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#and of course he's been working from home so this is like an every other day level of violent grief
golden1u5t · 2 days
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idk if you’re still taking requests for this, but i wanted to request daisy prompt 5 with early seasons reid, like maybe the lila archer episode but reader has been PINING for reid for god knows how long??
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ꨄ pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
ꨄ genre: fluff
ꨄ prompt: daisy 5: “you’re cute when you’re jealous.”
ꨄ summary: you and spencer had been in your early stages of your relationship when lila archer came along. you already weren’t fond of her when she’d been giving spencer heart eyes the whole time but when gideon sent him to watch over her for the night, that really set you off.
ꨄ a/n: sorry angel i skip the lila episode every time i watch the show so i haven’t seen it in a while, sorry if the details are wrong.
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did he really expect you to protest against gideons instructions for him to be lila’s bodyguard for the day? not exactly but he did expect you to have some type of reaction, something other than a glance in his direction before excusing yourself from the room. a small part of him wanted you to make a big deal about it but he knew that’s not the type of person you are.
spencer didnt see you again after you left the room but he did look for you before he left to go to lila’s house, though you were nowhere to be found. while he stayed at her house for the night, watching over her like the good guy he is, you were at the precinct with the rest of the team trying to figure out the unsub. you weren’t exactly liking the fact that he would be gone with another girl all night but then again there wasn’t much you could do about it, especially since you and spencer had only been “seeing” each other for a few weeks.
it had been some hours since he left with lila and you and the team were taking a break to have dinner. you had already finished with your dinner so you stepped outside to call him before you had to get back to working.
“how’s your girl?” you asked him, your voice was practically dripping with sarcasm. you lowered your head since the wind had started to blow a bit harder since you got out there and you didn’t want it interfering with the sound of the phone call.
“she’s not ‘my girl’ and she’s doing fine, a little flustered but fine nonetheless.” he mumbled into the phone. when he turned around his eyes landed on lila in the kitchen pouring a glass of wine. he had stepped outside to take your phone call so that she couldn’t hear.
“of course she flustered, you should’ve seen how she was staring at you with heart eyes and now she’s got you in her home for the night.” you shook your head and let out a soft scoff, your lips turning down into a frown.
there was a pause on his end which had you lifting up and looking down the street, biting your lip as you thought that maybe you’d scared him away with how straightforward you were. your thoughts were cut off by the sound of his voice.
“you’re jealous.” he stated, you could hear the smile on his face through his voice and it had you letting out a breath of relief but still rolling your eyes. “i- i like that. you’re cute when you’re jealous.”
now it was your turn to go silent for a brief second, you could feel your skin start to heat up despite the harsh blow of the wind against your skin. “i’m not jealous.”
“you totally are.” you could hear spencer laugh for a second and then lila’s voice calling his name, the smile you once sported dropping almost immediately.
you didn’t particularly like lila even if she hadn’t really done anything to you except like spencer, but in reality that was enough for you to dislike any woman.
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celestialwhoree · 16 hours
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whilst I'm hyperfixating on dolls, thinking about protective childhood best friend Gaz💕🎀
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His feelings had started off strictly platonic, protective over the quiet girl next door, who barely spoke up in class, and was generally an outcast due to her being perceived as 'weird' for enjoying picking flowers as to playing sports, and trawling antique shops instead of partying.
As you'd grown up alongside each other, that sentiment had only strengthened. He still so vividly remembers the day he came home to you sat on his porch step, a broken doll, a Blythe that you'd spent hours customising with such love, broken to bits. He'd obviously done the rational thing - spent weeks working in his dad's garage to fix her up, getting his mum to help him sew her teeny tiny dress back up, even asking around the pharmacy for if they sold 'those stick on eyelashes', to the amusement of most of the Boots staff.
To this day, he credits your prompting, and his mums patience for his emergency suturing skills. And Blythe, of course.
He's since made a habit of contributing to your collection, somehow acquiring originals from the seventies still in their boxes, or buying customs that you're sure sell for copious amounts of money. He wasn't there to protect you and your precious doll once, so he'll be sure to make up for it every day since. There's no weirdness about it either. To him, it's cute.
However, when you'd started dating...
Of course, he still had no problem with the collection of little you's on various shelves throughout the house. Save for the bedroom Blythe, lingering on the dresser like some freaky, big headed little guardian angel, who he's convinced is sending him bad juju every time he tries to get nasty with you. Her creator. Mary Shelley type shit.
It becomes second nature for him to turn her around as soon as the two of you go stumbling into the bedroom.
And he begs you to put her in the closet when you go to sleep.
Turns out your SAS boyfriend who's been supporting your collection for years is fucking scared of dolls.
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Kyle 'gaz' 'bad Blythe bruja' Garrick
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ask-funnybunnydoll · 21 hours
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Hi!
I think I have to move on.
You may have noticed that all of a sudden my posts have become less and less frequent. That's not on purpose I simply don't have the motivation to keep this ask blog going. I made this blog at the peak of my TADC hyperfixation because I knew it would give me the boost to work. At the start I made like, what? 2 a day, wowzas! Then it became like every other day posts. It's not that I don't enjoy the blog, the ship, the asks. Hell, the asks were the best part of this, I love just seeing what you guys come up with for these three and I get to do the even more fun part of drawing the answer.
But I still have no motivation to keep this going. And I have fixated on something else if you follow my main.
So, thank you for being here and still liking my posts even if I hadn't posted often. This was the most fun I've had and being my first ask blog I ever created just makes it more important to me.
I probably won't ever revive this blog but I'll keep it open for you. And if you want to see what the story I originally planned out was gonna be then check below the cut! Or if you wanna stay curious and theorize then just scroll by. Thank you again, hope ya have a great day and year. I hope my shit was at least okay to you.
I'm not gonna lie. Most of the stuff was just created along the way of drawing. I was like, huh this would be cool let's add that in. And ofc I didn't get to any juicy lore in this but it would've been rushed because I didn't plan beforehand... which you probably could tell xd
For Pomni, here's the plot twist: she's dead and her conscience was updated into the game to keep her somewhat alive. She worked in the place that created the game, she even took part in putting people in there. The entire game was just an expirement to test if immortality was possible, but of course.. everyone goes insane in there so they have to keep on and keep on trying with more and more people to get anywhere. They wait until someone goes to edge of absolute insanity and that's when they take them out of the game, their bodies are still kept alive and they go back to normal. They forget everything that happened while in the game. For Pomni she died just after her conscience was converted to the game, for others they were forced to go while alive. Who killed Pomni? Well, her boss, the head of the experimentation. Why? Idk 😭
For Jax, I gave him a dark story. He was isolated in his home and kept away from the outside world, which is why he lacks empathy, because he simply doesn't know how to feel that way when he never really had knowledge of emotions outside or even inside his home. His father was emotionally and physically ab4sive so.. that didn't help. He latched onto his mother the most but they never saw eachother often. That's all I had for him in mind.
For Ragatha, she lived in the country on her own land with her husband. Yup! She had a husband and a daughter too. Husband was a total jerk and she couldn't leave because she didn't want their kid to experience separated parents. She's a doll in the game because it resembles the doll she made for her daughter.
I also had some plot that I made up in my mind. Like.... Pomni at the end would be the last one alone in the digital circus. That being since she's dead she would just be yknow. Dead if she left the game. Jax and Ragatha leave but only because Pomni forces them. Again don't know how, I probably would have made it up while I went along with the story. So, Pomni is just there alone, with Caine. And she lives like that for eternity. She doesn't go insane anymore and it isn't as lonely as it used to feel like. It would feel like home kind of. But she would be there, longing for her partners forever unless she decides one day to just. Yknow, die..
Also since Jax and Ragatha would forget everything after they leave the game, they just don't remember they were in a relationship and would live their lives like before. Sad and lonely.
Goodness, I forget I make the most sad stories ever sometimes 😭
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quasi-normalcy · 7 hours
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Actually, you know what? Ever since I learned that Ira Steven Behr signed that grossly unfair letter against Jonathan Glazer, I've been forced to kind of reevaluate some of my interpretations of things in Deep Space Nine.
Like Section 31. I was willing to suppose that it was always and only intended to be villainous. But knowing as I do now that the showrunner who included it is perfectly willing to turn a blind eye to genocide, I'm forced to wonder...was it critical? Was it?
Like, let's consider canon here. In "Statistical Probabilities", Bashir and the other augments calculate, in no uncertain terms, that the Federation can't win its war with the Dominion. Their model even accurately forecasts things that happen later in the series: the Romulans declaring war on the Dominion; a full-scale revolt on Cardassia Prime. The end of the episode kind of pooh-poohs their model, like, "Well you couldn't even forecast what Serena would do in this room" but like...(1) the premise is basically lifted from Asimov's psychohistory concept, which works on populations rather than individuals, and (2) there's even a line of dialogue in the episode saying that the models become *less* uncertain the further you go in time. And indeed, the Federation ultimately wins the war not because any of their assumptions were wrong, but because there was another factor that they weren't aware of: the Changeling plague. The plague that had, of course, been engineered by Section 31 to exterminate the Changelings.
So again you have to ask: *was* this critical? Or was the real message that a black ops division willing to commit genocide is necessary to preserve a "utopian" society, no matter how squeamish it makes a naïve idealist like Bashir? And yeah, the war is ultimately won by an act of compassion, but only *after* Bashir sinks to S31's level by kidnapping Sloane and invading his mind with illicit technology. So...is this really a win for idealism?
And then we have the Jem'Hadar. They're a race of slave soldiers, genetically engineered to require a compound that only the Changelings can give them. By any reasonable standard, they're victims. And yet, the series goes out of its way, especially in "The Abandoned", to establish that they're irredeemable. You can't save them. Victims of colonialism they may be, but your only choice is to kill them, or else they--preternaturally violent almost from the moment that they're born--*will* kill you. And of course, I've long assumed that this was just a really unfortunate attempt to subvert what had become the standard "I, Borg" style Star Trek trope where your enemies become less scary once you get to know them, but like. I would say that there's pretty close to a one-to-one correspondence between this premise and the ideology excusing the mass murder of children in Gaza.
Or the Maquis. There's this line at the start of "For the Uniform" where Sisko tells Eddington that he regards the refugees in the Demilitarized Zone as being "Victims of the Maquis", because they've kept alive the forlorn hope that they would ever be allowed to return to their homes and...Jesus, when I write it out like that, Hello, Palestinian Right of Return. [The episode of course ends with Sisko bombing a Maquis colony with chemical weapons, though it is somewhat less objectionable in practice than I'm making it sound here].
And you know what...I get that DS9 is a show that's intended to have moral complexity, and to be kind of ambiguous in a lot places, and not to give you simple answers and so on. And I'm *not* trying to do the standard JK Rowling/ Joss Whedon/ Justin Roiland thing where a creator falls from grace for whatever reason and people comb through their oeuvre to show that they were always wicked and fans were stupid for not seeing it earlier or whatever. But I will say that these things hit different when you know that the series was show-run for five seasons, comprising every episode that I've just named, by a man who would go on to sign his name to a letter maliciously quoting Jonathan Glazer out of context to drag him for condemning an active genocide. And given that I've been a fan of DS9 for basically my entire life, this is deeply unsettling to me.
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postmortemnivis · 3 days
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the ghosts of the past were the only thing that truly scared the ghost, the man who if someone'd seen him walking towards them from across the street at night, they would've started calling the first helpline number available and saying their prayers, even if they weren't believers .
in truth, ghost wasn't a troubled man, he barely was what was left of one, simon.
ghost wasn't a troubled man, but he was all that was left of one. every time the thick balaclava slipped on simons face, he'd turn off the few emotions that were still left in his body, mind running on autopilot as he coldly shut off his scarred heart. simon needed that, both a relief and a way to turn everything off, he needed to know it wasnt him killing people. it made his heart rest better to know it was ghost, not simon.
simon, who'd gone through hell and back, watching his friends, honourable soldiers, fall by the hand of a simple yet fatal mistake.
simon, whose family was slaughtered and he felt so helpless and unworthy, because why join the military and train to fight when he couldn't even protect his three years old nephew?
feeling so low he could barely keep his brown eyes open, he didn't think he was a man who deserved to live. why, when nobody was there to live with him? sure, johnny and kyle could try to cheer him up and distract him as much as they wanted, but they couldn't follow simon to his flat by the railways, in front of the man united stadium. price regularly called him: every other day to check up on him, ask him if he fancied a pint. simon rarely said yes, but he was grateful price didn't forget about him the moment they left base, it made him feel like he was, after all, someone. more than once even kyle booked a cheap hotel room near simon's place so he could spend time with him. forcing him to go outside and meet up with him and price. sometimes even johnny could make it, hopping on the first train from glasgow to see his lieutenant.
simon studied the pub. ironically, kyle always decided to drag him to the pub where simon spent his late teens with his mates from the time. that was, of course, before simon turned eighteen, and without speaking a word to anyone, left to join the military a week after his birthday. when he'd first come back, almost a year later, all his friends had either moved out of manchester or thought he'd moved out too, cutting off contacts. it was a shock for the few ones left to see his dog tags underneath his shirt when he first showed up again.
it was meaningless.
he was meaningless. flesh on bone, a heart pumping his veins full of life without him being able to stop it.
simons complete view of life was of suffocating suffering, a meaningless amount of time he had to spend on this earth for what he used to believe was for a greater good. there was not such a thing, simon was sure of it now, a bottle of beer in his left hand as his right one brought his cigarette to his chapped, pale lips. he looked down the river irwin, the city noise muffled out by the quiet and calm chatter of people walking past him. he felt almost envious. they had someone to talk to.
but he'd never been the loquacious type either, tommy always did the talking, simon usually dragging both of their arses out of the messes tommy brought them in. that's how it worked, their dynamic. his brother talked, too much sometimes, even for him, and he made sure nothing happened, as easy as that. simon was the one who stepped in when things got bad, in any situation: outside of the pub with a drunk man that tommy'd pissed off with his witty remarks, older boys at school when they were children, or at home, with their father. needless to say, simon got the most of the beatings, scars adorning the skin of his back even before stepping on the field. the cigarette burns on his arms and legs itched every time he'd think too much about it.
ever since finding his brothers corpse on the stairs of his own home, front door unlocked, his wife and son dead on the master bedroom's bed, he'd been craving what it felt like to love someone again. he craved loving someone, craved the feeling of something so strong it would change every fiber of his being, that would alter the chemistry of his brain. it was almost visceral, the need he had to satisfy. he despised everything good there was in life, anything that should bring happiness bothered him, but he was still a human being, and being human meant longing for someone else, another half.
throwing the cigarette butt in the river, he turned around, not ready to be home in less than fifteen minutes. the feeling of getting swallowed in the darkness and silence of his own home made him almost paranoid, he was driving himself crazy. simon would have chosen to throw himself in the river if given the choice to pick between that and going home, but the early rays of the dawn started blinding him, and the shadows under his eyes were becoming darker by the second. maybe he'd take a longer route.
simons restless nights became quickly part of his life, following him everywhere around the globe during the years. he found in the lack of sleep a way to control his life, he desperately needed control. when all was to shambles, control was all he needed. sleep, exercise, food, sex, attitude and performance were things he could control, and the less he let himself slip into, the more in control his tired body felt.
