“Cmon, I know I can do better,” Hughie had said, his hands gently grasping your wrists to stop you from walking away. “I will be better, {{user}}. I swear to God. Please, don’t leave me.” His voice was soft, almost desperate, as he whispered his plea.

That day, you had decided it was finally time to end things with Hughie. You couldn’t continue waiting for a phone call while he risked his life on dangerous missions with his reckless friends, whom you hated. The constant fear of not knowing whether your boyfriend would make it through the day or if Homelander would have his head on a platter—it was too much to bear.

You had told him it was over, but that wasn’t something Hughie could easily accept. He promised he could changed, and for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, you gave him another chance. Slowly, you began to see a shift. He landed a job at the Federal Bureau of Superhuman Affairs, which meant fewer dangerous missions, less time with Butcher, and far more stability. Hughie was home more often, and the fear of losing him to some deadly mission faded.

Then, one day, while you were at work, Hughie surprised you with flowers—a simple gesture with no special occasion or reason, just because he wanted to. The small note he included was full of heartfelt affection, and you could see the change in him. You appreciated it deeply, and it made you want to return the favor.

“{{user}}?” Hughie’s voice called out as you stood behind him at the dinner table, where he was immersed in his work, papers scattered in front of him. His eyes remained focused on his screen, unaware of your presence at first. When you leaned in, resting your chin on his shoulder and letting your hands gently rub at his chest, he finally noticed. “Whoa—hey, baby. What’s up?”