#they conveniently leave out that its about a BLACK man

[neechees]

There's this song called "Bruno is orange" which is about a secret love shared between a Black man & a White Woman during the segregation era (or earlier), which includes explicit references to the way Black men, including young Black boys, are hypermasculinized & treated as inherently dangerous to White women while also being called "boys" & denied manhood, with the White woman desperately trying to hide her lover from jail because they were caught & facing targeted abuse. Towards the end of the song, the singing gets more desperate and erratic with chains banging to the beat, indicating that the Black man in the story was going to be jailed.

The top comment of the audio of that song is a White person saying "I know it's about a man and a lady but I'm going to pretend it's about lesbians". I hate White people.

[dolokhoded]

simon zealotes you are in my thoughts

[hoshigray]

Been thinking about this scenario a lot, but ex-husband! Toji, where you two are pretty chill with each other, even after five years of divorce. But the feelings between you two start to parade back after all these years, and it all comes boiling over after spending one night together.

A/n: Been a while since I've done one of these scenario thingies, plus this idea has been rotting my mind for a long time, and I needed it to get out, lol. I pushed back my Gojo fic to tmrw or Thursday because my brain was not feeling like re-reading 3-4k words while running on one hour of sleep. So, instead, we're dropping this in its stead. Sorry about that, and hope you like this while I fix the fic up later today :) Any grammar/spelling errors on this will be dealt with tmrw.

Cw: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - implied that reader is entering their mid 30s - starts out cute the first half but smutty the next, so minors DNI - implied that Tsumiki and Megumi are around middle school age; 12 (T) and 11 (M) - pining; Toji is whipped for you, I fear - Daddy kink - prone bone position + mating press - pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweetie, mama, princess) - cervix fucking - praise - itty-bitty-tiny overstimulation - closure; happy ending (?).

Wc: 3.4k (wow, way longer than the last one, lol)

Ex-husband! Toji...

...who you've divorced after being together for four years. It was a marriage built on love, convenience, and heartache. There is no denying that Toji loved you very much; if anything, the man would set the world ablaze if anything were to happen to you. Especially when you were the sweetest thing that blessed his presence and his two children who were young at the time — Tsumiki and Megumi at age three. The fact that you loved him as much as he loved you is beyond doubt in Toji's mind. However, somewhere down the line, you felt a "shadow" that you could not surpass nor fill — the late wife of Toji.

You could tell that Toji still had a piece of him that just couldn't let the memory of his late wife go, and you understood that. Hence why you chose to leave him, which was glum for all parties, but Toji understood where you were coming from and signed the papers.

...who's still chill with you after the divorce. You two promised not to act like complete strangers, especially with Tsumiki and Megumi being close to you. Just because the ring isn't on your finger doesn't mean you must change completely. The two of you are comfortable enough to be in each other's company, taking turns watching over the kids and acting like you're still married by poking fun at one another like the good days.

"Hey, big guy," Toji turns to the kitchen hallway where you're looking at him, his usual black coffee in his mug still sheltered in your apartment cupboards. "You look like shit; too tired to go to the clubs to find some minx to wow you enough like you used to?"

He snickers at your brazenness. "Shut up, brat. I could ask the same fr' you. Got some good dick on the side to help that attitude of yours, baby?" After checking around to see if the kids are nearby, you give him the middle finger. He chuckles before sipping his coffee.

...whose kids adore and love you so much that they secretly try to have you and Toji in the same place, which the two of you are entirely aware of. Five years passed after your separation, though that doesn't hinder the children from wanting you back in their lives again. Because to them, you are always a Fushiguro, and the love for you will always be there. It's there when you go to Tsumiki's soccer games and drag your ex-husband to find a better seat on the bleachers to watch her play. It's there when Megumi tells his father he "accidentally" left his baseball bat at your place and "unfortunately" now has to spend the night there (and you always receive them). And it's there when you promise to come along on family trips, like going to the zoo and taking pictures by the Panda enclosure with his daughter or going to the aquarium and listening intently to his son explain all the different types of jellyfish.

Toji can't blame his own kin for being attached to you because you are still a mother in their eyes. And so to his.

...who has his wedding ring on his dog-tag necklace but always tucks it under his shirt whenever you're present. It gives him a peace of mind when it comes to you because if he can't be there for you 24/7, he knows you're under his protection whenever you need it. But the thought of you knowing he still wears it makes him anxious, worried that you'll take it the wrong way and request he never wears it again. So, for his sake, he keeps you blind to this secret. And he wonders if you ever wear yours...

...who welcomes you without hesitation when you have to spend the night at his place because he notices you're too exhausted to go home so late. The only problem is that there's no other room outside the kids and Toji's. And as much you protest, expressing your satisfaction with taking the couch, your ex-husband disagrees and will carry you to bed, sneering to himself as you try to wiggle out of his stronghold until he smacks the bedroom door closed with his leg.

"I told you I was fine sleeping on the couch, Toji." You complain to him, yet your back is pressed against his chest with his arm around your waist.

"And I told you not gonna happen, princess." his hold around you gets tighter, pulling you closer for him to rest his chin on your shoulder. "You'd probably fall off and smack that pretty face of y'rs on the floor."

"I would not—You know what," you stooped from saying anything further to the man grinning behind your ear. You shift a bit to make yourself comfortable. "Goodnight, Toji. And thank you."

It takes every fiber in his being to not kiss your cheek then and there. Exhaling softly through his nostrils as he lays his head back on the pillow. "No problem, sweetheart."

...who the last time he had someone after your separation was not feeling it at all. You even said he is free to do whatever he wants when moving on to the next minx that caught his attention. You two are adults and shouldn't feel entitled to putting each other on a leash. Despite that, he knew moving on from you wouldn't be easy — especially in the bedroom.

The women he's had after you can only be counted on one hand. No matter how good the fun was with the others, his mind would always crawl back to you. It didn't matter how different their hair was, what they dressed that night, or how fucking good the sex was; you would cloud his mind in some way. They weren't you. They weren't his sweet thing.

...who's extremely perplexed in a nightclub when he sees you. He didn't want to go in the first place until Satoru Gojo barged into his apartment, dragged him out in his best attire, and left Nanami (another victim of Gojo's foolishness) to babysit Megumi and Tsumiki. And it was bad enough that Gojo snaked away from Toji to the dance floor the second they got inside, the raven-haired man almost popping a vein in vexation.

So the older man resorts to just doing the usual gig: walking around before sitting at the bar to ask for a regular beer. He stays there for nearly half an hour, taking sips of his bottle while sweet-talking to the ladies that occasionally find him and give him his number. Things got really loud when the DJ at the discothèque played "Up!" by Lil Vada and DonnySolo, all the party people crowding the floor, bumping and grinding each other while singing the lyrics. It was at this point that Toji had enough of the massive headache growing in his head, so he was about to down his beer and leave the club; Gojo be damned because the fucker could find his own way home and then some.

But midway through putting the beer bottle on his scarred lips, something in Toji's peripheral captures his attention. And his jade eyes go wide at what he sees.

Down to the right side of the dance floor are booths catered to bigger parties, so it's obvious to notice when a single person sits alone on one of the round tables while everyone else is dancing their hearts out. That one person was you, observing the dance floor with your head on your hand resting on the table.

To say that Toji was flabbergasted by the image of you in a place like this after all these years was tough for him to comprehend. Yet what really had him in a chokehold was how stunning you were. From where he stood, he could tell that you dolled yourself quite a bit. Your hair was kept in a style that displayed your face wholly, and you were wearing a beautiful halter-neck dress with slits revealing your thighs deliciously.

He forgets how to breathe when your eyes drift in his direction and find him. You're just as surprised as he is for a short moment, but you offer him a familiar smile and beckon him to come to your side of the club. The older man wastes no time, paying the bartender and making his way through the crowd to your table. When he's close enough, he can tell that your dress is backless, exposing your smooth skin that calls for him to touch.

And when Toji notices the ring on your left hand — the old wedding ring he gifted you — the world around him comes to a complete standstill.

"Hey, big guy." He snaps back to look at your beautiful face, your smile still there to blind him, and the booth far from the dance floor and music so he can listen to your sweet voice. You move to the side to make room for him to sit. "Didn't think I'd find you here."

"Me neither." He admits to you as he takes a seat, his green orbs never leaving your figure. "What are you doin' here?"

"Some friends dragged me out here for one of their birthdays. I figured I'd be here for a few hours and loosen up a bit, you know? But I don't know, I guess I'm just so used to being at my place that I'm out of practice with clubs."

Toji nods at your answer. "Yeah, I was dragged here, too. I'm with—"

"Gojo? Yeah, I thought so. He's right there dancing with my friends." He pans around to the dance floor to see commotion at the center. The snow-haired man was dancing as a crowd formed around him, getting grinded on by a woman with a "happy birthday" headband.

Gojo notices the raven-headed man staring his way, pulls down his shades, and winks. That's when the reason why Toji was brought here in the first place hits him. Gojo knew you would be here tonight because of your friend's birthday. And now that you two are sitting alone, the wink signaled Toji to make his move.

"....Wanna get the hell outta here?"

You giggle at his suggestion. "Yeah, I don't feel like watching my friends get pregnant on the dance floor."

Toji snickers and grabs your hand to lead you out of the booth. He then drapes his denim jacket over your shoulders to cover your exposed shoulders and back, and the two of you leave the club without anyone noticing a thing.

...who spends the rest of the night with you as if you two are on a date again. It's late, so many shops around the area are closed already, but that doesn't stop the two of you from having fun. From sharing a meal at a nearby diner, walking around a shopping plaza admiring the silent ambiance, and listening to old tunes in his car as you two share stuff about your day while holding hands. And the change of mood completely baffles Toji. Nevertheless, when he sees the smile on your face and hears the sweet tune of your laughter, the grasp on your hand gets tighter with every minute. All his intentions go into enjoying having you with him like this again.

...who stays by your side until he has to drop you off at your place, parked his car to walk you to your apartment door. It's 1 o'clock in the morning, way later than Toji ever intended to stay out. Not that it matters now, because it's all worth it being able to walk with you. He doesn't let go of your hand even when his heart dies a little when you two arrive at your door.

"Had a good time?" You ask while unlocking the door; your eyes showcase subtle exhaustion but are overshadowed by your smile.

"Sure as hell did since I saw you at the club." He confesses, your chuckles casting a spell on him.

"Hmm, I'm glad you were there too, Toji." You meant those words, your eyes gazing into his, and the man's plunged deep into your gorgeous orbs. A feeling that he now realizes he wants to be the only one experiencing with you.

An awkward silence for a few seconds prompts you to snatch your hand away from his, causing his stomach to drop. "Sorry, your jacket" is what you use to excuse yourself, moving to take off the denim jacket. But Toji stops you, his hands stationed on your shoulders to keep you still.

"No, it's cold, sweetie." His voice is hushed, only for you to hear. "You can give it back next time."

Silence comes back again, but the air is heavier this time. The awkwardness is replaced with something more solicitous, more affectionate. You notice it when Toji has yet removed his hands from your shoulders, his large palms warming you up to the touch.

"Toji—"

"It's alright, baby." His gruff tone is still a whisper, and butterflies flutter in your stomach. "I won't do anythin'."

"No, no," you don't know what came over you, but you place your hands on his chest. Then your finger touches something from underneath his turtleneck, having you pull his collar down to pull out the dog-tag necklace that still harbors his old wedding ring. Toji's blood shifts to ice cold when you see the accessory — his anxiousness spikes up to an all-time high, only mere seconds from combusting based on whatever your response will be. And it comes.

"I...I want you to do something, Toji." It felt strange saying those words with your shaky confidence, though it's what you wished to express. "I want you..."

And just like that, whatever restraint that the older man had for you was butchered away. Emerald eyes take in every feature of your anticipating expression, and his lips come crashing down on yours.

...who couldn't care less how late it is right now because he finally has you where he wants you after all these years. It's 2:30 in the morning, way too late for loud noises as they'll disrupt the neighbors next door. But, again, Toji doesn't care about that. When he finally has you lying under him on your stomach, screaming out his name while he drives his cock deep inside you, what is there to care about?

The two of you are in the prone bone position, where you lie flat on your belly on the cream-white satin sheets of your bed, your legs in between Toji's and bare ass out for him to have easy access to your creamy cunt that hugs onto him all so well.

Tears paint your wet and sweaty face, drool escapes from the corner of your mouth and meets the sheets beneath you. The harsh thrusts of Toji's pelvis hitting your ass with such precision have you see stars, and his big hands keep your arms still. All you can hear are the ecstatic cries of your voice and the noises of skin smacking together.

"Nnmph!! Haaaah!! Ahhhh, yesssss, Daddy, just like that," your voice feels strained from all the screaming you've been doing for the past hour. Lips are swollen from the constant biting, your butt stinging from the intense contact with your ex-husband's pelvis. It's hard to think of anything but the man above you and his dick rearranging your slit like his personal toy. You never thought you'd experience this exhilarating and rewarding sensation again. And now that you do, it's all you want to indulge in. "H-Harder, pleaseeee, I want mo—Ahhhnnn!"

Toji grinds his hips down to your ass, churning your insides and grazing your cervix to the point of incoherent babbles. "Mmmm, oooh, shit, fuckin' shit. You're too tight on me, mama." He gives you a sharp thrust when you least expect it, and the walls of your chasm clamping down on his length has him hiss. It's hard to believe you're permitting him to have you like this. It's been five years. Five years of respectful boundaries and keeping a platonic relationship. Five years of denying feelings of want and desire. All those years of heavy guilt suddenly lifted from his shoulders just for him to have you under his bow again, your body quivering and voice shaky because of his touch.

It feels so surreal...But, God, Toji missed this so goddamn much. Missing your eyes, your smile, your touch, your body. Just you. Only you. "Hnnngh!! Damn, you feel so fuckin' good, baby. Can never have enough..."

"Mnnaaaah! Daddy, I'm gonna cummm, I'm gonna—Oooohh!!" The tip of his shaft scrapes the upper walls of your vagina, your brain pounding so hard to the point it hurts. "Pleaseee, let me cum, Daddyyy..."

He can tell you're close and senses your orgasm climbing up with his. That's when the pace of his hips goes erratically fast, jabbing your sweet spots and tender cervix, causing more tears to come down and your peak to finally release for the third time that night. As you cream on his cock, Toji's not too far from his own crescendo. Your velvety walls contract around his member divinely, and the older man spills his load into your quivering figure.

You're allowed to experience the aftershocks of your orgasm as you two let your bodies calm down, Toji laying his chest on your sweaty, heaving back. He then slowly removes his dick from your chasm, and the essence of your unioned sex feels cold while sliding down your inner thighs.

"Haaaaah...Mmmm, thank you, Toji." You whimper out as he lays kisses down your neck and shoulders. "Thank you..."

But little did you know that it wasn't the last of it. Before you could apprehend what was going on, Toji already had you flipped over to your back, stationing your legs on his shoulders to a mating press. And you see that his cock is not limp yet...

W-Wait a damn second—

"T-Toji, wait, hold on!" You try to rationalize with the man who aligns his shaft to your gushing vulva, and your sweat runs cold. "It's getting late. I just came three times already! We should—Nmmmph!!"

The head of his cock slides right in thanks to the slick and come lubricating your opening. Adding his weight onto you as he pushes his length deep into your chasm again, you cry choked sobs when he meets your cervix again, and his pelvis rubs against your clitoris. "Sorry, mama. Just lemme finish here, 'kay? Daddy missed havin' you like this, so I wanna give you all of me while I still can."

...who has your fatigued self lying on his chest, rubbing circles on your back and placing soft kisses on your forehead as you feel the effects of sleep slowly creep up on you. The lights are now off, the moonlight bargaining from the curtains being the only light source as you two are ready to gather whatever amount of sleep you can get.

"Hey, baby." But before that, Toji wants your attention for the last time before you sleep.

"Mhmm?" Your eyes are closed, but your ears are still open to listen.

His eyes drift down to the left hand that lays motionless on his chest. The gem on the ring flashes softly for it to be distinguishable. "How come you were wearin' your ring at the club?"

A few seconds go by before you give him the honest truth. "Same reason you wear yours. I always wear it when going out somewhere or alone someplace. Gives people the idea that I'm not ready for anyone else."

"Then why not wear it when I'm around?"

You giggle breathlessly. "Same reason why you don't let me see yours. I don't need a ring when I have you with me. A ring doesn't compare to my big man who will love and protect me wherever we go."

And Toji doesn't ask anything else after that. He lets you fall asleep in his arms and listens to your breathing follow a melodic rhythm. Your words stick with him even when his eyes close, and he soon falls into a deep sleep.

It's far-fetched to think that you two will be married again. Maybe it's possible in his dreams, but not in the real world. Regardless, Toji knows he will always stand beside you and be there for you. With or without a ring that's merely evidence of your love to outsiders. He knows you love him, and that's all he needs to keep moving. And if he could have you as his wife again, he'd sweep you off your feet in a heartbeat.

[morning-star-joy]

honey don't feed it, it will come back (Joel x F!Reader)

Pairing: Bodyguard!Joel x Sex Worker F!Reader

Summary: You run a brothel in the Boston QZ, devoting yourself to taking care of your girls. When the safety of one is threatened, you hire a bodyguard in the form of the surly Joel Miller to protect them. Little did you know that you were going to become his new favorite vice, and him your favorite addiction.

Warnings: MDNI Explicit Smut (oral f receiving, v fingering, Joel jacks off while going down on Reader, dirty talk, bit of a sir kink, bit of a brat tamer dynamic). Pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart). Alcohol/drug use. Sex work (Joel listens to Reader). Age gap (20 years). Mentions of physical assault (towards minor characters, never from Joel. Not stated to be sexual assault but it can be inferred as such, so please take care of yourselves).

Wordcount: 9.6k (how the fuck)

joel miller masterlist

The world was fucked to all hell and back, and so what did men do in those circumstances?

“Oh fuck,” your customer was grunting as he fucked into you from behind, your hands on the headboard as it rocked against the wall to keep yourself up, breathy moans expertly leaving your lips to spur them on, even if you hadn’t felt an inkling of desire in years.

Yeah.

They fucked.

Fight or flight were often referred to in the first years following the Outbreak, a default of survival instinct that most everybody resorted to in order to survive.

But fucking was the much less talked about, incredibly prevalent third option.

It became clear in the Quarantine Zones that there was a need to be filled here, a way to satisfy that urge in a way that wouldn’t cause a barely held-together society inside high walls to erupt into chaos.

From this need, brothels made an appearance. While FEDRA had nothing to do with the establishments officially, they turned a very convenient blind eye to the street corners where women trying to make some kind of a living in the QZ took up their stations, tempting any lonely man who may wander by into a night of needed release.

It was a dangerous profession, in its own way. Contraceptives were long expired twenty years after the society collapsed, and even if a client pulled out at the best time and you were keeping track of your cycle, there was always the risk of being put out of work for around 9 months if you were unlucky.

And then came the obsession.

Clients could become far too eager far too quickly, addicted to the touch and feeling of a certain girl, mistaking lust for affection and lurking around those street corners before the night even came or, worse, outside the brothel doors.

You’d experienced it first-hand and through other girls, but it wasn’t until one of the younger ones came to you with a black eye and bruised jaw that you had had enough.

“Who did it?” you said in a low tone, breathing deeply in and out through your nose as you tried to control yourself, reigning yourself back in from the need to grab the gun you kept tucked in the top drawer of your rickety old nightstand and find who the fuck had laid their hands on one of your girls in such a way.

After years of being in the business, you had gone from only taking clients to keeping a watchful eye over the other women who made the same living you did. Your glory days were mostly behind you, but you still had your reputation, even after the incident that left you with a jagged scar that stretched vertically across the right side of your face, from above your eyebrow, down across your eye to just below your cheekbone.

Those clients you did still have preferred to fuck you with you facing away from them now, but you weren’t complaining. Not seeing their ugly faces as they used you to cum helped you dissociate, focus your thoughts on how well you were going to eat the next few days because of a few minutes of sacrifice.

The young woman whose lip was trembling as you held her hands gently in yours now was hardly past her early twenties, a sweet young thing who you had taken under your wing when she confessed needing a way to get some extra ration cards for her little brother who had gotten sick recently.

You had snuck Isabel some of your own ration cards with each of her payments, not caring that you had a bit less to eat each night, especially when she had come to you a couple weeks later with a bright smile and the news that her brother’s health had improved.

Now that smile that could light up the whole goddamn QZ was nowhere to be seen, an abject horror darkening her gaze, making her angelic face gaunt as you reached up to gently hold it, tilting it so you could assess the extent of the damage.

Her eyes, a deep honeyed brown that had drawn in the most clients your brothel had seen in years, were avoiding yours as you searched for her gaze, and you gently directed her face back towards you, voice softer as you implored her, “Isabel. Please, talk to me, babygirl.”

A choked sob was the first sound to leave her mouth then at the sound of your genuine affection. The world may be fucked, but protecting these girls was your purpose. And the thought of not being enough to protect them, for one of them to come to you like this…

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you whispered as her petite form collapsed against yours, holding her close as you smoothed a hand over the tangles in her hair, gently combing them out with your fingers as your other hand rubbed at her back. “It’ll be okay, love. You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

Even as you assured her, a fear was creating pressure in the back of your mind, causing the first of many sleepless nights as you tried to figure out how to make sure this could never happen again.