"five hours of bad sleep every two days won't keep you alive." price'd told him, and simon groaned.
"good then."
"we need you alive, simon."
"ya need a soldier, not me."
"we need you, simon." price insisted, shaking his head. "you're a good man, we need you."
"i'm not a good man."
until his seventh year of mourning, simon never thought he would find peace of mind, but he found it coming along with spring's sweet scented flowers and chilly breezes; you.
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maleyanderecafe · 2 days
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A Yandere Boyfriend's Sexy Punishment (Manga)
Created by: Natsuyoshi
Genre: Smut
This one is pretty much straight up sex scenes, but it does have a yandere in it and at least semi interesting reason to why he became a yandere in the first place. Like a lot of smut, this one contains dubcon though it does work out in the end as the female lead does accept him and helps him with his trauma, which is kind of...well, it's something for a smut, I suppose.
The story starts out with Rei Inukai and Miu Seno going on a date together. They've been dating for about a month now and Miu is pretty excited to be with someone like him. As they go to his apartment, Miu is flustered at the idea of going further, only to walk into his bedroom filled with her pictures. Rei catches her and the two have sex (though with Miu mostly reluctantly). Afterwards, Rei reveals how the two of them met, with Rei about to commit suicide but Miu stopping him back when she was still a high schooler. Miu gets angry that Rei forced her and she runs away leaving behind a distraught Rei. Miu and friends hang out with Rei constantly trying to call her. While going home at night, Rei brings her into his car to show that he's gotten rid of all of the pictures. When she says it isn't enough, the two have sex (though more consensually this time). They make up and continue to go on dates, though Rei will often get possessive at times and go down on Miu. Rei goes out on a business trip and the two promise to call each other every night. Rei finds out that she's been going out with friends, and gets jealous, getting her to mastrubate as punishment. Miu gets addicted to this and mastrubates on his bed, which Rei eventually catches her doing. Rei gets more possessive over her, until Miu snaps him out of it by talking to him about it. Rei talks more about his backstory, how before he dated an abusive girlfriend who would beat him and was unsatisfied during sex. While going out to buy a gift for her, he finds her cheating with another man which lead to him trying to commit suicide. Miu feels sympathetic, promising that she is nothing like her ex and has sex with him. Afterwards, Miu and Rei take a picture together to get him to put up some pictures of both of them on his wall while Rei promises to become a better boyfriend.
Surprisingly there is a (sort of) arc in this smut where Rei becomes less possessive and eventually learns how to properly trust Miu. Generally in smut, the yandere is kinda just possessive for the sake of being possessive (especially if it's pretty much purely hentai) so it was nice to see why he might have developed such a strong obsessive and possessive streak with Rei. I do feel bad for Rei though considering he was abused and then subsequently cheated on by his first girlfriend, though this does explain possibly why he latched on so hard to Miu when she saved him and the idea that he wouldn't want her to leave him, which we can see when he starts shaking after Miu tells him to stop. Also, surprisingly, Miu does actually get angry and try to separate herself from Rei after he forced himself on her, which I feel like isn't that common in smut since usually it either ends the manga, or has some kind of weird thing where the female lead is okay with it. Miu does her best to try to communicate with Rei and cares about him greatly even when he becomes more forceful. It's kind of nice seeing the development of a yandere couple in a smut since we don't see it often.
In terms of yandere behavior, Rei of course has his first standard stalker wall filled with Miu's photos (which he gets rid of and then will later fill with photos of both of them), jealousy towards not only other guys that look at her but also with her friends, stalking her on social media and scribbling out their faces and of course possessiveness as he doesn't want to let Miu go. It seems he's been stalking Miu since he first met her, which explains the various photos of her when she was in high school.
Whether or not the yandere behavior will be lessen if the story wasn't a oneshot is probably not something I should be thinking about given the fact its a smut, but it's not too bad. It's already hard enough finding a semi consentual/wholesome male yandere smut stuff, and this is one of them. Pretty nice in that regard. If you think this is an interesting premise, please take a look.
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ofthecaravel · 3 days
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Heaven In Time
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Chapter 3: Bleeding Hearts, Angel Voices
Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka
Summary: The last supper. Or is it?
Tags: Religious trauma, hella guilt tripping/mentions of religious upbringing, internalized homophobia, sliiiiiight slut shaming, sibling fighting, slight sauciness
Words: 10k
A/N: As promised, here's the playlist, as well as the last chapter of this little series. Thank you all so much for being so sweet about it and I'm so happy you liked it!! Tell me all your thoughts!!! OH also, I'm aware that only Catholic priests really wear clerical collars, but I decided to include it because Josh is dramatic and would think it looks cute. Okay enjoy
~~
“This is it?”
“Yup.”
“Wow. Somewhere along the way you failed to mention that it’s absolutely gorgeous.”
“It’s practically sinking into the lake, Dan.”
Already crabby, Sam really wanted to be able to trash the house looming in front of them. But for all its ghosts and lonely corners, Sam couldn’t write off the fact that his childhood home (and Jake’s new permanent place of residence, apparently) was and had always been a sight to behold. It wasn’t particularly flashy with its modest white paneling having been frayed by weather and stained with mildew, and it certainly wasn’t modern by any means. However, with the silver maples conspiring around it and a lakeside view from the bottom of the hill it rested on, the house with all its flaws and farmhouse style charm was enough to make Danny’s eyes widen. 
“I didn’t know my parents had moved,” Sam noted softly, heart racing as he observed his brothers’ cars in the driveway and wondered where his dad’s station wagon was parked now. 
“I’m sure Jake will fill you in on everything,” Danny assured Sam as he parked next to Jake’s crappy Volvo. He cut the engine and studied Sam’s apprehensive expression out of the corner of his eye, selfishly hoping that Sam would call the whole thing off and they could drive off towards the loving embrace of Danny’s own childhood home just beyond the state border. He knew his parents and sister would absolutely adore Sam, but he wasn’t sure that Sam’s brothers would welcome him as readily.
“Okay,” Sam blurted, smacking his hands against his thighs and letting out a fast exhale. “Quick overview before we go in.”
“Right,” Danny nodded. Honestly, he could use a refresher. It was always a struggle to get Sam to talk about his family like this.
“Josh is the oldest,” Sam started, beginning his list of points by marking them on his fingers. “Technically. He’s older than Jake by, like, I don’t remember, a couple of minutes. Super friendly, loud as fuck, took up my dad’s pastoral duties after he got deep into the televangelist bullshit that I’m sure he’s still doing now. He was a natural, of course, given that there’s nothing he loves more than the sound of his own voice.”
“Harsh.”
“Dude, trust me. You’ll get what I mean. Anyways, you’ve met Jake. Sort of. He’s very…passionate, which you’ve seen. Kind of hot headed, very one track minded. He basically runs the whole ministry from the shadows, even when Dad was still pastor. Josh gives the go ahead, but Jake’s the organizer. He’s busy 24/7 and has been since they were, like, 12.”
���Doesn’t sound very sustainable,” Danny commented. Sam let out a laugh and shook his head.
“It is not,” Sam agreed bitterly. “But he likes barking orders and playing puppet master, so I guess it works for him. And, I mean, school and youth group pretty much taught us that there was no other way for us to live other than doing church shit all day every day, so I can’t say I’m surprised he turned out this way.”
“Pretty relentless, huh?”
“Yup. Especially when your dad’s running aforementioned church and giving you shit for doing anything, I don’t know, childlike? Or for just enjoying stuff?”
“Definitely explains why Jake was such a dick about your cute ‘fit,” Danny said. “Those values trickle down if you let them, I guess. I still don’t think you had to change, by the way.”
“I definitely did,” Sam muttered, looking down at the plain jeans he’d pulled from his suitcase and the thin flannel he’d buttoned over his chest after their backseat tryst. “Josh would’ve lost his shit. No way he’d go full ‘Ooh, look at me, I’m a man of God and that means I get to preach with corporal punishment’ route, but he’d sure as hell think about it if I showed up in those shorts.”
“Baby,” Danny lamented, heart sinking as he watched Sam fiddle with a button while wearing a sullen expression. “We don’t have to do this.”
“I want to,” Sam insisted, reaching for Danny’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “For, you know, closure.”
“Okay,” Danny relented, still hesitant but trusting in Sam to know when enough is enough.
“Okay,” Sam echoed. “Okay. Okay, let’s do this.”
Sam pulled Danny in for a quick kiss of courage, bounced once in his seat, let out a nervous sound and then threw open the door and climbed out. Danny chuckled and got out, locking up the truck and watching with adoration as Sam shuffled towards the peeling front steps. 
-
“One second!”
The voice came booming through the rattling front door after Sam had given it a timid knock to the beat of three. Almost instantly, Sam’s nerves flared with electrifying panic and he spun to face Danny.
“Actually,” Sam declared in a rushed, reedy tone. “Fuck this, let’s go.”
“What?”
Before Sam could drag Danny down the stairs and bail harder than anyone has ever bailed before, the door swung open with a melodramatic bang and then there was Josh. Danny could immediately see the startling resemblance between him and Jake, but there was something particularly unique about Josh that immediately set him apart. Danny assessed his tidy curls and the clerical collar nestled snugly at the base of his neck and knew it must be these physical differences, but he stood there puzzling nonetheless. Josh’s face was lit up with a plasticine cheer that seemed to be his resting expression, but at the sight of his deserter younger brother turning to him like a deer in the headlights, his face morphed into uncharacteristic shock. Once again, Danny stood in awkward silence as the useless mediator. This time around he had the good sense to step to the side before the situation devolved.
“Oh,” Josh said simply, his graceful hands rising to cup at the sides of Sam’s face with practiced theatrics. “Oh, praise be to God. Sammy. You’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” Sam repeated, already faltering under Josh’s fiery gaze. “Hi.”
“I can’t believe it,” Josh breathed, tears glittering in his eyes as he shook his head with wonder. “I just can’t even believe it’s really you. It is, right? Or are you some agent of the Lord sent to test my faith in His protection of you?”
“Pretty sure He’s not worried about your faith, Josh,” Sam muttered, grasping Josh’s wrists and lowering them. “I’ve been protected just fine. It’s me, I swear.”
“Thank God,” Josh blubbered, throwing his arms around Sam and pulling him into a crushing hug. Despite it all, Sam accepted it gratefully, crossing his arms behind Josh’s back and holding him just as hard. This was the reunion he’d been dreading the most, but his shame was temporarily assuaged in the comfort of his brother’s embrace.
Danny kept his silence as they hugged, but eventually Josh caught his eye and appeared to register that there was someone on the porch other than Sam for the first time.
“I’m sorry, I’m being rude,” Josh began after he let Sam go, wiping a tear with the heel of his palm and presenting his other hand to Danny. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Danny,” Danny introduced himself, giving Josh a firm handshake and smiling nervously. Even though so few words had been exchanged, Danny had to admit that it was enough to feel that Josh’s presence could quickly become overwhelming.
“Daniel,” Josh grinned, pleased. “I assure you our home tonight will be no den of lions.”
“Of course,” Danny smiled, completely disbelieving of Josh’s sentiment. “Pretty sure that was revealed to me in one of my many visions. …That is what Daniel did in the Bible, right?”
Josh’s laugh erupted out of his chest and he clapped Danny on the arm with an approving grip. Sam shared a look of surprised amusement with Danny, whose shoulders flickered with a shrug as Josh came down from his laughing fit.
“Good man,” Josh wheezed. “Ah, that’s funny. Am I right in assuming you’re Sammy’s companion in the travels I’m sure he’s had? The travels I simply cannot wait to hear about?”
“Correct.”
“I’m happy to hear it,” Josh beamed, flashing his wide smile back on Sam. “I knew this would happen, you know. That He’d send you a guardian angel to watch over you. I prayed for it.”
“I’m truly blessed,” Sam agreed, giving Danny a private, bashful smile while Josh became temporarily distracted by propping open the door.
“That you are,” Josh professed, gesturing into the house as he crossed the threshold again. “All of us are, really. Now I don’t want to keep you waiting on this drafty old porch, please, come in, come in.”
Josh went in first, flying ahead of Danny and Sam as the door closed behind them and the house swallowed them whole. 
“Here we go,” Sam whispered, nearly inaudible. Josh guided them, humming and singing under his breath as he reached to graze his fingers against the walls of the hallway lined with crosses of all sizes and finish.
“It’s going good so far,” Danny whispered back. “He likes me.”
“Wait ‘til he finds out what kind of guardian angel you are,” Sam murmured. Danny flushed and snaked his arm behind Sam and gave him a pinch on his side, only inches away from the situationally appropriate angel wings messily inked on Sam’s lower back. 
Sam bit back a muffled squeak and smacked Danny in the arm. He was ready to send another flirty whisper his way, but when they emerged in the kitchen, Sam froze up once again at the sight of Jake stationed at the stove. Jake’s hair had been relieved of its outdated ponytail and skirted over his shoulders in messy waves, swaying with motion as he tended to a pan.
“When you said surprise guests, I was certainly not expecting a surprise like this!” Josh cried, shaking Jake by the shoulder. “You drive me nuts.”
“You drive me nuts, it seemed only fair,” Jake smiled. “I’m surprised you saw me come home acting the way I was and didn’t immediately know Sam had something to do with it.”
Sam let out an offended little exhale from his nose and Jake finally regarded him and Danny, renewed tension stretching between them all as he gave them a curt, impersonal nod.
“You really came,” Jake noted plainly, gaze lingering on Sam before turning back to the stovetop, pushing sizzling green tomatoes around the skillet.
“You invited us,” Sam reminded him, cautiously approaching and watching him work. “Enthusiastically, actually. Is this Grandma’s recipe?”
