let out a short sigh, pulling the iron to cover the store window. "This isn't good."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as he locked the door. "Since when did walking two streets over become a problem?"

"Since always. Anyone can run into the wrong person." He turned to you, glaring firmly.

"No problem. If anything happens, I'll scream and run." You joked, shrugging.

Warren chuckled and shook his head before approaching. With his hands firmly on his waist, he tilted his face, his eyes assessing you up and down.

“Come on. I’ll take you.” You hesitated for a moment, but ended up nodding and starting to walk. “Hey, what are you doing?”

“Going home?” You pointed to the end of the street.

“No. Get in the car.” He patted the hood of the vehicle twice with a half smile.

“It’s only two streets.”

“And I don’t know who’s coming around the corner. Do you know?”

“You’re so worried.”

“Baby, after you go to jail, even your neighbors are suspicious.” He joked, unlocking the doors. “Maybe you have your own criminal record and I’m here all by myself thinking I’m safe and sound.”

You smiled, getting in the car. “And what would my crime be?”

Warren started the engine and pulled out of the space, his eyes narrowing as if he was evaluating the response.

“Murder, for sure. In cold blood, plain daylight.” He teased, turning the steering wheel to enter the avenue. “Maybe poisoning.”

“And why?”

He gave you a quick glance before turning his attention back to the road.

“Because you have this innocent woman look, all pretty, cute eyes who make men fall in love at first sight… the perfect stereotype.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile. “When I least expect it, I’ll wake up in an ice bath.”

You gave a short laugh and lightly pushed his shoulder. “How awful, Warren. I’d never kill you.”

“I don’t know… what if one day I make you angry?”

He turned onto your street and parked in front of your house. The engine purred softly before being turned off. Silence filled the car.

“Then I don’t know…” you teased, biting your lip as you pretended to think.

Warren chuckled softly and shook his head. “See? That’s what I’m talking about.”

“See you tomorrow.” You said, unbuckling your seatbelt.

But before you could reach for the door handle, you hesitated.

“Warren.”

He turned to face you, leaning in slightly. “Yeah?” His voice was lower, as if he already knew what was coming.

You hesitated for a second, your gaze locked on his lips. Your heart raced as your bodies leaned almost instinctively toward each other. Your hot breath mingled in the small space between you. But at the last moment, you pulled back, looking away.

“Nothing…”

“Fuck, stop saying it’s nothing.” Warren grumbled, letting out a short sigh before unbuckling his belt and cupping your face with his warm hands, pulling you into an unexpected kiss.

The touch was intense, a mix of urgency and pent-up desire. Your fingers tightened the fabric of his jacket, pulling him closer, opening your mouth for more of what you craved so much.

When you pulled away, a mischievous smile played on his lips. You smiled, still feeling his breath against your skin, your mouth damp from the trace of what had happened.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, trying to pull away, but he pulled you back, deepening the kiss without hesitation.

This time, you moaned against his lips and released his belt, seeking more proximity. Warren slid his hand under your shirt, pulling your waist closer and feeling the soft skin against his touch. His other hand went to the back of your neck, his fingers intertwining in your hair as the kiss grew more intense.

Time seemed to have stopped. You turned your body so that he had more access, your hand touching his face, the hairs of his growing beard prickling your skin, brushing against your chin. It stung, but it felt so damn good. When air became a necessity, you pulled away with a silly smile, your eyes shining under the dim light of the streetlamp.

“You’re very welcome.” Warren murmured, his eyes fixed on your mouth, his fingers lightly brushing your skin as if he still didn’t want to let go.

You smiled and looked away, opening the door.

“See you tomorrow, Warren.”

“Why?”

“I’m in front of my house.” You laughed softly.

Before you could leave, he pulled your hand and stole one last kiss.

“Just one more.” He murmured against your lips, sealing them once more. You smiled against his mouth before finally leaving.

Warren waited until you got in and closed the door to start the car. He licked his lips, capturing your trail. He frowned, smelling a strange smell in the air. Looking around, he decided to look at his pants and...

“Shit, Warren. What’s wrong with you?” He groaned in disgust, seeing his own situation. His jeans were darker, damp, soft. “I can’t believe this. One kiss! One kiss! I’m so fucked up. That’s the ending.”

Disgusted, he just decided to go home as soon as possible to resolve the outcome of the little moment between you. Even though he was uncomfortable with the sticky feeling between his legs, the satisfied smile didn’t leave his face.

And it didn’t leave throughout the entire night.

#warren lipka x y/n #warren lipka x you #warren lipka x reader #warren lipka #imagine #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #evan peters #evan peters fandom #evan peters x reader #evan peters x you #evan peters x y/n #american animals

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strawnarrries · 11 months ago

Note

Can you please please do some kind of smut with Niall body worship. He would be single in this scenario. And maybe it's after a show and one of the venue workers does not care for him for whatever reason, but she ends up alone with him, and he's all sweaty in his tank top, and he seduces her and gets her to feel all his arms and then his chest. And then he has her take his clothes off and he's super patronizing and condescending, and then he has her suck him off, and he's laughing because she can't take it all. AHHHHH!!!

"Who is performing tonight? Why is everybody freaking out?" you asked your coworker as you helped set up the buffet for the musician and their team arriving soon.

You worked as a runner backstage during music concerts for the Bridgestone Arena in Nashville, TN. It wasn't the best-paying job but you liked it. Nights usually go pretty smoothly but for some reason, the air was tense tonight. Everybody was frantic and your managers were extra particular about everything being perfect. You felt like you were constantly being pulled in every direction.

"Y/N, you don't know? It's Niall freaking Horan! He's literally gonna be here in like an hour!" she replied excitedly.

"Oh," you replied, not impressed.

"You don't like Niall Horan?"

"Eh, I've never really liked him. I've heard he's super cocky and kind of an asshole."

"Oh my gosh, don't even say that! I never fangirl over artists but I'm so excited about tonight. He's literally so hot!"

"I guess," you replied with a shrug.

"There's a rumor Noah Kahan is making a guest appearance too."

"Who?"

"Y/N!" she scolded and you giggled before she added, "For someone who works backstage at concerts, you'd think you'd be more into music."

Your workload tonight picked up even more once Niall and his team arrived. You were assigned to work with his team to help set everything up, make sure sound production was working, as well as doing little things to make sure everything was running smoothly.

Niall was actually quite pleasant to be around. Although you could definitely tell he had his cocky side, he was friendly and had a great sense of humor. The concert itself was magnificent. With all the shows you've worked for, this crowd was one of the loudest you have ever witnessed. They adored him and you now understood why. He was insanely attractive and so talented. You hadn't ever noticed until tonight.

It was after the show and everybody had started the cleanup process. You were instructed to go to Niall's room and double-check that he was okay and to get him anything he needed. You knocked on the door, nervously awaiting his response.

"Come in," he yelled.