You sat at your little makeshift desk in your tiny room on the top floor of the brothel, a cheap cigarette you had just gotten from a couple smugglers perched between your fingers as you slowly exhaled the smoke, staring down at your incoherent scribbled notes.

With a groan, you pushed yourself away from the desk, standing to cross over to the small window on the wall, gazing out in paranoia to make sure there were no dark shadows lingering nearby, waiting to get a hold of one of your girls if they didn’t want it.

Glancing back down at the lit cigarette, you pondered your few options.

FEDRA was not a viable source for protection. Yes, they turned a blind eye on your activities, but they would never risk their image by offering guards for your girls. Besides, you didn’t trust anybody in one of those uniforms within an inch of your life.

Fireflies weren’t a fucking option either. Those jackasses were so far up the proverbial ass of justice that they couldn’t see the actual struggles of the real people around them, subjecting them to be collateral in whatever useless statement they were making lately.

The cigarette was raised halfway to your lip when you paused, staring down at it as you suddenly had a small epiphany.

Who did you know that had not an ounce of a moral code, but a strong work ethic and determination to get the job done for a good deal that promised a stack of ration cards?

A smirk curled onto your lips then as you brought the cigarette back to them, placing it in your mouth as you took a long drag, exhaling it towards the window and watching it fog up the glass as you realized exactly who you were heading to.

“We don’t do protection,” your smuggling contact was saying, her voice as gruff and no-nonsense as always, and you sighed, meeting her sharp green eyes straight on as you shifted to cross your legs.

“Don’t bullshit me, Tess,” you said flatly back, your voice not harsh, but definitely firm, calling her out on her bluff even as you saw her ever-present guard dog shift a ways behind her at your tone. “You’ll do anything for a good trade. And I have that.”

“I don’t wanna fuck your girls,” Tess dismissed, waving her hand as if to brush the thought away, and you rolled your eyes, even as you couldn’t help a smirk, glancing at your associate with a small hint of mirth that matched her own.

“I’m not offering that,” you replied honestly, slowly drumming your fingers at the small table you were both seated at in one of the back alleys where these deals tended to go down. Public enough to avoid a shootout, but private enough to avoid FEDRA breathing down your backs. “My girls get paid for their work. So would you.”

Tess raised an eyebrow then, leaning in just a fraction, and you knew that you had captured just a fraction of her attention.

Good. You could work with that.

“What are we talking?” she asked in a low tone, voice still disinterested, gaze still closed off, but you knew that would change when you laid out the conditions of the deal.

When you did—offering a heft of ration cards (that they didn’t need to know was almost your entire cut of the brothel’s proceeds) for an able body to keep watch at your brothel during active business hours—Tess leaned back again, eyes flickering over your face as she processed the information.

“You know I’m good for it, Tess,” you implored, allowing a bit of emotion to creep into your tone now as you meet her gaze, hoping she would hear what you were asking for, woman to woman. “And these girls…they need it.”

She frowned then, sympathy flashing over her face as she glanced over yours, hearing what went unsaid.

Tess began to turn her head slightly over her shoulder, though she didn’t bother sparing a glance back as she called, “Joel.”

That was the first time you think you’d heard the name of her silent, watchful companion.

You knew that they were a package deal, but whenever you met with Tess, he lingered in the background, making sure you didn’t lay a hand on her.

Good, you thought to yourself, glancing over at him as he pushed himself off the wall and strolled over just at the unspoken order she gave for him to approach. If he’s who she has in mind, hopefully he does the same for the girls.

It was also the first time you really got a look at the man who Tess finally introduced you, explaining to the both of you how this was going to work at the same moment.

With those thick arms that could be around your neck as fast as you could blink, hardened dark eyes that were already measuring you up and calculating at least six ways to take you out before you could even open your mouth to say hello, you knew that just the sight of him in your brothel would strike fear into the depraved hearts of meeker, cowardly men.

He was older, too. Maybe had twenty years on you, and if somebody had lived that long in the apocalypse, they had to know how to get their hands fucking dirty if they needed to.

“I’ll take him,” you said back to Tess after appraising the man who would be your brothel’s bodyguard, your attention only pulled back to the hunk of muscles when you heard him scoff at your words. “There a problem?”

“I’m not a piece of meat,” he grunted, expression flat as he stared at you, and you arched an eyebrow, unamused by his comment that came right after you and Tess had agreed to the terms of the deal.

“Hate to break it to you, but a bodyguard is nothing but that,” you replied as you gracefully uncrossed your legs, rising to your feet as Tess collected their first payment from you off the table, pushing it into her front pocket as she rose from her own seat as well. “Muscle that can drop a man at a moment’s notice.”

You watched as Joel’s strong jaw ticked, your other eyebrow rising with the first as you stepped around the table, getting closer to the man than you probably should, watching as his tense shoulders bunched up even more around his ears when you approached. 

“And now, you’re my muscle, Mr. Miller,” you said in a perfectly conversational tone, a practiced smile pulling onto your lips as Joel glanced down at them briefly before looking back into your eyes, his gaze narrowing as you added, “Pleasure to be doing business with you.”

Spinning on your heel, you strolled away from the smugglers towards the exit to the alley, but not without saying back over your shoulder before you got too far, “First shift’s an hour after curfew. Don’t be late.”

There was the sound of low grumbling behind you, followed by the smooth low tones of Tess’ voice, and you didn’t know why you felt the urge to laugh at that moment.

You didn’t know why, because you hadn’t laughed in years.

But you brushed that feeling aside, heading back towards your establishment to ready your girls for the change that would be coming in their worlds tonight, hoping that it would give them the peace of mind you all so desperately needed.

Whether you would be able to relax all depended on if Joel Miller could actually do his job.

He could.

One of the very first nights Joel had taken up station in the main hallway in the brothel that led off to private rooms, he had proven his worth, and then some.

You had been down the staircase in an instant when you heard the loud crash, heart racing in your chest, breath quickened from panic as you rounded down to see what had caused the loud sound.

Some thumps and bumps were common in an establishment like yours, but that sounded very much like a body not only hitting the ground, but being thrown down onto it.

What you saw then was an image that etched itself deep into your brain for the rest of your days.

Joel, your brand new, stoic bodyguard who hardly gave so much as a grunt to you or any of the girls he was hired to protect, had a half-naked man pressed to the old floorboards, knee digging right into his back to pin him down, a large hand keeping a tight grip on his neck to stop him from moving.

But what got your attention even more than the struggling client who Joel was snarling at as he roughly kept them down, was the girl who was standing behind him, arms wrapped around herself and subconsciously shifting to stay behind the bodyguard, eyes wide and relieved at the sight of him catching the out of hand customer.

You walked towards the scene that had drawn spectators in the form of clients and workers alike, peeking their heads out into the hallway to watch as you slowly knelt down in front of where the bastard was pinned so roughly to the ground that you weren’t sure he could even breathe.

Good.

You glanced up at Joel then, meeting his hard gaze with one of your own, and you gestured with a jerk of your chin towards the staircase leading down and out of your establishment that he could throw them out.

After rising to your feet, you paused next to Joel, watching from the corner of your eye as he grabbed the man roughly, yanking them to their feet and halting in his task only when you briefly laid your hand on his shoulder.

“Let him know not to come back,” you muttered under your breath, sending a sidelong glance full of unspoken things towards Joel, a tiny smirk curling onto your lips as the whimper of fear from the sick bastard and your bodyguard’s short nod let you know you’d been heard.

You walked straight towards your girl who had nearly been treated in a way you would not tolerate towards any of your women, wrapping your arm around her shoulder and pulling her against you, letting her sink into your warmth as you addressed the rest of the brothel that everything was fine, to resume their activities while Joel shoved the guy down the stairs as they started to beg for mercy.

Luckily, there weren’t many similar incidents after that one, letting you know the investment into a well-abled bodyguard for your girls had been more than worth it.

Because more than the concrete evidence of their safety, it was the palpable shift in energy at the brothel that reassured you that you had made the right choice not only in having a bodyguard, but in who you hired.

Joel never really warmed up to anybody, but all the girls had certainly grown fond of him. There were more than a few crushes on the emotionally unavailable older man who stood like a statue in the halls, ranging from innocent love to lustful fantasies.

There were a handful of times one of your girls had offered their services to him, some even trying to get him into a room free of charge, but Joel turned down every one—interestingly enough, it was never without kindness. Each time a proposition was offered, the detached bodyguard would give a slight shake of his head, mumbling a “no thank you, ma’am” in that deep Southern drawl that soon made almost every girl in that building buckle at the knees.

The fondness your girls had for Joel Miller became ingrained in the way the brothel functioned, and you knew that you couldn’t get rid of him even if you wanted to, even if that meant continuing to share a large portion of your personal livelihood with him.

And maybe you were crazy, but you thought that maybe Joel had a bit of warmth in that tiny, shriveled up heart for your girls, too. Sometimes he’d eye a client up and down before giving the girl with them a respectful nod and a polite murmur of their name as a greeting, and you didn’t know why the familiarity of the stoic man warmed your own barbed wire heart, but it did.

Maybe it was because after all the shit they’d gone through to survive long enough to reach this point, they deserved to experience an ounce of genuine kindness from a man, without having to think about what they had to offer him.

Still, Joel irritated you. Any hint of kindness he had for your girls was never shown towards you, but you didn’t let it get to you. You were his employer, and the only times you ever really interacted with each other were the few short seconds it took him to head up the stairs to your office, collect his payment with you and leave.

Besides, you weren’t exactly the most gentle with him either.

You’d taken up a habit of poking fun at your bodyguard, a little teasing here and there about things like his face getting stuck if he never unfurrowed his brow, a comment that only made him scowl further, the sight pulling forward again that urge from deep within your bones to laugh.

But you never laughed, even as you smirked up at him before turning on your heel and going on about your work keeping the place running smoothly.

That work mainly involved management and finances, but when you began to realize you soon wouldn’t be able to keep supporting yourself with keeping Joel on as a bodyguard, you knew you’d have to start doing something a little extra.

Time to go back to your roots.

For all his time working at the brothel, Joel had never seen you take a client.

In fact, he could probably count on one hand the amount of times he had seen you in the hallways, only to check on a few of the girls from time to time.

But most of the time you were holed up in that small office upstairs, the one he entered for a minute or two at a time, long enough for you to gather his payment and give it to him so he could be out of your hair—or, more accurately, to get you out of his.

Because fuck, you were irritating. You knew exactly how to get on his nerves, and Joel suspected you actually enjoyed doing so, for whatever goddamned reason.

Still, the job paid well. He was living with a bit more comfort in the QZ than he ever had before with those cushy extra ration cards.

And besides, he was actually, maybe a little bit attached to the girls who worked these streets. They were kind, just making a living in the best way they could, and needed somebody to protect them.

Maybe there was also a part of Joel that needed somebody to protect.

He had to admit though, for all his aggravation towards your mere existence, Joel did respect you. You were the person who kept this place up and running, the one who looked after every need of each woman, the lady who had cared for them enough to search for a protector to keep them safe.

Joel had honestly assumed that you didn’t do sex work at all, just judging from how you were never in one of those rooms.

But tonight, you were walking up the staircase from the base floor instead of down from your office, drawing Joel’s attention and subsequent confusion when he saw what you were wearing.

Gone were the baggy jeans you usually wore around the brothel, replaced by thigh-highs that enveloped soft skin he had never seen before. There were just hints of lace at the top of the hosiery from where the tight black dress hugging your curves rode up with each step you took.

It had to have been one of the least scantily clad outfits he’d seen down these halls, but something about the sight of you wearing it caused a lump to form in Joel’s throat, an itch curling inside his veins that needed to be scratched when you turned your head back, offering a sly smile different from any you had sent him towards somebody behind you.

When you ascended to the top of the stairs, Joel saw the man following you, his back stiffening for more than one reason.

The first reason was that he knew this man. Not personally, but he had seen them around—on wanted posters, specifically. They were a higher up in the Fireflies, one who had their eyes on every covert deal around the city, a puppet master pulling the strings.

But it was clear now that you were pulling his, a coy batting of your cunning eyes tugging him after you down the hallway, your body turned slightly towards him in a way that accentuated every curve of your body in its side profile, illuminated in the lowlights of the hall.

When you passed by Joel, eyes meeting his as they shifted into something darker—not lustful, but with clear intent—he knew the other reason he had suddenly snapped to attention.

This man was your customer.

That look you had given Joel, it was an unspoken order to keep you safe in case anything went south with this considerably more…“exclusive” customer, for lack of a better term.

You didn’t spare another glance back as you moved to a door at the end of the hall, one Joel didn’t think he had ever seen another girl enter, slipping into the room as the man followed behind you, and the door quietly clicked shut.

Joel stared at the spot where you had just been in the hallway, feet frozen to the ground until he slowly stepped forward, moving down to lean against the wall next to the room you had entered, following your silent order to stay close and keep an eye out for trouble.

All his time working in a building full of the sounds and smell of sex at every moment, Joel had been unbothered. The moans, the grunts, the cries of “oh fuck” and “I’m coming!” that would echo through the halls, the overpowering scents of sweat and cum when a door next to him would open and a satisfied client would walk out—he couldn’t give less of a fuck. It neither bothered him, nor turned him on to any degree.

But at the very first soft, breathy moan of yours that drifted through the thin wall his back was pressed to, Joel’s breath was catching in his throat, entire body stiffening at the alluring sound.

A few seconds later, there was another moan, longer than the first, and Joel’s head tilted back, resting against the wall as his jaw clenched to the point where it was almost painful.

He didn’t care, he told himself.

Joel had never cared before, he didn’t care now.

But it had never been you before.

You, the stalwart image of the establishment, all business and no pleasure, putting every other person’s needs before your own.

So at the thought of you giving into pleasure now, satisfying your own needs as the sounds of slow, rhythmic squeaking of a bedframe carried towards him through the door, your whimpering echoing the steady echo of skin slapping against skin—

“Fuck,” Joel whispered under his breath, eyes fluttering shut at a particularly loud moan of yours that reached his ears that had tuned in through the walls, and he snapped his eyes back open, straightening back up and realizing with a quiet groan from the movement how painfully hard he had grown in his jeans at the sounds of you being fucked.

He reminded himself then that this was your job. There was no guarantee you derived any real pleasure from it—to think that you did was a delusional male fantasy, and made him no better than the rest.

But his dick wasn’t listening to logic, only growing harder in his pants with the more lewd sounds that you made, and Joel sucked in a deep breath, rubbing a large palm over his face and shaking his head to himself.

You were no different from the others.

Just another girl to protect.

Joel didn’t want you.

“Oh, god, yes!” you were gasping in between keening moans now, and Joel bit down hard on his lower lip, feeling the chapped skin break and bleed a bit as his hand twitched at his side, the urge to do something about the erection straining against his pants so incredibly strong.

He could do it. None of the other girls were close to finishing with their clients. Joel could pull his cock from his pants right now and fuck into his own hand as he listened to you having sex, get himself off from the sounds you were making, imagining he was thrusting into you instead of his palm as you—

“Yes,” you whimpered, the sounds of skin slapping against skin rapid now, the bedframe inside your room slamming against the wall as you repeated yourself louder and louder, higher and higher, “Yes, yes, yes!”

Then you were crying out at the same time your client did, and Joel grunted, hips bucking up into his palm at the same moment he realized his hand had drifted there, subconsciously seeking relief from the ache of burning desire before he snapped his hand away.

“Fuck,” he huffed, shaking his head sharply and cursing himself at how he had nearly jacked himself off at the sound of you having sex without even realizing what he was doing. “Get it the fuck together.”

But his erection hardly eased up even as the minutes passed, and Joel had to fold his hands together, trying to casually hold them in front of the obvious bulge constrained by his jeans when your door opened.

The client walked out first, and Joel stared straight ahead at the wall opposite him, jaw clenching painfully once more as the man walked down the hallway, glancing back to send you a wave as you leaned against the doorframe, bending forward out of it to wiggle your fingers back towards him in goodbye.

Joel’s eyes snapped from how relaxed the gait of the man now was before looking over at you, sucking in a sharp breath at the tattered silk robe you were wearing, seeing the dip of your collarbone down to the soft curves of your cleavage, nearly catching a glimpse of the tempting pillows of your tits from the way you were leaning forward before he forced his gaze away.

You were watching him now—he could feel the familiar intensity of your gaze on him, and Joel resisted the urge to swallow thickly, struggling against the lump in his throat as you pushed yourself off the doorframe.

He expected you to head back up towards your office, preparing himself to keep his gaze off you when you walked past him in that temptation of thin fabric, when you surprised him by speaking.

“Want a smoke?”

Joel froze, his head tilting towards the sound of your voice subconsciously before your words even dawned on him.

When they did, he glanced towards you from the corner of his eye, seeing you were watching him with a thumb pointing back over your shoulder towards the room behind you.

The room you had just fucked a client in.

Oh fuck.

Joel cleared his throat, brows furrowed deeply as he looked back at you, and he half-expected you to make a comment about it like usual, but you were simply watching him with an impassive look, not a hint of emotion or motive he could try to decipher.

Before he knew what he was doing, Joel nodded, feet automatically moving after yours when you walked into the room.

“You can close it,” you said over your shoulder as you walked towards a nightstand next to the bed where—

Joel spun around, trying to control how rapidly he was breathing as he grabbed the door handle, pulling it shut behind him before slowly turning back to face the room again.

He had never actually been in one of them before, but he still should have expected the smell to be so much stronger in one—especially right after it had been occupied.

Still, the scent of sex pulled his attention right back to the bed you stood next to as you perched a cigarette between your lips—one he thinks Tess got you, he realized somewhere in the back of his mind—and Joel’s eyes lingered on dark spots on the mattress, forgetting how to breathe for a moment before your voice brought him back.

“Mr. Miller?”

His head snapped forward, eyes meeting yours to see you looking at him in a question he didn’t know that you were asking.

“Huh?” he mumbled so eloquently, wincing internally as your lips twitched into a small smirk around the cigarette in your mouth before you pulled it out, blowing it into the heady air of the room, nicotine joining the smells of sex and making the space tighter, hotter, before you paced towards a window on one wall.

“I asked if you wanted one,” you said slowly, and Joel just then noticed how scratchy your voice was—from the cigarette, the moans you were making not that long before, or maybe both.

“Uh—no,” Joel shook his head, watching with bated breath as your smirk towards him grew. “No thank you.”

His heart skipped a beat in his chest as you beckoned with the cigarette held delicately between your fingers for him to join you at the window. 

Joel did, almost automatically, cursing himself internally at his blunt eagerness to be beside you while you lifted the window to let some fresh air in, and he turned, resting his back against the open window pane, arms crossing over his chest as he watched you instead of observing the room any longer.

Not all that fresh, considering the perpetual staleness of the QZ air, but it did cut down on how overwhelming the aroma of sex currently was in that room.

If somebody was going to break the tense silence that had fallen between the two of you, Joel had expected it to be you, so he was surprised when the quiet words fell from his lips, “Didn’t know you took clients.”

You huffed out a laugh then, the stream of cigarette smoke leaving your plump lips in puffs with the action.

“The Mistress has to earn her keep somehow,” you muttered, pulling in another drag of nicotine to blow back out the open window, and Joel’s gaze snapped back towards you.

“The Mistress?” he repeated, eyes flickering over your face as he recognized that name in an instant.

Being a man in the Boston QZ, it was impossible not to hear about The Mistress. An elusive sex worker who was very selective about her clientele, but even still, the stories about her stretched far, the name representing the countless fantasies of every horny man who dreamed of a chance to get their cock wet with her.

His recognition must have been noticeable in the tone of his voice, because you lazily rolled your head back to look up at him, smirk growing fully across your lips, swollen from whatever you had been up to, and Joel nearly swore under his breath as he felt his cock stirring in his jeans again.

“You act like you’ve heard of me,” you murmured, tongue darting out to wet your lips before you placed the cigarette between them again, and Joel’s brain short-circuited for a moment before he could find the words to reply to you.

“I just—” Joel cut off, brows furrowed as he shook his head, as if trying to jumpstart his mind, get it to string coherent thoughts together again but Jesus fuck why were you looking at him like that, with dark hooded eyes he’d never seen from you before. “I mean, I’ve heard about her, but I didn’t think—”

“Why not?” you interrupted him before he could finish. The cigarette was back between your fingers, gesturing with it up towards the scar that stretched down one side of your face. “Because of this?”

Joel frowned then because, to his own surprise, he was offended that you would think he’d care about such a thing. That he’d judge your attractiveness off something as inconsequential as a scar, especially in such a time where such marks on your skin were proof of hard-earned survival.

Attractiveness. 

No, no, oh, fuck.

“Just didn’t know it was you,” Joel muttered gruffly, shrugging in a way that he knew must have looked incredibly stupid as he turned his face away from you, only to see the mess of shabby sheets on the bed, and those same dark stains on the fabric.

“Oh, so you have heard of me,” you were nearly goddamn purring the words now, in the same moment his mind was recalling those sweet, sweet moans you were making, the ones that had left your lips and resulted in the cum stains he was now staring at. “What have you heard?”

“They say you have the ti—” Joel cuts himself off again, feeling blood rushing towards his cheeks and somewhere lower, somewhere he should not be feeling any heat as he realized what he was about to say without thinking.

That you have the tightest, hottest cunt you could get in the whole QZ.

“They say I…?” you trailed off as you quietly repeated his words, and Joel’s attention flashed back to you to see you drifting closer to him, one arm crossed over your chest to prop up your elbow as you smoked your cigarette.