“Yup,” Jake answered flatly, still refusing eye contact as the oil snapped and leaped when he flipped the tomatoes.
“It smells divine,” Danny piped up. Jake gave him a side eye that Danny honored with a nervous, polite smile, but Jake ultimately shut him down with empty air. 
“It’s all divine in this house,” Josh followed up dreamily. 
“Well, hopefully it doesn’t taste like ‘disappointment’,” Jake muttered pettily, bringing up Sam’s words from the gas station. Sam sighed and took a step back from Jake, who filled his space by moving from the pan to open the oven, poking noisily at a covered tray. 
“Come on, Jake,” Sam groaned. “We come in peace. I don’t want to fight with you anymore.”
“And I don’t want this catfish to char,” Jake countered. “Scoot.”
“I’ve scooted, thanks,” Sam frowned, taking another step back. “Why are you acting like we’re showing up uninvited? You literally asked us to come.”
“Hey, what has gotten into you two?” Josh interjected, finally absorbing his twin’s clipped tone. “We should be celebrating. And we have company, so if you could save us all the trouble of picking apart your rude semantics, that would be lovely. I mean, honestly.”
Jake let out a huff and continued working to pull dinner together, plunging the kitchen into icy silence as Sam sneered at the floor to prevent any tears from creeping up on him. Danny wanted nothing more than to hoist him up and carry him out of the house, but he watched helplessly as Josh came over to Sam and gently pulled him out of the room.  
“You two can hash it out later, okay?” Josh whispered, and Sam nodded as they crossed the threshold into the wood paneled dining room. The dining table was set with four crisp placemats, all of them centered in the middle of the table under the flowering hands of the chandelier. It was odd for Sam to see, considering he’d never known the table to be set without a placemat at the head of the table for his father. 
“Sorry,” Sam apologized, falling into old habits. “We ran into Jake at a gas station and it ended…weird. You know he can be kind of-”
“Snippy?” Josh finished for him, pulling out a bundle of cutlery from a drawer. “Righteous? Yes, he can be. Lord knows I know. He’s working on it. Been working on a lot since you left, actually. Some days I swear he out prays me.”
“When did Mom and Dad move?” Sam asked, changing the conversation while robotically accepting and laying down silverware as Josh handed it to him.
“Two months ago,” Josh replied nonchalantly. “Turns out Dad’s broadcast made its way to Nebraska and amassed a following there, so they picked up to be closer to his flock.”
“Nebraska?” Sam exclaimed, nearly dropping the bundle of forks in his hand. He swallowed the revelation with a shiver of relief and an equally strong wave of grief, no doubt felt by the lonely little boy he carried inside him. Sam realized with blank shock that there was a very good chance he would never see his parents again.
“So, what, they just up and left?”
“Yeah…”
“For Nebraska?”
 Danny walked in then, unable to withstand Jake’s angry clanging for another minute.
“What’s in Nebraska?” Danny asked innocently. 
“Our parents,” Josh explained with a weak smile. “I trust Sam’s told you about our Dad’s post preaching venture?”
“A little,” Danny lied. He’d heard plenty about what the Kiszka patriarch had been up to since retiring and passing on the torch of preacher to his oldest son: good ol’ American televangelism, complete with the incensed ramblings and an addiction to being on screen. From what he heard from Sam, this came at the cost of quality time with his family. Sam had assured him the blow was softened significantly considering they’d all been fruitlessly clamoring for his affection for their entire lives and were long accustomed to the scraps they’d been dealt.  
“I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised,” Sam laughed flatly, shooting Josh a knowing look. “Lord knows Dad has the means to afford it.”
“Oh, here we go. I don’t want to hear your conspiracy theories, Sammy,” Josh replied sternly. “I have faith that every drop of his viewer’s donations go right to the Convention.”
“Right,” Sam muttered. “Just like the college fund did.”
Josh stiffened, bright eyes suddenly cast in shadow as he set a glass down on the table. Danny’s eyebrows silently rose in curiosity. He’d never heard mention of college.
“Always the firecracker, Sammy,” Josh said with a brusque laugh, recovering with shocking speed and slipping his cheerful mask back on with ease. Sam rolled his eyes and carried on doling out glasses and napkins, but Danny found Josh’s abrupt mirth disturbing and studied him from where he leaned in the doorway. Danny had felt quite certain in his assessment of Jake when they’d met, but with Josh, he couldn’t quite pin what it was about him that kept Danny’s attention.
-
Dinner had gone off without a hitch, much to the surprise of everyone at the table. There was a bit of a rough start when a chilly direction from Jake had Danny positioned at the seat farthest from Sam, one that also conveniently faced the portrait of Jesus on the wall. But after they’d all sat down, Josh had led them in a tearful round of grace praising Sam’s safe return and then insisted on hearing every single detail of their cross country journey. Knowing that “every single detail” would send both his siblings into cardiac arrest, Sam had regaled them with only the most entertaining stories. Danny felt his heart swelling in his chest watching Sam settle into his natural element, rolling his wrists in the air and grinning like a madman as he detailed engine mishaps and eccentric motel squatters. The biggest surprise of all was Jake slowly warming up as the conversation rolled along, never contributing more than a few words at a time but eventually offering up the smallest of smiles and persistent eye contact as his little brother rambled away.
“I just can’t believe it,” Josh noted brightly at the tail end of one of Sam’s stories. “You’re so bold now, Sams. I remember when you were such a little scaredy cat too scared to get the communion wafers from the back room by yourself. Now you’re out there roughing the wilderness and pushing cows off the road.”
“Trying to push cows off the road,” Daniel corrected with a smile, remembering how hard he’d laughed watching Sam push with all his might against a cow where its herd had blocked the road somewhere in Texas. “Emphasis on trying.”
“I pushed that big one with the brown spot!” Sam argued. “You saw! He went running!”
“He felt bad for you, Sammy.”
Jake let out a snort that set them all off into their own fits of laughter, save for Sam who open mouth scoffed and mouthed threats to Danny across the table. Despite his faint indignation at Danny poking fun at him, Sam felt a great rush at the light hearted mood that had settled over the room. For a split second, he thought of a world where they could eat dinner like this on a regular basis, but he held himself back from indulging in that hope and laid it to rest in a far corner of his mind as quickly as it had risen.
Sam found it to be a wise choice when the laughter died down and Josh, completely unknowingly, killed the mood.
“Is it a hassle to find churches near motels?” Josh asked with sincere interest. “Or is it nice to settle for one day a week when you’re always driving around all willy-nilly?”
Jake let out another snort and Sam and Danny made awkward eye contact across the table.
“They don’t go to church, Josh,” Jake answered for his brother. Josh blinked and Sam bowed his head, suddenly very interested in tearing at the seedy heart of the tomato at the end of his fork.
“I suppose we can be few and far between,” Josh nodded. “I don’t think it’d hurt to peek in on a general Christian service, though. It’d do the job if the Baptist radio stations don’t reach wherever you end up.”
“They don’t want to go to church, Josh,” Jake continued. Sam kicked him under the table and Jake shot him a snotty look, raising his eyebrows haughtily as Josh turned to Sam.
“Is that true?” Josh asked, sounding a little hurt. 
“Did nobody here read the note I left?” Sam mumbled childishly, keeping his eyes down as Josh sputtered and looked between him and Danny. Danny couldn’t muster anything more than an embarrassed cough, also looking down but keeping his eyes firmly glued to Sam.
“I did, about a thousand times,” Josh insisted, shifting his entire chair to face Sam. “But I figured you’d, you know…well, maybe I don’t know.”
“I bet there’s a lot we don’t know,” Jake added, kicking back when Sam kicked him again. 
“What are you, 12? Stop it,” Josh snapped, adding his own kicking leg to the fray. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“You should’ve seen what he was wearing when I saw him,” Jake said conspiratorially.
“Jake, shut up!” Sam hissed. “You’re so fucking prissy.”
“Woah, language!” Josh scolded, throwing his hands up. “Everybody take a brea-”
“He was practically naked. From where I was, I actually thought he was a girl.”
“Okay, Jake, give it a rest,” Danny snapped, anger finally giving him the courage to speak up.
“I’ll “give it a rest” when you stop necking my brother in broad daylight, how about that, Florida?” Jake snarled, tossing his fork on the table with a furious clatter and crossing his arms. Danny’s mouth clamped shut at the same time Josh’s fell open. Sam let out a strained howl, staring daggers through his brother’s skull as Jake sent them right back.
“God, Jake, you’re so, so,” Sam stammered, insults piling in his mouth. “You’re so fucking jealous!”
Jake didn’t reply, but his eyes fluttered from the sting of Sam’s words. Sam had hit a nerve with sharp precision and they both knew it.
“What on God’s green earth is Jake talking about?” Josh asked, eyes glued to Danny where he wilted in his chair. Danny drew in a breath like he was about to answer, but they all found that the silence he gave instead was just as clear as if he’d spoken. 
“Sam?” Josh asked, a little desperate. For some reason, he didn’t sound as deeply disappointed as Sam had imagined, and certainly not as mad as he’d feared. 
“I hate you,” Sam whispered across the table to Jake, ignoring his other brother searching his face for something he’d missed entirely. “I said I didn’t want to fight.”
“Are we fighting, or am I just saying things that are objectively true?” Jake countered with eerie calm. “You don’t go to church. You dress like a girl. You’re screwing a total stranger. Anything else you’d like to add? Is he paying you, perhaps?”
Sam’s chair scraped loudly as he got to his feet and sent it banging against the wall. He crumpled up his napkin and threw it in Jake’s face before storming out of the dining room, leaving behind another frustrated cry that was cut off by the metallic clang of the front door. Josh turned to Jake with his own expression of genuine anger. 
“Do you want him to leave again?” Josh growled, glaring him down before casting his eyes on Danny. “Daniel, I am so sorry. Please, forgive us.”
Jake’s face grew cloudy and sullen at Josh’s fury, clueing Danny into whose opinion he must value most in this world. He sank further in his chair when Josh breezed past him and followed Sam’s warpath out of the home, leaving Jake and Danny to sit side by side in their private rages after the door had slammed for a second time.
-
They sat there for a very long time. Danny wanted to run to Sam (he was always running to Sam, and he thought maybe he always had been) but knew that Sam needed Josh more than him. As much as he was not enjoying this trend of being left alone with Jake, he sat with the storm cloud beside him and did his best to steal glances and collect information without Jake’s knowledge. When they’d first encountered him, Jake had seemed so eager to fly Sam back home to the nest. He’d seemed almost understanding, or as understanding as someone like him could be, but it’d spun out within seconds. Danny was trying to figure out the exact moment that had turned him into a cold shouldered teenager so desperate to cut Sam down. 
 When slyly sliding his eyes to try and gauge Jake’s expression, Danny startled slightly to find that Jake’s focus had shifted from the wall to him. When he followed the low trajectory of his tired gaze, Danny saw that Jake was staring at…Danny’s scuffed cowboy boots. From the looks of it, he was tracing the stitchings in the brown leather. Lost in a daydream, maybe? Danny considered with a note of private amusement that Jake might be looking at his boots and tucking himself into a fantasy of cowboys and fast horses. Maybe that was something he and Danny both did; escaping into an idealized reality when the one at hand was too much. 
Then, with a jolt, it clicked. The way Jake had grown cruel when Sam had defended his new look and new life, no doubt shattering Jake’s pre established perception of his baby brother. Inviting him to dinner and cooking what Danny knew were some of Sam’s favorite foods, only to spoil it all with appetite stealing jabs. How he had shrank under Josh’s disappointment. How he sat now, staring at Danny’s boots like he wished they were his. 
Like he wished he could run.
“I’m sorry, Jake,” Danny blurted. Jake jerked at the sudden sound and regarded Danny with wide, confused eyes. He blinked once before his face crumpled, perplexed.
“For what?” Jake asked, all bite gone from his voice. He sounded almost friendly. He sounded a little like Sam, actually. Danny used that familiarity to gather his confidence.
“I’m sorry Sam didn’t invite you to go with him. That must’ve really hurt.”
Jake’s expression held its dumbfounded composure but Danny could see the emotion shift from confusion to something akin to being completely crushed. He barely blinked and Danny watched his eyes fill with tears.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jake hissed, his voice wobbling slightly as his lip curled in feigned disgust. “You two are going to die out there, one way or another.”
“You must be a masochist, then,” Danny accused, continuing to find his nerve. “Because I’m willing to bet that Sam wasn’t too far off when he said you were jealous. I’m really not trying to be rude, I’m just trying to understand.”
“Understand what? Why I hate your guts?”
“You don’t hate my guts, Jake. And I sure as shit don’t hate yours.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You didn’t even give me a chance.”
Ah. There was another puzzle piece clicking in place for Danny.
“That’s another thing I’m sorry about,” Danny said honestly. “I shouldn’t have shut you down like that. It’s just - and this isn’t an excuse, it’s just an explanation- it’s just that I’ve spent the past year trying to get Sam as far away from what he was running from. And, well, you’re a part of all that in one way or another. But I should’ve understood your circumstances the same way I do Sam.”
Jake was quiet for another beat, swallowing and sniffling before letting out a sigh.
“I guess I shouldn’t have shut you down like that either,” Jake admitted. “And I guess I should thank you for keeping him safe and, well, alive. It’s just so weird to see Sam like this. He’s so…”
Jake’s lip trembled in a particularly Sam fashion and his eyes drifted off into space as tears began to roll down his ruddy cheeks.
“He’s so happy,” Jake breathed, in awe. “He was right, he was never happy here. I pushed him too hard. Josh was too wrapped up in his own crises. Our parents never gave him a second glance. And now he’s so free. He got out. You two have done so much and gone so far that it just makes everything at home feel even smaller. I guess I didn’t realize until I saw him again that there was something to ‘get out’ of.”
“It’s okay,” Danny whispered, reaching out and putting a hand on Jake’s arm. “Hey, breathe, it’s okay.”
“It’s not,” Jake wailed, fully swept up in his hysteria now. “It’s not okay. This is supposed to be a place people flock to, not run from. And, shit, if it was so bad that he had to run, you’d think he’d have the decency to at least tell me and Josh. You’d think he’d ask if...”
