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not-neverland06 · 4 months ago

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broken promises

pt two

bodyguard!logan howlett x congressman's daughter!reader

a/n: the fact that he was canonically a bodyguard makes me absolutely insane someone congratulate me, I finally figured out how to make my own dividers Summary: He's learned from past mistakes that no matter how tempting the girl is, it's better not to get involved. He just needs some cash, he doesn't give a fuck how pretty you are. He doesn't care about you. He makes it clear he wants nothing to do with you besides seeing you sign his check. But, is that really all he wants? You're not blind to the way he looks at you. 18+ MDNI Shameless smut at the end, I'm not sorry about it at all.

Logan had gotten used to this. The long drawn-out wait to meet with the man who wanted to hire him. He always arrived right on time, not a moment earlier. They all had the same game they liked to play.

The secretary would greet him, a pretty girl in her 20s that the men were screwing or trying to screw. Then they would make him sit in the lobby for half an hour. They’d apologize by pushing the blame on someone else, saying a meeting had gone on too long. But there wasn’t a meeting. There never was.

They liked to make themselves seem more important than they were. It was a power game, an intimidation tactic that he had always scoffed at. He didn’t give a fuck what government ties they had or otherwise. He just wanted his paycheck.

This one was no different. A congressman who had only recently begun to make waves when he started up an anti-mutant agenda. Ironic that he had specifically requested Logan for the very thing he was trying to eradicate.

There was a buzz and then the secretary was picking up her phone. She spared Logan a fleeting glance before whispering something into the receiver. She looked over at him and he already knew what she was going to say. “He’s ready for you now.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” she gave him a coquettish smile as he made his way towards the large office at the end of the hall. The door was closed when he reached it, three quick knocks and then a quiet Come in.

The man didn’t even look up to greet him. He continued signing something on his desk. Logan took a seat in one of the chairs, waiting for another few minutes before he was deemed important enough to address. He received a tight smile and narrowed eyes as the man took in the way he was dressed.

He never dressed up for these things. He’d learned a while ago that a suit wasn’t going to get him any further than his leather jacket was. Might as well be comfortable while talking to these pricks.

“Had a phone call with an associate of mine. Ran on longer than I meant it to.” Always an excuse, never an apology.

Logan scoffed and shrugged. “I was fine.”

The man sniffed, “I’m sure. Look, I’ll cut straight to the chase. You come highly recommended by my peers and I need help fast.” Logan nodded, motioning for him to continue. The man’s eyes lingered on his fists for a long while before he finished. “It’s my daughter. Things have been a little rough for her at school, for lack of a better word. Especially since this new campaign started. I just need someone to keep a closer eye on her.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, “She a party girl or something?” He wasn’t sure he could handle another bratty daddy’s girl again. The last one had nearly made him blow his brains out. They always think flipping their skirts up will let them get away with more and he can’t stand it.

The man’s face blanched and he shook his head so vigorously that his jowls moved with him. “Oh, no, not at all. But she’s,” he paused and lowered his voice. He leaned in closer to Logan and waited for Logan to do the same. He rolled his eyes but did it anyway. “She’s like you, you know.”

Logan shot him a grin, “You mean a mutant.”

“Lower your voice,” he hissed, face tightening up in anger. “But, yes, a mutant. And I need one to guard her.” Ironic, this man was driving a campaign to make mutants second-class citizens, and his daughter was one. But Logan needed a check, he didn’t give a fuck about the morals of it all.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Perfect, you can pick her up from school for me.”

You had your earbuds in, head lowered while you made the trek across campus when you noticed him. He was difficult to miss, tall and buff. Very buff, you’re surprised that tank top of his hasn’t ripped every time he flexes.

Your dad’s newest campaign has you hyper-aware of your surroundings. You can’t afford to let your guard down. Not after the last attack.

There’s something about this man that tells you he isn’t someone looking to jump you, though. You’re not sure what it is. Every part of him screams danger, but not the type you’re looking out for. The cigar perched between his lips, the glistening muscles you want to bite, he’s trouble.

When you spot him outside your lecture hall for the third time that day, you finally figure out what’s happening. Your dad had told you he’d hired someone new to watch over you at school. You hadn’t voiced just how against it you were, but you didn’t like the idea.

You didn’t mind this guy, though. He wasn’t busting into your classes and embarrassing the shit out of you by making everyone empty their pockets like the last guy. He just lingered. You could deal with lingering.

What you couldn’t deal with was the way he was leaning against his motorcycle, smirking as you slowly approached him.

“Did my dad hire you?” You call out, tugging your earbuds out. “Who are you?”

He speaks around the cigar like it's second nature. “Your new bodyguard, sweetheart.” You suck in a deep breath when you hear his voice. He’s extremely attractive, you're surprised your dad would risk this.

One of the other ones had kind of gotten a little obsessed, stalking you even in his off hours. You didn’t think your dad would want another pretty boy around you. Though, you suppose this one isn’t pretty. He’s extremely handsome, ruggedly so, very manly. Jesus, you might end up being the stalker this time.

His lips curl up like he knows what you’re thinking about. You clear your throat, shifting your backpack higher up your arm. “You planning on taking me home on that?” You ask, pointing at his bike.

He straightens up and shrugs. “Got a problem with the bike?”

You grin, “Not really,” but your dad will. “No, not at all.”

You walk towards him and he reaches out, grabbing your backpack straps and tugging you towards him. You stumble, hands bracing against his chest so you don’t land flat on your face. “Sorry, kid,” but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. He buckles the straps of your backpack together and tightens them, puffing smoke in your face while he does. “Don’t want this flying off.”

“Mhm,” you hum. You’re not paying attention at all. The only thing you care about right now is just how ripped he is under your hands. You’re not sure how long you gawk at him but he seems to be ridiculously amused by it.

“Ready to go home, or what?” You jump back from him, brushing your hands off on your leggings and clearing your throat.

“Yes, yeah.” You rip your eyes off his body and instead focus on the bike. “No helmets?” You ask.

“You heal, don’t you?” You nod and he shrugs. “Don’t need them then, do we?”

You can’t help the giddy grin on your face at that. It’s gotten tiring being treated like glass. You’re about to get on the bike when you finally process what he said. “Wait, how do you know I heal?”

He doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, his gaze darts down to his fists. Your eyes widen when you see the metal poking through the skin. Of course, your father would only tell another mutant about his abomination of a daughter. You scoff and roll your eyes. He’s such a fucking hypocrite.

Logan climbs on the bike and you follow after him. You're hesitant to wrap your arms around his waist but he just reaches behind himself and jerks you forward.

You suck in a sharp breath, pelvis tight against his ass while he squeezes your hands. “You want to go flying?” You shake your head and he chuckles, starting the bike and driving off without another word.

Part of you loves the ride home, the other part detests it. For once you get to experience a little freedom. You’re not trapped in a steel box staring at the back of a car seat while the man beside you pretends he doesn’t exist.

You can feel the wind in your hair, get a taste of real speed, and enjoy a moment uninterrupted by someone’s expectations of you. On the other hand, Logan does not respect speeding laws. And healing abilities or not, you don’t actually want to experience road rash.

He manages to get you home in one piece, parking the motorcycle in the driveway and waiting for you to get off. But you can’t, your thighs have been clenching the seat so tight you think they might need to scrape you off.

“Kid?” He mutters. You shake your head against his back, arms still strangling his waist. It was actually kind of fucking terrifying being on one of these things. You can’t tell if you loved or hated it.

He lets out a rough sigh, forcibly moving your arms and then tugging you off the seat. Your legs are like jello while you try and straighten out. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?” He asks. You can’t manage much more than a strangled hum and he laughs.

You turn to your front door and spot a leering face peering out the window. “Shit,” you huff. Your stepmother sees you spot her and disappears from view. You feel your hopes of ever getting back on that bike go with her.

“You took her home on your bike!”

“Well-”

You flinch at the volume of your father’s voice. “I don’t give a fuck what your excuse is! I will not have my daughter seen riding that monstrosity! You are not to do this again, do you understand me?”

You don’t know what Logan says, but you’re certain it’s not the submissive Yes, sir your father is looking for. He continues shouting at him for another ten minutes. When you hear the door to his office open you scramble to look like you hadn’t been listening in.

But you’re a bad actress and if his huff of laughter is anything to go by, Logan knows what you were doing. “Did you know that was going to happen?” He asks, pointing back to your father’s, now closed, study.

You nod, pursing your lips with an apologetic smile. “If it helps, I was really hoping he wouldn’t do that.”

He shrugs, “I don’t really give a fuck how much he wants to scream at me.” It’s refreshing, to finally have someone in the house who doesn’t kiss your father’s ass. It makes you smile, a real genuine smile for the first time in a while.

You stand from the chair you’d been sitting in, gesturing further into your home. “Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten all day so I was thinking about making something.”

The smirk drops from his face, expression suddenly serious. It makes you tense up. “Look, I appreciate the offer, but I’m here to get paid. I don’t want to be your friend, kid.”

You suck in a sharp breath, trying not to let the rejection sting. He’s a professional, it should be a relief after the last one. “Right, yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that.”

He nods, “Right,” tone stiff. You stare at him for another awkwardly long moment before you finally turn on your heel and walk toward the kitchen. You rush there, speedwalking so you don’t have to look at him any longer.

You open up your fridge, keeping your back to him for as long as humanly possible. You can hear him take a seat at the island, can feel the way his eyes bore into you. It’s a physical thing, his gaze, makes chills scrape their way down your spine.

You make yourself a sandwich and finally force yourself to turn around. Like you’d expected, he’s already looking at you. Lips ticking up just slightly when you finally get the courage to look up at him.

Logan feels a little guilty. You weren’t coming onto him earlier, you were being genuine with your kindness. He knows there were no ulterior motives to it and there’s a very slight part of him that feels bad for making you so quiet. “Why’s your dad so pissy about the bike?”

You’re a little startled by the question, after the comment he made you’d thought he wouldn’t want anything to do with you. You swallow down the rest of your bite and cough a little when the bread gets stuck on the roof of your mouth.

“He doesn’t want me to crash.”

“But you heal,” he points out bluntly and you can’t help but laugh a little.

“Yeah, that’s the problem. He doesn’t want me to crash and for someone to see that I miraculously healed. Having a freak for a daughter wouldn’t exactly help his campaign, would it?” You can’t even attempt to hide the bitterness in your voice. And you know Logan picks up on it because he doesn’t ask any more questions.

Your gaze drops to your plate and you finish the rest of your meal in silence. Or, you try to. “Got any plans tonight?”

You chuckle and give him an odd look. “No,” you respond sardonically. “None at all, prepare yourself for a very boring job. I don’t even know why he hired you, I never leave the house unless it's for school.”

“Yeah?” he muses, but he doesn’t seem particularly interested. More like he’s talking just to pass the time. “I heard you’ve been having a hard time at school.”

You suck in a sharp breath, a sudden wave of anger roiling through your gut. The cabinets behind you begin to shake and you wince in embarrassment, tamping down on your powers before you accidentally blow up the kitchen.

Logan watches the moment with subdued interest like he’s not all that surprised or impressed with the display. “Unless they were a PoliSci nerd, I was a nobody up until last year.” There’s no concealing the hate lurking within your words, “And then my dad took up this whole anti-mutant regime. Well, you can imagine how much the activists love me. I’ve just had a few incidents with some particularly passionate protestors.”

“Do you believe in it?”

Your eyes widen in surprise, you hadn’t expected him to actually continue the conversation. “What do you mean?”

He leans back, arms crossed across his chest in a way that makes his biceps bulge. He shrugs, “The anti-mutant regime, do you agree with it?”

You open your mouth, the perfected script almost rolling off your tongue. But this isn’t some politician's son you’re wooing. You’re not the perfect daughter, you’re in your own home, finally talking to someone else like you.

“No.” You answer, voice strong in its conviction. “And every time I see one of his PAs running around with their little signs I want to ram the stick up their ass.”

He barks out a laugh, eyes crinkling up in amusement. “I think we might get along, kid.”

You try to ignore the way your cheeks warm at his words. You don’t want to be this affected by him, you’ve barely spoken to him. But this is the first person in a long time that you know with absolute certainty you can be honest with. He doesn’t care about protecting your political image or bowing to your father’s every whim.

It’s a relief, like a constricting weight being taken off your chest. You give him an easy smile and get up to wash your dishes. His eyes are on you again but they feel less oppressive this time. You’ve already forgotten the rule he’s set in place, you’re not supposed to be friends.

It’s going to be hard to remember that.

Your father tightens his grip around your waist until you feel like you might squeal. “Smile, now.” You raise your hand, taking the stairs up the stage and waving out at the crowd that’s formed. It’s hot today, your makeup would be melting off if it weren’t for the artists who put it on for you.

Always have to look good in front of the camera. All of you. Seeing Logan in a suit was certainly a surprise. You’re almost completely sure that your father had to give him a bonus to even consider wearing it today.

He looks good, but you honestly prefer him in the normal beater and leather jacket. It’s something so uniquely him. This is just a reminder of your reality, that nothing around you is real. It’s all pretty lies wrapped up in expensive clothes.

You have to bite your tongue and hold back a grimace when your father begins his speech. “First, we had to let them into our jobs. Now they’re in our schools! Our children aren’t safe, not when they’ve got loaded weapons sitting beside them! Because that’s exactly what they are, weapons of mass destruction that will take apart-”

“Fuck me,” you hiss under your breath. Your cheeks hurt from keeping this smile on your face. You’re struggling not to flinch every time the crowd surges up to agree with him, bigoted shouts making your ears bleed.

Logan’s brows raise and he gives you a brief glance over his shoulder. Your face pinches in confusion only for a moment before you quickly correct it. Still, you keep your lips nearly completely motionless as you whisper, “Can you hear me?”

You dart your gaze back down to him and catch the barest of nods. Your smile softens, becoming something real if only for a moment. You don’t say anything else, you don’t need to. It’s just a comfort to know someone else is there with you, seeing through the painted faces and plastic smiles.

There’s movement in the crowd. It cuts your father off midsentence. He peers over the podium, trying to get a better look at what’s happening. You hear someone scream and then the entire crowd is getting knocked to the ground.

You jump back in shock, everyone on stage still. The security, however, is rushing to get to you and your family. It’s too late, though, there’s a mutant in the crowd and his eyes are set on you. “Fuck you,” he screams out your father's name and lugs something at the stage.

You hear someone shout your name but it’s too late. Glass shatters against the side of your face. It takes less than a second for the pain to start. You can feel holes being burned through your skin, like living fire melting through your bones and gums. A scream rips out of your throat, your hands coming up to block your face too late.

“Get her out of here!”

As agonizing as it is, you can already feel your skin working to mend itself. You can practically hear the flesh bonding back together. But the acid is dripping down you. It keeps moving steadily through your clothes and skin, your abilities on overdrive trying to repair the damage.

You can’t focus on anything except the sensation of being burned alive. Suddenly, there’s an arm being thrown around your shoulder and you’re being lifted off your feet. Your skin scrapes against the rough material of someone’s blazer and it makes you grit your teeth and scream again.

“I know, hold on kid, it’ll be over in a minute.” Logan rushes you behind the stage, where there are no cameras to watch you heal. You don’t know how your father’s PR team is going to spin this. Everyone saw it, saw the way your flesh bubbled and boiled. There’s no hiding the fact that half your face should be melted off.

“Car,” you grunt out when he puts you on your feet again.

His hands are clamped firmly around your shoulders, inspecting you for any further damage. “What?”

“We gotta get to the car,” the words are a struggle to get out. Your lungs constrict painfully in your chest while you force the rest out. “Can’t let them see.”

He looks pissed off that that's what you're worried about and not the fact that you were just attacked. Finally, after a minute of just staring at you, he nods. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and runs with you back to the limo. He throws the door open, pushing you inside and sliding in beside you.

You take in a deep breath the second you’re no longer in view of the TV cameras. “Fuck,” you gasp out. Your dress is in tatters on your left side and you quickly cover your chest. You pray that you didn’t accidentally flash anything while you were still on stage. Your father would never forgive you for that.

It’s silent in the car for a moment. You feel something being draped over your shoulder and look over to see Logan passing you his jacket. When he catches your gaze he gently grabs your jaw and titls your face towards his.

His eyes rove over the left side of your face and he gives you a tight smile. “You’re fine, kid.”

You pull your chin out of his grip and pull his jacket closed around you. “See why my father wanted you around? How would he have ever explained his daughter surviving an acid attack?”

There’s something pinched in his gaze. A deep-seated irritation and something else you’re too tired to identify. He’s looking at you oddly and you wish he wouldn’t. You press your forehead to the cool glass of the window and slump against the car door.

You don’t know when you fall asleep but by the time you wake up, Logan’s already carrying you up to your room. He sees you shift awake and places you on your feet. You steady yourself against the stair banister and walk the rest of the way to your room, trying to shake off the pain of the day.

You look back just in time to see Logan at the front door. “Goodnight,” you call down to him. You know he can hear you, but he walks through the door without another word. You bite your lip, ignoring the sinking feeling of your gut.

You toss your destroyed dress to the floor and turn your TV on. You surf through the channels for a bit before finding a clip of today’s incident. “-apparently part of a protest for mutants against the government. I don’t know Bill, they seem to just be proving everybody’s point. They are unsafe.”

“I agree, my thoughts and prayers go out to…”

You roll your eyes as they say your name. They’re saying it wasn’t acid, instead it’s some sort of chemical compound that causes extreme pain. Even you don’t believe that bullshit. You have a feeling your father is going to be looking for a new PR team tomorrow.

Your attention is snagged by the replay of the accident. You don’t focus on the acid, you don’t want to. Instead, you see how quickly Logan rushed to your side. He seemed to be right there even as the acid was being thrown.

Your brows pinch together and you glance at the jacket beside you. He’d forgotten to take it back before he left. You pick it up, eyes skating over the fabric before you find what you’re looking for. There’s a large hole in the right sleeve, acid having burned through it.

You hadn’t even realized he was in pain. You know he can heal, but it doesn’t get rid of the fluttering feeling in your stomach. You’ve never had someone look after you like that.

You grin to yourself, tucking the jacket in the back of your closet. You’re sure he wouldn’t want it back and you’re not planning on parting with it anytime soon.

You’re on house arrest for a week after the acid incident. Which includes no school. Your father has to play into the idea that you’re recovering from the trauma and healing. You don’t know how much longer he’s planning on keeping you locked up but you’re going stir crazy.

Not only do you not get to go to classes, but Logan isn’t around either. He doesn’t need to be, not when the only place you’re in is your room. He’s not a friend, he’s made that clear, but he’s something. And you are desperately craving that specific something.

“It was a sickening attack against my daughter that my wife and I are still trying to recover from.” You roll your eyes as you listen to your father spew his bullshit to the interviewer in the next room.

You’re not allowed to be out and about, of course. You can’t risk someone seeing you. But that doesn’t stop you from lurking.

“It was an incredibly traumatic experience for her, I’m sure.” You grin to yourself, picking at your nails. You like this one, whoever the reporter is interviewing him. She hasn’t let him catch a break. Especially not when he tries to capitalize on your trauma. Even though he hasn’t checked in once with you.

“Well,” he splutters for a moment. “Yes, of course,” he tries to sound humble but anyone can tell he’s just covering his ass. “And it just further proves what I’ve always said about mutants. They are animals, they’re not like us.”

You’d think at a certain point you’d go numb to it. You’ve been raised hearing this rhetoric from him all your life. But the sting never eases. That cloying ache in your chest never quite leaves you. Not when you know the only reason he publicly accepts you is for political gains. So everyone can see what a wonderful father he is and vote for him.

You feel sick to your stomach and you don’t think you can listen to much more of this. But right as you’re about to tap out a hand clamps down on your shoulder. You nearly scream but you catch a whiff of the man’s aftershave and your mouth snaps shut.

You leap out of your chair and whip around, a grin plastered on your face. “Logan, what are you doing here?” You can’t disguise the giddiness in your voice. He might constantly be reminding you that you hold nothing more than a professional relationship, but you don’t give a shit. He’s a constant in your life and that’s rare for you, so you’ll latch onto whatever comfort you can find.

His gaze briefly darts to the connecting wall to your father’s study and you flush. He’d probably heard all of that. You’ve never had someone see the side of your father that you do. There’s something shamefully embarrassing about it.

He looks back at you and gives you a sly smirk. “Wanna get out of here?” You’d have to be an idiot to say no.

“Uh,” you can hear the music from where you stand across the street. You shuffle uncertainly on your feet beside Logan, glancing up and down the sidewalk like your father’s going to pop out of an alleyway. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”

Logan tugs his cigar out of his mouth. He’s leaned up against a lamppost and he’s watched you struggle for the past ten minutes. “Live a little kid, would ya?”

You look back at the dingy bar and grimace. “Okay, there’s a difference between living a little and having my face blasted on the news. How’s it going to look if I’m photographed at a bar while I’m meant to be healing?”

Logan points with his cigar to the entrance of the bar. “I can promise you, no one in there gives a fuck about who your daddy is.” Comforting, and a little humbling.

You take in a deep breath and Logan must sense the change in your demeanor. He flicks the cigar to the ground, crushing it with the heel of his boot. He holds his arm out, “Ready, kid?”

You nod, hurrying to his side and slipping under his grasp. He lets his arm hang heavily around your shoulder, hand squeezing your bicep gently to try and quell your nerves. You’d be swooning at the touch if you weren’t about to throw up from anxiety.

You used to have a life. Until your father had blown it up. You haven’t been around this many people in ages. Well, you haven’t been around people who are just having fun and not sucking up to every politician’s kid they meet.

The music gets louder as you step over through the threshold of the bar. The soles of your shoes stick to the floor. People laugh loudly all around you, some of them shouting up at TV screens for whatever sport is currently playing. You’re sure half of them don’t even normally watch the game. They just need an excuse to get their wives off their backs.

The thought brings a small smile to your lips. Logan glances down at you and frowns, “You are old enough to drink, aren’t you?”

You roll your eyes and move out from under his hold. “Yes, Logan. I’m going into a master’s program, my frontal lobe is fully formed.”

He huffs a little at the attitude, cheeks twitching with a suppressed smile. He nods towards the back of the bar, “Find a seat, I’ll get us drinks.” He walks towards the bar without another word and you resent him a little for it.

Without him beside you, it’s like everything comes crashing down all at once. The songs playing grate on your ears. Every laugh feels like they’re screaming in your face. You’ve never been more in tune with your sense of smell and you hate it.

Your hands tremble by your sides and you nearly miss the man in front of you spilling his beer down his shirt. It looks completely unnatural, the way it just flips out of his hand. And you know it’s your doing.

You shove through him and his friends, running to the back and sliding into the first booth you see. You dig your nails into your palms, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm your heart rate down a bit.

Logan slides into the seat across from you, placing a beer in front of you. It’s barely touched the grimy wood of the table before you tip your head back and drain it. You’ve never been a particular fan of beer or any alcohol for that matter.

But right now you need a buzz before you accidentally level the whole bar. You slam the bottle back on the table, taking in a deep breath, and sitting back. Logan gives you a hard stare, glancing between you and the empty bottle.

He clicks his tongue and stands up, “I’ll go get another one.”

You bite your lip and give him a sheepish, “Thank you.”

It doesn’t take long for the buzz to settle in. There’s a slight tingling in your legs and the tips of your fingers. It almost feels like how you get when you’re starting to get aroused. But you don’t know if that’s from the alcohol or the way Logan looks in his slutty little t-shirt.

Definitely tipsy, you think to yourself, nudging your third beer to the side.

“Always been a lightweight?” He teases, watching you with amusement in his gaze while he works on what must be his fifth whiskey.

You shake your head with a soft smile. “No, I used to go out with my friends all the time.” You laugh a little at the memories and lean in a little closer like you’re sharing some horrible secret. Logan rolls his eyes but acquiesces, leaning in to listen to you speak. “We made up alter egos for our drunk selves. Wanna know mine?” You ask, wiggling your eyebrows at him with a stupid grin.

His brows pinch together and he frowns, “I don’t think so.”

You laugh and lean back in your seat. “You’re the worst!” He places his glass down on the table and fixes you with an odd look. You shift around uncomfortably, “What is it?”

“What happened to your friends? Why are you hanging out with me and not them?”

“Oh,” your gaze drops to the table and you suddenly find the stains on it very interesting. It’s practically abstract art. You swallow harshly around the lump in your throat and shrug. “Um, just all the stuff with my dad happened, and,” you shrug, “I don’t know. My life kind of fell apart.”

You try and shake off the funk, bring back the happy-go-lucky feeling you were in only minutes ago. “I had to move out of the dorms and head back home. My friends stopped talking to me. My boyfriend dumped me. It all just kind of blew up.”

Logan frowns and you swear he seems angry on your behalf. It’s a nice feeling, having someone care enough to hold a grudge for you. “You ever tell him how it was all affecting you?”

You snort, “Of course I did. He was overjoyed. He never liked my friends, especially not my boyfriend, they encouraged me to be too independent. He thought I was losing the values he raised me with. He just never cared to learn that I never agreed with them in the first place.”

Logan doesn’t say anything for a while and you let your gaze drift to the karaoke stage. Two women are singing a bad redemption of Led Zeppelin and it makes you smile. You don’t see the way Logan’s eyes linger on the curve of your lips and then drop to your chest.

You never seem to notice how you make him squirm. There is something so interesting about you. Something so different from the families he worked with before. He doesn’t know if it's the whole mutant thing, if you two are somehow kindred spirits in that regard. He doubts it, he’s never really cared much about that.

But he knows that there is something magnetic about you. It draws him in and makes him hate his own rules. He promised not to get involved with another client. It always ends messy, most times bloody.

You turn back to him and smile. Your voice is a low purr as you ask, “You wanna get out of here?”

Of course, he’s never been one to follow the rules.

“I am so sorry about this. Really.”

Logan glares down at you while you straighten out his tie. You duck your head so you don’t have to meet his gaze and he lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Forget it, kid.” He says it with a smirk but it doesn’t make you feel any less guilty.

This will be your first public appearance since the incident. It’s a gala, of course, because your father hates you. He’d demanded you find a date, someone to look pretty on your arm because he doesn’t want you talking while you’re there. You’re meant for pictures and nothing more.

Considering the fact that no one wants to talk to you on campus, the acid incident not helping at all, you had no luck finding a date. You’d had to beg on hands and knees for days to get Logan to agree.

You don’t know what it is that finally made him cave but you’re grateful for it. You think your father was expecting you to fail. To come crawling to him and be forced to go with who he wanted you to go with.

You were not going to spend the whole night listening to some political major try and explain your own father’s campaign to you. You’d rather swallow acid than go through that for another night. Your father, of course, doesn’t know that Logan is taking you.

You’re planning on ambushing him with it. He can’t do anything about it now. He wants you to have a date for some reason and there’s no way for him to find a backup now. You take a step back from him and turn to look in the mirror.

Side by side, you do make an incredibly attractive couple. He looks amazing in his suit, his muscles just slightly pushing against the fabric. And as much as he hates the tie and constricting material, he makes it work.

And you feel pretty for the first time in a long time. You actually got to do your own hair and makeup for once. You’re a lot less heavy-handed than the assistants your father hires. You feel comfortable in your own skin, finally, wearing the deep red dress your stepmother had gotten for you.

“We look good,” you muse.

Logan looks down at you and smiles slightly, “You do.”

You give him a confused grin, “I said we.”

He leans down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers, “I know what you said, sweetheart.” Your heart nearly beats out of your chest at the proximity. Gooseflesh raises on your arms where he’s touching you and your knee buckles ever so slightly.

You can perfectly imagine his husky voice whispering something much, much dirtier to you. He pulls back with a slight chuckle and forcefully turns you around. “Come on, kid, we’re gonna be late.”

He nudges you towards your bedroom door and you nod your head mutely. He keeps doing that to you. These little things that could be so easily dismissed as you reading into his actions. But you know, deep down, you’re not reading into anything.

But you don’t know what to do with this information that he might possibly be into you. Or at the very least, attracted to you. He made it clear early on that he wants nothing but professionalism between the two of you, yet he continually breaks his own rule.

Your father and stepmother are waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you both. Your stepmother smiles when she sees you but your father’s face screws up in anger. “Are you fucking kidding me? The goddamn bodyguard?”

You shrug and slip past him, already walking to the front door. “A date’s a date.” You pause and grin over at him, “What are you going to do about it?” It’s a taunt, one you don’t give him a chance to respond to.

You’re already slipping outside and heading to the town car. Something about Logan being with you emboldens you to act in ways you never would. Even when he’s not there, when you’re just having family dinner and your father says something off-putting. You fight back, you don’t let him steamroll you and your opinions.

You feel better than you have in ages with Logan beside you. Still, the ride there is incredibly awkward.

The hotel is grand and luxurious. But they all are. You feel guilty complaining about your life when this is your weekend. What do you have to be upset about when you regularly stay in five-star motels and wear designer dresses without glancing at the price tag?

Sometimes you feel guilty around Logan. You wonder if he ever resents you for your privilege. You might be a mutant like him, sure, but you’ve never had to struggle to make ends meet. Or try and scrap together enough money to get your next meal. You’ve never had to worry about where you’re going to sleep next or if you’ll have a roof over your head.

Your struggles have been so different that you worry if something ever did happen between the two of you, you might not work together.