The way your arm pressed to yourself pushed your cleavage together to make an alluring dip, lifting your tits so they were almost spilling out of the open collar of the silk robe. Although the fabric was faded and tattered from the years it had survived, it may as well have been the richest texture in the world with the way it caressed your soft skin, taunting Joel as he struggled to look away.

When you shifted just an inch closer, one of the sleeves of the robe tumbled down your shoulder, and Joel sucked in an audible breath as more of your body was revealed, tempting him with how bare you were under that flimsy fabric.

He tried to look back up towards your eyes then, he really did, but the sleeve slipping down to hook around your elbow nearly revealed half of your chest to him. The only thing keeping him from seeing one of your tits completely was the way your forearm was pressed against your nipple.

Was it a peak right now? Were you as aroused as he was? Did you need him like he needed you?

Joel finally pulled his eyes up to yours, and when he saw the smug, knowing look in the heat of them, his desire flared into a fever pitch.

“They say you make sex an art,” his voice rumbled out from deep within his chest, and Joel hardly recognized it with the way his every word was coated in a thick need. “That your body feels like heaven, and you taste even better.”

You laughed at that, head tilting back with the action, and Joel was as distracted at the gentle, husky cadence that left your soft lips—how soft exactly, he wondered—as he was focused on the curve of your exposed neck as it led his eyes down your collarbone to the valley of your breasts.

There was a thin layer of sweat there, he just realized, and he wanted to dip his tongue between the soft pillows of flesh, tasting and tracing you, when your words pulled him out of his fantasizing that was quickly spiraling out of control the longer he was in this sex-tainted room with you.

“Those men don’t know a single fucking thing about how I taste,” you muttered, not bitterly, but simply matter-of-fact as you gazed out the window towards the dark lit streets of the QZ, taking another long drag of the cigarette.

Joel’s brow lifted, glancing over your side profile, noticing the way the deep red lipstick you had been wearing was almost completely faded, smeared a little at the corner of your mouth and down your chin, and coupled with the confession you had just made, he struggled with a sudden surge of an emotion he couldn’t name—or didn't want to, as it would surely become dangerous if he dared to entertain it.

“Seriously?” Joel found himself saying, and you turned back to him, your own eyebrows arching at the odd tone of his voice—almost appalled, but not towards you. “None of them?”

Your lips pulled back then, showing teeth in a grin that was nearly predatory, and Joel’s pulse raced as you answered with your own question, “You really think any man still alive wants to pay to go down on a woman?”

“I would,” Joel said in a heartbeat, and you blinked, surprise flashing through your eyes, and Joel hated the way his stomach flipped at the knowledge of catching you off-guard, as you were usually the one doing so to him.

“You’d pay for sex,” you repeated slowly, and although it was a question, you said it in a flat tone, disbelieving as you glanced up and down his body. “You. Mr. ‘I hate everybody and wish they were all fucking dead’ Miller?”

What surprised him the most out of everything tonight was the way you just made him laugh.

The sound was pulled from him so easily, tugged from his lungs towards you, and he sucked in a breath, as if trying to pull the sound back in as a dark look twinkled in your eyes from where they had fixed on the front of his jeans.

“Maybe you would pay for it, Mr. Miller,” you murmured, and Joel stiffened, his mind filling with a variety of curses in every language he still knew as you surely noticed his erection that still hadn’t fucking gone away.

Your eyes flashed back up to his, long eyelashes fluttering as you leaned forward, and Joel struggled to breathe as the forearm still covering the nipple of your almost completely revealed breast grazed against his chest.

“How would you prefer to take me, sir?” you asked breathily, and Joel’s chest began to rise and fall rapidly, brushing with your own nearly exposed chest with every fast breath he took as he tried to reign himself in, even as you started fucking seducing him. “Are you a fan of foreplay? Would you take your time and go slow with me?”

Your head tilts oh so slightly, hair tumbling down in a way that begged Joel to wrap it around his fist, as you continued to mercilessly tease, “No, I don’t think you’re one for taking it slow. Are you, Mr. Miller?”

Fuck, if you kept calling him that, he was going to lose his goddamn mind and take you right against that window sill if you would let him. He’d pay you all the fucking food rations in the world for a taste, just a taste of how sweet you’d drip for him when you came.

Because if Joel was fucking you, you were going to come.

“You like it hard and fast,” you whispered, your arm finally dropping from your chest, and Joel swallowed down a strangled sound as he finally saw half of your chest completely, your nipple hardened in the air before you pressed it against him and fuck, oh Jesus fuck, “I bet you’re rough too. Big man like you, you like to be in control. Probably gets off on taming brats, hm?”

Goddammit if you didn’t shut up he was about to show you just how well he could tame you, shutting up that pretty mouth by making you come again, again, and again, until all you knew to do was cry out for him every time he wracked your body with pleasure.

“But you’re not a missionary man,” you shook your head as it tilted the other way, bringing your face to hover inches away from his neck, and Joel shivered, actually fucking shivered when he felt your breath caress his skin as you teased, “You like a cowgirl, don’t you, Joel?”

That was the first time his name fell from your lips.

And at the sound of it, Joel lost any ounce of self-control.

His hands were on you in an instant, enveloping your waist in his large palms as he pulled you flush against him at the same moment he turned to push you against the wall.

You gasped, the dwindling cigarette falling from your fingers, and Joel lifted a foot to stomp it out, using his knee to nudge your legs apart with the motion. When his hips nudged against yours, erection pressing against the spot between your open thighs, he moaned at the feeling of your heat against the impossibly tight fabric.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized the robe you wore was completely open now, and your exposed cunt was pressed right up against his clothed erection, but his entire mind was focused on the way you also moaned at the same time he did.

“You keep running your mouth like that, I’ll show you how fucking good I can tame a brat,” he growled into your ear, one of his hands easily lifting your hip, dragging your folds across the bulge in his jeans, and he sighed as he felt wetness seep against the fabric. “Fuck, you this wet for me already, baby? Just from talking about how I’d fuck you?”

“I-I–”

Suddenly, no words were falling from your lips other than incoherent stuttering, and Joel smirked as he ducked his face against your neck, licking a path along the curve of it, groaning in need and irritation at the salt of sweat from your previous sex that still clung to it.

“Did you come for him?” Joel growled the question against your jaw, now directing your hips to grind against him in a way that put pressure to your clit, his eyes fluttering shut at the soft moan that left your lips—it sounded different than the ones he heard you make before, quieter, a bit huskier as opposed to so high-pitched—before he nipped at the skin just below your chin. “Answer me.”

“No,” you gasped, and Joel loosened his grip on your waist just a bit, wanting to see if you still chased that friction he had been providing against your clit.

When you did, grinding yourself against his clothed erection, Joel smirked against your jaw before asking his next question, “When’s the last time a man made you come, sweetheart?”

A shuddering breath fell from your lips to fan across his face, and Joel pulled back, looking down at how blown-wide your pupils were, his thumb brushing a strand of hair from your face as you muttered, “I—long. Too long.”

Joel wanted to smile at how you were already struggling to form full sentences before he had even started with you, but the anger he felt at you going so long without feeling an ounce of pleasure from being with a man made his jaw tick as he frowned deeply instead.

“Do you wanna come tonight, darlin’?” Joel murmured, his calloused thumb finding your bottom lip to gently pull it out, caressing the wet inner part of your lip while he searched your gaze. “I need you to answer me, sweetheart. I’m not doing anything unless you want me to.”

“Yes, Joel,” your voice nearly broke with the husky whisper, head bobbing in an eager nod, but Joel still waited to hear you say it clearly before he began. “I want you. Want you to make me come, please.”

A shuddering breath left Joel then, and he returned your nod, brushing his thumb across your lip again before pulling it back and leaning down to replace the digit with his own lips.

You were both moaning from the first moment your lips touched, kissing in a way that was much like how you always acted around each other—a battle for dominance, adding gasoline to the fire, but with an underlying respect that neither of you could shake even if you wanted to try.

“Fuck,” Joel mumbled when you allowed him access to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring every inch of it with a quiet moan that you echoed with your own. “Taste so good already, sweetheart.”

Every time he tried to pull away, you brought him back in with your lips chasing his, trapping him in another hot kiss, passion he didn’t think he could ever feel again building between you until he needed to taste more.

Joel finally tore himself away from your mouth fully, hands finding the opening of your robe to make sure it was pushed open completely, giving him access to every inch of your soft skin as he pressed kisses down your neck towards the perfect, perky tits that had been taunting him since you leaned out into the hallway.

His large palms cupped them, fingers stroking the soft flesh as he pressed them around his face, groaning into your skin at the feeling of being surrounded by them before turning his face to lap a path up the curve of one with his tongue until he reached that goddamn nipple that had been pure torture to nearly catch a glimpse of during your entire conversation.

Joel flicked his tongue over it, hips nearly bucking up as you gasped at the sensation, back arching to press further against his tongue when he flattened it against the stiffened peak. When he sucked it into his hot mouth, your fingers found his hair, tangling in the strands as you pushed his face further against you, and he moaned through a mouth full of your breast, teeth grazing against the sensitive peak before he pulled back to quickly do the same to the other.

Despite your teasing, he would take his time with you eventually. But tonight he was desperate, a drowning man gasping for air—but no, even that wasn’t accurate.

You were not the air Joel needed, but rather the unfathomable depths that he was drowning in.

He dropped to his knees between your spread legs, grunting quietly at the pain that ricocheted through his old bones at the action, but he couldn’t care less as he found himself facing your hot, dripping cunt.

Joel leaned forward, letting his breath fan across your sensitive folds as he lifted two fingers to run across your wet entrance, dragging the digits up to where you clit was already swollen with the need to be touched, to be pleased by him, and he smiled to himself at the sigh you exhaled above him from the sensation of his touch.

His fingers slid back to your entrance, dipping the rough pads of his fingertips into you just enough to collect more of your desire, spreading it along the lengths of his thick fingers as he swiped them up to your clit and began to rub in slow, tight circles.

You gasped quietly, hips rolling into his gentle ministrations, and Joel smiled against your skin when he ducked his face forward to press soft kisses along your inner thigh and up.

“Gonna take care of you, darlin’, don’t you worry,” Joel murmured against the mound of trimmed hair above where his fingers were slowly working at you, his lips moving down to replace them as he added breathlessly, “Gonna make you feel so good.”

Your hips bucked against his face when his tongue found your clit, a louder, breathless moan tearing from your throat at the heady sensation of his hot, wet mouth sucking around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Joel,” you gasped, nails scraping against his scalp as you grabbed his hair tighter, and he groaned around your clit at the feeling, pulling a delicious whine that sounded so much more real, more feral, more needy than the perfect, practiced ones you had made through the wall. “I—oh, fuck, that’s so good…”

He hummed around your clit before flattening his tongue against it, alternating motions until he found the rhythm that made you grind yourself against his face, and his palms found your hips to pull you up against him further, encouraging you to ride his tongue until you found your high.

“Come on, baby,” he murmured in between the moments when he’d suckle your clit, teeth gently grazing it as he resisted the urge to palm himself at the steady stream of moans and muffled curses that were echoing above him. “You can do it, come on. Soak my face, wanna taste your sweet cum.”

When you did just as he told you, Joel thought he really did see the gates of heaven, a sight he was convinced would never grace him after the lifetime of hell he had lived and caused.

He lapped up every gush of wetness that dripped from your folds in your release, dipping his tongue inside your entrance to drink you up, his thumb replacing his tongue on your clit, rubbing gently to prolong the waves of your pleasure.

Once the gyrations of your hips against his lapping tongue slowed, Joel pulled back from your cunt, your release glistening on his mouth and down his chin as he gazed up at your slack-jawed expression.

Your head tilted down, gaze meeting his as a lazy smile curled onto your lips, and Joel tried to ignore the way his heart lurched in his chest at the sight combined with the feeling of your grip loosening on his hair, fingers combing gently through the strands.

“Good?” Joel mumbled, turning his face to press a soft kiss on your inner thigh, and your head dipped down in a nod, humming in satisfaction as Joel smirked against your skin. “Good.”

His mouth opened, teeth gently nipping at your soft flesh, pulling an endearing squeak of surprise from you as he rasped, “Not done with you yet, though, sweetheart.”

When his tongue found its way back to your clit, his fingers went back to your entrance. This time, when he dipped one fingertip in, he didn’t stop, sinking into your tight, wet heat until the first knuckle, smiling against your swollen bundle of nerves as you rolled your hips into him at the sensation of his digit slowly filling you.

He gave a few slow pumps of his finger when he had sunk it in completely before pulling it out, chuckling around where he had sucked your clit back into his mouth at your whine at the loss of his finger before he added it back in with another.

“Fuck, can you feel you squeezing my fingers, darlin’,” Joel grunted against your cunt, lapping desperate licks against your clit, eating you out with increased fervor as his fingers pumped you faster at every mewling moan that left your lips, encouraged by the rolling of your hips to curl his fingers until he found the spot that nearly made your knees buckle.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, giving you support to stand while keeping you pressed to his face, not allowing you a moment of peace as his tongue worked mercilessly at you until you were coming around his fingers this time.

“Oh, fuck,” Joel was whimpering against your cunt this time as he continued to fingerfuck you through your high, sucking at your clit and drawing out every aftershock, his arm around your waist the only thing keeping you up now as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

“Joel,” you whispered hoarsely, fingers tugging at his hair again, and he pulled back to look up at you, his fingers stilling inside your cunt, but not sliding out of you just yet.

“What is it, darlin’?” he rasped, breath trembling as you stroked his lips with your thumb, collecting your own release combined with his saliva on it before raising it to your mouth to suck on, pulling a moan from Joel’s throat at the sight.

“Want you to touch yourself, sir,” you murmured, and Joel’s eyes widened, his fingers finally slipping out of your heat, reaching down to fumble with the button of his jeans at your permission he didn’t even know he was desperate for. “Make yourself cum just from the taste of me.”

“Jesus—” Joel couldn’t even finish whatever he was going to groan out as his hand wrapped around his cock once he pulled it out of its fabric constraints, eyes rolling back into his head at the relief of finally, finally doing something about the erection that had plagued him since he guarded you outside the room while you worked.

“Mouth on my pussy, Joel,” you ordered, and he was diving back into your folds without a second thought, sloppily thrusting his tongue inside your wet heat as his hand pumped his cock, your release still coating his fingers spreading across his length as he felt himself already rapidly approaching climax. “That’s it. You like the taste? You wanna come because I taste so good?”

Joel was nodding against your pussy, groaning into your folds as he lost any rhythm towards making you feel good now, but you didn’t seem to care, your hand in his hair still keeping him pressed to your cunt as you encouraged him this time around, “Do it then, Joel. I want to watch you cum for me.”

If you said anything else at that point, Joel couldn’t hear it through the blood rushing through his head as he came harder than he had in years.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he had felt an orgasm so intense, his vision darkening at the edges as he sucked mindlessly at your wet folds, hips bucking up into his fist as his cum shot out to paint the wall behind you before leaking out steadily over his hand.

You loosened your grip on his hair, allowing him to pull back with a gasp, sucking in air he needed to not black out as Joel’s blurry vision focused back in on your face above him.

There was a small smile on your face, satisfied in more ways than one, and Joel couldn’t help but match it with his own half-smirk as he focused on catching his breath before slowly pushing himself back up to his feet.

“Mm,” Joel moaned quietly as his lips met yours in a lazy kiss, one he wasn’t sure who initiated as he mumbled against your mouth, “Heavenly.”

You laughed then, and he felt himself brighten at the sound, though he tried to ignore it as you gently pushed him away from you.

“Come on,” you sighed, straying away from the wall towards the door on shaky legs while you tied your robe back up, making yourself decent enough as he tucked his dick away and zipped up his jeans. “I’ll get you your payment for today.”

There was a brief moment where you made sure nobody was lingering in the hallway before beckoning him out, and you both made your way towards the staircase towards your office while Joel tried to ignore the foreign thrill at the chance of being caught with you after what you had done together.

When you passed his payment to him, he counted out a generous portion before holding it right back out, earning a scoff from you at the offer.

“You’re not paying me for making me come, Mr. Miller,” you said with a sly smirk, and Joel tried to ignore how oddly disappointing it felt for you to resort to calling him that after tonight. “That wasn’t work.”

Joel slowly arched his brow, but nodded at your insistence, tucking his payment in his back pocket before rumbling out a quiet question of, “One-time thing?”

It wasn’t an offer, nor was he insisting that you did or didn’t do it again.

In fact, he was secretly hoping it would happen again, and Joel felt the treacherous anticipation for even more of you when your exhilarated gaze met his.

“Guess we’ll have to find out.”

taglist: @darkroastjoel @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @dinsdjrn @cavillscurls @tightjeansjavi @sinsofsummers

[sayoneee]

☆ AND I KNOW IT’S OVER (STILL I CLING)

percy jackson, who never seems to know when to quit, keeps coming back. (2.9k)

contains: percy jackson x daughter of minor god! reader. post tlo (alt universe - everyone lives). book percy descriptions. apollo (derogatory).

kashaf’s note: book percy descriptions bc that was my first love. (sry if i get some of the words wrong, english isnt my first language pls be patient!!)

SUMMER BURNS. at camp half-blood, the scorching heat has dwindled to soft caresses, from the heat of the fire during sing-alongs where your cabin joins hands and toasts marshmallows to the cool breeze balming the sun’s glare at its zenith in the sprawling strawberry fields. at home, the scorching heat leaves marks — the biker with flames for pupils who clutched an openly bleeding wound as he thrust a first-aid kit at you, and the girl not much older than yourself with tears marring her face as she handed you a pregnancy test to ring up, avoiding your curious (sympathetic) gaze.

however, despite it all — you stand infallible, much like your grandfather’s part convenience store and part pharmacy, a poor man’s family heirloom.

you stand idly, flipping through an edition of seventeen when the rusty door swings open to admit a familiar face — with unruly black hair and an equally reckless grin (you know exactly who it is from the ba-dum of your heartbeat), the infamous son of poseidon (with the same smile as shawn hunter from boy meets world) is easily recognizable.

you glance at the crimson blooming around the crevices of his knuckles, tightly gripping a faded and worn-out skateboard, his scruffy converse squeaking across the tiled floor, raising an eyebrow as you coolly say, “band-aids are in the back, on the right.”

jackson laughs, an all-consuming sound (the wind-blown half-blood hill where apollo seemed to smile down at you, the laughter, like the memory, evanescent), “thanks, doc.”

you discreetly watch him perusing the aisles, before stopping in front of the ancient fridge — your grandfather’s store was something of an 80s pompeii with the peeling posters of back to the future and motley crue and the antiquated maroon and cream color scheme — and pulling out an arizona green tea.

when he finally goes to look for band-aids, you attempt to fix your attention back on the magazine in your hands, but like a moth driven to a flame, percy jackson was unbelievably hard to look away from (a magnet among mortals and immortals alike). 

jackson’s hands are on his hips, his tupac t-shirt creasing, thick brows furrowed as he decides between different types of candy with the same intensity as a single mother with two children and a nine-to-five (even in the mortal world, there is something else entirely about him, something that made it so that you could never truly write him off).

when he approaches the register again, it’s hard not to look up and watch his ascent. when he finally does come to a stop in front of you, he looks the same as he did the last summer, though the tiny silver trident earring is new, the camp beads resting peacefully atop his collarbones aren’t.

you ring up his items: a box of band-aids, the arizona green tea, and a pack of blue gummy sharks, looking away from him all the while.

“good to see ya, doc,” jackson says, a wry grin on his face, and his eyes are so green — as green as they were at twelve.

“it’s never good to see you, jackson,” you snark back, reciting his total, “four ninety-five, by the way.”

he laughs again (your heart goes ba-dum again), and hands you a five dollar bill, shoving his things into the seemingly bottomless pockets of his baggy jeans, with a salute on his way out (his turning back was a sight far more innocuous than the last time).

the next time jackson breaks whatever tacit agreement lies between the two of you, your hands are similarly stained. reds and purples line your palms, much like the burgundy seemingly permanently staining your grandmother’s fingertips; the culprit (the bowl of pomegranate seeds) sits innocently beside you. 

“back again?” you say, glancing at the familiar scarlet stains adorning jackson’s hands (a familiar blue friendship bracelet sits on his wrist, edges frayed with five years of wear, and there’s a lump in your throat). 

“why, did you miss me?” jackson asks, again with that wry grin of his, skateboard in hand. 

“you’re the one who came back,” you say, crossing your arms across your chest, willing the constricting feeling to disappear.

“doc, i’m sorry to have to be the one that has to break this to you,” he sighs sympathetically, putting a bleeding hand over his heart, “but the sun doesn’t revolve around you.”

“actually, jackson, the sun kind of does revolve around me, ‘cause y’know apollo, the sun god apollo? my grandpa apollo? my grandpa, the sun god, apollo?” 

“going by your logic, that would mean time revolves around me, ‘cause y’know kronos, the time titan kronos? my grandpa kronos? my grandpa, the time titan, kronos?” jackson says, a shit-eating grin on his face as he sets down another band-aid box, an arizona green tea, and a pack of blue gummy sharks on the counter.

“y’know, if you cared this much, you might’ve passed greek,” you say, referring to the progress report cards you were handed at the end of summer.

he shrugged, handing you another five dollar bill, and proceeding to shove everything into his black holes of jean pockets, “yeah, well — wait, are those pomegranates?”

