Welcome to the prompt suggestion form for SuperPhantom Week 2026!
This will be a week to celebrate the best crossover ever — Danny Phantom
SuperPhantom Week 2026, yippe ki-yay!!!!
Danny Phantom / Supernatural (TV 2005), what a funny crossover... let's do this again. Fanfic, fanart, other multimedia or crafts, whatever you want, all are welcome. But I need help with prompts, so let me hear them!!!
Even if you only have a few suggestions please do make them! You do not need to fill out every day <3
the tags for this event will be #superphantomweek2026 and #superphantom
Pairings: OTW!Michael Jackson x F!Reader ——♡—— w/c: 1.5k+
Summary: Michael Jackson drops his debut album, but one particular song hits too close to home.
Warnings: Cheating, angst, fluff, kissing, no actual smut but definitely sexual references, mentions of emotionally controlling family dynamics.
♡ ♡ ♡
August 15th, 1979
The radio crackled softly, a low murmur of songs and static drifting between your practiced gasps. Your hand threaded through your boyfriend’s hair as you gently tugged, your performance a little too realistic as you waited for him to get bored.
Your eyes drifted over to the mustard yellow curtains your mother had insisted you buy, the apartment feeling almost too stuffy despite the late summer evening.
Then a familiar voice floated through the static, snapping you out of your daze.
“Girlfriend, I’m gonna tell your boyfriend, yeah..”
Every muscle in your body locked, your boyfriend lifting his head from between your thighs to meet your eyes.
“Was that not good?” He asked offence plastered across his expression. At least, that’s what you had thought he’d said, ears zoned into the all too recognisable voice.
Nudging him away from your body as you sat up straighter, face falling impossibly farther as you gathered your clothes, quickly shoving them onto your body.
“We're gonna have to tell him, you'll only be a girlfriend of mine…”
Nausea quickly overtook your senses, the room suddenly feeling all too small. Too hot. Too loud.
Your boyfriend frowned.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Oh nothing, just the man I’ve been messing around with for almost a year has released a song about me. You thought, internally rolling your eyes.
“I forgot.” You spoke quickly, eyes looking anywhere but at him.
“What?”
“My cousin’s birthday.”
You cringed at your painfully obvious terrible lie, but it had been the first thing that came to mind.
“I promised I’d help my aunt tomorrow.”
He stared, an eyebrow raising in disbelief as he pulled on his own clothes.
“At nine at night?”
“Mhm.” You mumbled, grabbing your bag and hurrying out of the room to find the nearest pair of shoes, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.
“I’ll see you later, love you, bye!” You rushed out, words barely coherent enough to qualify as a sentence.
♡ ♡ ♡
One year earlier
One Mississippi, two Mississippi..
The clock hanging on to the wall seemed to taunt you, the shift feeling like it had lasted a lifetime as you organised the action figure display case next to the till.
“Long day?” An unfamiliar voice snapped you from your daze, quickly putting on your perfect customer service face as you turned to face him.
A timid smile formed on his lips as a blush crept across his cheeks, waiting for you to speak. He seemed to expect the recognition, the kind he could never quite avoid no matter how obnoxious his aviators or how dark his cap.
“You’re Michael Jackson.” Your eyes widened as your smile fell, suddenly becoming aware of how stupid you must’ve looked.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Depends who’s asking.”
You’d laughed at that, letting out a long awaited breath, sticking your now clammy hand out as a small, polite gesture.
“Lovely to meet you Mr Jackson.” You had beamed, somehow hiding your inner excitement, reminding yourself that you were meant to be working.
And that had been the beginning.
Over the following months you had learned things most people never would.
Michael hated being alone. He wrote constantly, carrying his tattered notebook everywhere he went.
“You never know, I might find my muse” he had teased when you questioned him, his eyes not quite meeting yours. You had noticed the way his cheeks flushed when he had said that, trying to ignore your own butterflies while doing so.
It wasn’t much longer after that you began to exchange letters, at first they had been innocent. Funny stories about the children that would drag their parents around the toy store, Michael’s complaints about Bubbles’ obsession with strawberry ice cream despite not being able to actually try it.
Then came the harder ones. His struggles with expectations and the pressure he’d had placed on him surrounding his upcoming debut album. Your home issues, specifically about your father’s demands, about the way fear could settle inside a person.
Eventually the letters changed. Not dramatically. Just enough.
I miss you, he’d write. Telling you about his deepest desires, the kind of writing that would haunt you throughout the night, sometimes a hand would make its way lower and lower as your eyes on the paper did the same.
The first time the two of you had kissed, it had been in Michael’s home studio, roughly three in the morning, judging by the almost peaceful silence and the restless bounce of his leg as he inched closer to where you sat across from him.
“Oh.” You had whispered, voice barely audible as you felt your own body sink into his touch.
“Oh.” He had repeated, a timid smile on his lips as he closed the gap between the two of you, all of the thoughts swirling through your mind coming to a standstill as you kissed back.
It was then that everything became infinitely more complicated.
You had told yourself time and time again that you’d leave your boyfriend. But every time you’d attempted to, you had heard your father’s disapproving voice in the back of your head.
Because leaving wasn’t simple, nothing about your life could be.
Your families were intertwined, everyone assuming the two of you would be together for life, expecting that from you.
Michael never pressured you, that almost made it worse.
“I’ll wait.” He had whispered against your neck, as his hands explored your body.
“I know.” You had replied, body arching up into his touch as you felt him grind down into you.
That’d been the first time the two of you had slept together, it only becoming more and more frequent since then.
You had said it’d never happen again, but the gentle way he’d handle you, and the soft spoken promises, made it a common occurrence.
But Michael had stayed true to his promise, until now.
♡ ♡ ♡
Present Day
The recording studio smelled exactly the same as you had remembered, dust and tape reels bringing back floods of memories as you tried to ignore the way your heart pounded.
Michael looked up the second you burst through the door.
His eyes were red and raw and your demeanour instantly softened at the sight, almost forgetting why you had come in the first place.
“Why would you do that?” You asked, his eyebrows lifted as he rose from where he had previously been sat.
“What?”
“The song.”
Realisation crossed his face immediately, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck as he averted his eyes away from you.
“I’m guessing you heard it.” Michael spoke quietly, voice barely above a whisper.
“You think?” You had spat, eyebrows furrowing as you folded your arms across your chest.
For a moment neither of you spoke, then Michael sighed.
“I didn’t write it to hurt you.”
“You released it.”
“I released it because it was true.”
The words hit you harder than you had expected.
“I was tired of pretending I wasn’t in love with you, like I was fine with sharing you.” He continued, finally meeting your eyes again as he bared his heart raw, the room going still as you stared back at him in disbelief.
A shaky laugh escaped you, gently placing your hands onto either side of his face, keeping him there.
Before you could connect your lips, he had beaten you to it.
A year of fear, of excuses and avoiding the scary parts of your life had come to a breaking point, melting into something so minor and unimportant. The only thing that mattered was the man in front of you.
When you finally pulled apart, Michael rested his forehead against your own.
“What happens now?”
For the first time since meeting him, you smiled without uncertainty. “Now?” You smiled, squeezing his cheeks softly.
“Now I stop running.”
♡ ♡ ♡
October 31st, 1984
Five years later, everything had changed.
Earlier that year you had stood tall beside Michael as he collected award after award at the Grammys. Watching history unfold in front of your eyes, having never felt prouder than in that moment
Tonight, however, you were much more concerned with the fact that Michael’s Peter Pan hat insisted on falling off.
“Hold still,” you huffed, flicking his forehead when he rolled his eyes, causing him to let out an amused laugh.
“I’m holding still.”
“No you’re not.”
He grinned, a sight that you could never get sick of even after all of the years the two of you had spent together.
Michael hummed in approval when he saw his reflection in the mirror before turning back to face you, hands reaching out to adjust the fairy wings resting against your back.
“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I think you look better than the real tinkerbell.”
You laughed, rolling your eyes, despite the way your stomach fluttered at the compliment.
“That is objectively impossible.”
“Nope.” His smile only grew as he leant down to rest his forehead against your own.
“Michael.” You had warned.
“Nope.”
Before you could continue the argument, a harsh ringing filled the hallway of the house you had both moved into.
Trick-or-treaters.
Michael immediately lit up. Of course he did. You caught yourself smiling at the sight. He practically sprinted toward the front door, stumbling over his own feet as you followed shortly behind.
“Welcome to Neverland!” He had announced in a booming voice, your smile only growing as the children clawed at the bowl of candy he’d held out in front of him.
Later, after the final trick-or-treater left, you had found Michael sitting beside the window. Deep in thought, he reached for your hand automatically.
“You okay?” You had asked against his hair, feeling him nod as he squeezed your hand.
“M’just happy.”
Outside, Halloween continued. Inside, you sat together in comfortable silence, no more running or secrets, just the two of you.
Basking in the sort of happiness you had once believed wasn’t meant for you.
Exactly where the two of you were always meant to be.
What made one night stands so easy was that you never had to see the person again.
You had your fun, got your pleasure, and moved on. It was inconsequential. Though it was only occasional for you, it still happened, and it was the perfect send off to the heat of August, just before your studies resumed.
The night was out of your head the moment your eyes opened the next morning. Heading back to Hogwarts was always wonderful, a home away from home, despite the news that they would no longer separate classes by house, but rather only by year.
Each classroom was filled with swarms of unrecognizable faces in red, blue, and green robes that you were unaccustomed to seeing during lectures. You mentally prepared yourself for potions, knowing your year’s professor loved to set the classes up in pairs for entire semesters at a time.
So there you sat on your stool, head in one hand while a pen shook in the other as you read the semester syllabus, when someone slid onto the stool right next to you.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
You knew that voice.
You turned your head toward him, your eyes widening when you saw the freshly familiar black hair frame the sharp features of last night’s escapades.
“No way in hell,” you said, unable to comprehend that he was sitting next to you. This was a first.
“At least I know you weren’t lying about your age,” he smiled.
Your mind processed everything as quickly as it could, and you said what you decided to be the most pressing thing at that moment. “You need to move or he’s gonna pair us together.”
“Wouldn’t that be fun?” he taunted you.
You sighed. “Sirius, was it?”
He nodded yes.
“Well, Sirius, this professor likes to pair us off, and if he sees you sitting next to-“
“Potions, potions, potions!” your professor bellowed, beginning his introduction of what to expect from the oncoming year of potion work.
Of course, you were correct to assume he paired everyone together based on where they already were. If there was a table full of students in one house, he mixed them around the room a bit, but of course, Sirius sat next to you in red and yellow, distinguishing his Hogwarts house from your own, making a pairing all the more evident for your professor.
When the class came to an end, you began to collect your books without a glance in Sirius’s direction.
“Guess you’re gonna have to get used to me,” he said, winking as he walked away from you.
────── ☾ ──────
The next day you ran up the astronomy tower, nearly tardy for the first time ever due to a laundry mishap. One hand held the back of your skirt down as the other clutched your books, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you realized that the lights in the classroom were already off to accommodate for the projector.
“Cutting it close,” you heard to your right.
You sighed, your breathing heavy as you turned to Sirius. “Hush.”
“Sit down,” he said, patting onto the bench next to him.
You were so tired and anxious that you didn’t even think twice before taking the seat. You were content enough that you had made it before the start of the lecture. You didn’t have time to scope out a different seat.
“Are you usually rushing to class?” Sirius teased.
“Laundry mishap,” you explained, “couldn’t remember the right spells and the rest of my clothes got misplaced on the way here. I’m literally wearing my uniform from fifth year right now.”
Sirius’s eyes scanned your body, and took note of how high your skirt sat on your thighs. Your robe did wonders for covering your upper half, but as the fabric fell to the sides of your thighs, the sheer amount of leg skin being shown became painfully obvious.
“Yeah you are,” Sirius smiled.
You whipped your head toward him. “Don’t you dare,” you warned.
Sirius leaned closer to you, nearly whispering in your ear as he spoke, “oh, hun, dares are my favorite.”
Sirius lightly swept the tips of his fingers across the top of your thigh, and you gasped in surprise. Sirius grinned widely as he watched you blush like crazy.
“Don’t,” you whispered.
“Fuck me again,” Sirius whispered back.
“Excuse me?”
“Fuck me again,” Sirius repeated.
“And why should I do that?”
“Because you want to.”
You looked into his eyes and knew he was correct. The tall, dark, and handsome boy that had pulled you just mere nights before was still next to you, only now he was unavoidable. Now, you would have to face the consequences of your actions.
“We have an entire semester of being potions partners. I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” you said.
“Oh c’mon, we can’t be friends just because we fucked?”
You cocked an eyebrow toward him. “Is that what you want? You want to be friends?”
Sirius winked at you, “With a little extra included.”
You lowered your voice even more, and leaned to speak into his ear, “you were supposed to be a one-and-done, you know.”
“Yeah, so were you,” he replied, “but here we are.”
“Just because we had sex once doesn’t mean we have to have it again.”
"Okay."
You expected a little more resistance. "Okay?"
"Okay. I could probably get at least half the girls in here, I'm not gonna sit here and beg you for sex," Sirius said.
You were dumbfounded. He had you right where he wanted you. The truth was, you wanted him again. Your night with him was mind-blowing, and now interacting with him without sex, you were admittedly drawn to his charisma, which you'd decided was not just used to get girls into bed, as it had been used on you. That was just who he was.
He somehow knew all of that. He somehow knew that you wanted him again, and that all he had to do was pull away. It worked.
"No strings," you said.
The projector clicked on, and the room began to quiet down to mark the start of the class. "No strings," Sirius whispered in agreement, leaning away from you to pay attention to your professor.
You left the class as soon as it ended, not allowing Sirius any time to speak to you. You were left breathless in surprise when he caught up to you anyway.
"Bloody hell," you said, your back slamming into the closing door of a broom closet.
"Where you runnin' to?" Sirius smiled.
"It's the second day of classes, so class," you stated, matter-of-factly.
"You shouldn't run in that skirt," he replied, "unless you did it on purpose."
"Did what?"
Sirius made finger quotes to imply you were lying earlier as he said, "had a laundry mishap."
"I really did!" you protested, "if you wanna tell me the drying spell, I'd love to hear it."