But those are spiraling thoughts for another time. Right now, you’re just trying to get through the front door without someone bombarding your father with questions on his stance about whatever.

When it’s clear that he’s going to be there for a while, he sends you and Logan off to the ballroom on your own. You feel bad for your stepmother, having to stay behind and pretend she’s interested as they bore her with stories that have no real meaning.

“Poor woman,” you mutter, watching her struggle to keep the smile on her face.

“You don’t call her mom,” Logan muses. You turn to look at him and he just shrugs. “Just a little weird.”

“Well, she’s not my mom.” His head tilts in confusion and you elaborate. “My bio mom left the second she figured out she gave birth to a mutant. We lie to the public, stepmom’s interfere with the perfect nuclear family ideal my dad’s pushing for.”

“If he cares so much about family then why don’t you have your dad’s last name?” A good question, one you had to field a lot when you first started school.

You give him a sly grin, “Took my mom's maiden name the second I was eighteen, just to piss him off.” There’s no true reason behind it other than being vindictive and petty. “He’s been trying to get me to change it for years but he can’t force me to. Besides, I like having my name separate from theirs. Lets me pretend I’m not a part of the family. Don’t get me wrong, she’s nice and all, we just never really had the chance to bond.”

Someone passes by you. A couple you know you’re supposed to recognize but you can’t place their names. The man calls out your name, coming toward you with his arms open wide. You can see Logan tense up slightly beside you, bodyguard instincts coming out for a moment.

You squeeze his hand briefly before stepping forward to hug the man. “So nice to see you, again.” You tell him. He grins and squeezes you a little closer to his chest than necessary.

Logan clears his throat, glaring at the man’s drifting hands. Before either of you can react, Logan is pulling you back, hand resting lightly over the small of your back. He holds his hand out, forcing the man to shake his hand and take his attention off of you.

You can’t hold back the smile on your lips when you see how much smaller the man is under Logan’s intense stare. You’ve gotten used to the men at these events treating you however they want. They don’t see you as a human, you are your father’s accessory and their toy. You envy Logan for how easily he can dismiss these men, take away their larger-than-life personalities, and reduce them to the sniveling rats they truly are.

He doesn’t even speak, simply tugs you towards the ballroom and away from the man’s wandering hands. You can’t help the stupid smile on your face while you look at him. He glances out the side of his eye and huffs, “What?” He snaps, tone impatient.

You shrug and shake your head. “Nothing, you’re just…” You trail off, unsure how to continue. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable by telling him how you really feel about him. How deeply you appreciate him, how horribly you desire him. You’re afraid it will all just blow up in your face. That you’ll have truly been reading into everything and gotten his intentions all wrong. After all, he’s made it abundantly clear that there’s meant to be nothing between the two of you except a paycheck.

You take in a deep breath, smile faltering, “Nothing.” You finally spit out, slipping out of his grasp and walking quicker towards the doors. His hand lingers on your back, fingers trailing slowly down your spine until you’re completely out of his reach.

The chatter inside gets louder the closer you get to the entrance. You listen to the indiscernible voices, the quartet playing in the corner, and the clink of metal on the glass as they all eat. You straighten out your shoulders and put on your best smile, mentally preparing yourself to keep it stiff on your cheeks for the rest of the night.

Logan catches up to you, the both of you stopping the second you see the inside of the ballroom.

People Against Mutants

Evolution or Monstrosities

Parents for the Removal of Mutant Children

Your eyes widen as you take in the banners and signs hanging off the walls. More and more uncreative rhetoric all for the annihilation of mutants. Of people like you and Logan. Your smile drops immediately and you know you should have expected something like this from your father. He’d been refusing to tell you what this gala was for, saying offhandly he was just raising some money.

You thought it was another charity. Not this. Not people, quite literally, calling for your head. For Logan’s head. You suck in a sharp breath and glance towards the silent man beside you. His jaw is clenched as he takes in all the finely dressed people around you. They’re all laughing and chatting like they’re not actively campaigning for the destruction of children.

“Bar?” You ask, already walking towards it.

“Sounds good to me.” His hand is on your back again and you’re grateful for it. The glower on his face, the attitude that screams I don’t belong here keeps people away from you. He shoulders through the men huddling around the bar, forcefully clearing space for the two of you.

And when they turn around, posturing like they’re going to say something, he only has to look at them for them to retreat with their tails tucked. It’s ridiculously attractive seeing someone command these men so easily.

“Whiskey,” Logan grumbles, he looks back at you and you slide beside him, leaning your elbows against the cool counter.

“Just champagne, please,” you tell the bartender. He nods, quickly making your drinks and handing them to you. You turn with the flute in your hand, surveying the room. It feels less like a gala and more like a production of false niceties that will never end and never be genuine.

“Don’t know how you deal with these fuckers all the time,” Logan mutters, glaring as a man slams into him and keeps walking without apologizing.

You let out a short huff of laughter, “Honestly,” he glances over at you and you shrug. “I’ve got no fucking clue either.” He scoffs and takes a swig from his glass. But you can’t take your eyes off of him. You feel the words on the tip of your tongue, weighing you down until you feel like you have no choice but to spit them out.

“You,” his brows quirk up and he glances over at you. You take in a deep breath and start over, nerves making your palms sweaty around the glass. “You make it bearable.”

Logan’s face falls and he sucks in a deep breath. You see the expression on his face, you know what he’s going to tell you. And you hate how apologetic he looks. You especially despise the way he’s making you feel pitied. He’s never done that before and you don’t want him to start now.

“Don’t,” you tell him before he can say anything. You let out a self-deprecating laugh and place the champagne flute on the bar so you don’t have to look at him. “I know what you’re going to say, alright. So, just, don’t.”

Logan purses his lips and grabs your jaw. You try and jerk your face out of his grasp but he doesn’t let you, he forces you to look at him. He only lets go once you reluctantly make eye contact. You’re surprised by the look on his face. There’s no pity in his gaze like you’d expected.

This is something else, something darker and more twisted. You can’t put your finger on what exactly you’re seeing but you know it makes your heart race and your thighs clench. “Listen, sweetheart, I-”

“What the hell are you doing?” You jump away from him but Logan just clenches his eyes shut with a short huff of irritated breath. You clear your throat and turn to face your father. He’s glaring between you and Logan, but smiles warmly anytime someone looks your way. “I didn’t bring you here so my contributors could see what a fucking whore you are for the help.”

“Dad!” You exclaim, eyes widening in horror. But Logan doesn’t seem bothered by your father’s words. If anything it seems to incense him, his hand drifting from your jaw to drape itself over the nape of your neck. You try not to show just how much the possessive grip is affecting you but you know they can both tell.

Your father’s face pinches and he nearly stomps his foot as he looks between you and Logan. He looks like he wants to say something else but your stepmother, thankfully, calls his name. She waves him over towards her and you hold your breath, waiting to see what he’s going to do.

He takes in short puffs of air, straightening out his suit jacket and glaring at you. “You’re not going to be a fucking wallflower all night, got it?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s stomping off. He calls out a warm greeting to someone across the room and you feel like you can finally breathe again.

You give Logan a tired smile and nod towards the rest of the party. “Time to mingle.”

He laughs, loudly, enough to make people’s heads turn. You can feel your skin heating up from embarrassment and flinch away from the sound. “Sorry, kid, mingling ain’t part of my contract.”

Your jaw drops as you glare at him. “Are you serious?”

He turns back to the bar, flagging down the bartender for a refill. “Deadly,” he tells you firmly, barely looking at you. You roll your eyes and walk away from him, glaring at his back the whole time you do so.

He thought coming to one of these things, being stuffed in a scratchy suit, would be his worst nightmare. He was proven wrong when he heard them talking to each other. Bitching about golf and their mistresses wanting more attention. Their kids nagging them and their wives being bitches.

All of it made him want to down a whole bottle of whiskey and then blow his brains out. His worst nightmare turned into ever having to hold a conversation with one of these pricks.

Then, he turns around, surveying the room for wherever you were lurking. He expects you to be by your father’s side or hiding somewhere in a corner. Instead, you’re standing close -extremely close - to some pretty boy.

His hand is on your waist and you’re laughing at whatever boring fucking story he’s telling you. Logan tries to pick up on your conversation but there are too many things happening at once already. His senses are on overdrive and he’s already struggling against a migraine.

He feels something brewing in his gut, something he’s been trying to just shove down for months. He doesn’t know what it is he hates about this picture but it makes him sick to his stomach. He hears something crack and looks down to find the glass of whiskey split on one side.

“Shit,” he hisses, slamming the glass on the bar behind him. He shakes his hand out and tries to unclench his fists but it’s hard. He couldn’t have possibly been standing here long enough for you to suddenly find the love of your life. Why the fuck are the two of you so close?

This was so unlike you. Rarely did you ever have something good to say about the men you would encounter at these things. He’d heard you bitch about it enough times. Something about this isn’t adding up and he doesn’t know if it’s his own jealousy or intuition.

Still, he finds himself pushing away from the bar and stalking towards you both. Closer, he can finally see what the problem is. Your hands are on the guy's chest but you aren’t leaning against him, you’re actively trying to push him away.

It makes Logan’s blood boil, jaw clenching as he tries to keep himself at bay. He didn’t want to cave some kid’s head in in the middle of the gala. But the closer he got the clearer he could hear your hissed warnings to take his hands off of you.

Logan finally reaches you and the look of sheer relief on your face makes him want to bring the claws out. He’d love to see that smug smirk ripped off his face, but he holds back. If only so he doesn’t traumatize you.

“Alright, bub, hands off,” he warns.

“Why don’t you just leave us alone?” He had to give it to the kid, he’s got balls. Rarely did anyone ever buck up to him like this. Normally, he might entertain him a bit, drag this on longer than necessary to get a kick out of it.

But he still hasn’t taken his hands off of you and Logan’s not interested in fucking around tonight. Without a word, he grabs the kid by the collar of his jacket and tosses him away from you.

He lands roughly on the floor with a loud gasp and people turn to look. Logan pays no mind to the onlookers. He places his hand on your back and leads you out of the ballroom, unwilling to have eyes on you for the rest of this conversation.

“Logan,” you start, tone nervous.

“Don’t,” he snaps. He regrets it immediately from the way you jump in surprise. He lets out a rough sigh, running his hand down his face, and walks through the first door he finds. “I’m sorry, kid, I just-”

“Logan,” you cut him off. The tone of your voice is enough to get him to finally look at you. Your arms are crossed and you’re glaring at him. “Why the fuck did you drag us into a closet?”

His brows furrow in confusion and he glances around, finally realizing what he walked into, “Fuck,” he hisses. He gropes blindly around the room for a light switch. There’s a small click and then an unflattering fluorescent light is shining down on you both. He’s managed to drag you both into a small, incredibly cramped, cleaning closet.

You’re grimacing as you push a few mops away from your head. You look over at him and something about the look on his face must be funny because you start to laugh. “What were you thinking?”

Your smile makes one curl up on his own lips. He can’t help it, something about you eases a bit of the tightness constantly lurking inside him. “Thought it was one of those stuffy conference rooms.”

You scoff and reach for the handle, “Just a stuffy closest, good going, Logan.” You roll your eyes and tug on the knob. Your brows furrow together as you jiggle the handle every which way, desperately pulling on it.

“Move over,” Logan mutters, nudging you to the side. He wraps his hand around the handle and yanks on it, expecting the door to swing open. When it doesn’t his face falls.

“Did you miraculously unlock it, genius?” You demand sarcastically. Logan feels his shoulders tense up, frustration levels steadily rising. He’s already got a shit temper, he doesn’t need you adding to this.

“No,” he snipes, “but I don’t see you coming up with any wonderful solutions.”

You throw your hands up in the air, wincing when your elbow collides with the shelving unit behind you. “I didn’t drag us into this mess! Why did you even come in here?” You demand and he can see how angry you are.

It shows in the way you tapped your heeled feet against the floor and glower at him like he’s the bane of your existence. He doesn’t know what happens, what comes over him, or why this is the moment he chooses to break his rule.

Your back slams into the shelves behind you and you gasp as he surges towards you. His hands come up to cup your cheeks and before you get a chance to question him, his mouth is covering your own. Logan buries his hand in your hair, ruining the perfectly styled curls. You don’t seem to mind much if the way you arch into him is anything to go by.

His tongue runs across the seam of your lips, tasting the cherry-flavored gloss you’d applied earlier. He wants to devour you. Consume you body and soul, take everything you have to give, and then keep going. He doesn’t want to stop, but he’s not sure he wants the first place you have sex to be in a janitor’s closet.

He pulls back, tugging you back when you try to chase his lips with your own. “Shouldn’t do this here,” he mutters. He’s struggling to hold back. And when you look up at him, lips swollen from his kiss, and you mutter why, how is he meant to resist?

He tugs you away from the shelves, pushing you against the door so he doesn’t have to see your face twist up in pain every time the corner digs into your lower back. Your hands drop down to his belt, lips desperately carving a path down his neck.

He’d laugh at your eagerness if he wasn’t just as desperate for you. He reaches for the hem of your dress but it’s one of those floor-length gowns with no slits. He struggled for a minute before getting too impatient and just muttering, “Fuck it.”

You gasp when you feel the metal of his claw against your leg, eyes dropping down to watch as he makes himself a slit. He slices the fabric along your thigh and then just rips it. “Logan,” you hiss as he hikes the silk over your hips.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” You glare at him, eyes darting between him and his pants before you finally shake your head. He laughs slightly, hand drifting under your dress and reveling in the way you shiver under his touch. “Yeah,” he whispers, “that’s what I thought.”

His fingers move gently along your thighs, easing you into his touch. You let out breathy whimpers, tucking your face in his neck the closer he gets to your core. He lets his hand drift lower, searching out the band of your underwear.

He’s pleasantly surprised when he’s met with nothing but you dripping for him. “Shit, you’re not wearing any underwear?”

You freeze and keep your face stubbornly buried in his neck. Logan laughs slightly, tugging you back and forcing you to look up at him. You mumble something under your breath. It’s said so quickly he can barely understand you. “What was that?”

“Ugh, god, Logan.” You groan and let your eyes drop down to his shirt, fiddling with the end of his tie. “I was hoping this would happen.”

When he doesn’t say anything your face shifts, worry gnawing away at you. You glance up at him and are surprised by the intensity of his gaze. He’s staring down at you like he wants to eat you whole. His pupils have consumed all the color of his eyes, there’s nothing but want on his face.

“You wanna know why I agreed to come with you, kid?”

Your mind is completely dulled just by being this close to him. It takes you a moment to process what he’s saying before you nod your head. “Why?”

The look on his face reminds you of a wolf guarding its territory. It’s predatorial, animalistic, it makes you want him even more. “I didn’t want any of these little boys getting a chance to have their hands on you.” His gaze drops down to your lips and he leans in until your breaths are mingling together.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.” He dips his head down and his kiss isn’t as intense as it was the first time. His lips move lazily over your own, tongue stroking against yours like he’s savoring the taste.

You can taste the whiskey he’d drank earlier, can still smell cigars on his breath. It should be revolting, you’ve never liked kissing smokers. But there is something so intoxicating about him. Everything he does is enchanting to you.

It’s a naive train of thought but you trust him wholly. He could do whatever he wanted to you and you’d let him willingly. His hands continue their exploration down your body and you can’t help but arch into his touch. His fingers stroke languidly over your center and you moan into his mouth.

Your lips part with little gasps and your head thunks loudly against the door. Neither of you notice or care, you’ve all but forgotten the gala outside. The government employees and rich socialites that you’re supposed to be entertaining.

And when he slips a finger inside you, you don’t care who hears you call out his name. The rough pad of his finger creates a feeling you’ve never been able to produce on your own. There’s something so exhilarating about this whole situation.

Stuck in this tiny closet, no air to breathe but each other’s. No room for anything other than your bodies pressed as closely together as possible. You're completely surrounded by him and you never want to leave.

“Logan,” you gasp out his name and shove at his shoulders. He momentarily stops his ministrations, giving you a worried look. “Please, I just want you.” You tug at his wrist, hissing when his fingers leave you with a lewd pop.

He looks hesitant, but you can see the way he’s straining against his boxers. You let your hand trail down his stomach, palming him through the thin fabric. His hips buck into your hands and he lets out the most attractive noise you’ve ever heard. You’ve always liked guys who aren’t afraid to be vocal.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers. He swats your hands to the sides, tugging his boxers down and squeezing your hips hard enough to bruise. “Come on, up.”

You jump and he slings your legs around his waist, lining himself up with your entrance. He drags you slowly down his cock, resting your back against the door and giving a hesitant thrust inside you.

You can’t help the low groan that leaves your parted lips. It’s like you’re full of nothing but him. You’d been mentally prepared for the stretch he would present, but you probably should have given him more time to warn you up.

You don’t care though, this is all you’ve been craving for months. To feel nothing, taste nothing but him. You’ve been praying that he feels the same way you do, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he does.

He looks completely wrecked, head resting on your shoulder while you both take a breath. It’s overwhelming, this feeling of finally having what you’ve always wanted. Someone you can give yourself to completely and still feel safe with them.

You drag your hand up his back, burying it in his hair and reveling in how soft it is. You tug him back by the roots, tilting his neck until he’s forced to look at you. Your gaze drops to his reddened lips and you smile at the gloss you’ve smeared across his chin.

“Come on, Logan, don’t tell me you’re all talk.”

His eyes narrow but you can see the amusement swimming within them. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“Oh, yeah?” You goad, grinding your hips down against his and biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. You’re trying not to make a noise, trying to make sure he doesn’t see just how much he’s affecting you. But you can already feel your orgasm forming, it’s a low tingle in the tips of your toes, a burning hot desire rushing through your thighs as you clench around him.

“Yeah,” he promises, thrusting sharply into you. This time the moan is forced out of you, your lips parting unbidden as you slump over him, burying your face in his neck. He doesn’t waste any time, using your hips as handles to pump you over his cock like you’re nothing more than a toy.

The door rattles behind you, each thrust of his hips makes it shake in its frame. His hands fist the back of your dress, grip so tight you think it might tear. You don’t care. He could rip it off of you and you’d walk outside naked right now.

You don’t care what happens, not when he’s beside you. There’s a feeling of security that comes from being around Logan and you can feel it in this moment. You trust him to take care of you in every way.

Maybe you shouldn’t. After all, you two haven’t known each other long. But there’s not much you’re worried about when he’s moving steadily inside you. You can taste the desperation you share for each other in each pump of his hips.

He whispers it into your ear while you claw at his back. The shelves around you shake and you worry you might bring them down if you can’t rope yourself in. But you can feel the wave building in the back of your throat, your vision blurring as you tighten your legs around his waist and begin to match his rhythm.

“There you go,” he mutters, pinning you to the door and keeping your hips still while he moves inside you. “Come on, I can feel you clenching around me, sweetheart.” He manages to hold you up with one hand, the other diving between your legs to rub tight circles around your bundle of nerves.

It doesn’t take much longer for your muscles to seize up, back bowing as you clench desperately around him. “Oh, fuck, Logan,” you shout his name, and his hand quickly comes up to smother your cries. He squeezes your cheeks until your eyes snap open and he drags you down to meet his gaze.

“Don’t want to lose my job, need you to be quiet for me,” he grunts out, his tone breathy and strained. He loses his rhythm, movements speeding up erratically while he lets out low groans and whispers of your name. You almost cum again when he finally finishes inside you.

Your limbs are twitching in overstimulation by the time his hips still. You feel completely boneless, body slumped lazily in his arms. He wraps both arms around you, squeezing you a little before slowly lifting you off of him.

It’s a relief of pressure when he pulls out. His cum leaks out of you, dribbling down your thighs and dripping onto the floor of the closest. Your face screws up at the feeling and you internally cringe. No condom was probably a stupid call.

But you don’t really want to think about the repercussions right now. Not when he’s stroking your hair and rubbing a soothing hand down your back, waiting until you can form a coherent sentence before he lets you go. “Alright?” He asks, voice bordering on something smug.

“Mhm,” you push away from him, legs shaky as you try and straighten out your dress. It’s a loss cause, trying to hide what happened in here at all. You’ve got a tear going up to your hip and you’re pretty sure there are holes in the back. Logan’s tie is gone and you don’t even remember taking that off. His shirt is completely wrinkled and your lip gloss has stained his face.

You’ve both got horrific sex hair and the room reeks of it. You don’t know how you're going to sneak out of here. You still try and relax your hair, patting down the flyaways while Logan retucks his shirt.

It’s silent between the two of you, heavy but not awkward. You don’t think either of you knows what to say now that you’ve physically acted on what you want. A sudden thought hits you, makes your heart clench painfully and your tongue ties up in your mouth.

He’d confirmed that he wanted your body. That he desired you sexually. But you don’t think he actually said anything about a real relationship. There would be problems, of course, your father for one would have a lot to say about it. But you don’t care about that. You don’t care about any of the consequences, you just want to be with him.

You open your mouth to ask him what he wants when the door swings open. Both you and Logan whip towards it. But where you look like a deer caught in the headlights he looks like the epitome of male pride.

Especially when he realizes it's your father on the other side. “Dad-” You start, but you have no idea what you could even say. Your dress is in tatters and both you and Logan are still mussed up. There’s no hiding what happened here.

He doesn’t let you finish, holding up his hand. His voice is eerily calm as he says, “I thought I heard something banging around in here.”

“You did,” Logan scoffs, crossing his arms and glaring at your father. You feel your heart jump to your throat, staring over at him with a horrified look on your face. How could he think that was okay to say? It was so dismissive of what you believed had happened.

This was more than just a quickie in the dark to you. This meant something, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that it was the same for him as it was for you. And that just makes you feel like the stupid little girl everyone seems to believe you are.

Your father says your name but you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye. “You’re feeling sick,” he tells you, no room for argument. “Your date had to take you home. It was just too much too soon after the incident at the rally.” When you don’t say anything he shouts out, “Understood?” That makes you jump.

“Yes,” you clear your throat and face him. “Yes, understood.”

Your father has made his stance on mutants clear. He hates them, despises them to their very being, and wishes he could kill every last one. And as much as you were raised with those ideas, they were never truly turned on you.

But he’s looking at you right now like he wishes you were never born. You feel like shit on his shoe. Something to be hidden away and buried. It makes your shoulders slump like a hundred pounds was just tossed onto your back.

You try to run past him but he jerks you back, fingers so tight around your bicep you feel the skin tear. You gasp in pain but don’t say anything, too afraid to argue. “Put his jacket on, I won’t have you looking like a whore.” He releases you with a rough shove and storms off.

You can feel something burning at the back of your eyes. A moment later Logan drops his jacket over your shoulders, pulling you back into his chest and running his hands over your arms. “Come on, kid,” he mutters. There’s something resigned in his voice that makes your heart drop, “Let’s get you home.”

The walk through the lobby feels like you’re walking through a dream. You’re not completely present for it, or the ride home. Your mind and your heart are warring and you feel like you’re going to be torn apart if you keep lingering on what just happened.

You just can’t understand how you could go from having everything you wanted to feeling like the scum of the earth in less than two minutes. Logan doesn’t speak as he drives you home. His knuckles are turning white around the steering wheel and you’re afraid to even try and start a conversation.

You don’t want to hear him tell you that he didn’t desire you past your body. You don’t want to discover that you’re just another notch on his belt. He seems to do this a lot, sleep with the girls he guards. The idea of just being another job, another fun night, makes you absolutely disgusted with yourself.

When he pulls into the driveway of your house you both just sit in the car. Neither of you knows what to say. And the air between you is so thick with tension you feel like you could choke on it. You stare down at your hands, fingers fiddling with the ripped seams of your dress.

You pick at the threads and feel his stare on you. You can’t do this. You can’t deal with the possibility of rejection. Not after what happened between you and certainly not after what your father said.

You undo your seat belt and Logan watches as you go through the movements of getting up. His eyes never leave you and it’s like a physical caress, his stare. Normally it would make you warm inside, comforted by his presence. But right now all you can feel is the chill of where his cum has dried between your legs and the icy-hot stab of nausea in your gut.

You throw the door open and you’re nearly out when he calls out a quiet, “Goodnight.”

You don’t look at him, you can’t. You slam the door shut and walk silently to the front door of your house. You don’t look back, don’t respond, you just slip inside your house and finally let the weight of the night come crashing down on you.

You don’t cry until you hear him pull out of the driveway.

Your father and stepmother usually stay at the hotel the night of a gala. Most nights you come home and enjoy the house to yourself for once. Tonight, you’re woken up by the front door slamming so hard your walls shake.

You can faintly hear your stepmother’s voice trying to console your father. She’s muttering something to him you can’t make out. You shoot out of bed, running to pull some sweatpants on. After you’d cried yourself out you’d taken a shower.

You’ve scrubbed your skin raw but you swear you can still smell him on you. You rush to your bedroom door, turning the knob quietly and slowly peeking your head outside. Your father’s at the bottom of the stairs, the second he spots your open door he’s screaming your name.

Your stomach twists painfully and you can feel panic starting to overwhelm you. Your hands shake and your legs are stiff as you slowly step into the hallway. You’re a grown woman. You shouldn’t feel like this because your dad is going to yell at you.

But he’s been so good at forcing you to rely on him. At forcing you to bend and break to fit his beliefs and mold. You don’t know what to do if you’re not striving for his approval. And right now it’s very clear that he’s never been more disgusted by you.

If the look on his face isn’t enough to twist the knife deeper, his words are. “I have never,” he screams at you. You take a step back, keeping the stairs between you, refusing to meet him in the middle. “Been more embarrassed to call you my daughter. Do you have any idea how humiliating that was for me? Do you know how many people saw you being dragged outside like a fucking whore off the corner?”

You clench your eyes shut, turning your face away from him as the shame becomes a physical thing inside you. You can feel it making its way up your throat. Because he’s right. Tonight you were nothing more than a slut without any self-respect.

But you’re also pissed off. You’re fucking enraged at yourself for being so stupid as to ever believe Logan wanted you for anything more than your body. You're mad at Logan for knowing how you feel about him and taking advantage of it. And you’re so fucking tired of doing everything you can to make your father proud and it never being enough.

“Have you ever once asked me what I want?” You raise your voice, screaming down at him with a ferocity that surprises even you. His eyes widen, frame trembling with unreleased rage. You plow through, not stopping because you know if you do, you’ll never get this out. “No, you haven’t. Not once. Because you don’t fucking love me! And it has taken me years to accept that, to finally realize that you’re incapable of loving anyone but yourself.”

You gasp, the noise wet and painful as something warm trickles down your cheek. You stare down at him with your eyes wide in realization. “It’s so clear to me now, I feel like an idiot for missing it for so long. You never loved me. You’re incapable of it!”

You’re embarrassed at the way your voice cracks. As much as you want to pretend you’re stronger than him, not afraid of him. There’s still a little girl inside you who wonders why Daddy doesn’t love you.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you want, Dad. I don’t care what you want my life to look like or if I embarrassed you. I’m glad I did, glad someone finally saw a sliver of the truth you try so desperately to hide-”

“Enough!” He shouts and it startles you so bad that you jump back, your abilities reacting and a vase behind you flying off the shelf. You duck as glass shatters across the stairs and floor. You glance at the scene with shocked eyes, looking down at your father to see that he’s not even a little bit surprised.

Instead, he just looks so deeply disappointed that it makes you shrink into yourself. The anger within you is extinguished in a second. He rubs his face, shaking his head and turning his back on you. “Dad?” You call out, voice trembling.

“Go to your room,” he tells you quietly. “I don’t want to look at you anymore.” You hover by the top of the stairs for a moment, not quite believing him yet. And when he realizes you're still there, that you’re not taking him seriously, he finally looks at you again.

“I wish every goddamn day that those doctors had just put you down. I’d rather have a dead daughter than one like you.”

You stand there, stunned, even after the rest of the house has gone to bed. You clean up the pieces of glass while you try and swallow down your tears. Let the sharp edges dig into your skin and tear until you can feel any type of pain besides the one inside you.

A week of solitary confinement. You’re surprised that you haven’t just been kicked out of college. You’re sure that your father’s many donations to the university are the only thing stopping your professors from dropping you from the class.

You don’t care if they do or not, though. You never actually care about what you studied. You’d just always hoped that it would be a way for you to escape the tight grip around your neck your dad has on you.

You’ve figured out that no matter how hard you fight, you’ll never escape him. He hates you and yet, he can’t let you go. You’d laugh if you weren’t busy wallowing in your depression.

Someone keeps leaving food by your door but you can’t find it in yourself to be hungry. You’ll nibble on something, but you feel like you’re going to throw up when you so much as breathe the wrong way.

You haven’t heard from Logan since that night. You knew your father would fire him the second he woke up. But you’d held out hope - foolishly - that he might still try and reach out to you. You have this childish image in your head of the prince coming to rescue the princess from the dragon.

But you’ve been naive your whole life, you don’t want to keep going down this road. You don’t want to keep expecting the best of people and live your life in perpetual disappointment.

You haven’t seen or spoken to your father since that night. Wordlessly, he’d banned you to your room. No one’s said it, but you know you’re not allowed to come out. You don’t know when he’s going to deem you useful again and drag you back out into the public eye.

Contrary to his belief, no one had seen you leave that night with Logan. You hadn’t been in any tabloids or shitty news articles. Besides emotional estrangement from your father and losing the only guy you’ve ever really liked, there were no consequences to your whorish behavior - as your father so lovingly puts it.