“yeah,” you say, “i peeled them myself — do you want some?” 

(your father liked these, your grandmother had said earlier this afternoon, your mother liked to peel them for him, as i peeled them for her, and your grandfather.)

jackson suddenly looked bashful, fidgeting with the hem of his a tribe called quest t-shirt, “i’ve never had pomegranates before,” he confessed.

you blinked, taken aback, “you’re seventeen years old and you’ve never eaten a pomegranate before?” you pushed the china bowl toward him, “now you have to eat it.”

“my mom liked telling me the myths when i was younger,” he begins, setting down his skateboard, and reaching for the spoon before halting, like he was shocked, “she told me about persephone —”

“jackson,” you say, sardonically, leaning over the register to look him in the eye (there was always a storm brewing in his eyes), “i promise you, hades won’t come out of the ground and drag you to the underworld if you eat the pomegranate seeds i peeled.”

“i know what my next sleep paralysis demon is gonna be — thanks to you,” jackson says, looking down at the bowl and its floral blue pattern around the edges, playing with the spoon, and shifting the seeds from side to side.

“percy jackson, i swear to asclepius, you’re missing out on pomegranates,” you say, coming out from behind the register, and looking percy in the eye again, and there is something so earnest, so raw about your next sentence that his breath catches, “and, i swear on the styx, if hades does somehow come out of the ground to drag you down to the underworld, i’ll come down myself to drag you out, even if it’s tartarus.”

a rumble of thunder can be heard overhead despite the clear sky and scalding sun; percy blinks, before breaking out into a slow grin (your stomach seems to grow wings of its own, on the verge of flight.)

“invoking your dad, huh, doc? these pomegranates must be serious,” percy says, finally taking a bite — stepping around the bomb you just dropped.

you watch him intently, studying him as you studied tennyson and homer, “they are that serious.” there is something innocent about the way he eats, starved like every other teenage boy with black holes for stomachs. 

“y’know, i can put that into a tupperware container and you can take it with you, right?” you offer. 

“really?” percy asks through a mouthful of seeds, looking up from the bowl at you, “won’t you think i’ll steal it or something?”

“not really,” you shrugged, “i trust ms. jackson.”

percy nods solemnly — sally jackson is sally jackson after all, a queen among women, and an achilles of sorts, with her soft smile and steely eyes. 

steeling your nerves, this is already the longest conversation you’ve had (ignoring the forever-ago late-night debriefs under a firmament of stars), you step up to the plate and take a swing, “how is she, by the way, haven’t seen her in a while.”

percy swallowed, eyebrows furrowing, “great — oh, wait, did i tell you she was seeing someone new now?”

“no way, really? good for her, honestly. i know, poseidon’s a god and all, but like, she’s always deserved just, so much more.” (you manage to make contact with the change-up thrown your way.)

there is something so sincere about your words, that percy can’t help but grin back, finally reaching the depths of his sea-green eyes, and there is something still so boyish about him, that you can hardly believe any time has passed at all, and that somewhere within this demigod who successfully defeated kronos, while saving luke, there is still a semblance of your percy. 

“yeah, the guy, paul blofis, he’s an english teacher — absolutely worships the ground she walks on.”

“sounds perfect for her.”

“you should come over some time — see her, meet paul, y’know,” percy offers, still funneling spoonfuls of pomegranates, meeting your gaze head-on (this is the home run you were waiting on).

you grinned, a slow smile overtaking your face, pushing your hands in the pockets of your jeans, “might just take you up on that, before you change your mind.” (you’re leaving the ball in his hands now; it’s up to him to tag you out or let you reach home base safely.)

“nah, i won’t change my mind, unlike someone else i know.”

you ignore the jab (a smaller, suppressed part of you itches to shoot a reply back), instead choosing to focus on the hesitant hand of friendship being offered — as your father liked to say, keep moving forward.

you shrugged, and you swear, for a second you think the intensity of his gaze has lessened, almost as if disappointed. almost as if mentally shaking it off, percy hands you the china bowl back, empty, running a hand through his shaggy hair with a sheepish grin.

you smiled wryly, glancing down at the bowl and back to his face. “fatass,” you say, affectionately, and then almost freezing, wondering if you somehow overstepped the invisible lines constricting you. 

percy laughs — a green light. 

“lucky for you, though,” you say, disappearing behind the register for a moment before reappearing with a tupperware container filled with peeled pomegranates, “i peeled more.”

you hold it out to him, and he glances down at your outstretched hand, then at your face, before seemingly making up his mind, and accepting the olive branch, “you’re really committed to seeing my mom, huh?”

“well, obviously — the other alternative would be seeing you, wouldn’t it?”

“aw, c’mon, doc, i know you missed me,” percy says, a bit smug, picking up his skateboard, the tupperware container in his other hand (the one he still wears your bracelet on).

“in your dreams, jackson.” there is a peal of odd laughter in your voice as if you were unused to this kind of jocularity when fumbling over his name.

“in my dreams, we do more than just argue,” percy says, with one last smug smile and salute, before walking out the door, leaving you behind in the worst state of confusion you’ve possibly suffered (percy jackson: 1, you: 0).

(your grandmother admonishes you later that evening as you stand beside her stooped figure at your kitchen counter, peeling pomegranates, you gave the rest of it to that boy, didn’t you? her voice is not scolding, but you feel like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar once more. your immortal grandfather, the nuisance that he is, stands in the doorway, hands in an 80s leather jacket and matching sunglasses, waiting to be welcomed in. in contrast, his son — your father — brushes past him, grumbling, and takes on your grandmother’s burden.)

the analog clock reads ten fifty-five as you start mopping the floor, yawning when the front door swings open with a jingling bell, and a sharp metallic smell wafts into the store.

you whirl around, gripping the mop in your hand as a baseball bat, immediately alert as your demigod reflexes come into play. you physically relax at the sight of percy clutching his side, crimson pooling on the edges of his white t-shirt. 

“of course you would attack a man when he’s injured,” percy says with a grin, blood dripping from a gash over his eye (luke had returned to camp some years ago, with a similar scar), and a split lip, collecting like rust on his t-shirt collar. 

you scowled, dropping the mop and immediately rushing toward him, your healing instincts kicking in. lifting one of his arms and letting it curl around you, you shouldered him to the register, cringing with every audible wince percy let out.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked, as you sat him on your stool, reaching for the ambrosia and nectar you kept hidden under the counter for emergencies (one could never be too careful).

percy grinned — it came out more of a grimace, “what isn’t wrong with me — that’s the question you should be asking, doc.” he nodded to himself, and then immediately cringed at the action.

you glared at him, shoving an ambrosia square in his mouth, before turning away from him to put antiseptic on cotton pads. “does ms. jackson know you’re here?”

“no?” percy says. you walk over to the fridge, grab a water bottle, unscrew the cap, and drench the part of his t-shirt covered in blood.

“ow? in case you forgot, i’m still injured here, doc?” percy clutches at his side.

“you dumbfuck, your mom is probably worried out of her mind right now,” you say, scowling, stepping closer to percy (he still towers over you, even when sitting down).

“i iris messaged her,” he shrugs, looking at you as you shift even closer to him, cotton pad in your hand, “she just knows i’m with you — pretty relieved at that, dunno why.”

reaching out to grasp his jaw in your hand, you begin dabbing at the bruises on his cheekbones, his eyes fluttering shut as you try to ignore the way his hot breath is fanning across your face right now. “you didn’t tell her what happened?”

percy opened his eyes, staring at you. “no, how could i?” he says, slowly, “you were her favorite — still are, by the way.”

you don’t say anything for a moment — after all, how could you? (sally jackson’s homemade cookies drift to the front of your treacherous mind — the sunny afternoons with her kind voice, and percy’s loutish laughter.)

“you didn’t come to see her,” percy says, the statement not accusatory, his eyes fluttering shut again (you try not to let the way his eyelashes sit so prettily distract you) as you dab at the gash over his eye.

“i didn’t think i was welcome,” you say gruffly, turning away to grab bandages. “after everything.”

while the deeper wounds have eased into far easier, superficial ones, you still make sure to wrap and bandage everything — percy had a penchant for getting into trouble (one that you knew all too well), so it was the least you could do.

“i just told you that you were welcome, last time i was here, didn’t i?” percy says, an accusation.

“yeah, well, it was hardly an invitation was it?” you say, turning away from him, packing your supplies up. 

“doc, you didn’t even come to take your tupperware back.”

you ignore him, moving to walk away when his hand is enclosed around your wrist (the hand that wears your blue friendship bracelet), tugging you around to face him. 

percy’s standing up now, his green eyes looking more like a swirling storm with each passing second — he still hasn’t let your wrist go.

“what do you want from me?” you ask, trying to snatch your hand back from him, to no avail — his grip is ironclad.

“i can’t let you walk away with your back turned to me again,” he says (the dim, lantern-lit night comes back into focus, and you wonder if you were too consumed by your own pride, if you had just turned around, if you had just stayed).

you realize too late that tears are pricking in the corners of your eyes, and you manage to successfully wrench your hand out of his grasp, a watery, sarcastic laugh escaping, “you’re a couple years too late, asshole.”

“i know that,” percy says, earnest, reaching out to cup your cheek, and wipe a stray tear (the action stuns you into paralysis), “but i miss you, and my mom misses you, and she hasn’t gotten off my case about you, yet.”

the thought of tender-hearted sally jackson scolding percy is an amusing one, and draws a laugh out of you against your will (percy’s smile grows a little brighter, and asclepius knows you’ve never been able to resist that smile of his), “i’ll come over for ms. jackson, not you.”

percy’s smile is even wider now (his hand is still ghosting your cheek), “same thing.”

“shut up,” you say swatting at his shoulder, trying to duck out from under his arms. 

percy avoids your attempts to escape him, instead latching onto your hand, and pulling you out of the store. “c’mon, she’s expecting us for dinner.”

you let out an incredulous laugh, and let yourself be dragged out anyway (you would follow this boy anywhere, even to the depths of tartarus). 

(your grandmother watches from the apartment window above the store, a soft smile gracing her lined features.)

[glitterquadricorn]

spilled tea and hot gossip - f1 grid

+summary: there's nothing she loves more than spilled tea and hot gossip. +pairing: f1 grid x female!driver +warnings: cheating, mentions pregnancy, gossip.

a/n: this is just an idea that popped into my head.

I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.

Any drama, gossip, or tea that is spilled on a formula one paddock, you best believe she's going to know about it because she's got eyes and ears everywhere. Like for example, the whole situation with Oscar, Daniel and Mclaren. Or how Fernando signed with Aston Martin and didn't tell anyone much less Alpine. Pierre wonders where, or who she's getting this information from, but she'd never reveal her source for they wish to remain anonymous.

"Thanks so much for helping, y/n. You've made our job a lot easier," Jon, a member of her pit crew, smiled and tapped her shoulder.

"I'm always happy to help!" she said. " Do you guys need anything else? If not, I'm going to head out."

"We should be all good to go. Again, thanks for the help."

"You guys have a good day!" she left out the back of the garage and walked down a relatively empty paddock with the exception of other teams' staff here and there.

She was almost at the entrance when from the corner of her eye; she spotted a man wearing a black and red Haas shirt. Whoever he was talking to she didn't know, and it wasn't her business. But what he told to said person on the phone shocked her.

"I messed up, man. I shouldn't have even slept with her," the man paused, running his hand down his face. "Oh, the girlfriend of a mechanic over at Alpha Tauri. But that's not even the worst part of it. She's pregnant and doesn't know who the father is."

The sound that came out of her mouth wasn't human, and she quickly had to pretend she saw something shocking on her phone because the man looked in her direction. Man, she couldn't wait to tell the boys.

The following day after scanning her id, she strutted down the paddock like a woman on a mission.

Spotting the dutchman, who conveniently was standing with Daniel, Charles and Pierre outside the redbull garage, she excitedly walked right over. "You'll never guess what I heard yesterday."

"Judging by your excitement, I assume it's something juicy." Pierre replied. Just by the excitement alone, he knew that whatever she was about to say was going to be good.

"Yesterday, I stayed back after qualifying to help my pit crew clean up and put things away. When I was done, I left and walked down a relatively empty paddock, but stopped when I overheard somebody from Haas talking on the phone. I don't know who he was talking to, because it's not relevant, but what is, is what he told them."

"Get to the point, y/n."

"I was getting there, Max," she paused. "He told them he slept with a girlfriend of a mechanic over at Alpha Tauri. That alone is pretty juicy, but what he followed it up with had my jaw on the floor. And he followed it up with and she's pregnant and doesn't know who the father is."

Gasps leave their mouth as their jaws drop just like hers did from the day before. Behind Charles, her pr manager, Tracy, waved her over.

"Enjoy the tea, boys." she smirked, patted Charles on the shoulder as she walked away.

---

I know Visa Cash App RB team name isn't Alpha Tauri anymore, but I hate the name Visa Cash App RB with a passion.

tagging:

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @patzammit @tinycyber @keenmarvellover @mrspeacem1nusone @lendeluxe @alexxavicry @allenajade-ite @catswag22 @eugene-emt-roe @wcnorris @bibissparkles @cherry-piee @khaylin27 @evie-119

[kisses4reid]

convenient pt.4 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 3 (you cannot read this without prior reading)

summary - you don’t need help with your biology anymore, you need help understanding the chemistry that seems to be growing between you and spencer.

warnings - jealousy, dickhead guy, unwanted flirting, awkward spencer, mentions of getting run over and pouring rain, studying.

genre - college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer, fluff, angst if you squint, jealousy trope

a/n - i hope you all enjoy this part. comment or put in a req to be added to the convenience taglist, if you���ve already asked and i haven’t mentioned you please message orso i can make sure you’re on my list for the next part! love you all 🫶

sat in a plush office chair, in a cool room, in a comfortable dress shirt, surrounded by the people he trusted most, spencer couldn’t seem to live in the moment.

now that’s not something you would suggest to the man when he’s sat in front of multiple gruesome photos and case files, usually he would be 100% focused, no bullshit, no wandering thoughts.

but suddenly he felt light, airy, like these cases were just another day and he would be confident either way. it wasn’t completely untrue, but it was odd. everyone else seemed to notice.

“spencer, are you okay?” aaron hotchner startled the man with his stern and concerned voice, everyone looking up at spencer as a natural reaction. spencer looked around the table, noticing a growing grin between garcia and morgan.

hotch continued, “if you need to sit this one out, by all means.”

spencer shook his head and adjusted his posture, picking up a profile to skim over. there was a small giggle from garcia that brought the attention of aaron.

“what’s going on?”

“reid’s distracted because of a certain someone…” morgan replied, biting the end of his ballpoint pen. garcia slapped his shoulder.

“don’t tease him, meanies. keep going, hotch.”

they were right. he was distracted and felt far away most of the time. he wanted to go somewhere comfortable, like a convenience store with a pretty employee to talk to.

ricky, a handsome guy a few years older than you, was annoying logan with questions he could’ve answered himself. he tagged along with logan to your weekend study session at a small cafe not far from the college. the tall man was mostly agreeable, except for his apparent obsession with straight black coffee. he had had two cups of it already.

“so, y/n. what do you study? wait don’t tell me. nursing, because you seem to be healing my broken heart. psychology, because you’re making me crazy? or is it music, because your voice is like a song?” he leaned forward from across the table, disregarding the punch in the shoulder from logan. you only glared and returned to your expensive textbooks, leaving your drink to turn cold in its abandonment.

“don’t try anything, ricky. she’s basically taken.” she warned with a smirk. you lifted your gaze and rolled your eyes,

“you’re nonsensical. you’ve had too much coffee,” you stop filling out a questionnaire, “he’s not even that… he’s… ugh, i don’t know.” you place your pen down and stretch in the stiff wooden chair.

ricky laughs, clapping his hands together, “okay so you totally have a crush on a guy.”

“i do not.”

“i guess i’ll back off with my advances, unlessss, you truly don’t have a crush on your lover boy?”

“i do not- but still please back off, you’re gross.”

logan and ricky shared a glance and went back to their work silently. like they knew something you didn’t. your brain had turned stuffy, you need to get some air, you needed to get away from the truth.

garcia and morgan appeared so suddenly spencer thought turbulence had pushed them into their seats in front of him. his gaze snapped from the airplane wing to their two giddy faces and immediately knew what this conversation was going to be about. it only made him a little bit uncomfortable, these types of conversations. girls, flirting, being happy around someone he doesn’t work with, it was all unfamiliar. it seemed he chose the best people to talk about it to though; garcia had given him a little too much information about his crush from her unwanted snooping, and in the process morgan was also given all of this information.

“yes, okay, i told derek all about your girl but i couldn’t help it! he’s very persuasive!” garcia pouted. spencer thinned his lips and nodded, expecting a surge of conversation but he was only met with silence. morgan and garcia shared a glance.

“look, spencer. we’re only doing this to distract ourselves from the case we just closed, and to help you. if you don’t want help, if you think this… thing, will die out, then tell us. but, if you do want some adviceee…” morgan spoke smoothly, quiet enough to avoid attention from anyone else.

when spencer stayed silent, thinking about how he could never use you as a distraction, morgan whispered, “if nothings happening, you gotta light the match.”

you were standing on an uneven step ladder when the doorbell rang with 10 minutes to closing. you rolled your eyes, thinking you’d have to stay even later because of this customer. but your demise quickly turned to calmness, a little bit of panic, when spencer appeared in the entry way.

you nearly fell off the ladder, dropping the pile of juice boxes in your hands onto the floor. you cursed under your breath, watching from above as spencer picked them up for you.

“thank you.”

there was no need for formalities anymore, it was like you had known each other forever. spencer was silent again, it was becoming his thing.

you clear your throat, “i changed my medication.”

he glanced at you, brown eyes observing your tired expression. he came here unconsciously. he had already had some take out, he didn’t need any coffee, and his fruit bowl was stocked to the brim. spencer walked to this convenience store, the result of the action being evident through the pain in his feet.

the phone in your back pocket caught spencer’s attention, before he promptly looked elsewhere to avoid looking like a creep.

“good, im glad.”

are we really back to this? was one awkward conversation all we needed to go back to strangers?

you stepped down, “no more bruises.”

spencer placed his fingers delicately on his healed cheek, holding back a smile that you actually remembered that.

he asked, “who’s texting you so much?” without much thought. he didn’t think about how it sounded, like he was protective or worried, or what it implied. he didn’t even have your number, why should he be so upset?

“oh it’s just logan and ricky.” you replied simply, folding up the ladder and glancing at the clock placed above the register desk, “are you getting anything?”

because it didn’t seem weird if he came here for you instead of his groceries.

“like your brother, ricky?”

there was a small match burning in his stomach at the sound of those names. he felt like taking your phone and snooping until he reached the end, until his fingers hurt. spencer felt like asking intrusive questions, before he bit his lips to stop himself.

you made notice of his hands fiddling in his pant pockets, rolling your eyes. that made his tongue slip.

“how many guys do you know?”

you looked at him with surprise, walking over to the register, “you think i’m a whore?”

spencer’s heart skipped a beat, “no not at all, i just- i didn’t word that right.”

you shook your head and laughed quietly, starting to count the change sat on your swivel chair. something was off. the street was empty. “did you walk here, spencer?”

spencer’s breath hitched. oh god, were the only words circling in his brain. when you used his name, it was different. this was weird, he needed to get out of there.

you looked so effortless. he looked so anxious.

“yeah. i did.”

you nod, “okay, you can help me lock up then.” you pass him a set of keys for the window covers, and add, “you can walk me home, to make up for the other day.”

spencer nods with a small smile and begins locking up.

you lead the way out of the store and around the corner to a set of traffic lights. the streets are silent and misty, but neither of you felt the need to jay walk in an attempt to speed up this process of awkward walking.

spencer watches you from his advantage point. at how you bite the inside on your lips, how you look at the concrete pathway.

“what’s wrong?” you don’t react, instead push the pedestrian button and sigh.

“it’s monday, spencer. you were going to ‘retry’, ‘be better’? i’m not 100% sure what you meant by that, but you said that right after you told me you were going to ask me out so.”

spencer gulps and nods, hands going back to their safe space in his pockets. “yeah, i said that. but i’m going to have to delay that again. this isn’t really,” he motioned towards the weeds, litter, and flickering street lights with his eyes, and you nod with a smirk.

“romantic?”

“romantic.”

you smile at each other, and for a second he’s utterly entranced before a wave of wind and tires pass him. before a soft hand is hard on his upper arm. his eyes trailed the car, heart beating nearly as hard as it does when he looks at you.

“jesus, are you okay?” you asked worried, and when he nods with a simple stare accompanying it, you look away.

light a match.

you hand leaves him quicker than it got there.

in front of your apartment building, you notice logan’s window alight behind white curtains, and turn to face spencer.

“thank you for walking me home. i would invite you in but it’s 1:20am and i don’t really… know you.”

spencer furrows his eyebrows slightly, looking at you expectantly. your faces turns cold, slightly sorrowful.

“spencer, i don’t know you. i know things about you but i don’t actually know you.” you yawn, wiping a hand over your eyes, “maybe i’m just tired and overworked and…” logan’s voice echoes through your head as you look over the tall, tired and handsome man in front of you, “if you’re not going to ask me out first i’m going to ask you out. so, make a decision.”

it felt wrong being so stubborn and solid with him, but with school and family stress you truly didn’t need any unknown feelings to topple on as well.

spencer was taken aback. he didn’t know one couple where the girl asked out the guy, he didn’t know someone could like him that badly. he didn’t know what to say.