Danny thought he’d be more distressed watching Jake completely spin out, but he was actually pretty calm. He supposed this was par for the course in a place like this. Another holy man laid to waste by a betrayal. Another brother struck down by his brother, laying still while the other wandered. In some twisted way, there was something divine here, but not in the way that any of them wanted. Danny suddenly felt even closer to Sam, and he shivered a little with the understanding and satisfaction of it despite the gaunt atmosphere over the entire estate. He kept a steady hand on Jake’s arm when he crossed his arms on the table and buried his face shamefully, the lean crest of his back shivering with an unruly sob. 
“You should go, Jake,” Danny whispered. “I mean, you should leave, too. You can’t be happy here.”
“That’s not an option for me,” Jake laughed, his face still hidden by his periwinkle sleeves. “There’s too much here for me to leave behind.”
“Josh?”
“Josh,” Jake repeated, voice wobbling. “Always gonna be Josh. As much as I’d love to have a week to myself without having to set up a million church activities or food drives or buying a trunkful of candles, I know he can’t handle the responsibility all on his own. It’s just easier if I do it so he can focus on writing sermons and doing confessions.”
“What happened to having faith in each other?”
“He doesn’t want to handle the responsibility on his own,” Jake corrected. “That’s another thing. In all honesty, I always thought if any of us were going to make it out of here, it’d be him.”
“Really?” Danny asked. From what he’d heard, Josh was more than happy with a microphone in his hand and adoring congregants standing at the ready to harmonize with his gospels. 
Jake calmed slightly, resurfacing from his arms to rest his chin and catch his breath. His round face was still flushed with emotion and Danny resisted a very genuine urge to brush his hair back from where it lay lingering on his cheeks, kept there by stray tears. 
“Josh…” Jake trailed off, his gaze finding comfort counting the slats in the blinds. “Josh struggles. I mean, we all do, but he…I don’t know. He doesn’t tell me much. I just know something keeps him convinced that he’s not worthy of being the pastor. Which is ridiculous, in my opinion.”
“Really,” Danny repeated, slightly more somber as he thought back to his first impressions of Josh and the immediate recognition whose source alluded him. It came to him in a wave, then, along with the fond ache of understanding.
“No one is more deserving,” Jake continued. “There’s no one as kind or as devoted as him. I think it’s just the church, well, the Convention, really, that has certain ideas that make him feel…unworthy, maybe. There’s an expectation he thinks he doesn’t live up to.”
“He’s..?” Danny trailed off, testing the waters cautiously in case the conclusion he’d jumped to was entirely wrong. 
“He’s my brother,” Jake said firmly, finally looking Danny head on. “And my best friend. That’s all that matters to me.”
Danny sat back in his chair, a long held breath (of relief?) escaping his chest as his understanding of Jake finally crystallized. He wasn’t really a sharp tongued, verse slinging Bible thumper with a million little hills to die on. Jake was a man who was first and foremost devoted to his family, and he was willing to forego all of his wants for their needs. He was a brother, and he feared for how the world would treat his brothers, both inside and outside his little world. And at the end of it, he’d withstand feeling forgotten if it meant they felt seen. He had never been angry, not really. Just hurt.
“You’re a good brother, Jake,” Danny insisted, flashing Jake a smile. “You and Sam should have a chat before the night is through. And I still believe you should think about leaving. Both you and Josh, actually. There’s a lot of world you’d really like to see. Obviously it’s not my place to tell you what to do, but I do think it’d help.”
“You’re probably right,” Jake agreed. “And thank you. Sorry for, you know, everything.”
“It’s no problem,” Danny said genuinely. “I’m happy to help.”
“You are, aren’t you?” Jake laughed. “I’m surprised you’ve stuck around this long, honestly. Especially since you’re not religious. But I guess if you’ve put up with Sam for a year and not jumped overboard, you must be accustomed to some nonsense.”
“I don’t ‘put up’ with him,” Danny asserted. “It’s a privilege to get to spend so much time with him.”
Jake watched him with an arched, amused eyebrow, finally straightening in his chair to smooth his hair back and settle with his arms crossed. 
“So, what, I’m gonna wind up being your brother, too?”
“I mean…in a way,” Danny laughed, heart racing. “If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” Jake answered, shaking his head slightly. “I figured. I mean, after he hit 21 and had no dating prospects or interest in dating at all, I assumed he was gonna forgo it completely. I just guessed he was more interested in his commitment to the church, like Josh.”
“Seems they both had their reasons to stay away from girls,” Danny noted.
“I suppose they did,” Jake said with a light laugh. “And still do. But, wow, Sam really does light up around you. I’ve never seen that with him.”
Danny smiled, blushing with warmth again as he tried to recall Sam’s expression when he was around. He’d always been smiley and wide eyed when looking at Danny, complete with pupils blown wide and overtaking the honey brown of his iris while he mapped Danny’s face. Wasn’t that how he’d been before they met? Apparently not. 
“You’ve got good intentions?” Jake interrogated, nudging Danny’s knee with his own. “You treat him right?”
“I do, I do,” Danny insisted, crossing his own arms and grinning. “I sure try. He’s easy to love.”
“You love him?”
“I…yeah, I do,” Danny affirmed, certain of his answer. “I didn’t even mean to say it like that, but, yeah. Is that alright?”
“Yeah, it’s alright,” Jake smiled, yet slightly subdued. “Just…be careful, okay? At least as long as you’re in Alabama. Especially in Shady Grove.”
“I know,” Danny said softly, a little more morose. “Sam warned me about that. Another reason he left.”
“Another reason we should go,” Jake replied reluctantly. “Right?”
“Right. Believe me, nowhere is going to be perfect, but I think you’ll like the version of Josh you’ll meet when he can be himself. I’ve loved watching Sam come out of his shell.”
“I wish I could’ve been there for that,” Jake whispered, choking up again. “He’s probably out there right now telling Josh how much he hates me.”
“Don’t say that.”
-
“I fucking hate him.”
“Sam.”
Sam had bolted the second he was out the front door, but Josh had known where to find him. Ever since Sam had been young enough to start throwing the tantrums that had made him so intolerable to their parents, he always fled to the dock at the bottom of the hill. Ever the mediator, Josh had spent his fair share of time on the rotting wood planks listening to Sam vent his frustrations as they plunged sticks and rocks into the murky water, eventually advising him with echoes of affirmations he’d heard from the mouths of older congregants. But they were adults now, and as Josh sat on the dock with Sam curled into his side, he realized with a faint panic that there were no more words to borrow but his own. 
“I do,” Sam insisted, his head resting on Josh’s shoulder as he glared out over the blurred surface of the small lake. “I really do. I’m done with him.”
“No, you’re not,” Josh sighed, throwing an arm around Sam’s shoulder and rubbing his arm. 
“Whatever,” Sam grumbled. “I want to be.”
“You don’t have any kind of hate in your soul, Sam,” Josh told him. “God takes it from you and leaves you even more kind and enduring.”
“Josh, stop,” Sam whispered, sending an embarrassed thorn right into Josh’s side. 
“Stop what?”
“The God stuff. Please. Just, not now, at least.”
“The ‘God stuff’ used to make you feel better.”
“No, it didn’t. I just didn’t say anything.”
They sat without speaking for a minute. Without their voices, the rushing rain sounds of the mayflies and the hush of the surrounding trees filled the void between them. 
“You could’ve said something,” Josh murmured. “Especially if it would’ve stopped you leaving.”
“It wouldn’t have,” Sam answered. “I’ve thought about it a lot. I think I would’ve left no matter what happened.”
“Oh,” Josh said, sounding small. “Did you know that before you left?”
“To some degree.”
“...I would’ve liked to know that, too, Sammy.”
Sam swallowed a guilty lump in his throat and sulked further against his brother. 
“Sorry,” Sam whispered. “It was selfish. It’s just…I was scared if I told you, you’d tell Jake, and then he’d tell Dad, and then you’d all hatch some master plan to keep me here.”
“I suppose that’s not an unfounded fear,” Josh admitted. “Remember when Jake had his little Sunday school girlfriend? I didn’t see him for, like, three days after Dad got wind of it.”
“Exactly. And then you would’ve written up some elaborate, guilt trippy sermon and sat me down in the kitchen and made me talk about my feelings for 2 hours minimum.”
Josh laughed a little, drawing a knee to his chest against a cool breeze that rolled off the lake.
“I’m pretty predictable, huh? Goodness.”
“And that wouldn’t have worked because if I talked about my feelings…”
“What?”
“...”
“What, you wouldn’t want to hear my feelings about the whole thing?”
“Well, yeah, but it’s too late for that now. And that’s not-”
“I haven’t even told you how I felt,” Josh pointed out. 
“I know how you felt,” Sam murmured, tears searing his waterline again. “Maybe it’s you and Jake with your creepy twin telepathy, but I felt you both the whole time, even all the way out in California. It’s horrible. Some days I couldn’t even enjoy myself because I could feel the disappointment two thousand miles away.”
Josh felt tears of his own threatening to spill over hearing that. It had never occurred to him that a lifetime of observing at the sidelines would’ve made Sam so accurately attuned to his family’s emotional patterns.
“Sammy,” Josh exhaled. “It pains me to listen to this. You don’t have to feel so guilty about everything.”
“Neither do you.”
Josh bristled slightly, lifting his cheek from Sam’s hair and looking down at him.
“What do you mean?” Josh asked gently. 
“I know you didn’t want to be pastor.” 
“Well, I love it now.”
Sam pulled away from Josh and crossed his legs under him, staring out over the water before staring Josh in the eye with a look so sincere and cutting that it made Josh lean back slightly.
“It’s okay if you don’t, you know,” Sam said evenly. “It’s okay if you’re upset.”
“What do I have to be upset about?” Josh teased, pushing Sam’s bony shoulder. “I live in this beautiful little town and get to spend my days with its beautiful little people talking about what I love. Plus I just got my baby brother back. I’d be a fool to complain.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Josh, cut it out,” Sam snapped, grief fizzling into frustration. “You sound like Dad at his worst. Why can’t you just drop the act for 2 seconds and admit you hate it here?”
Josh’s eyebrows flew up and he let out a reflexive laugh, anxiety coloring his tone as it fluttered cautiously out of him. Sam looked at him pleadingly, grabbing his brother's hand and gripping it tight.
“I know you didn’t want to be pastor,” Sam repeated firmly. “I know you wanted to go to college. And I…I know you’re gay.”
Josh immediately froze, falling silent as Sam stared into his eyes and what felt like his soul. 
“And that’s great,” Sam continued on, a tear escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek. “It can feel amazing if you’d just let yourself feel anything. Trust me, I know. You’re not trapped here, dude. You can still go to school and be yourself and be happy. You just have to put yourself first for the first time in your fucking life.” 
Josh, struck dumb, couldn’t do anything but breathe as his heart burned in his chest and pushed up hot tears that blurred his vision of his brother. His brother, who was undressing his façade with effortless impatience that made Josh begin to wonder just how transparent he truly was. Or was it only Sam, who was part of him in so many ways, that could see how blind Josh was? When he spoke in dizzying circles of hell and damnation, were his congregants shaking their heads in pity with the knowledge that all Josh was really doing was scaring himself back into submission?
“If you’re really okay with how your life is turning out, tell me now and we can never talk about it again,” Sam promised. “I swear to God. I will leave it alone.”
Josh hesitated further, pulling his hand from Sam’s and letting out a slow breath. Looking down at the cloudy water swaying underneath them, he wondered how big of an inhale of it would take for him to sink right to the bottom. 
“You’re right,” Josh confessed, his voice as soft and as uncertain as Sam had ever heard him. “I didn’t want any of this. It’s too much pressure. And the more I read the Bible and listen to the sermons from out in Texas and Georgia…the more I lose faith in what I’m supposed to be telling people.”
“Yeah,” Sam whispered, finding respite in Josh’s honesty. “I never really believed we were all born sinners.”
“I still kind of do,” Josh admitted. “But now I’m thinking there’s no amount of trying that’ll change that. I do all of this praying and writing and confession but I’m still…”
“It’s not sin, Josh. How you feel, how we both feel. There’s nothing to be saved from when it comes to that,” Sam insisted with quiet urging. “Seriously.”
“Maybe,” Josh whispered, picking at the skin around his nails as a dark coil of shame slithered in his stomach. “It just isn’t natur-”
“It’s like this,” Sam started, trying to put something into terms that would get through to him. “God is everyone and everything. Maybe that’s something I still agree with. And when you stop dedicating yourself to trying to get him to pay attention to you, you start to see Him or whatever “He” really is everywhere. You realize that you’re honoring Him by honoring yourself and doing what feels right to you. I don’t know if that’s something we’ll get rewarded for in heaven, but the reward of it on Earth is enough for me.”
“‘Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it’,” Josh recited with a nod. “Hebrews.”
“Sure. Yeah, actually, yeah. What I’m trying to say is you should live for yourself, Josh, not God or Dad or anyone. And if you still want God, you’ll find that without even trying.”
“Did you find Him with Danny?” Josh asked quietly. “In Texas?”
Sam blinked in surprise. He’d never thought about it like that, but…
“I guess I did,” Sam breathed, a smile drifting onto his face as he thought fondly of Danny. “At the start, at least. Now it’s all just him, no capital H.”
Everything was Danny to him, in complete honesty. Even though Sam only half believed the whole speech he was giving to Josh, he couldn’t deny the divinity he felt in the presence of his boyfriend. His best friend.
“I want that,” Josh murmured. His throat closed with emotion as he forced the words out, but it felt good to say. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d expressed wanting out loud, and based on the look on Sam’s face, he realized it may have never happened before.
“Go get it,” Sam said fiercely, his grin growing wildly when Josh’s eyes lit up a little at his encouragement. “You wanna come to Florida with us? We can find you a nice, alligator hunting boy.”
“Slow down, slow down,” Josh laughed, holding up his palms in surrender. “One step at a time.”
“Just Florida, then. We’ll ask Danny.”
As if summoned, there grew the sound of hushed voices and the sound of shoes on the wooden steps down to the deck, bodies hidden by the trees and the dark. Eventually they emerged, Jake hopping down from the last step that had been laid too high, bending at the knee from the impact as long legged Danny casually stepped down beside him. Sam and Josh turned to face them, leaning back on their hands and giving little waves. Without any words, they all knew the night’s battle had blown over, and Sam reached for Jake as he sat down between him and Josh. Jake received him with a hug, both of them bent into each other awkwardly as they murmured brief apologies to the other. Josh, unable to stay out of anything ever, leaned into their embrace and struggled to wrap his arms around both of them. Danny laughed as he settled next to Sam, their knees bumping as Sam attempted to wiggle out from the hold Josh had joyfully trapped them in.