Opening the door, you walked through and was met face to face with him. A man has never looked so good packing up his belongings after doing a show. He had taken off his leather vest and was just wearing his jeans and his black tank top. He was still sweaty from the show, slightly breathless. His biceps looked huge, glittering with sweat and you couldn't help but stare a little bit, wanting so badly to feel those muscles.

"Hey, I was told to come check on you and see if you need anything from us."

"Uh, I think I'm okay, thanks." His accent was so thick, it made your thighs involuntarily clench together.

"Okay, let me know if you need anything then," you replied, getting ready to walk back out the door before he stopped you.

"Wait," he called.

"What?"

"C'mere, I wanna talk to you."

"You wanna talk to me?" you asked, slightly shocked by his words.

"Yeah, close the door."

You closed the door behind you, taking a couple steps closer to him. Butterflies were swarming violently in your stomach, nervous that you were alone with Niall and even more nervous that he wanted to be alone with you.

"Did you like the show?" he asked, sitting down on a stool near the counter in his room. He crossed his arms over his chest, and you couldn't help but let your eyes flick down to his biceps.

"I did actually. You're really talented," you complimented.

"Did you notice me watching you?" he added.

"You were watching me?" you asked surprisingly.

"Yeah. I know you were working but I could see how badly you wanted to dance, to sway those pretty little hips to my songs."

"O-oh," you replied, feeling embarrassed.

"What's your favorite song of mine?" he asked.

"Not sure. I've never really listened to your music."

"Ouch, love," he feigned being hurt, placing a hand over his heart, "Why not?

You giggled softly at his reaction, "I don't know, I've always thought you were a little cocky."

"Ouch again!

"Well, now that I've met you I understand why," you explained.

"Oh really? Elaborate for me."

"Well, you're very attractive and a great performer. Plus if I was a guy and had all those girls screaming for me, I'd be the same way."

You felt your eyes continuing to stray from his and land on his arms. His biceps were flexing with each movement of his arm, the veins on his forearm peeking out and causing your mouth to water.

"Oh you think I'm attractive," he smirked.

"Stop, that's not the point of what I was saying," you giggled shyly.

"If it makes you feel better, I can tell you think I'm attractive."

"What? How?"

"Well for one thing, you haven't stopped staring at my arms this entire conversation," he grinned.

"O-oh, no, I-I didn't," your heart fell into your stomach; you were completely shocked and embarrassed you got caught ogling.

"You wanna feel them?" he asked, throwing you for a complete other loop.

"I-I don't-." You didn't know what to do. Of course, you wanted to feel them. But this was Niall Horan and you were on the clock. You felt like you were dreaming honestly.

"Come on, come feel them," he smirked, cocking his head.

This was never something you ever imagined you'd be doing, especially on the clock at work, but you soon found yourself moving towards him, your palms wrapping around his thick bicep. His skin was warm to the touch and his muscles were strong as you squeezed them. The next thing you knew, your hands mindlessly traveled towards his torso, his damp tank top clinging to his abs and outlining them perfectly for you. You traced them, fingers soon traveling down to the hem of his top and teasing it, wanting to badly to feel what was underneath.

Your dreams came true when you heard the words, "take it off."

But you didn't believe it. There's no way he just told you to take his shirt off, "W-what?"

"Go on, take off my tank top."

You didn't respond, just slowly slipped your hands under his top and pulled it up, over his head and oh my gosh it was so much better than you could have imagined. His chest was glistening with sweat, hair lining every inch, making him look so sexy and manly. And you didn't even want to get started on his muscles. His pecs and abs were so clearly defined, that it was obvious that this man spent a lot of time in the gym. You have never felt so turned on so quickly.

You ran your hand over his damp skin. You could feel every ridge of his muscles, the coarse chest hair slightly rough against your soft skin. You watched in awe as your hands explored his body, your mouth watering at the sight.

"Close that mouth, pretty girl, you'll catch flies."

You hadn't even noticed that your mouth had fallen open. Your cheeks immediately reddened in embarrassment as your jaw closed and he chuckled at you, "You like what you see?"

"Mhm," you hummed, nodding your head.

Lifting his hand, he used his curled index finger to lift your chin up to look at him. You stared into his gorgeous blue eyes that were covered by lust. You traced every inch of his face with your eyes, landing on his lips looking so soft and kissable. It was taking everything in your power not to kiss him.

"I can tell you wanna kiss me."

Were you being that obvious?

You didn't even reply this time, just in complete awe of the man standing in front of you. He was so cocky but ugh he had every right to be.

"Go on. Kiss me."

You smirked softly, not giving in just yet.

"You better kiss me first because, in a couple seconds, I'm not gonna be able to resist not kissing you."

"Maybe I want you to kiss me first," you challenged.

His lips immediately covered yours and oh my gosh you could not believe you were kissing Niall Horan. His lips were so soft and fuck, he was such a good kisser. You parted your lips and allowed him to lick into you, tasting you and asserting his dominance over you. You grabbed onto his waist, holding him to your chest as your lips moved in sync with his. The kisses were hot, deep, passionate, sexy, all of the above. You melted against him, feeling your abdomen clench and your panties dampen as he angled his head, kissing you deeper.

"Fuck," he mumbled against your lips.

You continued to kiss, his hands beginning to roam your entire body and you let him. He reached down and cupped both of your ass cheeks in his large palms, squeezing roughly. You whimpered slightly against his lips, chills running up your spine as he nipped softly on your lower lip.

"Get on your knees," he demanded, "Wanna feel those sexy lips wrapped around my cock."

You have never been on your knees so fast for a guy before. Your fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, trying to undo it so you could free him from his pants. You were frenzied and nervous and excited, so much that you could not get it unbuckled for the life of you.

Niall began laughing, "I got you so flustered that you can't even do a simple task like unbuckle my belt. Do I make you that nervous?"

You didn't reply, your hands getting even shakier as the seconds went by.

"Come on, sweet girl, let me help you." he hummed, reaching down and messing with his belt, easily unbuckling it and pulling it out of the loops in his jeans.

"See how easy that was?" he commented and you were just glad you could finally get your hands on what you've wanted this whole time.

Unzipping his pants, you wasted no time and pulled them down his legs, letting his pants and briefs pool at his feet. His hard member was revealed to you and oh my gosh it was so much bigger than you had ever expected.

He laughed at you as you grabbed onto his member; he was so thick you just barely were able to wrap your entire palm around him, "You look scared."

"No, I just wasn't expecting you to be so big," you hummed, hating yourself for inflating his ego even more than it already was.

He was so hard. His red, swollen tip was peaking out from under his foreskin, precum oozing from his slit, practically screaming at you to do something. You began to pump him, squeezing slightly once you got to the tip, running your thumb over it and using his precum as a lubricant as you mentally prepared yourself for what was to come.

"Stop stalling. Go on and wrap those pretty little lips around my big cock."