Sirius bowed his head. "The house elves do the laundry, smartass, so why would I need to know that?"
You looked at him, dumbfounded. "Gryffindor has house elves do their laundry?"
Sirius smiled in amusement. "The entire castle. There's a laundry room and everything. Have you- you've been doing your own laundry with spells this entire time?"
"Oh I'm sorry, I must have missed the first year laundry debrief," you said, sarcastic.
"I hate to break it to you, but that was actually a thing."
You just stared at Sirius. "I'm terminating this conversation."
You moved to leave the broom closet, but Sirius placed his arm across the door, boxing you inside.
"We have class," you said.
"It's lunchtime," he said.
You weren't sure how to fight him. "So go eat lunch."
You almost watched in real time as Sirius's eyes darkened and his smile turned to a grin. "There's something else I'd rather eat."
You blushed, and there was no way to hide it. "Right now?"
"Don't wear tiny little skirts like that if you don't want me to tongue fuck you, smartass."
"I didn't wear this so that you'd tongue fuck me."
"Yet here we are," Sirius said, slowly sinking down to his knees.
You were mesmerized by him. You didn't stop him or protest, and you didn't want to. You simply just watched him kneel in front of you. He looked up at you and asked, "do you want me to stop?"
"No," you answered.
"Are you sure?"
"You're already on your knees, Sirius, don't start teasing me now."
Sirius smiled as he flicked your skirt up, giving him a full view of your underwear. You would ordinarily be self conscious, especially about the sheer size of your thighs, but he’d already fucked you, so you didn’t care. There was nothing to be embarrassed about unless you decided that there was.
He pushed your underwear to the side, taking one last look up at you as his face disappeared between your thighs.
You threw your head back at the feeling of his tongue on you, hard enough that there was a loud thud.
Sirius pulled away immediately and looked up at you, and you were just standing there laughing.
“Did you just hit your head?” he asked.
“Shut up,” you said.
Sirius giggled as he dove back in, lifting one of your legs and holding it over his shoulder, which allowed him easier access to your core.
Your hands instinctively shot to the back of his head. His hair was so gorgeous, that you couldn’t help but play with it as he tasted you. As his tongue flicked up and down on your clit, you tangled your fingers into his hair, pulling lightly to keep his mouth exactly where you wanted it.
He moaned at the feeling, continuing the pace that had you applying pressure.
After a few moments, he dropped your leg and stood up. You kept a grip on his hair, and as soon as he stood, you pulled his mouth to yours.
After a few moments of kissing, Sirius pulled back and said, “I was just eating you out, and you wanna kiss me?”
You didn’t respond, but just pulled him back. He looked so good, and it felt so good.
You gasped into the kiss as his hand found its way between your legs, spreading your wetness around your core before he inserted one finger inside of you.
He broke the kiss to hear your whimpers, which you tried to keep as quiet as possible, so as to not get caught.
Sirius picked up the pace, adding another finger into you and curling them slightly.
You couldn’t help the volume of the sounds leaving your lips. Sirius used his unoccupied hand to cover your mouth, causing your head to hit the wood behind you, but you didn’t care.
Sirius kept his face close to yours as you breathed heavy through your nose, his fingers working you closer and closer to your climax.
Once he felt you squeeze his fingers, he whispered, “you wanna come?”
He didn’t move his hand to allow you to speak, so you did your best to nod your head yes.
“Atta girl,” he whispered, and you released onto his fingers.
He stilled his fingers to allow you to calm down for a moment before he pulled them out, immediately bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean.
“Well that was easy,” Sirius teased.
“Excuse me?”
“Didn’t know someone could come that fast,” he explained.
You opened your mouth in offense, but Sirius spoke again before you could serve a rebuttal, “guess I’m just that good at this. Imagine if you’d said no.”
He then winked and left the broom closet.
────── ☾ ──────
Sirius pulled. That much was obvious. Whether he was sitting alone, deep in his books, or quite literally in the middle of speaking, girls would constantly make flirty comments toward him or approach him with a wink.
You couldn't blame any of them; Sirius was gorgeous. While his best friends James, Remus, and Peter were more of the boyish type of hot, something about Sirius felt like he was the bad boy of the group: tall, dark, and handsome. Something about him told you that 'bad boy' wasn't exactly right.
You had no clue whether or not he was fucking anyone else. You knew he wasn't seeing or dating anyone- that much he'd said out loud- but you both agreed on no strings attached, so you had no right to ask about his sexual partners, at least not beyond clarifying you were both clean of diseases. You were still curious, but you had to force yourself not to think about it.
You had never been in this situation before. You'd never had casual sex with someone longer than just a one night stand with a stranger. This was new to you, and you weren't sure exactly how to handle it.
"Wait for it to boil."
You retracted your hand from above the cauldron. "What?"
Sirius scanned a page of his book and said, "it says you aren't supposed to add the valerian sprigs until the water is fully boiling."
You stared blankly at Sirius. "It's almost there. It's simmering."
"Simmering is not boiling."
"It's good enough."
"I'm not gonna fail this class because of your impatience," Sirius said, taking the sprigs out of your hand and stepping back, "it's not gonna be that long of a wait."
You crossed your arms in protest. "I'm not impatient."
Sirius raised his eyebrows, and his face lit up in amusement. "Oh really? You're not impatient? Are we not on our third try of this potion because you keep throwing shit in before it's ready?"
"You're the one who threw the aconite in early the first time," you pouted.
Sirius sighed and tilted his head. “You’re being a brat.”
“I am not being a brat,” you protested.
Sirius giggled. “Mhm. Yeah.”
“If you’re so fucking smart then you just do it,” you said, dramatically plopping down onto a stool and watching the water in the cauldron.
“Aweh, bratty girl, you didn’t sabotage this just so you didn’t have to do work, did you?” Sirius taunted.
“I am not being a brat,” you maintained, “and I was trying to do the work but you kept scolding me.”
Sirius handed you the aconite. “Truce,” he said.
You took the aconite from him and placed it on the table, refusing to be the reason you’d have to restart the potion a fourth time.
“Someone’s in a mood today,” Sirius said.
“Yeah, well, I’m Sirius Black’s potions partner, so, you know,” you replied.
“And what a privilege it is,” Sirius said as he flipped a page in his potions book, “drop that in now.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“It’s literally how you make the potion.”
You rolled your eyes and dropped the aconite into the cauldron.
“What’s going on with you?” Sirius asked genuinely.
“Nothing, I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”
Sirius stuck his lower lip out in a hyperbolic pout. “Talk to me.”
The words came out before you could stop them. “You just want to fuck me, Sirius, you don’t want to talk to me. You don’t have to act like you do.”
Sirius was taken aback. He leaned away from you slightly, unsure how to handle this new combativeness. “So because we fuck, we can’t talk?”
“You tell me.”
“You know, Y/L/N, the whole thing about being friends with benefits is the part that isn’t the benefits part, is the friend part.”
You took a deep breath. He was right. “I guess I just don’t know what I’m doing,” you said. “I don’t know how to do…” you gestured between you and Sirius, “this.”
“You do it like this,” Sirius said, stepping directly in front of you and leaning down to bite at your earlobe.
You couldn’t help but turn giggly. “We’re in the middle of a class, Sirius.”
“I’m in a class, you’re in your head,” Sirius said, “gotta pull you out of it.”
Sirius pushed your hair behind your back and began to kiss your jawline and neck.
“Okay, okay! Down boy,” you said, playfully pushing him off of you.
“Down boy?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” you smiled.
“There she is,” Sirius smiled back, now that you were finally coming out of your mood, “there’s really no need to overthink anything. If you start to, you need to tell me, because we might have to reevaluate some things. And that's not always bad. Okay?”
“Yeah, yeah you’re right,” you said, “I just didn’t sleep well, I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Sirius said, “at least not for that. Maybe for fucking up the potion a bunch.”
You peered into the cauldron. “It looks fine!”
It didn’t matter how the potion looked, because the class ended before you could complete it. You and Sirius continued your conversation as you exited into the corridor, despite one of his best friends walking only a few feet away. You kept waiting for him to terminate the conversation and divert his attention, but he never did.
He even walked you all the way to your next class, despite the fact that he had to go in the opposite direction, and would certainly be late.
When you stepped into your next class, Sirius turned around to see Remus still only a few feet behind him, eyebrows raised.
“What?” Sirius asked.
“So that’s the girl you’ve been fucking?” Remus asked.
“Mhm.”
“And you’re walking her to her classes?” Remus asked.
“Yeah, and?”
Remus threw his hands up. “Can’t remember the last time Sirius Black walked a fuck buddy to class, that’s all I’m sayin.”
“Oh, that’s all you’re saying, huh?” Sirius said, walking past Remus.
Remus followed suit, walking in tandem with him as he said, “yeah, dude, that’s all I’m gonna say,” but he gave Sirius a look.
────── ☾ ──────
You climbed onto Sirius’s lap, his hands gripping your ass to move you back and forth as you kissed him.
“Shit, hun, I need be inside of you now,” Sirius whispered.
You continued to kiss him as you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, your lips wandering to the side of his neck.
“Did you have a good night?” Sirius asked.
Your hands stilled. “What?” You gazed up at him.
“I’m just wondering if you had a good night,” Sirius said.
“I’m jacking you off and you’re asking me about my night?” you giggled.
“I mean, I haven’t seen you in a couple of days, I was just curious,” Sirius asked.
You smiled. “My night was fine,” you began to stroke him again, “but it’s even better now.”
You pulled your underwear to the side and hovered over him, allowing him to align himself with your entrance and push into you, your knees bending as you sunk down onto him.
He threw his head back onto the back of the couch, allowing him to look directly up at you. You began to bounce, your eyes never leaving his.
He pulled you down into a kiss, his hands tangling themselves in your hair as your breathing quickened from the effort of moving up and down.
You allowed your head to fall into the crook of his neck. “Sirius,” you whispered.
Sirius groaned as he began to snap his hips, his hands grabbing your hips to keep you in place.
You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, holding his body close to yours as he fucked into you.
Sirius would never say it out loud, but it was that movement that made him come. The fact that you pulled him closer, that you wanted him closer, did him in. Even with his cock splitting you open, you still opted to hug him as if what was going on was innocent.
You felt him come, but you didn’t want it to stop. You still hadn’t reached your end, and you were needy.
“Fuck, please don’t stop, Siri, please,” you begged.
“Call me that again.”
“Siri?” you asked.
“Yes, fuck,” Sirius said, moving slower to avoid overstimulation, but getting turned on all over again.
“Please, Siri, please make me come,” you whined.
Sirius moved a hand between your bodies, rubbing soft circles on your clit to draw you closer to the edge.
You threw your head back as you came, Sirius’s eyes focused on you. The way the light was hitting behind you, and the way the sweat glistened off of your skin- he was mesmerized.
As you came down from your high, you leaned your head on his shoulder. He couldn’t help it. He tried to restrain himself, because he knew it was too personal and too intimate a gesture, but he couldn’t stop himself. He wrapped an arm around you and placed a soft kiss onto your head.
You gazed up at him. You could say something and ruin the moment, or, you could enjoy the moment of being held by him. You knew you shouldn’t, because it was too intimate for you two, but you couldn’t help it. You snuggled further into him, allowing yourself to breathe in his sweat-slicked scent.
“So your night was good?” Sirius asked again.
You chuckled. “You asked me that like three times.”
“What did you do? Anything fun?”
“Um, nothing super interesting, I guess,” you said, “studied a lot, did some extracurricular work. Oh, and I ran into my ex, so we caught up a bit. That’s about it.”
You didn’t feel Sirius’s body tense.
“Your ex?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t know you had an ex.”
You giggled as you looked up at him. “Well, yeah, doesn’t everyone have an ex?”
“I just didn’t know you did.”
You furrowed your brows at his more serious tone. “Did you want a full recap on my dating and sexual history in order to be friends with benefits?”
“No, no, never mind,” he said.
The air was getting thick, so you just let it go.
He didn’t.
“What’s his name?”
You sat up. “You really wanna know?”
“Yeah, why not? Friends talk, remember?”
You scanned the scene. “Your dick is still out, Sirius.”
Sirius raised his eyebrows, opting to lighten the mood. “If you don’t wanna tell me, that means there must be something super exciting you’re keeping a secret.”
“No! It’s just not that interesting,” you replied.
“Soooooo? What’s his name?”
You sighed. “Barty.”
“Why’d you break up?”
“It just wasn’t working out,” you said, “we were, like, sixteen. It wasn’t anything super serious. Then he met somebody and fell for her, so we decided to call it off.”
“That doesn’t sound like an amicable breakup, Y/N.”
“We ended it on good terms,” you defended.
“Yeah, but he fell for someone else?”
“Yeah.”
“Idiot,” Sirius shook his head.
You just stared at him. Looking in his eyes in that moment, it took everything in you not to kiss him. You considered just going for it, but had enough self control to turn away.
────── ☾ ──────
As you scanned the empty astronomy tower, your thoughts began to run wild. Where was everyone? Was it the wrong day? You were sure it was the right time for class.
“Knew you’d show up.”
“Sirius?”
“Weren’t you paying attention yesterday? Normal class time is cancelled. We’re meeting at dusk to do some hardcore astronomical stargazing.”
“Oh.”
“So you’re off the hook for a few hours.”
You looked behind you and took note of the fact that no one else was in the room. “If you knew, why are you in here, hm?”
Sirius shrugged. “I figured you’d still show up on time. You were too busy doodling when we were told not to.”
“You came all the way up the astronomy tower just to wait for the opportunity to call me out for not listening?”
Sirius smiled. “Pretty much.”
You rolled your eyes and turned around, walking toward the exit of the astronomy tower.
Later, you ran into Sirius on the way to the courtyard, unsure of how that was possible since your common rooms were not close, but you were happy to see him nonetheless.
The courtyard now housed telescopes, one of the only muggle inventions frequently used at Hogwarts.
“…and you are to pair up and mark down each constellation you can confidently identify. Once you’ve identified all the constellations that you can, you are to mark down any identifiable celestial bodies. Focus, but remember to enjoy the sight!” your professor instructed.
You began to look around the courtyard to find a partner, but before your brain could process anything, Sirius pulled you toward a telescope.
“I’m not about to do all the work, if that’s what you’re thinking,” you joked.