“I’m just so grateful,” Josh wailed with phony passion. “I love my family!”
“You’d hug Mom and Dad like this?” Jake asked incredulously.
“...I love my brothers!”
All 4 of them laughed again as Josh finally released them, immediately proceeding to chastise Jake in a low voice as he fiddled with the frizz his hair had accumulated. Sam teetered backwards and landed with his back to Danny’s chest. Danny took advantage of the twins getting distracted and planted a kiss on top of Sam’s hair, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment at the consolation of Sam back in his arms after the whirlwind day they’d had.
“All good?” Danny whispered in Sam’s ear, smiling when Sam nodded and tilted his head to grin up at him.
“You?” Sam asked, humming when Danny mimicked his own nod back to him.
“Jake said we can stay the night in your old bedroom,” Danny informed him, repeating what Jake had said in the conversation on their way out of the house. “But he won’t make us breakfast.”
“Fuckin’ liar, he will,” Sam laughed, reaching a hand up and lovingly stroking Danny’s cheek as he utilized his other hand to smack Jake’s thigh. “What’s this about no breakfast? You want me to burn the place down trying to make toast?”
“I’m just not babying you anymore is all,” Jake announced, smacking Sam right back. “Danny agrees it’ll be good for our relationship.”
“Traitor,” Sam complained, smacking Danny on the cheek and squealing when Danny scoffed and smacked him back. Jake let out a brash cackle and Josh a defeated groan.
“You’re like the Three Stooges,” Josh whined. “Also, coming from you, Sam? That’s a bold accusation.”
“Wow!”
“Look who’s finally growing some balls,” Jake continued to cackle, hooking his elbow around Josh’s neck and pulling him into a side hug. 
“The state of my balls are none of your concern,” Josh muttered, which made Sam and Jake let out identical barks of laughter. The three of them got whipped up into a frenzy of bickering and Danny watched with a grin and a bloom of warmth flowering in his chest at the sight. There was something being healed here, he thought, and he could almost see the misguided little boys they’d once been as they tussled and giggled on the groaning dock.
It was strange to think how differently he had felt just a few hours ago. With Sam in Danny’s life, it seemed like things changing at the drop of a hat was something that Danny was going to grow well accustomed to as long as he was around. After that night, even with Sam squirming out of his grasp to try and push his brothers into the lake, Danny knew with complete certainty that he wanted Sam to stick around forever. It was time he told him that.
-
“How was your shower?”
“Arctic.”
Danny laughed and opened up the wing of the sheets and comforters to welcome in Sam, who came rolling in with his hair still wet. He was clad in linen pajamas from his teenage years that fell slightly too short on his wrists and ankles, while Danny lay under the blankets in only his boxers and socks. Even though Sam’s skin and hair was freezing cold from the shower and dampened his own skin, Danny pulled Sam against him and struggled with the blankets to bundle them together as best as he could. 
“There, now we’re a proper burrito,” Danny smiled, kissing the tip of Sam’s nose.
“I’ve never had a burrito,” Sam whispered in a hushed, secretive voice. Danny gasped.
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not!”
“Well, that's okay, we'll remedy that. Plus, they’re not half as good as this,” Danny mumbled, using his grip on Sam’s back to pull him further into his bare chest and tuck Sam’s head into the crook of his neck. “Was the water really that cold?”
“Sub-zero,” Sam promised with a shiver. “Those assholes hogged all the hot water, I bet. Typical.” 
“I’ll warm you up plenty,” Danny purred, sliding his hand up Sam’s shirt and tracing his fingers along his cool skin with featherlight touch. Sam shivered again and giggled, nuzzling deeper into Danny’s neck.
“Not in my childhood bed you won’t, pervert,” Sam murmured against Danny’s skin, which seemed to be radiating great waves of heat like he were a human furnace. 
Said childhood bed had been a source of poorly hidden smiles from Danny, who finally admitted through a smothered laugh that the entire room looked like his grandma’s room back in Florida. No doubt done up and never redecorated for the daughter his mother had been expecting and never received, the wallpaper was pale, flowery and hung with silver crosses. Picture frames held stitched psalms that sat cheerfully on the vanity facing the bed. The double bed barely fit the both of them and, as Sam admitted through laughs of his own, the sheets and comforters that surrounded them now did, at one time, belong to his granny. When they’d first walked in, Sam had felt the loving ache of being remembered upon finding that the bed had been made and the room had been tidied for his return.
“How about some sleep, then?” Danny offered. “We’ve had a long day.”
“No kidding,” Sam quietly agreed. “I’m glad what happened did happen, shockingly enough. I really thought it was going to be a trainwreck. I should’ve had more faith in them, I guess.”
“You’ve got just the right amount of faith,” Danny hummed, eyes drifting open and shut as he grew sleepy from the perfume of Sam’s shampoo and his natural sweetness. “I’m really proud of you, baby. I know that was a lot for you. You’re a tough cookie.”
“I’m your tough cookie,” Sam murmured, tickling Danny’s neck with his nose and planting a lingering kiss on the pulse thrumming violently under his lips. Danny let out a breathy groan and gently dug his fingers into Sam’s back as Sam mapped a sleepy path of kisses along Danny’s neck.
“Easy, cookie,” Danny raggedly chuckled, smoothing his palm up and down Sam’s back as he fought in vain to stave off the growing pressure in his boxers. “I thought being in this bed was a no go.”
“It is,” Sam doubled down, lips dragging against Danny’s skin as he whispered. “Just saying thank you real quick.”
“You and your fuckin’ ‘thank you’’s,” Danny smiled, eyelids fluttering fully shut as he tilted his head back and gave Sam more area to cover. “This is like that first night all over again.”
“I was so embarrassed,” Sam giggled, his breath fanning out in warm bursts over the thin layer of saliva cooling on Danny’s skin. “I thought I’d gone and fucked up the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Sweetheart,” Danny cooed, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“No, I’m not,” Sam refused, pressing his cheek into the hollow of Danny’s collarbone.
“Yes, you absolutely are, my little California love.”
“Even after today?” Sam asked, sounding more uncertain than he wanted to. “I can’t think of a single other person on Earth who could’ve sat through all of that bullshit and still liked me at the end of it. Like, I really can’t apologize enough. Especially for Jake’s crazy ass.”
“Especially after today,” Danny insisted. Sam lifted his head from Danny’s chest and looked up at him with an unconvinced sneer, their noses brushing as Danny raked his fingers through Sam’s damp waves and searched for the fortitude to say what he felt. These were the moments where Danny felt it the strongest; Sam burrowed into him with his eyes as wide and wondering as the day they’d met. This was what love was to him.
“Sam,” Danny whispered sincerely, voice low and breathless. “If it meant I got to keep you by my side for 10 extra minutes, I’d live today over and over again. Do you understand? There is nothing you could put me through that I wouldn’t stick around for. Not when I’m this ridiculously in love with you.”
Sam’s already wide eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets at that, pupils expanding slowly as a nervous smile wound its way onto his flushed face. Danny smiled at him, feeling a flush of his own beginning to heat his body from his heart outwards. 
“You’re what?” Sam asked, leaning back slightly to look at Danny properly. 
“You heard me,” Danny teased, pinching the rosy apple of Sam’s cheek. “What do you think about that?”
“I think you’re crazy,” Sam laughed, shimmying in their cocoon of blankets and limbs to readjust his arms to wrap around Danny’s neck. “And may have been dropped on your head as a baby.”
“How did you know that?”
“It’s the only rational explanation as to why you’d go and say that,” Sam flouted breezily. 
“Is it really so hard to believe?” Danny asked, making a pitiful face that made Sam’s heart flutter. “You make it very easy to be in love with you, as a matter of fact. I don’t have to try at all.”
“I love you,” Sam murmured, in awe. It’s not like he was stupid, he knew Danny had to have loved him for them to have gotten as far as they had, but it still felt entirely unexpected to actually hear it. After a year of being startled awake by Sam’s sleep talking, patiently listening to stories of the worst of Sam’s childhood punishments, even sleeping sitting up in a jail cell in New Mexico when Sam’s newfound chutzpah found purchase with a rowdy biker, there was Danny at the end of it all. Patiently awaiting what fresh hell Sam would drag him into next. 
“I love you, too,” Danny assured him. “But are you in love with me?”
“Fucking obviously,” Sam blurted. “I'm so in love with you, Danny, fuck. I didn’t realize I even had to clarify that.”
“Of course you did! How else would I know?” Danny laughed, eyes glittering with glee and relief at Sam’s confirmation.
“I thought I had made myself plenty clear when I followed you across the country with zero hesitation. Twice.”
“I guess that’s fair.”
“Also, I mean, you popped my cherry, so.”
“You weren’t gonna give that up for just anyone, huh?” Danny laughed, his freckled nose crinkling. 
“Nope,” Sam smiled flirtatiously. “I was saving it for truuue looove.”
“Is that what this is?” Danny asked softly, his smile paling with uncertainty as he searched Sam’s dark eyes. 
“I hope so,” Sam breathed, his heart racing just as fast as it did when he was still learning to look at Danny without feeling faint. “Do you think it is?”
“I do,” Danny said sincerely, cupping Sam’s jaw. “Let’s say it is and go from there.”
“Works for me,” Sam agreed, nervously tilting his chin forward and melting from the inside out when Danny met him with a fiery kiss.
Sam was no stranger to the possessive pressure Danny preferred to apply when kissing, but there was something fierce behind this kiss that left Sam feeling utterly and completely loved. Lying in the same bed just over a year ago, Sam recalled how he’d bundle the blankets into a wall to press his back against as he slept, pretending it was someone to keep him steady and wake him in the morning. He thought of how that was something he didn’t need to dream about anymore. He thought of how lucky he was. How blessed.
“I’m starting to think Josh may have been right,” Sam sighed against Danny’s mouth, now tucked under him with Danny’s loose curls tickling his cheeks. “I think you’re my guardian angel.”
“You’re the angel here,” Danny insisted, thinking of Sam’s tattoo and feeling his thighs tighten unconsciously on either side of Sam’s hips. “Never gonna let anyone clip your wings ever again.”
“I’m serious,” Sam whined, twining his fingers in Danny’s hair and pulling him closer. “You’re the real deal.”
“Maybe Josh did get one thing right tonight.”
“Speaking of Josh…how do you feel about another passenger on our way to Florida?”
“He’s going to have to share the backseat with Jake if that’s the new plan, ‘cause I’m pretty sure I convinced Jake to pack up too.”
“Family road trip,” Sam sang. “I hope your parents don’t mind.”
“No, they’ll love a full house,” Danny answered. “And my sister will love peer pressuring them into doing stupid shit.”
“I can’t wait to see them drunk for the first time,” Sam confessed with a laugh. “They’ll be fucking ridiculous.”
“I don’t know if you’ll want to see them like that if they’re anything like you were the first time you got drunk,” Danny teased, nipping at Sam’s earlobe. “I’ve still never heard you talk like you did that night.”
“Stop that,” Sam giggled, muffling a squeak when Danny kissed the sensitive skin under his ear. “I don’t even remember half of that night.”
“Your brain is protecting your dignity,” Danny joked, his voice low and warm against the shell of Sam’s ear. “You were kind of a slut.”
“Yeah?” Sam asked weakly, panting slightly from so little. Danny tended to do that to him.
“Oh, yeah. Big time. You cried when I wouldn’t put it in.”
Sam immediately slapped a hand over Danny’s mouth and shushed him theatrically, attempting to smother him when Danny laughed hysterically and tried to lick and bite at his fingers.
“What if they heard you!” Sam hissed, his wrists now pinned beside him as Danny held him down with visible triumph.
“Then I’ll apologize!” Danny laughed, jostling as Sam tried to wrench himself out from under him. “You’re the one making the mattress squeak all suspiciously. This is a Christian household, Sam, I mean really.”
“Shut up!”
“You shut up!”
“I hate you,” Sam declared quietly, sharp eyes trained up at Danny with a glimmer of mischief dancing at his waterline. Danny smiled fondly and lowered himself so their chests were pressed together. He cocked his head, looking Sam over with his hazel eyes lush with emotion.
“And I will love you ‘til the day I die, Sam Kiszka,” Danny announced, pressing his lips to Sam’s with careful appreciation and keeping them there for the hours that followed. 
In the morning, they’d clamor and argue and shed tears before pulling out of Shady Grove with a body in every seat of Danny’s beat up little truck. They’d follow the fate line to Florida to settle and heal and wander from the path like they always did. But that night, they had nothing to do but lay under the blanket of the whistling Alabama sky and love each other.
They’d find in the years and decades that followed, it never got much more complicated than that.
~~
Taglist: @holdingup-fallingsky @milojames16 @spark-my-nature @bladenotblaze @currentlyfangirling10
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verieriberries · 3 days
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the girls definitely thought bruce was a villain when they used their x-ray vision the first time they stepped foot in the manor.
batonium had been going at this dating thing for a couple of months now and the girls are still on the fence about bruce. surely if he was another sedusa situation then it wouldn’t take months for his evil plan to unfold, right? they can’t deny that bruce makes the professor happy but the trauma from the sedusa incident was deeper than they realized. as much as they wanted to trust bruce, there was something within them that couldn’t, at the moment.
bruce was briefed by the professor about the unfortunate ‘ex’ cause utonium felt like bruce deserved to know. it’s not that the girls hate him exactly, they’re just super cautious. bruce completely understands and only works harder to earn the girls’ trust. part of his campaign was opening up more of himself to the little family of the man he’d grown to adore. well, as much as he could while still keeping the batman thing a secret and trying to unlearn his emotionally constipated ways. (he goes to therapy because he deserves and needs it)
and so, what better way to open up more about himself than to open up his home to the utonium family? of course, he picked a day where most of the batfam were busy. only dick and alfred were in the house, which is basically the best combination bruce could think of when introducing a prospective partner who has children of their own.
alfred and dick were wonderful to the girls and it was heartwarming to see how content it made utonium feel. bruce felt like he could get away with wrapping his arm around the professor’s waist and it turned out to be true when he only got a glare from buttercup and no demands to unhand her dad.
on the girls’ part, dick and alfred were effective persuasion to start sort of warming up to the idea of boyfriend bruce. granted, it would take some time for them to actually start trusting the man but it was a start.
bruce was giving the utonium family a tour of the wayne manor, dick tagging along with them and supplying an inane story that happened in every space that they walked through. it was great entertainment for the girls and utonium as well. the batfam is nothing but rambunctious to say the least. buttercup was starting to think that damien might be her favorite of the bunch (oh how wrong/right she was).
they eventually reach the study that had the secret entrance to the batcave and blossom just suddenly has this niggling feeling. she’s an intuitive girl and her instincts have never steered her wrong before, no matter how young she was. deciding to trust herself, she uses her handy dandy x-ray vision and could see what she could only assume was an entrance to a secret villain lair. she wasted no time flying to her father’s side and her sisters were close behind despite their confusion.
utonium immediately chastised his daughters while bruce and dick momentarily paused before looking at each other.