Obeying him, you wasted no more time and took him in until he hit the back of your throat. You barely had half of him in your mouth before you began gagging, eyes watering in response.

You heard him rumble with laughter, amusement written all over his face, "Can't take it all, huh?"

"Fucking hell," you muttered mostly to yourself as you came off of him, a string of spit following you.

He smirked at your response as you took a deep breath before taking him in your mouth again. He gathered all your hair in his palms, pulling it up into a ponytail to hold it out of your face. You innocently looked up at him through your lashes, watching as his body reacted to your warm mouth wrapped around his most sensitive area. You bobbed your head up and down, your palm wrapped around what you couldn't fit in your mouth.

He pressed both hands against the side of your head and added pressure to stop your movements. Relaxing your throat, you let him take control, thrusting his hips so his member slid in and out of your warm mouth. His tip hit the back of your throat and you gagged with each thrust. His balls slapped against the underside of your chin and he grunted with each thrust of his hips.

"Fuck, this is so fucking sexy. Look at you actually taking it all," he grunted.

Tears began to slowly slide down your cheeks the more you gagged on him. You looked up at him through blurry eyes and felt your panties dampen at the sight above you. He was so sexy. A thicker layer of sweat was glittering across his skin, enhancing the look of his muscles. Chest hair was sprinkled throughout his torso, his happy trail leading down to the patch of hair tickling your nose every time he bottomed out. His face was scrunched in pleasure, eyes crinkled and mouth ajar as he watched in awe as his member was soaked in your saliva, your throat constricting around him and bringing him closer to the edge by the second.

His thrusts began to get sloppy and you could tell he was close to finishing, his words soon confirming your belief, "Jesus christ, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard. Gonna swallow it all? Like the good girl you are?"

You hummed in response, preparing yourself for his load. It was only seconds later when he left his balls contracting and his orgasm ripping throughout his entire body. He grunted in pleasure as his load shot down your throat, warming your insides. Pulling out, he stroked himself a couple times to finish off his orgasm, tugging the last spurts of his load onto your tongue. Once he had come down from his high, he let out a heavy breath and watched as you swallowed every last drop of him.

"Jesus," he breathed, running a hand through his sweaty hair, "fuck, I think that was one of the best blowjobs I've ever had."

Your confidence rose as you stood on your feet in front of him, smirking at him, "Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," he hummed as he placed his hands on your hips, eyes trailing down to your lips, "you're really sexy."

"So are you," you grinned, letting his lips engulf yours before pushing him off, "As much as I wanna continue this, I am still on the clock."

He giggled at your statement before bending down and pulling his pants back up, "Give me your number and maybe we can meet up next time I'm in town."

You smiled, "Okay."

What the hell just happened?

#niall horan #niall horan one shot #niall horan smut #niall horan x reader #one direction #one direction smut #one direction one shot #my writing #smut #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #one direction fanfic #one direction fanfiction #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fanfiction

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chocoloom · 5 months ago

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Adding onto my last post, Imma make an Eden’s Garden prediction on who I think may survive or die, or at least seems to be more likely to die to ME.

Spoilers Ahead for Project Eden’s Garden btw! If you haven’t played it, please do, it’s FREE RN

If you’re still here, here we go!

Damon Maitsu - Survives (Protagonist clause, he’s gonna be hella traumatized though). Dude still has a whole character arc to go through, he still has trust issues to get rid of.

Ingrid Grimwall - Probably Dead. Look I love this lady with my whole chest. Her passion and charm hit me like a train and as a southern woman myself, I love her accent. But. Her death would hit like a truck and that is exactly what Danganronpa thrives in doing. Especially considering her death would cause the group to lose a pillar of emotional support, and would devastate a certain little matchmaker. Speaking of which.

Toshiko Kayura - Survives. She’s gonna get some character development related to Diana or Ingrid, especially if one of them dies (looking at Ingrid specifically). Ingrid dying would fuck this girl UP, which is why I think it’s going to happen. They have been setting up these two having a mother daughter relationship early on. I don’t see this girl as a murderer, but I can see her filling a similar role to Aoi’s. Specifically how Aoi was acting during the Sakura trial, hiding evidence cause she blames other people and herself for the death of someone she cares about. I can’t see her dying though, she’s too young. That’s a baby. Then again, this isn’t the main Danganronpa world, so I could be wrong. Absolutely off topic, but I think there’s a reason she’s hiding her face. Not a bad one mind you, she strikes me as someone who would try to hide things she doesn’t like about herself in an attempt to seem more mature or lady like. Maybe she still has braces and is embarrassed about it.

Jean DeLamer - Solid fifty fifty. I straight up don’t know, I could see this going one of two ways. One, he survives to the end (in which case, awesome, he’s honestly one of my favorites in this game). Two he dies in a sacrificial manner to save the rest of the group, as they have become his new crew in a sense. In which case, I’m sad and my heart is in tatters. He gives off big Nekomaru or Gundham vibes in his role in the group. Regardless, I see him as a big source of reliability and moral support for the group going forward. I can also see him taking up more of a leadership role going forward. Maybe he helps out Diana in her attempts to unite the students.

Ulysses Wilhelm - Dead. That bit about him not being able to smell strikes me as a Chekhov’s gun that has yet to be fired. I can practically taste the metal. I could see him being either a murder victim or a murderer. Regardless of which, it will likely involve Wenona in some way, as those two have been maintaining a positive relationship. I can see them conspiring with each other, or betraying each other. Either way, dramaaaa~

Jett Dawson - Dead. 100%. I do not see his ass surviving. Sorry Jett enjoyers. The fact that we don’t know what his face looks like also feels like a Chekhov’s gun. Maybe it’s connected to Tozu and Mara, or maybe it’s connected to another student (looking at Mark). Maybe someone impersonates him, or the other way around.

Mark “Mayhem” Berskii - Dead. I could see him being a murder victim or murderer tbh. I think it may depend on what happens with Jett, as those two have been linked together, much to Mark’s initial chagrin (The shippers are gonna sob I just know it). There’s a darkness in that boy’s soul, and it specifically mentioned that Mark specializes in remixing songs and voices. I could see a scenario where he takes the recorded voices of his fellow students and uses them to create confusion, maybe make people think that a person is in a specific place when they are not, or cause confusion as to whether or not a person is alive or dead at a specific time. Maybe he kills Jett, would that be fucked up or what :D?

Desmond Hall - Fifty fifty, but I think he Survives. He’s more likely to in my head, but if he does die, he’s the murder victim. From what we know about his personality, I think he’s less likely to try and kill anybody in comparison to some of the other characters. He’s got a very low key personality, and even though his talent is the most connected to killing out of the whole cast, I actually think he is probably one of the people who is least likely to do so. Dude is a killer shot, but he’s no killer.