You roll over in your bed and picture yourself taking a shower. It feels like such a workout but you can’t stand lying in your sweat and tears for much longer. With a long drawn-out groan, you throw yourself out of bed and enter the bathroom connected to your room.

You know you’ll feel better afterward, but everything besides sleep sounds like too much work. Still, you force yourself inside and finally clean the grime of laying on your ass for a week off.

You walk naked through your room, making a beeline for your dresser. You feel a little better after washing yourself off and moisturizing. But not much. Physical health can only do so much for how you feel inside.

You hope this will blow over soon, you’re not sure how much longer you can take feeling so awful. You hate pitying yourself, and that’s exactly what you’re doing right now. You huff irritatedly, digging around your drawers for your favorite shirt.

A hand clamps around your mouth, rough and big, yanking you back into a muscled chest and keeping you quiet. You still try and scream, hands clawing at the skin of their hand until you feel blood.

“Fuck, quit that, would ya?”

Your erratic movements slowly come to a halt. You still feel your heart pounding against your chest, adrenaline warming your blood and making you feel like you're on fire from the inside out. But, you recognize the voice, recognize there’s no danger to the situation.

That doesn’t make you any less pissed off. When Logan is sure you won’t keep attacking him, he lets you go slowly. You immediately whirl around on him, uncaring that you’re still naked. Energy moves quickly through you, becoming a physical thing under your skin.

He smiles at you and you push the energy out, throwing him across your room. He flies into your bookshelf, crashing to the ground with a loud slam. “What the fuck are you doing?” You scream at him.

There’s no one home right now, luckily, or else you both would be screwed. He shakes his head off, brushing pieces of wood out of his hair and slowly getting to his feet. “Well, I was coming to say hi-”

“You say hi by ambushing naked girls?” You interrupt, grabbing the clothes closest to you and pulling them on quickly.

Logan rolls his neck out and shrugs. “No, that was just a plus,” he gives you that insufferable smirk and you want to scream.

This is the first time you see him in a week since you had sex together and your father officially disowned you. And this is what he’s leading with? Seriously? “You’re a real fucking prince, Logan.” You shake your head with a scoff and glare at him.

He narrows his eyes, looking to be in disbelief at your attitude. “What happened?” You expect to hear irritation in his tone. Anger that you’re being such a bitch right now. Instead, he sounds concerned, like he can see right through you.

You hate that. You used to love having someone who could see past all the pretenses and walls, but it just hurts now. “Nothing,” you tell him, unable to hold eye contact any longer. “Look,” you take in a deep breath, and your brows furrow in confusion. “How the hell did you even get in here?”

Logan doesn’t look like he wants to drop the topic just yet but he relents. He nods towards your window and you fix him with an astonished look. “I climbed, I didn’t want your dad to risk seeing me on the security cameras out front.”

You feel suspicion brewing inside you, tone turning defensive. “Look, if you came here because you want to fuck again, I suggest you go find another girl. I’m not interested anymore.”

“Well,” he scoffs, “I find that hard to believe.” How easily he just dismisses your words. Like they hold no real importance. It makes you want to scream. Instead, you just flick your wrist, throwing him into another wall. You don’t know how you’re going to explain these holes in the wall to your father but you don’t really care.

“Enough,” he snaps, brushing himself off and glaring at you. Your lips curl up in amusement, the first thing you’ve felt besides anger and depression for the last week. “Look, I was coming here to get you the hell out, kid. Clearly, I’m not wanted.”

He walks towards your window, intent on climbing back down the side of your house and leaving. You almost let him, if only to see him scurrying down the wall. Instead, you take a step forward and stop him with a small, “Get me out?”

He sighs, running an aggrieved hand over his face and propping the other on his hip. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Look, I can’t stand the thought of you cooped up in here, isolated from the rest of the world. It’s not fair, I was gonna see if you…” He trails off and roughly swallows.

Your interest piques. Whatever is this hard for him to get out has to be interesting. “Logan,” you call his name softly. “See if I what?”

He huffs out a rough breath, turning around and staring you down. There’s something in his eyes, something reflected in yours. He’s looking at you the same way you always look at him. “You wanna come with me, kid?”

Well, you’d have to be an idiot to say no.

You don’t leave a note. You don’t give them any clues or hints as to where you might have gone. They can draw their own conclusions about what happened to you. They can tell the news whatever twisted lies they want.

You don’t care, that’s not your life anymore. Your life is packed away in a backpack in the back of Logan’s trailer. Your new life is in the passenger seat beside him. You’re equal parts terrified and excited to figure out what you’re going to do with the rest of it.

a/n: can you tell I know fuck all about politics?

Also, smut, wow, this was hard and rough to write. I don’t know why it’s such a struggle. I just feel guilty writing such dirty words, it’s absolutely diabolical that I have no problem being crazy over a guy whose age gap with me is the same age as my parents, but I can’t write smut.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp♡

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine imagine #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman

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demonic0angel · 28 days ago

Note

Prompt: Dan Phatom as an inmate of Arkham Asylum?

Part 2, part 3

Harley hummed. She eyed the newest inmate, a gorgeous hunk of meat with dark raven hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing the usual orange suit, but he wore it like a model, with the buttons opened and sleeves rolled up, highlighting his broad arms and tight muscles. He was as beautiful as a demon, and even though Ivy was way prettier, Harley still couldn’t help but be curious.

Harley nodded to herself, thinking for only a moment. Then she waved a hand, calling out, “Yoo hoo! You there! Hey, handsome! Why don’t you come here and spend some time with me and Ivy?”

Ivy rolled her eyes next to her. “Harley!” She hissed.

The man paused, tilted his head, and then smiled, flashing his sharp fangs before he crossed the prison yard to sit down with the two. People stared at them, but the man didn’t seem bothered.

“Hello,” he said politely, “what’s up?”

“You’re new here, ain’tcha?” Harley said rhetorically. “What’re you in for?”

The man chuckled. “I thought it was rude to ask?”

“Nahhh, in here? It doesn’t matter. Everyone already knows why we’re here, there’s no secrets around here. So? What’re you in here for?”

The man smiled. “I started teasing a little bird I found and then he started getting mad at me. I didn’t like how he made Batman go after me, so I made a building explode and I was tossed into here. I didn’t even kill anyone though!”

Seeing how large and old he was, Harley was a little worried and had to ask, “Which little bird?”

“The beautiful one with the black and blue suit and the pretty smile,” the man said dreamily, curling a lock of raven hair around his clawed fingers as he looked towards the sky in a daydream. “He was pretty funny too.”

Harley immediately cooed. Anyone who thought Nightwing was funny clearly hadn’t been hit over the head by his escrima sticks while he threw out obnoxious puns, but the way he described him was so sweet! He was clearly insane, so that was completely okay in her books!

“Awww, that’s so cute! Are you a meta or what? Those fangs o’ yours don’t look human!” Harley said, while Ivy shook her head exasperatedly.

The man shook his head with a small smile. “Not exactly. But I guess I do have meta powers.”

Ivy asked, “Then doesn’t that just make you a meta?”

The man shrugged and then asked, “What about you ladies?” Harley knew that he was just dodging the question, but she didn’t mind, so she began to prattle on about the recent museum break-in she and the girls did, but Selina got away while she and Ivy were caught. Selina was planning a break out for them soon, so they just had to sit tight and wait!

The man smiled, fangs appearing again. “Can I join you? I want to see that little bird again.”

Harley beamed, “Sure thing! What’s your name?” while Ivy groaned.

The man smiled and reached over to shake her hand. His hands were cold and large, like a chunk of ice. He smiled and his pupils sharpened into slits, but oddly enough, he still looked friendly, like a tiger in a way.

“Please. Call me Wraith.”

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bluerosefox · 4 months ago

Text

Selina's New Kittens

Once again. A new DPxDC idea/prompt.

(Deaged! Danny, Dan, Ellie, and Jazz!)

Enjoy my random ideas.

Look.

Selina....

Selina wasn't expecting this when she decided to have some fun and do what she does best.

She just meant to sweet talk her way into Master's gala/party. Flirt and get info, maybe some blackmail. Steal away the rare cat themed artifact he had recently gotten (and also steal away his actual cat, such a lovely little diva it is too). then she was going to disappear into the night like always.

So...

Selina casted her eyes into the mirror of her car and could see the tiny children she had rescued from Master's hidden basement lab. All but one was asleep, the oldest out of them, although she seemed to be losing that fight from the way her head was falling forward, eyes closing but would jerk herself back awake when she realized she was falling asleep.

Curled up as hard and as much as they could towards the little redhead was three dark haired children, Selina mused that they'd fit right in with Bruce and his little bats/birds.

Two were near identical boys, though one seemed to be much paler than the other and if she remembered right one had red eyes and the other had blue, and the last one of the sleeping kids was a tiny toddler, a girl she heard was named 'Ellie' from the others.

Selina took note that the red head, Jazz, had finally fallen asleep a few minutes later. With a deep breath as she drove further and further away from that... that insane Fruitloop (she overheard the two boys call him that as they ran to her car) Master's place, she blindly reached for her phone and pressed a single digit on the screen, knowing it will connect to her car and call up the only person she can trust to help her with this.

"Selina." came the gravely voice after a single ring, sounds like she caught him on patrol but he seemed to be in a spot where he was okay to say her actual name over coms or she caught him before his night shift started.

"Hello Darling, I need your help with some kittens I found and to help me... Put away their terrible old owner."

#danny phantom #danny fenton #crossover #dp x dc #blue rambles #danny phantom dc #writing ideas #random idea #dpxdc #deaged danny #deaged dan #deaged danielle #deaged jazz #Selina found the deaged Fentons in Vlad's lab basement #she was there to just steal some cat artifact her intel told her he had #she wasn't expecting the children. nor to see them with collars that apparently kept them 'in check' if they used their powers #thankfully Vlad was focused on keeping their ghost powers under his control. He was too blinded to think of stopping mundane ways to escape #aka Selina lockpicking the collars and getting the kids out of the basement without powers/abilities #PERSONAL Headcanon for this AU. Good Fenton parents that took in both Dan and Ellie after good reveal. Still bad Vlad.#Vlad got MEGA jealous at the 'perfect family' and set up something that destroyed the Fenton portal. Got Jack and Maddie killed.#and got the kids deaged. AND the explosion sent them to the DCverse.#Vlad decided to begin anew in the DCverse. started using his powers to gain money again and put collars on the kids to keep them 'in check'#He's going to be in MEGA trouble when Selina brings attention to him.#Cause Bruce isn't going to happy.

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yourlittlebunnyy · 8 days ago

Text

all the times franco colapinto and yn were unhinged on each others socials

find more here!

francolapinto just posted.

liked by ynusername, williamsracing, alexalbon and 394.483 others

francolapinto this has been such an amazing experience! thank you @/williamsracing 💙

see comments

ynusername post season celebrations starts... now🤭

francolapinto then why are you laying next to me STILL DRESSED?

ynusername ugh men these days... i wont do the work myself silly

alexalbon do you guys realise this is not a private chat?

user1 OMG PLS THEYRE ARE SO CUTE AND DUMB TOGETHER

user2 williams pls pls pls never make them change🙏🙏🙏

user3 I'm gonna miss him so much💔

williamsracing it was a pleasure to have you with us💙

alexalbon good luck mate!💙 (finally all this lack of pr training will stop😍)

ynusername are you sure about this...

alexalbon NO

user4 KELSMBAKAKS SHE'S SUCH A DIVA

user5 yn you will be forever missed.

user6 no more yn and franco comments😔

francolapinto no one can stop us😏

williamsracing 😰

landonorris blocked❤️‍🔥

user7 it was about time

charlesleclerc hoping I'll see you more around the paddock! 😊

f1wags_and_gossip just posted.

liked by francolapinto and others

f1wags_and_gossip recent photos of yn! she looked stunning in NYC💚

see comments

user8 LMAOOO NOT FRANCO IN THE LIKES

user9 he's obsessed 🥲

user10 WHO WOULDN'T??? THAT'S YN WE'RE TALKING ABOUT🙏‼️

francolapinto DAMN RIGHT🤭

user10 OMG FRANCO????

francolapinto mami

user11 ohhh there he is

francolapinto ughhhh why she always looks so good😣😣😣

user12 its not fairrrr

user13 tbh franco is so real cause HAVE U SEEN HER??

francolapinto step on me. run me over. literally do anything you want and I'll still beg for more🙏

f1wags_and_gossip oh!

user14 well that was... specific😀

user15 we listen and we don't judge ☝️

user16 judge? i would let her do way worse things to me😞

francolapinto ^^

user16 LOL AJaAKKAKA FRANCOOO

williamsracing we can't even take a breath without franco causing media scandals

francolapinto again, appreciating my woman shouldnt be a scandal???

alexalbon he'll never understand i fear...😟

user17 PLS STOP AJJAJAJAHAHA

ynusername just posted.

liked by francolapinto, yourbestie and others

ynusername second pic is me when he looks at me with those pretty green eyes and asks me if i want to get on my knees for him😇

see comments

user18 oh...

user19 CAPTION IS INSANE

user20 insanely REAL you mean?

user21 oh! that's not...

francolapinto you always make the prettiest expression i cant help it but ask🫣

ynusername awww🥹

user22 GIRL WHY ARE YOU DISCUSSING THE WAY YOU GIVE HEAD HERE????

alexalbon agreed. go somewhere else.

ynusername no❤️

landonorris I THOUGHT I BLOCKED YOU AND THAT THING EWWWW

ynusername dont worry ill block you now🙏❤️

landonorris thank god

user23 lmfaoooo lando is so me rn

user24 can i be blocked too? i cant keep seeing this

yourbestie CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW I FELT OPENING INSTAGRAM AND YOU POPPING ON MY SCREEN HALF NAKED IN FRONT OF MY ALL FAMILY?

ynusername ooooopppppsssieee

yourbestie girl.

yourbestie OMG I JUST READ THE CAPTION WTF IS THAT EW?

user25 literally my reaction

user26 we'll all been there...😔😔😔

francolapinto 🤤🤤🤤

user27 OH HE'S BACK

user28 ffs it wasnt already enough?

francolapinto ai dios mios mami i want you so bad

ynusername you can have me whenever you want baby

francolapinto dont say it twice

alexalbon bleach. i need bleach.

landonorris me too. me too.

charlesleclerc so we all need it, right?

williamsracing yes.

more here!

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ashwhowrites · 3 months ago

Note

eddie munson x cheerleader/popular reader, where the reader keeps asking eddie out on a date but he keeps rejecting them because why would a popular person want to be with him. Anyways, maybe something happened that made him realize that he believes them and would like to go out with them.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Asking me out?

Y/N recently grew a crush on Eddie, the town's freak. She never saw something in him before, but all it took was one moment for it to change.

It was a Friday night and she was freezing her ass off on the field. But a big fake smile plastered on her face as she did the cheers. She let her eyes wander as the game played, and then she saw Eddie. He stood off to the side smoking a cigarette, she was surprised he wasn't asked to leave. He had one hand in his pocket and his hair was covered with a black beanie. He must have felt her stare because he looked in her direction.

She froze as she couldn't look away, his eyes kept her in a daze. His eyes warmed up her body and she felt her face burn when he winked.

That was all it took, that night she dreamed about it and woke up with the biggest crush she's ever had.

When Monday rolled around she had a skip in her step. She wanted to ask Eddie out, she knew she'd sound crazy with it coming out of nowhere but who cares.

She found him at lunch and walked over to his table. A big smile on her face as she stood in front of him. He was so cute that it made her want to giggle for years. She was shocked that the girls didn't see how attractive he was.

"Can I talk to you?"

His table went silent

Eddie looked at her confused

"Me?" he asked, pointing to himself, her eyes never left him so it was clear who she meant. But he had no idea why.

She grabbed his hand and lifted him from the chair, he looked over at his friends as she pulled him into the hallway. She dropped his hand and turned around to face him

"I'm Y/N," she said as she smiled

"I know," he said, "I mean! I'm Eddie," he stuttered

"I know," she said with a small wink. Eddie wasn't sure if his heart racing was a good or bad thing.

"I saw you at the football game on Friday, and this might sound very forward, but I think you are insanely attractive and I'd love to go out on a date with you, maybe tonight?"

Eddie felt the need to clean his ears because there was no way Y/N, the prettiest cheerleader, asked him out. He stared at her like she had multiple heads, and he had a feeling it coming out of nowhere was a trap. He would love to say "hell yes" but he was tired of being burned by people.

"I can't tonight, I have to babysit," he lied

"That's okay, how about tomorrow?" she asked

"I babysit all week and the weekend. You know, parents have kids but never want to take care of them," he nervously laughed

Y/N felt blown off and had a bad feeling he was lying. She was disappointed but she shrugged it off.

"Have fun, Eddie. Maybe another time," she spoke quietly, far less enthusiastic than before. And that made Eddie feel like shit.

"Yeah, thanks," he said, watching as her shoulders slumped as she walked back into the cafeteria.

~~~

In case he was telling the truth and had to babysit, she tried again for that "another time."

"Hey Eddie, do you want to get a bite to eat after the game?"

"I have to be home right away, I'm sorry"

And then she tried another time, and another, and another. He always seemed to be busy. But she really liked him and she wanted to try one last time.

Eddie was sitting against the school's building as he waited for Wayne to pick him up, his van decided to not start and left him stranded.

Y/N walked over, standing at his feet.

Eddie looked up as a shadow covered him. There she was, beautiful as ever. She made Eddie nervous and he didn't like to be nervous.

"What are you sitting out here for?" she asked, Eddie could feel his stomach flutter when she smiled.

"Van died so waiting for my ride," he shrugged

"I can give you a ride, and as a thank you for it maybe we could get ice cream?" she offered, more shy each time since she knew he'd say no.

"He's already on his way so you don't have to worry about me," he said as he stood up

"What about just ice cream then? I can pick you up." She kept trying and he kept shutting her down

"I'll probably be in the shop with my van, but once it's fixed I should have some free time, I'll find you."

~~~

Eddie arrived in his van a few days later, and he never talked to her. It hurt to admit, but he was never going to say yes and she had to move on.

He found her eyes and quickly looked away, when he looked again she was gone.

A few days passed and she stopped walking up to him. Sometimes they'd make eye contact, and she'd smile and then look away. Anytime she walked in his direction he held his breath, letting it free when she walked passed him.

He missed talking to her, even if it was always two sentences. He liked having her attention but he was scared of what would come after if he said yes. Would a bucket of water be dumped on him? Was it a bet? Would he find himself shoved in a closet and beaten up?

It was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

Eddie was walking to his campaign when he walked passed the gym and heard his name.

He peeked inside to see Y/N and Chrissy stretching. Eddie was a simple guy so he had to take his time looking at Y/N as she sat in her uniform.

"Are you going to try again?" Chrissy asked, her hand stretched out to her feet

"No," Y/N sighed

"What? But you really like him!" Chrissy gasped

"Chris, it's clear he doesn't like me. I can count the amount of times he said no on two hands. I'm done embarrassing myself. It's a crush, I'll get over it," Y/N shrugged

"Yeah, but you haven't liked a guy in a long time! Are you sure you want to give up?"

"I know you are trying to be a good friend, but you won't change my mind. If he liked me, he would make time work in his apparently busy schedule. I'm probably not his type and that's okay." Y/N explained, mostly trying to make herself feel better.

"You're right, but his loss because I know a ton of single guys who have been asking about you!" Chrissy gushed

Eddie was leaning so far that the door opened and he fell right through. He cussed as he landed on his stomach. The fall caught the girl's attention and he blushed in embarrassment.

"Eddie? Oh my are you okay?" Y/N asked, rushing over

Chrissy was behind her, a look of worry on her face

"I'm good," he said through clenched teeth. He moved to his knees and felt soft hands helping him stand up. Once he was on his feet he wanted to run.

"Were you pushed?" Y/N asked, worried he might have been getting picked on.

Eddie couldn't tell which was less embarrassing

"Uh no, I was eavesdropping, and well karma," he said as he brushed his dirty hands against his jeans. Chrissy nodded and backed away, giving them privacy to talk.

"Oh! So you heard all of that, huh?" Y/N asked, groaning in embarrassment

"Yeah and look I'm sorry I kept rejecting you. I wasn't sure if you were serious or not and I was a little scared," Eddie said

"Scared of what? and why would I be lying?" she asked

"You're popular and I've never had a popular girl take interest in me that wasn't for some type of joke. I figured you were asking me out as a joke or to set me up for something. And I'm sorry for assuming, I didn't know you genuinely like me."

"I can understand that. I hope you know that I'd never do something cruel to anyone. I'm not like that," she explained

"And I believe you. I know I kinda had a million shots to go out with you and I fucked them all up. But can I make it up to you?" he asked, hope in his eyes as she smiled

"Are you asking me out, Eddie?" she teased

"I am," he said as he smiled, "What do you say?"

"I think I'm busy for the whole year, sorry," she said, Eddie stood shocked as she turned around and walked away.

He felt his body slump at the rejection, but he guessed he deserved it. He turned around and headed out of the gym.

He made it down the hall when he heard his name being called, he turned around.

"That's for saying no. But I'd love to go out with you," she said as she walked towards him

"I did deserve that," he laughed but walked towards her, "tonight after practice, we can grab that bite to eat?"

"I'll see you then," she said with a smile. She leaned in and pecked his cheek softly.

Eddie blushed as her lips touched his skin

He watched as she walked back to practice, head in the clouds.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #ashwhowrites #eddie munson x popular reader #eddie munson x cheerleader reader

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simpee9000 · 2 months ago

Text

You Were A Dream ~T. Amajiki

Blurb Idea Description : Tamaki was always shy, but with you? He was doing everything he never expected. All with his best friend's sister. it felt like the words cruel joke on him. Yet for you, it was all sunshine and rainbows. Word Count : 20k (Omfg) Warnings : Angst, Smut, First Times in all but home run (lmk if more)

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The past couple of days have been a headache. You had a presentation to do with Tamaki soon, yet all Mirio did while Tamaki was over was yap.

"Mirio," you rubbed at your temple. Head in your hands, elbows on the table.

"Yes?" he chirped, turning his attention off Tamaki.

"Can you please go?" you nodded your head in the direction of his room.

He gave you an odd look, "Why?"

You rolled your eyes. It was obvious he was trying to see why you wanted to be alone with Tamaki. It was obvious enough for Tamaki to shift uncomfortably. "I have a presentation to do, now please?"

"Why can't I sit on the couch?" he questioned, voice still cheery as he somewhat glared at you.

"All you're doing is distracting us, please? I don't want to have to go do this at a cafe or his apartment," you gave Tamaki an apologetic look for your insanely overprotective brother. He's known Tamaki since elementary school, there is no reason he shouldn't trust you alone.

"Alright," Mirio gave a look of distaste, "My door will be open, though!"

With your nuisance of a brother gone, with only the motion of him pointing two fingers at you, then his eyes, telling you he was watching you.

"Sorry," you mumbled to Tamaki, reshuffling your papers again so you could get back to work, "I don't know why he's like that."

"It's fine," his eyes were turned to the papers, not wanting to acknowledge anything.

"Maybe next time we should go to yours," you half-joked, but it was filled with hope, "Would keep us on task."

"Oh, um-" his eyes darted around the room, turning his eyes to Mirio's door, "I don't know-"

You laughed off his unwillingness, "I get it, don't worry."

"I just- I've never really had a girl in my apartment before," he whispered once he was sure Mirio wasn't listening. He didn't want the blonde to get any ideas.

"Really?" you looked at his embarrassed expression in shock, "What about Hado? Aren't you dating?"

"What?" he squeaked, "No! Y- Mirio is dating her."

"What?!" you hissed, "That's who's been over recently," you made a look in disgust.

"Do you not like her-"

"No, I love her- just I've heard things from his room," you cringed.

"Oh."

"I thought you were dating her-"

"No," he rushed.

You saw Mirio slip his head through the wall, "Mirio!"

"I couldn't hear you! Why are you guys being so quiet?" he eyed you.

"Tamaki just told me you're dating Hado!" you glared at him.

"Sorry!"

You shot Mirio a long glare before brushing off the conversation, saving it for later when Tamaki wasn't in the middle of it.

With how you went to school with them all, you were shocked you never knew they were dating. You always thought Hado and Tamaki were dating, blinded somewhat by how you thought Tamaki was unavailable. It was obvious Mirio was dating her. They spent lunch together and met each other parents officially. All the typical dating things.

The situation gave you a headache, so after only cleaning up a few slides to your presentation, you called in a night, saying goodbye to Tamaki so you could finally shower and sleep.

"Sis," Mirio called your attention after you were trying to step off to the bathroom.

"Hm?"

"Don't," he warned, odd to see off his usually happy personality, " do anything with him while I'm gone."

You huffed, "I have a project with him."

"Public places only," he crossed his arms, trying to give a stern lecture like your dad would.

"You're not Dad," you rolled your arms, matching how he crossed his arms, "plus, you know Tamaki, I don't get why you're weird about it."

"I still want to be in the know if you start talking like that," Mirio explained, "he's proven himself as a friend- I just don't know how I feel about him dating you."

"Oh my god," you groaned in embarrassment, "He doesn't see it like that."

"You don't know how guys think-"

"Shut up," you huffed.

"Hado thought I liked her as a friend too," he pointed out.

You caught onto the subject change, "When did you even start dating?"

"Once we graduated."

"Mirio! I haven't known for three years!"

"Sorry!"

"Oh, I can't wait till you're out of the country," you glared at him, annoyed at how he wanted to know everything but not tell everything.

"Hey!"

The break from him would be amazing. He'd be gone for god knows how long, and you'd finally have a breath of fresh air. With him out of the apartment, you'd have free range.

Only a couple of days. That's all you told yourself when he was bugging you and Tamaki while you were working.

When Mirio was finally gone, it felt like the best thing possible. You've lived with him since you were in the womb. You might be twins, but you weren't identical. He took after your dad mainly while you followed your mom's genetic line. Similar quirk, though.

Led you to spend almost every waking moment with him. Going to the same school, living very similar paths. Having all the same friends. Everything was always together, so you decided to continue that path and get an apartment together, feeling it'd be weird to be far away from dad without him.

You loved Mirio, but god was he a pain in the ass. He'd leave stuff everywhere, and god forbid he had a girl over. Anything you heard was against your will, and so was anything you saw. Now knowing it was all Hado made you gag. So, with him gone, you were free. Free to live in your apartment as if it was fully your own.

It led to nasty habits, and you'll admit it. Leaving dishes out longer, throwing clothes anywhere, and listening to TV way too loud late at night. It made you feel like you lived in the dorms again, your own private space.

Yet even with the freedom of him gone, you didn't want to move out quite yet. Though you told him you didn't want to leave home too quickly, the main reason was Tamaki. Something about him made you want to stick around a bit longer. You got along well, and he was one of your closest friends, but the main reason he was that close was because Mirio made it happen.

So you weren't going to move away from your main source to him.

Sometimes, your interactions with him made you feel delusional. Overthinking any interaction with him. Thinking he felt comfortable around you or that he looked at you softer.

You only had rare chances to see him one-on-one. Sure, you had work, but that only had team-ups every once in a while. You wanted to see him in a social but private setting that didn't work.

Even though they were rare, and Mirio wasn't home, you were assigned to work on an office presentation for your PR management. Tamaki and you were the cleanest PR heroes in your office, so they wanted you to work together to explain how to achieve that.

It was finally in the step you wanted, so you weren't going to listen to Mirio's warnings. You were just hopeful he didn't tell Tamaki the same out of kindness.

Yet now, before you were even ready, Tamaki was knocking at your door while you were fighting with your top to get over your head.

"You have a key, right?" you called out through your sweater.

"Yeah?" you heard his meep voice peak past the door.

"Come in, just give me two seconds!" you rushed out of view, determined to make yourself presentable as you tripped into the bathroom.

The sound of the door opening caught your attention once you got your shirt settled. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah!" you stepped out of the bathroom once you gave yourself a once over, completely out of breath from how much you rushed. You've spent the past two hours getting ready for him.

"Your face is red- are you sure you're doing okay?" he eyed you wearily.

"I'm fine," you smiled, stepping past him to get yourself a glass of water, "You excited about the presentation?" you joked while digging out your filtered water in the fridge.

"I-um was hoping you'd-"

"I know," you glanced at him, "I was joking."

"Oh."

You swallowed awkwardly. Normally, Mirio provided a filler for the two of you. "I'm excited to work with you, though, relieving to be paired with someone I actually know."

"Mhm," he rocked on his heels, looking around your apartment as if it was his first time there. Looking at it in a new light without Mirio in it.

You took a sip from your glass before making your way to the living room, grabbing your files from the counter as you walked. "Might as well throw ourselves into it," you spoke out loud as you started setting up papers in an orderly manner on the coffee table.

"Yeah," he mumbled, following your steps into the living room, and sitting down next to the coffee table before you.

With the idea of having the apartment to yourself, you hyped yourself together, wanting to make a move, even the slightest one, while Mirio was gone.

You went to sit down, strategically placing your hand on his shoulder to make it easier to sit down, "Sorry, bad knees," you joked off the casual touch, "Hero work makes you old."

His face flushed slightly, "I get it."

The delusional thoughts started kicking in again, scratching at the part of your brain that screamed that he liked you back.

"I can't believe we present tomorrow," you chose to dart to a conversation before your brain raced too far ahead.

"Yeah, I hope it goes well," Tamaki folded his hands in his lap.