“Oh please,” Sirius rolled his eyes, leaning down to peer into the telescope, “boom. I see Auriya. That’s one, easy.”
You wrote it down on the page.
Sirius searched even more and said, “write down Cassiopeia.”
Before he could find another, you said, “you gonna let me look at all?”
Sirius smiled and turned toward you. “Get in here, then,” he said, and he took a step back.
You bent and wrapped your hand around the viewer, searching the narrow view of the sky to find any constellation at all. You searched and searched, spanning as much sky as you possibly could.
After four straight minutes, Sirius spoke up. “You doin’ okay over there?”
You continued to squint into the viewer as you said, “I can’t find anything.”
“Let me see,” Sirius offered.
“I have to find at least one,” you protested.
“Just let me see what you’re looking at.”
You sighed and stepped back, letting Sirius take over again. “You’ve got Ursa Minor in here.”
“Where?” you said, stepping back up.
Sirius let you back in, and said, “I positioned the telescope so it’s right against the left side. Right in the middle.”
“I don’t see it,” you pouted.
You leaned back, Sirius rechecked his placement, and he let you back in again. “Look now.”
As you bent down to look through the telescope into the sky, Sirius placed his hands on your hips. It was so gentle that you didn’t even think he was aware that he was doing it. Your breath caught in your throat, but you didn’t say anything. If he didn’t realize he was touching you, you didn’t want him to stop, so you weren’t about to ruin it by drawing attention to it.
You spotted Ursa Minor, and her star pattern was mesmerizing. You smiled when you spotted it, and Sirius noticed, smiling himself as he watched you.
“You see it?” he nearly whispered.
“Yeah,” you replied, “she’s beautiful.”
“Mhm.”
You pulled away from the telescope and stood up, turning around and facing Sirius. His hands dropped from your hips, but you could tell that removing them made him cognizant of their previous placement. You stood in silence for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes until your professor made an announcement about progress that caught your attention.
The rest of the time was casual, but you couldn’t help feel the phantom of Sirius’s hands on your hips. As you felt yourself slip into your head, you reminded yourself that you didn’t have to.
When the class dispersed, you leaned upward and whispered into his ear, “come back to my dorm.”
“Yeah?” Sirius confirmed.
“Mhm.”
Sirius followed you back to your dormitory, gazing around the common room as if he’d never seen a room adorned with any color other than red.
He followed you up the staircase to the girls dorms. Everyone was asleep already, the lights in the room dimmed or off as you and Sirius crept to your bed.
“I’m assuming you know the silencing spell?” you asked.
Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Rude assumption,” he said, and then proceeded to cast a silencing spell around the bed, “even if it is correct.”
You plopped down on the bed. “You comin’?”
Sirius stepped in front of your seated frame and lifted your chin with his thumb and pointer finger. “Someone’s in a mood, hm?”
Your breathing hitched in your throat. “Maybe,” you smirked.
Sirius leaned down and kissed you, and your hands instantly moved to pull him closer. His hands found the mattress as he became horizontal over you, his raven hair falling in front of his face.
You didn't waste any time moving your hands between your bodies, working to undo the buttons of his jeans.
Sirius smiled widely as he pulled away. "Eager, are we?"
"Hush," you said, pulling him back into a kiss and then resuming your work between his legs, pushing his garments down just enough to expose him.
He growled and began to kiss your jawline and neck when your hands wrapped around him, both needed to cover his entire length as you began to move them back and forth at an achingly slow pace.
"More," he spoke into your neck, so breathy and so low that you almost didn't catch it.
You didn't react or respond, maintaining your slow pace with the intention of making him come undone.
Sirius rested his head on your shoulder, his features buried away from your view, but his erratic breathing still audible. He began to rock his hips very slightly in tandem with each stroke you granted him.
"Fuck, please, baby," he whined, his voice still coming out as a whisper. He had never called you baby before. It seemed so intimate, so personal, so exclusive. It made your heart skip a beat.
"What?" you asked, playing dumb.
"More," he gasped as you immediately began to stroke him faster the moment his mouth opened, his hips rocking and nearly dropping onto you. "Shit," he moaned, hoisting himself up on his forearms so that his face was hovering over yours again.
He pressed his forehead against yours, his restraint visible in his muscles. "If you want me to fuck you, I'm ready, let me do it," he struggled.
"Who said I want you to fuck me?" you spoke, your voice going high at the end of the question to indicate that you were toying with him.
He spoke your name through gritted teeth, almost as a warning.
You continued to stroke him, your hormones raging, but you were enjoying watching him fall apart too much.
"Lay down," you said.
It took him a brief moment to snap into reality and comprehend what you said, but when he did, he rolled over and laid out on your bed without argument.
You settled onto your forearms, resting between his legs as you wrapped a hand around him again.
Refusing to break eye contact and miss a moment of watching him fall apart, you licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, finally wrapping your lips around him and dropping down onto his length.
"Bloody fucking hell," he said, watching you intensely.
You began to bob your head up and down, your hand still assisting with covering his entire length and maximizing his pleasure.
After setting a steady pace, Sirius placed his hands on the back of your head, beginning to snap his hips upward without warning.
You could feel yourself at war with your gag reflex, but you didn't stop Sirius. There was nothing hotter than knowing that YOU were the one giving him this pleasure.
In your fight with your own throat, you moaned at a particularly harsh thrust, and Sirius immediately pulled out.
"Fuck, are you okay? I didn't ask if you were okay with- I mean- did I hurt you?" He was fully sat up, his hands on either side of your face.
"I'm fine, relax," you smiled.
"Please let me fuck you."
"Again, who said I wanna fuck you?" you teased.
"Oh, you're gonna let me fuck you," he said, grabbing you by your hips and flipping your bodies so that he was on top of you again.
He pushed your skirt up and pulled down your underwear, immediately running a finger between your folds.
"Already this wet? You ready for me already?" he said.
"Guess you'll have to fuck me and see," you said.
"You..." he immediately lined himself up with you, slowly pushing himself into you, stopping after just the head and pulling back out.
By the way your body reacted to just that, with a jolt and your thighs nearly shaking, Sirius knew you were more needy than you let on, even with his teasing and reading you.
"Okay, okay, easy baby," he said, pushing fully into you as slow as he possibly could, "sh, relax, breathe," he said, knowing that you could very easily become overstimulated with how wet you were.
"What's got you like this, hm?" he asked, beginning to slowly push in and out of you.
You knew he needed one arm to hold himself up, but you took his other arm, guiding his hand to your hip, and placing it there.
Sirius gripped your hip and began to fuck you a little faster, and your back instantly arched. The moan that escaped your lips confirmed to him that he was doing exactly what you wanted.
"Aweh, you haven't been this wet since the telescope, have you? Poor baby, say something next time," he said, pouting as he nearly spoke down to you.
"I'm gonna come," you warned, almost too late, as your orgasm hit you like a train.
The feeling of you clenching around Sirius sent him into a frenzy, his gip on your hip tightening so much that it would surely leave some type of a bruise.
Despite your orgasm, Sirius didn't let up.
"Siri-"
"You're gonna come again," he demanded.
"I don't know if I c-"
"You're gonna come again," he said, moving his hand from your hip to your jaw, holding you in place so that your gaze remained locked on him, "you can do that for me, right, baby?"
"If you- if you keep saying baby," you admitted.
You had never seen the look that found its way into Sirius's eyes.
"Come on, baby, come for me, I know you can do it, baby," he spoke.
"Shit, Siri," you moaned, your second orgasm hitting you quickly from the overstimulation.
"Yes, baby, keep fucking coming," he said, both hands gripping your hips now as he pistoned in and out of you until he achieved his own release.
He rested his forehead against yours again as he came with you, both of you taking several moments to catch your breath. Your legs fell from his sides, shaking as they relaxed into the mattress.
"Good girl," Sirius breathed out, taking his time to catch his breath while still inside of you.
"Please be careful pulling out," you whispered, your voice shaky and low, "overstimulated."
Sirius looked into your eyes and smiled. "You don't know by now that I got you?"
You gave him a small smile as he started to pull out of you, slowly, before he rudely thrust his entire length back into you and then pulled out in one move.
"Sirius!" you gasped, your entire body jolting backward.
"Whoops," he shrugged.
"Fuck you," you giggled.
Sirius stood tall and began to put his clothes back on. "Don't act like you don't love me," he said, so nonchalant, so casual, that you almost didn't even think to overthink it. But you did. So you stayed silent.
"Admit it," he said once clothed, kneeling down and leaning his arms onto the bed.
"Admit what?" you asked.
"Admit that you love it when I fuck with you," Sirius teased.
Oh. That's what he meant.
"Not nearly as much as you love fucking with me," you replied.
Sirius leaned toward you and kissed you, and instead of pulling away after a moment like you usually did during a more intimate kiss, you, despite being fucked out and sticky, pulled him closer to you.
You could feel him resist at first, almost as if he was scared to share a truly intimate moment with you, just the way you were. If you were being honest with yourself, you were scared to allow yourself the feeling of being close to him in any intimate sense, because you knew you were treading in thin ice with him. You were liking him too much.
You didn't know if he felt the same. You and Sirius never spoke about your feelings toward one another, most likely because there weren't supposed to be any. Things were supposed to stay no strings, casual, sexual at best, and that was that. You still didn't know how to leave it at that with him.
Sirius's body didn't resist for long before he gave in, leaning into you as you kissed slowly and passionately. He never moved to touch you more, and you never moved to touch him. For a moment, you two were content to just be there, with each other, close.
When Sirius eventually pulled away, it wasn't far. He pulled away just enough that your lips weren't touching, but not far enough that you could even see his face.
You could tell he was contemplating saying something, hell, you could practically see it, but after a few moments of just breathing one another in, he stood back up and handed you your clothes.
────── ☾ ──────
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," you said.
"It's just Hogsmeade, drama queen," Sirius replied.
"Yeah, but I hate Hogsmeade. There's so many... people."
Sirius scoffed. "You're gonna miss out on the best english food of your life because there's other people there?"
"I have until now."
"You don't even know what you're missing," Sirius said, swinging open the door to the Three Broomsticks.
He found a table for you two, and as soon as you were approached, Sirius ordered for the both of you.
"What? You don't even know what's good here. I got you," Sirius said.
"What if I had allergies? Or dietary restrictions? What then?"
You couldn't argue, so you just let the conversation end there.
When the food was brought over, rather promptly, you might add, you took one bite and widened your eyes at Sirius.
"I told you," he said.
"Holy fuck that's good," you giggled, "how have I never been here?"
"What, Barty wasn't the dating type?"
You knew you'd regret telling him about your ex. "Barty wasn't the anything type."
"He never took you out?"
"I don't want to talk about my ex-boyfriend, Sirius," you stated.
"I can see why," Sirius responded, "he sounds like a right douchebag."
You shrugged. "He was."
"And what am I?"
You cocked your head to the side. "What are you?"
"Yeah. If Barty was a douchebag, what am I?"
"Not my boyfriend," you said, taking another bite of your food and trying to move past your obvious deflection of your feelings.
"Yes, I know that, thank you," Sirius said, a little more serious than his usual tone.
Holy shit, did that affect him?
"I just mean that I'm not gonna sit here and compare you to my ex-boyfriend," you said, "completely different situations."
"Yeah."
"What about you, hm? You got any douchebag exes?"
Sirius smiled, finally back to himself. "I don't really have exes. I mean, James and I had a thing for a few months, but obviously we're better as friends. Girls I just kinda wine and dine, if you know what I mean."
The way he said it had you laughing. "You're fucking disgusting."
"And you love it," he teased.
"Oh, you wish," you giggled. “Crazy you dated James. I thought he was dating your brother.”
"Yeah, he is."
"That's weird."
"A little," Sirius admitted, "but honestly it's not the worst. Luckily James and I never fucked, otherwise that would be weird."
"Nuh uh, come on, two Blacks for the price of one? I couldn't possibly imagine two of you," you winked, "it's so good with just one."
Sirius threw his hands up. "Oh, do NOT make me think about having sex with my brother in the room, you fucking pervert."
"Hey, listen, I've never seen him, maybe he's smoking fucking hot."
"Please stop talking."
You giggled and took a sip of pumpkin juice. "Are you close?"
"What?"
"Are you and your brother close?"
"Oh, fuck, I thought you meant am I close, like am I gonna c-"
"Okay, okay, no," you cut him off.
"We've gotten a little closer recently," Sirius started, "but no, we've never been that close."
"Is it the age gap?" you asked.
"You wanna get in to family traumas right now?"
"Only if you're willing."
Sirius sighed. "It's not the age gap, it's the fact that my parents are assholes who shower their love on Regulus and take their hatred out on me."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
You didn't want to press or make him uncomfortable, but pushing him wasn't necessary. It felt good for him to finally talk about it.
"You could call me anything, and it wouldn't even come close to the shit I heard at home. Yeah, shit got thrown, but I threw my fair share of shit too. But as I got older, it got worse and worse. Especially when I got to Hogwarts. Mr. and Mrs. blood purist didn't like the people I was hanging out with. So the verbal shit turned into much more."
"Sirius-"
"Don't worry, I'm out of there," Sirius said, and when he saw you raise your eyebrows at him, he continued, "I ran away a couple of years back. I'm done with all of that shit."
"So what do you do during break times?"
"Stay with Remus."
"Every time?"
"Yeah. He's my family."
"I'm glad you have him," was all you could think to say.
"Bloody hell, me too," Sirius smiled.
You smiled and took another bite of your food, trying to think of something to say to help break the silence, but Sirius beat you to it. "Feels like I have somebody else now, too."
You put your fork down and shared a long glance over the table. Sirius looked at you with the softest gaze he'd ever shown you and gave you a small smile.
"You do," you confirmed, resting your head in one of your hands, "you do."
"Good," he said.
"You know I care about you, Siri, and you can always talk to me if you need anything," you added.
"I know."
You stared at each other again. If you hadn't been separated by a table, you would have certainly jumped and kissed him at that very moment. The way he was looking at you, and the way he was opening up to you, made the whole "friends-with-benefits" deal all the more confusing.
You couldn't deny it anymore. Sitting across from him, listening to him to sweetly say that he feels like you're someone he can trust, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair falling in front of his face, you couldn't run from the truth anymore. You were starting to fall for him.