“goodnight, spencer. i’ll see you.”

you turned and pushed on the pull door, before pulling on it. heart thumping in your ears, you slowly held a hand over your mouth, impressed with yourself.

but you lied, you weren’t going to ask him out. you have no idea how to ask someone out.

the convenience store wasn’t so lonely tonight.

logan was arguing with ricky over his choice in deodorant almost louder than the terrible radio music playing throughout the store.

the beating of rain was creating a calming background to this chaos, as well as keeping customers away. all but one, of course.

spencer had an excuse, he was supposed to bring food for the team tomorrow, and this was the closest store. totally. but as he stood under the cover of the stores overhead steel, he felt another match being burnt in the bottom of his stomach.

a tall and toned man with bright blonde hair was leaning over your register and talking to you, making you smile and laugh. your arms were crossed, you were leaned away and you avoided eye contact, but spencer didn’t see any of these signs as the waves of jealousy drowned him.

spencer looked out onto the street. he had no right to feel that way, this was his own fault. he felt even weirder and out of place than he usually felt.

the doorbell rang and your fake smile turned real. logan watched from the toilet spray section and smirked when she recognised the purple-sweater adorned man. ricky stopped his flirting and turned to meet spencer’s eyes, they sized each other up. the blonde man smiled and looked back at your much happier face, “so this is lover boy?”

you smacked his arm hard, receiving a squeal in return. “what? no. ricky this is spencer, spencer this is ricky.”

spencer gulped and ignored the stranger and you. he went for the fruits section. ricky glanced at your confused face, “i might be a threat.”

“in your dreams.” you rolled your eyes and pushed his elbow off your desk. logan approached the counter with a basket full and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. you noticed ricky’s change in expression when looking at her and held back a smile.

“you didn’t get anything for me?” he asked, voice teasing. logan took out a block of mint chocolate and threw it at him, which he caught perfectly with a smirk on his face.

“what’s wrong with lover boy?”

you glare at her, deciding avoiding that nickname was out of the picture. your shoulders slump as you begin scanning her items while making sure spencer wasn’t in earshot. “i mentioned you two, and then he went weird.”

“i mean, if i liked a girl and she told me about two guys- sorry, two people with guy names- i’d be pretty jealous,” ricky inputted.

“is that all? some jealousy got to his head?” logan pressed.

you seriously doubted he would be jealous over that, he seemed smarter than that. he was smarter than that.

logan paid and left, literally dragging ricky behind her, as he waved and winked at you through the windows.

the store was eerily quiet, the only noise coming from the thunderstorm brewing outside. it felt uncanny and uncomfortable. you needed someone’s cologne to wade through or something.

turning while shaking your head, you grabbed out some posters taller than you and turned to have the life scared out of you.

“jesus! i thought i told you to walk louder.”

his groceries were perfectly in line to be scanned, a small smile appearing before promptly vanishing. spencer avoided your eyes, a beating all he could hear.

“he’s your…”

you sighed, disappointed spencer even thought that dumb blonde was someone to you, “acquaintance.” you finished his sentence. “i’ve known him for two days and he a flirtatious dick. everyone named ricky is a dick.”

he pulls out his slim wallet to hand you a $20 bill, fingers skimming each other. one glance.

spencer nods and nearly leaves before you stop him, “can you help me?”

spencer is on the top of the ladder outside, barely staying dry underneath the steel overhead cover with the top corners of a food poster in his hands. you tip toe to give him a piece of double sided tape. the laminated photos wave in the wind, spencer sticks his tongue out in concentration and you smile at the innocent act. leaning against the wall, quickly glancing inside to make sure nobody wanted to check out, you begin talking.

“thank you for doing this, i totally would’ve fallen and died if it weren’t for you. what can i do to repay you?”

spencer thought for a moment, looking down at you, “nothing. you don’t have to do anything. just keep talking.”

so you did, because you didn’t know if you’d see him again after tonight.

PART 5

taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker @c-losur3 @v1ckycheesue @ackermans-angel @scarlettssub @fictionlurker @lovelyygirl8 @momooooca @random-kimmy @leabunny @cultish-corner @doigettokeepyou @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @hinataboke @wenttohogwarts @yaboohah @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @drewsandsebastianswife @hoeshissworld @flow33didontsmoke @bookworm124 @violetvsworld

[sweettofuki]

Hoshina Soushirou | Coffee routine

Genre: Fluff Summary: y/n works at a cafe, one which Hoshina regulars at. Slowly, their brief conversations spark something deeper between them. warning: none a/n: When the reader gets shy or nervous, she smiles unconsciously. But she tries to hide it ><. Word count: 1.3k

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

“y/n! There’s a customer in the front!” my coworker shouted from the back. “Got it!” you yelled back.

You walked out to the cashier and glanced up at the customer, biting back a smile. “Hi, welcome to The Velvet Cafe! What can I get for you?” “Just the usual please,” he smiled. “So one ice Americano with an extra espresso shot and a club sandwich. Total will be $12.47. I will just write your name down if that’s alright Mr. Hoshina?”

“Of course.”

The customer in question is your cafe's regular, the Vice-captain of the Third Division Defense Force. He comes in every morning at 7.30 am exactly, just before his work starts, since our cafe is the only one that opens early and is conveniently located near the Third Division’s headquarters. He’s one of the reasons why you take the morning shifts. (Ok he’s the only reason.)

“Please have a seat while I get your order,” you said. Hoshina nods slightly before turning around and sliding into one of the empty booths.

You placed his order on the counter but before you could call him, he already got up to collect his order, nodded slightly towards you as a thank you, and left promptly. That is how your usual morning routine plays out.

As soon as you could no longer visibly see him, you dropped your face into your hands. “I hope he didn’t notice that I was smiling like a damn idiot!” you mumbled. As if on cue your coworker walked out from the back, grinning smugly at you. “Soo how was it?” she said. “Shut it” you nudged her as she chuckled. “You sneaky little... you always making me take his order.”

“That’s because you need to talk to him! Bag him up!! I have been wanting a double date forever.” She sighed. You smacked her with a dish rag. “Even if I talked to him, it’s not like he would be interested in me! He probably has a girlfriend already with his looks.” you sighed. “How would you know that if you never shoot your shot.” she flicked your forehead. “OW!”

The next morning, Hoshina came in as usual. And as usual, you were (forced to) man the cashier.

"Alright, that's $12.47. If that's okay, I'll just write—"

"Soshiro," he cut you off.

You paused, your pen hovering before you could even start the second letter of his name.

"Um... excuse me? Mr—"

"Ya can call me Soushirou," he said, the ends of his lips curled up to a grin.

A pink hue creeps up your face. “O-okay Soshirou.” you stuttered nervously.

That was the most you had heard him talk. You hadn’t noticed his Kansai dialect before, or how smoothly it rolled off his tongue.

As you were busy berating yourself for stammering, you didn’t notice Hoshina studying your features. He chuckled “How cute..” He thought to himself.

As he approached to pick up his order, he glanced down at the crossed-out "H" and chuckled quietly. Turning to leave with his order, Hoshina paused before stepping out. Just as you were about to head to the back, you heard his voice, "Thank you, y/n!”

You froze for a moment before replying, “No problem Soshiro!" you waved goodbye to him, watching through the glass door as he raised his hand to mimic your gesture.

“HE KNOWS MY NAME SHIRA” “NO SHIT, ITS ON YOUR TAG-”

Over the next few days, this became our regular routine: at precisely 7:30 am, he comes in. You would prepare his order as usual, he would wait at his customary booth, collect his black coffee and sandwich, and leave in the same manner.

However, one morning Hoshina didn’t come in.

He didn’t come in the morning after too. Or for a week either.

Since then, you have been waiting for him, even waiting past your shift, watching the door for that purple bowl haircut. You stayed up all night since he disappeared. Unconsciously, you also switched on the news to find any recent kaiju attacks to explain his sudden disappearance. Thinking of all the outcomes the Vice-Captain could be in: Is he severely injured? Is he in a coma? Did he wake up one day sick of the coffee I make? Did the caffeine finally get to him?!

Ring Ring. The bell rang. You whipped your head at the sound to look at the clock. 7.30 AM! You burst through the doors ready to greet-

“Morning, y/n” Shira greeted as she yawned. “What’s with that pout? If you worry any longer, you’re gonna get wrinkles.” you turned around and sulked against the counter. “I swear to god Shira I’m gonna-”

Ring Ring

Behind Shira, another person entered.

Someone with bandages wrapped around his body under his clothes. Someone with bandages also wrapped around his purple bowl haircut.

Your eyes widened as you took in Hoshina’s figure.

At first glance, it’s not obvious. However, if you were to see him regularly, you’d notice how his eyebrows slightly furrowed more than usual with a slight hunch over one side.

You also noticed he had swapped out his usual loose overalls for a tight compression shirt with sweatpants. In contrast to his baggy overalls, his current laid-back outfit showed off years of trained muscles in his arms, shoulders, and back. Your eyes flickered back to his face, trying to keep your gaze above his neck.

So many questions filled your head.

“H-How are you, Mr Hos- Soushiou? We hadn’t seen you recently.” you finally managed to squeeze out after moments of just gawking at him. (casually)

“I’m sorry I was gone for so long! HAHAHA It has been quite the week. I apologized if ya had a loss in your sales.” Hoshina joked. Then he pointed both his index fingers out. “Don’t worry. I’m still alive.”

“H-how are you doing?” you asked.

“I’m alright. I just got banged up pretty badly by a recent Kaiju attack. Have you heard about Kaiju no. 9?”

You nodded.

“You should be in bed resting! What are you doing here so early in the morning?”

He chuckled. “My bad, It’s my body clock, 'M too used to the routine.” He said, smiling at me. "Besides..," he added while stepping closer, his eyes opening wide. "I miss seeing my favorite pretty barista.”

You stared into his eyes in a daze. “Did I hear him correctly?”

You coughed to cover it up. “Are you sure you’re not saying that just to get your coffee on the house today? Fighting kaiju doesn't earn you a free meal. You know capitalism and all.” You teased him back.

Hoshina let out a small laugh, tilting his head while holding his chin. “Well, is it working?”

You raised one of your eyebrows at him, before turning around to start on his order, trying to hold back a smile that didn’t go unnoticed by his scrutiny.

Once his order was ready, I walked over to his seated figure to hand it to him.

“P-Please take care of yourself Soushirou,” you said while looking down.

His stoic eyes glanced up at you, realizing he hadn't seen your face this closely before.

It was the first time he noticed how long your lashes were, or the softness of your lips, slightly swollen from unconsciously biting your lips whenever you're nervous. He took his order from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours, lingering for a moment as he spoke, “Thank you y/n. I will see you tomorrow.” He said, flashing a tooth grin.

As Hoshina was walking back to his office, he was about to take a sip of his coffee when he noticed a blue ink smudged against his thumb. He turned the cup around to find a message written that read, “Call me if u want to have coffee sometime. Not at the place I make it though. :>” with a phone number written below.

Fortunately for him, there was no one in sight to notice the tips of his ears turning red.

Meanwhile back at the cafe…

“Hey, why is the marker uncapped? I don't remember using it.” you asked.

Behind your back, you heard Shira stifle a giggle.

[lovemyself97]

✦𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓮 ✦ JJK

Summary: You forgot your wallet and that was a good thing. Saved by a small kind gesture from a stranger, but perhaps not so strange. Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x foreign! female reader. Genre: Fluff Warnings: none (Thoughts are in italics) Author: You can read part 2 here , I hope you like it; There's a short playlist for a better reading experience :) Words: 643

Argh, why Lily?

It was 11 p.m. when I looked at the clock on the gray wall, my dear friend, Lily, a Korean woman I've known since I moved to Seoul, convinced me that she deserved a pot of very spicy ramen for her well-deserved promotion at work... the question is:

1-I forgot my wallet,

2-I was threatened with not being able to enter the apartment without the noodles

3-And now a lady was looking at me visibly annoyed.

'Look, I've always paid you on time and...'

'I don't do cash on delivery,' she muttered to end the conversation. Before I could reply again, a packet of snacks and two cartons of banana milk and the money were placed on the counter and only now I realized that we weren't the only ones there.

A young man was wearing a black mask, dressed head to toe in black, holding a helmet in one hand and looking impatient.

'Pass this and the lady's ramen, please,' he said, incredibly politely, making me let out the breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding. The lady looked speechless for a moment but just nodded and quickly packed up the items.

Before I could thank him, he quickly left, leaving me alone with that lady, 'I'm never coming back here again' I thought as I tried to catch up with the boy.

'Wait.'

The young man, who was already leaving when I reached him, frowned when he looked at me and something glinted in the reflection of the light. I noticed that he had an eyebrow piercing, but something else caught my eye and left me breathless. He had tattoos on one of his hands, which were very familiar to me… As soon as I looked up, he realized that I recognized him, Jeon Jungkook…

I had always been a fan of Jungkook, admiring his powerful voice and his talent on stage. I never imagined I'd have the chance to meet him like this, so casually, and he probably didn't want to deal with a hysterical fan right now, so I took a deep breath and spoke calmly:

'I wanted to say thank you, thank you so much for helping me and if you could just wait a little while until I pick up-'

'No need to thank me,' he said, his expression softening a little. 'I was just in a hurry and thought I could help.' His voice came out low and muffled because of his helmet, he rummaged through the grocery bag he had just made and handed me one of the cartons of banana milk. 'Just be careful on your way home, it's late.'

I couldn't even open the carton of banana milk he gave me. Instead, I kept it carefully, as a special souvenir of that unexpected encounter.

'Do you always come here?' I asked a little awkwardly, but I couldn't help but be curious and wanted the moment to last a little longer, to which he just winked at me before speeding off on his motorcycle and driving away through the empty streets of Seoul.

I looked around as soon as he was out of sight, feeling a silly grin form on my face, did that really happen?, followed by several shrieks but I soon felt my cheeks heat up with embarrassment, I'm not even dressed up!, I quickly looked at the nearest reflection, a puddle of water, but something else caught my eye, it looked like a wallet, I wonder whose it was?, and my eyes widened as I realized whose it could be.

It seems that he had forgotten his wallet... I went home thinking about how I would return it to its owner and thinking that maybe I would go to that convenience store more often.

I had no idea I'd run into him again sooner than I thought.

[Don't be a silent reader, let me know what you think 💗]

Do not copy. Original work of @lovemyself97 , 2/10/2024 (reblogging always helps! )

[shogunish]

𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗶𝘀.

synopsis. “you made me feel like i was a threat to you.”

contents. a bit of angst, comfort, miscommunication/lack of communication, implied friends-to-lovers, soft! satoru, takes place after the star plasma vessel incident, satoru's trauma response, unedited, something i whipped up on a whim lmao

wc. 1.3k

note. had a sudden urge to write this when i watched dazai edits and i hope i'll find more inspiration to write like..i just wanna be consistent for once 🥲

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3

the inverted spear of heaven was no more.

the star plasma vessel incident — mainly toji fushiguro — had carved its mark into satoru’s flesh. after satoru had killed the man, he had made sure to destroy the cursed tool until not even ashes remained of the sharp blade that used to spill the blood of innocents.

it was almost like the sorcerer wanted to destroy the things that could destroy him.

however, he failed to notice how he had almost destroyed his relationship with you, too.

no longer did satoru wrap you up in his bear hugs. no longer did he let you rest your head on his shoulder on movie night. no longer were you welcome in his space.

always were you kept at an arm’s length. satoru was close enough to admire but so far out of reach like the constellation of stars dotting the night sky. what you thought was no more than a phase turned out to be so much more until, in the safety of your bedroom and underneath your blankets, your vision blurred with tears.

if the sun wasn't there, the moon would remain hidden in the vast void of space. and without satoru, you couldn't shine, either. in fact, your smile dimmed until it was almost extinguished by the pain satoru put you through — but it wasn’t his fault. or so you'd like to tell yourself.

satoru had danced with death when he was meant to only protect a girl.

you couldn't possibly blame him.

after all, you could neutralize the only thing that kept him safe.

the ability to nullify any cursed technique upon touch was as convenient as it was, literally, cursed. with zero offensive abilities, you always relied on satoru or suguru to cover for you in case your plans didn't work out. one miscalculation and your head would roll — that much you knew.

among every student attending jujutsu high, you were the weakest while satoru was the strongest.

it was enough to tie your fate to satoru, weaving a web of complicated feelings which usually tasted like those sugary gummy bears the sorcerer carried with him. it was sweet and warm like his embrace, but the blade of toji fushiguro had effortlessly cut through the fine webs. nothing but a cold void remained where laughter and silly inside jokes about digimon danced along the velvety threads.

almost like a black hole that swallowed the constellation in the skies, leaving behind broken galaxies and lonely stars that swallowed moons to fill the loss of their companions.

“he's so stupid,” you muttered to yourself, threw the teddy bear in your arms into the corner of your bed and sat up to blow your nose.

the teddy bear was a polar bear adorned with button eyes and a red bow tied around its fluffy neck. it looks like you, you had mindlessly said during last year's summer festival. satoru had spent the entire evening shooting little rubber ducks to earn enough points to win the silly bear, but it was worth it for your eyes lit up like the fireworks that followed soon after.

the clock read two am when you poured boiling hot water into a cup of instant ramen, ripped open the package of spice and stirred the meal with disinterest written all over your face. not even the scent of cheap cup noodles made your tummy growl anymore. how could it when it was so full of dread, guilt and worry for the sorcerer who stole your heart and refused to give it back? it was an unfair bargain, really.

just a moment later, you heard a knock on your door. you considered ignoring it and pretending to be asleep, but alas, the lights were on and likely snuck through underneath the crack of the door to your dorm. what kind of idiot knocked on your door at two am?

satoru — the only idiot who'd knock on your door in the middle of the night and look like a kicked puppy.

“satoru? it's two am..,” you spoke first, standing between him and the warmth of your dorm.

satoru didn't look like satoru. even through the pitch black glasses of his shades could you see the storm brewing in those sky-blues of his. with a sigh, he rubbed his neck. “why does everyone keep telling me how late it is? ah, no matter.”

you wanted to ask, but decided against it.

“look, i know it's late, but i can't help but think you've been avoiding me for the last couple of what? weeks? months?” satoru shifted his weight from one fuzzy slipper to the other. “was it something i said?”

in that very moment, you realized you were doing the same things as he was. as soon as class was over, you'd go home alone. you'd have lunch alone. you'd spend your weekends alone. all those things once were shared with satoru in your space, but as soon as he avoided you..you avoided him, too out of fear of getting hurt.

“satoru..don't you realize that you've been avoiding me first?” your voice was quiet as you hugged your middle. “ever since the incident and the destruction of that cursed tool, you always kept me at arm's length. you no longer let me get any closer nor do you spar with me anymore. nothing..”

“you made me feel like i was a threat to you.”

a painful epiphany coiled in satoru's stomach like a snake. was he so busy destroying the devil's tools and refining his technique that he..forgot about about you? the person who'd steal his fries and snore on his shoulder on movie night? no, no way. he would never see you as a threat even though your touch could dissolve his infinity like sugar when it touched water.

“[name], that's not..” the words got stuck in his throat. for the first time in his life, he was speechless. “you are anything but a threat.”

“then why..” tears brimmed your eyes until they overflowed, ran down the apples of your cheeks and met the warmth of satoru’s thumb. it was not his stupid infinity wiping the tears away, but satoru himself.

to be touched by satoru felt like the first sunrays of spring gracing your skin. warm, familiar and hinting at the end of a long, unforgiving winter that had taken root in your belly. soft sobs bubbled in the back of your throat, rocking your shoulders and interrupting every word you wanted to say; how stupid he was, how much you missed him, how much you needed him.

“shh..say no more,” satoru whispered and took you in his strong arms so you could sob into his chest all you wanted.

satoru didn't care about the tears or snot wetting his shirt. all that mattered was the feeling of you in his arms, and even though it pained him to know that he caused those tears, this was better than receiving your cold shoulder and dismissive smiles.

quietly, you and satoru went back inside the warmth of your dorm where both of you shared some cheap cup ramen which satoru spiced up with some peppers, egg and a conversation which neither of you would remember in the morning to come. no amount of time seemed to have passed between you as you both laughed, bickered and exchanged glances like lovers-to-be would.

“what are you doing?,” you asked, long comfortable underneath the sheets of your bed — or you would be if satoru didn't hold them up and almost looked offended by your words.

“sleeping with you, duh,” he said like it was the most normal thing in the world and maybe it was.

ignoring your protests and pouts, satoru crammed himself into bed with you, one arm around your waist and the other one underneath your head. his broad chest gently pressed against your back, his warmth enveloped you like a blanket.

“you're stupid,” you smiled to yourself while a blush as red as roses crept up your cheeks.

“and you're lucky i love you,” satoru grumbled underneath his breath, blowing some strands of your hair away from his nose and mouth so he wouldn't suffocate while holding you so tight.

taglist. @torusmochi, @cinnamonmon

[th3-c0rps3-r0gu3]

Parties.

Pairing: Natasha X fem reader

Fluff :)

Warnings: none I think. Nat being jealous hehe

The start is written by @azaleavolkova so full credits to them!