Wenona - Fifty fifty, leaning more towards 25-75 in favor of death. She COULD survive, but I think it’s more likely for her to die tbh. She’s been one of the people who has been the most vocal about waiting for rescue, but she’s also a billionaire. And you don’t get that much money without being willing to take advantage of, manipulate, and hurt people. She’s definitely going to be an antagonist in a future chapter, aided by Ulysses. She’s also going to have some sort of conflict with Cassidy, as they have been setting up this bad blood between the two since Cassidy’s intro. She strikes me as someone who could play a similar role to Byakuya or Celestia, especially if she finds out that help might not be coming. Or if her company is on the line. Cuz we still don’t know what the situation is like outside of the Academy. Also, murder is just as much of a girlboss move as it is an immoral one.

Eloise Taulner - Dead. I don’t know enough about her to say for sure, but I think she could be the murder victim or murderer. If it’s the latter, good for her ig. Girl slays, or I guess stabs would be more applicable.

Cassidy Amber - Survives. I think she’s more likely to survive than die. Girl is feisty, and the survivor groups usually have some upbeat and optimistic. If she dies however, she dies mid game. I could see her plotting to murder Wenona, or getting into a confrontation with her due to her status as a morally bankrupt billionaire. I don’t want her to die, I like her dynamics with a lot of the other characters, but I could see it happening.

Grace Madison - Dead. I would wager she might die within the next chapter or two. Her primary connection as a character was to Wolfgang, and he’s gone, soooo, yeah. Something is definitely up with her that’s going to get addressed next chapter regardless. For one, we still don’t know why she was so adamant about nobody going into Wolfgang’s room at the time of his death. It could be because she was just embarrassed about people discovering and questioning her about her relationship with Wolfgang, but I think there could be more to the story. There’s secrets in each students room, but we don’t know what secrets could be contained in Wolfgang’s room. But Grace might. What’s more, her behavior after Eva’s execution peaked my interest. She’s uncharacteristically silent, not saying anything, even when someone says something that would typically elicit a violent reaction from her. I think she’s conflicted about Eva now, cause Grace definitely despised Eva, but after watching her death, in all its horror? I think even she feels like it was too cruel. She might act a bit more toned down and less angry going forward. Additionally, during Diana’s speech, she doesn’t insult Diana or say anything. Wenona is the only one to really insult Diana, while the rest of the group just kinda try not to acknowledge it. Either Grace is still in shock, or maybe she was actually kinda moved by Diana’s gesture to try to honor Wolfgang’s memory? Maybe she’ll help her, who knows. Would be interesting to say the least.

Okay, these last two are really hard. Figures, they have the most interesting relationships and dynamics with Damon, our protagonist. I can see this going in a lot of different ways, and they are all interesting.

Kai Monteago - Okay, hear me out. Kai strikes me as someone with confidence issues in spite of being an influencer. He underestimates himself, and that lack of confidence combined with his cowardice leads to him wanting to leave stuff like the investigations and the trials to other people. But I also think he wants people around him. The guy craves genuine connection, and he seems to have found the beginnings of that in Damon. He latched onto him like a butterfly to a flower, and I can’t see him letting go anytime soon.

Because of that, I see Kai filling the role that people initially thought Eva was going to fill. Kai will be Damon’s Assistant character, his support. The role of an influencer is one that involves the manipulation of people, be it to follow them on instagram, to buy their products, or simply to listen to them. Damon can argue and debate all day, and he’s good at it, but Kai I think will aid in getting people to listen to his points, and could even manipulate people to uncover lies or get them to confess. This will increase his confidence in his own abilities as a result. Kai is not as dumb as he seems to think he is, and I think he’ll learn that in the arcs going forward. He may also kiss Damon on the mouth, but only time will tell. I hope they do tbh.

Because of this, Kai is mostly safe. If he dies, he dies late game and it mentally destroys Damon, or helps further his character development. Otherwise he survives until the end. And honestly, I think there’s a pretty good chance that the latter option will occur. Regardless, Kai is going to play a crucial role in Damon’s arc. I could see him being one of the catalysts for Damon actually trusting people in this game, after his trust was so broken up by Eva’s murder plot.

Diana Venicia - First of all, she is not gonna be a murderer. Girly was framed last trial, they aren’t gonna pull that shit twice. Plus it was established that she couldn’t bring herself to pull the trigger on Wolfgang, even though her life was actively in danger and he ATTACKED her. If, IF, she becomes a blackened, it is purely by accident or she didn’t intend to kill (maybe smth similar to Chiaki where her actions led to the murder unintentionally, but she never intended to kill). Even then, I think the chances of that situation happening are veryyy low.

I think she is going to serve as a foil to Damon in the trials to come, kinda like an antagonist. As an antagonist isn’t someone who is necessarily evil. They either serve as foils to the protagonist or prevent them from reaching their goals. She won’t obstruct or prevent Damon from reaching his goals, as they both want to go home and get out of the killing game. Rather, she’ll be an antagonist in the moral or metaphorical sense, and I think she’ll be more vocal and try to take a leader position in an attempt to emulate Wolfgang. Her trusting and open nature clashes with Damon’s closed off and suspicious demeanor, and that’s going to play a role in the trials going forward. I can also see her finding allies in her attempting to unite the students in Toshiko, Jean, and possibly Jett, Cassidy, and maybe Grace.

I’ve seen some people saying she will die come Chapter 2. While I see the reasoning behind that. I don’t think that will be the case. If she dies, it’ll be late into the game, maybe come Trial 4 or 5. I could also see her surviving, but it’s too soon to tell. She either dies late game or survives the whole thing, like Kai. That’s my take anyway. Still, the poor bubblegum girl. The horrors are just beginning for her I think.

Wolfgang and Eva: lol they dead as hell. Rigor mortis is already setting in. They’re extra crispy.

In Summary:

Potential Survivors (most to least likely in my head) - Damon, Kai, Diana, Toshiko, Desmond, Cassidy, Jean

As for who may be next to die in chapter two, my money’s on Grace, Ulysses, or Eloise.

#project edens garden #project eden's garden #damon maitsu #kai monteago #diana venicia #the trio of all time

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vecnuthy · 2 years ago

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Steddie first kiss scenario

Accident: mistaken identity due to Steve being absolutely hammered | wc 893 |

Two hours into a Harrington house party, Eddie was getting near the end of his inventory and his social battery. The cup of punch-colored alcohol he'd been nursing had kept him nice and fuzzy for a while, but with the end in sight, he dumped the rest down the kitchen sink, tossed the cup in the trash, then turned, opting to walk out the back yard rather than navigate through the packed house.

But his progress was stopped in an empty hall by the man of the house himself, Steve Harrington.

A very drunk Steve Harrington, at that, considering the extra droop of his pretty eyes, lazy smile, overly loose movements, and the way he crashed into Eddie, pinning him against a small table, slurring loudly, "Nance! There'y'are."

He looked and smelled absolutely sloshed as he swayed further into Eddie's space.