You didn't know his feelings. You couldn't ask.
"You know you can come to me, too," he said.
"I know," you said, taking a deep breath and opting to break the weighty tension, "so did you bring me here as a precursor to fucking? Or-"
"Ha ha," Sirius mocked you. "I didn't plan on getting lucky tonight, for your information."
"Then what am I doing here?" you said, intended as a joke, but it came off more like a genuine question.
Sirius swirled his glass of pumpkin juice and rested his elbows on the table, speaking before he brought the glass to his lips, "I don't know, maybe I just like spending time with you, hex me."
You couldn't help but blush.
On the walk back to Hogwarts, you and Sirius continued to talk about your lives, experiences, and even just random bullshit that didn't matter.
"I can barely even see, it's so dark," you said.
"That's called nighttime, good job," Sirius teased you.
You playfully hit his arm, but he grabbed your hand before you could pull it away, and swung your arms, your fingers intertwined. He never once looked down to where your hands met. He never once acknowledged it. You didn't either.
Sirius insisted on walking you back to your dorm, claiming that if you had been caught together, he could claim he forced you out, and that he was too clever to get caught alone. He claimed that if you had to fend for yourself back to your dormitory, you would most certainly get caught. You wanted to protest, but unfortunately, he was right.
When you got back to your common room, Sirius grabbed your hips and pulled you toward him.
"Thought you didn't plan on getting lucky," you said.
"I'm not," Sirius said, "I just wanted to do this."
Sirius kissed you gently, his hands still on your hips until he pulled entirely away.
"What was that for?" you asked.
"Just because," he said, smiling and beginning to make his way toward his own common room.
────── ☾ ──────
"No, dude, you're fucking whipped," Remus joked.
James took another drag out of his cigarette, his arm resting behind him on the bench as he adjusted his positioning on the ground. "I agree. Never seen you like this."
"I am not whipped," Sirius protested.
"I don't know dude, you took her on a date last night," James fought back.
"That wasn't a date."
"Then what the fuck was it?" Remus argued.
James put his cigarette to Sirius's lips and let him take a drag. "I don't fucking know, get off my ass."
"Just tell her," Remus said, "I know you aren't mister communication, but tell her. Otherwise someone else will."
"She's not seeing anyone else," Sirius said.
"And you know that how?" James questioned.
"Just don't think she would."
"Oh, why, because she's so in love with you?" Remus laughed.
"No, jackass," Sirius replied, "because I just don't think she's seeing anyone else. I know her and you don't, alright? Let it go."
"Someone is defensive today! Aweh, don't get too angry, down boy!"
Sirius flipped James off, causing James and Remus to laugh.
"Dude, you're done for. You gotta lock that down."
Sirius took a deep breath. "She's not the lock-down type of person, I don't think," Sirius admitted.
"Why not?"
"She's had a bunch of one night stands," Sirius said, blowing out smoke, "but she has had relationships. I'm not really sure where she stands on it, actually. She liked it when I called her baby, though."
"Oi, dude, that's a surefire sign," James said.
"It is, right?”
Remus chimed in, "yeah, man. Baby is intimate. It's not like a sex word that you call a girl only then. Baby is what you call your partner. She's gotta be into you, bro."
"See, that's what I thought," Sirius agreed.
"Just ask her," Remus said.
"I can't."
"You can," James said, "you absolutely can."
"And if she doesn't feel like I do?"
James shrugged. "Then Sirius Black might actually learn what rejection feels like."
────── ☾ ──────
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cried into the pillow, Sirius's grip on your waist the only think keeping your ass up for him.
"You're doing so good for me," Sirius moaned, then decided to add, "baby."
"Siri-"
You were now just exchanging nicknames to drive the other person crazy.
Sirius slapped your ass, causing you to throw your head backward. Sirius gripped your hair, yanking you back until you were up on your forearms again.
"Say what you want me to call you," Sirius said.
"I- fuck- what?"
"Tell me you want me to call you baby," Sirius said, slapping your ass again.
"I want you- to- call me baby," you gasped.
"Oh yeah? Why?"
Sirius's thrusts got sharper, and your ability to speak decreased more and more. "Why- why- why what?"
"Why do you want me to call you baby, hm?" Sirius somehow asked effortlessly, "tell me, baby. You like it when we're intimate?"
You could feel yourself still getting wetter at his words. "Y-yes."
Sirius kept his grip in your hair, and used the other arm to snake around your waist, playing with your clit while he fucked you.
You squealed, your whines and whimpers becoming uncontrollable with the added stimulation.
Sirius began to rub faster and harder, your hips moving in circles to match his rhythm, adding onto his pleasure behind you.
"Fuck, baby, just like that," Sirius said, stilling his hips and allowing you to take over. You moved your hips back and forth, fucking him as he touched you.
"Siri, I- I'm-"
"Don't come," Sirius demanded.
You whimpered and tried to protest, "I- I need-"
"Don't come until you tell me why you like it when I call you baby," he said.
You were too close to the edge to even consider protesting it. You had to say it. You wanted to say it. Right now might be the only time you'd have the boldness to say what you really wanted.
"Wan- wanna be your baby," you whined, "fuck, feels so good, Siri- like it because I'm fall- falling for you."
"Good girl," he praised, "come for me, baby."
You broke at his words, your climax hitting you so hard that your front half dropped back onto the mattress.
"Atta girl," Sirius cooed, continuing to toy with your clit as he watched your facial expressions, "keep coming for me, I'm close."
Your legs shook and your body lifted up and down dramatically with each breath as he continued to touch you, your orgasm elongating as Sirius hit his own.
When he pulled out of you, your entire body gave up, and your hips dropped onto the bed with a thud. "Fuck."
"You're telling me," Sirius said, running his fingers through his sweat-slicked hair.
Sirius made sure you were cleaned up and clothed before he said anything more.
"You wanna be my baby, do you?" Sirius teased, laying next to you and tickling your stomach.
"Shut up," you said, "you basically gave me no choice but to say it."
"Did you mean it?"
You refused to let your boldness die now that you weren't naked in front of him. "Yeah, I meant it, you ass."
"Do you want to know how I feel?"
"No."
"No?"
"I'm not in the mood to get rejected," you said, trying to keep the mood light, but failing miserably.
"And if I'm not going to reject you?"
"Then you already know no one can shut up the great Sirius Black," you joked.
"You feel it, I feel it, you know I feel it," Sirius said, "everyone can see that I'm falling for you."
Your heart skipped a beat.
"I don't know exactly where you stand with the whole fucking vs relationship thing, but I want you. Friends with benefits isn't working for me anymore," Sirius said.
"It's not working for me either," you admitted, "I want you too."
"Three minutes after coming onto your ass isn't the most romantic time to say this but whatever," Sirius giggled.
"I think you're doing pretty good," you replied.
Sirius leaned over and kissed you, gently, as a way to seal the deal.
"You know this means no more one night stands for you," Sirius said to you.
"Oh, please, I wasn't getting lucky that much. I'm offended. This also means no more one night stands for you."
"That's fine with me," he said.
"Me too."
“Now you can have an every-night stand,” Sirius said.
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” you laughed.
Who out of the Gachiakuta men do you think would go FERAL for plus sized women? I can see some being more neutral than others on the subject and some where that’s probably their type
OH??? I LOVE this question, actually, because let’s be real, some of them absolutely have a TYPE. I have taken the liberty of also adding some Raiders in here. And as a member of the plus-size community, this brings so much joy ❤️
🖤 GOES FERAL
🩶 Gris:
Yeah, no, he’s at the TOP of this list. Gris, albeit quiet when it comes to loving his woman, will do just fine with a full-figured baddie.
He loves softness. full stop. He. loves the feeling of holding you, hugging you, and overall just having his hands on you.
The kind of man who wants something to hold onto, to pull close.
He is 100% the type to be obsessed with every part of you. Truly, he lives by the " there's more to love" motto.
Gris is not just into it; that's his preference.
Will literally look at you like you hung the moon. To him, any Greek painting or statue pales in comparison to the real-life beauty that you are to him. Why waste his time looking at the depictions of goddesses when he has one right in his arms.
🩶 August:
He’s loud about EVERYTHING, so of course he’s loud about this too, more specifically about YOU.
He hypes you up constantly. Being with a low-key fashion designer has its perks. He calls all your curves his perpetual muse, and best believe he will launch a whole collection that flatters your gorgeous body.
August cannot keep his hands to himself. One minute he's at his seat drumming the desk in front of him with two pencils, and the next moment he's on you, "recharging" as he likes to call it.
“You know you fine, right??” 24/7, 365 days a year. Obsessed doesn't even begin to describe it.
Definitely the type to brag too, like yeah that’s HIS
🩶 Jabber:
Okay, hear me out...
It’s not even about body type at first; it’s about energy. Jabber is a man who runs strictly on vibes and vibes alone. And if his freak is matched, he'll run with it.
Carrying yourself with confidence is key. And when Jabber isn't literally on cloud nine, and notices said confidence???
Yeah, he’s locked in; consider this man at your beck and call.
He likes presence, something that feels real and grounded. Well, whatever grounded means for Jabber. He definitely likes it when you take up space and don't necessarily care or are bothered by what anyone has to say.
A plus-sized babe with an attitude?? Trust and believe he will be entertained and heavily preoccupied.
🖤 VERY INTO IT
🩶 Enjin:
Ok, I know what y'all are gonna say, "he said he likes hot chicks with nice curves," and yes, he does. But other than with Rudo, you don't necessarily see him being loud about his preferences. Not to say that he is ashamed cause Enjin would NEVER be ashamed about what or who he likes.
Like Jabber, you have to carry yourself with confidence. Enjin is a man who notices EVERYTHING. And the way you carry yourself will be half of the turn on for him.
The softness, the way you move, the way you carry yourself, as stated before. All of this carries more weight than what you look like to him. If you can carry yourself with minimal help, get the job done, and keep moving forward? He is down to clown.
Enjin is not the type of man to have physical touch as one of his love languages...unless it's you. The way his hand lingers a little longer on your body, the hip dips, and don't get me started on your breasts...oh yeah, he rocks HEAVY with that.
He’s not saying much, but he’s definitely thinking it, and most definitely showing it.
🩶 Arkha Corvus:
The man has a subtle appreciation for the voluptuous.
Your body is a part of you, and he loves it without any qualms whatsoever, so He’s not going to comment on it outright, not unless you ask for his opinion on something. He is, if nothing else, a respectable gentleman.
But the way he looks at you? Heaven sent, you hung the moon, the stars, and every other constellation that matters as far as he's concerned.
Yeah, he most definitely sees you. Not your body, or the number on the scale, or what you eat or don't eat (but also please eat, he'll be worried if you don't), he sees just you, his lover, the one who comforts and consoles him, his entire world.
And once he’s interested, he’s not letting that go easily. Come hell or high water, he is NOT letting you go.
🖤 NEUTRAL...THEN DOWN BAD
🩶 Bundus Bengalkeit:
He’s an open-minded man in general. Not really particular about any preferences. I mean, if he likes you, he likes you.
But once he realizes how comfortable he feels around you. Game over, pack it up. He's hooked.
Whatever you got, he's buying, no questions asked. He will absolutely love everything that you're about. Get ready to have the biggest hype man in all of history.
It’s less about appearance and more about presence. Like Enjin and Jabber, CONFIDENCE!!! He won't be too fond of you if you don't know how to carry yourself, as if you don't have any common sense, no matter what you look like physically.
But that appreciation becomes VERY real over time. One of his favorite things to do is just sit with you, listening to you talk all pretty like, and his hand just slides onto your beautiful, full thigh.
in which. . .you wake chris up with his first birthday present of the day
warnings: smut, somnophilia (pre discussed!!), oral (m receiving), few uses of y/n, kinda sub!chris, dirty talk
wc: little less than 1k
sunlight streamed through the windows of your and chris' shared bedroom, making you blink and yawn, curling into his side. your sleepy, dreamlike state didn't last for long, though. you turned your head when you heard soft, small whimpers falling from chris' plump lips.
"mmm..." he groaned, eyes closed, still sleeping. "fuck."
you gently pushed back the quilt, smirking at what you saw. chris refused to sleep with clothes on, claiming being naked was "more comfortable". that wasn't what caught your eye; instead, your eyes trailed from his sleeping face down to his erect dick, the glistening pink tip throbbing.
"y/n, baby..." he breathed softly, so quiet you would've missed it had you not been paying attention.
you glanced at the clock on your nightstand. "august 1st, 10:12 am" it read. you and chris had discussed somnophilia before; the things that were a yes and the hard no's, but you hadn't tried it yet. a grin formed on your lips as you leaned down to press a kiss to chris' tummy. what better day to try this out than his birthday, especially when he needed a little help.
making sure chris was still asleep, face contorted with pleasure at his wet dream, you kitten-licked the head of his cock, enjoying the tangy taste of pre cum against your tongue. chris moaned, rutting his hips forward to meet your mouth.
you ran the flat of your tongue along the underside of his dick, causing chris to blearily blink, a soft moan escaping him when he saw the sight: you in his shirt, waking him up with birthday head.
"aw, fuck," he grunted as you climbed on top of him. "you look so pretty." he mumbled sleepily, grasping your hips.
"happy birthday, handsome." you cooed, sucking on the sweet spot behind his ear as his curls tickled your nose.
chris let out at an actual whine as his dream came back to him and the realization that your mouth was no longer on his cock. "what happened to my birthday head?".
you giggled. "i'm getting there." you said, beginning to suckle your way down his neck, chest, and belly, leaving hickeys in your wake.
chris grunted when you made your way to his nether regions, bucking his hips up to meet your face. "i need you so bad, mama. want you on my dick."
you smiled, stroking him a few times with your perfectly manicured nails before you began to take his throbbing member into your mouth, exaggerating and slurping like it was the best lollipop you had ever tasted. chris groaned as you sucked and lapped the beads of pre cum from his tip, heat building in his core. there was nothing that got him off faster than fucking your face.
"you're so handsome, chris," you cooed, pulling off for a moment as drool ran down your chin. "lemme take care of ya, yeah?".
"shit, baby. i need your mouth." he whimpered again.