“dad, we told you! he’s a bad guy!” blossom yelled causing her sisters to gasp and glare at bruce. dick couldn’t stop the loud cackle that pushed through his lips even if he tried. bruce looked confused.
“now what makes you say that?” utonium asked as he kneeled down. it had already been a few years since the science accident that created his daughters and while they were steadily growing, they were still quite small compared to his tall stature.
“he has a secret entrance to his villain lair behind the clock! bubbles and buttercup can look for themselves to prove that i’m telling the truth.”
after doing as their sister said, they flanked the professor with their assent that yes there IS a secret entrance to an evil lair there, we wouldn’t lie about it!
utonium knew his daughters had no reason to lie for something quite as serious as this so he could only look towards bruce for answers.
of all the ways that bruce could’ve revealed the batman to the professor, he didn’t expect that it would be like this. he had wanted to wait a bit more, maybe a year, before telling. and even then, he was hesitant about revealing the vigilante thing entirely. he was content to keep it a secret because he didn’t know how he could deal with utonium reacting negatively. it was only with the combined intervention of all his children and alfred that he even began to consider divulging his and his family’s alter egos to the utoniums. bruce couldn’t enter a relationship that he had hopes of lasting if he couldn’t share the single most important thing about him as a person.
he was really hoping that the moment he tells utonium would be under his own terms in which he had control over the situation but the girls just. poof. made all that hope go down the drain. he’d already been told by the professor that the girls were superpowered and that they had a range of abilities but it seems like he’d be putting x-ray vision into the list.
glancing at dick who was barely stifling his gighles, bruce sighed. “i’m not a villain or a bad guy. i’m. . . batman.”
now, utonium has heard of batman. who hasn’t? and ever since living in gotham, he’s been hearing more and more about the guy and he’s made an opinion. batman is good, though his slightly violent methods seem to suggest otherwise. gotham needs someone like the dark knight to keep things in check, and something that a lot of the public didn’t notice is that he was a lot more compassionate than they realized. why else would he send a gaggle of rogues to a psychiatric institution if not to give them the means to heal themselves? (utonium would feel differently about arkham whenever he finds out about the abuse and neglect that was prevalent in the facility.)
so when he heard buttercup say that the batman sounded very much like a villain name, utonium chuckled. and so, everyone’s attention was suddenly on him. his girls looked confused, wondering how he could laugh about this like it’s a light matter and he found himself smiling softly at them, silently wishing they’d stay this innocent for a little while longer.
“girls, remember how i told you about how townsville was before? how bad guys would always do bad things and that the people there would be too afraid to even go out of their homes?”
“yeah!” exclaimed buttercup. “but then you made us and we beat up the bad guys!” she looked very proud of that statement, as did her sisters. when utonium glanced at the waynes still standing in front of them, they both looked confused. utonium sighed.
“yes. you beat up villains so that they’d go to jail and everybody would be safe. it’s the same for batman.”
“oh.” they still looked unconvinced, but the professor always told them the truth. it was only dick’s comment, that batman was friends with superman, that made the girls release the tension that was holding them up. their shoulders relaxed as they regarded bruce with a curious look. bruce nodded at them, confirming everything that’s been said about him.
“so… you won’t hurt us mr. batman?” bubbles hesitantly asked and isn’t that heartbreaking, that the thought of bruce harming them was at the forefront of their minds
bruce kneeled on one knee to be eye level with utonium’s daughter. “i promise you, i would never harm you, your sisters or your father intentionally. if i end up being mean and hurting you guys, you have my explicit permission to beat me up.”
bubbles giggled, the most trusting of the three, and held out her pinky finger. “pinky promise? and you can’t break it ever.”
since they were still at the age where pinky promises were sacred, blossom and buttercup also held out their pinkies with determined looks. bruce’s lips quirked into a small smile, bringing up his own pinky to seal the deal with each of them. “i pinky promise.”
dick, when recounting what happened to the rest of the family when they arrived back at the manor and bruce was driving the utoniums back to their apartment, had a lot of to say about how adorable the girls were and how funny it was when they called bruce a bad guy.
jason had to interrupt him. “wait, what do you mean they beat up criminals in their hometown? aren’t they like, 3 years old?”
it was at that point everybody realised something. sure, damian was also young when he started as robin but that was mostly due to the hellish and dangerous training that he was put through under the league at such a young age. was it the same for the girls? what it they were being forced to do it? sure, they had powers but they were still children.
although they expected to feel excitement about meeting the utoniums soon, now they could only feel a small sense of dread.
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riaki · 5 months
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i literally cant stop thinkin’ about highschoolbully!gojo who used to be your ride or die ‘til he started getting attention from those popular jock type guys who are always assholes to everyone. and him being.. well, him means he preens under attention no matter who it’s from, so naturally he started to gravitate towards that group and their little troop of cheerleading fangirls. and then he started distancing from you and without either of you really realizing it, you’ve slipped between the other’s fingers. but the way he acts towards you makes you think he let you fall without moving a muscle to slow you down.
soon enough, a year swings by and by the end of it he’s gone from your life, save as just another face in the gaggle of boys who make crude jokes and laugh at smart kids and pop milk cartoons during lunch just for the hell of it. but you’re minding your own business, ‘cause you’re mature enough to realize that people come and go, no matter how close you might’ve been and you think it’s unfortunate that so many memories could be thrown aside in a blink of an eye, but it makes a lot of sense when you walk past satoru and his friends bullying some random kid. you don’t know him, but you’ve heard enough to realize it’s his girlfriend satoru’s flirting with while his ‘gang’ kick at the kid. and it’s sickening, but you don’t say anything when you walk by.
and when you don’t ever see the kid afterward and catch the dark eyebags under his girlfriend’s eyes, you come to the cruel realization that satoru isn’t the boy who’d bandage the scrape on your knee you got from tripping in the playground or buy you a soda because he’s noticed your sweat when you were walking home and you don’t have any money left on you.
it’s a glass half empty, half full type of situation. on the one hand, you don’t have him anymore. on the other hand, you don’t have him anymore. that is, you lost your best friend, but you’ve also lost someone who has the potential to absolutely ruin your life. and you don’t know whether to be glad or not, so you just mind your own business even if it hurts a little when he ignores you, stops tossing paper at your head in class (unless it’s to embarrass you) and stops walking you to and from school.
but the cherry on top of the shit cake is that he doesn't get it. so when he approaches you in the library one day after satiating the need to tear pages from books and make them into paper airplanes to throw at people, he doesn't seem to understand why you try to ignore him, or put off his attempts to hold a convo. but the worst part is that he's just sleazy and clueless about it. it's like he took an eraser and wiped every single year of your friendship off the chalkboard with one fell swipe, and you wish he'd done that too to the less-than-appropriate messages he and his friends had written towards one of your classmates.
he doesn't understand why you're hesitant to talk, and that's what makes it the worst. he always thinks he's in the right, and he keeps setting you off and it sucks that he knows exactly what sets you off. "i'm an asshole? what're you talking about? really, you're in over your head. you never change." he laughs, and you ignore him, and he gets bored, and he's about to leave when he spots your wallet open next to your book, on the table. there's a polaroid peeking out, and he recognizes the tufts of white hair to be him. but there's a weird feeling in his chest, and he thinks he gets it from you, so he leaves because he thinks you're weird.
and it goes on; you practically become a nobody in satoru's eyes, because of that weird, weird feeling you give him. it's unfamiliar and he's never gotten it before and he doesn't like it. but it's unavoidable when your professor pairs you two for the end-of-term project. and of course, you're ready to do all the work, because that's how it always was between you when you were kids. but sometimes he'd surprise you by helping, and he'd show you that he was actually intelligent just to earn your praise because he liked it. but he ignored you, and you did everything, and it would've been okay if not for his friends egging him on to present your entire project when the day came and leave you with no content for a grade.
that's the first time it hits him: does he really want to do that? but it's not like it'll be the first time; you've always taken the hits for him, because you're naturally smart and you'll pick yourself back up in no time, and you get why he does it, so it'll be okay. so he agrees, and he enjoys the time he gets to spend with you through it, but the nagging weird feeling that blooms in his chest like a pesky weed only grows stronger. that's all his feelings ever seem to do around you.
but before you know it, presentation day swings around. you had coffee this morning (on his card), and you're ready enough to shoot him a small smile that sends his heart a-flutter. so you go up, feeling up to the task and ready until— he starts talking, and talking, and talking, and people don't think that he's taking your words out of your mouth because he's intelligent when he wants to make you praise him and you don't get the chance to get a word in and you notice the guys are laughing and hitting each other's shoulders to themselves in the upper rows and before you know it it's over. people are clapping but moreso they're looking at you and they're whispering— but it's terribly loud and they don't bother to hide it. they call you things that shouldn't bother you but they do anyway, because it's satoru's fault, and you're such a fool for thinking you could have it your way again.
so you leave class early, excusing yourself and ignoring the way your professor gives you a distasteful look and scribbles something next to your name. you're out the door in a second, neglecting your bags and satoru's a little lost because— didn't he just do good? people were clapping, and laughing with him and not at him, but it's attention either way so he doesn't mind. so why do you? why did you look at him like he stabbed you in the back? and his friends are calling his name, and he wishes he could chase after you and do something but he doesn't.
and it's a little sickening what they do next; one of their girls grabbed your bags and tossed it to them, and they've started rifling through it as if they own it, tearing up your shit and dumping everything onto the ground and he's kind of just... glued to the chair by his feelings. his heart feels like it's been patched together and the weird fuzzy feeling he had in his chest that's been cultivating has extinguished to be replaced with something he realizes he's only ever felt when it comes to you— guilt.
he's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't realize his friend is silently offering him something— nudging his side to get his attention. he takes it without really realizing he moved his hand, and his silent friend with the gauges in his ears and the dark hair gets up and leaves without another word. when satoru looks down, he realizes he's been given your wallet. "the reward for betraying your baby," they call it. like all you're worth is the money in your account.
he's a little curious. that's how he's always been; asking you questions, rummaging through your stuff, laughing sheepishly and shaking it off when you caught him red-handed. so he opens it up, ignoring your sad little cards and the funny look on your license. he's looking for something, subconsciously; but he doesn't find it. there's no white tuft of hair to suggest his presence in your life; just empty black leather. nothing else.
and he doesn't see you after. or the following day. or the following weeks; weeks that turn into months that turn into the end of school and he's graduating but you're not by his side. and neither are his so called 'friends'; the only thing he has to their name is your own ruined friendship. it's a shame; he feels alone. very alone. no fuzzy weird feeling, not even that thing people call guilt. no attention to chase, and connections are ever harder to make. it shouldn'tve mattered that much, right? it was just a presentation. why wouldn't you just come back to him like you always did? were you not still friends...?
but the blood is still on his hands, and he doesn't manage to ever wash it off. guilt has a way of festering; of weighing on the heart 'till there's nothing left to feel or think but unfortunate circumstance and what could've been done differently. it just sucks that he never tried hard enough to keep you from slipping between his grasp. and now, he doesn't even have a polaroid to your friendship's name.
pt.2
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primofate · 26 days
Text
Drop the towel wrapped around you and appear naked in front of your Genshin husband
In a nutshell: That old tiktok challenge/prank. In your private, shared home of course.
Warnings: My perpetual warning as a writing mother is that I am sleep deprived. Very VERY sleep deprived. SUGGESTIVE: BORDERING ON NOT SAFE FOR WORK, written on a 10 minute timer please be gentle
Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Cyno, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, implied fem!reader
Personal Favourites: Tighnari
Aether
chokes on nothing
"Y-Y-Y/N?! What're you doing?"
Comes up to you and tries to cover you up with the towel again, as if it was a sin to look at you naked in broad daylight.
Full on blush on his face and respectfully tries to look away.
"Don't surprise me like that!"
Seems not to like it but actually likes it too much to the point of getting embarrassed for himself.
Yes he's your husband but is still a precious respectful man
Albedo
Blinks a couple of times but appreciates your beauty and gives your body a slow once over. Chuckles in amusement afterwards.
"Is there a reason for this?"
Just to get his reaction, you admit.
"Well..." starts walking towards you. "I do have higher self-control than most others... but let it be known that I'm far from immune to my..."
Stops in front of you and yet again seems to eat you up with his eyes. "...needs," ends with a suspiciously sweet smile.
Alhaitham
Can't help but be a bit surprised and you can see it by the way his eyebrows go up as soon as the towel hits the floor.
Opens his mouth to say something but closes it again, as if hesitating, which is really strange for someone like him.
"...Is this the part where I sweep you off your feet and carry you to our room?" there's a bit of amusement in his tone. Stands to walk over to you.
Places a hand on your waist.
"Cause I can guarantee you that we DON'T need to be in our bedroom for things to happen...but you knew that already, right?"
Ayato
Quirks his eyebrows up, amused smile appearing on his face.
"I must say, this is a lovely surprise,"
Traces your figure with his eyes. Then approaches you to hold your waist and dip in to kiss your neck softly.
"How could I ever resist, my love, when you're standing in front of me in all your magnificence?"
Takes the longest time just admiring and basking in your beauty, tracing every little part of your skin.
Baizhu
Lets pretend the snake ain't here okay?
Does a double take.
"Y/N, first off, you'll get a cold,"
Pushes his spectacles up and gives you a once over.
"Second, you'll give me a heart attack,"
Beckons you over gently with his hand. "Come over, I suppose it's been a while since...I've done a full body check,"
Hides a grin.
Cyno
Blankly looks at you and is still processing what is happening
"Y/N? Is this... Did I do something?"
Is so suspicious that this was some kind of trap.
You tell him its simply to get a reaction out of him.
Immediately shoots out of his seat and catches your wrist.