"It will," you gave him a soft smile, "We have all the slides done. We just need to add some details. Honestly surprised we got anything done with Mirio around."

"Mhm," he agreed softly.

"Next time, we definitely have to go to your apartment," you turned away from his reaction, your words escaping your mouth before you thought.

You heard the fabric of his clothes shift as he shrugged, "If you want to- Not sure what Mirio would think."

Not willing to get into the headspace of your brother, you moved your focus to the presentation, "What do we add here?"

Tamaki shifted slightly, the idea of work clouding his anxious demeanor for a second as he leaned over your shoulder to explain the next step.

Close interactions happened between you often, even without a thought. It was something Mirio commented on often, but you only noticed without his extra presence.

You thought back to when Tamaki was sharing his favorite book, huddled over your shoulder as he helped you flip to his favorite chapter.

It's the main reason you thought he liked you.

So, with Mirio gone for the foreseeable future, you have to soak in the full glow of the interactions. Even during the first presentation of many.

"Suneater," you placed your hand on his bicep lightly, "Charted the amount of interviews and rates for us on this graph." You looked to the screen as you let your hand fall, ignoring his flustered look to continue the presentation.

You snuck in as many of those light interactions as possible without suspicion.

Clearly getting away with it when at the end of the presentation a sidekick you couldn't remember the name of, approached you.

"You can't believe all that," he said in a cocky tone.

"Hm?" you turned to face him, drawing your eyes away from where Tamaki stood.

"The public doesn't give you a good rating just because of your donations," he crossed his arms, "In your research, you had to of seen that half your voting audience is males."

Understanding the hostile tone, you crossed your arms as well, "How is that relevant to the presentation?"

"They only give good ratings because they view you as a perfect virgin."

You tried to hide back your look of disgust, "At least they-"

"Excuse me," Tamaki stood by your side, drawing all your agitation out of your expression, "I need to steal her for a moment."

"Well," the sidekick rolled his eyes and looked at you, "If you want to change it, you know where I work."

Now you wanted to gag.

"What did he mean?" Tamaki looked at you confused.

"Nothing," you waved off, "He's just the type of guy I don't want to be anywhere near."

"Oh," Tamaki looked in the direction of the guy.

"What did you need?" you looked up at him, getting rid of any irritation in the comfort of his presence.

"I was just trying to help you get out of that conversation," he admitted shyly.

"I looked that bad, huh?"

"Yeah- well no- Just looked grossed out," he fumbled over his words.

You shrugged, "I was, people like him give me a headache," you grabbed your bag and looked at your phone for the time. "Want to go to the bar? I'd love a drink or something to celebrate our first successful presentation." In honesty, this was nothing to celebrate, but any excuse worked.

"I don't know," he mumbled, face tinging red, "I'm not a huge bar person-"

"Then ramen?" you offered, placing a smile on your face at his slight rejection.

He eyed you carefully for a moment, "Sure- can we go to Fat Gum's?

"Of course," you gestured for him to lead the way.

Ramen was great, Tamaki gushed over how much he loved it but could rarely eat it. It had hardly any protein, so, therefore, nothing to fuel his quirk. He explained it thoroughly. Giving you a different light on how he functioned as a hero.

The two of you talked about all the small things of your lifestyle, filler conversation of what you didn't learn about him throughout the years. A deeper side to him other than just your brother's best friend.

You drank as you talked, buzzing yourselves with the warmth of alcohol. Though you've seen Tamaki drink before, it was easier to tell one-on-one that he was a lot more open when buzzed.

Neither of you was wasted or even touched the aspect of being drunk when you stepped into the warmth of your apartment.

"Thank you for walking me home," you smiled at him as you walked through the door.

"Mhm."

You walked into your kitchen, putting away your small amount of leftovers. "I'm glad we hung out," you mumbled into your fridge, "you know, one on one."

"Me too," he spoke softly.

"We should do it more often," you suggested as you stood up, trying to gauge his reaction.

He flushed slightly and nodded, "I'd like that."

Not wanting to scare him off, you moved onto why he came over, "So you said you've never seen the Silent Voice? It's so good." You turned your TV on.

Tamaki choked out noise and dragged your attention to him, seeing his eyes catch your couch before darting away. Matching his view, you caught your midnight blue bra tossed over the couch, something you missed because it blended into the black couch.

"Oh my god," you grabbed it quickly, throwing it near your room and trying to calm the embarrassment flooding your face. "Sorry, I forgot I left that there," you sighed, "You've probably seen plenty, no big deal," you whispered to yourself. Trying to steady the nerves from the realization that he saw your favorite bra, one you bought with him in mind. You felt bad about it after buying it, but once you tried it on, most guilt melted away.

He gulped, "I actually haven't, but um, it's fine."

You glance at him, curious, "Really?"

His head shook quickly, eyes avoiding you as he tried to casually sit down on the couch that definitely didn't have your bra on it moments ago.

"Not even the one support course girl? In the third year?"

"What?"

"The girl that was all on you."

"I've never dated anyone?" he flushed, trying to clean up the mixup, fumbling over his words.

"Oh, well," you blinked at him, you honestly thought he dated her. Or someone. You've seen all the looks they've shared. "You've had to of seen one in high school."

"Why?" he croaked out, clearly struggling with the conversation. He was probably only able to talk because of the alcohol.

"Tamaki, everyone was head over heels for you," you explain, hiding the jealously, "You didn't take up on any offer?"

"No-" he shook his head again, "I thought they were joking-"

"No," you laughed lightly.

"Oh."

"Did you ever kiss a girl?" You asked, now confused.

"No," he mumbled, embarrassed by every part of this conversation, "Didn't think anyone wanted me that way."

"Don't worry," you comforted, "I didn't do anything in high school either."

"Really?"

"Didn't have the time," you answered his unspoken question, sitting comfortably on the floor in front of the coffee table, "Besides, you and Mirio scared everyone away."

"How?"

"Mirio has a creepy friendly vibe to him-"

"How did I?" Tamaki rushed out after interrupting you.

"You're intimidating. Most thought you liked me or something," you laughed through the pain of him not.

"Oh."

"But if I did," you paused, "I would have been lucky if it was you," you spoke softly, trying to calm your own nerves as you looked at him. His face flushed as he tried to read into what you were saying.

"So you would-" he trailed off.

"If you'd let me," you laughed lightly.

His eyes flickered to your lips, watching over your body language to see if this was in any way a joke. You'd never, but you could regret this.

"Do you want to?" You mumbled, moving slightly closer to him.

He flinched for a moment, taking in the entire situation. Looking over how you anxiously tapped your thumb on the floor and you looked him over as well. His body relaxed slightly, shoulders slouching as he nodded.

Your eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips as you leaned in before you closed them, gently kissing Tamaki. A surge of excitement making you feel giddy, you've wanted this since you were 14, if not before that. And it was better than you expected and anyone else. While he was inexperienced, the emotions of it topped any other kiss you've had.

He briefly let his hand rest softly on your cheek before dropping it in shock at his own actions. Parting his lips from yours to catch his breath.

"I can't believe-"

A stupid ringtone filled the room, blaring off your phone.

When you moved to decline, Tamaki shook his head. Telling you to answer.

"What Mirio?" You asked, annoyed, staring at his bright face on Facetime.

"How was the presentation? I tried to ask Tamaki but he hasn't answered me," Mirio pondered.

Your eyes flashed to Tamaki.

"Is he with you?" Mirio got closer to his screen, looking over your surroundings.

Tamaki nodded at you. "Yeah, he's right next to me. He just walked me home from ramen."

"Ramen? You guys got Ramen together?"

"Yeah?"

"Like a date-"

"No."

You flashed Tamaki, an apologetic smile saying it wasn't a date.

"Mhm- okay," Mirio eyed you for a moment, "Works going great here too-"

Mirio continued to yap about what he's done so far, and how much he loves it all. Asking questions about your presentation before telling Tamaki to go home, so he did. With a flustered goodbye that left you embarrassed to have to talk to Mirio.

"Why do you still need to talk?" you asked when you returned back to your phone.

Mirio sighed, "Look- I don't want to spill Tamaki's secrets but-" he debated for a second, "I'm pretty sure he likes you-"

"What?" you uttered in disbelief.

"I'm only telling you because you're my sister- I don't want you getting his hopes up if you are not interested. I also want you to tell me about this stuff-"

"I don't have to tell you stuff," you mumble. If you ended up dating Tamaki, it'd be unlikely you'd tell him.

He frowned, "I know, just be careful with him?"

"How do you even know he likes me?"

"He's just more comfortable with you," he said honestly, "Don't let him know I told you. He needs to do things on his own time. But with me gone, I don't know how I feel about you guys hanging out one-on-one when he likes you."

"Thanks for telling me, but I'm not going to do anything with him," you said, telling the lie, acting as if you hadn't kissed Tamaki just before he called.

"Good."

You hung up the call, Taking a deep breath before throwing your phone on your bed in excitement. You were Tamaki's first kiss! You made him flustered- which was easy but you did it in a different sense. All great signs. And even Mirio thought he liked you!

Tonight will sit with you forever. You kissed two people before, but Tamaki was easily better. You were over the moon about it.

Adding an extra pep to your step as you went on with your week.

"You seem extra giddy lately," Hado looked over at you as she sipped her boba.

"Huh?" you thought over your actions.

"You got a certain aura to you," she smiled, "Wait!" she gasped, "Did you meet a boy?"

"What?" you paled, "No, I wish!"

She frowned, "Then what is it?"

"The presentation at work is going well- I don't know," you shrugged off poorly, getting away from the topic.

That conversation was one you thought nothing much of. Moving on with your days as you waited for Mirio to come home and ruin your fun and alone time with Tamaki.

When he did finally get home, he was as annoying as ever.

Bothering you when you were just getting a drink from the fridge.

"Sis," Mirio called to you from the living room.

You peeped your head out, seeing him and Tamaki sitting in the living room. Tamaki looking at his hands in his lap rather than at you. "What?" you walked into the living room, stopping to stand next to where Tamaki was sitting.

Mirio's eyes flickered between you too before settling on you, "My coworker asked about you."

"What about?" you asked, sensing Mirio would talk for longer you took a seat on the armrest next to Tamaki. Letting your leg fall and rest next to his. You tried to not act happy that he didn't move away.

"He thinks you're cute," Mirio smiled, "He asked me for your number."

You furrowed your brows, "A guy asked you for my number and you're fine with it?"

Mirio shrugged, "He seems nice, but has only been nice, I think you should give it a try."

"I don't know," you shifted uncomfortably, knocking your legs in Tamaki's causing him to look up at you. His eyes were covered with uncertainty that went away as soon as he shifted to look back down. "I don't think I'm interested."

"Come on, Hado said you wanted a boyfriend-"

You rolled your eyes, of course, she'd snitch or try to set you up. "Yeah, one I actually know, not some random guy you deem fit."

"Please," Mirio frowned, "You didn't like the other person I mentioned. I don't want you to be single forever-"

"I won't be," you huffed.

"Just think about it?"

"Fine."

You walked out of the living room and locked yourself in your room. Deciding to not step foot out of it tonight so you didn't get bugged to date this random guy.

Mirio has always been weird about your dating life. Somehow you avoided the discussion in high school but when you started living and working together, he'd interrupt any conversation you had with a guy. Trying to see if they were good enough.

He even did it with Tamaki, he watched any interaction you had with him. When obviously Tamaki has more than proven himself, Mirio still watches. It's weird.

So when you heard a faint knock at your door at 3 in the morning, you slowly opened it, unsurprised to see Tamaki standing there. (Mirio never knocks and if he does it's loud.)

"What's up?" you asked softly as you let him in, closing the door behind him so Mirio didn't get weird somehow.

Tamaki fidgeted with his hands, avoiding looking at you, "Um- earlier, Mirio said you wanted a boyfriend?"

"Yeah?" you dragged out, moving to sit on your bed and get comfy.

"It's not- you wouldn't date the guy he suggested right?"

You shrugged lightly, "I don't know, I don't want him bugging me."

Tamaki's eyes met yours nervously, "Did the other night not-"

You jumped to your feet, grabbing his hands in yours, "It did. Don't worry, I just- I want more? Like a relationship."

"Oh," he swallowed nervously, brushing his thumb over yours as he watched your hands, "If you let me- I'd want to be more?"

The feelings rushing through you were forcing a smile to your face, "Yeah?"

He looked up, "Yeah, will you-," he whispered an 'oh my god' as he choked over his words briefly, "Will you go on date with me?"

"Will I get another kiss?" you flirted, leaning into his body slightly.

His face shot bright red- "oh-um-I don't know."

"Time will tell then," you dismissed the topic, not wanting him to feel like there was an expectation.

Tamaki looked toward the door, "I should," he pointed to the door.

"That's probably for the best, you have my number so text me," you smiled at him. He gave a short nod before awkwardly leaving the room.

Him asking you out shocked you. Sure, Mirio told you he thought Tamaki liked you, but it was never confirmed. While you wanted to kill Hado for telling your brother you wanted a boyfriend, you are so fucking glad she did.

Because now, a week later, you were at ramen with him.

Fussing over work topics like normal before you started to get to know each other a little bit more. The last time you shared dinner felt like a practice date, so you're glad this one was similar. He mainly let you talk, but he shared his opinions and answered any questions. Asking his fair share of questions as well.

Even he ended the date by walking you home.

"I can't believe you haven't seen any of the hero movies from America," you feigned shock as you walked the hallway to the door of your apartment.

"Aren't they all just reenactments of actual heroes?"

"Well yeah- but they are still cool. You have to watch them with me," you stopped in front of the door, "It'll be our next date?"

His face brightened for a moment, previously filled with nerves since you left the restaurant. "If you want to- I have a nice TV," he indirectly invited you to his apartment.

"So," you rocked on your heels, waiting out the minutes before you had to go into you're apartment, "How should we end this one?"

Tamaki's eyes flashed to your lips, then to the door and back again, "You're not worried?"

"Mh, not really," you swayed into him, you've been waiting to kiss him again since you kissed the first time.

He gulped, "I don't know what I'm doing-"

"Tamaki," you spoke softly, "Just do what feels right."

His eyes flickered away for a moment before he settled back on you. "I want to," he confirmed. You only nodded again to give him the full go-ahead. Seeing him lean in slightly before you moved to meet him halfway. Missing his lips slightly with a small giggle, before he could pull away with embarrassment, you softly moved your hands to his cheeks. Directing his face to kiss his lips properly with yours this time.

You felt him smile into the kiss, your hands falling onto his shoulders and feel him relax in your hold.

"Okay," you whispered after pulling away, "I should get inside."

"Mhm," he hummed deeply.

"I'll see you soon, right?" You twisted the door handle.

"Yeah," his voice was deeper than before, his eyes more lidded. Clearly absorbed into the kiss you just shared.

"Okay," you giggled lightly, "goodnight.

"Goodnight."

Shutting that door behind you was difficult, a permanent smile smeared across your face. The budding relationship was good, and you could tell it'd stay that way.

"How was your date?"

You jumped, turning away from the door, "Jesus- Mirio you can't do that," you placed your hand on your heart.

"How was it?" he laughed off your scare.

"Good, he's super sweet," you said, giving your honest opinion, "I know I haven't been on many dates, but that's a permanent favorite."

Mirio smiled, "I'm glad, when do I get to meet him?"

You fumbled your words, forgetting you lied for a moment, "I don't know, I really just want the relationship to be between me and him for a while. Plus, I don't think he's ready for you to know."

"What? Why?" he asked, as if distraught.

"You're intimidating," you laughed, "you're not just number five hero for nothing."

"Is that why he's scared?"

You shrugged, "I haven't asked much."

"What's his name?"

"Aoto," you shot out a random name.

"His job?"

"He's a pro too."

"Great! Have I met him?"

"Maybe once or twice," you smiled as you turned away.

He stopped after too many questions. He did this after every single date you went on, and you went on many. Bingeing American movies between restaurant dates, and soon enough you were officially boyfriend and girlfriend.

Mirio constantly mentioned it, once you told him. Especially in front of Tamaki.

"How's your boyfriend?" Mirio asked when you stepped into his hero office.

"Huh?" you asked, sharing a look with Tamaki.

"We were talking relationships," Mirio stated as if that helped clear the question.

"He's good, I haven't gotten the chance to talk to him today," you took a seat next to Tamaki in the chairs Mirio had in his office.

"You have a date tonight right?" Mirio asked.

You rolled your eyes, "Yes, I've told you this."

Mirio ignored you, turning his attention to Tamaki, "You should get a girlfriend!"

"Huh?" Tamaki choked, ripping his eyes off you to look at Mirio.

"It'd be good for you to get out there."

"What's with you and setting people up?" you laughed at Mirio. The second he didn't have to pester you to date, he went to bug Tamaki.

"It'd be good for him," Mirio looked at you, turning to Tamaki, "Could help you get over some things."

"I- um actually," Tamaki shared a look with you, "I have a date tonight."

You panicked for a second, worried Mirio might connect things.

"Really?"

"I also- have a um- girlfriend-"

"What the fuck?" Mirio blinked in shock.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you- I was just trying to make sure things were actually happening," Tamaki blurted apologetically.

"It's fine- just wow," Mirio laughed, "I'm happy for you- I thought you liked someone else."

You smiled, knowing the meaning and knowing that it was true.

Mirio stopped torturing you guys like that after a while, letting your relationship together progress naturally all under his nose.

Even when Tamaki would come over, you'd get small moments alone together.

That was especially nice on the rough days.

With Mirio busy showering, you answered the door. Smiling softly at Tamaki's slightly surprised face.

"Hey," you mumbled, stepping slightly so he could come inside.

He furrowed his brows, "What's wrong?"

You looked over your shoulder, checking to see if Mirio somehow left the bathroom without you hearing. With the coast clear, you stepped into Tamaki's space, softly closing the door behind you to give an extra layer of privacy. Before you stretched your arms out for a hug, instantly pulled into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

"What happened?" he rested his chin on your head, squeezing you a little tighter.

"Just," you sighed out, "A bad day, no real reason." You answered truthfully, it was just an exhausting day.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, rubbing your back.

"It's fine," you buried your face into his shoulder, taking in the small smell of his cologne and smiling at the blush creeping up his neck. "How late are you staying tonight?" you asked.

"Not sure- why," he answered quietly.

"Well, I'd love to call you tonight before bed," you looked up at him, the two of you often called before going to sleep. You both shared a horrid sleeping schedule so you were able to call free of interruptions. Mainly sitting in silence and enjoying the presence of the other. And tonight was a night where you felt like you needed that.

"I'll be home before you go to sleep," Tamaki confirmed your plans instantly, clearly loving your routine together.

"Thank you," you mumbled, snuggled back into him, "I hate that you're so close but so far."

"I'm sorry," his shoulders slumped, clearly feeling guilty.

"Not your fault," you pulled back, looking up at him.

"I know," he mumbled sadly, looking down at you, "Just- I wish I didn't put you through this.

You shook your head, "it's worth it."

He looked at you softly, eyes practically shining as he looked at you, briefly falling to your lips before shooting back up to your eyes.

"Kiss?" you asked, sensing his idea that you knew he would be too embarrassed to ask. You did this each time, and it shocked him every time.

He nodded lightly, bending his head down to yours.

Giving you a light peck before you asked for more. Laying a light peck into a kiss into another kiss. Slowly kissing him over and over until you were softly making out against your apartment door, for the first time as well.

Your knees were weak as you moved your hands to rest on the back of his neck, keeping him close as the blood was rushing to your head.

The distinct background noise of your water pipe stopped, cluing you in that Mirio was done showering, so you pulled away.

"You should get inside before he asks questions," you smiled as you pulled away.

"Mhm," he nodded, face entirely flushed.

You ushered him inside, going into the kitchen while he made himself comfy on the couch, acting as if nothing happened, even though his entire face was painted red.

"You good Tamaki?" Mirio asked when he saw Tamaki's flushed expression.

"Uh- Yeah."

"You sure?"

Tamaki's eyes flashed to you for a second before he looked down.

"Do you not want her to hear?" Mirio pointed at you.

"No! No- it's not that- just um- my girlfriend just- um-"

"Ohhh," Mirio wiggled his eyebrows.

You poured yourself a drink as you watched Tamaki cover his face with a pillow. "Mirio, leave em alone," you laughed.

"I wanna know what she did, don't you?"

Tamaki just kept himself under the pillow, clearly miserable. "Probably just texted him that she loved him or something," you shrugged, trying to cover for him, and not wanting Mirio to question about it.

"Aw! Did she?" Mirio swooned.

The pillow was finally dropped from his face when he gave Mirio a nod, "Can we switch topics now?"

And switched topics they did. You went to your room and busied yourself, pretending that the hallway to your apartment didn't just become your favorite space, until Tamaki called and the two of you fell asleep together.

Small moments like that opened your attraction to him to a new light. Tamaki was truly always there for you. Any time you were upset, he kicked himself out of his anxious habits and helped you, it was truly the hero in him.

The two of you have always been close. With Mirio no longer supervising you hanging out, you were able to get even closer together and it meant the world to you.

You've always been curious about the type of person Tamaki was, and Mirio did not lie in the slightest. Tamaki was the most kind-hearted person you've ever met.

The interactions between friends made it obvious you were dating, but apparently everyone was blind.

"I can't believe you had a crush on All Might!" you shook with laughter after weakly slapping Hado.

She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink, "Shouldn't be surprising, I mean look at Mirio."

"Still! He's like 80," you cringed playfully, feeling the alcohol from the night buzzing under your skin.

Mirio was laughing next to Hado, poking fun along with you.

"Well you liked Hawks," Hado pointed at you with a slight blush on her face.

You paled, "This isn't about me!"

"You always go on about how confident and hot he is," Hado added to your secret.

Tamaki shifted in his seat next to you.

"He's only like four years older than us," you huffed, "Unlike All Might."

"I only liked young All Might, not him now," Hado frowned.

You let out a laugh, moving yourself to get comfortable in your seat on the couch, "Still, he's ancient."

The group of you have been drinking since you got off work, supposed to have a movie night at Hado's but it just turned into talking, something all of you need. Just getting your minds away from your hero work and acting like teenagers again.

Mirio and Hado shared the loveseat while you and Tamaki shared the bigger couch yet shared the same space. You curled next to the armrest so you could talk closer to Hado and Tamaki was in the middle seat, with no care as your shin rested against his thigh. Even though Mirio gave him an odd look. Yet you were too into the conversation to care.

"So you wouldn't bang young All Might?" Hado asked you with her brow raised.

"No!" you laughed loudly.

"He's basically like Hawks though," she pouted at the fact you couldn't see her side, "just a lot more buff."

You looked at your brother who was just staring at Hado as if she said something magical, "You're just gonna let her talk about banging other dudes?"

Mirio shrugged, "Everyone has thoughts, she's not going to do anything. Plus it was a thing of the past."

"Yeah," Hado gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, you cringed for a moment. "But you like Hawks, do you just like them more confident?"

You shrugged, "I don't know? He just is easy to talk to."

"Oh my god! I forgot you talked to him," she gasped.

"What?" Mirio's eyes snapped to you.

"Not like that-"

"Yes like that," Hado interrupted you, "He gave you his number!"

"What-" Tamaki uttered quietly next to you.

Your eyes flickered to him for a second, "Like two years ago. He gave it to me for work."

"Yeah, that's why he used his personal number," Hado teased, "Do you still have it? Are you dating him?"

Your eyes just about popped out of your head, "No! I am not dating him!"

"So you still have his number?"

"I mean- yeah, I don't use it thought," you shrugged, suddenly feeling guilty even though you genuinely forgot you even had his number.

"You should so text him," Hado clapped her hands enthusiastically.

"I have a boyfriend," you said appalled, wanting to throw up at the idea of what Tamaki was thinking right now.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him! Come on you should see if he kept it," Hado inched closer to you, eyes bright with ideas.

You looked at Mirio for help, "I hope you don't think that way for your relationship."

Hado blinked, "Of course not. I've been with Mirio for ages though. You're relationship hardly seems serious. I mean, none of us have met him and your dad hasn't either."

Guilt was all that was on your mind, "It is serious, I like him a lot."

"But you don't love him," Hado pointed out, "It's obvious you're not proud of it, you'd be proud of Hawks though."

This was getting on your nerves, all the alcohol fading from your senses. You looked away for a moment, trying to ease your emotions and locking your eyes with Tamaki. He wouldn't even look at you.

"Got it!" Hado cheered next to you, typing in your phone like it was hers.

"Hado!"

"I texted him!"

Your heart dropped, "What the fuck."

"Come on, it isn't that serious," Mirio said, seeing how your entire mood vanished.

You snatched your phone from her hands and saw the message on the screen.

Hey, how you been?

Sent to Hawks.

You looked at Tamaki, he just had a blank reaction on his face.

"Hado!" you snapped your head to her, "That is not okay to do!"

"It's fine," Hado tried to calm you down, "You can just tell your boyfriend that I did it. He has to understand celebrity crushes."

"Trust me, he'll know you did it. Doesn't make it okay."

"Every guy has crushes, he'll understand," Hado smiled at you, rolling her eyes at your reaction.

"Yeah, but he isn't making moves on them," you glared.

"He would if he could," she shrugged. You didn't even know how to take that statement but before you could process it, she turned to Tamaki, "You have a celebrity crush right?"

"What- why does that matter- I don't-"

"Trying to prove a point, you liked Mt. Lady a little bit right?"

"I- um- I guess, but not anymore- I have a-"

"A girlfriend I know," she cut him off again, turning to you, "See, everyone has crushes."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean they have their crush's number in their phone," you shot back.

"Anyway!" Mirio called out loudly, not likely the argument that was coming up, "It's getting late, you guys should head home."

You huffed, glaring at Hado and your brother, "Gladly." You got up and Tamaki followed slowly behind.

Mirio waved you two out, not even saying anything but giving a sad smile towards you.

When you got the the elevator, safe from other ears, you turned to Tamaki, "I am so sorry-"

"It's fine," he mumbled, looking down at his feet, "I don't want to talk about it."

The usual fumble of his words was gone, too into his head already to care how he spoke.

"I swear Tamaki-"

"I know," he glanced at you, giving you a reassuring smile that hardly helped.

Even when he walked you to your door, he just left. Not staying the night like it was planned.

Things were officially worse than you thought.

Before you even got to go to bed, your phone buzzed.

Great, now that you texted. Long time no talk, missing me? ;)

Just when things couldn't get worse, Hawks just had to text.

You deleted the chats before talking a shower to sleep. Texting Tamaki that you were sorry once again. Talking about previous crushes was already weird to talk about in his presence, but to actually text them was horrid.

Through the next couple days, you tried to reach out to Tamaki, getting ignored for the most part. He even refused to come over, which had Mirio thinking he was sick.

Yet when you softly knocked on his office, you were greeted with his clearly healthy, if not tired, face when you stepped inside.

He kept his eyes on his desk as spoke, "Sorry, I was just finishing this project up-," when he looked up his eyes widened as he whispered your name.

"Hey," you closed the door softly, walking up to his desk and standing on the opposite side from him, crossing your arms so you didn't mess with your hands, "Mirio thinks you're sick."

His eyes fell in shame, "Sorry."

"I'm not mad at you," you uncrossed your arms, "Just worried. You haven't been talking to me- you haven't even stopped by since."

He looked like a wreck in all the ways that were only noticeable to you. His eyes were more tired than normal, dark circles giving clear evidence of how little sleep he got. The normal hero suit he had on had rips over the cape, him clearly not caring enough to replace it. One thing that was good about his quirk, is that it forced him to eat, so you didn't have to worry in that regard.

"I know," he looked up at you, shoulders slouched and head still down, barely making eye contact through his bangs. "Everything just became a lot."

"Do you not want to anymore?" you shifted how you were standing, trying to prepare yourself for what he'd say next.

"No- I mean- I want to continue dating- just- I don't know," he groaned in frustration over how he fumbled his words, "Are you serious about me?"

Hado saying your relationship wasn't serious, was the biggest lie you ever heard, so for it to be effecting Tamaki, made you feel horrible. "I am, very," you nodded aggressively, "Tamaki, you mean the world to me."

His eyes stayed on the papers that lay on his desk, "So you're proud of us?"

"Of course," you basically pleaded, grabbing his hands over the desk that lay clenched at his sides, "Very, I'd show you off if I could."

"Hm," he squeezed your hands back.

"I mean it," you tugged on his hands lightly, making him look you in the eye.

"Can I-" he paused, gathering the courage, "Can I meet your dad?"

"Huh? You've met him before?" you tilted your head.

"No- I meant like, as your" he looked down shyly again, whispering now, " your boyfriend."

"Oh," you smiled, "Oh course, he'd love you."

"Are you sure?" he looked back up at you.

"He already does, he'd just be happier," you confirmed, "he always wanted us to end up together, believe it or not."

Tamaki's face flushed, "Oh. Do you think it's a good idea?"

"Don't worry, he won't tell Mirio," you reassured. Taking your hands out of his so you could place your stuff down. Taking your phone out of your pocket and placing it next to your purse on his desk.

You walked over to his side of the desk, wrapping him in a hug.

"I'm glad you want to meet him, in that way," you mumbled into him, "I'm sorry that this is the way your meeting him, though."

"Hm," Tamaki wrapped his arms around you, soaking in the comfort of your embrace after depriving himself of it for a week. .