"yeah?" you cooed, tucking a curl behind his ear before moving back towards his dick. "that's what the birthday boy needs?".
chris let out a string of curses as you attached yourself to his dick again, tip hitting the back of your throat. he forced your head down as you played with his balls, moaning and groaning loudly as he hit the back of your throat repeatedly.
"oh god, fuck...'m gonna cum, babe." he whined as your mouth pleasured him.
you just nodded, continuing to suck him off and caress his balls and thighs. it wasn't long until chris tossed his head back against the pillows, groaning loudly as his cum shot down your throat, coating the inside of your mouth white. you pulled off after you had licked your lips, kissing chris and allowing him to taste himself on your tongue.
"was that an okay gift?" you asked shyly, wanting to check in after you'd woke him in such an unexpected way.
"better than good," he smirked, realizing you'd swallowed every single drop of his cum. "you should wake me up like that every day. who needs an alarm clock when i've got you?"
you rolled your eyes, kissing him again. "that's not all i have for you." you murmured softly, still a bit shy at being so dominant.
lilah yaps ⋆. 𐙚 ˚: happy birthday triplets!! as always, interactions are so appreciated! thank u thank u thank u to every single person who reads and interacts with my work, i love you all sm <3 if you want to be tagged in what i post, comment an emoji on my intro post :)
Synopsis - Enjin and I had gotten off on a bad note since the very beginning. It’s been years and that fact hasn’t changed. Semiu had decided to invite me to her usual bar visit tonight, hoping that he could see me in a new way.
aka, Enjin gets heart eyes when he sees a club fit on someone who usually only wears baggie clothes.
“Ugh, why would you invite her?!” Enjin groaned, head flopped back in mild annoyance.
“I think you should give her a chance.” Semiu looked at the man from the corner of her eyes while taking a sip from her drink. “Besides, it’ll be a little before she gets here. She just got back from a job like twenty minutes before we left.”
“But why did it have to be her! She’s like…the most boring Cleaner we have.” Enjin couldn’t help but think about the few interactions he and I have had. They were short and not many words were spoken. After all, I was a part of team Danger so it isn’t like we had the ability to get close during jobs, and on top of that I didn’t stay at HQ much, let alone at common areas. The main times he would see me was when I was leaving the building to go somewhere that he didn’t care enough to know about. On top of all that, I was boring in every sense of the word. Conversations were short despite his attempt - his single attempt - to get to know me when he first joined. The most he got was a hand full of words before I was called for another job. He kind of never bothered to try again after that. Plus the clothes I wore were…strange. Never before had he seen August make such a plain uniform. Just pants, shoes, and a shirt that were way too big for me and a fitted long sleeve top under it that covered most of my neck. The most interesting thing about me was the fact that I would sometimes forget to take my gas mask off after a job and accidentally leave it on all day.
Yeah, for sure not someone he wanted to go drinking with.
“I think you’ll be surprised if you give her a chance.”
“Give her a chance? I’ve given her plenty of chances!” The look that she gave him screamed ‘no you haven’t’. “I just don’t want her to ruin the vibe, like this conversation is doing.”
“You’re the only one ruining a vibe right now.” She had another sip of her drink as he took a drag from his cigarette. “Plus, you’re the only one who thinks she’s boring. Maybe it’s a you problem.”
“It for sure is not a me problem. I was really looking forward to picking up a hot chick tonight too…she’s just gonna scare everyone off with her weird aura.” That second part was mumbled under his breath as his chin hit the counter. Semiu turned around in her chair to look out at the crowd. They stayed in silence like that for a while before she spoke again.
“Well, well, well, speak of the devil.”
“Ugh, I don’t even wanna look.” He groaned.
“Shame, she already has someone offering to buy her a drink.” That shocked the man into turning around. His eyes scanned the room for my usual silhouette, but ended up glossing right over me.
“I don’t see her?”
“Literally right there.” She pointed towards me and it took a second for him to register that the really hot woman was, in fact, me.
“Huh?!”
“You seriously haven’t seen her out of her uniform, have you?” There wasn’t a response, she knew the answer. “You really should try to get to know your fellow Cleaners.” He just stared with his jaw slack.
There I was, the ‘boring’ Cleaner, in the middle of the room with a few people surrounding me. I wore the hottest dress he had ever seen with lace covering my legs and boots with a long, fluffy coat. My hair and makeup was done perfectly to make me look almost angelic in a sexy way. He watched as I accepted one mans invitation to drink and followed him to the bar. He ordered us both a shot. Enjins eyes refused to leave me, watching as I did the shot with the man, head tilting back as the clear liquid fell into my mouth. Watched as I couched a little before laughing with the man. I gave a smile that he had never seen before, one that almost knocked the wind from his chest, before tracing a hand over his chest and waving goodbye. I was walking over to the two now. It pained him to think that I was exactly what he pictured when he thought of his type. Semiu laughed at his face.
“Close your mouth.” She mumbled, getting up to give me a hug. “Hey girl!”
“Hey! Sorry, did I keep you two waiting long?” Enjin thought that single sentence was more words than he had ever heard me say in the entire time we had known each other.
“Not very. You know Enjin, right?” She waved a hand towards the male who tried to pull himself together.
“Only vaguely.” My attention turned to him. “It’s good to see you again. Hopefully we can get to know each other better.” There was that smile again. He was thankful that he was sitting down because it made his knees weak.
“O-oh yeah, same!” Semiu gave him a weird look.
“You’re acting strange.”
“Am not!” He bit back, glaring at the woman who just laughed. Enjin watched in the background as Semiu and I chatted and giggled for a bit as his entire perception of me shattered before his eyes. Had he really mischaracterized me this much? How did that even happen? Was…was Semiu really right? Was it his fault that he didn’t know me?
“Why don’t we all take a shot?” I suggested, trying my best to bring Enjin into the conversation since it was a little strange that he was just sitting there, staring at me. Truly, the two of us didn’t have the best history together. He had caught me at the exact wrong time when he tried to introduce himself years ago and everything just fell apart from there. I never really tried to get close to him and he never tried to get close to me either. The few times we interacted were awkward to say the least because of that. In fact, I even hesitated when Semiu invited me out with them tonight, but she insisted it would be worth my time - mumbling something about being tired of how we were acting. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to be close with him, in fact it was quite the opposite. I had grown quite fond of his face. There was no denying he was attractive and, more specifically, that I was attracted to him. But there was this chasm between us that I never even tried to cross to reach him. Hopefully tonight sets us off on the correct foot.
Shots and drinks continued to be poured as the three of us chatted. I was for sure beginning to reach my limit. I was aware of myself, but for sure not in control anymore. Giggles started to bubble up from me, making me fully laugh.
“What’s up with you?” Semiu glanced at me. Her eyes were half lidded and a more relaxed smirk played on her lips. She was also drunk. Enjin was the only one that I couldn’t guess. He didn’t seem to be effected by the drinks. He was facing towards the crowd with his elbows on the wooden bar behind him. Smoke curled around him as the smell of weed filled the space around us, having switched from his usual cigarettes.
“I donno.” I giggled, head falling into my arms that were crossed on the bar.
“You’re too far gone.” She laughed out. I instantly stood up as an idea popped into my head.
“Lets dance!” I exclaimed. Enjin watched as I tried to get Semiu to dance with me.
“No, you know I don’t do that.” The gentle pulling that I did on her arm had turned her to be facing out, just like Enjin. Her hand wrapped around me, pulling me onto her lap so I was straddling her. My hands fell to her shoulders, our faces just a few inches apart. “I’m gonna stay right here and keep drinking. Enjin will dance with you though.” That caught his attention.
“Huh?!” The sound escaped his lips before he could register it. He watched as I got excited, climbing off Semius lap and accidentally getting too close to his face. My hands were placed on his thighs to balance myself.
“You dance?!” I asked, eyes practically sparkling.
“No, I don’t-“
“Please dance with me.” For a brief second, something in the way I was acting shifted. What was once joy and turned into something else - something closer to wanting. I just looked up at him with big doe eyes, a pout on my lips, and eyebrows knitted in concern at him possibly saying no to me. Hands that had been placed for balance now seemed to cary an air of purposefulness. As if I had intended to do this then entire time. Enjin cursed himself for never seeing this side of me before - for never seeing me before.
“Fuck, I can’t say no when you look at me like that.” Just as fast as my expression shifted the first time, it shifted back. Our hands laced together and I pulled us to the dance floor. Some random popular song that Enjin didn’t care about was playing. His eyes shifted across all the women that had been eying him this entire night, watching as they looked away at us dancing together. He knew what they were thinking - they lost their chance. They were thinking that he chose me even thought he didn’t. Though, as he began to dance with me, the feeling that he did choose me began to creep in.
My hands began to go up and down my body as I swayed with the rhythm. Small details stuck out to him, like how easily my body moved and how smooth my movements were - as if I did this all the time. He thought it was cute how I was dancing with my eyes closed. It was like I could hear his thoughts considering how I opened my eyes and made eye contact with him. There was that expression again - the one that made me look like I was planning something. Before anything could happen, hands met my hips. Though, they weren’t Enjins hands.
I was pulled back against someone, my ass rubbing against their hips. Recognition flashed across my face at what was happening. There wasn’t even enough time to turn around and look at who did that. No, Enjin quickly took care of it. His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me into his chest, while his other arm shoved the person away.
“Fuck off.” He spat. The glare he wore was mean enough to scare anyone away. Once they were gone, he looked down at me. Any and all words he was about to speak died on his tongue as he caught a glimpse of me. My hands rested on his chest as I looked at him like he hung the stars just for me. “Fuck, baby. You can’t look at me like that.”
“I can’t?” I tilted my head closer to his, eyes flicking down to his lips.
“Not if I can’t act on it.” He leaned even closer. It was a stupid thought to think he wasn’t also drunk. From this close, it was very clear. The thought made me giggle. A drunkin’ mistake, I’m sure that’s what I would end up being in the morning, but I didn’t care right now. Just before our lips touched, I pulled away. He chased after me for a second before I slipped out of his hold all together. I stared at him with that same love-struck expression as I motioned him to follow before vanishing. A second passed before he did so. God, he was too whipped right now. I had him completely wrapped around my finger. He was a very simple man after all, and I checked all his boxes. What else could he do?
A/N - I’ll be so real, idk how I feel about this one, but I’m gonna post it anyway. I lowkey feel like I never write enough actual interaction between Reader and Enjin lmao. Oh well, I’ll do better next time
Summary: After getting the results of his biopsy, Mark receives life-changing news (more than once). Like everything else that’s come before, you two begin to work through it together.
AN: Welcome back, friends! First of all, wishing a special Happy Birthday to the lovely @waynes-multiverse! 🥳💕 I hope your day has been amazing, my friend!! You've probably seen me blowing up your notifs while catching up on Time After Time! lol 💛
Now, here's the last part of the 'Til When Do Us Part-verse...for now. 😉 Thank you so much for sticking with me through this angsty ride. I promise, there are a lot of hopefully satisfying payoffs here. 💜
Word Count: 3.6K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Medical diagnoses, time jumps and flashbacks, so much fluff, sexy flirting, implied smut
Posted on Patreon: 9/03/25
Series Playlist: YouTube || Spotify
Now Playing: “All That Really Matters” by ILLENIUM & Teddy Swims
Series Masterlist
Once again, Mark sat in Treatment Room 4 in his oncologist’s office with you by his side. Indira sat across from him on her rolling stool, adjusting her glasses.
“So how are you feeling?” she asked.
At this point, what he’d really fucking like was for people to stop asking him that question.
“All right, I guess. Good days and bad days, you know?” he replied.
It was actually honest. He was exhausted, but he was still alive. Your hand slipping into his reminded him.
“That’s to be expected,” Indira said. She proceeded to go through her round of routine questions. Have any nausea? Dizziness? Bouts of memory loss or trouble processing?
She also tested his memory and other cognitive functions with the kinds of questions you’d get asked at the DMV.
What was your mother’s maiden name?
What was the name of your first pet?
What’s the date of your wedding anniversary?
When did you graduate high school?
His answers?
Robin Deaver.
Smokey—a stray dog he and his friends used to feed in the neighborhood.
August 7, 2025.
Trick question: never graduated, but Mark was a proud owner of a handful of military honors.
“All right, that’s all good. Let’s get to the part you came for. The results of your latest MRI,” Indira said.
Mark’s hand tightened over yours, just a fraction. It was enough for you to give him a supportive, reassuring nod.
SIX MONTHS AGO
Two weeks after Mark’s biopsy, you both were back in a more familiar rhythm. He watched the Sunday football game from his side of the couch, with a small patch of gauze taped over the healing incision on the side of his head. Meanwhile, you took up your corner with a book and your AirPods.
Your feet were propped up in his lap. He’d massage them during the commercials, but right now he was dialed into the play and glaring hard at the screen.
“Come on, what the hell was that?" he complained. His decibels only rose from there. "Hey, fucking butterfingers! Why throw the goddamn ball if you’re gonna be a fucking dumbass about it?!”
Your gaze lifted from the page. You smirked and took off an AirPod.
“Hey, ref. You wanna calm down over there?” you said.
Mark didn’t look away from the TV. “Forty yards away from a touchdown and they pull this shit? Fucking disgraceful!”
You frowned and tapped his hand with your toes.
“Babe, I’m serious. You’ve got that vein in your forehead again. It’s gonna eat your face.”
His brows relaxed a little. A smile began to raise the corner of his lips.
“Yeah, well, I’ve also got these little hostages. So I’d watch what you say about my vein.” He teasingly tugged at your big toe, making you flinch and laugh.
“Hey!” you protested. You tried moving your feet away, but he just grabbed your ankle. Seeing that mischievous look in his eyes (and his waggling fingers), you closed your book and quickly tried to gain some leverage. “Don't! Don’t you dare—”
Your cellphone rang loudly from another room.
Literally saved by the bell.
You groaned though, tipping your head back. The last thing you felt like doing was getting up off this couch, even with the threat of foot tickling in the balance.
“I’ll get it,” Mark said, rubbing your calf. The game just went to commercial again.
He started to sit up, but you stopped him. He’d been trying to do things more often for you, to “take care of you,” in his words, but his surgical procedure was more recent than yours. You were trying all you could to get him to relax and stay put.