"Steve, wha-"

"Been loogin for y' everywhere."

Before Eddie could even do anything, Steve's hands were buried in his curls and pulling him in until their lips met and - wow, that was definitely Steve Harrington's rum-soaked tongue in his mouth, making his stomach swoop, the heat from Steve's flushed face igniting a fire that tore across Eddie's skin, burning faster with every movement of Steve's lips. Lips that were soft, unlike the fingers curling, pulling Eddie's roots enough to make Eddie's hips press into Steve's, make him want to moa-

"You taste different. Like smoke and.....and peaches, hv'you been smoking?!" He frowned and shook his head. "S'not good for you."

He paused in thought as Eddie's heart hammered in his chest, mouth and scalp tingling from Steve's onslaught. His brain refused to make sense of anything happening. Were he not half propped up by the table against the wall and Steve's hold, Eddie would probably be on the floor.

"Wanna smoke now, achlly," Steve said as he put enough space between them to pat at his pockets before realizing with a laugh, "Oh wai', you've got 'em!"

He started patting at the pockets of a very shell-shocked Eddie as he continued to ramble, "And peashes. Where'd you ge' peashes? Y'llergic to the fuzz. You 'idn't eat that, d'you?"

Steve patted a little too far over the front of his jeans, making Eddie, honestly on the verge of blacking out, yelp. Steve giggled out, "Ticklish," then added, "You're taller," before pouting, "Ugh, your pockets 'r so full. When d'you put jeans on?" Steve let out a frustrated whine before huffing, "God, I can't find'em, just - "

Steve paused then smiled like he remembered the secret of life, and muttered, "You've got the smoke."

And just like that, Eddie's face was smooshed between Steve's hands, breath barely ghosting over Eddie's lips before he breathed Eddie in, eyes closed, probably imagining nicotine flooding his system.

Eddie would make a run for it if he were able to move, but he couldn't will his body to do anything but buzz from shock yet sing for Steve's touch.

Steve opened his eyes, and he took a long, glazed-over look at Eddie's face, settling on his lips.

"You kind of look different. Your lips....they're bigger." His eyes closed slowly then grew comically large. "D'you eat the fuzz, Nance?!" Steve panicked, then looked Eddie in the eyes again, and took a shuddering breath. "Your eyes, though, they....th' look, look kinda brown like -" Steve's face softened "- like his."

"Steve?"

To Eddie's immense horror, a very confused Barbara Holland had appeared behind Steve.

"Barrrb! Hey, guess what? Nance's been smoking!" he giggled.

"What?" Barb's eyes flicked back and forth between a very panicked, frozen Eddie.

"She tastes like smoke! Nancy Wheeler, smoking!" He cackled gleefully, but made it known that he was proud of her by turning back to Eddie and slurring, "You're so cool, 's like it's Halloween. Dressed up like Munson? Y' look so cool, baby." And he swooped in and kissed Eddie one more time.

"Okay, Steve!" Barb shrieked and pulled him away. "Let's get you some water!" She shot Eddie a wide-eyed questioning look and steered a stumbling Steve toward the kitchen.

"He's so wasted, he thought I was Nancy!" Eddie rushed out quietly, which made Barb snort.

Eddie's face burned, numb to everything except where Steve had touched him. Which was kind of everywhere, actually, so he felt on fire. "And it happened before I could even- I didn't know what to d-"

"Eddie!" She cut off his rambling, then sighed. "Don't worry, you're fine. You're fine. Understand?" She was waiting for a response.

Eddie, head still swimming, nodded cautiously.

"Good," she said, letting some of her tension melt away, which Eddie tried to copy. "Doubt he'll remember any of it, anyway. I know I don't want to."

Eddie winced at that.

"No, it's not you, it's just-" she huffed then shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Drive safe, Eddie."

And just like that, she was gone.

Eddie followed suit with Steve's voice echoing in his head, an overlapping manic cacophony of

"Your lips....they're bigger."

"Your eyes, though, they....th' look, look kinda brown like...like his."

"Dressed up like Munson? Y' look so cool, baby."

Two kisses because Steve thought Eddie was his girl.

And her best friend had seen the second.

Actual fucking kisses because Steve thought he was his.

Thought Eddie was his.

Said he tasted like smoke and peaches.

Eddie drove home in a daze.

#eddie: just gonna head out #steve: my girlfriend! who's suddenly taller! with brown eyes! and in jeans with /full pockets/! look SO good #steve: like eddie #eddie: 👁👄👁 (404 not found)#barb wasn't a fan of steve's #barb goes missing from the harrington house two weeks later #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #cw: alcohol

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onlyjaeyun · 2 years ago

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𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 – 𝟏𝟓

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬

↬ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔, 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐉𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲!��𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓.𝟒𝐤

↬ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐥'𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐄𝐎.

With a soft sigh, you close the chat with your closest friends, the soft jazz music finally making its way to your ears as you meet the gaze of your uber driver through his rear view mirror. A gentle expression grazes his eyes, as if he could sense your current state of struggle and somehow attempted to ease those thoughts and doubts.

But he doesn't actually know that you're on your way to your boss's penthouse apartment to bring him soup in hopes of winning his heart over or at least receive a single word of affirmation and praise from him.

And he actually can't read your mind or tell just how mean your brain's gotten these past few minutes, but all you do is smile back at him, wordlessly letting him know just how much you appreciate his concern.

You don't want to let your friends' words get to you, yet with every second you can't help but lose yourself in the worst case scenarios and actualy fear consume your body. The mere thought of your boss scolding you for doing something so unprofessional and inappropriate has an ice cold shiver find its way down your spine but before you get the chance to actually change your mind, the car comes to a halt.

Maybe it's the fact you grew up in a rather poor part of your hometown or maybe it's because you tend to forget just how rich Park Jongseong is, but either way you find yourself standing in front of his huge apartment building, wondering how one can actually afford living there.

Your eyes roam every little detail of it, only for your heart to skip a beat as soon as you realise that you simply can't enter the building without Jongseong letting you in first.

For a moment, you actually, genuinely consider going home and just throwing away every single part of your little plan, but the tiny little voice in the back of your head is loud enough to convince you to just pull through with it.

That's how you find yourself at the reception of Park Jongseong's apartment complex, something you believed to be a made up concept of rich people in movies and dramas, casually telling the woman in front of you who you've come for.

"Mr. Park Junior didn't tell me about any guests for tonight", the young lady says, her voice slightly condescending and as her eyes roam your body, you can't help but regret your choice of outfit. Maybe you should have dressed up a little more formally than your jeans-hoodie combination but at the end of the day you're pretty sure she would have judged you either way.

"He doesn't know about my visit", you say and try your best to hide how much her attitude intimidates you, "could you maybe tell him that Y/N's here to drop off something?"

"We don't just call Mr. Park Junior for random night time visits", yet again, the brunette makes sure to belittle you with just her tone and all you can do is sigh softly in response.