Nats pov:

As per the end of a tough mission, a stark party was thrown. Probably one of the biggest yet, all paid for by Stark. I don't even think he monitors or has anyone to monitor who comes in. And that's why I'm here, I was invited as a plus one, to my beloved soon-to-be spouse. Yes, I'm engaged. And yes, I love them as much as my heart can. I mean, I'm constantly thinking about them.

Anyway, here I am, in the elevator at the Avengers Tower, in a black, long flowy dress, the straps of the dress wrapped delicately around my neck. Along with the dress, I have a cute little moonstone teardrop pendant with little tree branches on the sides on my neck, completing my outfit.

A ding rang throughout the elevator, the doors opening soon after. My eyes widen almost immediately after I saw how many people were here. I quickly regained my composure, walking through the doors confidently, looking around the room and seeing widen eyes, even some dropped jaws.

"Pick up your jaws, or else a fly will get it's way into it." As soon as I said that, a little fly flew its way into one of the guests' mouths, being spit out just as quickly as it went in.

I roll my eyes and walk through the crowds. Ignoring the stares and attention. My eyes searching for my fiancee. But unfortunately they aren't here yet. I silently curse and walk down to the bar.

Its been half an hour. I'm on the sidelines of the party mainly surveying the entry. But since my fiancee hasn't shown up yet I've decided to amuse the men that have conveniently surrounded me and offered drinks or a cigarette. Eventually I take one of the men up on their offer and take a glass of champagne from the man.

The guy himself isn't too bad looking. He has dark messy hair and brown eyes of the chocolate variety and if I wasn't engaged and in a happy relationship I would've given him a shot. But I found the love of my life and have no interest in the guy.

I chat amongst the men. My eyes lingering on the entrance. Though another blond man blocks my view leaving me slightly pissed. Now how am I meant to see my glorious fiancee when they walk in!?

It's been another half hour. I'm almost sick of the men. I'm holding my third glass of champagne and yet they still haven't shown up yet. I think atleast. That is until a group of men part slightly and I see her.

There standing in a teal dress that blends into navy blue is my fiancee y/n. And she looks gorgeous. Her hair styled into a braided crown. My eyes glued. I don't even remember the fact I'm surrounded by men until one speaks up about how he'd take my woman. I am now very tempted to rip his head off. But y/n would be disappointed if I ruined this night to I refrain till later.

"hold my drink boys. I'm going in."

I smirk as I hand one of the men my glass. His mouth opening slightly. I fix my red hair and step away from the group, ignoring the shocked stares from the men who thought they had a chance. I walk over to the greatest woman in my life and I kiss the back of her hand.

"glad you could join us darling."

I mumble against her skin as I pull y/n close. I've missed her. But I do get a giggle from the love of my life.

"Tasha it seems you have a shocked fan club behind you."

Y/n smiles. I roll my eyes. I could care less for the mob I just left. Instead focusing on y/n.

"let's not discuss them."

I ask as I step away from y/n pulling in her hand. She has pearl bracelets on. They look almost as pretty as she does. Y/n smiles back.

"you seem jealous."

Y/n grins. I look less amused.

"one was being unprofessional when describing a relation he wished to have with you."

I speak low. Jealousy flashing through my eyes. I know it does because y/n laughs.

"don't worry Tasha I only have eyes for you."

The affirmative voice calms down the green monster inside me. I pull y/n into a kiss she easily reciprocates. I want to hold onto the moment forever.

A/n: This is a work that was started by @azaleavolkova and full credits to her. The rest of the fic is my own original work however. The first four paragraphs were written by @azaleavolkova.

[ilydeku]

‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎How to Love a Hero

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎← menu →

01. ENCOUNTER

‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎9:13pm | Fri, April 28

Pen Square, a not-to-shabby small bookshop conveniently located just remote to your apartment. It's name was well unknown and there weren't many avid customers to preserve it, but you didn't mind at all—you pretty much kept its existence intact. It was like the bookshop practically belonged to you. The oakwood bookshelves that gave off a sort of earthy scent, the beanbag chairs that lie at every corner, the novels old and new practically whispering your name everytime you strolled down an aisle. Not to mention that the shop owner was quite gracious of you being a regular, and quickly caught on to your favorite genres and plots. There was just no bookstore like ol' Pen Square.

"Looking for something sweet, hm?" The owner grins, propping up their arm on the register table. They've noticed your fixation, a slow circling pace around the romance shelving.

"Eh. Just looking for now." You answer with a shrug. "Trying to see if I can find something new besides my series. Oh, isn't the new one out yet?" You inquire and they answer by a show of the newly released novel of the series in hand.

With great excitement, you beelined toward the register, but that joy was quickly plucked from your chest and replaced with fear as one of the bookshelves suddenly came towering over you.

Fortunately, the bookshelf caught onto the next like a failed domino attempt, caging you from harm, except for the tumbling rain of volumes.

"Ah! I'm so sorry—are you alright?" An anxious voice exclaimed from behind the inclined bookshelf. Chips of oakwood were scattered around you on the old floor, along with books opened and flipped over. The owner quickly came running to the scene, first to squawk at the one responsible, then to assist you out of the situation.

"—now clean up this mess or so help me—you okay dearie? You're not hurt are you?"

You shake your head as you're pulled out from under the unfolded ruckus, taking a quick glance at the person gathering the stray novels. But as he looked up, you couldn't help the slightest bit of entrance. He was a burly young man, verdant disheveled curls that framed his plain, but pleasant face adoringly. Curious round eyes and emerald irises, virtually glowing at the sight. The light blue sweater cascaded over his black tee and shorts loosely, red shoes creasing as he sat up to mind you more clearly. He spoke gently, his voice placate and collected.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about that. I was just looking for a couple comics," elaborated he, his eyes darting to the mess before him. "But then I saw these books under the bookshelf and well...I guess I didn't realize they were supporting it." A guilty, lopsided grin played across his lips. No surprise to you that that bookshop couldn't even stand on its own. The owner escorted you back to the register and handed you the new edition, sealed and bagged with care, along with a few other nick nacks.

‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎!! Accolade Aquired:

‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Sour Dreams" Soft Candy !!

You were quick to take out your wallet and the money, but the owner stopped you, sliding it back and simply noted: "It's on the house...for the troubles." A dirty look casted in the direction of the guy on all fours.

The muffled chittering of crickets began to arouse as the great dark descended over the skies. It was getting late, and you knew better than to stay up the day before work. The 12 hour shifts at the hospital will absolutely bite you in the back in return.

Thanking the owner, you turn to step out into the night, but you find yourself momentarily glancing back toward the guy with verdant hair and the illuminated streets just outside the entrance.

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎What will you do?

[fernpetals]

In This House #3

Masterlist

Yandere John Wick x Reader The library in the house is a place of solace. Perhaps not as comforting as the room dedicated to your skills with the pen, but close. The second-best. The library, though, has no line drawn to keep John out. No corner of the house has it.

Your personal study used to be but since your last attempt, John has broken yet another promise. He gave you his word, the study would be your space and yours alone. He promised he wouldn't step foot in it if you didn't want him to. But the promise, a 'privilege' as he makes all his false promises seem, was taken away.

So, it does not really matter whether you are in the library, the study, or the bedroom, John can walk in anytime, anywhere he pleases. "What are you reading?"

Of course, he is here. Looming over to catch a glimpse of the story that has kept her occupied all evening. "The Yellow Wallpaper." You respond quietly.

He hums before languidly rounding over the couch and taking a seat.

"Do you feel trapped?"

You do not answer, just glance at him. His deep, dark eyes try to read you, rip off your veils, and your walls like he has always done.

"Who's fault is that?" He raises an eyebrow

You are surprised at the lack of flare in you. No anger, no surprise, or even frustration. You are finally accepting that he will never truly acknowledge that he has brought the two where you both are.

"Keep telling yourself that," You whisper to yourself.

You feel him stiffen beside you, you feel the weight of his gaze. The glare that promises consequences. But you are not bothered anymore. How worse can it get?

-----

The Reader's Cafe.

A typical name, for a typical place. Stuffed with books at every corner except the counter, behind which the magic of teas, coffees and mocktails happens, along with little snacks like sandwiches, cookies, pies, fresh buns and every other lovely thing that goes perfectly with the suggested drink in the menu, put right before the price.

You like tea along with cookies, and sometimes, simply the beverage. This place is convenient---blocks away from your home, warm, cosy ---though stuffy during summers sometimes, the cafe is your little bubble where you can read.

You are halfway through Blake's 'Songs of Innocence', casually looking up at the shelves surrounding you for the 'Songs of Experience'. Reading every twin poem by Blake has a thrill of its own,. 'The Lamb' and 'The Tyger', for instance.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but there are no pets allowed in the cafe."

"I understand, but, it will take only a minute, I will keep him leashed."

Usually, you do not care. Usually. But you have been distracted all day, and this conversation floats in with a 'woof' in between an you find yourself getting up and following the voices.

Right at the entrance is the same man you stumbled across weeks ago, and his adorable companion.

"How about this, you take back this book, lend me the one I want and fill in the records? I will leave him home when I return."

He is a soft-spoken man, with perhaps softer eyes. Sweet whirls of brown. Dark, brown, almost matching his black hair. The woman hesitates before asking-

"Which book it is?"

"Songs of Experience."

You perk up at that, taking a few more steps forward and catching his attention.

"Uh..."

Well, even though his eyes seem soft...there's still something that makes you squirm.

"Actually, I was looking for that too,"

You are by no means an orator. But the way you struggle to hold his gaze, makes you want to dig up a grave for yourself. He hasn't spoken yet and your throat is parched.

"This one? I just wanted to return it. And get a companion book."

"Songs of Innocence? I was reading it. Here."

You take a few more steps, reaching him and offering the book with your finger still between the pages. His adorable companion his tail furiously as you near him, woofing and trying to reach you. Perhaps he remembers you.

"Oh, no it's alright, I can get it sometime later."

"I've read this before. Please, insist. I was searching for the other anyway. In fact, I suggest that you keep this one too. The twin poems are best read together."

You stop yourself just short of rambling longer. He seems to be a quiet man, and you might be weirding him out. But smiles kindly.

"Then you should keep them." You shake your head, ready to refuse but he beats you to it.

"The next time I find myself here, we both can read the companion pieces."

You do not even realise it when you agree, but you end up going home with both books in your possession. You are going to the bookshop every evening, you decide. Every evening until he appears again.

[bakuslove]

OUR LITTLE SECRET

﹒ॱ˖ 🖇️ FEATURING. pro hero!bakugo x f!reader

﹒ॱ˖ ☆ CONTENT. fluff, sfw, established relationship, pro hero!bakugo, fem pronouns are used for reader themes of marriage ahead WC. 1.096

﹒ॱ˖ 💬 SYNOPSIS. privacy's hard to come by nowadays, all thanks to social media. luckily, you and your darling have found a way cheat the system. at least... a little bit.

It’s not easy being the girlfriend of one of the highest ranking pro heroes in the world but you’d gotten used to a majority of the daily inconveniences. 

Paparazzi somehow finding you no matter how many layers you wore to cover your face that day, crazy fans who were just a little too friendly following you from a distance as you made your way to and from the supermarket, the constant, and I do mean constant, private message requests and comments and responses on posts from fans and haters alike on every form of social media you own. It was hard to keep track of, to say the least. 

Sometimes you’d forgo using your phone entirely just to avoid the snarky comments or prying eyes and questions of loyal fans. And that was just from those who wanted to know about you. Bakugo’s fans were far more insatiable.

However, there were moments you two were able to bask in your solitude together. Peace and quiet filled your dining room and Katsuki stood over the stove, keeping an eye on a frying pan filled with vegetables as he seasoned a bit of pork you laid out earlier for dinner.

You sat by his side as you always did, phone in your hand as you snacked on whatever he handed you in the midst of his cooking. Your phone was buzzing with notifications just as always, but you did your best to ignore them as usual. At least, until a certain headline caught your eye. 

You tapped on it, waiting as anticipation caused your knee to bounce. There’s no way they saw it... right? 

Your last trip out with Katsuki had been two nights ago when he had planned an extravagant dinner just for the two of you at that new expensive place that opened up just down the street. It was the best night you two had spent together in a very long time, no thanks to his ever-changing, bustling hero schedule. 

Your eyes widen as the page finally loads and you zoom in on the little detail everyone seemed to be talking about. 

It was blurry to say the least and you had to really be looking for it to make it out, but it definitely difficult to ignore now with the bright red circle photoshopped over your hand. 

Fans had noticed the little silver band conveniently placed on the ring finger of your left hand and seem to have been going insane about its implications since the last time you and Katsuki had been out in public. Which you were sure had to be about... three days ago. 

A groan leaves your lips as you scroll through the comments of fans and haters alike wondering if you and Katsuki were finally planning on tying the knot or if it was all just a coincidence. Either way, many of the comments further down the line seemed to speculate more, pointing out that your boyfriend hadn’t been seen wearing anything on his hand, and while many pointed out that he probably wouldn’t be so careless with an engagement ring while on the job, various pictures of him in casual dress since then proved that he still wasn’t wearing a ring.

Too bad they didn’t spark conversation about the new black chain he frequently sported around his neck. Katsuki was rather proud of it, seeing as it was the newest addition to his daily wardrobe. 

“What’s wrong?” Katsuki calls from the foot of your bed, and you’re blessed with the sight of him fresh from the shower, a fresh towel hanging low on his hips as he drys his hair with a smaller towel that drapes across his broad shoulders. 

How was this man, your man, so breathtakingly beautiful. 

“Nothing, just... the media,” you huff, opting to let your screen grow dark before placing it on the nightstand to your left. 

Bakugo only raises an eyebrow as his eyes trail along your exposed legs, a common indicator you’ve learned to mean he wants you to continue.

“They saw,” you sigh, crossing your arms across your chest as you gauge his reaction. But, instead of him rolling his eyes in annoyance or grumbling about ‘never getting any goddamn privacy these days’, he simply runs the towel over his damp hair one last time before hanging it back onto its rack. As if he’d ever leave even a towel out of place. 

“They were gonna find out anyway, not let’s just make sure we don’t give ‘em any more than they need, yeah?” 

The bed shifts as he crawls onto the sheets next to you, his large hands finding the soft plush of your thighs as he pulls you against him. You’ll never get over just how perfectly you fit against him. The way his arms could so easily wrap you in his embrace, keeping you safe and warm each and every time. 

“Well, at least we don’t have to hide the fact that we’re engaged,” you smile, making a quite note about how all of your fans will probably want to know the details of just how you got engaged.

“That’s why it’s our little secret,” he muses, a smirk morphing onto his soft, pink lips before they meld against your own. 

You hum against him as his hands move to rest on your hips, the rough pads of your thumbs sliding along your sides as he effortlessly clears your mind of everything and everyone else in existence. Just as he always does. 

“Let ‘em wonder, those nosy ass extras,” he breaths once you pull away, and you hum again in agreement, watching as Bakugo finally slips off his black chain over his head- he only ever took it off while sleeping -and you smile giddily as you spot the wedding ring it sports. 

It’s a simple thing, a black band without a lot of shine or sparkle, but it fit him perfectly in your eyes. If there was one thing your fans got right, it's that his ring was a little harder to spot since it usually hid underneath the neck of his t-shirt and hero costume. Bakugo would be damned if he entered the field without your ring somewhere on his body, and with his quirk being so dependent on his hands, it only seemed logical to keep it on a chain around his neck. 

“Sweet dreams, Mr. Bakugo,” you smile as he places a kiss to your temple before pressing his body against yours under the sheets.

“G’night, Mrs. Bakugo.”

If only your fans knew...

[reanniee]

the moon

shigaraki x reader

notes: angst, death, violence word count: 8.5k

˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

"...hey... are you alright?"

"..."

"...hello?"

"...w-what do you want..."

"...you're not okay... are you?"

"..."

"...what's your name?"

"why are you e-even out here... someone like you shouldn't be in a dump of a place like this..."

"...the moon..."

"w-what?"

"the moon... its beautiful... isn't it?"

".... what is wrong with you... you came out to a random dark alleyway just to see some stup-"

"the moon isn't stupid... it-its beautiful.."

"...you're crazy! the moon isn't worth coming out here-"

"so then, why are you here…?"

"......t-that's none of your business... now go home and leave me alone!"

"then come home with me..."

silence. pure silence.

in a dark alleyway, the most dangerous place for young children, sat a scrawny black haired boy sitting down in a corner, hiding himself from the world, and a young girl facing him.

".. go away.."

"...i'm not leaving without you. i'll stay here as long as it takes..."

the scrawny child looked up at her for a second.

"...you're an idiot! i'm not worth it! just leave!"

she shook her head in response.

"...there's no way I'm leaving you alone..."

"...tch... d-don't blame me if you get kidnapped idiot..."

she smiled.

"...[name]..."

"huh?"

"[name] [last name]."

"..."

there was a moment of silence.

"tenko shimura..."

 ˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

"...hey... idiot..."

"...eh?"

"why won't you leave... why do you keep coming back..."

“because i wanna be here with you…”

“bu-but why! you have a home to go back to! why would you come here instead!”

"...why don't you come home with me?"

"..."

“tenko?”

“i…i can’t... i’ll only ruin it… i’ll only ruin your life…”

“tenko...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

"...the moon... it's really beautiful..."

“i… i can die happ-”

"hello? ma'am?"

"eh?"

the [hair color] haired female shook her head, coming out of her little daydream.

"s-sorry!"

the man who woke her up smiled.

"now, what would you like to buy, miss?"

"i'll take-"

˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

she was walking back to her home at night through the crowded city, returning from a grand adventure of finding a convenience store for groceries. a beautiful evening. a beautiful night. a beautiful sky. a beautiful city.

she carried three plastic bags on her hand as she walked in the beautiful and bright city. a new city. a new environment. a new life. a new start.

new?

she came to a stop at a crosswalk; waiting for the light to signify when she was able to continue her path. the cars flew by her, sending a slight gust of wind her way. 

"so weird..."

she said to herself as she reached into her grocery bag to grab a juice box. she opened the juice box and started drinking it.

"i've been having those weird day dreams recently..."

the memories she had been seeing had begun affecting her everyday life. distracted at work and distracting whilst shopping. the memories causing her to zone out.

memories?

"is he someone i used to know?"

she just assumed that when she was younger, she probably knew the kid in her little day dreams.

“does this have to do with this city?”

the walking sign lit up. she crossed the busy street. cars stopping at her sides and cars flying past her.

"how come i can't remember him...?"

him?

she glanced towards the sky, her head hurting as she tried to remember who the mysterious boy was, when she saw the moon.

a new moon, huh?

"the moon... it's beautiful tonight."

she shook her head. strangely enough, the day dreams she had were all about the moon.

"...the moon?"

she looked up at the moon, admiring its beauty as she walked. a mistake she made constantly.

"is he... is he really re- ack!-"

she was too busy staring at the moon and talking that she failed to notice the people around her. she ended up bumping into someone else and falling down onto the ground.

"oh no! i'm sorry!" a female voice shouted out.

"n-no worries!" [name] said as the other female helped her up. a short and blonde girl whos hair was tied into the style of two buns. she was wearing a school uniform and seemed to be in a hurry.

"you're okay, right?" the other female asked.

"...y-yeah! i'm fine." [name] answered.

"i'm really, really sorry!" the other female apologized once again.

[name] smiled.

"it's alright! i'm [name], what's your name?"

"my names himiko toga!"

"it's really nice to meet you toga, but I've got to get going." [name] said politely.

"yeah! it's really late at night and I've got a place to go to as well! bye [name]!!"

"bye, toga!"

the two waved goodbye at each other and headed their own ways.

˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

[name] looked out at the moon once again.

"the moon... it's beautiful.."

a fresh start. today, is a fresh start.

 ˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

"...what're you staring at?"

"...n-nothing..."

"...were you.... admiring the.... the moon...?"

"..."

"you were! ....weren't you!"

"..tch, so.... its not that big of a deal..."

"....it truly is beautiful isn't it..."

"... what's with you and the moon?"

"... i just think that the moon is beautiful..."

"why do you mention it every single night?"

"because the moon.... it only comes out at night.."

"yeah? and the sun only comes out at day, idiot..."

"...not many people... they don't really get to admire the moon."

*beep beep! beep beep!*

"eh? ack!"

the same daydreams again. the endearing memories have recently begun to flood the poor secretary’s mind, distracting her from her daily tasks.

she looked towards the hanging cat calendar on her wall. may.

 it’s almost been 15 years exactly.

*beep beep! beep beep!*

“ah man... forced to eat burnt toast again..”

it was the morning and she was getting prepared for the day. her first day, kind of. after she scraped the burnt pieces off of her ruined breakfast, she continued her morning routine. after rushing to get ready, she waited near her door till she heard a familiar knock.

"hey, [name]!"

"hello sir! thanks for giving me a ride today"

the two walked towards the black car awaiting outside the secretary’s house.

"no worries [name]. first day back on the job, exciting isn’t it?”

he opened the passenger door for her.

“it sure is exciting”

“the building is almost fully done. today will just be us moving in and getting situated. area here's completely different from back home”

the two buckled their seatbelts and the elder male began to drive.

“i’m glad i was transferred here to work alongside you here, sir. thank you again”

“how flattering. don’t sweat it, kid"

"still!!! it’s nice of you to bring me to work"

"it beats walking, doesn’t it?”

“yeahhh you’re right i guess. walking is pretty fun though”

“...you should really be more careful [name].”

“huh?”