“It’s okay. I need to check on the soup anyway,” you said. You swung your feet onto the ground and pushed off the couch. You clocked his thinly veiled grimace. He didn’t exactly like the sound of your mom’s recipe for butternut squash soup when you told him about it this morning.
“Hey, don’t pull that face,” you warned, lightly smacking his thigh. “More veggies and lean meats. Less beer and potato chips. The doctor’s words, not mine.”
You smirked at that bland, resigned look on his face, but you hurried to the kitchen and grabbed your phone just before it stopped ringing.
“Indira, hi. How are you?”
You cradled the phone between your ear and shoulder while you opened the lid on the soup pot and stirred its rich contents. You didn’t care what Mark said. It smelled hella fucking good, if you did say so yourself, like smokey paprika and sage.
But your stomach tightened with unease. You knew this call had to be more important.
“I’m good, thanks. I’ve actually been trying to get a hold of Mark,” Indira said. “I have the results of his biopsy.”
You stopped stirring. “And?”
Mark lowered the volume on the game when he heard a fumble in the kitchen.
“Hey, you okay over there?” he called out.
Distantly over the whistle blows, he heard your voice, but not what you were saying. His brows furrowed and he paused the game.
“Babe?”
“Mark!”
The sense of urgency in your voice stirred worry in his gut. He got up and quickly went into the kitchen, where he found you sunk to the floor, sitting against the cabinets with your phone held to your chest.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Mark asked in concern, even an edge of panic. You hadn’t had any complications from your surgery last month (so far), but the trauma of that day in the hospital still flashed behind his eyes.
He knelt down to you and grasped your shoulder while he took an inventory of you. At least you didn’t look hurt.
Actually, you smiled up at him through your tears. You beckoned him closer and held his face gently in your hands.
“Indira just called with your biopsy results,” you said. “The tumor’s benign.”
Mark paused. His breath stilled in his lungs.
“It’s something called a glioma, not a glioblastoma. It’s pressing on all the wrong things, which is why you’ve been in so much pain, the blackouts and everything else, but you don’t have cancer,” you said. “They can remove as much of it as they can with surgery, then possibly some radiation treatment, but it’s—”
He had to stumble onto both his knees. The gears inside his mind grinded to a halt, then slowly churned again with the raw edge of hope.
But could he trust a doctor this time? Could he let himself believe he had a future?
You sat up onto your knees too so you could hug him tight, laying a sweet kiss to his brow, his cheek, the corner of his mouth, and finally his lips. His arm wrapped strong around your waist, holding you to him with more than just relief rolling through his veins.
His fingers threaded through your hair. He blinked back the hot sting of emotion. He was relieved for you too. He knew you would’ve followed him to the end of wherever this thing led, but if all went well from here, it meant you wouldn’t have to deal with that hole in your heart. The aftermath of him.
He wouldn’t have to leave you alone, and you wouldn’t have to let him go anytime soon.
NOW
Indira brought up his latest MRI scans on her laptop, and she smiled before she turned it around to show him the results.
“Congratulations, Mark. I know the radiation treatments haven’t been fun, but they have been successful. There’s no trace of the tumor.”
Yeah, he was bone fucking tired most of the time. He’d lost weight, having had a hard time keeping things down, or even having an appetite at all. But now, he was able to smile and nod.
You brought his hand to your lips, weeping with joy.
“So when can I get back to work?” he asked.
You looked over at him sharply. “Mark!”
He laughed. He laughed until he had to swipe at his own tears.
It was a good day to start the rest of his life.
.
.
.
(ALMOST) TWO YEARS LATER
“You’re gonna have to stop looking at me like that, sweetheart.” Mark’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, the tone he only ever took with his baby girl.
She stared up at him with expressive eyes, her mouth parting with the start of a smile while her goofball dad tried his best to get her arm through the sleeve of the sunshine yellow onesie.
“Seriously, you’re killin’ me with those eyes. Daddy just can’t take it,” he cooed.
She reached up at him with a grabby hand, and he grasped it gently in his own, kissing each of her fingers.
“Like these little sausages. I just wanna eat ‘em up. Got me a five-course meal right here.”
Olivia Robin Meachum giggled and kicked with glee when he accidently tickled her skin with his beard. He chuckled too, the crows’ feet around his eyes crinkling. His heart was full.
But again, he had that prickly feeling on the back of his neck that made him aware of his surroundings. He glanced over his shoulder and found you there. You were freshly showered, arms crossed, an amused smile on your face as you leaned on the doorframe. You brought the fresh scent of jasmine and vanilla with you when you stepped into the nursery, with its soft lavender and beige walls that you, Amber, and Mark painted.
You laid a hand on his back while he finished what he started, getting your daughter dressed for bedtime.
“You got it?” you checked.
“Yes, I got it,” he said with a note of playful indignance. “While you were off pampering yourself—”
“You mean washing my hair for the first time in over a week.”
“—I was here holding the fort with this beautiful little terror.”
He laid Livvie down in her crib after kissing her on the forehead. Afterward, he leaned his elbows on the wooden railing and just looked down at her perfect face. Already he saw some of his own features in her smile, but he was glad she had your eyes. They took in the world with sleepy wonder.
If he was honest, the awe (and fear) hadn’t completely worn off just yet, even three months into this dad thing. You sidled up next to him with a similar gaze: loving, content, and fucking exhausted.
“You know, by the time she’s sixteen, I’m gonna be…what, 60?” Mark said.
“61,” you corrected. His wry glance made you smile.
“Poor kid’s gonna have an old-ass dad,” he mused. “I can see it now. All creaky knees, embarrassing her at her high school graduation because I can’t see my damn phone screen to take the picture.”
“And you’re still gonna be sexy while doing it,” you said, sliding your hand down his back to smack his ass.
He jolted a little, but it brought a smirk to his face. He turned toward you and wrapped an arm around your waist, guiding you closer until your body was flush against his.
“Yeah? You still gonna dig all this when I’m wrinkly, balls sagging down to the floor?”
You tried to keep your laughter quiet. Livvie was starting to fall asleep to the sounds of her parents’ voices.
“Actually, I’m kinda looking forward to it,” you teased. Your hands ran up every divot of defined muscle in his arms. He’d worked hard to build himself back up and get back to the job he was born to do, back at the precinct where Finau had been promoted to Sargeant.
No undercover work though. You’d drawn a hard line on that one last September...
In the six years that you’d been with this man, this was only the second time you were contemplating murder. Even that was an incredible feat, and you deserved all the accolades.
No, but seriously. Red-blooded murder. A crime of passion, for sure, but there would be no remorse. His new boots were first on your list. His car was second, if he really wanted to test you.
From the moment he opened his mouth at dinner, to washing and drying the dishes afterward, and now following you through the house like changing rooms would make a difference in your state of mind, he stayed having nothing but audacity.
“Like I said, it’ll only be like, two weeks,” he said, yet now, with a subtle hesitation in his argument. “A month, max.”
Your steps finally halted in the bedroom. You paused, and the basket of clean laundry you’d intended to keep your hands busy with landed back on the floor. A bubble of nausea had been forming in your stomach, and maybe not just from anxiety-induced indigestion. Holding your hand there, taking a breath, you slowly turned and glared up at him. Your lips pressed into a line.
He knew then that he was pushing his luck.
“Mark, I swear to Christ,” you began. “After everything we’ve gone through for the past two years, everything you’ve gone through—”
“The doc gave me clearance to get back on the job,” he reminded you.
You batted off his hands that tried to draw you in by your waist.
“And you’re lucky you got it!” you shot back, gesturing so wildly in his face, he actually flinched back. His lips twitched though, making you even angrier.
“Oh, is this fun for you?” you accused. “Do—do you just live to stress me out? What, does it get you hard?”
Again, he had to try not to laugh. Not because he didn’t feel like an asshole for laying this on you (he absolutely fucking did). He just could help it if he thought you were equal parts sexy and adorable when you were mad.
But he knew he had to regroup. He didn’t want to, but he might have to cave on telling you a few more details on what he was working on. He and his new partner were trying to get some intel on a possible human trafficking case. That much you knew, but if you'd seen the bodies he'd seen, women your age and younger packed like sardines in some bastard's basement and left to rot, you'd understand why he wanted to nail every single person responsible.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” he said, holding you by your shoulders. “Listen—”
“I’m pregnant,” you said.
Your heart was in your throat, tears welling up hot in your eyes.
The words died in his mouth. His mind fizzled to a halt. His eyes widened, not even blinking as his head cocked slightly to the right. He stared down at you and took in that look on your face, and he knew you were just as shocked to have said what you said out loud, like this.
“Y-You…” he said eloquently.
You nodded. You and Mark had started trying a few months ago, but Indira had warned you that it might be more difficult to conceive after his radiation treatments. If it had taken longer than a year, you would’ve had to consider other fertility options, but in this case, yet again, the man was more potent than either of you thought.
“I took two tests this morning to make sure,” you said, a tear sliding down your cheek. You bat it away like it was a nuisance.
But you grabbed onto the front of his shirt with almost tentative fingers. That small gesture of comfort-seeking had Mark’s brain kicking back into gear. His face softened into a smile.
He took your face gently in his hands, and he kissed your forehead. You closed your eyes. He gathered you into his arms, and you clung to him, resting your cheek against his chest.
“I know we wanted this, but I’m a little scared,” you said quietly, a voice just shy of a whisper. “With what happened last time…”
Mark instinctively held you tighter. Those memories had a stronghold on him as well. His hand began to rub up and down your back.
“It’s okay, baby. We’ll figure it out,” he said.
You couldn’t help your hesitation before you asked, “You’re happy though, right?”
His smile deepened. “Yeah. You know I am.”
The next day, Mark met with his captain at the precinct and passed the grittier parts of the assignment to his partner, who was younger and eager for the challenge.
Mark never brought up going undercover again. This time, your health and wellbeing truly were his priority. He made that vow to himself the day he took you home from the hospital after your miscarriage. If he could help it, his job would never cause you harm again.
You also quit your job a few days after that day, when you heard that DA Valwell was arrested. Keyonte Bell exposed the DA for accepting multiple bribes from Volchek, which explained why he’d been so adamant about sticking his nose into Blythe’s taskforce. Another few months, and Volchek himself was sentenced to life in prison.
Blythe helped you out though. Heather, his executive assistant, wanted to move back to New York with her fiancé. It left a job open in his office, and a notable upgrade in your clearance.
Now, of course, you were on maternity leave. Blythe had graciously accepted your request for two months off, and another to work from home.
“What about you, huh?” you asked, twining your arms around Mark’s neck. “You still gonna want me when I’m slightly less wrinkly than you?”
He chuckled. His hands molded to the curve of your waist, and kept moving down to cradle your hips, squeeze your ass through your old favorite college shirt. It was one of his favorites now too.
“That’s what I signed up for, baby,” he grinned. “I’m tellin’ you, this pussy’s like fine wine. The taste just gets more delectable with age.”
A rush of giggles escaped you, along with a hot blush rising in your cheeks. After literally giving birth a few months ago, that was one hell of an ego boost.
“In the meantime, I say we drop Livvie off at Grandma’s house and take the first flight out to Hawaii,” he said, waggling his brows. “Or hey, just a thought—Spain. Or Italy! We never did get to have a real honeymoon.”
You huffed in amusement. “I think we’ve got some saving up to do before we update our passports, besides the fact that I’m not leaving Livvie for anything. Not for a while.”
Mark allowed that with a nod, stroking your back. You were a new mom. It made sense for you to be clingy. Hell, he was too, but it was more protective, from installing cameras and motion sensors outside the house, to having each other’s locations on your phones.
He even asked you to give him daily updates around lunchtime on what you were doing with the baby—from afternoon strolls at the park, to watching Disney movies that were probably just sound and colors to her.
He checked in with you more often too, which you appreciated. He always told you when he was leaving work, and when his shift might go late. He rarely ever missed dinner anymore, especially if you were cooking. Maybe if you agreed to have your mom take Livvie for a night or two, you’d treat him to a “Thursday Special” sometime soon.
“All right, what about Disneyland?” he suggested.
“Eh, she won’t remember it,” you said. Plus, a newborn at a loud and crowded theme park? “I think we should wait on that until she’s at least three.”
“Well, by then, she might just have a brother,” Mark said. His words were husky and teasing as he got closer to finding your lips. You smiled into his kiss.
Never mind that this man hadn’t even mentioned kids before you brought it up during the planning for wedding #1. He hadn’t seemed the type to want that kind of life, and you had been fine with focusing on your job and just being with him for a while.
You had a feeling that after his cancer scare, facing the idea of a life not fully lived, he began to think about what he truly wanted, and all the things he never thought he’d get to have.
You wanted to give him all those things, because you realized…you wanted them for yourself too.
Still, you had to laugh. “Are you serious? I just popped one out after almost ten whole months of hormones, mood swings, and bloating like a Mardi Gras float, and you want to knock me up again?”
“Uh-huh,” Mark nodded, just before he captured your lips (again).
Fucking wild man, you thought, but you couldn’t deny the spark of pleasure running down your spine, the heat of arousal rushing over your skin after he ushered you out of the nursery and across the hall to the bedroom.
Despite your better judgment, he did manage to finesse you into leaving the condom drawer shut. He even “joked” that it would take.
But even though Mark wouldn’t get his way that night, he would next year…
After your belated honeymoon trip to Spain.
AN: 😘 Sorry for teasing you guys a little at the end there lol. How do you like how it all shook out though? Did the ending make up for the emotional rollercoaster? 😂
I really do want to come back to these two for their "beginning" because I have ideas, but I've now started writing the continuation of Professor Dean x Grad Student!Reader in a new series! More previews and sexy fun soon to come! Get ready for what I'm sure will be a bunch of nerdy classic lit. references and sexual tension. 🤓😂❤️
Until then, let me know what you think of Mark and reader's happy ending! 💕
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Synopsis: You've taken care of a lot of different people during your days as a nurse. Addicts, artists, law enforcers, abuse survivors, you name it. The only person you never expected to be taking care of was James Buchanan Barnes, the most feared mob boss in the city. Hell, maybe even in the whole state. Logically, you should be scared, but up close the man everyone fears doesn't seem half as dangerous. Whilst others tend to walk on glass around him, you treat him just the way you treat everybody else. Later, when your whole world begins to fall apart, he's there to pick you right back up.