"Nothing said that night was true," you wanted to clear up any insecurity that he could have from that night. Wanting him to have no reason to feel afraid.

He hugged you tighter, "Thank you."

You pulled back from the hug, placing a small kiss on his lips, surprising him. "I only have eyes for you."

The soft smile that traced his face made you feel like you fell in love with him all over again.

"So will you be coming over again?" you played with the hair at the base of his neck, arms still wrapped around each other.

He nodded softly, indigo hair fluffing out around your fingers. He was glowing in this light. The sun casting through the windows to highlight his features just right. You looked over him briefly, causing him to go red in the face and down his neck at you obviously checking him out.

"I haven't really seen you in your hero suit this close-up," you mentioned, taking in the way it highlighted his arms.

He shifted, "Yeah."

"Looks good," you looked up at him through your lashes.

Being away from him, if only for a week, made you more bold. "Yeah?" he practically melted at the compliment.

"Mhm," you hummed, leaning into your tip-toes so you could press your lips to his.

Softly connecting your lips as if you were reminding yourself what they felt like. Humming softly against him in the process.

You were getting worked up just at the feeling of him, stepping closing into his as you tilted your head to the side, anything to get closer.

The back of his knees hit his chair lightly, wheeling it back slightly before he moved his arm to catch it before it got too far. Wheeling it back under him so he could sit, taking you with him without breaking the kiss, sitting you in his lap.

His confidence had you reeling, hands pulling his head back so you could deepen the kiss, trailing your tongue to meet his. His hands tracing over your waist to pull you closer. Goosebumps rising under your clothes at the action. He bit at your lip, the first time he's ever been so forward, a soft moan slipping from you in reaction.

"Tama," you uttered, breath lost and body lost in the feeling of the kiss, your hips rolling against his.

He stopped kissing you, eyes wide as he looked at you, hands holding your hips steady. "I don't-" he fumbled, "In my office?"

You were basically delirious with how he kissed you, dipping your head down so you could trail kisses down his neck, "Why," you faded out, "why not?"

"Someone could walk in," he tensed, but still tilting his head to give you better access.

"Doubt it," you mumbled, trailing back up to kiss his lips.

He groaned quietly, "Hm," he hummed, losing all the fight he had as you licked into his mouth. Losing the grip he had on your hips, letting you free as he moved his hands up and down your waist.

Every time you had made out before this, he was always so hesitant. You were almost thankful for the actions of Hado that made this happen.

Taking his spike of confidence and shifting your hands from his hair to his arms. Getting a whine of disagreement before you squeezed at his biceps. Trailing down to hike his hands up higher, right underneath the wire of your bra.

You let your hands work back up his arms, weaving one into his hair and the other on his pec. Pulling on his hair just like he liked while appreciating his body at the same time. This was the closest you've gotten after all.

His hands stayed where you placed them for a moment, only moving after you ground your hips down into his again. His confidence was high when a moan a surprise left your lips. You didn't expect him to actually do it, just mainly hoped after you offered.

He palmed at your tits while you kissed him sloppily, mind drunk off him with hardly anything being given. It was just what he did to you. Sometimes you felt stupid around him with how he made you feel. You could only imagine how brain-dead you'd be around him when you actually fucked.

You've only wanted this since you knew what it was.

You wanted to savor it all, every shaky breath he let out, and every squeeze of his hands. Even if he stopped here, you'd die happy.

Makeouts that lead nowhere lit a fire under you, and that's how each makeout with him has gone. You could be kissing for hours without noticing the passing of time. However slow this relationship was, you'd be happy to match its pace.

You pulled apart, needing the slightest bit of air but gaining none. Losing your breath just at the sight of him. Lips red and plush, hair messier than usual, heavy breaths rising his chest under your hand while his eyes were locked on his hands that laid on your chest.

His eyes flickered up to meet your eyes, his hands slowing their movement to just lay over your tits.

"What?" he husked out, eyes lidding.

You smiled down at him, "You're so fuckin hot."

His face was red before but it went brighter at your comment, "I- oh."

You wanted to frown at the lost in his confidence but you didn't want to make it worse.

His eyes shot to his door, "I think we should- um- cool it."

"Okay," you mumbled, kissing him lightly as you got up from his lap, leaning on the edge of his desk instead while you tried not to notice the tent in his pants.

He wheeled the chair closer, looking up at you before shyly looking down, "Sorry."

"It's fine," you said honestly, smoothing his hair down.

He moved his chair closer, letting his head rest on your stomach while you ran your hands through his hair softly. His hands reached for the back of your thighs, massaging them slightly. "I know you want more-"

"Tama," you moved your hands to his jaw, guiding him to look up at you, "It's okay, I promise. You're all I need."

"Okay," he mumbled, looking back down. You were standing between his legs as he messed with the fabric of your outfit.

Your phone buzzed next to you. Both your attentions' turned to the message displayed on the screen.

You drunk text me didnt u? Too shocked that I replied?

Hawks double texting you was not even an idea you thought possible.

"Did you- did you text him more?" Tamaki eyed you, sitting normally in his chair now, no longer touching you.

"No," you furrowed your eyebrows, "He double texted."

"Hawks?" he asked, doubting you.

"Yeah," you picked up your phone, offering to show him the texts.

"I don't want to be the person that has to look at your texts to prove something," he shook his head, voice unwavering as his eyes turned dim.

You frowned, "That's not what I was saying- I'm just going to tell him what happened."

"Tell him you had a crush on him?"

"No- not that- just that Hado texted him," you mumbled, shifting awkwardly at how upset Tamaki was.

"Hm."

You sighed, typing away a text-

Sorry, my friend texted you when she was drunk

"I don't want Hawks," you tried to comfort.

Tamaki just sighed, turning to look out the window instead.

Sure, sweety, why was I mentioned?

The boy in front of you ignored the sound of your phone.

My friends stupid, thought it'd be funny if I flirted with you when I have a boyfriend.

You didn't want Hawks to get the slightest idea that you would want him back.

Oh, wtf lol. Ur friend is weird as fuck for that

I aint that guy

Letting out a sigh of relief caught Tamaki's attention.

"Hawks is officially out," you told him, even though that wasn't the entire issue.

Tamaki gave you an odd look, one you couldn't analyze the reason behind before you heard the door click open.

"Tamaki!" Mirio's voice cheered as he entered. Pausing when he saw you, "Sis?"

"Hi," you stood up and faced him, "Whatcha doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" Mirio looked between you and Tamaki.

"You said he was sick, I was worried," you shrugged.

Mirio hummed, giving you another weird look before turning his attention to Tamaki, "You okay? You don't look too good."

"Hm?" Tamaki looked uninterest when he looked back at Mirio, it sent a pang to your heart.

"Did something happen?" Mirio looked between you two. The guilt you felt was probably written across your face.

"No, just a long day," Tamaki answered for you.

"Ah," Mirio nodded in understanding, "Bad time to tell you that we have patrol?"

"No," Tamaki shook his head, standing up and grabbing his visor, "Great timing."

"Oh good!" Mirio smiled, oblivious to the dig at you.

You scratched your arms awkwardly, not knowing what to do with yourself knowing you were no longer wanted.

Mirio smiled at you when you cleared your throat, about to make your exit. "Oh, Hado wants me to invite you to dinner, to apologize for the other night," he pleaded with his eyes for you to accept.

"Oh, um, I don't know Mirio," your eyes flashed to Tamaki. You were still upset with what she did. After all, the effects of it still haven't gone away.

"Tamaki, you should go too," Mirio smiled at him, "It'll be a little redo."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Come on guys, please?" Mirio put on his classic puppy eyes, basically forcing the two of you to say yes.

So even though you ended on bad terms earlier in the day, and have yet to talk about any of it, you were sat next to each other for dinner.

Fidgeting with your straw as you listened to Hado nag at him. You felt horrible for him but you could hardly focus on the conversation as your head ran through what went down earlier.

"Come on," Hado begged, "You haven't told us anything!"

"I- I don't know," Tamaki shrunk in on himself. Sinking into his seat in the booth you guys shared. Tamaki barely agreed to this tonight, and now he was getting questioned.

"Guys-" you tried to help despite what happened earlier.

"Shush, you're next," Hado pointed at you, "Both of you haven't told us anything about your relationships."

"Not true," Tamaki mumbled into his collar, "I've told Mirio some stuff."

"Hardly," Mirio laughed as if this was all in good fun, ignoring your sharp glare, "You've just me some of your issues."

"Huh?" you turned your gaze to Tamaki, not believing he ran to your brother.

"No- Not like that, I haven't had any issues-"

"Come on Tamaki, it's okay to admit. Every couple has issues-"

"We haven't argued- I have no issues-"

"You struggle to tell her stuff, plus you clearly had issues with what you've told me," Mirio pointed out, shrugging as he laid back in his seat.

"No-"

"Just today you said that you're worried she's talking to someone else."

"What?" you paled, looking at Tamaki in shock.

Tamaki's eyes flashed to yours and back to Mirio's, "I- um."

Though frustrated, you didn't want to bring this up here. You tried to tell him earlier but apparently a longer conversation was needed.

"That and you can't fully connect with her because of how anxious you are," Mirio added on top of it all.

"Mirio," you hissed, "Knock it off, his business doesn't need to be exposed." You also didn't want to hear any more of it, not from him.

"It's hardly exposing-"

"You're being a dick, I don't care you're intentions," you glared.

Mirio shut his mouth and gave Tamaki a sad smile, turning his attention fully to you instead, "Well what about you?"

"Me?"

"How's your boyfriend? You never talk about him."

"You never talked about Hado?" you shot back, already upset.

Mirio shrugged, "I did, just not about our relationship. Come on, how is he?"

You rolled your eyes, "I'm not gonna be home tonight, I'm going to his place."

Tamaki let out a confused noise.

"You seem mad," Hado pointed out, concerned.

"Oh," you tried to calm yourself, "I'm just not sure he and I are on the same road right now."

Mirio and Hado both gave you a sad face as Tamaki looked at you as if he was terrified. As if he didn't already agree. He thought you were cheating, clearly you weren't on the same path.

"I'm sorry," Hado placed her hand on yours, " I hope I didn't have anything to do with it. I'm here for you if you need me."

"Huh?"

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Mirio asked softly.

"What? No," you huffed, "I'm going to go-"

"I'm sorry," Tamaki mumbled, shyly watching as you shuffled out of the booth.

You glance back at him, before talking to the group, "I'll see you guys later."

While you wanted to stay back and be there to make sure Tamaki wasn't questioned further, you couldn't stick around to hear anymore.

Your adrenalin was pumping as you walked to Tamaki's apartment. Hands tight around your sleeves as you paced the span of his hallway.

Everything that happened today was too much. First time you talked to your boyfriend in a week, then you kiss him, then your old crush texts you, and then he thinks you're cheating. You scoffed out loud.

"You okay?"

You spun to the sound of a voice, "Oh- Hi Kirishima," you smiled at the redhead.

"You seem upset?" he tilted his head like a puppy.

"I- Don't worry about it, I'm fine," you brushed him off.

"Did Amajiki upset you?"

You blinked at him for a second, forgetting briefly that just because those close to you didn't know, that didn't mean no one knew. Kirishima has seen you leave Tamaki's apartment many times and learned himself. After all, he was his neighbor. "Kind of- It's complicated."

Kirishima leaned into the wall next to him, "I'm free to talk to."

"Tamaki should be back soon, I don't want him to think I'm talking shit," you declined.

"Well besides Amajiki, how's life?" he smiled at you.

You smiled, "Well, I recently watched the anime you and Kaminari were ranting about."

"Really? Denki's here now, wanna come in to talk about it?"

Your eyes flashed to the elevator, "I'm not sure-"

"Bro what are you doing-" Kaminari's head popped out Kirishima's door, "Oh hey~"

You frowned, "Hey," you greeted, acknowledging the flirty tone.

"Didn't know you lived here," he pushed himself out of the doorway to smile at you.

"I don't, I was just visiting a friend," you denied.

"At eleven?" Kaminari tilted his head.

The elevator dinging caught your attention, seeing Tamaki anxiously walk towards you.

"We should let you be," Kirishima smiled at you, nudging his shoulder into Kaminari.

"Oh-," Kaminari basically had a lightbulb go off in his brain, "that type of friend," he whispered.

"Goodnight!" Kirishima waved before shutting his door.

You let out a breath, glad Kaminari wasn't flirting in front of Tamaki, it'd only make his suspicions worse. You turned to fully face him, "Hey-"

"You're not breaking up with me right?" Tamaki mumbled, pulling at his sleeves as his eyes shook when trying to make eye contact.

"What- No, I just think we need to talk," you motioned for his door. Leading him to quickly unlock his door and motion for you to enter.

"Do you need water? Food?"

"Tamaki," you called out, "It's fine, just sit,"

His eyes flickered to you as he turned to look at the ground again, dragging his feet before sitting on the couch, you following shortly behind.

"Tamak-"

"Can I say something first?" he rushed out, continuing after you gave him a nod, "Thank you for trying to get Mirio to stop. And I'm sorry."

"Tamaki," you grabbed his hands lightly, untangling his hands gently, "I'm not mad at you, I just want to know why?"

"Why?"

"Like- why did you tell Mirio but not me? He can't solve the problem," you frowned.

"I'm just worried," Tamaki looked down at your hands, "I'm surprised you even want me- so I wouldn't be surprised if you left me. Especially for him."

"Tama-"

"I don't think you'll cheat on me," he continued, "I just get insecure when you're talking to another guy."

"I didn't want to talk to him-"

"I know, I just- he's everything I'm not," he squeezed your hand lightly, still refusing eye contact, "I just don't wanna mess things up, and knowing he's my competition- I don't know. I don't want to mess things up by complaining."

"You know that's not what I want, right?" you questioned, "I don't want to date anyone but you. I need you to talk to me"

He sighed, peering up at you, "I know."

Taking advantage that he was already looking at you, you moved your hands away from his and cupped his face. "I want you for all your anxiousness, I want to know you, not whoever you think I want." You knew that Tamaki wasn't hiding everything, but just in case he was, you wanted to make sure he got your point.

"Okay," he mumbled.

"Who have I even been dating for the last four months?" you joked.

His eyes flashed with worry, "I haven't been hiding anything! I just- I just didn't want you to think I was dramatic."

"I know," you smiled, pulling him in for a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck lightly as you rested your head on his.

"Thank you again," he mumbled into your shoulder, "for making Mirio stop asking questions. It's embarrassing."

"Anytime. Just make sure to come to me next time, not my brother."

You truly meant that, because now at parties, when someone gets too close or makes him anxious, you made your way to his side and helped him sneak away. He came to you now, trusted you.

Which became difficult when Mirio was always watching. Pointing out how Tamaki always shifted closer to you in public. As if he was glued to your hip. Stating how, no matter where you stood, Tamaki always had his eyes on you.

"I don't think he ever got over his little crush," Mirio always said in response.

"I feel bad for his girlfriend," was also mumbled one night, right after Tamaki left.

"What do you mean?"

"Tamaki is all over you like he looks like he got a breath of fresh air just by looking at you."

It was comforting, Tamaki even called you his 'home' one time when you were watching TikTok, commenting on how he saw people compare their relationship to a safe place. Obviously he became embarrassed when he realized what he said.

Because even though you've dating for six months now, you've never said anything too lovey. You were trying to match his pace, not wanting to fluster him into saying it back. In that same spirit, when you spent that night at his, it was often spent on his couch, never entering his room.

"You can go into my room and grab a change of clothes if you need," Tamaki offered as he helped you take your rain-soaked coat off. The two of you having returned from your six-month anniversary date, a small thing Tamaki deemed necessary to celebrate.

"I need a shower," you mumbled, peeling off a wet sock.

"You can do that too," he mumbled, face bright red at the idea of you showering.

"It's fine, I can go home and shower," you mustered up a smile, "I don't wanna intrude."

He paused in his motions of taking off his own coat, just blinking at you instead, "Intrude?"

"Yeah."

"My home is your home, you know?" he spoke softly. You processed that slowly, turning to look at him fully. "I love you," he rushed out.

You laughed lightly at how sheepish he looked, "I love you too, Tama." You walked to him and squeezed him into a hug, getting grossed out quickly with how your clothes squished together, pulling apart with a quick kiss. "I needa shower, can you show me how it works? I remember you complaining that it's complicated."

He turned the shower on for you, gave you a towel, and took your drenched clothes to wash while you showered. Squeaking and talking high pitched when he entered the bathroom with you showering, even though you were fully hidden behind a curtain. So he placed your clothes and left as quickly as possible, saying he'd shower in the guest room.

With you all changed, surrounded by Tamaki, you padded around his room, taking in the surroundings he placed around everything. It was a very moody bedroom, filled with dark colors, but it was nice, and easy on the eyes. Calming.

"Are you done?" he knocked on his own bedroom door.

"Yeah, come in," you turned towards his voice. Soaking in the view of him freshly out of the shower. Sure you've seen him with wet hair just moments ago, but him being clean and at home, with you, changed the feel of it.

He pouted slightly, a permanent blush on his cheeks, "That shirt looks better on you than me."

You looked down with a smile, "You should let me keep it."

"If- if you want to," he fumbled for a second, padding over to you slowly. Reminding you to absorb all of this moment that you could. Him freshly showered, covered in a grey sweater hanging on him loosely, and blue plaid pajama pants doing the same. He walked past you and to his bed, laying on one side before he eyed you and then the spot next to him, "Do you wanna-"

You practically skipped into bed, jumping into it and halfway onto him as you hugged him. "I love you," you mumbled into his neck. Basically getting cuteness aggression with how he has been acting all night and how he looks right now.

"I um- I love you too," he hugged you back, arms awkwardly wrapped around you, stunned.

You placed a quick kiss on his neck before trailing upwards, kissing his jaw and then his lips. Emotions running on overdrive as you thought over tonight.

Not only had you shared a beautiful dinner at the same place you guys had your first date, but the two of you shared your first 'I love yous' it had you reeling through it all.

Tamaki was as shy as ever with the kiss, following all your movements as your tongue licked into his mouth. Tilting his head back slightly and gripping onto your hips, allowing you to climb over and straddle him.

Moaning ever so slightly when you bit at his lip.

Slotting yourself over his hips made you buzz, your hips rocking into his.

"Fuck," he whimpered. He helped you move your hips over his slightly. Running you perfectly over the length of him.

"Tama-" you pressed your lips to his again, breathless from the kiss and the movements, feeling him become hard under you.

"Do you wanna-"

"Yes," Tamaki cut you off, rocking his hips into yours slightly, already knowing exactly what you'd suggest even with it never discussed before, "Please."

You pulled away to look at him for a moment, having your hands tangle into his hair as you looked him over. His face was flushed, eyes screwed shut. "Why'd you stop?" he husked, his eyes now barely open, keeping them lidded as they were heavy with the situation.

"You're so fuckin hot," you mumbled in disbelief that you currently had him under you and wanting, finally doing something about it rather than all the times before.

He whined, moving his hand to trail up your back, pushing you into him again so he could reconnect your lips as you rutted your hips. Breaths heavy but hardly catching any air as you lost yourself in the feeling of him against you, panting against your mouth.

He was running himself perfectly over your clit, catching your moans in his mouth. You never thought it'd be possible to cum from this alone, but you were already climbing that hill fast. Just needing an extra push as you whined.

Tamaki moved back slightly voice shaky, "Are you close?"

"Just need a little more," you tightened your grip on his hair, pulling slightly.

"Can I touch you? Want you to cum," he asked, the words sounded so off, coming from his normally embarrassed self.

"Tama," you laughed lightly," of course you can, I'm literally dry-humping you right now-"

"Shush," he hushed, head falling into your shoulder with embarrassment. His hands trailed up, softly going over your waist until they were hovering over your chest. Gasping when he realized you weren't wearing a bra when he cupped your chest, "Oh my god."

He kissed your shoulder, biting lightly at your collarbone as his hand squeezed at your chest, his fingers meeting to pinch at your nipple. "Please Tama," you moaned, you were already so close.

So when he pulled back from your neck and just looked at you with his desperate expression, whispering, "I love you so much," your eyes rolled into the back of your head, shaking and falling apart on top of him, fully clothed. Seeing white.

"Oh my god," you felt boneless, letting yourself fully relax on him. You've never cum because of someone, never even got to the point.

"You okay?" he asked, his hands running up and down your back.

You laughed breathlessly, "Yes, more than good," you kissed his jaw before pushing yourself up to look at him.

Trailing your eyes to the still obvious tent in his pants, slightly bummed you didn't get him off. "What's wrong?" he shifted, anxious under your eyes.

"You didn't cum," you pouted.

"I- was I supposed to- I'm sorry-" he tensed.

"No," you squeezed his shoulders, "I just wanted you to." You moved your hands over his pecs and down to his abs, feeling him flex underneath.

"You don't have to," he bit back a groan when your nails scratched at his skin and slipped underneath his sweater.

"I know," you leaned back into him, kissing his jaw before moving to nip at his neck like he did to yours. Placing marks over the side of his neck while he whimpered, hands squeezing at your slides.

You kept your hands moving, tracing over his abs before slowly sliding under his pants and under his boxers. Feeling brave before you actually had your palm over him. You've only done this once before, all the way back in high school with some guy you hardly liked. Now you were scared you would freak him out.

Palming him gently before wrapping your hand around him. Biting your lip at the gasp that left his lips. His hips slightly rolling into your hand.

You moved away from him, moving your hands to peel his pants down so you could see him.

He jumped at your grip on his waistband, "wait-"

You paused, "You okay?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," you smiled at him, "Are you?"

"I- I am just- don't look at it," he mumbled, gripping onto your thighs.

"I kinda have to look at it babe," you moved your hands off his pants, "If you're not ready It's okay."

Tamaki frowned, "No- I want to- just, don't judge me?"

You furrowed your brows, "Never even thought of it."

"Okay- you can, be gentle," he stuttered, looking towards the ceiling.

You gave him a quick kiss on the lips, shuffling back and moving his pants just enough so you could see his dick. Whatever he didn't want you to look at was stupid, and impossible now. The length of him bobbed once you removed his pants, twitching as it laid on his pelvis.

"Don't stare," Tamaki shuffled under you, reminding you to move. Wrapping your hand around the base of him for a second, before moving back. A whine leaving his throat as he opened his eyes to see what you were doing, A sharp moan from deep in his throat left his lips when he saw you spit into your hands before wrapping your hand around him again.

Pumping the length of him slowly, letting both of you get a feel for it. He jerked up into your hold, hands squeezing at your thighs before he wrapped his hand around yours. Tighten your grip around him, guiding your hand.

"Just- just like that," his eyes fluttered shut, his hand moving off yours when you followed his motions. Adding your own touch by running your thumb over his tip everything you reached it. His breath hitching at every touch.

You were sure that the second you saw him in the light, that he'd be perfect.

His hands reached for your ass, pulling you closer until you had enough room to get him off between your thighs. Panting out moans. Eyes lidded and eyebrows pinched together as he watched you.

He moved to sit up for a second, resting on one elbow before using the other arm to pull his shirt off, throwing it to the side of the room before resting back on his elbows. Letting his hands grip at your hips.

"I love you so much," you cooed, anything he did was godly in your eyes. He was beautiful, letting a whiney breath of your name loose.

He opened his heavy-lidded eyes, locking eyes with you.

The look on him made you want to do anything he wanted. Running over his length with more passion.

"Fuck, I want you in me," you mumbled, looking down to appreciate how his muscles were tensing and untensing, chest heaving.

His eyes rolled back, slurring his words, "Can't say stuff like that."

"Mhm," you hummed, watching him roll his head back, hips pressing up to you, "I want you so bad, Tamaki."

He struggled to look at you again, the eye contact making him struggle to keep calm. Too many times he has thought about this exact situation. Probably since high school.

"I need you to come, baby," you spoke softly, you wanted to be the reason for his undoing.

He huffed, clearly in his head as he pushed his head into the pillow.

"Just let go," you whispered, your free hand falling between both your legs and lightly holding his balls, squeezing gently.

All air left his lungs, hips jolting up as he came. Thighs shaking under you. Cum coating over your hand as he silently came, mouth twitching as he worked through his high. Moaning loudly only after he stopped cuming, breathing heavily.

His hand grabbed at your wrist, pleading for you to stop with heavy breaths. You moved your not cum covered hand over his abs, coaxing him through the last waves of bliss.

He let out a shaky breath, "Fuck."

"You okay?" you smiled down at him.

His face was bright red as he nodded, "That's the hardest I've ever- you know."

Pride flowed through you. You leaned down to place a kiss on his lips before moving to get off him.

"Where you going?" he tightened his grip on your thighs.

"I need a rag or something," you laughed.

"Oh," he blushed, letting you get up to grab the towel you used earlier. Wiping off your hands before moving to go help him. "I can do it," he muttered, embarrassed as he grabbed the towel from you and cleaned himself off before throwing the towel to the side. Pulling his pants back up and reaching for you.

You stepped out of his reach, shifting uncomfortably, "I- uh, need a different part of shorts."

He blinked at you confused, looking down at your shorts, before shooting his eyes back up, "Oh- I- um, third drawer down," he pointed towards his dresser. Eyes following you as you padded over to it.

"Sorry," you mumbled as you pulled out the first thing you saw, just a plain black pair of boxers.

"What?" Tamaki moved to sit up right, "Why?"

"I just came in your boxers," you shot him a look, as if he was stupid. Turning so you could look at him as you pushed the sticky pair of shorts off and the new boxers on, already having cleaned yourself when you grabbed a towel from the bathroom.

You felt his eyes trail over your body as you changed. He could only see your thighs because of how his shirt fit you. Watching you carefully as you stepped into another pair of his shorts.

"I'm glad you did," he spoke without much thought.

"That I came in your pants?"

"I- no, well yes, but that you came," he fumbled over the words. Eyes following you as you came back to the bed, snuggling straight into his side.

You snorted at his words, "Of course you are."

"What do you mean?" his hand held your hip, letting you hook your leg over him as you laid your head on his chest. His other hand holding your thigh to him.

"Every guy is over the moon when they make a girl cum," you explained.

"It's not just that," Tamaki sighs, "I'm glad we did that cause it- it makes us closer."

"Aw," you chooed, moving your head to lay a kiss on his jaw, "If you're in love with me, just say it."

"I'm in love with you," he locked eyes with you while he said it, completely confident in his words.

You smiled hard, "I'm in love with you."

The phrases 'I love you' and 'I'm in love with you' were completely different to you. Both meaning completely different things than the other, you could be one without the other. You've explained this to him, so him saying it meant the world.

Emotions were high that night, as well as into the following morning. You were too comfy, cozied under his covers for the first time, ignoring the alarm blaring next to you.

You reached to turn it off, clumsily pressing the snooze button before scooting back into Tamaki. Content as he hugged you tighter to him, squeezing you. A laugh left you when you noticed his hand was tucked under your shirt and placed on your tit.

"Mh," he grumbled into your neck.

"Tama," you traced over his arm curled over your stomach.

"Hm?"

"You got work baby."

He stretched his legs out, only then realizing his hand placement, "sorry," he muttered, caring less because of how tired he was. Sitting upright before rubbing at his eyes, trying to wake up.

You turned to face him, rubbing a hand up and down his back to try and help wake him up.

He shrugged you off, "Gonna make me tired."

"Sorry," you laughed lightly, yawning a falling back into the pillow.

"Go back to sleep," he looked at you over his shoulder.

"Mhm," you hummed, looking over the muscles carved into his back. He patted your thigh before getting up to get ready. Your eyes followed him until they became too heavy, closing softly and letting you fall back asleep without the warmth of him.

He stepped around carefully, taking a shower in the guest room to avoid waking you. Tip-toeing around his room when he got back. Throwing on a random shirt and sweater, noticing the rain that was still going strong from last night. A random pair of sweats following his shirt. An outfit he just needed to wear too and from the office, where he'd change into his hero gear there.

A hand rubbing at your hips woke you up softly, along with his voice, "I gotta leave."

"No," you grumbled, grabbing lightly at his hand that laid on you.

"You can stay as long as you want, just text me when you leave," he smiled softly at your actions. Annoyed at the fact that he had to leave you.

"Okay," you murmured, "I love you."

"I love you," the comfort in those words lightened up his mood even more than it already was. You pouted your lips, indirectly asking for a kiss. Humming happily when he placed a light kiss on your lips, adding an extra kiss to your cheek for good luck as well.

"Be safe," you let go of his hand, looking up at him with tired eyes.

"I will," he smiled, reluctantly leaving you.

Mirio would not let Tamaki catch a break.

All throughout the work day and even into the evening when Tamaki went to your apartment.

"This is the first time I've seen you with a hickey," Mirio clapped Tamaki's shoulder.

You turned your eyes off the TV to look at the boys, their greeting was quiet at first but Mirio spoke loudly at that last sentence.

Tamaki's eyes caught yours before he looked at Mirio, tugging his collar up, "Mirio."

"Fine, fine," Mirio laughed, "Just glad to see you getting out of your shell."

"Hm."

"It's good to share that."

"Mirio," you cut in, "I don't need to hear about this."

"Jealous?"

"Hardly," you laughed, turning your head back to the TV.

"Sure," Mirio teased as they walked to join you in the living room.

"Projecting?" you raised a brow at him. He glared at you as he sat in his favorite chair, Tamaki sitting next to you.

The two softly talked about stuff you could care less about, focusing on the TV until their conversation interested you again.