“you haven’t heard? there’s a lot more criminal activity in this area. walking alone– especially at night– is dangerous for someone like you.”

someone like me, huh?

“calling me weak since im a woman? hm! not very professional of you, sir. you know in this day and age, you’re gonna get canceled for saying something like that!”

he stared at you.

“that’s not what i’m talking about…”

 ˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

she was walking home at night from the main office building.

the boss was right. an exciting day. the building was still being rebuilt. a quick and easy day of moving. a nice day, ended with a nice night.

a nice night.

…

he likes the moon too.

the day dreams continued to plague her mind all day. the thoughts causing her to be distracted whilst at work. what was causing these recent memories? 

memories? are these my memories?

she looked up at the night sky, admiring the brightly glowing stars and the shining moon.

a waxing crescent moon.

she smiled and closed her eyes, enjoying the peace that the night gave her.

well, she was, until she bumped into someone.

"watch where you're going."

"oh, s-sorry!"

she helped herself up and stared at the guy she had bumped into. he was shrouded in a black hoodie covering his entire figure. black hair peeked out of his hoodie and he wore a mask covering his face.

"...t-tenko...?" she said quietly, but loud enough for the guy to hear.

tenko? who… who is tenko?

"not my name sweetheart."

"o-oh! sorry about that! you just reminded me of someone... someone that I used to know!"

someone that i used to know?

"names' dabi."

"[name] [last name]."

"you should be heading home. it's not safe around these parts at night."

"right! yes sir!"

"cya around, [name]."

he started walking away.

"goodnight, sir!”

she continued on her walk home.

"why do i keep bumping into people... "

 ˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

the rest of the journey home was quiet and peaceful. the secretary arrived at her home safe and intact.

“how beautiful”

she looked at the moon again. admiring the wonderful glow it provided. 

"he loved the moon too..."

loved?

a loud beep interrupted her thoughts. her phone lit up. a notification

reminder: sleep well!!!! no work tomorrow.

oh yeah. the office is still being rebuilt. no work tomorrow, i guess. i should probably try to relax.

˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

"..."

"..."

"...w-wh-"

"..hm?"

"..."

"tenko?"

"...what?"

"you sounded like you wanted to say something..."

"...it-it's nothing.."

"..you sure?"

"...yeah..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"the moon sure is beautiful isn't it?"

"..tch... you and the moon again.."

"its beautiful! especially tonight"

"it's just the first stage of the moon… nothing special about it"

"huh?"

"what?"

"you… you know moon phases?"

"...yeah? and? "

"it’s special because its the first stage! its a new moon!” 

“a new moon?”

“mhm! it symbolizes a fresh start!”

“...”

“the moon is very interesting, yeah?"

"... i mean... i guess..."

"every phase of the moon is beautiful... it still glows, no matter what." 

“...”

“...”

"..why did you come out here in the first place?"

"the moon wa-"

"d-don't give me that!"

"eh? what do you mean?"

"why did you come out here? why in this specific place! you could have easily seen the moon from your bedroom window, or even outside your house! why'd you come out here! why in this exact alleyway!" 

"...it's way too crowded where i live... this place is the only place where i can ignore everything and just enjoy my time... with you..."

"excuse me! miss [last name]! are you in there!"

she blinked repeatedly, shaking her head, waking herself up.

"y-yes! you can come inside!"

a female with light blonde hair came inside. it was a co-worker of hers.

"you have this letter for the boss. its a proposal for another uprising business."

"thank you."

she took the letter from the blonde woman. the letter was enclosed with a fancy wax seal.

“y’know you reallyyy shouldn’t be daydreaming at work.”

“sorryyy! just been a bit distracted is all”

“well, i’ll be taking my leave! goodluck on the rest of your work miss [name]!”

she opened the letter and started to read it.

"quirk erasing bullets...?"

 ˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

what is going on?

a busy night of work, cars, and pro heroes. as she waited for the walking light, she stared up at the bright moon.

a first quarter moon.

the stars chose to hide themselves tonight. their light too dull to be seen by the naked eye.

what a weird time of my life, huh? i really need to stop daydreaming.

as the walking light turned on, she crossed the street, finding her way into a barely illuminated park. a detour; the longer route home. a nice walk in nature to clear her mind so she can focus on work.

the park filled with rich green trees and greenery, only illuminated by the sight of the bright moon. what a beautiful sight. a beautiful night and evening to-

"help me please! no, stay away!" she heard a voice say quietly.

"n-no! shut up! why don't you!" the voice seemed to be arguing with.... himself?

"h-hello?" she asked, coming to a stop.

there was no response.

she looked around, and saw a man, crouched into a tree and covering his head.

"h-hey, are you okay?" she asked.

"...n-no!" he yelled out. he sounded as if he were trying to hold something in.

"c-co-cover- please!" he yelled.

"cover?"

"face!"

[name] looked at him, she squinted her eyes and saw a scar in the middle of his face.

she took her jacket off and tossed it to him.

"here, sir."

he immediately grabbed the jacket and wrapped it around his face, tightly.

"are you alright, sir?"

"th-thank you.."

"you’re welcome mister...?"

she paused, hoping for the male to answer with his name.

he remained quiet

"im [name] [last name]. have a nice night"

he looked up at her and she smiled.

"i've got to get going home, have a good night sir"

she turned around and started walking home, cutting her detour short and returning to her usual route. enough chaos for the evening. now, alone, she pondered her peculiar situation once again.

"was he even real...? or was he just apart of my imagination... to escape from this world”

she looked up towards the night sky. bright as ever. a few stars revealed themselves.

he made me happy, didn't he?

a sudden shiver ran down her body. cold.

guess i need to buy a new jacket.

she wrapped her hands around herself and continued her way home. once again, left to her thoughts in the lonely night.

ah, that letter. guess i won’t be getting much sleep tonight. boss is gonna see a tough decision tomorrow.

 ˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

“..."

"..."

"...hey..."

"..."

"..."

"yes?"

"..what?"

"you sounded like you wanted to say something."

"..."

"you can say it.... i'm not gonna judge you."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...the moon sure is beautiful.."

"..."

"..."

"..what- what's your q-quirk..."

"my quirk…?"

“[name]... you can tell me anything.“

“...”

“...”

“i can heal people"

"...huh?"

"...what?"

"what's wrong with that?"

"..."

"..."

"it wasn't enough"

"..."

“...sniff…”

“i hate my quirk.”

"e-eh? why?"

"because i hate my quirk."

"what is your quirk?"

"..."

"...you can tell me anything too, tenko."

"..."

"..."

"de-decay.... my-my qu-quirk is called decay... anything i touch with all five of my fingers.... it… it will disintegrate......"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..i-i knew I shouldn't have told you! your scared of me now... yo-you'll-you'll hate me!"

"..."

"h-huh! h-hey! get off of me! wh-what are you doing! do-don't touch me!"

"..it's called a hug."

"..did-did you not hear what i said! if i touch you with all my fingers i could kill you!"

"i know you wouldn't."

"..hu-huh?"

"you won't try to push me off... i trust you.."

"...please..."

"..huh?"

"..i-i don't want to hurt you..."

"..you won't."

"...you idiot! j-just get off! I-i'm go-gonna hu-"

"it's your quirk. you can control. i believe in you.."

"...you-you idiot.... you're gonna die because of your stupidity... you-you know that?"

"...as long as I'm with you."

"miss [last name]!"

"h-huh? oh..."

"miss [last name], did you hear what I said?"

"my apologies.."

"are you alright miss [last name]? the whole office has been noticing that you've been spacing out recently..."

"it’s nothing! my apologies for worrying everyone. i've just been having a few flashbacks ever since I started an office in this area.”

flashbacks?

"has this area brought back a few memories?"

"huh?"

"maybe something in this area is reminding you of something in your childhood."

"i used to live in this area as a child."

"is there a common topic in your flashbacks? or a person?"

"huh? why?"

"i read somewhere that if all of a sudden, you start getting flashbacks of a certain person in your childhood that you haven't seen in a while, are nearby!”

“...”

“... or it could also be that you are nearby the place where you had met them or a place where you used to visit a lot with them."

"yeah... its about one of my old childhood friends.... we're always in one spot, the spot where we would always talk"

my childhood friend?

"have you thought of visiting that place? that might stop your little daydreams."

her eyes widened at the suggestion.

“thank you ma’am.”

"you’re welcome."

"anyways, what was it that you were saying before?"

"oh right- did you read the letter that I gave you the other day?"

"yes, of course. i created a report and forwarded it to the boss"

“what’d he think of it?”

“said he was interested.”

“it is quite interesting, huh?”

“i guess.”

“do you think we should get involved?”

“i’m unsure. its up to whatever the boss wants to do, i guess.”

"well, the leader has requested a meeting with the boss. discussing the bullets, that is."

"alright. i'll take a look into that."

 ˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

"where even was that place…"

she asked herself. the night alike every other recently. the venture home after a long day of work infected with the meaning of her daydreams.

"every day... the day dreams are getting longer... more real. im getting more information on him at least..."

why did i forget in the first place?

she looked up to the night sky, wishing to see the warming embrace of the moon.

a waxing gibbous moon.

"his quirk... it was decay..."

her head started to hurt. she stopped walking and clutched onto her head, the immense pain was stressing her out.

a sudden headache. a migraine.

why did she get a migraine? why now? why at this exact moment…?

"...aah...man oh man”

she closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down. but, the pain only got worse. she fell onto the floor

"ah!"

she desperately clutched her head harshly, begging for the pain to go away.

"excuse me ma'am. are you alright?"

a gentle, male voice spoke out.

"...my-my head...ah!"

she couldn't look up to see the male, but she could tell that he immediately knew what to do as he led her towards a nearby bench and told her to calm down, take a deep breath, and relax.

as she did so, she felt the pain in her head slowly fade away. as soon as it disappeared, she looked up at the male.

his body seemed to be formed of purple mist.

"thank you, sir."

"your welcome. and no need for anything in return."

she looked at him for a minute.

"are you weirded out by my appearance? if so, then-"

"no. it's not that. just...- you look familiar- or-er the purple... mist.."

"...you aren't weirded out by my appearance? you don't think I'm weird?"

"not at all. your quirk doesn't define you as a person."

the male was about to respond until a loud beep interrupted him.

"my apologies, but I must head home now."

"understood. thank you and goodnight, sir."

"goodbye ma’am"

she started to walk away.

 ˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

"why-why did I react like that when I thought back to tenko..."

react?

did… did that happen because of tenko? but why?

she arrived home, sat at her desk. a glass of water rested on her desk alongside a bottle of tylenol pills.

she looked out to the bright night sky. the stars looked back at her.

what’s the point in thinking about old memories?

what use is there in reminiscing about an old life?

˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

"..."

"you seem like you want to say something again."

"..."

"you can talk to me about anything tenko."

"..."

"..."

"h-hey.."

"yeah?"

"..yo-you said that I could talk to you about anything right?"

"yep!"

"w-well..."

"...go on... im listening."

"...there... there is this one person... they are always there for me... they always act so happy... but.. I just have a feeling that... that something is going on with them too..."

"...why do you feel this way?"

"..well, they told me themselves that some people hide their true emotions behind a smile.... and i've been through a lot so... i recognize that look in their eyes... what do I do? they have helped me... they made me happy- they made me smile... how do I help them?"

"well, just talk to them about it. people feel better when they can just let all their emotions out..."

"..o-okay..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"the moon is-"

"hey... listen...."

"huh?.... eh?"

"i-i really.. l-... appreciate you..."

"you do?"

"t-than- thank you... for everything.... I want to let you know that I'm here for you too... okay?"

"you don't have to, tenko."

"but i want to. w-we'll help each other, together."

"together forever!"

"[name]."

“huh?”

“what do you think of all this?”

“oh.”

“sorry boss, but you can’t seriously be thinking about accepting their deal. are you?” the blonde co-worker chimed in.

the boss and his secretary were situated in the building’s main office, discussing the proposal offered to them by the shie hassakai as the blonde worker entered the room. the boss laughed.

“it is quite the proposal.”

“hey [name], you did more research on the shie hassaikai, right?” the blonde turned to the secretary.

“ah, yes. the shie hassaikai is a yakuza group. or well, the revival of one.” the secretary informed.

“well, they sure are intriguing, aren't they?”

“they’re dangerous, that’s what they are.” the blonde spoke.

“well, a dangerous idea and an interesting one are the same. isn’t that right, [name]?”

the secretary perked up, the conversation directing back towards her.

“in a way, i guess you are right sir.” she responded.

the blonde sighed.

“well, anyways i came over here to drop off another report. enjoy the rest of your day [name] and boss.” she spoke as she handed the secretary a file and left the room.

“well?”

“hm?”

“you never answered my question.”

“did i not?”

she opened the file given to her.

“the shie hassakai is… rumored to have dealings with the league of villains?”

 ˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

the female suddenly came to a stop. she blinked, trying to process what just happened. she had zoned out.

she shifted her gaze towards the night sky.

it’s a full moon tonight, how lucky.

she redirected her gaze forwards, slightly confused on where she currently was.

in front of her stood incoming traffic, and a familiar road.

a familiar sign. a familiar road. a familiar life.

she looked down into the street. dark, abandoned, and empty. the road seemingly called out to her, inviting her. she walked forward, as if her legs were moving on their own. familiar with the path which they were taking. not enough time to think.

she followed the dark and barely lit road as she was led to an abandoned neighborhood.

her legs. she came to a stop. she lifted her head up. in front of her stood an empty plot of land. a former family home turned to dust. cracks filled the land. the grass had grown back

the tombstone of an old life.

the snap of a twig woke up her.

her head darted around her, eyes searching around for the culprit.

“hello? whos… whos there?”

she spoke aloud, shaking.

what have you gotten yourself into now, [name]

“hello!” she shouted

to her right. footsteps approached. she quickly turned her head.

a strange man with a crazed look on his face. he was covered in blood, laughing.

is this where i die?

the man came closer, a knife in hand. she took a step backwards, her heart racing and her body shaking.

she was frozen in fear.

he was seconds away.

is this the end?

his eyes glared into hers, smiling as he rose his arm.

tenko… please

a gunshot.

a man wearing a white hood appeared in front of her. his face not visible from the distance.

she was shaking. this man had saved her. he was now slowly approaching her. her eyes widened.

“tenko? is that you?”

she whispered. frozen in place as the man came closer.

he was now a few feet in front of her, able to get a closer view. he was a strange man wearing a mask, similar to that of a plague doctor.

“my name is kurono. are you alright, miss [name]?”

“i… i am alright. thank you. thank you so much” she was shaking as she bowed her head towards her savior.

“it is rather dangerous around these parts, miss [name]. especially at night. you should really be more careful.”

“i know… my apologies.”

“what are you doing at a place like this, anyways?”

what am i doing here?

she glanced to her right, looking at the former house.

“i… i don’t really know”

his eyes resembled a soft smile.

“let me assist you home, then. it is dangerous this late at night. especially for a quirkless in the superpower world.”

 ˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

kurono had walked her home. he had stopped on her street and waved her goodbye. it was already so late. what an interesting day.

he was a savior. kurono. she had gone and gotten herself into some trouble again. all because of these daydreams. but kurono… how had he known her name?

she came to stop. a beep from her phone interrupted her thoughts. It was midnight already. she looked up into the sky.

a full moon.

tenko. hes… he’s not alive anymore, is he?

where are you now? how could you leave me?together forever you said, huh? i want to know more about you, mister mystery man…

 ˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

"..."

"..."

"h-hey, idiot... you haven't spoken at all tonight, I-is something wrong?"

"no, nothings wrong."

"why are you being quiet?"

"..."

"... i'm going to help you too. aft-after everything that you've done for me, i-w want... i want to help you. you- ... you can tell me anything, [name]."

"t-tenko… haha!"

"hey! why are you laughing and smiling like that all of a sudden?"

"you called me by my first name!"

"... huh? that's it?!?!?"

"the truth is, something has been on my mind."

"you can tell me, idiot."

"aww, I miss the '[name]'!"

"shut up and let me help you for once, idiot."

"well, can you tell me more about... more about your past. the truth on why you're here every night...."

"... only if you do as well..."

"huh?"

"i want the truth."

"i-...."

“that’s absurd!”

the gruff voice spoke as he slammed his fists into the desks.

“he had followed you on your way home?”

the secretary casted her gaze to her hands on her lap.

“well, yes. i was on my way home”

a small lie. it doesn’t matter, though.

“this city is quite dangerous. im glad you are alright, [name]. or else i’d be forced to find a new secretary.”

she laughed in response.

“im glad that you’re safe though. thank god a hero was there. who was it even? did you get his name?” her boss questioned

she fiddled with her hands.

“ah, well. im unsure if he was a hero. though i remember his appearance. he was wearing a weird mask. you know the masks that plague doctors used to wear? and he-”

“the shie hassaikai.” her blonde female cut in. “a member of the shie hassaikai had saved you.”

her eyes widened.

“ah, really? he was a member of the shie hassaikai? i guess they aren’t so bad afterall.”

the boss laughed.

“well, s’pose i should reward them, hm? for saving my dear secretary i’ll provide them with a meeting and some funds.”

“don’t,” the blonde spoke sternly.

the secretary perked up.

“rather suspicious, aren’t they?”

“how so?” the boss questioned.

“maybe instead of saving your secretary, they were following her?”

“a dangerous, but possible assumption. what an interesting spot we’ve gotten ourselves in.”

“you can’t forget the league of villain dealings as well.”

“that is true.” he turned his gaze to the secretary. “[name]. be a little more careful now, won’t you?”

“ah, yes, sir.”

 ˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

she was walking home like always, her and her thoughts on the way home. lectured by the boss and her co-worker about safety. she made sure to take the quickest route home tonight to avoid being scolded once again. and to avoid another incident.

she looked up to the moon.

a waning gibbous moon.

"should i find him again?" she said to herself. "would he remember me? how would i even find him?"

she continued to ask herself questions. but one question ended her thoughts, leaving her shocked.

"is he even alive...?"

she shook her head and sighed.

she continued to walk until she saw a flash of white in the corner of her eye out of a dark alleyway. she stopped walking and stared into the alleyway.

after a minute or so, a strange little girl with white hair and a horn came running out and clung onto her.

the little girl had a terrified expression on her face as she desperately clutched onto the legs of the [hair color] haired female. she buried herself, shaking and wiping her tears.

"hello? are you alright, sweetie?" she asked the little girl.

"pl-please... he-help me."

she kneeled down to the little girl’s height and looked at her in her eyes, trying to calm her down with a reassuring smile.

"what is your name, sweetie?" she asked.

"e-eri... please... he-help me..." the little girl spoke.

"here, grab my hand and I'll take you to the police." she said as she stood up and reached her hand out for the girl to grab.

the little girl's eyes widened. terrified, she took a step back. the look of terror in her eyes grew.

"i won't hurt you, sweetie." she assured the girl.

the little girl slowly approached her, and just as she was about to take her hand, a voice interrupted her.

"eri." a stern and cold voice called out.

eri's eyes widened as she stood in place, frozen in fear.

the [hair color] haired female looked into the dark alleyway seeing a tall man with brown hair and a bird mask that looked as if it were inspired by that of a plague doctor. similar to the one of that guy that had saved her that night. he had also worn white gloves. quite an interesting aesthetic.

the strange man began to approached the two

"hello miss. such a lovely night, isn’t it? my apologies for her" the male said.

"and you are?" she questioned as she nodded.

“i am the father of that girl there. she is quite the trouble maker, though. i apologize if she has caused you trouble miss.” he sighed

the man began to near where the two stood.

"why is she so scared?" she answered, glancing between the terrified little girl and the intimidating man. both suspicious and concerned.

he paused.

"she's afraid of the dark." he simply answered.

she looked down at the strange girl. contemplating on what to do.

should i save her? take her to the police?

the man was now closer

no… what can i even do against him?

what can someone like me even do to save her?

he paused.

"lets hurry, its midnight already and you should be in bed." overhaul stated and eri came rushing by his side. 

she stared as she watched the strange pair disappear into the darkness of the alleyway.

 ˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

small pebbles flung into the empty road. the powerless secretary’s mind tore at itself for not intervening. the two sides of her arguing with each other.

just a small girl with the inability to save anyone.

save? anyone?

she looked up towards the night sky. 

a waning gibbous moon.

"the truth... i want to know it... tenko."

 ˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

“i can’t go back. not now… not ever”

“why?”

“i…”

“tenko, you can tell me. i’m here for you. i’ll always be here for you.”

“they are gone.”

“...they?”

“my… my family… they are all gone.”

“what… what happened to them…?”

“...”

“tenko…”

“...[name]”

“tenko… it’s okay tenko. dont worry. i’m here. i’m here for you. i’m here with you. i’m here for you forever”

“-following report states that the yakuza group, the shie hassakai has been defeated and taken down. the leader ‘overhaul’ has been captured and detained. the villain will be transported to a secure facility where he is unable to harm people again. this supervillain has been defeated with the help of-”

“enough of that.” a gruff voice spoke as he shut off the television.

“that’s got you upset, boss?” the secretary questioned.

the secretary and ceo were stationed together in the main office. the two stayed together overtime, organizing paperwork and discussing future business adventures. the news played on the television caught the attention of the two.

“seems like a money opportunity gone. sucks to be us. could’ve used the deal too.”

“you thought about accepting it?”

he nodded and sighed.

“it would’ve been risky but an interesting business adventure”

“you took too long to make a decision anyways. that’s for the better, i guess.”

he laughed.