Tags and warnings: Not much in this one! Fem!reader, no use of y/n, hospital, mentions of injuries, brief mentions of suicide (no one specific), slow burn, vulgar language, brief heroin mention, lmk if I've missedd anything
Word count:: 6.3k
Kathy's notes: I was planning to post this on either Wednesday or Thursday... But hey, I said this week, it's still the same week! Either way I will be more consistent now, I just had kind of a workload as of late, sorry for being MIA! Well, whatever, hope you guys enjoy!
[Series masterlist]
August 14th 2023
Mondays at work are always the most busy. People come in with injuries that got worse over the weekend, panicked parents with kids arrive just to discover that their sweet little child was lying about feeling sick to skip school, everyone's in a rush, the waiting room is filled to the brim, the place is swallowed whole by chaos. It's a living nightmare.
Still, you love your job, wouldn't trade it for any other. Yeah, it's hard and exhausting, scary at times even, but it's also extremely rewarding. Seeing the soft smiles on people's face when their loved ones gift them with bouquets containing all of their favorite flowers, kids contagious laughter when volunteers dress up as cartoon characters and do everything they can just to make their day a bit better, watching elderly couples act like newlyweds, staying with each other from dawn until dusk and refusing to leave their partners side for even just a second, which you hear doctors complaining about sometimes, but you can’t help but find it adorable.
For the whole day you could count the small things that warm your heart and make your exhaustion and stress totally worth it. Still, if you were to choose your favourite one, it'd be the simple conversations.
That's what really motivates you. It amazes you sometimes, how behind each person there's a story that's not always as obvious and uncomplicated as it initially seems. You never pry, but if someone gives you a glimpse into their life on their own accord? You turn into the kind of listener everybody yearns for.
Like when the older lady from room 319 who always had a witty remark ready told you that she wanted to be a comedian when she was young, but it was the 60’s and her husband wanted her to be a housewife. She said marrying him was her biggest regret, told you that if you have a choice, you should always chase your dreams, not someone else's. She divorced him in 2012, later married a man that never tried to control her. You felt happy for her.
Then there was a young boy with jaundice caused by heroin. He was the definition of sunshine. Wouldn't shut up, and you didn't complain. You’ve heard a lot of interesting things from him. Gossip about people you’d probably never meet. Some Ashley cheated on her boyfriend twice, then broke it off and got with a girl. His dealer got caught by feds because some Sean ratted him out. His uncle stole forty thousand from his dad, but they won’t take it to court.
He talked about everything except his addiction, and you didn't try to coax anything out of him. He also listened to your stories just as eagerly as you listened to his, which only made you like him more.
Unfortunately, he just got discharged. Oh, you know you're gonna miss that boy.
You bid him farewell and wish a safe drive home as you watch him step out of the hospital; he turns around one last time to wave at you before disappearing around the corner. You smile and check the clock above the reception. It reads 5:53 pm, good. Two more hours and you can pack up and go home.
Lost in thought, you didn’t notice one of your colleagues sneaking up behind you, you just felt a light tap on your shoulder. You looked back and saw Kate, she started out only about a month ago. You two haven't really spoken much before, and the confusion that made its way onto your face must’ve been visible, as she immediately started explaining why she tapped you.
“Oh, hi. Sorry, I was just wondering if you're up to switch patients with me? I've got a… uhm. A new one assigned, and you have the nice grandpa from room three eighteen. I've checked your schedule. Well, uh, point is, I'm kind of scared of the new guy. Terrified, actually. Yeah. So, could you please switch with me? Please? I'll buy you a coffee?” She rambled on, her fingers played with the hem of her uniform. She was nervous, but confident nevertheless.
“Yeah, okay.” Your answer was immediate. It wasn't the first time one of your colleagues asked to switch with you. You never asked questions as to why they did, you just agreed. Well, as long as they were fine with taking care of the paperwork, because you couldn't be bothered with it. “Just tell me the room number. And the name.”
“Thank you so much! God, you're a life saver. Literally. It's room two twelve.” She exclaimed, scratched her neck and took a step back, ready to turn around and leave. You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, keeping her in place as she looked at you, a little bit startled.
“What about their name?” You repeated your question, voice soft and encouraging. She looked around the room, as if searching for something, and when her eyes finally found yours again, she opened her mouth to speak. No sound came out at first. She looked around once more and leaned in, as if sharing a secret. You felt like a gossiping highschooler in that moment.
“It's James Buchanan Barnes.” She whispered into your ear, her breath tickling the skin there. She said it so quietly you were barely able to hear her despite the close proximity.
She took a step back, putting some distance between the two of you. Your hand fell from her shoulder, your eyes wide as you tried to guess if she was being serious or was this just a stupid joke.
James Buchanan Barnes. The one man that had everyone that crossed paths with him constantly on their toes. The feared mob boss, ruling the city after dark, right under the nose of the government, who without remorse executed anyone who dared to spill anything about him.
Worst thing about him wasn't even the brutality or the power he held, but how thorough and careful he was. Everyone knew the name, everyone knew what he did, but he never left a trail behind him.
If someone disappeared from the face of the earth on a random evening, previously rumored to have been somehow involved with the king of New York, everyone knew they were probably dead in some attic, and everyone knew who did it.
Despite that there was never any proof. Not enough, anyway. He was innocent in the eyes of law.
And you just agreed to take him under your care.
“Please don't change your mind now!” Kate pleaded, the slight worry in her eyes made her look like a lost puppy. Perhaps you should've put your foot, stand your ground and let her deal with this. It would've been wiser. Definitely wiser. But you were always easily swayed.
You just closed your eyes and took a deep breath in as your thumb and pointer settled in the space between your eyebrows. She waited for you to speak, to confirm that you weren't, in fact, going to back down. After a minute or two you opened your eyes and let your hand fall to your side, defeated.
“Fine. I'll take him.” You grumbled, “Go fill out the paperwork.”
“Yes ma'am.” She fake saluted and just as quickly as she appeared, she was gone. You sighed and shook your head.
Truthfully, you didn't mind taking care of him. Sure, you were nervous, anyone in your place would be, but you weren't scared. You were… somewhat excited. A small smile crept up on your face, and you couldn't help but let out a shaky chuckle. Maybe it was this weird part of you speaking, the one that always drew you towards danger.
Before you made your way over to his room, you checked in the system for his file, quickly noting the injuries inflicted, and talked to the doctor to make sure you had everything and were clear to work.
After that was done you found yourself standing with a raised hand in front of the door to his room, ready to knock. Once again you took a deep breath in, let out a shaky exhale and finally pushed yourself to knock and enter. The door screeched as it swung open, making you grimace as your ears threatened to fall off. When was the last time someone oiled those?
You didn't notice how quick James’ head snapped in your direction when you entered, too focused on the annoying sound the door made. He glared at you like he was already planning to murder you, and that fact alone stopped you dead in your tracks. You didn't back away, though, just kept standing right where you were.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You questioned, voice loud and steady, contrary to your heartbeat, that you were sure he’d be able to hear from the other side of the room if only he cared to listen. Your eyes widened and your mouth fell agape as you realised how that sounded.
“Wait. Shit, sorry, that was unprofessional. Let me try again.” You quickly shuffled out the door and right back in, a big smile painting your face as you entered. “James Buchanan Barnes, right? Hi, I'm your nurse.” You greeted as you introduced yourself, moving to the drawers standing opposite to his bed.
He looked… confused. Still glaring, still looking like he wanted you dead for whatever reason, but also confused. Your grin only widened as you tried desperately to keep your hands from shaking, adrenaline rushing through your body in waves. You continued talking when you realised that he had no plans to answer you.
“Bruised ribs, concussion, quite a few quite deep gashes, a closed fracture in your right arm, and a second degree burn on your hand to top everything up.” You started, sorting through the medical equipment laid neatly in the drawers. “I have to say, I'm impressed. Don't know what you were doing or who got you, but man, they got you good.”
You threw him a look over your shoulder as you picked up a fresh bandage. That's when he first spoke, you heard his voice, gravelly behind you.
“I've had worse.” His comment was short, sparse. His eyes didn't leave your frame since you entered the room, assessing, calculating. The way he was looking at you like you were his next meal sent shivers down your spine, and not the good kind. You had a feeling he didn't really want to talk to you. You tried to seem calm, tried to keep up appearances. You kept talking.
“Yeah, I can see that.” You nodded in the direction of his left arm, a metal prosthetic. It caught your eye the same way it caught light. It was the first thing you noticed when you saw him.
He scoffed, you turned around and walked towards him. The strong smell of isopropyl alcohol filled the space between you. Years of working in hospitals, all stenching of the same kind of pungent smell and you still couldn't help but scrunch your nose, displeased. You kept talking as you changed his bandages and cleaned his wounds, about many things, just to occupy your mind with something else rather than the fact that you were currently treating a literal mob boss and that anything that you said and did could possibly be your doom.
“Can't you stop talking? Fuck, I shouldn't even be here.” You almost flinch when his voice, deep and displaying a clear sight of annoyance, reaches your ears. Almost. You manage to maintain your professionalism. He’s not the first criminal that you treat.
“Well, sir, if you hadn't gotten beat up so bad maybe you wouldn't have to be here. Besides, you'll be free to go first thing come Wednesday. It's just two days.” You assured, taking a few steps back once you were finished with his bandages.
“I'm not gonna wait two goddamned days to get discharged. I’ve got places to be.” He barked and silence took over the room, the loud beeping of medical machines felt deafening. You blinked once, twice.
“Don’t we all?” You said, deadpan, with nothing but a simple shrug of your shoulders. This certainly wasn't the reaction he was expecting, judging by his angered expression and one sudden movement in which he caught your wrist in a firm grip. It wasn't strong enough to hurt, but it did restrict your movements, which made you feel trapped and uncomfortable. Not enough to stop the next words from escaping you, though.
Running your mouth the way you usually did probably wasn't the best idea. He wasn't just one of your usual patients. He was a gangster. Still, the thrill his touch gave you couldn't be compared to anything you've ever felt before. It was sick. You were sick, being intrigued by his unusual, threatening presence.
“Sir, I’m truly sorry but I am not the one in charge of your discharge. You've gotta bargain with the doctor the next time you see him. And just so we’re clear, if you’re planning to just up and leave, which I can tell you are, please refrain from doing so for at least next two hours. Two and a half, actually, just to be sure. That’s when my shift ends, if you care. I’d really hate having to deal with all the damned paperwork that would cause.” You couldn't quite believe the way your voice sounded. It was disturbingly calm and even and professional, everything considered.
He let go of your wrist, leaving a faint red mark behind. He grumbled something under his breath that you weren't able to decipher. You took the chance and quickly moved towards the exit, one hand on the handle already. You were just about to slip out the door when you heard him call out your name, loudly. Your whole body tensed, your muscles disobeying your every command to move. You had a feeling he was about to threaten you, laugh at how foolish you were to speak to him in a way that you did, do anything, really, just not what he ended up doing
“Where are you going?” Your head snapped in his direction, the crease between your eyebrows deepening. You just… stared at him for a moment, which definitely did nothing to help your case. You tried to decipher his intent, but his face didn't betray any emotion, and his body language was scarily neutral.
“Places to be.” You answered, a small smile creeping up on your lips.
You took control over your limbs again, determined to just get out of the room, even though something deep inside you tried to convince you to stay for just a moment longer, for what reason, you didn't know. You didn't wait for a response. Excitement mixed with fear and you practically bolted out on the corridor, slamming the door behind you so hard the frame rattled.
You went on about your day as if nothing unusual had happened, but the thought of your whole interaction with him lingered in the back of your mind. You were unsure of what to think of him. The way everyone described him in all the worst ways imaginable didn't quite sit right with you. He was intimidating, sure, but you wouldn't go as far as to call him terrifying. A little scary,, maybe, but definitely not terrifying.
You simply decided to push that thought away for now, focus on your job. You honestly didn't expect to see him tomorrow, anyway. He’d slip away unnoticed and that’d be the last you ever see of him. It was the only possible outcome. Well, not only, but you decided not to test your sanity with thoughts about getting tortured in some dark and clammy basement.
Monday bled into Tuesday just like it did each and every week. New day, new chances, same old routine that you’ve followed on work days ever since you started out. Everything was the same; the sickeningly white hallways of the hospital, the strong smell of disinfectant, the receptionist with her practiced smile and bored eyes, the laughter and quiet sobs of people echoing in the air. The normalcy of it all almost made you forget about yesterday's surprise. It seemed distant to the point you started wondering if that wasn't just a dream you've had
It wasn't.
Reality dawned on you once you’ve entered room two twelve. You genuinely expected to see an empty bed, messy sheets and an open window, indicating the way James took to leave. But he was there. He was there and looking right at you with his piercing blue eyes.
“What are you still doing here?” was the first sentence that left you upon seeing him. God, you really got to start thinking twice before you start talking, you scolded yourself internally. He didn't seem much phased, though. More so, you could swear that the corners of his mouth twitched, just for a second.
“A certain nurse with absolutely outrageous bedside manners told me I had to bargain with the doctor. He hasn't shown yet. Besides, I kinda wanted to know what stupid reply she’d come up with today.”
You tried to hide the shock you went through in that moment. Seems like he was… entertained by you? Well, you’d take that over angry any day. No complaints from you. The last thing you needed was to get on his bad side.
“You could’ve just… gone through the window.” You shrugged. He looked at you with amusement visible in his eyes.
You wondered what kind of change he went through at night. Just yesterday that you saw him he was all glares and frowns, and now you could swear he was close to smiling. See? Nothing to be scared of.
“What kind of amateur do you take me for? I could've walked right through the front door without anyone noticing.”
You smiled. You didn't know why but his comment just felt unintentionally funny to you. You knew he was serious, and that he probably would be able to go through the front door without being stopped even if somebody had seen him.
“I’d like to see that.” You chimed, and after a moment of silence you added, “Care to walk with me, sir?”
He looked like you just asked him to stab you.
Another moment passed in silence, you waited patiently for an answer.
“No.” He grumbled, deadpan.
“Oh. Well that wasn't exactly a question. I just asked so you wouldn't feel stripped of free will, you know? But I do have to take you and just walk around for a while. Outside or corridors?” You pushed, maybe foolishly. You don't expect him to agree, but giving up is not in your job description.