"I'll call him then." You don't even look at her as you turn around and pull your phone out, your bottom lip firmly tugged between your teeth as you try your best to stay calm.

Dialing your boss's number has never been easy ever since you've started working for him, yet this time you can actually feel your heart thrumming in your throat and the blood rushing in your ears as it rings.

It doesn't take longer than a few seconds for Jongseong to pick up your call; your number the only one besides his boys and his mother he's put on the list of exceptions when he's got his phone on 'do not disturb'.

He knows it's wrong but using the excuse of your new position as his personal assistant easily overshadows his actual intentions. Is he a bad boss because he wants to be available for you all the time? Or is it considered inappropriate? Either way, Jay simply can't get himself to care enough to overthink it.

After taking complete advantage of his first day off in months, Jay actually feels energetic enough to sit himself up, casually ignoring just how excited and nervous he is about the fact that you're calling him. He can't help but wonder if you've missed him, only to mentally slap himself for even allowing those thoughts to enter his head.

He's your boss, why the fuck would you miss him?

"Hello?" The soft sound of your pretty voice takes him aback and for a moment he actually feels dizzy again, yet quickly regains his composure.

"Yes, Y/N, how can I help you?" As he speaks, Jongseong genuinely hopes you can't hear the excitement wavering in his tone, too afraid you'd misinterpret his reaction to you.

"Misinterpret".

"I really hope this isn't inappropriate, Sir but I'm – uhm – in the lobby of your apartment building because I wanted to drop off some of the soup I made for you." The words just leave your mouth, too fast for your brain to get the chance to overthink any of them and you actually catch yourself holding your breath as you wait for his reaction.

After a whole beat of silence, Jay finally manages to somehow form a response.

"I'll call the receptionist", is all he says before he hangs up and you find yourself slightly overwhelmed, not ready to face the young woman behind you.

It doesn't take longer than a a handful of minutes for you to find yourself at at the door to your boss's penthouse.

You don't really know what you expected, especially considering that he explicitly mentioned his current physical state, yet the sight of The Park Company's CEO in a pair of grew sweats and a black shirt, glasses comfortably placed on his nose, a completely bare face and messy hair was probably not the sight you had imagined.

But it quickly becomes your absolute favorite version of him.

Seeing him in such a...comfortable state feels a little surreal after only ever having seen him in his suits and daily clothes in the few weeks you've been working for him.

Jongseong, on the other side, doesn't get enough time to actually hide how much your sudden and unexpected presence flusters him as a deep blush covers the apples of his cheeks as well as his nose and ears all the way down to his neck. A single impulsive thought rushes through his head, but he does manage to stop himself from slamming the door in your face and simply accepts his current situation.

"I know you told me not to do it but I love taking care of people and this is my standard Y/N-care package, which includes beef soup, kimbap and some cookies", you explain and look at him with big eyes, trying your best to stop yourself from letting your gaze drop to his slightly exposed chest, as a tiny little black line poking out underneath his shirt on his right side catches your attention.

Jay loves the way you look at him. He's had so many woman look at him like that, yet your gaze just seems different than theirs. You don't just look at him with bedroom eyes, no. Your pretty eyes are filled with adoration and this hunger he can't put a name on.

And at first Jong struggled to understand why he enjoys your gaze until that one particular day where the two of you went into a meeting together and you were hiding behind him when all of these business men suddenly started talking to you. It's the fact that you're actively seeking his presence because you feel protected and safe with him which makes your needy eyes so different from all the others.

You actually need and want him in more ways than just sexual and Jong's afraid that's exactly what's going to make staying away from you so, so much more difficult.

"Here you go", you say after a whole minute of silence, "I hope you feel better soon, Sir. Please don't rush yourself to get back to work, Mr. Lee is taking great care of the office and all your meetings and appointments have been rescheduled to next week already."

Your words somehow manage to calm his chaotic thoughts down. Jongseong hadn't even realised how much he had been worrying about work until you mentioned it. He definitely feels better than just a few hours ago but the mere thought of getting up tomorrow morning and going through all those meetings and paper work has shivers run down his back. Knowing you've got it all under control eases his mind to the point where he actually doesn't feel guilty about staying home one more day.

"Thank you so much, Y/N", your boss replies calmly and takes the bag from you, his hand touching yours for a single second and still managing to send shivers down your spine.

"You're welcome, Sir", you whisper, a little too shy when his eyes find yours again and all you can do is smile softly at him.

"Have a good night and get–", but Jongseong doesn't give you the opportunity to finish your sentence.

"Wait–", he says quickly, subconsciously reaching for your wrist but immediately stopping himself before his skin can touch yours.

"Yes, Mr. Park? Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Your willingness to satisfy his every need is going to drive him into absolute insanity. Jongseong knows it's because you work for him, yet for some reason he can't help but feel like it's actually because you genuinely want to and not because you get paid for it.

His therapist is going to have a field day during their next session.

"You came all this way to drop these off, why don't you come in and have some coffee with me?"

He didn't mean to invite you into his apartment because he knows just how unprofessional and inappropriate it is, yet he can't even deny how badly he wants you to spend some more time with him. Especially after you've decided to keep your distance to him the past week.

"Oh", you reply softly, desperately suppressing the big smile threatning to form on your face, "sure, that's really kind of you. I hope I'm not overstepping any bound-"

"You're not, Y/N. I promise. Please, come on in."

You can't help but be visibly surprised about being interrupted by your boss for the second time within a few minutes, something he's never done before to you or basically anyone he's galked to in your presence.

But without giving it too many thoughts, you walk past him into the big hallway of his apartment, your face quickly giving away just how impressed you are and for a moment you simply feel embarrassed for being so obvious.

You wordlessly follow your boss into the living room and then the kitchen, your eyes eagerly roaming the huge spaces as if your brain couldn't comprehend the fact that this is really how some people live on the daily.

After moving out from your tiny childhood home, you thought your new two bedroom apartment was big, maybe because it was the first time in your life where you didn't have to share a room or a bed, yet seeing the way your rich boss lives, you can't say you don't feel the tiniest bit envious.

"Your apartment is very pretty, Sir", you say quietly, a little intimidated by the whole situation and if it wasn't for the physical exhaustion, Jay would have wholly appreciated your compliment.

The sight of you in his penthouse is something he's imagined way too many times in the past few weeks and he has absolutely no idea why. Just the mental image of watching you do the most basic tasks in his home instead of your own has brought him the type of comfort he's been craving so desperately all his life, and that's how he knew he fucked up.

This wasn't meant to happen. You're his secretary and personal assistant, he can't and won't ever have you. But why can't he stop imagining you as such a prominent part in his life to the point where he actually manages to get his own hopes all the way up to the sky?

"Thank you, Y/N", he replies and as soon as you look up to meet his exhausted gaze, an expression of genuine worry washes over your face and before he can even overthink it, he watches the way you approach him.