"When will you guys just live together? She's over so often," Mirio groaned.

"You don't live with Hado," Tamaki mumbled.

"Cause I have a sister that's dragged along with me."

"Aye," you threw a pillow at him.

"Why don't you live with your boyfriend?" Mirio switched to you.

"Why are you always questioning my relationship?"

Mirio gave you a blank look before shrugging. Switching the topic to dinner while you left the room. Slightly hear Tamaki suggest food you liked instead of their interest. It was sweet.

He got along with your family so well, sometimes better than you. You were worried that when you finally owned up to your relationship, that'd it'd break the bonds.

One bond it wouldn't break was with your dad.

You called him before, telling him all about your boyfriend as things went on. Only now finally accepting an invite for dinner.

Stepping through the door was a huge step, giving Tamaki a reassuring look over your shoulder before calling out for your dad.

"In the kitchen," he called back. So you stepped slowly through your house, Tamaki always a couple steps back.

"You ready to meet him?" you peeked through the living so your dad could see you, Tamaki conveniently placed against a wall. Head hidden from the world.

"Of course," your dad cheered. You already knew how happy he was about this, but seeing it was nice.

You guestered for Tamaki, him peaking at you from under his hair. Taking a deep breath before stepping into view.

"Oh."

"Sorry," Tamaki squeaked out.

"Sorry?" your dad looked at him confused.

"For, um- dating her without your permission," Tamaki kept his head down.

You looked between the two, curious who this would go. The only words that could help Tamaki right now would be your dad's.

"I'm glad it's you, boy," your dad smiled brightly, clapping his hands on Tamaki's shoulders.

Tamaki raised his head, "You are?" Tamaki would never say it, but your dad was basically his dad. He looked up to him in all the ways a son looks at his father. His father died while he was young, so he found another in yours. So the validation meant the world.

"Yes," your dad laughed, pulling him into a bear hug, "hopefully you actually become my son now."

You laughed warmly, "See? Nothing bad, as I promised."

Your dad replied first, "I was worried it wouldn't be Tamaki, after all my work."

"Dad stop your matchmaking," you groaned, following after your dad when he returned back into the kitchen.

"You were right," Tamaki mumbled to you, shifting his attention back to your dad when asked a question.

"You still working your quirk?"

"Yeah."

"Great, made your favorites."

"Dad," you glared, "you didn't even know if it was him."

"My heart told me it was."

"And if it wasn't?"

"I'd hope the food would make you think about him," he hummed.

You groaned, sitting down in your seat. Mirio got his meddling from Dad, and it was obvious.

"What? Mirio might be oblivious to your crush but I could see it clear as day," your dad pointed a spoon at you two.

Tamaki flushed next to you, taking charge and shifting the conversation himself. Chatting with your dad while you just smiled and watched. Appreciating how all could be normal. How this could be how life was?

While you were fine keeping your relationship secret, it still took a toll on you whether you liked it or not. Hiding it from Mirio was hard. You wanted to be closer to Tamaki, say what you wanted, and share what you wanted.

All in time is what you kept telling yourself.

Tamaki stepped away for a moment, looking for something in Mirio's room that came up in conversation.

"He looks as if you hung the stars in the sky," your dad spoke softly.

"What?" you focused back in on the conversation.

He shrugged, "It's easy to tell he loves you."

You smiled softly.

"It's always been easy to tell, but only now you're willing to hear it," your dad sassed.

"Oh my god, I know- I was a little slow," you admitted with a laugh.

Tamaki easily blended back into the conversation when he came back.

Things were always easy with him.

The only thing that wasn't was hiding.

Just being next to him was risky, it felt as if Mirio knew.

You were just laying on Tamaki's couch, leg over his waist as he placed his laptop on your thigh, typing away at a work report. You comfortably scrolling through your phone. Ignoring Mirio's text and moving to the next video. Showing Tamaki all the funny ones.

"Do you know what I put here?" Tamaki pointed to a text on the screen.

You put your phone down, leaning into his space to get a closer look, "I think that's where you put the chemicals used," you said after a minute, "It's always difficult when they ask what the heroes did. Too much going on to focus."

Tamaki hummed, typing away what you said. Letting you relax back to how you were on his side.

His phone buzzed with a call, him reluctantly taking his eyes off the screen. "It's Mirio," he glanced at you, telling you to be quiet without words, "Hey?"

"Are you doing the work report right now?" Mirio asked eyes closed to the Facetime call. You wanted to laugh.

"Yeah, I'm almost done with it," Tamaki held his phone with one hand, scrolling through the work report with the other.

"Can I see it real quick? Page 7," Mirio begged, "I'm lost."

Tamaki scrolled to that point and flipped the camera without thinking, "Here."

"Is that your girlfriend's leg?"

"Huh?" Tamaki then noticed your leg. You wanted to laugh at the dumb action.

"I didn't know she was there, Hi!" Mirio called out.

Tamaki looked at you panicked, "She's asleep right now."

"Oh, sorry," Mirio laughed, "I got what I needed, I'll let you get back to her." The two hung up and Tamaki just looked at you in disbelief.

"I can't believe I'm so stupid," he groaned, smacking his hand over his eyes.

You laughed now, "It's nothing, now he knows you're not lying though."

Things like this happened often. Mirio almost finding out, but never quite. That or he'd make comments about it.

"You guys are always with your boyfriend and girlfriend at the same time, it's almost like you're dating each other," Mirio side-eyed you.

So you changed things up.

Saying you were with your boyfriend when you knew Tamaki would be with Mirio. Tamaki didn't do the same, he felt guilty for lying already.

But when push came to shove, all he did was lie.

You sat on his couch like normal, startled when you heard a knock on the door and Mirio's voice behind it, "Tamaki! I need a gym partner."

The two of you scrambled off each other, staring at the other for a plan.

"Tamaki! I'm coming in," and in Mirio's fashion, he walked through the door.

Years as a hero gave you quick reactions, so you activated your similar quirk and fell through the couch and the floor.

Mirio always came close to finding out. But the point was that he never did find out.

So you lived in a secret bliss. Enjoying each other company as best as you can.

Tamaki meant so much to you, that you'd give him your all. He was your top priority. Helping him after a long day's work, helping him clean any lasting wounds, and grabbing his ice pack. Always a shoulder for him if he needed it.

He was the same to you, you've called him crying and he'd drop anything to help you.

The relationship between the two of you was more than you've ever had before.

Sure you've dated people before, briefly for a couple of months a most. But here you were, working for seven months with Tamaki.

Imactacy between the two of you was insanely important, and not even on that level. He just always had to have a hand on you. A thigh pressed into yours. He just wanted to be close to you. It was the main way he showed you how much he loved you. And in turn, he loved whenever you complimented him. Practically glowing each time.

You found yourself glowing too, you would cringe if anyone else acted the way you did with him, but he just brought out that light in you.

He approached you on his bed, fresh from his shower. Going under the covers when you opened them for him. Nudging your legs apart so he could lay on you.

His head naturally falling on your chest, his arms wrapping under your waist and pulling you tighter to him.

"I love you," he muttered into your chest, moving to lay a single kiss on your skin, slightly exposed through a tank top.

You let one hand rest in his hair, the other rubbing up and down his bare back. Tracing the slight scars that you could see in the soft light of his room. "I love you too."

He pushed himself up, kissing you softly. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," you kissed him again. You've been insanely busy for the past three weeks. Hero work getting hectic and the paperwork getting worse.

He hummed into your lips, slowly deepening the kiss. Taking charge all while taking your breath away. Working you through the kiss as his hands move to rub at your sides. Humming into the kiss when you arch into him.

His hand moving up to grab at your chest. A surprised hum leaving your lips, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You've been in these shoes before. Making out, grabbing at each other, sighing breathlessly into the kiss. Yet he hardly took the lead. He's kissed you passionately before but never in his own bed or somewhere so intimate. You were always the one starting it.

With his hand busy on your chest, he moved his kisses down. Placing them down your jaw then trailing bites down your neck. Making you melt in his hold before he moved his hands down to the hem of your shirt, silently asking you to help him peel it off you.

His face beamed red yet he only took a second to buffer. Taking in the sight of your chest so up-close for the first time. He's seen you in a bra plenty, felt your tits quite a few times, but has never seen them.

Pushing the shock aside, he lifted his eyes to look at yours, as if you'd back down now, before peppering kisses along your chest, whispering, "I love you."

You squeezed at his shoulders when he finally touched his lips to your nipple. Digging your nails slightly into his skin when his hand trailed down the path of your stomach.

"Please," you asked breathily before he could ask.

His hand twitched slightly in hesitation, unsure of his actions before you rolled your hips up the best you could, trying to get any of his touch. Letting out a breathy sigh of his own before he cupped the shape of you through your shorts.

Slowly grinding his hand into you, letting his fingers circle slightly over where you needed him most.

Despite how much you wanted to beg him to hurry, you knew he'd need his time.

His lips left you tit and trailed back up to kiss at your neck. Calming himself down with heavy breaths against you. Gaining the confidence to lift his hand and slip underneath your shorts and underwear. Sighing when he touched the warmth of you, "You're wet."

"Obviously," you softly laughed, rolling your hips into his hand.

He lifted his head to look at you, once again for permission. As if you read his mind, you left your hips, sliding your shorts and panties off your ass. Letting him trail them the rest of the way off your thighs and across the room.

His eyes fell to your face first, always ever so aware of you, before they fell to the space between your legs. His hands squeezed at your thighs, letting himself fall back into the moment and not get stuck in the shock that this was actually happening.

Falling down to kiss you passionately, fueled by everything between you too. He let his hands take charge of the moment, his fingers parting you open so he could run a perfect circle over your clit. Swallowing any gasp you made.

"Where'd you learn that?" you asked breathless. You expected him to be a fumbling mess, unsure and questioning. But he wasn't.

"I- um," you felt the heat radiating off his face, "porn."

You smiled, "Studied?"

"For you," he hummed, kissing you once again and letting the moment continue without many words.

Soaking in all your slight jolts of pleasure as he coaxed you higher. Only dipping his fingers further when he knew you were worked up. Somehow he knew just what to do.

Teasing ever so slightly at your entrance and barely letting his fingers inside, his tongue copying all the movements in your mouth. He only stopped his teasing when you bit his tongue. Letting his fingers sink into you and build up a steady pace.

"Oh my god," you whispered into his mouth.

You've fingered yourself before obviously. But his hand? His presences? Changed everything. All your senses were surrounded by him. You could taste him, smell him, feel him, hear him, and see him. Kissing became impossible to focus on, changing your attention to breathing. Your eyes locking onto the ceiling as you tried to take in the motion of his fingers.

"You okay?" he asked softly into your neck.

Your hands found their spots on his shoulder and the nape of his neck. "Yes, god yes," you whine, because not only was he fingering you, but now he was rubbing at your clit and kissing at your neck.

He was already confident in his actions, otherwise, he never would have started anything, but your sounds spurred him on and it was obvious. He was kissing your neck rougher, being slightly more passionate with his fingers, no longer unsure if their method would work. Rutting into your thigh to help him in any way possible.

The soft sounds you were making made him crave more, wanting you to reach the same peak you had all those nights ago.

Slightly changing the spot his fingers were hitting made you arch slightly, forcing your body closer to his. "Right fucking there, please," you begged, pulling on the ends of his hair.

He followed your hands and stopped hiding in your neck, making eye contact. The look in his eyes had you forcing yours shut. Cumming so unexpectedly fast. Thighs clamping shut as he tried to work you through it all. All you could think about was that look as you came. He was practically begging for you to cum with his eyes all while saying he loved you. It threw you for a loop.

A soft kiss at your lips and his hands retreated had you blinking your eyes open.

"You okay?"

"I love you," you cupped his cheek softly, pulling him in for a sweet kiss.

He laughed lightly against your mouth, "Not only for that, right?"

"Course not," you smiled, kissing him into another kiss.

That night ended in that light, just taking in the step closer the two of you were.

Your relationship was progressing extremely well in all aspects. Because of course, Tamaki was still shy with you, but over the past 8 months, the two of you were closer than ever. He'd tell you anything, and you'd tell him anything. It was a sappy relationship held behind closed doors.

But since that night, you're relationship took another turn and became a lot more sexual. Throwing out random sexual comments casually, mainly you, but sometimes he did too. No matter where you were it was horrible.

"Just sit down girl," Hado laughed at how you were fumbling around drunk.

"Yeah, just come sit on it," Tamaki suggested in a tone, the same tone he said all his other sexual jokes.

"Want me to?" you shot back and he shut up. You were glad only Hado was in the room and just laughed drunkenly.

Another time though-

"Yeah suck it Tamaki!" you cheered, finally having beaten him at a stupid arcade.

"Nah, that's your job."

"Tamaki!" you slapped at his arm and he went beat red, only then realizing what he said and who they were near.

Other than jokes, there were casual discussions about sexual stuff.

"Thanks for dinner," you kissed Tamaki's shoulder, hand rubbing at his back before you moved to hop on the counter next to him. Sitting next to the sink as he washed the dishes you just ate off, refusing to let you do it. "I'm still surprised you're such a good cook," you crossed your legs as you watched him.

"It's mainly because of my quirk, I need to constantly eat and it needs to be useful," he shrugged, moving a clean dish onto the drying rack.

"Makes you a great boyfriend," you watched as he fumbled washing silver wear at your words. "Speaking of your quirk-"

He shot you a glare, "If you're going to ask about tentacles-"

"No," you laughed, knowing how he's had many fangirls mention it to him, even his friends did. "Like how does it work?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like is it anything you eat? Does it need certain components?"

"I think it's anything I eat."

"Is there a time on it?"

"I can do it instantly but once it's out, then it's used up."

"Wait so anything?" you backtracked, a random idea popping in your head.

He eyed you under his bangs, "Yeah?"

"So like," Tamaki stood up straight to look at you, resting his hands on the edge of the sink, waiting for you to spill whatever you were plotting, "If we kissed?"

He shook his head, "I don't think so, I'd need more than just spit. Plus I wouldn't be able to ingest enough."

The way he was answering seriously made you want to laugh, "but you've never tried?"

"Obviously," he sassed.

"Want to?"

He blinked at you for a moment, "Make out?"

"Yeah, so you can try it."

"I don't think it'll work-"

"You could always just eat me out and find out what happens that way," you spoke bluntly, not a thought behind it.

"I- what?" he stood up completely straight, no longer leaning on the counter. Face completely red.

You laughed at his reaction, "I didn't mean to say that aloud. Yet it could work."

He's never eaten you out before. So far your relationship was just making out, grinding, and hand jobs.

"Do- do you want me to?" he shifted his footing, eyes looking you up and down.

Your humor ran dry at the idea, "I mean- yeah. To test the theory."

"Sure," he rolled his eyes, moving to stand between your legs, crowding you on the counter.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss.

Likely the sloppiest kiss the two of you've shared.

Mouths parting open quickly, hardly warming into the action. As if the idea of eating you out got the both of you excited.

Breath ran out quickly, you gasping and pulling away for a breather, "so?"

"Huh?"

"Anything?"

"No- I don't think it works like that-"

You slouched in disappointment, "lame." You shifted to hop off the counter.

"What are you doing?" Tamaki grabbed at your hip, stilling you.

"I'm getting down? Might as well watch a movie before it's too late."

He blinked at you, "Did you seriously think the only reason I'd-um- eat you out is cause of a theory?"

"Well, I was joking," you blushed, "You don't have to."

"I want to," he kneaded at your hips.

"Oh," you muttered, shocked for no huge reason.

"Can I?"

You nodded dumbly.

Getting pressed into another passionate kiss. His hands pulling you into him slowly. Getting your hips to hit his. Shocking you with how he was already hard, likely more into this than you are.

He always seemed more focused on you during these moments than himself. And when you did light attention on him, he struggled, staying stuck in his head. But when it was you, he was fine. Likely throwing himself into the moment as he did during hero work.

Yet unlike hero work, he was kissing down your neck, pushing you backward to lay flat on the counter. His movements were slow and planned out, yet to you it rushed from 0 to 100 real quick.

His fingers slipping under the hem of your shorts and panties, peeling them off you easily with how you were laying. Leg crossed round his back, ass hanging off the counter, and back laid flat. Only arching into him when you felt his hands move to circle your clit.

"Oh my god," you moved your arms to rest on your elbows, watching the show he was giving you.

He moved his arms to hook under your legs, crouching down so he could be face-to-face with you.

The quick look up he gave you, a look for consent, had you pleading, "Please." You reached a hand out to cup his cheek. Letting him lean into your touch before he made his own move, your hand going to tangle in his hair.

Feeling a puff of warm air on your clit before your shut your eyes closed. Shivering at the feeling of the tip of his tongue circling your clit.

He surprised you each day with the things he did, especially in this category. He'd fumble for maybe a minute, but the second you gasped, he followed it. Taking every twitch into notes to work you up incredibly quick.

Lapping at your slit softly before sucking your clit slightly. Even moaning into you.

"Tama," you said breathlessly, pulling his hair and him closer.

His hands squeezing at your thighs, helping them close around his head as you softly rocked into him, gasping at each heavy lick into you.

How sloppy he was being was shocking, leaving your mouth open as you tried to catch up with the feeling.

Feeling like it was too far away to catch, too close to your peak before he made you crash right back down, and hard. The lights in the room going white as you felt like you've discovered a new type of light.

His hands kneading at your thighs and sides when he stood back up, trying to help you calm back down. Leaving you to blink yourself awake before smiling blissfully.

"Oh my god," you laughed breathlessly, "I've never came that quick." Tamaki gave you a shy smile before you continued, "I'm shocked."

He shrugged, "I expected it, with how you-um- like getting touched- you know."

"How I like getting fingered?"

"Yeah- that," he looked away.

"Damn," you went limp into the counter, "Still, didn't know it'd be that good. You need to try it."

"Huh?"

You blushed from having to say it, "Like, you need to let me give you head. Mind-blowing experience."

His face turned bright red as he handed you your shorts. "My quirk doesn't work, by the way," he switched topics.

Grabbing the shorts from him and slipping them on, you looked at him weirdly, "What?"

"From- um- eating you out? You wanted to test it but it doesn't work."

"Oh," you blinked, "I forgot about that."

The two of you moved on from that conversation quickly. It was obvious he wasn't ready to take another step on his side, and that was okay. You'd get there when you get there.

On a different note.

He was progressing in his comfort with other things more.

Sitting closer to you in public, letting his eyes rest on you more, and engaging in conversation with you in public normally as well.

There was hardly any change in his personality from public to private with you anymore.

He stayed consistent and it helped the relationship grow a lot more.

Being able to actually talk with him in your own home was a comfort as well. It eased the stress of it all.

You could care less who found out at this point. Tamaki was the highest priority for you after a year of dating. He was your first everything and maybe it was dumb, but you hoped he was your last.

The relationship was so comfortable.

And he showed signs he felt just the same.

Having gone in a slight couple's costumes for Halloween with you. Ignoring the questions raised.

Unfortunately, your costume had an incredibly short skirt. So when you leaned off your chair to grab something from the coffee table in front of you, your skirt lifted. Giving Tamaki and the other guy leaning back in the chair a clear view of your panties. So without a thought, Tamaki moved his hand to pull your skirt down, settling for blocking the view with his hand when he couldn't get your skirt down without embarrassing you further.

All acts innocent before you went to go sit down, having Tamaki's hand grab your ass before quickly returning to his lap. Giving him a short look before sitting down, patting his thigh in thanks once you realize what happened, and then acting as if nothing happened despite Tamaki's clear blush.

When you tried to get back to a normal conversation, Mirio just kept giving you an odd look. "What?" you finally spat out in his direction.

"Don't you think it's a little weird how close you guys are?" Mirio crossed his arms as he looked at you.

"So?"

"Tamaki hardly flinched when he touched you, or when you touched him."

"And?" you asked again.

"For people in a relationship? Neither of you've met each other's partner either," Mirio pointed a finger between you two as if scolding, "Kind of disrespectful."

Not wanting to seem like anything was done in bad faith, you blurted without much thought, "I've met his girlfriend."

"What?" Mirio drops all expression, looking at Tamaki as if he'd betrayed him.

Tamaki tensed fully, sitting up straight and shooting you a glare, "It was an accident."

"Oh," Mirio's expression calmed.

"I wouldn't want her to meet her," Tamaki spoke harshly as he rushed to comfort his friend, stabbing at you in response.

Mirio looked at you, "I think we should head home." The fact that he was able to see you were upset before your boyfriend did, hurt. Especially when it was his words.

All Tamaki does is nod his head before rushing out.

You motion for Mirio to wait, following Tamaki briefly, "Hey."

"Why'd you say that?" Tamaki looks at you with panicked eyes when you turned around.

"What?" you looked at him confused.

"I care so much about that friendship and you could have ruined it," Tamaki stressed.

"What?" you repeated voice fragile at his words and the meaning behind them, "What about me? Why'd you say you'd never want me to meet them? In that tone."

Tamaki gives you a confused look, "I don't know if you- us- we are permanent. It's new, I've been friends with Mirio since forever."

"It's new?" you questioned, crossing your arms and shifting your stance. Taken aback by how he viewed things.

"Yes?"

"It's been a year in 2 weeks," you pointed out, helpless.

"So?"

You took a sigh, trying to figure out how to word the rest before getting interrupted by Mirio.

"Hey," Mirio eyed the tension between the two of you, "We should get home."

"Agreed," you nodded, turning to walk away from the conversation and to the car.

Letting the night melt away as Mirio drove home in silence.

It was painful to look at the rain hitting the windows of the car, trying not to think of the night you shared I love yous. Trying not to focus on how Tamaki said your relationship wasn't a permanent thing, not in his eyes. His priorities were clearly different, but you had to keep the tears back so you didn't make Mirio think anymore happened.

Anything for Tamaki, you huffed back the emotion.

---

Part 2

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violettwrites · 2 months ago

Text

the fall — daryl dixon

a/n: hi guys !! sorry i have been so mia recently, life has just been crazy and work is insane coming into the christmas season. my laptop is currently away for repairs so i wrote this on my phone — please bear with me if there’s any mistakes. im hoping to have that back soon !

if you enjoy this, please don’t forget to like, reblog, and/or comment ! your support always means the world to me

summary: daryl loses you during the start of the apocalypse, and then he finds you again.

( this can be read as just daryl dixon from season 1 OR apart of my trailer park!daryl series ! they both work together so it's completely up to you! )

word count: 2,110

warnings: swearing

resources: divider by @/adornedwithlight

➵ masterlist

➵ ask box

➵ rules

“(y/n)?!” daryl’s voice crackled over the phone as you stood in the emergency room, one hand pressed against your ear while the other held the phone to your other ear, trying to make sense of the words daryl was saying over the chaos of the building. the emergency department you worked in was teetering on the edge of an explosion— patients were pouring in, people were screaming, and you could hear ominous groans and growls coming from behind curtains.

“(y/n), can you hear me?!”

daryl’s voice sounded frantic through the static. you could picture him, sitting in the passenger seat of merle’s truck, hand gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles were probably white. you knew he was panicking, probably punching merle’s shoulder to drive faster, to get to you.

“daryl, i—” you started, but gunshots cut through your words. the loud crack of bullets echoed through the hallways. your heart raced as you whipped your head toward the sound, seeing military soldiers in riot gear filing into the hospital, trying to contain what they could.

“shit!” daryl’s voice shouted on the other end, hearing the gunfire through the phone. “what was that?! are you okay?!”

“i don’t know,” you spoke softly, but your voice remained panicked, ducking around a corner as you tried to figure out a way out of the hospital without getting caught in the crossfire. “the military’s here, dar. it’s bad, real bad.”

you could hear merle cursing in the background through the phone, his voice sharp with confusion and fear. he was probably just as pissed as daryl, not wanting to wait around.

“we’re comin’ for ya,” daryl said, his voice firm despite the panic you knew was coursing through him. “jus’ stay where you are.”

“no—” you shook your head, though it was pointless because he couldn’t see you. but you knew that staying in one place would only get you, or them, killed. “it’s not safe here. you need to go, daryl. get outta the city.”

daryl didn’t like how firm your voice was now, like you had accepted your fate. but he also knew you were strong, and you could hold yourself. it was everyone else he wasn’t comfortable with. “i’m not leavin’ without ya!” his words were clipped, but you could hear the desperation seeping through. “jus’ tell me where to find ya.”

“you swallowed hard, ducking down a hallway as more gunshots rang out behind you. “i’ll find you. just go!”

“not an option,” daryl growled, clearly getting more frustrated. “we’re comin’ to get ya.”

“daryl, i swear to god, just go!” you shouted, your voice shaking. you knew you had to make him leave. the city was falling apart, and if he stayed any longer, he wouldn’t make it out alive.

and then, the line went dead.

you stared at the phone for a second, frozen, before shoving it into your pocket. you couldn’t waste time standing there. you needed to survive. you needed to find a way back to him.

the months that followed were a blur. everything crumbled so fast— society, infrastructure, order. the infection spread quicker than anyone had anticipated, and soon, the world was unrecognisable. you’d managed to survive by keeping to the outskirts of the cities, staying on the move, scavenging what you could. it had been a battle to stay alive, but you never stopped thinking about getting back to daryl.

each day, you held onto the hope that he was still out there. that he, and merle, had made it. you had to believe he was still alive. it was the only thing that kept you going.

one day, after weeks of wandering, you had heard rumors from a group of survivors about a camp up near the quarry. a group had settled there, and something in your gut told you to go. you shoved what little you had into your bag and made your way towards the quarry, hoping against hope that daryl would be there.

daryl sat on the outskirts of the atlanta camp, absentmindedly sharpening his knife as he stared out into the treeline. his mind wasn’t on the task though. it hadn’t been for weeks. ever since the outbreak started, ever since he lost contact with you, he hadn’t been able to focus on much of anything.

merle was his usual self— bossy, loud, and always looking for trouble. but daryl? he was quieter these days, more withdrawn. every hunt he went on, he couldn’t stop himself from searching for you, his eyes scanning every inch of the woods, hoping for a glimpse of you.

but every time, he came back empty handed.

he’d given up hope of hearing from you over the phone weeks ago, but he couldn’t give up the idea of finding you. you were out there somewhere— he just knew it.

“hey! you gonna sit there all damn day, or you gonna help me with this firewood?” merle’s voice cut through his thoughts, causing him to grit his teeth and ignore his older brother. he was tired of merle’s shit.

daryl stood up, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder without a word. he made his way towards the tree line, scanning the area out of habit. the camp wasn’t the safest; no walls, walkers always lurking, and the occasional survivor that would wander too close for comfort, but they had done a good job keeping it secure. for now.

just as he was about to head back, movement caught his eye. daryl squinted, grip tightening on the strap of his crossbow as a figure stumbled out of the woods. for a moment, he thought it was just another survior— a poor soul lost and scared like the rest of them. but then his heart skipped a beat.

it was you.

“(y/n)?” the words ripped out of him before he could stop it, and in an instant, he was running toward you, his legs carrying him faster than he thought was possible. you looked different— thinner, worn down, like you had walked through hell. but it didn’t matter. you were alive.

your eyes met his, and the world around you seemed to fall away. after weeks, months— you weren’t sure. but you had finally found him.

“daryl,” you breathed out, your voice weak but full of relief.

he didn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest, holding you tight. you could feel the rapid thump of his heart against your ear, the warmth of his body grounding you in a way nothing else had since the world fell apart.

“i thought i lost ya,” daryl muttered, his voice rough and his breath warm against your neck.

you held him tighter, your fingers gripping the back of his shirt under his crossbow like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart. “i’m here,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “i’m here.”

for a moment, the two of you just stood there, holding onto each other and letting the weight of the time split up crash down around you. all the fear, the uncertainty, the loss— it all seemed to fade in that moment.

when you finally pulled back, daryl kept his hands on your shoulders, like he needed to keep touching you to make sure you were real. his eyes scanned your face, taking in every detail.

“merle?” you asked softly, knowing daryl’s older brother never strayed far from his side.

“he’s back at camp,” his voice steadying. “still a pain in the ass.”

you let out a weak laugh, the sound foreign after so long without joy. “figures.”

“come on,” he said, his hand lingering on your arm as he started to lead you back toward the camp. “you need to get some rest.”

the camp was quiet as the two of you entered, the crackle of the campfire being the only sound besides the soft rustle of leaves. merle spotted you first, his eyes narrowing before recognition flashed across his face.