“she would’ve yelled at both of us if i’d accepted the deal. me for agreeing and you for following my order”

the two shared a laugh, then, silence. he let out a deep breath.

“quirk erasing bullets. can’t say that isn't intriguing” 

“i guess i can see it that way boss.”

“good thing you talked me out of it. huh, [name]?”

“could say we dodged a bullet there”

“get back to work, idiot”

˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

“nice work today [name]. thanks for accompanying me today”

“no problem! its not that much of a hassle to do anyways.”

“dont worry kid, i’ll be sure to pay you overtime”

the two shut down the office for the night, turning off lights and locking the doors. they walked together out of the building.

“hey kid”

“hm?”

“let me give you a ride home tonight, yeah? it’s rather late”

she looked up to the moon.

a last quarter moon.

“no shie hassaikai to save you if some big bad villain approaches” he jokes, referencing the incident that had happened to her a couple days ago.

she laughed in response

˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

it was a quiet car ride. the duo too tired to converse after a long day of paperwork. the secretary stared out the side window, admiring the night sky.

no stars tonight. just the beautiful moon accompanied by the deep night sky. a beautiful last quarter moon. the moon cycle is nearing its end.

i’m here for you, huh? 

how ironic. he was nowhere to be seen. she had not a clue where he was. perhaps she should give up. cleanse herself of these meaningless daydreams. cleanse herself of the memories that plagued her mind.

“the road is so empty tonight. how weird.”

her boss spoke, interrupting her thoughts. she shifted her gaze to the front window. he was right. no cars were on the road. the only vehicles on the road were the two trucks and the police car right in front of her.

she turned back to the side mirror.

“what the hell is… [name]! shit! watc-”

a piece of metal debris came flying towards the boss and his secretary. the metal had shattered the front window and stabbed itself into the backseat of the car, between the two. glass shards from the window had covered the two.

their car came to a stop. the alarm going off.

“what the hell. [name]! you alright?” the boss asked, he was only able to catch a glimpse of her face. she was in complete shock, frozen at the sight. her eyes widened and glued to the view in front of her.

“shit. [name]. are you-” he was cut off by a sudden impact. the police car previously in front of them was now flying towards their car.

the vehicle had flipped over, landing behind the car which the boss was in.

another loud impact. the truck directly in front of them had crashed, flipped over as the truck had opened, causing a man who was tied up to fall out onto the road. he was directly in front of the boss and the secretary. fire engulfed the road as the second truck had come to a stop.

shit. what is going on? is the boss alright? what is-

she looked in front of her. her eyes widened. on top of the truck resided a man dressed in a black coat and covered in white hands. he had light blue hair.

tenko?

the man had jumped down from the truck, now slowly approaching where the tied up man laid, and where the secretary resided.

tenko… is that really you?

“[name]! we need to get out of here”

tenko… please

“name!”

the man, hearing the cry of the man, quickly darted his head towards the car. his gray orbs widened as he scanned the vehicle and he met eyes with the secretary.

“tenko.”

˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

“tenko! tenko! tenko, is that you!”

“[name]... you’re so loud…”

“tenko! where have you been! it’s been so long… you-you were gone for so long! i’ve come here every night to look for you but… are you okay? where did you go? are you hurt? how are you feeling?”

“...”

“...tenko?”

“...”

“hey…”

“...it’s not… it’s not tenko anymore”

“h-huh?”

“its… shigaraki now… i have a new name… my master gave it to me… tomura shigaraki”

*beep beep*

“-awake! get the doctor! she’s awake!”

a familiar voice shouted

tenko?

“shit, [name]... you had me worried for a bit”

her vision cleared. in front of her stood her boss. he had a concerned look on his face.

she was at the hospital, laid down on the bed dressed with a hospital gown and a tube connected to her arm. “aw shit. what happened. where am i, boss?”

“you passed out kid. glad you’re awake now, though.” the boss spoke, relieved. “you remember? anything?”

her eyes softened as she directed her gaze to her hands resting in her lap.

“no, sir. i do not”

˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

“her injuries are minor. we did not sense any brain damage. the only damage caused to her was from the glass shards on the window. the cuts will not take long to heal” the doctor informed the two.

“we good to leave then, doc?”

“i’d like for her to stay a couple hours longer. it is already very late into the night. plus. You are still yet to be treated, sir.” the doctor spoke sternly, glaring at the elder male.

“yeah yeah, fine. can’t we go home after i’m done?”

“sleeping here until morning would be her best option for faster recovery. you are welcome to stay if you would like, sir.” the doctor spoke, clearly tired from the long night.

“yeah, whatever. just bring me a blanket please, doc”

˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

she was discharged from the hospital in the morning. her boss had covered the fees and had driven her home. the ride was silent. the boss deciding whether to bring up the incident that had happened last night or not.

instead, he opted to lecture and scold her, on behalf of their fellow coworker. he thought, what would she do. he yelled at her, warning her to be careful. the blonde would be proud, he thought.

she merely laughed at him. her boss’ poor attempt to switch the atmosphere. it is the effort that counts, after all. she was excused from work for the day, leading her to enjoy a three day weekend. 

he spoke of the break as an end of month break. a celebration of sorts. the first month of working in this new city. this new building. this new environment. though, she knew he was trying to play off his concerned thoughts.

she waved him off as she exited his car, broken windows and all. the two waved goodbye at each other until she reached her door.

as she arrived home and closed the door, she immediately fell to the ground, her hands darting to cover her face. tears fell from between her fingers. she wept on the floor of her home. 

why was she crying?

˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

a boring day. though, perhaps that is for the better. 

a relaxing day, her boss told her to get.

before departing for the weekend, her boss told her to enjoy herself and relax. for it was the end of the moon cycle, no better time than to treat yourself to some joy.

the boss is a great person when he tries. a real and utter softie at heart. work was manageable with a kind man such as the boss as her leader. despite his attempts to seem intimidating, it was quite easy to see his real persona. stern but caring, almost like a father figure.

work, huh? working at that company is not so bad. the pay is nice. the work is average. her coworkers were fun. when she returned, she was sure she would be lectured by the blonde. always acting as her guardian. her mother, almost.

how ironic

*beep beep*

her phone went off, interrupting her thoughts. attachment: an image. a message of her dear blonde coworker, sending her an image of the moon. 

a waning crescent moon.

the end of the moon cycle already? but i just got here when it began.

she looked towards the hanging cat calendar on her wall. june.

june already? in two days it’ll be…

15 years exactly

she looked out her window

“tenko... what happened to you?”

˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

her boss told her to take it easy. her boss told her to not get into anymore trouble. her boss told her to get some inner peace ‘for once.’ her boss told her to relax. it’s a shame how her form of relaxation is going on a night stroll.

she made a mental note to never inform her coworkers about this, lest she want to get scolded and yelled at for an hour.

the secretary couldn’t help herself, though. it was a beautiful evening. the end of the moon phase is always a beautiful time. she came to a stop, waiting for the light to signify her time to cross the street. she cast her gaze upwards at the night sky.

a waning crescent moon.

the star was filled with stars. such a beautiful moon. a beautiful night. and a beautiful sky.

the walking light lit up. she crossed the street, approaching her local convenience store. entering the small stop, she smiled and waved at the cashier. she approached the soft drink isle, pondering on what to get.

staring at the large array of choices, she felt a pair of eyes glare into her. the eyes had been continuously looking at her for a while now.

it was a public store. she mustered enough courage to quickly look left. as she turned, there was a man? a person was staring at her.

the man wore a gray hoodie with the hood pulled up, shielding his face. though, the secretary was able to catch a glimpse. his skin seems to consist of green scales, almost like that of a reptile.

as she met her gaze, the man’s eyes widened and he quickly turned away, seemingly shocked that she had caught him staring.

she rose a brow and turned back to the fridge, opening the cooler and taking two drinks.

as she walked to the cash register, preparing to pay, she felt the same eyes on her again. she turned around, meeting the red eyes of the green heteromorph who seemed insistent on staring at her.

shocked that he was caught, again, caused the man to seeming panic and leave the convenience store, buying nothing.

the secretary sighed. she paid for the two drinks and chased after the heteromorph.

“hey! you there! stop!”

she shouted as she walked after the man who was rushing away. he paused, and turned back to her.

“you! what do you want?” he stopped as she caught up to him.

“me? what do i want?” she sounded offended. “what do you want? whats with you staring at me?”

at hearing her response, he seemed taken aback. he paused, then, he turned around once again and began speed walking away.

“hey! come back here!” she yelled again, walking after him.

he paused, turned around and waited for her to catch up. “what.” he spoke

she caught up to him, then she reached into her plastic bag, picking up one of the two drinks she had bought. she held the drink out to him. he seemed confused.

“you didn’t buy anything, so. i’m [name]”

he uncovered his hood a bit as he took the drink, nodded at the girl, then proceeded to walk away.

shit.

she watched as he walked away, while she remained still. her body began to shake.

he was there. he’s part of the league of villains.

a small pain began forming in her head.

i need to find tenko. i need to.

she looked up into the moon. a waning crescent moon. the end of the moon phase. 

in two days… it’ll have been 15 years already. since the day you changed my life forever.

please… tenko, where are you? i’m so sorry tenko. i’m sorry for not being there for you.

˚⭒. ☾ .⭒˚

“...tenko?”

“...”

“hey?”

“that’s not my name anymore… you know it [name].”

“i’m s-sorry ten-... i’m sorry. it’s just been… ever since you came back… you’ve been different”

“...”

“what… what happened to you, tenko?”

“i already told you! nothing happened! i found my place in the world! i-i found someone who wants me. i found someone who actually cares for me!”

“tenko… i care for you”

“...”

silence. pure silence.

in a dark alleyway, the most dangerous place for young children, sat a [hair color] haired girl and a boy with light blue hair facing her. 

“tenko…”

“...m-master says you’re… useless”

“t-tenko?” she stood up

“he tells me… to stop seeing you… t-that you don’t r-really care for me… h-he tells me that you’re like everyone else!” 

“that’s not true! tenk-”

“its tomura. shi-shigaraki tomura.”

“please, tenk-”

the boy came closer to her. her eyes widened as she froze. her gaze directed to his hands. the same hands that could cause destruction. the same hands that did. the same hands that inevitably would.

“...[name]?”

“ten-to-tomura… i-i didn’t mean it like tha-”

“master’s right…! you’re just like the others… you… you…”

“tenko please” she shouted in desperation

“why can’t anyone just love me… why did i have to be like this… why was i give this quirk…”

“tenko! i’m here for you!”

“you don’t really love me… why can’t you love me... why… it’s because of this quirk…”

“your quirk… it doesn’t mean anything! it doesn’t resem-”

“then why are you scared of me right now”

she froze. silence. pure silence.

“tenko… please… i lov-”

the words never finished. she was cut off. her mouth refused speak what her heart so desperately wanted to say. her body refused to listen to her. it seemingly acted on it’s own. almost as if she were forced to.

the young girl ran. she left the dark alleyway. leaving the boy to live on his own.

“tomura.” a deep voice uttered.

“she left you. you have no use for her. she does not care for you. only i do, tomura”

the poor boy turned around and looked up, tears threatening to poor from his red eyes.

“...y-yes… master”

“shit! ow”

the secretary woke up breathing heavily as sweat ran down her skin. a nightmare, seemingly. it was no nightmare.

it was the cold, hard truth.

the woman jumped out of bed. she rushed outside and ran. it was the middle of the night. a beautiful evening. a beautiful night. a bright sky. a beautiful city.

she ran as fast as she could. that place. that important place. how could i forget it? how could i forget the place i met you.

forced to come to a stop, the same light staring at her, signifying her turn to cross the street. she was impatient. she needed to get there. quickly. before he left. before he was gone again. before he left her. before she left him

she looked up into the night sky. the sky was a beautiful deep blue. the stars shone brightly tonight.

a new moon.

the light switched, and the secretary quickly ran across the street. she passed the welcoming convenience store. she passed the dimly lit park. she passed the dark neighborhood. she passed her new building, her new life.

please.

please be there. 

tenko. please.

i love you

her running came to a stop. she breathed harshly, tired from the exertion she forced upon herself.

her head began to hurt. the scenery became familiar. all too familiar. the same sign. the same street. the same path. the same buildings. the same alleyway.

she approached the same alleyway. that same alleyway where no child should ever venture into. she is no longer a child.

the pain throbbed in her head. a deep voice warning her, telling her to get away and run away.

how could she ever run away. not again. not ever.

please.

please be there.

tenko. please.

i love you

she entered the alleyway. the same boxes. the same feral cats. the same stench. the same scary atmosphere. the same darkness. the same alleyway.

please

she was engulfed by the darkness. seemingly walking into nothing, hoping to see him. she aimlessly walked into that same alleyway, all those years ago.

near the end of the alleyway allowed for a patch of the moon to shine into the dark alley. the darkest alley was also the brightest, in times like this. she stood on the edge of the darkness.

he turned his back to her. he had messy mid-length light blue hair. the same as that day. he wore all black. the same as that day. he seemed as if he wanted to disappear from the world entirely. the same as that day.

he was watching the moon.

she stepped onto the moonlight, and then, he turned around.

deep red orbs stared into her own. his mouth slightly open. his eyes widened. he did not move.

a new moon

she walked forwards, continuing to stare into his eyes.

a new moon

she settled in front of him. the moonlight shining on the two of them. the stars intently watched the two.

she shifted her gaze to the night sky, admiring the moon.

a new moon

at the break of eye contact, his eyes followed hers. a beautiful evening. a beautiful night. a beautiful sky. a beautiful city.

“hey…” she spoke softly.

silence. pure silence.

“the moon is beautiful… don’t you think so, tenko?”

he glanced at her, then looked at the moon once again.

“i can die happy”

her mouth opened to speak. nothing came out.

questions flooded her mind. she had so many. so many things to ask. so many things to say, but the words couldn’t leave her mouth. she wanted to ask him so many things. are you okay? where did you go? are you hurt? but she was unable to utter out any of them.

“...tenko?”

“[name]...”

silence. pure silence.

“i’m not tenko anymore. [name]. my name is shigaraki tomura.”

the two turned to each other. their eyes met.

a new moon. a new night. a new start. a new time.

the same place. the same confession. the same day. the same moon.

the same girl and a new boy.

[im-only-here-for-the-fandom]

Baby Lost, Baby Found

so first time posting on tumblr, i got inspired by the idea of danny phantom being jason todds father from the story apartment 31c by @faeriekit

its going to be a bit long so,

I headcanon that ghosts can asexually reproduce but it takes some time to make sure that the baby is stable than if there was two ectoplasmic donors so its not commonly done or well known . so when vlad tries to clone danny he doesn’t know that he’s actually growing a lab baby and in the test tube while its forming the baby splits, becoming two babies, one more ghostly (ellie) the other more human ( jason ).

Danny feeling a strange tug at his core urging him to find something, something very important to him and he has to find no matter what, searches for weeks before he finds ellie and jason before vlad ages them up and he falls in love instantly. he looks at his beautiful daughter and son, cradles them carefully and takes them home olny telling jazz, sam, and tucker about their true origins, his parents lecture him about ‘how irresponsible he was for bringing two children into the word’ and ‘how hard it is to raise them’ and ‘how much personal time you have to give up to take care of them’ despite them not noticing that he had disappeared for weeks or that they spent all day in thier lab only coming out for food and bathroom breaks or to put a sample in the fridge because the basement fridge was full {they still haven’t noticed he’s died} . the babyies needed a steady intake of his ectoplasm or pure ectoplasm to stabilize so took them to school with him, not trusting his parents inventions to not accidentally shoot at his kids but thankfully the ghost have calmed down with their attacks ever since he got the kids only going after him after school and during holidays and toning down thier destructive acts.

During the summer holiday vlad invites the fenton family to a cruise ship no doubt trying to enact one of his stupid schemes with jazz unfortunately (or fortunately) unable to join because she was joining a charity for helping less fortunate kids as a volunteer so that she could add it to her resume also because she’s just a really good person and wants to help defintley not to get out of the holidy cruise with val of course not . During one of the cruses resocking pit stops he has to change ellie’s diaper because he’s a goid dad, so he leaves jason with his parents reluctantly after the insisted that he would be perfectly safe with them, jason having a dormant core barley exhibits any ghostly traits while ellie having an active core regularly floats, so his parents were less liely to think jason was a ghost tgan ellie, not knowing that as soon as he left the box ghost came to cause mischief, his parents immediately entering ghost hunter mode forgetting about baby jason.

Enter Sheila also on the cruise running a fake pregnancy scam on multiple people, getting desprate when few men fall for it but needing more proof from her, she decides to steal baby jason who was conveniently unattended to in the chaos happening and leaves before the cruise before the ship departs. She successfully registers the baby as hers saying that she gave birth to him on a cruise thats why she has no previous medical records and naming him jason based on the custom onsie he’s wearing that had in bold Baby Jason written on the chest and starts her scam once again. This time she’s more successful in her scam getting large amounts of money from different men, her having blue eyes, the baby having blue eyes, most people having black hair made it much easier, but now the baby was getting older and its harder to scam people with a larger baby so she doesn’t want him anymore so she hands him over to the only man stupid enough to believe that was truly his baby, Willis Todd, she dumps him in gotham and leaves.

Back at the cruise ship danny finishes changing ellie only to come out to the aftermath of the box ghost and search’s for his parents so that he could get his son back only to discover that his parents have once again neglected another child, their grandchild, in favor of their ghost hunting ways. danny feels devestated his baby boy is gone and the ship had already sailed a long way out from their last stop, he should have never trusted his parents, he didn’t care that they neglected him, but thier neglect now cost him his son. he leaves ellie with jazz once they reach home and follows the tugging in his core once again trying to locate his son, but this time it’s harder it took him weeks to find his kids the first time and that was when they were stationary, now sheila keeps moving meaning the direction of the tugging keeps changing and it throws him off the right track, until she reaches gotham and the tugging suddenly STOPS, danny is floating in the middle of nowhere when his connection with his baby just disappears without a warning. and danny is just terrified, he doesn’t know what has happened to his baby.

Jason is in gotham now, which is a ectoplasm deadzone, despite it being heavily covered in death energy. any time ectoplasm is formed its immediately sucked away by those who have recently died, barely being able to take enough to pass to the afterlife, and with the amount dieing in gotham the amount of ectoplasm is barely able to sustain jasons baby core. he has stronger senses and a better immune system from his ghost half but other than sharper canine teeth he doesn’t develop other ghostly traits over the years growing up, if he able to seemingly disappear in the shadows and move as silent as a ghost, it’s attributed to gotham strangeness.

jason is now 15 and dies waking up briefly in ghost zone only for the ectoplasm to kick start his core and kicks him back into his body six months after his death, back in to gotham the ectoplasm deadzone now unable to support his active core leaving him catatonic for talia to find and dunk in the lazarus pit. he spends three years in with the league of assassins before returning to gotham mad with pit rage and the need for revenge against the joker.

danny, now the ghost king , has never given up searching for his missing, despite not being able to locate him his bond reassuring him his son was alive, having moved out with his daughter and sister when she turned eighteen and cut off all communication with his parents. he’s in a meeting in the ghost zone when he feels his bond with his son flare up strongly only for it to disappear from the ghost zone not a minute later, leaveing him no time to search for him, but the bond is there, if barely, but it disappears again when jason is dumped in the lazurus pit, his signature corrupted from how it was when he was young. danny’s core aches from the sadness he’s feeling, the bond he has with his son is seemingly gone, he doesn’t know what to do now.

A year passes and jason is now nineteen a year after he came back to gotham, having reconciled with his family. but now the justice league is facing a world ending supernatural threat and they need someone or something powerful enough to face it, so who else other than the benevolent and kind ghost king.

constantine has the main league members do the ritual with him batman, superman, wonder woman, flash, green lantern, because the requires a lot of power. so they chant his titles, The Benevolent and Kind, The Great One, The Gate and The Keeper, The Guiding Star, The High King Of Infinite Realms, and a portal starts forming and slowly danny emerges in full royal garb, white hair swaying whisply in an invisible breeze, eyes a glowing green galaxy, crown and ring on full display. Danny opens his mouth to speak only to close it when he feels a weak, sputtering bond from someone standing at the back of the room, he cranes his head searching for the orogin of this bond and spots a young man, then it clicks, thats his son, that’s jason. he can’t believe his eyes, he finally found his baby, after nineteen years, he sinks to the floor and sobs.

Jason had always felt a strange feeling if longing that never seemed to go away, at first he thought it was from a lack of care from his parents, but it didn’t seem right to him, so after he bacame robin, and found out about sheil he thought that was where the feeling of longing was coming from, but then she betrayed him and he died at the hands of the joker. and in that one minute in the realm of the dead everything felt right only to wake up in his own grave and then get dumped in the pit. After getting dumped in the pit the longing was gone, and in its place was rage, like he had lost something very important to him and this made him unbelievable angry, so he went to gotham to exact revenge, and ended up reconciling with his family.

a year later he’s stading at the back the room as the justice league summons the ghost king, and as the king emerges the feeling of longing that was gone since his death starts sputtering to life, he looks at the floating man and the longing gets stronger, they lock eyes and the man shudders and sinks to the floor sobbing, he wants nothing more that to run to him and hug him, hold him and never let go, he has never felt such intense emotions towards someone in his life.

As he slowly walks towards the ritual, danny lifts his and revrently utters his name “Jason”