He clicked his tongue and looked over your shoulder, as if searching for someone there who could possibly tell you to fuck off. He could, but you wouldn't listen. He doubted you even listened to your superiors, as long as they don't threaten you with losing the job.
You couldn't hear what he said next, but he reluctantly stood up and took a few steps in your direction. The smile on your face only grows as he does so.
“At least someone seems excited.” He commented, you didn't bite. Instead, you decided to share your destination with him.
“You didn't answer me before, so I’ll choose. We're going to the roof.” You beamed, excited.
You wait for a question you know is coming just by looking at him. Maybe you know only because you want him to ask. Either way, you don’t have to wait long.
“Roof? Why wasn't that an option before?”
“Why? You’d choose it if it was?” He scoffed, your smug tone not passing him by.
“No.”
“Okay. I believe you.” You don’t. He’d definitely choose the roof. So would you. The way he glares at you as you walk tells you he doesn't believe you, either. That only makes your smile grow.
It’s high up. The hospital is a huge one. Six floor building, and you take the stairs, even though an elevator exists and is intact. At one point James asks you about it, but you don’t grace him with an answer, to which his expression goes sour. Even though it’s already been sour.
You lead him through corridors and staircases, and once you're in the final one you can see a huge, metal door at the end of it. The light in a tunnel.
“Why is it so goddamn dark in here.” James asks, although it comes out more as an angry grumble. You try to contain your laughter, fortunately succeeding.
“It’s a restricted area.” You shrug and continue walking. “The roof, I mean. Too many suicides. TJC told the higher ups to close it about a year ago or so.”
“Why are we here then? Shouldn't you stick to the rules, nurse?”
“Wheres the fun in that?” You push the door, leaning your whole body weight on it. You let out a groan when it doesn’t budge. “Besides, it’s not like we’re gonna jump, is it? Not me at least, and you don’t look the suicide type, either. So unless you’re planning on pushing me off, we’re fine.” You ramble as you try your best to get the damn doors to open. You take a step back and kick it when it doesn’t work.
“Help me out there, would you?” Let’s just say he doesn't look convinced. “Please?”
He sighs, but gives in. After a few seconds the door creaks open with an insufferable screech. He groans, you cover your ears and an annoyed expression creeps up onto your face. Has any door in this damned building ever seen oil?
Your annoyance is soon replaced with pure amusement as you take the first step outside, stepping to the side to let James walk out, too.
“Honestly, I thought they locked it. Who doesn't lock the door to a restricted area?” You hum as you take in the scenery before you. It looks pretty much the same as when you had last seen it. Plants scattered all around, only this time bigger and much more wild. No fence whatsoever, only a half-wall, cement, knee high. Perfect to sit on. There's a singular bench in the corner, but you pass by it. Walk straight to the edge.
James is still standing in the entrance as you turn to look at him, send him a brief, passing smile. You don't make an effort to start a conversation with him. It’s mostly silence with that man, you've learned. He’ll only speak if and when he wants to.
You turn away from him, now looking to what's beyond the hospital. The city of New York. It seems huge from where you stand. Minutes fly by this way, five, ten. You don't even care to count. You're content. You've missed this place.
“You’re not scared of me” He finally mutters, quiet, accusatory. You don't even look at him, just sit on the edge of the roof, legs swaying back and forth. If anyone were to see you there, you'd probably get a good yelling from your supervisor, but you find yourself unable to care.
“No. I’m not. But I was. Yesterday? I was shaken.” You keep your eyes glued to the city stretching out before you. You focus on the sun slowly disappearing behind the horizon in between all the tall buildings of New York.
His eyes are locked on you. While you watch the sunset, he watches the way all the tension from the day leaves your body. Your shoulders drop, your breath evens out, you let your hair, usually always pinned in a neat bun, loose.
“I could see that. But you weren't scared.” You’re almost sure that his voice now sounds different, more soft around the edges. You don't let yourself believe that. You blame it on the wind quickly picking up.
You take a minute to formulate your thoughts. You’re not sure how to answer him. He’s right. Partially. You wouldn't say you were scared of him, although at first it sure felt that way, but you weren't exactly calm, either.
“I don't know. I can't tell the difference between fear and this weird kind of anticipation. It’s annoying.” You mutter as you look down, only now really noticing how high up you are. Since when was the building that tall?
“Why?” You hear his voice behind you.
“What?”
“Why aren't you scared?”
You turn your head, catch his eyes with your own. His metal arm is rested on his hip, the crease between his eyebrows deep. He’s either genuinely curious or simply angered. You swing your legs up and over the half-wall, your back now turned to the city, your front towards James.
The wind, as if sent specifically to irritate you, blows your hair right into your face. You push it back, revealing a soft smile. “You don't seem to have any murderous intentions towards me.” You point out with a quiet chuckle, yet still extremely carefully pick your words out.
“So you're betting your life on a hunch?” He’s trying to look intimidating. You can see that very clearly, but his eyes betray him. Make him look almost friendly. Your smile only grows.
“Meh. If you wanted me dead I would've been dead already.” You pat the space next to you, inviting him to take a seat. “Instead you’re… actually kinda nice. Nicer than my boss, that’s for sure. I guess that surprised me a bit.”
He grumbles something under his breath that you fail to catch. He’s not staring at you anymore, he’s looking at the space next to you. Reluctantly, he walks over to where you are, sitting down where you invited him to. You’re not touching, he keeps his distance, but he’s close enough for you to reach him, if you wanted to. You don’t.
After a moment of silence he finally speaks. It’s a question, said so quietly you are barely able to hear it. He seems almost embarrassed to be asking it. “What were you expecting me to be?”
You’d be lying if you said that it didn't take you by surprise. Up to this point he seemed indifferent when it came to what others think of him. You contemplated lying to him, making something up to escape the intensity with which he was now staring at you. He looked almost expectant.
You’ve already debunked the ‘he’s gonna kill you for saying the wrong thing’ theory, but you still felt resistant, maybe even slightly worried, to cross certain boundaries. You weren't sure if what you had to say would upset him or not, but in the end you decided to be truthful. Just in a way that maybe wouldn't seem to be a personal attack towards him.
You tilted your head to the side, thinking how to word your thoughts. You decided to reference some things you, and everyone else who lives anywhere near New York, had heard about a dozen times already.
Your eyes strayed from him as you spoke, afraid to look him in the eyes as you brought up, carefully, in a nice way, but still brought up, the ugly things people said about him
“Uhm. Don't know. Something more like, mysterious presence, murderous nature, anger issues, deathly stare, although you kinda have that one. You know, the stuff everyone says. All the rumors.”
You were really on edge, both literally and metaphorically, as you waited on a reaction from him. To your surprise, he answered with a simple hum, adding after about a minute of silence, “You don't strike me as the type to believe groundless rumors.”
You lean back on your hands, tilt your head back. Your upper body is almost all over the edge. It sends a rush of adrenaline through your body, which satisfies you. The fact that you could just kick your legs up and fall down onto the concrete below. But your knuckles turn white, holding you steady right where you are.
That feeling of danger surrounding you makes it easier to talk to him. You don't focus as much on what comes out of your mouth. It dims the danger he could possibly pose, making him seem less like a threat, more like just a guy.
“Thats because I don't” You start, “but there’s always an element of truth hiding beneath all the lies. So, you wanna tell me what that element is, or should I be guessing?” He’s already staring at you when you look at him again. Probably had been for the whole time, guarded, but you can see he’s breathing lighter than before.
“Depends. What do you want to be true about me?”
Silence envelops you for a moment, as it does so often but you don't break eye contact with James. You open your mouth to speak, change your mind and close it, then open again after a while. He’s waiting for your answer, patient. He doesn't rush you.
“From all the things I've heard?” You finally say, your voice almost a whisper. “You protect your people, right? Take care of them.” There’s a hint of expectation there in your voice. He doesn’t miss it.
You can swear thenthat you see his eyes soften. You can’t tell if it’s your answer, sweet and almost innocent, that caused it, or is it good memories surfacing at the mention of his people. “Yeah. I do. Picked most of ‘em up from the street. Druggies, thieves, madmen. They're my responsibility now.” He’s brief, not going into detail. You’re satisfied with what little he gives you.
You smile, real, and tilt your head sideways in awe.“That’s… almost heroic.”
“Wouldnt exactly say that, but, uh, whatever floats your boat.”
“Hm. Can I ask you a question?”
His eyes are locked on yours still. He clicks his tongue, and you can see just how tall his walls are. And here you were starting to think that you would manage to break through them.
He keeps quiet. You’ve come to the conclusion that he won’t agree to play along with your questions. You open your mouth to tell him that its okay, he doesn't have to agree, but he beats you to it.
“Sure, but I’ll throw you off the roof if I don’t like it.” You beam anyway.
“Ha ha. You’re funny.”
“Obviously. Come on, hit me with it.”
You stay the way you are, unmoving, mouth still half open. You didn't expect him to agree, and now you're not even sure if you want to know the answer to what has been bugging you ever since you first stepped into the same room as him.
Well, to be fair you do already know the answer. Everyone does. But you have a feeling that hearing it from the man himself will make it more real. For better or worse. You decide to just go for it.
“Do you really kill people?”
The question hits like a truck. It hangs in the air, unanswered. He’s not looking at you anymore. You can see the way his jaw clenches, how the air between you suddenly feels suffocating. It’s quiet for a moment, even the light whistle of wind had stopped, as if taken aback by the words you dared speak. You knew it was a bad idea. Knew that you should just bite your tongue. Why didn’t you?
You wanted to explain yourself. Apologize and hope that you didn't insult him with your blatant nature. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ha-”
“No. It’s fine.” He cuts you off with a sigh. You’re grateful for that. “And yeah, I do. But it’s more complicated than just that. I only kill the ones who deserve it”
You should just stop it there. Let the silence speak for you until the conversation drifts into something different, something more pleasant. But now it's your jaw that’s clenched, your nerve that got struck, and you just can’t stop yourself. You never really can.
"It's not up to you to decide who deserves it.” You mutter, some part of you praying that he doesn’t hear what you have to say, the other hoping that he will. “You either hurt people, or you don't. Doesn't matter who that is you kill or what they did. You’re still a murderer.”
James doesn't try to deny it. Doesn't try to make excuses. His eyes are locked on something far away, emotionless.
“Yeah. Guess I am.” His voice, although strained, is deep and strong. Shameless.
You nod. You know he can see you from the corner of his eye, still, you feel the need to elaborate. “Mhm. But it doesn't necessarily make you a bad person.” He snaps his head in your direction, his previously unreadable expression turned a kind of angry you weren’t able to name.
“How come? You just called me a murderer.” He barked, and you just shrugged. It was your turn to look away from him now.
“That’s because you are one.” You state, matter of factly.
“Youre not making any sense.”
You're not sure you'd be able to explain to him your thought process. Probably not. So for once, you don't bother. You shrug again. “Yeah. I suppose not.”
You can feel him tense beside you. He’s not going to grant you an answer. Not now. You force a gentle smile on your face and stand up abruptly.
“Let’s head back. I still need to check up on my other patients.” You can feel his eyes staring holes into your back as you slowly walk away from him. It takes a while, but eventually you hear footsteps following you back down.
You didn't talk much on Wednesday. You’re not sure why, maybe it was the workload you had, you had to focus on your other patients. Maybe yesterday's conversation made the air between you flood with a quiet awkwardness that neither you nor he dared voice.
Or maybe it was the knowledge that it is undoubtedly the last day you would ever see each other.
Nothing will change for you once he’s gone, you’re gonna continue doing your job, enjoying the conversations you have and stories people tell you. Maybe occasionally you’ll miss the thrill and uncertainty James’ presence brings you, and he will go back to his vigilante life, forget that you’ve ever met.
It was weird, how you didn't even know him, he told you barely anything, yet you’ve already got so attached to him, and in a very specific way. He made you feel this weird kind of giddyness, the conversations you’ve had with him filled you with equal part worry and anticipation.
You’ve always made it a point not to get attached to the people you treat. They never stay, rarely ever come back. And it would be unprofessional. You didn't want that to mess with your effectiveness. This job, as tiring and scary as it could be, was the most important thing to you. Well, maybe with the exception of your cat.
You tried to shove down the feeling of disappointment, bordering on sadness, as you made your way towards the lobby where you’d say your goodbyes. It wasn’t a requirement, but you did it for everyone. You liked to think of it as a simple nice gesture.
He was standing with his back to you when you saw him, yet still managed to notice you somehow, as he turned to you the exact moment you entered.
You waved at him, he didn't wave back, but waited for you right where he was.
“So,” You started, “You finally got the discharge you were so mad about the first day?” It came out as a question, even though you knew exactly that he did.
“I wasn't mad.” He shot back, a frown on his face. It almost made you smile, how offended he seemed at you pointing that out.
“Sure.” You agreed just for the sake of it, not in the mood to bicker about it. “Well, either way, you’re free.” That earned you a small smile. Well, not even, the corners of his lips just tweaked upwards momentarily, but that’s a smile in your books.
“You make it sound like I just got bailed out of jail.”
You shrug, not really knowing how to wrap up this conversation. Or how to continue it. You were about to settle for a quick, practical goodbye, but then he held out his hand to you, the metal one. There was a small piece of paper, with something scribbled on it. A phone number.
You looked between him and the paper he was holding out for you. You weren't sure what to do.
“Take it.” He urged, and you obeyed, taking it from his hand and looking it over. “My phone number.” He confirmed what you were already expecting. “If you’re ever in trouble, need protection, don’t hesitate to call me.”
He didn't give you a chance to thank him, to say goodbye or make any comment about it. He was already halfway to the exit from where you stood when you realised what had happened.
He stopped right in front of the door, just for a moment, moment short enough to call your name and get your attention.
“Had I told you that your bedside manners are goddamn awful already?” His voice rang through the whole lobby, heads turning your way, but the only person you had your eyes on was James. You smiled, and to your surprise, he reciprocated it. Not just a twitch of his mouth upwards. An actual smile.
Then he left, and you stood there like a fool for the next five minutes, staring at an empty space, caressing the piece of paper like it was the most precious thing anyone ever got you.