“well, i’ll be damned,” merle said, leaning back with a grin. “look who finally showed up.”

you met merle’s eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips despite everything. “good to see you too, merle.”

daryl guided you to a spot by the fire, his hand never leaving yours as if he couldn’t bear to let go. you settled beside him, exhaustion finally catching up to you. but for the first time in months, you felt safe. you were with daryl. that was all that mattered.

as the fire crackled in front of you, it’s orange glow casting flickering shadows on your face, you leaned back against a log and let out a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding. the tension in your shoulders loosened ever so slightly, but the weight of everything you’d been through was still pressed on your chest. your eyes flickered to daryl beside you— his presence was grounding, familiar, something solid in a world that felt like quicksand.

he hadn’t let go of your hand, his rough fingers wrapped around yours as if he was afraid that if he did let go, you’d disappear again. you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the way this had all worn on him too. daryl wasn’t one to talk about feelings or admit when things hurt him, but you knew him better than that. the silence between you wasn’t awkward; it was full of unspoken understanding. you had both lost too much to let go of each other now.

merle started to wander off toward his tent, mumbling something about needing sleep. “you two lovebirds catch up,” he teased, but it was half-hearted. he wasn’t cruel like he used to be— at least not to you.

as soon as his brother disappeared into his tent, daryl finally spoke, his voice low, like he was afraid to break the moment. “how’d ya make it?” he didn’t ask out of disbelief, he knew you were tough, but it was out of curiosity, needing to fill in the blanks of your absence.

you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, staring into the fire. the memories of being on your own flooded back; sleepless nights, close calls with walkers, finding shelter in abandoned houses, and the hunger that gnawed at your stomach daily. “i just kept moving,” you shrugged, your words so quiet they were almost drowned out by the crackle of the fire. “after that day at the hospital, i knew i couldn’t stay. i had no idea where i was going though, but i knew i had to keep going.”

daryl nodded, his eyes fixed on you, listening intently. he wasn’t the type to press you fore more details, but you could see the questions in his gaze. you gave him a small smile, trying to ease his worry. “i thought about you every day,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly. “it was the only thing that kept me going sometimes. knowing you were out there, somewhere.”

you watched as his jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as he processed your words. “i looked for ya,” he muttered, his voice rougher than before. “everywhere we went, i looked. really thought i lost ya.” the raw emotion in his voice made your heart twist. you reached out and placed a hand on his arm, squeezing gently.

“you didn’t lose me. i’m right here.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke. daryl’s hand found yours again, his grip firm, but this time it wasn’t just out of fear. it was something more— something unspoken but heavy between you.

“you gonna stick around now?” he asked, his voice quiter than before, almost hesitant. “stay with the group?”

you hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead yet. the idea of settling down in this camp, was both comforting and terrifying. you knew it wouldn’t be the last time you have to move, but you knew one thing for sure— you weren’t about to leave daryl again. “if you’ll have me,�� you replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

daryl gave you a quick, almost unnoticeable nod, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “ain’t goin’ anywhere without ya now,” he said gruffly, the tenderness in his words barely masked by his usual demeanour.

the firelight danced in his eyes, and for the first time in months, you felt like you could breathe again. you leaned your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes for a moment. his presence was steady and warm beside you, and for the first time since the world had gone to shit, you allowed yourself to feel safe.

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gasstationlady · 10 months ago

Text

the start of something beautiful | a lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x private!reader (fc: tyla)

lando is spotted with an unknown woman, and everyone thinks she’s another fling. however, later revealed as naomi campbell’s daughter, lando's fans slowly start to love her despite her tendency to be private.

notes: btw, i’m so sorry i’ve been mia for a while! honestly, i have a ton of drafts i’ve written over the time i didn’t post, but i lowkey hate all of them lmao. anyways, hope you enjoy this fluff :)

disclaimer: swearing. photos not mine. OLD PIC OF JAZ AND ROSS (yes it’s a warning bc i’m still mourning that relationship, and ik i’m not the only one). there are a few mistakes in the tweets that i was too lazy to fix lol. also, i hope the flow doesn’t feel too rushed!

masterlist

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbestie and 138 others

yourusername 🌸

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yourbestie 👀

↳ yourusername 🙈

yourbestie framing these pics brb ��😍

f1gossip

2,993 likes

f1gossip We received these photos of Lando and a girl today! It looks like the same girl he has been spotted with for the past 3 months, but it’s still unclear who it is. ☕️

View all 202 comments

user three months of them being pictured AND YET NONE CLEARLY CAPTURE HER FACE. that’s some bs

↳ user no deadass bc you guys had one job 🙄

user lmaoooo i know the delulu fans are crying that she’s still here

user Are we sure it's the same girl? Lmfao even if it is, he's probably going to get tired of her soon!

user god i hope people learn and treat her better than how they treated luisinha

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 759,301 others

landonorris First time trying wakeboarding 🤙

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user happy lando >>>

user Where’s your girlfriend

user not the red bull life vest lmfaoo

user lando rlly said here’s some shirtless pics to distract u

↳ user frrr but like it’s not working 😭

f1gossip

12,321 likes

f1gossip Naomi Campbell and daughter, Y/N Campbell, making an appearance at today’s GP! It's presumed that Y/N is dating Mclaren driver, Lando Norris. Our sources in the paddock mentions that the two visited the Mercedes, Ferrari, and Mclaren garages before the race. 👀

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user i'm literally in love w her she's soo beautiful 😍

user this actually makes sense that they knew each other since naomi has been connected to f1 for a while now

user I would be unstoppable if I looked like her.

user she looks so kind 🥺🥺

user oh the things i would do to reincarnate as a wealthy person’s child

user i was there and got to meet her and i’d just like to say that i’d go to war for her

landoupdates

7,626 likes

landoupdates Max, Lando, and Y/N (seen in second photo, far right) with fans at an after party! We received these pictures a few minutes ago, and the fan included “Y/N mostly stood behind as Max and Lando were asked for photos but she was so so kind !! Although you can tell she likes to keep to herself, she told me she thought my dress was cute and even got Lando’s attention for me so I could ask for a picture 😭 Also, he kept holding her hand !!!”

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user her face card is insane.

user now that we know she's naomi's daughter, i can't believe we didn't see it before LOL

user “he kept holding her hand” 😭😭😭😭😭

user I have never wanted someone to go off private so bad 😩

user honestly she’s my new fav wag

user it’s the way everyone loves her rn lmaoooo

user LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT

f1gossip

11,234 likes

f1gossip Lando, Ginge, and Ethan possibly alluding to Lando’s new relationship with Y/N in the recent Quadrant video 👀👀

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user not them clowning him 😭

user i mean we all know by now that they’re together but this was the cherry on top

user melting over how he couldn’t stop smiling 🥹

user the fact that he kept this clip in 😩😩

user I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING “LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT”

user I get it 😭 I also wouldn’t be able to hide that I’m dating Y/N

user perfect example of private but not a secret, in love with them 🥹🥹

landoupdates

5,389 likes

landoupdates A few photos of Lando and Y/N at the paddock today ☺️

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user literally my fav couple

user when is he gonna make it officially on insta

↳ user My thoughts exactly!! 😭😭 I know not everything has to be posted, but I’m just excited to see him officially announce it.

user my girl y/n looked so fucking good today

user i just want him to post her solely because i want more y/n pics

↳ user LOL you’re so real for that

landonorris

liked by yourusername, angryginge13, georgerussell63 and 1,221,334 others

landonorris We so good ❤️

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user THE HAND PLACEMENT

user not tagging her is criminal 😭😭

↳ user girl what’s the point when she’s on private

user When will it be my turn 😩

user LANDO??? OMFG

user TURN IT UP IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE 😁😁😁🔊🔊

user omggg i can’t, they’re goals

user Y/N IS SO CUTE

user i luv my parents

#f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris instagram au #f1 smau #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #lando norris au #formula 1 x reader

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citricacidprince · 4 months ago

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doodle request on relativity falls - id love 2 see ur vers of fiddleford and where he stands in the story!! :DD

Of course!!!

Oh Fiddleford, my dearly beloved Fiddleford, he’s just a little guy who makes machines that hurt people and I love him for that <3

In my Relativity Falls AU Fidds is a kid from Tennessee who moved to Gravity Falls pretty recently, like in the past year.

He’s still really handy with mechanics, like a genuine prodigy, but he’s so riddled with anxiety that it’s a battle to get him to share any of his projects outside of his robots he makes to get revenge on those who wrong him!

He really does like hanging out with the twins, he thinks their both fun and is very happy they actually wanna be his friend, however their constant ‘Getting into weird and magical trouble’ is so stress inducing to him he’s going to get gray hairs by the time he’s 20 (Dipper can relate-)

I don’t have a lot of things solidified for him yet, other than I want him to be EXTREMELY tempted to use the Memory Gun on himself, to forget a lot of the horrifying things he’s seen over the summer, but is stopped by Candy (The inventor of the gun) at the last second. You see, Candy didn’t spiral like Fiddleford did in the show, she only ever used the memory gun on herself once. However, she used it to erase every bit of knowledge she ever learned about the weirdness of Gravity Falls, and Candy had spent YEARS of her life dedicated to it, she was arguably more curious about the weirdness of Gravity Falls than Dipper was. He was only curious out of morbid curiosity, she saw the whimsy and wonder in it all. So when Candy used the Memory Gun on herself and erased such a huge chunk of her memory it cracked her psyche, not leaving her a rambling and insane kook like Fiddleford, but more oblivious and unaware to everything around her while also being a liiiiittle ‘not all there’.

Between the two of them Candy definitely got the better end of the stick. Fiddleford was deemed insane and used the memory gun over and over again until he couldn’t even remember who he was anyone, his life falling apart. Candy used it once to make sure no one could ever use her research to hurt anyone after she learned her lab partner was literally working with an otherworldly being who could go into peoples heads and it cracked her mind because her research WAS her entire life, leaving her oblivious and dazed. However, Candy managed to find people who cared about her and were willing to care for her despite this. Sure she lives in the dump, but whenever a storm comes through or she gets hungry she can always go up to her friends Grenda, Mabel Mason, or even Pacifica at some point to help her out. Fiddleford had no one.

I want Candy to give Fidds a little pep talk, convincing him that despite those memories being scary and uncomfortable he’s going to need all of them because they’re what will help him grow as a person. He can’t just pick and choose which ones he wants because one day he’ll realize he doesn’t have any memories left to burn.

Maybe there could even be a moment where Fidds tries to use the memory gun on Candy because he convinces himself he NEEDS it and doesn’t want to deal with the consequences of hating choice, but freezes up when he realizes it does work on her anymore. The realizes what he just did because of how badly he wanted that memory gun seconds after he did it and starts to tremble, dropping the memory gun as he begins uncontrollably crying that he ‘didn’t mean it’ and he’s sorry. Candy wouldn’t hold it against him, just seeing a scared kid who was so desperate to make the mind numbing anxiety that he would do anything, and she’d hug him and tell him it’s okay before leading him back to the rest of the group.

Fiddleford makes me soooo ill I love him <3

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acowardinmordor · 5 months ago

Text

I kinda want a fic where Eddie is straight. Strong Ally, totally safe, but the guy is straight. There's a few months after they successfully take down Vecna that he and Robin and Steve are all besties, living in each others' pockets. During that time, he makes a lot of jokes that Steve is going to make a great housewife someday, makes some comments that aren't quite jokes that he wishes Steve was a girl, and has some very much suppressed thoughts that the only thing stopping them is that Eddie isn't attracted to men.

Near the end of the summer, before Steve is going to follow Robin to Sarah Lawrence, Steve comes out as bi to the whole group, and Eddie, for the first time, unashamedly thinks, damn, if only I wasn't straight. Steve even gets brave a few days before they leave and broaches the topic of Steve having a crush on Eddie. Keeps saying that he's not going to hit on Eddie, but wanted to take the chance, just in case Eddie had ever thought about it.

"Sorry, Steve, I only date girls."

And the awkwardness isn't the only reason the three drift apart, but it doesn't help. They send letters and post cards between Chicago and New York, and try to call at least once a month, but they're all broke, and long distance is expensive. Two years out, and Eddie knows something weird is happening with Steve and Robin, but they don't want to talk about it. They still talk, they're still friends, they'd still die for each other, but there is something they're hiding from him. Three and a half years out, and the bureaucrats finally got their act together. 'Thanks for not telling anybody' checks get sent to everyone in the know. Very large checks.

Robin graduates, and she and Stevie have a comfortable cushion. They don't have to take horrible minimum wage jobs anymore, and some expensive things they've been saving up to do for a while can finally happen.

This is where the fic in my head actually starts.

Eddie hears all about Los Angeles from Robin, but she tells him that Stevie isn't feeling great after the trip, and that Eddie will get a letter soon.

Its four months later, almost exactly four years since the three last saw each other in person when they finally meet again. Robin got a job in Chicago, and Eddie is still there, now a full artist in a tattoo parlor, playing gigs for fun with random friends. Stevie, of course, follows Robin, and Eddie tries hard not to stay upset with the guy for the weirdness and the sometimes silence, and the very obvious distance that Steve put between them recently.

Then they see each other. Meeting up at what has to be the queerest bar in the city, and it takes Eddie way, way too long to put together what's waiting at a booth along the wall. He's an ally, he's heard all the terms and types and nodded along in supportive silence because he doesn't get it, but he's trying.

But there's Robin, sitting on the outside, with a brunette beside her, possibly the most beautiful woman Eddie has ever seen, strong, tall, long wavy chestnut hair, and a spattering of very distinct moles. The little bit of a smile she has when Eddie first comes over melts into something small and scared as Eddie stares in shock. It's Stevie, it has to be, and Robin's exclusive use of what was once only a nickname suddenly makes more sense. He knows he needs to make sure he's using the right name, pronouns, whatever she wants. He's friend of a friend with a couple trans people, and again, he doesn't get it, but he listened, and he cannot fuck this up, because it's Stevie and this must be what they were hiding, but the inside of his brain sounds like an endless loop of mic feedback for a solid sixty seconds.

Sixty seconds is an insanely long time.

Before his brain turns over and he can smile and reach the table, Stevie has shrunk into the corner, and Robin looks ready to launch herself at Eddie's throat in her soulmate's defense.

A whole list of intrusive thoughts hit Eddie all at once while his mouth runs on autopilot, asking the right questions, smiling encouragingly, introducing himself to, yes, Stevie Harrington, and dragging the mood to a happy place by sheer force of will. Stevie starts to uncurl, smiles a little brighter, sits up straight, laughs properly at Eddie's dumb stories about terrible tattoos, and leans closer as the night goes on.

He fixes the weirdness he started in his shock, because there is no way in hell he's not going to keep two of his best friends now that they live in the same city again.

But his head is stuck spiraling around a snarl of horrible, selfish, invasive thoughts. The worst of which: Stevie is now Stevie because Eddie told her that he only liked girls. And he knows thats stupid and isn't why Stevie made this choice, and he hates himself for thinking it, but the thought is still there. That Eddie wanted so badly that she's now Stevie. Another, only slightly less horrible thought, is that the immediate fairytale ending he imagined on first sight - might be ruined because Eddie is still straight, and he's just not sure about, you know, the details.

Eddie did a great job that first night, and they're back to hanging out all the time as soon as the last boxes are unpacked. It is not Stevie's fault that seeing her in a sports bra for the once confirmed that the payouts, the LA trip, and her new shirt size were related. It's not her fault that Eddie can't stop thinking about how hot she is.

It's absolutely not her fault that Eddie starts getting weird around her. He's trying, okay? He's trying so hard. But its weird for him. He likes her. That part he's certain of. Loves her, almost definitely. He thinks she's gorgeous, high confidence on that part too. He has a crush, but he knows, deeper than the rest, that Stevie isn't confident in herself yet. She acts it most of the time, but its under the surface, a thread of fear that she's not girl enough to count.

And Eddie has a crush. And Eddie can't tell her. Because Eddie won't put them in a situation where Stevie's pants come off, and Eddie suddenly can't see her as the woman she is. It would hurt Stevie so bad, and Eddie would never forgive himself.

It's not like he can ask her just how much surgery she got in LA so he can prepare. And honestly, he's not sure it would matter one way or the other. He's terrified that whatever her choice, Eddie will fuck up his reaction. The risk is unsolvable. Robin calls him out on his crush two months later, and since the other choice is even worse, Eddie lies, and says she's wrong. No crush. Nope. Not even a tiny one.

Eddie tries to will himself into becoming bisexual for an entire month, going so far as making out with a very feminine twink at a club - he thought he'd ease his way into this - but he's still decidedly straight. Rubbing against the twink's remarkably small dick wasn't repulsive, but it didn't do anything for him either. Sure, he learns there's all kinds of pleasurable things to try that he didn't know about, but he's still not into anyone but girls.

(I don't know if this is the right resolution bc Ive spun Eddie pretty tight here, but this is getting so long. )

Robin's girlfriend has a party at a gay bar for her birthday. Obviously, Eddie and Stevie are invited, and obviously, just like every other day on this earth, Stevie looks incredible. She has a sparkly dress and tall boots and glitter on her collarbones and Eddie wants to lick her. His lovelorn staring only gets worse as the night goes on. Stevie is dancing, and Eddie is drinking at the bar with a collection of purses and carabiners of keys slung around and clipped to him. It's obvious enough that a gay couple - Nick and Chris - starts teasing him about it, telling him to man up and ask the pretty girl to dance already.

Eddie is too drunk for this, and he for sure has a guilt trip later for it, but he just starts talking. All of his fears and all of his love, and how he can't ever say anything because he's tried, and he's straight anyway, and he loves Stevie too much to hurt her like that. It's an entire miracle that Eddie broke down in front of a decent pair of human beings, and not some assholes. They sweep him off to a quieter corner outside, help him calm down as he smokes, and feed him some fries.

Eddie is still wearing purses like bandoliers, is snotty and red eyed, is on his third cigarette and fourth whiskey, and resisting the need to runaway forever when the older of the couple calls over someone named Angel. A woman who, if Eddie was not hopelessly in love with Stevie, would be the source of an immediate new crush. She's older than he is, thin through the waist, thick thighs, bottle blonde hair in a ponytail, and has a few inches on Eddie with her heels. The primal part of his brain wants to climb her like a tree.

'Hi Chris. Oh, honey, you having a rough night?" Angel has a few words with Chris, then grins like the cat who caught the canary.

'You're gonna be my good karma for the month, cutie. You are attracted to me, no don't try, thats a cute blush but I can still see it behind your hair, you are. You're straight, right? Yeah, that's why you think I'm hot. Hey, Chris? Do you think I'm hot?"

"Not at all, babe. You know I only go for men."

Angel turns back to Eddie and leans close to explain. 'Chris is a bit of a man whore. Loooooves dick. Don't worry, he says it all the time. Favorite thing in the world, and I've heard he's great at sucking dick. Tragically, I never get to find out, because I'm not a guy.' She pushes the word a little. Then she steps even closer so she's pressed against his side.

Arousal sweeps through him because in love with Stevie or not, Angel is hot as hell. 'Wanna go fool around in the bathroom?' she whispers

Eddie is definitely tempted, already nodding, but doesn't get to speak. Angel rolls her hips. He feels -- A new bolt of arousal shoots down his spine. 'this change your mind at all?' Her voice drops two octaves, and Eddie's brain breaks.

Because, as it turns out, no. No, it does not change his mind. He's half hard, he still wants to climb her, and he's not entirely sure how to get her off, but he takes direction well.

'Aww, figure yourself out, already, honey? Or do you want to test run this a bit more before you go for it?' Angel is back to her real voice, a high alto. She has one hand on his chest, and Eddie can hear Nick laughing nearby. 'I won't lie, I know I won't get to keep you, but you look like we could have a real fun time as I teach you. Happy to get you trained up for her'

Eddie shakes his head, an insane mix of bubbly and numb.

'Ohhh, so you're gonna go get your girl?' She's teasing him.

Eddie nods, already moving, vaguely aware of more laughter and jokes about karma and saving lost lambs, but too fixated to listen. He's still carrying all the purses. He's not entirely sure where Stevie is in the bar. He has absolutely no idea what he's going to say when he finds her. Still not sure how to worship her properly. Extremely interested in following directions on the topic.

Eddie is still straight, but luckily, the girl of his dreams is dancing inside, and the rest of the details don't matter in the face of the possibility of finally asking her out.

When he finally chases her down at a high top with a cosmo, she laughs at how he looks, but he's never, ever seen her smile like she does when she agrees to a date with him.

This is sort of about a friend as they worked through realizing they weren't attracted to their wife after she transitioned, but that was sad, and this needed to not be. I guess I'm just thinking about the non-fanfic nature of life. Where it takes a guy a long while to figure himself out, because good intentions are separate from shifting how you think. Basically wanted Eddie in a situation where he has to reconcile the difference between gender and anatomy, and rewrite his own definitions of what he is and isn't attracted to. Robin had to go through a similar thing as she became attracted to Steve but only in the abstract. They're too platonic for gender to stop their bond

#steddie #my writing #sorta #this got so long #trans steve harrington #Eddie is confused #and straight

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mountainsandmayhem · 6 months ago

Text

BDSMaid - Chapter 2

Masterlist || AO3

Pairing: Millionaire Joel Miller x Female Reader Series Summary: After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love. Chapter Summary: Try as he might, Joel just can’t shake the memory of you. Try as you might, you can’t stop thinking of the woman tied to his desk. CW: The slow burn is burning. Mentions of death and underage drinking. Topless in public, this is a love story about BDSM after all. Reader does have some physical descriptions, so maybe more of an OFC, or just pretend you have pouty lips and a slightly upturned nose. Double POV (reader and Joel). AN: Thank you SO FUCKING MUCH for all the love on chapter one of this story. I literally cannot believe it surpasses 1000 notes in just a month, you're all insane and I love you. Dividers by @saradika-graphics. Biiiig shout outs to the bb's who have been so supportive of me spiralling and panicking this last month over the next chapter. I'd be in a deep dark cave without you @mermaidgirl30 @littlevenicebitch69 @lotusbxtch @evolnoomym @joelmillerisapunk and @milla-frenchy . Thank you! I feel like I'm giving some sort of Oscars speech and if you're still reading this, you're the real MVP. XO Word Count: 8.5k

~ Joel - 27 Years Ago ~

Joel’s stands in the garage of someone he barely knows, surrounded by drunk and rowdy classmates from his high school. He’s a senior, graduating in just a few weeks and moments like this are one of the perks of being the star designated hitter and first baseman, everyone wants you at their party. Someone hands him a warm, flat beer that was pumped poorly from a keg as they pat his back roughly in congratulations. Joel’s not sure how a bunch of seventeen year olds managed to get a keg, most likely an older brother, but he drinks the shitty beer all the same. Speaking of brothers, he hasn’t seen Tommy in a while. He’s only fifteen and he promised their mom he’d keep an eye on him. The younger Miller shouldn’t be at a seniors party, but that's where those perks come in again, because if Joel was good, Tommy was better. In fact, he was so much better that he’s played up a whole age group his entire life, always right beside Joel. Tommy was the back catcher, and tonight he got the eleventh inning game winning out at home for them to win the state championship.

He finds Tommy chatting with a group of girls, all of whom are incredibly beautiful. They’re going to be very disappointed when they find out how much younger he is than them. Joel smiles into his red solo cup as he takes a sip of stale beer. He tucks his free hand into the pocket of his light blue wranglers and walks over to the wall of the garage. He leans back and crosses one cowboy booted foot over the other. The brim of his cowboy hat grazes the unpainted drywall behind him. Texas, and the country, in the late nineties was where everyone wanted to be, and Joel Miller could have been the poster boys for teenage country boys in 1997.

Brooks & Dunn plays on someone's CD player in the corner, laughter and people talking overlaps until it’s just noise to Joel. He stands back, watching his younger brother effortlessly charm the five pretty girls around him. All of them in tight blue jeans, lacy white tops, denim vests and cowboy boots. He grabs one by the hand and Joel overhears, “I’ll teach ya how to two step, shame to not know in a place like this.” Then the motherfucker winks at her like he’s some sort of cowboy Casanova. Joel lets out a silent laugh through his nose and sips the beer again shaking his head.

Just as Tommy pulls the pretty little blonde over towards the unmarked and unofficial dance floor in the corner of the garage the song changes. Slow guitar, followed by the unmistakable twang of Tim Magraw’s voice. Joel didn’t know it then, but that song would change the course of his life and intertwine itself in the very fabric of his being.

‘Dancin’ in the dark, Middle of the night’

That’s when he sees her, tall and slender, deep olive toned skin and pale green eyes. Her dark curly hair cascades over one of her shoulders. She’s laughing with another classmate, and even though he can’t hear the sound of it over the noise of the party, he can tell it’s a light and melodic sound, and he wants to spend the rest of his life drawing that out of her.

‘Takin’ your heart, An holdin’ it tight’

He puts his warm beer on the work bench beside him and takes off his black felt Stetson, placing it over his broad chest, hoping the comfort of his favourite hat would slow the rate at which his heart is beating.

‘Emotional touch, Touchin’ my skin, And askin’ you to do, What you’ve been doin’ all over again’

She looks over at him, smiling shyly, and before he knows what he’s doing he’s walking over to her. His legs move on their own accord, knees shaking as he approaches the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

‘Oh, it’s a beautiful thing, Don’t think I can keep it all in, I just gotta let you know, What is that won’t let me go’

Everything in the room fades as she fully comes into view. Beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe the girl in front of him. She radiates a warmth that he’s only ever known his mother to radiate. It’s the first time he’s ever seen this girl, but she feels like home. This is it, that one thing that everyone says you’re supposed to feel. The thing his grandpa told him when he was younger, “Son, you’ll just know. It sounds ridiculous, but when I saw your grandma it was like a pull behind my belly button. I just knew, and I’ve known everyday since then.”

“Howdy, ma’am,” Joel says, tipping his hat to her before placing it back on his head.

She giggles, confirming his earlier thoughts. It really is the sweetest fucking sound he’s ever heard. “Hi.”

He holds out a hand to her and she takes it, her skin is so warm and smooth. In that moment he knows that hers will be the last hand he ever holds. Fire flushes through his veins as he continues, “I’m Joel, what’s your name?”

“Oh, I know who you are Joel Miller,” she flirts, not letting go of his hand. “I’m Tiffany.”

“Tiffany,” he repeats, his voice going deeper as he says it. It’s egotistical but he loves the way girls shiver just a little when he lowers his register. “And how is it that you know who I am?”

She slides her hand from his and reaches up to grab his cowboy hat, plopping it onto her head. “Star first baseman and designated hitter, everyone knows Joel Miller. Look around, look at all these girls lookin’ at you, cowboy.”

For the first time in his life Joel finds himself blushing, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Tiffany.

“I only see one girl.” She rolls her eyes and swats at his bicep at the cheesy line, but that was it for both of them. From that point they were inseparable.

They both turned eighteen a few months later, and just ten months, and a thirty two hour labour after Tiff turned eighteen, a tiny little Sarah came into the world all pink and screaming. Joel hears that song again as he watches Tiffany hold that little bundle of blankets, ‘Better than I was, More than I am, And all of this happened, By taking your hand.’

They get married when Sarah is just a few months old. Both his beautiful curly haired girls in white dresses, Tiffany grabbing that same black Stetson off his head during their first dance. He holds them both, swaying from side to side, a hot tear rolling down his cheek at how goddamn happy he is. ‘And who I am now, Is who I wanted to be, And now that we’re together, I’m stronger than ever, I’m happy and free’.

Things for their little family of three are perfect. They buy the house with the white picket fence and the wrap around porch. Joel gets a job working construction and enjoys a nightcap with his beautiful young wife on their front porch every night. They make love often, slow and sweaty, Joel worshiping her soft copper toned skin inch by glorious inch. Tiffany wraps every minute of her day around Sarah and being a sweet, devoted housewife. Nothing seems to stand in their way. Until the diagnosis shortly before Sarah starts Kindergarten.

Tiffany is too young, they’re all too young. This isn’t something that happens to people their age, they haven’t had enough time. Joel spends the next few months in a haze, it has to be a bad dream. The appointments, the treatments, the call to 911 when the illness starts to win. This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

He holds Tiffany until the very end. Sponging a soft kiss to her forehead, whispering his goodbyes as they shut off the machines keeping her here. “You’ve been so strong, my love. You fought so hard. I know you’re scared to go, I’m scared too, but we’ll do it like we do everything else. Together. I’ll be ok, Sarah will be ok. Just rest now. I love you.”

As she takes her last shaky and shallow breath, a sound will live with him until he takes a breath that matches hers, that song echoes through his hollow chest. ‘It’s your love, It does something to me, It sends a shock right through me, I can’t get enough’.

You - Present Day

You roll to a stop outside Mister Miller’s house for your second day of cleaning. As you look towards the impressive house your pussy flutters at the memories of yesterday - the almost pornographic noises that were made in that office, his soft and kind eyes as he apologized profusely in the kitchen. You were supposed to go to a study group last night, but instead you got lost in a rabbit hole of porn where women are tied up and fingered. You got yourself off four times thinking about a man you’re not even supposed to know, wishing it was his thick fingers hitting that spot inside of you that you can’t reach on your own. You felt guilty about it last night and now being back in his home you have that same sinking feeling again.

Stupid. Sacrificing my future for a fantasy. Never again.

You let yourself in the house and look at the list in your cleaning app. You pop in your AirPods and start listening to your favourite true crime podcast; thankful for the new episode, a gruesome distraction as you scrub baseboards and lightswitches. The episode ends and in an attempt to not let your mind wander to the gorgeous man that lives here, and the depraved new things you’ve discovered about yourself, you start an educational audiobook about civil rights law. You might want Joel Miller to strap you down and whisper filth in your ears, but you are a good person, and your aspiration in life is to help people who face discrimination on a daily basis.

You breeze around his home, checking off each task and before you know it it’s almost one in the afternoon. You have almost your whole list complete, his soft sheets are in the dryer (and yes, you are incredibly proud of yourself for only putting the luxurious white fabric to your face twice on the way to the washer). You only have the patio furniture to spray down and the kitchen counters to wipe. That’s when your stomach growls, almost as if to remind you that it’s the perfect time to take a break while the dryer finishes. You haul all your stuff out to your car and lock up, sitting in your front seat as you take out your lunch container.