"Then...Is it my turn to get one out of you? There's several ways to do that...and I know your favourite ones,"
Diluc
Eyes follow the towel down to the floor and head snaps back up to blink at the sight in front of him. Recovers quickly.
Chuckles as he stands and walks over. Picks up the towel and drapes it around your shoulders. "Only because it's quite chilly tonight,"
but still ends up inching the towel off your shoulder, tracing your collarbone. "Although, as your husband, I suppose it IS my job to keep you warm... So how would you like it today, love?"
Itto
"WHOA!" by instinct covers his eyes with his hands but his fingers are actually splayed apart so he can totally see through the gaps
Feels himself getting aroused
I mean the guy gets turned on even just at the sight of your neck
Suddenly stands and walks over to you, easily hoists you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and makes a beeline to your shared room.
"You're asking for it Y/N!"
Kaeya
"Oho?"
Sits back and relaxes, he doesn't really know what he was expecting. Some type of show maybe. "What's this? Finally giving me that lap dance you owe me, snowflake?"
Laughs but you're incredibly flustered at the suggestion.
Beckons you over and grabs you by the waist to sit on his lap.
"Feel that?" he whispers in your ear.
Oh you feel it alright, pressing at your upper thigh.
"Now whose fault is that? You'll have to do something about it now, love,"
Kaveh
"Archons!"
Looks away with a blush on his cheeks.
"Put something on!"
Yes he's seen you naked before, you're married, but the guy's always flustered in unexpected events.
You provoke him further by coming over, sitting sideways on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.
"Y/N!" He looks down at you and can't help but look at your nakedness in full and close view.
Gulps but starts to feel his body heat up, his hands suddenly, assertively planting themselves on your waist as he meets your eyes. "I don't care what you say about yourself, but know that you're the only one who takes me from 0 to a 100 in a second,"
Kazuha
"Y/N?" Chuckles nervously and takes in the sight of your body.
Smiles at you and takes your hand to kiss the back of it.
"I've seen you countless of times... Each time, I'm reminded by how fortunate I am that you chose me to take care of you,"
Caresses your cheek all the way down to your jawline. "You're beautiful, Y/N,"
He has the most tender and gentle look on his face, but its mixed with a passion that you've never seen on anyone before. "Let me show you how much I love you, dear,"
Neuvillette
Eyebrows twitches upwards in surprise. Has no clue what to do in this new situation.
He doesn't say anything but is most definitely enjoying the view of your body. You see his jaw tense up, as if he's clenching his teeth.
"Ahem," he starts. Then seems to have the most trouble prying his eyes away to meet your gaze. "Is this...perhaps another way to tell me... that you would like some attention?"
You say not really and just wanted to see how he would react.
"Ah," he lets out, as if understanding and as if the conversation has ended.
A moment of silence passes and you're starting to wonder if that was all he was going to do. But he then stands and places a gentle hand on your bare waist. "...So you're simply doing it, as people would say, 'for fun'?"
He asks, and you say yes innocently. He smiles a bit and has another hand cupping your face and thumbing your lips. "I see," breathes out slowly.
"Unfortunately, for your actions, the Iudex feels that a punishment is in order,"
Scaramouche
Raises one eyebrow as if he's bored. Then smirks.
"If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask," pulls you by the waist and makes you straddle him "But this is good too,"
Hands actually start to grope you up and down. Will fondle and squeeze in private places immediately.
"What? Startin' to feel good? S'what you get when you play games with me,"
will smack your butt the first chance he gets
Tartaglia
Immediately jumps up and in an automatic daze, eyes glued to his favourite parts, trudges towards you and attempts to bury himself in softness.
You quickly stop him and in turn HE quickly stops you. Hands easily bunching your wrists up together and angling them upwards above your head.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he grins down at you. "Someone's being naughty,"
You complain that he reacts too fast.
Laughs, but his hand starts to unbuckle his pants and there's a dark look in his eyes. "Oh, I'm just being naughty back. When you want something, Y/N, believe it when I say I'll GIVE it to you,"
Tighnari
ear twitches. Tail swishes back and forth. Does not show any expression except slight curiosity.
"What's the occasion?"
You tell him that you just wanted to see his reaction.
He hums and nods slowly, like processing some type of complicated information.
"Wait here, I'll be back in a minute,"
You ask him where he's going and you're a bit upset at the lack of response from him.
He chuckles and returns to you, tail angling upwards in an attempt to wrap and brush against your waist. Takes your hand, presses your wrist against his lips and seems to take a slow breath in.
"I'm merely clearing off my schedule for today. Now, be patient, I'll be back,"
Wriothesley
Almost spits out his drink but gulps it all down instead.
Eyes widen a fraction at the sudden act but his hand is already loosening his tie.
"Wait right there precious," chuckles while he says this, tie already falling to the ground, now unbuttoning his vest. At the same time walks over to you urgently as if you're going to disappear but laughs nervously while he's at it.
"I swear you'll be the death of me,"
Looks like he's going to pounce on you but when he reaches you he only gives you a chaste kiss, as if asking for permission first.
You suddenly remind him that he has a LOT of things to do today, appointments and all.
Actually barks out a quick laugh. "You're not really expecting me to walk out now? As far as I'm concerned," pulls you flush against him and kisses your jaw "The only thing I need to do today is you,"
Xiao
"Wh-Wh-What do you think you're doing?!"
caught unprepared. Crosses his arms and looks away. Pretends he's uninterested but his eyes still dart back to look at you.
You ask him if he likes what he sees.
He now completely looks away from you. A few seconds pass and when he turns his head back to look at you there's now a carnal look in his eyes.
He walks towards you slowly and captures your chin to tilt it up. Looks down at you as if he hasn't eaten a meal in days.
"...When I'm done with you tonight you'll get your answer,"
Zhongli
Chuckles. Amused.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, dear?"
You shrug and even do a turn for him. He watches you carefully and takes in the image in front of him.
Smiles and strides over towards you. "Truly a magnificent sight," brushes his fingers against your neck
His eyes trail downwards and isn't shy about looking at your body. "Might I remind you my dear, my stamina surpasses that of a normal human," he smiles at you sincerely.
You tell him that you're well aware. He just chuckles again.
"Then you know well what'll come next,"
End
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Text
A Week (He Will Take You)
~
Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.
This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.
Anyway
This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,
They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.
They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.
Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.
Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.
In other words they were stuck in Gotham
Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.
Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,
Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.
You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.
Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.
But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.
"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"
This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.
"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"
That was it.
The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.
But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,
Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.
The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty
Like no one had been living in it.
People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.
Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.
~
Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"
Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "
~
Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"
~
Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."
Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."
Bruce: "Hn."
Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"
~
Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"
Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"
~
Just an Idea
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soarrenbluejay · 1 month
Text
Since I’ve been encouraged to actually share my funny little blorbo ideas here’s another one gang;
Danny moves to Gotham on scholarship for engineering, because the Fentons may be infamous but they’re also insanely brilliant and besides both he and Jazz are showing every sign of embarrassed child of a super genius syndrome, so while the bats are keeping a close eye on him Just In Case, duke is also thinking of introducing him to the Our Parents Are Maniacs But Anyway club maybe after the first month or so.
Gotham does not go for standard dorm living bc of his ‘condition’ and lack of wanting to constantly spook/gaslight a roommate. Besides, living with two small children is a dorm sounds like a disaster in action.
So Danny signs up as a mechanic in Crime Alley, buys himself a teeny weensy lil apartment and Makes It Work. He has been all year after showing up with a de aged Dani and Dan in Amnity after all, and that had gone,,, fine? (The entire town, observing how Danny had been getting increasingly more uncomfortable around his godfather prior to the cloning incident, then just dropped off the face of the earth for several months, the first two weeks stuck in Vlad’s basement enduring horrors and the next Too Many desperately fapping around in the Ghost Zone to get everything handled. All the clones live, all 13 of them. Bunch of them are stuck in the Ghost Zone due to constant need for ectoplasm, but eh, plenty of Zone born never leave, so. One, in the future, apprentices under a green warrior lady on Pandora’s suggestion, another is working in the Eternal Library with Ghost Writer, etc etc. so Danny eventually came back to Amnity with one small child under each arm very obviously traumatized by Somethingn with vlad and doesn’t like being alone with him,,, or touched without warning,, and immediately and passionately proclaims the kids his but struggles to explain how or why,, look some very reasonable assumptions are drawn okay. So the town does the very reasonable thing and does the midwestern equivilant of excommunicating Vlad, except it’s a lot more run him out with pitchforks vibes since he’s the Mayor. Anyway)
He is immediately loved, because while non Gothamites are usually more of a pain than they’re worth, everyone in a while someone even from out of town will just fit in so nicely it’s uncanny for everyone involved. Addams family vibes, it’s referred to as ‘making it home’, just personal hc. He is protective of all the kids playing in the parks and street girls that can totally take care of themselves on their corners but find it HILARIOUS when he just tackles a dick like a wild animal full force no warning. He can fix anything it seems, but refuses to work with weapons. Reasonable enough, people get twitchy about gangs sometimes. Danny mentions being not against Hood or anything, but he’s not going to work for him, littles to take care of and all, but had past experience with ‘Dora and that inheritance mess with her brother he was being a real prick about’ so everyone assumes it’s the equivilant of him having Done His Time and being plenty good for a life time and respects it as long as none of that petty midwestern small town hotshots bring any of that shit over here. And they don’t, because said individuals are on the other side of the mortal veil, so happy day.
See I really love deaged!Dan because he’s just a grumpy lil guy. But he’s also killed millions. He’s so protective of his loved ones, but held back by blending in and also being Smol that it comes off more bitey kitten than anything else. Dani, of course, is a terror, so she fits right in with the crowd.
And sorry gang, but a bunch of kids on their own in Gotham in a poor side of the city just isn’t going to get any attention: that’s just business as usual really. What first gets attention on Danny is not his ‘condition’ or being mistaken for a meta (which he legally probs has an argument for even without the gene bc like these bitches don’t know how metaism works anyway so) or alien (I’m 90% sure he’d be covered by the alien protection act by virtue of being half ‘not from earth’), but because Danny despite best efforts is a Weird Guy.
He grew up in what could only be described as a low level villain level and spent most of high school dealing with smack downs and spiritual invasion. He’s never really processed that any of that is not in fact Normal. Also, he’s capable of making Anything if given the insides of a toaster, blender and alarm clock, and could probably rewrite the circuits of the apartment blindfolded and improve them 1000% even if it ABSOLUTELY would not be up to code.
And sure, things slip every once in a while, bits of spectral ice here, small floating incident there, but everyone just Minds Their Buisness ya know? You really gunna mess with the guy that personally ensured that when your car got flattened by a fight with Killer Croc, you were still able to get in to work the next day by some wizardry? Really?
But Gotham is a city so cursed it’s probably in the exponents countwise, so of course there is a) a flourishing community of magic users and assorted supernatural weirdos and b) a whole lot of shit for Mega Overpowered Ghost King Danny to idly pick at day to day in order to help with his protecting other Obsession. Gotham has plenty of heroes, but by god do they need the spiritual equivilant of an electrician/priest.
Still, Danny, as a baby ancient under a facet of Kronos and KING OF THE DEAD is like, way, way out of their scope to be able to grok, so it mostly just comes off as you know, a family of banshees or something. When asked, Danny very haltingly says he was briefly dead but then revived, which neatly explains his Weird Ass aura and makes it SPECTACULARLY AWKWARD to ask further about. So everyone nods politely, and goes back to their lives after double checking no nefarious bullshit was being pulled.
Then, of course, Vlad finally tracks them down. The whole neighborhood is altered in short order because he doesn’t bother trying to hide being a Rich Bitch or how he’s sneering down his nose at people on the sidewalk. Every connects the dots when Danny paniks. Dani and Dan’s daycare are staffed with some extra, very buff set of hands within the hour. Jerry, Hood’s third in command, personally shows up to the garage Danny is working at to talk things out with him bc he knows he does t like the deal with this stuff due to past unspecified circumstances but well, they guys had already started fucking with him, you see. Stole his tires, spray painted the windows, pickpocketed him blind, and when he retreated tipped off the police to the drugs they’d planted in the glove box.
Danny might not have been born in Gotham, but he was one of them. And the Alley takes care of it own.
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horrorartsworld · 2 months
Text
all work & no play
lucifer morningstar/clingy in heat f!reader
warnings: 18+ nsfw content, breeding kink, daddy kink
a/n: i’m not kidding the brain rot is real with this man…
(pic creds: @/AncestralSinner on twt!!)
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Lucifer was off on a business meeting with the angels which left you all alone bored and lonesome.
Of course you were missing him…
and of course it was your time of season.
You went back and forth one whether or not you should call him, checking the time almost every second until finally his meeting would be over in the next 5 minutes.
It wouldn’t hurt to call before it ended right?
Hitting his caller id number without a second thought and clicking facetime waiting patiently as you let it ring.
After the third or fourth ring you hear his sweet voice come through, “Hi my pretty girl…what’ve you been up to!”
Your thighs instantly coming together as you nibbled at your bottom lip at how just by seeing him your body temperature skyrocketed.
“I’ve been missing you daddy~” you pout at the screen using a baby voice as you watch his attention avert from you for a moment making your heart practically ache.
“Aww I miss you too honey…i’ll be home in a little bit okay!” his attention still elsewhere but on you. Who could possibly be having all his attention right now besides his baby?
You huff a little at this knowing you were in heat and he wasn’t here to help you.
Then a lightbulb goes off above your head as you held the phone out in front of you, starting to tease yourself a little. Rubbing your hand over your tits, grabbing and squeezing at them and then letting a hand slip under skirt to tease your pussy through your panties letting out a soft whimper causing Lucifer to put his attention back onto you in bewilderment.
Seeing you all desperate and needy that you had to call him on the phone finally put the thought in his mind that you were in heat. His eyes darkening instantly and his forked tongue darting out to lick his lips as he felt like he was practically drooling at the sight of you.
“Oh my sweet baby is in heat huh?” he coos softly as he started making his way out of the building hastily and back onto the streets of Hell.
You nod with still a pout playing at your lips as you start rubbing small circles against your clothed clit.
“Let me see~” his voice dropping an octave loosing it’s usual bubbly like nature.
Shifting the phone down to your skirt you move your panties to the side showing your already soaking entrance. Delicate fingers spreading yourself open to show off your sweet little hole to him that was aching to be filled.
“Fuuuuuck baby~” Lucifer moans on the other side of the phone not caring what sinner saw their overlord in such a primal and vulnerable state with his little girl begging him to breed her on the phone.