The feeling of your hand on his forehead is definitely not the next thing he expected, yet the cooling sensation your touch comes with easily overwhelms him.

"Sir, you're running a fever again", you say and only realise that your hand has found its way to his cheek when he slowly moves into your touch, a sight so sweet and gentle, your brain quickly makes sure it's forever engraved in your memory.

You don't pull away right away, but rather slowly to make sure he knows you regret your subconscious decision but also not take away the comfort it probably comes with.

"Yeah, I feel a little tired again. I think the meds have started to wear off."

Upon his confession, you basically push him to lay down on the couch again, quickly cleaning up the little mess of tissues and empty water bottles before making your way to the kitchen to reheat some of the soup.

Jongseong feels his lids growing heavier by the minute, yet he'd never miss the opportunity to watch you in his kitchen. The fact you seem to fit in perfectly makes all of his worries even worse because why the fuck did it have to be like this?

It doesn't take you longer than five minutes to come back with a bowl of hot soup and a spoon, a water bottle firmly tugged underneath your arm as you come to sit next to his head.

"I know you also told me you didn't need any meds but uhm, my grandmother swears on these and every time I catch a cold they save me from the worst. But I do understand if you don't wanna take them."

Your voice calms his heart and soul, your words barely reaching his brain as his whole attention remains on the way you sound and never once in his life did he ever think he'd want someone to talk to him forever.

"That's very kind, thank you", Jong whispers and caughs softly, his usually tanned skin slightly paler than usual and you hate the way your heart aches at the sight of it.

"I'm also making you one of my grandmother's remedy teas, I promise you'll feel better in no time."

For some reason, the fact you're so casually telling him about your family again makes him happier than it should. But does it make him a bad boss if he wants to know more about you and your upbringing? You're spending so much time with each other after all, it's the least he should want, right?

"Your grandmother sounds like a wise woman", he says softly and slowly tries his best to sit himself up, every single limb hurting like he he run against a wall with full force and as soon as he reaches for the spoon, Jongseong actually has to take a break from moving so much.

"She was", you whisper and pull your bottom lip between your teeth, unsure whether or not to offer your help, "she was my best friend and the only person in my life who took such great care of me and everyone around her. I cherish her recipes and that's how I came up with my Y/N-care package."

Jongseong attentively listens to the things you tell him, something you genuinely appreciate when it comes to him because besides your best friend, you've never had anyone listen to every word you say with such focus, especially not a man.

You carefully watch the way he nods, his pretty lips pushed into a soft pout, big hands in his lap as he looks at you with tired eyes and with a soft sigh you finally give into your disgusting need to take care of him.

"May I feed you, Sir? I know I'm not being professional but–", "Please do, Y/N. I'd really appreciate it." Jong is quick to interrupt you, because if it wasn't for you initiating it, he would sit there waiting to gain enough physical strength for another twenty minutes.

He's never had anyone but his mother and sister take such sweet care of him and the fact you do it without any intentions makes this whole experience even more intimate than it's supposed to be.

As you reach for the spoon, Jay thinks of all the things he'd do for you if you let him, only for his conscience to slap him across the face because no matter what, at the end of the day you two would never work out. Not only because you're his employee and he's your boss but because he'd never forgive himself for pulling you into a life you couldn't handle. You're too soft, too gentle, your heart is too kind for the world he lives in. A world full of faux happiness and sincerity, where nothing is real, no smiles and laughter, no words and promises, no friendships and marriages. A world so dark, it'd kill the light in your soul within a few weeks, something Jongseong could never, ever forgive himself.

"Say 'ah'", you chuckle and lift the full spoon to his lips, your pretty lips stretched into a gentle smile and without hesitation, Jay bends a little over to take it into his mouth. The warmth as well as the comforting taste of the soup easily has his whole body slowly waking up.

"It's delicious", Jay says with raised brows, his eyes finding yours and the way his compliment so obviously flusters you manages to play with his thoughts and feelings yet again, "you're a great cook, Y/N."

You hate how much his words mean to you, but besides two words of appreciation, you can't get yourself to say anything else. For some reason this feels way more intimate than you expected but with each spoon, the urge to play with his hair and caress his back becomes more and more overwhelming.

All you want for him is to feel good and be okay, something you want for everyone in your life, so why do you want to do everything in your power to make it happen.

Your boss is a rich bachelor in his late twenties, who not only grew up with old money but probably won't ever know what it feels like to wonder if there'll be any food left for him and his siblings to eat the next day, but you still want to somehow be involved in his well-being.

"Tell me more about your grandmother", Jay suddenly asks and isn't really sure why he decided to bring things back to your family, but he simply can't hold back with his curiosity, especially after those few family issues you've mentioned to him.

He also doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable, but physically doesn't have enough energy to lead the conversation. On top of it all he's always been a better listener than a talker, especially when it comes to the people he cares about.

"Are you sure you wanna hear that? She's the only topic I can talk about for hours", you chuckle shyly and lift the spoon up to his face yet again, only for Jay to nod softly.

Upon his approval, you tell him about what it felt like to be raised by her as the only grandchild, how she spent most of her time showing you her recipes even after working long days at the market. You feel yourself getting more and more emotional as you slowly lose yourself in the memory of the only blood family member who always cared for and about you, the only one who didn't abandon you after the things your parents did.

And Jongseong just listens. He tries to save it all to his memory, your words, the stories, your grandmother's personality from your point of view, details about your childhood, the sight of your teary eyes when you come to the point where she passed away when you were sixteen years old.

Jongseong has never had any good relations with anyone in his family besides his mother and his older sister. Mostly because his father's side of the family is exactly like him, victims and servants of capitalism who have made money and financial success their only priority in life to the point where betrayal and lying has become part of their daily routines. His mother's family had decided to abandon her as soon as they found out about her pregnancy and despite their pathetic attempts of reconciliation, Jong has never allowed her to let them back into their lives. Not after everything they put her through.

Hearing about how you lived a whole life with this one particular woman makes him want to meet her. Jong knows that you probably have your soft heart and kind soul from her, and he can't help but wonder what kind of person she was.

"She sounds wonderful", he then suddenly comments and for some reason, you know those words come from his heart and all you can do is smile at him.

"Yeah", you whisper and gulp harshly when the tears suddenly prick at the corners of your eyes, "I miss her a lot."

Jay lets out a soft sigh of acknowledgment before he does something he knows he's going to regret but at this point he's jusg mentally tired of fighting his urges all the time.

With a gentle smile he reaches for your chin and lifts your head up to have you meet his gaze, his sudden touch eliciting a soft gasp from your parted lips and thankfully he manages to at least suppress the urge to just kiss you.

"I just know she's really proud of the beautiful, strong woman you've grown into", he whispers and then places his big hand on your cheek, his touch soft and gentle despite how rough his hands tend to look and you instinctively move further into his touch, the way he did just a half an hour ago.