An engine revs in the distance and your heart skips in your chest. Before you even have time to wonder if it’s Joel’s car, one of the black garage doors slides open and Joel’s obsidian coloured Aston Martin rolls by you, stopping with precision on the shiny cement floor of the garage. You avert your eyes, focused on your container of chicken noodle soup. The left side of your face feels the warmth of his gaze fixed on you. Without looking over you can tell he is studying you and it takes everything you have to keep your eyes on your measly lunch.

The afternoon sun is blocked as Joel raps his knuckles on your window. You glance over at him, looking up through your lashes. He’s looking at you intensely but you can’t quite place his expression. As always, his deep brown eyes are locked on yours, he could either be happy to see you or incredibly disappointed in you. But one thing is for sure, he’s calculating your every need with those warm and inviting eyes. He knocks again so you crank the handle to roll your window down a crack.

He raises one eyebrow at you, both hands rest on the roof of your SUV as he leans forward to speak to you through the small opening in the window. “Seriously?” His voice is laced with sarcasm.

“What?” You say, “Can’t be too safe.”

He blinks at you before continuing, “What'd ya doin’ out here?”

You lift your tupperware container a little, willing the tingles between your thighs to stop, “Eating my lunch.”

He rolls his eyes, running his hand along his greying scruff. “You’re eatin’ lukewarm soup in your car in the middle of February.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement, but his voice is warm and curious, and you start to realize that the look on his face isn’t happiness or disappointment, but concern.

You nod, “Yes.” His eyes dance around your face and you swear your heart is beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Fluttering so fast that it’s traveling up your throat and you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it.

“Get out of the car. Come warm that up and eat inside.” His voice is thick with concern, entire face soft as he looks at you.

You swallow your heart back down to where it belongs, “I’m not allowed to do that, Mister Miller.”

His cheeks redden a little and some of the softness in him disappears, “Don’t call me that, it’s jus’ Joel to you.”

“I’m not even supposed to know your name, Mister Miller. I can’t call you by your first name.”

He shifts his weight onto one foot and points a thick finger at you through your window, “Don’t. Either you call me Joel or nothin’ at all. Come inside,” he drops his pointer finger to the door handle. He pulls on it to find it locked. “Seriously?”

“I told you, I can’t be too safe!” You can help but think how cute he looks all flustered - shaking his head at you for being cautious in a neighborhood where you could probably scream your credit card number and no one would use it. If anything, the wealthy homeowners on this street might transfer you money when they see the state of your vehicle.

“You’re eatin’ inside.” He says flatly.

“I told you, I can’t. We aren’t allowed to do that. You’re a client, Mist - I mean. Sorry, I just can’t. We aren’t allowed.” You glance towards the clock on your dash. At this rate your break is going to be over before you finish eating.

He jiggles the door handle again, as if he can convince the metal to bend and unlatch itself with just his sexiness alone. “You like rules, don’t ya?”

He’s got you there, you do enjoy following the rules. You nod and hum a noise in agreement.

“Unlock the door, please,” his voice has changed, he’s being more commanding now. A deeper, huskier sound leaving his lips. The sound seems to latch onto something deep in your mind, strong fingers wrapping around the control center of your brain, guiding you to do his bidding. You blink the feeling away.

“Mister-,” his eyes flash with darkness, “Sorry. I can’t. It wouldn’t be right to eat in your house, plus my break is almost over.”

Joel releases your door handle, raising his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose and lets out a breath, as he drops his hand back to the top of your vehicle an amused smirk flashes across his face. “Do you consider yourself to work in customer service?”

“Yes,” you say nervously.

“And isn’t the main rule of customer service that the customer is always right?” His lips form a tight line and a deep dimple carves into one of his tanned cheeks. Your brain flashes back to one of the videos you watched last night, a man sucking on a woman's nipples as he rubbed her clit, her arms and legs strapped to a padded table. He had a dimple, but he had nothing on Joel.

“Yes,” you croak and then clear your throat gently, shifting in your seat at the fire building behind that bundle of nerves between your thighs.

“Then unlock the door, darlin’ and eat inside.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, turning and walking towards the house. He stops on the front step, opening the large glass front door. You follow, flip flops slapping on the concrete, carrying your powdered chicken noodle soup and plastic spoon up towards his fancy home. When you reach the threshold, he holds out his large hand palm up and you place the old, stained tupperware with your half eaten soup into it. He looks down at it and then back at you, eyes trailing along your body and it feels like he’s running a torch over you. “Is this all you have to eat?”

You nod, giving him a tight lipped smile.

He cocks his head towards the kitchen and one pushed back curl that’s laced with a few greys falls into his eyes with the movement. In order to stop from pushing his loose curl back you squeeze your fists gently and head towards the stool you sat on yesterday. As your flip flop hits the tile you stop and look back towards your car nervously. “I, umm, I forgot my shoes.”

His large, warm palm comes to your lower back and he pushes you gently towards the kitchen. You sit as he transfers your soup into a matte black bowl and places it in the microwave. He opens a cupboard and pulls out a loaf of fresh bread, as you go to protest he flicks his eyes up to yours and something about the expression on his face tells you not to argue with him. He pops the two carefully cut pieces into the toaster. He breezes effortlessly around the kitchen for someone so broad and masculine. You didn’t realize someone making toast could be so sexy. The microwave beeps and he grabs a gold spoon from a drawer before wandering around the island, placing them both in front of you. His arm brushes yours as he pulls away and your heart flutters at his touch. He walks back around the kitchen island and grabs a glass.

“Still or sparkling?” He says as if that’s just a normal question to ask when you get someone a glass of water. Just another thing that proves you don’t belong here. The toaster pops and you jump a little. He chuckles as he grabs the toast, slathering it with butter. “Still or sparkling, darlin’?”

You breath hitches, he’s called you darlin’ twice now. Is that just that southern charm you hear about so often, or is it more? You shake the thought from your head, there’s no way someone like him is interested in someone like you. “Still is fine, you don’t have to trouble yourself.”

You take a spoonful of soup, blowing on it gently before putting the spoon in your mouth. Joel is watching you in the same way he was yesterday. Assessing. Observing. Calculating. It feels like he’s looking into your very soul. He slides the plate of toast and then a glass of sparkling water over to you from across the island.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “You didn’t -”

He holds his hand up, stopping you in the same way he did yesterday. “I wanted to.”

You feel your cheeks redden and you have to look away as you take a bite of toast. He’s too handsome standing in the kitchen with the afternoon sun highlighting his features. He’s wearing a black dress shirt today, the top few buttons undone, accentuating the perfectly groomed salt and pepper hair on his chest. You swallow your bite of warm, salty, buttery toast, allowing your eyes to flutter closed at the delectable flavour, holding back a moan.

Joel clears his throat and crosses his arms across his broad chest, “So how did ya get into cleanin’ houses?”

You look up at him through your lashes. Why is he being so nice to you and taking care of you? He apologized yesterday. And after you told him it was fine he left you a massive tip. He said he wants to do this, but why? He’s rich and handsome and you can probably safely assume that that icy blonde from yesterday was his girlfriend. Unless…could she possibly be a mistress? You decide that that must be it. She’s his mistress. He has a wife. He’s just like every other rich man, cheating on his beautiful and age appropriate wife with someone much much younger than him. He’s probably terrified that you might find out who his wife is and tell her. That tip was hush money.

“I’m saving money,” you say and then shake your head, willing the thoughts in your mind to calm down. “For law school.”

“That right?” He says, raising an eyebrow at you as you take another spoonful of soup.

“Yes, I want to be a lawyer. I graduated a semester early and needed some money before going back to university. Assuming I even get accepted. This job meant I could work part time so I could study to take the LSAT again and also make good money.” You take another bite of the toast, mainly to make yourself shut up.

He watches you the entire time, nodding along, his eyes constantly assessing. “Take the LSAT again?” he asks.

“I passed it already and applied to schools but I haven’t heard back yet. Law school is pretty competitive, so I’m going to take it again and hopefully have a better mark for the next round of college applications.” You’re talking too much, you need to shut up and just eat, but Joel doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look away. No one has ever listened to you like that, not even your parents.

“Next round?” He asks curiously.

You feel your cheeks redden. You don’t want to admit to this obviously successful man in front of you that you probably won’t get accepted to any of the eight universities you applied to. “Yes. It’s competitive, and I probably won’t get in. So I’m preparing to be better the second time.”

“Where did you apply? If that’s not too forward of a question.”

“No, not too forward. Umm, a few places. Strength in numbers, I guess. Harvard, Yale, Columbia, Berkeley, Duke, University of Toronto, but I don’t think I’d survive a Canadian winter. I also applied at Notre Dame and University of Texas here in Austin.”

Joel laughs at you mentioning the Canadian winter and once you’re quiet, he looks down at his expensive dress shoes, “I, umm, I know some higher ups at UT Austin if you need me to put in a good word.”

You smile at him when he looks back up at you, “I don’t think that’s quite how it works, Joel. But thank you.”

The two of you are silent for a moment while you finish your first piece of toast. You glance up at him and he’s looking at you with that same hint of pride he had yesterday while you drank your water. He’s making you feel like eating toast is something to be proud of. You can’t explain it but his facial expression wraps around like a corset. Pulling its metaphoric laces and making you sit up taller, holding your head up higher. With just the shimmer in his deep brown eyes you feel like you could take on the world. You need to break the silence so you say, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he says, leaning back to rest on the countertop behind him. His arms uncross, his strong hands wrapping around the countertop on each side of his body.

“What do you do for a living? To have all this?” You gesture around the house as you sip your sparkling water.

“A few things. I used to own a construction company, sold it a few years ago to retire but I got bored pretty quickly. Now I own a few properties, I rent them out.” You nod as you listen to him, eating your lunch. One hand rubs at his patchy, salt and pepper beard nervously before saying, “I also own a club.”

You let out a little giggle into your water glass, immediately praying that he doesn’t think that was you being rude. Of all the professions that could have come out of his mouth, owning a nightclub was the last thing you expected. Joel smiles at the sweet melodic sound leaving your lips and relief washes over you. “Why’s that so funny?” His voice is light at his inquiry.

“It’s not,” you say after swallowing your water. He furrows his brows at you. “You just - I mean, I guess I don’t know you, but don’t seem like the nightclub type.”

“You’re right, you don’t know me. But you’re also right that I am not a nightclub type,” he states. Something about the way he says it makes you sense that that’s as far as you’re going to get with it, but you also realize that the club is probably how this man meets young women to bring home.

You put your spoon down and place your hands in your lap. “Can I umm, ask you something else?”

“Of course,” he repeats.

“What’s with that little dinosaur toy on your coffee maker?”

He smiles and reaches over to grab it, rubbing his thumb along the faded and scuffed brown paint of the little toy. He looks down at it and a hint of sadness seems to fill his coffee and amber eyes as he looks at you. “My daughter, she umm, she got it for me from the prize box in Kindergarten after her mom -” he stops mid sentence, sadness lining his features. Joel’s not married, you roll your eyes at yourself internally for thinking the worst of him. And truthfully, you of all people know he’s not married. You clean his house, you’ve been in his bedroom, and there are no women's clothes. You’ve also been in all the spare bedrooms and there’s no chance another person lives here with him. He continues, choosing his words almost carefully, “Well, just after she was gone.”

“I’m sorry, Mister,” his eyes flash onyx for just a second, he looks lethally sexy and you swallow your words before starting again. “I’m sorry, Joel.”

“It was a long time ago,” he says, placing the dinosaur back. He runs his fingers through his salt and pepper curls, letting out a little sigh. There’s a shift in him, like suddenly the world is heavier. He tries not to let it show, and maybe most people wouldn’t notice, but you see it. The slight fall in his face, a little slump in the shoulders, a breath held for just a second too long. He clears his throat gently and says, “I’ll be in my office. Eat your lunch for me, please.”

Joel

Joel closes the door of his office and rests his forehead against the smooth wooden surface. He can’t remember how much he spent on these doors when he built the house, but he would set any door that separated him from you on fire if he had to.

Get it together, Joel.

He closes his eyes and only sees you. The way your glossy, pink lips formed a little O as you blew on your soup. The way the gold plated metal spoon slid softly along your tongue. His cock twitches in his pants and he feels the urge to throw all the spoons in his house away.

Great, you’re jealous of a spoon.

He shouldn’t be home. He signed a contract, and more importantly, you signed a contract. In order to protect him and you there is to be no contact between the cleaner and the client. That’s what you consented to when you took your job at Maid Discreetly, and now he’s caused you to break that contract not once, but twice. But he cannot seem to get you out of his mind, and as he sat in a meeting at his club he couldn’t focus. You were here, cleaning his home in that form fitting white polo shirt and those black pants that hugged at your hips in all the right places, and he just had to know if you were as beautiful as he remembered. Just a quick peek, he convinced himself as he made up some bullshit excuse to leave.

When he saw you sitting in your rusty SUV you looked so innocent and pure, you were more than beautiful. The afternoon sun lighting up your high cheekbones and slender, slightly upturned nose, it gave you an almost angelic glow that temporarily took his breath away. If he had to describe you in two words he would say that you were simply ravishing. For the first time in almost thirty years he wished he still had the calming comfort of that black felt cowboy hat. But that soft Stetson went with her because she loved it so much.

As he caught his breath and looked at you from his garage, he was overcome with an urge to bruise and corrupt you. He’s a bad man for the thoughts he's been having about you. He can’t help himself, but even in his most twisted of fantasies, he’d never do anything you didn’t want him to. But, fuck, he’s sure he could mold you into exactly what he wants in a submissive.

Joel isn’t new to the world of kink; he’s had many subs, all of whom have referred to him as Mister Miller. However, his name has never sounded so fucking sweet as it did coming off your lips. Those two little words leaving your pouty, pink lips feel like that first sip of whiskey after a long day, and it might kill him if he doesn’t make you his.

He sighs into the white wood of the door before standing and walking to sit behind his desk. He drops into the soft leather chair and lets his head fall back onto the headrest and closes his eyes. What is it about you? Why can’t he stop thinking about you? You’re way too young. Way too sweet. Way too…sinless. And even though he can’t explain it, and he knows you don’t know it, you’re way too “exactly-what-is-going-to-ruin-his-entire-life”.

You’re not someone he can just play with. No, he’s good at reading people, and you’re the kind of person that deserves being invested into. You’re also not someone who is going to stick around. You have dreams and well laid out plans on how you’re going to achieve them. He can’t cage you in, he’ll have to let you spread your wings and fly no matter how much he sees himself as the man he used to be reflected back in your eyes.

He opens his eyes and pictures you kneeling in the corner, perfectly manicured hands that he pays for you to have done weekly folded on your lap as he works. He imagines calling you over with a curl of his fingers, you crawling across the plush carpet and resting your head on his lap as he responds to emails, takes calls, or plans events. He could reach down and run his fingers through your soft, silky hair as you nuzzled deeper into his lap with your cheek. “My perfect, sweet girl,” he’d hum.

His body falls forward, forehead hitting the sturdy wooden desk with a thump. Jesus Christ, Joel.

It was one thing when he only found you beautiful - he could live with being attracted to you, he could find a way around it or stuff that attraction down, maybe he’d find a new sub to distract himself with. That would be easy for him, but then you had to open your mouth, you had to speak so passionately about your future. Why couldn’t you just be pretty like all the other women he plays with? You might be one of the most driven people he knows: the way you push yourself, already planning for the next “no”. And that kills him, ruins him really that you are programmed to think there will automatically be a “no” and that you’ll have to endure another round of LSAT’s and college applications. You’re smart, and he wants to kill whoever made you feel like you need to push yourself this hard.

His phone vibrates in his pocket; annoyance courses through his body until he sees his brother's name across the pristine screen of his newest iPhone Max.

“Ya?” He says harshly.

“Everything ok with the alarm?”

Joel’s mind goes blank, “What?”

Tommy is silent for a second before he responds slowly, “The alarm? You left in the middle of a meeting because of an alarm.”

Joel shakes his head. Right, the alarm. The bullshit excuse he made up so he could leave to see you. “Ya, right. Ya, it’s fine. Got it all, umm, all fixed up. Should be back soon.”

“You ok, brother?” Tommy asks suspiciously. “You seemed, I dunno, distracted today.”

“I’m fine,” Joel snaps.

“Alright. Well, come back soon, pretty big night here and we need ya.”

Joel hangs up without saying goodbye. He’s the owner, he knows it’s a big night, but he’s sort of busy having an existential crisis over possibly being in love with his house cleaner. Whoa, in love? Pump the fucking brakes. Joel’s heart stops beating for a second at the thought of it. He can’t possibly be in love; he doesn’t fall in love. No, he decides, it’s just because she’s new, and exactly my type, and it’s been a long time since I found someone that’s my type.

Just as he stands from his desk, he hears the hose outside turn on. You must be at the pool furniture part of your list. He takes this moment to sneak out of his own house, because he’s a weak man when it comes to you, apparently. He slips into the Italian leather front seat and lets the new car smell waft over him; he loves the smells of a new sports car and has never owned one long enough for it to stop smelling that way. It’s a matter of status to him. He takes a good hard look at himself in the rear view mirror. That’s enough now. For both of your sakes. Leave her alone.

You

After spraying down the pool furniture you rush inside to warm up. Seriously, who needs their pool stuff cleaned in the fucking winter? As you jog up the stairs to grab Joel’s freshly laundered sheets, you blow into your cupped palms. The warmth spreads from your frozen fingertips to your palms. Joel’s office is empty; he must have left while you were outside. Your brain swirls with unanswered questions as you pull the fitted sheet back onto his king size bed. Why would he come home? First of all, he knows you’re here this time and second of all, he knows he’s not supposed to be here. So why? And then there’s his calculating stare, always watching and usually with a flash of pride in his features. Did he come back here just to talk to you? Maybe even to get to know you?

It’s safe to say that you’re more confused than ever, and you make a mental schedule of studying and reading to keep you busy later tonight so you won’t spend hours trying to google him again.

It takes way too much effort, and a silent promise to yourself to get back to the gym, but you manage to wrestle the oversized duvet back into its cover just as three o’clock rolls around. You jog down the wide, open staircase and your phone bings in your back pocket. Jamie’s name is splayed across your cracked screen, the sunset from your last trip to California shining back at you.

What are you doing tonight? Want to make a bunch of money serving drinks topless?

You laugh to yourself. Truthfully, nothing Jamie asks you seems to surprise you, and some sort of odd job where you’re topless or in a sexy outfit is practically a guarantee as a condition of your friendship. As you reach for the black envelope on the kitchen island you text back.

What?

You barely have the thick parchment of the envelope open when she responds, like she already had the text locked and loaded and was just waiting for you to try to fight her on it.

Remember Laren? My cousin? She has a topless catering company and needs help tonight. It’s at some exclusive VIP poker game downtown. 4 hours, $300 + tips.

You respond as a thousand dollars falls out of the tip envelope.

I’m in.

Jamie picks you up a few hours later and parks her blacked out Range Rover in the alleyway behind a shiny black building in the heart of downtown. You’re once again surrounded by wealth and success thanks to Jamie. The dress code tonight is a black pencil skirt, black heels, your tits, and a bow tie that Laren will give you. Speaking of whom, Laren is holding open a staff door for you and Jamie with her hip, waving the two of you into the warmth of the building. She pulls you both into a big hug, “Thank fuck! You two saved my ass tonight. Gotta love having friends and family with great tits!”

“You’re so weird,” Jamie says, brushing past her and into the building. You follow her in before Laren ushers you towards a service elevator.

“They’ve already started, you’re part of the second shift. I think the first set of girls made about four hundred each in tips, helps if you serve the guys that are winning though. The first round of games is almost over, winners move on soon.”

“How were their tits though? As great as ours?” You joke. Underneath the calm and collected mask you’re wearing you are definitely nervous. All these strange men are going to see you half naked, you know nothing about poker or serving drinks. Your two friends laugh as the elevator opens to a small changing room. Girls from the first shift are putting their tops back on, handing the bow ties back to Laren who gives them to you and Jamie.

She cocks her head towards a swinging door, “Just through there when you’re done. Go to the bartender for a tray and table assignment. Two girls per table and only six seats so it should be pretty easy. Make sure you smile!”

“Yes, ma’am,” you and Jamie say teasingly as you strip off your tops and bras. She flips you the middle finger as she heads back out to the poker game to supervise. The cool air of the room stiffens your nipples, nerves fluttering behind your navel as you put the bow tie on.

You overhear the girls that are leaving talking about the men, “Did you see the one with the curly hair at the table by the bar?”, one says.

The other responds, “He was so fucking hot. Total daddy, I think he owns this place.”

A third pipes up with, “Fuck, I should have flirted more. I could use a sugar daddy.”

As they walk towards the elevator the first girl says, “Did you know that this is a sex club? Too bad we can’t go explore the rest.” They giggle as they leave and you take a steadying breath. You’re going to be topless, in a sex club.

“Ready?” Jamie asks, adjusting her bowtie around her slender neck.

“Did you know this is a sex club?”

She laughs, “Ya, it’s like an exclusive kink club apparently. Laren said it’s owned by two brothers who are insanely hot. Maybe I should see if they need a maid.” She winks at you as you both walk towards the swinging door.

You step into the dimly lit room and find the bar directly across from you. After rolling your shoulders back and down, you cross the dark hardwood floor to the bar. Everything in the room is black or deep forest green. Black paint covers the walls, your heels click against the sturdy black wooden floors, even the poker tables and chairs are black. A pop of deep green velvet only along the seats and table tops. It looks soft, like one of those fuzzy blankets you have on your couch and you fight the urge to run your hand across one of the empty tables as you pass.

The bartender hands Jamie a tray first and then quietly tells her to go to the table in the far right corner. She sways her hips like the sultry goddess she is as she walks to the table. Relief floods through you when you notice that none of the men have raised their eyes, they’re focused intently on the card game. This isn’t some sleazy club like you initially thought when you heard ‘sex club’ leave the lips of the other servers. You relax a little at being able to just be yourself tonight, maybe a bit more naked than you’d usually be but yourself nonetheless.

You take the black marble serving tray as the bartender points to the table closest to the bar. The curly hair man that the women were talking about in the change room faces away from you. Your heart leaps in your chest. Joel. As you approach the other server standing behind the table, he starts to turn his head. Time stops, your heart speeds up, and it starts to feel simultaneously too hot and too cold in the room all at the same time. It’s almost as if he’s turning his head in slow motion. As you catch his side profile he has the same hooked nose, in the dim light of the room you can’t see any greys along his temples and he doesn’t appear to have a beard. After what feels like an hour, his eyes finally meet yours and you let out a breath, although you aren’t sure if it’s disappointment or relief leaving your lungs. It’s not Joel Miller.

“Mind bringin’ me another Macallan neat, sweetheart?” His eyes stay locked on yours as he smiles at you sweetly. He holds the crystal glass out for you and you take it with a soft ‘yes, sir.’

Something about those eyes, and the way they flash darkly at being called sir, feels all too familiar. In the time it takes for you to take the six or seven steps to the bar you convince yourself that it’s just your brain seeing him everywhere. You tell yourself that when you bring this drink back he’ll look nothing like the man you caught knuckles deep in a woman as she cried out, nothing like the man who was so gentle and sweet, yet slightly bossy and commanding with you this afternoon.

That’s definitely it, you say to yourself with finality. You’re just cock drunk over a cock you’ll never have.

The bartender pops the whiskey open and the hair on the back of your neck stands up, you can feel someone looking at you. Almost feel their stare heating the right side of your body. It feels as if all of your exposed skin is being covered by the gaze of whomever is looking at you, shielding you protectively from the view of the other men. The bartender's eyes flick to the corner of the room and then back to you while he hands you the drink. The shift of his gaze confirms that you weren’t imagining it, there is someone looking at you. You place the whiskey on your tray and spin cautiously to the right, stopping dead in your tracks when you lock eyes with Joel Miller. He looks dangerous, sitting at a low table along the wall, his face just barely illuminated by a single candle on the dark wooden table top. His fingers are laced together, forearms of his black dress shirt resting on the knees of his black dress pants. His lips are pressed in a thin, disapproving line.

He stalks over to you and you wish your tray was empty so you could shield your tits from him. The way he moves is almost menacing, like a jaguar stalking his prey, his eyes are almost black in the low light of the room. Your nipples stiffen under his intense gaze, your mouth fills with saliva and you gulp loudly. You stand frozen, the whiskey for that man you had convinced yourself isn’t related to Joel forgotten about on your tray. He plucks the drink off the marble slab, the glass looking like one of those disposable paper cups you have in your bathroom in his hand. He takes two long strides and drops the glass beside the man.

“Thanks,” he starts to coo, a ten dollar bill clasped between two fingers. After realizing it’s not you, he adds a confused, “Brother?”

He tries to pull the money back, but Joel is quicker. Snatching it from his brother's grasp and tucking it into the breast pocket of his dress shirt. Joel turns back to you and steps in closely, your lower back hitting the cold marble bartop and you gasp, arching your back and naked breasts towards Joel. His jaw flexes as he fights to keep his eyes level with yours.

“What are you doin’ here?” he says in a harsh whisper.

“I’m working,” it comes out a lot more bratty and defiant than you intend it to.

“Not here you ain’t.”

You take a small step forward, your hard nipples lightly grazing the soft fabric of his black dress shirt. “I’m not leaving.”

His hand circles your bicep and you twist out of his grasp. “You’re makin’ a scene, darlin’.”

“You are, Joel. I’m just trying to make money.” He grabs you more firmly this time, not tight enough to hurt you but enough for you to know he means business.

What’s his problem anyway? He doesn’t own you. What you do outside his home is none of his business. He can boss you around via an app every other week, but that’s it. That’s where it ends. You glance desperately over at Jamie to find her back to you as she speaks softly with a man who’s waiting for the next round of poker. Her hand grazes his bicep flirtatiously, she makes it look too easy to get what she wants from men. Joel guides you towards the staff changing room, keeping your body in the dark edges of the room. He’s breathing heavily through his nose, like an angry dragon and you’re honestly surprised smoke isn’t billowing out of his nostrils.

In the bright lights of the changing room you feel more exposed than ever. You want to lift your tray, but in order to prove to him that you don’t care what he or anyone thinks you don’t. In fact, you stand up taller, holding your head high and pushing your chest out. It’s infinitesimal but he looks down just for a nano second. You smirk when his eyes come back to you.

“Put a shirt on.”

“If none of the other girls have to put a shirt on then neither do I.” You pop your hip out and pull your arm free from his large calloused hand and rest it on your hip.

“Don’t fight me on this.”

“I’m not fighting. You are. So all those other girls are fine, but I’m not? Why? My tits aren’t big enough for you?”

“That’s not,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a breath with his eyes closed. When he reopens them his eyes land softly on yours. “I just need you not to be here. Please.”

Bright red anger sparks along the sides of your eyes. Seriously, who does he think he is? “You aren’t the boss here, Mister Miller.”

“Do NOT call me that.” His neck flushes the same colour as your vision. You stand your ground, eyes narrowing into glaring slits. What is his aversion to being called Mister Miller, and why does it turn you on a little bit to rile him up when you use it?

“You aren’t my boss or my dad, Joel. You can’t make me leave or tell me what jobs I can or can’t take.” You’ve figuratively dug your heels in, you aren’t leaving. He can’t make you. Only Laren or whoever owns this sex club can ask that of you. “You can’t kick me out like you own the place.”

“Actually,” he says darkly, “I can.”

“What?” You say through a nervous breath, eyes widening.

“I own the place. So I can kick you out, and I am kicking you out. Get your shirt.”

Your shoulders fall slightly. You feel about two feet tall with the realization that he doesn’t want you here. This afternoon you thought that maybe he cared, he seemed like he cared, and now you’re half naked and he wants you to leave. He watches as you unclasp your bow tie and slide on your bra and shirt.

You look over at Jamie’s clothes and it dawns on you that you didn’t drive here. Your face falls as you blink around the room and then towards Joel.

“What’s wrong?” he says through thick concern.

“Nothing. I just…”

He steps towards you, he’s so broad, his presence so large that you start to feel almost claustrophobic when he’s this close, but you never want him to step away. You’d happily let him smother you with his innate Joel-ness. “You just what?”

“I didn’t drive here,” you say quietly, looking down at your hands. Your left thumb nail immediately finds purchase along the cuticle of your right thumb.

His strong palm cups your chin, lifting until he’s looking at you again. You’re becoming more and more used to the amount of eye contact Joel seems to make. He seems constantly dialed in on you when you’re in the same room.

Yes, I would be very happy to let him smother me.

The harsh lines of his face soften, “I can get you a car. They’ll meet you at the staff door.”

You nod into his hand and find it exceedingly hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you that way. He drops your chin and turns his large, broad body back towards the swinging door. He looks over his shoulder and says, “I’m sorry. I just can’t have you here, this is on me.” His voice is soft and sad, almost as if he’s full of remorse and just hoping you won’t hate him before heading back into the poker game. Any bit of anger is flushed from your system, replaced with the disappointment of having to leave wherever Joel is.

You drag your feet to the elevator and then towards the staff exit. You let the heavy door close behind you with a loud bang as a blacked out SUV pulls up. The driver says your first and last name as he opens the back door for you. You look towards the black building one last time.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t have you here, this is on me.”

JMKink is written in shiny metallic black on the door and all the information of the evening hits you at once. JMK. Joel Miller Kink. Joel Miller, insanely handsome millionaire, owns a sex club.

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