His hard-on straining so painful against his pants, which a couple whores on the street gave a whistle to and made him offers to come back with them, but he was so infatuated with you in heat right now he could careless, with your guys shared home being only two more blocks away.
“Just be a good girl and wait for daddy okay? I’ll be right there~” nodding obediently as Lucifer unexpectedly hangs up the phone making you huff once more.
You weren’t sure what to do with yourself for those few minutes, but before you could think about it there was a sound of keys jiggling at the door making you perk up within an instant.
The door swung open revealing Lucifer with his chest rising and falling rather quickly as his wings had been flared out now slowly going away in a ‘poof’ Seeming as though he flew here in a hurry just to please you.
“Oh come to daddy~” he purred with his arms outstretched and a hungry look dancing in his eye.
You didn’t hesitate as you walked over to him swaying your hips in a saucy manner which he quite liked as his eyes bounced with each movement. Wrapping your arms around his neck as you gave him a sweet kiss.
Lucifer hummed against your lips pleased as his hands started to slowly glide from down your waist to grab up under your thighs, hoisting you up to carry you back over to the sofa you were sitting on earlier.
Sitting himself down with you nestled in his lap facing him. His hands feeling how warm your skin was against his fingertips as just his touch was making you squirm against him, innocent lap sitting turned into you desperately grinding against him just to get off some how.
“W-woah slow down princess” he massages your hips pulling away from the kiss as he was starting to get more hot himself.
His hard-on from before still very much erect as it was nestled between your thighs igniting the heat deep in your core. You feel a little embarrassed and shy now that he was in front of you, but you just couldn’t stop humping him.
“I-I can’t” you sniffle, needing to feel relief so badly it hurts.
“Oh my sweet girl, it’s okay, shh.” he tries to calm you down as he gives a soft kiss to your forehead and squeezes your hips a little.
"You want daddy to make you feel nice and full. Is that right?" feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks as you nod, but you still can't control the way your hips are moving.
"Maybe claim you completely…Would you like that?"
Hearing his warm words in your ear was driving you up the wall, kneading your hands against his shoulders as a more pleading look decorated your features.
“Tell daddy baby~..” kissing your ear gently then peppering wet kisses down your neck.
Your mind so full of your arousal like this you had a hard time with forming your words.
“I w-want yo-ou~” you muster out softly as you then got up from your spot on his lap turning yourself around to present yourself to him.
Lucifer is nearly at a loss for words, too, seeing your cute little behind and the obvious wet patch on your panties where your skirt had been hiked up.
"Y-you want me in there?”
You nod gingerly as he then rubs a thumb over the wet patch lightly grazing your clit against your panties making you whine. He cruses under his breath as he doesn’t hesitate pulling you back down against his lap after making that noise showing how eager he was getting himself.
"You wanna come sit on my cock?" he offers, tugging your panties aside with a moan, seeing how your dripping down your thighs for him.
"Right here, angel" he pulls his angry erection out from his nice dress pants, lining himself up and stretching you open.
You feel the spread of his tip that could satisfy you alone with the width and thickness, but he couldn’t hold back anymore as he pulled you down onto him with a groan, "S-sweetheart…you’re soo tight~”
You whimper as that ache in your tummy was finally being satisfied with ease and loving. Looking back to see Lucifer completely entranced with you going up and down his length with his guide, his lower lip sucked in between his teeth.
"Fuck that's it, baby- you’re doing such a good job for daddy," he coos then pulling your body closer, pressing kisses to the back of your neck in his warm embrace.
He fucks away your embarrassment of being in such incredible need, with that fiery heat inside you. It all starts melting away, dripping down his cock until you feel him start to pulse and throb inside you.
"I-I’m s-so m fucking close-"
"P-please cum daddy" You mewl, hearing him growl behind you as you egged him on making him grab your hips a little firmer as he brought you down on him harder. Turning back at him once more to see that gorgeous, pleasured look on his face as he gets his first orgasm.
Breathing heavily now, you go to stand up to let him rest, but his hands grab onto your waist once more and he keeps you seated on his length.
"You wanna go again?"
He feels you clenching on him already with that surprised look on your face.
"Haha, why should we stop there?..I don’t got any meetings tommorrow- so i can give you allllll the attention you want”
He knows that when his sweet girl is in heat that she needs all the attention she can get…Not only with lots of love, but a nice long dick that’ll keep her filled with it’s cum.
He just wanted to make you happy.
Hearing this almost had you to the point of crying tears a pure joy that it was almost overwhelming that he wanted to take care of you like this.
So you let him do just that all night long, till he had you resting against his bare chest completely spent letting out soft sighs as you slept. He couldn’t help but smile down at his pretty girl cuddled up against him, pulling a blanket over the two of you before whispering, “i love you”, giving you a soft kiss amongst your head and then settling him self down for a much needed rest.
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yesokayiknow · 4 months
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they try, honestly they do, but the doctor isn't a stationary creature and never has been, especially not when they know there's something they could help with. which is to say, it takes a week of soft quiet life before he starts begging kate for a job. kate in turn withstands three weeks of the doctor's incessant begging and big puppy dog eyes while donna noble stands right behind him and mouths don't you fucking dare before she makes a counteroffer: he can work in a lab (the 'very far away from active duty' is implied) as long as he meets with unit's therapist.
and he refuses, of course, loudly and profusely, right up until donna very gently but very firmly tells him that it really could help, actually.
so. therapy. the doctor assumes it won't do anything. the unit therapist is no nonsense and unflinching and very very bright, and twenty minutes later the doctor sits outside the room hyperventilating while kate finishes paperwork and kindly doesn't mention the way he's all but curled into her.
the second session ends much like the first, and the third, and then the fourth he walks out with dry eyes and a tremulous smile. the fifth, kate calls donna and she takes him home and they drink hot chocolate and he doesn't start talking again until the next day. it takes him seven sessions to be able to stay in the room for the full hour; kate pats him on the back and then finally allows him to build a shield for her office as a reward. she sits outside the therapist's office every time he has a session, even though she has to have better things to do. they don't talk about it.
unit only has files on things the doctor's done on earth, and even then, only sometimes, which means that when the doctor talks about some things he just. edits, a little. talks about two weeks in a confession dial and a month in prison, because maybe then he doesn't have to think about the enormity of it all. and every single time he does this, the therapist looks at him and very kindly calls bullshit. it's weird, being known. it's different with donna. he is donna and donna is him, in ways they will probably never talk about. but he sits in that cluttered little office for an hour a week (sometimes two or three times, if he's doing particularly badly) and he feels seen.
after four months, there are memories he can touch without flinching, and people he can talk about without crying. he starts spending a couple of hours just sitting in the vortex, not because he's hiding or running but just because he likes the way it feels against his skin. he cooks dinner every other night and washes up when he doesn't. he takes out the bin every week even though it's rose's job, because he loves her. and he can say that now, and he doesn't think about her short lifespan or about all the other people they've loved and lost. he can say that and just mean it.
part of his contract is an agreement to never offer a trip to a member of unit unless it's actual life or death (the small chemical leak in the lab doesn't count; he takes shirley to new mars anyway) but he finds himself toying with the idea of asking for a session in the tardis. just once, just to see. the therapist looks at him and sees him and it is monstrous and they keep looking anyway and now the doctor can sit through a family dinner without wanting to tear his skin off and he doesn't know any other way to say thank you.
it's funny, almost, how quickly he grows attached to this person who picks through his hurts and rifles through his traumas and holds direct eye contact while doing so. the doctor talks about their deaths and their crimes and their cowardice and the therapist nods and asks him how he feels and it's. it's terrifying. it's beautiful. it's the worst thing he's ever ever been through, and the best. he feels ripped apart and put back together in a way that few people have ever been able to— huh.
after his sixty eighth session (he's unable to not keep count) the doctor walks outside to where kate is annotating a schematic and says, thoughtfully, they're the master in disguise, aren't they. and kate says oh 100% and please don't let them know that you know because they will definitely go to the second stage of whatever long con they've been hatching and they're too good at this for us to let them go
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writingouthere · 3 months
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neighbor!Sukuna x single mom!reader; your ceiling is leaking at 3 in the morning and you don't know what to do so you go ask for help from the man across the hallway(inspired by real life events that were not nearly so charming).
no need to have read the others in the series but can be read as a week or two after the aquarium date.
cw: Sukuna being a menace
Sukuna had always been a light sleeper so when there were knocks on his door at 3am, he was up instantly. The knocks weren't even loud but he found himself annoyed enough to stomp to the door. If he wasn't sleeping, the people below him didn't need to be either.
He yanked his door open, prepared to make whoever it was regret every moment of their existence but it was you, holding your daughter and clearly on the verge of tears.
You seemed contrite when you saw his expression but before you could even start to apologize, he was slipping on his boots and grabbing his key.
"What's wrong," he asked.
"It-it's the ceiling, I woke up and it was leaking water. It's getting everywhere and I don't know what to do and the landlord isn't picking up."
Sukuna rubbed your arm, trying to give you some comfort and you relaxed a little.
"Okay, let me come take a look. I can call the super, he's probably more likely to answer than the landlord." You nodded and he followed you back to your place. Holding his hand out to stop you at the door as he made to go in first.
Sukuna heard the water pouring in before he saw it. He had never been in your apartment before. It was clear that a woman there. There was color everywhere, more blankets than made sense for two people and the walls were covered in photos and artwork. It felt soft, it reminded him of you. And now, it was being ruined by water raining down from the ceiling.
"Why don't you wait in my apartment. You both look like you could use some rest. I'll sort this out," he said, handing over his key. You looked ready to protest but then your daughter started crying.
"Go, I got it."
You looked so relieved and he wiped away a few tears from your daughter's face and pressed a kiss to her forehead which helped bring the tears down to a more tolerable snuffling.
"Thank you so much, I don't even-"
"Don't worry about it. You two just go settle in the guest room and I'll wake you up when it's settled."
You smiled at him and you seemed to hesitate before you went up on your toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
Sukuna couldn't stop himself from grinning as you took your daughter out the door and towards his apartment. He turned around to look at the mess that was your apartment. It looked like a pipe must have burst in the apartment above yours. Annoying, but a quick fix when caught this early. He grabbed his phone, opening it to call the super before a thought came to him that just wouldn't leave.
It would be a shame if you had to terminate your lease because of unsafe conditions, after all you must still have a good six months left on it. He knew you didn't have any family in the area and it would be a lot for a working mom with a kid as young as yours to go apartment hunting all the sudden.
Of course, he did have that guest room. Plenty of space for the three of you and it wouldn't be hard to bring over the stuff you needed while you looked. His apartment was bigger than yours, even though it was just him.
Even if it was a tight fit, his lease was up at the end of the year anyway. You could always get a bigger space, one for your soon to be growing family.
Sukuna pocketed his phone and took a seat at your dining table, away from the water. He figured it would only take another hour before the damage passed the point of no return.
He hoped you and your daughter were resting well in your new home.
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gojorgeous · 3 months
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"sure thing"
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pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare. a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! creds: twitter template by @cafekitsune wc: 7.8k
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“Who?!” 
No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said. 
“You heard me,” he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.
“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind. 
“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers. 
You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.” 
Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.” You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I’m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path. 
“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back. 
“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket. 
He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.” 
Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?” 
He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”
You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t. 
Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s. 
“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?” 
Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you. 
“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying. 
“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong. 
~
It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches. 
You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment. 
You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.
It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you. 
You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike. 
You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now. 
You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.
You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him. 
The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.
The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside. 
You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.
You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it. 
You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet. 
You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face. 
“Hey, Dean,” you call.
He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease. 
“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo. 
Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night. 
“Yeah. Long day at work.” 
A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?” 
You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.” 
You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you. 
“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there. 
Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance. 
You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.” 
His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?” 
You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”
There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.” 
You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life. 
You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight. 
The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.
You’re shocked when it’s the other way around. 
“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder. 
Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines. 
You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs. 
You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.” 
His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool. 
“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone. 
He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride. 
You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention. 
“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish? 
You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman. 
You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself. 
“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive. 
His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?” 
His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.” 
Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours. 
There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps. 
“You’re a sorcerer,” he says. 
You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet. 
You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.” 
A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?” 
You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?” 
You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like. 
He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then… 
“So, what’s your technique” 
You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual. 
“Bet I could find out.” 
That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.” 
He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…” 
You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.” 
You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks. 
“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job… 
You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.” 
His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?” 
Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth. 
“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing. 
You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?” 
Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal. 
“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.
He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.” 
The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to. 
When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”
You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit. 
Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now. 
He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.
He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone. 
You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid. 
You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.
As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.
“That was Versace,” he whines. 
You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle. 
“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end. 
His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans. 
He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever. 
A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.
Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles. 
You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to. 
You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs. 
Now. Now, while he’s not looking.
You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now. 
You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please… 
You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land. 
Fuck. 
He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework. 
“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly. 
This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight. 
You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it. 
You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better. 
He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?” 
You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over. 
You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.” 
He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls. 
His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.” 
You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see. 
“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs. 
Your lips part. “You knew?” 
That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?” 
Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him. 
But you have one thing on him. 
“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”
There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.” 
You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.” 
His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.” 
You freeze. He notices. 
He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?” 
Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–” 
He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation. 
“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.” 
Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo. 
“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?” 
Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced. 
His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display. 
“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin. 
You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.
His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes. 
“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?” 
You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree. 
“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…” 
He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides. 
“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone. 
There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again. 
“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.” 
He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.” 
You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes. 
He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased. 
He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.
Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.
His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.
“I think you like this, gorgeous.” 
Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.” 
He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”
He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue. 
You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right. 
Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you. 
“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.
“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault. 
“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.
God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. 
You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.
Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.
It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away. 
He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?” 
Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you
You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone. 
“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.
A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.
“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick. 
“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole. 
He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out. 
“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.” 
He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages. 
You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.
“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.” 
You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut. 
Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.” 
You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.
A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.” 
His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you. 
A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth. 
“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him. 
He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.” 
His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same. 
“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.
“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.
You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant. 
You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs. 
You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind. 
“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”
You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”
His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be. 
You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you. 
“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death. 
“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest. 
He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?” 
You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.” 
He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?” 
You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe. 
You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”
You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.” 
His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?” 
You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.
There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been. 
“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free. 
“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position. 
He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”
You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind. 
“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you. 
He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.” 
There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?” 
He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”
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