"I know I am", Jay adds calmly and maybe it's the way you've been working so hard to take care of him or maybe it's all the built up frustration about your situation but no matter how much he tries to stop himself from saying them, he knows those next few words are nothing but the truth.

"I'm so proud of you, Y/N."

And those are the words which have you spiralling all the way back into your deepest feelings for him. You knew coming here and doing the thingds you just did weren't the smartest thing considering you've been trying to distance yourself from him, but never in a million years have you expected to hear such a genuine and sweet praise from him.

"T-Thank you so much, Sir", you whisper and shift your gaze to your hands in your lap, too embarrassed about just how flustered you are.

"Not for this", he calmly replies and probably has no idea what his words have done to you. Even if he knew, you know he'd never care enough for it to effect him.

To your luck, he's long finshed the soup so using the excuse to get his tea, you basically jump onto your feet and run into the kitchen, only to realise that you can't actually lose your shit because he can see you from his spot on the couch.

The following five minutes are filled with nothing but absolute silence and you can't hide how glad you are about it. The tension between the two of you has become unbearable and the urge to crawl onto his lap and never leave again is about to take over every other rational thought in your head.

"Thank you for taking such good care of me, Y/N", Jay says when you finally place the tea on the little coffee table in front of the couch, his eyes casually roaming your whole body and you're surprised how he doesn't even seem hesitant about it. Maybe it's the meds showing their effects or maybe the physical exhaustion, but regardless of the reason, you refuse to accept the possibility of his potential interest in or attraction to you.

"Of course, Sir", you reply calmly, "it's my pleasure."

"Have you been taking care of yourself as well? I know you haven't been feeling the best lately and I wouldn't want you to neglect yourself", Jay says and takes a sip from the sweet tea, his eyes focusing your reactions and he can't help but love just how much his words seem to effect you.

"Yes, Mr. Park", you say softly and smile at him, finally a little less anxious and excited as your body has managed to calm down from the high he'd put you in just a few minutes ago.

"Good girl."

Yet, those two little words basically shoot you all the way up to the milky way within just a single second.

Jongseong doesn't even realise what he just said, yet once he does, his eyes widen and he basically stops in his tracks.

Never once in your life have you expected him to say something so intimate and forbidden, but you physically can't get yourself to hide your reaction.

With a soft gasp, your head shoots up to look at him, hoping that you just misheard what he said but at the way your boss doesn't move a good minute, you know you heard exactly what you he said.

"I'm so – so sorry", Jay says once he regains his composure, his heart thrumming in his throat as the blood rushes in his ears and he actually feels a headache making its way into his brain.

"It's okay", your voice a mere whisper as you're aftaid for it to break if you spoke too loudly, "don't worry about it."

Maybe it's just a habit he has and maybe he just mistook you for someone else, someone who actually gets to hear those sweet words of praise every time he does what he needs to do to get rid of his frustration. That's it. It was just a slip up.

Park Jongseong would never think about praising you in such a manner if he wasn't actually physically sick, so there's absolutely no need for you to get your hopes up again.

"I didn't mean to – fuck – please, just forget about this, okay?"

All you can do is nod as you try to ignore the thick veil of tears that have already blurred your vision, not because of shame or embarrassment but because you know it really wasn nothing a stupid accident.

You hate yourself for wishing to hear it again, and again and again. All you want for him is to call you a good girl until it's engraved into your brain and you actually start believing it.

Jay carefully watches your reactions again and he can't believe the immense guilt he's feeling for having to retract his words knowing you probably needed that more than anything else. The way you seem genuinely disappointed about it has his heart aching in the worst way possible because fuck every single rule he's set for himself. You are a good girl. His good girl. So good, so obedient, so hardworking and so, so perfect. You're everything he's ever dreamed of in a woman, yet there's no way he can be what you need and deserve.

"Not because you aren't one", he suddenly says, not quite sure why he decided to but simply following his instincts, "but because it wasn't appropriate and I'm sorry about making you uncomfortable."

"It's okay, Mr. Park. I'm just – too easy", you basically laugh off the embarrassment and try your best to escape his strong gaze knowing he's going to see your tears if you let him.

"Y/N, look at me, please."

Of course Park Jongseong is too attentive to miss your actual reaction and since at this point your brain has decided to never, ever disobey him, you find yourself looking into his eyes the very next moment.

"We can't do this", he suddenly says and has your heart drop into your stomach, "not only is it super inappropriate and unprofessional but it's also not...right. I'm your boss, you're my employee and things would just get super messy if we acted on this tension between the two of us."

All you can do is nod because you can't quite understand that he just verbally rejected you, especially when you thought things couldn't have taken a wronger turn.

You hate how much youmre struggling to breath yet the knot in dour throat seems to double in its size with every second passing by and for a moment you're genuinely worried about passing out.

"Yes, Sir", is the only response you manage to whisper, too ashamed and embarrassed to say anything else.

"I wish I could be the man you need, but I'm not. And I won't ever be, so please, let's just forget about this and keep it going the way we did until today, okay?"

Yet again, not a single word leaves your lips, the fear of bursting into tears if you dared to say something too big.

"I think it's better if you leave now, I'm sorry."

And it's those words which manage to break his heart into thousands of pieces, but after seeing the way you reacted to his praise and the image of you standing in his kitchen like it's your own has given him false hopes he's not ready to deal with. He can't have you and no matter how much sending you away hurts him, Jay knows he has to do this for you to hate him. Even if you happened to quit your job after today, he'd rather have you be distant than give you the wrong idea.

"No, don't be. I'm sorry, Sir", you say and quickly get onto your feet, reaching for your phone on the coffee table and your jacket before quickly taking a few steps away from him.

Being so physically close to him feels like actual torture and all you want to do is go home and cry yourself to sleep.

You never expected your hopes and little daydreams to be shattered like this, but you know you needed this and it's the only thing which could have brought you back to reality.

"I don't need the boxes I brought the food in, just keep them or throw them away. Please excuse my lack of professionalism tonight, Mr. Park. I promise it won't happen ever again. Have a good night and get well soon."

You don't even give him the chance to get on his feet as you basically turn around and run to the front door the second the last word of your apology leaves your lips and even if he wanted to follow and pull you into his arms, Jongseong just stays exactly where he is because there's no point in comforting you. He did what needed to be done and that's it.

Even if that means watching his good girl run away from him with tears streaming down her cheeks.

This pain is only temporary. You'll eventually get over him, you're so young after all. And once that day comes, you'll be grateful for escaping him and his love. Because Jongseong has always ruined the things he touched and the people he cared about. He'll make sure you won't ever be part of that list no matter how much it hurts his heart.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: here we go babies 👀 it's a little heartbreaking ngl and things will be a little angstier from now on but the spicy part's also around the corner so let's go!🤭 thank you so much for all the love and support, you guys are truly the best. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!!!🩷🧸)

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